#still think he could go a shade darker in places but he feels right now

[giamee]

𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 '𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐎𝐓!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🍭 )

he just can't get enough of your pussy !

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | 🚨🚨🚨SMUT !! (f!reader receiving oral & fingering), uhhh pussydrunk hsr men who are MUNCHES <3, i think this is the first time writing smut on this blog so hereee we gooo, uhh clit slapping (only once thanks blade), overstim, nothin toooo crazy, ever so slight dom!reader for sampo (that man needs to get topped so bad) + you call him a pervert idk, squirting (shoutout luocha 😙)

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ I HAVENT WRITTEN SMUT IN AGESSSS SO PLS BE NICE AND TO MY MUTUALS SORRY THT THIS SHOWS UP ON YOUR DASHBOARD LETS STILL BE FRIENDS PLS 😭

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 JING YUAN.

this is a dangerous game when he's involved

as a general, jing yuan is very accustomed to being in charge, of taking charge and ensuring that things happen

and as a man who cares more about the hours outside of his work than during, who can blame him for wanting to commemorate each time that he comes home to you?

he's always been very giving as a lover, that much is true. and as a man with a tendency to be more on the... spontaneous side, you were no stranger to a quickie in a slightly less than convenient location. he just couldn't bear to leave you uncared for, after all.

so really, you should have expected that he would quite literally stoop to this level. one minute he was walking through the front door, you calling out a greeting to him from the sink as you washed some dishes.

and the next minute, he was on his knees behind you, your skirt flipped up over your hips and panties tugged to the side as he began to eat you out with some type of renewed fervour.

it had you slapping one hand over your mouth, the other white-knuckled as you hold on for dear life to the kitchen counter. your legs were very quickly turning to jelly due to his ministrations, the feeling of his tongue fucking into you rendering you unable to form sentences.

and even worse than the sensation was the sound of it- every lick and slurp reverbating through the empty room, every squelch of your pussy making you go a shade darker as jing yuan moaned, the bastard, and delved even further into your pussy. your hips pushed against him, his hands snaking their way around your thighs to keep you pinned in place while he ate you out like his life depended on it.

you bit back a squeal as you felt his tongue flick against your clit before running back through your folds, circling the hole before fucking back into you.

"fuck, i love this pussy so much," he moaned out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he came up for air momentarily. "love comin' home to you every day- you taste so good, so good f'me-"

any attempts at muffling your noises were extinguished as you let out a sob, tears welling up from the pleasure, making you fold over so that your torso rested against the counter. your legs were spread wide by now, giving jing yuan all the access that he needed.

he relinquished one of your thighs in favour of using his fingers to pump into you, curling them just right against that spongy spot that had you shaking like a leaf, feeling the pressure build inside you much quicker than you anticipated.

"fuck- fuck- i can't, 's so good-" you were babbling now, trying in vain to break free or push his head away, the pleasure bordering on too much. it was comically easy how ineffective your attempts to hinder him were,

"you can." his voice was some soothing reprieve, and the warmth of his hands squeezing against your hips helped to ground you as he otherwise brought you to the edge.

your thighs were trembling, barely supporting your weight and you could feel your release fast approaching, though something was holding you back.

"cum f'me." jing yuan's rasped voice is what finally coaxed you to let go, to let that string snap with a final cry as you collapsed fully against the countertop.

always diligent, jing yuan continued to eat you out, making sure not to miss a drop as you spasmed against him, hips finally stilling after you ride out your high.

"bastard." your voice is muffled, head resting on your forearms as your regain your strength. jing yuan merely chuckles, placing a kiss with his wet lips to your inner thigh again, one last jolt of pleasure running through you before he stands, fixing your clothes for you.

"but you love it."

you give him a halfhearted kick in the shin.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 SAMPO.

he's the type of man who's best in small doses

the amount of times you get annoyed while he's on another tangent or trying to scam you sell you a product is..... a bit more than infrequent

but there's ways around that

"sampo, do you ever shut up?"

ironically enough, you asking him that made him do just that, pausing for a second to lick his lips as his smile widened, cheshire-like, as you watched the cogs turn in his head.

"no, but for a small standalone price-"

if youuu put a buck in my cup i will shut the fuck up (sorry)

"sampo."

the man cackles, slinging an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to his side.

"sorry, doll, but a man has to make a living somehow."

you turn to glare at him now. you really weren't in the mood.

"either shut up or i'll make you."

you watch as his smile drops for just a second, his pupils dilating ever so slightly at the underlying hint of what's to come. and bless his heart, the man decided to push his luck.

approximately five minutes later, you were grinding on his face. the only noises that he really made now were occasional grunts and moans as you rocked back and forth, and you decided that you liked him much better when he wasn't talking.

the man with a silver tongue had his uses, after all.

he was so eager to please, too- from what you could tell with the way he was eating you out. if it weren't for the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling, you would be convinced that he was enjoying it more than you. his moans reverberated around your clit as his tongue flicked over and sucked it, leaving you keeling over and your thighs quaking against the sides of his head.

every moan you let out had him eating you out with a renewed fervour, almost desperate for you to reach your high. you let your hand snake into his hair, getting a full handful before yanking on it, hard. sampo whines from the sensation, and you almost miss the muffled plea for you to do it "again".

his fingertips are digging into your thighs almost painfully, keeping you seated firmly against him (not that you were going to move, anyway).

your eyes land on the tent in his boxers, and an idea pops into your head as you snake your hand past his abdomen to pull his waistband down, letting his cock spring free. it looked painfully hard, the tip already leaking pearls of precum, and you spat in your hand before starting to jerk him off, ever so slowly.

he whined again at the pressure, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand, desperate for any sort of friction.

"you're getting off to this, you pervert?" you laughed as he shook his head desperately, still plunging his tongue deep inside you even as his hips bucked wildly. he was already so close, it almost made you laugh.

you yourself were beginning to feel the coil deep within you start to tighten, a telltale sign that your own orgasm was approaching.

"so if i were to just... stop, you wouldn't mind?" to emphasise your point, you loosened your grip on him, grinning to yourself as he whined pathetically.

"hm... that's what i thought."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 BLADE.

blade's mean when he eats you out

he's one of those who eats it for his own pleasure, and whether it's until you orgasm once or multiple times, he's not stopping until he's satisfied, overstimulation be damned

"you still alive there?" the man between your thighs snickers at your fucked-out state, not even able to form a sentence to answer him.

how many times had he made you cum by now? six? seven? you'd lost count long ago, and you don't think it mattered much to blade. sometime after the second one, it began to dawn on you that his goal wasn't to simply make you cum then call it a day.

"c'mon, eyes on me." you squeal at the sensation of his hand slapping down against your clit, the raw flesh stinging for a few moments before his hand smooths it over, soothing the skin.

"you can handle one more, right?" you lift your head weakly to meet his ravenous eyes, somehow even hungrier than when he had first started peeling your clothes off. the look in his eyes made a shiver run down your skin, and you gave him a sheepish nod.

"attagirl."

blade's one to keep you on your toes, never knowing just what to expect from him. he ducks his head down, leveling it with your still pulsing hole, and you gasp as you hear, then feel him spit on it.

there's a blunt intrusion as he sinks two of his fingers into you, knuckles deep, crooking them just right to hit that spot inside you. your leg twitches as an automatic response, making the man snicker again.

"you're so sensitive," he coos, and you hide your embarrassed face with your arm. "i bet if i just..." your body seizes up as you cum, again, more sudden than you ever expected as blade presses harder against you. a strangled moan flies out of your mouth, writhing at the pressure.

he's nice enough to let you ride out your high, pathetically grinding your clit against his palm, whimpering at the tenfold sensitivity and the little aftershocks wracking your body.

and when you're finally breathing normally again, you hear his voice break you out of your stupor.

"one more?"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 GEPARD.

what he lacks in experience is made up for doubly in enthusiasm

because let's be real, this man is too busy with the silvermane guards to have enough time to be dating and fucking around

but for you? he'd make the time. and he'd learn how to get you off while he's at it, too

"so if you just, slide your fingers in, slowly." gepard follows your instructions dutifully, and even then you still winced at the feeling of his large fingers stretching you out, the slightest of burns already kicking in.

"like this?" he looks up at you, all puppy dog eyes, so eager to learn. his face was too innocent for what he was doing.

"mhmm." you smile down at him, his face rested against one of your thighs as his gaze returns to your cunt, glued to the way it stretches around his digits. he feels you pulse against him and he shudders, trying to hold back for your sake. he was here to learn what you liked, after all.

"and then you kind of... curl them a bit? and move them too." his ministrations are soft to begin with, and even there's still an unmistakeable squelch each time he pumps his fingers into you, the lewdness of it all making him turn pink.

"does that feel good?"

"y-yeah, so good, baby."

he's so close to your pussy, you can feel each time he breathes, his little pants hitting your clit, making you even wetter. the anticipation of it all had you practically squirming where you lay propped up on your elbows, watching him.

his eyes are still transfixed on you, mouth hanging open at the way your hips rolled ever so slightly, meeting each of his shallow thrusts.

"you see that bit above? if you lick it, it'll feel really good f'me." gepard nods, all too eagerly leaning forward, licking a thick stripe from your hole to the clit with his tongue, before starting to flick his tongue against it gingerly.

"yeah, fuck, you're good at this." he hums against you, starting to move his tongue with a little more fervour, his hand still pumping into you. he always had been a fast learner.

he settles into a rhythm, one that has you steadily building the pressure in your core, soft moans escaping your lips.

"just like that, fuuuck," you pant out, letting your head roll back and your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling. it's then when gepard decides to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking ever so deliciously to make your toes curl.

you let out a particularly loud moan at the sensation, one that your ever so perceptive boyfriend latches onto, increasing the pressure in a way that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"geppie m'gonna cum- don't stop-" he obeys your every word, slurping at your cunt with a hunger that sends you over the edge. you convulse, hips raising off of the mattress to buck against his face, his fingers curling around your quaking thighs.

"use my face, darling," he murmurs into you, so eager to please. the way the ridge of his nose bumps against your clit helps you ride out your high, grinding against his mouth a few more times before you finally flop back down against, the bed, limbs turning to jelly.

"no fucking way that was your first time eating someone out." gepard merely grins, wiping some of your juices off of his face before crawling up the bed to meet you.

"'m sure it was, now give me a kiss."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 LUOCHA.

your life will be CHANGED after this man eats u out for the first time i just know it

like.. he's got skills. he's a certified munch i know this in my SOULLLLL

"just relax, honey, let me take care of you." his velveteen voice is what has you finally lying back, letting the tension in your body leave you as his nimble fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, sliding them off of your legs ever so tantalisingly.

he groans at the string of slick that stays connected to them- no surprises there as you had been sat on his lap kissing him for the past half an hour- and you covered your face in embarrassment.

"don't go shy on me now, hm?" you peek between your fingers, catching the glint of his emerald eyes, the way his smile widens when he makes eye contact with you from his place between your legs.

"hi, pretty."

"hi."

"we can go as slow as you want, okay? tell me what you're comfortable with." luocha's thumbs rub gentle circles into your thighs, coaxing you to open them and let him settle more comfortably.

"do you want me to touch you?" you nod, watching as luocha's smirks almost imperceptibly.

"use your words, darling." you whine, kicking at him lightly.

"quit teasing me."

"do you want my fingers or my tongue?"

"luocha!" he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee.

"i'm sorry, love, you're just so cute when you're flustered." he presses another kiss to your thigh now, lips inching upwards ever so slowly, holding himself back as he waits for your go-ahead.

"could you... eat me out?" your face feels so warm just from asking the question, but the nerves are quelled as luocha smiles brightly, shifting his weight on his hips to lower himself down closer to you.

"gladly."

there's a few seconds of anticipation, of his breath hitting your core before another entirely new sensation- something wet and muscled sliding against you as luocha licks a flat stripe through your slit. his tongue sharpens, flicking against your clit as he pulls away after his experimental first taste.

you're already feeling something inside you coil in anticipation, and it tightens even more at the blissed out expression on luocha's face.

"you taste divine, my love."

and then he's delving in for more. your usually so composed boyfriend lying flat on his stomach, buried facefirst in your pussy and eating it like a man starved.

the slurping and squelching noises are obscene, echoing off of the walls and filling up the room along with your wails and moans. your head was in the clouds right now, too fucked out to even scream his name. and he hadn't even put his tongue in yet.

as if reading your mind, luocha finally shifts his attention to your hole, his tongue circling it, teasing it open, before he plunges in along with his fingers, the size of them and his fingertips grazing against your g spot bringing you to the verge of tears.

everything just felt so good, and he was going to make you cum hard and fast.

the regular pressure of an impeding orgasm kept building up, more than it regularly would, until it became an entirely new sensation altogether.

"w-wait, baby, i'm gonna pee or something-"

luocha pauses, pupils blown wide with lust as he meets your gaze.

"you're not, honey, just trust me, alright?"

and because it's him, because you'd do just about anything for him right now if it meant continuing to feel this good, you lie back down, feeling him bring you back to that point again.

his fingers are drilling into you at an almost inhuman pace, the sound enough to make you cum, let alone the sensation. his soft lips suction around your clit, warm tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you squeal and throw your head back.

"'m gonna-" luocha nods encouragingly, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has your vision go white as you writhe in ecstasy. there's an odd feeling, of something shooting out of you, and you look down to see a spray of clear liquid. luocha's fingers rub against your pusy frantically, making you writhe again, prolonging your orgasm as he milks you for every last drop.

you finally come back down to earth, vaguely feeling a warm wet cloth wipe away at you, at the mess you had made.

and luocha's gazing at you with nothing but adoration, a pussydrunk smile on his lips.

"aren't you glad you trusted me, love?"

𝜗𝜚 honkai star rail masterlist

[actiniumwrites]

patches

synopsis: even though you’re both self-proclaimed enemies, they can’t bear to see you hurt. or in which, you show up at your enemies door all bloodied and bruised and they’re forced to take care of you

characters: xiao, gaming, alhaitham, and arlecchino x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries, crying, enemies to lovers, some of them are kinda mean, extremely mild misunderstandings, probably swearing idk

notes: i’m in a massive enemies to lovers kick right now omg you guys don’t understand. this was also inspired by arlecchino’s voiceline from a heavy hit or something where she says, “wanted my full attention, did you?” she’s so fine i’m sobbing 😖

Xiao:

It was a relatively quiet night before you showed up at Xiao’s room at the Wangshu Inn. For the first time in a while, he had felt a semblance of peace. That was until the indistinguishable scent of blood forced itself in his nose and a weak knock sounded at his door.

Xiao opens it immediately. He doesn’t care to know who it is, but rather what they want with him at nearly three in the morning. No one ever bothers Xiao this late. Not unless it was serious.

“What do you—“ he starts harshly but stops mid sentence when he recognizes your face. You’re doused in blood, your clothes all ripped up. And god, you look so weak it almost makes him feel bad for you. “Get inside,” he grabs your arm harshly, but still manages to avoid all your injuries.

You start to speak, but your mouth is full of blood too. He can barely understand what you’re saying aside from a bunch of nonsensical, I’m sorries. And if your injuries weren’t enough to show it, the fact that you’re apologizing to him at all tells him something is seriously wrong. Most of the time you talk to him it’s a bunch of insults thrown back and forth, some even result in physical fighting. Neither of you have been able to get along for centuries, yet here you are getting patched up in his house.

Xiao remains mostly silent as he sets you on the counter and pulls out his medical supplies. First he cleans up all the excess blood with a cloth before tossing it aside and moving to work on the actual injury itself. You can’t help but watch him, feeling nothing but shame as you do. You couldn’t help it. There was no one else you could think to go to.

“You are unbelievably weak and irresponsible. It’s idiotic to think you could ever handle anything in this world, not even a few monsters,” he grumbles between stitches, “Pathetic.”

You just stare at him as tears well up in your eyes. You aren’t one to cry. In fact, you can’t even remember the last time something so bad happened that you did. But sitting here, terrified of the monsters that had you within an inch of your life combined with Xiao’s cold words made you completely shatter inside and out.

Quietly, you sob into your other half-cleaned arm, “I know. You don’t have to say it.” You begin to get up right after, mumbling about it being a mistake coming here but he pushes your knee back down before you can fully stand up.

Xiao looks up surprised from where he sits as he does, his hands drop the thread and needle against the counter. Without word, he stands up and furrows his brows. “I should not have said what I said,” he practically whispers, a twinge of embarrassment hitting him too. A darker look shades his gentle amber irises as he stares into yours, “I don’t entirely dislike you. As stupid as your actions may have been, seeing you injured makes me…upset.”

“They weren’t normal monsters,” you breathe out between the remaining sobs that still involuntarily leave your mouth. You know you don’t owe him an explanation, but you figured you could at least make it known you weren’t taken out by some random hilichurls. “I was down in the Chasm. Those…things weren’t anything like I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t even have time to react.”

Xiao nods and places the last bandage on your face, “You shouldn’t go down there by yourself. It’s too dangerous. The last time I was there I hardly escaped.”

“What do you mean?” you raise a brow, your interest suddenly peaked. Xiao wipes the remaining tears off of your face in silence before turning to walk away.

“Call for me next time and I’ll be there.”

Gaming:

Gaming and you had gotten off on the wrong foot when you first met each other years ago. As children, you always felt like he stole your spotlight and he never seemed to care. And as you got older, it never seemed to go away. You constantly bickered and loathed having to see each other whenever one another’s name was brought up.

Yet whenever you got hurt, he was always the first person you went to. Although normally, it was for small things like paper cuts and bruised elbows. Not for your face having a cut so deep you could barely see and an arm twisted out of place like today.

“Fuck,” you mutter as you bang on his door, hoping it was the right one. There was too much blood in your eyes. Every door in the village looks the same right now, and even if it is the right one, you aren’t sure he’s even home. “Please be home,” you pace back and forth. Gaming stopped asking questions years ago when it first started.

You were forced to go with him after a group of bandits had found and beat you up, taking nearly everything you had in your bag. Gaming had found you while on delivery, and like the sweet guy he is, he stopped and helped you even though you could both barely stand each other. He didn’t want to see you dead either.

You weren’t often hurt, but it became somewhat of a cycle whenever you were. You were a nice person, well liked by most, but you also enjoyed stirring up trouble and it often landed you in some pretty hot water countless times. You knew Gaming wouldn’t say anything to anyone or turn you away like other people would. And above all, you like the kinder side of him whenever he patched you up, which he was good at too.

“Gaming!” your fist pounds on the door again. It’s almost nightfall and a few villagers have begun staring. You almost go to knock again, but your body begins to give out. You mumble a few more curse words before the door opens and you fall forward, directly onto the very person you were looking for.

“Ow ow ow, oh my god my arm!”

“Sorry! Is that blood?! What happened to you?”

“I don’t know! Ask the guys who thought my joke wasn’t funny.”

Gaming picks you up off the floor in a state of panic and rushes you to the bathroom. Luckily for you both, his dad isn’t home to see all of this.

Gaming begins to wipe the blood off your face and examine the cut that runs all the way from your forehead to your cheek, narrowly missing your eye. “This is bad,” he says and begins rummaging through his drawers for medical supplies.

You scoff, “Yeah, you think?”

“You didn’t have to come here, you know. You should’ve gone to a doctor,” he bites back nicely. Sometimes you wish he would just be a little meaner to you. It was easier to hate him that way.

You quiet down and let him take care of your face, “I’m sorry. You’re the only one who I can actually trust to take care of me.”

Gaming hides a small smile while avoiding eye contact with you. Not that you could even see, but just in case. He’d never admit it, but he actually really enjoys when you go to him for help. He’s never resented you like you’ve resented him, but he never bothered to change it either. Somehow he hoped bandaging you up would make you change your mind about him.

“It’s alright,” he says softly, pouring disinfectant onto a small cloth and wiping the cut gently. You wince and he places a hand on your upper arm to silently comfort you, “If you want some good news, you don’t need stitches on your face.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, having always hated needles, “Thank god.”

“But you will have to see a doctor for your arm. There’s no way for me to fix that on my own,” he says bashfully, “I can maybe…take you if you’d like?”

