#baby pillow for flat head

[tranceindia123]

All you need to know about magic of swaddling

Dreams start with the enchantment of wrapping up. Cover your child with comfort and style. Figure out what makes Trance Home Linen exceptional and give your child the most comfort and quality that anyone could hope to find. Get our swaddle cloth online right now to offer your children a quiet night's rest. Swaddling is something other than a wrapping strategy, a delicate embrace relieves your newborn child and advances relaxing rest by reenacting the warm, comfortable belly. Have a look at the soft 100% cotton malmal baby swaddle cloth. Your baby can have a good sense of safety with our top wrap-up materials. They create the ideal cocoon-like environment for peaceful sleep and are made from the softest cotton. They gently caress your baby's delicate skin. There are a lot more purposes for our swaddle wrap cloth, with its outrageous flexibility. These can be utilized as burp materials, carriage covers, nursing covers, or even as a slim cover for your newborn child's stomach.

[tojisun]

simon grunts, his chest heaving as he palms at his chub, tracing the twitching muscle of his cock and letting out a hiss at the muted pleasure that razes through him. he shivers at the heated look you give him, your pretty eyes awash with desire, scalding as it trails down the lines of his bulk until it settles on his flesh.

“ah,” you whisper and simon nearly moans at the awe in your voice.

“s’right, baby,” he says, feeling the way he pulses underneath his low-hanging sweats. “s’all f’r you.”

there is a whine that drags itself from the base of your throat, so primal in the way it scratches your vocal cords, and simon has to fist his cock to stop himself from rutting against his palm.

“i can’t,” you whine, pouting, your eyes still trained on his groin. “‘m gonna be late for work.”

“please,” he croaks out, breathless himself. “how about jus’ the tip, love? jus’ give daddy a taste of you ‘round me, yeah?”

simon knows it is playing dirty to pull this card on you—to exploit your one weakness—but simon’s guilt is tucked underneath his stretching need, the desire bloating as it leaks past his rationality, leaving him with thinning restraints.

your sharp inhale is all the answer he needs.

he bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down the smirk dancing to the corners of his lips.

“okay,” you reply, tentative and quiet. “but just the tip, you promise?”

“swear,” simon murmurs.

like a goddamn liar.

he relishes in the squeals dripping from your parted lips, only for them to be muffled into your pillow.

he’s got you on your knees, your front all but pressed flat on the bed, your arms having lost the energy to keep yourself up as simon fucks you from the back. he’s got fistfuls of your ass, using them as sweet, sweet leverage as he manhandles your body back to his cock.

“so good f’r daddy, sweet’art,” he rumbles, his voice so deep it even sounds foreign to him. “so, so fuckin’ good, love.”

he punctuates his words with hard thrusts; drawing his cock out slowly, deliberately torturous so he can watch the way your hole grips at his cock, not wanting to let him go, before punching it back in. he doesn’t stop and keeps pushing his cock past the gummy press of your walls until his hips are pressed flush to the fat of your ass.

then, he repeats the process—sharp snaps of his hips leaving you twitching, and simon watches with a crazed giddiness as your hands uselessly scratch at the sheets as though that could tether you.

he bends forward, his bulk covering your trembling body. “such a cute darlin’ for me, lovie.” he ruts his cock along a particular sweet spot. “say ‘thank you’ to daddy?”

he hears a warbled reply from where your head is pressed to your pillow.

“hmm? wha’s ‘at?”

simon cups a hand on your forehead and carefully pulls, tipping your head up just enough that he can hear you.

he hears a hiccuped sob, then, “than’ you, daddy.”

simon giggles and presses a kiss on the back of your head. “what a good doll y’are.”

something about that makes your body tremble, spasming in his hold, and simon watches with awe as your toes curl, before he has to let go of you at the sudden tightening of your walls. his eyes go white, his ears ringing with a sharp static.

he feels so, so overwhelmed at the expanding euphoria that washes over him, lapping at the synapses from the back of his skull to the cavity of his ribs.

“you came,” simon mutters in awe, his voice passing through his teeth like a gritted hiss. “christ, lovie-”

-

[nochepsicodelica]

You're tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep in any position you lie in. Every time you turn, Toji accommodates to your new position, but you never last in one position long enough for him to stay asleep.

"Do you not want me to cuddle you or something?" He asks, opening his tired eyes for the nth time that night.

"No, you're good," you respond, turning onto your side, again. He sighs, hoping this will be the position you finally fall asleep in. He latches onto your back, wrapping his arm around you before shutting his eyes. Two minutes later, you're wiggling around, again, turning onto your stomach. Your arms wrap around your pillow, and you rest the side of your face on it. Toji always has to be touching some part of you when he sleeps, so he throws his arm over your back. He clicks his tongue when, once again, you flip onto your back.

"What, baby? Why are you moving around so much?" He's trying not to let his tiredness control his attitude towards you, but you've been doing this for almost half an hour now.

"I can't sleep. I close my eyes and nothing happens. It's just dark," you explain.

"Well, try again, ma. You wake up too early to be going to sleep so late."

You do as he says, and try again. Your arms rest on your stomach and you try to stay as still as possible with your eyes shut. Suddenly, your feet feel too warm and you feel the urge to find a cool spot on the blanket, so you shift your legs. You feel like your head is in an awkward position on your pillow, like you're sinking backwards and your neck is uncomfortable because of it. You feel like turning back onto your side and curling up, so you do just that, letting Toji's arm slide off your chest.

"Shift one more time," he grumbles, turning his body towards your back, again, draping his arm over your waist. He's tired of hearing the sheets rustle with every move you make.

You heed his warning, and stay still for the longest you have in a minute. Toji thinks you may have finally fallen asleep, and feels safe to doze off, as well.

Then, you flip onto your other side, snapping the last string of Toji's patience. Without a single warning, you're being pulled until you're flat on top of him, your face buried in his chest. His arms wrap around you, fastening your body against his and he crosses his legs over yours, securing them. He can feel you fidgeting in his hold, still trying to move.

"Stop, mama," he says, holding you tighter. "Just breathe."

You still and try to focus on the sound of his heartbeat. It's steady, like the rise and fall of his chest. He smells good and his skin is comfortably warm. His arms apply a relaxing amount of pressure on your back. You don't feel unsteady as you remain balanced on top of him. Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing is replicating the rhythm of his. Your heartbeat is slowing as you calm down and you release all the tension in your body, allowing yourself to go limp. Your eyelids fall shut and all that can be heard are the soft sounds of you breathing through your nose. Both of you finally get to rest.

[rafecameroninterlude]

rafe + size kink

warnings: size difference, fingering, unprotected sex, stomach bulge

“please, i want more!” rafe’s lips ghosted over your own as he spoke, “you can barely take my fingers, what makes you think you’re ready for the real thing?” he teased, making you whimper. “i could take it, i promise.” rafe kissed the corner of your lips, curling his digits to hit that soft spot inside of you. “i don’t know about that, baby. i might break you in half.” he laughed as you desperately clung to him, your thighs threatening to snap shut. “i don’t care! i just want you inside of me.” you mewled. rafe thought for a second; eyes running down your pleading face.

