virginburial

[virginburial]

hey baddies 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

i’m so glad everyone loves cupid’s girl, i’ve been debating on whether or not i should write more fics; since it’s my turn to be an adult during a recession and I GET TO CHOSE MY RECESSION INDICATOR (which as time passes, is starting to look more and more like writing fan fiction again just to make the next four years fly by). since i’ve been trying to write a part two for cupid’s girl, and haven’t been able to focus on finishing it, i’ve decided to open my request box until i’m flooded with requests and ideas. either for new one shots or that steve harrington fic i’ve kinda abandoned.

i’ll be taking marvel (currently fixating on thunderbolts), stranger things, and scream requests

be sure you read my rules and boundaries regarding requesting and what i will/wont write. i also will only be posting on here and not on any other websites.

happy reading! ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

[virginburial]

.·:*¨༺    cupid's girl.    ♱   bob reynolds   ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which a failed assassination attempt turns into something more

SHIP: afab!reader x Robert Reynolds WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), unprotected p n v, and f receiving oral, sub!reader, bob can't pick between being a soft or hard dom, spittingggg??? also you hate bob's guts before he rearranges yours! #enemiestoloversfinalboss. random storytelling/porn with a plot. is this a self insert? i wish I knew. also btw you're from florida now :D!! TW FOR: mentions of murder/violence/self inflicted harm, grief, recovery/healing, ptsd related topics, mass violence mention.

WORD COUNT: 7K

SONG: cupid's girl by MARINA "Don't panic when it hits ╴shoot my arrow right into your back!"

A/N: well well well shawties... I've returned. This plot is a lil crazy but it made sense in my head so i wrote it.  I haven't written smut in so long but i have been treated well since then so maybe this is better than my previous work ;) I'm having such a weird regression into my old fandoms so I might publish more work soon! as always, reblogs, comments, likes, and shares are greatly appreciated!

.·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

Quiet steps lingered down the hall as you got a handle on your bow, you knew your mission was only complete if he was taken down, and the last thing you wanted to do was betray Valentina. You were her favorite…which only started to click for you now. Of course you were. There’s no Valentines without cupid shooting arrows and manipulating the background. You were the baseline for The Sentry Project; a test dummy. And similar to the Sentry, you were the only one to survive. Valentina’s secret weapon. You were agile, quick, and seemingly docile and sweet. 

To quote Valentina, directly; “she’s like if Sabrina Carpenter and Natasha Romanoff had passionate sex and scissored out their love child…that’s you, by the way.” 

Of course, you didn’t harbor the same powers as Sentry, in fact, you were almost sure you were created to be the Eve in this situation. Some sidekick with the cute gift of emotionally manipulating the emotions of others, while also being a ruthless killer. You don’t emotionally manipulate others the way most people think off; sure, you bat your pretty lashes and you talk lightly and yes, occasionally, you play devil's advocate. However, you could feel and change the way others feel just by touching them. You know your hand to hand combat, but what's the point if you can just shake someone’s hand, hunt them, seduce them, and control someone so well that they do the job for you? 

No bruises, busted lips, or bloody noses if you will someone to…well, you know. 

It’s what made you so dangerous, and maybe, just as powerful as Valentina’s trophy. It’s also what made him such a good target for you. No need to take him down if you just shake his hand. You could feel the calmness around the room he stayed in, it was almost too calm. It was expected; Valentina just paraded him around and called him and his ragtime team of circle jerkers the “New Avengers”? New Avengers? The sentiment alone made you gag on envy. You hated that they got their flowers while you stayed put, while you obeyed, while you kept sweet. Sentry was just a glorified military weapon. You were the will of Eros and Sigmund Freud’s worst nightmare. 

It should’ve been you. 

And the fact that Valentina still wanted him gone, despite everything, made this operation all the more vital; promising you his spot, promising you everything you initially signed up for when you decided to go through the test trials for the Venus project; a better life. Not a life of suffering. 

It was easy sneaking into where the Thunderbolts were staying at, in fact, you already ran into two members already; that fat oaf Red Guardian and the family dollar (and slightly closeted) Captain America, John Walker. It was easy to get them out of your way, the same way you got men to move out of your way your entire life. Staring up at them with your big eyes and pretending that you were doing the opposite of what you were actually doing; And maybe you did pat a couple shoulders here and made them less…on guard. 

It didn’t matter, you weren’t here for them, you’re here for the poor man’s Homelander. Or whomever he really is. Despite having the same background, being from the same lab, you never once met him, or knew him beyond his project name. You knocked on the door, laying your weapon against the frame of the door as you straightened up. It was your time to shine. Your time to prove everyone wrong; dressed in a white blouse, a black skirt that was way above your knee, and knee high boots with tights underneath. 

