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vixentheplanet · 10 months

Text

five star hotel

"I think you should come and visit. I someone else who isn't you pulling up in a minute."

shuri x black!reader | 18+

Summary: You've recently completed a press tour and a phenomenal award season for your latest film. To celebrate and unwind, you and your friends fly to Mauritius, an island in East Africa. You realize your relaxation time, but you're missing a thrill that can only come from one person. The only problem is that they need to be here.

inspired by five star hotels. by raye

word count: 7.1k

themes: actress reader, dom/sub undertones, this is very filthy...

warnings: smoking, drinking, possessive!shuri, dom! shuri, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, car sex, shotgunning, thigh riding, fingering, orgasm denial, begging, established safe words, body licking, rough sex, penetrative sex, spitting, choking, throat fucking, wall sex, oral sex

hi - i’m in the process of re-uploading everything so anyone who wants to read can have easy access to find my works which is going to take some time but this was the easiest to post (it’s me not some random person lmaooo) 😔

Mauritius. A small Indian Ocean island nation famed for its beaches, lagoons, and reefs. It was your holiday destination of choice. You'd just returned from a press tour for your new film, Sounds of the Vanished, and you'd finished the awards season as the most-awarded actress for your performance. The response and success to your performance had been magnificent, but with so much traveling and busy schedules, you were relieved to be on vacation.

The island was your destination for relaxation. Liza, Kali, Jade, and Evangeline were among your closest friends. You'd only been here for three of the fourteen days you'd planned, but you were having a great time going on different excursions during the day, such as hiking, snorkeling, and deep-sea diving. At night, you could be seen mingling with both residents and tourists at any number of vibrant outdoor bars and clubs. You were having a great time until last night when you had a little too much to drink.

As an actress, you were a natural social butterfly. You were the life of the party, captivating everyone who came across you. People are scared of your confidence. That was something you'd built up to prepare for audition rejections, award losses, and unfavorable critiques in this line of work. These qualities made up your character and personality that the public loved and adored, but you may be intense for those who didn't know how to handle it. As a single, young, attractive, and accomplished woman, such vibrant, charismatic energy drew a lot of attention, but most people realized they were too intimated by you. All except her.

You and Shuri, the Queen of Wakanda, had been seeing each other for a few months. The two of you discovered a pleasure in one another that you couldn't find anyplace else, which is why you found yourself phoning her the night before. You and your four friends were lounging on the patio of a bar, taking in the atmosphere and the warm climate. With the breathtaking ocean scenery, string lights twinkled above you as the waves crashed against the shore.

You'd been drinking a lot of flights, trying out various whiskeys and margaritas. The more the alcohol affected your bloodstream, the more lustful you became. Feelings that only she could control. You knew she'd make time for you if you asked, but when you slipped away to a quieter corner of the bar to call, she didn't answer.

Even when she's working, Shuri always answers your calls. It was too late for her to have a council meeting, and if she were out on business or Panther duties, she'd let you know so you knew she wouldn't be available, so her phone not answering meant she was busy fucking someone else. You and Shuri had similar lifestyles, both busy, and neither of you liked being tied down. She slept with whomever she wanted, and you did as well.

Who’s that bitch you’re fucking?

I know you’re fucking her.

You texted, which seemed to tease, but the attitude was evident. You were the top priority over any of those other bitches.

She texted back an hour after.

Bet.

That was the end of the conversation last night. This morning, you awoke, smirking all the way to breakfast with your companions. You didn't care enough to "apologize," you both knew you weren't sincere, and everything you said was true.

You missed her body, and you know she missed yours.

She should be here. Nobody can fire her up as you can, and she's told you that several times.

You and Shuri had choices, and you both occasionally explored options before settling back on each other. Sex is sex, but sex with Shuri is unrivaled. Perhaps it's because she has no problem putting you in your place. Neither your fame nor your demeanor could faze her, maybe because you were a challenge to her. In turn, you weren’t intimidated by her being the Queen of Wakanda or the Black Panther.

The entire morning you went on a sightseeing and boat tour. You pause to take pictures with fans or sign autographs for any who happen to pass by before hurriedly exiting the location. Your security was concerned that word of your and your guests' whereabouts would spread shortly. You return to your room in the middle of the day. Jade retreated to her room to nap while Liza, Kali, and Evangeline went to the spa, but you returned to clean your room in preparation for Shuri's arrival.

It was time to get ready for tonight by the time you finished. You prepared by taking a shower, applying skincare and makeup, and grabbing your outfit from the closet—a Dolce & Gabbana black spandex mini dress with sleeves from the 2003 spring collection. When you reunited, Kali whistled, "Yeah, ma, do a spin for me,” She took out her phone and began recording an Instagram story. To humor her, you do a whole spin shaking your ass a little before turning around and laughing.

You know it's just a matter of time before your fans discover it and go crazy for the dress, but this is the only chance they'll see you wear it. Though things were quiet on Shuri's end, you knew she'd come through. “Save it for the club!” Angie yells as your bodyguard holds the SUV’s door open.

You're dancing in the midst of a club, but you can't recall his name. He had approached you, star-struck, and asked if you wanted to dance; why not? Something he might later brag about to his buddies. You left Liza and Kali at the table, watching everyone's drinks. Jade and Evangeline had long disappeared after hearing a few members of the Golden State Warriors were in the lounge: “When Basketball Wives gets rebooted, trust I’ll be there. Let’s go, Angie!” So there you were, grinding back on a nameless man, his hard-on pressing onto you. You didn't mind because he was handsome enough. It was a nice ego boost and even better knowing he'd be dissatisfied by the night's end.

He couldn't keep up with you even now, dancing timidly, because his energy didn't match yours. Nervous. Consider what would happen if a famous actress told him, "I need you to choke me and pound me until I can't walk tomorrow." In all likelihood, he'd flee, leaving you to obsess about the person in your fantasies. You see Kali strolling through the crowd after leaving the VIP section upstairs as if angels answered your prayers. Her phone is in your hand, and her face is filled with worry. You break away from your dancing partner to focus solely on your best friend, and he backs off. "What's the matter, babe?" You yell over the music as she hands you your phone.

"Your phone hasn't stopped ringing!" She yells in your ear, attempting to come as close as possible to you. "You have something like a hundred notifications. I don’t know if something serious happened,” she exaggerates, handing you your phone.

As you check your phone, you find ten missed calls and two texts from 'DP.' Because calling back while the music vibrated the floorboards was pointless, you read the text first.

Come outside.

Now.

Smirking, you bite your lip and glance at the screen, no longer interested in your dance partner. She arrived. You knew 'bet' wasn't a joke. Shuri was one of the most brilliant minds in existence, with access to the most cutting-edge existing technologies. She was undoubtedly aware of your whereabouts before you enticed her to come hunting for you. You told her to come looking for you, and she did. You can't help but wonder how long she's been hiding on the island, waiting for the right opportunity to surprise you.

When you look up, Kali looks at you suspiciously, questioning, "Who the fuck is DP, and why are they blowing up your phone?" She wonders aloud. You wrinkle your eyebrows at her assertiveness, "None of your concern, one. Two, I'm heading out."

Kali's eyes show she wants to push you farther, but secrets are unusual between you, so she knows your secrecy is for a reason. "You'd better be at brunch. That’s all I know!” She demands, abruptly changing the subject. You grin as you lean down to kiss her cheek.

“I will, baby. Tell Liza I’m leaving; you know she worries.” Liza was the eldest and only married woman with two gorgeous children. She knew how to have a good time and party, but on nights like this, with everyone split up, drinking, and in a foreign country, she was bound to be extra careful despite your protection. Her maternal instincts were likely in overdrive, especially with Jade and Angie. In a way, you're one less person to be concerned about.

You gaze down at your phone once more. Shuri's text message arrived seven minutes ago. "Yes, yes. Leave before I come outside with you and start interrogating."

Knowing she's dead serious, you wrap up the conversation. "Love you, and make sure one of them doesn't wind up taking Tristian Thompson to the hotel," you joke, referring to Jade and Angie’s quest to be WAGS. Kali's eyes widen as you joke.

“Girl! You’re messy—get out of here," she giggles, nudging you along.

Moving stealthily through the crowd toward the exit, you keep your head down. The cool night air hits your exposed skin as you scan the area for your target. There's a black unmarked Rolls Royce with dark tints that are probably illegal. Bingo. Once it’s safe to do so, you cross the street and peer across the back to see a familiar figure pressing up against the passenger door.

You're confident none of the dark and disoriented individuals inside and outside the club are paying attention to the fact that the queen of Wakanda is standing out in the open, waiting for you. As you take her in, your lip catches between your teeth. She is dressed casually in black athletic shorts and a white tee shirt. There was no use in putting effort into an outfit that would wind up on the floor, but she looked impressive in whatever she wore.

She didn't bother turning her head to look at you as if she sensed you. "I found you," she says. Her tone is somber and absent of the usual playfulness. She did not find your antics the night before amusing. "Found me," you say as you stroll up the sidewalk to Shuri. Even though she seems off, being in the Wakandan Queen's presence causes your skin to tingle with anticipation. Your body is all too familiar with her.

When you stand before her, she uncrosses her arms, and you naturally fall into them, staring up at her as her arms wrap around your waist. "I thought I'd have to drag you out of there." You bring your arms around her neck, pulling her in.

“Mm,” you hum at the thought of Shuri being rough with you. “Wouldn’t want you to cause a scene to scare away all my potential late-night guests,” you teased. Instead of responding verbally, Shuri takes one of her hands off your ass and brings it back in a disciplining slap. You almost moan as the offensive force increases your eagerness.

You close your eyes, wincing slightly before letting out a breathy sigh. "Why are you upset? I can be with whoever I want, right.” You mock her, peering up at her through your lashes with false innocence. As if you didn't know, your words would provoke that reaction from her.

Shuri looks down at you. She rubs your ass with the hands she used to punish you for soothing the pain. “You can fuck whoever you want, but you still beg me to come out here.”

The reunion is over as she releases you, pushing off the car. Her authoritative nature consumes the air around you, nearly suffocating. "What's your problem?" you questioned as if you hadn't drunk-texted her, telling her she needed to be here.

Shuri sucks her teeth. "My problem is you," she declares emphatically, not caring how you react. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.” There were two choices: retaliate with an equally slick ass statement, or listen and behave. For now, you’ll behave as you decide to reach to open the door.

Shuri's presence is behind you, grasping the handle before you can, "Don't act brand new," she says. When you get inside the Rolls-Royce, you're surprised Shuri can see out the black windows—admiring the starlight headlining. She stays silent after that, getting into the driver's seat. She continues to drive without even trying to pay attention to you. You were aware that you might be a brat sometimes; all that confidence and energy made for a toxic combination now and then. One way Shuri exerts power is by ignoring you. Sometimes it would work, shifting your headspace to a more submissive one. You're too busy being a good girl, begging and pleading for Shuri's praise and care, to be bothered with talking back. Other times, you make her work for your submission, not letting up until she is inside of you, manipulating your body into any position she desires while fucking you senseless.

You knew exactly what you needed tonight. Shuri parks her car in a beach parking space near the hotel and turns off the engine. Silence fills the air as Shuri reclines her seat, and you wait impatiently. You wonder why she stopped here instead of the main lot.

You get your answer as your eyes follow her movements as she reaches in and pulls out a pre-rolled joint, sparking the lighter. Shuri’s gaze lingers on you as she takes a hit of the cannabis. Exhaling, the smoke fills the air around you. You expect her to open her mouth to speak now, but instead, she returns the joint to her lips. Starting to get agitated with her ignoring you, cross your arms, and face her back against the door. "Did you drag me out of the club to watch you smoke?"

"Didn't you text my phone acting crazy? Stop being impatient."

You raise an eyebrow at her comments as if she didn’t want you as much as you wanted her. “You’re acting like if I told you couldn’t hit this anymore, you wouldn’t lose your mind. It doesn’t matter who you’re laid up with. They aren't me." Many women were willing and waiting for Shuri to give them a chance, but she came here to be with you in less than twenty-four hours.

Shuri sucks her teeth and is not pleased with your delivery as she refuses to accept the truth of your words. “You keep talking to me like you lost your mind,” she asserts, frowning in confusion. “I don’t know who else you’re dealing with that lets you talk to them like that, but not me,” she warns.

"I wouldn't be talking if we were inside," your voice whines. Neediness has taken over. She was right here, but she was still too far away.

Shuri grins. "Would you like me to bring you inside? I might use you how I please for my own satisfaction. Have you just lay there and take it? Is that what you want?”

"You wouldn’t do that."

“I wouldn’t?” Shuri challenges, passing the joint to your outstretched fingers.

“Coming all this way and not playing with me,” You inhale in small puffs, pull the smoke into your lungs, and exhale. “Sounds like more of a punishment for you than me.” Your body was something she couldn't resist. Even when she attempts to avoid touching you in order to drive you insane, she always breaks. You didn’t need to dominate to control her.

You return the blunt to her, and she accepts it. "Come here," she says as she pats the empty space in her lap, and you climb over. She absorbs another blow at the same time. Her hand is on your thigh, gradually moving the fabric of your dress up, exposing the skin of your ass to the cool temperature that the AC is trying to maintain.

As you approach her, the effects of the high are visible in her eyes. Your gaze falls to her lips, and without hesitation, you lift your hands to her face and draw her to you. Shuri's free hand pulls you closer in an instant, pressing you even harder against her lips, finally giving in to what you both desire. Shuri's teeth dragged at your lower lip, causing you to part your lips. Instinct took over as you felt the Wakandan royals' tongue glide between your lips. Heat runs through your body all at once, and the hunger building up with the distance causes you to devour each other, leaving you gasping as she pulls away.

You give her a single breath before lowering your lips again. Shuri took the lead this time, more demanding and rough, brushing her tongue over your lips and drawing it between her teeth in the most sinful way possible, your brain shutting down completely as you makeout.

It's your turn to take a breath away from the kiss, and Shuri tries to distract herself by going down towards your collarbone.

"Uh, uh," you pull Shuri's mouth away from your neck, revealing her face. "I know exactly how you get, and I have a lot of skimpy bikinis to wear." Shuri took great pleasure in seeing all of her marks on you. Everyone who fucked you next would be distracted by thoughts of who gave them to you, unable to enjoy themselves to the fullest. Constantly wondering and fascinated as to who had so much claim over you.

"People can't admire me if they're too focused on what's on my skin." Shuri's eyes narrow, not amused by your comment. To console her, you caress the side of her face, beckoning her to lean closer with a finger. You teasingly bite her lip, returning to meet her icy stare again.

"Don't make that face," you mock, knowing Shuri was irritated by the image of you with other people you were trying to paint in her mind. There was no commitment, but neither of you liked being reminded of previous sexual partners when you were together. You give her lips another light peck, humming with excitement at the satisfaction of riling her up. "You can still hit it like it's yours," you whisper, your angelic eyes drowning in seduction.

Shuri finally gets tired of your arrogance and lifts your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at her. "It is mine.” She almost growls in your ear. Your smirk fades as you let out an audible moan, getting off to the sound of her voice, knowing the severity in her tone assured you a long night ahead.

Shuri makes a pleased sound, and her suppressed groan enhances your desire for her. “I love this little attitude you’re putting on. You want to know why?” She asked, waiting for you to respond.

“Mm, why is that?” You take a deep breath, feeling the tension and temperature in the car rise. You desperately wanted to remove that extra layer of clothing between you two. You were aching for her despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.

Shuri relaxes her hold slightly to bring her thumb to your lower lip, her dark gaze following the way your tongue teasingly peaks out to lick the tip of her finger. "Because I get to fuck it out of you," she continues. “Make you my good girl again." Her words penetrate your core, and you feel walls clench around emptiness, knowing she'll make you complete soon.

"You're insatiable, and no one can tame you as I can. Huh, baby,” You nod, unable to speak because your mouth is busy. "That's exactly what I thought. Now move.” Move? You wrinkle your brows as you begin to rise from Shuri's lap, disappointed, not seeing the point of having you get up from your seat in the first place before a bruising hold on your waist stops you. “Move.” She repeats more forcefully, and you realize what she means. You adjust a little so that one of Shuri's thighs is between your legs, then press down until your clit is firmly against her. You're confident she can sense how wet you are for her, dripping on her skin.

"Get nice and wet for me, but you can't cum," Shuri instructs as you roll your hips. You begin cautiously, attempting to follow Shuri's warning not to cum yet. You won't overwhelm yourself if you proceed slowly.

Time passes. Shuri rotates the rest of the blunt between you two, bringing it to your lips for each inhalation. Your hands are gripping the back of the seat. It's hot, and you can feel sweat clinging to your skin, but you don't mind. You're far too mellow. Dazed and whirling, your hips are in sync with the smoke filling the air illuminated by the stars on the ceiling. Using Shuri's body to get off feels like something out of a dream.

Massaging your clit against Shuri’s thighs, a little gasp leaves your lips when the sensation gets too much. Shuri takes one last, deep drag. A hand comes to the back of your neck, pulling you close to her until your foreheads are touching. Before opening your mouth, you purse your lips, pushing a whimper to the back of your throat. Shuri presses forward, your lips touching as she, little by little, blows the smoke into your mouth. You accept everything, inhaling the marijuana and moving in for a kiss.

Her hand goes from your neck to your folds, inserting her middle finger inside till it brushes against your clit. The slightest touch of her fingertips causes your hips to stutter and your rhythm to come to a halt as your thighs tighten around her wrist. "Shuri," you exhale, rocking gently in her embrace.

Your face flushed at the slick sounds as she played in the results of your sexual desire.

"You're not being fair," you protest. Shuri commanded you not to cum while making it more difficult for you. It was easier when you had a choice over your pleasures, but Shuri used her expert fingers to take you apart while expecting you not to cum. Your stomach tightens as you strain to suppress your climax, letting out a few quiet grunts.

Shuri doesn't care what you think of her games. “I don’t have to be fair. I make the rules, and you have to follow them.” Her dominant tone is coming through, making you even wetter. The low, seductive timbre of her voice might set you off. She increases the pressure on her finger, and you're practically writhing in her lap, desperate for the woman to stop. You could feel the euphoric tension rising and—

"Fuck," you scream, curling in on yourself in relief as Shuri comes to a stop, denying you release verbally and now physically. You mistakenly assume she was finished, not realizing she never removed her hand. You could have thought things were over, but now she's moving again.

“Are you going to come?” She questioned. No words are coming out of your mouth, so you frantically shake your head from side to side. Your body betrays you, starved of orgasm and searching for it. On Shuri's fingers, your hips swivel down. Shuri grins with amusement as she watches you break.

The weed always lets you get out of your thoughts and into your body, which was good because it amplified sex sensations when high. Yet, it also proved a disadvantage as you fought to keep it together. "Are you sure?" With a wicked expression on her face, she pushed.

You felt helpless, wanting to obey Shuri yet lacking the strength to resist your release. "Please, please, please," you beg, attempting to escape her. But you're no match for Shuri, and she doesn't back down, aware that if you genuinely wanted her to stop, you'd use the safe word you established.

Your pleading must have worked because a few seconds later, Shuri pauses, preventing you from having an orgasm yet again. Relieved, tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you realize you can break free. She removes her hands this time, and you can see the sticky substances coating her fingers. “Always so messy,”

Shuri raises her fingers to your mouth, and you accept them to clean yourself off her. You look up at her with sparkling eyes as you conduct such wicked acts. She groans as she feels your lips suction around her, tongue circling each finger, properly licking yourself up. “Good enough for me to taste later,” you nod, still sucking.