“let me show you something.” he pulled his fingers out of your tight cunt, popping the digits in his mouth before revealing his hard cock. “look down.” rafe cradled the back of your head as you did what he said. you couldn’t help but moan at the sight of his length laying flat against your stomach. “the tip stops just right above your belly button. you couldn’t handle that.” he shook his head. “yes i could! please, let me show you.” you gazed up at him, fingers stroking his chest. rafe knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t stop begging until you got what you wanted. “just remember you asked for this..”

“oh, my god!” you practically screamed as rafe drilled into you, his large hands encircling the entirety of your waist as your ankles rested on his shoulders. he’d been fucking you for about ten minutes now and your cunt was still only taking half of his cock. he left sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. you looked so tiny underneath his giant build, his arms swallowing you whole once he caged you between them. rafe was trying to hold out for your sake, but with your tight cunt sucking him in like a vice, it was getting harder and harder for him to control himself.

he was going to cum if he kept looking at your face, so he flipped you over, pushing your head into the pillows. “i told you i could take it-” you mumbled, your words being cut short once he filled you to the hilt. rafe leaned down, gripping the back of your neck. “you sure?” you gasped, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyebrows knitted together in pure bliss. he grabbed your hand, placing it on your lower tummy. “you feel that?” you met his stare as you felt a bulge running across your palm. “y-you’re so big, rafe..” he groaned at your words, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“i know, baby. now fucking take it.”

[dilf-c0nn0isseur]

can you please do a face riding fic with logan and fem reader???

say less🫡

riding logans face - logan howlett x fem!reader

NSFW! MDNI!

"C'mere baby," beckoned Logan. "I wanna taste you."

The huskiness of his voice made your insides burn with desire for him. You didn't wait a single second crawling over the bed to where he was laying, propped up with his back against the wall. You situated yourself beside him and slowly spread your legs open, expecting him to move and go down on you, but he didn't.

"Logan?," you questioned, shooting him a confused look. Did he not just ask to give you head?

There was no response as you watched him slide down against the pillows until he was laid almost flat, head slightly angled against the pillow behind him. With two fingers, he brought them to his chin and tapped. He was motioning you to sit on his face. Your mouth dropped. "Logan, I don't know about that."

"What'ya worried about Bub?"

"I mean," you stammered, "I don't wanna like- suffocate you."

The broody man rolled his eyes at you. "Do I look like I give a fuck?" He continued before you could protest again. "Now, stop being stubborn and sit on my face."

Hell, you couldn't argue with that.

You sat up and swung one leg over the side of his face, hovering above him. Only a couple of inches separated the two of you. A growl rose in his throat. "I told you to sit on my face doll." There was an undertone of annoyance in his voice. He didn't like to ask twice. "Let me help you out." With this, he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you down on him. He buried his nose in your cunt, taking a long inhale of your scent. A groan left his lips and vibrated against your core.

You moaned at this sudden contact and lost complete control of yourself. Your full weight was sat on him as he began working at your clit. The lap of his tongue against your clit at this angle felt different and heavenly. You pressed your hands against the wall in front of you above the bed frame for stability.

"I wanna be fucking buried in this pussy," Logan growled between swipes of your pussy.

His tongue found your entrance and forced itself in, lapping at your walls. He ate you like he was starved and you were his last meal. As his tongue slid out, he flattened it and licked a slow stripe back up to your throbbing clit. You felt him start flicking it back and forth against it horizontally and you cried out his name. "Fuck Logan, I'm gonna cum."

Still buried in your pussy, he encouraged you towards your release. "Do it baby, cum on my fucking face."

You let yourself unravel on top of him, screaming his name. He continued with his tongue against your clit until you started to fall from your climax, in which he responded by nuzzling his face back and forth against your pussy, covering himself in your cum. You shook as you finally slid down, laying on top of him.

"Holy shit," you sighed with disbelief. "That was fucking amazing."

You glanced up at him to see his face and beard glistening with the remnants of you. "You look like a mess."

He ran his tongue over his lips, savoring every last bit of your taste. "Now don't you ever doubt me again, princess."

[rosenclaws]

waking up worst!Logan with some head

warnings: minors dni!! 18+ only, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, fem!reader

a/n: i'm gonna be so fucking real with u guys I woke up horny and so this was born.

It’s not fair how handsome your boyfriend is. Waking up to his firm chest behind your back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his rock hard dick slowly grinding against your ass.

Logan grumbles as you turn around in his arms. Still asleep as he moves to lay flat on his back. Your fingers rake gently along his bare chest and dipping below the covers. Your mouth waters as you lift the covers to see his morning wood in all its fucking glory.

He’s so sweet to you, so desperate to please. It’s time you return the favor. Crawling to the end of the bed you spit on his dick and start to stroke him. Running your thumb over the tip as he shudders. You smirk as you see his eyes flutter open as you kiss the prominent vein that runs down to the base.

“Morning handsome.” You purr as your hand starts to move faster. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view.

“Good fucking morning to me.” He mumbles as he licks his lips. Logan groans as you dip your head down and lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Tracing a large vein with your tongue.

“Shit,” His head falls back into the pillows as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth. Spit dribbles down your chin as you try and take all of him. He’s big, fuck he’s big and thick and feels so fucking good.

“That’s it baby, you can take it.” It’s been too long since he’s hand someone pleasure him like this. Since anyone’s been willing to show him love like this. You whine as his hand grabs the back of your head, shoving you all the way down on his dick.

“Perfect fucking mouth.” He growls.

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you focus your breathing. Your nose rubbing against his coarse hair as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. You bob your head in time with his thrusts. Swirling your tongue messily, craving a taste of the man before you.

He pulls you off his dick, needing you off before he snapped which you didn't like one bit. You know he's desperate and you want him to break. To beg and take charge, take the pleasure that you're so willingly offering to him.

“Don’t give me that look.” He tuts as he grabs his cock in his hands. Giving it a few hard pumps.

"Please, don't hold back, need you so bad." You whine desperately.

Logan’s eyes grow dark at the filthy sight of you. Spit still connected to his dick, eyes watery with tears. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look this hot. He stands up and gently guides you to the floor. Grabbing your cheeks he squeezes until your lips pucker. He gently runs his cock along your lips.

"Feel how fucking hard you make me." He slowly lets go of your cheeks as he slides is back into your mouth.

"Don't know what you started," You relax your jaw as best you can, your eyes fluttering shut as you take all of him once again. Loving the heavy feeling of him on your tongue. He sighs as his thrusts get faster, harder. Pummeling your poor throat with the tip of his dick.

"Made just to suck my cock right baby? Yeah you fucking are." He shoves your head down as he comes hard in your mouth. You greedily swallow everything he gives you, not wanting to waste a drop. He relents his hold on you only a little, letting you catch your breath for a moment.

"Fuck you're too good to me, so sweet." He lovingly scratches the back of your head. He helps you stand up and lays you on the bed. His lips peppering kisses along your shoulder as his hips grind into your thigh.

