dirty little secret mike wheeler x harrington!reader
desc: you and mike have been secretly dating, and tonight he misses you a little extra so he asks you to sneak over. as they say—like brother, like sister.
genre/warnings: heavy making out mDNI, characters are 18, established relationship, sneaking around, light begging, mike is a needy desperate boyfriend
word count: 1.1k
a/n: okay so i was rewatching season one and i was like omg this would be sooo funny if i wrote a oneshot of harrington!reader being just like her brother when she gets older by sneaking into the wheeler household hahahahhaha anywaysss HAPPY NEW YEAR (i haven't watched the finale yet cause i'm too sentimental but YAYYY 2026!!)
You had been halfway through a comic while lying on your bed when your walkie-talkie made a static noise.
Huh. No one ever chirped you this late.
You quietly picked up. “Hello?”
There was a pause, and then a soft rushed. “Hey—hey it’s me. Don’t hang up.”
“Mike, it’s almost midnight,” you said, smiling despite yourself.
“I know, I know,” he exhaled. “I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.”
You sat up, concern running through you. “Important how?”
You heard another pause, and then Mike practically pacing. “I just really need to see you.”
“Mike—”
“Please,” he interrupted. “I know it’s stupid. I know Steve will kill me if he finds out and my mom might ground me ‘till I’m thirty but I—I missed you. Like, a lot.”
You laughed softly. “Mike, you literally saw me yesterday.”
“Okay yeah, but not like this,” he said. “Not where I can actually talk to you, or just have you here…in my bed…with me.”
You hesitated, stifling a laugh from his words. “Are you suggesting I sneak over?”
“Yes,” he said immediately. “I mean—only if you want to. I’m not forcing you, I just—god, I sound desperate.”
“You are desperate,” you giggled.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I am.”
You bit your lip. “But Steve—”
“—is out,” Mike responded. “I checked. Like, twice. He isn’t even home, right? It should be safe for you to come.”
You blinked. “How do you even know that?”
“…I may have asked Dustin,” he said. “Casually. I totally wasn’t stalking your brother.”
You laughed again. “You’re unbelievable.”
“So is that a yes?” he asked hopefully.
“That was a ‘you’re lucky I like you’,” you said. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” You could hear him cheering through your walkie talkie.
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“I won’t,” he happily promised. “Besides I’m the fastest window opener in Hawkins, you’ll be in right away.”
By the time you reached the Wheelers house, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your heart rate racing.
You climbed up the pipes and stones until you were in front of his window. You lightly tapped the glass and it opened immediately.
“I told you,” Mike whispered, grinning. “Fastest window opener in Hawkins.”
“You’re ridiculous,” you whispered back as you climbed in.
He held onto your waist, steadying you so you wouldn’t fall. You could see his hands shake slightly as he let go once your feet hit the floor.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you softly said. “Are you though? You were a little shaky.”
“I wasn’t.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“…Okay maybe a little,” he admitted. “I just didn’t think you’d actually come.”
“You begged.”
“I asked,” he clarified.
“You begged.”
He sighed. “Okay fine, I begged.”
“So,” you whispered. “Was this worth risking our lives?”
He stepped closer. “Yeah, definitely.”
You sat down on the edge of his bed. “So, what was so important you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before he sat next to you. “Today has just been bad. Everyone was loud, and I kept thinking about stuff, and then thinking about you, and it just made it worse that I couldn’t talk to you.”
You nudged his knee with yours. “It’s okay, I’m here now.”
There was a moment of silence before he blurted out. “I hate keeping this a secret.”
You looked at him. “Yeah, me too.”
“It’s not that I’m embarrassed,” he rushed to explain. “I’m not. I just want to be able to hold you in front of everyone, and kiss you whenever I want without needing to worry if anyone’s watching. I want to tell our friends, and not freak out every time your brother looks at me.”
You smiled softly. “Steve always looks at you.”
“Exactly, it’s terrifying.”
You laughed, then leaned back on the bed. “Come here.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, Wheeler. You begged me to sneak through your window.”
He lay down beside you, careful at first, leaving space.
“Why are you so far?” you whispered.
He shifted closer.
“Closer.”
He finally relaxed, his shoulder brushing yours. “Thanks for coming,” he softly said.
“Yeah, of course,” you smiled, leaning in with Mike meeting you halfway.
Your lips touched, a slow deep press between the two of you. He responded instantly, his hands finding the curve of your back, and pulled you in close to him.
The kiss lingered as it became deeper and warmer. Mike’s mouth moved against yours with practiced ease, using all the techniques he knew you liked, like he’s learned how to get every small noise you make and pull them out one by one.
You sighed into his mouth, fingers tightening in his shirt. He groaned quietly at the sound.
“Fuck—” he murmured, slightly pulling back. “I missed this.”
You giggled, brushing your nose against his.
He kissed you again—longer this time. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you on top of him. His thumbs pressed into your sides, grounding and possessive in a way that makes your knees weak.
The kiss became indulged, unhurried. Your mouths were parting and reconnecting. There were little pauses that increased the anticipation for you two. You nipped gently at his lower lip, and the sound he makes goes straight through you.
Your hands roamed over his chest, his shoulders, his body. He’s warm beneath you, and every time you touched him—his breath hitched, grip tightened, and his body leaned into yours like he couldn’t get enough.
“God, do you know what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
You smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
You kissed along his jaw, down to his neck, just enough to make him tilt his head instinctively.
“Please don’t stop,” he softly begged.
You didn’t. You kissed him long and deep, the kind of kiss that made time blur. Your bodies fit together perfectly, years of knowing each other written in the touch.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing hard. Mike’s lips were swollen and pink from all the contact. His hair was a mess and his pupils were blown.
“Wow, I miss your lips already,” he said.
You laughed, your head ducking into the crook of his neck and shoulder.
When it was time for you to leave, Mike walked you to the window and helped you out. He whispered, “Same time tomorrow?”
“Only if you beg,” you grinned.
His eyes twinkled and he saluted you, letting you know he would.
desc: mike invites you to one of his garage concerts despite you being the school’s princess
genre/warnings: no vecna au, mutual pining, soft fluff, cute awkwardness
word count: 1.2k
a/n: WOOO HAPPY VOL 2 RELEASE DAY AND MERRY CHRISTMAS (if u celebrate)!! i’m soooo into loser!mike agenda also chrissy and eddie are alive in this oneshot
Everyone at Hawkins High knew you were basically untouchable. You were Chrissy’s younger sister which therefore made you another popular cheerleader at this school.
