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#OH but for good measure i found this one too
aurumacadicus · 11 hours
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159 or 139 for the ficlet please!
(Also, do these numbers correspond or a prompt or are we just winging it here, curious minds would like to know how this lottery is working 🧐)
These numbers correspond to a prompt set which I can post a link to after this is done but I wanted the randomness of it. No offense but you guys always go for the same prompts (which don't get me wrong, make sense for the characters/my writing) but I wanted to stretch some writing muscles!!!! So I anonymized the list :3c
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Steve groaned when he realized he couldn't ignore the constant pinging of his phone anymore. It had well and truly rung through his half-dozing state. He pushed himself up, popping each vertebrae as he attempted to blink the sleep out of his eyes, then yawned, loud, and scrubbed at his eyes.
He took a glance around his room, then squinted in confusion when he saw his lamp had been knocked off the bedside table, there was a... sock? On the ceiling fan? And the ceiling fan was askew, the edges of the blades scraping the paint off on one side and nearly low enough to clip his hair on the other. He stared at it, mouth hanging open in confusion, especially as it finally registered that it was not a sock hanging from the fan, but a ripped pair of tights.
Steve grabbed his phone, still staring at the tights, as he wondered how, exactly, they'd been ripped right down the middle of the crotch and where, exactly, the other half was. He found it as he rolled onto his back to check his phone, one end tied to the foot board of his bed, the other tied around his ankle. He blinked slowly, then thumbed his phone open, peering at the notifications.
[Bucky] If you don't respond, I'm calling the cops
Steve blinked again, then sent a simple 'responding' and scrolled up to see what was going on. He came to the conclusion that he'd disappeared halfway through a party. Bucky and Natasha's engagement party, maybe? They were celebrating something, he remembered. The first messages has been teasing, calling him a curmudgeonly old man, then jokes about him getting lucky, then concern as he'd never replied to any of them. He flipped back to Bucky's messages.
[Me] Yo what happened My lamp's broken? And my ceiling fan? I'm tied to the bed kinda.
He looked around again just for good measure, then did a double-take at his sheets. He snapped a picture and sent it along as well.
[Me] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.
Bucky's response came only a few seconds later.
[Bucky] Oh my god the stripper??????????????! I wondered what happened to him!!!!!!
"The stripper?" Steve asked, squinting at the screen in confusion.
The door to his bathroom opened, and a man stepped out, naked as the day he was born. He was beautifully damp. He had a towel wrapped around his hair. Steve understood, suddenly, why half a pair of tights were on the ceiling fan. He immediately wanted to fuck this man so athletically that the other half snapped off his leg and flew onto the ceiling fan too.
"I ordered breakfast," the man said casually, pulling a duffel bag from... somewhere. "It should be here in about fifteen minutes. I'm Tony, by the way," he added, picking a pair of briefs out of the bag.
"You don't have to put those on, Tony," Steve offered, instead of doing the polite thing of offering his name back, or asking if he wanted anything else.
Tony let out a bark of laughter. "Just as charming as last night," he teased, shaking his head.
God, Steve hoped he'd been charming last night. "So... were we introduced last night?" he asked carefully. "And you thought I forgot your name?"
"I was introduced as Bambi last night," Tony said, offering him a smirk. "And you waxed poetic about my big brown eyes until I basically had no choice but to fall into bed with you."
"Bambi," Steve repeated, and then, louder, "Ooooh, Bambi." Suddenly he remembered exactly what had happened last night, up to and including how his room had gotten messed up, and it had started with Tony finally asking, 'Does that make you Faline? Or are you more of a Ronno?' and Steve just picking him up and carrying him toward the door as Tony giggled in his arms.
Well. Food was coming. He'd have time to convince Tony he was more than just a fan of brown eyes. Tony had a cheeky smile. He found those always seemed to get him into trouble in the best way.
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nedeii · 1 month
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killabratzzcherri · 1 year
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┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° Here is a quick PSA for all my dear followers, friends, and people who are stopping by!
You cannot. I repeat. CANNOT.
Compare one person's suffering with another's. It doesn't work that way. You cannot invalidate one person because someone else had it quote on quote worse. There isn't a worse, because they are not the same person, and they haven't had the same experiences. Yes, someone might have had something more severe happen to them, but you can't say that another persons pain is not just as valid purely because the cause of the pain wasn't as bad as someone else's. That one thing, although not as bad as someone else's, might be the worst thing to happen to THEM yet. You see that, THEM. Not you, or the person your trying to compare with. THEM, because the only way to really "compare" someone's pain, is by seeing THEIR past experiences. AND STILL, it's not even comparable because it is not, they're not the same as they where.
People are made and shaped by so many things, and no one is ever completely the same. I’ll say it again. No one is EVER completely the same. So, no one ever completely reacts the same way, has the same experiences to draw knowledge from, lessons from. Hell, no one even has the same exact thought process. Everyone is different, and everyone has been shaped differently.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk☺️
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hyunsvngs · 6 months
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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! - stepdad!bang chan x fem!reader
wc: 10.2k
cw: chan is your mother's boyfriend and you want to fuck him, chan is 30 and reader is described to be younger & in college, lix is a menace, changbin is a moral compass, you do not care about morals, SMUT MDNI.
synopsis: you're home for the holidays, and your mother - who you can't stand - has a new, young, hot boyfriend. it's such a good idea trying to seduce him.. right?
a/n: it's so here <3 my first commission! i hope u all love it <3 smut warnings under the cut ofc. i also tried a new format with this fic so pls let me know what u think?!?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: dirty talk, breeding kink, mutual masturbation, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, cumplay if u squint?, humiliation if u squint?, anal fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), edging maybe briefly, sex with feelings
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You hated going home for the holidays.
You were a rich kid, to put it simply. Your mother loved to leech off the men that she was with, marrying them quickly and trying to suck as much money as she could out of them in gifts and straight up cash before they eventually clued on and left her. It had been why your father had left when you were a mere infant, but you’d always lived in luxury due to the incessant payments that he was forced to give. You’d never met him, but there was a plus side - he was paying your college tuition, where you met your best friends.
Perhaps if you thought about it a bit more you’d realise that the only reason you went to college was to get away from your mother. She pissed you off, sauntering around the house in silk kimonos with a maid trailing behind her, pausing to look in mirrors so that she could choose where her next round of botox would hit. She frustrated you beyond belief, but you still had to go home for Christmas. Annoyingly early, too, because she had a surprise for you.
Okay, well, it wasn’t a surprise. She’d FaceTimed you a week earlier, an irritatingly wrinkle-free face popping up on the screen as she sipped mulled wine and revelled in your absence. She had a new boyfriend, she said. You’d love him, she said. Your opinion matters most to me, she said. The last one you knew to be a lie. God, you hated her. 
Still, you lugged your suitcase through the front door and huffed, booting the side with your foot to try and shake some of the snow off. No surprise, she hadn’t helped you in from your taxi. She hadn’t even come to get you from the airport a mere twenty minute drive away. You dropped the suitcase on the floor, giving it another kick just for good measure, and then you were trudging into the kitchen. You’d heard voices from there, so it had to be them.
“Oh, honey!” Your mother chirped upon seeing you. You couldn’t see the face of the man washing dishes behind her, his white shirt sleeves rolled up and back facing you. You didn’t care anyway. “You made it home safe, then.”
“Yeah. The taxi driver was super nice and let me call him mum,” You quipped. She furrowed her eyebrows, lips pursed. 
“Okay, you’re being weird already,” She mumbled, and then shook her head, shrugging it off. She walked to the man by the sink, spinning him around by his slender waist to display him to you. “This is Chan!”
You felt silly, stood in the kitchen doorway in oversized clothes and covered in ivory snow. The man’s eyes found you, shocked by your mother’s harsh manoeuvring, and he blinked with surprise at your figure. You blinked with surprise, too.
Chan was hot. Incredibly so, actually, and he looked young. Younger than your mother, with a big nose you wanted to ride and plush lips parting as he raised one hand to wave at you, still wet with soapy dishwasher. You wanted to lick him clean. The white shirt he wore stretched across broad shoulders, and the sleeves were fit to burst around incredibly toned biceps. You allowed your gaze to wander down, eyes focusing on the thick thighs in the black dress trousers he wore. 
There was no way this was real. “Okay,” You burst out laughing, eyes darting between Chan and your mother. “And, who is Chan? A friend? A colleague? He’s not your boyfriend.”
Chan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “No, I am. I’m your mother’s boyfriend, sweetheart.”
His voice was deep - too deep, deep enough to haunt your dreams and those late night sessions you had in your bed with your trusty vibrator. This was going to be trouble. You were going to be trouble.
“You’re shitting me,” You couldn’t get the amused smile off of your face. No fucking way. Your mother hadn’t bagged that. “You’re fucking with me. You have to be. Mum, he’s closer to my age than he is to yours.”
“I’m thirty, actually,” He mumbled, looking sheepish. Your mother stared at you in shock, jaw dropped at your brazenness. 
“I rest my case,” You concluded, nodding decisively. When the two of them just continued to stare, you bristled slightly, starting to hop from one foot to the other. Awkward. “You… are you actually together?”
“Yes, honey,” Your mother confirmed, still looking shocked. You scoffed.
“Okay, I really need to go, actually,” You gushed, turning around to leave the kitchen. “I’m- I’m going to my room. Really nice to meet you, Chan, really.” 
Shooting upstairs, you completely ignored your suitcase still leaking snow all over the hardwood floors and darted into your bedroom. It still looked exactly how you’d left it, band posters all over the walls and teddies littering the end of your bed. You threw yourself on top of the mattress, fingers yanking your phone out of your pocket and clicking the button on the most recent group call on FaceTime. Immediately, your college best friends picked up.
“There’s already a problem?” Felix scrunched his nose up, face way too close to the camera. Changbin was on the other side, face looking confused in the little square designated to him on your phone screen.
“I just met my mother’s boyfriend.”
“Oh, right, how did that go?” Changbin questioned, tilting his head to the side. You caught sight of your face in your own little square, flushed and appalled.
“He is thirty years of age, Changbin,” You began. Felix gasped, tiny hand moving to cover his mouth. “He is thirty years of age, and he is really fucking hot.”
“Oh my god,” Felix mumbled, muffled behind his hand. “Oh my god, you have to fuck him.”
Changbin choked on air. “She has to- No, Felix, no!”
“No, I can’t do that. It would be fucked up,” You mused. Or.. “Wait, would it even be that fucked up? He is closer to my age. I hate my mother.”
Felix’s hand fell, and he giggled before speaking in his trademark goblin voice - “Fuck him.”
“Don’t!” Changbin shrieked, his phone shaking in his hand. “I really think this is a bad idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Felix grinned, looking smug. “I’d do it.”
“There’s not a lot you wouldn’t do,” Changbin retorted. Felix stuck his tongue out at him. You, however, were silent, musing on the situation and staring at your wall. Could you do it? Changbin noticed, sighing. “Baby, please no.”
You licked your lips, nodding. You could do it. You wanted to do it - needed it, even. Those biceps were going to plague your life forever otherwise. “Operation fuck my mother’s boyfriend is a go.”
Felix screamed in delight. Changbin ended the call.
SATURDAY
It was time. Your mother was out at brunch with some friends, and you had plans to invade Chan’s personal space because you had a feeling he’d be too polite to tell you otherwise. You knew he’d set up the spare room as his own home studio, because your mother had delighted in telling you how Chan was a super successful music producer and was often tinkering away in there these days. You were going to let yourself in, try to get to know him a bit.
The knock you landed on the door was anything but subtle. Your fist rapped on the door and you heard a little hum in response, so you swung open the door, eyes landing on Chan hunched over his desk. He looked even younger like this, beanie pulled down over dark curls and headphones positioned on his head. He continued to stare at the file on his computer, head bobbing absentmindedly, so you strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.
He spun around on his computer chair, blinking confusedly at you. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi,” You beamed. “Sorry about last night. I was rude. I was feeling kinda weird, y’know, with the travelling.”
“No, I completely get it,” Chan put his hands up as if to diffuse the atmosphere. You nodded, still smiling. Chan stared at you when you didn’t respond instantly, and you crossed your hands behind your back, pressing against the plaid pattern of the dress you’d chosen for today. It was all part of the plan - the tight, short dress was perfect for seduction. He looked down at your chest, before clearing his throat, reverting his gaze to your eyes. “Um… did you need something, by the way?”
You gasped, as if remembering. “Oh, yeah! I did. My mother told me you were a music producer, and I was really curious. I was wondering if you’d show me some stuff…?”
It was Chan’s turn to smile, nodding excitedly. “Of course. Here, put these on.”
He linked two fingers around his headphones and handed them to you, to which you obediently put them over your ears. He was quieter now, but you could still slightly hear him mumbling as he found a spare chair for you to sit on. Your eyes scanned the files, eventually fixating on a file titled Drive. That one had to be dirty.
“Okay, so. I have this one, it’s my most recent one, and-”
“I want to listen to that one,” You cut him off, pointing at the song. When you turned to look at him, he was biting his lip nervously, pink tinting the ends of his ears and his cheeks. “What is it, Chan?”
“You- that one is a little, uh… heh. A little inappropriate.”
Unsurprisingly, you darted over his desk to grab the computer mouse and double click on the file. Chan squealed, but you ignored him, listening to the song. You were right. It was dirty, the two singers crooning about something that was a thinly-veiled innuendo about driving. It took you a second and then you clicked. One of them was Chan. This was Chan singing, on a song about sex. God, could he get any hotter?
You slid one of the ear cups off of your ear, turning to Chan with a shit eating grin. “This is you singing? You’re really good, Chan.” You weren’t lying. He was really good, and it had you wondering why he was a producer and not singing.
“Yeah, well, it was just an experimental track. Me and my mate were just messing around,” Chan mumbled shyly, hand scratching the back of his neck. You tried to avoid staring at the way his biceps tensed in his tight t-shirt at the movement. He was still blushing, but you had to kick it up a notch.
“It is kinda inappropriate, though, isn’t it?” You chirped excitedly. Chan’s lips parted, as if he was looking for something to say. His eyes stared into your own, piercing and dark and all-consuming. “I think you’re a little dirty, Channie.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrowed at your use of the nickname. “That’s- you can’t say that. That’s inappropriate.”
“What?” You feigned shock-horror. Play dumb. “I can’t call you Channie? Why not?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Chan groaned, pointing an accusing finger at you. You giggled anyway, jumping up and slipping the headphones back onto his head. You made sure to trail your fingertips down his neck after doing so. He shivered noticeably. You smiled.
“That was super good, Channie, thank you.”
You didn’t miss his groan of disbelief as you bounded out of the room. You had him, and it was easier than you’d expected it to be.
SUNDAY
Something was happening. You weren’t sure what, just yet, but something was happening. Chan was acting a little weird after what happened the day before, and you’d already caught Felix and Changbin up on the nonsense plan you had. 
“I think you need to accept that this is just down to you having a fat crush on him and severe daddy issues,” Changbin mused, and you gasped. He was right though. This wasn’t completely about getting back at your mother in a sick, twisted way. You wanted him.
Phase two of your plan was underway as soon as you caught sight of him on the sofa. He was watching some cheesy Christmas movie, your mother tinkering away in the kitchen - when had she ever cooked? - so it was prime seducing time. He had one of the thick throw blankets over his lap, fingers playing with the fluffy fabric absentmindedly. You hopped into the living room in your short pyjamas, frowning at Chan when you felt the goosebumps on your legs.
“Whatcha watching?” You asked, making him jump when he realised your presence. He smiled nonetheless, motioning to the seat next to him, and you took it. You perched and ensured that you left no room between you both.
“Some cheesy film. The woman’s marrying a prince, I think.”
“Sounds awful. I can’t wait to watch it,” You smiled, and Chan chuckled, relaxing on the sofa. You managed to make it five whole minutes before you were rubbing your hands up your legs, trying to create a semblance of warmth. 
Chan turned to you, frowning. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” You whined, pulling your legs up into your chest. “‘S cold in here, right?”
“C’mere,” He mumbled, reaching for the end of the blanket and throwing it over your lap. You hummed contentedly, inching a little closer under the guise of the cold weather. The blanket was warm. You were kind of jealous he’d been in such comfort this whole time while you’d been thinking of ways to get his cock inside your mouth. 
“Thanks, Channie,” Chan only nodded, continuing to watch the film. You had a feeling he was pretending to be so focused on it, given you weren’t sure he even knew the plot before your arrival. 
You squirmed on your seat, thrashing each way until you found yourself comfortable, hand splayed over Chan’s knee. He tensed under your touch. 
“You’re touching me, sweetheart,” He warned, his voice low and deep. You shivered, turning to him.
“Am I?”
“You are. You’re touching my leg underneath the blanket, aren’t you?”
You hummed. “Is that okay, Chan?”
Chan turned to you, his eyes not even holding any sign of shock. He knew what game you were playing, you realised, and maybe he was playing along. He licked his lips, head back against the sofa, and then he shrugged dismissively. 
“It doesn’t bother me.”
You left your hand there for the whole film. 
MONDAY
The showers at home were something you’d missed. The ones in college didn’t quite cut it - not even now that you lived with Changbin and Felix in your own student home. All three of you were young adults, after all, and that came with you being a little too messy.
At home, you didn’t have to worry about mess. Your mother had cleaners employed with your dad’s money anyway. Admittedly, you realised you were being a little spoiled, so you’d learned to clean up after yourself. The showers were still better, though. Bigger, and the water pressure hit you just right. 
Especially when you detached the shower head and pressed it to your clit. You felt pathetic. You’d only tried to seduce Chan for two fucking days, and there you were, legs shaking at the thought of him. Maybe it was the chase that got you feeling hot, or maybe it was the fact that you might actually be getting somewhere - you might actually be getting close to fucking him, muscles bulging as he ploughed into you. 
It had you pressing the shower head harder, your spare hand coming up to pinch your nipple. You whined, bucking your hips into the water stream. The steam was all over the bathroom by now, staining the shower with condensation and making your skin feel pruned and flushed. Or did you feel flushed from the thoughts of Chan? Maybe he’d fuck you the way you liked. He must have experience, you assumed, being a few years older than you. You thought about how he’d make you feel, how he’d touch you, and how you’d feel in his arms. You thought about how you’d feel when you came, and what it would be like to be with him. You wanted to feel him so badly.