A humming sound emanates from her lips as she muses, "I'll think about it if you can listen to me. You'll now return to your room while I park the car." Shuri continues to speak. "I want you naked on the bed. If you understand, nod." You do as directed by gesturing your head like a good girl. Shuri kisses you briefly before releasing you.

Faithful to her sadistic nature, she has added one extra obstacle for you to get to your suite. You shakily exit the car, pausing to remove your heels as you walk through the sand. You reach the patio and cross the hotel gardens, cursing Shuri silently. You try to multitask by removing your dress's sleeves. You cross the bridge into the area of the private spaces a few minutes later, smiling at the Hotel personnel as you rush.

You unlock the suite door and kick your heels to the side of the entryway before proceeding to the room. A touchscreen pad on the wall controls multiple functions in the room. You press the center button, which dimly illuminates the room. You rush into the restroom to wash the sand off your feet. Fucking Shuri. On the short walk, you've probably cursed her ten times.

You run into the kitchen, needing a drink. You opened a bottle of wine the other day but never got around to drinking it. You remove the cork and pour two glasses, one for yourself and one for Shuri. You down the smooth red liquid. You understand that the alcohol would quickly combine with the THC in your system. "Fuck," you mutter as you realize you're losing time. Shuri was almost certainly on her way inside.

You hurriedly slip your dress over your head and slide your soaked panties down your legs, throwing both things on the couch at the end of the bed, leaving the bottle and glass of wine you poured for Her on the bedside table. You climb into bed, your head resting in your hands, your elbow propped up, anticipation beating through your skin.

Shuri emerges from the corridor a few minutes later, placing a bag on the carpet. Her pupils dilated as lust darkened her irises, and her eyes took you in. The number of times she's seen you undressed doesn't matter; she's always stunned, unable to speak. She walks around to the other side of the bed and finds the treat you've left for her. “You want to be nice to me now?” Shuri said as she looked at the wine.

"You expect me to show compassion for you just because you pour me a glass of wine?" Shuri reaches out her tattooed hand to stroke your chin. "I'm not," she laughed, tilting her head to the side. "But it was thoughtful of you."

You gasp sharply at her words. You can't wait for her to take off her clothes. You desired her inside of you after being denied two orgasms. "I never asked you to be," you said sarcastically. H oping she'd hurry up and fulfill her promise to fuck the arrogance out of you.

Shuri laughs again, aware of the game you were playing. “You have such a mouth on you.” She takes a couple of sips from her glass. "Lie on your back," she commands, and you do what she says—looking up at the chandelier while resting flat on your back.

Shuri holds the glass at an angle such that the red wine drips between your breasts and down to your stomach from above. The chill the unexpected sensation leaves on your skin causes your breath to catch. Your body stiffens as you try not to move and disturb the liquid on your body. Shuri gets on the bed face to face with the lower half of your body, still completely clothed, admiring her work. She brings her mouth to your heated skin from beneath your belly button, carefully licking up the mess she made.

She stops between your breasts, placing her lips on one of your nipples, and you moan, feeling her tongue circle around the sensitive bud—the bitter chill of the central air hardens it. Shuri moves on to the next one, repeating the technique and sucking until the sensitive buds are tense.

As she approaches, you whimper and finally come face to face. Shuri places two fingers between your legs, just outside your entrance. She was right where you needed her, but not quite near enough. "You're always so pretty and tight for me."

"Shuri," you whine. She was ignoring your desires. "No, that's all you're getting for now.” You sigh and roll your eyes. Shuri catches the action. “Again, with the attitude. That’s okay. We’re about to correct it right now.”

Shuri spreads your legs apart and bends them at the knee. “I advise that you keep your legs like this.” Though it didn’t seem like a complex request, you knew you would feel it in your abdomen the longer you held it. "Wide open, ready for me," Shuri observed, staring intently at your warm and inviting pussy.

You bite your lip as Shuri sinks inch by inch, and by the time she's entirely inside, you're gasping, your eyes shutting abruptly as your face twists in ecstasy. Shuri emits a noise of dissatisfaction, “No, open your eyes. I want you to watch it. Watch while I take you apart.” Her eyes had a sinister glint to them. She pushed in and out a few times to get you acquainted with the sensation of her.

The delayed start provided a false sense of security. Shuri's speed soon became ferocious fucking into you, and all you could do was lay there and receive it as her hips slapped into you. "Fuck!" you yelled, flinging your head back. Your thigh muscles were aching from retaining the position, but you were determined not to obstruct Shuri's entry to you.

Shuri slows her desperate strokes, stilling inside you, giving you a short reprieve. She goes for the bottle of wine and tilts her head back, taking a long sip. You can see her throat bob as she swallows it. It's quite seductive. "Open," she urges, holding the bottle above you, and you do it without question.

You feel like a goddess being poured wine while naked, high, and blissed out. This is why having sex with anyone else will never be the same as having sex with Shuri. Hair in all directions, body sticky from sweat, and the residue of the wine sipped off your skin. You swallow the wine, letting the smooth liquid ease the scratchiness in your throat. "Open," she says again, and although the bottle is nowhere to be seen, you open your mouth wide, putting your tongue out, waiting. Shuri spits directly into your mouth, and you tighten your grip on the strap. It should be disgusting, yet it's hot, and you fucking love it as her saliva hits you. “Such a whore, you know that? Letting me fuck you, ruin you.”

Her hands are widening your legs. "You love that, don't you?"

“Yes, yes, yes,” When she puts her finger to your clit, she doesn't let up until she makes you scream, clutching the sheets while screaming and moaning. Shuri is captivated by the noises you make and how her name slips off your tongue as she abandons you absolutely and completely undone.

"Yes, please make me cum for you," you plead, all the toying and teasing had left you ravenous, and all you wanted to do was reach orgasm. "Fuck me like that, fuck me so good," you scream, your fingers tightly wrapped around Shuri's neck, forcing her to stare at you.

"You always fuck me so good—feel so good in me," You’re babbling, half out of your mind. Loving when you’re vocal in bed. Your word has Shuri double her efforts, her strokes sinking deeper. You gasp in response to a powerful thrust pressed up on your g-spot. "There- right there—don't stop, don't stop, don't stop- "

“Don’t stop, huh?” She asks. "Will you let me have you like this all the time? Fuck you nonstop. Never let you go. Constantly have you naked and ready in my bed."

"I'd let you fuck me again and over," you say, maintaining eye contact.

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you? I'll keep you in Wakanda just to fuck you. Make you cum again and again." Shuri was slamming relentlessly into you. As the dominant continued to drive into you, you shouted. Being treated this way, like Shuri's own whore, made you feel amazing. She treated you like an irresistible toy.

“You want to cum?”

“Yes, please, baby.”

"Do you believe you deserve it?" Shuri continues, not interested in your point of view. "I'll be nice, baby," she says, her voice raspy and low. “I’ll let you come. I'll let you come all over me, then fuck it right back into you so you can give it to me again." You can hear the headboard hitting the wall, moving in tandem with the intensity of Shuri's push, mixed in with Shuri's dirty obscenities. Your moans, her filthy words, and the snap of hips against you all contribute to your symphony. The most sinful thing ever composed. After being denied orgasms, you were going to come, but you still needed more. You grab Shuri's wrist and pull her over to your neck. "Shit baby," Shuri says, recognizing your request. Breath play always intensified your orgasms, and you knew you were on the verge of cumming. Permission had now been obtained.

As the hand around your neck squeezes, power is exchanged. A release from control, you giving it to Shuri and her receiving it. The dominant and submissive. Daddy Panther and her darling. As your airway tightens, you ease into the touch, becoming calmer, more carefree, and wholly trusting.

You finally achieve your high at that instant for a million reasons: the smoke, wine, and the taste of yourself on her tongue. Your body arches as everything stops, and you cry out Shuri's name like a litany as you come. The intensity of your climax causes your thighs to quiver. Shuri fucks you through it. Grabbing onto the headboard to plunge harder into you, a forceful stroke presses you farther into the mattress. You hear a crack that sounds like the wood of the headboard in Shuri's hands, but she does not stop. She continues to fuck you, never letting up on her pace falter. When your nerves are on edge from being too sensitive, she stops.

Shuri pants above you. You lay there for a second, attempting to regain your composure while looking up at Shuri with tearful eyes. "There she is, my girl," Her hand brushes some of the hairs stuck to your forehead. "It's all right, darling. I know she needs a break,” Shuri says, wiping the tears from your eyes. Your pussy had its own heartbeat, pulsing from the rough treatment. The thrill is intoxicating.

Shuri pulls out and stands up, and you whine about the absence of contact. She's now standing at the foot of the bed. "All fours, come here," she ordered firmly. As much as your body protested moving so soon after such an intense orgasm, you were committed to doing the right thing for Shuri. Follow her instructions. She meant it when she said she'd restore you to your former self as her good girl, your attitude replaced by a desire to please her. "Look at the mess you've made." You stare down at the glistening strap coated with your release. Shuri gathers your hair in one hand, the other holding the strap's base.

You get down on your elbows, ass up, spine beautifully curved. Shuri thrusts in, her hand holding your hair and keeping you in position as she shallowly rocks her hips. You bob your head, working more quickly, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth. “That’s it, baby, tasting my pretty girl.” Shuri breathes, tone rough.

"Are you going to let me fuck your throat?" You give her permission by humming around the object in your mouth. The hand in your hair stops your movement, and Shuri takes charge. When she thrusts, it feels like she's scratching your throat, and your throat feels full and tight as if it's been expanded. Occasionally she goes deeper, triggering your gag reflex and making your eyes water. “You’re working so hard. I can't wait for you to ruin it again." She starts sliding you along the shaft of the strap with your hair. As the strap tip strikes the back of your throat, you make a choked moan. Shuri knows this isn't the first time you've done this, so she keeps you there for a second before pulling you off. You're gasping, spit is dripping down your chin, and your eyes are burning. The sight truly amazes Shuri.

"You look fucking beautiful right now. Can you do it again for me?" Shuri requests. You nod. The harsh treatment ignited the fire in your stomach. "Then I'll fuck you again," she informs you.

Shuri pushes you, slipping the tip in your throat again and securing you in place. You calmly breathe through your nose, but your throat convulses around the strap, and you choke. "Take a breath," Shuri orders, and you listen, your throat spasming before Shuri lifts you back up. You gaze up at Shuri, tears streaming down your cheeks, your chin messier than before. “So perfect for me,” Shuri gasped, and you moaned at the adoration you found in her expression.

“Are you okay?” She asks, checking in.

“Yes,” your voice is hoarse, fucked out. Waiting for Shuri’s next move.

Shuri is effortlessly lifting you from your position and collecting you in her arms, hands under your legs to support you. You tightly wrap your legs around her. Shuri moves through the room. As your body is pressed against the plaster, you kiss her, and the strap slides back into you, undoing all your hard work cleaning it. Your fingers clasp Shuri's shoulder as your arm loops around her neck, keeping her close to your chest. You interrupt the kiss to groan loudly, and your head collides with the back wall. "You're doing well, baby. Taking everything I give you," she says proudly.

That was something you admired about her. She never takes anything from you and always gives you all you need.

Shuri pins you between the well and her chest; sweaty bodies push together. Your heartbeats are racing. "Damn baby, you fuck me so good," you moan, glancing down to where the strap disappeared and reappeared in you.

You have no choice but to accept it as she continues with the fierce, sharp thrust. Her strength is exhilarating, tearing you apart and never wavering, giving it to you hard and fast. "Yes, like that, exactly like that," you pant, encouraging her to keep going, reminding her that her "good girl" can receive anything she has to offer.

This time, you get to your second climax much more quickly. The harder Shuri fucked you, the louder your moans became, unconcerned about who heard. "When you cum, I want you to scream my name," Shuri demands. She couldn't stop herself. She seized your hips and drilled relentlessly into your pussy. “Say it. I need to hear you say it.” It was fascinating to see her lose control. And when you feel the familiar wave of overpowering euphoria pour over you, you give her exactly what she wants. “Panther!” You scream, your walls squeezing the strap while you cum, but there's no time to recover.

Shuri is flinging you on the covers, and she's crawling back between your legs for the second time tonight. Shuri adores the taste of you. You recall her spending nearly an hour spreading you open and licking leisurely, not to make you come but to satiate her thirst. She couldn't stop herself from making you cum on her tongue to end this round.

Her lips are on your abused clit, sucking hard as her tongue licks at it, demanding more. You're going to give it to her because you can't bear the thought of disappointing her. Shuri gave you what you needed to give her what she wanted: your submission, your cum, your moans, your pleasure; it was all hers. She wrecked you for anyone else. There will never be someone who knew your body as well as she did and demonstrated it every time you were together.

You try to get free from her grip by twisting your body to the side, but your efforts are unsuccessful. Shuri pulls your body straight, pinning you on the bed by your waist, uninterested in your overstimulation. She was on a mission to watch you cry and beg for mercy.

Tears cloud your vision as the experience begins to overtake you. It's fantastic—too much of a good thing. "Oh my goodness, baby!" you exclaim. You were taken aback as you felt the release exit your body. Your palm reaches for your mouth to muffle the ugly sobs rattling your body. Your orgasm's shakes and spasms were tremendous, moving your entire body with intensity. The whole thing was extremely sensitive. You can't help but grin with the contented numbness of coming down from a high.

You press your sweating brow against your forearm, your unfocused gaze seeking Shuri. She's to your right, observing you cautiously, knowing she's put you through a lot. And you wouldn't want it any other way, of course. You smile at her in satisfaction. “Perfect, Oscar winner smile.” Shuri is delighted. "My star, you did an amazing job for me, baby."

“Always, Daddy Panther.”

#cai fics #re upload #I’M SORRY LMAO #shuri x black!reader #shuri udaku #shuri smut #shuri x reader #black panther shuri #daddy panther #princess shuri #shuri fanfiction #shuri #mcu shuri #shuri black panther #queen shuri #Spotify

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cui-nisi · 1 year

Text

Lavender And Cinnamon (Leon x Reader)

•Notes•

Pairing: RE4 Leon x Reader

Summary: You work at a high-end spa called Exotic Luxuries where you’re assigned to take care of the alluring and mysterious Leon S. Kennedy. But late-night sessions can lead to more than just a regular massage…

Warnings: slight cursing, no protection (use protecting!), workplace sex, riding, blowjobs, pet names (‘good girl’), dom. Leon, praise kink, slight nipple play

WC: 6,750

A/N: A bit different from my usual stuff but I’ve been obsessed with this man especially with the release of RE4 so I wrote this one-shot to help get him out of my head (it didn’t work)! I hope you like it!

Enjoy!

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Your eyes looked over the list of reservations you’d be handling for the day, your boss standing behind the check-in desk mumbling about the shortage of massage oils.

“Seems like the regulars…” you stated as you looked over to watch your boss.

“Yeah…” they sighed, turning to look over at you with tired eyes, “but you do seem to have a newcomer coming in later today. Ensure that you treat them with the utmost respect and professionalism, alright?”

You nodded before glancing back down at the list to see your last and latest reservation set for eight o’clock. “Leon S. Kennedy?” You tested the name, it sounded like a pseudonym as you cocked an eyebrow skeptically, “is that a joke?”

“It most certainly is not.” Your boss finally stood to turn and face you, their expression serious, “they’re a high-class customer, alright?”

You nodded, understanding what your boss was saying. You’ve had your fair share of “high-class customers” from mayors to senators who would come in and reserve a massage. The spa in which you worked had humble beginnings but by the time you were hired the reputation of your spa had grown to become a fairly luxurious business that served people with important backgrounds.

Confidentiality was key with this job; so much so that you were even required to sign an NDA upon being hired. You weren’t sure why it was such a big deal as nothing explicit ever occurred with the patrons, at least not to your knowledge. But you refrained from asking questions and focused on doing what you were hired to do and giving out high-quality massages.

“I’ll do my best to satisfy him,” you proclaimed, your boss offering you a small smile before leaving to carry out their other tasks for the day.

You push aside the ominous ‘Leon S. Kennedy’ as you go about your day, your scheduled reservations trickle in, many of them regulars who you’ve attended multiple times. By the time the clock hits 7:45, your hands are starting to feel sore as your joints ache. You bid your last customer goodbye before going into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Long day?”

You startle at the sink, turning around to see one of your coworkers entering the bathroom.

“Oh hey, Jenna,” you offer her a small smile before turning off the faucet.

She stalks over to you, her eyes wide with an excitement you don’t trust, “I heard about your last customer.” she says knowingly.

“Okay?” You quirk an eyebrow at her, unsure why she seems so vested in your customer’s affairs.

“You’re not excited?”

“Why should I be? It’s just another customer.”

You watch as Jenna’s eyes widen, an amused smile pasted on her lips as her voice drops to a hushed whisper, “so you really don’t know?”

“No..?”

Jenna chuckles softly to herself before she responds, her voice light, “Leon S. Kennedy. He was hired by the federal government to act as a special agent. Rumors say he was tasked with saving the president’s daughter a few months back when she was kidnapped.”

You stare at Jenna as she talks, her words registering in your head before you give her a dubious look. She was known to stretch the truth at times and you couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at her.

“I’m serious!” she urges after a second of silence passes between the two of you.

“I’m sure you are! It’s just… you gotta understand that that’s a lot of information you dumped on me.” You explain, grabbing a paper towel and drying off your hands as Jenna moves around you to one of the empty stalls.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m just telling you so you know what you're in for, okay? Treat him nicely. I heard he’s easy on the eyes so it shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You roll your eyes as you exit the bathroom, your voice meeting Jenna’s quiet laughter as you call back to her, “real professional, Jenna.”

As you make your way back to the front desk, awaiting your last customer, you can’t help but let Jenna’s words wash over you. Was she really telling the truth? Why would she lie about something like this?

Your eyes glaze over to the open computer on the front desk before darting to the clock: 7:56. Your customer would be here any minute but your curiosity was eating away at you. You chewed on your bottom lip… one quick little Google search of his name couldn’t hurt, right? Besides, you rationalized it by saying that it was best to be prepared and know your new customer so that you knew how to better take care of him during your session.

Temptation and curiosity made a heady mix as your hands as if automatically, lept to the keyboard and quickly typed in the name ‘Leon S. Kennedy’. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but considering that Leon was a supposed federal agent, you guessed that you shouldn’t have been too shocked to see little information about him online. Being a federal agent must mean that you have to keep a lot of personal information offline, but the lack of information on him could also mean that he’s just a reclusive kind of guy.

You sigh tiredly before looking back up and yelping at what you see. Across from you, in front of the desk, you’re met with a tall man with long light brown hair that slightly shadows his sharp-looking eyes. His narrow nose and small pink lips along with his angular jaw all came together to create a face that could have anyone stunned on the spot.

“I have an appointment.”

His voice almost sends a shiver down your spine. His voice was a bit deep yet not unfriendly, just distant. His tone gave nothing away except pure professionalism despite him being here as a customer and not a worker. Everything about this man just oozed secrecy and you guessed that Jenna was right when she said this guy was a federal agent.

“Of course, eight o’clock for Mister Kennedy, right?” You say, forcing your eyes away from the man and trying your best to remain calm and polite, just as you are with every other customer.

“You can just call me by my name. It seems like you’re fairly familiar with it anyway,” your eyebrows raise slightly until you notice the quick glance Leon sends the open computer on the desk with his name clearly typed into the search bar.

Your eyes widen in horror before you swiftly power off the computer, a wavering smile on your lips as you respond, “I apologize… Leon.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Leon assures, the hint of a smile lifting the corner of his lips as he looks over you, his gaze analytical as if he’s trying to read you with a distant curiosity.