So when Max nearly choked on her soda when you casually mentioned, “Yeah, I’m coming to your band’s show tonight,” it’s understandable.
“You’re coming to our show?” she asked, looking at you in disbelief.
“Yeah, Mike invited me,” you shrugged, pretending your heart wasn’t pounding in your chest like crazy.
Robin perched on the counter, resting her chin on her hands, lit up immediately. “Oh my god, you’re coming? Suddenly, this has just become our biggest show yet.”
Next to her, Steve leaned over. “Do you even know where it is?”
You smiled sweetly. “I’m a cheerleader, Steve. I know everything.”
What you didn’t tell them was you’ve known Mike since sophomore year. Since you two got paired together in history class and he spent the whole time apologizing for existing too loudly. Since you noticed the way he pushes his hair out of his eyes whenever he got nervous. Since you realized he listens to your words with every ounce of attention.
You also didn’t mention how you don’t go out to parties as much as they thought.
Going to theirs is going to be like meeting him on his ground.
When you and Chrissy pulled up, there were around fifteen people—mostly from school. They were still setting up the instruments when you saw him.
Mike’s back was turned away from you.
He was wearing a red and white tee, and his guitar strap was slung over his shoulder. His hair was a mess but unintentionally perfect. He was talking to Dustin animatedly, his hands moving and laughing happily.
Then he turned, and saw you.
You swore you could see his brain short-circuit.
He froze, his fingers still on the guitar strings, his mouth was slightly opened as if he forgot how to speak. Dustin followed his gaze and grinned.
“Oh,” he said. “Ohhhh.”
“You—hi—what,” Mike cleared his throat, immediately flustered. “You came.”
You nodded, tucking loose strands of hair between your ears in a nervous fit. You noticed eyes flicking between him and you. “I said I would.”
“Yeah,” he said, blinking. “You did.”
Max and Robin were watching from the stage, and you could hear Robin whisper loudly, “I knew it.”
Mike stepped closer to you, lowering his voice. “You didn’t have to come, I know this isn’t really your type of crowd.”
“I wanted to,” you softly said.
You could tell that relaxed him a little bit, his shoulders that were previously tensed up had softened.
“Uh,” he gestured behind him before rubbing the back of his neck. “We aren’t very good, by the way.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled. “I like not very good.”
You stood near the front with Chrissy, Dustin, and Steve.
They start playing and they’re actually good. They weren’t polished or perfect but their sound was captivating. Max’s drumming was sharp, Eddie’s bass was thumping in your chest, Robins guitar was clean.
And Mike—
Mike was singing like there was no one watching. Sure, his voice cracked once and you could see him grimace but he kept pushing through.
He keeps glancing at you as if he couldn’t believe you were still there at his show.
You cheered louder than anyone in the crowd.
When the song ended, everyone erupted in cheer.
“ENCORE!”, “We want more!”, everyone was loving it.
Mike laughed breathlessly, his cheeks flushed with a rosy pink. After his set, he found you leaning against the wall.
“I didn’t think you’d stay,” he said.
“I told you, I like your band,” you teased.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “I thought you would get bored, or embarrassed.”
“Why would I be embarrassed?”
He shrugged. “I mean… you’re you.”
You raised your eyebrow and stepped closer. “And you’re you. Isn’t that the whole point?”
He softly chuckled. “Yeah true, thanks again for coming.”
You hesitated for half a second before leaning in—just a little bit.
Mike reacted a bit too late. His head tilted unsure and the first kiss barely landed, it was more a brush of lips rather than a kiss. You pulled back instinctively, surprised and he let out a short, embarrassed laugh.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No,” you said quickly. “It was—”
You cut yourself off and leaned in again, slower this time. Mike met you halfway and kissed you.
The kiss was still gentle and careful, but this time it fit better. His fingers lightly brushed the side of your arm before holding them to ground himself. When you finally pulled apart, the feeling of his lips lingered on yours and both your breaths were uneven.
He smiled wide. “I think I might write a song about this.”
“Please don’t,” you say rolling your eyes, but smiling anyways.
He laughed and squeezed your hand, as if he didn’t want to let go.
A week later, Mike was sitting in the bleachers with a nervous knot in his stomach. Steve was two rows up with Robin and they had a homemade sign. Dustin and Will bounced beside him, cheering on Lucas.
Mike barely noticed because you were there. On the court in your uniform.
The lights were brighter and the noise was louder, while it was familiar to his stage experience, it was still a different ground. Your ground.
He remembered the way you cheered for him, which made him stay as well. You didn’t notice him at first, but then when you did, you smiled at him. The smile was softer than your fake cheer, as if it was reserved for him only.
He lifted his hand in a small, awkward wave, heart pounding.
After that, you kept looking at him. Whether it was between cheers or jumps but no matter what, Mike’s gaze never left you.
At the halftime, you jogged over to him, breathless and flushed, the noise of the gym surrounding you two.
“You came,” you said.
“I said I would,” he echoed your words from the previous week back to you.
“Scared?”
“Terrified,” he said, with a grin. The buzzer sounded indicating halftime was over, but before you went back you pecked his cheek with a kiss.
You could see heat rising up his neck before you jogged away, a smile forming on your face.
After the game, you found yourself walking in the parking lot with him. He had given you his jacket, to keep you warm from the cool breeze.
“You know,” you said slowly. “I like how we keep showing up for each other.”
“Yeah, me too,” he softly agreed.
He grabbed your hand, and pulled you flush against him. He took your chin in his hand and leaned down, kissing you with more confidence than he had last time.
You could feel Mike’s pulse under your own as you deepened the kiss, pulling him closer by the back of his neck. He made a surprised noise, before reciprocating your movements.
When you pulled back, he smiled. “So… you’ll come to more shows?”
You grinned. “Only if you come to more games.”
“Deal.”
“C’mon guys! We’re getting ice cream!” Steve yelled from his car.
