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cuubism · 11 months

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literally just smut, dreamling, prince/knight dynamic, uh. lowkey virginity kink. lowkey degradation kink. yeah.

The war camp is dark, the tent only barely lit by a few scant candles, but Hob is wide awake.

It had been a fantastically successful battle, that day. Much needed after a string of losses. They’d absolutely destroyed the enemy, Hob’s only just managed to clean most of the blood off himself—and he’s still riding that high hours later, blood pumping, restless energy racing as he occupies himself cleaning his armor and his sword.

Technically, he could get someone else to do these menial tasks. He’s a knight, he’s of high enough rank to request it. But Hob’s always believed a man should tend to his own weapons, should know every piece of them. It’s the same reason he takes care of his own horse, and his own tack.

Besides, the repetitive motion of the cleaning is taking the edge off.

There’s another thing that can cut the edge of the battle high.

Sex.

How fortunate, then, that Hob is on good terms with so many of the working ladies of the camp.

Not that it’s really so hard to be on good terms. The bar is so low that simply not behaving like a total dick seems to do the trick—but the fact remains that when Hob calls for one of the messenger boys who hang around outside to send for whoever’s working that night, he knows someone will come by. He pays them well, he gets along with most everyone, and it’s really not that hard to get one’s prick wet under those circumstances.

He’s just finished oiling the final leather straps on his armor, is hanging it up to await the next fight, when he hears the entrance flap of the tent, to his back, swish open and shut again. The rush of cool night air into the warm, close space.

“Be right with you, luv,” he calls, tying off the last strap, and a deep, sonorous voice responds—

“Please, take your time, Ser Gadling.”

Hob whirls around, nearly falls over like a buffoon he goes so fast. Standing there is not one of the working girls he’s come to know. It is, in fact, Prince fucking Morpheus, dark hair tousled by the wind, wrapped in a long velvet cloak that sparkles like stardust where the light catches it.

“My prince,” Hob stammers, trying to decide whether he’s meant to bow and managing only a dip of the head. It’s Prince Morpheus’s fault, this awkwardness, Hob would have managed with perfect politeness the sudden arrival of one of his siblings, or even the King himself. It’s only Morpheus that fells him so. “I—”

“—called for a whore?” Morpheus finishes, quirking a brow. Hob can only describe the look in his eyes as mischievous.

Anything Hob might have possibly managed to say is derailed by the rush of interest to his dick. That look, that phrase in Morpheus’s pretty, proper mouth— and what is he implying—?

“That’s… not the word I’d use,” Hob finally manages, throat tight. “Did. Did you need something, my prince?”

“As I’ve said,” repeats Morpheus, taking a fluid step closer to him. And he’s— he’s fucking barefoot in the grass. Lord have mercy. “You called for a whore.”

Hob should step back. Instead he’s rooted to the spot. Paralyzed by a swirling mix of fear and arousal. “That’s not— you’re not—”

Morpheus keeps advancing on him, liquid and predatory. The deep vee of his robe suggests he’s wearing nothing underneath. He’s got some kind of glitter under his eyes. And he’s— he’s so beautiful. Hob has always thought so, especially on that one blessed night when—

“Do you think me not a whore?” says Morpheus. He says it with allure, almost pride, not shame. “Do you think, my knight, that I have never slunk into some lord’s bed to steal secrets? That I have never used my body to seal an alliance, when my words were not sufficient?”

Hob should be horrified at the thought of his prince debased so. Instead, the image of Morpheus on his knees flashes through his mind, and he bites the inside of his cheek to keep from whining. “That’s not— the same,” he manages.

“Is it not?” Hob’s ankles hit his bedroll and he trips back, falling on his ass and bracing himself on his elbows, and Morpheus follows him, crawling up Hob’s body in a long, sinuous movement, the velvet of his robe soft wherever it touches his skin. “People can make sex their trade for coin, but it is different when I offer myself up in exchange for goods or laws or partnerships?”

If that’s all the case, Hob should find out what Morpheus wants with him now. Instead he asks, breathless, taken in by Morpheus’s eyes, “What did you trade for, then, my prince?” Maybe Hob doesn’t care what Morpheus wants with him. Maybe he only cares that Morpheus wants him. “When you let a foreign king bed you, did you use your mouth?” He touches Morpheus’s lips with his fingertips, and Morpheus smiles, sharp and pleased. “Or did you let him fuck you?”

The thought is as jealousy-inducing as it is arousing. Hob has no right to be jealous about his prince. But.

“What I needed to,” says Morpheus. “I have learned how to bait my lures. Many kings, I have learned, like to ruin pretty young men. Do you know—” he taps a fingertip along Hob’s lips “—how many times I have ‘sold’ my virginity? Played the hapless youth desperate for an older man to teach him, to use him?”

Fuck. Fucking hell.

“And did you learn?” Hob asks, hyperfocused on every point where their bodies are touching.

Morpheus tilts his head at him, suddenly all innocence. “Learn what?”

And, well. He does know how to bait his lures, it turns out. Even knowing he’s sinking his mouth onto a hook, Hob growls and flips them, pushing Morpheus down into the sheets. Morpheus lets out a startled breath that Hob’s pretty sure is affected but still succeeds in sending a thrill through him, and a powerful sense—careful, delicate, don’t hurt him. Even though the small part of Hob’s brain that’s still checked in to reason knows well that Morpheus is the one truly in control of whatever’s going on here.

“Should I teach you, then?” he asks, dragging a hand through Morpheus’s hair— so soft. “Show you how good I can make you feel?”

“Please,” Morpheus breathes, wrapping a delicate hand around the back of his neck. Hob really hopes he isn’t going to get drawn and quartered for this. Might be worth it, though. He doesn’t want to die, but if there were a way to go… “Hob, please.”

Fuck, his name in that wanting mouth.

“Got my mouth on you last time,” he muses, the sense memory of Morpheus’s prick on his tongue rushing through him, the hard press of the palace flagstones on his knees, “think I can show you something new, now.”

“I defer to your experience,” Morpheus breathes, as Hob pulls open his heavy velvet robe. As he’d thought, Morpheus isn’t wearing anything under it, and the thought of him walking through the camp like that to get here makes Hob want to bite something. Morpheus makes him so base and irrational.

Hob hadn’t gotten nearly this far last time. Had simply pulled open the ties on Morpheus’s breeches, let his prince tug on his hair as Hob took him in his mouth. Now, he has Morpheus fully unveiled to him, like a gift, like an offering, and, just like an offering, Morpheus stretches, arches his back, long limbs in relief and his cock laying hard against the crease of his thigh. He’s so pristine, always tucked away in his palace, where Hob has been out in the trenches—literally—getting sun-tanned and rough and dirty.

Although. Not so pristine as Hob might have thought. Apparently.

“You’re beautiful,” Hob tells him. “Your body is beautiful. I can’t wait to show you what I can do with it.”

Morpheus shudders, keeps playing along with their little facade of inexperience. “Will you ruin me for other men, Robert Gadling? Defile me, destroy my reputation so no respectable lord or lady will ever dare take me as their spouse?”

“You came crawling to my bed, pretty thing,” Hob says. Nips at Morpheus’s belly, which makes him cry out, such a pretty, keening sound, and then soothes where he’d bitten with lips and tongue. “You’ve been wanting it, I think. Someone to take you down, someone to fuck you.”

“Perhaps I simply wanted to reward my favorite knight,” Morpheus says, trailing off into a groan as Hob leaves another mark low on his pelvis.

“Should have told me you were the prize for valor,” Hob says. “I’d have killed twice as many men. Come to your bedroom still covered in the blood I spilled in your name.”

Morpheus actually moans at the image. “I’d have had you that way. My knight.”

“You can have me now.” It’s tempting, to do as he did last time, and take Morpheus into his mouth. But Hob wants to do something different to him. And he has the sense that Morpheus wants something different done. “Go on. On your belly.”

Morpheus’s breath leaves him in a shuddering rush, but he does as Hob says. Hob runs his hands down over his smooth back, his ass, his wiry thighs, kneeling between them and pushing them further apart. Morpheus whines, moving his hips in little circles to get the barest amount of friction on the sheets.

“You need it so badly.” Hob parts Morpheus’s cheeks with his thumbs, rubs over his hole, and Morpheus keens. “Don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, Hob, show me—”

Hob swipes the oil from the bag beside the bed—because yes, he is prepared for these sorts of things, if not specifically for his prince showing up—and dips his fingers in. Rubs them together to warm it, then slides one finger into Morpheus, without pause, straight to the first knuckle.

Morpheus lets out a choked gasp, fingers clenching in the sheets. The sound makes Hob’s cock twitch where it’s already straining in his breeches. “Hob—” he moans, strangled, “Hob, I—”

He starts to lift himself up, and Hob pushes him down with a hand on the back of his neck. Morpheus struggles for a moment and then goes boneless under him. Hob releases him and strokes his hair. “Good boy. You want it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Morpheus says shakily, pushing back on Hob’s hand when he starts working that finger inside him. “Please. Please.”

“I’ll take care of you,” Hob promises. Having Morpheus, his prince, his beautiful prince, splayed out under him like this is heady. If he weren’t so focused on Morpheus’s reactions, he might have lost his grip on his own arousal already. “But you’re mine.”

He slides another finger in, and Morpheus moans raggedly. Hob doesn’t know if he’s truly getting overwhelmed or if he’s still trying to play the clueless virgin, but either way it’s burning through Hob’s veins. He gets Morpheus writhing on his fingers, achingly hard in his own pants, taking each of Morpheus’s pleasured, crying moans as its own prize.

Morpheus is shaking, panting, as Hob pulls his hips up, undoes the laces on his own breeches to pull out his cock, lines himself up. Morpheus presses his face into the bed, fingers tight in the sheets. Hob touches his lips to the base of his spine, tastes the sweat there. “My prince?”

Morpheus swallows hard and it still doesn’t seem to clear his throat. “I am ready.”

So Hob braces his hips and pushes in, one long slow slide. He groans at the same time as Morpheus moans, so ragged it’s almost pained. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Well,” says Morpheus, “you are the first to have me so.”

Even aware that Morpheus is only playing at it, the words make Hob feel like he’s clinging to sanity by a thread. “You’ve been waiting so long, haven’t you?” he manages, as he starts to move, still holding Morpheus by the hips. Morpheus sighs at the slide, thighs trembling. It’s enough to make Hob obsessed. Morpheus is so tight and hot, Hob really doesn’t know how long he’s going to last, but he’s determined to give Morpheus just a bit of that ruination first. “Waiting for the right cock to fill you?”

Morpheus pushes back on him with a whine. “Yes.”

“Kept yourself as a prize for me?”

“Yes. Hob.”

Hob reaches around to take him in hand, and Morpheus cries out, bucking into his touch, pinned in place. Hob moves faster, each thrust pushing Morpheus into his grip, his breeches scraping roughly over Morpheus’s bare thighs, and it feels so base to have him like this, still clothed, taking him like a casual whore when he’s a prince. It feels wrong. But so good.

“How’s it feel?” he asks, voice gratifyingly steady. “For your first time?”

Morpheus lets out a wordless groan. Then, “Good. So much. I—” he trails off again, losing his breath. And this, too, is gratifying, reducing Morpheus, usually so eloquent, to broken sentences and simple words.

“Good, love.” Hob soothes a hand over his hip. “That’s good.”

But before Morpheus can settle, Hob increases his pace, pounding into him so hard and fast that Morpheus loses what remains of his balance and is held in place only by Hob’s hand on his hip, his arm wrapped around his belly. Each thrust pulls a sharp gasp from him, his face pushed into the sheets— and Hob’s nearly insensate with how good it is, but still he manages to pull Morpheus off in time with each thrust.

“Hob—” Morpheus chokes, “Hob, I’m—”

“You can come, love. I want to see you.”

Morpheus comes with a bitten-off cry, spilling over Hob’s hand. He’s so beautiful like that, Hob’s formal, perfect prince—crumpled in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, hair damp with sweat. It’s a collision of every illicit thought Hob’s swallowed down when he’s looked at him. In the palace, on campaign, at times when he was meant to be guarding Morpheus and when he wasn’t. He can’t last long thinking about that, seeing that, so he bends low over Morpheus’s back and kisses the back of his neck. One small, tender touch in this game of roughness and transaction, one touch before Morpheus inevitably swans back out of his tent, back to his writing and his diplomacy and his other diplomacy, and— fuck—

Hob holds Morpheus to him as he comes, wishing he could say, don’t go back to anyone else. You’re mine now, come to me. But those aren’t his words to say.

Morpheus slumps down to the bed, boneless and satisfied. Hob follows him, breathing hard against the back of his neck, finally releasing him from under his weight. Morpheus only winces a little when he pulls out, and Hob yanks off his own shirt and uses it to wipe off Morpheus’s stomach, between his thighs. Morpheus sighs, tipping his head back, a tiny smile on his face, then turns to face Hob, leaning on his arm.

Hob’s swiftly learning how weak he is for that smile on the face of the usually unreadable prince. He trails an exploratory finger along Morpheus’s jaw, up his temple, into his hair. Morpheus closes his eyes at the touch, slow and sleepy.

“Was that better than your many transactional trysts?” Hob asks. “Or do I have work to do?”

“I would not know,” says Morpheus, a self-satisfied little smile now curling on his lips. “Considering those did not occur.”

Hob blinks hard, mind going blank. “What.”

“I spun you a story, Robert,” Morpheus says. His voice is sex-rough, his hair a mess, his gaze drags over Hob’s body with a proprietary touch. “And it is a fun story, is it not? Plying secrets from between the sheets, returning home victorious when one was thought to be had. And,” he drags a fingertip down the center of Hob’s chest, “coming back to the bed of a lover. One whom one wants to be with. To be made his again.”

Hob is still stuck on this. “Wait, are you telling me you made all that up?”

Morpheus smirks. “Do you truly think that my words would ever be insufficient to obtain what this kingdom needs? Do you think I need to use my mouth other ways to get treaties signed?”

Well, when he puts it like that.

“It was a compelling story, though,” Morpheus muses as Hob continues gaping at him. “You seemed compelled.”

“Morpheus, why?”

“I wanted to see how my favorite knight would respond to knowing other men had had me,” he says, and keeps dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair in self-soothing patterns. Then his expression shifts from clever to almost shy. “And. I thought that if you knew the truth, you might defer too much to me. Treat me only like your prince.”

Hob’s stomach swoops. “And… what’s the truth, then?”

“That evening at the state dinner, when someone meant me harm and you saved me…” his voice holds a note of wonder now. “That. Was the first time that I had ever.”

“What?” He can’t lie to himself, the thought of being Morpheus’s first, for real, does spark something in him. But also. Morpheus is a prince. And Hob had been…

“I had never before had cause,” Morpheus explains. “I was uninterested in marriage. And I never found anyone worth threatening my reputation over. Until…” His lips purse, stressed now. “And I wanted you so. And. You wanted me.”

Hob is speechless, running through every second of that night in his mind. Sweeping Morpheus into his arms and out of the way of a blade. Morpheus’s wide eyes staring at the slice in Hob’s arm, the blood welling there. Blinking and finding himself crowded into a side hall, Morpheus panting into his mouth, the hunger of his pretty lips, heat and adrenaline running through Hob’s body, pushing Morpheus against the wall and sinking to his knees in front of his charge, his dear, his prince to worship. The tears that had pricked at Morpheus’s eyes as Hob had taken him all the way down.

Christ.

“Does that bother you?” Morpheus asks, uncertain now.

“I’d have shown you a better time then if I’d known,” Hob says, because doesn’t he deserve to be properly taken care of? “In an actual bed.”

Morpheus lets out a little huff of a laugh, expression easing. “I enjoyed it.”

“And then…” he lets his hand come to rest low on Morpheus’s waist. “You came back for more.” He kisses Morpheus and swallows his pleased sigh. “Hungry little thing.”

Morpheus’s breath shudders, and he clings to Hob’s hair, his shoulders. Hob’s about to roll on top of him again and kiss him properly, maybe more once they’ve recovered themselves, but pauses as a realization sinks in. “Wait. Does that mean—”

“Yes, Hob. You were the first man to fuck me.” He sighs. “Use that information against me if you wish. It is out of my hands, now.”

Hob is reeling with shock, and even more so with arousal, heat flashing through his body at the mere thought that all Morpheus had pretended at, newness and learning and raw, unpracticed want, had been, at least somewhat, real. And he had let Hob have that. Catch it. Had trusted him.

“Never,” Hob swears, kissing his cheek. “I would never. You’ll be my secret. Besides. I don’t think anyone would ever believe me even if I said. Me, with you? A prince? And a gorgeous one at that?”

Morpheus runs his hands over Hob’s shoulders. “You are handsome. And very gallant. I do not see what you mean.”

“Well, that’s flattering. And I won’t tell you to take it back.”

Morpheus runs his tongue over his lower lip, eyes dark where they trace over Hob’s jaw, shoulders, chest. “I have. Wanted you from afar. For a very long time.”

Obligingly, Hob kisses him, and sweeps his hands over Morpheus’s lower back, drawing him close. “You’re a prince,” he says, breathless again with want for this wonderful being. “You can have whatever you want.”