Was he as big down there as he was everywhere else? Sure, he’s not too tall, but he’s every part a man. That much was clear. Would he bend you in half, pushing you into a mating press and fuck you raw the way you liked, cumming inside and letting you call him daddy and-
You wailed, legs trembling with one last buckle before you were cumming. You felt wet, too wet even just from the shower, and you belatedly realised you’d have to wash again. Ugh. This plan needed to end, like… yesterday. 
Coming out of the shower freshly washed, you wrapped a towel around your figure and checked the time on your phone. Your thumb slipped around the screen from the condensation in the bathroom, but the plan was going well. If you left the bathroom now, then hopefully Chan would be heading to bed, and he’d catch you in your towel. Ideally, he’d be so hot for you that he’d just have to have you, and then you could get the thoughts of him out of your head.
You burst out of the room in a flurry of steam and movement, almost tripping over your own feet when you noticed that it had actually fucking worked. Chan stood stock still at the other end of the hallway, his eyes fixated on the way the towel wrapped tightly around your chest, at risk of falling. You smiled, waving innocently, and he stalked towards you. He was seeing red. You could tell from the way he cornered you, crowding around you with the small advantage he had on your height.
“You need to stop this,” He mumbled, eyes looking at your mother’s bedroom door. He was playing a dangerous game. You were, too, and you both knew it. “I’m dating your mother. You need to stop this, sweetheart.”
“Stop what?” You tilted your head, acting confused. “I just had a shower.”
Chan scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking heard you in there.”
Oh. You couldn’t hide your smirk that time. “Yeah, I missed that shower head. Why were you perving on me, Chan?”
Chan rubbed his temples. He wasn’t wearing a beanie today, only a hoodie and baggy joggers. You liked it. You could see his hair like this, dark and curly and frizzy on his head. He looked cute. Wait, what?
He took a deep breath. His eyes moved to fixate on you, tongue running over his teeth. “Why would I be perving on you?”
“Oh, don’t lie,” You crossed your arms over your chest. Chan’s eyes moved down to stare at where your tits bulged over the towel. “I bet you stood there for ages, cock hard in your cute joggers, listening to me moan in the shower. That’s a little fucked up, no? Thinking about your girlfriend’s daughter like that-”
You were cut off by him pushing you to the wall, lips slamming into yours. He bit into your mouth instantly, letting out a deep groan and hands moving to grab your ass through the towel. You let your lips part in a whimper, pushing your tongue into his mouth and running your hands through his hair. It was a filthy exchange of tongue and teeth, and by the end of it, you were gasping, grabbing him by the waist and trying to pull him closer. You pulled away, breathing heavily and your eyes still locked on each other. You both stood there, not speaking, as you both processed what you had just done. You both knew it was wrong, but you wanted it so bad.
Chan stepped back, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
You watched in shock as he turned around, walking into your mother’s bedroom and leaving you there. You were wet again. This was getting ridiculous now. 
In your room, Felix screamed so loud you had to turn the volume down on your phone. Changbin choked on air again. 
TUESDAY
You hadn’t seen Chan all day. You presumed he was in his studio, working away on another track while your mother was in work. You were bored. Felix had been spending time with his family, and Changbin was out doing rich kid things that you could sympathise with. Thrashing around on your bed, annoyed and huffing, you decided you were just going to go and annoy Chan. It was your newly favourite pastime to get under his skin.
Stalking down the stairs to his studio, you paused when you heard a voice. Not just one voice, two voices. Was your mother there? No, no way. She never goes into that room, it’s his work room. You’d been in there though. You tried to suppress a grin at that realisation. 
The other voice was a man’s. Chan had a call on speakerphone, judging by the tinny effect covering the unknown male’s voice and Chan humming every so often. Who was the other man? A colleague, or just a friend?
“It’s fucking ridiculous, mate,” Chan groaned. You could barely hear him, and you held your breath, coming closer to the closed door. “I want her so bad, and it’s so wrong. I- I kissed her last night, Minho.”
There were a few yells from the other end of the phone. “You kissed her?! Chan, you fucking animal. You want her so bad, just fuck her. She’s clearly hoping that’s the outcome here.”
You grinned. You were.
“She’s- it’s outrageous. She walks around in practically nothing, and she’s got such a tight fucking body, man. She makes my dick so fucking hard, I’ve never felt anything like it before. Even when I met her, in the kitchen, she was-”
Chan cut himself off with a sigh. ‘Minho’ hummed, waiting for him to continue.
“She’s so bratty. She’s exactly the type of girl I would’ve gone for, before I met her mother.”
“Seriously?” Minho questioned, and Chan agreed. “You have to do it.”
“Minho-”
“No, Chan. I’m serious,” Minho’s voice was firm. “If she’s fucking you up this bad, you can’t have liked her mother that much, yeah? Just do it. You know it’s going to happen anyway.”
“It’s-” Chan began. You could imagine him rubbing his temples in distress behind the door. “She’s younger than me. I don’t want her to feel as though I’m taking advantage, y’know? The ball’s in her court.”
The ball has always been in your court.
“It sounds like she wants you to take advantage, to be honest,” Minho erupted in a fit of giggles, and you found yourself almost laughing along. Minho was annoyingly right. You only hoped he could get rid of that stick up Chan’s ass and get you a good dicking down.
It meant it was time for the next phase of your plan. You assumed Chan had wanted you, embarrassingly so, but you weren’t quite sure until he’d kissed you the day before. After hearing this conversation? Well, you had to do it.
You returned to your room, scribbling a quick note on a piece of paper. If Chan found this, which he would, it meant that he’d come to your room tomorrow night and you could maybe talk about what the fuck was going on. The sexual tension was too much for you, and now you knew he felt the same. Why were you beating around the bush? You had to make something out of this.
You ignored the stuttering of breath you heard when you slid the note under his door, and returned back to your room with a cocky grin.
WEDNESDAY
Chan hadn’t mentioned the note. You didn’t think he would, but you felt disappointed nonetheless. You’d woken up in the morning, eaten breakfast with him and your mother - cringing when he kissed her on the cheek when she left for work - and you’d even done the dishes yourself, letting him slip off to do some work in the studio. It was prime time for him to mention what you’d written, and he hadn’t. It was pissing you off.
Still, good things come to those who wait. You were confident. Felix had been egging you on all day over text, Changbin had been sending random upset emojis. It was perfect. 
Settling on your sheets at night, you felt a little pathetic. You’d lit a few candles, left the curtains just right on the window so that the moonlight billowed in, and Chan hadn’t arrived. Maybe he hadn’t received your note. No, there was no way - you practically heard his response through the door when he saw it slid under. He got the note. Perhaps you’d made him uncomfortable, made him withdraw from you despite all the progress you’d made. Why had you put in so much effort? You didn’t like him, not like that. Or did you? You felt ridiculous, almost like a child waiting for-
A knock on the door brought you out of your self-loathing thoughts, and you jumped up, swinging the bedroom door open. Chan immediately crowded inside of your bedroom, pressing the door shut softly. You stood there in silence, taking him in. He looked cosy, in a baggy hoodie and plaid pyjama bottoms. It was hard to believe he was dating your mother, especially when he looked so vulnerable like this - dark, curly hair still slightly wet from his shower, and his eyes blown wide with an unreadable emotion while he looked at you.
Chan sighed. “You’re really playing with fire. Do you know how this could look, me coming into your room at night? Do you know how wrong this is?”
You faltered. For the first time since meeting Chan, you felt as though he was angry at you. “I- I heard you on the phone, Channie. I thought you wanted me too.”
You watched in awe as Chan crossed your bedroom, groaning and throwing himself onto the bed. He was hard, erect in his bottoms. You blinked confusedly. He was hard just from being in here?
“I do want you,” Chan said, but it was muffled, hidden behind his hands that he had placed over his face in distress. He let them fall to his sides, staring up at the ceiling. “I want you so bad that it’s pissing me off beyond belief. I know what you’ve been doing too, trying to seduce me. It’s so pathetic it makes me feel hot, y’know?”
You giggled, following his journey across the room and settling next to him on the bed. You sat cross legged, comfortable in your long pyjamas. The candlelight flickered, casting a glow over his face, and he turned to look at you. He licked his lips, and then he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.
“This is ridiculous-”
“It’s ridiculous that you haven’t fucked me yet,” You responded, quick as a flash. Chan leaned up on his forearms, raising an eyebrow at you. Now was the time. You had to say it. “You know how bad I want you. I touched you up on the sofa, and you let me. You wanted me to, I think. Correct me if I’m wrong, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but-”
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, and you’re not wrong,” Chan admitted. You could see the blush on his cheeks despite the dimly lit room.  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I want you, too.” 
Chan shot across the bed, leaning in and kissing you deeply, his hands tangling in your hair. It made you wet beyond belief that he just felt like he knew what he was doing, hands travelling down to your waist to softly press you into the sheets. His tongue swept into your mouth, pressing against yours and you whimpered, making him groan into the kiss. When his hands went up to your hair, he intertwined his fingers in the strands and pulled, making you gasp and let out a heady, hot breath. He pulled away, lips parted when he stared at you. 
“You are such a horny little thing, it’s so hot,” He mumbled, lips pressing to your neck. He bit your skin sharply, making you keen and spread your legs, allowing him to position his hips between your thighs. The movement pressed his bulge into your core, and you tried not to shift and move your hips in a rhythm of pleasure. His fingers traced over your skin, and he chuckled, a low, sexy sound that made your heart race. He pulled back, leaning back on his legs and staring at you, eyes blown wide with lust. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
You paused. “What?”
“I want to know what you like. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow night. How’s that sound?” He was propositioning you, teasing you, and you were falling for it - hook, line and sinker. 
You gave him a nod. Right. Touching yourself for him - that was something you could do. This was just another Wednesday for you, you loved putting on a show, especially for a man who was rock hard and obviously desperate for you. But with Chan… why did you feel so fucking nervous all of a sudden? You'd spent your whole day waiting to fuck him, and he’d taken back the power, thrown a wrench into your plans.
You leaned back on your bed. How did you sit sexily? You were stuck in your own head.
Chan moved backwards, hand moving over his clothed erection. He’d spread his legs, thick thighs parted for you to see the promising bulge between them. "Pretend I'm not even here, sweetheart," he said, eyes blown wide with lust. You almost rolled your eyes. Easier said than done, when he was sitting there with his dark curls and his thick, kissable lips and his impossibly huge bulge. “Touch yourself like you’ve done before. Show me how you make yourself cum, and I’ll fuck you tomorrow, I promise.”
Fuck it. You'd never let an attractive man break you down yet, and that wasn't going to change. You nodded timidly, hands moving to grip your breasts through your shirt. It made you sigh, and Chan responded with a noise of his own when you impatiently rucked the fabric up to above your chest. Sucking two fingers into your mouth, you whined when you traced the wet digits around your pebbled peak teasingly. 
“Ah, ‘s- I’m sensitive there, Channie,” You mumbled, and he nodded as if he was making a note for it for later. You trailed your fingertips across your nipples, pinching and twisting them almost painfully just to make your hips cant up into thin air. You were too impatient to do this how you normally would, so you scratched your fingernails down your tummy and shoved a hand in your pyjama bottoms. You were met with slick, wet folds, fingers sliding around in the mess you made. 
“Show me,” Chan said, eyes trained on where your hand disappeared beneath the fabric. “Show me that pussy. You’re meant to be showing me everything, remember?”
“Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” You huffed, and Chan shook his head in disbelief, grinning. You were shocked to see he actually listened, though, pushing his joggers down to his thighs and letting his erection spring out. It was impossibly hard, pearlescent drops accumulating on his cockhead and you licked your lips subconsciously. “I wanna-”
“No,” Chan cut you off, hand moving to wrap around his cock in a tight fist. He was long, thick and heavy between his thighs and you felt your pussy clench sadly around nothing. “Show me your pussy. I’m not asking again, let me take a look at it.”
You whined, pushing your pyjama bottoms down to reveal your slick core. Your clit was swollen, throbbing with need just from a few kisses and Chan’s general presence, and you could feel a rivulet of wetness sliding down between your lips. Chan groaned in approval, hand quickening on his cock just slightly.
“Spread it, show me your hole,” Chan said, and you moved your thighs further apart for him. Reaching down with two fingers, you moved them into a v-shape and spread your folds for him. Your hole quivered under the inspection, leaking more wetness and Chan’s eyes were hyper fixated on it. “Oh, baby. That looks tight. Has no one ever fucked that little pussy right, huh? Tell me.”
“N-No,” You shook your head, thighs quivering when you finally let two fingers rub over your clit. You started with a blistering pace immediately, making your toes curl into the sheets and your back arch upwards. “No, I- it’s only boys from college, I don’t-”
“Ah, I see. You need someone older, yeah? More experienced?” Chan questioned, his breath coming out heavy with every tightly fisted movement on his cock. You whined, nodding, and then you were breaching your hole with two fingers immediately. The stretch made you groan, head falling back against the pillow. “Is that why you tried to seduce me, yeah? Wanted to have my cock stretching you out just right, wanted to call me daddy while I made you cry?”
God, he’d got it. He was right on the mark. “Yes, y-yes, I- I wanted to, oh, I wanted to call you daddy, and- and feel you inside me, and oh, Channie, please-” You cut yourself off with a moan, perhaps too loud as you curled your fingertips up against your g-spot. Chan threw his head back, letting out a grunt as he pinched his cockhead almost painfully. 
“Say it then, baby. What’s stopping you?” He polished the head of his cock, moaning before he took it into his tight grip again. His precum served as lubrication, his hand now making wet slick sounds on his thick length. You gasped when he moved his free hand to his balls, rubbing calloused fingertips over them and letting out his own gasp. “Beg me for my cock. I know you want it, look at you. Fuckin’ desperate, yeah? Beg daddy for his big cock.”
“Oh, daddy,” You whined, moving your free hand to rub over your clit. Everything was so wet, sliding around your pussy and you were honestly surprised you could feel anything - but it felt so fucking good, having him watch you like this, learning what you liked so he could replicate it. “Fuckin’- daddy, daddy, please, can I have it? Been good, doin’ what you asked, I- hnnng, daddy, oh my god-”
“No,” He smiled, a cocky grin while he rubbed one hand over his cock and the other over his heavy balls. “No, baby. Not tonight. Make yourself cum tonight, and daddy will help you tomorrow.”
“I- need more, need more, I-'' Chan surged over the bed, leaning over your figure to press his lips against yours. His tongue dominated your mouth again, and you could feel his closed fist hitting your stomach as he worked himself to his orgasm. The sensation had you whining against his plush lips, fingers thrusting quicker into your pussy and your other hand sliding around your clit messily. When he pulled away, lips digging into your bottom lip teasingly, his lips were quick to move to your neck to suck some dark purple marks into the skin. You felt yourself trembling, your body tense as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. Your fingers stroked your walls faster, pussy fluttering around your digits in delight, and your mouth opened in a gasp as you felt your body tense and tremble with pleasure. “I’m g’na- g’na cum, gonna cum, please, can I? Can I, daddy? Can I cum for you, please?”
“Yeah, baby,” He huffed, eyes rolling back into his head. He was practically drooling onto your skin, lips parted against your neck as you whined and thrashed on your bedsheets. “Cum for me. Been good for daddy, haven’t you? You can cum, baby, c’mon. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.”
You fell apart around your own fingers, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your thighs tensed with your orgasm, your pussy clenching down impossibly tighter around your hand and flooding down to your knuckles with your cum. You begged and pleaded, your voice a barely audible babble as your body shook with the sensation. 
Finally, when you’d just felt like you were coming down, Chan pulled your wrist away from your pussy. The movement left you empty, your walls still clenching down except now it was around nothing, and you whined, bottom lip quivering in need. 
“Hands off,” He sighed, hand slowing down on his cock. He was trying to last longer for something - you weren’t sure what, but you let your other hand drop from your clit obediently. “Daddy’s gonna cum on this wet little hole, baby, okay? You gonna let me cum here, mark you as mine?”
“Yes,” You moaned, nodding. You couldn’t think of anything better, actually. “‘M yours, I’m yours, daddy, gimme.”
“Dirty thing, perfect little girl,” He grunted, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your hole. With a few more movements, increasing in speed, you watched as his face screwed up in pleasure. His hips bucked, and with a final thrust, he came. You felt his cum drip down your hole as he groaned through his orgasm, thick white cum plastering your pussy. It was definitely the sexiest thing you’d experienced, but you still felt a little disappointed - why couldn’t he have just done it inside you?
“Wan’it,” You whined, pulling your legs back. Chan chuckled upon seeing the pout on your lips. “Why couldn’t you- in me, wanted it in me, daddy.” 
“Greedy bitch,” He mused, and then he was delving down to your core. Your mind went blank when his tongue licked fat stripes up your folds, collecting all of his cum and your wetness in his mouth. You briefly thought you could cum from this, very quickly judging by the way he knew what he was doing, but he simply leaned over you and grabbed your jaw. 
Oh. You let your lips part, tongue lolling out of your mouth obediently, and he spat the mixture of your cum into your mouth. You felt him lick into your mouth again, groaning at the taste of your pussy and his load. He smiled against your lips and pulled away, your eyes wide as you tried to process what had just happened. 
Chan’s lips curved in satisfaction at your state, your chest still heaving with a blotchy rash that bore the truth of what you’d been up to. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, and then he was standing up and leaving the room, bottoms barely pulled over his hips. You laid there, feeling an intense mix of pleasure and confusion.
What the fuck just happened?
THURSDAY
You hadn’t even processed what had happened last night. In all honesty, you’d run out of the house in the morning under the premise of a coffee date with friends you didn’t even have. You just sat in the cafe on call with Changbin and Felix and screamed way too loudly for a public area. The whole cafe knew of your predicament by the end of it.
Upon your return home, you’d beelined to your room and kicked the door shut as quietly as you could. Unfortunately, your foot slipped on the floor and you’d ended up face down with a groan.
