Stranger Things X Older Brother Figure! Rich! Reader

stranger things x older brother figure! rich! reader

a/n: to celebrate stranger things s4 vol 2 coming out today in a few hours, i’ve decided to give us all masc aligned people a treat before shit goes down, enjoy.

cw: contains some scenes from the series (not enough to spoil), mentioned homophobia & fragile masculinity, bullying scenario, messy cuz i just put whatever random shit pops up to my mind and im also writing this at 1:30 am, NOT PROOFREAD!!

depending on your personality, it’s either the group would see you as the “cool” brother like in the movies or the “annoying” brother in real life

as kids, you’d have to defend them against bullies, seniority scares majority of the kids.

but if they don’t want you to interfere, they’d just ask you on how to defend theirselves

tell them some witty comebacks

yeah i don’t think they can do it without it leading into a physical fight so you’d have to watch their back before it becomes one

spoil them! buy them action figures, comics, new set of dnd miniatures. they’d worship you…for 5 mins before hyper-focusing on that same item you bought for them

you’d be such a big help to joyce and jonathan if you decide to fund and help them with the will situation in s1

jonathan actually talked to you, also joyce’ll treat you as her other son

imagine having a platonic relationship with max, your relationship is the relationship she wishes she has with billy

billy would probably spite you for it (he’s jealous and doesn’t want to admit it lol)

oh, and the group would probably jokingly make you compete with steve for the “best mom older brother” award (dustin would also make eddie compete too if you’ve met each other already)

somehow, they’ll find a way to turn your words against you

okay. imagine s3, the vent scene with erica

m/n: alright. how much do you want, kid? hundred? thousand? a million bucks?

robin: you’re gonna offer, a child, a million? do you even have a million on-hand?

m/n, a rich teen: uh yeah??? 🧍

robin: okay, what the actual fu–!

if you’re part of the LGBTQIA+, and openly into men or in touch with your femininity. mike’s dad would try and tell mike to not be associated with you again (sorry but he reeks of homophobia and fragile masculinity)

remember that one scene in s4 (ep 5, 1:00:52) where he’s so salty at dustin and the gang for hanging out in their house? that but insert m/n there

mr. wheeler: –why not? take us for all we’re worth

dustin: oka–

*slam*

m/n: if you care so much about your money, then here’s a fucking stack. thank you so much for your hospitality”

mr. wheeler: *is baffled by the amount of cash a teen could have* how’d you get this money??

m/n: oh i’m actually am a stripper and i have a sugar daddy– of course, i worked for it, obviously. i have a job.

dustin: *whispering* holy fucking shit, you’re so cool

if you have “old rich” money than “hard earned” money, it’s the same thing but probably less “cooler” in their eyes

if not all of them, at least one would keep bugging you on what job you have to earn a lot of money

some would say, they’re still bugging what you do for a living ‘til today

I've got a little request for a fic. I'm in love with your writings for billy and I'd like to know how his wedding day would be.

Is he scared? Is he cocky as usual? Does he even care or is he doing this just for his partner? Does he want to run? And what's his reaction seeing his partner the wirst time in their wedding attire? Just.. just fluff. Pure, teeth rotting fluff? Or angst? Or both? I don't know :D

a/n: aaa okay ik you mentioned like a reaction to wedding attire- but I found it hard to segway into that from what I was already writing, so I think I'm gonna do another part to this/separate piece just on his reaction to his s/o in their wedding clothes!

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Length: 1.5k

Warnings: Tiny angst? Mention of Neil/abusive parenting, commitment issues, fluffy Biwwy, also Max and Billy being siblings if for some reason you don't like that

'Ready' for Forever - B.H.

What the fuck was he doing?

Billy asked himself for the hundredth time as he looked at himself in the mirror. It felt so bizarre, so weird and wrong. But in a good way- he thinks.

He's always dressed nice, he takes pride in his appearance- but his appearance wasn't fully buttoned-up shirts and dress pants. That wasn't him. He'd be more comfortable in a jean jacket and an open shirt or a plain short sleeve shirt with jeans.

A suit was not something that fit him. He wasn't sure if he looked completely ridiculous or just out of place. Maybe a bit of both.

The tie in his hands isn't something he wants to put on either. It's a matter of staying true to himself and "looking presentable."

It was his wedding after all.

His wedding. God, it didn't sound real, it didn't sound... Possible.

Billy Hargrove had believed he was destined to be alone. He was used to having sex with someone and never seeing them or speaking to them again. It was how he liked it- maybe he'd play with someone for a few weeks, but he didn't stick around. He never planned to- never wanted to.

Commitment was scary. It was something that Billy had never experienced before- having someone commit themselves to him and vice versa. Even in his familial life, no one had been committed to him.

His mom had left. His dad's only commitment was to make his life a living hell. Susan was a quiet bystander and Max... Well, actually, Max had been the only person in his family who tried sometimes. And they weren't even biologically related.

It was a lot better now. She was his sister. He never hated her- it took years to get where they were now.