You peer up at him, shocked at the question. Perhaps this could be a new start between the two of you, and you’re not so against it.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Alhaitham:

It’s pouring outside when Alhaitham hears banging on his front door. At first, he ignores it thinking it was just Kaveh forgetting his keys again and he doesn’t care enough to let him in. But the banging persists and then comes the faint sound of pained sobs.

He slams his book shut and groans as he gets up and trudges angrily to the door. He swings it open only to be met with the sight of you clutching your waist, barely keeping yourself standing as the rain envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper weakly.

Alhaitham scoffs, “Really? I’m not a doctor, go somewhere else.” He begins to shut the door, and he almost does so successfully before you collapse on the floor, blood beginning to mix with the puddle outside his door. And there’s a lot of it.

The next thing you know, you’re in your least favorite scholar’s arms as he carries you to his room. He sets you on a chair and you take the time to take in what his room looks like. It isn’t much different than you expected, yet you never thought you’d see it.

“Don’t move. I don’t want you making any more of a mess than you already have,” he sneers, walking off to the bathroom connected to his room to grab out a small bag of medical supplies. When he returns you’re blankly staring ahead of you, barely conscious as tears start running down your face. It’s like you don’t even know you’re crying. Alhaitham stares at you for a moment in utter disbelief before snapping in your face, “Take your shirt off.”

“Huh?” you snap out of your daze, confusedly wiping your tears as you do so. A few sniffles leave your nose as you do so.

“Do you want help or not?” he snaps again, losing his patience with you. He’s beginning to seriously regret not leaving you on his doorstep. You quickly follow his instructions, taking off your shirt to reveal a huge cut stemming from one side of your stomach to the other.

Alhaitham’s eyes slightly widen in shock, and he almost can’t pull them away. For a brief moment, you even catch them soften but it’s fleeting and doesn’t give you enough time to register that maybe the stoic scribe really does care for you, even just a little bit.

You both sit in complete silence as he begins working. You catch his eyes every so often, but he quickly looks back down at the injury before either of you can speak on it.

“Who was it?” Alhaitham grumbles as he finishes wrapping it up, his arms wrapped around your waist. The feeling of his hands distracts you from the question.

“What?”

“The people that did this. Who was it?” he repeats it, more anger this time around. You shake your head and look off to the side.

“I don’t know. It was too dark to get a good look at them,” you try to explain, but Alhaitham doesn’t have any of it. You’re not sure why, but he doesn’t seem like the normal him. The guy that normally finds any and every chance to torment you.

He gets up and grabs the bag, noting something down on a nearby piece of paper and shoving it in the left pocket of his pants before angrily walking out the door of his bedroom, “I’ll be back.”

“Wait! Don’t go,” Your hand reaches out and grabs his. You pull back suddenly, not realizing how impulsive your decision was until it was too late. You go to mumble a sorry, but before you can, you find your hand back in his.

You stare at him in shock, but he just squeezes your shaking hand. “Stay here,” he says somehow both coldly and warmly at once, pulling the blankets back and gesturing to his bed, “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Where are you going?”

“To deal with the people that hurt you.”

Arlecchino:

You wince as the door swings open aggressively, not expecting Arlecchino to open the door before you could even think to knock.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, squinting her eyes so as to scale you up and down. For a moment, they linger over your bloodstained clothes and the already bruising cuts that litter your body. You don’t notice the way they widen in shock for a moment, too distracted by the adrenaline wearing off.

You still manage to crack an arrogant smile and sarcastically mutter, “Couldn’t think of anyone worth patching me up but you.”

Without waiting for a response, you push past her figure and let yourself inside already knowing where the infirmary is. Although, you don’t make it two steps before your legs give out and your body tumbles toward the hardwood floors.

The clicking of heels stops from just beside you before a strong hand grips your arm and aggressively pulls you up, “Don’t dirty my floors. The children worked hard to clean those today.”

“Yeah? Well they can clean them again tomorrow,” you grumble and weakly attempt to push her hand off of your body. Arlecchino doesn’t budge, however. She instead drags you all the way to the infirmary and sets you down on one of the beds.

“Wow these are surprisingly comfortable. Didn’t know you had it in you to be so accommodating to all the children you like to hold hostage,” you tease to keep yourself from focusing on the pain. She ignores you and instead places a firm hand on your uninjured chest and slams your back against the bed.

Immediately, she begins working on all the little cuts and gently wipes all the blood away, saving your bigger injuries to be dealt with in a moment. For now, she didn’t mind if you suffered for a little longer.

“So,” Arlecchino starts after a few minutes of silence, finally deeming it worthy to have a real conversation with you, “was this your way of getting my full attention? If you wanted me to notice you, you should have just said something.”

“What? No! I got attacked, I wasn’t trying to ‘get your attention’ or whatever.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I really wasn’t,” you cross your arms and turn your head away from her, “I was scared, you know? I didn’t know who else to go to. Make fun of me all you want, but it’s the truth.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t say anything more after the conversation takes its turn. You’re glad she doesn’t, not wanting to engage in the horrible embarrassment you already felt from having to show up here anyway. She was the last person you’d want to have see your weakness, yet here you are covered in the House of the Hearth’s bandages.

When Arlecchino is done with stitching up your leg, she moves to your face and gently brushes away the blood. And cut by cut, she heals each one and leaves you feeling brand new again. You stare up at her for a brief moment, unable to look anywhere else when the red X’s in her eyes are so focused on you.

“So who did it?” She asks suddenly, her tone a little more caring than before. It almost shocks you, but then again, deep down you knew she cared more than she let on. No matter how much either of you didn’t get along, you always had her back. Even if she didn’t know it. You always liked the think that she had yours too.

You sigh and scribble down a few names on a nearby clipboard left by the bed, “That’s only a few of them…the ones I was able to get talking before everything happened. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding their leader though.”

Her eyes scan over the paper before she glances back at you and nods. She begins to walk away but stops at the doorway and calls out over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in the morning. My room is on the second floor, last door at the end of the hall. I expect to find you resting there when I return.”

[littlexdeaths]

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: slight suggestiveness on eddie’s part, but also lots of tooth rotting fluff <3

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: this takes place somewhere after the car troubles saga, but before the fake dating saga. based on this lovely request, i hope you like it my love! i appreciate your patience xx

“dude, you sound like fucking shit.”

you hear sid’s voice ring out loudly from the dining room.

you sit up, your inherent nosiness now quickly outweighing any desire to pay attention to the movie flashing across the television. so you carefully get up from the sofa and you peek your head around the corner into the dining room.

sid has his back to you, watching out the window while he continues to talk on the phone. wednesday nights were always slotted for band practice, so you knew it could be one of four people that he was talking to. you just hoped it wasn’t a certain curly haired lead guitarist on the other end.

wednesdays had quickly become your days together as well, once sid fell asleep that is.

your brother snorts but just shakes his head in response to whatever the person on the other line just said.

“nah, don’t worry about it, ed. i’ll see what the other guys wanna do, no need to infect the rest of us with your crap.” he laughs and your heart sinks a little.

so eddie wasn’t coming tonight.

while you feel a little disappointed, an idea suddenly comes to you. and your mind is already made up before sid can even finish hanging up the phone. you grab your keys and purse and hurry past him to the front door.

“hey! where the hell are you going in such a rush?” your brother calls while you slip on your sneakers.

“robin’s having really bad cramps, gotta get her some stuff.”

you’re a little shocked with how easily the lies and excuses come to you now, but you know it’s better than dealing with the reality of sid knowing.

“okay— too much info!” he says with a whistle before he picks the phone back up to call jeff.

you make it to the bradley’s big buy without any issues, besides a disapproving look from hopper as you flew past him on main street. you’re just grateful he was feeling nice today and didn’t pull you over.

as you push the squeaky cart through the aisles you begin to pile saltines, pedialyte and chicken noodle soup into the basket. paying extra mind to grab a couple packages of reese’s pieces and twizzlers on your way past the register.

two of his favorites.

during your short drive to forest hills trailer park, you can’t help the nerves from rumbling in your belly. would he be upset that you showed up unannounced? you didn’t think that was likely, but things were still so new between you. and you really don’t want to mess anything up.

but the look of delighted surprise that crosses his features when he opens the door has any lingering worries dissolving almost instantly. while he’s dressed in a pair of checkered pajama pants and a ratty old band tee— he still manages to take your breath away.

“surprise!” you mumble sheepishly.

“you know,” eddie grins, the tip of his finger tapping against his chin, “i don’t think i ordered a nurse?”

his small chuckle quickly morphs into a hacking cough, the male resting his body further against the doorframe. but the way he’s leaning against it is very reminiscent of that night your car broke down, the night that changed everything. only this time the sweat on his brow is from a fever and not the raging humidity.

“well lucky for you, i do house calls,” you tease, lightly brushing past him to enter the trailer.

eddie had set up camp in the living room, if the amount of tissues strewn about the floor were anything to go by.

“uh… sorry ‘bout the mess,” his already pink cheeks flush a shade darker while he quickly tries to tidy up. “—wasn’t expecting company.”

you can tell by his wobbly stance that he shouldn’t be up and moving around at all right now, so when he bends down again to grab more discarded tissues— you stop him.

“hey, don’t worry about that now, okay?” you reassure him, slipping your hand around his waist to guide him back towards his bedroom.

eddie all but deflates into your side, his mouth lifting into another grin when you reach the edge of his unmade bed.

“i see what’s going on here…” he hums, “trying to get me in bed before we’ve even been on a proper date.”

one of his palms slaps over his chest in mock horror as he flops down onto his mattress in the most dramatic, yet completely eddie-like manner imaginable.

“what kind of guy do you think i am, sweetheart?”

you roll your eyes fondly when he sits back up, eyebrows quirking up suggestively beneath his bangs.

“oh shame on me, we must keep that precious virtue of yours intact.” you giggle, letting him wrap his arm around your waist while he tucks you into the space between his thighs.

you can feel the overwhelming warmth radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt, and the beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his neck when you wrap your arms around him.

“please tell me you’ve been taking tylenol or something for this fever, eds.”

concern laces your tone, but you already know the answer by the way he peeks up at you under his lashes in feigned innocence.

“—uh… no.”

you let out a sigh before untangling yourself from him and he almost manages to follow you out of his room. but you are quick to turn on your heel and press a firm hand to his chest.

“nuh uh, mister. you need to lay down,” you scold, despite the pout adorning his features. “and that’s an order.”

eddie utters a soft, so bossy under his breath before he retreats back to his bed. you’re quick to rummage through the medicine cabinet in his bathroom until you find what you’re looking for. coming back to his room with a full glass of water and two tylenol in tow.

he tosses the pills back without any further argument, much to your relief. but the male immediately reaches for you again and you unwillingly slip through his fingers.

“nooo— where are you going now?” he all but whines.

you merely respond with a giggle as you slip out of his room, padding down the hall towards your bag of goodies you left near the front door. you snatch out the candy and pedialyte, and graciously clean up the rest of his tissues before making your way back towards his room.

eddie perks up at the sight of you, immediately pulling back the bedsheets and welcoming you in with open arms. you set your goodies down on his nightstand before sliding in next to him, the male completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“thank you.” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and truly, he means it.

eddie has spent most of his life fending for himself, so he’s not used to someone wanting to dote on him like this. but the fact that you were so willing to drop everything to come here and check on him — spoke volumes.

you carefully tilt your head up to glance at him, his soft chestnut hues meeting yours as he tucks comfortably into his side.

“anytime, eds.”

and you mean it too.

you spend the better part of the evening nursing him back to health, as much he’ll let you anyway. while eddie is beyond grateful that you’re willing to care for him like this, he’s just happy to be in your presence.

and he can’t deny he’s become quite attached to you in the short time you’d started seeing each other. so much so that when you finally get up to make him some dinner he all but clings to your side, despite your protests for him to go rest.

eddie is nothing if not stubborn, so he follows you into the small kitchen. keeping his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder while you heat up a can of campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

but as much as he's enjoying the coddling in his current state, he draws the line at your attempts to spoon-feed him. it only leads to him playfully nipping at your fingers until he finally manages to sneak the utensil from your grasp.

with his belly fully and his fever beginning to break the two of you make your way back to his bedroom. slipping comfortably beneath the covers while you flip through the tv stations until you’ve settled on some old the price is right reruns.

eddie falls asleep not even five minutes after his head hits the pillow, soft snores tumbling from his plump lips. the utter picture of content. so you can’t help when your gaze quickly shifts from bob barker and the spinning wheel to his sleeping features.

you admire the way his long lashes fan across his freckled cheeks and the little scar on the slope of his nose that you’ve never noticed before. the way his lips are slightly chapped, but still kissable all the same. and when you lean up to press a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, he doesn’t even stir.

but as you snuggle yourself into his chest you miss the way his lips quirk up in a half smile, the male ultimately catching you in the act. eddie decides to say nothing as your breathing begins to slow and you drift off to sound of his steady heartbeat in your ears.

and later, when wayne returns home from work that evening to find you both entangled and sleeping soundly in his nephew’s bed, he just quietly shuts the door behind him with a knowing grin on his face.

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @devil-in-hiding @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can @guiltyasquinn

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[roosterforme]

Pink Christmas Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make Christmas special for your daughter, and he's nervous he might have blown his cover as Santa. As Christmas Eve approaches, he pulls out all the stops for the two of you. But will you let him give Ellie everything from her wishlist?

Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse

Length: 7000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge

Once you started kissing Bradley, everything came back to you. Fingers in his soft hair, your body pressed to his, and his tongue softly caressing yours. You knew just what to do, and you didn't want to stop. When his big hands came to rest on your back, you couldn't even remember why you'd been nervous in the first place.

Your thumb found the rough stubble and slightly raised scars on his cheek at the same time you heard your front door knob rattling. When you pulled away from Bradley's lips, you looked up at his handsome face and smiled, completely distracted as your daughter let herself inside. You pulled free from Bradley's warm embrace just as you heard Ellie ask him, "Who are you?"

Bradley licked his lips as he examined your face with his pretty brown eyes. Then he turned his full attention to your child. "Are you Ellie?" he asked, and when she nodded and set her backpack down, he reached out to shake her hand. "My name's Bradley. I'm a handyman from the North Pole."

"A handyman?" she asked, shaking his hand firmly. "What does that mean?"

"Means Santa sent me here to set up your pink tree, because he got a little busy this week," he replied so smoothly, you almost believed him yourself. 

Ellie gasped and looked past him into the living room. "Santa got my tree!" she gushed. "Mommy!"

"Yeah," you replied with a laugh. "Santa really knows what he's doing."

Bradley looked at you with a little bit of a blush coloring his face, and you were shocked to find that you instinctively wanted to reach for his hand and kiss that pretty shade of pink on his cheeks. You barely managed to stop yourself as he took a step toward you. 

"That was close," he muttered, watching Ellie run her hands along all of the ornaments that she could reach. But you were still busy looking at him, because his response to your daughter was what had you melting inside. He had a soft smile on his lips as he laughed. "I think she likes her tree."

You rubbed your fingers along the back of his hand, and his gaze met yours immediately before falling to your lips. "I think so, too."

He nodded toward the door. "I should go," he said slowly. You didn't know how to tell him that for some reason you knew your house would feel too empty if he left right now. When Ellie spoke up, you could have hugged her for her brilliant idea. 

"Mommy, is Bradley allowed to stay for pizza?"

You let go of his hand as Ellie came back over with one of the pink heart ornaments. Then you and she both looked up at him as he asked, "Am I allowed to stay?" He looked a bit like a wayward puppy as he added, "I love pizza."

Your heart swelled at the idea of him in your house a little longer, maybe sharing a few more secret touches. "Of course you can stay."

Ellie reached out and took him by the hand, dragging him toward her playroom, and he went willingly as she asked, "Do they have pizza at the North Pole? Which one of Santa's elves is your favorite? I liked Phoenix the best, but I liked grumpy Hangman, too."

Her voice faded as she rambled on, and you could hear Bradley laughing. Then you were alone in the pink glow of the tree as it grew darker outside, and you took your phone out to order pizza just like you always did on Friday nights. But for the first time in a long time, you couldn't stop smiling. 

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

"I've never played dolls before," Bradley said as Ellie picked one up to brush its hair. 

"That's okay," she replied, handing him a different doll. "I'll show you how. It's not really that hard. Just brush her hair and make her look pretty for the party we're taking them to."

Bradley grunted and picked up one of the toy brushes. "I think I can handle that."

A few minutes later, he was very into coordinating which outfit his doll was going to wear to the birthday party they were going to be attending. "How does this look?" he asked her, and she handed him a pink ribbon. 

"She needs a bow in her hair."

"Right," he muttered, and he tried a few times, but his fingers seemed to be too big to get it right. 

As he was struggling with it, Ellie paused what she was doing and said, "You seem really familiar."

"Do I?" he asked cautiously, still fighting the bow and hoping she didn't immediately realize that he was in fact Santa Claus. 

She was quiet for a beat before she said, "I think you remind me of my dad." Bradley's eyes met hers, but she didn't look sad or upset, just resigned. "He was good at dolls, too. But not tying the bows."

Then Bradley felt your hand on his shoulder as you said, "Do you need a hand?" He nodded and passed the doll to you, watching as you made it look so easy to tie the perfect bow. "Pizza will be here soon," you said softly, handing the doll back to him. 

"Thanks," he whispered, still surprised by your daughter's words. Somehow it didn't make him feel nervous or weird to be compared to your late husband. But it did come with a sense of responsibility of sorts. He already ordered Ellie her pink art kit, but he found himself just wanting to spend time with the two of you. The kisses had been one thing, but playing dolls and eating pizza seemed natural as well.

When the food arrived, Bradley hopped up and tried to pay for it, but you'd already put it on your credit card. So he snatched your wallet out of your hand and pulled tip money out of his own for the delivery guy. And if he was able to get his arms around you in the process and press a soft kiss to your cheek, it was just a bonus for him. Then he watched you cut a slice of pizza in half for your daughter as you tried to hide your smile from him. 

"Where did the flowers come from?" Ellie asked, pointing at the big bouquet and the smaller one. 

"Santa sent them with me," he replied, picking up the small one so she could smell them. "He told me that you and your mom both like pink."

"Santa knows everything," she said as she nodded, and Bradley smiled down at her. "I want to eat by the tree," she insisted when you handed her a plate and a juice box. 

"Yeah," Bradley agreed as he picked out some slices of pizza. "Me too." So you handed him a juice box as well, and he followed Ellie back to the living room with a smile. The three of you sat on the floor in a little circle next to the tree, and Bradley regaled the two of you with made up stories about the North Pole. Ellie was in stitches, and you bit your lip every time she laughed, your smile absolutely infectious. 

Bradley ended up eating Ellie's pizza crust as you cleaned up the plates, and he knew it was time for him to leave. It was late. But he was nervous he wouldn't see you before Christmas Eve when he planned to come by as Santa. 

"Mommy, can Bradley come back and look at Christmas lights with us?"

You paused as Bradley stood up next to the pink tree, and then you said, "Ellie, I'm not even sure where to go for that in San Diego."

"I could ask Santa," Bradley blurted out. "I'm sure he'd know the best spots in any city to see Christmas lights."

"Yeah!" Ellie agreed. "Santa would know!"

You only hesitated for a second before you said, "Only if it's not going to take up too much of your time."

Bradley patted Ellie on the head and said, "I can make time for that. Let me get back to the North Pole and ask Santa where the best lights are. Thanks for teaching me how to play dolls." Then he met your gaze and said, "And thanks for the pizza."

"It's our pleasure," you told him, echoing his own words from the other day. 

He swallowed hard; the urge to lean in and kiss you was so strong. He fought it though, because he knew he had another excuse to see you both again soon. Then he forced himself toward the door. "I'll be in touch," he promised, and when he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, he noticed Ellie's gaze settle on his Bronco, a look of curiosity on her face.

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

You were a mess the rest of the weekend, texting Bradley late into the night on both Friday and Saturday after Ellie was in bed. You found yourself continually peeking at the selfie he sent you like a kid trying to find their Christmas presents early. He was just that damn good looking.

More importantly, he was sweet. He had invited you and your daughter to join him on a drive down to Imperial Beach to look at lights on Tuesday night, and of course you'd immediately agreed. 