You swallow the dry spit that has collected in your mouth as his gaze stays on you. “If you’ll follow me to the back, Leon. My name is _____ and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” You state as you lead Leon down a series of dimly lit hallways, remembering that you have a job to do and need to fulfill it as such.

“Nice to meet you, ____.” the man behind you greets, his voice calm and measured as he says your name. “Is it usually this quiet here?” he asks after a second of silence passes.

You do your best not to focus on the way your name fits on his tongue and simply offer him a small smile as you briefly turn around to look at him before answering his question, “we try to keep a serene atmosphere here at Exotic Luxuries. Although since your appointment was a bit later most, if not all, the other workers have headed home for the night.”

You see Leon’s eyes widen slightly an apologetic look flickering over his piercing blue eyes, “I apologize for keeping you so late. I understand the frustrations one can have when having to work overtime… that’s actually the reason why I had to book this so late.”

You shake off his apology, “don’t worry about it. Were you working earlier?” You say carefully, not wanting to sound too interested in his line of work.

There’s a second of silence as your footsteps occupy the space between you and Leon. For a second you worry if you crossed the line, you don’t usually ask your customers about their jobs unless they confide in you first but you can’t help but want to know more about this man… this man who was tasked with saving the president’s daughter, supposedly. You can’t help but be curious.

Luckily though, it doesn’t seem as if Leon is upset with your intrigue as he responds a few seconds later, his voice polite. “Yes, you’re correct. I just got off about 30 minutes ago.”

Your eyes widen, unable to curve the shocked tone in your voice as you blurt out, “you just got off? Jesus, you must be so tired!”

Another second of tentative silence stretches on between you two as you curse yourself out for saying something so obvious. Before you can apologize for your rudeness you hear a quiet chuckle from behind you. Turning around you cast a brief glance up at Leon’s face and see him laughing softly, it’s not a full-on laugh and more of a close-lipped chuckle, but the way his lips curve slightly upwards makes something in you twist as you force your gaze away.

You continue your way through the halls until you eventually stop in front of a door made of glass but with a tint over it that makes it hard for anyone to see anything through it.

“This is where we’ll be having our session for the evening,” you say formally while gesturing to the door, “I’ll give you a few minutes to change out of your clothes. There’s a towel in there for you to use to cover yourself. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Leon nods curtly at you, his eyes gazing at you briefly before he opens the door and heads inside. You watch the way his leather-bound jacket hugs his broad shoulders before the door closes, sequentially cutting off your vision of the beautiful man.

“Get yourself together, _____” you mumble to yourself before quickly walking away to the supply room.

According to the reservation, Leon reserved the first-time package, a promotion your boss was running that allowed new customers to get an hour-long massage at a 50% discount along with 30 minutes free in the sauna room. It was a pretty good deal and had brought in a plethora of new customers who left with a membership. You at least were used to doing it and felt better prepared to not embarrass yourself in front of Leon. You only hoped you could get through the massage without any incidents that would have you fired.

You reach for the supplies you’d need including a lavender and cinnamon scented oil before making your way back to the room you left Leon in. When you take a deep calming breath and open the door you expected to find the man lying face down on the cushioned bench centered in the middle of the room like everyone else. So imagine your surprise when you instead find Leon with his back facing you as he observes the different oils on display on a shelf. You can’t help but let your eyes travel across his bare back, the tendrils of his muscles flexing as he reaches up to grab one of the oils. Your eyes travel lower down his back until they reach the white towel wrapped around his waistline.

My god did he look gorgeous.

As much as you wanted to keep looking at him you had to remain professional. You knocked briefly on the door to alert him of your presence, causing the man to turn his head slightly to you, his voice calling out to you in the small room.

“Sorry, am I not meant to touch these?” he holds up the small oil in his hand.

You shake your head, stepping further into the room and closing the door behind you. “You’re fine. Did you have any questions about them?”

He shakes his head before setting it back down and turning around, striding over to the bench as you begin prepping on a nearby wooden stand.

“I was just curious to read each oil’s scent, I’ve never been to a spa before so…” as his voice trails off you glance back to smile friendly at him but immediately feel your cheeks flush at the sight you’re met with.

In the dim candlelit room, you notice how the warm glow from the tiny flames bathes Leon in their serene glow. The flickering shadows of their fiery nature create patches of darkness across Leon’s skin before being overtaken by light once again resembling a makeshift mirage of shadows. Every flex of his defined muscles is outlined by the shadows they leave on his skin like delicate brush lines dipped in black paint. He truly was a piece of art- a walking canvas.

It takes all your willpower to tear your eyes away before you start drooling as you try to remember what he said and provide an appropriate response, “yeah…um. Each oil’s unique scent can have a different effect on the person using it depending on what they want.”

“Like what?”

You think for a moment before picking up the oil you chose for Leon as you turn to him and force your eyes to meet his rather than glance down at his chiseled body. “This is a lavender cinnamon essential massage oil. The contrast of the sweet and cool lavender with the warm and spicy cinnamon produces an indomitable romantic blend. It creates a calming yet stimulating feeling when massaged into the skin. The scent also restores your mind to a more relaxed state.”

Leon nods at your explanation, a ghost of what you assume to be a smirk crosses over his lips before it's quickly wiped away as he heads over to the bench and sits down.

“Where would you like me to start the massage? We could start on your front or on your back.”

“My front if you don’t mind. I don’t really like having my back turned.”

You nod, somewhat understanding why he’d feel that way if his job always requires him to be on alert. “That’s fine. Do you mind getting under the sheet and removing your towel? I’ll turn around as you do so.” You say gently, turning around.

You hear some rustling sounds before Leon’s smooth voice tells you that’s finished. You turn around to see the sheet covering his lower body, leaving his chest and arms exposed.

“Is it okay if I leave the sheet off my chest?” he asks.

You nod, “that’s completely fine. As long as you’re comfortable,” you move closer to Leon and grab the massage oil before opening it and beginning to lightly pour it over his arms as you explain your movements, “since this is your first time I’ll start off slow. I’m going to pour this oil over the parts of the body you feel need the most attention, okay? For now, I’ll massage your arms.”

Leon listens closely to your instructions, his eyes flick down to the oil that begins to roll down his arm until you reach out and begin slathering the slippery liquid across his warm skin. As soon as your fingers grace Leon’s skin you feel your brain begin to short-circuit. His arms are so firm, it takes you a second to properly grip his arm so that you're massaging him more effectively. You do your best to not imagine how his arm would feel wrapped around you as you begin the session. Instead, you let your eyes wander across his chest (which also turned out to be a bad idea) where you’re met with his broad shoulders and defined collarbone that you want to sink your teeth in. As beautiful as he is you also can’t help but notice various cuts and bruises on his skin, some looking fresh as a red tint surrounds the cuts and a blue color defining his upcoming bruises.

“I’m fine.”

You startle at hearing a voice call out to you. Your eyes quickly flick up to find Leon looking at you, his eyes almost glowing under the light of the candles, and yet his voice has a slight edge to it as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…” you trail off, embarrassment flooding through your skin.

Leon studies you for a moment, his whole body still, almost disguising his presence as you try to focus on the massage before he sighs and finally speaks, “no, I’m sorry if that came off rude. I got these from work…”

“Do you always suffer from injuries like these?” you ask, your voice tinted with worry as you furrow your eyebrows.

To your surprise, Leon smirks when he sees the expression on your face. His lips curl up dangerously, subtly, as if amused before he answers. “If I’m lucky. Today wasn’t too bad. They’ll heal.”

You don’t like how dismissive he is of his injuries but you supposed him coming down to a spa was a way for him to try to relax and take his mind off of his strenuous job. You redouble your efforts, determined to give this man the best massage of his life. For a while you’re able to do this, your eyes focusing on his pressure points as you massage his arms. From time to time your eyes glance up to catch Leon already looking at you, his eyes watching you with a glimmer of something that you can’t discern.

“Is there something wrong? Am I applying too much pressure?” you question hesitantly after catching him looking at you for the fifth time.

He shakes his head, his eyes still attached to yours, “no, sorry if I was making you uncomfortable. I guess I was just trying to get a read on you. You seem young, but by the looks of it you’ve been doing this for awhile.”

Did he want to learn more about you? You pushed the thought away quickly, he was probably just trying to make casual conversation. You answered with a small smile, “I’ve always liked making people feel good. As a kid that was in the form of giving my mom really bad back massages that she pretended wasn’t practically cracking her spine,” you see Leon’s chest heave up and down slightly as he chuckles quietly, “seriously though, something about giving someone a massage is just… fulfilling to me. It’s intimate, quiet, and serene. It’s just as relaxing for me as it is for my clients sometimes…”

Leon observes the way your voice becomes softer, and more thoughtful as you speak. He smiles at your words, this time allowing you to see his shiny teeth and you feel your heartbeat speed up knowing you were able to draw that kind of expression out of him.

“I admire your passion. I’m sure this job isn’t easy.”

“‘I’m sure it’s nothing compared to what you have to do.”

“Doesn’t matter which one is harder. The point is that you like what you do and you do it well. That requires a lot of patience and discipline. You should take pride in that.”

You feel your eyes widen slightly at Leon’s words, sincerity pouring through his tone.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture you…” Leon huffs out a humorless laugh as he turns to look away from you, his eyes tracing the lines on the ceiling.

“You weren’t. I appreciate it, Leon,” you say honestly with a small smile as you finish massaging his arms. You turn around to face the clock that hangs on the wall, “we have about 45 minutes left. Is there any other area you’d like me to show attention to?”

Leon seems to think for a moment, his icy-blue eyes traveling over to you before he speaks, “would you be okay with massaging my legs? My job today required a lot of running and I can tell I’m going to wake up sore in the morning.”

You nod before moving down to his legs and cautiously moving the sheet up until it’s lying halfway across his thighs. You do your best not to stare at his toned legs as you begin pouring more massage oil on him before pressing your thumbs into his calves. You continue massaging the different parts of Leon’s legs, the oil glistening off of his skin while the candlelights reflect a warm glow onto him. You gradually move higher and higher up his leg until you press down on his inner thigh absentmindedly when you're brought back to the present after hearing a noise escape from Leon’s lips.

Fear spreads through you as you quickly pull your hands away from him as if he was a fire.

“A-are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” you ask frantically, your eyes wide with worry.

Looking at Leon however, you’re met with an interesting sight. Rather than the scowl or grimace you were expecting to see you notice a slight tinge of red dusting over his cheeks. Was he blushing? He quickly meets your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed slightly but not in annoyance at you as he speaks lowly, “I’m fine, sorry if I startled you. I closed my eyes momentarily and when you pressed into my thigh it just-” he cuts himself off, promptly clearing his throat and stealing his expression. “I was just surprised is all.”

You look at him, studying his behavior with confusion pooling into your eyes as you speak up hesitantly, “did you… want me to stop? I can always begin working on your back if you feel uncomfortable.”

“No… you don’t need to stop. You’re doing fine, really. I was just… taken aback.” while he speaks politely, you can just barely pick up a shred of something else in his eyes. A flash of… want?

Before you can dissect the look further Leon leans back down and closes his eyes. You take a second to register what just happened before cautiously reaching out and massaging the skin just below his thigh, your brain whirring with thoughts… a lot of them are unprofessional and would most likely get you fired if you acted on them and especially if it was unwarranted. But you can’t help but wonder if Leon didn’t want you to stop because it felt… good?

What would happen if you raised your hand just a bit higher?

Your eyes glance up to look at Leon whose eyes are still closed shut, his breathing even. You glance back down to your hands around his knee and tentatively begin moving your hand higher up on his leg. You stop halfway up his thigh where you had left off and ever so gently press into his inner thigh, his skin folding under your touch. Once again a noise escapes Leon’s lips, but this time you can discern what it is. A quiet small moan slips through his pink lips.

You can barely believe what you’re hearing. You manage to not freak out and continue massaging his thigh, this time adding even more pressure as your thumbs slide over the skin on his inner thigh. Again, another moan escapes Leon’s lips and it’s incredibly sexy.

Before you can continue, however, you see Leon suddenly open his eyes in shock, as if he had been in a daze. His gaze darts over to you, “I’m sorry…” he begins, “I didn’t mean to- that was unprofessional of me. I don’t usually… I’ve never…”

You watch in amusement as Leon begins floundering over his words, surprised to see the seemingly cool-headed federal agent flustered over your touch. With a calming breath, you muster all your strength to prepare yourself for what you’re about to say and pray that you won’t regret it.

With a determined expression, you give Leon a look that stops him from talking, your eyes piercing into his as you speak with an air of confidence despite you wanting to throw up on the inside. “It’s okay. I did it on purpose.” Leon squares you with a confused look as you continue talking, “I told my boss that I would satisfy you. I was instructed to help you relax and to take care of you. And like you said… I’m very passionate about this job.”

You watch as Leon takes in your words, you can practically see the gears in his head turning as he takes in what you’re proposing. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long second, his eyebrows knitted in concern, unsure if you’re being serious.

You nod, “if you can’t trust my words…will you trust my actions?”

The man before you eyes you warily. A specific and stringent tension begins to fill the air, the feeling so palpable that you can practically feel it prickle your skin. You don’t even realize the breath you’ve been holding in your chest as you await Leon’s response until he finally speaks, his voice low and quiet.

“Help me relax, _____.”

That’s all it takes for you to continue your massage, but this time you let your hands roam freely. You start back up at his thigh, your hands sinking into his malleable skin as a small soft huff of air leaves Leon’s lips. You continue your climb up his leg until your hand eventually reaches underneath the towel, you can see the growing tent of Leon’s desires and smile up at the man before looking back down.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing this…” you say softly before pulling the towel off and revealing all of Leon, his bare body completely and utterly at your mercy.

One of Leon’s arms props him up on the bench as he stares at you, a small smirk clearly expressed on his lips. “Impatient?”

“Eager.”

Leon’s eyes glimmer at your words before you rest your hands on the base of his shaft, your attention drifting from Leon’s face down to his pretty cock. It’s perfectly trimmed and curves upwards at a beautiful angle. You can see the faint outlines of his blue veins that run up and down his shaft. You trace your oiled index finger over them delicately eliciting a shaky breath from the man you have cupped in your hands.

You smirk seductively, your plump lips curling upwards before you put your mouth to good use and lean down, your tongue making contact first as it swirls around the pink glistening tip slowly. The taste of Leon’s precum is surprisingly pleasant- or as pleasant as precum can be. You supposed his job kept him in shape along with whatever healthy diet he probably has set for himself.

“That’s it…” you hear Leon praise quietly, his voice warm and intimate. “Do you mind if I hold your hair back?”

You shake your head as you open your mouth a bit more, your lips closing fully around Leon’s tip and sucking slightly. As you do so you feel Leon’s expansive hand entangle itself in your hair, holding it up gently. You open your mouth more, feeling like you’ve teased him enough, and begin to take him in your mouth, his shaft fitting snugly in your mouth. Your hands move from his base to fondle his clean-looking balls while your mouth entertains his cock, you feel his tip hit the back of your throat before you’re able to fully take him in. He wasn’t huge, but he was big enough to have you needing to take a breath after feeling him hit you in the back of your throat.

“Don’t strain yourself.” the statement was supposed to come off as comforting but when your eyes looked up to look at Leon you knew it was anything but. He was teasing you and the now smug smile on his lips was a big indicator of that.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” you snapped back with the same teasing tone in your voice.

You turned your attention back to Leon’s dick before using your hands to pump him from the base, they were lubricated enough from the massage oil to set a quick pace while your mouth latched back on to the tip before you opened your mouth further to take more of him.

“That’s a good girl…” Leon’s gruff voice called out from above you, his hand still in your hair but gripping it a bit harder.

You feel your core ache with need at the praise, oddly satisfied to have this man’s approval as you continue working his cock in your mouth. The texture of his veins slides against the walls of your mouth, and your tongue runs against them, flicking over the long lines. Your hands continue their ministration of pumping the base of Leon’s shaft, they slide over him easily.

From the side you begin to hear Leon’s breathing pick up, the sound harsh and impatient. You continue sucking him for a few more seconds before popping your mouth off of him and smirking triumphantly at him, “don’t strain yourself, now.” you say mockingly as you observe the way Leon has his bottom lip crushed between his teeth, “should I let you cum in my mouth?” you ask with mock innocence.

Before you can revel in your temporary victory at seeing Leon succumb to your mouth Leon sits up abruptly, his hand that was propping him up leaves the bench to lightly grab your chin and bring your lips to his. The movement momentarily shocks you but you quickly get yourself under control and kiss him back eagerly.

Your lips slot together perfectly, he feels so soft against you despite his callused hand tracing your jawline and down to the back of your neck, adding a bit of pressure to pull you closer to him.

“I’d prefer… doing that inside you with your permission,” Leon mumbles into the kiss, his tongue running across your bottom lip before slipping inside your mouth.

“Fuck…” you whisper, too consumed by his lips over yours to come up with something more coherent to say.

You feel Leon laugh slightly against you before he finally pulls back, his lips glistening and wet just like the rest of his body. Your hands absentmindedly trail across his slippery chest, your hands brushing against his pert nipples.

“You…” he says after letting you explore his chest for a minute, “are severely overdressed,” he says before leaning into your space, his mouth traveling over to your ear as he whispers sultrily, “take this off,” he commands you feel him tug at your shirt.

You nod, swiftly discarding your shirt and leaving you in your lacy black bra. For once you’re proud you didn’t wear a sports bra like you usually do despite how comfortable they are.

Turning back to Leon, you’re met with his gaze solely glued to your chest. His hands come up as he gingerly traces the frilly lace on top of your bra. Despite him not touching you yet, your skin burns, eager to feel his strong hands caress and squeeze you.

“Beautiful…” you hear him whisper lowly.

Without warning you see Leon duck down before you lose focus when you feel his tongue poke out to lick over your covered nipple through the lace. The feeling is euphoric as you feel his other hand massage your other breast slowly. After a second you feel his hand leave your chest and travel to your back where he fiddles with the clasp for a second before suddenly the bra hangs loosely from your chest.

“You seem to know your way around a bra…” you sigh, eyeing him with mock suspicion.

His eyes twinkle with something as he leans back to observe you once you let the bra fall from your chest. Rather than answer though, after he’s gotten an eyeful he leans back over to you and pushes his lips back onto you. This time the kiss is slower and sweeter as your lips push and pull against each other. As you kiss Leon’s hands travel up your body until both of his hands are cupping your breasts. He takes a second to feel them, his rough hands warm against your cool skin before his index finger and thumb wrap around your nipples and squeeze them slightly.

You break off the kiss to moan softly, the pressure from his fingers on your nipples sending a string of pleasure through you and down to your core. Leon eyes your reaction, a pleasantly surprised look glimmering in his eyes as he smirks at you. Before you have time to recover you feel Leon duck back down before sucking on your nipple, his teeth nibbling slightly as he alternates between your two breasts. The pleasure and pain blend perfectly and you can’t help but arch your back the more he bites your nipples before soothing the pain with a soft lick of his tongue.

“Leon…” you gasp, your hands landing on the federal agent’s strong shoulders.

“Do you want more, _____?” he asks, taking his mouth off of your hard nipple.

You nod, your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you try to get yourself together.

“I want to hear you say it. What do you want from me, _____?” You feel Leon’s breath hit your ear, the smell of the lavender and cinnamon massage oil taking over your senses and easing the tension in your body.

You wanted this man bad.

With a shaky breath, you tear your gaze away from the ceiling to look down at Leon. “I want you to fuck me.”

At your words of admission, an almost tender smile graces Leon’s face as he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “that’s all I needed to hear.”

Swiftly, Leon has your pants and underwear pulled off and sits on the edge of the bench. He taps his thighs before looking back at you, “don’t worry. I’ll be holding you the entire time.”