“So,” Morpheus nuzzles at his jaw, “I may steal my way into your bed? You would not mind that, Ser Gadling?”

“Sneak in, or stay, I won’t mind. I’ll give you all my secrets.”

Morpheus hums. “And your loyalty?”

Hob thinks he means it playfully, a continuation of his ruse from before—but it comes out much more serious. His gaze finds Hob’s with a deeper wanting than when he’d swanned into Hob’s tent, all draped fabric and fluid lines of desire.

“You have it already,” Hob murmurs, and Morpheus’s pleased sigh as Hob kisses him is a balm to his soul. “My prince.”

#if i don't post this attempt at 'just smut' now i'll end up crawling into a hole and eating the crumpled paper of it instead #just doing smut outside of a plot is like so hard mad respect to the people who write smut oneshots damn #dreamling #nsft #dream of the endless #hob gadling #ye olde prince/knight dynamic #my writing #this fic is actually absurd i'm sorry. but if at least one (1) person thinks this is hot i'll consider it a success. it only takes 1 #im cringe but im free

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theinternetisfulloftrash · 1 year

Note

Hey!!

Can I request “are you wearing my shirt?” with Dylan? Please and thank you!

Love you xx

You've waited a long time for this...

SO YES, I most certainly can! This sounds like fun :) MUCH LOVE!

Authors Note: Cliche? Maybe. But some lines are classic. Sue me. But like, don't? Litigation is expensive ;) p.s. smut... p.p.s. x female reader.

Prompt list HERE, but currently closed. This prompt is like a year old :/

Better on the Floor

Exhausted would be putting it mildly. You'd had a long week and the fact that it was only Wednesday wasn't helping. When you got home, you kicked out of your shoes, stretching out your aching toes as you stripped out of your stiflingly uncomfortable clothes, wandering your way slowly down the hall toward the bedroom. You peeled off your underwear and tossed them in the hamper before you padded into the bathroom to turn on the faucet of the bathtub. You watched the water pool in the palm of your hand, running out between the gaps of your fingers until it was just this side of scalding before you plugged the tub.

You stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam and then pulled open the drawer of the vanity to grab a bath bomb. You watched impatiently as the bath slowly filled before tossing the little ball of Epsom salt into the water, watching it fizz for a few moments before you followed after and slid into the water.

You could almost feel the muscles of your back sigh in relief as the warmth washed over them, drawing out at least some of the tension that had been locking them in place for days. You relaxed against the slope of the bath, letting your neck roll against the soft bath cushion for a few minutes. Enjoying the silence long enough to feel human again before you flicked the water from your hands and reached down to grab your phone from the bathmat.

Your discover playlist on Spotify was something you liked to try to fit in during the week because you always liked finding something new, and you hadn't had a chance yet this week. Now seemed as good a time as any. You tapped to play and then set your phone down on the edge of the bath. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed before the music faded out to an incoming notification, but when you swiped to view the text, your fingers were wrinkled and pale from the soak.

Dylan: So... I'm outside... and I'm an idiot

You smiled and shook your head before your smile turned to more of a smirk. You sat up a bit in the bath, shaking the water off your other hand so you could reply.

You: Alright. I'm intrigued.

Dyan: I might have...maybe...possibly left my keys in my trailer

You: How'd you get home?

Dylan: Fob wasn't on my key ring after I had it detailed

Dylan: Come let me in? I feel like a creep lurking out here

You: One sec

This was exactly like him, and it only made you love him more. You smiled as you stepped out of the bath and quickly toweled dry with one that was a bit smaller than you'd like if you were going to the door, so you snatched his bundled t-shirt off the counter and pulled it on before you rushed to the front door and unlocked it.

"Hey," he said with a smile when you opened the door.

"Hey," you replied, reaching out your hand to take his. You pulled him inside and into a tight hug, standing up on the tips of your toes and locking your arms together around his neck.

He gently kicked the door closed behind him and locked the deadbolt before he fully hugged you back, squeezing you tight around the waist and sighing into the damp hair at the nape of your neck.

"Oh no... you were in the bath, weren't you?" He pulled back and cupped your cheek in his palm. "Sorry, baby."

"'S'okay..." you hummed, nuzzling into his touch, enjoying the warmth of his palm on your cheek.

"You must have been so cozy in there..." He admired you for a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before his gaze roamed down over your body.

You smiled, blushing at his attention.

"You look pretty comfy now though..." he said softly, pausing for a moment before he continued. "Is that...are you wearing my shirt?"

"Mhm..." you hummed, swaying slightly in his arms.

His eyes continued roaming, his hands following the trail they blazed until they were toying with the hem of it that was skirting across your upper thighs.

The skimming touch of his fingertips on your skin lit it with goosebumps. "It looks better on me..." you lied.

"Maybe..." he chuckled softly, pulling his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before his eyes met yours again, "but it'd look even better on the floor."

Did it matter that it was a line if ever you'd heard one? Not even slightly. It still sent a filthy little shiver down your spine. It didn't help that he'd leaned in and was peppering the side of your throat with wet little kisses as he walked you backward until you were pressed to the wall of the entryway.

He kissed you hard, his hands pinning your shoulders to the wall before they slid down your body and pulled his shirt up over it. He tossed it on the floor and then leaned in again, his nose brushing against yours before he whispered in your ear.

"See?" he breathed, his lips wet on your skin. His fingertips ghosted along your skin until one palm settled on your chest, the other on your ass.

You didn't see a damn thing except for little stars, but he'd more than made his point. You punched out an abrupt panted breath at the feeling of his fingers pinching your nipple before he sealed his lips to yours and swallowed down the little moan he pulled from you.

He kissed you until you were breathless, and in the brief reprieve he offered—mouthing along your jawline and driving you wild with the little grazes of his teeth—you managed to draw in a ragged enough lung full of air to keep from passing out.

You were pretty sure you'd collapse if he wasn't holding you in place. His touch, his admiration of your body, it had you forgetting just how awful you'd been feeling just an hour ago. Turns out? A hot bath and a fine-ass man putting his hands all over you are the curealls for just about everything. Who knew.

"Missed you..." he hummed against the thin skin that covered your collarbone.

Your head fell back against the wall.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you..." he said before he kissed his way to the dip at the base of your throat. "Took a shower on my break..."

You looked down at him, at his hand that was clasped to your upper arm, those beautiful veins painting across the tendons that flexed at his grip. His dark hair smelled of his shampoo.

"Had me so riled up I had hide in there and beat off just so I could be seen in fucking public."

It made you immeasurably happy that he was still infatuated enough with you that he was capable of expressing the laughably pathetic self-control of a hormone-addled teen. Your cheeks flushed and a little chuckle shook your chest.

"I deserve that..." He smiled against your skin, before he pulled back from you, his eyes locking with yours. "But I mean..." his gaze flicked down your body before his hand that had been nestled into the dip of your waist slipped down between the two of you until he was cupping the warmth of your core in his hand. "Can you blame me?"

"Fuck."

Now he was the one chuckling, but it quickly faded, his expression shifting from sly to sultry when his fingers slipped inside of you.

You groaned, your head falling forward to his clothed shoulder. You gripped the fabric of his shirt, stretching out the neck enough to expose some skin for you to latch onto with a nipping little bite.

He winced, sucking in a quick breath before he distracted you from your mission to mark your territory with a curl of his fingers inside you.

"Oh— Shit!" you gasped, panting into the cotton of his shirt until it was damp with your desperate breaths.

"That feel good?" he asked, even though the way you were squeezing his fingers had to be answer enough.

You nodded against his chest before he used the curled index finger on his free hand to lift your chin.

"Good," he said before he leaned in and kissed you.

His soft lips felt incredible, the flavour mint on his breath mixed with the faintest hint of tobacco, the combination had become something uniquely 'him' to you. It made your head spin. So, when his tongue begged to be let in to play with yours, you were happy to oblige.

You let him work you over until you could feel that little buzz building up inside you, that tingling hint that—with just a little more effort, one more precise little motion—he'd have you cumming before he was even out of his shoes, and that hardly seemed acceptable.

Breaking your kiss, you pulled away from his chasing lips, knowing you must look absolutely wrecked, and then you gripped him through his pants.

He tossed his head back and practically growled at your touch, his fingers stilling for only a moment before his eyes met yours once more with a fierce, fiery need. He shoved your hand aside and ripped open the zipper of his jeans and shoved your hand into his boxers.

"That's what you do to me..." he said, rutting into your palm, matching his pace with his fingers inside you as he kicked out of his sneakers.

You grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him, tossing it against the wall behind him. "Take those off..." you said, flicking your gaze down his body at his pants, flexing your wrist inside his boxers.

He stepped out of his jeans and socks and then pressed you against the wall once more, rubbing his thigh against the back of his arm to apply a bit more pressure to the hand that was driving you insane.

"You close?" he asked, nosing your jawline and breathing against your skin.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of his throat before you spoke. "Yes..."

He pressed his thumb against your clit and you gasped his name into his hair when his lips fell to your chest.

Just when you thought he was going to shove you off the edge, you felt his fingers slip free from you before he slid down onto his knees in front of you. His warm brown eyes looking up at you, his soft lips parted just inches from your skin. This was criminal. This was attempted murder in the first degree.

When his tongue teased over you, the flutter of his eyelashes was almost enough to get you off. It looked like he was taking a hit of a designer drug...getting high off you.

He moaned against your skin and his hands pinned your hips to the wall, gripping the soft skin under them tight enough that it stung. That tiny hint of pain only made all of it better.

Your hands tangled into his hair, drawing him closer to you. You sighed out his name and half-formed expletives as his tongue teased you back to that precipice he'd had you teetering over minutes earlier.

He sealed his lips around the singing little bundle of nerves and flicked his tongue, his beard teasing the sensitive skin, before he let his lips fall open and he lapped along the slick of you he'd made slicker with his skilled mouth.

You were trembling now, your fingernails scraping along the back of his neck now, your legs weak with the effort of holding yourself up when all you wanted to do was fall apart.

"Come for me..." he breathed before he sealed his lips again.

Demand? Request? It hardly fucking mattered, because before you could classify it as either you were doing it. You were calling out, grasping his shoulders and trembling against his hold on your hips.

He pulled back from you, wiping his mouth into the palm of his hand before he stood in front of you once more. "Mmm...." he hummed before you watched him stroke his length with his wet hand. "Love the way you sound when you're cussing my name..."

Fuck. He'd only just made you come and you felt a new little ember spark to life inside you just waiting to be stoked. Insatiable was putting it lightly. When he kissed you this time, you could taste what he'd done to you—how he'd just driven you wild—and you needed to make him feel just as good.

You stepped apart enough to make more space for him between your legs and pulled him toward you. "Need you..." you whispered against his lips.

"Need me to what?" he replied, kissing along your jawline to your ear before he lapped against your throat and sealed his lips to suck a little mark into your skin.

You bucked your hips against him, feeling his length slide through the mess he'd made of you. "To fuck me..."

The way he responded to those words never got old. You held them in reserve, generally choosing to be a touch more subtle. He practically growled, his head snapping back, his dark eyes trained on yours when his grip on you tightened.

You gasped when he hefted you up in front of him, lining himself up with you, locking your thighs around his hips before he pinned you to the wall so he could free one of his hands enough to lock one of your wrists up in it just above your head. Then he drove into you in a slow, firm thrust.

"Dylan!" you cried out before he kissed you again, grinding you back against the wall before he began a more predictable, yet tantalizing rhythm.

A perfectly good couch in the living room just steps away really, a bed down the hall that was plush and waiting, and yet here you were fucking against the wall a step inside the front door like a couple of rabid animals.

When he fucked you like this he never retreated, in this position he just rocked his body into yours. The pressure it provided just where you wanted it most was unmatched. It was incredible and intense. It quickly reminded you why the couch and the bed should be neglected from time to time. Variety is the spice of life, right? And this particular variety was delicious.

"Fuck, baby..." he moaned, his hand slipping from yours, his fingers gliding through your hair until they were tangled into it and he tugged it just enough to make you wince. "So good... so fucking tight..."

"Shit!" He was driving you fucking wild. Sometimes you wish you could take just a tiny day trip into his mind to see if you made him feel as unhinged as he did you. Hardly seemed possible, but the way he looked buried inside you? You could be tempted to believe there was a chance his infatuation could rival your own.

Your body was trembling again and you felt that familiar tug inside you, that welcomed warmth building. Desire and need beginning to fold to bliss and euphoria. Was he with you? Was he ready?

The stutter of his hips, the faltering of that perfect rhythm, they were signs that he was on the edge of his own release. His breath grew ragged, and his jaw clenched with the effort it was clearly taking him to hold it back.

You didn't want him to wait, he was ready and so were you. You leaned forward and kissed him, clenching around him as the final roll of his hips had you coming undone around him.

The soft rumble of the groan he let out into your mouth when you felt him spill inside you made every sensation feel all the more intoxicating. Moments like this were almost unfathomable. How did you end up here? Lucky enough to have this man panting against your chest? It was absurd really. Absolutely batshit.

After a few moments of shared giggles and coming back to reality, he picked the shirt you'd been wearing off the floor and handed it to you to slip back on.

He appraised you as you tugged the hem down over your body.

"What?" you asked, smoothing the new tangles in your hair.

"Nothin'..." he said with a shrug, pulling on his boxers. "Just nice being right."

You narrowed your eyes. "About?"

"Definitely better on the floor."

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien x reader #my first attempt at prompts!#trashy writing #better on the floor fic #is this a tired trope?#I mean... maybe #but some lines are just... ✨hot✨#so... forgive me for a bit of recycling #first new thing in a while #ENOJYYYY #kinda threw... *a lot* at this one

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ch0wen · 2 years

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The Escort - Part II | Tangerine x Fem!Reader

warnings: Smut, 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex, oral f receiving, cursing, & violence A/N I genuinely appreciate all the feedback I got for part 1! Hopefully, I did part 2 justice. Truthfully, this was my first attempt at writing smut!

Previous: The Escort - Part I

Tangerine is trying his hardest not to swerve off the highway, as he directs the speeding car to the nearest exit.

Your purse was tossed back onto the ground. Freeing both your hands to explore more of the man’s neck and chest. You’re watching every minuscule expression flit across his face at your actions.

When your nails skimmed over his nipples, his fingers twitched on the wheel. Tightening your grip on his chain necklace had his eyes widening as he eased into the hold. A few gentle kisses placed under his ear or on his flexing jaw and you could’ve sworn you heard the softest whines escape him. You’re testing the waters with every touch.

After safely pulling off the highway, he has your car parked in a desolate lot. The cars whizzing by are no more than a hundred feet away.

“You’re a right-fucking minx. Get out,” he gruffly commanded. His palm pressed down on his erection.

You obey and exit the car. Yanking the driver’s side door open. Tangerine is now gripping the wheel with white knuckles. Trying to either take a moment to recollect himself because of his boner or the fact his job is being interrupted by the said issue.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction and you open your mouth to speak again. Most likely to say something snarky about how you made this cunning assassin fold by choking him out. However, in a blink of an eye the wind was knocked out of you, and Tangerine is standing with a weapon in his hand.

“God dammit,” you gasped while rubbing at your sore throat, “enough with that fucking umbrella!”

He scratched at his bottom lip with his thumb to hide his smirk, as he stood opposite you outside of the car. Discreetly amused by this cat-and-mouse game, a competition of power, the two of you have going on. Nonetheless, he listened and set the umbrella on the floor of the car.

You feel defeated. After what you could only assume was an attempted subdual of your pursuits. You try ignoring how hard he is in his pants for a moment. Assuming that he has been playing you with how interested he really is,

“Please. I’ll do anything to not get sent back there. Really, anything.”

His expression falters and he’s now frowning at you,

“No, no, no. I don’t do shit like that. I respect women. You’re not going to bribe me to have sex with you like some sort of payment to get out of being brought back to your fucked up mafia family.”

Your stomach dropped with the shake of his head. Embarrassment washed over you with his rejection. You don't notice the way his eyes cast down your body, before taking a stride forward. He lightly grabbed your wrists and turned your body around, so you move backward towards the car.

His hips make contact with yours first. Pinning you against the closed rear door with his hands finding your neck and cheek.

“Instead,” his eyes bore into yours. Conveying the importance of his next statement.

“I’d very much prefer it if you beg me to fuck you out of your own free will.”

He hummed, ringing like a question against your ear, then pressed a kiss to it while patting your cheek. You could feel how hard he was.

Why is he playing these mind games? He has lied to your face in order to take you back home, lets you explore his body one minute, assaults you with an umbrella the next, and is now openly dry humping you against your dirty Camry.

Regardless, this handsome man is asking you for consent. You're also the naive woman who agreed to drive basically cross-country with said man only a few hours ago at a gas station. Why start questioning and trying to reason with your desires now?

“Please,” your fingers tugged at his belt loops to press him impossibly closer to you. He grinned against your jaw, and placed more kisses there. Clearly waiting for the okay before he pounced on you.

“I want-...No. I need you to fuck me. Feel how wet I am for you. I bet I’m dampening the front of your pants like this. I need you in me. I want to feel you. God. Please.”

“That’s better.”