"Do you know how to tie that?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

Billy glared at his sister in the not too small but also not quite big enough mirror in front of him, the tie still in his hands. Max stood at the door in a woman's suit, a plain shirt under a blazer, her bright red hair was pulled back into a ponytail.

"Do you?" He said more harshly than he intended.

"Nope."

"Then shut up," he rolled his eyes as she fully stepped into the room, getting ready to take the tie from his hands, "what?"

"I'm sure we can hack it or whatever."

"I'm not wearing this fuckin' thing," his words were laced with disgust as if the piece of fabric offended him greatly. In some ways, perhaps it did because it didn't fit him. It wasn't him, "I can tie a tie. I just don't want to wear the damn thing."

"You can tie a tie? Since when?"

"Since you kept your smart ass mouth shut and minded your own fuckin' business, Max."

"So you can't tie it?"

Billy didn't even bother to offer a response. His nerves were too high, if not for that he'd have shot back at Max. Their banter was something he enjoyed nowadays- it had really become sibling-like.

But his stomach felt weird, and his chest felt tighter, his hands weren't as steady as usual- God he was nervous.

Billy Hargrove was actually fucking nervous; really nervous.

His fight or flight actually wanted him to take flight for once, and he was usually all fight. He hated it so much, it felt so weak and naked. Like he was laid bare for the world to attack.

He knew it was fine, but anxiety liked to think otherwise. People didn't look at Billy and think "anxiety" but it was something he was familiar with. But he was good at hiding. Good at making it look like anger.

"Wow, you're actually nervous," Max says with some amount of disbelief. But how could she expect otherwise, he was getting married, to someone he loved more than he ever thought he could love. Someone special.

You.

"Gee Max, thanks for pointing out the goddamn obvious,- really appreciate that."

Frayed nerves were a dangerous look on Billy Hargrove.

Max held her hands up in defense and even surrender. To what? To whatever banter they were brewing that could end in an actual fight if she wasn't careful in those moments.

The redhead felt for him. She really did. Sure, seeing him actually not in control of the situation and looking so out of his element elicited the smallest of smiles on her face, but aside from that, she felt for him.

The two had managed to find that sibling relationship they both wanted but hadn't realised how badly they wanted it. You had helped, sure, you were a tether between them sometimes. But Starcourt, almost dying on Billy's part, that's what really did it.

Before then, after the incident at the Wheelers home with the baseball bat and everything, the two step-siblings found themselves stuck in some weird limbo with one another.

They were at a point where Billy knew Max wouldn't deal with his shit like before and Max would fight back. A point where they still argued, and he still drove her around begrudgingly because of his father and her mother, but a point that was no longer as volatile. It was a point that swam dangerously close to the shore, one that needed help finding itself and just exactly where they were.

They were almost like siblings. But something was there still. Anger maybe, a misunderstanding.

And Starcourt changed it all. Things were put into perspective, Max had almost lost her brother, and Billy had done things that...

Well, to put it simply, it forced the two to talk. To really speak. And a few years down the line, they really were like siblings. They are siblings.

So how could she not feel for him at that moment; Max had come to know him well.

"Look, I'm sure it's all gonna be okay," unsure of how to help, Max offered her words slowly, and when he didn't respond she continued, "it'll be a few minutes of your life- listening to some old man talk and then saying I do. It's easy. Then you can spend the rest of your life never wearing a suit again."

"It's not the stupid fuckin' suit," Billy snaps, throwing the tie to the side, not caring where it lands, "It's not justthe stupid fuckin' suit."

Words left unsaid linger in the air but Max is fairly sure she knows what the problem really is.

"You've been with them for years," Max says resolutely, picking the tie up from the ground, "and you've been living with them for at least two. You're basically already like a married couple, all you're doing now is making it official. You've been committed this whole time and so have they, just not on paper."

Max was right. Billy had been with you for years now, the two of you had a little house together (still in goddamn Hawkins- he couldn't leave Max to deal with his dad till she was old enough to move on her own- and it was sort of growing on him. Only a bit) and he wanted no one but you.

It was always going to be you for him, he had come to accept that years ago. That was fact for him. And it took a lot of time, talks, and work for him to conclude that it would only ever be you.

Commitment was scary. But hadn't he been committed all along? Just not on paper, not by law.

It eased his mind a smidge- but he was still wound tight. He supposed he'd just have to go do it, get married, and just deal with the anxiety of it all because it wouldn't just go away.

He wanted you. As much as he could have you, in every way he could.

"I ain't wearing the fuckin' tie," Billy finally mutters, akin to a child, "and I'm not keeping this shit buttoned all the way up. Look like a goddamn butler."

Billy's already unbuttoning a few of the white shirts buttons, revealing his chest more. There's a gnarly-looking scar in the center, one that reminded him of bad times. But one he had slowly come to accept.

It looked kind of badass too.

"They'll probably appreciate that."

Max puts the tie on the table in the room and shrugs her shoulders, making her way to the door.

"You better hurry up, or you'll be the one walking down the aisle with flowers while they're the ones at the other end."