You sigh, eyeing him warily before biting your lip and climbing onto him. True to his word as soon as your thighs are pressed to his, his hands latch onto your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“Now just lift your hips up for me…”

Leon’s voice is soft yet stern as he looks down to eye your movements. You carefully lift yourself up before centering yourself. Leon gives you a nod before you sink down on top of him. A loud moan escapes the both of you as your body stretches a bit to accommodate him. Luckily, you were already wet enough beforehand so Leon didn’t need to worry about warming you up. As you both take a second to adjust you latch your hands around his neck, pressing your body against his as you bite back a moan and stare deeply into Leon’s icy-blue eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asks after a second passes.

You nod, “ready.”

You then begin to slowly test the waters, setting a steady pace, and begin riding him. You’re careful at first, letting your body get used to Leon before quickly picking up the pace. The feeling of Leon’s thick cock running deep inside you has you moaning in a matter of minutes as you squeeze him tightly, a tumble of curses falling from his clenched teeth as his hands hold on to you tighter the faster you move.

“Fuck… you feel amazing…” he grunts, his body glistening with both massage oil and sweat as your eyes take in the sight before you.

“You too…” you moan your eyes drinking him in, “you’re definitely the sexiest client I’ve ever had.”

He laughs airly, his eyes opening briefly to look at you, “I’m sure you say that to every client.”

You know he’s joking but you feel the need to clarify to him anyway, “I mean it. I’ve never done this with a client before and… ever since you walked in I’ve had a hard time being professional. That’s why I was so excited when you first moaned when I touched your thigh.”

You see a slight blush cross over Leon’s cheeks. Whether it’s from him having to keep you upright or because of your words you’re not sure, but it looks cute on him regardless.

“Since we’re both confessing. I thought you looked extremely sexy when I first saw you. I actually planned on skipping this because it was my coworkers who had initially signed me up for this but…” he pauses, his eyes full of sincerity as he speaks, “I’m glad I didn’t.”

This time it’s you who’s blushing as you take in his words. Leon simply smiles brightly at you before crashing his lips against yours, his grip on you tightening as you begin moving faster against him, your hips rolling smoothly over his cock. After a few more minutes the heat that has been building in your core finally begins to overwhelm you, your breath coming out in harsh pants as you whisper harshly into the kiss with Leon, “I-I’m close…”

He nods, holding you close before pecking you once again on the lips, his voice quiet and husky as he leans into your ear, “come for me, _____. Let go…”

As if earning his permission your body lets go as the heat envelopes you, caressing your body and filling your entire body with pleasure as you tense up at the intense feeling, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast as you let out a loud moan.

At hearing and seeing your climax Leon quickly follows suit, his eyes squeezing shut, his mouth falling open as a sexy groan fills the air. His breathing is ragged and you feel his hold on you tighten even more. You can feel him fill you up as you begin to come down from your high. You squeeze a bit tighter on him to milk him even more earning a sly smirk from him as he tries to get himself together after finishing.

As you both come back to your senses you can’t help the small smile you have on your face as you gaze at Leon. The glow from his orgasm made him look even more alluring than he already did. You lift your hands to push his light brown hair out of his face. As you play with his hair you feel him grab your wrist lightly before bringing it down to his lips where he presses a feather-light kiss to your pulse point.

“I had a great time,” he says lowly, staring deeply into your eyes.

“Same here…” you sigh, sagging your body against him as his hands wrap around you, holding you in place.

“I think my session is up though.”

You sigh, your ear pressed to his chest as you listen to his heartbeat.

“But I’d like to make a reservation for another session in a few days if you’re available.”

You lift your face off of his chest to stare at him in disbelief, you figured this was a one-and-done deal. “You want to do this again?”

He nods, clearly amused at your reaction as a gentle smile takes over his face, “of course. You were able to take my mind off of my job and that’s a pretty damn hard thing to do.”

You smile widely at the man before pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I’d be honored to take you on as a client, Leon S. Kennedy.”

Leon chuckles as he kisses you back before pulling back and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You know you still have your free sauna that comes with your package. You could redeem that for your next session.” You inform with a smile.

Leon looks at you before a twinkle appears in his eyes as he pulls you closer to him, his arm wrapping more protectively around you as he speaks softly, “as long as you join me… I’d be down for anything.”

You seal the deal with a tender kiss, entangled in one another’s arms as the smell of lavender and cinnamon cascade over you, the candlelights flickering gently around you.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon x reader #one shot #smut #re4 smut #re4 leon #re4 x reader #re4make #re4 #video games #x reader

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warabidakihime · 8 months

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Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Reader | College AU

Synopsis: Love, as unpredictable as the changing tides, swept into our lives like an enchanting story waiting to be written. In the quiet moments, amid stolen glances and playful banter, it whispered its secrets, weaving a tapestry of emotions that neither of us could deny. And when our hearts finally dared to speak, they painted our friendship with the colors of passion, turning an ordinary tale into an extraordinary love story, destined to be told for eternity.

Content warning: none

A/N: satoru has been making his way up my ranks hence the birth of this piece. hope you like it!

Oh, shit.

Since when did it all begin?

Or, to be more precise, when did you finally acknowledge it?

You have absolutely no clue. So now, you're desperately sifting through your memories for answers, or at the very least, some elusive hints as to when and how it all started.

When did your heart start to race and ache for Gojo Satoru?

As far back as you can recall, there were no standout moments that triggered your heart to flutter or inspired any inkling of affection toward him. It's not as if you don't find him attractive; you certainly do. But it's not the kind of attraction that leads to a headlong tumble into love. If anything, Suguru seemed to align more with your ideal type, and you could have sworn your crush was centered on him, not his white-haired best friend.

So, when and how did it happen?

And why is it only dawning on you now?

You entered Satoru's world through the gateway of a mutual friend, Shoko Ieiri. You were the latest addition to their tight-knit friend group. Shoko, your classmate in medical school, played matchmaker by introducing you to Satoru and Suguru when they decided to pay her a visit. You and Shoko were pursuing careers in the healthcare sector—your sights set on neurology and Shoko's on cardiology—the boys had taken different paths.

Suguru had graduated from culinary school and was embarking on a journey to open his own restaurant, while Satoru was gearing up for his licensure exam in education.

Meeting Suguru and Satoru for the first time left you feeling slightly intimidated. To be honest, you weren't the type to seek out new acquaintances willingly. Your introverted nature and minor case of social anxiety made new encounters a bit daunting. However, the boys were incredibly warm and accommodating, and their welcoming nature made it easy for you to seamlessly integrate into their group.

As previously mentioned, while you were getting to know your new friends, you developed an adorable crush on Suguru. You found him incredibly attractive, both in terms of his physical appearance and his personality. He embodied your ideal type—dark-haired, captivating eyes, a soothing voice, incredibly kind, a true gentleman who could also be cheeky and mischievous at times. Shoko even tried to play matchmaker and set you up with him. However, a shared moment with Satoru made you change your course. It happened while the two of you were waiting for Shoko and Suguru at a cafe, the designated meeting spot before heading to the beach getaway you had been eagerly anticipating for weeks.

As you and Satoru waited for your friends, you engaged in a lively conversation about a myriad of topics, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. It wasn't that you and Satoru weren't close before, but this was one of the first times you had the chance to spend quality time together, just the two of you.

Curiosity led you to ask Satoru why he had chosen education as his profession. He playfully responded, "Yeah, I know, someone as handsome as me pursuing a teaching job seems unlikely," earning a playful eye roll from you. He followed it with an endearing chuckle and then delved into his reason.

During high school, when Shoko, Suguru, and he were classmates, there had been some distressing hazing incidents. One particular event had deeply affected him, igniting his anger not only at the school's negligence but also at their heartlessness for not taking action to prevent such incidents from recurring. It had happened repeatedly, and Suguru had nearly become a victim himself.

The revelation shocked you. You learned that your kind and gentle, dark-haired friend had endured a tumultuous time at the tender age of 16, finding himself trapped in a dark and perilous environment. Satoru had nearly lost his confidant during those harrowing days, and as a result, a dream had taken root in his heart. He aspired to become a teacher who would be a reliable mentor for his students, providing them with a safe and nurturing environment.

Listening to all of this made you reflect on his earlier statement. While he said it in a playful manner, what he expressed actually made a lot of sense. It wasn't that you held a low opinion of teachers; in fact, you held them in high regard. It's just that, considering Satoru's exceptional abilities, it seemed fitting for him to pursue a grander path, perhaps in law, astronomy, or even a career in medicine, much like you and Shoko. Hearing someone of his caliber passionately speak about his dreams caused your heart to flutter.

From that day forward, you began to notice and appreciate every aspect of Satoru, from the most significant aspects of his character down to the smallest details. All of it appeared incredibly beautiful to you.

And then, the inevitable happened: you had fallen hopelessly and irrevocably for Gojo Satoru.

As days turned into weeks and your newfound affection for Satoru continued to blossom, you found yourself in a bewildering internal struggle. It was a stark contrast to your previous crush on Suguru. With Suguru, you could effortlessly be yourself. The two of you would exchange playful and flirtatious remarks without a care in the world, and it felt completely natural.

But with Satoru, it was an entirely different story. You were a mess around him. Whenever he entered the room, your heart raced, your palms got sweaty, and your words seemed to tumble over each other like clumsy acrobats. You tried your best to play it off, to act as if nothing was going on in your heart. It was like trying to hide a wildfire with a paper fan.

One day, during a group outing to a cozy beachside cafe, the contrast between your interactions with Suguru and Satoru became painfully apparent. Suguru, sitting across from you, flashed his signature grin and made a witty remark about the quirky seagull that had just stolen a fry from your plate. Laughter erupted from both of you, and you couldn't help but feel a familiar warmth in your chest.

Then you glanced over at Satoru, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with Shoko. His usual nonchalant and playful demeanor was on full display, but there was a tenderness in the way he looked at Shoko, like the affection shared between close friends. It was a side of Satoru that you cherished but also longed for—an intimacy that transcended mere friendship. The way he gazed at Shoko, with those gorgeous blue eyes sparkling, made your heart ache with longing. If he could bestow such warmth upon a close friend, you couldn't help but wonder how he might look at someone who held an even more special place in his heart—someone who could be the love of his life.

It was as if a veil had been lifted, and you began to notice every stolen glance, every accidental brush of your fingers, and every subtle smile he bestowed upon you. Each of these moments sent your heart into a frenzied dance.

As you continued to observe Shoko and Satoru as subtly as you could, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy mixed with longing. Your feelings for Satoru had grown so intense that irrational thoughts sometimes crept into your mind. Thoughts of what it would be like if he looked at you with the same affection; thoughts of being the one who made his heart skip a beat. You knew these thoughts were irrational, and you quickly berated yourself for even entertaining them. You didn't want to jeopardize your friendship with Shoko or cause any discomfort to your friends.

But when he caught you staring a little too long or blushing under his gaze, you quickly averted your eyes, feigning indifference. It was becoming a constant battle between your head and your heart, and you weren't sure which one would emerge victorious.

Deep down, you knew you had a decision to make. You had to confront your feelings, grapple with the uncertainty of potential rejection, and weigh the consequences it might have on your tightly knit friend group. But for now, you continued to navigate this treacherous emotional terrain, desperately trying to keep your heart's tumultuous secret locked away.

The evening had settled comfortably into Suguru's cozy living room, where the soft glow of fairy lights danced on the walls. You and Suguru had arrived earlier than everyone else, taking the time to prepare for the movie night while awaiting Satoru and Shoko.

As you busied yourself with setting up snacks and drinks, Suguru's perceptive gaze followed your every move. He couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in your behavior over the past few weeks. With a teasing smile, he leaned in closer, his voice low. "You know, y/n, I couldn't help but notice that something's different these days."

You paused, glancing at Suguru, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "What are you talking about, Suguru?"

He chuckled softly, sipping his drink. "Oh, come on now. Don't think you were so slick in your actions; you weren't."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your confusion apparent.

His playful tone took on a hint of mock hurt as he continued, "Lately, it feels like our playful banter has lost some of its charm. You've been a little distracted, haven't you? I reckon Satoru has something to do with it."

As if on cue, the door to Suguru's apartment opened, and conveniently, Satoru heard what his best friend said. He stood frozen in his tracks, doing his best to stay silent, and listened to your conversation. Fortunately for him, none of you noticed his entrance.

Your eyes met his, and you knew it was time to confide in your best friend. "Suguru, about that..."

His playful demeanor softened into genuine concern as he leaned in, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and began to lay yourself bare before one of your most trusted friends. You confessed the deep, romantic feelings you had developed for Satoru, the turmoil it had caused within you, and your fear of potential rejection. You spoke of your worries about the impact on your friendship, your tight-knit friend group, and the uncertainties that had kept you from revealing your emotions to Satoru.

As Satoru remained frozen in the hallway, his heart raced at the revelation unfolding before him. He had entered Suguru's apartment just in time to overhear your conversation.

Listening to you confess your profound feelings for him sent a rush of emotions coursing through him. He was caught in a whirlwind of surprise, curiosity, and an undeniable warmth that spread through his chest. For so long, he had believed that your heart belonged to Suguru, convinced that the playful banter you and Suguru shared would inevitably lead to something more.

Now, the truth stood before him, and it was a truth he had never dared to hope for.

He couldn't help but reflect on his own feelings and the love he had quietly harbored for you. It was a love he had kept hidden, convinced that he was not the one who held your heart. But as your words washed over him, he realized that the connection between you two ran deeper than he had ever imagined.

Satoru remained hidden in the shadows, wrestling with a mix of emotions—joy, relief, and a tinge of regret for not having revealed his feelings sooner.

Suguru listened attentively, offering a sympathetic ear and supportive words. "You know, y/n, I can't promise you how Satoru will respond. But I do know one thing—your feelings are valid, and you deserve to be happy. I approve of you and Satoru; the both of you complement each other. I never thought there would be another person that could match his energy, but lo and behold, you appeared right before our eyes."

Suguru's words of understanding and support washed over you like a comforting wave. You appreciated his unwavering friendship and the warmth he had always shown, especially now when you needed it the most.

"Thank you, Suguru," you sighed, a mix of gratitude and anxiety swirling within you. "I just... I needed to get this off my chest. It's been eating at me, and I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

Suguru gave you an encouraging smile. "You did the right thing, y/n. And trust me, Satoru can be a handful at times, but he's got a good heart. I've known him for years, and I've seen how much he cares for his friends, and I've also seen the way he treats you. I'm not saying you should confess your feelings to him right away, but maybe it's worth a shot, don't you think?"

As you continued to chat with Suguru, sharing your fears and hopes for what lay ahead, neither of you noticed the shadow in the corner of the room slowly stepping closer. Satoru had decided it was time to reveal himself, his heart pounding with a mixture of emotions. He couldn't bear to stand hidden in the shadows any longer, not when your confession had stirred something profound within him.

Just as you were about to respond to Suguru, you suddenly felt a presence behind you. Startled, you turned to find Satoru standing there, a mixture of surprise and something more complex in his expressive blue eyes.

"Satoru," you gasped, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Suguru, too, turned to see his best friend, his eyes widening with realization.

Satoru cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his usual nonchalant demeanor, but his voice held a hint of vulnerability. "Uhh, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, hehe."

Your heart raced as you met Satoru's gaze, wondering what he would say next, how he would react to your confession, and what it might mean for your future.

As the room fell into a brief, charged silence, Satoru's gaze remained fixed on you, his blue eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. You saw a hint of surprise, curiosity, and something more profound—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Suguru, ever perceptive, gave a knowing smile and patted you gently on the back before excusing himself with a playful wink. "Well, I think I'll leave you two to chat. Catch you later!"

With Suguru's departure, you and Satoru were left alone in the room. The air seemed to crackle with tension, and neither of you knew quite how to start.

"Well, this is awkward," you said with a nervous chuckle, which Satoru mirrored, something he rarely did. His usual confidence was momentarily replaced by a touch of shyness that you found endearing. It almost made you forget how you had carelessly let him know of your feelings.

"Well, I do have a knack for arriving at the right time," Satoru finally said while scratching his nape, his playful nature returning. Then he looked at you, his eyes holding a glimmer of hope, and asked, "Is it true? You love me?"

His question knocked the air out of your chest; your voice almost croaked when you tried to speak, but you managed to remain composed. There's really no use in denying them any longer, so you might as well be honest with him.

"Yes," you said, your voice steady and sincere.

Satoru bit his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress a grin, but his efforts were in vain.

"Since when?" he asked again, his curiosity evident in his gaze.

"For a while," you confessed, feeling a sense of relief wash over you now that your feelings were out in the open.

Satoru's grin grew wider as he took in your confession. He stepped closer, the playful twinkle back in his eyes. "Well, I must say, y/n, I'm quite flattered. It's not every day someone as incredible as you admits to having feelings for me."

His lightheartedness put you at ease, and a small smile played on your lips. "You're not going to make me regret saying that, are you?"

He chuckled—a warm, melodious sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I promise, I'll be on my best behavior... for now."

The two of you settled into a more comfortable conversation, discussing your feelings and the uncertainties that came with them.

"Actually," Satoru began, his voice taking on a more serious tone amidst the playfulness, "I've known about your crush on Suguru for a while now."

You blinked in surprise. "You have?"

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured you two were meant for each other with all that flirting. I didn't want to get in the way. And I honestly think you two would look good together too."

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his words settled in. It was a revelation that left you feeling both stunned and strangely relieved.

"But," he continued, "when I heard your confession tonight, it took me by surprise. I never would've guessed you felt the same way about me." he confessed, his eyes locked onto yours.

You met Satoru's gaze, your own eyes conveying the sincerity of your words. "Satoru, what I felt for Suguru was real, but it's different now. I've known him for a long time, and we had a great connection. But what I feel for you is... it's something more. It's deeper, stronger, and it's been growing for a while."

Satoru's playful demeanor gave way to a softer, more genuine expression. "I see," he said, his voice tender. "So, you've had your eye on me all this time, huh?"

You couldn't help but blush, but you nodded. "Yeah, I have. And it's been driving me crazy, not knowing how you felt about me."

Satoru stepped even closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Well, now you know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips. "that I'm crazy about you too."

Anticipation hung in the air as he drew nearer, and you bridged the gap between your lips by gently pulling him closer, your fingers gripping his shirt before you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Time seemed to slow down. It was a moment you had imagined countless times—a culmination of desire and longing that had built up over months. The kiss was everything you had hoped for and more.

Satoru's playfulness was momentarily set aside as he leaned into the kiss with a seriousness that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he was determined to convey the depth of his feelings through this single, passionate act. His lips were soft and warm, fitting perfectly against yours.

Tugging him closer as you deepened the kiss. It was a gentle yet fervent exploration, a dance of tongues and sighs that spoke volumes. The world around you seemed to fade into the background. All that mattered was the connection you shared, the emotions that surged between you, and the unspoken words that filled the space.

When you finally broke the kiss, you both were left breathless and wide-eyed, the weight of your emotions hanging in the air. Satoru's eyes bore into yours, and you could see the sincerity in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

As you basked in the warmth of the moment, Satoru's signature smile brightened the room. His playful demeanor had returned, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his question.

"One more?" he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

You pretended to consider it, with your finger tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "Hmm, I suppose one more wouldn't hurt."

With a grin, Satoru leaned in once again, his lips capturing yours in another sweet kiss. This time, it was lighter, a gentle affirmation of the connection you had forged. It was a promise that there would be many more kisses to come, each one filled with the depth of your feelings and the joy of being together.

When you finally pulled away, Suguru cleared his throat rather obnoxiously, "I'll take it as we're over, y/n?"