He doesn’t have any intention of unpinning you from your car. There’s just more teasing. He’s still grinding against you. Sure, one hand slides up the front of your shirt to cup your breast through your bra. The other grabs your thigh to lift and hook it around his waist. His teeth nip at your neck and chest; creating an array of red splotched markings. But you thought you made it clear how desperate you were for him. Why the delay? Is this payback for choking him out earlier? He is officially indecipherable.

A beat passed.

“Are you seriously going to get off by pinning me to this car? You gonna dirty your fancy trousers by jizzing your pants?”

“Watch it,” He finally takes a step back. His cock is straining against his dress pants. Leaving not much up for the imagination as to how much he’s packing in the confines of his trousers. You licked your lips and felt your legs waver. Tempted to fall to your knees onto the gravely ground and take all of him into your mouth.

“You,” he points a finger. Bringing your attention back up to his eyes, “Need to learn more about patience, darling.”

Then he moved to sit back down in the driver’s seat. Leaving the door wide open.

Now you’re worried your cynicism just lost you your chance to hook up with him. Your self-deprecating mental mantra stopped when he glanced back your way,

“Y/N? Come ‘ere.”

Your legs guided you to him and sling themselves over his muscular thighs. Clambering onto his lap. Your ass hits the steering wheel and the abrupt honk of the horn makes you both jump. His hands find your hips. Giving them a firm squeeze.

“No yea, let’s alert the entire motorway we’ve pulled off over here to fuck. Maybe sit back again love, I don’t think that eighteen-wheeler passing by quite heard ya.”

With a playful smack to his chest, you then keep your hand on his defined pec for some stability. Your hips grind down against him to shut him up of any more sarcastic quips.

Tangerine’s eyes roll to the back of his head before guiding your hips down to repeat the previous motion. You slip your shirt off, but notice your bra is already unclasped. You toss it onto the floor as well.

“When did you undo my bra?”

“I cannot be skilled at my job without nimble and deft fingers,” he waggled them at you, “Although, I need to work on my kleptomania. It’s a bad habit that I’m not proud of.”

You giggled as your right hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Playing with his hair lightly. He leaned forward to suck a love bite onto your ample tit. As the purple-ish bruise blooms, he moves back with a self-satisfied smirk while looking up at you,

“y’re not gonna wring my neck now Y/N, right?”

Your hand that was trailing up his newly exposed chest, after undoing the buttons, found his chain again and pulled on it to tighten around his neck. Tangerine rocked his hips up into yours in response.

“I think I learned you'd be sorely disappointed if I didn't.”

As you kept a firm grip on the necklace, he met your lips for a kiss. The hand that wasn’t guiding your hips down to grind against his, snaked to the front of you. His pointer and middle fingers rubbed circles against your clothed clit.

You gasped against his lips. Placing a hand on his shoulder for leverage to lift your hips up, so his hand isn't squished between your bodies. His fingers slipped into your underwear. You whine as his cool rings make contact. One finger, two, then three pumping into you the best he can from this angle. His rings rubbing inside you deliciously.

Your head lolls backward as you moan out and he takes the opportunity to lean forward and attack your neck to suck kisses. Soothing the marks with his tongue afterward.

It began to feel cramped trying to move against each other from this driver’s seat. You were hunched forward. Your head almost hit the roof of the car to provide him with the ability to finger you.

“Think we should move this?”

Wordlessly, he slipped his fingers out of you, lifted you by your armpits, and tossed you into the backseat. As you were pushing yourself into a seated position, Tangerine all but dove after you. His hands skillfully slip off your panties. Adding them to the collection of random shit on the floor of your car. His warm breath so close to your core, clashing with the cool air the moment when he gets them off of you. Sending a shiver through your body.

He was shifting around as he tried to find a comfortable position for his legs. His failed attempt makes him pull away to look back at his current position with a scowl -

His hips were hovering over the floor of the car at an angle, knees bent slightly with his calves pressed tightly together on the center console between the two front seats. He took a moment to pull himself down into a kneeling position on the floor, but not without grumbling to himself.

“Jesus fuck. What kind of clown car is this?”

“You’re the one willingly bending yourself into an actual pretzel just to eat my pussy.”

He shot an annoyed look up at you with no true malice behind it. He held your gaze before spitting onto your cunt. His stare shifted down to the mess he just added to your already wet core. He sucked on his bottom lip before leaning in to lap at you.

His mustache rubbed at your sensitive clit, which had you arching off the seat to pull away but then pushed yourself closer to his mouth. His hands found your thighs to firmly keep you in place.

Your fingers wove through his hair to muse at his slicked-back curls.

Tangerine took his time eating you out. You watched the way his head lulled from side to side as he worked. His tongue flicked at your nub then concentrated on licking into your cunt. His fingers massaging your thighs as he holds them still and open. Your cries are egging him on. His eyes are closed and he’s humming against you as he eats you out. You're slowly edging closer. But you want to cum around his cock. So, you gave him a little pat on the shoulder to stop him.

When he pulled away his lips were shiny and hair disheveled. He lifted himself in a crouched position to reach over and open the back door. He skillfully clambered over you and out of the car.

“Come on then,” he hummed as he unfastened his pants. His mustache and lips were obscenely wet with your juices and his saliva. He’s watching you with his belt clinking against the rings on his quickly moving fingers.

You begin scooting closer to him but apparently, it wasn’t fast enough. Because he leaned in to grab your thighs and slide you to the edge of the seat. Your skirt rode up. Your bare legs hang outside of the car. Instinctively you wrapped them around his hips. Pulling him closer to you.

Tangerine bunched up your skirt around your stomach more and pushed his briefs and pants down enough to expose his cock. He bent further into the car to suck on your neck while his penis rubbed against you. Slicking himself up. You tilted your head to the side. Loving the feeling of his facial hair chafing your skin with his lips then soothing the spots he unintentionally irritated.

He put a hand for leverage next to your head on the seat, as he plunged into you. Tangerine let out a breathy moan.

“Oh. Fuck.”

He bottomed out with a groan. Kissing you languidly then down to suckle on your nipples. All while beginning to thrust deeply into you.

Your eyes are droopy, in the most blissed-out haze watching the way Tangerine focuses on fucking you. He's sitting up and back slightly. His hair in complete disarray. His eyes following the way he slides in and out of your pussy. He alternated his movements, from fast and shallow, to pulling all the way out and pushing in deep. He's watching the way his cock moved into you. There is so much control in the way his body moves and it clearly mesmerizes him too.

"Look at that. You're taking me so well."

You reached up to grip at his forearm. This caught his attention. He leaned closer, never stopping inside you. You caressed his cheek and your hand trailed down his neck to grasp at the gold chain again. With a low moan escaping from his bitten red lips.

“You feel so fucking good,” he all but growled out. His head tilted down again to watch himself move, which also decreased his airflow with his head at this angle. He hummed and you noticed his blue eyes hood with pleasure.

He’s close again, kissing you passionately. Grunting and groaning with every thrust against your lips. The hold he had on your hips tightened with your legs still wrapped around his. His loose belt clinked with the speed at which he was moving in you. Your back arching off the seat. Pressing your body to his, as he repeatedly hit the right angle inside you.

He's maintaining this brutal pace. You're desperately clenching and unclenching on his cock. His praises keep adding to your pleasure. But truthfully it didn't matter what he said or called you. His accent was enough of a turn on in and of itself.

His balls slap against you at every thrust and you’re almost certain you’re going to cum. You whine as Tangerine rubbed harsh circles on your swollen bud.

His hips bucking into you. Hitting that particular spot that had you seeing stars. His nimble fingers rubbed your clit and sent you tumbling over your edge. You bite your lip, trying to contain your moans that sound borderline pornographic at this point and throw your head back as you came around his cock.

After a few more thrusts, you felt him spill inside you. Tangerine letting out a guttural groan.

He waited a moment before carefully pulling out. You whimpered as the sensation of his cum running down your thighs makes you clench around nothing.

Tangerine tucked himself in his pants and helped you sit up. Adjusting your skirt, picking your shirt and panties off the floor before handing them to you.

He kissed your cheek then smoothed your hair back away from your face, "Have to make sure you're looking like new before we get you home.”

"Gee, thanks. But the hickeys on my body may give away that you tested out the merchandise before returning it.”

————

You're now in the passenger seat with Tangerine starting the engine back up. Making you more of a willing participant in this journey to Nevada after getting fucked in the backseat. A strong hand gripped your thigh. Giving it a firm but reassuring squeeze.

His nice gesture became hotter, as his hand slid higher up. Tangerine ran his fingers over the drenched fabric that stuck to your folds. You watched the way he kept his eyes on the road while his jaw tensed.

He then pressed on your knee. Closing your legs together. The loss of his warm hand on your sensitive pussy had you frowning. But you silently thank him for avoiding the overstimulation.

“I suppose you can bring me home. And maybe I’ll keep running away so my family sends a hot escort out after me every time.”

Tangerine’s lips quirked up into an amused smile as he gave you a sideways once over, “looking forward to it. It’s also only Wednesday. We still have quite a bit of road to cover before we reach Lemon outside of Nevada.”

You hummed with your eyebrows furrowed,

“Wait, Lemon? What’s your code name?”

“Tangerine.”

“Oh, like the fruit?”

A beat. His hand flexed on the wheel,

“Yea like the fucking fruit.”

*** Tag List ***

@catreadsthings @jxybirdie @simp-for-fictional-people @ajd-spam @littlefreakingfangirl @noz4a2 @28cnn @uglynuggy45 @scottsummersgf @family-video @the-hidden-pages @marshmelloyellow02 @e2lya

#this was my first attempt ever writing smut take it easy on me pls #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train movie #bullet train #smut #tangerine smut #tangerine x you #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #bullet train 2022 #lemon and tangerine

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jadewritesficshere · 11 months

Text

Insecurity 18+only

Steve Harrington x female!reader

shoutout to all my girlies who are self conscious about their chests.

Synopsis: You feel insecure about your boobs, but Steve shows you there is nothing to be insecure about 18+ ONLY

Contents: negative body image (descriptive about insecurities, self depreciating thoughts), pet names (Honey, Beautiful), groping, unprotected p in v (YALL PLEASE WRAP IT UP), creampie

The gnawing despair and shame that had started earlier in the night had continued to grow, becoming like lead in your stomach. It was movie night at the Harrington residence. As was the tradition after saving the world once or twice, the young adults would get together and watch a movie, eat pizza, and smoke if you felt so inclined.

Tonight was Eddie's pick, some B horror movie. You hadn't really paid attention, more focused on watching Nancy and Steve talking. The despondent feeling had started then, even if you knew they no longer had feelings for each other, you felt insecure. You felt as though you couldn't compare to Nancy. You loved Nancy, she was amazing. Hell, you weren't sure if you wanted to be her or be with her.

But you definitely knew you liked Steve. You hadn't even told Steve of your feelings for him, having your heart ripped out as you watched him go out on many dates, and feeling like an asshole for being glad they didn't end well.

The feeling grew as the movie started. Robin and Eddie, taking their roles as film critics seriously, talked about the techniques being used and made comments throughout. Nancy told them to hush many times, but they ignored her. It wasn't until one of the female characters had her shirt ripped open, causing her bare chest to be on display, that caused silence to occur. Her breasts were bigger than yours and perfectly even and round. Nipples that were hardened and like a beacon your eyes drifted to. Her breasts swayed in an almost hypnotizing way as she ran. You would have been the first to admit they were attractive.

"Damn," one of the guys had muttered, causing you to look over. Eddie's eyes were glued to the TV and for once he was silent.. Robin was blushing and her mouth was dropped open. Steve shifted on the couch, his hand going to adjust- oh.

Your stomach dropped and you felt like your veins had turned to ice. Of course this is what Steve would like. You didn't have a bad chest persay, but you were always self conscious of it. In fact, yours were uneven. Sure, they weren't an entire cup size different, but one cup of your bra would fit perfectly while the other was just slightly too big or too small depending on the bra. You knew that you were probably making a bigger issue out of things, but you couldn't help your insecurity. You noticed the difference every time you looked in the mirror, even if no one else did.

You hardly even noticed the movie ending. You couldn't even remember the plot. You nodded at the discussion Eddie had started, trying to make it seem like you had paid attention. You could feel Steve's eyes on you. "Are you okay?" Steve mouthed from across the couch. You smiled and nodded, but the look of concern didn't leave his face. Of course the one guy you wanted to seem normal to could tell something was off.

Slowly, everyone gathered their things to leave. Robin and Nancy left together while you were searching for your keys. Eddie had went to the restroom then left, saying something about a deal. You still couldn't find your keys. You always left them on the table in the hall, but they were nowhere to be found. This was just making your night worse. The icing on the cake. Like when you are already mad and your belt loop gets caught on the door handle. You grumble to yourself, when you hear Steve clear his throat.

You turn to glance at him. Steve had your keys in his hand. He jingled them before tossing them at you. You fumble with the catch, but don't drop them. Why the hell would Steve steal your keys?

Steve stood at the end of the hall in front of the front door. He had his arms crossed over his chest. "What's going on?" Steve demanded. You rolled your eyes at his tone, earning a glare," Seriously? You're acting strange, what happened?" "Nothing. Thanks for stealing my keys asshole." "It's called borrowing, you got them back." You attempt to slide by Steve but he blocks you. Almost like a game, you try to slide past and he blocks you.

You fake to the left, making Steve attempt to block you there, but slide past him on the right. You grasp the door handle but-

The handle slips from your grasp as Steve spins you around and pins you to the door. His arms blocking you on either side, holding onto your biceps. You drop your keys on the floor from surprise. A moment of silence between you two as you both realize the position you're in.

"What's going on? Did...did I do something?" Steve frowns at you. Your stomach drops at the look of disappointment on his face," No! Steve just...no." "You can't even look at me without frowning." His words make you realize you are indeed frowning. You must have been frowning at him all night. You attempt to smile, but the attempt is pitiful and Steve sighs," I'm sorry...I dont know what I did, but I am." "Steve you didn't do-" "No, no. Let me finish. I'm sorry that-" "Steve-" "-i never meant to make you uncomfortable, if you tell me what it is I can avoid doing it again-" "Steve I-" "- let me speak! I'm sorry i-"

"It's my boobs!" Your voice is loud, not yelling, but loud enough that there was no way Steve could ignore it. You bite your bottom lip and his mouth drops open slightly. He closes his mouth and swallows, your eyes flicking to his Adam's apple moving. You don't miss how his eyes snap down to your chest that was covered by your shirt.

"Uh I'm sorry?" Steve blinked a few times before looking into your eyes," I think I'm missing something?" Nerves wrack your stomach, embarrassed at the feelings of insecurity you had. You fidget under his gaze," Well I mean...the movie...she...mine don't look..."

Steve's eyes widen slightly with realization. "Oh Honey...there's nothing to be self-conscious about." You scoff at his words making him glare. "Seriously, all boobs are beautiful. Big, small, perky or not, I could go on. Even, uneven, doesn't matter to me.. Boobs are boobs. And they all are beautiful." "Not mine." Steve rolls his eyes," Yes yours." "Nuh-uh" "Yuh-huh!" You and Steve bicker back and forth before the thought fuck it runs through your mind.

You grab the hem of your sweater, yanking it up. You're glad now that you had worn the severely baggy sweater without a bra. Your breasts jiggle slightly with movement, Steve's eyes immediately darting to them.

He licks his lips as he stares at your chest. Your chest rising and falling with every breath you take. His gaze heavy, making you aware of what you just did. You go to lower your sweater and his hands dart out to hold yours up," Now hold on..."

He smirks at you and lowers one hand down to your left boob. He palms at it, making you realize how big his hand really is. He squeezes lightly before lifting your breast and letting go, watching your breast fall and jiggle. He groans and the sound goes straight between your legs. His other hand darts to your other breast. You can tell there is a difference in size against his hands, but Steve doesn't seem to care.

Your nipples start to harden from arousal and the cool air. Steve's eyes focused on the peaks as his thumbs rub over each one. A shudder runs through you and goosebumps run down your arms from Steve's feather light touch. Steve's eyes are lit up with barely contained lust.

"Don't know why you were concerned about these...They're perfect." Steve mumbles, dipping his head close to your chest before looking up at you. The unspoken question has you nodding your consent. Steve grins slightly before slowly kissing your chest. A kiss here and there. A slight bite. Licking and swirling his tongue. He sucks lightly on one nipple, sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your arousal start to dampen your panties. A light moan escapes your mouth before you bite your lip to hold it back. Steve groans at the sound before pulling back. "Fuck babe..." Steve exhales slowly. He closes his eyes trying to get a grip on himself. You aren't sure if you should lower your top or take it off. Steve shifts and your eyes dart down and-

Oh. A thrill of pride runs through you at seeing Steve's erection. Knowing you gave him that? Knowing you got him worked up just from the part of you that you are the most insecure of? It may not take away that insecurity fully, but it does help to lessen it in this moment. You lick your lips at the sight. Damn, it was big.

Steve's hands slowly grasp yours and lower your sweater. "We uh better put those away. Or I'm gonna have a hard time controlling myself." Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. You nod absent-mindedly. You pause and then say," Who says you have to control yourself?"

Steve growls and crowds you against the door. Your arms go over his shoulders, a hand in his hair and one on his neck. Your noses knock together slightly before his lips collide against yours. Soft but passionate. Your chest rubs against his as he pushes a leg between yours. The friction hits your pelvis as you both grind against each other.