Billy scoffs. Him, holding flowers and walking down the aisle? No way in hell.

Max is gone, and Billy is alone in the room again. He looks at himself and feels a bit more like himself. Shirt more open, no ugly tie, earring in his ear (the matching earring to the set is in yours) and his hair is wavy, curly; a single curl falls over his forehead.

Breathe in deep. Let it out.

Goddamn. He's not sure he'll ever feel ready. But he knows that he is ready.

Maybe he doesn't really care too much about 'marriage.' He knows you are already his, it's just words, law. But if it makes you happy, then he's going to do it. Besides, you having his last name sounds kind of nice. 

18 | Masterlist

summary: Billy Hargrove needs a Queen and you need someone to help you get out of the hellhole that you are currently in as you move to Hawkins. It should be an easy and obvious solution, right?

Not, not even close. Because it doesn't matter if Billy keeps dreaming about you or that you think that if the sun and the sea had a love child it would look like Billy, you really hate each other's guts -at least, that's what you keep telling yourselves- until you are caught in a not so great position. literally. Lots of insults flying around, lots of lying to yourself, lots of fighting before ending up against a wall your lip inches away from his because that's what enemies do, right?

billy hargrove masterlist

prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter seven | chapter eight * | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven (scheduled a week from now- read early on my ko-fii!!!)

updates on monday or thursday (hopefully)

extras:

18 playlist

moodboard (updated and new)

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smut: *

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feedback is always welcomed

donate: help me with my laptop?

also maybe soon available on wattpad?

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author's note: my writing doesn't condone billy's action in the show.

Going Away to College

Pairing: rockstar!Billy Hargrove x fem!Reader

Summary: Billy is scared about his girlfriend leaving him on the road to go to college and can only express this to her through song. (Inspired by Going Away to College by Blink-182)

Or the one where Billy & Eddie live, become best friends and Billy joins Corroded Coffin which becomes super famous and he writes this song for you!

A/N: The Billy sending Max polaroids thing is inspired by the fact Dacre and his sister have twin owls for when he’s away so she feels close to him bc I thought that was fuckin cute.

Billy couldn’t contain you forever.

He knew it even when you told him that you’d come on the road with him as Corroded Coffin was taking off a couple of years ago. It wouldn’t be long before you needed your mind stretched. Sure, tour life was cool and it only improved as the band got more famous but you needed something more substantial.

By the end of two years, you decided it was time for you to get your shit together and finally go to college.

Billy was happy for you, of course. It wasn’t the end of the relationship. It’s just that he had went and chased his dream with your support, now it was time for you to go and chase yours. There were the usual promises of seeing each other on any weekends you could fly out to see him; spring, summer and winter breaks; and he would come back from tour or recording when the schedule permitted.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified of not having you around. Eddie and the guys were fun but they always had their girlfriends with them. Billy was scared of getting lonely out on the road without you there to keep him warm at night.

Part of the enjoyment of touring the world was the making memories with you. Billy would take polaroids of you both at all of the world’s greatest landmarks and would write little notes on them. He sent the goofy ones to Max with postcards so she could feel close to you both and compiled a scrapbook of them all to show you when each tour was over.

He had kept the one of you both outside the Colosseum in Rome in his wallet because you were looking at each other and smiling in it. Rather than looking at the camera or the landmark with ancient prestigious history, you looked at each other with warmth and adoration. Without you, who was he going to share these moments with?

Still, he had to let you go.

He couldn’t get the words out to you about how he felt. It was funny; he could carve your name into his eye-wateringly expensive bass and be physically incapable of being anywhere near you without touching you. But talking to you to express his fear? Fuck, that was hard.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do. He gathered a pen, a notepad and Eddie and sat down in a hotel room one day while you went sightseeing with Chrissy to write a song about his feelings.

Tonight was to be the night to premiere it, not only to the dedicated fans but to you. It was your last night on tour with them before leaving to start college.

To put it bluntly, Billy’s heart was in his stomach. Everything you did that day attracted his most stern fixation, savouring every moment of your presence before it was to be yanked away from him for months. Yet, he couldn’t find it in him to reveal this to you, despite your many attempts to get through to him.

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong, baby?” You asked him sweetly as he took his traditional final smoke before the show.

“Positive, princess.” He replied shortly, exhaling an opaque cloud of smoke that almost hid his anxiety-ridden features. Almost.

“You know, if you wanna talk about me leaving, then we can…” You started but Billy cut you off.

“Later. We’ll talk about it later.” He abruptly said, giving you a quick kiss and responding to Eddie hollering at him to move his ass. He brushed past you to join his bandmates, leaving you feeling disheartened.

It was like he didn’t care; never acknowledging your leaving and hardly excited anymore when you brought it up. The closer your leaving date approached, the more apathetic your Billy became. It made you fear the worst, as though your leaving for college was accelerating the inevitable demise of yours and Billy’s relationship.