Suguru's abrupt interruption had both you and Satoru turning to look at him, breaking the tender moment you had just shared. There was a playful yet mischievous glint in his eyes, and his lips curled into a teasing smirk.

"Unfortunately," you said, playing along with his theatrics. "Sorry, Sugu."

Satoru couldn't resist joining in, his tone mockingly possessive. "Back off, buddy. She's mine now."

Suguru responded snarkily but in a playful way, "She's all yours. He then turned to you with a pout, "Don't even bother soothing my broken heart." Suguru said while "clutching" his heart to emphasize how "hurt" he was.

"How about I treat you to your favorite coffee tomorrow?" you offered him with a sisterly smile.

"Well, that works too." Suguru responded with a chuckle, but it was interrupted by a rather loud bang.

The three of you whipped your heads towards the sudden noise, which was Shoko dropping the snacks she brought for movie night. She obviously missed a whole lot, judging from her shocked expression: "Did I just witness y/n and Gojo exchanging saliva?"

Satoru couldn't resist the opportunity to playfully exaggerate. "Oh, it was much more than just saliva, Shoko. It was a declaration of eternal love, sealed with a kiss."

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but it was all in good fun. The four of you shared a hearty laugh, and the tension from earlier completely dissolved.

Shoko, recovering from her initial surprise, joined in the teasing with a playful smirk. "Well, it's about time, you two. We've been waiting for this moment."

Suguru chimed in, "Yeah, it's been like watching a romantic comedy with slow-burn tension."

As your friends continued to tease and banter, you couldn't help but feel a warm sense of belonging. It was a night filled with confessions, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

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lindszeppelin · 1 year

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A Taste For Vulgarity

♥ Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

♥ A flirtatious twirl of a holiday treat from the mouth of your boyfriend while at work leaves you craving his touch, and also makes it worth his while.

♥ 5.4k words

♥ Warnings: a bit of christmas fluff, swearing, pining, SMUT; oral (f. and m. receiving), foodplay, verging on public sex if you squint

♥ THANK YOU to the amazing @plasticfantasticl0ver , @karamelcoveredolicity , @burninlovebutlerr and @powerofelvis for helping me with ideas for this story. Hope you all like it!

There's nothing quite like New York City in the splendor of Christmas. The year seems to all fade together in a blur when you reflect back, and now all of a sudden it's December. This gorgeous Monday afternoon lends itself to the most magical of dreamscapes. Fluffy white snowflakes flutter down from the sky, smearing across creaky windows and staining your flushed cheeks. Holiday wreaths wrapped in plush velvet bows litter the doors of the winding boroughs from Albany through to Queens. Every holiday season you're reminded of why you moved out here - you sat contented to be right in the thick of what felt like the most enchanting snow globe scenery. You could stare out into the vast white blanket of glistening snow for hours, but as far as you were concerned you had an even more magnificent vision that captivated your heart.

Your blonde haired beauty worked his fingers to the bone jumping from film project to film project, getting his hands on any scripts that would beguile him enough to say yes to taking on a role that suits his fancy. While you were always supportive of Austin's career, having him away from you for weeks or months on end leaves your heart heavy and your bed empty.

Thankfully Austin was finished with his latest biker film in Ohio, just in time to get back home to you and spend some much needed quality time with his best girl. But what you didn't know was that Austin was set to having his hosting debut on Saturday Night Live. To say he was nervous would be the understatement of the century, and to help quell his nerves he asked you to tag along with him to Studio 8H.

There were a few things the studio execs had to take care of first for housekeeping, primarily taking pictures of Austin that would be shown during commercial breaks and in-between skits. Getting his picture taken was something Austin was a master at, but still even in his gorgeous blue suit you could tell he was trembling under the expensive fabric.

You stood idly by, off to the side, trying to get out of the way of rushing staff whizzing by you with coffees and clipboards. And you watched Austin work his magic to the photographer. He kept you in his line of vision, always - never letting his girl out of his peripheral. Knowing you were there was enough to get him through the arduous day.

It was a fun holiday photoshoot, and they tried to get Austin to open up with a lot of different props. At one point you laughed under your breath when you saw Austin throw silver tinsel over his shoulder in dramatic fashion. To think your wallflower of a man was hosting Saturday Night Live in only a few days made you beam with pride.

So you watched, content to stand there as Austin slowly gets more relaxed in front of the camera. At some point, the head photographer brought out a bowl of candy canes. He gestured to the minty confection and let Austin decide for himself how he should use the prop in a creative way.

Austin's brow quirked playfully as he held a candy cane in his hand, the cogs moving in his brain of how he can best use this. It would be too easy to play it innocent. This was Saturday Night Live, it was the one time where being raunchy was not only accepted but practically required. So Austin settles on doing what he knows he does best - torturing you.

Why not make it a bit of harmless fun? He feels on top of the world as the man everyone wants to get their hands on. The shell he reverts into comfortably was cracking before your very eyes. And suddenly, the handsome blonde standing before you moves with newfound confidence.

Austin unwraps the plastic covering of the candy cane slowly, his deft fingers clinging to the film and pulling it down languidly. He wets his lips with his tongue, and with a sultry stare down the barrel of the lens he slips the end of the candy cane past his pouty lips.

The noises you made to yourself were practically obscene as you shifted in your spot, crossing your legs in an attempt to dispel the rushing of blood down below. But the bastard knew exactly what he was doing. Momentarily, his cerulean orbs glanced over to you squirming in your little corner with your legs tightly knit together. Austin knew his plan was working. His game of sexual control over you even in a room full of people was not lost on him. For a sensible gentleman he craved the thrill of depraved gratification.

He upped the ante. With his focus back on the camera he put that mouth of his to work and wrapped his plump lips around the candy cane, sucking away on the sweet treat.

"Fuck." You said faintly to yourself, hoping it was soft enough so no one around you could hear you curse. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, and Austin glanced over subtly in your direction while he swirled his wet tongue around the candy cane.

Throbbing, wet, and aching. You were desperate for his mouth on you. How you longed to be that candy cane in his mouth right now. If only his tongue was swirling in the sweet nectar of your juices, making a mess of his face as you writhe in pleasure above him.

You were flustered now. As the cameras snapped a few pictures of these seemingly playful candy cane shots, you and Austin were engrossed in a silent battle of mutually assured destruction. As he stood on the set he could tell that you were blushing, not from the cold but from something more salacious. He watched with his eyes affixed to yours as he saw your voluptuous chest rise and fall sharply with labored breaths. The knowing thought that you were probably ruining the lace panties you were wearing all because of him and this candy cane set the blood rushing to his cock. But he had to control his urges. Not now, not here. Later.

The pull of your hand.

The lock of the door.

The groping of your soft, pliable body against his.

Somehow you and Austin managed to escape the crowd of staff without so much as a word as he takes your hand in his, taking massive strides and you trying to keep up with his pace as he throws you into his private dressing room and shuts the door, perhaps a little too rough.

You fall back onto the couch, losing your balance and letting gravity take you where it needs. Click. The metal lock on the doorknob seals your fate. Austin turns around, a fire burning in his eyes. His shoulders are squared off, and he stands up straight, determination written all over his face as he makes his way over to your heap of a body on the nice couch.

"You liked that little game I played out there, baby?" He asked with a knowing cocky smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, you certainly did. But why give him the satisfaction right away? Let the sexual tension brew a little deeper. Keep playing into this cat and mouse game you've found yourself in.

"I don't know what you mean, Austin." You say in an airy tone, playing dumb.

Austin scoffs. Rolling his eyes. "Now you wanna act all innocent, huh?" He says lowly. As he makes his way over to the side of the couch he reveals to you one of his hands from behind his back. And in it, was the minty confection that started it all. He raised his brows, holding up the half eaten candy cane. "This," He starts. Bringing the candy agonizingly slow up to his mouth., his tongue fell from his lips, and he purposefully made a loud slurping noise as he brought the candy cane into his mouth, sucking away on the treat. His crystalline orbs bore holes into your doe eyes, melting away your façade. You felt your wetness drip out from your needy core, soaking your already ruined panties further. A little whine slipped past your lips that you hope Austin didn't catch - but he did.

With a wet pop he released the candy cane from his teasing mouth and hummed in delight. He continued on, "Even with an entire room of people watching my every move, I can still manage to make you so needy for me. I could practically smell your arousal from the other side of the room." He purred huskily.

You trembled under his intense gaze as his eyes narrowed in on you, surveying the landscape of your body and watching as your legs slowly fell open naturally on their own accord, as if instinctually your pussy naturally calls out for him without even a second thought. Your body betrays your mind, but you allow it. You both know he's right.

Without so much as breathy moan reverberating in your throat and into Austin's ears, he smugly smirked. But now he was on the attack, no more messing around. Austin placed the candy cane back in his mouth, most of it hanging out of his mouth as he firmly hold onto it between his full lips as if it were a cigarette.

Austin makes his descent on the couch, his long body slithering over yours as he follows you. You scurry back to the other side of the couch, allowing him the room his long legs need to fit his entire lean frame over you. And he does. He slots his hard body into yours like two pieces of a puzzle. Your legs go to wrap around his waist, and his hands make their final destination on either side of your head as he holds all of his weight in his arms.

His face is mere inches away from yours, that god forsaken candy cane is so close that your tongue could reach out and lick the sweet treat while still in Austin's mouth. But he has other plans.

With a devilish twinkle in his eye, he takes one of his hands and takes the candy cane out of his mouth, a string of his saliva comes with it. Holding it with his thumb and index finger, he taunts you with it by dragging the end of it that was in his warm mouth along your lips. The peppermint tingles on your mouth, and somehow you just know to open your mouth just a little and wait for Austin to slip the confection inside.

Austin breathily chuckles. "I didn't even have to ask you to open your mouth, you just do it on your own accord. Such a good girl you are." He watches intently, chewing on his bottom lip as you eagerly accept the candy cane dripping with his saliva. You wrap your lips securely around the length of the candy cane, swirling your own tongue and collecting all of it's minty freshness in your mouth.

As Austin watched you suck on his leftovers, he ground his semi hardened cock constricted by his blue trousers against your sopping core. You whimpered around the candy cane feeling his shaft grind delicious friction against your pussy. Even through his slacks Austin could feel how wet you were for him. Your slick was coming out in droves, free to ooze out from your ruined panties. You were nervous to make a mess of him and have Austin walk around the studio with a giant wet spot directly over his crotch for the rest of the day, but he didn't care. In fact, he moaned and rolled his hips harder and slower against you, making sure you felt every single hard inch of his cock.

You rolled your eyes back and hummed in pleasure, your hands reached around and clung onto his strong shoulders trying to grasp ahold of him for purchase. Wet kisses trailed up the column of your neck from Austin as he left a sticky mess in his wake. He growled when he lavished that sweet sensitive spot where your ear meets your jaw, sticking his long tongue out and licking the erogenous zone tenderly. You swear you could feel your soul attempt to leave your body with how committed Austin is to your pleasure. Your back arched off the sofa as your nails dug a little deeper into the shoulder pads of Austin's suit jacket.

His hot breath pooled at the shell of your ear as he buried his face in your neck. "As much as I wanna hear those sexy little moans of yours that I love so much, you gotta promise to keep being my good girl and keep that pretty mouth shut. Don't want everybody hearing you come undone. That's for my ears only." He warned.

You furrowed your brows in frustration. That wasn't going to be an easy task. Even the slightest of movements from Austin has you babbling incoherent things and moaning for him like it's the one thing you were put on this Earth to do. But, you wanted to be good. So you nodded along with his command.

He smiled against your skin and kissed your cheek. "I know you can do it, baby. Just keep your mouth full of that candy cane for me."

Austin began to travel south down your body, leaving searing kisses and hot little whimpers on every ounce of flesh he could get his mouth on. You adjusted your body so your upper half was a little propped up with a couch cushion behind your back for support. Your eyes fluttered closed as Austin sank to his knees on the floor below you and hiked up the hem of your thick winter dress that hugged your body in a way that drives his crazy.

You shivered when the cold winter air hit your exposed legs and even moreso when the rising heat of your pussy was in direct contact with Austin's mouth. He spread your legs wide for him with his strong hand and licked his lips. With his nimble finger he looped around the waistband of your panties, yanking them down your legs before pocketing the stained fabric in his jacket pocket.

The evidence of your arousal was clear as day as it stared him in the face. He didn't have the brain capacity in this moment to come back with a remark on just how wet you were for him, all he could focus on was the task at hand. Your perfectly pink pussy blossomed open for him naturally, becoming him to sample the divine nectar inside.

And like the good girl you were, you kept sucking on the candy cane above him, moving it in and out of your mouth to keep yourself occupied from not moaning to the high heavens as you felt Austin press adoring kisses to your inner thighs, sticky with your slick.

Looking up at you with an almost boyish charm behind his eyes, he puckered his lips and blew his minty fresh breath directly on your already swollen bud. You shivered and choked back on a lusty groan, balling your unoccupied hand into a clenched fist to stop yourself from making any discernable noise. He was gonna make this the most sinfully torturous experience of your life, and you had to sit there and obey like his bestest girl should. And like hell he was gonna fucking enjoy this.

Austin's hands loomed large over your body, making permanent residence on your hips as he brings you down a little more to the sofa's edge to get the best position. His lips tweaked into an eager smile - and with one long, wet, calculated brush of his wet tongue gliding across your dripping folds he began his mission.

Already your head was thrown back in ecstasy, legs trembling as Austin's masterful tongue set to work on licking your pussy like it's the most succulent desert he's ever had. Your moans were muffled by the candy cane that was shrinking my the second. While your mouth was drowning in the peppermint swirls, Austin was drowning in your never ending supply of heavenly juices made just for him.

Up and down at a nice and steady pace, his mouth sloppily worked through every inch of your dripping folds, suckling up and happily swallowing your slick. His raspy, long drawn out groans were drowned out and you felt them vibrate right through to your throbbing bundle of nerves. The faint tingling of the minty confection lingered on his tongue and only added to the delightful sensations of him eating you out.

You unballed your fist and instead carded your fingers through Austin's golden mane of waves. You tried to arch your back off the couch and grind your pussy over Austin's mouth, but he was stronger than you. The grip on your hips tightened as he pushed you down further into the couch, making you helpless to his onslaught of heavy swipes of his tongue.

His mouth engulfed your entire cunt, and he greedily slurped up every drop of your wetness that came gushing out of you. He knew exactly how you liked it and at what pace to eat you out to make you cum in seconds, but he was purposefully taking his time. Afterall, he was the man of the hour. Austin knew the SNL crew would wait for him to finish up doing whatever it was he needed to do before continuing with the day. And if they were gonna wait 20 minutes or 1 hour before you came all over his face then so be it.

Your dainty fingers wrapped around Austin's tresses as he went down on you, bringing him further into your sticky cunt. You need him as far as his tongue could possibly reach, and he would be content to suffocate in your pussy for life if it were possible.

He took on your non verbal cue to edge you even further. So with the tip of his tongue he collected as much of your slick as possible and dragged the muscle over to your clit. As soon as he started swirling and twirling your throbbing bud you were a goner.

You couldn't help but let out a high pitched moan from your throat, never once daring to open your mouth and project your wails of pleasure for everyone to hear. But damn, did your man ever make it hard for you not to. The candy cane was the least of your thoughts by this point. Austin soon enough planted a sticky kiss to your clit before he lowered his plush mouth over the bud and sucked away. The obscene slurping noises that came from his mouth as he maneuvered his lips over your clit with pin-point precision had you welling up with tears due to the overstimulation. He was sucking on your clit like you would suck on his thick cock, bobbing his head up and down. Your wetness and his spit pooled out the corners of his mouth and trickled down your cunt, finally trailing down your thighs and making a resting stop at Austin's knees on the floor. Eating your pussy like this had him painfully hard. he wanted nothing more than to unzip his trousers and release his engorged cock, perhaps even jerk himself off to the pleasure he was giving to his girl's luscious pussy.

But he knew you were close, so damn close. And you knew it too. Your pussy was clamping shut around nothing, and your whole body practically levitated off of the couch. You shut your eyes, shook violently and let an airy groan rip through your vocal chords. With your mouth still hold on for dear life to the candy cane, you manage to somehow mumble Austin's name, albeit not that clearly. But all that mattered was you could scream his name as you felt your orgasm crash over you like a tidal wave.

Austin moaned long and thickly against your cunt, releasing your clit from his mouth and dipping his tongue back into your folds to lap up your climax like a good boy. He fluffed his long lashes at you, searching for your face of approval from him that he did a good job. And finally you manage to open your eyes and throb at the sight before you - Austin looking completely fucked out with your slick coating his lips and nose, cleaning you up ardently.

A weak little smile stuck to your face as you tenderly ran your fingers through his hair. At long last that candy cane had withered down to nothing in your mouth, melting away in the back of your throat and leaving a minty aftertaste in it's wake. Finally, you had your voice back.

"Holy fuck, Austin." You moaned wistfully. Your head lolled back against the couch, savoring in the way his mouth is still slurping up every last drop of your cum.

Austin whimpered below you. "Goddamn, that was so fucking hot." He panted against your folds.

You chewed on your bottom lip, still on cloud nine from what Austin was able to to do your pussy. "Thank you, baby." You softly purred.

He smiled, delivering doting little nibbles to your soaked inner thighs. "You're welcome, sweetness. My pleasure". With one or two last kisses to your extremely sensitive clit, he rocked back on his boot heels and placed his hands on his knees, allowing himself to stand back up.

His sizable cock was practically staring you in the face, taunting you even further. Austin tried his best to collect himself as he ran one hand through his locks and the other one over his mouth, wiping away your juices and swallowing the remnants of you that lingered on his palate.

With enough strength you peel yourself off the back of the couch and sit fully on the edge. Your hands reach up to glide over his lap, your fingertips danced up his toned thighs. You could feel him trembling beneath your gentle touch. His cock twitched in his pants hard and proud as he peered down at you with a glazed over look in his eyes.

Without breaking eye contact, one of your hands palms his hearty erection. He knits his brow and clenched his jaw, already losing his mind at the feel of his cock getting some form of attention. "Just what do you think you're doin', missy?" He asks playfully, the lust sticking to his vocal chords like glue.

You bat your pretty eyes up at him and unzip his fly. "What, am I not allowed to suck my man's cock?" You ask seductively.

Austin pursed his lips and chuckled. A rosy flush donned his cheeks. "You wanna make me cum right now, babygirl?" He asked with a raise of one quizzical brow.

You nodded, your fingers hooked onto the waistband of his pants and his boxers, pulling them down his delicious ass and exposing his red cock to the chilly air, making his hiss. "I can't wait until later. And by the looks of it, you can't either."

Honestly you don't even give Austin the chance to respond to you before you spit generously into your hands and wrap them around his impressive girth. Austin bit down on his full bottom lip, letting out a ragged groan. The sound of your slippery hands milking his cock made you wet all over again, and made his cock heavier in your palms.

"Fuck." He moaned as he threw his head back for a second, trying to keep his volume at an even keel. "You're determined to get me fired, aren't you?" He breathily laughed as he looked back down and watched as his cock got lavished with much needed attention.

You giggle cutely and wet your lips. "No, just determined to have you cum down my throat." You retorted.

Austin eyes widened as he saw you open your mouth and wrap your glistening lips around his aching tip. He balled one of his fists and brought it to his mouth, clamping down on his knuckles to suppress the primal anguished moan that threatened to escape him. He was determined to not make a peep, which in retrospect was not his best idea for these sudden turn of events. There was no chance in hell he would keep quiet, but he had to try his best.