You can feel the roughness of his jeans through the fabric of your pants, it hitting just right to feel amazing against your clit. You pull back with a gasp, Steve taking the opportunity to kiss down your jaw. You aren't sure if he maneuvers your head, or if you turn it to give him better access. You can feel a hint of pain as he nips his teeth, that turns into pleasure as he sucks and licks the spot. He trails down from your jaw to your neck, to the spot that makes your fingers and thighs clench. You know your underwear must be soaked at this point.

"Steve," you tap his neck to get his attention and he pulls back to look at you," Bedroom?" Steve's eyes light up and a blinding grin spreads across his face. He lets go of you and takes a step back. Steve grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand bigger then yours, but feeling like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Butterflies in your stomach taking flight as it felt so right.

Steve leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lightly closes the door and pulls his shirt off. You can't help inhaling sharply at the sight. Pale skin scattered with beautiful moles, like stars in the night sky. You want to kiss each one. His chest hair and that stupid happy trail, it made your mouth salivate. Steve flexes his biceps slightly, trying to show off. You wouldn't tell him, but he didn't need to show off for you. You thought he was beautiful just as he was. Even when he was a "loser" (his own words not yours).

You toss your sweater off quickly, not wanting to miss a second. You push your pants and underwear off in the same movement. It hit you suddenly, that you were naked in Steve's room. This had only happened in your dreams, and if this was one, you didn't want to wake up.

Your eyes dart back to Steve as his jeans come off with his boxers. Steve's dick stands to attention, lightly hitting his stomach. A smattering of curls neatly trimmed at the base. A prominent vein on its side. You can see a mole on one of his balls, and you still agree with your earlier thought of kissing every mole. You lick your lips at the thought. Steve goes to take his tube socks off and falters slightly, almost falling.

It takes some nerves away you didn't realize you had as you giggle at the man in front of you. Steve's face flushes with embarrassment, but that feeling goes away as he sees you getting comfy on his bed. In his mind, you look like you belong. Like this was the perfect place for you. Steve gets his socks off and tosses them away, stalking over to you.

Steve slowly crawls onto the bed and over you. You grin up at him as he braced himself over you. "Hi," you murmur before kissing him. You can feel one of his hands snaking down your arm and grabbing your hand. He holds your hand as you kiss, making your head spin. Something so innocent as holding hands mixed with the way his tongue was moving against yours made it feel incredibly dirty. You knew you would think about this moment every time you held hands, because now you weren't going to let his hand go that easily.

Steve slowly lines up, rubbing his dick through your folds. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine as he rubs against you clit. You whimper slightly, bucking against him. Once his dick is coated thoroughly with your arousal, he teases your hole with his tip. The lightest touch of pressure, just so you know he's there before he pulls away.

You can feel the head of his dick slip in slightly, both of you moaning. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. He slowly pushes in, pausing to give you time to adjust to his length. It has a slight sting of pain as you stretch to adjust for his size. Steve murmurs apologies as he kisses your face, going back to the spot on your neck he found earlier. You relax against him and he pushes in all the way.

You've never felt so full. The feeling was amazing. Steve slowly starts to pull out before pushing back in. Each thrust of his dick sending pleasure coursing through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to hit a different angle that causes you to moan.

Panting into each other's mouths as he thrusts into you. Steve moans wantonly, sending shivers down your spine. With every thrust he hits that spot that makes you see stars. You can feel your climax approaching. "Give it to me Honey," Steve murmurs, hand snaking down and circling your clit.

You crash over the edge before you realize you were even there. You spasm from pure unadulterated pleasure. Stars explode in your vision as ecstasy takes over. "Oh fuck you're-" Steve cuts off with a gasp as his hips stutter. You are floating through space, barely tethered to your body. You thought out of body experiences only happened when you were about to die, but the pleasure you felt sent you to new heights.

Steve's thrusts falter as he cums. You start to come back to earth as you feel his release paint your insides. Steve collapses on you, not in an unpleasant manner, but like a weighted blanket was laid on you. You wrap your arms around his waist in a loose hug (and if you squeezed his ass well thats just for you two to know). You can feel his heaving breaths as his chest rubs against yours.

Steve pulls back slightly to stare into your eyes. "Hi again," you giggle. "Hi Beautiful," He grins at you. You try to hide your face in his neck but he laughs and pulls back more, making you whine. "Don't go shy on me," Steve kisses your nose," I've seen you naked now. Nothing left to be shy about." You would argue but Steve kisses you again.

Steve slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss. You can feel his cum slowly drip out of you. He pulls back but you tighten your arms around his waist. "Hey, I'll be right back. Just gonna get a towel to clean up." Steve strokes your jaw. You reluctantly let go of the man so he can go get a towel. Steve leaves and returns quickly. A wet wash cloth in hand, Steve pauses at the sight of his release dripping out of you. You can tell he likes what he sees, making a mental note. He cleans you up, careful as you are still sensitive.

Soon, he is crawling back into bed next to you. He curls into you, wrapping an arm around your waist as his head goes to lay against your chest. You wrap one arm around his waist while the other hand goes to his hair. You both sigh contentedly. "Beautiful," Steve mumbles, kissing your breast. Yeah, your insecurity was definitely lessened in this moment. And you had a feeling that every time it started to grow, Steve would show you how he felt about them.

#Steve loves them all he does not care the size or shape #Steve is also canonically a hand holder during the deed so #He is the most boyfriend to boyfriend and idc if you aren't technically together in this #You are now like bro you aren't letting this man go #Also Steve spends a long time doing his hair and you think he hasn't tamed that jungle?#My man over here trimming and looking at the angles in the mirror to make sure it looks good #Personally I wouldn't care but thats just me #Anyways I love him and I love him and I love him #Is this purely self indulgent uh yes but I know I ain't alone in this so #Also I am so terrible at writing smut my mind goes blank and I just #Enjoy this poor attempt at smut aha #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington/female!reader #Stranger Things #LETS TRY POSTING THIS AGAIN CAUSE TUMBLR BLOCKED IT IN THE FEEDS AND YET I AM NOT SHADOWBANNED SO LETS TRY THIS AGAIN #Jade is Talking

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jungkook97 · 1 year

Text

admit it; jjk (m)

pairing: canon idol! & fwb!jungkook x staff!reader

word count: 3.1k

rating: ma

genre/warnings: romance, angst, smut, jungkook is a deeply insecure and jealous lil kiddo in this fic, you two are fwb, but jungkook clearly is getting too fucking attached bc he's m e s s y and he wants you so damn badddd like give him a chance!!!

18+ content: dirty talk, jerking off, sloppy handjob, unprotected sex (WRAP IT PEOPLE) and uhhh mouth fucking?? IS THAT WHAT THE PEOPLE WANT IDK

summary: you, taehyung and jungkook go out for the night much to jungkook's dismay. you looked fine as fuck tonight, and jungkook feels a certain type of way about it.

notes: my first attempt at smut lmaoooo pls don't kill me!!!

Jungkook hated bullshit. He hated things getting messy because like every Virgo, he wanted things to be clean and neat.

And yet, he committed the biggest crime of all time: catching feelings.

He didn’t know when it started with you. Probably last week in the middle of railing you, or maybe the night before when he caught you staring at Taehyung a little bit too long, making him feel for a hot second he wasn’t going to have you all to himself anymore.

Not that it mattered. What Jungkook knew was that he was an idiot.

Again.

There he was, standing over you like a complete fool, tongue swirling around his right cheek as you pressed him further.

It was around midnight when it happened, a nice little Saturday night, a perfect night to go out. You weren’t planning to do much besides grabbing a few drinks at the rooftop bar upstairs with Taehyung, who, for some reason, has gotten on Jungkook’s bad side. You knew after being friends-turned-fuck buddy that he was jealous because well, he has told you before jokingly about his possessive issues in the past.

“I can’t seem to share,” he would tell you before swooping in for a sloppy drunk kiss as you playfully suggested to make out with Jimin in the car last week, much to Jimin’s dismay. The residential Busan flirt hated public displays of affection, and seeing the two of you just eat each other every other time he saw you two was sickening.

In fact, everyone was pretty sick of it. It didn’t come from jealousy but rather, it was clear to everyone else that Jungkook was going through that cycle again, fucking through the rest of Seoul in order to forget his ex-girlfriend who dumped him for some billionaire because “specs”. You knew what the situation was (Taehyung had told it in great tremendous detail like the noisy dude he was), and you didn’t mind some sloppy seconds. After all, the fact that you can fool around with the most popular member of BTS sounded fun, and frankly, you weren’t looking for much.

However, it wasn’t to say that you didn’t enjoy the pining. Boy, was Jungkook bad at not showing it. But you, being the Leo dominant queen that you were, you enjoyed every single millisecond of his attention, especially when he was fucking you rentless in bed (or anywhere that seemed fit).

The way he gripped you tightly, his eyes boring into yours as his dick dug deeper in you with every gasp, every mewl that came out of your mouth. He was a menace, and he knew he fucked good.

Normally at this point, Jungkook would’ve pounced on you already, taking off the very skimpy see-through lace dress you were wearing and went to town, but weirdly enough, Jungkook was holding back some restraint. Maybe he was too tired to fuck, or wasn’t in the mood. You were worried, but also, the night was still young to mess with him.

“Just don’t,” he said, as you asked once again why you can’t go out. His brown eyes turned dark as you laughed, patting him on the shoulder in the most friendzone way possible to rile him. His nostrils flared up as he clenched his jaw, his tongue swirling even harder in his right cheek.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

It didn’t take long before Jungkook showed himself in the sea of strangers as you were dancing with his bandmate not that far away. You spotted him immediately as he wore a Calvin Klein jacket and hat combo, along with some dark jeans and stompers. His eyes were hidden in his cap as he moved closer to you, his hands firmly on your side as you pulled away from Taehyung.

“About time you showed up,” Taehyung smirked, his hand off of your back to avoid getting smacked by the youngest. “I was keeping her warm for you.”

Jungkook leaned into Taehyung and whispered what sounded like “fuck off” to signal that he wasn’t fucking around. The jazz loving singer shrank a bit, pulling himself away completely before clearing his throat.

“I’m going to take a piss. I’ll be back,” he murmured before winking at you. You returned the favor, blowing a kiss in his direction, only to be stopped by Jungkook blocking it. He was furious as his fingers gripped your waist tightly as you two swayed to the music to avoid causing a commotion. You smirked, playing innocent.

If there was something incredibly hot about your little fling with JK was the fact that he got jealous easily. Maybe because it was his insecurities from his last few failed relationships, or just the pure fact that he’s the least experienced in the group in terms of successful long-standing relationships, but you relished every moment of it. It boosted your little ego, especially since you previously had dated losers.

Jungkook on the other hand, was not a loser. He was a bonafide rockstar with hundreds of thousands of girls who would fall to his feet.

However, tonight, he fell on yours. He was a man after all, simple and horny.

As the music got slower, you began to sway your hips against his, leaving him growling softly under his breath.

“Stop that,” Jungkook commanded, biting his bottom lip. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

“Doing what?” you said nonchalantly and naively, your hands traveling down his torso. “What, you think I’d fuck Taeh–”

“Don’t say his fucking name.”

“Ooh, fiesty,” you cooed, leaning in and putting your lips to his ear. “I thought you said you don’t get jealous…?”

Jungkook sighed deeply, cupping your head with his other hand as he began slipping his other fingers through the holes of your dress.

“I can’t help myself when you’re literally naked in front of him, in front of everyone. That’s only–”

“–for you?” you moaned lightly back.

“Fuck.”

You felt him harden in front of you as your fingers lightly brush against his clothed cock, just throbbing underneath his jeans. He was breathing heavily at that point, his eyes wandering into yours as he was telepathically trying to tell you where he wanted to go.

“Admit it.”

“What?” he said breathlessly. You two were tightly intertwined at that point, his length throbbing against the pit of your stomach, waiting for you to suck him off.

“Admit that you like me.”

Jungkook froze a bit as you laughed, pulling away as Taehyung returned. He was still grinning as if nothing had happened as he patted his friend’s back. You pulled your arms around Taehyung to really do a number on Jungkook, in which, to your surprise, he only cleared his throat and looked away. He seemed…hurt.

Aw, baby’s hurt.

“Anyway, she and I were thinking of doing more drinks in the room if you wanna come along,” Taehyung suggested as you flaunted your curvy and delicious-looking body, getting not only for Jungkook to glare at Taehyung in jealousy, but a few others in the area.

“Come on, let’s go kick back,” you giggled, grabbing Jungkook’s arm to link it with you. He immediately relaxed at that gesture as Jungkook smirked, pulling you into him so he could share you with Taehyung.

“Yeah, why not? What’s the worst that could happen?”

You were having the time of your life. The heat in the room was impalpable as the three of you fanned yourselves with whatever slips of paper from the notepads as Taehyung hit the AC unit a bit harder once again.

“Dude, I don’t think that works,” Jungkook drunkenly laughed, his hand massaging your inner thigh as you pulled him closer. He was dripping in sweat even after taking his jacket off, revealing a tank top underneath. His tattoo sleeve was in full display, something that turned you on immensely every time he revealed it.

You leaned in, kissing the top of his tattooed shoulder. You could feel him stiffen, his thumb pausing what it was doing and hesitatingly, almost painstakingly, moving towards a direction that he knew Taehyung would not want to see in person.

You bit down on his shoulder to signify him to stop, but Jungkook didn’t care. All night, he had been suffering from the urge to fuck you on top of being drunk, and on top of Taehyung openly flirting and suggesting that they do some form of strip poker without any playing cards involved whatsoever (“We’ll figure that part out,” Taehyung waved vaguely and nonchalantly before popping open another bottle of wine). He was getting exhausted, his eyes slowly blinking to sleep as he yawned for the umphtenth time, but he also had plans to fuck you before he did.

“Maybe hit up downstairs to see if they could get this fixed?” you exhaled sharply, grabbing Jungkook’s hand from entering the folds of your underwear and pulling away, much to Jungkook’s dismay. He scowled quietly, leaning back against the bed as you pulled off of it, trying to find the number for the front desk.

“Hyung, why don’t you go down and find a guy to fix, yeah?” Jungkook asked, although it definitely did not sound like it. He was getting irritated, and the daggers from his eyes were clearly indicating he’d kill someone if he didn’t get what he wanted. Taehyung understood right away without even being the actual recipient of the glares, but rather the very hostile text messages from Jungkook consecutively to leave the room.

“Okay,” was all Taehyung murmured, waving goodbye and leaving the room without looking back. “Have fun in here,” he announced before unceremoniously shutting the door. You frowned, the phone still ringing for the front desk.

“He didn’t seem like he’s in a good mood.”

“I’m not, “Jungkook sighed, reaching towards you as the phone continued to ring. “Hang up. He’ll take care of it. Let me…” he started to massage your thighs again. “Let me take care of you, babe.”

He leaned in towards your neck, slowly smooching it as the other line picked up.

“Guest services, how can I help?”

“Um…”

Jungkook’s fingers started to make its way down your dress as he slowly unzipped it, his teeth still making marks on your neck. After it was halfway unzipped, he slipped through and underneath your sheer dress and into your breasts, cupping your nipples as he began to swirl them around with his fingers, twisting them because he knew how much you get turned on from your nipples alone. You held back a moan, your hand cupping his.

Putting the phone against the other side of your chest, you looked at him, shocked.

“What are you doing?!”

“Giving you what you deserve,” was all he replied, pulling you up against his body roughly to the point where the phone dropped from your hands, banging against the nightstand. You freaked out, trying to reach the operator to awkwardly hang up. You clicked once, pulling back your dress up from the straps, leaving the tone dead on the other end.

“Fuck, you almost put yourself in danger, you fucking idiot!” you exclaimed. “What if she heard us fucking over the phone?”

Jungkook leaned back, chuckling and pushing his hair up. He licked his lips after, chewing around his lip ring.

“That would’ve been fun, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes.

“It wouldn’t.”

“It would,” Jungkook smirked, his hand resting on your leg. “Much better than Taehyung seeing everything.”

Oh?

“What’s Taehyung gotta do with your fetish of voyeurism, JK?”

He clicked his tongue before turning away, looking towards the door.

“I’m saying I’d rather let a front desk girl listen to us fucking than having Taehyung seeing us fuck. But then again…”

He leaned in once again, now hovering over you. You let the straps of your dress fall down, revealing your bouncy breasts with the hardened nipples.

“...I don’t mind fucking you in front of him either. Gotta make sure he knows you’re fucking mine.”

You two started kissing, this time passionately as he pushed you against the headboard as you two’s tongues danced with each other. He moved down towards your breasts, suckling on your nipples as you moaned loudly, gripping his hair as he hungrily went at it, praising it. His hands pulled up the rest of your dress, revealing absolutely no underwear underneath it. This drove Jungkook absolutely insane. You were naked the whole night, in front of everyone…in front of Taehyung…

Did Taehyung knew? He thought. Was he jerking off in the bathroom while we were still out there? It only made sense that you didn’t wear anything, after all, your ass and breasts seemed a bit more bouncier than normal and he could clearly see your nipples throughout the night. He knew he didn’t imagine it because his dick had been hard for the past couple of hours.