It was a cruel kick in the teeth when you considered having put your life on hold for 2 years while he rose to his full potential with the band and you merely coasted along. You were certain that Billy had become a better person than that, but maybe you were wrong. Exchanging late night after parties for all night cramming sessions seemed a good idea at the time. Now, the concept of losing Billy made this all seem so bittersweet.

Sighing, you decided to just have one last good night on tour before you had to kiss this life – and Billy – goodbye. You folded your arms and joined Chrissy at your usual spot at the side of the stage to cheer them on.

The concert proceeded as usual; with the same set-list they had every night for this leg of the tour. You could recite the order of songs in your sleep.

Something was different that night. While Eddie would turn every now and then to wink at Chrissy and the others would do the same for their girlfriends, Billy did anything but look at you. It created a thick sensation of bile in your throat as you contemplated that he might be out there scanning the crowd for your potential replacement as his bunk buddy.

Billy was stoic and unlike his usual show-off performer self. Usually him and Eddie exchanged banter on stage or the band would challenge him to prove his status as keg king mid-performance (which he would always do and continue to be note-perfect on the bass afterwards). He was different tonight; he needed to be focussed so that your song would be perfect.

Towards the end of the set, which usually came the fan-favourite song from the debut album, Eddie addressed the crowd.

“Alright Chicago! Because you guys are just the best crowd ever – and no, I don’t say that every night, I really do mean it – we decided to mix it up a bit!” Eddie began.

“You see, Billy here, you guys know Billy, right?” Eddie asked, gesturing over to his blonde bandmate who waved to the crowd currently going crazy for him. It wasn’t a secret to you or Chrissy that Billy and Eddie were the members most popular with the ladies.

“Yeah, Billy’s girlfriend goes off to college tomorrow! Isn’t that sad?” The crowd responded with an overwhelming ‘awwwww’ to Eddie, hung on his every word. You narrowed your eyebrows, only now becoming aware of Chrissie’s sniggering next to you, clearly in on something that you weren’t.

“So, he wrote her a song, and we want to play it for you!” Eddie exclaimed enthusiastically. “Oh! And he’s gonna sing it for you!”

The crowd went wild with excitement as Billy and Eddie exchanged places on stage so that he could be centre stage. Your heart was thumping so hard in your chest that you were scared it might escape and your throat was so dry you couldn’t form a single word.

Not that your brain was doing much better at forming thoughts. It was like being in autopilot, staring at your boyfriend ready to take the lead. Billy never sang in the band – despite his being very good at it, only Eddie had the confidence and showmanship for that role.

Billy had written you songs before which you had always appreciated but singing them was a different ball-game. Clearly, he was about to make a real statement. The whole thing was all very overwhelming and heart-warming and surreal all it once.

“This one is for you, babe.” Billy said in a gruff voice, looking at you for the first time all night. Chrissy grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly and squealing eagerly for you. It was the first time since Eddie’s announcement that you actually felt your body move. Feet planted to the spot, you stared at Billy as he turned round to start the song.

It started with a simple guitar melody before exploding into a full band effort with the drums and bass. And then Billy started to sing:

“Please take me by the hand It's so cold out tonight I'll put blankets on the bed I won't turn out the light, just Don't forget to think about me And I won't forget you "I'll write you once a week", she said”

Somewhere in the first verse, although you weren’t quite sure where, tears started to fall from your eyes which blurred your vision. Still, you held Billy in your eyeline, just grateful to find out that you were wrong earlier and in actual fact that boy did care so very much that you were leaving.

“Why does it feel the same to fall in love or break it off? And if young love is just a game, then I must have missed the kick-off Don't depend on me to ever follow through on Anything, but I'd go through hell for you, and

I haven't been this scared in a long time And I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody This world's an ugly place, but you're so beautiful to me.”

Billy’s confidence only increased as the song progressed and when he turned round to see you crying but with the biggest smile on your face, he knew his message was coming across. Swelling inside your chest, your heart felt as though it was about to burst. You knew that if it did then the pieces would be etched with Billy’s name and your love would be evident for all to see.

He had borne his soul for you tonight on that stage and whilst you had been desperate to see this for weeks, it occurred to you that this might just be the way Billy knew how. It made you wonder how he was able to cope with all of this couped up inside him for so long but it was no matter, he was getting his catharsis now.

“I'll think about the times She kissed me after class, and She put up with my friends I acted like an ass, I'd Ditch my lecture to watch the girls play soccer Is my picture still hanging in her locker?

I haven't been this scared in a long time And I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody This world's an ugly place, but you're so beautiful.”

During the instrumental bridge, Billy was quick to run off the stage with his bass slung by his side on its strap. Cupping your face in his big hands, he pulled you in for the most desperate but passionate kiss you two had ever shared. The tears still cascaded from your eyes but neither of you minded.

“I love you so fucking much, okay? Don’t you ever forget that.” He said to you when he finally pulled back, staring into your pretty crying eyes.

“I love you too.” You choked out.