You worked on sucking on the aching head of his cock at first, and stroking his veiny shaft in time with the bobbing of your head to get him started. He was already hot and bothered, sweating profusely under the collar. Fuck, why did he have to be wearing this suit right now?! if it were up to him and you he'd already have been stark naked right now. But the royal blue suit made him somehow even more ethereal, and it turned you on in droves.

Hearing Austin writhe and moan above you as you worked his cock was like music to your hears. He was a mess up there trying to keep his composure. The feel of your lips around his needy cock was always one of the best feelings in the world, next to plunging himself deep inside your dripping pussy. He savored in every lick and stroke of your fingers.

You hummed around his length, and you took him further into your mouth. Removing one of your hands and placing it upon the back of his thigh, you softly gagged around his cock as you took him into the back of your throat.

He shuddered and closed his eyes at the feeling of being swallowed whole by your mouth. When you felt like your gag reflex was under control you went back to sucking him off and jerking off the rest of him that you didn't want to deepthroat. This was all about his pleasure, and right now you wanted to shower his cock with as much adoration as humanly possible. You set a steady pace of blowing his engorged cock, heavy on your tongue. Moans muffled by his girth blanketed him and made his cock throb in your mouth. Not only that, but he could feel the minty tingle of the candy cane on your palate. He was in pure heaven.

Drool seeped out the corners of your mouth, making a mess of him. He sucked in a harsh breath as he hissed in sweet agony. "Oh god. Yes my love, suck my cock just like that. Please." He begged, moaning barely above a whisper, straining to not scream your name from the rooftops. His rocky baritone struck your heartstrings and made your pussy flutter, getting yourself all worked up with a fresh pooling of arousal.

His hands found their way into your long tresses as he was getting lost in the serene pleasure of your mouth sloppily stroking him to another planet. It was wet, it was messy, and it was just how he liked it. Pure devotion from his girl's mouth to his cock. All the love he had for you came pouring out of him like a faucet, and he let one long drawn out moan float in the air from his mouth and into your ears.

That was the one chance he thought he had to allow himself to let go completely. If someone had walked by his dressing room and heard him groaning in ecstasy then he wasn't the wiser. At this moment all he cared about was his impending orgasm, which was vast approaching.

You knew this too, as you could feel his hips stuttering in your mouth as he plunged his cock in and out of your mouth as you slurped his cock like that candy cane.

Austin's eyes sprang open, feeling his climax building in the depths of his aching balls, ready to spill out into your mouth. He panted hard above you, threading his long fingers even more in your hair. You sped up your pace, bobbing your head a little faster now on his cock, letting your tongue caress the underside of his shaft.

His vocal chords let out a shredded, desperate moan. "I-I'm gonna cum". He whined helplessly.

With a few final masterful strokes of his cock and licks of his shaft, Austin ceased his thrusting hips and allowed his body to take over. The feeling of being possessed by spirit was just about equal in measure to how violent he shuddered above you. "Fuuuuck, here it comes, baby." He bellowed gruffly.

His thick hot cum spurted out in your mouth, and you greedily swallowed everything he had to offer you.

Austin heaved ragged breaths, his lungs craving the sweet oxygen as his cock paints your throat with his cum. "Holy shit. I can't stop cuming." He chuckled, grunting after the last few drops of cum drained his cock.

You moaned around him, and when he was finished cuming you slowly slid your mouth off of his cock. Thickly swallowing his seed, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. "I always make sure my man is properly satisfied." You wink, batting your long flirty lashes at him from below.

Austin ran his hand down his face and heaved a heavy sigh, feeling like he just ran a marathon. He breathed in and out before placing his hands on his hips. "Goddamn, you sucked my cock so good I don't even know where i'm at." He laughs bewildered.

You stand up from the couch, feeling your orgasm from earlier and your newfound wetness trickle down your thighs. And you gently pull Austin's pants back up his hips, helping him out as he stood there aloof trying to regain his composure. "I'd rather pretend that we were at home instead of on the set of SNL, to be honest." You chuckled.

Austin raised his brows, suddenly reminded of his surroundings. "Ah yes, that's right. SNL. Let's pray to God nobody heard the goings-on in here. What happens in the dressing room stays in the dressing room." He laughs with that pearly white smile you love so much.

You nod, laughing along. "You don't have to tell me twice honey. My lips are sealed."

Gathering up Austin's pants you help him to tuck his cock back inside his undergarments seeing as he's too love drunk to do much of anything, which made you smile proudly to yourself.

Austin looked down at you fumbling with his cock, finding it an oddly romantic gesture of helping to put him back where he belongs. He blushes and flicks his eyes down at yours. "Thank you, baby. Always so good to me." He says sweetly.

He kisses your forehead and softly bats your hands away from him so he can do the rest of the work for you. You turn your attention away from Austin to give him some space to adjust himself in his pants to the vanity table with a large mirror on the opposite wall of his dressing room. You scamper over there and attempt to clean yourself up, making yourself out to be like you didn't just get eaten out and gag on your boyfriend's massive cock.

You heard the final zip of Austin's pants behind you as you fluffed your hair and put down your dress to where it should properly be. And from behind you, you feel Austin's long arms wrap around your waist, bringing your flush to his body. He looks at you with tender soft eyes through the mirror, and you look back at his reflection with just as much love, smiling shyly.

Austin places a kiss to your cheek. "Ready to head back out there?" He whispers, his bassy timbre still sending chills up your spine.

You take one final look at yourself in the mirror and sigh. "Ready as i'll ever be."

He chuckles lowly and unfurls himself from your body, taking one of your hands in his. Somehow the two of you manage to get through the rest of the day unscathed, and the crew on set were none the wiser to the sinful erotica happening in Austin's dressing room.

One thing is for damn sure, you're never gonna look at a candy cane the same way again.

I didn't know who to tag in this, so i left all my usual tagged besties in here <3

@aconflagrationofmyown @harringrove-sketchbookpages @samfangirls @2lekk @moonchild-daniella @austinbutlersworld @unadulteratedkingdomzombie @sapphirescripts @ash-omalley @pearlparty @denised916 @cartooncoaster @flowersofcement @allittakesisoneflight @purejasmine @austinbutlerinleather @allittakesisoneflight @madisonafangirl @sournatromanoff @denised916 @donnamarie23 @houseofcoquettes @pennyroyalcreep @austin-butler-library @lrd98 @fallinlovewithurlove @raspberry-coulis @bisexualwvtson @elvisstyles @mymamalife @oldermenluverrr @pennyroyalcreep @houseofcoquettes @flwrs4aust @auztin777 @sparklemichele @presleyobsessed @avengen @elvisabutler @blurredcolour @tacozebra051

@kendralavon7 @michellelv @comfortzonequeen @slowsweetlove @unstoppableminx @infatuatedharleys @oh-kurva @troubleinapinksuit

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #austin butler x you #austin butler x fem!reader #austinbutleredit #austin butler x y/n #austin butler elvis #austin babe-ler #Austin butler fanfic

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that-student-that-has-homework · 1 month

Note

Heyy, I’ve been reading your wonderful one piece works for a while — and I couldn’t stop wondering how are you actually doing those magnificent headers?

Like… hello? The great quality, with additional 3D-alike details I could catch by my eyes? I got only Ibis Paint X on mobile, since I’m only a young man that literally two months ago went on a life-time ‘adventure’ of living alone in a small apartment.

In short — I got no money to pay for additional graphics/drawing programs, not yet at least

Hello!

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoy my writing - I'm curious to know what's your favorite piece / part? Also I'm so happy you like my headers? Makes it feel worth it to spend time on them! :D

I have excellent news for you, I used a mix of Canva and Photopea. They're both FREE!

I'll be explaining the process for making these two kinda? The full tutorial is below the cut, to be courteous to the other folks, hope you don't mind?

Though I am hearing that Canva has given people some grief. But Photopea is just *chefs kiss*

If you've ever used photoshop, Photopea is essentially a free photoshop, and it even has the automation tools! An absolute lifesaver when you have multiple layers you want to export (but that's for larger projects not this)

I'm going to assume you have basic knowledge of layers in digital drawing programs for this. If anything isn't clear: ask me, I'll clarify!

//-------------------------------------------------

My General Process is:

Search for official art / images

bring it into canva / photopea

crop / arrange images to match the dimensions

select a thematic color that is associated with the character

separate the foreground from the background

mess around and test things until they work

//--------------------------------------------------

Given "Louder than Words" is the latest one I've made, I'll start with the process for it.

Dimensions: 3000 x 1055 px dpi: 96

//-------------------------------------------

Let's Get Crackin'

Alright let's grab some official art so we're not using any fanart without the artist's permission

I try to pick images that feel relevant enough to what I'm trying to make. For example: the image for the Matching banner shows the ASCE tattoo which is super important in that fic

2. Let's arrange them onto a banner where each individual image has the same/similar dimensions to the rest

That's probably part of why you like these. To a certain extent they have similar dimensions, so they have a uniformity that's pleasing to the eye! (It's not perfect because I threw perfectionism to the wind because this is tumblr not my portfolio) Tip: if you have 3 images and only 2 that have similar dimensions, and the 3rd one can't be cropped logically: but the one that's a different aspect ratio in the middle!

3. lets arrange them in such a way that the borders all feel like they're the same/equal width/thickness

you might find that you have to shrink some images for this, that's fine.

ALTERNATIVELY: if you're going with one image crop it so it's just the relevant info and it matches the dimensions (3000 x 1055 px)

We have our base! Now let's add some color, and direct the viewer's eye together!

4. pick out a color that you think matches your character / vibe - that color is going to be your background Given I'm making an Ace banner: orange is the color I'm going with

I went and named my layers for this lol. The numbers represent the opacity, and they aren't important. I just kept changing the opacity until I liked the way things looks. But here's the secret to the 3D feel:

Motionblur (+ moving it about)

Separating the foreground and background and dulling out the background.

I'm going to show you my process so you can see the effects, but first let's give you some quick skills:

//------------------------------------

SKILLS / THINGS I THINK ARE HELPFUL

//------- Select Similar

magic wand -> select something -> right-click -> select similar This works best when you have high contrast images (like manga panels that are black and white). You can select the black or the white areas. Depending on what works better for you. TIP! Invert selections with ctrl + i Say you know that you want to select everything but Ace's face in the second panel. Select his face with the magic wand then ctrl + i, and that's the only thing NOT selected

TIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Please, please, please, duplicate your original image and work on the duplicate layer. This helps you SO much. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIP! Check your selection tolerance! This could be why too little, or too much is being selected.

//------- The Move Tool

Shortcut key: v While the move tool is active, you can nudge the stuff on whatever layer with your arrow keys Shift + arrow key = 10 px move (generally)

//------- Layer Locking

1- Layer Blending Mode (see Overlay vs Multiply vs Normal) for how this can affect results) 2- Opacity: how see through it is / isn't 3- Lock Transparency (it's the little checker board) 4- Lock Layer (looks like a lock) 5- Lock icon that appears when anything on the layer has been locked More on 3 Lock Transparency: You can only paint on / modify what's on that layer. You CANNOT add anything to any area that is already transparent Here's a demo of what you can do with this power:

Here's the original Image - notice how it's just the lineart with a transparent background.

It's powerful: abuse it

//------- Overlay vs Multiply vs Normal

I think seeing this is the best way to visualize how different modes can affect the color.

//--------------------------------

Back to the Tutorial

!!I IMPORTANT NOTE !!

Please play around with the opacity slider to figure out what opacity works best for you on the multiple different layers we're about to make / work with. It's up to your own style to figure this out. Next: please feel free to not follow all of it. Add more layers, add less layers, take the base principles and go wild! :D

5. Separate the lineart from the background and save it as a new layer 6. Duplicate it and set it to overlay, or set it to overlay immediately

7. Duplicate that lineart layer twice and set the blending mode to overlay 8. lock transparency on the top one and change it to be a dark grey 9. Apply motion blur to both:

Main menu bar -> Filter -> Motion Blur I made it so that the grey layer was blurrier than the black layer

10. More them around a little to give it a "3D effect" as you called it.

It creates shadows under the lines - I was aiming for an effect similar to chromatic aberration (chromatic aberration is a valid way to add punch to your stuff too!)

So this is what things look like now - painful, but let's keep going

11. Duplicate the ORIGINAL / BASE lineart layer, that you DID not apply motion blur to -> set the blend mode to multiply (reduce opacity for it to actually take effect)

okay that's less painful here's what the layers look like right now:

let's bring more focus to Ace's face, and push the background farther away:

12. Use the magic wand tool to quickly select large areas of the faces / focal area / foreground and the lasso tool to refine things

TIP! Hold shift + click -> add to selection Hold Alt + click -> subtract from selection

13. On a new layer with blending mode -> lighten, fill that selection to be white

If you look at it, you'll notice that it is ALREADY starting to draw our attention to his face, but the background is kinda aggressive, so let's dim that down

TIP! Right-click on the gradient tool to find the paint-bucket tool

TIP! Sample All Layers: Turning this option off makes it so that you only work with the content on THAT specific layer. Turning it on makes it so that it is working while taking all other layers into consideration.

14. ctrl + click on the "white foreground" layer to select the contents of that specific layer (pink thing is your mouse)

15. ctrl + i to invert selection and ON A NEW LAYER (layer mode -> multiply) fill that with a complementary color

16. I did one last thing where I took the original base (before we separated the lineart) and added it to the very top and played with the opacity to get something less in your face (layer blend mode was set to NORMAL)

And that's it!

More considerations that I take:

I want the banner to be "thin" or not square, so it doesn't take up too much screen real estate on people's devices

I don't want readers having to scroll too much to get to my writing (which is the whole point of the post, let's not waste their time making them look for things)

I want the banner content to be relevant enough?

ie: with Matching: I wanted the ASCE tattoo to be visible. With matching I wanted Ace to not look too happy in some of them.

I'm also trying to avoid spoilers, I hated getting things spoiled, so I'm trying to be careful that the images I pick don't spoil anything really.

Congrats on starting life on your own! I did that whole living by myself thing too! Tip: keep the pantry stocked with lentils, beans, pastas, baking essentials, rice. They really come in a clutch when you're hungry.

#photopea resources #photopea psd #tutorial #tutorials #tumblr banner #photoshop #photoshop tutorial #digital art #fuck adobe #adobe photoshop

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nonexistent-introvert · 1 year

Text

Maturing (Paper Stars 7)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Content: Angst, fluff, the usual stuff idk. Lots of flashbacks, and going back to your neighbourhood to realise everything had changed vibes

A/N: I'm sorry but I feel my writing is going down in quality but i'm trying my best.

Paper stars Masterlist

Nothing was the same anymore. You’ve only realised this as you sat for a family dinner consisting of your family and the Millers. It felt awfully familiar but so different at the same time. It used to be a familiar concept, that your family and the Millers would have meals together when you were just a kid. Your usual seat next to Joel had been overtaken by Sarah, extra chairs had to be moved to the dining table to sit your family and you again after a whole decade, and the fact that Joel, Tommy, and you had to make an effort to travel back here for the dinner instead of it just being a simple dinner after a long day. The only thing that didn’t seem to change was the chatter that filled the room as the parents bonded over the past decade while their kids sat awkwardly at the dining table. You could only guess that both Joel and Tommy had the same realisation as you, the realisation that no matter how hard everyone tried to restore or tried to be the same person, there was no denying that the three of you had changed in ways that would take time to get to know each other again. At least Tommy got to see you and Joel undergo these changes for the most part, which explains why he seemed to be the mediator and the glue that connected the both of you. If not for him, you wondered if you would ever see Joel again or got to know him and Sarah like the present.

==============================================

“It's gone!” You exclaimed in horror upon looking at the empty shop. “Fuck, I haven’t even realised it was.” Tommy sighed, he rarely took walks around the neighborhood when he came back for dinner. The empty shop windows were stained with the glue residues from posters, the empty shelves were once filled with the latest video games from every console. Tommy placed a hand over his eyes and leaned further to glance into the empty shop. “The arcade machine! The mortal Kombat one!” You tapped your fingers excitedly onto the glass, signaling to Tommy. “Shit, we practically gave our whole pocket money into that machine.” The machine used to be displayed proudly outside the shop, and kids gathered around the machine to watch the players fight a brutally morbid fight. The squeals and noises usually attracted the pedestrians who were using the sidewalk. “Do you think it still works?” You asked, Tommy smiled mischievously. “Well, I do have the skill to lockpick.” He suggested. Joel coughed, breaking between the two of you. His hands were on Sarah’s ears, “Can the both of you not conspire about trespassing and breaking in in front of my daughter?” “Spoilsport,” Tommy remarked. You chuckled, so invested in looking at the shop that you and Tommy frequented back then that you had completely forgotten the presence of Joel and Sarah. You looked at Joel and a wider grin spread across your features. Joel back then would have encouraged the both of you, the only condition of his would be his signature “Just don’t get caught”. On lucky days, Joel would stand outside, preferring to help the both of you keep watch for authorities. He had changed, grown more mature, more responsible, and less of a thrill seeker.

===============================================

“You’re the oldest one here! Instead of going along with them, you should be stopping them!” Joel was being reprimanded, Tommy and you stood by his side. Joel’s head was down, nodding as a sign of acknowledgment at the scoldings by Mrs Miller. “And the both of you! There was a clear sign that said it was out of bounds was it not? Do you know how many things could have gone wrong? What if you guys died there and we never found the three of you?” You bit back a smile, you can always leave it up to mothers to name the worst outcome in the most dramatic way. The three of you merely climbed the back gate of the school to avoid being caught by prefects stationed at the front gate for being late. Not one of you wanted to spend your time in detention. The chances of the three of you somehow ending up dead for climbing the back gate were practically impossible. “Do you find this very funny?” the sound of your mother snapped you out of your daze. “No.” Tommy started trembling, trying his best to hide his laughter when one escaped him. “I’m sorry! Just give me a minute.” He laughed, pissing both mothers off further. You could see Joel try his hardest to stifle his smile as he shuffled his feet. “The three of you need to grow up! Take things seriously! Think before you act.” She continued. Hands on her hips as she let out an exasperated sigh.

“This is stupid. Who snitched?” Tommy complained, shovelling the snow from under his feet. “The guard, who else? He literally screamed at us when we dispersed for our class before he could catch up with us.” You sighed, throwing another shovel of snow into the pile at the side. Joel was awfully quiet, making you look at him in concern. You knew he got a worse punishment than just shovelling snow simply because he was the oldest and was supposed to be the ‘rational’ one. You heard how he got screamed at even more after the Tommy and you were instructed to go start shovelling snow. “Joel, since when did you let scoldings get to you,” Tommy commented. Joel looked up, digging his shovel into the snow. “I’m not bothered.” His eyes caught sight of both mothers standing by the windows with their arms folded, supervising the three children outside. “Hey, they’re looking. Get to work.” Joel warned. The both of you were quick to play along, pretending to shovel the snow. “You good?” You shovelled the snow near him. He merely grunted in response, “I’m sorry. It was my idea to climb the back gate.” You apologised, feeling bad that he got the brunt of your decision. Joel looked at you, averting his eyes after a split second. “It’s not that..It’s just-just fun, to get into these kinds of mischief every once in a while. Was nice feeling the adrenaline even if I knew the consequences of it, would be better if we never got caught though.” He grinned at you. “Murphy’s law!” Tommy shouted his comment from the other end. You never knew how he heard Joel from his spot. “It just dawned on me that I can’t soon pass these kinds of actions off as ‘teenagers’. I’ll get to old for that and be labelled as a literal bad person, a criminal because its technically breaking and entering.” Joel admitted with a sad smile. “And I never should have encouraged it. Mum was right. What if you had sprained your ankle? Got injured? Getting myself into trouble was one thing, but putting the both of you in potential harm’s way? That’s on me” “Joel. It was my choice to do it.” You hated it, you hated how you never know what’s the right thing to say. Joel merely shrugged, he knew of your struggle. “Get on with it. I don’t think we’re allowed in for dinner till we finish shovelling everything.” Joel said to both of you. Tommy’s shoulders slumped in disappointment before he suddenly stood up straight and mockingly saluted Joel with a “Yes sir!” to which Joel shook his head.