Turning over onto your back, you huffed at the offending item that had caused your decline to the ground. A piece of paper met your eyes, neatly folded and written on with what looked like black Sharpie when you’d finally unravelled it.
Three words. Three words that changed your life and let you know that what occurred the night before had really happened. No, not ‘I love you’ - it was simple, a scrawled ‘your room, tonight’. It did happen. You touched yourself in front of Chan, and he was planning on coming back to your room to continue what you’d discussed.
You wanted to squeal and kick your feet, but beneath it all, you felt panicked. This plan had gone too far, and you’d perhaps started to think about spending time with your mother’s boyfriend - actual time, not just sexually charged meetings. It hurt a little bit, a pang in your chest when you remembered that what was happening really was just sexual. Your little arrangement being anything else just wasn’t fathomable.
Chan was interesting. He was a fucking music producer, for god’s sake. That was just straight up cool. That, and he was older than you - you did have raging daddy issues like your friends had said, after all. His friend had sounded funny on the phone, which meant he had to be funny, too. 
All things serious, you didn’t really know much about him, but you wanted to know. Felix had encouraged you to find out, and you felt like you owed it to him - or yourself, you weren’t sure. 
The knock on your door once the evening fell brought you out of your reverie. Chan didn’t wait for a response, swinging your bedroom door open and walking straight in as if he owned the house. You huffed at his demeanour, yet your eyes were still fixated on the way he walked over to your bed with intent. You threw your phone to the side. Felix would have to wait for your half-typed text message. 
“Back again so soon?” You quipped, and he raised an eyebrow. He was only in grey joggers, the thin material highlighting his thick dick imprint between his legs. The fabric hung low, showing off the body that you knew he worked so hard for. His chest was honey toned, yet covered in light, sparse freckles - you wanted to make yourself acquainted with every single one. You felt a little overdressed in just an oversized t-shirt and shorts.
Seeing the frustrated expression on your face, Chan’s own face fell. “Do you not want me here?” He said, voice no more than a whisper. “I can go, if you don’t want to see me tonight. I just thought-”
“I do,” You nodded, finally raising yourself from your position lying down to sitting up cross legged. Chan laid on the bed in front of you, one arm propping his head up. He gazed at you for a few moments, and you could see the relief in his eyes at your words. “I do want to see you tonight. I want to see you like… a lot. Don’t you think it’s weird though? I’m your girlfriend’s daughter, Chan, and we’ve kissed and- and done other stuff, and-”
He scooted over so that he was next to you, and you leaned into him subconsciously. He pulled you in with his arm around your shoulders, broad and muscled. You felt content, comfortable and most of all safe. It was a feeling you’d never felt before.
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Chan hummed, his chest vibrating beneath where you’d landed when he pulled you in. He chuckled, then, his hand moving to your hair comfortingly. “Okay, maybe it is a little weird. I’m just very interested in you. I know you heard me on the phone to Minho, and yes, you are my type - I want to know more about you. Like, even beneath the sexually charged tension, heh.”
Oh. You licked your lips, eyes fixated on a random spot in your wall. “You do?”
He nodded. “I do.”
You couldn’t help yourself. You raised your head, surging over Chan’s body to press a kiss to his lips. His hair was soft when you ran your hands through it, despite random curls getting caught in your nails and causing him to groan at the pain flooding through his scalp. His hands went to your waist, licking into your mouth while he effortlessly pulled you on top of him. The show of strength had you whimpering into the kiss, hands moving down to his jaw. It clenched and unclenched while he had full control over your mouth despite you being on top. 
You pulled away with a wet sigh, moving downwards to kiss at his neck. He groaned underneath his breath at the sensation of your lips on his skin. Your bed squeaked awkwardly as you moved down it, too quick for the old springs to handle. It felt naughty, kissing him like this in your childhood room - it felt even dirtier than the night before had, and you hadn’t done anything yet.
“I need you, Chan,” You whispered, nipping at his collarbone. “Need you. Please.” 
He gasped as he felt your tongue trace the outline of his collarbone. He flung one bicep over his dark eyes with a deep sigh, allowing you to kiss and bite all over his skin. He looked like he was trying to control himself. You didn’t want him to.
Your hips started to grind against him, and you placed your palms flat on his chest. Both of Chan’s hands moved back to your hips with a surprised noise, but he didn’t stop you. His dick was hardening in his joggers, and it was providing the best clothed friction to your aching, needy clit below your pyjama shorts. You saw how big it was before, yet the length of it still shocked you when you slid your clothed core up and down the shaft.
“Daddy,” You whined, hips starting to buck frantically. You were sure that you had never felt this needy in your life. “Daddy, daddy, I want you so bad. You turn me on so bad, make me feel so hot, please-”
“Baby,” Chan groaned, his head falling back against your pillows. The soft pink bed sheets juxtaposed completely with what you were doing, and juxtaposed completely with him - Chan, the muscled man with dark hair who wore black and grey clothes constantly. It was as if he was corrupting you, and he was in a sense, being so much older. “Baby, c’mere, come and lay on the bed. Let daddy eat you out, yeah?”
“No,” You shook your head, hips still moving on his erection. Chan’s chest had started to accumulate a thin layer of dewy sweat, slick on his skin and making you want to lick it off. “I want your cock. I don’t wanna wait, I don’t wanna wait, please, just put it in, I’m wet enough, I promise.”
He knew you were babbling, incoherent in your haze of lust, but he still entertained you enough anyway. You spread your legs wider when his hand met your thigh, and then he was pushing two fingers beneath your shorts. He was met with your slick folds, and you gasped at feeling the touch of his fingertips, calloused from years of working with music.
“Oh, fucking hell. Dirty girl, dirty fuckin’ girl,” Chan moaned, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. “This pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, baby. All we did was kiss. Are you that much of a slut for me? Are you that much of a slut for your mother’s boyfriend? That’s filthy.”
“Yes!” You wailed, nodding. You reached down, canting your hips backwards a little bit so you could spread your thighs wider before hooking your fingers in your shorts and pulling them to the side. The movement revealed your pussy, clit swollen at the top of soaking wet folds, covering your drippy hole. “I wan’it so bad, so bad, so bad, please, please. Just push it in, make it hurt, I don’t care-”
Chan shoved the fingers of his spare hand between your parted lips, effectively shutting you up. “Shut up. You’ve got to prove to me you deserve it, baby.”
With those words, he was pushing a finger past your entrance. It breached your hole easily, the digit sliding through your wetness and curving up past your g-spot. Chan shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and shock, and then he was pulling his finger out. With a quick movement, he’d yanked his joggers down and let his cock spring out. The coarse hair was trimmed above his long, thick shaft and you couldn’t help but imagine the type of friction that would give your clit - you couldn’t wait.
“You were right. That slutty pussy is wet enough,” He mused, pulling your hips over his bare cock. Your pyjama shorts were slightly in the way, and you pulled them aside even more, letting your folds leave wetness over his shaft. “Lower yourself on it. Stretch yourself out. Slowly.”
You did as he asked, lowering your body onto his length. You felt the stretch immediately. You moaned, loud and ringing off of your walls. You didn’t give a shit if your mother heard. Fuck, you needed this. You wanted to bounce all over his cock until there was nothing left and your hole could do nothing but remember the tight fit. Trying to sit down quicker, Chan grabbed your hips, stopping you while only half his length was in you.
“You're gonna hurt yourself like that, sweetheart. That hole is so tight around me.”
“Please, daddy,” Your head fell into the nape of his neck. You wriggled yourself in his tight hold, trying to get more of his length in your pussy. He shook his head against you, chuckling.
“You want it? Fine, but don't fucking cry to me when it hurts,” Chan said, letting go of your ass. You realised he'd been holding you up, and within a millisecond you'd slammed down onto him. You wanted to scream, the stretch more than you could take. He laughed again, raising his eyebrows at you mockingly. “Too big?”
"N-No, perfect," You retorted. He moaned, spreading his legs and placing his feet flat on the mattress. More. More. Fucking more. You began to raise on him, expecting to ride that perfect cock, but he started to thrust up into you at an unrelenting place straight away, his balls slapping against your ass. You moaned incoherently, almost babbling, hands digging into his toned biceps. He leaned up to nip at your neck, and then he was pulling your t-shirt off of your body.
“No fucking bra?” Chan laughed in disbelief. His mouth went straight to your nipples, biting and sucking on the hard peaks. You jostled on his lap with his thrusts. You wanted to rub your clit, but you felt like he probably wouldn't let you. “Knew you were fucking filthy, sweetheart. You didn't even care about me going raw, did you? You want my load in that dirty hole. And now I find out these pretty tits were only one layer away from me…”
His voice trailed off. You whined, leaning down to try and kiss him again. He shoved his two fingers back in your mouth, making you suck on them. His bruising sucks caused your nipples to hurt, and you fucking loved it. You knew he was marking you up and you'd just have to deal with it.
You tried to start riding him. He didn't let you, manhandling you off of his cock.
“Daddy!” You whined in protest. Chan chuckled. He lifted you and manhandled you so your back was facing him on your bed, and you immediately repositioned yourself so you were face down, ass up. He reentered you in one swift thrust, causing you to jolt in surprise.
“Fucking tight pussy,” He groaned, thrusting into you with the same vigor as before. You almost screamed, but managed to just moan incoherently. The mattress creaked, the sound of old springs ringing around the room. “Fucking dirty hole. Listen to that, sweetheart. Can you hear how wet your cunt is for daddy's cock? For your mother’s boyfriend’s cock?”
You tried to stop whining and moaning to hear what he was pointing out to you, hearing wet slaps. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, fingernails digging into the mattress. You knew you were dripping for a fact now. You could hear it, you could hear everything, his balls slapping against your clit as well as the wet noise of his heavy cock reentering you. 
You threw your ass back against him, trying to get the tip to hit that special spot inside of you. 
“I think that asshole needs me too, sweetheart,” Chan laughed mirthlessly, his hands resting firmly on your ass, encouraging your bouncing. You moaned in response, clenching your pussy tight. He was going to ruin you for everyone. You'd have to just keep coming back for more. “You want daddy's finger in there? You want me to finger your asshole?”
Oh, yes. “Please, daddy, need to be full,” You said, wiggling your hips against him. You vaguely registered him reaching around you and making you suck on the fingers that had previously been in your mouth. He was going to fill both of your holes, and he moaned loudly at the sight of you sucking his fingers. There was no way that the whole house hadn’t heard you both by now. You hoped they were sleeping.
You sighed in ecstasy, feeling the fingers begin to move inside your ass. His thrusting was now hitting your g-spot in your pussy, given the added pressure from being full in both holes. You felt the orgasm finally begin to build. You liked the way he wasn't rushing you to cum, not like those younger college boys. He was taking care of you and just having good fucking sex. “Feels so fucking good, daddy. Feels so good.”
You were now semi-incoherent, your words all joining together in one long moan. Chan loved it, judging by his moans. His cock was pulsing inside you. You wondered if he was close. You wanted him to fill you up to the point where it was dripping out of you. 
He pulled out of you again, grabbing your leg with one strong hand and flipping you onto your back. You were out of breath from the exertion, despite him doing all the work, and he looked fully composed save for the thin sheen of sweat on his body.
“Feels good, baby?” He asked, looming above you. You squirmed feeling your sweaty back rubbing against the blanket uncomfortably, but you nodded anyway. You wanted to please him. He looked down at your writhing body, letting out another groan. “So fucking sexy. You don’t know how much you fucking killed me, teasing me like that. Touch that pussy for me again, show me.”
He started pumping his shaft quickly, still staring down at you. You reached down with one hand and immediately pressed two fingers against your entrance, collecting the slick gathering outside before diving straight in. You curled your fingers against that spot inside of you, whining out. It wasn't enough. Not after having that fat cock in you. He definitely had ruined you for everyone else, including yourself. Nothing was ever going to feel the same again. 
“Mmm. Looks so wet, sweetheart. Daddy wants a taste, is that okay?” Chan questioned, moving back onto his knees. You pulled your fingers out and tried not to cry at the loss.
“Please, daddy. Wanna cum in your mouth,” You slurred out, pushing his head towards you. He moaned into your pussy, taking his fat tongue and licking one wet stripe up your slit. He pulled your pussy back, exposing that throbbing clit to him, and placed one lick directly onto your button. "Fuck, daddy, feels so good! Suck it, please, suck it. I - please - need to cum so bad!"
“Need to cum, huh, sweetheart? I'll make your little pussy throb for me and then I'm putting my cock right back in that tight hole, where it belongs,” He spoke. He thrust two fingers into your slit, much thicker and longer than yours. You spread your legs, holding them up against your chest. You literally almost purred when he started moving his fingers, curling them up into that spot and sucking on your clit whilst he did so. It wasn't going to take long. The man was clearly amazing at every part of sex. 
You focused on the feeling of his wet tongue rubbing up against your clit and writhed, feeling closer and closer to the edge. He knew what he was fucking doing. Your thighs started to shake, taking everything in you not to just let them go from your hold and clutch around Chan’s head. You wanted him to permanently live between your thighs. Your eyes clenched shut, a deep sigh leaving you. 
“Fuck, I'm g’na cum,” You mumbled out, chest heaving and flushed a shade of crimson. Chan pulled away, causing you to whine. You pouted, reaching up to grab his shoulders. "No, no! You said I could. You said you would help me.”
“What I said was that I'd make it throb for you and then I'm sliding back right in here, sweetheart. Be good for daddy, you'll get to cum,” He positioned his length at your core again, sliding right back into home. You both moaned, and he was fucking you in a mating press this time, almost as if you were a couple in love. You wished you were, and realised this was definitely your favourite position so far. The man fucked like an animal and now he was fucking you like he was going to breed you, and you loved it. He reached down with one hand to rub your clit rapidly, trying to bring you to the edge. “This is my fucking pussy. My favourite fucking pussy, my only girl, the only pussy for me, okay?”
“Fuck!” You cried of overstimulation, hands still wrapped around your legs. “G’na... getting close again, gonna-”
“Cum then, sweetheart, flood my cock. Make a mess for me, come on, do it," Chris encouraged, breathing heavily next to your ear. His eyes were focused on where he was entering you over and over again, taking note of the white ring of slick that had formed around the base of his cock, soaking the hair that rested there. You scrunched your eyes shut, feeling overwhelmed with bliss. “That's it. That's my good girl.”
White hot ecstasy overtook your body. You wanted to squirm, but with the pressure of the muscular man on top of your body, you had nowhere to go. You focused on the feeling of his slick chest rubbing against your sensitive nipples, whining and moaning as the orgasm coursed through your body and made it feel like you were being electrocuted. 
“Fucking clenching on my cock, shit,” Chan groaned, his hand falling away from your clit once your breathing had began to calm slightly. His hands went down to grab your hips, and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips up and fucking you senseless, treating you like a toy. “W-Wanted to be soft with you for our first time, sweetheart. I'm not normally like this, not at all, but this fucking pussy is driving me insane, fuck... I need to fill you up. Will you let daddy fill that pussy with my cum, sweetheart? Let me breed you, make you mine?”
You nodded quickly, unable to speak at this point. Your hole felt raw, sensitive and fucked open, but you needed his cum in you. You thought you might die if you didn't get it soon. His tip jabbed into your g spot incessantly, almost causing you to cum again, but you subconsciously knew you couldn't take another orgasm at the same level as the previous one. You might die. 
“Fucking- g’na breed you, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine. G-Gonna give you a baby, g’na fill you up, fuck!”
With an animalistic growl, Chan’s head dropped to your neck, biting into the skin there and definitely leaving a mark. You felt his hips still and cum flooded out of the tip of his length, flooding your hole with a new sense of wetness. You sighed with content and laid there until Chan’s breathing calmed, his body weight fully on top of you and yet not uncomfortable. 
“I have to be honest about something,” Chan sighed. You looked up at him from your position on his chest, and he looked down at you with an apprehensive look. He looked a lot shyer than he did moments before, when he was fucking you senseless and calling you a slut - he was blushing now, embarrassed. You were sure that’s what you liked about him. “You’re- it’s like you were made for me. I don’t know what the fuck to do, heh. I’m falling for you, I think.”
You blinked, leaning up to rest inches away from his face. Got him. You’d got him. “Well, that’s okay, Chan. You’re closer to my age anyway, right?”
6K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 months
Note
Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕
thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k
“Spencer?” 
Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?” 
“Is this okay?” 
You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt. 
The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.  
“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin. 
You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.” 
Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing.  “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush. 
“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say. 
“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.” 
You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.” 
“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours. 
“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says. 
“What if we have a case?” 
“That’s a better reason to go shopping.” 
You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?” 
Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says. 
“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.
“You really are glowing.” 
“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place. 
“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.” 
“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek. 
You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing. 
You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time. 
“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks. 
You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness. 
He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home. 
“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed. 
“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says. 
You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk. 
“Yes,” Spencer says. 
You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.” 
“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly. 
You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek. 
“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen. 
You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles. 
“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”
She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs. 
You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another. 
Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee. 
You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room. 
“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan. 
“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says. 
“Or not,” JJ says with a frown. 
“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.” 
You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time. 
“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.” 
“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks. 
No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?” 
“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.
“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin. 
“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.” 
You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately. 
“And what’s with the water?”
Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?” 
“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts. 
That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field. 
You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too. 
You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to. 
“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.” 
“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?” 
“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished. 
You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask. 
The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide. 
Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively. 
You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.” 
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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[Zoro is jealous of how impressed you are with another man's strength. A few insults and broken breezeblocks later, he makes sure he's the only man you have eyes on.]
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Roronoa Zoro is a man too busy to boast. He perceives his skills and attributes as a means to an end and not a goal in itself; achieving unmatched swordsmanship is but a method of becoming the world's greatest swordsman.
It's completely useless to waste one's potential only to earn fame and admiration. If one sees their abilities as a goal, they tend to abandon their growth once the goal is achieved, never discovering what they can really do. Therefore, boasting is a manmade border between the current state of things and the wonderful possibilities.
Or so he tells himself.
The crowd cheers again as the blue-haired boy breaks another stack of planks. Each time he adds one more obstacle, the mob of onlookers is sure that this time, he's bound to fail. They've been wrong so far.