“You fucking whore,” he whispered during kisses, pulling up to your mouth to passionately kiss you even more. Using his tattooed arm, he choked you as he kept kissing you silly, delirious from the heat that was coming from his genitals. “You’re such a fucking whore, wearing nothing underneath the whole night.”

“Yeah, I am,” you mewled, your hands pulling his pants closer to yourself as you spread your legs out, showing your newly waxed pussy. “I’m a fucking slut and I want you fuck me like a slut, Jungkook.”

He chuckled, his hands fidgeting his pants open. You began touching yourself as you dug your two fingers into your clitoris, rubbing it as you moaned for him. He was unraveling, still fiddling with his pants as you started to masturbate in front of him, peeling off both the straps of your dress to show your beautiful breasts on display on top of your wetting pussy.

“Come on, Kook…” you whispered seductively. “Come on, and fuck me good. Please. Please, fuck me really good…”

He pulled out almost immediately after you said it, his cock throbbing and wet with precum. He groaned loudly as you put your hands on it, slowly rubbing it.

“Fuck….” he uttered out, putting his hands to the sides of you, looking down as you slowly began to move your fingers back and forth along his shaft, your tongue out and rolling around your lips.

“It looks so fucking good, Kook,” you said in your tiniest voice, knowing that Jungkook absolutely loved hearing it. “I want to suck you off…or maybe…” you leaned in closer, licking the tip, “you can fuck my mouth instead.”

“Fuck…”

You began suckling at the tip of his cock, massaging the rest of it with your fingers as you bobbed up and down, sucking it in the most sloppiest way. Jungkook buckled his hips, moaning loudly as you quickened the speed as he cursed his way nonsensically at you, mixing between English and Korean. You quickened your pace, vocalizing as you gave him the best blowjob of his life.

“Fuck, you’re such a fucking slut,” Jungkook exclaimed, growling and starting to shove his cock into your mouth, making you go even faster. You began to choke, but with much restraint, you clenched your jaw even more, looking up right at him as he continued to fuck your pretty little mouth. “Fuck, baby, please…you’re so fucking good to me.”

You pulled away as Jungkook started to heaven as a pool of precum came out, spilling on your dress. You smiled, laughing at how undone Jungkook was at that point as beads of his sweat dripped on your face. You did one last little lick on his cock before pulling yourself up towards him, his eyes glazed a bit over.

“Fuck, you’re too good to me,” was all he said.

“Is fuck the only word you can say, baby?” you whimpered, pushing your shoulders together for your tits to be up in his face.

Jungkook’s lips came into contact with yours again as he pushed you down, his hands now grasping most of your sheer dress. You spread your legs wide open for him as he started to position himself to dig his cock deep into your pussy, wanting to rail you until you came all over him.

“You’re just asking to get cum in your little pussy,” Jungkook growled, gripping more and more of your dress as you nodded excitedly, still showing off your breasts.

“Come on, baby,” you urged, shaking your tits. “Fuck me until all I can say is fuck.”

Jungkook pushed himself in, groaning from pleasure as he did. You mewled after him as he pounded into you harder and harder. Every bit of his cock was juicing you inside, your walls are leaking with cum as he pushed deeper and deeper in. The rhythm was the fastest but steadiest you’ve ever experienced as you moaned for his name, gripping the sheets as he railed into you.

“Fuck…Jungkook…” you said in between thrusts, sighing deeply as you let your breasts bounced free. Soon, Jungkook took them and started to caress them, grunting more and more as he did.

“You like this fucking cock, don’t you,” Jungkook growled, pushing deeper and deeper with his thrusts. “Admit it. Admit you fucking like this cock.”

You could feel the build up to the orgasm as you continued your rhythmic moans, breathing heavily as you two worked up a sweat.

“Fuck, I love your fucking cock, Jungkook!” you admitted as he gripped your ass, pulling you closer to him. As he got faster and faster, the wave had built up all the way, making you ready to release. And as you do–

“FUCK!” Jungkook exclaimed out, letting out a loud moan as he released all his cum inside of you, shaking as you threw your head back, orgasming as well. You could feel his cum being pushed up from your contractions as he continued to dig into you, his hands on either side of you as he released every last drop into you.

You laughed lightly as you began kissing his cheeks, thanking him for the fun time.

“Aw, you’re in love with me aren’t you?” he chuckled, whipping his hair back. “Admit it.”

“In love with the way you fuck me, yeah,” you replied cooly. You weren’t going to let him get away with it, but you were just a bit more romantically into him after seeing how caught up he was.

Knock knock.

“Are you guys done in there?” Taehyung’s voice echoed in the room. Flushing deeply, you two started scrambling to get your clothes together.

“Uh, give us a bit!” Jungkook yelled back, his face red. You giggled. As he pulled his shirt on, you leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. He flushed harder, laughing quietly to himself.

“Admit it.”

Knock knock.

“Yes. I do like you. Happy?”

[END]

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook scenarios #writing #mine #i also love toxico jungkook so leave me the fuck alone fkdsalgha;ghewalghg #reader is also a terrible person if you haven't noticed like she does not care for him fhkdlagh;ghld #anywayys here's my first attempt at smut <3 so bad #if this ends up getting the most notes im gonna kms bc i know smut does well here hfdl;akgh

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eksvaized · 7 months

Text

‘don’t be a tease’ [ 1 ]

>>> MDNI, 18+

>>> fem!reader x könig

>>> tags: OnlyFans, smut, dirty talk, au (kind of), pet names, etc.

>>> word count: 1868

>>> render by: @661ave

AustrianKing tipped you $100.

You were kneeling on the bed, running your hands over your body. With each passing moment, you could feel yourself sinking further into the softness of the mattress.

‘unwrap the robe, doll.’

As you watched yourself on the laptop, which was placed on the bed in front of you and whose screen was lowered to obscure your face, leaving only your form in the frame, your fingertips caressed your soft flesh, your nails skimmed lightly over the exposed skin.

Even if the stranger couldn’t see your face, you nodded your head, like an obedient girl, and murmured a very muffled, almost voiceless okay. Your tongue grazed your bottom lip, a surge of excitement causing your heart to race.

Although this wasn’t your first time undressing in front of the camera, while some stranger, who you couldn’t see or hear, watched you, it still took you some time to build up confidence; the heat rushed to your cheeks, colouring your face bright red as you threw your hair back, tucking a loose strand behind your ear.

Your fingers undid the loose knot, letting the fabric slide off your shoulders. However, before the robe could fall down, you grabbed it, only revealing your collarbone.

Normally, you wouldn’t be such a little tease. However, you knew that if you drew out the time and continued to be slow and deliberate with your movements, you would waste half of your evening, but you would also collect more tips from the stranger, who was undoubtedly eager to see that silk robe vanish.

AustrianKing tipped you $150.

‘don’t be a tease, princess. take it off. now.’

You bit your bottom lip harder, sinking your canines into the soft flesh. Your grasp on the fabric gradually relaxed, allowing it to flow down your curves and pool beneath you; you didn’t even bother picking up the robe and tossing it to the ground, even though you knew it would be ruined and stained by the time you finished the video call.

You placed your palms on your thighs, dragging them up, letting your acrylics trace up your tummy, sending a jolt of heat up your spine. Your upper half was completely devoid of clothing, leaving you feeling exposed and coy. The man's consistent generous tips and compliments boosted your confidence, gradually erasing your shyness and leaving you feeling alluring and wanted.

The chill in the air caused your nipples to instantly stiffen, a visible sign of a sudden change in temperature. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and the chilly breeze flowing in through an open window caused goosebumps to arise all over your body.

You had taken off the robe, but you were still wearing a pink thong that barely covered anything and left very little to the imagination.

AustrianKing tipped you $200.

‘lay down and spread the legs for me, doll.’

You allowed your back to hit the mountain of pillows, your head resting against the headboard. You slowly parted your legs while continuing to tease and play with your nipples, squinting slightly and focusing your gaze on the screen to ensure that your face was still covered; you weren’t ashamed of your side hustle, but you preferred to keep it and your personal life separate, which meant you had to keep your face hidden.

You did not know who the stranger was or what his name was. And despite trying to find him on other social media a few times, when you were bored and had nothing better to do, you could never find anything other than some weird online profiles with no pictures, so you had no clue what he looked like either.

But none of that really mattered.

He was only a subscriber at first, someone who watched you while you made yourself cum in front of the camera, letting the audience see how pretty you looked while squirming on the bed, tangled in the soft sheets, legs spread wide as desperate whimpers and needy moans, which you tried to suppress, slipped past your pretty pink lips. But after months of silent tipping, he dared to send you a message and request a private session.

You were reluctant to agree to it. You’d never done anything like that before, and you weren’t sure if having a one-on-one session with a stranger was something you were comfortable with. However, the money (not to mention the tips he still kept sending) was too good to pass up.

AustrianKing refused to turn on his camera, and he never spoke. Instead, he preferred typing, talking with you through messages, and sending way too much money, which you assured him wasn’t necessary because he had already paid you for the session, but he insisted on giving you more, so you soon gave up and decided to enjoy the extra cash.

The stranger was controlling. He liked being in charge and watching how you eagerly followed his every command, desperate to please him and yourself.

In the beginning, it was strange, and the first private call was awkward. Having someone direct your every action - from the placement of your hands to the way you should angle your body and even dictating when you’re allowed to climax - was a new experience for you. But you got used to it and even began to prefer these sessions over regular livestreams since you could turn off your mind and let someone else control you.

AustrianKing tipped you $250.

‘tease yourself. show me what a desperate little slut you are.’

You closed your legs, elevating your ass for a split second to hastily slip off the thong, leaving the fabric dangling loosely around your ankle. You pulled the laptop closer to the edge of the bed before laying down and letting your back sink into the pillows.

As you looked at the screen and your eyes were met with the sight of your glistening, aroused pussy, a soft, seductive moan escaped your lips. The sound of your fingertips grazing against your delicate folds filled the room, heightening your, and his, anticipation.

The intoxicating scent of your arousal filled the air, adding to the sensual atmosphere. With effortless ease, your fingertips glided between your moist, inviting folds, spreading them apart, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and allowing the stranger to see how needy you were, and what a mess he had made of you, while not even being in the same room as you, stuck on the other side of the screen.

At first, you teased yourself slowly, taking your sweet time and letting the pleasure build up gradually. After you coated your digits in your juices, you began to play with your clit, circling it, moving your fingertips at a controlled speed, and having to apply a lot more pressure than usual because it was difficult to get some friction.

No matter how much you wanted to throw your head back and sink into the mattress, letting the sheets swallow your body, you forced yourself to keep your eyes open; you had to make sure that you didn’t miss any messages that occasionally popped up on the screen.

But when your muscles tensed and your toes curled as the knot in your stomach continued to coil, getting tighter and tighter, making your breaths grow messy and erratic, a message popped up on the screen.

But so far, there was nothing and the stranger, who was usually quite bossy, today seemed to give you free rein, which you were planning to use efficiently and make yourself cum before he could tell you otherwise.

AustrianKing tipped you $300.

‘you’re not allowed to cum, unless I give you the permission.’

You groaned and parted your lips, taking a long breath in and letting the irritated sigh escape. The muted voice in the back of your head urged you to ignore the message, maybe pretend that you didn’t see it, because you were so close: a little nudge, a few more seconds, and you would push yourself over the edge. But instead of rebelling, you slowed down your rhythm in the hopes of delaying the climax.

AustrianKing tipped you $350.

‘pick the pace back up, princess. you’re not allowed to slow down, you’re not allowed to cum. be a good girl for me.’

Usually, you didn’t talk, and the only sounds coming from you that could be heard were heavy breathing and desperate mewls, which you sometimes attempted to suppress. Still, as you continued to circle your clit, your hips began to roll, and you couldn’t keep your pretty pink lips sealed any longer.

“P-please… just.. I can’t anymore..” You inhaled sharply, your voice desperate and high-pitched. “I want to cum.. I need to.. Please..”

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it together. Your fingers started to twitch. Your skin felt as if it was on fire. Your hair was sticking to your neck, and whiny moans kept slipping out of you, echoing off your bedroom walls.

AustrianKing tipped you $400.

‘start counting. if you don’t finish in ten seconds, you aren’t allowed to cum today, doll.’

Of course, he couldn’t just make it all simple for you, but perhaps that’s what you liked about him and about these private sessions. Most of the time, you were in control, but you relished succumbing to a stranger, someone you’d never met, and allowing them to control you and everything that you do.

You counted. Slowly. But no matter how hard you tried to drag out the seconds, they were still ticking away, and the time was running out. You quickened your pace, spreading your legs even wider. Your thighs trembled, but you resisted clasping them together.

“Five… four..” It was difficult to talk and breathe simultaneously. Your mind was void of thoughts, and all you could think about and focus on was the impending pleasure as you chased your orgasm, desperate to make yourself cum.

“Three..” You took a long pause before resuming counting. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your body writhed on the bed, your hips swayed in rhythm, and a damp patch formed beneath you as you continued to rub yourself dumb.

“One… ahh-mhh. F-fuck.”

The knot in your lower stomach uncoiled, your legs clasped together, entrapping your hand as your thighs quivered. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your lips were visibly red and swollen from you chewing on them, and you struggled to maintain control over your voice as your moans got louder, needier, and more desperate.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but when you pushed yourself to sit up again, grabbing the robe and draping it clumsily over your body, the stranger had already disconnected.

AustrianKing tipped you $450.

‘good girl.’

During the brief thirty-minute session, you not only left a mess on your sheets, but you also reached such a mind-blowing orgasm that you felt completely helpless; your body was numb from all the stimulation.

But instead of a pack of instant noodles, you will be able to order some takeout tonight. Maybe something from your favourite restaurant. So saying that those thirty minutes today were the most productive part of your day would be a vast understatement.

#this is my first attempt at this kind of story so bear with me #call of duty #cod #könig cod #könig x reader #könig x you #dbat:konig #smut #konig cod #konig x reader #konig #konig call of duty #writing #dirty talk #pet names #fem!reader

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youchangedmedestiel · 1 month

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Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 4,159

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Season/Series 12, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Getting Together, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, First Kiss, Second Kiss, and then more kisses, Smut, they are so gone for each other, and they obviously look at each other a lot hence the title

Summary:

Team free will is in the car driving back from a hunt when Sam mentions Cassie, Dean's ex from at least 10 years ago. After Cas mistaking it was about him, the conversation evolves into describing how Dean is when he is in love. It all clicks in Sam’s head as he tells Cas how Dean was behaving around Cassie. 10 years replaying in his mind all of a sudden. Cas asks him what he understood and Sam tells him Dean is in love with him. From there, nothing is stopping Cas anymore. This fic was written for the 5K by 5 May event.

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 1 year

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And In The Middle of My Chaos There Was You

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: You're a Naval Aviator at Top Gun, and you finally feel like your career is progressing. Sure, you have to fight to be heard and avoid being disregarded because you're a woman, but that's par for the course at this point in time. If only the men in your cohort weren't so pissy at being beaten by a girl. What will you do when you find yourself facing a situation you've only heard of in the news? Is your knight in shining armor, actually that? Or does he want to take advantage of you at your lowest?

Disclaimers: Female!Reader, All the warning above!

Warnings: There are quite a few warnings on this one! Near sexual assault, misogyny, Male chauvinist pigs, Hurt/Comfort, Jake is a dick at first, Sex, Angst, Crying

As a reminder, everyone's experiences are different. Everyone's experiences are valid. This is a fictional story.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CONSUME ON THE INTERNET. PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC IF IT IS TRIGGERING TO YOU IN ANY WAY.

Word Count: 4872

A/N: I'm insatiable, and I swear I need to be stopped. I have three WIPs shaking a spear at the writer avatar of myself in my brain right now, and I'm still churning out one-shots like this one. Top Gun Brain-Rot: 1, Star: -100

I was a little hesitant to post it because it's different from other things I've written, and I hope I've handled this sensitive topic wisely. This was an incredibly hard fic to write because of the topic.

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

The US Navy's Naval Fighter Weapons School, colloquially known as Top Gun, is the most selective program you can be selected for as a Naval Aviator, and you've finally made it. You've worked hard to get to this spot in your career. You've put in countless hours of training, learned from every single one of your mistakes, and perfected the flying style that gained you the callsign Hummingbird. Point being, you're good, you're damned good, and you're going to prove it. You've got an itch under your skin, goading you to fight for that trophy. You need it. You've been fighting the shackles of male dominance since you decided to become a fighter pilot, and this is what will prove to them you're where you belong.

The only problem is there are nineteen or so other pilots in your class all with the same urge bubbling under their skin. The worst of the lot is Jake Seresin, callsign Hangman. He'd been gentlemanly at first, opening doors for you, handing you your pen when you dropped it during lectures, not flirty, but nice. Then you'd gone up against him on the first hop and smoked him. You'd been the only person in your cohort to beat the Hangman. After that, when your name and callsign had been at the top of the rankings, the gentleman schtick had been shredded and discarded faster than a tissue in a windstorm.

He’s now the ringleader of a group of five or six men in your cohort who seem hell bent on bringing you down. It’s obvious by now to them that they can’t do it while you’re flying. So they try to be intimidating, peacocking and talking shit and looming over you like their physical presence alone would be enough to knock you from the rankings. You’ve heard it all.