“Okay, well, I gotta finish this song, I just needed you to know that. And, fuck! Promise me we’ll be okay? Like really promise it! We’re gonna survive this and we’re gonna be so happy, me and you. Right, princess?” Billy frantically asked, his nerves forcing his thoughts to come out all at once and unfiltered.

“We’re gonna be more than okay, baby.” You smiled widely at him and placed another soft peck on his lips with a giggle before pushing his chest away. “Now go! Finish this fucking beautiful song!”

Billy chuckled cheekily walking backwards out onto the stage and blowing you one last kiss which you caught with your hand. You kept it closed in your palm so that you might keep it forever.

Turning to the crowd with a victorious smile on his face, Billy got back into show-man mode and finished off his gorgeous love song.

“I haven't been this scared in a long time And I'm so unprepared, so here's your valentine Bouquet of clumsy words, a simple melody This world's an ugly place, but you're so beautiful.”

Billy Hargove x reader fluff

Can I request a Billy x Reader where the kids have no idea she’s Billy’s girlfriend and the boys have little crushes on her. They’re always visiting where she works (whether that’s at the pool/arcade/Starcourt is totally up to you). One day they swing by to see her, and notice that Billy is there, openly flirting with the reader and she’s dishing it right back. The boys don’t pick up on the obvious signs, annoyed at Billy for hitting on their crush, but Max and El quickly realize there’s something between the two older individuals. Just a lot fluff and playful banter and maybe a few sweet moments between Billy and his girl? Thank you! Sorry if it’s a lot lmao

Billy requests are open!

Warnings: very vague mentions of abuse/violence, implied sexual references bc billy is a flirt, innocent teenage pining lol

“That’ll be fifty tickets,” you said boredly, leaning your elbow on the glass countertop while you propped your cheek up on your hand.

The kid shoved a sweaty wad of tickets towards you and you sighed before handing him the prize he had picked out. He grabbed it and ran off without a second glance, and you were totally fine with that.

Working at Palace Arcade wasn’t really a gig you enjoyed all that much. It was alright—you had an unending supply of cheap snacks, you were surrounding by games all day, and if you really wanted to you could skim some tickets and use to them get your own prizes—but it was so. So. Boring.

Okay. It wasn’t necessarily that it was a boring job. On busy nights, there was plenty to do…but a lot of the kids were obnoxious, you didn’t get along all that well with your coworker, Keith, and you had so many things you would rather be doing.

Things like Billy Hargrove.

Keep reading

Business as Usual

Based of this. Ceo!Kiyoomi x Reader

cw: fluff. smut. breeding. oral sex (f!receiving). reader is an aspiring actress. reader is a foreigner but it isn’t specified from where. ceo!kiyoomi’s most recent business venture is building and opening a museum. probably for tax reasons lmao. misogyny (not by kiyoomi). Kiyoomi’s implied to have issues with his father. men talking business 😫. joke talk of killing.

wc: 3.5k

Ahh, something sweet would be nice…

Kiyoomi’s already squeezing grooves into the back of your thighs before you can formally acknowledge him. “I have a case of chuppets in the freezer you can go at.”

Your gasp is muffled by the floor, half turned from where your bottom half is lazily propped up on the edge of the bed. “You do?”

“You like the strawberry kind, right?” You nod as his fingers creep toward the crotch of your panties. “They’re all yours.”

He can feel the area carpet vibrate from where your groan seeps in appreciatively. “You’re a god, Omi!”

The squeak you let out is pitched as he lands a hard smack on one of your cheeks.

“I gotta meet a couple of investors for lunch so I’m leaving one of my cards for you to order whatever you want from home.” Kiyoomi pulls you apart until your lips part from under your underwear, glistening for him like they should. “But I’ll be back before it gets too late.”

You sway your hips as he pulls your panties to the side, already rubbing tentative circles. “You’re still pretty wet from earlier,” And you can’t help but whine as he pushes two of his fingers inside. “How long do you think you can stay in this position?”

Your eyes nearly cross when he crooks his fingers. “Ah, as long as you need me to.”

His suit pants hiss against the bed sheets as he climbs in behind you, hands still firmly gripping onto your ass cheeks as he positions himself on the bed.

“I got twenty minutes before I need to be walking out the door.” Kiyoomi’s breath is hot against your bare cunt. “So, I’ll try to make this fast-“

The lewd squelching of his tongue parting you from the back would be enough to make you shiver if not for the way he laves you up. Scouring your hole with his hot tongue and groaning at the taste of you, pressing forward to dig himself deeper.

“F…Fffuck! Omi…!”

He’s insatiable as he digs you out with his tongue, lewd as he guides your hips up to tongue at your clit. The depravity at which he slurps you up is so unabashed that you’re already tensing up for an orgasm, and reaching back when he props you up with his hands; zeroing in on your clit to get you to cum in his mouth.

You must’ve already been too riled up from his treatment earlier this morning, it doesn’t take long till you’re nearly sobbing against the floor. Calling for him as he guides you into an orgasm.

“Fuck! I’m-… m’ cumming, Omi!” You pant. “m’cumming! m’cumming!”