The door slightly opened, a small crack of light entering the room as curious, doe eyes peaked out behind the slab of wood that separated you from your most treasured victim. The plan was simple; fill him with the doubt, the rage, the sadness that he had before, and then some. Let him do the rest. It wouldn’t surprise anyone considering his history. You were a character assassin. However, the awkwardness filled the air with its stiffness. You could smell how anxious he got as it sept through every pore. Once he opened the door, you realized he was a lot more timid than previously mentioned. You almost thought you had the wrong guy.

“Um…can I help you?” He stammered. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you smiled. “Yes.” a soft hum leaves you. “Are you Robert Reynolds? I-I got sent here by Mel to do a room check.” you lied, even dropping a slight stutter to convey just how nervous the idea of this made you; even if it didn’t bug you at all. “I already checked in with the others, you were last on my list.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “...Why couldn’t Mel do it?” he asked earnestly. 

He already had you stumped, but you just shrugged. “She got promoted, so I'm the assistant’s assistant now…funny how life works, right?” you stared up into his eyes, you could practically hear his heart beating faster and faster the longer he made eye contact with you. Anxiety mixing in with curiosity, and a hint of attraction; oh, he was in for a rude awakening. He didn’t need to know that just yet. “So, are you gonna let me in?” you ask kindly. 

He hesitated, you could see his jaw clenching–was that irritation? You didn’t care. The minute he stepped aside, you sauntered in, looking around at the bare room as your eyes went towards the nightstand. You slowly walk over as you open the drawers and rummaged through what was inside with only your eyes. “How come I’ve never seen you before?”

You snap over to him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I would have recognized you if you worked for Mel.. or Valentina, for that matter.” he leaned against the wall, looking down at the ground until his eyes met yours. You brushed it off with ease. “Was always more of a background actor.” you hummed as your fingers went to the other drawer. “Besides, I was away while everything was happening, just got back from a trip the minute you strolled in. I can't say I'm terribly inconvenienced by the suddenness of everything.” it was a white lie, you were inconvenienced. 

he just nodded. “I mean…you’re a government worker.” 

Yeah, and so are you; 1/4th of the military spending.  

You clenched your jaw, releasing it as you turned your head, flashing a fake smile as you shut the drawers behind you. “You can say that, yeah.” we’ll agree to disagree for now. You sigh softly and look around. There wasn’t much else to check for your fake assignment, it was time to move onto the real one. You approached him. “You should hit up an Ikea or something, and soon, it’s kind of sad in here.” you joke lightly, feeling him slightly relax.

“Eh, I guess…I could fill it up with some things like a bean bag or a nice rug, maybe a couple of posters like a SlowDive one or maybe even an FSU one-”

General disgust hit your face, and you weren’t too keen on hiding it, and he noticed it right away. He furrowed his eyebrows, laughing nervously. “...what?” 

“An FSU poster?” your voice winced softly.

Then it hits him, he takes a step back, and a smug look on his face replaces the timid one. “Are…are you from Florida too?” he questioned, and you shook your head, not to say no, that you’re not from Florida, but to say; “The Gators are so much better-” “-Ew, no.” he combated. “Let me guess, Orlando?” he joked softly. God, we really are in a sassy man apocalypse. 

You scoffed. “Gross, I’m from Tampa.” 

“Should’ve seen that coming.” he smiled softly. “You’re…a lot nicer than Mel and Valentina, despite your bad taste in college sports-” “-I’ll have you know, that the Gators have won multiple national championships, and I also root for the Bulls.” you cut off, then blush slightly. “Sorry…and thank you, Robert.” you stare up at him, and there it is again; Anxiety mixing in with curiosity, and a hint of attraction; a shot of attraction now, there might as well be a pint of it the next go around. The man looked down at her. 

“I’m…Bob, by the way. No one calls me Robert.”  He sticks his hand out. 

The golden opportunity, you practically water at the mouth to get your hand over his. You didn’t want to make yourself look desperate to touch him; that’s always a little awkward. You wanted to give it such a good shake that you were able to send him on that spiral, without having to use that weapon you brought and stashed in his blindspot. So you grin, your manicured fingers slowly slithering over and interconnecting with his fingers, as power surged through you. It felt like a runners high, better than sex, better than taking back what’s yours. “Y/N”

You could see it actively working, the uncertainty that lingered on his face, yet, something else started to swallow you whole. You felt it run through you as everything turned black, and for a second, Bob was gone. He was the Sentry, after all, maybe you were the delusional one for thinking you could be as powerful as him. However, Valentina didn’t mention this. She didn’t mention this unwavering ability he had that made you feel utterly alone.