“It’s because she’s pretty, y’know, boys?” His Texan drawl had spit those words out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms two weeks ago. “She must be fucking Admiral Simpson. There is no way she’d be at Top Gun otherwise, not how she flies.”

It was so fucking easy for them to say that. It’s the only thought in your mind as you keep your face blank and muscle your way through the group of them on your way to and from the locker room every day. They don’t have a glass ceiling they need to shatter to be heard. They can just open their dumb mouths and the world falls at their feet. You and Phoenix, in the meanwhile, the only two women in your cohort, have to go above and beyond. It’s your hard work and nothing else that got you to Top Gun. So why does it feel like a hollow victory whenever you out-perform on a hop and have to hear the vitriol pouring out of Hangman’s mouth? You’d thought there was at least one man you’d never have to worry about. Boy were you wrong.

Today was the day of hop 25. You hadn’t smoked all the boys in this one, and you knew it was because it exploited all of your weaknesses in the air. Hangman hadn’t given up the opportunity to hold his success over you either. He’d been in your space all day, and all you wanted to do was go for a run, take a hot bath and order greasy chinese takeout so you could stuff your face. Your failure feels like a blanket coating your skin as you tie your sneakers and pop your headphones into your ears.

It’s only a few minutes before you’re jogging down the beach. It’s a beautiful day and with each slap of your sneakered feet against the pavement you can feel your disappointment and anger melt away. Soon the only thing in your head is the rush of endorphins and your steady breathing. You’re about four miles away from your quarters on base when you finally stop running. Your legs feel like jelly as you drop to sit on the sun-warmed sand and chug some water. The beach has to be your favorite part of living in San Diego, at least temporarily. Being able to just sit in the hot sand and watch the pounding waves always takes you out of your head in a way that only alcohol and orgasms have before.

You’re startled out of your meditative state when a series of shadows blot out the sunlight in front of you. It’s three men staring at you. Their gazes are predatory, gazes heavy over your exposed legs, shoulders and midriff.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?” The first man’s voice sends shivers down your spine as you scramble to your feet. They’re about six inches away from you, but as you stand, you soon find yourself surrounded. A hand clasps your upper arm as the ringleader crowds into your space. You can smell beer on his breath and see unknown greenery in his teeth as he leers down at you. You can smell the sour scent of his sweat as he looms over you, corpulent and disgusting. All the hair on your body is standing on end as you try and fail to summon all of the confidence that you exhibit when you’re in a fighter jet. The ringleader’s ham hands plant on your waist, and that’s when your fight and flight response kicks in. You shove the other men’s hands off of you, throwing your metal water bottle into one of their faces for good measure. Then you kick the ringleader right in his family jewels. He falls with a satisfying thud and groan of pain and you’re left to try and run away.

Your adrenaline pounds as you jolt across the beach. You’re screaming at the top of your lungs with each step you take. You only get a few steps away before you’re stopped by a vicious yank to your hair. Your eyes water as you try to kick the men away. There’s a man holding your arms behind your back when you’re dragged back to the leader. His jaw is still clenched, face red and dripping sweat as he cradles his balls and tries to catch his breath.

“We’ve got a live one, don’t we gentlemen? Now why don’t we see what she has going on under that itty bitty sports bra. You’re just a little slut, aren’t you? Running down the beach in those tiny clothes?” You’re struggling when that hand rips your sports bra at one of the straps, but before he can put his hands on your skin, he’s being pushed away. His goons drop their grasp of you to go help the ringleader and you collapse to the sand clutching your tattered bra to you and watch your savior fight them off. It’s Jake! He’s already knocked the leader out and your heart is in your throat as you watch his fight with the other men. The struggle has brought other people to the sand and even the police. It’s a relief when the police officers handcuff the men and walk them away.

You’re just staring blankly into the ocean water when you feel soft fabric being handed to you. It’s Jake and he’s looking at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Hey, Hummingbird. Can you wear that for me, sweetheart? It’s getting cold out here. I talked to the police officers for you and gave them your contact info. They want to see us tomorrow.”

His first words send hot droplets of tears welling from your eyes. How can you do this? Be Hummingbird, the woman who can outfly any man on base while being the fragile creature you feel like right now? You note distantly how his face falls as you sob before him. His hands are gentle as he helps you put your arms into the sleeves of the shirt and buttons it until you’re decent.

“I’m going to hug you, sweetheart. Is that ok?” Your nod is barely a bob of your chin when he wraps his arms around you. You’re crushed against his broad chest and as you curl into his skin you can’t help crying harder. He’s safe. Jake’s safe and he’s going to keep you that way. You don’t know where that bone deep surety came from. He hates you and he’s your rival. But you don't care right now.

All you can feel is his bare skin. You can hear the beat of his heart as he positions you on his lap and feel his hands as he wraps them carefully around your waist. The gentle caress makes you sob harder as you nearly scream into his bare chest. You feel scraped raw, like those men had robbed you of everything you are. It’s nearly dark out when your tears finally run out. In the half light on the beach you can barely see the man you’re curled into, but you can feel the steady whooshing of his breath as he holds you as long as you need.

Your voice is soft and hoarse as you pull away, “Thank you, Jake. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I have sisters. I did what I would’ve wanted any other man to do for them.” You can see his jaw clench in the half-light as he nearly growls the words. “Did they hurt you?”

“The big one, he pulled my hair.” You can’t stop the catch in your throat as you think of what he did to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Let me take you home?” He cradles the back of your head gently, long fingers probing the tender parts to ensure you’re not seriously hurt.

“Okay.” You’re still unable to look him in the eye as he slips you off of his lap and helps you stand. His hand is huge as he carefully envelops your hand in his own and walks you to his truck.

“Y’drove here?” Your voice is slurring, exhaustion haunting every movement as the fear and adrenaline fade away.

“Yeah, baby. I was going to grab dinner with a friend at a restaurant a bit up the beach. I always park here and walk up the beach to get there.”

“M’sorry, Jake. I spoiled your plans.” Your voice is quivering again as you wrap your arms around your waist.

“No. You didn’t, baby. Keeping you safe means more than canceled dinner plans.” He pulls the door open and carefully helps you into the cab.

Your heart is pounding. Jake Seresin is being sweet to you. He let you cry in his arms, he saved you from sexual assault, and now he’s making sure you get home safe.

“Your quarters are on base, right?” His voice is gentle as he tries to find your frazzled thoughts.

An irrational jolt of fear pulses through you at the thought, and you can’t keep yourself from letting the words from spilling past your lips. “Yeah, but I don’t want to go there. Please, I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

“That’s understandable sweetheart. I’ve been living in my brother’s apartment off base. Can I take you there?”

“Yes, please.” His jaw is clenched as he drives. You’ve shoved your shoes off and are curled up in the big bucket seat as you watch the light play over his face. It’s silent as he drives the truck and you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you know is you’re being carried carefully up a set of stairs.

“Jake?” Your arm is curled around his neck as he carefully carries you.

“You awake, baby?” He sets you carefully down on his front door mat as he unlocks the door and ushers you in. You’re a little curious as to how he lives, because even after a fistfight on the beach, there isn’t a hair out of place on his head. It’s a bachelor’s apartment, but clearly lived in. There’s a throw over the back of the sofa and a couple of dishes in the sink. When you stop your slow examination, you see Jake leaning against the kitchen counter. He’s smirking gently.

“Like what you see, baby?”

“It’s not what I’d expect from you, Seresin.” Your voice is straining to be light as you smile half-heartedly at him.

“Oh yeah?” His voice contains a shade of the normal teasing he usually uses with you. “What would you expect of me?”

Your voice is bitter and harsh as you chuckle mirthlessly, “Not a knight in shining armor, that’s for sure. The worst part is, I don’t even know what to think. You were nice in the beginning. Then overnight you turned into the biggest dick I’ve ever met. Why didn't you let them do whatever they wanted? You hate me anyways. If they did what they wanted to, I'd have probably dropped out and you could've gotten Top Gun.”

You’re not expecting the joy to leave his eyes. He’s serious now. You’re not looking at Jake Seresin anymore. This is Hangman. You can’t help the gasp as he tugs you towards him before he spins the two of you until you’re caged between the island counter and his body. His voice is a barely restrained growl as he looks at you.

“I want to win Top Gun fighting against you the whole way. Darlin', I don't hate you and I never meant a thing I said. I was just trying to get into your head. Not degrade your sense of self. Truthfully, you're the most captivating, intelligent, sweet-hearted, gorgeous woman I've ever met.”

Your heart is in your throat as you glance up at him. Each breath has your chest brushing against his.

“Never question why I saved you. You are the best of the best. This is just a blip in your career. Tomorrow we'll go give your statement to the police and get those asswipes all locked up. Then, you’re going to kick our cohort’s asses, mine included, and accept that trophy. And I’ll be cheering for you every step of the way.” He’s so close to you that you can see the different variations of mossy green swimming in his captivating eyes, and especially how he keeps looking at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” Your voice is gentle as you cup his jaw, “make me forget what it feels like to have their hands on my skin.”

The first tender press of his lips to yours has you gasping, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melt into his embrace. His hands are gentle as he lifts you onto one of the barstools, tracing gentle patterns on your ribs as he slides his hands under the shirt he’d given you. You’re panting as he finds the torn fabric of your sports bra. Each gentle press of his fingers has your cunt clenching in need as he chases the phantoms of the unfriendly touches away.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” Your nod is gentle as you unwind your arms from around his neck. You shudder as he slips each button out of its hole and moan appreciatively when he finally pushes the entire garment off of you. You’re left with only the torn sports bra covering your breats and even that’s off shortly. His eyes are hungry as he gazes over the expanse of your skin laid bare for him. Jake drags you into another all-consuming kiss as his hands send heat shooting across your skin. His lips trail hot down your throat, laving across your pulse point before trailing wetly across your breasts. They latch onto one of your nipples, nuzzling, licking and sucking before he places another kiss to your mouth.

“Can I take you to the shower, sweetheart? We’re both covered in sand. Let me make you feel good in the shower.” His voice is a purr against your ear as his hands cup your ass.

“Yes! Please!” Your voice is breathy and high pitched as he picks you up. Faced with his hot skin against yours again, you can’t resist peppering kisses of your own across his shoulders, and collar bone. You feel delirious, swept up in the thrall of his warmth and the scent of his skin, something citrusy and light but woody with a touch of musk. Jake’s arms are like steel cages around you, but you’d like nothing more than to stay in them forever. That feeling of safety courses over your skin with each step.

He sets you on the bathroom counter, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air as he turns the shower on before stepping in between your parted legs. It’s in the bathroom light that you finally get to explore the full expanse of his bare torso. You’ve seen Jake topless before, when you’d been dragged out to compulsory cohort bonding activities on the beach. You’d marveled at the play of light over his torso and the light dusting of soft hair a shade or two darker than on his head, thankful that your sunglasses hid your gaze. But here, when it’s just the two of you, you let your eyes drink their fill. When your eyes drift back to his, there’s an amused glint in his eyes.

“D’you like what you see, sweetheart?” His hands find your ass, calloused fingers dipping below the band of your exercise shorts as he slowly begins to nudge the fabric down. You can feel the heat rising to your face as he exposes your sodden core to his gaze before discarding both the shorts and your panties to the floor at his feet. He wraps his arms around your hips before blowing a stream of air over your sensitive folds. It has your bare skin goosing with pleasure as he presses a kiss against each calf before stepping back so you can hop off the counter. Now you can see the considerable bulge in his exercise shorts. You can’t resist trailing your finger gently over it before stepping into the shower, calling over your shoulder, “I love what I see, Flyboy. Now are you joining me or are you going to stand there and look pretty?”

As you step under the stream of perfectly hot water, you can’t hide your chuckle as you hear Jake struggling to get the shorts off. You can feel all the stress of the day slipping off of your body and into the drain just as the last grains of sand do. Jake’s hands at your waist finish the job. You're tugged against his firm chest and your moan of pleasure as his big hands knead your skin is lost under the patter of water drenching the stall. His cock is hard and thick against your ass as he gently rocks his hips against you.

You turn in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck as you kiss him. Jake returns the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. You can feel your body clench, muscles drawn tight at the promise of the pleasure his body can wreak on yours as he devours your mouth.

“Jump.” his voice is a sensual growl against your ear, and you’re only too eager to comply. He’s gentle as his big hands cup your ass. He presses you against the cool tiles of the shower and your shuddering moan at the contrasting temperatures is silenced with another all-consuming kiss. Jake buries his head between your breasts for several long moments, and his voice is absolutely wrecked when he speaks again, “You’re so beautiful, my gorgeous fiery, sweet girl. And I nearly lost you today.” His lips are indescribably tender as he presses kisses across your skin. Your fingers are buried in his soft hair as he sucks your nipples into his mouth nibbling and laving his tongue over tender peaks until your core is jerking against his stomach.

“Jake!” Your voice is a strung-out squeal as he pulls away from your breasts and lifts you higher.

“Put your legs on my shoulders and hold onto my hands. I’m going to eat you out until you scream my name. Now’s your chance, pretty bird. If you don’t want this, we can just shower and I can take you to bed.”

Your only response is to push his head to your core. The first swipe of his tongue over your heat has your back arching, core clenching as Jake eats you out with abandon. Your thighs are already quivering with the strain of not squishing his head between them. His nose nudges your clit with each thrust of his tongue into your heat and you’re reaching your orgasm impossibly fast.

“Jake!” You’re screaming his name, babbling about how good he makes you feel when you cum, thighs constricting as tight as a vice around his head before your body finally, blessedly, goes slack. Your knees are wobbly when Jake finally sets you on your feet. You cling to his waist, praying that your legs will cooperate enough to let you at least stand stably. You know you’ve got a dopey grin on your face when you look back at him.

“Y’ok, baby?” His voice is gentle as he wraps his arms around you.

“Yeah, better than. I’m good, Jake. I’m very good.” You’re smirking at him when he turns you until your back is pressed to his chest.

“Y’good enough to let me fuck you until we make you cum again?” As he’s speaking his hand is pressing wickedly between your folds, slowly fingering you. You don’t respond outright, too busy chasing the sensations his talented long fingers wreak on your body. You’ve forgotten what you should be responding to, in fact, when he stops moving his hands in their entirety. It’s when his hands tweak your nipples that your attention snaps back to Jake.

“Jake?” Your voice is gentle, half whining as he cups your breasts. “What happened? Why’d you stop?”

“You didn’t respond, baby. Wanted to make sure you were onboard with what I wanted to do to you.” His mouth presses kisses across your pulse as he waits for your eager consent.

“Jake.” This time, you’re moaning in earnest as you clutch at his hands over your tits. “Please fuck me, my darling, please. Want to cum on your cock.”

His groan sends heat through you as he places your hands on the wall before parting your legs.

“I’m clean, baby. But I don’t have a condom.” His big hand is splayed comfortably around your hip.

“I’m on birth control. Please.” You can feel the puffs of his breath against your damp shoulder as he nudges your clit with his cock before slowly pressing into you. Your pants turn into moans with each thick inch of him pressing into your walls. You’re seeing stars already at the constant assault of his length against your g-spot.

“Please! Please!” You’re babbling as he finally bottoms out in you, “You feel so good, Jake, please! Want to cum for you. Please, Please, Please!”

His hands are soothing against your hips as he caresses the hot skin before drawing his hips back. Jake’s infuriatingly slow, each slow glide and press into you has your toes curling as a jumbled mess of need and want and ache and pleasure washes over you. He doesn’t speed his thrusts until you begin to circle your clit with your own hand. The flutters of your wall around his length make him groan before he tugs you back against his chest.

“Oh, baby.” His voice is reverent as the new angle has your walls clenching even tighter around his length. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You reach for his face, kissing the corner of his mouth sloppily as he picks up the tempo. You’re soon squished between the cold bathroom tile and Jake’s body as he rails into you with impunity. Your breaths are punched out moans and you can feel your second orgasm approach with an unparalleled intensity as Jake continues to piston his hips. You can hear the slapping of skin against skin even over the pounding water as Jake slides his hand between your legs and massages your clit. Your scream as you orgasm is prolonged and a thin, weak thing as the pleasure robs you of every thought.

You don’t come back to yourself for several moments. Jake’s carefully massaging shampoo into your scalp, fingers gentle against the tender parts. You kiss his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands leave your hair to wrap around you again.

“You back with me, baby?” His voice is filled with such fondness and affection that you could cry.

“Yeah, I’m back, Jake.” Your smile is dopey and fond as he draws you into a kiss. “Did you cum?” Your hands are just as gentle as his as you stand on tiptoes to lather his hair just as carefully as he’d lathered yours.

“Yeah, baby. I came when you did.” He’s started to rub soap across your skin, something fancy that smells like oranges. “God, baby. If I hadn’t been so jealous or selfish, we could’ve been doing this a long time ago. I haven’t come like that in years.”

Your heart swells as you grab the soap from him and run your sudsy hands over his strong thighs and ass, putting in just the right amount of pressure on his back to make him moan before soaping his chest and soft length. He’s looking at you like you’re something special as you tip your head back and let the hot water wash all the bubbles away. While Jake rinses off, you stay cuddled in his arms.