Joel is a protector of the people he loves. That quality didn’t change. Ever since you were young, Joel always looked out for the people he loves, and placed their needs above his. It may be the quality of being the older sibling but it was further exemplified as he became a father at a young age. He had always made sure you and Tommy had your fun, doing the mischief and pranks while he made sure the both of you did not get into too much trouble. Took the blame for most matters, carried burdens on his shoulder like he was obliged to. It was the quality that made you realize how much he probably beats himself up over when he realises that Sarah got hurt while under his care when he couldn’t be there to help her when she had gotten injured at soccer practices. You finally identified the reason behind the disappointing look on his face when he thanked you for taking care of Sarah when she was sick or tending to her wounds when she was injured. He always tends to be upset that harm had come its way to the people he loved and cared about even if most of the time it was out of his control.

================================================

Tommy ran to the ice cream shop. You strode along with the brothers, slouching more than usual as thoughts weighed heavily on your mind. “It would be nice to have some ice cream now.” Tommy eyed Joel suggestively. Joel shook his head before his eyes found your figure. You were leaning against a wall, eyes focused on the floor in front of you. Joel pursed his lips, stuffing his hand into his pocket to fish out the remainder of his allowance for that week. “Take your pick,” Joel told Tommy who jumped excitedly to the shop to order, “Um, and one more cookies and cream please.” Joel finished the order, handing over the remainder of his allowance. “Since when did you like cookies and cream?” Tommy pointed out to which Joel ignored as he picked up the cup of ice cream from the counter. Joel walked slower, waiting for you to catch up before shoving the cup of ice cream into your hands. “Joel what?” “It’s for you. Your favourite too.” “Joel, then you won’t have any.” Joel shrugged, “The flavour I wanted ran out anyways.” He excused, watching you hesitantly take a spoonful of the ice cream.

It may not have been much to you back then. You hated yourself for taking practically a decade to realise that Joel had sacrificed his own serving for yours. That Joel probably had to survive on a smaller lunch proportion because he spent his allowance on you and Tommy instead. Another quality of his that did not change would always be how he puts the needs of the people he loves above all. You only just realized he had bought you the ice cream upon noticing your foul mood then. You have always made fun of him being dense alongside Tommy, but you couldn’t help but notice that he was more observant than what you gave him credit for. All these realisations only came as you stared at the raspberry ripple-flavoured ice cream in your hands. Joel and Tommy sat opposite you while Sarah sat to your left, the four of you were at the same ice cream shop from back then, something Tommy was happy to see again. The shop was nothing like you remembered, it had undergone renovations to keep up with the times over the years but the layout of the shop was still familiar and if you searched hard enough, you would find some reminiscences of the past, like the family portrait near the counter that included the couple Mr Watson and Mrs Watson who ran the shop and was really kind to everyone. You wondered how they were now. You stared at the people behind the counter, the shop had long been taken over by the couple’s children.

It wasn’t just everyone and everything else that had changed, you had changed too. The ice cream you deemed as your favourite was no longer cookies and cream but raspberry ripple, the rectangular glasses that you once wore had long been replaced with round glasses.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was how your heart still fluttered for Joel and how you immediately averted your eyes from Joel when he caught you staring at him.

================================================

The rain poured relentlessly, you hugged the jacket around you tighter. The disappointment in your heart grew as you thought about what had happened.

“We’re taking our last order now. Do you want to order for your partner and yourself?” The waitress had asked you, a pitiful look on her face. You felt yourself swallow, feeling small and helpless under the pitiful gaze she gave you. “No thank you. I’ll take the bill now.” You had spluttered out instead.

You scrolled on your phone, turning on and off airplane mode. Maybe it was just a connection error, maybe there was something wrong. Joel wouldn’t have stood you up without a reason, would he? The hope that arose only ends up in further disappointment at every notification. You sighed, shutting off your phone completely before slipping it into your pockets. You hated how your mind came up with excuses for Joel, how your body ached to forgive him despite how embarrassed and disappointed you were. Your friend was right, being in love was literally being in delusion.

Your eyes fell onto the shops on the streets. Couples were crowding every store, it was like the universe was mocking you for your situation. The smiles on their faces, the looks of adoration exchanged, you felt your heart clench in jealousy as you studied them with an envious look in your eye. You walked past a bar, you stood outside, contemplating if you should go in for a drink, to drown in your sorrows. It was as though time had stopped, looking through the glass as you contemplated on getting a drink, you spotted the man that had put you in such a state.

Joel was dressed in a blue button-up and trousers, he swirled his whiskey in his hands. Beside him sat a woman, you watched as he leaned closer to listen to her, watched as he gave her a smile and a shrug before downing his drink. The woman gave Joel a pat on his back. You felt sick to your stomach at the sight you witnessed. You forced yourself to continue along the sidewalk and away from the bar before you could make any impulsive decisions. Before you could act on your emotions without any rational thought. You felt foolish, felt utterly embarrassed at your actions and emotions tonight. You clutched onto the tote bag that you had brought tighter, inside containing the jar of paper stars that you had planned on giving him.

Joel would have never done that to you. The Joel you knew would never have stood you up without a proper reasoning. He wouldn’t have been drinking with another woman instead of actually turning up for a dinner he had invited you to. You laughed coldly at yourself. You should have realised after you went back to your old neighborhood. You should have known the lesson behind it. Everything has changed. Joel was once the person you knew like the back of your hand, but now he was merely an acquaintance you had reunited with a decade ago, trying his best to fit into the idea of him you kept in your heart from when you were kids.

Joel had always gone above and beyond for the people he loved, but you guessed you didn’t fit in that category anymore. A decade is a long time after all…

You could only blame yourself for not getting to know the Joel now. You shouldn’t have projected the idea you had of him, built from fragments of him from your childhood onto him now.

You could only wish that these feelings you had for him would go away.

This wish felt awfully familiar, it was the same wish you had when you had first moved away.

You knew yourself well enough to know that you didn’t want to go through the heartbreak and pain you had felt from trying to erase the feelings for him. Joel and you were never a thing and yet you felt like hell. Maybe it was because your heart broke for something that never existed in the first place.

Being in love was indeed just one being delusional and delirious about the other’s sentiments towards them.

#joel miller tlou #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #tlou #pedro pascal x reader #tlou x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel the last of us #joel #joel miller angst

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dc-and-arfrona · 10 months

Text

No Doubt

----

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1100+

Masterlist

Summary: You’re the only one he wants

---You sat in the cozy corner of the Batcave, engrossed in a book, occasionally stealing glances at Tim Drake as he tinkered with his latest gadget. Tim, the brilliant and enigmatic Red Robin, possessed a mind that seemed to operate on a different wavelength. It was both fascinating and intimidating, leaving you with a lingering sense of insecurity. The thought of him finding someone more intellectually compatible haunted your thoughts.

Tim caught a glimpse of your unease and paused his work, walking over to you. His gaze, gentle yet perceptive, met yours. "Hey there, (Y/N). What's on your mind? You seem lost in thought."

You sighed, setting the book aside, trying to find the words to express your feelings. "Tim, I can't help but feel insecure sometimes. You're incredibly intelligent, and I worry that I can't measure up. What if one day, you find someone who understands you on a level I never could?"

Tim's expression softened, his eyes filled with reassurance. He took a seat beside you, his voice calm and soothing. "I understand why you might feel that way, but let me assure you, (Y/N). Intelligence isn't the only measure of compatibility or love. Our connection is deeper than just intellect. It's about understanding, support, and the unique bond we share."

His words resonated with you, the weight of your insecurities momentarily lifted. But a part of you clung to doubt. "But what if you need someone who can keep up with your intellect? Someone who can challenge you intellectually without feeling inadequate?"

Tim reached out, his hand finding yours, offering a comforting touch. "You underestimate yourself, (Y/N). You possess qualities that go beyond intellect. Your empathy, your compassion, and your ability to see the world in a way I can't always grasp. Those are the qualities that draw me to you, that make our connection special."

As you listened to his heartfelt words, a flicker of hope ignited within you. Perhaps your doubts were unfounded, and you were more than enough for Tim. He continued, his voice filled with conviction. "I don't need someone who thinks like me; I need someone who complements me, someone who challenges me to grow and reminds me of the beauty in the world beyond my analytical mind."

His unwavering belief in your worth awakened a newfound confidence within you. "Tim," you spoke, your voice steady, "I hear you, and I choose to trust in us. No more doubts, no more comparisons. From now on, I'll embrace our unique connection and cherish the love we share."

A smile of genuine appreciation curved Tim's lips as he pulled you into a tender embrace. "That's all I could ever ask for," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity.

In that moment, you realized that your insecurities had clouded your perspective, overshadowing the strength of your bond with Tim. Together, you would dispel the veil of doubt that lingered, forging a love that defied any intellectual expectations.

As you embraced, the Batcave seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a future where doubts were nothing more than fleeting whispers. In the arms of Tim Drake, you found solace, knowing that your love was more profound than any intellectual disparity.

And so, you embarked on a journey of trust and unwavering support, eager to explore the depths of your connection and embrace the love that bloomed in the heart of Tim Drake, a love that transcended the boundaries of intellect and reaffirmed the beauty of your unique bond.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, reveling in the newfound understanding and assurance. Tim returned to his workbench, resuming his tinkering, while you picked up your book once again, this time finding it easier to focus. The Batcave was filled with a sense of peace and tranquility, as if the weight of your insecurities had lifted, allowing you to fully appreciate the moment.

Occasionally, Tim would steal glances in your direction, a small smile playing on his lips. You met his gaze, returning the smile with one of your own. It was in these small gestures that you found reassurance and a renewed sense of confidence in your connection with him.

As the minutes ticked by, Tim finally put down his tools and walked over to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, (Y/N), I may be intellectually inclined, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good book. What are you reading?"

You chuckled, sharing the title and a brief summary of the story. Tim listened attentively, genuinely interested in your thoughts and opinions. It was a reminder that your worth wasn't solely determined by your intellectual prowess but also by your unique perspectives and passions.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you, and as the evening wore on, you found yourself discussing not only books but also a wide range of topics, from philosophy to art to current events. It became evident that while Tim possessed a brilliant mind, he valued your insights and viewpoints just as much.

In those moments, the lingering doubts melted away, replaced by a newfound sense of security. You realized that your connection with Tim was built on a foundation of mutual respect, admiration, and the ability to grow together, intellectually and emotionally.

The night grew late, and with a gentle yawn, you closed your book, signaling the end of your reading session. Tim stood up and extended his hand toward you, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Care for a dance, (Y/N)?"

You grinned, accepting his offer, and the two of you swayed to an imaginary melody in the dimly lit Batcave. As you moved in synchrony, a sense of joy and contentment filled the air, erasing any lingering doubts or fears.

In that moment, you realized that while intellectual compatibility was important, it was not the sole determinant of a fulfilling and loving relationship. Your connection with Tim went beyond the confines of the mind; it encompassed shared values, emotional support, and the unbreakable bond that had blossomed between you.

As you twirled in each other's arms, you marveled at the beauty of your unique love story, one that defied expectations and flourished in the face of insecurities. With Tim by your side, you knew that you had found not only a partner but also a kindred spirit, someone who cherished you for who you were and encouraged you to embrace your own brilliance.

And so, as the night grew quieter and the Batcave embraced you both with its protective embrace, you held onto the knowledge that your love with Tim was a rare and precious gem—one that continued to shine brightly, even in the darkest of times

#Tim drake x reader #tim drake x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin #tim drake #red robin x y/n #dc #dc universe #dc imagines #red robin imagines #tim drake imagines #tim drake imagine #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #tim drake x you #red robin x you

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waywardrose-archive · 1 year

Text

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY | 5

stranger things | eddie munson x reader | rated e | 5.5k

spotify playlist | for @punk-in-docs

fem/witchy/goth!reader, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird?

Weird weird?

He shrugged. He liked weird.

In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: Heed the tags. We’re venturing into spicy territory. 🖤 Check the #em tagd tag ⬇️ for previous chapters!

After stopping at the convenience store that stocked Djarums to buy cigarettes, snacks, and drinks, Eddie kept you entertained and fueled. He regaled you with the plot of his latest D&D campaign, though he hadn’t written an ending. He had to have contingency plans for any option his players chose. You agreed that every choice must have an obstacle or risk — or the campaign wouldn’t be exciting.

He explained the newest sheep to join Hellfire: Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair. Henderson was a pain in his ass and too smart for his own good. You threw Eddie a pointed look, because that meant Henderson was clever enough to foil simple traps. Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes in concession.

Wheeler was a string-bean of a guy who had insight and an infuriating amount of luck. Eddie held his hands in front of himself as if to choke someone. You bit your lip to suppress a grin as you watched the road.

“What?” Eddie asked, getting a cigarette from the shared pack of Djarums and pushing at the dashboard’s lighter.

Keeping your voice light, you said, “Nothing.”

He snorted. “Look, you’d be pissed too if the little shits screwed your whole subplot.”

“Probably.”

“And don’t get me started on Sinclair.”

“Why not?” you asked. “We’re not even at the state line yet.”

“Sinclair is a sneaky little—” He growled and cracked the window. “His heart’s not in it, though. He’d be great if he wasn’t so hung up on stupid shit.”

“What stupid shit?”

Eddie jammed the cigarette between his lips just as the lighter handle popped. He put the lighter to the cigarette and took a few puffs.

“He doesn’t want to be a ‘freak’ like the rest of Hellfire.”

‘The rest of Hellfire,’ of course, meant Eddie himself.

You said, “It takes guts to be different.”

“The kid’s got guts, trust me. Bravery.” He angled in his seat, head close to the window. The wind ruffled his hair. “It’s admirable, but...” He breathed smoke out of his nose, reminding you of a dragon. “He’s only sticking around for his friends.”

“Henderson and Wheeler?”

“Yeah, package deal.”

“Then let him go.”

He grunted.

You continued, “Circumstances change everything. I used to have a circle of friends before I moved here, you know. Just...” You sighed. “Now that I’m out of sight, I’m out of mind.” You gave Eddie a wry look. “I’m this oddity at Hawkins — with a few acquaintances.”

Eddie drank from his Mountain Dew before saying, “Not only acquaintances.”

You grinned and smoothed your hair behind your ear.

“No, not only acquaintances, I guess.”

You took a drink of your melting Icee. Then an idea came to you:

“You know, I could join Hellfire?” you said. “Then there’d be no pressure for Sinclair to stay if he didn’t want to.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?” you asked, disappointed and deep down a little hurt.

You thought he’d said persons of quality were invited to join the Hellfire Club. You were a person of quality. At least you were familiar with D&D.

“You cannot be associated with the freaks. Nope.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want you to face that kinda social bullshit.”

You glanced at your black clothes. You’d been facing social bullshit since you changed your style years ago. It was always worth any side-eye to feel comfortable in your own skin. If someone didn’t get it, or accept you, you weren’t the one to change their mind. That had to come from within them.

Evidently, Eddie noticed the look.

“No, you don’t get it. You’re goth, spooky even, but you’re interesting. People don’t avoid you.”

Which was true — up to a point.

“I talk to you at school, though,” you said.

“Yeah, in one class, and people probably think you’re taking pity on me.”

“I don’t believe that.” You shook your head. “Pity? On you? No.”

“Well, stick around Hawkins long enough and you’ll see for yourself.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks of you. I know who you are, Eddie.”

“Do you?” he asked and flicked his spent cigarette out of the car.

“Yeah, you’re a good guy. But you fuck with the popular crowd. Not that they don’t deserve it.” You smirked at him, which he returned. “I know you were held back, though you’re really smart—”

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh, cut the crap! You are! You’re just not good at school. There’s a difference.”

He remained quiet for you to continue.

“You’re a storyteller and an amazing guitarist, which means you have brains and drive and creativity.” Your hands tighten around the steering wheel, because Eddie was judged and had judged himself unfairly. “That doesn’t translate to the stupid factory-worker indoctrination that is the American school system.”

“I hate school,” he grumbled.

“Me, too.”

“Fuck school!” he yelled at the ceiling.

“Fuck school!”

He howled like a wolf as you cranked the stereo.

On the outskirts of Chicago, you pulled in front of a diner that boasted all-day breakfast. The waitress sat you and Eddie in a booth. She looked tired with cotton-candy blond hair and a blown-out tattoo on her forearm. You noticed him noticing her tattoo.

As you browsed the sticky menu, you asked, “Where did you get your tattoos?”

He hummed in question, then shook himself. “Oh, Gareth’s cousin. He has an apprenticeship with a parlor near Kokomo.” He took off his jacket and pushed up his right shirt sleeve to show his inner forearm. “This was my second. Got it on an empty stomach, so I almost fainted.” He chuckled. “But, eh, you know, it only cost me a dime bag.”

You reached to touch the tattoo, hesitating at the last moment.

“Can I?” you asked.

His cheeks pinked as he nodded.

You traced his smooth skin. The design was rough with a puppet-master hand controlling some type of demon. You’d seen it when he wore t-shirts, but not within such close range.

“I like it,” you said.

As you withdrew, he turned his hand to touch your arm. His callused fingertips slid over your inner wrist to settle at your palm. You stilled, breath caught. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever touched you, yet this was communication. It wasn’t something you wanted to brazen through, yet you couldn’t hesitate.

Despite your nerves, you curled your fingers around his hand and grinned. His soft, brown eyes gleamed in the light slanting through the metal blinds. He looked carefree in a way you’d never seen from him. He felt bubbly, like the sparkling wine your parents let you drink on New Year’s.

It hit you again how pretty he was; from his wavy hair to his sharp jaw and his plush lips. You wanted to lean across the table and kiss him.

He subtly wet his lips as if having the same thought.

Without warning, the waitress set two glasses of ice water on the table. You pulled away to make room. She dropped two straws between the glasses and asked what you wanted. You didn’t know, but ordered a Coke and the first meal that caught your eye. It seemed Eddie was in the same predicament as he ordered regular coffee, eggs, corned beef hash, and toast.

When the waitress left, Eddie asked, “So, you got any tats?”

You shook your head.

“Maybe someday — if I can ever settle on a design.”

“You could always get—” He showed you his outer forearm. “—Bats like me!”

You laughed. “Release the bats!”

He stuck out his tongue as he bobbed in his seat and fluttered his hands like wings, making you laugh harder.

The waitress interrupted by sliding a plastic tumbler of Coke to you, an empty mug at Eddie, and placing a dish of single-serve creamers in the middle of the table. She filled the mug with the blackest of black coffee. You thanked her before she stepped away, keeping your eyes on the coffee. It appeared strong enough to ask what the fuck you were gawking at.

He poured sugar from the dispenser in that hell-broth, added a couple of creamers, and stirred. You watched in alarm as he sipped, half-expecting his stomach to dissolve from the overload of acid. When that didn’t happen, you pulled your straw from its wrapper and plunged it into your tumbler.

“So, obviously, you eat,” he said.

Which was an odd thing to say.

To fuck with him, you said, “No, I feed off the blood of the living,” and took a drink of Coke.

He narrowed his eyes to scrutinize you.

You offered a big-eyed, innocent look.

“Honestly,” he said, setting the mug down and resting on his elbows. “That’s pretty metal.”