You felt yourself shift to a new plane of existence, your body now sitting as slight murmuring grew louder and more coherent. The smell of coffee and old books hit your senses like a gut punch, and fluorescent lights peaked through your thin eyelids and lashes. Your clothes were the same, yet everything was different. When your eyes opened, you noticed yourself sitting in a group with people you wouldn't believe you were seeing. Because they were your classmates. Because it’s been years. Because..they’re all dead. The monotone voice was your teacher. She was dead. The clock struck 2:15, and stayed that way after that day. You were strapped to your seat, an adult, seeing your teenage pupils panic to news over the intercom. 

Stuck to your seat, you watched them scramble to barricade doors. Stuck to your seat, you watch them arm themselves with textbooks and chairs. Stuck to your seat, you watched as everything failed, and each life got ripped away from you, the way you couldn’t have seen back then when you played dead. This was what you were escaping. This is the promise Valentina failed at keeping; having to see it play out over and over again; until you realized you could move. You could always move. 

You try to run to the door, swinging it open and seeing yourself and Valentina going over your own project. Before you could run to your salvation, you see Bob on the other side of the classroom, staring at you in horror. 

You snap back to reality, stumbling back as tears reach the rims of your eyes. You were on the verge of hyperventilating as your legs shook, holding onto the edge of the bed frame. Your knees cowering as you look down at the floor. Bob puts his hands up, almost as shocked as you are. As your mind racks with the idea of how your powers failed you here, Bob stares at you. 

“I know what you are…” he says sternly, his jaw tensing up as he keeps his gaze. “Project Venus?” he asked. 

You try to calm down, your breaths slowing down slowly as your eyes finally meet him. You neither confirm or deny. “...Project Sentry.” you grit. You see him slowly put his hands down. “Valentina told me that everyone from Project Venus died…” you watch as he connects the dots as to why you were kept in the dark for so long. Before he had time to process the possible failed assaination by proxy attempt, you ran to hit, backhanding him, distracting him, before kneeing him in the stomach.

He groaned, annoyed, and before you could land another punch, he grabbed your wrist; holding it tightly as you tried to snatch it away. “I’m not gonna fight you-” “-bullshit, if you know me, and what I can do, then you know why I’m here-” “-it doesn’t work, and that’s why you were scrapped, now stop before you sprain something-rob” you didn’t listen, you kicked him and pushed him out of the way, running to the door and grabbing the bow, and aiming it at him. 

“God, what the fuck, Stop!” He holds his hands up. 

“What did you do to me?” you barked. “How did you-” your voice shook as Bob shook his head. “Look, it’s clear that Valentina fucked us both. Okay? You-You have every reason to be upset! She didn’t care about you then and doesn't now either. She probably sent you here to be killed just-just-put the fucking bow down, please!” he pleaded. “Please don’t make me hurt you more than I already have-” 

“Oh shut up!” you raised your voice over his. “I was supposed to be you! I signed over my entire life to be as great as you and you stole that from me, you stole my life…” your tears ran down your cheeks. “You stole my life, and I'm gonna get it back!” 

“I didn’t steal your life.” he snapped. “Valentina did. That man who did that to your friends back in high school did.” he huffed out as he dropped his hands. “God, Y/N, what was the plan here? You ‘infect’ me with depression until I kill myself? Do you know anything about me outside of me being the Sentry?” he stared in bewilderment. “Valentina used just about everyone in this building, you’re not alone.” 

Your hands shake as you hold the bow, and you start to realize that you never shot the bow before, and that you’ve always cruised simply by using your powers. Bob saunters over, his hands reaching towards her bow and lowering it. “There’s…nothing you can do that I haven't already done to myself.” he admits. “Please stop, before you hurt yourself.” 

You’re enraged, and you want to do everything you can to regain control, but there’s no use. You throw your weapon on the ground, drying up your own tears as you sniffle softly. “Did you learn all that after singing kumbaya with Red Room Barbie and her fucking friends?!” you spat. Bob just nods. “I don’t know, have you ever considered that maybe you could use your powers to help people? Instead of hurting them?” he barked back. “You know how much time you could save if you healed people instead of, I don’t know, inducing suicide–Can you stop fighting with me for a second.” 

You hate that he’s right. “If i started with you, we’d be here all night. You have enough personalities to keep me completely occupied.” 

“Now that’s a low blow.” 