The bathroom is steamy and warm as he drapes a towel under your armpits and pulls a hair dryer out. You melt when he turns the dryer on and uses the combination of warm air and his fingers carding through the bedraggled strands to dry your hair. It’s quiet between you as he leads you to his bedroom and hands you a soft t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to wear.

“Are you hungry, darlin’?” His hair is soft and mussed as he stands in the kitchen wearing just a pair of low-slung sweats.

“I’m starved.” You curl into his chest again as he pulls up a menu on his phone.

“What do you feel about Chinese food?”

You kiss him for that suggestion before pulling away to look at the menu. Jake hooks his chin over your shoulder as you laugh and playfully fight over the best menu choice. It’s light and easy as you sit on his sofa, sipping on wine and eating chinese food. You’re sure you could get used to this.

North Island Naval Base - 2 ½ Weeks Later

“It is without further ado, that we present the Top Gun Trophy to Lieutenant Junior Grade Jacob Seresin, Callsign Hangman.”

Admiral Simpson looks proud as he hands the plaque to Jake and you know Jake’s looking right at you as he smiles like he won the world. Your loss doesn’t bother you, not at all.

After that fateful night, things had been different between the two of you. One night of sex, mind-blowing, and Chinese food, greasy and perfect, hadn’t been the harbinger of change between you. Change had started the next morning when he accompanied you to the police station and waited as you’d given your statement to the police with your JAG representative by your side. It had been a relief to see the police throwing the book at your three attackers and to see their sentencing. You’d attended their trial two days ago and celebrated into the night with Jake as they’d each been sent to prison for assault of a military officer.

The biggest change had been during class. Jake was back to being the nice, perfect gentleman he had been at the beginning of your tour at Top Gun. He no longer heckled you or tried to bring you down using misogynistic remarks. He did still banter with you, but it was light and fun. And every night, he made love to you in his apartment while he called you “his beautiful fiery girl” or his “pretty bird”. He held you when your nightmares kept you awake and made you feel like you were perfect when you felt like anything but.

That’s why losing the Top Gun trophy hadn’t hurt so much. You won Jake at the end of it all. And you weren’t sure if he knew that he’d won you too. You're going to show him the next chance you get. Your entire cohort is grouped around him as you walk towards him to congratulate him. He’s been getting hugged all day, so you know it doesn’t look out of place when you wrap your arms around him and congratulate him. But you can guarantee that none of the others whispered in his ear that he had to eat them out to console them from the loss. That privilege is just for you, and it’s a consolation prize you’re very keen to claim.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

#star writes #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #and in the middle of my chaos there was you #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #fluff #smut #top gun imagine #top gun smut #top gun fluff #angst #this handles some pretty serious topics #tw: sa #tw: attempted sa

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ejunkiet · 5 months

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writer bingo >:3

Tagged by the lovely @lovelylonerliterature and @teafairywithabook ! 😚 💖💖

Basically all bingo except for Wattpad (I'm technically a fandom oldie? 😂 really, I'm marginal, as I was on forums, the tail end of LJ and FF dot net) and outlines, as my outlines are written over when I write, and they're more.... sketching out scenes than actually plotting anything. Proper outlines are essential for longfic, and I only write those occasionally. 😂

tagging- you, reading this! But also: @dominimoonbeam @glassbearclock @piratefalls @garglyswoof @chroniclesinlacuna @taelonsamada @slushrottweiler @kirnet @mutantenfisch @ninzied @androleda @agentnatesewell @autisticempathydaemon @lellium @serenpedac

#tag games #this is a little surface level but cute!! 😚#my first proper smut attempts also involved wine lovely.😂#i say proper as I'd written mature content before but it didn't linger and often faded to black #heheh #i also don't really want to be a professional writer someday #but I would like to publish a book #so that counts?#anything else interesting to say?#roleplays on forums were my writing gateway 😂 the good old days...

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becca-alexa · 1 year

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Baby, It's Cold

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re snowed in with no heat, so you suggest sharing body heat to keep from freezing - but how far will things go between you and Steve?

Word Count: 6.3K

Content Warnings: p in v sex, general smut, cursing, consensual touching

Author’s Note: feedback appreciated!! i don't have much experience writing stuff like this, and i figured practice makes perfect 💗

It was a miracle Robin had managed to snag the cabin - who in their right mind would ever rent out an entire villa in the woods to a bunch of twenty-somethings? It was unheard of, or so she claimed, because none of them could get her to shut up about how well she'd haggled for the place, how she'd bartered with the owner over coffee and used her mile-a-minute voice to confuse them into signing off on them staying the weekend.

The place was far, far outside of Hawkins, an urgently-welcome retreat for all of you after what had proved to be the most difficult year of your lives. Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, you and Steve - you'd all made plans to meet up and drive over together; Eddie had given his van a well-needed tune up specifically for this trip, so that it could handle everyone and everything in one go. But, as was quickly - annoyingly - becoming the norm with your group, your plans fell through… sort of.

"What do you mean, you're stuck in Indy?" Steve tried to keep his voice down as he balanced the payphone receiver against his ear, hands shoved into the pockets of his jean jacket as he braced himself against the cold. "Robbie, we've been planning this trip for weeks-"

"I know, I know!" Robin hurriedly replied; you tried not to giggle too loudly as Steve rolled his eyes. "But Nancy had this thing she needed to pick up, and Eddie had offered to drive us, then Jonathan and Argyle wanted to tag along-"

"What, so you didn't think to tell me about your little day trip?" Steve dragged a hand through his styled hair, shifted from one leg to the other, slapping a hand against his thigh in exasperation. Can you believe her?, he mouthed to you, biting back a grin when you shook your head.

"Just go with [Y/N]!" Robin insisted - and in retrospect, you'd realize she'd insisted a bit too intently, but you weren't thinking of that now.

What you were thinking of was how in Heaven's name were going to survive the entire three-hour drive up to the cabin, alone with Steve Harrington.

Your best friend, your bat-wielding protector, the sole object of your desires - Hell, he was the only crush you'd ever had, and even after so many years, your affections for the man still ran as deep as ever.

"Robin says they'll meet us at the cabin tomorrow." Steve asked, holding the phone away from his face as he turned toward you, head falling to the side, hair bouncing over his face. "That okay with you?"

"T-That's fine." You reply with a nod, staring at the lock that had fallen over his forehead, and you prayed he hadn't picked up on how your voice had cracked.

"You owe us, Robbie." Steve replied gruffly, but you knew there was no bite to his words. "Seriously this time."

"Sure, sure! Whatever!" Robin hurriedly replied; from where you were standing, you could barely make out what sounded like Argyle… shouting at someone? "Drive safe!"

"Rob-" The line went dead, loudly buzzing in his ear; Steve groaned as he all but slammed the receiver against the payphone, his brows furrowing as he began to lose himself in his thoughts. You took a step toward him, bridging the gap that'd been left between you; your fingers were soft as they brushed over his skin, trailing over the soft hair covering his forearm, pulling him out of his own head.

"Steve, it'll be fine." Your voice was quiet, and you hoped it'd calm him down - the last thing you needed was Steve driving up a rugged, unfamiliar mountain upset. "We'll try calling again when we get there, okay?"

He nodded, blinking at the warm smile you gave him - your smiles were always warm, always gentle, but every time he'd be graced with it, he'd remind himself not to get too excited.

You smiled at everyone like that, he'd convinced himself, desperate to believe it were true, that the look of pure sunshine on your face wasn't just for him - because how could it be?

It was, but that's another story.

You walked to his car, your pace picking up to a jog as the bitter cold sunk through your clothes. Steve beat you to it, holding the door open for you.

"Ever the gentleman, huh?" You teased, climbing into the seat and pulling the heavy thing shut behind you.

Had you hesitated just for a moment longer, you'd have caught how Steve burned at your words, how he'd licked his dry lips nervously as his mind froze up, hands trembling as they fisted at his sides.

You weren't the only one with a lingering crush.

Taking a steeling breath, he walked over to the driver's side, hands cupped over his mouth as he shut the door, working desperately to stave off the chill biting at his fingertips.

"Ready?" The car roared to life beneath his hands, the sound a welcome comfort ahead of your long journey; you cranked the heating up to the highest setting. Again, you smiled at him, fuzzy and soft; he smiled in return, and he pulled the car out of the gas station parking lot and onto the main road.

You'd been driving for hours.

"You find it yet?" asked Steve, glancing at you for what felt like the millionth time as you scanned the map creased and wrinkled atop your lap, your brows furrowed in concentration as you traced your finger over one of many wiggling lines.

"There should be a road up ahead on the left…" You mumbled in reply, flipping the map upside down, this way and that. Should you have brought a compass? "Maybe the right…? No, wait, definitely the left."

"You sure?" Steve asked hesitantly - he'd driven through more open country roads and empty spatterings of woods than he could remember; in the dark, he couldn't even tell he was driving uphill.

"You don't trust my cartography skills, Harrington?" Your lifted your brow, your tongue sticking out of the corner of your pressed lips. "Take the next left, then it should be at the end of the road."

"I trust you, but this baby's only got so much gas." You laughed at him, clear and pleasant, his smile widening at the sound of it. "Here?"

"Yeah, turn here."

The car jumped as it crossed off the main road and onto the dirt, leading up the side of whatever mountain you were on; Steve's hand flew out to hold you down before he could think to stop himself, and you clung to him as the jolting continued on, both of you only relaxing when the cabin finally came into view.

And, boy, was it a view.

"Robin got us this?" You exclaimed, gaping at the expansive cabin before you, eyes sparkling as Steve turned the interior light on. "This is amazing!"

"It's a cabin." Steve shrugged, and your head snapped to look at him - he sounded… unimpressed? "What? I think it's nice." You rolled your eyes at him and climbed out of the car; he followed closely behind, insisting he carry your bag, ignoring your protests against it altogether.

As though the outside of the cabin wasn't impressive enough, the inside was lavish enough that even Steve was taken by surprise. Two floors, six bedrooms, wall-to-wall log paneling, a massive fireplace across the main living room stocked to overflow with cut firewood.

"'S it still just nice?"

"It's really nice."

The both of you explored the space, running from room to room, gawking at the luxurious kitchen and the equally-massive wraparound deck leading out from it. And, having taken in your fill, the two of you begin making dinner - rather, Steve was making dinner and you were relegated to chopping and slicing duty, the conversation between you lighthearted and teasing.

Midway through your simple stir-fry dinner, seated in the kitchen, you were the first to notice the change in the weather.

"Steve," You nudged him, and he gave you a questioning look, stopping mid-chew to look at whatever you were pointing at. "It's snowing!"

"Huh." His brows furrow, his gaze dropping to nothing. "The weather report didn't mention snow."

"It shouldn't be too bad, right?" You tried to reassure him - and yourself, too - as you followed his train of thought. "They'll make it by tomorrow, for sure."

"Yeah, for sure…" Steve didn't sound too convinced, but you didn't push the conversation further. Seeing as how he'd made dinner, you volunteered to do the dishes. And, ever the good friend, he'd kept you company, even drying off and putting away whatever you'd finished washing.

"Steve, I said I was doing the dishes…" You huffed, pulling the damp towel slung over his shoulder and giving his chest a light-hearted swat.

"What, I'm not allowed to help?" He danced around you, snatching back the towel, and you swiveled around to reach him; he lifted the towel far above your head, well out of your reach, laughing as you tried to jump for it.

"Steve Harrington, give that back!"

"Just let me-"

Stricken mid-sentence, the lights flickered.

You froze - you both did, Steve's arm an instant vice as he held you against his chest. Neither of you spoke, neither breathed as you listened for the tell-tale sounds of danger, of an unholy nightmare resurrected. You buried your face into the solid safety of his chest, clinging to his shirt as his eyes scanned the room. Several painful, heavy minutes passed before you slowly began to feel him relax, his hold on you loosening ever so slightly.

"Let me go check the power…" he mumbled, his reluctance palpable as he left you alone, all but running down the hallway to where he'd remembered seeing a breaker box. Throwing it open, he flicked through every switch, yet the cabin remained shrouded in darkness.

Shutting the panel door, and rounding the corner back into the kitchen, he narrowly missed being hit across the eye by the empty vase you'd commandeered as a weapon.

"Whoa! Watch the face!" He jumped back, falling out of your swinging range. "The power's out. Snow must've knocked down a line or something." He explained, voice assured, and you sagged in relief at his words, hands visibly shaking as you set the vase back atop the counter. Without missing a beat, Steve stepped toward you, taking your hands in his own, enveloping them, his touch silently pleading you to look at him.

"Hey," His voice was buttery-soft, gentle in a way he only ever used with you. "There's nothing here. It's just us."

You shake your head, swallowing dryly, your head falling to your chest as you steadied the erratic beating of your heart. "Y-Yeah, you're right."

Steve nodded, calling forth every fiber of his being to let you go, to lose the warmth he'd found in your touch. Together, you'd made the most of things - you remembered seeing a box of candles in one of the closets, a pack of matches tucked away between them all, and in no time at all, the living room was bathed in the flickering, golden glow of over a dozen flames. You sat atop the supple leather couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you watched Steve light the logs in the fireplace.

You were cold, your hands tucked against you, the tips of your toes already feeling numb - and from the way Steve rubbed at his arms, he'd felt it, too.

"Should we… uh…" You tried to ask, your own embarrassment shriveling your words before you could get them out, hands shaking as you tugged anxiously at your fingers. "I-I mean, it's cold, and the fireplace-"

You gave him an exasperated look, but Steve - bless his athletic soul - wasn't following.

You groaned, dragging your hands through your hair as you blurted out, "We should sleep here."

"On the floor?"

"Yes, Steven, on the floor." You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his shock. "We can take a couple blankets and make a bed. It'll be warmer here than in the bedrooms."

Steve turned away from you, staring into the cackling fire. To you, he was considering what you'd said, his expression pensive, almost blank - to him, he was failing to quell his boiling panic at the thought of having to sleep with you… beside you? Whatever - either way, you would be much too close to him and he was not prepared. There were only so many rooms - and therefore only so many blankets - in the cabin, so he knew you wouldn't be able to make two separate beds.

He had to sleep with you.

"I-I mean, you're right…"

You gave him a confused look. "...But?"

Steve took a deep breath, turning back toward you, and he swore you could see the way his heart pounded in his throat. "No, nothing." He stood up, brushed off his jeans, tried for his best smile - which came through as more of a lopsided grin, but that's beside the point. "Let's get those blankets, huh?"

Between the two of you, you were proud of the bed you'd made, cozy under the pile of blankets and pillows; splitting for a minute, you both readied for bed, changing into your pajamas, brushing your teeth in the kitchen - Steve sensed your lingering unease at being in there, so he stood closer to you than he normally would, his hand finding the small of your back as the two of you walked back to the living room.

"Which side do you want?" You asked him, suddenly feeling shy at seeing him in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants and an old Hawkins Phys-Ed shirt - and, unbeknownst to you, your clothes were having the same effect on him, your oversized shirt reaching your knees like an old nightgown.

"Doesn't matter." He pulled at the drawstring of his pants, suddenly intent on looking everywhere but at you. "I'll sleep like a rock, anyway."

You snorted a laugh and crawled into your side of the bed. "Yeah, and you'll keep me up all night with your snoring."

"I do not snore!" Steve exclaimed, and you laughed even harder at him, obviously having touched a sore spot. "I don't!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Steve." He gave you a withering look, and you collapsed in a fit of giggles - nervous giggles, but he didn't need to know that. He shook his head at you as he crawled in under the blankets, close to you yet still keeping a respectable distance.

"Candles stay on?" He knew what your answer would be, but he asked anyway, his chest tight as you nodded.

"Unless it bothers you-"

"Doesn't bother me, sweetheart." He froze, his breath catching - he'd overstepped. Called you the wrong thing, gotten too comfortable. He waited for you to shake your head, to roll your eyes at him and turn around.

But, nothing came.

Steve watched, hands itching from the ferocity of his fraying nerves as you nodded, quieter than usual, curling up on your side as you continued to face him. He laid on his side, toward you, hands bunching the blanket up to his face as he tried to relax - not that he'd be getting much sleep around you, but he could pretend, for your sake.

Minutes pass, the soft sputtering of the candles a soft harmony to the loud, almost rhythmic cackling of the fireplace. Even in the muted light, you notice Steve trembling beneath the blankets.

He was cold.

"Steve?" you whispered, moving closer to him, the sudden drop in temperature making your stomach flip. "Steve, are you okay?"

"Hm…?" His eyes are slow to open, his voice much more tired than it had been mere moments ago; he'd curled up tighter - you just barely felt how his knees were tucked up to his chest. "What?"

"You're shivering." You continued to inch closer, your body all but touching his, and for the life of him, he couldn't remember how to move. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was fine before…" he grumbled, shaking his head, his jaw clenched to keep you from hearing his chattering teeth. "'M fine, just go back to sleep."

You gave him a hard-pressed look, gaze narrowed at the top of his lowered head; before you could convince yourself to do otherwise, you began to fumble about beneath the blankets. Steve cracked an eye open to watch, only to catch you flinging your shirt somewhere off to the side.

He swallowed audibly, his mind racing - and crashing - as he felt your arms envelope him, your chest pressed to his with only the thin barrier of his shirt between you.