Zoro and you have been watching the show from affair but only because you refused to walk away. Sure, on your adventures you have seen people or unimaginable skills and attributes. Nevertheless, the man on the makeshift stage is just that - a man. No Devil Fruit, no canons-for-arms or anything of this sort. Just a person with determination and years of practice.
"Damn, that's some strength," you say in awe. "It's amazing."
Zoro only scoffs, scowling while he stands with his arms crossed. "Come on, this is nothing."
"Oh, right, breaking a stack of five wooden planks with your bare fist is just a regular Tuesday, eh?"
"Definitely not for a twig like him," he answers while still glaring at the boastful plank-breaker. "A gust of wind could break his bones."
Something about his huffing and puffing doesn't sit right with you. After all, why does he care in the first place? Zoro is not the kind of person to be interested in things that are not directly connected to him. It's almost as if...
Is he jealous of the attention?
"You know what, Zoro?" When you turn to look at him, he notices the challenging glint in your eyes. You're up to no good, aren't you? "I'd love to see you try and break even one plank."
He scoffs again but this time he looks almost offended at the implication. "I wouldn't even get out of bed for one."
"That's not a good measure." You shake your head decisively. "It's already hard to make you get up." Then, an idea sparks in your thoughts - something he's sure not to reject. "Let's do it like this. If you can one-up that guy, I'll do whatever you want."
Zoro's brown eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. He seems to be trying to guess how serious you are about your promise. "Anything goes?" he asks suspiciously.
"Nothing that will tarnish my dignity." As a warning, you point your finger at him. "Or dirty my shirt."
Then, to your utmost satisfaction, he gives you a smirk beaming with confidence.
"You're going to regret this."
"I hope so," you answer.
He clenches his jaw at your frivolous tone, his mind racing in a thousand different directions at once. What do you mean you "hope to regret" your wager? What exactly do you think he'll ask of you?
No matter the answers to his questions, Zoro has found a new source of motivation inside him. He can ask anything. As nice as that sounds, and he's sure to let his imagination run amok, the more satisfying prize will be the look of awe you're bound to give him. If you're impressed with this boastful twig of a man, how dazzled will you be with Zoro when he beats him? Maybe you'll finally stop looking at other men like they're actually worth even a second of your time or a speck of your attention.
"Hey, wood boy!" Zoro exclaims at the top of his lungs while making his way through the excited crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Let's see who's stronger."
"A brave challenger appears!" The blue-haired man announces. Whispers erupt among the onlookers. "Or maybe he's stupid?" he directs his question at his fans. Then, when Zoro enters the stage, the man looks at him with a feeling of superiority smeared across his face. "I'll have you know, I'm the local champion."
Up close, the blue-haired man looks even less impressive than from the ground. He's rather scrawny compared to men of similar strength and he could definitely use a long bath. Zoro is almost offended that you'd look at this poser of a clown instead of him.
"Only local?" Zoro asks. He erupts in laughter, making his opponent's expression visibly falter. "Not much of a title. I've seen rocks bigger than this island."
The whispers turn into loud conversations as half of the crowd demands Zoro to take back his words and the other half begs for a showdown to see who's the true master between them.
"Ambitious!" the blue-haired man exclaims with fake casualness, clearly trying to hide his own uneasiness. "That's what I like to see. But I must warn you that breaking wood with the sheer power of your bare fist is neither easy nor simple. Are you sure you can manage?"
Zoro laughs again. His posture only grows with confidence while the other man seems to be becoming smaller with each of Zoro's insults. "Wood is for children."
The blue-haired man swallows nervously. Sweat trickles down his neck. "Alright then." He clasps his hands together, rubbing them to ease the arousing tension. "What do you propose?"
"Breezeblocks."
The crowd audibly gasps and you're not any different. To break something that can render someone unconscious, if not dead, without having to use much strength? Even for someone like Zoro, the suggestion seems more than audacious. True, you wanted to see him prove his bold talk but not break his hands.
But before the blue-haired man can protest or diverge the discussion, a group of eager men bring a load of breezeblocks on stage. Their eyes shine with impatience and desire to see uncommon strength as they take away the wooden boards and set up the first breezeblock for each of them to break. The hollow bricks are placed atop regular, clay bricks that the blue-haired man has used to lay the planks on.
With a light gesture of his hand, Zoro allows the apparent master to begin. The man stretches his arms and cracks his joints. Despite being visibly experienced in this art, there is a noticeable nervousness in his movements, too. As though he's not as confident as he was five minutes ago.
Measuring one or two times beforehand, the local champion slams his fists on the breezeblock. A muffled thud resounds and the crowd falls silent. Then, a loud grunt fills the tense air but not a speck of cement is lifted. The breeze block did not break but considering the agony on the man's face and the deep red of his hand, something surely did break.
Zoro laughs for the third time. Strangely enough, he seems almost suspiciously laid-back. He reaches for the blue-haired man's unbroken breezeblock and places it atop his. If the crowd was silent before, it's deathly quiet now. They don't even dare breathe, awaiting the resolution of this unforeseen wager.
His eyes meet yours and never stray as he punches the stack of breezeblock. They break, fall and crumble on the stagefloor. Zoro doesn't look phased in any way, nor does his hand look to be injured. Judging by his casual attitude, he can easily break a lot more than just two breezeblocks. Maybe one day he'll find out but not at the moment - that's not the point of his little show of strength.
Some people try to accost him or talk to him as he makes his way back to you but Zoro's usual glares and silence quickly mitigate their enthusiasm and soon the mob of onlookers just cheers among themselves.
"Alright, I'm impressed," you admit with a nod. "In capital letters."
"So, anything I want, huh?" He can't help the smile curving his lips. It's a big word that you've used - a little too big for Zoro's imagination because it too happily strayed in directions that might break his heart permanently if you reject him.
"I suppose you do deserve compensation for holding yet another title of a champion. The dreadful weight of success," you say in a dramatic tone. "Now, what is this 'anything' you've decided on?"
Truthfully, he hasn't decided yet. If this "more than friends, less than lovers" situation he has with you was a game of chess, he's just made his opening move. You played back and put him in a place where there are simply too many options to reconsider. So what choice does he have to make to have you in a checkmate?
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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i’ve been meaning to request this for awhile because i love the idea, what if poly!marauders x animagus!reader and reader’s animal counter part is a raccoon so they call reader bandit as their nickname for the group. and maybe reader naturally has dark circles under their eyes and they prefer to be awake at night? maybe they steal little tokens from their partners like rings and shirts all the time too lol. idk if this interests you but if so i’d love to read it babes! -🌶️
Hi Pepper! This was my first attempt at writing animagus!reader and it felt a bit clumsy but I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting my love <3
poly!marauders x animagus!reader ♡ 742 words
“Where are they?” Sirius asks, stalking into the common room. 
Remus doesn’t look up from his book, not needing to wonder who Sirius is asking about. “They crashed right after class.” He glances out the window. “But it’s almost dark, they should be up soon. Missing something?”
“My rings.” Sirius holds up ten bare fingers. “Took them off to shower after class, and now they’re gone.” 
“Ew,” James says, coming in with two cups of tea. He passes one to Remus, handle first. “It’s like you’re naked.” 
Sirius harrumphs. “You wish, Prongs.” 
“Have you tried checking their stash?” Remus asks, flipping his page. 
Both James and Sirius look at him quizzically. “You know where it is?” 
Remus sighs. His bones creak and pop as he stands. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you.” 
Your boyfriends mostly stay out of their dorm during the day because it’s so quiet and dreary. You’ve got all the curtains drawn shut, not even the tiniest ray of sunlight allowed to permeate your den, and you’ve burrowed underneath the covers of your bed for good measure. Remus leads the boys to the top corner of your bed, pointing to what appears to be a pile of shirts you’ve stowed behind the bedpost. 
James crouches bemusedly, but at Remus’ nod, he pulls the top shirt aside. Sirius sees the glint of metal and drops to his haunches beside James, looking at the treasures you’ve nestled within the pile of shirts. He curses quietly, gathering the rings he’d been wearing that morning along with some he hadn’t seen for months. They clink together in his palm, and not a second later, he and James look up at the sound of rustling sheets. 
Your face emerges from beneath the covers, and Sirius thinks amusedly that it’s almost like you’re peering out from the mouth of a very plush cave. “What’re you doing?” you ask, words slurred together with sleep. Less so when your eyes narrow on the rings in Sirius’ hand. “Those are mine.” 
Sirius can’t help it; he laughs, and you glare at him (you’re really not as intimidating as you’d like to think, even with the darkness that rings your eyes and makes you look like a cartoon villain). “Oh, are they?” he asks you. “I seem to recall purchasing them some time ago.” 
“Since when did you purchase them?” James asks, rising from his crouch to sit next to you on the bed. He pets your hair, and you relax as if you might go back to sleep, though you’re still tracking Sirius’ hand with watchful eyes. “You told me you stole them from your mum.” 
“Well,” Sirius huffs. “Finders keepers.” 
“Exactly,” you say grouchily. “So put them back.” 
“Sorry, Bandit.” Sirius drops a conciliatory kiss on your temple as he slides a few of the rings on and stows the others in his pocket. “I found ‘em this time. Anyway, at least when I steal things, I actually use them. Keeping them stashed under your bed is criminal.” 
You grumble, but you can’t rally much resentment with James’ fingernails scratching at your scalp so pleasantly. 
“I think they do it to feel close to us,” Remus muses, giving you an appraising look. You won’t meet his eyes. “I mean, they’ve got your rings under there, Pads, and one of Prongs’ old necklaces, and some of my sweaters.” James coos as you sink further back into your burrow, and Remus smiles. “Did I get that right, sweetheart?” 
Sirius knows that tone. Remus is laying it on thick and extra sweet, trying to get you to squirm. And it’s working; you won’t look up from where you’re toying with the hem of the sheets, but your face takes on a pinkish hue. You start tearing the edge of your sheet into little strips between your fingers. 
“Oi.” James takes your hand prisoner in his. “Don’t start on that, we’ve already had to replace all the curtains.” 
“Is that true, baby?” Sirius wheedles, giving you his most saccharine smile. “Do you take our things because you love us?” 
You huff, your embarrassment revealed by the way you begin playing with James’ fingers. “Obviously I love you. You know that already. And you have nice things, so think whatever you want.” 
Remus chuckles. “Alright, we will.” 
“I can’t believe it.” Sirius looks down at you, raising an eyebrow when you glare. “Our Bandit’s a thief with a heart of gold.”
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urhoneycombwitch · 13 days
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my baby puts his mouth on me
foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events. anon request can b found here 💖
wc: 2.2k
cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 
___
Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.
So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.
You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 
“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”
”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”
You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 
For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).
Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”
“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”
With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.
In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.
“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”
“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.
“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.
Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it.”
He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nibble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.
“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”
Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.
“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.
Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.
On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.
“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”
Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.
There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.
���Hey.” 
There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.
Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”
His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.
“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”
It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.
“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”
Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 
You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.
The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”
As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-
“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 
The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.
There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 
“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”
“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.
His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-
“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 
You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 
What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.
A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.
But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 
The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.
“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”
A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.
There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 
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talaok · 7 months
Text
Mornin', Birthday girl
Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader
Summary: it's your birthday, and Joel and your daughters have planned the perfect morning
Warnings: A bunch of overly fluffy smut (cause, as we've established, im delusional): Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie.
a/n: Guess what, it's my b-day!!! And since I'm delulu I wrote myself a little birthday fic as a present (the fact that this is not my real life is such bullshit tbh) and i thought why not post it on here? maybe today's someone else's birthday too and that would be a nice surprise for them, no?
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Sleep was still holding you captive when Joel started positioning himself, making the bed creak with his every movement and cussing internally each time, until finally, he was where he needed to be, right between your thighs.
And what a place to be.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched you peacefully sleeping, your mouth slightly parted, your chest slowly rising and falling... You looked like an angel even when asleep, and his heart filled with that warmth only you knew how to create.
But enough of that, he had to get to work before you woke up.
He gingerly placed his hands on the outer side of your thighs, before slowly, oh so slowly, leaning down to start a trail of small kisses from your navel down to your clit, feeling your body react to his every move.
You still hadn't woken when he glanced up, so for good measure, he flattened his tongue and licked your whole slit like an ice cream cone, and like clockwork, your eyes snapped open.
"b-baby?" your voice was more of a whisper as you finally found the source of your sudden awakening.
"Good mornin', birthday girl" Joel murmured, wasting no time before bending down to taste you again.
"oh my god" you whimpered, having woken from a dream just to get thrown into a new one.
Good morning indeed
"I might just get used to this" A breathy chuckle left your lips, as he licked and sucked your cunt like it was his duty.
"Oh yeah?" the vibrations of his voice made a shiver run up your spine as he answered "I might too" he smirked "I'll just start having you for breakfast"
Your ability to tease and speak quickly disappeared when two of his thick digits plunged into your heat.
"Oh f-fuck" you choked, your hand quickly reaching for his locks to have something to hold onto as he started curling and moving his fingers inside of you, and his mouth closed on your bud to suck on it greedily.
"O-Oh- baby" your back arched from the bed, as he groaned at the feel of your walls tightening around him.
"fuck, you're delicious darlin'"
but you could only hum a low "Oh god" as your legs wrapped around him and your hips started desperately grinding on his face of their own accord.
It didn't take long before your orgasm was approaching, and your legs were shaking.
"C'mon mama" he murmured "Give it to me"
And that's all you needed.
Joel watched hypnotized as you threw your head back, your left hand going to your tits as your right hand gripped his hair for dear life.
He didn't stop, letting you ride out your high until your breathing had become more even, and your fingers in his hair had relaxed.
A soft smile pulled at his lips as he crawled up to meet his lips with yours in a sweet kiss.
"Happy birthday, sugar" he beamed
"thank you, baby" you whispered, one of your hands reaching for his cheek to guide him down for another kiss.
And as the kiss grew hotter, and his hands started roaming every inch of your body, you reached for the bulge in his boxers you could feel rubbing against you.
He groaned into your mouth as you freed his cock and started slowly pumping it.
"fuck" he breathed, leaning down to reserve some attention for your neck "Today's only about you, darlin'" he murmured to your ear, as he took his dick from your hand "let me take care of my wife like she deserves"
You beamed happily at his words, closing your eyes as you felt him position his tip at your entrance until-
"wait" your eyes widened
"what, sugar?"
"is the door locked?"
Joel grinned "Yeah sweetheart"
"oh" you breathed a sigh of relief "ok"
You learned the hard, and very embarrassing way, the importance of a lock to your bedroom door when having two incredibly nosy children.
You tried to get back to your previous excitement when you heard a faint buzz coming from outside your room.
"Is that...music?"
Joel's head fell to your shoulder in frustration as a soft chuckle fled his throat
"It is" he answered, kissing your neck "I told the girls to put on some music"
You frowned "Why?"
A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned up to look at you.
"So that you can make all those pretty sounds you love to make"
Your mouth opened to say something, but all you could do was grin like an idiot.
"You're the perfect man, Joel Miller"
"mh" he considered, kissing the corner of your mouth as he got back to positioning his manhood to your entrance "Only 'cause you're the perfect woman, sweetheart"
And with one slow thrust, he was filling you to the brim, and for once, you could cry out like you always wanted to.
"Jesus Christ" he groaned into your neck "always so tight f'me sugar"
"oh my god" you moaned, as he started to move, finding a slow but, oh so fucking deep pace that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"I love you so much baby" he breathed, as he hit that spongey spot inside of you with each thrust "I don't know what I did to deserve you, but-" he paused to take a breather as your pussy squeezed him so good it was getting hard to breathe "but christ darlin' I'm thankful for you every day"
"J-Joel" you whimpered as your eyes watered and your hands clawed at his back "I love you too, baby" you promised, "I love you so so much" you murmured, nestling your face in his hair as your breathing got more and more ragged, and the mixture of his lips on your skin and his cock deep inside you started to get too much.
The bed was creaking with every thrust, and the sound of his skin meeting with yours was filling the room, but your hearing had become fainter... like you were still dreaming and the only real thing was Joel's broad body hovering over yours, and your impending orgasm
"o-oh god" you cried,
"let go baby" he murmured, sucking on a spot just beneath your ear as he kept pounding you like he wanted to split you in half "Come for me"
And that was it. Your vision went blank and the world went mute for a minute as a wave of pure pleasure took over your entire body.
Joel kept going, trying to last as much as he could for you, but once you let out yet another breathy moan resembling his name, he couldn't do it anymore, and filled you up completely with his cum.
Silence spread as you both tried to learn how to breathe again, but after a good minute, Joel finally reemerged from the crook of your neck to kiss your lips.
"Let me clean you up" he spoke, pulling out of you and walking into the bathroom "I think breakfast is almost ready"
You nodded mindlessly, too fucked out to realize what he'd just said, until, as he reappeared from the bathroom with a wet cloth in his hand, you finally realized.
"Breakfast?"
__ __ __
"Happy birthday mommy!" Your youngest, Eva, came running towards you as soon as you stepped into the kitchen to hug you as tight as she could.
"Happy birthday Mom!" Sarah smiled, joining the hug just a moment after as Joel stumbled into the room to watch the scene unfold.
You bashed in the warmth of their embrace for a moment, before coming back to earth.
"thank you, babies" you murmured, stroking their backs with your thumb as a gigantic smile spread on your face.
"We made breakfast!" Eva announced as they both leaned away.
"You did?"
"We made birthday pancakes" Sarah explained, pointing at a plate stacked with them.
"Like you do!" Eva chirped
And your words got stuck in your throat as you took everything in.
They did all that. Just for you. Your two beautiful daughters.
"I-" you stuttered, as your eyes started to water.
"You did all that on your own?"
"yup!" 
A tear ran down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away.
"mommy, why are you crying?" Eva asked, concerned "daddy, why's mommy crying? Did we do something wrong?"
"N-no baby, you did nothing wrong" you smiled, as other tears fell from your eyes
"I think mommy's crying 'cause she's happy babygirl" Joel explained, coming in to help.
"Oh" her eyes widened "Are you, mom?"