Ellie and I wouldn't miss it.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll pick you up at six. I already have a little treat for the ride.

You giggled and flopped down on your bed, eyeing your wedding photo across the room. "I really like him," you said out loud with a grin. Then you texted Bradley back.

What kind of treat?

He must have been holding his phone, his response came that quickly.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Something pretty and sweet, just like you. I absolutely can't get you off of my mind. Not that I'm trying very hard.

"Okay," you said out loud, finding it easier to give yourself a little pep talk when he got you flustered like this. "You can do this. Be cool."

I thought you looked cute in your Santa beard, but your real mustache is even better.

There. Flirtatious but not too much. A solid response. You gave yourself a little pat on the shoulder. But then he upped the ante just a tiny bit by sending a selfie of him blushing. You groaned, because his mustache was immaculate, and you wanted to get your lips all over his cheeks and see if you could make his blush deepen.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I've been thinking about our first kiss on repeat. When Santa shows up on Christmas Eve, are you going to kiss him, too?

You laughed as you texted him back.

Yes. I think I have a crush on both of you.

Then you got yourself into bed, knowing it would feel like a very long wait for Tuesday night to arrive, but you fell asleep with a smile on your lips when he wrote back.

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Then I feel doubly lucky.

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

It was honestly a good thing you had so much to do for work, because it took your mind off of your nerves. But when Tuesday evening finally arrived, your hands were shaking as you tried to get ready in front of your bathroom mirror. You kept looking at the most recent text in your thread with Bradley, and it was bringing out your anxious energy. It was a simple message with a photo attached, but now you were second guessing everything. 

Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I hope I look good in pink.

He did. He looked fantastic in his pink and black floral print shirt. That wasn't the issue. It was your daughter's words echoing through your mind as she stood in the bathroom doorway that had you rattled.

"Hey, Mommy? Is Bradley going to be your boyfriend?"

You looked at her as you tried to put on some lip gloss. "Do you want him to be?"

"Maybe," she replied, eyes narrowing a bit. "I just need to do a little more research and make sure he's the one I asked for."

You almost laughed. You would have if you weren't so nervous. "What kind of research? And what do you mean the one you asked for?"

Ellie just shrugged in response. "I'll take care of it. You look pretty, Mommy."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed against the thing that was really bothering you and whispered, "If Bradley ever does become my boyfriend, he's not going to replace the memory of your dad. Understand?"

Ellie nodded and sighed sadly. "I understand. But you said he's not coming back."

"He's not," you confirmed softly. The sharp, stabbing pangs of sadness had dulled a bit over time, however you still felt one now. But you'd also spend days doing some soul searching over the fact that you knew you were attracted to everything about Bradley. You didn't feel as hesitant around him as you thought you would after losing your husband. After more than a year alone with Ellie, you felt like this could be something.

Then your daughter helped you push your thoughts aside as she said, "Bradley was pretty good at playing dolls, and I could teach him how to be even better. And he looked like he was good at holding your hand."

"Oh," you gasped, setting your makeup aside. You didn't think she'd seen that, but she didn't seem upset in the least about it. "Yeah... he was good at it."

"Is it almost time to go look at lights?" she asked you just as your doorbell rang.

"Oh god," you groaned softly, butterflies and unidentified nerves erupting inside you. What if you did something stupid tonight? What if you didn't even know what to talk about?

"He's here!" Ellie called as she ran for the front door with you right behind her. And when she swung the door open wide, there he was in his pink shirt with a bright smile on his face and two, oversized pink candy canes in one hand. 

"Hey, Ellie," he replied easily as she beamed up at him. Then he looked at you and his smile faltered a bit. He swallowed, and it took him a few seconds to greet you. When he did, it was just one raspy word. "Hi."

"Hi," you replied softly, and the butterflies were still going wild, but the nerves were replaced with longing. "Bradley."

Ellie was reaching for the candy canes, and he patted the top of her head, but he was still looking at you. "Hi," he repeated, and you couldn't help but laugh. "See, talking to you in person is way better than texting, even though you take all the thoughts out of my brain and all the words out of my mouth."

You ducked your head to the side and covered your embarrassingly large grin with your hands as Ellie asked, "Are these for my mom and me? Santa's usually the one who brings us pink treats."

"Oh," Bradley replied, "well, these ones are from me. I hope that's okay. I saw these fancy candy canes at the North Pole sweet shop and thought of the two of you."

Ellie was already unwrapping hers, and Bradley held the other one up right in front of his chest with a grin, coaxing you closer. "Thank you for the treats. And for taking us to look at lights," you said, letting your fingers meet his as you took your candy cane. 

"It's my pleasure."

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

Bradley didn't know really how booster seats worked, but you moved one from your car to his Bronco, and then Ellie climbed in. 

"Are we ready to look at lights?" he asked as he started the engine. 

"Yes!" she replied from the backseat. "Did Santa tell you the best place to go?"

"He absolutely did. And he remembered that you liked pink, so I'm thinking there might be a special surprise for you."

"Special surprise?" you asked from next to him in the front seat. It had been so long since he'd had even one passenger let alone two. When your fingers came creeping across the leather seat, he reached for your tentative hand and held it tight in his. 

"It's a surprise for you, too," he promised, hoping you had no idea what the grand finale of the drive through light show was going to be. 

You laced the fingers of your left hand with his right, and Bradley had to take a calming breath. He hadn't felt this strongly about someone in a long time, and he just met you. But his brain had already been filling in the blanks of how good it might feel to be around you the longer he got to know you, because the chemistry was definitely there. 

He glanced at your profile at a red light and reached with his left hand to turn on the radio to the station that was playing Christmas music. Then he pulled your hand a little closer to him as the light turned green, and he could see you smiling out of the corner of his eye. "How's that candy cane?" he asked Ellie, glancing in the rearview mirror. 

"Good! It tastes like cotton candy."

"Do you like cotton candy?" he asked, noting you were still holding your treat in your right hand.

"All kids like cotton candy!" Ellie squealed with a laugh.

"I like cotton candy. Does that make me a kid?" he asked her as he turned left toward the beach, the darkest streaks of pink and purple running along the horizon behind the setting sun.

She giggled in delight and so did you. "No, you're too big," Ellie told him. "Nice try."

"Harsh," Bradley muttered as he made another turn, and then the enormous light display along the beach came into view. "Okay, here we are." He turned your way as he pulled up to the kiosk to pay, saying, "I'm going to need my hand back."

You immediately pulled your hand away from him and hurriedly said, "No problem," as he reached for his wallet. 

He chuckled and said, "It's coming right back to you once I pay, so don't get too comfy."

"Oh, I can pay!" you tried to insist as you scrambled for your bag on the floor by your feet, giving Bradley enough time to hand over some cash and pull through the gate toward the light displays. 

"Absolutely not," he said as you gave up and tossed your bag back to the floor. "Now where did your hand go?"

You turned to look at him before glancing back at Ellie who was mesmerized by the lights all around the Bronco. "Right here." And then Bradley felt your hand slip into his grasp where it already felt like it belonged. 

"That's better."

He barely took his foot off the brake pedal to keep coasting forward behind the car in front of him, and he hummed along to the music on the radio. Ellie's commentary from the backseat was pretty amusing with her occasional interjections of "Frosty!" and "Rudolph!" 

The light display was massive, and there was a long line of cars in front of them, which was great. Bradley didn't want to rush taking the two of you back home again. Especially not when you leaned in a little closer to him and whispered, "Thanks for this. She's having a great time."

Bradley came to a stop in front of a lit up display of ice skating penguins and turned to face you. "So am I. Been having a pretty great time since I met the two of you."

You whimpered, and Bradley squeezed your hand a little tighter as he fought the desire to lean in closer and kiss you. Then you whispered his name, and he nearly lost the battle. "Bradley. Are you still going to want to see us after Christmas?"

When he opened his mouth to tell you he wanted to see you every day, Ellie gasped in the backseat. "It looks like Santa's sleigh!"

Bradley turned to face forward, and sure enough, Santa's sleigh was just ahead, and the other cars had started to move up as well. "Sure does," he replied to her as he coasted forward so she could see. Now you were looking at the lights as well, and Bradley watched all the colors dance across your face. When you tilted your head to look at him, he said, "I'm going to want to see you as much as you'll let me."

A soft smile curled along your lips as he kept moving the Bronco forward. You didn't respond, but your fingers laced with his again, and Bradley could feel your thumb stroking along his. He took that as a pretty good sign, and then you and Ellie both started to laugh at the same time.

"Hey," Bradley said when he saw them, too. "A bunch of pink flamingos for my two pink loving girls."

"I love them!" Ellie gushed, clapping her hands as Bradley pulled up between two light displays of hundreds of flamingos wearing Santa hats. "So much pink!"

Then your lips were on his cheek before brushing back toward his ear, and he had to stop the Bronco again as your hand grazed his knee. "This is the best," you laughed softly. 

If you wanted to, he'd bring you both back tomorrow and the next night and the night after that. He wanted to watch your face illuminated by the pink lights as you bit your lip and smiled. He wanted to hear Ellie's laughter from the backseat while she sang Jingle Bells. 

Bradley moved the Bronco as slowly as he could so you could enjoy the flamingos for as long as possible. Then he drove through fake snow being blasted at all of the cars which somehow made him feel like he was back in Virginia again.

"I do not miss the snow," you told him, cradling his hand like you did this all the time. He very carefully pulled back out onto the road using one hand, because the last thing he wanted was to let go of you. 

"But Mommy, what if it's snowing at the North Pole?" Ellie asked. "How will we visit Bradley?"

Shit. He didn't know what to say, because he didn't want to confuse her or mess this up. "Maybe after the busy holiday, Santa will let me spend a little more time in San Diego so you don't have to brave the snow again."

Ellie hummed skeptically from the backseat as Bradley wound his way back through the neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city. "Yeah... that might work," she replied. "I'm going to have to stay up on Christmas Eve and have a conversation with Santa."

"I'll remind him to bring his A game," Bradley muttered. "Now let me drop the two of you off since you still have school tomorrow."

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

You watched Bradley lift Ellie out of his Bronco, and then he moved her booster seat back to your car for you. When he walked both of you up to the porch, he had his hand at the middle of your back, his fingers teasing at your waist in the cool, night air. When you approached the front door, however, he knelt down in front of Ellie and asked, "Did you have fun?"

"Yes!"

"Should I tell Santa that was a good light display?"

"Yes!"

"Did you like the flamingos?"

"So much!" Then she flung her arms around his neck and said, "Thank you." The fact that your daughter seemed perpetually happy around this man whether he was dressed as Santa or just being himself had you nervously wiping your palms along your jeans.

"You're welcome. I'll see you soon?" he asked, patting the top of her head as he stood, eyeing you as he asked the question. 

"Yes," you answered quickly as you opened the front door. You paused once Ellie walked inside, and you turned toward her. "Start getting ready for bed. I'll be up in just a minute."

"Okay. Bye, Bradley."

"Bye, Ellie," he replied with a laugh, but you were already pulling the door closed, leaving you and him alone on the porch together. 

"Hey, I had a great time-" he began, but you cut him off when you lunged for him. You couldn't help it. Bradley caught you in his big arms, and wrapped you up tight against him as he grinned. "-with you tonight."

Your fingers were tangled in his soft curls as your lips mashed against his, but even with you pressed right up to his body in desperation, he was a gentleman. His hands were splayed across your back, rubbing up and down, slowly bunching the fabric of your shirt.

"Me too," you promised between kisses, nodding slightly as you nibbled on his lip. He hummed softly as your hand drifted down to the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue tasted sweet, and you felt beautiful and desirable when you were with him.

But you broke the kiss and whispered, "I need to get Ellie in bed."

"Right. Right." He was still holding you close, still slowly rubbing your back with his hands. And then you kissed him one more time, because you needed to. It was soft and perfect just like Friday when you helped him decorate the tree. "I'll see you soon," he whispered as his nose grazed your cheek.

You felt your whole body tingle as he pressed one more slightly rougher kiss to your lips before turning back to his Bronco. You had to fight the urge to chase him down for more, waving like an idiot as he pulled away instead. There were just a few more days until Christmas, and you wondered if it would be too forward of you to tell him that he's the only thing you wanted for yourself this year.

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

Bradley took a deep breath as he pulled on his red flight suit and grabbed his matching hat and white beard. It was getting late for Ellie to still be awake, but you'd promised him it was okay to stop by around 9:30. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but he hoped she was still excited to see Santa. 

With Christmas music playing and wrapped gifts on the front seat, Bradley spent the drive over trying to decide how to explain to your daughter that he was the same person when he was dressed as Santa and when he was just himself. Just Bradley. And then he started to get antsy. Just Bradley. He didn't have much to offer to either of you. Just a guy who occasionally got deployed and suddenly liked the color pink.

When he parked in front of your place, he sat for a minute, afraid he was going to do or say the wrong thing. If Ellie still believed in the magic of Santa Claus, he didn't want to take that from her. He glanced toward your front window and saw movement. The two of you were dancing in front of the lit up pink tree, and a smile found its way to his face. 

"Just be Santa," he said out loud, snatching up the presents and closing the door behind him. 

With his beard and hat securely in place, he knocked and immediately heard Ellie squeal. "It's Santa! I just know it!"

And then she was there, swinging the door open so quickly, Bradley was surprised it stayed on the hinges. "Merry Christmas," he greeted, getting the wind knocked out of him by the five year old launching herself at him and by how cute both of you looked in your matching pink snowflake pajamas. 

"Santa!" Ellie gushed, reaching for his hand to lead him inside. "We made you some heart shaped cookies with icing!"

"I love that," he replied, but his eyes were stuck on you. Bradley could just tell you'd welcome a kiss from him right now, and he wanted to give you one, but instead he followed you over to the tree.

"Cookies and some hot chocolate," you told him, picking up a plate of sweets and that same mug he drank from last week. "Just for you, Santa."

Bradley set down the presents, including the art kit filled with every shade of pink paint anyone could possibly want. That's when he noticed that instead of eating the pink candy cane he gave you on Tuesday night, you'd hung it on one of the tree branches. He was already smiling when he saw the little box with a gift tag next to his boot that said "TO: SANTA. FROM: ELLIE."

"This is for me?" he asked, bending to pick it up. 

Ellie nodded, looking up at him hopefully. "I made you something."

"Well then I'm sure I'll love it," he replied. 

He was just starting to unwrap his gift when Ellie turned toward you and asked, "Mommy, would it be okay if I talk to Santa alone for a minute?"

Bradley's fingers stilled as you nodded and softly said, "I'll just go sit on the steps." You bent to kiss the top of Ellie's head before smiling softly at Bradley, and then you were gone. And he was alone with a child who was eyeing him with such curiosity, it made his heart beat a little faster.

Ellie tugged on his hand until he was kneeling, and then she leaned in a little closer. Bradley felt like he was under a microscope as she examined him, but then she smiled. 

"You were a very convincing fake Santa. But after you brought the tree over, I knew it was you right away, Bradley." 

"You did?" he asked, heart plummeting as her words washed over him. If he just ruined Santa Claus for this adorable little girl, he didn't know what he'd do with himself. 

"Yeah. I figured out that you were the same guy since both Santa and Bradley drive the same car and have the same voice."

Oh, shit. His eyes went wide as she pulled his beard down below his chin and smiled at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't actually intend to lie to you about being a North Pole handyman."

"I know," she said, taking his gift from his hand and opening it up for him. Inside the box were two Christmas ornaments. They were made out of construction paper with popsicle sticks glued to look like pictures in frames, and there were ribbons attached to the top so they could be hung. 

"Ellie," he whispered, taking them both out of the box to inspect them more closely in the soft, pink light. She'd taken the time to draw pictures on both of them. The first one said ELLIE and had a well drawn F/A-18 and some elves along with a pink candy cane and three flamingos. The other ornament said SANTA and was complete with pink flowers, a pink tree and a picture of a man. "Is that supposed to be me?" he asked her softly.

"Yeah. But just you, Bradley. Not really Santa."

"Thanks," he muttered, not sure how to tell a five year old that this was perhaps the best gift he'd ever received in his adult life.

But now she was standing with her hands on her hips. "I need to know what happened when you went to talk to the real Santa after the air show. And don't lie to me this time."

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart beating faster again.

"Since you got permission to dress as a pretend Santa for kids like me at the air show, you get to sometimes talk to the real Santa Claus, right?"

Oh. Maybe he hadn't completely fucked this up after all. "Of course. That's how it works when you get chosen to be a Santa representative."

"Yeah," she said, nodding like a CEO closing a business deal. "That's what I thought."

"You're a very smart kid," he told her with a smile, but clearly she wasn't quite finished with him yet. 

"So? What happened when you talked to him? Did Santa know you'd be perfect? Is that why you kept coming back to our house to see my mom?"

"Perfect?" he asked cautiously.

She grinned at him as she said, "Yeah. The perfect boyfriend for my mom. The one I asked for."

Bradley was speechless. That's what he wanted to be. Your boyfriend. Maybe more than that someday. His eyes roamed Ellie's face, so innocent in the way she still believed there was magic here. But maybe there actually was. "Yes. That's exactly what happened, Kiddo. I went to meet with Santa, and I told him what was on your wishlist. And I told him how important it was that you got everything you wanted since you're always on the nice list."

She clapped her hands and bobbed up and down. "And he knew you'd be the perfect boyfriend?"

"Yeah," Bradley said, throat tight with emotion. "He knew I'd fall for your mom and you and the color pink and just all of it."

She hugged him tight, and he scooped her up and hung both homemade ornaments on the pink tree. "Merry Christmas," she whispered.

"Merry Christmas," he replied. "Think it's okay if I talk to your mom now?"

She nodded, and he carried her to the stairs where you were sitting with your own mug of hot chocolate waiting for them. "You ready for bed, Ellie?" you asked, looking between your daughter and Bradley with his beard down below his chin with some concern. 

Then Ellie kissed his cheek and said, "Goodnight, Bradley," as he set her down on the steps next to you. 

"Night, Ellie," he replied, and he watched her kiss you too before climbing the stairs and going into a room that was lit by the soft glow of a nightlight. And then you and he were alone, and you were sliding over to make room on the step next to you.

Your hesitant smile made him a little lightheaded as you asked, "So she knows you're Santa from the air show?"

He chuckled softly. "Something like that. But don't worry, she still knows that the real Santa exists. She's got quite the imagination."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about that," you replied, setting down your mug and reaching for his hand. It was the easy way you laced your fingers with his once again that spurred him on. You were grinning as he leaned in to kiss you, his white beard tickling your chin. "Hi, Santa," you whispered against his lips, and he just knew this was how it was supposed to be.

When he pulled away from you with a smile of his own, he said, "There's something I need to tell you. About the day we met."

Your brow creased in concern, and he leaned in to kiss you there as you asked, "What about the day we met?"

He wanted to be delicate with you and take his time. It's what you deserved. You and Ellie both. But he also wanted to once again make his feelings crystal clear for you. "That first day, at the air show... when I took Ellie up to sit in my jet, she asked for a pink tree and an art kit with pink paint." Bradley paused, stroking his rough fingers along your soft cheek before he added, "But she also asked Santa to bring a boyfriend for you."

You gasped. "She did? My five year old asked Santa to bring me a boyfriend?" You buried your face in your hands and groaned softly. "That's so embarrassing."

Bradley gently peeled your fingers away from your face as you grimaced at him, but he just laughed. "It's not embarrassing. It's sweet." He waited until you were looking at him again, even though you were nibbling on your lip a little anxiously. "And the thing is... somehow, I think it's supposed to be me."

When your lips parted on a soft sound, your face looked hopeful, and Bradley squeezed your hand as you barely whispered, "You?"

"Yeah. Me," he told you with a little laugh. "I'm nothing special, but I'm hoping you'll let me give Ellie everything she wants for Christmas?"

You slowly climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes bright and sincere. "You want to be my boyfriend?"

"Desperately," he promised. "And I'm not trying to replace Ellie's dad, and we can do this at whatever pace works for the two of you. But I think this was meant to be."

And then you were smiling against his lips and kissing him as he held you on the steps. You laughed as you pushed your fingers through his hair, sending his red hat down the stairs followed by his beard.