The way he grunts into you has another shock wave zipping through the bend in your spine. “Mhm..”

You’re reaching back to push him away when the feeling starts to become overstimulating, but he’s already up on his knees again. Already pulled out of his pants and hungrily lining himself up with your clenching hole.

Kiyoomi doesn’t give you any time to prepare, he’s shoving himself in between breaths and making you choke on your tongue.

He hisses through his teeth. “Oh fuck.” He braces his hands on your sides and starts his pace. “….Oh my god. Fuck.”

Your fingers dig thin miscolorings into the carpet as his thrust knocks the wind out of your lungs. Whining out when he dumps most of his weight on your back and starts grinding in as deep as he’ll go.

He’s in your stomach. “Mhf… angel..” He presses his lips into your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good for me, baby.”

God, the sounds you’re making under him has his eyes rolling back in his head, let alone how you’ve already started milking him for all he’s worth. He could never get sick of this perfect little pussy. His perfect little pussy. So hot and tight and made just for him. He doesn’t even know how he’s gotten this far without it. Especially when he knows how to press all those perfect little buttons on the inside to make you squeal for him.

Kiyoomi supports himself on his arms again to tweak his angle, balls clenching when you start to whine out so prettily. “Kiiiiyomi!”

You reach back so suddenly to push against his button up that he has to pin your arms down to keep you from running away from it. “….s’okay baby you can take it.” He pounds in a few particularly forceful thrusts that turn your whines into hiccuping sobs. “Fuck. Look at you such a…. Good girl for me. Good fucking girl.”

He has to hold himself back from cumming too quickly when you start to clench up. “Omi! Omi! Omi!” You’re shrill. “s’good, Omi! ….m’cumming, Omi! ….I love you, Omi!”

“Oh fuck.. Fucking shiiit!”

You’re already milking him empty when you start to cum. Hiccuping at the way you clench around his hot seed as his thrusts deepen and he fucks you like he’s trying to get it to take. Even reaches into your panties to rub coaxing circles into your sensitive clit just to prolong your orgasm. Grinding himself in until he's certain he’s painted your insides with his spend, and even then he still keeps at it.

He’s still rocking into you when your sobs turn into overstimulated mewls, hot tears making puddles into the carpet.

Kiyoomi lazes a few hot kisses into your inner neck as he softly collides his head with yours. “Mh, I love you too, angel.” He breathes. “So much.”

“You mean it, Omi?” He’s the luckiest man alive.

He finally lets himself fall limp as he peppers a few chaste kisses over your ears. “More than anything.”

He’s never letting you go.

•••••••

There’s a less than usual air of ease around him when he greets Yukko and his associate Kanon.

So much so that the former of the pair lets out a relieved breath as he shakes hands with the young tycoon - and sees he doesn’t revile at the extended contact.

“Sakusa-san,” Yukko bows. “You look better than new.”

Sakusa bows back manneredly. “Appreciated, Yukko-san.”

—-

Sakusa folds his napkin over his lap as they wait for the drinks.

“We’re avid supporters of freedom of choice, the two of us.” Yukko fixes himself in his seat. “It’s a human right.”

Kanon nods. “And your speech on autonomy and liberation at the Kenshin’s banquet really stood out to us. It’s so reassuring to see you setting a standard for this newer generation and putting yourself out there as someone who stands with the people.” He presses. “Very few young men with your upbringing can say that they’re brave enough to do the same-“

“Educated enough, even.” Yukko finishes.

Sakusa pulls his seat closer to his chair. “You don’t have to praise me for something like that. It should be a given.” He hums cooly. As if the speech wasn’t written by his foreigner girlfriend the night before, beat into his head and recited in his ear even as he said it. Not that he doesn’t agree with the message though. “We’re the few people fortunate enough to have a voice when it comes to these things - we should exercise it whenever we get the chance.”

“You’re exactly right!” Yukko waves his finger at him. “There are so very few people like us - like you - who have a seat at the table. And so little of the seats go to someone who means any good with it.”

“Which is why we wanna invest in The International Institution of Innovation,” Kanon adds. “And why we would like to suggest an exhibit to accompany our investment,”

Sakusa nods as they continue. “Japan’s history as - a lot of the world’s history - is ballasted and rewritten with elitist biases in mind. So many little people who’ve done big things, cultural things, buried by mediocrity or the praises of people who lived their entire lives being praised. Worse, having the things they spent their entire lives dedicated to, miscredited to some rich guy who didn’t lift a finger.”

“Our people have worked with a few of the families of these people. There’s a-“ Yukko taps a few keys into his laptop before turning it in Sakusa’s direction. “A few small museums of our own we’ve built in Portugal, Brazil, we have one in an American city you’ve most likely heard of as Las Vegas.”

He reaches over to quietly slide through the pictures. And Kanon huffs a bit in disbelief. - Whoever said this guy was a pain to work with obviously must’ve bumped into the wrong guy. “They’ve garnered a lot of attention in the respective areas. A lot of what they call “Left wing movements” in the United States cite it a lot when referring to landmarks in the state.” Yukko says.