"yes baby" you reassured her, crouching down to their level to be able to hug them again. "You're the most amazing daughters in the whole world, you know that?" you smiled, soaking in their scent "And I love you more than anything"
"go sit down now" you urged, getting back up as they ran to the table, clearly eager to eat their own creation.
But as they did, your eyes couldn't help but focus on the kitchen.
It was a complete mess.
"I'll clean it up, don't worry" Joel spoke, meeting you by your side, and taking your hand in his.
You smiled for what felt like the millionth time this morning.
"thank you" you beamed "for everything"
"It's the least I could do" he shook his head, leaning in to tenderly kiss you 
And as much as you were enjoying the kiss, you couldn't help but laugh as you heard the comments it was eliciting from the audience.
"Ew," Eva groaned, making a disgusted face.
"gross" Sarah agreed.
You and Joel chuckled as you took a step back for both their sakes.
"c'mon, let's go eat," he said "Breakfast's gettin' cold, mama"
~~~~~~
The fic is done this is just a bunch of other shit cause i feel like it, and id like to take a moment to thank my friends for supporting and feeding my delusions
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The birthday wishes a friend sent me
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And what has now become one of my favorite things I've ever been gifted, the Italian literary classic: Il fu Pedro Pascal
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alexias-putellas · 3 months
Text
star struck // a.putellas x bronze!reader
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a.putellas x bronze!reader
based around this request!
-
when you told lucy you were coming to stay with her in barcelona for a while, she couldn’t have been happier. she’d never say it loud but you were by far her favourite sibling.
your acting career had skyrocketed in recent years so spending time with your family wasn’t always easy but you tried. and whilst you’d never been to one of her barcelona matches, you kept up with every single one, sending your support from far and wide.
whilst you’d supported every club lucy had been in, you’d become extremely invested in barcelona. lucy often teased you about it. but then she told you that her teammates were fans of yours too, opting to watch a movie with you in it when they had team bonding nights.
you had never met them though. well, apart from keira. so the thought of meeting the people your sister spoke incredibly highly of sent your heart aflutter and finding out they were equally as excited to meet you? euphoric.
as a nice little surprise, you decided to fly to barcelona a week earlier then intended. of course that meant lucy wasn’t prepared for you so you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find her apartment empty.
you banged on the door again for good measure, huffing in defeat. digging through your bag, you sent lucy a text before deciding keira was probably your best bet.
she texted you back instantly, letting you know that it was team bonding night and whilst she didn’t know where your sister was, she knew where she would end up.
keira was at the apartment complex in no time, pulling you into a tight hug. even after the breakup with your sister, you remained close.
“oh, kei, i have missed you.” you sighed happily, squeezing the girl for good measure before taking a step back.
keira reached into her pocket and held out a key to you. “lucy told me to keep hold of it in case you did something like this.”
“she knows me so well, it’s gross.”
you happily took what you assumed to be your new key and unlocked the door, pushing it open and motioning for keira to follow you in.
you found the spare bedroom fairly easily, dumping your stuff in there before wandering to the living room and throwing yourself onto the sofa.
“what are you doing?”
“learning to fly,” you muttered. “what the hell does it look like?”
keira rolled her eyes, leaning over you and grabbing the collar of your jumper in her hands, hauling you up quickly. “no you’re not.”
“keira!” you whined, swatting at her hands.
“you’re coming with me. but first shower, you smell like airport.”
ᡣ𐭩
alexia was running way behind schedule. she was nearly fifteen minutes late by the time she arrived at mapi and ingrid’s place. she let herself in, not at all surprised to hear laughter coming from the living room.
“ha! in your face, mapi!”
she froze. you weren’t supposed to be in barcelona for another week and her first thought was that something bad had happened. but then she heard your infectious laughter again and figured that that couldn’t have been the case.
alexia made her way into the living room, her first sight being you with your head thrown back, still laughing at something jana had said.
“ale!” you heard someone call happily.
your laughter died down as you turned, eyes widening slightly as you stared at the blonde. and if alexia had really been paying attention, she would’ve noticed how quickly lucy yanked you up from the sofa.
it did not go unnoticed by her teammates and as soon as ingrid noticed the look on mapi’s face, she leaned and slapped the spaniard with a stern ‘do not meddle, maría.’
“it’s nice to finally meet you.” you’d said as soon as lucy placed you where she wanted you, holding your hand out to alexia.
she snapped out of it quickly, taking your hand in hers. “it is nice to finally meet you too.”
you almost swooned at the sound of her accented english, praying that she didn’t notice the flush of pink on your face.
something hit you in the back of the head and you turned, glaring at a grinning keira. she motioned to mapi and you redirected your glare to her. “vamos, chica!”
you picked up the decorative pillow, ignoring the sound of protest from ingrid and flinging it back at mapi.
“impaciente!” you huffed, dropping into your previous seat and snatching a controller from mapi.
to nobody’s surprise, you beat the defender at fifa again, laughing as she grumbled under her breath. she shoved her controller into salma’s hands, glaring as you grinned at her.
after a few more unbeaten rounds, you relented the controller to an eager clàudia, standing up from where you’d ended up on the floor.
you quietly asked ingrid if you could get yourself a drink and she told you to help yourself. as you made your way over, lucy stuck her leg out, swiping your feet from under you.
there was laughter and you yelped but never touched the floor. strong arms were wrapped around you and somehow you knew exactly who they belonged to.
“thank you.” you whispered to alexia, giving her a small smile.
“de nada,” she returned the smile before looking at your sister. “be nice to your hermana, lucia.”
“yeah, lucia.”
you knew exactly what lucy was doing. helping, as she liked to call it. she’d been teasing you for months about your crush on alexia and when she’d told you that alexia felt the same way, you didn’t believe it.
but you were starting to.
it started off small. making eye-contact and smiling at each other from across the room, looking at her first whenever you cracked a joke.
then the movies began. you were grateful that they’d avoided yours in all honesty. somehow you found yourself sat between patri and alexia, a bowl of popcorn your lap.
you were hyperaware of the way alexia’s thigh was pressing into yours, pretending not to notice the way her fingers brushed your knee when she’d touch her own.
when you’d reached into the popcorn at the same time, you whipped your hand out like her touch had burned, murmuring an apology as your heart pounded in your chest.
growing up, lucy had always taught you to be bold and confident, and to always go after what you wanted. and what you wanted was alexia.
you shuffled closer to her, moving the bowl a little closer to her. turning your head, you studied her side profile, quickly deciding that she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever laid eyes on. when she looked at you, you could only hope that she felt the same way.
she did.
alexia had been secretly admiring you throughout the movie. you were too engrossed to notice.
maybe a little too engrossed. you hadn’t realised lucy had left until the lights were turned on and the other girls started saying their goodbyes.
your jaw clenched. she was helping again. and you could tell by the look on keira’s face that she was helping too.
“i can drive you home.” alexia said after also noticing your sisters absence.
“thank you.” you smiled at her, saying your own goodbyes and promising ingrid that you’d meet her for breakfast one morning.
you followed alexia out to car, slipping into the passengers seat quickly. the drive to lucy’s apartment was quiet but you didn’t mind.
“thank you again.” you’d murmured once the car had stopped.
you were reaching for the door handle when she’d reached out to stop you. you looked at her, riddled with hope.
“are you busy tomorrow?” she asked.
“no, i’m not.”
it was only a little lie. you were supposed to be spending time with lucy but you had a very good feeling she wouldn’t mind the rain check.
alexia’s fingers drummed along her thigh. “would you like to have lunch with me? i can show you around too if you would like that.”
you giggled at the pink tinge on her face, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“sounds perfect.”
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pedgito · 1 year
Note
how about steddie dick measuring contest but reader is the judge? if it leads to smut that’s okay but i know you’ll make it good regardless lol
author’s note: the premise is there i promise, i just used this as an excuse to write threesome smut because it started out as a funny idea and then my brain just melted at the thought of it
cw: 18+ (minors dni), heavy voyeurism, threesomes, unrequited crushes (steddie), established relationships with reader, unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), mentioned virgin!eddie, steve is overly confident, eddie is a sweetheart, if i missed anything lmk
word count: 4k
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It started after Steve and Eddie found out that you had been sleeping with both of them—there was never any exclusivity in your relationship, and the sex with Eddie had started innocently, taking his virginity from him on his graduation night.
Every time with Eddie was something new. He was eager to try things, learn, and it made for some of the more enjoyable sex you’ve ever had. He only lacked slightly in skill, still fumbling around most of the time and getting upset when he couldn’t make you come as easily as he’d hoped.
For Steve, it was after a long-drawn out conversation about how he couldn’t find the right women, the sex was lacking, and he just wanted something—it didn’t even have to be something either of you committed to fully, as long as you two were having fun with it. Steve still went on dates every now and then, had the occasional hookup, but he always ended up back at your place most weekends using the opportunity to vent about his hardships in trying to find a partner—most of it fell on deaf ears, because as much as Steve was a great partner, he also talked about himself way too much.
He was full of himself, to be blunt—which is why this had started the conversation you were being forced to listen to currently, both of them settled on either side of the couch. You were smushed in the center, feet propped up on the table in Eddie’s living room, hands covering your face as you rested your head against the back of the couch and let out an audible groan.
“Okay but,” Eddie begins, another tumultuous conversation that was bound to go one forever if you didn’t put an end to it, “you’ve seen both of our dicks, you be the judge.”
Steve had found a pair of your underwear on Eddie’s floor a couple weeks prior, because of course he knew they were yours. He held them up accusingly, both you and Eddie sharing an awkward glance.
You really had no choice but to come clean. Thankfully, they both took it well—actually, they didn’t have any problem with it, and that’s what you couldn’t wrap your brain around. Not at first, at least.
“It’s okay,” Steve comforts, squeezing your shoulder, “be honest, Eddie can take it.”
You always hung out as a group now, never separately—and you couldn’t ignore the obvious tension that has festered. Truthfully, it felt like an attack on you. They talked about you when you weren’t around, you knew that much, having walked in on them in the middle of a particularly heated conversation about what made you come the quickest. Eddie knew it was oral, but Steve swore you faked it half the time just so he’d skip to the sex, always gawking about how good his dick felt—how big it was.
And obviously, it had boosted his ego through the fucking roof.
“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie insults lightly, leaning in to whisper against your ear, “Come on, sweetheart—let him have it.”
“Oh my god, who cares?” You ask redundantly, exasperated at the topic and almost shouting it out. “The average is—what, five? I’m pretty confident you’re both over that so what does it matter?”
“No way Munson is packing over five.” Steve nags, pointing lazily at the long haired, wide eyed boy at your side. Eddie rolls his eyes, scoffing at the comment.
“We get it, King Steve’s got a big dick.” Eddie mocks, throwing his hands up.
You snort at the nickname, “Don’t call him that.” You tell Eddie, watching as Steve’s face falls slightly. “See—he’s too confident.”
“Why are you avoiding the question then?” Steve counters, growing increasingly irritated. It’s not directed toward you, or at Eddie even, he just wants to get to the bottom of it.
“Why are you so worried that I might say it’s Eddie?” You tease, hearing Eddie howl a laugh behind you.
“Is it?” Eddie asks after he regains his composure, “I don’t even care at this point, I just need to rub it in Steve’s face.”
“Fuck this,” Steve says in a clipped tone, “Whip it out, Munson.”
“Excuse you?” Eddie asks in a subtle shock, eyes follow Steve as he stands from the couch. “Take me to fuckin’ dinner first, Steve.”
“I need to pee.” You say quickly, making a weak excuse to escape to the bathroom.
Steve holds up his hand, “No, no—you have to judge.”
You stare up at him with comically wide eyes, growling slightly under your breath when he doesn’t relent, sinking back down on the couch.
“Fine.” You agree, “Hurry up.”
Eddie flicks his gaze between you and Steve before finally settling on you, “Do you—are we actually entertaining this?”
“To be fair, I really don’t know.”
It was the honest truth.
Steve fiddles with his pants as Eddie moves a little slower, more hesitant to expose himself. Steve grew up in sports, he was used to changing in front of other guys, nudity around other’s wasn’t foreign to him—Eddie was obviously less willing, having grown up under constant scrutiny and bullying there was valid reasoning on why he didn’t want to. You gave him a look, touching his wrist as he reached for his belt.
“Steve, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You tell him as he lingers behind you, eyes still locked on Eddie as you turn to him, but something in Eddie’s face changes, a subtle smirk growing.
“Gotta shut him up somehow, right?” Eddie asks.
And they’re both on the edge of shoving their pants down, gaze noticeably locked on one another before you’re panicking, arms thrown up in an attempt to halt whatever was about to commence.
“Wait, fuck—“ You sigh loudly, slumping as they both look at you, “this isn’t fair.”
The silence is telling, both boys completely at your command.
It’s almost impossible not to have fun with this, especially if they weren’t about to let up over the whole ordeal.
“I mean—Steve is definitely a shower,” You admit, “but I don’t think it’s fair unless both of you are—“
“Hard?” Eddie finishes for you, and Steve catches on immediately, that mischievous grin matches yours.
“If you wanted a kiss so bad all you had to do was ask, sweetheart.” Steve replies with that puff in his chest, always so sure of himself.
You giggle softly, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek as you lean away from Steve’s reach, looking over at Eddie and back at him.
“Not me, Steve.” You reply sickeningly sweet, eye flicking up knowingly toward Eddie, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.
You weren’t oblivious to the interest that Steve tried so desperately to hide any time he was around Eddie—the teasing, the lingering looks, the constant need to piss him off just to keep him talking. Eddie was just as bad, constantly feeding into whatever game Steve was playing at. They had been friends before, somewhat—but whatever this had become, it brought you all closer. Though, it wasn’t your fault that they were so inherently stubborn and avoiding the fact that they, for a lack of better words, wanted to fuck each other.
And maybe that was a strong way to put it, but they almost seemed scared—scared that it would make you feel a certain way. They were both always so careful with your feelings, two of your closest friends, but your annoyance was at it’s peak and you really couldn’t take it any longer.
“Each other.” You say simply, wagging your finger between the two. “But, of course, drop the pants first.”
“That’s not funny.” Steve retorts.
Eddie shrugs, “I mean, I don’t care.”
You shrug at Steve, pointing at Eddie. “You heard him—get to smoochin’, Steve.”
Eddie laughs at Steve’s shy hesitation, yanking gently at the open hem of his pants, fingers grazing his half-hard cock.
“Come on, big boy,” Eddie teases, smirk pulling at his features, “all talk and no game—seriously?”
That’s what does Steve in, never one to back down from a challenge. He cradles Eddie’s head the same way he does yours, fingers disappearing into his long curls as he pushes toward him, slotting his top lip between Eddie’s, sucking at his bottom gingerly.
It’s just a taste—something to entice Eddie, but it doesn’t take much. He pulls back with a breath, locking eyes with him for a brief moment before diving in fully, tongue splitting Eddie’s mouth open without hesitation, hands idly working at his jeans to shove them down, underwear following as he steps out of them in a fumble, the fabric getting caught at his feet. Eddie takes a little longer, belt snapping in the air as he yanks it from the loops and strips himself too.
“Shirts too?” Steve asks, not directed at any particular person, but you answer seeing as how Eddie is so clearly distracted by Steve’s lips, his neck, the soft pattern of freckles that trace his face.
“Yeah, yeah—“ Your own breath is caught in your throat, despite how good you are at keeping your composure.
This was definitely meant as a joke, maybe a quick peck or two before you’d put an end to their misery—but that wasn’t the case at all.
You felt like you were intruding, but your body was frozen in place and part of you forget the entire cause of this, glancing down at their slowly hardening cocks, shirts being simultaneously ripped over their heads before they fell right back into, Eddie’s hands squeezing along the side of Steve’s neck as he kissed him, letting out the soft sated noises he makes when he’s enjoying himself, eyes closed shut.
Steve’s hand grazes carefully over his own cock, his fingers barely grazing the head of Eddie’s as he squeezes at the base, bringing his fingers up to drag over the tip, openly groaning into Eddie’s mouth.
Eddie chuckles, biting playfully at Steve’s lip, emitting a strained grunt from his chest—and then he’s speaking to you, startling you out of the trance you’ve fallen into, watching two of your best friend’s going after each other so eagerly.
“What’s the verdict, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, pulling away slightly to look at you. He sees the gape in your mouth, the glaze over your eyes and he can’t help it, “Oh shit—you’re into this, aren’t you?”
Steve turns his attention too, “Is that even a question? Look at her.”
“Someone had to force you two to stop ignoring what was obviously there,” You defend, “—I’m not gonna choose, by the way.”
“Oh, come on.” Steve complains, pulling away from Eddie briefly—he’s so unashamed in his nudity that he turns to you, “seriously—what’s it gonna take?”
You shrug stubbornly.
Steve glances over at Eddie, whose pupils are blown to hell with arousal.
“Your bed big enough for three, Munson?” Steve asks, sending you a vivacious smile that makes you blush, shrinking away from him slightly. “We’re gonna settle this.”
“Uh, yeah—should be.” Eddie nods, “But if we’re about to settle who’s better in bed, that’s a given.”
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It was definitely not a given—because as much as you’d like to go for one or the other, they were making it impossible.
“Is this too much?” Eddie asks, shifting between your legs as he stretches your thighs open. Steve’s settled behind you, propping you up slightly as he tilts your head up, searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation toward this.
“I feel like I should be asking you two that question,” You admit, smiling softly as Steve tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, smiling down at you, “this is my fault.”
“You good with this, Harrington?” Eddie asks idly, kissing at the inside of your thigh before nipping at the skin, causing you to squirm, gasping involuntarily.
Steve nods, making an affirming noise.
“You think you can handle both of us?” Steve asks endearingly, though it’s edged with something else
“At the same time?” You ask incredulously, “No fuckin’ way—“
Eddie’s tongue slides through the center of your cunt, biting gently at your folds. “I don’t think that’s what he means.”
“Good to know it’s on your mind though,” Steve comments, “maybe we’ll try that next time.”