"Then I guess Ellie can have everything from her wish list."

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

One year later....

"The tree looks beautiful," Ellie said, hanging up the two ornaments she made last year as you and Bradley each sipped mugs of hot chocolate. The pink Christmas tree stood tall and proud in the same spot it had occupied until February, when you finally convinced her it had to come down after Valentine's Day. 

Bradley had gone overboard, perhaps even more so than last year, coming home from work a few hours ago on Christmas Eve with more pink ornaments for your daughter to add to her collection. 

"You're spoiling us," you told your boyfriend, and you watched a grin bloom on his lips. But maybe you were spoiling him back just as much. This year, you and Ellie had on matching pink pajamas covered in gingerbread cookies, and Bradley had coordinating pants to wear with his white undershirt. It felt good to have him here, like he was always meant to step in when he did. 

"I love spoiling you," he whispered, taking your empty mug and collecting you in his arms. "I love spoiling both my girls."

You and he took things slow at first. He spent the night with you last Christmas Eve, his limbs tangled up with yours in your bed. But your clothing had stayed on, and his lips never went further south than your neck. After that, you fumbled your way through a few dates with him; sometimes Ellie joined the two of you, and sometimes she stayed with Bradley's best friend and former elf, Natasha. But you quickly learned that you hadn't forgotten how to be with someone intimately. All you needed was the right someone who would let you realize that for yourself.

Bradley moved in with you a few months ago, and you hadn't looked back. He was becoming an expert at playing dolls with Ellie, and he made both of you so happy, sometimes your face hurt from smiling so much. He wasn't a replacement, and he wasn't an improvement, but he was something you knew you couldn't live without now.

"Hey, I almost forgot," he murmured. "I grabbed two more things on my way home today. I'll be right back." 

When he left the living room, you walked over to Ellie and kissed the top of her head. "I'm really happy we got Bradley for Christmas last year," she said, making you laugh.

"Me too. It's a good thing you asked Santa to bring him for me."

She looked up at you with wide eyes and a little smirk. "Just wait until you find out what I asked for this year."

You looked down at her with an amused smile. "What did you ask for this year?"

But she was distracted now as Bradley came back in with a soft smile on his lips and two small pink boxes. He knelt down in front of Ellie and handed her the bigger one, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Kiddo," he whispered.

"Merry Christmas," she told him, and when she opened the box, you gasped. 

"Bradley."

He got your daughter a rose gold necklace with a pink diamond charm, and Ellie squealed in delight when she saw it. "It's so pretty!"

"Just like you," he said, taking it out of the box and clasping it around her neck. She wrapped one hand around the charm and smiled as Bradley turned to look up at you. "I got something for your mom, too."

At first, when he handed you the smaller box, you were convinced it was a necklace to match Ellie's. But then you met his eyes, and you knew it wasn't. Your heart was racing as you looked at him, fingers shaking with anticipation as he said, "I love you. So much. The last year with you has been magical, and I want to be here forever."

You glanced at Ellie, and she was all bright smiles as she bounced up and down as you opened the box. "Oh," you gasped, because it was the prettiest pink ring. And it did match her necklace.

When you looked up from the box and met his eyes, he asked you something that you already knew the answer to. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!"

You held the box tight as he stood and spun you around the room in his arms, his soft laughter filling your heart as Ellie loudly cheered, "I asked Santa for a husband for my mom!"

You laughed as Bradley smothered your face in kisses, and then he pulled the ring free before tossing the box aside. As he slid the rose gold and pink diamond ring onto your finger, he grinned and said, "Santa never disappoints."

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

Happy holidays! I hope Santa Bradley brings you everything from your wishlist! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger @cherrycola27

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

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[multifandomgirl08]

She's Not Acid Nor Alkaline [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Max and Reader have a night away from the kids in Santorini for the 2027 FIA Prize Giving Gala.

Warning(s): Implied sexual content

A/N: Title taken from Alkaline by Sleep Token

Words: 1.1k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Another late-night Gala, another trophy to fill up space on the built-in shelves in the living room back home. You and Max were in Santorini for the FIA Prize Giving Gala. Max was playing on his laptop while you were in the bathroom getting ready. You had showered earlier and had just finished up your hair. You ran through your normal makeup routine, making your eyeshadow a little darker than normal, and would put on your lipstick right before you left.

When you walked out of the bathroom, Max was sitting at the table that looked onto the living room, his eyes glued to the screen, talking to the team Redline guys, trading jokes, and screaming when a match was lost.

“This is unfair,” Max said to no one in particular. It was a few moments before you heard back again. “Gianni, it was 1 and 3, and now…”

“No! Chris. Why?!” Max yelled. You stood there in a tan silk robe, laughing at Max. He got so passionate when it came to sports, even if he wasn’t the best at it. You lightly tapped your knuckles against the doorway before Max looked up from his screen to you. He gave you a good up-and-down look, and you thought you could see his cheeks blush a light shade of pink. He pulled off one side of his headphones.

“Bathrooms free.” You said. Max dropped his eyes back to the screen, and if you didn’t know better you would think that he was spacing out looking at the screen. You could hear a light commotion from his headphones.

“I’m not distracted, I can only stay on for one more.” Max quickly rattled off into the mic pulling his headphones back on fully again.

You quickly left the room after, going to pull out the dress that you were going to wear to the gala, and the shoes out of the dust bag that was in your luggage.

Just as you unzipped the dress from its hanger you could hear Max’s bare feet against the tile of the floor. Max came into the bedroom holding a bottle of sparkling water, placing it on the dresser in the room while you pulled the sash from your robe off.

“You distracted me from the game, Bennett was yelling at me,” Max said, still standing there in his sweats. He would need to get changed in a few or you would be late.

“Next time you talk to Luke tell him I’m sorry.” You moved to pull on the thigh highs you were going to wear under your dress. You pulled the right one on and then quickly followed with the left, being able to clasp them into place so they connected to the garter belt that you wore.

You could feel Max’s eyes on you again, watching you before you stood up and moved towards your dress.

“We lost to the computer, mijn leeuwin.” It didn’t sound like Max was all that upset about losing to the computer.

“I’m sorry, Maxy. I didn’t mean to make you lose.” You teased him with the dress in your hand, careful not to wrinkle the fabric. You peeked up at him through your lashes, noticing that his blue eyes looked like they were a shade darker than normal but that just had to be the lighting. You didn’t have time to… do what that look would normally suggest.

“Can you zip me up?” You asked. Max gave a half-hearted nod. You quickly stepped into the dress, pulling it up so Max could zip you in before feeling him pull you in closer by your hips, carefully spinning you around to zip up the dress all the way up past your strapless bra. His hands moved up a bit, his long fingers dancing over the fabric before you turned back to look up at him again.

You let your eyes drop to Max’s lips, seeing him press them together into a line and then letting his plump lips settle into a crooked grin, with a deeper pink covering his lips. You leaned into him just a bit more, letting your lips brush his, just as his hands grabbed your hips.

“Nu uh,” You said, pulling away knowing that Max would be able to take you out of the dress you had on in record time. “We’re going to be late.”

“Tease,” He said, standing there watching as you walked away to get your shoes.

You laughed picking them up from the floor. You heard Max let out an audible huff as he pulled his t-shirt and pants off, moving to pull out the black slacks you had sent to get ironed this morning.

“I’m a sure thing and you know it.” You placed your hands on your hips. Max dropped his slacks to the bed, pulling you into his arms, and made sure to kiss you hard. His hand cupped your face, running the fingers of his other hand over the zipper at the back of your dress, pulling you to the closest flat surface that he could find.

You were so glad you weren’t wearing lipstick right now.

It took another 30 minutes before Max helped fix the skirt of your dress back into the right place, was finally buttoning up his white dress shirt, and then slid his shoes on. You finished applying your lipstick standing in front of the mirror, Max had come up behind you holding his bowtie up. You always found it funny that he still insisted on wearing the one that was slightly oversized. You had placed the lipstick tube down, turning around to tie it around his neck.

“You look so good,” You said to him. Max truly didn’t know how good he looked in a suit, however he had yet to complain about how ridiculous he thinks he looks.

“I feel like a damn doll.” He said as you straightened the bowtie. There he went again.

“Well, I think you’d give Ken quite the run for his money.” You reached up to peck him on the lips. He gave you a small pout slightly furrowing his brows with his hands clutching at the fabric at the bodice of your dress. You moved to lock your arm around Max’s, lightly pulling him out of the bathroom with you.

He pulled his tux jacket off the back of the desk chair, and you got your shawl and bag off the top of the desk.

Max quickly lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing the band of your wedding ring, and then opened the door for you letting you walk out.

You would both be suffering through the Gala together until it was time for Max to get up on the stage and accept his trophy, again. You would be the one person in that room who was the most proud of Max, after Christian of course.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen, @shelbyteller , @geniusalpaca, @princessria127 , @mysticalnightenthusiast , @green-thots , @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp , @ellelabelle

[madwcman]

Mess It Up

wc: 1.2k | miu masterlist

cw: second chance romance, shy! reader, plus! size reader, implied (?) anxiety and mother issues

“I keep thinking maybe if you let me back in, we can make it better, breaking every habit.”

You currently have two problems at the moment. One, you’re late to meet your friends and two, your jeans don’t seem to fit right today. Standing in the mirror you couldn’t help but glare at yourself. Something was off. your jeans felt too tight around your waist. It made you uncomfortable. You know it’s your mind tricking you but you can’t seem to get rid of that voice in your head. You have to think of a solution fast.

You couldn’t help but sigh, as you were rushing out of your apartment, in your uncomfortable jeans to meet Mary ; Lily ; Lily's new boyfriend and new boyfriend’s friends. You were nervous to say the least. You hated meeting new people. You hated speaking. Each time You spoke You felt clumsy and awkward with your words. you can’t help but fell a little sad. You used to know how to speak with your mind when you were seventeen, but now at the age of twenty you think all you can utter is stiff and unbearable small talk.

But you had a little hope. You have Mary to buffer off of today. Mary loves to talk. And you were forever grateful for that. That means you won’t have to say much today. Hell Mary might even introduce you to Lily's new boyfriend and his friends for you! In fact you’re counting on it.

Stomach queasy, jeans tight around your chubby stomach, and mind screaming for you to turn around and leave. You open the door to the pub, nose twitching to the smell of greasy foods and cheap beer. But you smile, though this place reeked; it was one of your favorite spots to meet with Lily and Mary. You have so many memories here.

“Y/n! Over here!” your eyes glanced over to your friend, Mary, who is not at your regular table. she sits at a slightly larger table. Although you’re still feeling nervous you can’t help but smile at the dark haired girl who’s slightly standing with her hand raised high, waving at you to join her. You wave to Mary as you walk over.

“You look great!” Mary stands, wrapping her arms around you. Hugging you tightly. you always seem to calm around Mary. You don't feel as jumpy from when you walked it.

“You too!” you try to smile, with your mouth open showing your teeth. Showing you’re very happy to be there, but somehow it always feels awkward. Unnatural in a way. You smile again, this time mouth closed but your smile is wide. Though you were dreading coming today, you already feel it’ll be okay.

“Hey!” you and mary turn to look at your third friend, rushing up to greet her.

Lily smiles, her eyes crinkle. you’ve always found Lily beautiful. Her body has always been nicely curved, skin freckled, loose curly hair that was a nice shade of red and beautiful green eyes that always stood out. Lily always looked lovely. “This is James.”

Letting go of Lily, you turn your head over to your friend's new boyfriend. James was tall. He was a few inches taller than Mary who stood at five-eight. He had to be at least six feet tall. His complexion was bronze and glowly, his smile was bright. It was contagious. His hair was dark, wild and curly. He wore something simple. A white shirt with a brown button up over it, with blue jeans. His wide rimmed glasses stood out. They fit him perfectly.

“Hello!” He smiled rather crookedly, raising his hand in hello. You decided right then and there he’d be good for Lily.

“Hi, is it just you?” Though polite, Mary couldn’t help but be blunt.

“Er- no, my mates-“ before James could finish, two more boys strolled in.

Both boys were pale and had blue eyes, the shortest of the two lad’s had a red face that looked like it came from sunburn over the summer heat, with blond hair that only slightly curled at the end. And though he had blue eyes like the other boy his was a darker blue. The taller boy clearly used sunscreen unlike the other, his skin had no signs of redness. His eyes were light blue- an almost silver like color. His hair was long, curly and dark. He was very pretty.

“I’m Sirius.” he smiles, and claps the smallest boy on his back. “This is Peter, but we call him Pete.”

“I told you to not call me that, idiot.” Peter snips at his friend, taking Sirius’ hand off his back. “I’m Peter!” he turns back to the girls, reintroducing himself.

“Where’s moony?” James looks over to his friends with a concerned look on his face.

“He’s on his wa-“

“I’m here.” Your heart dropped at the sound of the man’s voice. You turn your head and your jaw drops a little. You’d never thought you would have to run into him ever again. Remus Lupin, your once best friend, now just a stranger.

It was strange seeing Remus again. He was taller, his face and body more built and leaner than You remembered. His scars are still the same. One large and faded scar across his nose. starting from his left cheek to the right one. Another scar slightly crossing the original scar vertically on his left cheek continuing to cross over his left eye and eyebrow. He has another few small scars on his chin and lower lip. He still has his small freckles (which he desperately hated) from when he was a boy. His hair was still a chocolate brown color, the only different thing about his hair was it wasn’t just a mop of curls like the last time you saw him, his hair was shaped into a nice mod cut.

You were surprised at how Remus could look the same yet, so different. you were shocked. He seemed to be a little caught off guard when you both made eye contact.

Lily breaks the small tension, with the clap of her hands. “Great now that everyone’s here, I believe you two need to introduce yourselves!” She turns over to you and Mary, waiting.

“I’m Mary.” Mary smiles, keeping her distance. Not knowing what else to say. Turning her head over to you.

“Oh, and I’m Y/n.” You say it a little awkward, feeling slightly embarrassed. Sirius can’t help but laugh a little. “You don’t speak much, do you?” He asks, a charming smile in tow.

“That's our Y/n, she doesn't really talk around new people.” Mary offered, wrapping her arm around you. Her smile wide. She always thought your “shyness” was adorable.

You couldn’t help but feel flustered and self-conscious. It was true you never really talk while being introduced to new people. You grew shy overtime with speaking. Your mum always used to say you always talked too much. So you taught yourself to quiet down.

You glance at Remus, his eyebrows were raised in question, his eyes squinting. You couldn’t help but look at the scar that went across Remus’ left eyebrow. It was long and it always stretches when he lifts up his eyebrows. You always couldn’t help but stare at it, it suits him. You liked it. but, you knew Remus was trying to read you. You already knew what he was thinking: when did y/n y/l/n become shy? You could laugh, you started quieting down when Remus left.

Looking away from his scar, you met his dark brown eyes. His stare still hard and questioning. All you could do was shrug. You had nothing to say, not anymore. Looking back to Mary and Sirius you pulled away from Mary and took Sirius’ hand, shaking it with a closed and timid smile.

[ladybyakuya]

MOONLESS NIGHTS.

cws ✦ fem!reader, boyfriend!vash,pussy-drunk!nai, mention of ovulation, periods, consensual, m→f-oral-receiving, polyamory if you squint.

syn ✦ an impromptu movie night turns out to be more interesting than the movie.

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“Oh my my Nai, are you okay?” Vash asks while he chuckles. You can feel his chest reverberate at your back but the sensation is too short-lived to be negligible. Nai does not respond to his brother, just hums as he buries his face deeper into your cunt. His nose is practically rubbing up and down at the apex of your pussy while his tongue is in between your folds.

Vash places a soft kiss against your temple. His hands are clamped over your knees keeping your folded legs far apart from each other providing Nai as much space as possible so that he can have a taste of you. Your ovulation period is going to end soon, maybe today or tomorrow or maybe now. Vash is going to make sure Nai remembers how you taste because you are going to taste different when your red week is over.

Nai has his eyes closed, hands underneath your thighs, fingers digging into your skin creating dips as he eats your pussy relentlessly. There is a yakuza movie playing on the television, a murder scene followed by a packed sequence of fighting but of course with jazz music playing in background. Needless to say, none of you are paying attention to the movie not even bothered enough to turn it off or turn the mute mode on. Vash said, “It’s a nice addition.”

You did not think a movie night with your boyfriend and his brother would end up with you being in between them. You can barely think swating his head away or moving or building up some sort of resistance. You do not want to move but have to keep the urge to buck your hips against Nai's face at bay because Vash would not like that. Vash just said, “Stay still baby. Stay still. Hmmm? ” to you, and when Vash says something in a firm even tone, you listen; you listen to him like the good pet you are to him, which is why he is sitting behind you with his chest against your back holding your legs for his dear brother, Nai. God! he's such a mess right now. You are no better. The velvet skin of the couch has turned into it's darker shade.

It actually started with mere a question.

“Nai, have ever gone down on someone?”

The crunch of popcorn seemed loud to your ears as Vash lets his arm encapsulate around your shoulders which was resting on the backbone of the couch a while ago.

“why are you asking?” You held your breath as another moment of silence lingers in the air.

“Just answer.” Vash states finally shifting his gaze on his brother who was still watching the movie, well at least tried to.

“No. Never. Didn't have the chance!”

What happened next was a delight to Vash’s eyes. You wet your bottom lip in a quick swipe of tongue.

Vash pulls you closer to his side saying, “Would you like to try?”

Nervousness crawled all over your skin and of course Vash noticed, you were his girlfriend after all. The room fell into silence once again, accompanied by a heavy tension that three of you were obviously aware of. Vash had always noticed the yearn in his brother's eyes from time to time for you. He is seeing it now so he did not hesitate one bit to explore more about it.

Vash brings his face near your ears whispering, “Why do you say love? Care to help my pathetic brother out?” It was not a question and you were aware of that.

Nai could hear him. The popcorn in between his index finger and thumb fell and rolled onto the floor. He could not believe his ears. Both of them were looking at you now and all you had to do was to nod.

And when you did, you did not had to do anything else. Just follow Vash’s lead that had Nai peeled off your jeans from your skin, followed by your underwear having your pussy at display as Vash held your legs open positioning you in Nai's direction.

Nai did not waste any time from putting his mouth in between your legs. In fact, you could feel how desperate and needy he became as he kept slobbering up your juices. You did not mind, neither there was any resistance of sort; just ownership and surrender. Nai could not get enough of you. Even though you came he kept going. Vash could feel how intense the orgasm was for you since the fingers that interlaced with Vash’s became too tight for a few seconds and then became so lithe that Vash almost felt lonely.

Nai straightens himself up to finally take a breather. With his wings and tentacles spreading out from his back, he looked so handsome, so divine, especially with that craving in his eyes for more. How come you never noticed it?

“Now,” Vash deadpanned, “kiss her.”

“But—” Nai hesitates so you hold his face in between your palms pulling him into a kiss. His breath hitches but he gives in. You kiss him quite long you think before you feel Vash’s cold hands slipping under your top, fondling your boobs over your bra. A moan escaped from you making Nai sink into your kiss deeper. You felt another pair of lips upon the croon of your shoulders, as Vash’s arms travelled down to your torso lifting you up a little to have you onto his lap.

Nai is now deprived of your soft candy flavoured lips. He looks at you with lustful yearn filled in his eyes. He just wants to be inside you.

“My turn,” Vash says as he positions you on his bare thighs. He can not wait to be inside you which is evident from how is cock protrudes from the slit in his crotch. He thinks that by the time the movie ends he will make sure that your hunger for this movie night is satisfied up to the brim. It was your idea to include Nai, after all.

networks | @interstellar-inn @the-all-stars-network @houseofsolisoccasum @pixelcafe-network @underratedcharactercorner

mutuals | @kentocalls @theoxenfree

[figgrrr0]

Heyy!! If head cannons are still open I’d love to see one about Tartaglia, Dulic, and Wonder react to fem!reader telling them about how they’re going to go on an adventure for a couple weeks to explore! (Sfw or nsfw is fine)

Their S/O goes on a solo adventure

Characters: Tartaglia/Childe, Diluc, Wanderer/Scaramouche // Reader: Gn

Genre: Smut // CWs next to the corresponding character

Tartaglia:

Cw: Rough sex, implied biting and pain play, public sex?