You both just stare at each other, staying silent for a second as you sigh. “Why didn’t my powers work on you?” you were dying to know, even if it meant knowing that you were a failure, and you were meant to be scrapped. 

Bob shrugged. “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you.” he sincerely said. “Maybe instead of filling a…whatever I am with depressive thoughts, have you considered filling me up with happy thoughts? Let me live like that for a bit and then come back to take it from me? Maybe I'll do what you want then.” he muttered that last part under his breath. 

“Are you seriously giving me tips on how to kill you more efficiently?” 

“I don’t know anymore, Y/N. This is awkward–I’m feeling awkward, in case you can’t tell.” he stared into your eyes. “You know why your trial was called Project Venus, Y/N? It’s because Valentina wanted to make a-a seductress who was an assassin. A whole…Killing Eve situation.” he critiqued. “You put the super serum in Steve Rodgers, you get Captain America. You put the super serum in me, you-you get a clusterfuck of problems. But if you give it to a people pleaser? you get an emotional manipulator…” 

You had enough. “You know what? Fuck you, Sentry.” you pick up your bow, not drawing anything, but holding it, just ready to leave this all in the past. “If there’s nothing I can do that you ‘haven’t already done to yourself’ then my work here is done. You’re the ticking time bomb. Not me.” you spat, only to feel what you felt earlier again; the anxiousness, now masked with annoyance and anger, the curiosity, the attraction skipped the pint size, and the pitcher, and the gallon, it jumped two gallons three. Four. Five. You didn’t care, though. He kept pissing you off. 

“You aren’t gonna try?” he asked.

You groaned and turned around. “Jesus christ, Bob. What would make you happy, huh?” you bellowed. “A puppy? A girl? FSU actually winning something?” 

Bob sighed. “All I know is that we came from the same lab, and we’re both the only survivors. It’s not a fluke. If you truly want to know why your powers didn’t work on me, then I'm telling you that you’re using them wrong.” he looked down at your hand. “Put it on my chest, make me think of something good. Valentina sent you here to die…prove her wrong.” he earnestly suggested. “I was able to prove her wrong, so were the Thunderbolts.” 

You hated that this might be the reason why it didn’t work on him. Maybe he was already filled with such darkness, that filling him with more, oversaturating the inevitable, it was never going to work. The public knew about Project Sentry, but not Project Venus. It made sense as to why you’d never be in the picture. It was a losing game. It was always a losing game. Reluctantly, yet, willingly, you dropped your bow and placed your hand on his chest. Oh… there had to be a rock underneath his sweatshirt…was it always this tight? Didn’t matter, you tried to focus on something that would make anyone feel good. Chocolate, a good cry, ten hours of sleep. Something. 

Bob looks at your hand, then down at your face, studying every feature. Your hand glows a soft pink, your eyes moving underneath your eyelids as you try to change his demeanor. You just sigh and pull away. “This is stupid-” “-maybe.” he muttered. Looking up at him, you realized how close you two were to each other. “All I can feel is how much I annoy you and stress you out.” his heart beats faster, the blood rushes to his face, and you felt all of that too, you just didn’t want to entertain that possibility. “Can also feel how bad you want me.” 

Bob’s cheeks turned a dark shade of pink, he furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, Cupid’s Girl. at least you didn’t force me to feel that.” he looked down. 

Your breath hitches slightly, but you shake your head at the idea of it. “I’m not dealing with this-” 

“I’m just trying to help you see that you don’t have to follow her orders anymore.” He gulped softly, staring into your eyes. “None of us do. Actually, the last thing I want is to see another person like me be under her thumb-” 

“-I’m nothing like you.”

“Bullshit.” he said softly. “Traumatized Floridian escapes pain by signing up for a trial, instead of going to therapy, they become the sole survivor of said trial and, under Valentina De Fontaine’s thumb, they become her own personal weapon…Sounds familiar?” you couldn’t escape from the similarities after he put it into words. You just sigh, opening up your mouth to say something, but Bob cuts you off. “I mean, we own her. Don’t you want that? It doesn’t drain you to do her bidding every now and again?” 

Damn it. You just look down, but feel his hand slowly raise to your cheek. He was right. Part of you hated how something as beautiful as being an empath, emotionally attuned, as turned into some cheap party trick to make top scientists and government officials leave the world behind without a single thought. There was a time you wanted to help others. You figured after you learned what you could do, you could help yourself. It doesn’t work on you, but you wished it did. You felt Bob’s thumb run across your cheek, feeling his anxiety tremble once the both of you locked eyes. “...you’ll never have to force anyone to do anything awful ever again, you won’t even have to force them to love you.” 