"Logan.." You whine as he crawls lower and lower. His shoulder muscles flex as he kneels onto floor. A devious look in his eyes as he spreads your legs.

"You had your breakfast, now let me have mine."

[patrophthia]

Hello! Could I request tom being soft and clingy. Thank you and Your stories are awesome!

hi! thank you for reading my work!!!

magic word | tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x reader

genre: fluff, slight jealousy, humor, established relationships, OOC tom

Contrary to popular belief Tom Riddle loves physical touch —only if he’s the one insisting it of course. And, especially when he’s just tiniest bit jealous. 

“Tom?” You ask, feeling him lazily wrap himself over you tighter. “I need to use the bathroom.” 

“No you don’t,” he murmur, tone annoyed. 

“Yes I do,” you tell him, watching as he kept his eyes on the book in his hand. “I need to go.” 

“You wouldn’t be needing to go if you were with Creevey,” he snickers, not releasing his grip on you. 

You bite back a laugh at his words. “This again?”

Two days back, Creevey had made the mistake of asking you out on a date with Tom just a few feet behind him. And though the two of you weren’t exactly public about your relationship, most of Hogswart knew to not try anything on either of you. 

Poor Creevey who build up the courage to finally ask you out after five (or was it six?) months of fancying you, only to be flat out rejected not by you, but by your boyfriend.

Who —for the first time ever— kissed you in front of everyone before turning to ask him, quite charmingly you might add. “Did you need something, Creevey?” 

You could only hope that he’s handling his heartbreak well. Because, your boyfriend was taking it worse than him (probably) by clinging onto you and bringing him up any possible chance. 

“Whether I’m with you or Creevey, I’ll still need to pee,” you sigh, “It’s human nature.” 

“So you admire you’ve thought about being with, Creevey.” Tom eyes Nagini, their eyes meeting with a sly understanding. “Is he going to be a problem?” 

“What are you going to do? Hurt him?” It’s quiet, Tom’s eyes meeting you as if he was asking whether you were testing him. “If you hurt him, I’ll bite you.” 

“And if I liked to be bitten?” 

You huff, squirming under his arms. “I’ll fight you.” 

He moves away from you slightly, long limbs still wrapped around your frame. “I can take you.” 

“Please,” you huff again, this time pouting as you try to ease him off of you but to no avail. “I really have to go, Tom.” 

His arm loosens its grip on you, still tight enough to cage you into his chest. “Say the magic word.” 

“Please?”

“You’re so close, my love,” he tells you, shaking his head as he prompted you on, “try again.” 

“I love you?”

A low chuckle vibrates from his chest. “I love you too,” he says, “but no, how about adding something to your first try?” 

“Please, my love?”A firm head shake, dark hair flailing against your pillow. 

“Please, baby?”

You learn then that even the head boy likes to be babied from time to time, pressing a quick kiss before releasing you from his arms and legs. You shuffle out of bed, yelling back at him. “Since when did you like being called baby?” 

[mattsfavoritestar]

< back_to_main-page

SMILE! YOU’RE ON CAMERA, chris + matt

synopsis… (based on this ask)

warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, edging, chris has a dacryphilla kink

“fuck chris look at her take me so well” matt groans with his torturous slow thrust. he was so deep inside and the stretch burned so good. you were holding on to a pillow, stuffing your face to hide trying to muffle both your sobs and moans.

you felt so exposed and embarrassed with both matt and chris just watching you. your legs were locked around matt’s waist. he held you in place by your waist, refusing to let you go any faster or even attempt to run away from him. he was going at a just enough speed to where it’s barely brushing your orgasm. he was edging you on purpose.

you heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter from chris’s direction. “think i should record it? send it to that fucker?” chris asked completely ignoring your existence. matt nods with his mouth hanging open, he was lost in the way your gummy walls gripped him in such a delicious way.

the pillow was yanked from your hands and thrown to the floor. you saw the blurry head of an upside down chris pointing his phone in your face. “look at this whore. crying on my brothers cock like you didn’t just get a new lapdog” he laughs.

you turn your head away from him as you felt tears running down your face. chris grabs your jaw and roughly forces you to look directly at him. you saw the flash from the camera looking right at you. “oh baby, look at you..” he mumbles as he smears your tears onto your lips.

matt’s thrust grew more aggressive. he was clearly taking his anger out, borderline abusing your cunt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you back arched slightly. matt mumbled his complaints and insults as he harshly pounded deep inside you.

“fucking slut”

“think you’re gonna replace us that easy?”

“bet he doesn’t fuck you the way we do”

you couldn’t even defend yourself. your voice was fucked out of you, all you could do was let out choked moans. you tried to reach for chris to hold onto him but he moved completely out of reach and laughed.

“look you pissed matt off” he says. you shut your eyes then attempted to push matt away by his pelvis but was shoved away by him. you couldn’t even tell them that you were at the brink of orgasm. you opened back your eyes only to see chris hovering over you again with the camera with his cock dangling in your face. he had a sick smile plastered on his face as he zoomed into matt brutality fucking into your cunt.

you soaked matt’s lower half with a loud moan practically a scream falling from your lips. “i’m sorry, matt did she ask you to cum? cause i didn’t hear anything” chris scoffs. matt shook his head, “nope” he grunted.

“flip her over” you heard chris say.

matt pulled out of you swiftly before turning you over. he placed his hands back onto your waist and lifted your lower half to meet his before plunging back in. you couldn’t even register matt’s cock in your guts as chris distracted you by pulling you hair up so your head met with his cock in your face.

chris teased himself on your glossed lips before pulling your hair back slightly, forcing you to open your mouth. you stuck your tongue out and barely grazed his tip. “don’t think your lapdog would be too keen on you panting like a bitch in heat” chris hissed.

he placed his tip flat onto your tongue then slowly pushed himself into your mouth. you thought he was going to be nicer and attempt to be gentle since matt already had your legs quivering. how wrong you were.

chris pushed his hips forward abruptly. you gagged with tears streaming down your face. your throat was on fire but the burn was delicious. between matt drilling into you from behind and chris fucking your face, you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming again on matt. your legs were shaking so bad, you swore you were going to drop if they weren’t holding you up.

“c’mon baby look at the camera. show your boyfriend how much better we treat you” chris pants as he shoves the camera in your face. you gurgled around his cock as a mixture of precum and saliva dripped out of your mouth.

“m’close!” matt moans as he leans over you, his thrust were getting sloppy. chris drops the phone then places both hands on your head. his head drops back while his eyes close. “mh’fuck!, let’s fill her up” chris moans.

you heard matt whine as ropes of his seed spilled inside you followed by a loud moan from chris as his load floods your throat. matt pulls out and jerks himself of while more of his cum pumps out of him and paints your back.

chris pulls out with a heavy sigh while you coughed. he moves back a bit to catch his breath then looks up to see matt sitting next to your limp body. matt played with you hair as you laid their with your eyes closed.

“i just don’t understand why you didn’t come to us if you wanted a boyfriend that bad.” matt states, “could’ve had two” he whispered to himself. you whined as you pushed his hand away softly. “s’cause you guys are so mean t’me” you say weakly.