"[Y/N], w-what are you-"

"Body heat." Your answer came quickly, much to his surprise, your hands leaving smoldering trails as you rubbed them over his back. "You need to stay warm, Steve."

He nodded, two thoughts about you dominating his mind:

You were much more selfless than you gave yourself credit for.

You weren't wearing much of anything under that shirt.

He tried to think of something to do, something to say, but the unfiltered heat radiating off of your skin was too enticing, too overwhelming. He tried getting closer to you, chasing your warmth, but something felt off; something was holding him back.

In a flash, he'd tossed his shirt aside, the aged fabric landing somewhere near yours.

"Steve-"

"Body heat, right?" God, he hoped he didn't sound too breathless. "We can keep each other warm."

You weren't about to fight that logic, were you?

He shuffled closer to you, arms settling loosely around your waist, the frigid feeling of his hands trailing over your bare skin sending a shiver through you. Between you, you'd moved your hands up - almost as a buffer, ridiculous as that seemed. But, now you were in a new predicament - your fingers wove through the matte of hair on his chest; you could feel each curl, each wisp as he breathed, your touch both featherlight and branding. His head fell to your shoulder, and his arms tightened over so slightly around you.

"How are you so hot…?" Steve asked; his head shot up, and you were given an excellent view of the blush spreading up his neck as he quickly amended, "Warm, I mean. Shit, I- You're really warm. N-Not that you're not hot-"

You giggled, the movement brushing your chest against his, pulling out a gasp from somewhere deep within him that he'd just barely managed to catch. "You're not half-bad yourself, Harrington." Feeling you relax, he tried to do the same, leaning further into you, the scent of your citrus shampoo lulling him into a pleasant sort of halfway-sleep.

"Uh… H-Hey, Steve…?" He could hear your voice, distant and somewhat muffled, and he grinned against the comfort of your shoulder. "Steve, are you awake?"

"Yeah…?" He peeled open his eyes, pulled away enough to look at you, confused for only a moment as he tried to follow the way your gaze flicked to the space between you - and when he did, he stopped breathing, his stomach dropping to his half-thawed toes as he sprang away from you, his scalding face clear in the candlelight, hands pressed tightly between his legs.

"Shit! I- Goddamnit, [Y/N], I didn't… I swear, I wasn't-"

You watched on, stunned silent as Steve worked himself into a whole-hearted frenzy, shaking as he desperately tried to explain away why he'd gotten hard sleeping with you.

"Was that… is it my fault?" You couldn't help yourself - here you were, sharing a bed with the man of your dreams, who'd gotten painfully aroused with you in his arms. Your words were barely above a whisper as you continued, "Are you like that because of me?"

Part of you wished you'd disappear, another thinking of what you had within arm's reach that could be used to tear your own tongue out because who in their right mind asks something like that? You stared at him, lip worried between your teeth, eyes catching the light like a million stars in the night; Steve realized he was at an impasse - you both were.

It was now or never.

"Yeah, I… I am."

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer; you felt as though the floor had collapsed beneath you, turned to quicksand and swallowed you into its grainy depths.

"Steve-"

"I like you, [Y/N]."

You couldn't help the gasp that tumbled past your lips, nor could you quell the sudden flood of tears swelling in your eyes. His words flew around in your head, dominated your thoughts, demanded every ounce of your attention.

I like you.

"[Y/N], don't… don't cry- Shit, I didn't…" He'd moved back to you the instant he'd caught the first tear, his arms wrapping back around you - he'd kept his hips turned away from you, the angle awkward, but you didn't notice. "C'mon, baby, I'm sorry-"

You shook your head, your breathing hiccupped, stuttered as you wiped at your dripping face. To his surprise, you'd laughed, the sound as wet and sodden as it was bubbling.

"Steve, I'm not… I'm not upset." You tried to tell him, reassure him, meeting his concerned gaze through glossy lashes.

"But, you're crying-"

You took his hand in both of yours, held it between your bodies like a tether between souls; he could feel your pulse through your palm, quick and solid and strong.

"[Y/N]-"

"I like you, too, Steve."

He barely believed what he'd heard - you liked him? You'd reciprocated his feelings? The crush he'd been achingly, lovingly nursing since high school was… mutual?

"Y-You… You do?" He hated how insecure he sounds, how hesitant and uncertain he was; you gave him another blinding smile, dropping your hands as you pressed your bare chest to his.

"I do." You thank the Heavens above that your voice hadn't wavered - he heard you clear as day, the fluttering he'd feel whenever he was near you now a full-on avalanche of jittery emotion. "I… uh… I have for a while now."

"Really?"

You nodded, hiding your face into a lump of bunched-up blanket.

"How long have you…?"

"You first." You insisted, your stomach in knots at his shy smile.

"Since freshman year, at least." Steve replied smoothly, his confidence returning in drips and splashes - it was better than nothing, he'd conceded. "Never thought you'd give me a chance, though."

"God, I've liked you since, like, fourth grade…" You'd groaned into the blanket, goosebumps running over your body as you caught his soft exhale.

"Seriously?" He couldn't believe it - you'd been hiding your feelings for him for almost a decade?

How had he not noticed?

You'd pulled your head up from the blanket pile just enough to look at him, and you both collapsed into a fit of nervous, giddy laughter, the little space left between your bodies shrinking away. Steve was the first to settle down, staring into the depths of your eyes with the look of a man drowning in his love; he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear as your legs tangled together, his rough and pleasantly scratchy against yours, and he waited for you to quiet down before asking,

"Is this alright?"

His hands were at your hips, his thumbs running over the thin elastic band of your underwear. So elated were you, you'd almost forgotten about his… situation.

Almost.

Calming yourself, you shifted, slowly pressed your body to his - your hips firm against him - as you nodded, cheeks pink as his rock-hard length throbbed against your stomach.

"[Y/N]?"

"Steve, I…" You couldn't bring yourself to ask for what you'd wanted - but, God, did you want to. Lord knows you did. Your head fell to his chest with a quiet groan of frustration, but he understood all the same.

"[Y/N], look at me."

You lost yourself in the endless depths of his eyes, your only thought to keep breathing as he reached for your hand.

"If you don't want to, tell me to stop."

He watched every flicker of emotion on your face, every expression, every feeling play out in vivid detail; he brought your hand - so small in his own - to the throbbing between his legs, his eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your fingers around him, holding him through the soft material of his sweatpants.

"God, Steve…" You whispered, giving him an experimental squeeze, your body sweltering with heat as he moaned - it was quiet, just barely louder than an exhale, but you'd heard it all the same.

You had done that to him, brought him to this, and you ached for more.

"Take it off." Your tongue poked out to swipe at your lips; he swallowed at the movement, every nerve in his body alight, aflame at the feeling of your hand around him. "Please."

He didn't need to be asked twice.

In a single movement, Steve pulled off his pants, chucking them somewhere across the room; you gasped as you realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath, naked as the day he was born.

You looked at him, he nodded, and your hand was on him again.

God, Steve thought, his head pressed to your shoulder, breathing heavy as you began to stroke him, it's never been this good before. All you'd done was touch him, and he could already feel himself begin to unravel, his stomach coiling with his building release.

You stared down between you in open-mouthed awe, feeling the weight of him in your hand; he actually keened when you'd brought your other hand to cup him, pushing his hips into your grip, chasing more of your touch - of you.

"B-Baby…" He barely recognized his own voice from how weak he sounded, his hand shaking as he wrapped it over yours, stilling your movements. "Baby, please, I… I can't-"

Your hands flew off of him, raised up to your chest, a pang of fear seizing your chest at the thought of having hurt him. Were you moving too fast, your grip too tight? "Steve, I-"

"No! No, sweetheart, it's… It's not you, I swear." He pulled you close, buried his nose in your hair, his voice quiet with embarrassment as he continued, "If you keep doing that, this'll all be over way too fast."

You giggled at him, your smile broad and beaming as he moved away to look at you, going stiff in more ways than one as you brought his hand to your chest; he could feel the thrumming of your pulse beneath the softness, keeping pace with his own.

What, like you hadn't heard about his boobies monologue from Robin?

You felt his fingers twitch against you, desperate to squeeze, but he held himself back, restrained himself.

"I won't break, y'know."

God, you were going to kill him, he swore, shaking his head, a nervous grin stretching across his lips - and it was then that he paused, his hand stilling over you as the shameful realization dawned upon him.

He hadn't even kissed you yet.

Where's your game, Harrington?

He'd gone shy on you again, you noted, feeling how his breathing turned slow and deep. "Steve?" You brought your face closer to his, hands at his jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks as you urged him to look at you. "Steve, do you-"

"Can I kiss you?"

Your silence stretched out for what, to him, felt like hours. Had he pushed you too far, assumed too much? Was kissing too personal for you? His first instinct was to backtrack, to make amends, and he hurriedly mumbled, "I-I mean, it's fine if you don't-"

"Do it, Steve."

Your words were clear, demanding in a way that made him shiver in anticipation. Slowly, carefully, he trailed his hands over the softness of your waist, pulling you flush against him, his length trapped between your thighs.

"You want me to kiss you?" He needed to hear it from you, needed you to say it, to know you wanted this just as much as he did.

"Please."

Of all the times you'd imagined kissing Steve, of daydreaming about what he'd feel like, nothing could compare to the real thing; you melted against him with a sigh, arms settling around his neck as you pulled him impossibly closer, every pore on your body screaming for this moment to go on, for him to kiss you like this forever.

And for Steve, kissing you was a miracle - he'd long since resigned himself to wanting you from afar, to watching you from the sidelines, content with the way things were. He didn't think he'd ever gather enough courage to confess his feelings to you, terrified of losing one of the closest friends he's ever had. But, now?

Now that he's tasted you, he's insatiable.

He was the one to deepen the kiss, to lean into you, press his body against you, throbbing between your thighs and hissing as his sensitive head caught on the fabric of your underwear. You pulled his hands back to your chest, his tongue tracing over your lip as you pulled off the lacy thing and tossed it aside.

Your kiss had started saccharine, gentle, coy, but it had devolved into something carnal, primal, fueled on by years of pining and longing and want.

"[Y/N], can I…? Can- touch you?" Steve panted, his words beginning to fail him, his hair already damp with sweat as it fell over his eyes. You pull one of his hands away from your chest, biting back a moan at the feeling of his calloused palm dragging over your nipple; you guided him between your legs, your breathing labored, eyes clenched shut.

When he touched you, you screamed.

Painstakingly, sobbingly slowly, he worked you open, his pride growing tenfold as he felt how wet you were, how slick his fingers were quickly becoming as they moved over you - and all because of him. He brushed his fingers lightly over your clit, his touch barely a touch at all, yet it drove you nearly to the brink of insanity.

"S-Steve…!" you cried, screamed, no longer caring about the volume of your voice as you ground your hips against his hand, fingers clawing at his back. "Mmm…! Fuck, Steve…!"

"Talk to me, sweetheart. How's it feelin'?" The closeness of his voice, of his lips pressed to your ear did absolutely nothing to veer you away from the edge of ecstasy you were barreling toward. You could feel him circle a finger around your dripping entrance, teasing you, your body writhing atop the blankets.

"S… Steve, please…!" You shook in his arms, your face buried against his chest as you begged him for more - and when he finally pressed his finger into you, you both moaned.

You were so hot, so tight, around his finger, sucking him in, your velvety walls pulsing against him - he could feel his cock weep as he imagined what it'd feel like to be inside of you.

"Hmm…! A-Ah- Shit, Steve, I…!" Your head began to swim, your breathing rough as he worked you, one hand holding you by the hip while the other thrust into you, his thumb pressing down on your throbbing clit all the while.

"Where you at, baby?" he panted, his focus breaking away from the sinful squelching coming from between your parted legs.

"'M close, Steve… Fuck, I- I'm so close…!" You threw your head back, your body arching off the floor as Steve's kept his pace steady, looking very much satisfied with himself as you fell apart in his hands; with a final, trembling moan, you collapsed, panting for air as the sweet thrill of aftershocks shot through you; absentmindedly, you could feel him slide in behind you, holding you against his chest, hands moving idly over your sex-warmed skin.

Still, even in the rose-colored haze of your mind, you knew you wanted more.

"[Y/N]?" Steve watched as you turned around in his arms, pulling him into a sloppy, wet kiss. It didn't take much for him to turn to putty in your hands, and he offered no resistance as you nudged him onto his back, legs straddling his hips. "Fuck, baby, I…" he breathed, eyes wide as his gaze moved over you in reverence - bathed in the candlelight, flushed from the bliss he'd given you, he swore you never looked so beautiful.

You moved your dripping core over his cock hesitantly - unlike Steve, you had no prior experience to draw from. Did it feel good when you pressed down on him? When you sped up? Slowed down? You stared at where your bodies connected, not realizing Steve's eyes had clenched shut, sweat beading down his brow as he tried to keep himself from losing it.

"Sweetheart, please, I…" Steve moaned, his hands leaving you to drag through his hair. "You're killin' me-"

"Yeah?" you panted, pushing more of your weight down onto him, your heart soaring at the litany of curses that fell from his lips - and even a few that weren't in English. "How's it feel, pretty boy?"

At the name, you felt him jump against you, and you swore on your mother's life you'd never seen him flush so red.

It was as though the very room had gone still, the snow outside ceasing to fall, your breath catching as you lifted yourself off of him; holding him in your hand, you lined him up with your entrance, your eyes shut as you tried to calm your nerves, but you paused at the feeling of hands running over your sides, gentle and soft against you.

Steve looked up at you, cheeks bursting with color as he held you steady, an unspoken question clear in his eyes.

Do you want it?

You nodded, your lips breaking into a smile as you kissed him - and all at once, you pushed yourself down, crying out at the feeling of him stretching you, filling you.

He was big, and you were loath to admit that the rumors you'd heard about him all throughout high school were true - he deserved to be called "King Steve".

You fell against him, shaking at the sudden intrusion as his hands soothed over your back, your waist, your thighs, your face, guiding you down onto him, whispering praises into your ear.

"You're doin' so well, baby. You're so good to me, taking me like that… Fuck-!"

You were struggling to breathe, face pressed against the crook of his neck as you waited for the pain to melt away - and Steve waited with you, peppering your face in kisses, his hands smoothing over your hair.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked, his voice softer than silk, his concern washing away the lingering traces of your discomfort. You shook your head, biting your lip as you pulled away from him, wiping at the moisture clinging to the corners of your eyes.

Steve felt his stomach drop. "[Y/N]-"

"I'm okay." you reassured him, your voice all but gone, eyes fluttering shut as you settled back against his hips - he'd buried himself completely into you, the feeling of you enveloping him almost too much. He waited for you, for your sign that it was alright to move - because once he started, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop.

You accustomed yourself to the feeling of him inside of you, thick and hard and throbbing. "S-Steve…" you moaned, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. "You can… You can move-"

And you fell over when he snapped up into you, breaking out into fits of bright, sparkling laughter.

"[Y/N]!" Steve couldn't help but laugh, too, feeling your walls squeezing around him. "Baby, you alright?"

You nodded, still smiling as you threw your arms over your heated face.

"Keep going, Steve…" you sighed, peeking at him from between your fingers - and his heart swelled, leaning over to kiss you stupid as his hips pounded into you, one of his hands moving down to your clit, rubbing you in time with his thrusts.

He wasn't going to last - he knew he wasn't - but he'd be damned if you didn't finish before him.

Your mouth fell open with a wanton moan, hands fisting the blankets at your sides as he gripped your hips roughly enough to bruise, his pace already beginning to falter. He kissed you everywhere he could reach, covering you in his love, his breathing coming out in grunts as he felt himself nearing his end.

"Baby, I- I'm so fucking close-"

"Steve, I- Ahh…! I can't…! Steve, please, I'm…!"

And you reached your peaks together, screaming as you throbbed around him, as he painted you with his release, your bodies sticky as you collapsed onto the blankets, chests heaving for air as you floated back down from the Heavens.

He was the first to speak. "You still with me?" Steve asked, still winded as he rolled onto his side, his hand moving up to roll a lock of your hair between his fingers - you still smelled like citrus, like sunshine and light.

But now you smelled like him, too.

You turned your head to look at him, eyes lidded, your grin blissfully lopsided as you kissed him - gently, sweetly, relishing the feeling of his chapped lips, of the warmth of his breath over your face. "I'm still with you, Steve."

"Yeah?"

"Always."

He pulled you into his arms, his face pressed to your neck; you nudged yourself against him, exhaustion settling over you both like the falling snow.

Before you'd drifted away, you heard his voice, quiet and meek as he whispered, "I love you."

Your hands moved over his chest, and you kissed him one final time before falling into oblivion, your sigh of, "I love you, too." barely slipping past your parted lips, Steve chasing after you.

#becca.fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things smut #if any of you read my encanto fic you would know how disastrous my last attempt at writing smut was so i figured practice makes perfect #and i swear i'm still writing Ride the Lightning i just needed to get this off my chest #feedback appreciated <3 #also just imagine if you will robin and the gang arriving the next afternoon all aware of what likely went down #and when they find you two AWFULLY close they all know their little plan succeeded #the group has been trying to get the two of you together for years and figured this would be the best chance

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