Eddie pulls away briefly, laughing into the apex of your thigh. Steve’s fingers trailing down your bare chest, over the pudge of your stomach until his fingers reach your clit, rubbing slow circles until he can feel your breath starting to quicken. Eddie dives back in soon after, his tongue dipping into your entrance, lapping up the thick juices, sounding shamefully wet already. His nose nudges Steve’s finger, the pressure it applies is fucking sinful, causing you to moan openly, a hand wrapping around Steve’s bicep for support. His eyes never leave your face, so when your eyes go searching, he’s right there waiting.
“So, here’s the plan,” Steve explains—and considering he’s a lot more experienced than both of you, it makes sense, “Eddie’s gonna fuck you first, then me—then you’ll have to make your decision, alright?”
“No promises.” You mumble, before Steve’s nudging your face back up again, eyes darkening.
“You will.” Steve decides, “Trust me.”
Eddie moves up, leaning back on his thighs as he rustles around in his drawer for the spare box of condoms—because in hindsight, there was no way he could’ve prepared for this. So, of course, he’s all out.
“Hey—it’s fine,” You assure him, hand pulling his face toward you, “I trust you—considering I’ve been on birth control for the past year I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
“You always make me wear condoms.” Steve grumbles from above, earning a light shove from you.
“Well, Eddie isn’t going around fucking other girls.” You tell him lightly—it doesn’t come off as catty, more matter of fact. Eddie laughs, closing the drawer.
“So, one point me,” Eddie says, pointing toward himself, before shoving a giant goose egg at Steve, “Harrington, zero.”
The conversation dies rather quickly as Eddie settles back down, nudging the head of his cock at your entrance, teasingly pressing it along your clit, sliding up through your folds in an effort to drive you mad—it always does, his face lighting up every time. Steve’s not watching you anymore either, eyes lingering toward Eddie, roaming the expanse of his body, his face. He’s never watched another man fuck before, despite his confidence. Steve’s had a threesomes before, though very few and far between, never like this. His sexuality wasn’t something he always openly discussed, no one ever questioned it either. And truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he even knew what it was. But, he was attracted to you—and Eddie.
Eddie pushes in slowly, face scrunching up in concentration as it always does—it’s almost like Steve wasn’t even there to him, his mouth coming down to latch onto your neck, kiss you gently, savor the sweet taste of your skin. Sex with Eddie is always slower, more sensual, and maybe you could enjoy it if Steve wasn’t snickering above you so flippantly.
“Dude,” Eddie complains, thrusts slowing as he glances up at Steve briefly before glancing down at you helplessly, “either get busy or get out.”
“Actually,” You pipe up, looking at Steve, “talk to him, Steve—god knows you never shut up when we’re fucking.”
Steve snorts softly, peering up at Eddie from underneath his lashes, smiling dangerously.
“It’s nice, yeah?” Steve inquires, eyebrows jutting up slightly in question, nodding toward you. “Probably the best you’ve had.”
Eddie laughs weakly, his thrusts increasing slightly as he pulls at your thighs, hooking them around his hips more securely. He was gawking up at Steve, leaving you to watch the show with baited breath, eyes squeezing shit every now and then when Eddie hit that particular spot inside of you.
“It’s the only,” Eddie admits, “but it’s fuckin’ perfect. Pussy’s fuckin’ perfect.”
And he’s never been a savant with words, but damn if that doesn’t send an immediate jolt of heat to your core, moaning brokenly.
“You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?” Steve asks you, breaking his connection with Eddie briefly to glance down, “I’m not even kissing him and it’s driving you crazy.”
You nod dumbly, Steve’s attention flicking back toward Eddie.
“Tell me how she feels.”
Eddie scoffs lightly at that. Eddie’s always talkative during sex, but not in the same way Steve is—Steve is always about praise and making you blush after every other word, while Eddie has no ability to keep his burgeoning thoughts inside, telling you something annoying about his day or his favorite song that week; it’s all very mundane but it’s Eddie.
“Tight, fuck—“ He sighs, gripping your hip harshly as he moved his hips into you faster, face scrunching up slightly as he glared at Steve, who’s smirk hasn’t faded at all, “god, warm too. So fuckin’ warm and soft—“
You whimper desperately, finger squeezing into Steve’s forearm as Eddie thrusts into you, shoving you up Steve’s chest slightly, their own faces nudging together from the close proximity they were in.
Steve nods knowingly, his lips grazing Eddie’s plush ones, pulling back slightly when Eddie leans forward. “It’s not fair to her,” Steve says in a hushed tone, but you quickly respond with a shake of your head.
“Fuck, please,” You beg, “it’s so hot.”
They both laugh at that, forcing you to giggle despite how close you were to your own orgasm. Eddie presses his lips against Steve’s this time, initiating the kiss as he moves against you, fingers gripping you impossibly tighter as Steve’s tongue traces his bottom lip before slipping inside.
It’s messy, all spit and battling tongues as Eddie's hand struggles against the mattress to keep him upright, limbs shaking from execution and the coiling heat in his stomach, grunting into Steve’s open mouth.
“Gonna come,” Eddie whines, “fuck, I’m gonna come—“
“Come inside her.” He tells him.
It does Eddie in immediately, losing his rhythm. Steve’s quick, sneaky in his motions as his hand ghosts over your clit—the attention was never lacking, it’s the one thing you appreciated the most about him. Your orgasm hits you quick, fleeting, eyes connecting with Eddie briefly as he spills inside you, fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to leave bruises. Surely they would, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
Steve rubs your arms comfortingly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as you come back down, head spinning slightly.
“Still with us?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb along the side of your cheek until you connect eyes with him, offering him a small nod. He grins, “Good, my turn.”
Eddie moves slowly, still reeling from the intensity of it all, feeling floaty as he moves to settle behind you. Steve sits up as he takes Eddie’s place in front of you, leaning back on his heels as he lifts you up into his lap, forcing a small gasp from your chest. His fingers find your cunt, rubbing through the mix of your slick and Eddie’s as he pushes it back up inside of you where it starts to spill out.
“Good girl,” He chides, “I need you to keep it all in until we’re finished.”
Steve grips the base of his cock, pushing inside you slowly as Eddie pulls your hair aside, mouthing at the line on your shoulder, your neck, lazy and gentle kisses to remind you that he’s still there.
“Oh fuck,” Steve groans, “s’not fair—you’ve been letting Munson here fuck you without a condom and deprived me of this—“
“Stipulations, Steve.” You sigh, face scrunching up as he lifts you slightly, wrapping your legs around his hips until you have no choice but to throw over the control to him.
“Can’t help that you're a whore, Harrington.” Eddie chuckles, eyes connecting briefly as removes his lips from your skin, “—tell ‘em, sweetheart. Tell Steve how fuckin’ amazing it feels to have me inside you.”
You nod in agreement, a jerky motion of your head as Steve rams into you harshly, pulling a strained whimper from your lips, adjusting your arms around his neck for purchase. Eddie pushes in impossibly closer—Steve buries his face against the other side that Eddie isn’t occupying, leaving a faint bruise in the skin before pulling away, surprisingly met with Eddie’s lips.
“So good.” You mumble, voice barely above a whisper, words failing to reach you, gasping sharply at the feeling of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your clit, still reeling from the previous orgasm. You could feel it though, that deep seated ache in your belly that was lingering there, waiting. Eddie’s other hand is pulling at Steve’s neck, tongue forcing itself past his lips and devouring him on the spot—if there was one thing about Eddie, he could take your breath away with a kiss, which was evident in the way Steve could barely keep up, having seemingly met his match with Eddie.
“Fuck, it’s too—sensitive, I’m gonna—“ You moan devastingly loud, both of them breaking briefly to attend to you—not that they weren’t already doing so, but they’re lips are puffy and red from kissing each other and they can barely keep their eyes for one another.
You’ve created a monster—but, it was a necessary evil. They had been walking around each other for weeks, tiptoeing around the topic, becoming more and more territorial over you to rile the other one up, it was only a matter of time.
“Fuck, yeah—just like that, baby.” It’s the only nickname that Steve calls you that makes your stomach flutter, his voice softer than normal. Eddie leans in too, fingers still rubbing persistently at your clit as he breaths over your ear, murmuring a soft—
“Look at him,” Eddie comments quietly, “he’s a mess.”
And he was—for a brief second, you didn’t even recognize him. Steve was normally so well managed and put together that the helpless look on his face was completely unfamiliar. His head fell back lazily, pumping into you a finally few times before he’s coming with a soft grunt, letting Eddie work you through your second orgasm—it’s overwhelming, almost too much, feeling your nails dig into the skin of Eddie’s thigh as you curse out a string of obscenities, chest heaving as you came down.
Eddie groans slightly, falling back on his mattress as you follow into a fit of laughter, neither of you able to calm yourself until Steve is settling by your side, staring you both down with a comical look of disbelief.
“So, do you have your answer now?” Eddie interjects beside how valiantly you’ve tried to avoid the topic. “Or, do we need to go again?”
And there’s only one real way out of it.
“Yeah,” You nod, “Me.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit.” Steve quickly recovers, flipping down beside you both, shuffling his pants back on lazily, while you and Eddie couldn’t be bothered. “That’s such a cop out.”
“Are you disagreeing with me?” You press further, the lilt in your voice coming off as a warning.
Eddie laughs softly behind you, “Don’t do it, Steve. You’ll regret it.”
And for once in his life, he doesn’t have a comeback.
“Okay, but back to the original question—“
“It’s Steve.” You admit, earning a dramatic gasp from Eddie, hand clutched over his chest. “Look, you two made me choose, you can’t be mad—“
“You could always try it out for yourself, Munson—if you have doubts.” Steve teases, leaning over you slightly to peer at Eddie, eyes raking his body.
“Mmm, but don’t get your ego up,” You warn him, waving a careful finger at him before pointing at Eddie, “Eddie’s technique is—“
“Are you saying I can’t fuck?” Steve huffs out a laugh, “After that?”
“Eddie’s just—eager.” You smile knowingly, watching as Eddie blushes a deep red, his hand covering himself indecently, the blood rushing to his cock again. “Like, really eager.”
Steve grins menacingly, “Clearly.”
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Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡
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daze4all · 1 month
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Honkai Star Rail Imagine: 7 days a week of Yandere! Sugar Daddy's x Darling! Reader
You never intended to be involved with 7 men. You were just trying to make a living doing odd jobs. Whatever you could take, and they just wanted to take whatever you could offer them. Even if it was just that day…although they often forgot you weren’t just theirs to hold…
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Maid for Hire! Reader x Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Blade,
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
Next Set: Dan Heng, Sunday, Argenti, Jing Yuan TBA
Inspired by Seven Jung Kook) 'Seven (feat. Latto)' 
Part 1: 1st Meeting, Domestic , Doting and Dating Second Part on smut to come...
Sugar Daddy 1. Dr. Ratio
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Monday – Teacher! Ratio x Housekeeper/ Student! Reader
Monday starts off the week with lessons from Dr Ratio in return for chores and reward for being such a good student …
Domestic Life with Ratio hired as Housekeeper
Dr. Ratio had hired you on as housekeeper to clean his house, lab, and his library. For such a scholar his house got surprisingly messy. hH was constantly poring over scroll and forgotten tomes.
Dr Ratio was so invested in his studies that sometimes he even forgot to eat. SO it was your job to cook and prepares meal balanced on tray while he evaluated your cooking “
 “Seven out ten. The taste is good, but the presentation is lacking. Try Harder next time” Ratio would say with barely a glance your way. Unknowing he was watching you over his book secretly.  
Even on days that Dr. Ratio proclaimed the food you prepared was “urgh disgusting. One out of ten.” He would eat it without another complaint. Simply saying “Add more salt next time” while studying his books intently. Or “ I suppose it will do “No effort should be wasted”
Under his critique, your food did get better as did your cleaning skills as he detailed precisely how he wanted his old books preserved and cleaned carefully. It was detailed work to but satisfying when praised by Dr. Ratio  for a “10 out 10”
2. Ratio Decides to Teach when he sees you Reading instead of Cleaning
You never had such an extensive education as the old novels in his library could provide. While cleaning the shelves you couldn’t help taking a peek. Soon you found yourself cross legged on floor drawn into the world of words before you knew it the duster forgotten.
Ratio stumbled upon you like this. The light hitting your face.  He traced your face an open book as you ohhed  and ahed at each twist and turn in the story.
He smiled wryly amused when you mouthed new words stumbling over the production. One word you messed up so badly he interrupted “It is stupendous?
Startled you snapped the book closer apologies spilling from you plushi lips “ I’ll get right back to work sir”
No Need in fact…how about you be my test subject student and Shall I teach you” Dr. Ratio had commanded and so your lessons with Dr. Ratio began.
3. Dr. Ratio Teaches You a Lesson in Attraction
Teaching was his joy and passion though he was so smart, and you could only marvel at his genius in silence when he rambled random theories  to you.
Often he just wanted you as a sounding board  “ A measure of what ignoramus, I may have to teach and pound sense into their brain.” he commented to you
After all, He firmly believed that  “No matter how ignorant a pupil can soon be a peer once  taught”
As embarrassment and desire burning through you as the very handsome man hovered over your shoulder to correct you.
“ No its like this let me show you” Dr Ratio without preamble would smoothly directed your shaking hands to write the right word.  “Why are you shaking?”
His genius mind immediately deduced your attraction to him when you started behavior oddly around him.
After all, he wasn’t unaware of your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chest hip and lips with flushed blush.
After all he wasn’t unaware your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chests hip and lips with flushed blush.
He too watched you.
At first simply to observe as he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the human body similar to the bust, he wore.
It was inevitable that working in close quarters and learning each other habits that you crossed the line…as he took so much pleasure in teaching and punishing you .
Then idly while teaching or reading he would follow the lines of your face to the back of your neck sloped over your study book.
“Perhaps a carrot and stick method would be a better lesson plan” Dr. Ratio would muse as you struggled through the practice books as he settled you once on his lap. His breaths in your ear and you blushed conscious of his closeness.
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Tuesday-  Escort! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Aventurine
 Tuesday – Aventurine
With Aventurine you were the most casual and comfortable. He was businessman and knew a steal of deal when he saw it and he had to have you for day.
A gamble for charity he raised the stakes so high and won you for a date as the highest winning bet for the night. Dates that continued every Tuesday from then on.
Flirty banter was common for you two and soon you had charmed each other.  His double hued hypnotic eyes and devil may care attitude and charisma easing as you stepped off the stage “Hello, friend happy to have such a lovely lady for the evening”
His false flirty lines promised this was just another business deal and a game to him. A friend you would fuck from time to time for fun. However he kept making than that.
His tasks ranged from keeping his penthouse tidy, to being his dress up doll, to keeping him entertained.
When he was tired. A domestic day of cooking dinner and fixing his bath. Other times there would be surprise present in the houses.
Often scandalous lingerie and slips for his eyes alone to greet him. Sometimes elegant costly gowns to wear out to a business party’s as his plus one. If not it was a party dress sparkly and skintight and showing skin only he could touch.
would be perched on his knee or crushed by his side at a casino or stately business dinner .
“My Lucky charm~” Aventurine would sing to his clients as he rolled the dice for yet another winning deal flashing a smile and pressing a kiss to the pulse of your neck.  
Despite his flippant and teasing nature, he promised when going to sleazy parties “Don’t worry I’ll protect you. No one will dare mess with me here”
 Aventurine was almost always a night owl keeping you up for partying or for pleasure in his bedroom. Despite intimately knowing your deal as a creditor he was the most possessive and took advantage of it the most.
Wednesday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories
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First Meeting with Blade: Kafka sets you guy’s Up
A good guy was too sweet for you it hurt but a bad boy was what you deserved and could turn the pain into pleasure.
It was simple with Blade. Lay back and let him break you. You did help clean up the base from time to time as a housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.
It had been like that since the first day  you met him but funny enough unlike the other men he didn’t seek you out.
The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider like coat weaved a web to capture the flower and delivered you to the beast called Blade. Honesty from her initial description you though he was cat you were cat sitting at first or you might to have taken the job.
 “Help me, help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison.
 “What the hell is this” demanded Blade seeing you a stranger all dolled up like a a bright flower in his bedroom. Weak and fragile and sure to break if he touched it.
“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during practice and occupy yourself with more pleasurable activites, have fun. Live a little!~” Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both
Meeting his burning eyes you gulped nervously. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to squirm free.
Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it, if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him from consuming you whole during his sessions.
Side note Poly!Reader Background  might be….:
-A maid for hire just looking to clean a house but get caught up with yandere men wanting her for more services that may or may not be implied on the site that she may or may not know about
Could also be Sugar Baby/Polymarous/Host/Rent a girlfriend/Housekeeper/Escort! Reader
- Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates
- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.
- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?
-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol
- Reader is a  Succubus maybe and craves and needs many men’s seed for their  male life Essence to live and cannot take from one too often or he dies from having too much
Inspired by the Genshin Version written by liljojo genshin sugar daddies
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andraxicated · 10 months
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𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲
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Pairings: Gojo x f! reader
Tags: kitchen sex | raw doggy | food play | livin for toxic! gojo | male masturbation | dubcon | nipple play | arousal from possibility of getting caught | virginity loss | 'her' is used to refer to reader
a/n: this one's inspired by stargirl interlude because it had a chokehold on me since last year (also saw an art depicting the song like damn), might make a masterlist/event of these pieces that's inspired by explicit media hmm
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gojo never knew why a person like you is working as one of his clan's maids. his six eyes sensed it the first time he saw you. the amount of cursed energy surging in your body is comparable to the average sorcerer. you already possess the minimum requirement to be qualified in jujutsu society, yet why are you here holding a tape measure and draping expensive fabric over his naked body?
satoru had to bite back a moan when your fingers ghosted over his stomach but the little sound he made didn't escape your ears. you momentarily stopped at his waistline, glancing up and making eye contact with your young master.
oh how you looked so delectable in satoru's eyes.