“we’re not mean you’re just sensitive” chris laughs. he was over there scrolling through your following list, searching for your new boyfriend’s instagram. he scoffs as he looks through this guy’s feed judging every post. you heard his fingers tapping away but ignored it as you felt yourself slipping into a much needed rest.

“matt” chris calls. matt looks over to chris who was showing him his phone. a chuckle left matt’s mouth as he shakes his head.

instagram: christophersturniolo sent a video !

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ mdni - more vacation - smut

Simon left the windows open last night.

He’s not sure what possessed him to take such a risk. The vacation flat may be on the third floor, picked for the view over the beach and shoreline, but the height is not something that would thwart someone with an objective. A mission to kill.

A person like him.

He supposes he left them open because he wanted to watch the thin cotton curtains wave in the breeze. He wanted to smell the salt and hear the birds. He wanted to memorize the sunrise’s painting across your bare skin, the broad strokes and dappled splotches of dawn that turn you into a living canvas, a work of art. The prettiest one he’s ever seen.

You’re hardly covered by the sheet, on your side, one arm above your head, the other stretched out towards his side of the bed. You slept like a dead woman last night, gone to the world, lightly snoring and tossing in the small hours. He stayed up for most of it, tracing the slope of your nose with his fingers, counting your spots, birthmarks, moles, the whole lot. You’re usually a light sleeper home, your subconscious skimming just under the surface, ready to wake you at a moment’s notice for the baby, an instinctive driving you to hover on the edge of deep sleep.

He says he’s not sure what possessed him to let the sun in so early this morning, but deep down, he’s aware of the farce.

He wants to catch it in the light. The small angular sapphire on a gold band, the one he slipped on your ring finger last night while you were lost in your dreams. It’s a simple thing. Unremarkable even. Unobtrusive, as it should be. It doesn’t call attention to its size, or you, or who may have put it there, but it sits so naturally, like it’s always belonged.

He slipped it on six hours ago and well, he’s tired of waiting for you to see it for the first time.

He pulls you into your body, little spoon to his big, and tugs the hand wearing his ring into his, carefully shifting your knee forward. You sigh.

“Simon?” He kisses your shoulder, your neck.

“Go back to sleep sweetheart.” The thick of your ass is plump at his hips, hard cock settled in the cleft between your cheeks.

“What’re you doin’?” You yawn, still not able to really open your eyes, and he nudges at your temple.

“Just a little cold mama, there’s a bit o’ a draft in here.” He traces down your slit, pleased to find you already wet, probably from when he played with you clit earlier this morning. He hefts up on his arm, lining up with you before slowly pushing his way inside your body. You’re wet and warm and perfect, and he groans into your neck, weaving his fingers between yours. His thumb strokes over the stone in your ring, cock still and sitting in your wet pussy. You moan.

“Ah-“

“Feel good?”

“So full.” Your lashes flutter. He kisses your cheek.

“Be good for daddy, sweetheart. Keep those eyes closed, stay nice and still. Keep me warm.” He’s savoring the moment, dragging it out, practically edging himself, waiting for the second you truly wake up and realize what he’s done, what’s happening.

You whine. He slaps your ass, lightly, enjoying how you jiggle and ripple afterwards. The sun tired you out yesterday, effects still lingering, and he rubs a soothing palm over the swell of your ass, shushing you. “My sweet girl, look’t you. Keepin’ my cock warm, hungry for it even in your dreams.” You whimper, clenching, and he starts to move, dragging in and out of your heat, holding you too tight to his chest. Your mouth hangs open in a permanent gasp, fingernails sinking into his thigh.

“Oh my god.” He directs your hand onto the pillow in front of your face, his fingers locked on yours. Another thrust, deeper this time, enough to make you squeak, and then he whispers in your ear.

“Open your eyes mama.” His heart is a sharp staccato, frantic snare drum rolling through his head. He waits, and waits, slowing the roll of hips until your brow furrows, confused at the stall of his pace.

The curtains wave, picked up by a breeze, and the sun skitters across the foot of the bed, slowly spreading up the mattress, over where he’s sunken deep inside you, to the pillow, your face, your hand.

The sapphire sparkles in the morning light.

A beat. Then two. The blood pounding in his ears-

“What… Simon… wait… did you-“ you’re babbling, confused, stunned, and he pulls away, almost completely, before bludgeoning back inside your pussy until there’s no room left, and your back arches.

“That’s a ring, sweetheart. My ring, on your pretty little finger.” He thrusts again, snapping into you with a snarl. The ring is clouding his vision, the clutch of your pussy trying to milk him deep into your womb. “My ring, my babies, my wife.” The plural slips, future plans laid bare, but he distracts you with teeth to your shoulder, playing with your clit, persistent, frenzied pressure screwing your face up until your eyes are clenched closed and he’s fucking you so hard his hips slap against your ass with a shuddering, satisfying sound.

“Daddy- fuck. ‘m gonna come,” you pant, spine curling, and he cups your jaw. He’ll never not be able to look you in the face now, he’ll always need to see you, watch you, drink in every expression like they’re his salvation.

Maybe they are.

“Good girl, there it is, come for me, come all my cock.” You choke, you cry, keening in his arms, sweet kitten turned feral, and he bands a forearm around your chest as he rocks in and out, faster and faster, meeting you blow for blow, release spilling from him and into you, a reaffirmation of the bond you’ll carry, he’ll carry, for the rest of your lives.

“This is crazy.” You’re holding your hand up, staring at the gem glistening against the backdrop of turquoise sea. “You’re insane. You know that right?” He barks a laugh, tugging you down onto the blanket.

“I do know.” There’s sand in your hair, sand littered across your collarbone, sand on your nose. He feels insane right now, sitting by your side, studying the ring he gave you, his ring on your hand.

Fuck. It makes his cock hard. Fills that ache in his chest, the ever present one that he’s had since the day he saw you on the sidewalk with his baby wrapped to your chest. Wild instinct that demands he possess every single inch, every breath.

You’re the moon. The silver light on the desert in the darkest hours of the night. The one gentling the primal deep of the darkest waters, pushing and pulling them in a rapturous tide.

He’s the sea. You’re the moon.

He glances around the beach. Finally. He overheard you and Cami giggling about skinny dipping the other day, and latched onto your admittance that you’ve never done it, but always wanted to try. “We’re alone.” You blink.

“Okay…”

“Want to skinny dip?” Your eyebrows raise, and he gives you a small half smile. There’s a little excitement in your eyes, balanced with caution.

“What if someone sees?”

“No one will.”

“But if they do… you’ll be okay with someone else seeing me naked?” His vision ebbs in red.

“No one will see us.” He doubles down, and you snicker.

“I don’t know. Maybe we shouldn’t… if someone saw you naked they’d probably call the zoo for an escaped anaconda sighting or something, they’d-“ He rolls to his feet, snatching you by your waist, walking towards the tide. You shriek. “Simon! Put me down!” With one hand, he rips your bottoms away and pulls his down simultaneously, before flipping you into the surf, careful to keep his hands on you even as you go under.