Mike offered his hand to you, in which you happily accepted and headed over to join your friends.
static between us mike wheeler x harrington!reader
*takes place during 5x4 ~ SPOILERS if u haven’t watched*
desc: mike comforts you in the wsqk after your brother, steve does something stupid
genre/warnings: slight angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, first kiss, not proof read
word count: 1.1k
a/n: hihi i was rewatching 5x4 today and i started thinking about when i wanted finn wolfhard sooo badly during s3 that i dreamt mike and i went to the mall and had a fun hangout LMFAOO anyways here’s a cute short oneshot of him comforting you
The radio was silent, it had been for a while now.
It sat on the desk, untouched, the red light glowing faintly. You huffed out a laugh at the memory of the other night when you were in the van with Steve, Dustin, and Jonathan. Joyce had called wondering about the “flux capacitor” and the look on all of their faces made you laugh.
You were supposed to be with them tonight. But of course Steve had to go all “over protective older brother” mode and forbid you from tagging along. It’s as if he already made up his mind.
He knew he was going to the Upside Down and left you in Hawkins.
Every time the radio crackled or made a noise, your body flinched and your neck turned in hope.
You kept telling yourself Steve knew what he was doing, he’s done worse before. But no matter how many times you repeated it in your head, you couldn’t get rid of the thoughts of worry.
You sat curled on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at nothing.
The plan to get Derek into the barracks as well as sneaking the kids out had been made and now the wait for Murray began. Everyone had left the room, trying to occupy themselves while they waited for the delivery and Derek’s message.
You couldn’t. Not with your brother in the Upside Down with no way to communicate with him.
The door creaked open. You didn’t look up.
“Hey,” Mike said quietly.
He stopped a few steps away, as if he was unsure what was considered too close. Then he sat down next to you on the couch, close enough where your shoulders brushed if one of you moved slightly.
“They still haven’t checked in yet,” he said softly.
Your throat tightened. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been waiting here, praying just for any sort of signal but nothing.”
You pressed your face into your sleeve, but that didn’t stop the tears from coming. They came fast, the dam finally breaking. Your eyes blurred and the room felt like it was tilting.
Mike noticed immediately.
“Hey, hey,” he murmured, turning toward you. “It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“I know,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I just—it’s been too long, Mike.”
His hand hovered for a moment before he gently placed it on your arm.
“You know how it is down there, it’s hard to get a signal,” he said. “But he’s with Nancy and the crew, they’re strong together.”
Oh my god how could you be so stupid. Crying about Steve to Mike when his sister is down there too.
“Mike, I’m so sorry. I’m over here crying and you’re comforting me while both your sisters are also M.I.A.”
“It’s okay, really don’t worry,” he assured you with a smile. “I wanna focus on you right now.”
You gave back a small smile, before sighing. “He didn’t even tell me he was going to do it. Most likely, it was a heat of moment idea but there’s still thought you have to put in beforehand.. you know? It was like he decided he’s the one who’s getting hurt.”
Mike exhaled slowly. “Steve’s really bad at thinking he deserves to be safe.”
You let out a shaky laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Mike’s fingers tightened around your arm slightly, his touch grounding you.
“But he cares,” Mike added. “It’s how he keeps going.”
“And what if caring gets him killed?”
The words hung between you guys, heavy and terrifying. Mike went silent for a bit. You hated that more than fake reassurance.
“Then, we’ll go through it. Together. But I don’t think that’s how this ends,” he said.
You finally turned towards him. “How can you be so sure?”
He hesitated—then reached for your hand.
His fingers brushed yours, tentative at first. But then he intertwined them, gripping tight like he was the only solid thing left.
“I don’t know if I’m being honest,” he admitted. “I’m just choosing hope, and I’m also choosing you.”
Your chest ached.
“I don’t know how to do this, Mike,” you whispered. “All this… waiting.”
He shifted closer, his knee now bumping along yours.
“Then, don’t do it alone. Let me stay.”
You nodded, leaning into him. His arm came around you, pulling you into his chest as if it was natural for him.
“I’m so scared,” you confessed.
“So am I,” he murmured. “About Nance, Holly, Steve, everyone. About all of this.”
He paused, then added softly. “About you too.”
You pulled back just enough to look at him.
His hand came up to your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.
“I can’t promise everything will be okay,” he said. “But I can promise you, I’m not going anywhere. Vecna can kiss my ass, he’s got nothing on me.”
You giggled at the last sentence, before becoming hyper aware how close the two of you were. How his breath hitched when you leaned in ever so slightly.
“I probably shouldn’t,” he started, then stopped.
“Probably shouldn’t what?” you asked.
“Do this.”
He leaned in slightly, giving you time to pull away.
You didn’t.
The kiss was soft, hesitant and sweet. It was as if you were both trying not to break something very fragile. But when you sighed into it, when your fingers curled into his jacket, he went in fully.
It was so warm and comforting. Just for a moment, the fear loosened it’s grip on you.
When you pulled apart, your foreheads rested together.
“That helped,” you whispered.
Mike laughed quietly. “Yeah, I agree.”
The radio was still silent, but the silence wasn’t as suffocating as before.
You looked at him, his dark brown eyes finding yours and giving you a wash of warmth. You both leaned in, about to kiss again until the door swung open.
“OKAY—WOW.”
Robin’s voice boomed through the room.
“WE SAID COMFORT HER, NOT KISS HER!”
You and Mike jumped apart, then immediately burst into laughter.
Will stood behind Robin, arms crossed, attempting—and failing to hide his smile.
“I told you this would happen,” Will said.
Mike rubbed the back of his neck, grinning. “In my defence, she leaned in first.”
You gasped. “MIKE! Don’t even, it was literally you.”
Robin smirked. “Steve is going to lose his mind once he comes back.”
You laughed, the sound lighter than it had been for the past few hours.
While you were still waiting for a response from the radio, at least you weren’t facing it alone. And honestly, it was worth it getting yelled at by Robin.
desc: you've always had a thing for nerds—you adored the way they got passionate over their interests. so when mike wheeler befriends you in one of your university courses, you can't help but enjoy it.
genre/warnings: friends to lovers trope, modern au, university au, miscommunication, slight jealous!reader, fluff
word count: 1.1k
a/n: wow im busting out these oneshots like there's no tomorrow. anyways i looooove nerds esp movie/film nerds so why not combine my fav stranger things character with my type heh
Mike Wheeler became your friend because he wouldn't shut up about film.
it started in your first year of university during your elective course, Intro to Film Studies when he sat next you. He had leaned over and whispered, "If anyone says Neil and Todd weren't in love in Dead Poet's Society, they're crazy."