'so this is what you'd look like if you were sucking on my dick' he thought. and for someone who has the six eyes, his senses were on fire at that moment, something stirring in his pants with the strong flood of lust.
it was all because of your eyes that the sun glazed upon, lashes fluttering, and the cute questionable look on your face that appeared for a moment. then you got back to what you were doing as if nothing happened.
he noticed your shaky exhale though.
his member was growing beneath the kimono, looking up to the ceiling and biting his lip to control himself. but each touch on his body has him reeling as he suddenly let out a thunderous cough. your fingers froze in shock just at his knees.
satoru smacks his lips. "um-well I think that's enough for today. I'll just send the remaining measurements."
"yes young master" you reply as you immediately drew back and helped remove the kimono on his shoulders, satoru shrugging it off and putting his clothes back on.
he looks at you for a second. "I'll be back a few weeks later. Just in time for that old man's birthday." he says while wearing his shoes, his attention turning to scan your lowered body.
feeling the gaze of someone, you met his eyes once more. the inexplicable tension that lingered between the two of you filled the room. eyes speaking to each other amid the silence, attempting to know what the other was feeling.
then the six eyes sense someone approaching. satoru slides the door and exits without looking. one thing he noticed was your eyes, mesmerizing for some kind of reason. 'how do I describe it?' satoru asks himself, clutching his chin and letting his mind do the work.
he concludes that he found it to be full of life, a refreshing sight to look at amidst the dead eyes of the other servants.
he left you clenching the silk fabric, inhaling and exhaling in an attempt to hold back the pooling arousal. then how do you describe his gaze? you tell yourself satoru would never look at you like that but something inside you tells it was lustful.
gojo longed for you just as much to the point he's actually waiting for an old geezer's birthday party. counting the days 'til he sees you once more, to lock eyes and finally make a move on you—
"fuck" gojo groans, tapping his head to stop you from plaguing his thoughts. he's too damn busy saving the world to even think about a girl he just met. but he shivers in his seat when he remembers how you touched his body with your deft fingers and how ecstatic his heart gets that his dick responds by rising. is it too much to think about how good you'd be in bed?
in the quiet confine of his office, he began to pull his pants down while the hem of his shirt gets taken between his teeth, muffling the huffs of breath he makes. he's a moaner so of course he'll silence himself.
"oh fuck fuck fuck." he takes out his hard cock, wrapping his hand around it and hissing at the contact. satoru was supposed to say your name but he forgot to ask for it with the way his life being a sorcerer was hectic. nonetheless, he continues pumping up and down, closing his eyes and imagining it's your sweet pussy enveloping him. "you take me so good" satoru coos.
your quiet self turned into a cockdrunk whore would be his biggest fantasy, he'd be asking you if it'd hurt yet he'll go on anyway if you said yes coz he knows a good girl like you can take it. your kind always takes him the best.
a grin broke out on his face as he fists it faster, squeezing and tightening his hold like a real pussy would, imagining every filthy thing you'd do just to get him off. and that's where his mind created the idea of you masturbating to the thought of him too, touching yourself at your private quarters and craving to be filled with his cock.
it tips him off badly that his eyes squeezed shut beneath his blindfold, hips thrusting into his fist as his hand slides fast on the sensitive member until a muffled moan of "oh oh oh!" gets out at the same time as sticky white substance trickles out of the bulbous head.
he's so lost in his fantasy that he didn't have time to grab the tissue sitting nearby him. gojo sighs, looking at the mess he made on his hand, asking himself why is he pining so much for a nameless maid.
he then reaches for his phone, dialing a dreaded number and waiting for it to pick up. and when they did, he didn't bother listening to the greeting as it was cut off by his straightforward request.
"that maid who assisted me last time, assign her to me. i don't need a team of servants, just that girl is enough. i'll also be coming back to the estate sooner than I expected...what's her name again?"
said maid was getting herself busy at an ungodly hour. you were still so lost in your own orgasm that you just blankly stare at the wetness between your thighs. your kimono hiked up to your waist as you sit on your bed, flustered that you just did something dirty.
your shaky fingers try to touch the puffy folds again but you flinch at the slightest bit, wanting to enter once more to quench your thirst but you're too overstimulated at this point.
you plop back onto the bed, staring at the wooden ceiling and remembering the man who you thought about the whole time you were fingering yourself. masturbation clearly wasn't enough by the way you're immediately clenching your thighs.
"satoru~" you meekly whimper, testing how your tongue would pronounce his name if he's fucking you. and it had you squealing like a teenager with your pussy throbbing, toes curled, and feet kicking.
you needed the real deal. and luckily, both of you were waiting for the same thing.
it was finally the day of the birthday party, a garden one to which gojo scoffs at the pompous herd of people in the courtyard. he could destroy all of this in a flick of a finger but he decides not to spoil a dying man's last year because he has better things to do.
he trudges off to the renovated kitchen, designed to be modernized at his request, contrasting to the rest of the house. whistling with hands in his pockets, luckily, he sees you there decorating the cake of the day diligently. a wicked smile suddenly crept up his lips, tongue smoothing over as he approaches you, unable to conceal the giddy grin he was sporting.
"hey. didn't know you were quite the patissier." satoru leans on the counter, watching you push down the pipe filled with white cream to create decorative toppings. This innocent scene in front of him turns dirty thanks to his sick, perverted mind. You were just doing your job diligently yet it turns him on so much, his member was already painfully hard beneath his kimono.
He's doing his best not to whip it out and make you suck on it.
"do you need something, young master? i apologize that i cannot attend to you right now despite the arrangement. i was suddenly in charge of making the cake since it was-"
"they dumped this on you because they're too lazy to bake a fucking cake. you're getting picked on by the elders, shouldn't you be angry?" he asks and you don't reply as you're intently focused on the cake. one mistake and it could cost you your livelihood.
satoru sighs and passes a hand through his hair, looking at your figure fixated on your job. it looks like you have no reason to entertain this man any longer. "damn and I thought we were getting close" satoru said with false disappointment, watching your eyes slowly look at him and back to your work. he smirked, going around the corner of the counter and at your back where you could feel his large presence looming in, making you feel uneasy for you to suddenly have a shaky hand.
you could feel him closer, fear mixed in with anticipation and satoru senses that very well. he startles you by placing both of his hands on your hips. he also notices how the rise and fall of your chest quickened along with your heartbeat, he thinks it's cute for you to be so nervous around him.
"what happened? why don't you continue making the cake?"
you shook your head, trying to get his mental tricks out of your mind but his physical touch has you whipped. his slender fingers tease you by playing your body like a piano, moving upwards from your waist to settle at the underside of your breasts. your breath hitches, thighs clenching to form some kind of relief in this torture.
"answer me"
"I can't" You breathe out, feeling yourself about to either faint or cry.
"why not?"
"because you're touching me. it's not...appropriate."
satoru let out a "tsk" sound, suddenly wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder, wanting to take a peek at your face but you're not letting him. "then is it appropriate for you touch yourself at the thought of your employer? your young master?"
you don't even wonder how he knew that but your eyes got big and whipped your head to look at him, fearing his next choice of words or his criticism of your actions. you might actually get kicked out of the household and live in the streets.
the thought of having no roof above your head scares you that tears spring up to your eyes, throat constricting. satoru's hand move to wipe those tears away, a frown on his face when he saw you about to break down.
"what are you thinking about in that pretty little head of yours? hmm?" he coos closer at you, prompting you to speak. you let a shaky breath first before looking at him intently, bowing down in regret as you apologize.
"I'm sorry, it was inappropriate and I'll make sure it won't happen again-"
"yeah, I'll be mad if I go to your room and find out you're touching yourself." You freeze at his words and satoru had to bite back a laugh at how much he's affecting you. you're just too damn cute, he wanted to pinch your cheeks and smother you with kisses but he'll have time for that later.
"you know why?" he asks directly at you as you shook your head not knowing where this conversation is going.
"because it means I'm not pleasuring you. so for you not to do that anymore, I need to touch you and show you that you need me to feel good. to satisfy that itch between your thighs."
he motions at your clenched thighs as embarrassment filled you. he was too straightforward with his dirty words. your nails dug into the counter, scared of the outcome yet at the same time excited.
"you've taken care of me since I arrived here, you're the only person I care about in this house. so let me be good to you (y/n)." he finally knows your name, and satoru considers himself to be incredibly whipped because out of all the names he knows, yours sound the best.
"w-what are you doing?" you ask, feeling him press his growing member on your butt, rubbing and letting out soft mewls that went straight to your ear. he began grinding upwards with a roll of his body as if getting off on your clothed figure alone. but satoru was a greedy man and he wasn't going to settle for your held-back moans and untouched cunt. he wants you fucked up—dumb, incoherent, cock-hungry—on the kitchen counter with a chance of being seen, dripping with his precious seed that's supposed to be given to a woman with a better pedigree.
"prepping you" he replies.
and the thought of giving out blood pressure and heart attacks by indulging in you gets him all giddy. it's a total win for him when he suddenly rips your kimono with his bare hands, catching you off guard with your wide eyes and open mouth, quickly slipping his tongue in and molding for a french kiss.
it burned your desire even further as you tilt your head upward to get a better taste of him. your inexperienced technique was no match for his skills and gojo smiled when he realizes how sloppy of a kisser you are, loving the sweet taste of innocence on his tongue.
his lips felt plump against yours as is your folds that his long fingers are ghosting over. he then cups it, making you pull out of the kiss yet he attaches his lips over yours again, rendering you breathless.
"be quiet. wouldn't want someone to see this won't you?" he teases as he rips your clothing even further. the stretches of fabric hurt your ears as your whimpers of disapproval were long buried in his mouth.
you were then left naked and cold despite the warmth he was giving by pressing his body onto you, eliminating any space that his bulge sticks to your ass too much. satoru notices this and decides it was time for you to get all sweaty and messy. he has to fuck you right then and there as his dick decides.
the tip of his fingers prods your hole slowly, whispering sweet nothings as you squirm about how it was too big and long. gojo wanted to scoff at that and say something mean but he figured he should be good to you as you are to him.
"look at you, good girl. taking my finger so well, it's better than yours isn't it?" he nuzzles his nose at your neck, biting and sucking at the skin as he adds another finger to which you scream, finding the penetration of two fingers a bit too much. he doesn't even care if you make noise anymore. gojo firmly believes that you shouldn't be holding back moans when you're feeling good during sex, that's why he's going to unravel the slut inside you slowly at a time.
"no, satoru! take it out i'm too stuffed!" you held his wrist to push it away but it doesn't budge one bit. he smirks at how cute you are trying to overpower him and he pushes them deeper, watching you let out a loud moan.
"you called me satoru, i like it. but how are you going to take my cock when a mere finger is too much for you? huh?" he taunts, massaging your walls and pulling out to rip a whine out of you.
"i can take it! i can take your cock!" you suddenly exclaim and satoru takes it as a cue to start pulling it out of its confines.
"why the sudden change of heart?" the hard member twitches in his hand, leaking precum, begging to feel the warmth of your walls, and satoru hisses once he aligns the tip to your hole that's comparingly smaller. "answer my fucking question slut"
he's gonna fucking destroy you and both of you know it.
"owh!" his large hand met your ass, making you jolt in surprise before you reply. "coz it feels good when something's inside me" your voice went smaller with each word that gojo almost didn't quite catch what you were saying, but he did and it rose a smile on his face.
"i love honest girls" he says and pushes in with one quick thrust, opening your cunt wide open and devouring every space inside you, filling you to the brim with a sweep that has your mind reeling. gojo feels insanely thick inside you, giving pain with pleasure that has your pussy pulsing, evoking a low moan from him as he bit your neck.
"ah! ahhh! satoru~" you moan as he starts to move but you're too tight around him that it takes all of his willpower not to slam you on the counter and use you like a fleshlight.
"sweetheart, you're a virgin?" he pants, stopping his movements to let you adjust and feel what it's like to cockwarm. you nod at him shyly and he kisses your cheek then your lips, breaking off the heated exchange with a pinch to your nipple. "you just get so much better. i think i'm in love with you"
gojo then starts to pull out only to rut inside you like an animal, bumping you against the counter that your nails dig and scratch painfully on the flat surface, loosely holding onto the edge for dear life as you scream with each penetration of his big cock.
"satoru! y-you're too much I'm gonna break! aw! oh!" he only laughs at your moans while gripping your hips, giving him good control of how he wants your body to be. he could honestly go worse than this, he could be merciless and not care about your limits but for your first time he'll take it easy on you.
"lift your ass, give me a good arch sweetheart." gojo instructs and you follow, sticking your ass out for him as he pumps in deeper, hitting your sweet spot like he couldn't stop. you could even hear how sexy his moans are along with his balls slapping against you.
"y'know I like sweets"
"what?" you spoke out of confusion and he suddenly swipes a finger on the icing, poking the soft texture deep enough to destroy it, bits and pieces crumbling down in front of you like how hours of effort have been in vain.
you could care less but your heart still dropped, kinda hurt how you made it all pretty only to be destroyed by gojo with a swish of his hand.
he cooed at how your expression looked sad yet he dismissed it by fucking you harder, thinking somehow the pleasure will win you over. "it's just a fucking cake to them. they won't appreciate your efforts no matter what you do, so don't bother."
"i know-" you were supposed to say more but gojo's hand suddenly shoved icing into your mouth, filling it with his large fingers to shut you up yet the skin slapping was no means quiet.
"there's—ohhh! ah~ a—a person coming. they must be looking for me" gojo tries to make coherent sentences between moans, too lost in the feeling of your cunt spasming on him and letting him ease his cock in. your virgin pussy was too good for that it secretly had his eyes rolling back onto his head, the tips of his ears red along with his flush cheeks.
gojo takes his fingers out of your mouth, letting you breathe so you don't black out. "t-then stop! we'll get caught!" you tap his arm, trying to get him off you but you only push him deeper from behind, making him moan.
he may not care about what happens when you get caught because he's always going to be off the hook, yet you know it won't end nicely for a maid like you. fear crept into your body as your shaky eyes could only wait for the figure to come in and see you debauched.
"i'll try to be quiet too" satoru's other hand went over to the cake once more, swiping the white cream to be put at the top of your sensitive peaks. you shiver at the cold sticky feeling. "ready? his head rests on your shoulder and looks up grinning with his blindfolded eyes.
"i wanna see you satoru. take off the blindfold." you whisper and satoru gives a cheeky smile before doing what you wanted.
it was the prettiest shade of blue you've ever seen. like a rare diamond that you would love to stare at forever because it's yours. pulling you in deeper until the only thing you're thinking about is him.
"looks like someone's forgetting who's in charge" gojo whispers back amidst your lovestruck gaze at him. he was used to that kind of gaze thrown at him but there's something different about yours that he wishes he was the only one who receives it.
gojo clears his throat, embarrassingly got lost in your eyes, and had a little daydream of his own. he smiles and looks at the icing melting on your boobs. "oops! gotta clean them up!" he giddily attaches his mouth to one of your nipples, licking and toying them around with his tongue as his way of being quiet. he pinches the other one and pulls, squeezing the mounds to make it harder for you to keep quiet.
you had your eyes shut as gojo was busy sucking on your nipple, addicted to watching your face morph into pleasure and the feeling of your softness between his teeth. he gave kisses to both of the mounds, lapping the area around them while he was thrusting at a slow yet deep pace, one that elicits sobs from you each time he plunges back.
"satoru-! i'm-hmph! ohhhh i-ahhhh" you were beginning to tighten like crazy. as you started reciprocating his thrusts and gojo knew you had to feel him rough to get off. he was very reluctant to leave those peaks, giving them a long final suck before cupping both of them to return to his proper position facing your back.
he was close too, he could feel it coming, he could feel you too.
and so his cock pulls out at an agonizing pace to switch to pounding you into the counter. staccato moans came out from your lips and you had to cover both hands over your mouth to keep it. gojo didn't like that and decided it was time to reveal the little game he played just to taste your titties.
"it's okay, be loud as much as you want. they're in the courtyard having some fun" he says, fixated on your ass jiggling with each thrust, your walls constricting against his cock and that spongy spot he keeps hitting like a goal.
the loud chorus of the happy birthday song began to echo with so many guests outside and it just made you remember how disrespectful you were being, getting fucked by the young master with the sun still out, nonetheless in a space that anyone could walk into.
"i can't!" you choked out words the best you can and satoru scoffed at how ridiculous you were being. he just wanted to hear your fucking moans, wanted to hear how good he makes you feel. if this rhythm isn't enough then he starts to go hard befitting of his stamina, successfully ripping a scream out of you.
he laughed, pushing his slick-covered cock in. "listen, there was no one around in the first place, sweetheart. you don't think i planned out all of this to fuck you in the kitchen just for someone to come ruin it?" each snap of his hips makes you lose your mind, letting him take you from behind as you scramble to organize your thoughts about what he just said. you wanted to look back at him and ask why did he do all of this but the feeling of his large cock surrenders you to him.
"s-stop! ahhh! it-it's coming!" you feel a wave of pleasure washing over you, coming from your center that's still accommodating his girth. it was different than when you do it yourself, it hit hard like a truck that released all your pent-up sexual frustrations, bringing you to a state of clarity yet making you limp like a lifeless ragdoll that's waiting for its owner to stop playing. especially, your poor legs that stand on so little strength.
your arms gave up with your head and laid flat against the counter, not knowing when was this going to stop because your pussy feels incredibly sore each time he slams in. gojo then began to whine like a bitch, saying things about how you're so tight and he's so lucky to get to feel your pussy first. not that anyone will come next.
"fuck fuck!-(y/n)! ohhhh i-i'm coming! take it you fucking slut!" he groans, surprising you by pinching your clit and swirling his hand around your pussy, thrusting with his ass clenched so hard that you actually think the cockhead knocked on your womb with the way you lurched forward for the final time.
"happy birthday to me...feels like my fucking birthday." he mutters to himself, spilling his warm seed deep inside you, watching some of it begin to spurt out despite still keeping you plugged. he wanted to plant himself inside you as a claim of territory, making it clear to you and everyone that from now on, you're his.