When you come up sputtering, you’re trying so damn hard not to laugh, affixing fake outrage on your face like a mask that won’t stay.

You’re so fucking cute.

He tugs the top free, and then you’re both standing naked, floating in the crystal cool water, rolling with the waves. Your feet leave the ground with each peak, and Simon swims after you when you’re on top of one, wrapping you up in his arms and turning on his back.

“I’ll drown you.” You protest, but don’t attempt to wrestle free.

“Mama you couldn’t drown me if you tried.” The two of you float there, toes to the sky in the sea, his hand on your waist, tethered, until your fingers are wrinkled and he's kissed each and every one.

[cameronsprincess]

reader fucking rafe so he can get her an expensive item he didn’t wanna get her previously? like when he’s cumming she will ask just so he says yes

plsss bc this man would be so pussy drunk he’d say yes to anything! thank you for the request nonnie <333

CW: reader lowkey manipulates rafe into buying her something, unprotected sex (it’s all i write, sorry), praise, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, maybe sub!rafe and dom!reader? idk you tell me.

You wanted those heels so bad. You knew Rafe would tell you no though, he’d already dropped a couple grand on you this month and you could hear him now, “No baby, not this time. I love spoiling you, but I also need to teach you how to take no for an answer sometimes.” It happens every time.

It’s not that he can’t afford it, hell he could buy you ten pairs of the heels you wanted and more but he didn’t want you to become a “spoiled brat” as he’d say.

You needed to find a way to get him to say yes, and you knew exactly how to get him to give in. Was it manipulation? Possibly… But you weren’t harming anyone, you were simply going to let him fuck you so you could get what you wanted in return. Rafe always got drunk off your pussy, so the likelihood of him saying no while he’s balls deep inside you were slim.

You’re currently straddling Rafe’s hips, his cock buried deep inside you while you gyrate your hips. His fingers dig into your thighs, gripping at them tightly while his head is pressed into the soft pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he groans.

“Fuck, princess. That feels so fuckin’ good, don’t stop.”

The corners of your lips tilt up into a smirk. You place your palms flat on his toned chest, digging your nails into the skin as you begin to bounce yourself up and down his length. You dip your head down, your lips kissing and licking the sweat slick skin of his neck. You kiss your way up to his ear, lightly nipping at the lobe before sucking it into your mouth.

You release it with a pop, letting a soft moan escape you, the sweet sound traveling right to his head from how close you were. You lift your hips slowly, leaving just the tip of his cock inside you before you slam yourself back down. Rafe groans again, his nails biting into the skin of your hips.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking perfect. I fuckin’ love you, you know that?” He rasps, his eyes popping open, his bright blue oceans consume you.

You smile, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. “Yeah? I love you too, baby.”

Rafe’s dick swells inside you, and you know he’s close by the way his grip tightens on your hips and the curses and grunts flowing freely from him. Rafe is his most vulnerable when coming, and you know that’s your best shot at getting him to say yes to anything you ask.

“You gonna cum for me, daddy?”

Rafe groans, biting down hard on his bottom lip. “Fuck. Fuck yeah, gonna fill this sweet cunt up with my cum, goddamn.”

His dick pulses inside you. You pick up the pace of your hips, moving up and down his length faster and harder while you dig your perfectly manicured nails into his chest. Rafe breathes out a slow curse as his warm cum spills deep inside you.

“Can I get those shoes? Ya know, as a reward for treating you so good today?”

Rafe’s hands slide to your ass, gripping the fatty flesh tightly in his palms as he rides out his orgasm. The next words from his lips have you smiling in victory. “Yes. Fuck yes, you can have whatever you want, baby girl.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @bellbottombaby // @simars3 // @rafesgiirl // @urbimom // @heartsforrafecam // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @araminsstuff075 // @araminsstufff // @chaneydoll // @bi-zowee // @princesssuki21 // @zrm004 // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @baennied // @hyperfixationgirl // @justheretoreadthestories // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @wearemadeofstardust0 // @vallovesyou

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[tranceindia123]

THE MAGIC OF SWADDLING - THIS IS WHERE DREAMS BEGIN

Dreams start with the enchantment of wrapping up. Cover your child with comfort and style. Figure out what makes Trance Home Linen exceptional and give your child the most comfort and quality that anyone could hope to find. Get our swaddle cloth online right now to offer your children a quiet night's rest. Swaddling is something other than a wrapping strategy, a delicate embrace relieves your newborn child and advances relaxing rest by reenacting the warm, comfortable belly. Have a look at the soft 100% cotton malmal baby swaddle cloth. Your baby can have a good sense of safety with our top wrap-up materials. They create the ideal cocoon-like environment for peaceful sleep and are made from the softest cotton. They gently caress your baby's delicate skin. There are a lot more purposes for our swaddle wrap cloth, with its outrageous flexibility. These can be utilized as burp materials, carriage covers, nursing covers, or even as a slim cover for your newborn child's stomach.

[sleep-0-deprived]

dimitriii i have an ideia !!

could u write a dom!toji x bunny! younger reader smut? where the bunny boy its just so cute and toji wants to fuck him silly and breed him all the time

Cuffing season~

A/n I like the way you think! Cause some bunny boy breeding is exactly what Toji needs so I hope I did your fantasy justice and enjoy ;]

Female aligned and mdni this is an 18+ blog with nsfw below the cut

Mating season, the bunny version of cuffing season was here for you and here you were needy desperate with your bunny ears laying flat as you hump toji’s pillow all hard leaking pre cum all over it while he’s gone.

“Someone’s in a mood isn’t he?” Toji asks as he stands in the doorway raising a brow watching you try to please your self with his pillow as your purr with your bunny tail wiggling above your ass cheeks “y-out back early!” You quickly stop rutting into his pillow pulling away flushed “no no, don’t stop cause I’m here baby?”

Shutting the bedroom door he walks closer pulling his shirt off showing his muscular chest as he grips your hips pulling you closer as he places one hand on your bunny tail rubbing at it as he lifts you up with ease pushing you up on the bed further gripping your bunny ears shoving your face into the pillows flipping you on your stomach “Toji please~”

“Does bunny boy need a cock in em that bad?” Toji grunts out pulling his sweat pants off then pulling off his boxers as you lay face down ass up wiggling your ass back and forth trying to get him to fuck you but instead only reviving a harsh slap to your right ass cheek “o ow hurts!”

You yelp out “cmon stop actin like a slut or ill treat ya like one bunny~” he groans smacking your other cheek as he massages them pulling your cheeks apart and spiting on your ass hole.

“Mhm Toji~” you moan reaching your hand back when he pulls his boxers down as you grab his cock while laying face down ass up, your hand guiding his tip to your rim pressing him to it rubbing around his spit as he holds your hips up “fuck, boy” he moans as he snaps his hips forward without warning filling you up “o-Oh hah~!”

Your eyes going wide pulling at the bed sheets your jaw slack as you feel his whole girth stretching you out just like your body craves as you lay in heat turning dumb off his cock with your fluffy bunny ears flicking letting your head droop down “see that all ya needed bunny? A cock to stuff ya wide open”

Toji speaks lewdly one hand gripping your hip tightly as your rim stretches out wide around his cock and your gummy walls clenching sucking his cock back in as you picked around him.