You whispered back. "No yeah, they definitely were in love."
"We're gonna be good friends, I can feel it," he said with a smile.
A couple weeks went by and the two of you were inseparable.
Mike was honestly the biggest nerd you ever met. He talked about his favourite directors as if they were best friends, and annotated screenplays until all you saw was his messy but neat handwriting. He owned a beat up Pulp Fiction poster and claimed the creases, as well as the faded dye added character.
He loved dragging you to movie nights your university held, shushing those around him with a little intensity. Honestly, the way you acted with him slowly made you his favourite audience.
Whenever you guys watched movies together on his old laptop, he would pause the movie to explain film logistics but immediately apologize after. For example, one time you two were watching Saltburn and he paused to explain the rule of thirds to you.
You liked to sit in dorm, either on his bed or floor, in the latest of hours while he edited his short film. You offered commentary whenever he asked and you could tell it was helping him get through the process.
Mike was one of the sweetest guys you’ve met at school. He remembered your coffee order after your first hang out after class. If you ever fell asleep on his shoulder during movie nights in his dorm, he would never move—just shift slightly so you were in a comfortable position.
The problem was: the two of you never mentioned anything. Never brought up how the lines between friends and something more were blurring together.
It was a rainy night and another editing session when Mike mentioned Jane while he was going through his new footage.
“Jane helped me block this scene,” he said. “She’s really good when it comes to visual cues.”
“Oh,” you carefully said, wrapping the blanket you had around yourself tighter. “I didn’t know you guys were friends, or worked together.”
Mike hummed, clear distraction in his voice. “Yeah, only sometimes, we grew up together in the same—” he paused, his brain finally registering the way you spoke. “Hey, you okay?”
“Mhm,” you said with a hint of fake happiness.
He looked at you for a second, studying you before he said. “It’s nothing really, I promise.”
You guys had moved on from it, resuming editing as if nothing ever happened. You didn’t bring it up again, you told yourself you were being stupid for caring this much.
Meanwhile, Mike started acting different. While he was normally attentive, he started to care more. He watched you more than he watched the movie screen. He asked for your opinion as if it was the only thing that mattered. He began to get flustered whenever you teased him, stuttering in a way he never did before.
You assumed it was stress and never put in a thought about it.
A couple months passed and the day of Mikes short film premiere arrived. He was so nervous to show it but you kept reassuring him everything was perfect. Although, you weren’t sure if that was true considering he stopped asking you for your opinion a few weeks after the Jane incident.
You thought it was strange considering Mike always valued your input but he promised you it was just a director choice and nothing personal.
The room was packed with university students, everyone buzzing with excitement. You were sitting in the second row, Mike next to you. His leg bounced in a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“Don’t freak out,” he whispered.
Don’t freak out—what an odd thing to say.
“It’s rough,” he added, his hands fidgeting in his lap.
Oh. “You’ll survive,” you whispered back.
The lights dimmed and the movie flickered onto the projector screen.
As the film began to play, you noticed something unusual. The main girl didn’t look like you but her mannerisms were the exact same. She listened the way you did, and tilted her head the same way you would whenever you were thinking. There was a scene in the film where she sat on the bed wrapped in a blanket giving commentary while the boy edited footage.
Your heart started to race. Mike based his movie off you two. Of you. By the time the end credits rolled, your chest was too tight to breathe.
After Mike thanked everyone for the support and receive a round of applause, people crowded around him—showering him with praise, compliments, questions.
You hung back until the noise died down and everyone left.
When you two made eye contact, his smile faltered a bit.
“Hey,” he said. “Can we—can we talk?”
You nodded. Mike shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth before saying—
“So… you saw it.”
“I did.”
A beat passed. You thought to yourself: I might as well rip the bandaid.
“You based her on me,” you confronted.
He exhaled. “Yeah.”
“I thought you were into Jane this whole time,” you softly say.
Confusion crossed his face, before it was replaced by guilt. “No, god no. Jane was just—she’s just a part of my childhood. You were—” he swallowed. “You were the reason I started making things. You made me feel seen.”
Silence hummed between you.
“I never meant to brush it off that night,” he confessed. “If I made you feel like you didn’t matter—”
You cut him off. “You didn’t. I just never asked more.”
Mike stepped closer. “I wish you had.”
“You wrote a movie based off me instead,” you laughed shakily.
“Yeah,” he said, his lopsided smile forming on his face. “Subtle, I know.”
His hand reached out for yours, hovering for a second as if he was waiting for a cue. When your fingers threaded with his, he let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ve been in love with you ever since I mentioned Anderperry in class and you agreed,” he said. “I just never knew how to say it out loud.”
You giggled reminiscing your first exchange, squeezing his hand. “God, you were such a dorky idiot.”
He softly laughed. “Yeah but I was your dorky idiot.”
A few weeks later, Mike submitted the film to local theatres in hopes to make it big. Everything was the same except he added something for you.
A small dedication at the end saying:
For the one who always stayed.
And you did, and will continue to do so every time.
desc: it’s the first fall of snow in hawkins and your friends want to make the most out of it, starting from a snowball fight and ending with a movie along with gingerbread cookies
genre/warnings: the use of snowball and snow is lowkey used A LOTTT sorry, fluff, physical touch activities
word count: 1.3k
a/n: HI GUYS im so sorry ive been m.i.a, i recently started my 1b uni term so im a little busy but woooo winter oneshot winter oneshot winter onshot!!
You were never fond of the winter.
You preferred basking in the sun beside the pool with Max and El, or bugging Steve for free ice cream despite him not working there anymore.
You hated constantly shivering in the cold air, or fighting the party for the thickest, warmest blanket.
Yet here you were, throwing snowballs with your friends and laughing even though your hands were freezing.
It all started when you were in the midst of putting on your snow boots and Dustin came knocking on your door.
“COME ON! SNOWBALL FIGHT RIGHT NOW!”
“Hi to you too!” you yelled through the door, quickly fastening your laces before following him out to the street.
The streets were chaos. There was snow flying everywhere, shouts were being yelled, and honestly you were starting to get excited.
“Shit shit shit!” you heard Lucas yell, your head turned toward the sound to see him backing up to Mike while Max and El laughed walking towards him with a snowball in each of their hands.