"i feel full" you babble and relish at the feeling of being blessed by the gojo heir's seed, some of it already trickling down your thighs. "so tired. feels like I'm going to pass out"
and you did pass out from the fatigue of waking up early to learn a recipe for nothing—and from getting railed on the countertop for the first time.
this won't be the last time as gojo's keeping you for himself. he never wanted anything from this household except for you, his handmaid. so he's gonna call ijichi for a ride, get someone to pack your stuff, and keep you nice and warm in the comfort of his own home.
he's taking you to jujutsu high not for the reason of actually making you useful with your cursed energy. you're way too pretty to fight ugly curses anyway. and he's pretty sure, you would love to have your life turn around and become a princess, his princess.
after all, it was his handmaiden's fantasy.
1K notes · View notes
azulpitlane · 5 months
Text
i wish you would I ln4
pairings: lando norris x reader, exbf! mason mount x reader summary: part two of got love struck notes: kinda dragged making this but finals are finally over so send me some requests pls🤸‍♀️ this ones kinda angsty and there's lots of miscommunication sorry hehe part three, masterlist
yourusername posted a story 2h ago
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The night was full of partying, drinking and dancing as you celebrated your best friend's 23rd birthday. The night quickly turned into a mess when you went to the bar to get everyone more drinks. When you came back your friends were nowhere to be seen, you assumed they were in the dance floor but when you went to check, they weren't there either. To make matters worse, you had put your phone in your friend's purse for safe keeping so you had no way to contact them. The panic quickly sobered you up as you looked everywhere for them but instead you found different a familiar face.
"Mason?"
"Y/n! Hey, I didn't realize you were here."
Your ex-boyfriend went for a hug as he greeted you. You and Mason ended your relationship over a year ago, and though you felt no animosity towards the football player, the breakup had been hard as everybody on the internet seemed to have an opinion on it. It was mutual breakup, you both were in different stages in your life and it just seemed like it wasn't your time.
"Yeah, I was celebrating y/bff/n's birthday with a few other girls, but I have no idea where they are and they have my cell." You were starting to get frustrated as you felt like they left without you.
"Oh no, I would help you look but I'm about to head out. Let me give you a ride home, I would hate for you to be here by yourself."
You knew if somebody saw you and Mason alone it would cause chaos all over again, but you had no other choice at the moment and you just wanted to go to bed. You agreed and as you left you both were oblivious to the cameras taking pictures of you leaving through the back door together.
As you pulled up to your hotel you smiled at Mason and thanked him.
"You're a lifesaver Mase seriously, I don't know what I would've done if I never found them or you."
"You don't have to thank me y/n. I will always look out for you even if we're broken up. I still care for you."
"You're a great friend, I'll always look out for you too."
"And um I have to ask,"
You could tell he was nervous as he scratched the back of his neck and his cheeks flushed slightly.
"What is it Mase?"
"Do you love him?"
You were surprised by the question, not expecting him to bring up Lando.
"Um yeah-yes. I love him so much, I can't even find the words to describe it to be honest. I don't think any song I write can even measure to how strong my love is for him."
"That's good, yeah, that's great. I just, I'm happy you found your person y/n. You know, I thought that person would be me, but if you're happy, than I am too. I guess we just weren't meant to be."
"Mase, you're one of the most amazing people I've met, seriously. I don't think it was ever in the cards for us, but you've taught me so much and you'll always have a special place in my heart. You will find your person one day, I promise."
You smiled at Mason as you spoke, not realizing you had given him the closure he had been needing for a year.
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Lando was freaking out.
He had been sent the article of you and Mason over 5 times already and you hadn't answered your phone in over 2 hours. His mind was reeling as he was thinking about what you could possibly be doing right now. Even though he trusted you more than anything, he couldn't help but let it get to him. Why aren't you answering?
He knew your phone was charged and turned on considering he can still see your location. As he checked it again, he realized you were no longer at the club. You were at someone's apartment. Why weren't you at your hotel? Who's apartment was this?
Before he let himself jump to conclusions, he called y/bff/n knowing you two went out together.
"LANDOOOO! HI."
"Y/bff/n, hey is y/n with you?"
"Y/n? Oh nooooo. Aw I miss her Lan, is she with you?"
"What? No, how could she be with me? I'm in Monaco right now."
"Oh. Then I'm not so sure."
Lando could feel himself getting frustrated as he spoke with the clearly intoxicated girl.
"Okay, did she go home with you? With anyone else?"
"I don't know, you should probably call her or something."
"I did, over 10 times in the past hour."
"Oh maybe she's busy! Let me know how it goes, bye!"
"Wait-"
She hung up. Lando was going to throw up. He was never considered himself as an insecure guy, but he couldn't help but feel there was something going on. He's seen those tweets and comments saying how much everyone loved you and Mason together. What if those comments made you realize they were right? What if you were with Mason right now? Lando wanted to cry, scream and throw up all at once.
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Three loud knocks woke you up from your beauty sleep. You were still in last night's clothes as you were too tired to even change after the nights disaster. You opened the door and your best friend ran in and hugged you.
"Y/N! I'm so so sorry for leaving you all by yourself. I was completely blacked out and I guess I was acting sloppy because y/f/n said we got kicked out of the club! I was acting too drunk and they got mad im so so sorry, this is all my fault and we tried to tell security to get you but they were so mean and-"
"Y/bff/n stop. It's fine, it was your birthday, you deserved to act a little crazy."
"Still babe, I'm sorry. Now that article is being spread like crazy and it's all because of me."
"What are you talking about? What article?"
"Shit. I forgot, here's your phone. But I have to warn you, people saw you leaving the club with Mason last night and the rumors have already begun. Im sorry hun."
Oh god.
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Lando🧡 15 missed calls 5 unread messages
YourPublicist 2 missed calls 1 unread message
Danny Ric🤠 2 unread messages
Y/f/n 8 unread messages
The notifications were endless as you scrolled through your phone but there was only one that you really cared about. You immediately called Lando, afraid he was angry at you for this mess.
"Lan, baby, I'm so sorry for worrying you. I just opened your messages, y/bff/n had my phone all night." You immediately gave him a run down of the night as you knew what it was like to be in his position. The media has circulated so many rumors about your relationship overnight and you knew how hard that was. You had dealt with it all throughout your career and you were heartbroken it was happening to Lando because of you.
"That's weird because I actually called y/bff/n last night and she did not mention she had your phone."
"She was so out of it last night, she probably forgot she even had it. Oh god, she was downing shots I'm honestly not even surprised she got kicked out, she was so crazy-"
"Y/n, you don't understand, I have not slept all night. I was worried and everyone is talking about this. I look like an idiot in this situation."
You knew Lando was going to be upset but after your explanation, you didn't expect for him to still be angry at you.
"I know, the night was a mess, but nothing happened with Mason. He just dropped me off and I'm grateful it was him and not some random taxi."
"You're grateful it was him? You're grateful these pictures are all over the internet?"
"That's not what I meant! I meant he was the safest option at that moment, I had nobody else."
"Yeah. Half of the internet is happy it was him. People are actually celebrating thinking you guys are back together."
"Don't listen to them Lan, me and Mase are never getting back together. People will accept it over time and this will blow over."
"Why are you being so casual about this? Do you even know how I felt last night when you weren't answering. I was going to be sick thinking what you could possibly be doing with him."
"Lan, I told you nothing happened. Why aren't you believing me?"
"This is just all too much." Lando knew he was overreacting a bit. Your story made sense and it all lined up, but he had spent the entire night overthinking and reading the rumors about you two that he couldn't get them out of his mind. He loved you so much and last night made him realize how easily he can lose you and that thought terrified him. You were everything to him, but did you really feel the same way?
"Are you breaking up with me? Seriously? Over a stupid tabloid, I can't believe this." You felt betrayed. Did he not trust you?
"I dont know, it's just hard for me wrap my head around this right now."
"Lan, my flight to Monaco leaves in a few hours, how about we just talk about this in person when our heads are clear?"
Lando was getting angrier as the call went on. He knew his insecurities were getting the best of him right now but he felt like you weren't listening to him. You were trying to brush this off when the whole world was going against you two right now.
"Wow Y/n. My heads pretty fucking clear right now. You know what? Maybe it's best if you don't come, yeah?"
"Yeah, okay."
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one week later
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liked by user 1, user 2, masonmount and 3,593,304 others
yourusername life atm. p.s all new music released from now on is coming from the comfort of my own bed <3
comments on this post have been limited
yourbff love u. coming over rn🏃‍♀️
yourusername pls dont forget snacks
taylorswift need this new album right now
danielricciardo ❤️‍🩹
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liked by user1, user2 and 231,583 others
dailymail Singer Y/n Y/l/n spotted once again with Manchester United star, Mason Mount, leaving a restaurant with a few other football players. Are the two officially back together? Rumors of her breakup with Formula One driver, Lando Norris have been circulating for over a week now after Y/l/n and Mount were seen leaving a club together. Read more on this new love triangle in our article linked in our bio.
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user1 im so excited for this album HAHAHA
user2 team mason idc
user3 funny how the last song she dropped was titled slut, if the shoe fits :)
user4 slut shaming in 2023? disgusting.
user5 i refuse to believe her and lando broke up sorry
user6 delulu is the solulu atp😁
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notes: another cliffhanger!!!🤸‍♀️also this isn't proofread at all my bad heh
tags: @jayrami3 @whoselly @roseseraj @saturnbloom77 @landowecanbewc
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partycatty · 4 months
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are you open to doing hcs or a fic with johnny (mk11 or mk1 variant idc lmao) and reader with dacryphilia? i just know the sex is so good he can make a mf cry. 😭😭
stares at this anon with incredibly wide eyes
mk11 & mk1 johnny cage > dacryphilia
warnings: nsfw, overstim, johnny being a dickhead, author struggles to write dominant johnny bc they know deep down he's a pathetic little bitch boy
notes: oh my god i am . i am so excited. i love this so much i've been holding onto this for .... days . ilysm i'm writing for ALL THREE. lh ymg OGLDJRKSKWJD
masterlist <3
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dilf >
• by FAR the most dominant of the three. he's been around. he knows how to please a woman and he'll make that abundantly obvious when you're reaching your fifth orgasm of the night and he's still pumping into you.
• while he's the most dominant, he's a soft dom! he absolutely worships his love like a goddess and will put her pleasure before his. but he's gonna have his fun while he does!
• johnny loves to please you with every inch of his body. facesitting, fingerfucking, thigh riding, cockwarming, humping his boot, eating you out, he will get you all fucked out one way or another. there's a lot of ground to cover on his huge body, and he devotes every square inch to your pleasure.
• he'll mix his praises in with degrading when he's really into it. he blabbers on and on and he gets closer, the degrading taking over when he's about to cum.
• johnny, on really good days, won't be done fucking you until your mascara drips down your cheeks. he's mastered the art of lasting during sex, so he will be hard for quite some time. and even if he goes soft, he'll just stop and eat you out until the erection returns.
• "such a pretty girl... my needy whore... oh fuck, baby, you're killin' me here..." he loves to just say things into your skin. he'll bite your shoulder or bury his face in your folds and still have something to say. a ball gag wouldn't even stop this man from yappin'.
• "just one more, love, i know you can do it for me," he groans into your ear as he plows his fingers into you again. by now, they're nearly pruned from how much he's been fingerfucking you. his other hand is wrapped around your waist while you sit on his lap. when you reach the next orgasm, he gently caresses your thighs. "there we go, good girl. that wasn't so bad, now was it?"
• when you reach the point of mentally breaking, tears prick at your eyes and fall down your cheeks and you pathetically squirm in his grasp. you don't even know how many times you've came, but this man has somehow found a way to make it happen so many times all you can do is sob.
• in his younger days, that wouldn't even be close to implying a finish line for his torture. but now, with age, he knows better. he sees you cry and stops being as rough. he knows it'd just stop feeling good and start hurting or go entirely numb. johnny would still squeeze in one more orgasm though, just for good measure. just to prove that he can.
• aftercare KING. you just lay there like a little soggy sock and this handsome devil will wipe you clean and pepper kisses across your body, telling you how well you did for him.
• "sorry to make you cry, sugar, i just couldn't help it. you looked too damn pretty," he'll mumble into your neck. "every time you cum for me, i just wanna watch it again and again..."
• your coworkers keep asking if you're okay the following morning from how puffy your eyes are and how sore you claim to be from... training.
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younger >
let me just say first that it is so unbelievably funny that he is looking at himself on imdb in that gif
• he's so mean. SO MEAN!
• degrader to the max. bro is the definition of a cruel and unusual punishment.
• and yeah the jacket stays on during sex.
• "you like being a filthy whore for a movie star? you gonna take it like a good slut? yeah you are," he'll yap and yap while he downright uses your body. he doesn't rub your clit to make you feel good, he rubs it so you spasm around his dick more. he wants to feel how much you crave his cock, his touch. it's all about him, baby!
• more than anything, he just loves to fuck you in every position imaginable. he wants to be buried in whoever fell victim to his charms, dammit!
• mirrors. send tweet.
• no fr, this guy loves having mirrors in every place he could picture himself having sex in. he'll pull your hair and force you to look at your reflection.
• "no, no, no, baby, don't look at you. look at me. look who's fucking you nice 'n good," he wraps his hand on the front of your neck to make you watch him rail you.
• at this point, his dick is painted with your orgasmic fluids and he's still not done. you're so fucked out you can't even think straight. your body has gone entirely limb and you're just in a hazy bliss. you've finished so many times your entire body is trembling and jerking around, and your cute moans and whines have just turned into gasps but the skin on skin slapping is incessant.
• "you gonna cry?" he asks menacingly, holding your face with one hand. "yeah you are. good fuckin' dick, isn't it?"
• you lazily nod as the gasps turn into sobs. you're just so full of pleasure and pain that you don't know what emotion to feel anymore.
• "pathetic girl, can't handle this much boom?" he chuckles breathlessly, approaching his own high. "just stay like that, baby, i'm close. tell me how bad you need me."
• that doesn't even sound possible in your current state. he may be talking, but all you hear is distant sounds as tears streak down your face.
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new era >
• this johnny is like a mix of the former two, but with his own little quirks! i believe this man is a switch through and through with a heavy preference for submission. but, yknow, that being said, sometimes a man just needs to fuck his girl's brains out and watch the tears flow!
• he's a man that's desperate for reassurance and this carries through during sex. he's not insecure, he just loves inflating his own ego.
• "you like that? you like how i fuck you?" he asks with deep whines in between. "tell me how much you love this, baby, please — aah —"
• he'll wipe your tears but secretly pray they keep flowing. it gets him off so good to see how much he affects you.
• also, ngl, i feel like he loves to be overstimulated too. a long ass day of shooting, he comes home and literally wants to get edged and overwhelmed for hours just to release all that pent up energy. he's a crier too <3
• 🚨 🚨 IPAD BABY 🚨 🚨
• he looooves to record you guys have sex, and if he even hears the slightest sniffle from you, the phone shoots to his hand like telekinesis. he's gotta capture every time he fucks you crazy, it's his favorite little memento to hold onto.
• "you look so pretty when you cry," he purrs out, stroking your hair as you choke on his dick. "could never get tired of this sight." he'll play with your hair but also use your throat as his own personal fleshlight. angle or debil.
• if anything, he loves to ruin pretty things. he'll feel accomplished when your lipstick is a mere memory, your clothes are missing buttons and your mascara is now painted down your cheeks. his favorite part of sex is cleaning you up, and his second favorite is ruining you to begin with.
• johnny would honestly love to keep going after you start crying, but he literally can't. he cums the second you're overstimulated because the sight alone gets him there so damn fast. as soon as the waterworks pool in your eyes, he's already getting sloppy with his thrusts and his groans turn into whines.
• he'll kiss your eyelids after sex, the heat of his body providing comfort after the rounds upon rounds of ruthless orgasms. he'd probably also lick your cheek to rid of the tears because it's funny.
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loveshotzz · 9 months
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All I Really Want Is You
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older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday
Ask Me What I’m Thinking About
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summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.
wc: 8.3k
warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)
authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡
🌇 <- chapter eight
The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:
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The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.
You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.
Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of  long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.
“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”
It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s  something intimate.
“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.
Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.
It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”
Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.
“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.
I didn’t even get my kiss yet.
The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.
“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.
“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench. 
One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.
“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.
His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in. 
It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess. 
He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age. 
Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.
“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.
“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.
The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.
“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.
“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.
You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.
“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.
You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him. 
“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”
You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.
You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.
“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.
“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.
“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss. 
“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”
Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day. 
“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”
You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place. 
“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest. 
“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.
“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture.  “If you think it’s weird I can -“
Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?
“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.” 
His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.
“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.
“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.
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Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.
The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.
Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.
“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.
“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak. 
“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.
“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you. 
It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.
It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.
It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.
“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.
“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him. 
Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.
“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.
“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.
“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.
It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.
A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them. 
There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.
It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.
“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist. 
“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.
“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’. 
That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite. 
“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.
“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.
Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight. 
He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.
“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.
“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.
“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.
“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.
“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten. 
“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”
It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.
“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.
“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.
You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.
“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.
“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”
You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before. 
“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin. 
Knock, knock, knock 
You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes. 
“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door. 
You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.
“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.
Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess. 
“Come on in.”
Richard strikes again.
Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants. 
The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard  steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.
You hate Richard.
“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.
Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.
“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you. 
You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.
“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.
Steve wants you alone. Now.
“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.
“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.
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Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.
Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.  
“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.
“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.
“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze. 
“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your  body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.
The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.
Clink, clink
The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.
“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light. 
“Sure, I’ll follow you.��� He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?” 
“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.
“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.
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Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time. 
Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.
The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here. 
He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.
“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him. 
Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.
“More than you know, baby.”
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The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights. 
The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside. 
“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs. 
“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”
Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.
You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little. 
“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.
“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say,  a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.
“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words. 
“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink. 
“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.
“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.
You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet. 
Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.
“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck. 
“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.
He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.
“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.
One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission. 
“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”
He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?
“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”
“Maybe.”  You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.   
“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.” 
“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk.. 
“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.
He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace. 
“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.
“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.
The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction. 
“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him. 
Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.
“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?” 
The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear. 
“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.
He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again. 
“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand. 
“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead -  You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.
All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.
Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.
“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.
“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.” 
He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.
The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.
He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.
“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.
Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.
“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.
You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes -  your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.
That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.
You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.
Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.
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beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️
dividers by @chechelia
🌇 -> chapter ten
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