You nodded.

“Rich in iron.”

He attempted a serious persona, though the corners of his mouth kept twitching, and asked, “Where do you do most of this feeding?”

“Back corner of the school library — now that it’s too cold to stalk the woods for handsome drug dealers.”

“Ah, you, uh—”

New pink bloomed on his cheeks.

You realized then he didn’t handle compliments well. You had to assume no one ever told him how attractive he was. He did hang out with boys, mostly…

“So, uh, yeah, you found the picnic table back there?” he asked.

You said, “Yep, saw your lovely carving, too.”

His demeanor shifted to sly, and he asked, “Magnificent, right?”

“Oh, yes. It should be in a museum.”

“Okay,” you said as you opened the motel room closet. “If you see a cockroach, you have to kill it.”

The place hadn’t been updated since the ‘70s. All the walls were wood paneling. The brown carpet had flattened paths. The bedspreads were a striped golden-rod yellow. A clunky white television sat on the scratched dresser. The phone on the floating nightstand between the beds boasted 45¢/minute long-distance.

“Consider me your knight in shining armor, milady,” Eddie said, and dropped his duffle on the table in front of the big window.

At least it was close to the club, didn’t stink, and was quiet.

You deposited your bag just inside the closet before checking the partial-open bathroom. Nothing scurried when you flipped on the light where the toilet and tub were. It was typical, with terrible lighting and an exhaust fan that sounded like a 747.

“Not the worst,” you said, shrugging.

With a flip of the light switch, you turned and plowed into a warm wall of metalhead. You ‘oof’ed the same time as Eddie. His arm went around you, holding you tight. You braced a hand against his chest to keep yourself from teetering.

You looked into his shocked eyes before laughing. He laughed and gave you a dazzling smile that made him look puckish.

“Thanks for the save, sir,” you said with a smile and realized your cheeks were so warm.

“All in a day’s work.”

Eddie released you. His hand slid across the small of your back. You wanted to cat into it, to press yourself against him, to silently beg for more. However, he inched away to give you space. He had to have known what he did to you, how he made you feel, how he made you ache.

You dropped your hand and stepped around him, though. If he wasn’t ready, you wouldn’t force anything. He’d backed away for a reason—

And that reason wasn’t any of your business yet, you reminded yourself.

You went to your bag to unpack your makeup and clothes for the concert. From the corner of your eye, you watched Eddie dither before ducking into the bathroom.

The door shut with a faint clunk.

You put the makeup by your purse you’d left on the dresser earlier and went to the wall heater under the window to adjust the temperature from arctic to warm. While there, you hung your jacket properly on the back of a chair. You assessed the room, not knowing what to do. It was only two in the afternoon. There were hours to kill until you had to leave for the concert.

Sighing, you turned the power dial on the TV and left it tuned to some soap opera.

Eddie had draped his leather jacket over his duffle. You thumbed at the fine leather of its sleeve. Silver chain spiraled around the wrist zipper. You guessed the zipper was broken and grinned. It was such an Eddie repair — not perfect, but personal.

Your fingers warmed as you touched the chain. There was magic here. Not the kind you knew from your studies. It was rooted in devotion, determination, and pride.

Would it be wrong to reinforce that magic?

Knowing you had little time, you blessed the repair and hoped it was the right thing to do.

The bathroom door opened, but you didn’t drop the sleeve. If you did, you’d make yourself look guilty. Eddie’s eyes went to you before he stepped in front of the sink.

“I like this jacket,” you said as he unwrapped the small bar of complimentary soap.

He glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

“It was my father’s,” he said neutrally.

You let go of the sleeve and sat in the nearest chair to unlace your boots.

“He alive, or...?”

“Or.”

“Gotcha,” you said, not wanting to push.

It couldn’t have been that stellar of a relationship if Eddie now lived with his uncle, which was a fact he’d told you before you’d left Hawkins. He said he liked Wayne; they got along.

Once finished with your boots, you set them aside and went to the farthest bed. You folded the bedspread to the foot of the mattress and mounded the pillows together to recline on them.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” you said. “Should I set an alarm?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

You rolled towards the nightstand and set the clock alarm to go off at 5:30. That should give plenty of time to fully wake, get ready, and make it to the club before the concert at eight.

As you relaxed, your bladder made itself known. Of course. You crawled across the springy bed and walked past Eddie as he went to the unclaimed bed. You gave him a little grin before shutting the bathroom door.

When you came out to wash your hands, he was sprawled across his bed with hands tucked under his head. His socked feet nearly hung off the edge. He shifted, and the bed clanked.

You looked over your shoulder. Eddie stared at the ceiling.

Maybe that noise was his bed settling.

You finished washing your hands and crawled once more to the mound of pillows on your bed. You settled with a sigh. The mattress wasn’t great, but the pillows were fluffy.

Eddie’s bed clanked again as he got comfortable.

“You should’ve heard it when I first laid down,” he said.

“Are you kidding?”

“No.” He chuckled, which made the bed squeak. “I thought I broke it.”

“I think it’s already broken.”

“Yeah, someone gave this thing a beating.”

You could imagine what sort of beating it took, too.

Strangers who’d met in a bar down the street, their eyes trailing hungrily as they flirted. Then the invitation. Hands wandered as they stumble into the room and kick the door closed. One pushing the other onto the bed and climbing on top. Lips connecting, panting breaths, soft laughter as they struggle with buttons and zippers. Then moans as they grind together, hands gripping bare thighs, kisses on vulnerable necks, bites on shoulders.

A room too dark to see, but sensation enough to light nerves—

Eddie’s bed clanked again.

“Oh my god, this is stupid,” you said.

“What?”

“Just— Just get over here and take a nap.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t worry, your virtue is safe with me.”

“I don’t know, milady. You confessed to prowling the woods, looking for someone who fits my description.”

You giggled and leaned on an elbow. “Worried I might drink your blood?”

His bed made an ominous clunk as he sat up. He froze, eyes going wide.

“Nah, you’d be gentle.”

“Yeah, of course, super gentle. Now get over here before it eats you or something!”

He grimaced with you as he eased off the rackety bed. You reminded him to bring the pillows. He rounded your bed — pillows in his arms — as you snuggled down on your side. The mattress dipped behind you — and you tried to remain relaxed.

Because it wasn’t a big deal.

It wasn’t.

You were simply sharing a bed with a friend. A hot friend. Who you wanted to kiss and put your hands all over. It didn’t matter if he was into S-and-M. He could tie your wrists with his handkerchief and do whatever to you.

You squeezed your eyes shut and concentrated on the low voices coming from the television even as the bed shimmied.

“Thanks,” he murmured over the fabric sounds of fluffing and rearranging pillows.

“No problem.”

“If this isn’t cool, just, like, say the word, and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Eddie.” You took a deep breath. “It’s okay.”

“If you’re sure...”

“100 percent.”

“I mean—”

“Eddie.”

“Hey, I don’t want to make a lady uncomfortable.”

“I’m very comfortable.”

“Me, too.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

You grinned.

“Go to sleep, sir.”

“Yes, milady,” he said, a smile in his words.

The peal of the alarm jarred you from sleep. You slapped the clock a few times before it stopped. Dusty blue light came through the window sheers. There was still time before dinner, you thought and closed your eyes, rolling onto your other side. The pillow here was firmer and warm and smelled nice. The pillowcase was weird, though. It was thick with a waffle texture.

Mom never bought pillowcases like that.

Your eyes flew open. Not a pillow. A male chest.

You were in Chicago with Eddie Munson, who you were using as a pillow.

He was still — too still. He might’ve been asleep. Maybe he was a deep sleeper. Maybe you could move away without him knowing.

You whispered, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

Not a deep sleeper, then.

“You awake?” you asked and immediately wanted to bonk yourself on the head.

He’d replied, hence, he was awake.

“Are you lying on my chest?” he asked, voice still raspy from disuse.

“I think so.”

Heat flooded your face.

“Then I think I’m awake.”

With an apology, you ducked your head as you sat to face the television. The local news had replaced the soap opera. You kept your eyes fixed to the screen, because you didn’t want to know if he was uncomfortable or aroused or neutral. Any of those options had implications that would be too difficult to handle this groggy.

He sighed before pushing himself higher on the bed to recline.

You felt his gaze on your back.

He cleared his throat and said, “I can’t believe I slept that long.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“You want first dibs on the bathroom?”

“Sure, thanks.”

You walked on wobbly legs to the bathroom, where you used the toilet and privately talked yourself out of running away. All you had done was lay your head on Eddie’s chest. No boundaries had been crossed. It didn’t have to mean anything.

Although, he hadn’t pushed you off…

But that didn’t have to mean anything, either.

Though he had been so pleasant to snuggle. His hair smelled of apple shampoo. You couldn’t identify his soap, but it was good. He was firm enough, too, and not boney.

After finishing in the bathroom, you told him it was all his and went to fetch your toiletries. You needed to wash the sleep from your face, brush your teeth, and fix your hair. He moved around you as though he’d done something wrong. You frowned at your reflection over the sink.

When he came out a few minutes later, you smiled at him deliberately from your seat on the dresser. He offered a grin before washing his hands. You returned to doing your makeup in the mirror and watched his shoulders relax.

You asked after Corroded Coffin, if the last show had gone well, and if he’d considered playing original songs.

He tried to downplay his frustrations with the Hawkins music scene as he wet his toothbrush. All the crowd wanted was what they were familiar with. However, they’d rocked the last show like they did the previous ones.

“You know,” you said, loud enough for him to hear over his brushing. “People don’t know what they want until it’s in front of them.”

He snorted through toothpaste foam.

“I’m serious.”

He held up a finger to say he heard you.

You continued with your makeup until he spit into the sink.

He said, “I know, but it’s like putting pearls before swine.”

“That’d be a good song title.”

He laughed — but not dismissively — before rinsing out his mouth.

“I still maintain you should play at least one original every show,” you said. “Otherwise, Corroded Coffin will only be known as a cover band.”

“If I promise—”

“Pinky swear.”

“—And pinky swear to play something original, will you come watch us again?”

“Ab-so-fucking-lutely,” you said, placing your compact down to hold out your pinky finger.

He hooked his pinky around yours and gave it a shake.

“It’s a deal,” he said.

He loosened his hold, but you didn’t. He did a double-take.

You said, “Let me put some eyeliner on you.”

“I don’t think that’ll help all this,” he said and waved his free hand by his face.

“That—” You mimicked his wave. “—doesn’t need help. I want to enhance those pretty eyes.”

In a blink, his demeanor went from self-deprecating to bashful.

You swung your connected hands.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

He bit his lip before nodding. You released his pinky to dig through your makeup bag for a black kohl pencil. You uncapped it, ordered him closer, and told him to close his eyes, which he did without hesitation. In little strokes, you lined and smudged the kohl above his long eyelashes. Then you told him to look up and gave his lower lids the same treatment.

When you finished, you leaned back and smiled. The black brought out the warmth in his irises. He looked fey — and a little dangerous.

He studied himself in the dresser mirror.

“I like it,” he said softly.

“Good. You look hot.”

He met your eyes as if looking for something. Maybe a lie. He wouldn’t find one, though. He really did look hot.

You nudged him away, saying you had to put the final touches on your own face. He said he’d change clothes in the meantime and carried a roll of dark fabric into the bathroom. While you applied blush and lipstick, you wondered if he wore boxers or briefs. Did he have more tattoos? Would he show you? Let you touch them? Kiss them?

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom in all black, save his white socks. He tossed his old clothes on the bed and went to the sink to fluff his hair. His jeans hugged his ass and thighs perfectly, just as his t-shirt did his torso.

You forgot what you were doing as you stared at him.

“Hey, I don’t know if you’d be into this,” he said, evidently unaware of your ogling. “But I brought a few goodies from home.”

You mentally shook yourself. Goodies? Like brownies? Wait. He meant drugs, not like dessert.

“What do you have?”

“A few joints, molly, k, acid.”

“Molly would be fun during the concert.”

“Cool; we can smoke some weed after.”

“That makes it last longer, right?”

“Makes the comedown easier.”

You nodded. You’d dropped acid before and rolled with molly — and suffered through the bleak days afterward. However, if smoking weed made it easier, you’d happily do it.

With a check of the time, you hopped off the dresser and grabbed your clothes. It was closing in on seven. You wanted to be in line well before eight. You changed clothes as quickly as you could in the bathroom. From there it was a blur until you were walking with Eddie through the motel’s parking lot.

The club was a few blocks away, yet the cutting wind made the walk feel longer. Leaves and litter swirled on the sidewalk like little tornados. As streetlights flickered on, kids in homemade costumes ran past. Their excited giggles had you grinning at Eddie, and he at you. An older woman braved the wind, bundled on her front stoop to give out candy. She offered you both mini-Snickers, which you thanked her for and ate as you continued on your way.

The queue for the concert wasn’t as long as you’d expected. Eddie appeared amused as you joined the black-clad lineup. After a few minutes, you nudged his arm with an elbow and gave him a questioning look.

He whispered in your ear: “Why’s everyone dressed like Johnny Cash?”

You snorted, lightly cuffing his chest. He smiled.

You’d forgotten to explain the Sisters’ brand, which was essentially goth cowboy. Their hardcore fans were a whole subgenre to themselves.

You whispered, “It’s just their style.” You shifted your tone to teasing. “But don’t fret, darling, you still look good.”

His eyes twinkled as he said, “Likewise.”

Before you could reply, the queue started moving. You glanced behind you to see the line had doubled. At the door, you bought a ticket and presented your fake ID. The bouncer tagged your wrist with a green bracelet and offered a huge bowl of Halloween candy for you to pick from, doing the same for Eddie.

Eddie slid his hand under your jacket to the small of your back as you walked down the sloped hallway beyond the door. His touch made you aware of your every step, the sway of your hips, every breath.

Multicolored Christmas lights lit the graffitied walls and continued behind the bar. A television played a live feed of the stage between shelves of liquor bottles and Halloween decorations. The bar stools were occupied already. Bartenders worked their way down the bar, weaving around each other as they fixed drinks. Under the din of voices, a mix of punk and post-punk played through the speakers.

Eddie offered to buy a round, which you accepted. You waited at an inconspicuous place across from the bar. To the casual observer, Eddie blended in. However, to you, he was magnetic. And you weren’t the only one who found him appealing.

Maybe you shouldn’t have applied that eyeliner.

Eddie appeared immune to the admiration, though.

He ordered two drinks, money in hand, knee bouncing as he waited. After exchanging money for beer, he hustled through the growing crowd. He handed you a beer, and you thanked him. Together, you enjoyed the beer and mini candy bars from the bouncer as you walked around the tall chain-link fence to the stage area.

Halfway through the beer, he slipped a pill in your palm that looked like a Flintstones vitamin. You tapped your pill against his as a toast and swallowed it.

While you waited for the opening band, you commented on the graffiti. There were skeletons and demons — dancing skeleton-demons — and disembodied heads. Along with signatures and tags from previous patrons. With his beer, Eddie pointed to one demon, saying he’d like that as a tattoo. You replied it would be a cool rib tattoo. He hissed in future pain. You bumped his shoulder and said you’d hold his hand through it.

He smiled, his gaze dipping briefly.

Heat radiated from your chest to your throat. You didn’t think it was the molly kicking in. It was too soon. You sipped at your beer to hide the agony of not kissing him.

Be brave, you thought. Be brave, pull him close by the shirt, and kiss him. Beer breath be damned. Do it.

The opening band began with a guitar wail. Eddie turned to the stage.

Opportunity missed.

Shit.

By the end of their set, a jitter had started in your stomach; your heartbeat pure and true in your chest. You downed the last of your beer — fizzling all the way down — and crumpled the cup in your fist. The springy feel of plastic grounded you to the music. You squeezed it to the beat, feeling the music enter your ears and travel through your extremities. Stage lights flashed blue, then green, like an ocean-galaxy.

You laced your fingers with Eddie’s as though taking him with you. You wanted him with you. His rings pressed between your fingers, warm and sturdy. His thumb stroked your skin, sending gold sparks up your arm. They went up, up, up until they met the music to produce pink, fuzzy stars in your belly.

When the last chord faded, and the stage went dark, you rested your temple on his shoulder. Cheering surrounded you both in an infatuated mist.

Eddie kissed the top of your head as the house music started and a few lights powered on.

“You want another beer, sweetheart?” he asked.

His voice was heaven. His kiss lingered on your scalp.

You said, “If you want one.”

“Sure you want to stay here?”

You grinned, because you did. It was the perfect place near the stage, balanced between the huge speakers. You could watch the roadies set up for the Sisters, too.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ll keep our place.”

“You’ll have to let go of my hand first.”

You laughed and released him, handing over your empty cup for him to throw away.

He touched your arm before disappearing into the crowd. His heat lingered, soft and sincere. You didn’t have to watch him to track him, either. He wove through the anonymous sea of energy, a silver flame dancing over the surface.

You stared into the black rafters and breathed deep. Anticipation scented the air like waiting for birthday cake and presents.

When Eddie returned, you saw him as if for the first time. He was more than a pretty face, though. His dark eyes held a universe. His lips were poetry. His elegant neck was the connection between imagination and perception. You wanted to touch these things, taste these things.

Then he smiled as he offered you a fresh beer.

The plastic cup was delightfully cold.

You giggled and thanked him, even as your eyes prickled. Nothing had felt this good in so long. Not since you moved to Hawkins.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true…

You met Eddie’s eyes over the rim of your cup as you drank.

He made you feel good, too.

Before you could tell him any of that, the lights went out. Your eyes widened, and you pivoted towards the stage. In the shadows, a few figures found their places on the stage. The crowd inched forward, you and Eddie included.

With the first notes of music, the stage lights flashed on. The crowd surged forward, drawn by the thwang of bass. You flowed with them, cheering as you recognized the song. Andrew Eldritch’s deep voice resonated through your chest. You swayed and danced and were blessed. You sweated with the crowd, with the band, with the planet.

It went on and on, each perfect note sparkling like water and flames and smokey diamonds.

Eddie howled with a song’s crescendo, his damp hair whipping around his face. You howled with him and stomped your feet with the beat, laughing when a few others joined your pack.

When the next song came, you knew it was the last one. You mouthed the lyrics, feeling them down to your toes. When the refrain came, your words faded. You could only experience them.

Come here, I think you’re beautiful

I think you’re beautiful, beautiful

Some kind of angel, come inside

You looked at Eddie to find him watching you.

Come here, I think you’re beautiful

He moved closer, eyes glowing, reflecting the light from the stage. That internal universe of his invited you in.

You reached for him.

“Kiss me.”

He did. His soft lips met yours in the dim. The bitter beer and tang of salt almost stung your lips, but it hardly mattered. The world faded. You melted against him, every inch of you dissolved into him. Your fingers tunneled into his sweat-soaked hair to yank him closer. Each tributary of your veins throbbed, your heart erupted with sweet heat.

He groaned deep in his chest and wrapped an arm behind your back to pull you flush. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, sliding over yours, gentle yet insistent. His head tilted to kiss you deeper, lips smearing in a slow slide that had your thighs quaking.

The heat, the weight, of him against you had you forgetting everything that had led to this. You just felt him — all of him. From the lingering scent of his shampoo, the subtle bristle of stubble, to the musk of his sweat. You inhaled it, took it in, made him part of you.

He was wonderful and delicious and beautiful — more than you could’ve ever imagined.

He cradled your damp cheek, and usually you’d be self-conscious about sweating, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care at all. His hands branded you with desire. You didn’t mind. Let the world see.

All you needed was him closer, closer, closer.

Come here, I think you’re beautiful

My door is open wide

Some kind of stranger, come inside

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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