Dustin ran over to Will and they began to mold snowballs while whispering a plan to each other. They looked at the other two boys who were starting to retaliate and nodded. All of a sudden, the four of them started chasing after the two girls. They screamed and ran towards you, using you as a shield.
“Help us!” Max said, excitement and fear in her voice.
“Guys, we’re gonna kick their asses,” you replied, already starting to pick up some snow.
The real fight began. You were throwing snowballs like your life depended on it. Snow was hitting your jacket and soaking your mitts but you didn’t care.
The seven of you had decided to split into teams, boys vs. girls. Although, none of you guys were keeping score.
You were too busy laughing as your teammates tried to overthrow the boys to notice Mike sneak up behind you.
WHAM! A snowball hits you right in the back. You whipped around and found Mike standing there, his nose and cheeks a rosy pink with a wide grin on his face.
“MIKE!” you yelled.
He held his hands up in defence. “What? It wasn’t that hard.”
Instead of responding, you picked up snow and tightly packed it in into a snowball.
The fight erupted instantly. What once was considered chaotic before got extremely worse. Snowballs were flying in every direction, in hopes of getting a hit. At this point the teams were gone, it was every man for themselves. You ducked behind a parked car, mentally apologizing to whoever’s it was, and you laughed as a snowball narrowly missed your head. You scooped up some snow, packed it, and popped up just long enough to throw.
Boom. Direct hit.
Mike stumbled back dramatically, placing his hands where you hit him. “Oh my god, that one hurt.”
“Liar!” you laughed.
He charged at you, and you squealed, taking off down the street as he chased you, boots slipping in the slushy snow. You barely made it to the trees before he caught up with you, grabbing your wrist.
“Got you!” he said, breathless.
You turned around, still laughing, snow crunching under your boots. “You wish.”
You tugged your wrist free but he doesn’t move away. Suddenly, Mike is close to you, closer than usual. He was so close you could notice all the little details, the snow in his eyelashes, the dampness of his hair, the way his breath fogged in the coldness.
Mike’s smile softened and his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes.
You felt your heart start to race. And slowly, he leaned in. Just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat.
But then—you felt cold flood down your jacket.
You shrieked, jumping back as icy snow slides down your back. Mike was laughing so hard, he was bent over clutching his stomach.
“I’m sorry—I saw the opportunity and had to take it!”
“You are dead,” you declared, shoving snow at him. “It is so on, Wheeler.”
You tackled him into the snow, both of you tumbled down in a mess of limbs and laughter. He landed on his back with you on top of him, both of you gasping for air.
“Truce?” he asked.
“In your dreams,” you squinted. You dumped a handful of snow on his chest, making sure you got some on his skin he forgot to cover up.
He groaned. “You’re evil.”
“Payback,” you shot back.
The rest of the party eventually found you guys, still tangled in the snow but no longer fighting.
“Get a room, guys,” Dustin said, mockingly rolling his eyes.
Both you and Mike yelled at the same time. “SHUT UP!”
Eventually, the party collectively decided to take a break as the snow began to fall heavily. By the time everyone ended up at Mike’s house, the streets were filled with snow. There was so much that it looked like a snow globe.
The state the house was in after everyone got in was a mess. Boots were kicked in piles near the front door, small bits of snow scattered in, and coats along with accessories were draped along chairs. The smell of hot chocolate wafted around the house, coming from the kitchen where Mrs. Wheeler was pouring it into mugs.
After heading down to the basement, chatter started happening all around. Lucas claimed the biggest cup before anyone else could grab it, Dustin and El were fighting over the marshmallow bag and Max was trying to convince a stubborn Will that the girls won the fight.
You curled up on the couch, tugging your sleeves higher on your hands. You were still cold from the outdoors, even though you had been inside for a while.
Mike dropped down next to you, and glanced your way. “Still freezing?”
You nodded. “You did dump snow down my jacket, Wheeler.”
“All in the game,” he said, attempting to sound strategic.
Without hesitation, Mike grabbed one of the warmer blankets from behind the couch and draped it over the two of you.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “Thanks.”
The others were so into their own bubbles that they didn’t notice how Mike’s foot kept bumping into yours or the fact you two were closer than you needed to be.
“We should go sledding,” Dustin suggested.
“No,” Max immediately objected. “We just got warmed back up after the cold.”
Yet somehow, you were all back outside standing in front of Mike’s garage. The guys pulled out a few old sleds and you all trekked up the hill near his place.
It was decided to go two at a time. Dustin and Will went first, screaming the whole way down. Lucas and Max followed after. When it was your turn, you looked at Mike.
You sat at the front of the sled, and Mike settled awkwardly behind you. His hands were hesitating like he wasn’t sure where he could put them.
“You’re gonna have to hold on,” you said.
“Right—yeah,” he stammered, placing his hands lightly on your sides.
You felt one hand leave your hip, and suddenly the sled was moving forward, the hand coming back to your side.
You both screamed as the sled went down the hill, laughter filling the night. As you two reached the bottom, you were both out of breath and covered in snow.
“That was—” Mike started.
“Terrifying?” you suggested.
“Awesome,” he finished with a grin.
Later when everyone was exhausted, you ended up sitting on the steps of Mike’s front porch, watching the snow fall down peacefully.
Mike sat down next to you and nudged your shoulder. “Today was fun.”
“Yeah,” you softly agreed.
He glanced at you and looked away. His cheeks were pink, but not mainly from the cold.
You smiled to yourself, before letting your head fall into his shoulders. You felt him tense for a second before he relaxed and laid his head on top of yours.
When Mrs. Wheeler called the two of you inside to get warmth and Mike offered his hand, you happily took it.
desc: when your moms met in sussex, they promised each other they would make sure their kids were best friends. hence why you and james have grown up down at the beach every summer since you were kids. it’s always been you two—whether it’s suntans, sunburns, saltwater and maybe now, something more.
or… what if the surfing incident in the summer i turned pretty was with james potter.
genre/warnings: soft romance, fluff, hurt/comfort, childhood friends to lovers, praise, making out, mentions of blood/injuries
word count: 1.3k
a/n: hi guys!! i hope u enjoy— this one shot is actually so special to me i love her sm FIRST TUMBLR POST YAYAY!!!!