And landmarks they are. If this is what they call small then he must work in a shoebox?

“You haven’t considered opening one up in Japan until now?” Sakusa furrows.

“You know the climate in the world right now.” Kanon sighs. “With the rise of crime, certain political tensions,” There’s a familiar pattern of vibrations that ring off in his pocket, he reaches for it instinctively. “We didn't wanna risk building one in the current political climate and having it destroyed by opening.”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “So building an exhibit in my museum is more cost effective.” And he’s not afraid to look as unimpressed as he is. “You know, on the off chance that my museum gets destroyed in this current political climate.”

Well, it’s not like you wouldn’t be able to afford it. “Well, we’re more than willing to do our part on the expenses if something like that were to occur.” We’ll pay what we lose and dip. “And our investment excludes what we’ll pay to build the exhibition.”

“You’re paying to have your names on a plaque.”

Yukko chuckles somewhat. “In short terms, yes.”

Sakusa fishes his phone out of his pocket as their server approaches. “In long terms?”

Kanon slides him the check.

Yup. Sakusa grazes his thumb against that familiar strip of press. Those are some pretty long terms.

“Are we ready to order?”

Sakusa checks his messages as the two men speak before him.

Angel: i hope ur having a good lunch!! i got u a sooprise <3

Kiyoomi: It’s alright. I wish I was home with you more than anything.

Kiyoomi: A sooprise? Now I’m excited.

Angel: i wish you were here too :( i can’t wait till ur back so i can give you a kiss on the forehead

Angel: i hope u like it!! i know u haven’t had it in a while

Kiyoomi: I haven’t had it in a while? What’s something I haven’t had in a while?

Kiyoomi: Oh! Are we talking about the last time you sat on my face?

Angel: we are not, my love. but good guess

My love. He smiles.

“What about you, Sakusa-san?”

Sakusa glances at the server before looking off for a moment, answering curtly. “Okaki, please.”

He nods. “Alright! And anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

He leaves with a bow.

Sakusa inhales deeply as he sits his phone on the table. Picking up the check and holding it before glancing at the two sitting before him. “You two are very generous.”

Yukko raises an eyebrow. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d like to add your exhibit to my museum.”

The two men both let out a collective sigh of relief. Now that the richest twenty-six year old in all of Asia has agreed to have their names engraved next to his on a project like this. - Even if it did cost them an arm and a leg. You know, from the stories they’ve heard, they were expecting to leave with their tails between their legs after offering to impede on a project orchestrated by the most “Pragmatic Rich Kid in the country.” But he’s… surprisingly personable. Even without mention of the sheer intimidation he exudes.

He’s certainly nothing like his father.

“That’s amazing to hear, Sakusa-san. We’re honored.” Kanon sighs.

Yukko nods. “And trust, you will be involved in every part of the construction process. We want to be as transparent as possible when installing this exhibit.”

“Do you have any blueprints drawn up?”

Yukko hums excitedly as he pulls his laptop toward him again, tapping loudly as he searches for the file. “We do!”

Sakusa patiently waits as he fishes through his laptop, glancing at the server as he comes back with their food.

His phone buzzes across the table.

Angel: You better be eating more than Okaki!

He visibly blushes.

Kanon furrows at the expression of the young billionaire in front of him as his associate busies himself with his laptop, following his eyes toward his phone.

Disregarding the text from his girlfriend?! He gasps at the picture on his lock screen.

“Is that _____?” Kanon asks. “Oh god she’s so talented!”

Sakusa nods a little abashedly as he reaches for his phone. “Are you a fan?”

“My daughters love her. Oh well, my sons do too but not in the way my daughters do - If you know what I mean.” He laughs as Sakusa’s back straightens. He knows his sons, knows they’re about his age if not a little older. Knows he might have to have a talk with them one day too.

“We saw her just recently at the Blue Ribbon Awards. Can you believe she won?” Yeah, after watching you work yourself to the bone just to come back with so little to show for it. “I for sure thought Tomomi Minoru would’ve had it.”

I’m sure you haven't heard that a million times.

“But who wouldn’t take it a little easy on a woman like that?”

Or that.

It’s nearly painful how much Sakusa’s trying to keep himself from outwardly scowling. Especially when Kanon starts to open his mouth again, familiar hearts in eyes most men seem to adopt when they’re drooling over the woman he’s in love with. “I’ve gotta be what - twice her age maybe. But we’re all men here? The woman’s a doll. Talk about lucky work. Especially for a foreigner.”

Oh yep, he’s scowling. “I wonder what she looks like in person.” Yukko asks absently. “You think she’s as pretty as she is on T.V. or do you think it’s the make-up they usually cake on there…”

“She’s breathtaking.” Sakusa says flatly.

Kanon tilts his head as Yukko glances over. “You’re kidding? You’ve seen her in person?”

“Yep.”

“Well, I mean,” Yukko sits his laptop back on the table as he reaches for his drink, wincing as he sips. “Sakusa-san’s Sakusa-san. He’s most definitely got the funds.”