When you told him, Tartaglia would be surprised. He'd have to take a couple of seconds to silently collect himself, which from your perspective looked quite funny because of how stunned he was. He'd definitely make some kind of joke, like how he's the usually the one having to leave you for missions, and how heart broken he'll be if you go (how much of a joke really is that one?).

You'll be basically forced to spar with him before you go. He uses it as a ploy, saying that you have to convince him that you're strong enough to go alone, but really he just wants to spend as much time with you as possible – it only helps that it'd let you get a bit stronger. He also gets the chance to show you some new techniques! He only means well, and if at any point you do get annoyed by his showmanship, you can't help but feel your irritation be quelled by the proud look in his eyes and the smile he holds when you get it right.

We all know that Tartaglia is battlesexual, so it's only natural that your training session would lead to something more. He becomes more and more distracted on how dishevelled and sweaty you're getting, and he needs another outlet for all of his pent up energy from the fight, since he can't just completely let loose on you.

He'd take you right there in the arena, his movements fast and grip rough enough to colour you in the prettiest shades of purple. His exhilarated breaths puff into the side of your neck, kisses and bites and nips of all manner latching onto your pulse points; and if you'd been able to see his eyes from the place he'd taken over you, you'd have seen the outright love that he presented to you, just barely containing something more.

When all is done, Tartaglia would help you get redressed, as messy as you still looked with all of the fabrics torn, looking as though you'd been attacked by a wild animal. When you go to reprimand him with a swat to the arm, he just lets out a bashful laugh, taking you into his arms as he walks home, cleaning you up and setting you into bed for the rest of the evening. He knew that you'd need to... recuperate, to say the least.

And when you awake the next morning, unable to walk and sore all over, as well as completely covered in marks and bruises, some of which you had no hopes of covering, you knew that you'd have to reschedule your adventure. But, even though he was apologetic, you couldn't help but wonder if that was his plan all along...

When it really came time for you to leave, Tartaglia would let you go seemingly pretty easily, but says that you'll have to spend extra time with him when you return to make up for the lost time. He couldn't help but think of you almost constantly; even when he's working, questions of your safety would pop into his mind, overthinking the possibilities of dangers that could hold you back... as much as he knew you could fend for yourself, he couldn't help but worry. More over, his subordinates and even those who see him regularly would notice that he's been colder since you left, his face a blank slate and eyes darker than ever, and his temper easier to flare...

Diluc:

Cw: Soft sex (making love 🩷)

As soon as you mentioned your plans for an adventure, Diluc was immediately running through the list in his head of what he could help you with to ensure your safety. A part of him thinks that he should accompany you, in case something goes wrong and you need help, but the other side of him knows that you need your freedom. After all, even he needs a bit of space every now and then. And so, he insists that you let him make all of the arrangements, in terms of hotels for you to stay at and ordering provisions and equipment that could come of use. It'd really put his mind at ease to know that everything was taken care of.

On the morning that you are set to leave, Diluc wishes you good luck on your journey, accompanied by a sweet goodbye kiss that lasts longer than you'd expected, and holds the promise of a warm return. He spends that first day as he would any other, working away as though he'd never stop – maybe that had been his intention. Because he knew that his bed would be cold and empty without you by his side.

He tries not to think about you too much, because he knows that acknowledging your absence will only make things harder. He trusts you to take good care of yourself, and lamenting further would only run the risk of unnecessary worry, and of him ruining your journey by coming to find you. He manages to pass through the days that you are gone quite easily after the first few, a new idea fueling his work hours:

If he can get all of his work done while waiting for you to come back, he'll have even more time to spend with you; and so that becomes his goal, with the help of the maids keeping his self care relatively on track.

Upon your eventual return, Diluc is almost literally plastered to your side for at least a day or two. He's helping you unpack, and as soon as you're ready to relax and settle down, he's running you a nice, warm bath, of course with a couple of candles for ambiance.

When you've soaked for a while and get cleaned up, Diluc will be patiently waiting for you in your bed, where he'll immediately pull you into his arms, wanting to hear all about your adventure. Now, he's content to just cuddle; but being separated from you for longer than a week had been harder than he'd anticipated.

If you so choose, your first night back with Diluc would turn to breathless lovemaking, the thrusts of his hips precise and familiar – exactly what you'd been missing for weeks on end. He could easily get carried away. Being away from you means that he'd gotten used to being alone again, and having you here, so close and so sudden, can be a little overwhelming... his pace will pick up intermittently when he forgets himself, caught up in the smell and feel and sounds of you. he'll be much more vocal, too. His grunts and moans picking up in pitch while his mouth spouts his wandering thoughts, all entranced in you, a seemingly endless profession of his devotion.

Wanderer:

When he finally stills, he'd look you in the eyes, his gaze simultaneously hazy but clear as he leans down to kiss you one final time. And when you awake the next morning, having gone to sleep during the process of him cleaning you up, you find yourself still encircled in Diluc's strong arms, where usually he would have already been pulling on his shirt halfway across the room, ready to start his day.

Cw: slight blowjob, implied overstim, not dacryphilia but he cries, angst. (It's so hard for me to get a hold of his character)

The Wanderer's immediate reaction is frustration. He'll kind of shut himself off from the conversation, and when you pause your explanation, in wait of an answer from him, all he could force out is, "I don't exactly... approve of this decision, but you're free to do whatever you want." But his discomfort is obvious. He'll want to get away for a few hours to try and sort out his thoughts, knowing that he was probably being unreasonable, as much as he wanted to be selfish when it came to you.

In truth, his frustrations stemmed from his worry and insecurity; he doesn't even want to think about being forgotten again, especially not by you. But he can't accompany you, he wouldn't even be able to subtly work his way into your day like he usually does (not that he'd ever admit it). He'd just have to hope that you'll come back to him; and that uncertainty, that sheer dependency on another is what makes him second guess the situation.

However, when you find him again, really trying to settle his thoughts and lay out your intentions, only then does Wanderer finally manage to rein himself in. It'll take a couple of minutes for it all to sink in for him, but if you just stand by, maybe keeping a source of contact between the two of you – a hand on his arm, for example – to show that you're not leaving, well... that's when it'll finally click. He'll begrudgingly repeat his words from earlier, but this time, you can tell that he understands. He may not want you to leave, but when you do, at least he won't have a silent meltdown as soon as you're gone.

That being said, the final days prior to your departure, Wanderer will try and distance himself from you. In his mind, when you leave, the change won't be so sudden. It only makes sense to prepare in this way. So if you can't find him on the day you're set to leave to say goodbye, don't take it too personally; he doesn't think he could make it through an actual goodbye from you, and he doesn't want to look any weaker in your presence.

While you're away, there's a nagging thought in his head that won't go away, constantly telling him that he shouldn't have let you go alone. It'd get to the point that, at least once, he'd reluctantly have to go to Nahida for reassurance, to stop him from spiralling, or impulsively trying to find you.

Despite all of this, upon your return, it may feel as though he's purposefully avoiding you, but he's not. Not really. But he does want you to be the one to seek him out. He's feeling slightly petty that you left him alone, even though rationally he knows that you needed the time to explore; it's the nature of humans, after all. The easiest way to get him to "forgive" you is to sit him down and almost literally beg (I plays into his god complex really well, even though he knows that's why you're doing it).

Your Wanderer will also be deceivingly desperate for your touch, though. He needs your hands on him, passing over every inch of his body. He needs to feel your breath, your lips, your tongue, when you take him into the heat of your mouth. He needs to grip your hair, keeping you exactly where he needs to feel you most. And he needs to feel your rising heartbeat against his bare chest, when you finally slide him into your constricting walls, the drag more overwhelming than he'd ever remembered.

And when he turns his head, hiding the tears that you know fall so easily, that's when he knows that he can let you go; that you could be anywhere in the world, and still you'd come back to him. So when he no less than passes out straight after you've drained him as much as you felt was needed after so long away from each other, you have no doubt that he'll be back to normal, tomorrow.

Thank you for reading! 🩷

Want to send a request/brainrot with me? Check my rules!

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Stone Heart AU: Scar pt I

As much as Yuu tried, she still ended up in trouble in trouble sometimes. Be it with Ace and Deuce, or just running late from acting as Crowley’s unofficial gopher, it was something. The punishments usually weren't that bad though, sometimes even relaxing.  

Like right now, it was a little bit of a trip down memory lane as she scrubbed the statues down on Main Street. It was odd, having the dreams that she did that painted the Great 7 in shadows instead of light, but it felt...right. Balanced.  

A story about a maid who would be going to a ball was the current dream cycle, though she didn’t get the feeling this one was going to relate to any upcoming overblots. While they didn’t happen as often, she occasionally just dreamt of things like this. While there was a lot to ruminate over, like the stepmother and Professor Trien, right now it was just a catchy little song sung by the fairy stuck in her head.  

“Put it together-” The King of Beasts statue wasn’t in bad shape at least, “and what do you got-” Just had to get the moss out of his eye, “Bippity Boppity Boo!” 

The eye blazed green, cracking open with a clap of thunder!  

Yuu fell, catching herself with her hands. Shit! Did she break it? Damnit, she couldn’t afford- 

Wait. It looked fine. Just a wet statue.  

“Maybe I just need to finish this up.” She muttered. “Lack of sleep must be getting to me.”  

The atmosphere had changed, the tension of a storm about to break open. As she finished the King of Beasts, she clocked her progress and ran, feeling like eyes followed her until she turned the corner.  

Malleus must be in a mood, she thinks, watching the dark clouds forming and the green smoke that seems to be spilling out the fence of Ramshackle. It isn’t the right shade of green though, more muted and not as...saturated? The gate creeks ominously and it doesn’t take her long to notice the figure sitting on the porch of Ramshackle.  

He is hunched over, a shawl tossed over his head that was once bright with color and design, now faded to grays, browns and darker reds like blood. His left eye is as green as the Diasomnia mage crystals, clear and unclouded, and the right faded as the green smoke around him. A gnarled staff is gripped in his hands, a gourd tied to the top with a handful of what might be rib bones along with some sort of dried fruit she thinks.  

This isn’t a harmless man, her instincts can say that much, but...he doesn’t feel like a threat. He could be. He’s choosing not to.  

“How can I help you?” Yuu asks, getting a bit closer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you a teacher here?”  

He chuckles, making the pointed beard shake, but it’s not cruel. “I suppose that depends on you. I think you are in need of a teacher. And I am in need of a place to stay.” 

“What do I need to learn?”  

“Magic.”  

“Ha!” Yuu can’t help it, barking a laugh. “You are mistaken. I have no magic of my own.” 

“No, cub, you have magic, just not Wonderland magic. You have the Old magic, older even than General Lilia, the same as I. These teachers cannot help you, but I can.”  

He removes the shawl’s hood from his face, revealing a pair of brown lion ears and a mane that puts Yuu’s hair to shame. Even braided in parts to keep it out of his face, the long black hair stretches all the way down to his curved spine. A tail thumps against the dusty steps,  

“Afterall, you freed me, didn’t you?”  

It takes some explaining, a quick meal shared on her dining room table that feels even more rundown than usual with actual royalty sitting down. Thank the Seven that Grim was asleep beforehand, his new Spelldrive practices tiring him out in the evenings.  

“So, are the others...the same? Petrified?”  

“Yes, though you aren’t ready to free us all just yet. I was an accident, correct?” 

She flinches, nodding. “I mean, I guess? Sometimes I have dreams. Alternate tellings of the stories around here it feels like, or added details? Most of the time they follow an Overblot, but this one just felt like a non-threatening one. I don’t have these as often.”  

“Precognition is a dangerous magic, especially with no guiding tools.” 

“I dont know if-” 

“You dreamt of mine, did you not? Leona Kingscholar? The Phantom still was a part of me, drawn from my form and magic.”  

Yuu blinked, shrugging. “I mean, it didn’t stop it.” 

“No, but you were more prepared. You were willing and ready to accept Leona’s trauma and show compassion because you witnessed me make the exact follies and look at how that ended.” he huffed, taking a sip from his water. 

She hadn’t considered that really. It just felt natural, to show them kindness after all of it. But they were alike. Really alike. And the actions Leona had taken paralleled his perfectly.  

“Do you think if somebody had done so with you, you would have listened?” 

“Oh cub!” He laughed, and this one felt harsher. “I would not have. I was far too hardened. But Leona...he will be better.”  

“Well, I better try and at least get a bed ready for you.” She said, taking both of their dishes. “What do I call you though? King of Beasts is a bit of a mouthful.”  

He tilts his head, as if considering. She gets the dishes loaded and leftovers put away before he finally answers.  

“Taka. My Mother’s Son.” he says. “That’s who I wish to be now.”  

Yuu smiles, sticking out her hand.  

“Nice to meet you, Professor Taka! I look forward to learning from you.”  

For just a moment, he sees Simba, and Nuka and Kovu and Vitani. He sees Shenzi, Banzai and Ed. He sees naive and friendly and believes in him, for as little he has to offer, and still finds him worthy.  

He shakes her hand and hangs his stone heart to air out.  

[iheartjameshetfield]

Thinking about virgin!james eating pussy for the first time and going absolutely feral about it

need him to go down on me fr

no cuz this man is OBSESSED with eating pussy

even though he’s never done it before, it’s literally his dream

this man is so horny for you, he fr wanted to eat you out before he even lost his virginity. even though you told him many times he doesn’t have to do it now at least, he refused. he wanted to eat you out more than you wanted him to.

he’d rush to take off your shorts and panties, practically drooling at the sight of your slick cunt. he doesn’t waste a second to wrap his arms around each of your thighs and placing them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to his face as he delves into you. his tongue moves up and down, in circles, and every other direction you can think of.

he’s mostly just experimenting but the way you moan and swivel your hips against his face makes him think he’s doing something right. when your grip the roots of his hair to guide him, he groans into your pussy, stirring you on.

“oh, fuck, you’re doing so good baby. makin me feel so fuckin good”

those words pushed him to the edge, no longer being able to hold back as he grinds against the bed, getting off on getting you off.

he started testing the waters more often by shoving in a finger here and there, but eventually settled on fucking you with his finger as he eats you out like it’s his last meal.

“your nose, u-use your nose.” you’d barely say, your words getting cut off by your moans.

he’d obey you, using his nose to nudge your clit as the sounds of slurping gets louder. he inserts another finger, ripping out a loud moan from you as you climax all over his face. “so good, such a good boy.”

he moans from the taste of your cum and from the rutting against the bed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he licks you clean, making sure not to leave anything behind. when he’s done, he gives you one last strong suck before lifting his head to look at you.

“holy shit” his face is flushed red, admiring the sight of your sopping heat and laughing from how giddy he is that he made you finish like that.

when he climbs on top, you smile brightly at the sight of his nose and lips glistening from your wetness and you couldn’t help but make out with him, enjoying the taste of yourself on his tongue.

he starts to grind himself on you so that he could reach to his climax, not trying to quiet the noises coming out of him. he uses you as his own personal fuck toy until you notice how his grey boxers turn into a much darker shade on his crotch.

“thank you,” he’d whisper against your lips “thank you so much.”

but you flip him on his back, still getting started on a very long night.

this man is obsessed with pussy and you know it.

[theunaveragepsychoticbitch]

This Fucks

[Dry humping, but it gets wet pretty fast. AMAB Reader. AFAB Barbie. Grinding, daydreaming, pussy eating, Barbs wears panties at the end, Barbs calls you Master, crack-ish. Standalone series]

Pt. 1

And then he'd ride you, fast and hard. He'd feel you through your boxers, through his own panties. He'd claw at your shoulders when you grinded against his clit just right and tears would fall as his eyes fluttered. He'd scream out-

"I guess you like the outfit?" And- wait, no, that's not what happens.

An amused huff punctuated your sentence, and as you eye him, several realizations hit him at once:

One, he was unbelievably wet. The throb of his clit and the uncomfortable wet feeling of his underwear clinging to his skin left him barely able to hold back a grimace, less he have to explain that to you too.

Two, he'd gone completely still in his daydream. How long had he been staring blankly at you, red in the face and just barely starting to breathe heavy? The only thing that could make this worse would be if he'd been wearing his summer uniform, the layers thin enough you'd have definitely seen his nipples perking through his shirt.

Third- he was wearing the summer uniform.

"Yes, I, it's very nice... my deepest apologies."

Your response comes paired with a toothy smile, and he swears he can feel himself getting wetter. "No problem, I know you have a lot on your plate. Hell, I'm distracting you right now, aren't I?"

You definitely were, just not in the way you think.

"I'll text you tonight then, Barbs. See you later~"

He nods, sad to see you go. You're his favorite distraction, his most coveted one easily. You probably think you were being a nuisance now.

Barbatos walks you out, waving and watching until you turned the corner out of sight. He sighs, locking the door behind him and heading straight for the nearest bathroom.

-------

He's baking cookies for you today. Soft, melty chocolate chip- just how you like it. In fact, he's baking a variety of pastries: donuts and cupcakes, all in your favorite flavors. He's making an "I'm sorry" basket for his shameful behavior the other day.

As he begins to glaze the donuts, hands drift over his waist, settling in place and pulling him closer- ass first -to your dick. He could feel it through your uniform; did you just get out of class? The lingering scent of potions gone right and wrong alike met his nose, and he chuckled, eyes crinckling at the corners when he smiles.

"You didn't even bother to change, I see."

Your lick the cuff of his ear, whispering into it. "Needed you too bad." By all nine of the circles. There was a greedy rasp in your voice, like you could barely speak through your own desire. Your hands got firmer as they slid down to hold his hips. Your thumbs massage circles into his ass as you give a few test thrusts, seeing how thick the material on his pants were.

He looks back to find you scrunching your brows as if in deep focus.

"I want these off." You say, your tone deadpan.

Barbatos jumps to obey, donuts completely forgotten, and you help him, shimmying his pants down as he undoes the buttons. You undo your own, and then it's briefs to boxers as you hump him, rocking him against the counter and making his eyes roll back. He's obsessed with the feel of it, how hard it is, leaving no room for mistaking how much you want him.

He's close, fuck, fuck, he's so close. You are too, going by the way your thrusts get more and more aggressive. Barbatos' eyes squeeze shut, and as his peak gets closer and closer, he can feel that tightening in his stomach, making him tense up right before the big-

His eyes spring open, immediately locking on where his hands have burst an entire piping bag of glaze onto one donut. Embarrassment at getting so caught up paints his face a lovely shade of rouge, getting even darker as he realizes that glazed donut holes are not the best distraction for... well, glazing (non) donut holes.

Once again, his underwear clings to his cunt, providing the slightest friction against his senstive clit as he moves about the kitchen, cleaning up his mess.

He sighs as, also once again, he makes his way to his room to clean up a different mess.

(–>Himself)

--------

"Fuck me, you're doing great 'batos."

Your hands are on his hips, helping him bounce on your clothed boner. You've barely got ten minutes- you both have places to be. Him, a meeting, you, a class. But that didn't stop you from sliding your pants to your knees and leaning heavily on a side table in one of the castle's many forgotten salons, nor him from showing you the pretty pink panties he put on today in the hopes you'd get to see them.

With your bulge fitted comfortably between his cheeks, he switched from bouncing to rolling, gyrating his hips and crying out like a whore as you groaned into his back, sinking your teeth into the blushed skin of his neck. Just low enough the collar of his uniform covers it, of course. You're nothing if not courteous.

As your blunt nails sink into his flesh, Barbatos starts to wonder if this is what insanity feels like. Delirium colored with the pinks and reds of lust, your groans like a mantra in his ears he can't, won't, get rid of. The ache of his own pussy consumes him- you're breathtakingly close, yet it's never enough for him. His greed is as constant as his heart beat, a steady rhythm of "more".

Your chest to his back, your breath on his ear. He'd soaked through his panties long ago and knew they'd be nothing short of ruined when he came. Cumming on your cock, even through your clothes... it was so good. God, you felt-

"-so good! Thank you by the way, I never would have fixed that without you."

And just like that, the time demon returns to the present.

------

Despite the cold of the room, sweat rolls down the back of his neck as he thinks,

'What am I supposed to tell you this time?'