You’ve known James Potter for as long as you can remember. Ever since you were five, your families have come down to Sussex for the summer, staying in two old beach houses side by side. The memory of the peeling paint and sand always in the hallways filled you with a bliss you couldn’t explain. Your mothers met on that beach when they were young adults and never stopped talking since. Every summer after that it was a given: the Potters next door.
You and James grew up in the seasalt and sunscreen filled air—always having sandcastle competitions, racing on the boardwalk, sharing ice cream and secret jokes through the crack in the fence between your houses. Somewhere along the way, throughout the years, the line blurred between friend and something else. Both of you noticed, but neither of you dared to speak on it.
Now you’re both older, heading into your second year of university—but despite it all, laughter is still spilling through the open windows. The same beach, same houses, yet everything feels slightly different than usual. His smile lingers, and so do his eyes.
The house is unusually quiet.
You’re in James’ house that day, helping Effie prepare dinner while she was out buying more ingredients. Most of the group had gone along with her, each having their own errands they needed to run, leaving you and James behind. You softly hum under your breath in the kitchen, your hair tied messily into a knot as you dice the carrots into small cubes. The golden glow of the sun peeks through the windows, painting the air warm yellow.
It feels strange when the house is quiet.
You’re used to being surrounded by chaos—laughter echoing from the porches, your brother terribly playing guitar, yours or James’ mom calling everyone for fresh lemonade. Being in the quiet felt like the air was holding its breath.
James had been around earlier, his board tucked under his arms.
“Waves are in perfect condition right now. I’ll be back in an hour or two,” he said, flashing that grin that always made your stomach flutter a little too much.
You lifted your knife in mock warning. “Don’t drown, Potter.”
He winked. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Your heart hammered a little at the way he winked at you but you shook the feeling away, watching him make his way down the beach. You tred to ignore the way your eyes ran down his back, tracing the muscles he seemed to gain from all the years of surfing. You sighed, before returning your attention back to the food in front of you.
Now, an hour later, the back door creaks open. The floorboards groaning as pressure is placed on them.
“You survive out there?” you call, not looking up from the pot you had boiling on the stove.
“Yeah,” comes his voice—easy, but thinner than usual. “Just had a small wipeout.”
You smile faintly. “About time the ocean humbled you.”
No reply. Just uneven steps on the stairs, as if someone was hobbling. A faint stumble sound caught your ears.
“James?”
Silence. Worry fills your stomach, forcing you to set the knife down and step into the hall. Dark spots glisten on the wooden floor, leading up to the stairway. Blood.
“James!”
The bathroom door is half open when you make it upstairs. He’s sitting on the edge of the tub, his board shorts damp and bunched up higher on his thigh, allowing him to press a towel to the wound.
He looks up like he’s been caught. “Hey.”
“Oh my god, James.” You rush in, heading towards the sink cabinets. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”
He shrugs, trying to play it off. “Didn’t want to make a fuss.”
“Too late.” You grab the first-aid kit, and head to the tub, positioning yourself in front of him. “You’re bleeding all over the place.”
He gives a small, shaky laugh. “You sound like my mum.”
You arch an eyebrow. “Good. Hopefully she’ll possess me long enough to keep you alive.
Despite being in pain, he still gives you his usual smirk. “You always did boss me around.”
“Sit still,” you say, your voice going soft. “Let me help you.”
He nods.
The gash is worse than you expect—a deep, angry red line along his thigh. You snap the kit open, pulling on gloves and preparing the items you need.
“Okay,” you murmur, steadying yourself. You look up, meeting his eyes. “This is going to sting.”
He gives you a faint, strained smile. “Don’t go easy on me.”
You press the antiseptic to the wound. He flinches violently, head dropping forward until his forehead is resting on your shoulder.
“Shit—fuck—” His voice breaking out into a whimper.
You steady him with your free hand, whispering, “Breathe, Jamie. Take a deep breath. You’re doing so good.”
He lets out a shaky laugh, muffled against you. “For all my surfing experience, you’d think I would have gotten used to it by now.”
“You aren’t supposed to get used to pain,” you reply, focusing on cleaning carefully. He hissed again, his grip so strong on the edge of the tub, his knuckles were turning white.
“Almost done,” you murmur. “Just a little more. Stay with me.”
Then it slips.
“Fuck, baby, this hurts really bad,” he groans, his voice low and raw. The word hangs between the two of you—baby—unintentional, full of meaning. His head moves on your shoulder, as if he’s trying to make himself more comfortable, his curls damp against your skin.
You freeze for a half second, then forcing yourself to continue, your heart pounding against your chest.
“You’re okay,” you whisper, throat tight. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
By the time you tape the bandage snugly in place, James was trembling with the effort of holding still. His forehead was still on your shoulder, his breath warm against your collarbone.
You smooth the edge of the tape gently, your fingers brushing his skin. “All done.”
You wait for one of you to eventually move, but neither of you do. His leg was warm under your touch from the adrenaline pumping through him, his chest heaving, catching his breath. You can hear the waves crashing outside, faint through the open bathroom window.
“You scared me,” you admit quietly.
He looks up, meeting your gaze. His eyes were glassy, vulnerable, stripped bare. “I promise you, I didn’t mean to. Guess I thought I was tougher than I actually am.”
“You’ve never been good at admitting when you’re not.”
“Maybe I’m learning.”
There’s a pause—and then, barely above a whisper, “Are you just going to pretend like you don’t feel it?”
Your breath hitches. “Feel what?”
He swallows, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips. “This.”
He leans in, his mouth on yours. At first, it was soft, hesitant but the second you kiss him back, it unravels into something deeper.
He makes a low sound, almost a groan, and tilts your chin up with one hand, angling you for better access. Your hands leave his thigh, sliding their way up to his damp hair. You lightly tug onto his curls, in which he responds by kissing you deeper.
The kiss was filled with heat and desperation, filled with pent up emotion you two had been keeping in the past few summers. You were both riding on cloud nine, soaking up every second of your lips together, your hands roaming each other’s body.
His lips moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath away. You gasp softly, and James uses that moment as an opportunity to lick into your mouth. His tongue sliding againt yours in a messy, slick rhythm. You moan into him without meaning to, the sound coming out muffled, and you feel James shudder under your touch. His hands cradle your face as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.