“Fwuah! To—ah” you arch you back as your body heats up feeling his tip rutting right against your prostate making your breaths rigid feeling his pressure inside you “such a sloppy bunny look at ya!”

Grinning as he fucks you with you as dripping and creating your own slick from being in heat, your juices coating his shaft while he slaps your ass cheek hard then pulls on your cotton tail “nhg~ so full~”

“Just like that boy” leaning down into your ear as he pulls you back on his cock further taking a mounting position with him on your back shoving your face into his pillow as he harshly pulls on your bunny ears “m mhm!”

Screaming into your pillow and crying out gripping the sheets feeling his muscle mass on top of you pinning you into the bed fucking you harshly making your ass hole start to burn for being stretched so long but your too cock drunk to care.

“Always so tight aren’t cha?” Grunting in your ear being condescending as his tongue licks over his scar while snapping his hips forward making his groin slap your ass cheeks hard enough for them to turn red while you lay in a daze blabbering incoherently lost in the feeling of getting your heat handled by him “ofhm ohm T-o-Ji~”

drooling and pressing your face in the pillow all fucked out and fisting your sheets as the bed rocks back and forth with toji’s force and weight on top of you.

“Aww already close? And here I thought my bunny could last longer, tsk” Toji says with disdain as he keeps fucking you making your cock jump all hard and neglected as your tip drips needs of pre cum into the sheets before your stomach tightens up shooting cum all over yourself as you gasp loudly drooling into the pillows arching your back like a cat crying out as your hole convulses around him milking him.

“O-ahh Toji~!” Crying out as his cock twitches one last time slamming into you hitting up agaisnt your prostate making your bunny ears droop down on your head lewdly and your bunny tail stop twitching as his cock throbs.

Toji keeps shooting his load deep inside you shooting white ropes painting your insides in a thick coating making your heat feel satisfied as you start relaxing your fists no longer gripping harshly,

“Good bunny, just needed to be bred didn’t cha?” Toji hums in your ears as he gives them a few rough pets kissing on your neck slowly pumping his hips back and forth making sure his load goes deep putting pressure on your prostate as your heat starts to rise back up again

But oh well you were a bunny and bunny’s have high stamina right! Looks like you and Toji are in for a long night of breeding.

[luveline]

James being all cuddly and soft with a newborn baby and reader <3 baby fever is real and very serious rn!!!!!

James can’t believe it. He really can’t. 

Can’t believe you love him. Can’t believe you wanted a baby. Can’t believe you spent nine months of your life growing her, and nurturing her, and here she is. He’s in total ecstasy. 

“You don’t have to keep watching her,” you murmur. “She won’t run away.” 

“But what if I blink and she yawns again?” 

“Jamie…” You reach for him across the bed, careful not to graze the top of the baby’s head. “She’s gonna yawn for the rest of her life. You’ll see plenty of them.” 

“She’s so cute. I can’t stop looking at her.” 

He lowers his head where it’s resting in his hand so you can run your fingers through his hair. Even exhausted, you’re touchy. Love warms your fingertips and the thin skin of his scalp as you rake through his loose curls. 

James curls an arm around the baby gently, so gently. He shuffles closer to her, and you, by extension, where you’re on the other side of her. You might assure him she’s not going anywhere, but you don’t seem to believe it to yourself, glued to her even while you’re half asleep. You trust James to make sure you don't accidentally get too close.

“She’s so beautiful,” James whispers, bringing his curled hand to her face, the flat of his nail against her cheek. He draws a little circle. 

“She looks like her mommy.” 

“Yes, she does.” 

“You think so?” you ask. “I was just kidding. I haven’t really thought about it.” 

James looks at the baby’s face. Her teeny tiny nose, her eyelashes, her perfect skin. He likes to think he can see you in her because of course he can, you made her, you carried her and you grew her. Somehow, the fruit looks like the flower. 

“She’s just as beautiful as you are,” he says surely. 

“All babies are beautiful.” 

“And ours is the most,” James says. She’s barely two days old. It’s insane. 

You’re a tired James has never seen on you, hand sluggish where it continues in his hair. You’re falling asleep again, eyelids blinking heavy and slow, your nose turning into the pillow. Seconds from dreaming. 

James shuffles up the bed to put his head on the pillow with you, the baby between your two bodies. He won’t sleep, he wants you to know he’s near. “I love you,” he reminds you, tapping your forehead with his. 

“Love you… I’m gonna sleep.” 

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers, kissing your top lip in a miscalculated show of total adoration. 

You can’t kiss back. You give into sleep and in minutes you’re snoring lightly, breath a whistle where it slips past your lips. 

James gives your sleeping face a few kisses. He cups your cheek, and he curls toward your baby for more staring. He’s spent years already tracing the slopes and lines of your face, and now he has a new one to memorise. He refrains from kissing her, scared of germs, but he finds the small lump of her hand in the swaddle and covers it with his own. “Pretty,” he praises. 

She lets out a breath. Her snore is yours, too. 

[anantaru]

DAY 6 — BLOW JOB

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — lyney, kaveh, kaeya, neuvillette

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, oral (male! receiving), deepthroating, spit & cum, petnames used: baby & love, a little praise kink, flustered, love sick men

𖧡 — LYNEY

the heat was emanating the backstage-room from the rawness of your tongue that pillowed the underside of lyney's shaft, his tip almost prodding against your throat and bulging a little lower as your boyfriend tries his thorough best to compose himself, he truly does try, but there is only so much lyney was able to endure and it’s with a flush of roses, that peek of champagne pink on his cheeks, then he lets out a soft, shattered gasp in between, a quiet noise of need as you wrap one hand around his length while sucking on the tip.

he was cornered around your fingertips, smooth skin tickling his thudding cock as he palms his hand around your head, "fuck—" he breathes, rutting into your pace half way with your hand lazily wandering down his balls, cupping them in your palm before massaging him with subdued traces.

"just look at you.." he whispers, indiscernible, "just— ugh, just look on how good you're taking me."

the sight before him was of an obscene variety, and you're slotting yourself perfectly to be on the sight under him, "y-you're so warm." he shivers, relishing in how his cock was messily sliding over your tongue, it's almost embarrassing on how much pre leaked from his slit, and the wetness of your spit didn't help one bit— leaving it to lyney to easily fuck into your mouth, in and out, in and out, desperate for more, but he braces himself, needing it to be you who's doing most of the work.

frankly, his climax will hit him much harder that way, when his precious, alluring angel did everything to make him cum all nicely and satiated. the head of his cock ghosts near your throat when you take another inch, not nearly enough to fit him in completely but the pressure and motivation you required was there, unable to wait for lyney to finally spill his milky whites down your aching throat, it's like he's setting you aflame from inside and out whenever you let him release himself past your plump lips, your eyes roving over his painfully, scrunched up expression when he finally does it.