Barbatos can feel you staring at him, but it seems the floor is particularly interesting today. He can't keep his eyes off it- or rather, he can't keep his eyes on you.

A faint sunset pink dusts his cheeks, and in a manner much unlike his usual held-together persona, he fiddles with the edges and fingers of his gloves, tapping his foot against the shining wooden floors and licking his lips a rather unnecessary amount.

"Nervous?"

He chuckles when you ask, but there's no humor in it. He still doesn't look at you. He wishes he could go back to work. He's on his break right now, which he usually doesn't take, but took advantage of for your sake. It's only thirty minutes, but it feels like hours.

"There's no need for anxiety, Barbs. I just wanna talk..." You trail off into silence, polite on your part, suffocating on his. Leaning over, you take a sip out of the tea you personally prepared for this occasion. It held not so much as a candle to Barbatos', of course, but you thought it'd be a good change of pace for something like this.

'They're gonna hate me.'

He's so sure of it, not even a peek into the future would change his mind. You'd learn of his disgusting habits and shame him, then tell him you never wanted to see him again. It was inevitable.

"Barbatos,"

He tenses involuntarily at hearing his name.

"You've been distant lately, you know?" You watch his face as you talk, speaking slowly and gently, as if trying to calm a scared animal. "Avoiding me so actively that everyone has noticed, making excuses everytime I ask to hang out, and disassociating when we actually do. What's happening to us? Did I do something wrong?"

'Fuck.'

The thought is followed by budding tears in his eyes. He's ruined everything, and to top it off, you think it's your fault.

What the hell was he supposed to say to you?

"My apologies Master, I find myself lost in thoughts of your dick sandwiched between my asscheeks."?

Get serious.

....but as his own voice meets his ears, things do get serious. Very, very, very quickly.

The room empties of sound, not even a breathe to be heard. But as loud as his heartbeat is in his ear, there's no way you're deaf to it.

How the fuck did he accidentally say that aloud? Of all God-forsaken things-

"I... are you serious?"

For the first time since entering the room, he looks at you. Your face is oddly.... blank. He can't read your eyes, but your posture is rigid as you rest your forearms on your knees, hands tightly clasped around a small teacup.

There's no use lying now. It'd only serve to make things more awkward. This was his punishment, he was sure of it- to die in flames of embarrassment, haunted by this day for the rest of forever.

"I... suppose there are more choice words to be used. But yes. I want you quite badly, Master. Need you, even. And it's ruining my immortal life." The last part is no more than a whisper, but you hear him as though he yelled it.

"I know I've ruined our relationship. I've let your kindness go to my head, and find myself unsatisfied with standing quietly behind you. I wish to be by your side."

He's said so much, too much, but it's as if the words run from his mouth on their own. He bites down, almost drawing blood as his fangs dig into the soft skin.

You're silent, still as unreadable as a closed book. He feels out of place in his skin under your gaze. It's unwavering strength begins to unnerve him as he prepares for a verbal beating.

"Beside me, or under me?"

He'd say it's his turn to be speechless, but the shit eating grin on your face makes him think you knew exactly what you were going to say a long time ago.

Nevertheless, he answers seriously. Thinking back, it may have been the shock that made him answer so honestly.

"..both."

You smile wider, a wild look in your eyes.

"Both is good."

And in the following seconds, Barbatos was hit with realizations of several things, once again:

One, you were messy. The table was cleared of dishwear, utensils and food alike in a quick swipe of your arm. Hopefully, you didn't expect him to help clean it up later.

Two, you weren't and never have been a weakling. You lifted him with an ease he'd only seen out of Beezlebub, or Diavolo. Despite his size, he was pure muscle, and quite heavy. But you didn't even break a sweat as you held him bridal and layed him out on the table, gentle as a lover should be.

Three- it was just as big as he'd imagined.

You fit yourself between his legs, holding them wide open as you grabbed his waist to pull him to you. You whisper under your breath, and the lights flicker before dimming down. Your eyes are alight with something that scared him as much as it aroused him. It was bright, fierce, hot. Like passion, but so much more intense. It had to be in your blood, pumping throughout your whole body and heating your skin till it burned at the touch.

Scorching fingers caressed him through his clothes, dragging down his torso as if imagining how easily they could rip through the fabric, the shreds joining the shards of glass on the floor. Your bulge pressed into him more and more as you tried to get closer, as though dizzy-headed with the thought of fucking him deep.

God, he wanted you to fuck him deep. Maybe he was the dizzy-headed one.

"What did you dream about, Barbatos? Tell me everything, my love."

'Such a sweet talker.' He thought. But he lied if he said it didn't make his pussy throb.

"You had me just like this... with your face in my neck, telling me things, as you..." He blushes, and it encourages you closer. Chest to chest, your voice is a sultry whisper in his ear. "As I what, darling?"

He gulps audibly, nervous fingers grasping the sides of your shirt. You can hear a tremble in his voice, "You... you were dry humping me. Slow, but hard, and relentless. There were tears in my eyes."

He doesn't know what he expected, can't explain why his breath caught in his throat when you began to rock, slow, but hard. One hand cradled his face as he closed his eyes tight, overwhelmed by the drag of your cock over his clothes. You were pressing on his clit just right, even through the layers. Again...again, again, hah, agai-

"Ah!" He moaned out as you pressed especially hard. Your other hand was on his hip, and the bruising grip made him think you wanted this too more than anything else you've done so far. If he had to put it into words- you held him like you didn't think you'd ever get the chance.

"Fuck... tell me what I said, Barbatos."

It takes a few seconds, and when he finally finds his voice, his speech is interrupted by gasps of pleasure. "I.. hell, you- you told me how good I felt. That- fuck, Master- that you needed me. All the things you'd been waiting- hah, to do to me."

You kiss his neck, your voice low in his ear, but your words loud in his heart and mind. "You're perfect, Barbatos. Can you feel it? How hard you get me? Just looking at you- it drives me insane. Makes me wanna make you feel good."

The hand on his hip moves to undo his pants. He claws at your back as you speed up your strokes. "I'd go so deep, baby. Make you see stars. I wanna fuck you till you're sleep, till I'm the only thing you think of, till you call out of work."

You stop your administrations, and in the blink of an eye, Barbatos finds his panties are out where you can see them.

And yes- he is wearing the pretty pink ones.

"I'm gonna fuck you till you need me."

Like the asshole you are, you're much more gentle with your own clothes, getting them off just as fast yet leaving them mostly whole. Your dick twitches against the constraints of your briefs. It makes Barbatos salivate, the thought of having all of it on his tongue, down his throat, making him gag and cry. In his pussy, bruising his cervix and-

Why was he still imagining things, when the real thing was right in front of him?

Quick as ever you flip him on his stomach, smirking at how wet and sticky his panties have gotten. In this position, the fat lips pressed against the thin fabric in a way only describable as lewd. You drag a single finger down his slit, starting from his asshole and stopping at his clit. Watching him shiver as you dragged it back up, tremble as you go back down again. The shocked way he squeaks and grabs the table as you press on his clit.

You can't see his face when you put your own in it, licking him through the cloth, but you can definitely hear him. He's unabashedly loud, his hips acting on their own. Sloppy kisses make him squeal, and long strokes of your tongue make him moan. When you suck on his clit, he calls your name, a desperate cry that thanks you even as it begs for more.

"[Name], Cum- cumming. I'm-"

Your hand snakes down to grope at your dick as you eat him faster. You can taste him; his essence is all across your tongue and it's absolutely euphoric. He rocks a little harder every time you whisper how good he tastes into his clit, cries a little louder. You can hear how hoarse his voice is getting though. His screams are shadows of what they were, the scrape of his voice against his throat sending shocks through you. It all makes you suck him a lil harder.

And then he arches into your mouth, cumming on your tongue with a sultry moan from deep in his chest. Your eyes roll as liquid gold coats your tastebuds, the aftertaste like a mouthful of diamonds. Angelic whimpers meet your ears, and you can't help overstimulating him as you work to not waste a drop.

Barbatos swears that hours pass, but your clean up job only lasts a few more minutes. His head is heavy and light at the same time, not a thought to be found among the thick sex haze.

He feels like you shared your fire with him, the burning power shocking his nerves and waking his body up even as you suck him to sleep. Everything's so sensitive, too sensitive, yet you keep going...

Gods, please keep going....

Then you stop. He's left ass up and face down as you catch your breath. His own chest heaves, the tears that fell drying on his face or pooling between his cheek and the table. He should be worried about that, what a mess you'd made of him, of the room, of everything. But the only thing he could focus on was your breath, far too close to his sensitive, throbbing cunt.

Barbie's hips were bruised to the touch, yet he couldn't manage so much as a wince when you grabbed them again. You were much gentler this time, at least.

You pull him into your lap, a glimmer in your eye as his head lolls on your shoulder.

Slowly, tantalizingly so, you grind up into him. Weak he may be, he still tries to grip your wrists, settling for loosely wrapping his fingers around them. He feels your head come to a rest on his shoulder, and your hands move to interlock with his, dragging them with you as you wrapped both of your arms around his torso.

Borderline chaste kisses were peppered across his shoulders and neck as a pace was set. Barbatos didn't think he could take it- being humped like a whore, then grinded on mid-embrace like a lover dearly missed. The butterflies in his stomach stirred at the mix of emotions pumping through him, filling him with a ticklish, fluttery feeling that made giggles spill from his throat.

"...off."

He hums his confusion, and you try to be a little louder.

"Can I take these off?"

Your voice is a romantic whisper in his ear as you nod towards his panties, soaked through and leaving nearly nothing to the imagination by this point.

You asked so politely, and you made him feel so light, he couldn't find it in him to say no.

He blushes, and nods.

His panties are off in a snap! , pink pussy finally exposed. Now, his arousal soaked your briefs directly, and the twitch it gave at being so close to his warmth felt brand new.

The feel of the cold air against his hot cunt made him choke and sit up, breatheless gasps escaping in a flurry as you stroked the squishy lips, ghosting over his clit to circle his hole.

He watched your fingers drag arousal from his hole to where his bud ached, flicking it and making him cry. The tears streaked his skin as they fell fast down his cheeks. Watching you seemed to make it more intense, seeing exactly how your skilled fingers moved to bring him such electrifying pleasure.

Oh hells, you'd started moving again too. Your labored breathing was felt against his back as you grinded into him

t desperately. Your hips worked like you needed this, needed him, needed to cum against his cunt and take him over the edge with you.

Your fingers sped up as you strained to keep your pace steady, the jerk of your legs getting worse and worse as you got closer. Barbatos could feel how you twitched against the briefs, and even in his weakness, tried to meet your thrusts in the middle, rubbing his sensitivity pussy along your bulge and making himself sob at the intensity.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-

Heavy breathes and heady gasps filled the room as your stomachs started to lock with lightning. Barbatos was seeing stars, felt like he was one. Exploding with pleasure, bright as the sun and just as blinding. There wasn't a thought in his head as your grunts and moans became more frequent, the open mouthed kisses you planted on his ear and neck making his eyes roll. Your free hand left his hip and made for his nipple, and with an aggressive twist, it was over.

The two of you exploded in sync like a supernova of catastrophic levels, the orgasm rawing both of your throats as each other's names rang in the air. The flames in your blood were slowly doused, leaving your skin as sticky as it was sweaty- and it was very much so both.

Neither of you can breathe, so you pant between sloppy kisses. Weak arms wrap around your neck as your hands tangle in sweat-soaked hair, drool escaping down the sides of your lips. He can taste himself on your tongue still, his essence making your spit stick to your lips a little more. The sight spurred him more, until exhaustion truly wracked you both, dropping your bodies to the table in a mere moment.

Barbatos couldn't find any talking words. He's not quite sure what he could say- "hey, that was pretty nice, albeit unexpected?"

"Yeah, hah, that's one way to put it."

He has got to get control of that.

Your eyes were already closed when he looked up at you, using all his strength to do so. You whispered, mumbled really, and he strained to listen through the haze still clouding his mind.

"....beautiful, Barbatos. Everything... you. We have to do this again.... day when you're actually free."

Remembering he was far overdue to return to his position should have sent him into shock, or perhaps cardiac arrest, but he found all he could do was sigh. The castle would be fine without him for a couple hours... and it's not like they had any guests today...

Barbatos yawned, his head getting heavier and heavier with the rhythmic movement of your chest. A quick glance showed you to already be asleep, your peaceful expression painting a smile across his face.

His last image before drifting off is of you, with a single line of drool slowly slipping out the corner of your mouth.

--------

A/N: IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR A WEEK. AHHHHHHHHHHH

[eldritch-spouse]

Listening to Jayde vent about recent his work frustrations and offering to give him the sloppiest sucky wucky for compensation

" I think you're stressing out over nothing. "

Your lips wrap around the straw of the fancy caramel milkshake Jayde bought you, eyes focused on the bags under his, the way he keeps tapping at the table and seemingly mumbling to himself in infernal.

The imp sighs, trying to calm down, a fruitless effort if the constant batting of his tail on the chair's legs is any indication. " ... I'm sorry, I just have to get this perfectly right, you know? My job depends on it. "

Your eyes nearly roll. " I don't think anyone in Sloth is lining up to be King Zizz's head imp... "

And you're sure that's the case. Jayde holds a spot this high in Sloth's hierarchy not because he's the most professional in the field but because he's the most hard working. He's always available and ready to do any manner of odd jobs, which is a level of agency almost no one in that Ring manifests. Realistically speaking, right now, he has no direct competition and is too expensive a loss to the royal court. Because, after all, losing someone who's already intimate with Sloth's routines and inner workings implies having to teach a newbie everything. It all seems like a whole bunch of work neither the King nor his servants are looking forward to.

This is practically a non-issue.

The green demon in front of you shrugs, as tense as a plank still. Jayde places a hand over yours on the table. " But I gotta be careful now, bijou. Maybe a few months ago I could afford to lose my position, but now I have someone to take care of... "

His jagged smile attempts to be reassuring when he squeezes your hand. Take care of sounds about right, this is the same demon who won't let you out of his luxury apartment, much less out of Hell...

You try to prevent bitterness from showing on your face. One step at a time, you'll find your way outside. Or go insane trying.

" Someone to spoil. "

A grin furnishes your face. " I think you spoil me plenty already. " Beneath the table, your feet push his chair back slowly, making Jayde blink vapidly.

The imp tries to say something but quickly shuts his own trap when you playfully slip under the table cloth, crawling your way to him. Soft hands trace up his legs through his pants, until you kneel before the King's head servant and tap at his zipper idly.

" You always give so much to your job, it must be exhausting... "

Jayde's tail is rapidly whacking into its surroundings again, this time not from stress. That mint-green face takes on a darker shade and he looks down at you as if you were made of diamonds, clad in the dress he bought you, the pendant and bracelets he almost begged you to accept.

" W- Well... I do work pretty hard. But it's nothing. I can take it. "

" I know you can. "

As much as you loathe your general circumstances right now, you can almost lie to yourself and say it's worth it when you feel him harden under your palm. Because it's so easy. He's so easy. Content with so little from you. This is by far a much more lavish lifestyle than the one you had, even if you're shackled to this monster... All you really have to do is keep him happy, put a hand around his twitching cock and tell him you're so happy to be doted on by such a wonderful man.

" You don't have to, sweetie. " He has the audacity to say, already leaking like a fucking faucet right in front of you. " I just wanted to bring you something nice. "

" Oh, do you want me to stop- "

" No! " Jayde gulps. " ... Please. "

You can't hide the little smirk when you move to finally wrap your glossed lips around his length. " Alright. "

The imp makes a rattle of a shudder as soon as you take him into the warmth of your mouth, a relieved moan hanging in the air as his legs spread and he pets your hair.

" Go on, tell me about the rest of your day. " You taunt, giving him only time to gasp before starting a pace that has him nearly choking.

" O- Ohh- Okay... "

As if he'll even try.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

OH MY DESTINY, HOW FAR YOU HAVE SPRUNG NOW ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru gojo goes north.

word count; 5.3k

contents; satoru gojo, canon divergence, HEAVY jjk spoilers (for chapter 236!! but also kinda 237), fix-it fic, me coping w/ the manga for 5k words straight, canon-typical violence and death, implied stsg, probably non-canon compliant use of binding vows (but do i care? no), gojo satoru lives.

a/n; yeaaa this is literally just me coping <3 needed to write this for my mental health. he’s fine guys trust me

the experience is not altogether unfamiliar, on its own.

he’s felt it before. even now, he can still vividly recall it; a girl he failed to protect, a boy he failed to save. a man with a scar on his bottom lip.

that sickening numbness, as he lied in a pool of his own blood. sticking to his hair and tattered clothes, the colour red flooding his subconscious. that cold, cold sensation — a jarring shift, chilling and ruthless, going from everything to nothing. tiptoeing the line between life and death. 

emptiness. sinking deeper into the abyss, that all-enveloping darkness. that awful feeling of pure helplessness.

(he could never forget it.)

back then, though, gojo is certain he didn’t feel this way. all he could think about twelve years ago was survival — clinging to the weak flutter of his heart, a dying butterfly. clawing his way up to the skies. anything to escape that harrowing sensation, a kind of desperation all humans feel in the face of certain death, spurring him on. but now —

he almost welcomes it. nearly content in its approach. it should frighten him, but it doesn’t.

through half-lidded eyes, vision blurred by sweat and blood and dust, gojo watches the sky.

it's beautiful, he thinks. as beautiful as ever. peaceful, unchanging, soothing in an eerie kind of way. that clear blue, fading a little at the corners as his muddled mind grows just a little darker, a little more fatigued. he can barely gather the strength to keep his eyelids open. 

yet he keeps his gaze on that endless sky, as if it’s all he’s ever known.

with every passing second, the world grows just a little more blurry. pale dots spread around the corners of his vision, like grains of stardust in an ever-expanding cosmos, clouding his senses. there’s a buzzing in his head that won’t go away. everything looks as if it's spinning, and he can barely tell left from right, north from south. everything is growing darker, so fast that it’s alarming, and gojo can’t seem to even think clearly.

but he can still see that blue, blue sky. bluer than he ever remembers it being. even as snow begins to fall, descending upon shinjuku as if bidding him farewell. the sky takes on a gray hue, but that shade of blue is still all gojo can see, as he takes shallow breaths and half-heartedly attempts to remain conscious. willing himself not to give in just yet, choking on his own blood. 

and it's an odd feeling, really. one he never thought he'd meet again, but here it is, it's back — and it's all-consuming. beckoning him into a place he’s never been before. the unknown. 

it's not scary. gojo doesn’t think he has it in him to feel fear, anymore. but it's a strange sensation, as death kisses its way up his neck, sending shivers down his spine; as the numbness spreads, devouring him whole.

it’s unknown. thoroughly and wholly. and that unknown is overwhelming, all-encompassing, it’s all he can see before him, it's —

ah.

gojo takes a deep breath. the air burns his lungs.

everything's ending, isn't it?

it would be so easy. to simply close his eyes, let them flutter shut as that all-encompassing sensation takes him down to earth. to allow himself to simply rest, for a moment. wouldn’t that be nice?

it would be so easy.

gojo watches the sky. it's all he can do. 

the numbness keeps spreading throughout every cell of his body. he can barely feel the blood trickling down his chin, or the harsh bite of the winter cold, his skin buzzing with ache. he can't feel his arms or his legs, and he knows exactly why. everything in the world is closing in on him and god, he just feels so fucking tired.

ah. ah. more darkness. more numbness.

everything and nothing, all at once. slipping away into oblivion. the snow keeps falling but he can't see anything, can't hear anything, can't feel anything, anything at all.

nothing. nothing. less than nothing.

— and then, suddenly, an airport.

"yo."

gojo blinks.

a boy. a boy with black hair, tied into a small bun. a dead boy. his best friend.

suguru stands before him, and he looks exactly the same as gojo remembers. young, bright, with those awkward bangs still hanging over his face. grinning boyishly, and greeting him with youthful cheer. 

gojo feels young, too, he realizes — the weight on his shoulders a little less heavy, the familiar black of his sunglasses obscuring his vision. but he can still see the flicker of suguru’s cursed energy clear as day. as if it never left him.

feigning a mild displeasure, gojo makes a face. he hears himself speak, but his mind and six eyes continue to spin in circles, trying to comprehend the sight in front of him. trying to make it understandable, figure out what’s going on. 

but he doesn’t succeed. because it’s impossible to understand. and, really, that’s answer enough. 

huh.

so this is what the afterlife is like?

he inhales through his nose, basking in the clear air, and it doesn’t burn his lungs. his chest feels lighter than it’s been in years.

that seems a little too good to be true. 