You tug at his curls again, earning another low, raw groan from him. He nips at your lip before immediately soothing it with his tongue. Your mouths were battling, teeth bashing together, lips bruising until you were both dizzy. Dizzy from one another.
When you two finally break apart, gasping, foreheads pressing together, James lets out a soft chuckle.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.
You laugh, recovering from the high. “Next time, try not to bleed all over the place.”
He grins, the same boyish one you’ve known your whole life. The one you’ve fallen in love with. “Deal.”
For a moment, it feels like every summer before this one—but now, in the bathroom, the air filled with the scent of saltwater and antiseptic, they knew it wasn’t. Something between them shifted, finally something more.
desc: he ate your heart and you let him— you were warned about him being a monster (in bed?) yet you still followed him after the party.
or… "monster" by lady gaga x james potter
genre/warnings: smut mDNI, unprotected sex, p in da v, oral (f! receiving), masturbation, praise, dirty talk, fingering, dark!james (he’s not really dark tbh but just in case)
word count: 2.6k
a/n: this is my first ever time writing smut so i'm so sorry if the pacing or anything is bad but i was listening to "monster" by lady gaga and i was like wow i NEED this with james so bad so i sat myself down and forced myself to write and ykw #noregrets
October 31st, the day of Halloween. The city pulses with the holiday’s haunting energy—streets glowing lights, smoke curling from cigarettes, every club and bar blasting songs. You hadn’t planned on going out tonight. You told yourself you’d stay home, watch a scary movie in your apartment. But here you are, drawn into the chaos of your mutual friend’s house party, located in the lesser known of the city, where shadows twisted around and everything feels dangerous.
You’re taking a sip out of your cup near the speaker while your eyes skimmed the crowd over the rim, and then you see him. James Potter.
He leans against the wall across the room, sharing a cigarette with Sirius. His brown leather jacket is slung over his broad shoulders, his mask dangling from one hand. Even in the heavy crowds, he commands attention—not just because he’s attractive, but because of the way he moves. It makes your pulse jump, creates a warm bloom in your chest, it entices you. He’s dangerous yet so, very so, magnetic.
Someone near you follows your gaze, taking in the sight of James with you. They whisper to you: “He’s trouble.” but you already know. Your body remembers from the last time before your mind does. That boy’s a monster. Always has been and forever will be.
His eyes find yours across the room. A smile slowly creeps onto his face. It cuts through the bodies of people and through you. You feel your stomach twist in a way you don’t want to admit to outloud.
Before you can even think, he’s next to you. Close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. He smells like smoke, leather, and it’s so intoxicating, you could get high off the scent of him.
"You shouldn’t have come alone,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. If you listen close enough, you can also hear a hint of predatory in his tone.
You look up at him with doe, flirtatiously innocent eyes. With the shake of your head and a small smile, you lie, “I didn’t.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t see anyone with you,” he cocks his head slightly to the right, looking down at you with a gaze that makes you wet.
“Oh, must be your lucky moment then,” you shrug, taking the cigarette from his fingers and inhaling a puff. You blow the smoke in his face, enjoying the way his eyes darken as if he’s trying to memorize every part of you.
“Hm. I like it, just you and me,” he says, brushing his fingers against yours. It shoots sparks up your arm and through your body.
You allow him to pull you towards the dance floor, your fingers lazily laced together. The music shifts—slow, seductive, and dark. The music thrums in your bones, possessing you to act in a way you rarely do. You close your eyes, allowing your body to fully let go, and when you open them, you find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands find your waist guiding you to a slow movement. Your hips go side to side, your neck falls back following the sway of your body, and James, oh he’s loving every second of it.
Your bodies are softly grinding against one another, a sly smirk forming on your face as you feel him growing hard against you. You look at him with a suggestive gaze, and he leans in closer, his amber eyes glinting despite the dark atmosphere.
You whisper under your breath, horrified and exhilarated, “You’re such a monster.”
“And yet,” he murmurs, leaning down and bringing his mouth to your ear, “you can’t resist me.”
You want to tell him to stop, to protect yourself, but the truth is screaming in your veins. He has you. Always has. You’re his and he knows it.
When he kisses you, it consumes you whole. It tastes like fire, smoke, and danger all in one. You can feel it in your chest—like he has ripped your ribs open and held your heart in his hands. He ate your heart. He ate your heart out, and you don’t want it back. You pull him in closer, pulling out a soft groan from his lips, his hands travelling up and down your hips.
He pulls back slightly, “You can’t run from me, love. Not tonight, not ever.”
A shiver runs through your body—not from fear, but from desire. He is the monster everyone warned you about, the one you told yourself to avoid. And yet, under the flow of the party lights, with your bodies pressed together, you want him to be.
“I’ll follow,” you whisper.
He smiles, wicked and triumphant, and draws you away from the dance floor. The music pulses around you, but you can’t hear it. All you can hear is his heartbeat, fast and alive, falling in sync with yours.
James leads you away from the chaos of the apartment, and into the quiet hum of the city at night. The party slowly fades behind you with every step you take. Sometimes, while the two of you are walking, he’ll walk a little closer to you, shooting glances your way making your stomach twist with delight and terror. Every nerve in your body is lit, keeping you buzzing with need.
He pauses in front of a black door, and opens it to reveal his dim apartment. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights, allowing the moon to illuminate the room. His place smells like wood and smoke, and something uniquely him. You inhale, allowing the scent to fill your nostrils, locking it into your memory.
“Stay close,” he says, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind you. You listen and stay, because you’re already caught by him. Wrapped in invisible chains he’s spun around your heart.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” he asks, voice soft but laced with hunger. “You’ve let me in, given me this vulnerability.”
You swallow hard. “I can’t resist you..”
“Of course you can’t.” He leans in, almost closing the distance between you two.
Every inch of you screams, a temptation flowing through your body. The way he touches you, whispers your name, it’s so delicious, something you crave.
“I’ve been patient, you know,” he says, against your lips. “But tonight, tonight I want all of you. Heart, breath, soul, everything… but you already know that, don't you?”
“Yes,” you whisper back, barely able to breathe. “I want it. I want you.”
His eyes darken at your response. “You’re mine,” he says softly, almost a growl. “Completely, even if I’m a monster. Even if I destroy you—”
You tilt your face up to his, brushing your lips against his, cutting him off. “Then I’ll let you.”