𖧡 — KAVEH

everything about you was just so intimate and personal, the taste of your tongue kitty licking his tip, or the extended heat of your mouth swallowing him whole was almost enough for kaveh to make him cry— issuing his last, remaining power to halter the crystalline globules to escape and froth down his bristling cheeks.

your tongue, so slick and wet of him cum, explored his cock so that you know he's thoroughly soaked in your spit. you needed this as much as he did, you wanted him to make you feel you in a different kind of way because in your relationship— kaveh was all about giving you his everything, all of him until he sadly tends to forget himself during the process— but your brilliant trace, or your tight lips sealed around his shaft and gulping down messily around his tip to flex your throat around the bulging cockhead was all it took him to enjoy himself.

today is about you, you tend to tell him, destroying every shred of worry inside of the man. 

"so soft," he suddenly breathes, struggling for air , "you—you're so soft." and after a moment gone by, you thought that this just wasn't enough, wrapping your fingers around his shaft before pushing each inch inside, all of them within your mouth now being full and heavy of his cock laying flat on your tongue, digging into the back of your throat.

"aah— what?!" you catch him off guard and he swiftly slants his head down to fix his eyes on you, his hips uncontrollably snapping and fucking your tight throat while you're relaxing your jaw all nicely. you don't even have time to hiccup around his shaft before his hand touches the back of your head, the heavy pressing sucking you in, pulling you back and forth with a mix of your saliva and his salty pre dribbling down the corners of your mouth, over your chin and touching the ground at last.

it's so sinful, kaveh thinks, although the desire of the physical contact makes it hot again.

𖧡 — KAEYA

"are you really sure you can handle all of me, baby?"

kaeya's smirk was always assured to hold you hostage— tugged away in a choke hold, he was so unbelievably sexy that it was difficult to avert your gaze at him, even when he could be a little mean at times.

regardless of such, in this current predicament it was different, because you can easily see how his knees were trembling and threatening to give up on him by how quick you were sucking him off— your pace, a cruel one, the flicks of your tongue setting overstimulating hits on his shaft that kaeya could sense were broadening inside his muscles and spreading.

and just when you were hiccuping around his girth, with your lips beginning to ache at the stretch, he looks down at you as he sees the lingering drunken cloud on your moving facial expression, revealing the underlying emotions of desire burning deep inside your gut.

your mouth has been so good to kaeya, soft and wet as his cockhead kisses its way across your tight throat to pillow inside, just distinctly to nudge on it, slipping his hand around your hair to tilt you back and forth just perfectly.

you knew your safe word and kaeya was always aware when he shouldn't apply too much of his strength on you but your entire body was too focused on this, fusing into the enjoyment it brought you, every muscle taut under the strain of your sloppy mouth soaking him with your spit, tightly strung like the strings of a cello.

"fuck.. angel.." he mutters, the strong pulses his cock set free ring through your tongue as you gaze up at him, glassy eyes right under his mercy, and your mind certainly couldn't find enough words to describe that hot and bothered sight in front of you.

seeing what a mess you were able to set free on kaeya's frame feigning stability when all he wanted to do was pull his cock out of your mouth so he could fuck you right away, the cold ground was quite perfect already, you do not need a bed tonight.

and at the thought, his forehead warms up and wets with his sweat lacing on top as you flex your throat all tight, swallowing the load of his pre before grasping at your saliva.

𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE

"do not move, okay?" you order in a dizzying breath, steadfast glare holding neuvillette's as you're working your thumb gently to stroke his cheekbone— "you're stunning." you say, and those intriguing eyes of his when you drop to your knees whilst being hidden behind the desk of his office.

"you haven't seen yourself then, my love." he implores, "the way i see you." and his voice was wavering slightly, but it's quite stirring when you hum appreciatively, neuvillette gulps down the batched saliva in his mouth before helping you release himself off his pants— barely pushing them down, just so they could bundle up over his strong thighs. he's never done anything of that sort before and the thought of you making love to him in such new way only added fuel to his want.

he shuts his eyes and leans back into his chair when you glide your tongue over the sensitive skin for the very first time, the sloppy sound of it unable to prevent himself into pressing up into the strange sensation. the man gasps and coughs when you take his tip, eyes fluttering down to watch you suckle on his length but closing them right after of sheer embarrassment.

fuck, it feels so good, how you're sucking gently, and he attempts to still his hips to let you take the lead, lightly arching his back into your mouth to make it as comfortable as possible.

one more inch, and more, you're for certain that there wasn't a way for you to possibly fit all of him in your mouth, and his cock was twitching against your tongue as you almost airily giggle out at how easily he was to get into this state— especially the shakes and shudders of his legs, still struggling for air as you scratch over his half-clothed thighs, blunt nails roaming up and down his muscular body, messing him up beyond salvation.

he's done for, because he knows exactly what you're doing to him as he raises his hips into your wet mouth, feeling how his cock was pressing against your skin and imbedding his musky scent on top of you, a long, expanding length of warmth and need challenging the the iudex of fontaine.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[arminsumi]

「 🔴 RECORDING 」

found footage of satoru's student years... recorded on the camcorder that he carried around everywhere.

warnings : heavy angst, fluff, implied death, not proofread

[ the first footage is one minute long. there's two blue eyes widening comedically on the screen. the resolution is low and the audio is tinny. ]

"Ooo it works... well hellooooooo there... i'm... GOJO!! SATORU!! and this is... suguuuuruu getooooo... oh look at that walk, you're such a model."

[ the camera is on suguru, who's walking with bad posture. he doesn't like the camera. ]

[ he has his old hairstyle; this was recorded before his hair was long enough to be in the bun style. he hides his face from the camera. ]

"... aw, he's a model that doesn't like cameras. anyways... this is the beautiful... STUNNING... hot... talented... playing-hard-to-get... (haha kidding)... y/n~"

[ the camera pans to you. you can hear the flirty tone in satoru's voice. ]

"... we are currently walking through the gates of hell..."

[ the camera pans to the school. the resolution clears for a second to show a blue sky with slowly drifting clouds. ]

"okay. we have arrived in hell; look there's satan himself—"

[ the camera pans to yaga. ]

[ the footage ends with yaga confiscating satoru's camera and scolding him. ]

[ a video starts off shaky. the camera is dropped on the train floor and suguru sighs. ]

"satoru...... did you just break it after having it for one day?"

[ satoru picks it up and gives a toothy smile to the screen. ]

"nah. she's all good. not even a scratch. ooh... suguru we look so hot. and look how hot y/n is... she's so scandalous — sittin' next to me on the train. this proximity's got me sweatin', baby... kidding kidding... don't gimme that look!"