"you’re kidding me. this sucks.”

suguru makes a kind of face like he’s pouting, plopping down in the seat right next to gojo’s. the white haired boy stretches his limbs out and huffs, pretending the sight in front of him doesn't send a tremor running through his very soul.

suguru continues to speak and gojo continues to listen, all while observing the scenery in front of him.

the airport looks familiar. through the glass windows he can see a glimmer of the blue sky, and a plane waiting to take flight into the clouds. the air smells of summer and jet fuel and new beginnings. it’s pleasantly cool, a light breeze caressing his skin and coaxing a hum from the confines of his throat. 

(he remembers this airport. remembers having his arms full of vending machine snacks, trailing after suguru as he dealt with all the annoying technicalities. amanai was there, too, watching a plane soar up into the sky with childlike wonder. a little anxious, as she boarded the plane to okinawa, and then back to tokyo.

her first and last flight.)

suguru is there, right next to him, and he’s speaking. breathing. like something out of a dream, the kind that always haunts gojo in his sleep.

he breathes in, and then out. 

suguru is there. and not just him – nanami and haibara are, too. all young, all dead. all somehow breathing; he sees them inhale and he sees them exhale. he hears them speak and it’s like nothing ever changed. 

they speak of regrets, of south and of north. nanami doesn’t seem to regret a single thing, and gojo is glad. even yaga is there, he notices belatedly. even amanai, and her maid, and a certain man with a scar on his bottom lip. everyone all together again.

the airport buzzes with warmth. nostalgia, as suguru’s laughter rings in his ears. and gojo grins, in tandem, bright and childlike. wallowing in the tender atmosphere. 

the sight in front of his eyes is perfect, he thinks. absolutely perfect. a glimmer of spring, one he never quite managed to forget. a vibrant flicker of blue, one he thought he’d lost forever.

his one and only blue spring of youth, right in front of his all-seeing eyes.

a little too good to be true.

with a sigh, gojo stretches idly, smiling a little to himself. his joints don’t ache, his head isn’t buzzing with fatigue, and his heart feels lighter than it's been in recent memory. 

“now i’m hoping this isn’t a dream,” he hears himself mutter, allowing his eyes to flutter shut at last. he can still see suguru’s cursed energy, and everyone else’s. he isn’t alone. what a nice thought. 

and it’s strange, gojo thinks. it really is. he’s dead. sukuna killed him. he’s dead, his remains are lying somewhere in the streets of shinjuku, and that should bother him. he should be punching the floor and screaming, cursing sukuna’s name with every fiber of his being — it should frighten him, the realization that everything has ended.

but it doesn’t. 

gojo isn’t afraid. and he isn’t upset, either. he bears no grudge against anyone, just like that day twelve years ago.

he’s with suguru, now, and his juniors. his old teacher. the people he cares for are with him, and the airport smells so nice. everyone is young, and happy, and none of them will ever have to kill or be killed again. 

calling it anything less than heaven would be doing it a disservice. 

gojo smiles, exhaling a relieved breath. one he hadn’t realized he’d been holding til now, stuck in the back of his throat for the past decade. a tiny thought makes it to the forefront of his brain, like a spring breeze flitting in through an open window.

like this, he thinks, i could die with no regrets.

“— except that’s not true.” a voice proclaims. “is it?”

gojo opens his eyes.

suguru looks at him. everything goes silent. everyone else has already gone blurry, a little faded, as if they aren’t what’s really important. as if the entire world has narrowed down to just this; him, and suguru, in the corner of an airport too precious for words. that one decisive slice of heaven. 

suguru opens his mouth, and speaks, and his voice has a finality to it that fills gojo with a mellow kind of dread. 

they look into each other’s eyes, and both know what’s coming.

“the students are outclassed.” suguru rests his chin on the heel of his palm. ”you said it yourself — sukuna wasn’t giving it his all when he fought you. he still has more than a couple cards up his sleeve, doesn’t he? like his incarnation.”

gojo listens to suguru speak, not saying a word.

“they’re no match for him,” he continues, unperturbed. “all of them are going to die. every single one.”

suguru leans back in his chair, still looking straight into gojo’s eyes. seeing through him, gaze filled with a certain sharpness. a little cruel, but there’s a kindness there, too. as if he’s simply ripping the band-aid off, trying to make it as painless as possible. 

he clicks his tongue.

“and you still haven’t buried my body, either.”

a moment passes. then two.

gojo smiles to himself, rueful. a little saddened. 

“.. damn,” he grins, weakly. leaning back in his chair, slumping against the soft leather. “couldn’t you have kept indulging me for just a bit longer?”

suguru smiles. a soft thing, in the flicker of the light. a little too good to be true. “sorry,” he chimes. “but the plane is leaving soon.”

as if on cue, the pa system sounds.

flight to okinawa; departing in nineteen minutes.

“it hasn’t left, yet,” suguru hums, and it sounds like an inevitability. ringing in gojo’s ears. “you know what that means, don’t you?”

he does. he does, but it still hurts. gojo looks into suguru’s eyes, and sees himself reflected in them — young, transparent. blue. fading, but not quite faded. not quite dead.

and maybe it’s to be expected. maybe he was just trying to delude himself into believing the alternative, into believing that an afterlife as sweet as this could really be waiting for him. maybe it was naive, a childish fantasy. 

but still —

”haah.” a heavy exhale, fatigued. gojo slumps even further into his seat, squeezing his eyes shut. running a hand through the soft strands of his hair. ”oh, gimme a break. and here i thought i could finally relax for once.”

a chuckle flows from suguru’s lips, amused. ”you aren’t the type to go down like that,” he murmurs. ”c’mon, satoru. there are still things you need to do.”

”how?” gojo scoffs. ”i’m split in half. and i’m too exhausted to use my reverse cursed technique.”

”eh,” suguru shrugs. ”you’ll manage.”

gojo shoots him a dubious look. ”you’re acting like it’s a papercut,” he huffs, crossing his arms. ”my guts are on the fuckin’ pavement.”

”oh, quit your complaining already," suguru rolls his eyes, and shoots him an accusatory glance. "i died with a hole through my chest. at least your heart is still intact.”

”i wanted to make it painless for you!”

”well, it hurt like a bitch. so thanks for that.”

gojo pouts, fighting back a smile. he thinks suguru must be doing the same. and it’s juvenile, a little twisted — but then again, weren’t they always?

suguru cocks his head. beckoning gojo into taking action. ”you’ve still got some fight left in you,” he says, and there’s a fondness to it. ”you always do.”

”get up, satoru.”

silence. unbroken, unperturbed. if he focuses enough, he thinks he can hear the distant buzzing of cicadas, the crinkling of soda cans. the whistling of the wind. placebos; memories ghosting his subconscious. 

it’s quiet, for a while. gojo stares into space, blinking slowly. then he parts his lips.

”suguru.”

the boy in question turns towards him. but gojo looks up, instead — eyes set on the roof, like he’s trying to see beyond it. into the comfort of the blue sky. 

suguru hums, a cue for him to follow. and gojo closes his eyes.

”i think… i might be tired.”

silence. no one says a thing.

”i think i’d prefer to stay here,” he admits, a forlorn look in his eyes. tapping his fingers on his knee. ”in the past, like this.”

the scent of jet fuel and summer lies heavy in the air. gojo inhales it, greedy. as if savouring it. trying to make it a part of his being, filling his lungs with sweet nostalgia so it never goes away.

”we could just stay here. together,” he muses, barely above a whisper. there’s a kind of longing to the tilt of his voice, something soft. ”couldn’t we? never moving forward, or back.”

the words taste salty, on his tongue. an ocean breeze. a whisper; ”we could just stay like this.”

suguru’s gaze trails from satoru, down to his lap. his bangs follow the slow movement, silky strands falling over his eye. the chuckle that drifts from his lips doesn’t have much humour to it. 

”haha… you’ve never been the type to stay in one place for too long, satoru.”

gojo clenches his fist.

a moment passes.

”you want me to go back,” he hears himself say, somewhat bitter. ”you want me to go back, and then what? there’s nothing i can do. i’m not the strongest, anymore.”

”you are.” suguru’s voice is firm, decisive. ”you can still win. you know exactly what you need to do. there’s only one way to get out of this.”

gojo sighs. one hand in his hair, tousling it. mildly frustrated. ”… it’s risky.”

”you’re bleeding out.”

”if i do this — i won’t ever be the same.” gojo turns to look at suguru. ”i sure as hell won’t be the strongest, anymore.”

”and would that be such a bad thing?”

silence. the two boys look at each other — one dead, one half-alive, both connected to the other. for eternity. suguru’s eyes are full of understanding, as they look into the blue of satoru’s. 

”there’s always been a gap between you and everyone else. that’s what you said, before. aren’t you tired of it?”

a brief intake of breath. gojo closes his eyes.

that’s right. that aching gap. the solitude that comes with absolute strength — a weight he’s borne all his life. doomed never to connect with others, never to be understood. doomed to always live in the sky, far away from the earth and the ocean.

the title of the strongest. a cross he alone had to bear.

(did he ever really want it? or was he just resigned to it, conditioned from the very beginning?)

the feeling of isolation that’s been haunting him for decades seeps into his skin. the cruel knowledge that no one will ever truly know him; even worse, the knowledge that it’s all for the best. you can admire a flower, and help it bloom, but you can’t ask it to understand you.

such a cruel curse to be born with.

suguru’s voice fills his mind, his senses. the flicker of his cursed energy is gentle, like an ocean wave rolling in right before the sun sets. ”you said it yourself, satoru.” gojo can hear the smile in his voice. ”you love everyone.”

love. it always comes down to that, doesn't it? the greatest curse of them all.

(but he could never bring himself to fully throw it away.)

”there are still people waiting for you, out there,” suguru reminds him. and gojo knows that he’s right.

he still hasn’t buried suguru’s body. that thing is still inside his head, doing god knows what. and his students — they must be fighting sukuna, right now. if he’s lucky, no one’s dead yet. if he’s lucky. then there’s shoko, of course. and ijichi, everyone else from the school.

not just that — the world itself is waiting on him. waiting for him to pass on, so it can crumble away. waiting for him to make it, so he can stitch it back together. 

dying isn’t a luxury satoru gojo can afford. he knows that, he does, but —

(dammit.)

”suguru,” he starts, hesitant. voice more feeble than he ever remembers it sounding. almost childlike, in its uncertainty. “what… should i do, from here on out?” a beat. ”where should i go?”

suguru raises a single eyebrow, and then tilts his head. ”do you really need me to tell you that?” he asks, a little teasing. gojo’s reply is instantaneous.

”i do.”

the airport falls silent, again. 

”i’ll listen to you,” he elaborates, tapping the edge of his chair, absentminded. eyes shining with a glimmer of something awfully tender. ”so… it has to be you.”

suguru inhales, softly — fresh air wafting through his transparent lungs. breathing out in a meek chuckle, with a soft shake of his head. almost in disbelief. ”well, in that case…”

a smile. he meets gojo’s gaze. ”then i think you should go north.”

gojo looks into his eyes. a moment passes, slow, detached from space and time. a moment that matters more than anything. their eyes meet, and in suguru’s eyes, gojo sees a reflection of their youth.

what a shame.

”alrighty, then.”

placing his palms on his knees, the white haired man gets up from his seat. stretching his arms with a soft groan. a sigh flows from his lips, drifting out into the clear air. 

”so much for finally getting a vacation,” he huffs, frowning as he casts a jealous glance at his best friend. ”you dead people have it easy, you know that?”

suguru’s still smiling, but he’s not getting up from his seat. the pa system sounds, again. a little louder this time.

flight to okinawa; departing in six minutes.

a deep breath. air flows into his lungs, and then back out; soaking up the summer air he knows he’ll never quite get a taste of again. no summer will ever feel as warm as this one did.

suguru stays right where he is. young, dead. smiling. the same smile he wore when gojo killed him, framed by the setting sun. the same kind of sunset that’s beginning to form outside the translucent windows of the airport, nostalgic and sweet, dyeing the clouds in a soft pinkish hue.

it’s breathtaking. 

”will i see you?” gojo asks, before he can stop himself. eyes still stuck to the setting sun. ”when everything ends.”

…

suguru chuckles, once more. rueful. gojo thinks it sounds just a bit meek, a little like he’s holding back tears. ”maybe,” he breathes, shrugging halfheartedly. not meeting his eyes. ”who knows?”

it’s not the answer gojo wants to hear. but he’ll take what he can get.

and finally, suguru gets up. slowly, methodically. elegant, in the way he moves, the way he brushes non-existent dust off his baggy pants. smiling, hair swaying softly with the breeze. gojo finds his gaze, and that smile shifts into a lazy grin. one so distinctly suguru that it can’t possibly be just a figment of his imagination. 

”don’t find out too soon,” he quips, teasingly. ”alright?”

a slap. gojo doesn’t see it coming, and it knocks him forward — he stumbles slightly, lanky legs moving clumsily, sunglasses falling off at the impact. his back stings, a little. 

over his shoulder, he looks back at suguru. the boy has a hand raised, and his grin is playful, brimming with warmth. except he’s no longer a boy — now he’s wearing traditional robes, hair much longer, face a little more hardened. but that grin is still the same as ever. gojo thinks he looks almost proud.

”go get ’em, satoru.”

gojo blinks.

the grin that breaks out across his lips, then, is wide. bright, brimming with youth, lighting up every corner of his face. almost overwhelmingly sweet. it envelops his very being, as he stands there, clad in his black compression shirt and baggy pants. hair a little less messy than it was in high school, face a little more hardened — but he hopes his grin, at least, looks the same as ever.

he turns his back on suguru, and puffs out his chest. trying to hide the sappy smile still lingering on his lips, the glassiness of his eyes. his voice comes out loud, cheery, echoing throughout the airport — but still somehow so tender.

”roger that!”

gojo looks ahead. the airport is blurred, a little hazy, but a bright light shines farther up ahead. a beacon for him to follow, one that blinds him if he looks at it for too long. blue, white, golden — the colours of the sky. beckoning him forward, to a familiar place.

he takes one step north.

”ah, satoru. one more thing.”

the sound of suguru’s voice stops him in his tracks. ”hm?” gojo turns on his heel, white hair tousled by the soft breeze. a little confused. ”what is it now?”

suguru grins. the whole airport smells like spring. 

”—, — —.”

…

one long, tender moment passes by. gojo doesn’t even breathe, mouth falling open slightly, in a way that must look comical to the man in front of him.

the airport glimmers like a marble in the sun. transparent, blurred, but still somehow so real. suguru’s words echo in his mind. 

then gojo laughs, the sound bubbling up from his throat like seafoam on a scorching summer day. hearty and deep, coaxed out from the very bottom of his gut — genuine. a little breathless. he can’t wipe away the grin on his face, wouldn’t do it even if he could. his blue eyes crinkle, as he looks at suguru, showing off his dimples and teeth.

”so corny,” he teases. suguru rolls his eyes.

”hey, don’t blame me. this is your imagination.”

a huff slips from his lips. ”yeah, yeah…” gojo waves him off. then he meets his eyes, again, still grinning boyishly. ”i’ll hold you to that, okay?”

”got it,” suguru chirps. ”good luck out there, satoru.”

”pssh. who do you think you’re talking to?”

the men exchange smiles, one final time. funny, how that’s always how their story ends; with a heartfelt smile. even if it’s coated in blood, or nothing more than a figment of their imagination.

then gojo turns around, again, and takes a step forward. not looking back this time. trusting suguru to still be there, watching over him. like always.

the bright light at the end of the airport glimmers, tantalizing, mesmerizing. suguru is right — there’s only one way to get out of this. only one way to make it back alive.

and it’s risky. very much so. it’s a gamble, the greatest one gojo’s ever made, even worse than that time twelve years ago with the reverse cursed technique. 

it’s a gamble, all or nothing.

binding vows are dangerous, fickle things. built on equivalent exchange. give something and get something, of equal value. sacrifice and gain. 

gojo’s thought about it, before. a morbid curiosity.

what could he possibly gain by offering the greatest treasure of the jujutsu world? 

he lifts one hand up, to caress his face. lingering over the skin of his eyelids, now closed. but he can still see the cursed energy around him. burned into his retinas. 

the six eyes. the blessing of sight.

a blessing. a blessing he never once asked for, one he was simply born with. born with all this power, doomed to live above the rest. all for a pair of eyes that never seem to see the things that really matter.

and, really, it’s a gamble.

gojo takes a deep breath, and then one large step forward.

(buddha left the royal life behind him at 29 years of age, he recalls. and then he sought out enlightenment.)

the light comes closer, and closer. lotus flowers bless his path. he takes seven steps forward, and his path blooms out before him; one flower blooming by his feet for every step he takes. seven steps north.

i’ll give you everything, he speaks to the someone watching the world. a god, a natural order, himself — it doesn’t really matter. i’ll give you all six. 

in exchange — 

the light is close, now. so close he can almost touch it. it burns his skin, but he doesn’t falter. he doesn’t look away, eyes seeing through the blindness and reaching out for something. something alive.

don’t let me die, he bargains. give me enough of it to kill him.

i still have things i need to do.

one more step, out of the airport —

(and satoru gojo makes a sacrifice.)

a binding vow is made.

the six eyes dissipate, like vapour drifting off into the darkness of a never-ending cosmos.

when gojo opens his eyes, he’s met with a cold, gray sky. 

the world shifts on its axis before him.

everything looks different. he can’t see, but he can, it’s just not the same as before. it’s naked, and raw, and surface-level. not enough to sink his teeth into.

he can still see cursed energy, feel the flicker of it all around him, but it’s hazy. it’s not clear enough, not enough for him to get a good grasp on — like the world lost its saturation. like everything got tilted slightly to the left. an eerie feeling that something isn’t as it should be.

and wow, okay. this is new.

but gojo parts his lips, weakly, and breathes in — and the air tastes the same as ever. cold, crispy. it fills his lungs and he exhales it through his nose. a human act. a breath of life.

i’m still alive.

it’s an odd feeling, like someone took a heavy weight off his shoulders. like someone stripped him of everything that makes him him. an strange sensation, heavy, entirely impossible to ignore. however —

the gain after the loss hits him almost immediately, embracing him with a burst of cursed energy so violently overwhelming that his sight becomes entirely irrelevant. it devours his very being.

everything becomes a blur. 

— i’ll give you everything. 

so, in exchange…

give me enough cursed energy to go on a good rampage.

the cursed energy within him spikes, so sudden and violent that gojo fears his skin might break open. buzzing like flies inside his veins, a vibrant burst of life, every colour in the universe. all the power one can expect from willingly casting away the greatest jewel of the jujutsu world.

gojo moves his fingers. he can feel them, finally — all limbs intact. positive cursed energy flows from his brain, no longer exhausted beyond comprehension. enough, more than enough to give him access to every possibility within his soul.

belatedly, he realizes that his sight isn’t the only thing that’s been weakened. the control he’s grown so used to having over his cursed energy is dwindling, and fast; that firm grip seems to have left with the six eyes, replaced by a set of shaky hands. gojo has experience, and for now, it’s enough. but he still has to concentrate to contain the nearly overwhelming flicker of his cursed energy, stinging his skin as if it can’t fully be contained by his body anymore. prickling his veins. it feels a little like trying to keep water from running through the gaps between your fingers. 

and he feels naked, in a way, suddenly living without something that defines his very being. a little hollowed out. a little wrong, like someone reached a hand through his ribs and pulled out his heart. 

but damn, does it feel good.

his cursed energy output is all-encompassing. his mind feels more clear than he ever remembers it being, and it’s like the world is at his fingertips. something similar to what he felt twelve years ago, but still so different. 

it isn’t ascension, not even close. quite the opposite. but that feeling of freedom is still so abundant. it’s all he can see before him; endless possibilities. 

twelve years ago, satoru gojo faced a certain man, and rose to the skies. he will never, ever forget it. that flicker of eternal solitude, the burst of overwhelming euphoria. that sense of everything being just right.

twelve years of living in the sky, and now his feet meet the ground, at last.

everything feels different. everything looks different. things won’t be the same, ever again — but maybe, suguru was right. maybe that’s not such an awful thing.

to be reborn. to be given a choice.

gojo opens his eyes, and finally takes in all the sights before him. everything happens in a blur, so fast he can barely catch up — his body acts before his mind, and suddenly he’s face to face with sukuna.

not megumi, but sukuna. fully incarnated.

and he looks displeased. almost frustrated.