That does it for James. A groan escapes his lips as he surges forward, kissing you hard. You moan into him, your hands finding the back of his head. He slowly walks you backwards, leading you towards his bedroom without breaking the kiss. He doesn’t stop until you find yourself falling back, hitting the soft mattress. You sit up on the edge of his bed, gazing up at him, your lips swollen and plump. He looks down at you as he slowly undoes his shirt.
You press your legs together as you wait in anticipation. A smirk tugs at his face as he sees the way you’re quivering waiting for his touch.
“Go on, touch yourself for me, love. I want to see the effect I have on you,” he nods, using his knee to nudge yours slightly apart.
His request catches you off guard, but it turns you on. Your hand shakily slides under your dress, past your underwear, and toward your folds, slipping your middle finger inside yourself. You gasp at the intrusion, slowly pumping it in and out.
“Oh fuck,” you softly moan out as you insert a second finger, picking up the pace. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing you to fully indulge in the pleasure you feel from your own doing.
“Fuck, I can’t take this anymore.” You hear from him. You open your eyes to a shirtless James slowly leaning over you, pushing you down so your back is flat against the bed.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” he says, capturing your lips into a wet kiss. His tongue dances with yours, before abandoning your mouth. He begins kissing your neck, making sure to leave marks behind. The feeling of his mouth on your body, his teeth scraping the sensitive parts of your skin has you arching your back.
“James—” you moan out, one hand gripping the duvet and the other above your head.
“You’re so perfect,” he mutters against your skin. He makes his way down, pushing your dress up so it's bunched at your waist while kissing the inner parts of your thighs. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling it down your legs and throwing it somewhere behind him.
“You’re so wet for me, love,” he says, as he drags the tip of his finger up and down your folds, enjoying the way you’re trembling under his touch.
“P-please,” you whimper.
“Please what? Use your words, baby.”
“Please touch me, James,” you whine out, chest already heaving from how bad you want him.
He grins at the request, bringing his mouth to your cunt. His tongue drags through your slit, licking up your slick.
A pleasured moan slips from your lips at the feeling of his wet mouth on you. His tongue flicks over your clit, causing you to buck your hips. Without removing his mouth from your cunt, he pulls both your legs over his shoulders.
“Fuck, you taste so good, so sweet,” he groans, his voice muffled against you.
He laps at you steadily, alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks of his tongue, mapping out every sensitive spot of yours. James focuses his attention on your clit, circling and sucking the sensitive bud until you’re writhing and gasping his name.
One finger joins his mouth, slowly pumping in and out of your tight channel as he works you higher. He hits those special spots, curling his finger just right, stroking you in a way that has stars forming behind your eyelids. He groans in bliss as your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him firmly against your weeping sex.
“That’s it, let me hear those pretty sounds,” James coaxes, the slight pain from his head only causes him to double his efforts, enjoying the way he can make you tremble and tense.
“Fuck, Jamie m-more, please,” you manage to plea out, pushing his head in need.
James growls in approval at your wanton plea, he spurs on by your desperation. He adds a second finger alongside the first, pumping them faster and harder as his tongue works over your aching clit. The wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of your soaking cunt filled the room, mixed with the sound of your moans getting louder and louder.
“Yes, that’s what I like to hear,” he pants against you, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure you felt. “I’m gonna make you come so hard for me, fill this pretty pussy with my fingers until you're dripping.”
“James— I’m going to—”
“That’s it, come for me, love. Want to feel this cunt squeeze my fingers as you fall apart,” he commands, his words vibrating against your oversensitized skin. He could feel you tightening, fluttering against his fingers as your climax approached.
James groans in satisfaction as your orgasm crashes over you, loving the way your walls clamp around his fingers. He gentles his movements, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks and lapping at your flesh to prolong the pleasure.
“That’s it, baby, let it all go,” he coos encouragingly, his voice muffled against your quivering body. “You did so well, came so beautifully for me. Such a good girl.”
As the last waves of your climax happened, James slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth.
“So sweet,” he purrs, crawling up your body to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan, kissing him back with heat and intensity. Breaking away with a gasp, he trails his lips along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your pulse points.
“God, you’re amazing,” he groans, his hips rocking against your thigh as his straining erection sought for friction. “I need to be inside you, need to feel your warmth wrapped around me.”
James reaches down to fumble with the fastening of his pants, shoving them down just enough to free his aching cock.
He looks at you, scanning your eyes to make sure you’re ready. When he sees you nod, he positions himself at your entrance. With a slow, but powerful, thrust, he allows himself to become enveloped inside your welcoming heat, groaning long and low at the sensation.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he breathes out, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “So tight, so perfect around me.”
He set a steady rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out before driving back in. As his thrusts went on, his pace would also vary. Sometimes slow and deep, other times quick and shallow, keeping you guessing and desperate for more. All while raining kisses and praises upon you, leaning down and whispering into your ear, telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you felt, how much he loves being inside you.
“Oh my god,” you pant out, your nails scratching his back as he fucks you, slow and deep. James hisses in pleasure mixed with pain as your nails rake his back, the sting heightening his arousal. Your cries of ecstasy fills the room as he increases his pace pounding into you.
“Yes! Let me hear you, baby,” he groans out, angling his hips to hit that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “I love feeling you come undone.”
One hand slid between your sweat-slicked bodies to find your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub with each thrust. He could feel his own release building rapidly.
“You’re mine,” he possessively says, his voice rough with strain.
“I’m yours James, all yours,” you breathily say in between moans.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come, love.”
He could feel you tightening around him again, signalling your second orgasm arriving. Knowing you were close with him, he began thrusting harder and faster, increasing the pressure on your clit.
“Come for me again,” he urges, his own control slipping rapidly. “I want you to milk my cock as I fill you up.”
His words push you over the edge, your back arching off the bed as you come around his cock. James groans, pulling out and pumping his cock, watching as his cum spills onto your thighs and his covers.
You watch him, catching your breath, as he moans your name while he strokes himself. He climbs up the bed, laying down next to you, propping his head up with one hand. You prop up onto your elbows, leaning over to fix his glasses which happened to slide down his nose during your moment.
“I knew you were a monster but wow,” you laugh out, ur chest heaving.
“Yeah, in bed,” he winks, before leaning over and capturing your lips into a kiss.