[ suguru gives the middle finger to the camera and satoru's iconic laugh sounds beautiful even through the crap audio quality. ]

[ there's a 3 minute video that's half-corrupted of a party happening in your apartment... of just you, satoru, suguru and shoko. lykke li's "i follow rivers" is playing loudly, satoru is screaming the lyrics in broken english and suguru is recording you and him dancing like maniacs. shoko is offering her cigarette to the camera and blowing smoke into the lens. ]

[ there's a 25 second clip of satoru aggressively kissing you until you laugh. ]

[ there is a photo of satoru crouching to pet a cat. he's holding an umbrella. ]

[ there is corrupted footage of laughter and a flicker of the video shows a tiny pot on a stove with ramen cooking in it. ]

[ there's a photo of you, satoru, suguru and shoko. you and satoru are looking at each other like lovebirds. suguru is giving the finger to the camera. shoko is laughing with her eyes closed. ]

[ a long video of satoru waking up in a hotel bed. he looks like he just woke up. he blinks at the camera, bleary-eyed and cute with puffy lips and messy hair. ]

"goodmornin'."

[ his morning rasp is strong. ]

"i'm awake... but miss sleepy head and mister sleepy head are not, as you can see..."

[ he zooms in on your face. you're laid at his right, and suguru is laid at his left. ]

"here's the sleeping angel... and here's the sleeping dragon... anyways... WAKEY WAKEYYYYYYYYY!!! IT'S A BRIGHT NEW DAY!!!"

[ suguru's wakeful groan sounds groggy and disturbed by satoru's loud, piercing wake-up call. you scrunch your face as you wake up, seemingly out of a dream. ]

"satoru... what the hell is the matter with you..."

[ it's an ultra close-up shot of your nose as you mumble this. ]

"i was lonely being awake by myself, gosh. you're so mean!"

[ he experiences a voice crack. suguru gives a sleepy, murderous look at his best friend. ]

"satoru... i swear i'm gonna throw that camera into traffic one day."

[ suguru's mumbling into his pillow too softly to be taken seriously. ]

"wanna say that to the camera?"

[ suguru looks grouchy. ]

"i'll kill you."

"WOW... buddy, this is evidence if you ever do kill me... the police will find this footage... 'n put your FLAT ass in jail. aw... y/n fell back asleep look look... aw she's so fucking precious."

[ suguru and satoru admire you for a bit. there rest of the footage is corrupted. ]

[ footage of a breakfast in the same hotel. sunny side eggs are zoomed-in on. and there's only eggs. ]

"we're too broke to buy bacon, isn't that cool?"

[ satoru gets a nice view up his nose as he tilts the camera to himself. then he turns the camera to you, who's sleepily eating this miserable breakfast. ]

"... so we just have eggs to eat... heyyyy hot babe..."

[ satoru flirts with you and you roll your eyes in response, smiling and chewing on your egg, fork in one hand. ]

"wanna hear a joke?"

"mhm."

"if you ever broke up with me, what would you call me?"

"an idiot?"

"your eggs."

[ you groan and stop eating because his pun was so awful, but you've got a big smile on your face and satoru is laughing heartily. ]

[ the video ends with you and satoru leaning in for a big kiss and a sleepy suguru walking into the room, itching his tummy under his shirt. ]

[ there's a clip of you, satoru, suguru and shoko yelling happy new year and watching fireworks explode into blazing, brilliant colors. suguru winks at the camera as you hold it and you giggle flirtatiously back. there's clearly tension between you two that neither satoru nor shoko acknowledge in the moment, because the fireworks distract them. ]

[ there's footage of you, satoru and suguru kissing. it ends with satoru kissing the camera as a joke. ]

[ most of the footage is corrupted after this. in the next video, satoru seems a bit older. ]

[ there's footage of a solo satoru, who's been enlightened and and burdened with being the strongest. he's on a mission alone, keeping the camcorder on as he exorcises a curse. he trots over to the camera. he seems less enthusiastic compared to the other videos. ]

"aaand that's what the strongest looks like while he's at work."

[ satoru looks smug and goofy, but something is off. his features look worn and tired. ]

[ there is already that slightly disingenuous liveliness showing in his demeanor just in this small video; the version of satoru that his students would know as just normal gojo sensei. ]

[ his smile falters as he rambles about y/n and suguru. ]

"i'm gonna give y/n a big kiss when i get home. miss you, angel. haha... why am i talking to a camera all by myself... that's so sad. i'm gonna film myself gettin' that kiss at home, just to prove i'm not some lonely idiot. i have a hot fiancé..."

[ one of the last photos taken on this camera is dated; august 2009. it's of you and satoru sharing a big kiss... neither of you knew it at the time, but it was your last kiss. ]

[ the next piece of footage is from 2018. it's a 28 year old gojo, his features show his maturity and the weathering of all the years he's endured living without you and suguru.]

"i found this camera while cleaning up. if i look 'n sound funny it's 'cuz i've been crying haha......"

"...... i miss you two..... haha... i can't shove the camera in your faces like i used to, now can i?"

[ he awkwardly smiles at the camera but then his face trembles and contorts into an ugly-cry as if he just remembered every single memory of his youth. ]

[ the footage ends with a broken, barely audible "fuck..." falling from the teacher's lips as he starts to cry and drops the camera to the floor. the rest is corrupted footage... just heaving sobs of the man who has no more memories to record with suguru and y/n. ]

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[chestharrington]

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him. 

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it. 

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about. 

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch. 

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it. 

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing. 

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing. 

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse. 

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him. 

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line. 

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat. 

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach. 

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him. 

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot. 

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth. 

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more. 

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing. 

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer. 

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire. 

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that. 

So he thought about something else. 

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world. 

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds? 

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer. 

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper. 

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve?  Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again,  and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller. 

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice. 

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers. 

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least. 

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week. 

  He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently. 

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?” 

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave. 

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own. 

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air. 

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure. 

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead. 

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy. 

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground. 

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs. 

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway. 

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch. 

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper. 

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight. 

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line. 

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming. 

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing. 

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer. 

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased. 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.” 

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were. 

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work. 

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school. 

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job. 

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy. 

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone. 

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks. 

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile. 

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked. 

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud. 

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him. 

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless. 

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed. 

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.” 

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it. 

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift. 

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call. 

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him. 

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit. 

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers. 

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy. 

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react. 

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them. 

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned. 

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay. 

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register. 

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really. 

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him. 

God, you were going to make him pay for that later. 

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper. 

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited. 

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry. 

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank. 

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N. 

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person. 

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him. 

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention. 

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples. 

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. 

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly. 

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy. 

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable. 

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court. 

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy. 

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile. 

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment,  but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice. 

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice. 

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable. 

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break. 

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows. 

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself. 

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line. 

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more. 

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning. 

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it. 

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already. 

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of. 

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion. 

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need. 

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh. 

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel. 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat. 

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically. 

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him. 

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down. 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily. 

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him. 

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo. 

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified. 

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually. 

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his. 

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his. 

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop. 

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way. 

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh. 

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.” 

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. 

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages. 

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot. 

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop. 

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside. 

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls. 

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him. 

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra. 

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right. 

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

 He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction. 

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched. 

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you. 

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you. 

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough. 

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance. 

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl. 

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release. 

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling. 

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. 

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand. 

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?” 

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling. 

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch. 

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt. 

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy. 

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock. 

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself. 

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase. 

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan. 

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin. 

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”