”how?” 

the look of pure shock on his face is more satisfying than gojo could ever put into words; the satisfaction of seeing a king fall to his knees.

somewhere in the background, he thinks he hears a cacophony of voices, awfully familiar in a way that has warmth blooming in his chest. the students, he assumes — voices of shock, and something he tentatively recognizes as relief. but he doesn’t have the time to let his guard down, just yet.

(no matter how much he’d like to look back at them and give them a self-assured peace sign, bask in their smiling faces.)

instead, he answers sukuna. ”a binding vow,” he grins, and he thinks he must look a little manic, gesturing towards his eyes with his thumb. ”gave these puppies away. didn’t expect that, did’ya?”

sukuna looks at him, for a second.

then he laughs, loud and ugly, grotesque. taunting. he looks at gojo with something that almost resembles pity, something bordering on disappointment.

”pathetic,” he spits, all teeth. ”what good is living if it’s not at the top?”

gojo simply smiles.

he recalls that one question. eleven years ago, somewhere close to the ruins of the very street he’s standing in now. the question that flipped his entire world upside down.

(are you the strongest because you’re satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you’re the strongest?)

a grin breaks out across his lips. his cursed energy pulsates inside his veins, eager to be let loose, and he takes on a fighting stance. parting his lips to speak, unsure of whose question he’s answering.

”well, we’re about to find out.”

the sky is gray, grayer than ever. even so, all he can see is that familiar shade of blue. as clear as it’s always been, even without the six eyes. 

gojo smiles. 

just keep watching, suguru. 

this time, i definitely won’t lose.

[slashersthings]

Jealousy // Billy Loomis x Fem! Reader

—

You were wild that summer. Plenty of parties, plenty of binge drinking, plenty bad decisions.

One of which was currently peppering your chest with sloppy drunk kisses while you sat on the counter during another wild party.

Jeff… er… Jack - whatever the case, slammed you on top of the cold counter a few minutes ago after sharing a couple of dances and drinks.

His breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved back up to capture yours once again.

“This the best you can do after me?”

A familiar voice has you breaking the kiss, and you turn to face the one guy you could never have. (Well, you’ve had him plenty of times, but it never went beyond more than a hot hookup.)

Billy Loomis stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he shot you and what’s his name a glare. Jealousy was always a good look on him. His warm eyes a shade darker as he watched this guy, this fucking wannabe Brad Pitt with his hands all over you in his kitchen. The same kitchen where just last month was the spot where you two spent the better half of the night fucking away all your issues and problems in life. And here you were - getting groped right in front of him.

Jeff or Jack (whatever), takes a step back from you and frowns. “You never mentioned that Billy was your boyfriend.”

“He’s not.” You state it while staring directly at your on again-off again fuck buddy.

“No, I just fucked her over there,” Billy motions to the dining table, “Last month for shits and giggles. Was fun though, right Y/N? Must’ve been, seeing as how we didn’t stop there.”

Jeff/Jack awkwardly shifts his eyes to the floor. “ I think I better go.”

“Good choice.”

You scoff. “No, you don’t need to leave.”

“I think you and Billy need to talk things out.”

And with that, Jeff/Jack makes a quick escape out of the kitchen, leaving you and Billy alone. He smirks and takes a few steps closer.

You stayed still on the counter. “You gonna chase away all the guys I wanna date?”

“You weren’t on a date just now.”

“We could’ve went out on a date tomorrow.”

“Oh? Even though we both know you’re never planning on seeing him again after tonight?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you don’t even know his name.”

During this little back and forth, Billy had managed to step in front of you with a smirk. There was a sort of dark thrill with having someone like him giving you so much attention.

“Pretty low, you know. Hooking up with some other guy in my house. In my kitchen.”

Your eyes narrow. “Not any lower than your little scene out there with that blonde.” That was what had started you seeking out solace in that other guy in the first place. Watching Billy getting practically dry fucked on the dance floor by some strange blonde had sent you over the edge and left you wanting to get revenge.

To make Billy feel the same pain you felt.

“You told me to move on, Y/N, just last week.”

“And you sure did just as that, didn’t you?”

There’s a long pause as Billy stares at you. Then he finally says, “Not exactly. Sure, I might have flirted a little but that’s it, Y/N. You’re the one who’s been on my mind, no one else. I want you.”

You felt your resolve start to crumble as Billy followed his sweet talk up with one of his hands cupping your cheek. “You say that.”

“I mean that. Do you really doubt it?”

Before you could answer him, Billy decides to show you that actions speak louder than words and does so by pulling you in for a kiss. Unlike the other guy, Billy didn’t start the kiss out slow and sweet, only to gradually build in intensity, no, Billy’s kiss was rough and messy, tongue plunging inside your mouth with a groan.

“I want you too.” You mutter against his mouth, feeling his lips curl into a smirk as his hands coast their way down your waist. Course, Billy already knew this. You weren’t exactly the best at being subtle here.

He pops off the buttons to your silk blouse in a matter of seconds, his touches so thrilling that you don’t even bother in chiding him for it. The blouse slips off your shoulders and lands somewhere behind you on the counter.

Your hands delve underneath his white shirt, pulling it up his back and off. “Bedroom?” You whisper while his lips trail to your collarbone.

There was a party going on twenty feet away after all. And you didn’t need nor want someone drunkenly stumbling in on you and Billy going at it on the countertop. “Here’s fine.”

You pull back slightly, eyes narrowing.

“Uh-uh, no way. What if someone walks in?”

“You weren’t too worried about that earlier.” His mouth leaves your throat in favor of nipping at your ear, tugging on the earlobe as he says it. “I walked in on you and that jackass.”

His grip tightens when he mentions the guy. Fingers digging into your hips as he bites hard, marking you. “Wasn’t planned.” You gasp out.

“Neither was this.”

“Billy, come on.”

His hands drop as he steps back. He looked annoyed as he glared at you. “So you’ll let some creep you don’t even know fuck you during a wild party but not me. Someone you do know.”

“I wouldn’t have let him-“

“No? Looked like he was getting pretty far.”

“Like you and your little blonde out there?” You hop off the counter with a glare of your own. “And how dare you talk to me like that?”

“I wasn’t almost fucking that blonde, Y/N.”

“Looked like you were getting pretty far.” You repeat his earlier sentence.

“So you can move on but I can’t? You can flaunt around town, acting as if we weren’t a thing just last month while I have to suffer?”

“You weren’t suffering earlier with that blonde.”

“ENOUGH about that FUCKING BLONDE!” Billy exclaims, and you jump when he bangs his fist on the counter. You had never seen him look so pissed off before. It was a little startling.

Having seen your reaction to his outburst, Billy mutters, “Shit, baby, I’m sorry,” and reaches for you.

You shake your head, stepping back slightly.

“Don’t.” You say with a sigh and walk away.

[solarisstyles]

LACED UP

Pairing: Harry Styles x F!Reader Word Count: 2.1k+ Warnings: fluff, cross dressing, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it!), 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: You're surprised to find Harry wearing the sexiest outfit you've ever seen him wear. A/N: spicy!

*please like and reblog to help your local fic writers*

Harry Edward Styles. How does one begin to describe him? He lived his life out of the box, never settling on a label for anything. He was a free spirit who will give anything a fair go. This was one of the big things that attracted you to him. When you started dating and getting intimate with each other, you learned a whole new level of Harry you never expected. He was a switch so it was always a nice surprise if you’ll get the submissive side, or his dominant side.

After dating for so long, you figured there was no way he could surprise you anymore in the bedroom. Pushing open your bedroom door, you were met with a sight that took your breath away. 

Harry stood in front of the full length mirror admiring himself, and while that wasn’t out of the ordinary to see, it’s what he was wearing. 

“Harry, what are you doing babe?” you softly spoke once you found your voice. 

Like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes met yours through the mirror, wide and scared looking. “Um, I, uh…” he stuttered, frozen in place. 

Your eyes scanned his body, admiring the beige colored women’s lingerie he was wearing. You could tell he had on a full set, the sheer cover up barely leaving little to the imagination. The lace thong and lace bra he wore beneath it was barely visible. As your eyes found his own again, you smiled. Blushing from his face down to his chest, he held your stare. “Turn around for me baby. Let me see you.” you instructed, doing a little circular motion with your pointer finger. 

Slowly, he turned to face you, looking down at the rug he stood on, shifting on his feet nervously. He was beautiful. The color of the set was just a few shades darker than his skin tone so it complimented him perfectly. The fabric was so snug and hugged every curve like he had it custom made for his body. 

Slowly approaching him, you tilted his chin so he was looking at you again, his face still cherry red and eyes full of fear. “What’s got you so nervous baby?” you asked, furrowing your brow in confusion. 

“This…this isn’t too much?” he asked, voice shaky. 

Softly caressing his cheek, he leaned into your touch, finding comfort in it. “Absolutely not. You look so pretty.” you praised, your hand then slowly glided down his neck, teasingly gliding your finger back and forth beneath the straps of his bra. 

“You think I look pretty?” his wide doe eyes looked up at you hopefully, goosebumps rising on his skin from your gentle touches. He looked so fragile, like if you were too rough with him right now he’d shatter into hundreds of pieces on the bedroom floor. This was a new level of vulnerability for him, and it was your turn to be the comforter. 

“I think you look beautiful, devine, breathtaking. How come you’ve never worn this for me?” biting your lip, you looked him over once more, wanting to etch this scene into your mind forever. 

“I just got it probably about a week ago. I’ve always wanted to try it but never got the nerve till recently.” he explained, a small smile now spreading along his lips. “I felt so pretty when I first tried it on,” he confessed, “I was just worried you wouldn’t be into it.” your eyes snapped up to his own. It was understandable why he would be fearful. He’s never been with a partner who was open to trying new things in the bedroom. 

“Oh, I’m into it. If I had a dick right now, it would be hard.” Your joke made him laugh, visibly causing his body to relax some. “Is this how it feels when you see me in lingerie?” you dared to ask, still trying to calm your rapid heart beat. 

“Like you’ve got the breath knocked from your lungs?” Harry asked, thinking back to the first time he saw you in red lace, laid out for him on the bed. 

“Exactly.” you confirmed, moving to stand behind him, gliding your finger tips over his chest as you went. Kissing the warm skin on his shoulder, your kisses trailed over to his neck, softly licking and sucking on his skin. 

Softly breathing out a deep breath he’d been holding, he whimpered quietly, leaning back into you. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me Harry?” you whispered in his ear, your hands softly rubbing his sides. 

“Yes ma’am.” he breathed out, eyes fluttering shut. 

Your lips resumed their work, marking up one side of his neck then moving to the other side. Your hands gained a mind of their own, feeling up and down his body. The embroidered pattern on the slip cover he wore felt so good beneath your fingertips. The fabric itself had a soft and delicate feeling. This wasn’t a cheap set and was obviously well made. Harry wanted the best if he was really going to try this out, and this was the best possible outcome he could get from doing it. 

Moving upward from his waist, your hands found their way to his pecs, squeezing and groping him through the bra like he would your own tits. He couldn’t help but giggle, which made you smile against his neck, “Nice tits.” you playfully said, pinching his nipples. 

“Shit, babe.” he gasped, his hands covering your own, but not stopping them. 

You giggled then, placing a final kiss on his neck “Get on the bed, I want to make you feel good.” 

He gave you a quick nod, making quick work to get on the bed for you. Pushing the shopping bag and boxes off the bed that once held the garments he was wearing, you placed yourself in front of him, knees touching as you both knelt. “How are you feeling?” you asked him, wanting to make sure he was comfortable with how this was playing out. 

“Good, really good.” he assured, smiling softly at you. 

“Good, lay back on the pillows and get comfortable.” stripping yourself of your own clothes as you instructed him. 

Sitting there in your bra and panties, your eyes wandered over the expanse of Harry’s body that was laid out before you. “You look so damn good.”, slowly crawling up his body, seeking out his lips against your own. 

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your ass, squeezing and rubbing at your soft flesh, causing you to whimper a soft moan against his mouth. Reaching back, you grasped his wrists, pulling his hands away from you and pinning them above his head, “Keep them there.” 

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes following your hands, watching them and feeling them caress his warm skin. 

“You look so pretty in this. Shame I have to take it off of you.” pouting your lip out, drawing shapes around on his belly with your finger tips. 

“I’ll wear it again for you if you want.” he offered, soaking up all the loving attention you were pouring out to him. 

“I’ll buy you whatever little piece you want if it means you’ll wear it for me.” you smiled down at him. 

“Promise?” he asked hopefully. 

“Promise baby.” you assured, leaning down to his chest, trailing soft kisses down to his belly, then down to his crotch. Looking up at him through your lashes, you slowly pushed the slip up to his hips, finally getting to feast your eyes upon the beautiful thong he wore. His cock that was only half hard, was strained against the fabric, the tip of his cock peeking out by his thigh where he’d tucked himself. 

“So pretty.” you whispered, kissing along where his cock was bulging. 

His cock twitched beneath the soft fabric, making you smile up at him. He swallowed roughly, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he watched you intently. Keeping your eyes locked with his own, you dragged your tongue along the sheer fabric covering his hardened cock, flicking your tongue along the tip of his cock teasingly. 

“Babe.” he whined, grasping at the pillows he laid on. 

“Hm?” you hummed, playing innocent. 

“Want your mouth.” he panted, wiggling his hips slightly under you impatiently, “Please.” he begged. 

“Only because you’ve got such good manners baby girl.” you winked, sitting up, you grabbed the waistband of the thong, pulling it off him with a little help from him lifting his hips and maneuvering his legs. Tossing the fabric off the bed, you resumed your teasing kisses and licks along each of his thighs, working your way up to his now fully hardened cock. Gliding your tongue along his shaft, you grasped him firmly at the base, slowly taking him into your mouth. You both moaned in unison, your own moan sending glorious vibrations down his cock, his moan sending a rush of arousal to your own aching core. 

Driving Harry crazy with your mouth was one of your favorite things to do, he was so easily riled up by you sucking him. His head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, fighting to not reach his peak so quickly. It was hard to not be so close though from all the foreplay and not to mention how hot you looked sucking his cock. 

You could see his stomach tensing and relaxing, his cock twitching against your tongue. Your hand stroking what of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth, pulling off of him, droll stringing from his cock to your swollen lips you asked, “Where do you want to cum baby.” 

“You, inside you baby please.” he begged, whimpering desperately for you to not stop. 

Placing a soft kiss to his hip, you sat up to remove your bra and panties, straddling his hips and positioning yourself above his cock. He watched with bated breath as you positioned him at your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto him with ease from how aroused you are. Settling your hips against his own, his cock fully inside of you, you looked up at him, finding his line of sight focused on where you two were now connected as one. 

Raising your hips you clenched around him, causing him to groan, “Don’t tease me baby.” he rasped, voice strained and an octave deeper than normal. 

Smirking at him, you dropped your hips back down, sitting him deep inside you once more. Grinding your hips around him, causing you to moan at the delicious feeling. The tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot is enough to stir you crazy. 

“Oh, God.” you gasped out, rocking your hips at a steady pace, eventually working yourself into a bouncing motion, his hips meeting yours half way, fucking up into you. 

“Just like that baby. Don’t stop.” he grunted, still grasping the pillows for dear life. 

“Touch me Harry, please touch me.” you cried out, desperate for physical contact from him. 

His hands have never moved so quickly, grasping your hips and holding them steady as he quickly thrusted up into you. 

A scream of pleasure slurred with his name tumbled from your lips, drunk off his cock pounding you. Laying your body against his own, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. Bending his knees and planting his feet into the mattress he used it as leverage to continue his quick pace, “I’m so close.” he warned, turning his face to your own, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. 

You were close to, dangerously so, your pussy throbbed around him, clenching and unclenching his cock. Reaching down between your bodies, Harry’s fingers began to rub your clit, making you moan into his mouth. “Cum for me baby.” he rasped against your lips. 

“Mmm, fuck!” you moaned, your climax finally bubbling over, coating his cock in your sweet release. The lewd wet sounds of his cock fucking your wet cunt, mixed with your moans was the final push he needed to reach his own orgasm. Thrusting deep inside you, holding himself there while he came, your walls fluttered around his cock, milking every drop of cum from him that he had. 

Slowly coming down from his high, his legs fell back against the bed, you both were breathing roughly to catch the breath that was lost between you both. 

Pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, you rolled off of him and laid down next to him. “Never stop surprising me.” you said as you looked at the ceiling. Cracking a tired smile and a soft laugh, he nodded, “Deal.”

[faatosinaswriting]

Could u write some fluff with Simon and reader who has similar issues like him? I mean anxiety and depression, it could be headcanons or a short story, that’s up to ya! :)

Thx in advance, even if it might get denied

Oh my GOSSSHHH, anon! I've been thinking of this! Its like us Simon enjoyers can read each other's minds!! Spppooookkyyyy!~ 👻 I would like to remind you, as always, whatever you are going through that you will be alright, and you WILL succeed.

SIMON HENRIKKSON X GN!READER.

Genre: Fluff! ...Slight angst...

Summary: While you're working on school work, you're incredibly stressed out and end up having an anxiety attack from over thinking. But, no worries! Simon is right here to help you! 🖤.

TRIGGER WARNING: In depth description of a panic/anxiety attack.

18 y/r old reader btw!

You aggressively typed as your eyes skimmed through your text book, finals are coming up and you're scared of the possibility you won't graduate. Your bedroom was so quiet, the black background of your computer reflecting onto yourself. You glanced up at your reflection for a second, then stopped typing. Your heart started skipping beats, your chest slowly starting to heave faster. Something snapped inside of you, every emotion you could pester up came flooding out. Your eyes filled to the brim with tears, gripping onto your shirt, crinkling it as you started feeling your heart speeding up as if it was a motorcycle engine. Your face began to get red, your cheeks a rosy color as you started staring intensely at yourself in the black screen.

Your computer had shut off.

You could see yourself, now.

You were there.

YOU.

YOU.

YOU.

WHAT IF YOU FAIL?

you asked yourself, gripping onto the sides of your hair as you rocked back and fourth.

ANSWER, WHAT IF YOU FAIL?

"I'm okay, it's okay, I'm okay, this is temporary."

you slowly nodded through struggled breaths, except, you only sobbed harder. Your tears dripped onto Simon's hoodie that he had left for you, the slightly darker shade of grey being imprinted onto the soft fabric.

"Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up.. Please." you begged yourself to just, keep quiet.

"Y/N/N?"

the usually comforting voice came off irritating to you at this very moment, your eyes switching over to the concerned boy next to you.

"Nooo, no...No..." you desperately attempted to convince yourself it would be okay, when, you felt a strong arm grasp your lower torso wrapping you up into his chest.

You screamed, tucking your head into your arms.

"Pleeeaaasee, make this fucking voice go away... I hate it, I hate it!" you hollered, Simon wiped the hair from your eyes as your puffy eyes began getting redder.

He can't save you.

"You're okay, I got you, I got you." he placed his warm hands to your cheeks, slowly careessing them.

"Simon, Simon, Simon." you repeated, trying to tell yourself he was there for you, he was there. He would be sure you're okay.

"You're going to pass, I know you will, you're brilliant. So, so smart." he said with a meaningful, loving tone.

You slowly started calming as he said those words, though you still had that surge of anxiety, that dumbell of pressure weighing in your stomach, you had him. You had him in your heart, and in your brain to push away the negative feelings. He had you. He had you to help him through the rough times, the episodes.

"You're okay." he placed a soft kiss to your lips.

"YOU'RE OKAY."

______________________________________