“Ohhh. Did you book her?” Kanon chuckles a little slimily. And the connotations of that are clear. So much so that Yukko rolls his eyes when he nudges him. “She’s just old enough for someone your age, right? Still young but not too young.”

Sakusa inhales.

“No. I don’t have to book her.” He admits tightly. “Since we sleep in the same bed.”

The two men freeze in place.

Kanon opens his mouth for a long silent moment until he’s pushing out his breath in little clips of his voice. “O-Oh… You two are-“ Sakusa nods. “Oh! Oh my god! I’m… I’m so sorry-“

“I hear it all the time.”

“Yeah but it’s still not good that I said it!” Kanon glances at a frantic Yukko.

“We didn’t mean to come off so disrespectfully!” Yukko flushes.

Sakusa shakes his head. “The blueprints.”

“W-What?”

“Show me the blueprints.” He gestures to the laptop.

Yukko clumsily turns it in his direction.

•••••

He’s barely through the door when you’ve already found your place in his arms. And he melts over you like butter, you let yourself be wholly suffocated by him.

You’re warm as you hum into his chest. “Hi, baby.”

“Hi, angel.”

“How was lunch with your investors?”

Kiyoomi exhales as you stand on your toes to help him out of his suit jacket, conditioned draft in the air scented by that new conditioner he likes seep into his nose and turn his brain into mush. “It was… lunch with my investors.”

He bends himself nearly in half to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck. “They wanna build an exhibit in my museum ‘cause they don’t wanna risk building their own and having some terrorist take it down.”

Your tone is so mirrored to his from earlier that it evokes a chuckle. “So they’ll risk yours?”

“Mhm.”

You mumble something sour into his shoulder. Lucky him he’s well versed enough in your native tongue to understand the phrase “Assholes.”

Kiyoomi kisses hot spots behind your ear. “They’re fans by the way.” He grimaces a little sourly into your neck. “Big fans.”

“Hm? I came up?”

He hums. “Kanon saw your picture on my lockscreen and proceeded to shove his foot in his mouth.” Kiyoomi breathes in a long whiff of you before blowing out temperedly. “Was under the impression that you did bookings.”

You chuff airly as you rub up and down the expanse of his arms consolingly. It doesn't really phase you to be slobbered over by men anymore, hasn’t really since your debut back as a fresh faced eighteen year old. But Omi’s still really new and unkind to the rubbernecking that includes being associated with a woman like you, let alone to love you.

“Bookings, huh?” You snicker as he nods his head silently. “I mean… to his credit I have put on a show for you once or twice.”

He scoffs before pressing one last firm kiss into the crook of your neck and standing up to his height again, pinching your cheek as he starts for the rest of the penthouse. “Yeah, but those are for my eyes only. - And they’ll stay that way.”

Kiyoomi sets his things on the marble of the lounge room table with a sigh. He’s been working nearly every day since the construction of his museum finally came into fruition and he couldn’t feel any less drained from it. Decent contractors have become harder and harder to find in this new age of impermanence and variability, and everybody who’s anybody seems to have their own two cents about his choice of structure or how they could be a part of it somehow. If he were a less honorable man - or a more unsavory man much like one he knows so particularly, he would’ve hired any three star contractor who could draw a decent circle, put all his focus into charming investors, and underpaid his workers just to save a few extra pennies. But he isn’t that. And a businessman like him prefers to be as close to the business as possible; wants to see his efforts turn out the way they’re supposed to.

He pouts a little to himself. But he also wants to spend time with his baby too.

“I’m gonna be beating them off with a stick for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” He exhales. “Is that the price I pay for loving a beautiful woman?”

You press a light kiss into his bicep as you glide for the direction of the kitchen. “Like you didn’t make the cover of Vanity Japan’s Handsome and Wealthy this spring.” You poke. “I’ll have to start burning incense before I visit you at work just so I don’t catch the evil eye from any of your female employees.”

He chuckles a little tiredly as he trails behind. “You’ll be fine in any case. Not like I didn’t start growing Aak the minute we made it official.”

“Very funny.”

“I know right-“ He sniffs.

His mouth immediately starts to water.

“Did you…?” Kiyoomi glances at the plates laid out on the kitchen counter. “Cook?”

You smile brightly. “Sooprise!”

Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to respond.

It smells… heavenly. Like freshly cut ingredients and even spices, pervading the air so warmly that his skin prickles before settling comfortably under his button up and he’s nearly inclined to openly salivate at just the smell of it.

You fish a spoon out of a pot near the stove, scooping the contents of it carefully into a bowl. “I know how long it’s been since you’ve had a home cooked meal and you’ve seemed so stressed lately.” You lean into him when you feel his chest press against your back, reaching up to caress his jaw as his arms fasten themselves tightly around your waist. “So I bought a few groceries instead of takeout and made something from home!”

You can’t help but grin when he starts to dig his nose into the crook of your neck again. “I hope you like the surprise.”

“If you ever leave me I’ll kill us both.”

You guffaw wholeheartedly.

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