“What makes you so sure?” 

Bob just gazed into your eyes, trailing along your soft features as his eyes fluttered down to your lips. Oh, because I didn’t have to force you to want to help me. I didn’t have to force you to see me as more than just a potential enemy. His eyes flicker back up to yours. He wants to say more, maybe even show you exactly what he means. He’s too anxious, too awkward, too nice, while also flooding with some sick desire to have his way with you. The air between the two of you gets thick. The same way it did when he first opened the door, except now the playing field has flipped itself on its head. You stare down at your hands, and so does he, before his eyes find yours again. It’s almost like he’s signaling you on what to do. 

Your hand slowly reached his chest, but before you could make him feel anything, he mustered up the courage and grabbed your chin, slowly bringing it over to him as he kissed you softly. Maybe he just wanted you to touch him, not to make him feel anything he doesn’t already feel, but to reassure him that he wanted to feel you and only you. You feel him relax into you, all the anxiety and curiosity quieting down as you gently kiss back, bumping noses and heavy breaths as the kiss deepens. One hand shakily goes to your waist as he uses the other to slowly shut the door behind him. 

You weren’t expecting this, and part of you wasn’t sure if this is something that should happen, but once you both pulled away, your lips chased each other again; like magnets trying to find their polar opposite. You felt his grip on your waist slowly tighten, almost scared he’d break you if he grabbed too roughly too soon. Your arms find themselves around his neck as you feel your body get warm with need, way too soon to be feeling like that until your tongues accidentally brush past each other; then it was game on for the both of you. 

He feverishly kissed you as his grip on you strengthened, a small huff leaving him as you felt yourself gravitate to him. Feeling his knee slowly slip between your thighs, it was all too convenient. His hand grappling to the back of your neck as he pulled you in more; like he was some needy vampire and you were a blood bag with his name written all over it. His hand on your waist slid over to your lower back as he pulled you more into him, as if you could fade into him, as if he wanted you all to himself. And who were you to deny him of that? Especially if you just started to feel yourself dampen, and wanting nothing more than to get rid of the chaste feeling of not knowing what to do, and wanting something more so bad. 

Alchemizing the hate into passion was something you never thought you could do for yourself. Your hate for Sentry turned into wanting nothing more than to show him just how deeply you felt about him, how deeply you felt for him. The kissing picked up more and more, until teeth started clashing and the both of you started running out of breath. You pull away, breathing heavily and almost mumbling against his lips. “Bob-” oh god, you can’t believe you were getting hot and heavy over someone who willingly goes by the name ‘Bob’. 

He whines softly after he stops chasing your lips for more kisses, you can feel the heat radiating off of him like a space heater. His fingers run through your hair, as he huffs gently. “Sweetheart…” he hoarsely said, his voice dripping in desperation as his thumb slowly ran across your bottom lip. He couldn’t believe that you’d let him get this far with you. “You stress me out.” he chuckles softly. And it turns you on. you think to yourself as he leaves soft kisses on the corners of your mouth. “Picking a fight with me just to…” his mind lingers on the idea of having you in his arms the way he has you now. He loves hearing your heartbeat speed up with such a slight or sudden move, and you realize you’re not the only one who can hear hearts too. 

He softly kisses you for a split second, before leaning his forehead against yours. “Please?” he asked tenderly against your lips. You nearly squeeze your thighs around his knee at the idea of him touching you without it whisking you away to some twilight zone. This could be a sweet dream instead of some awful nightmare, one you deprived yourself of since the trial. “Please I wa-want…” he chokes up, before you nod your head and reciprocate the kiss from earlier; short and sweet. You felt him smirk against your lips as he gently pushed you back up against the bed. 

The bed is plush, and soft; it’s a stark contrast compared to the surprising pair of abs underneath Bob’s shirt. He eagerly attaches his lips to your neck, taking a deep breath and smelling the sultry perfume and the vanilla shampoo that you lather your hair in each night. Your skin is the softest thing he’s ever touched, and he misses it more and more each time he pulls away from you. “So..fucking pretty.” he mumbles to himself as his lips trail down to your collarbone, your blouse getting in the way of everything he wants. 

Your breathing speeds up softly as his hands fidget with the buttons of your blouse, you can feel him have some semblance of self control, and how close he was with throwing it out the window just to have you. God, you can feel the self constraint. He was strong enough to rip your clothes off with one tug, but the last thing he wanted was for this to be shorter than he wanted it to be, even if he wanted nothing more than to dive into you. The more buttons he unclasps, and the more skin he sees underneath, the harder you feel him get. It was right up against your thigh, and all you wanted was to feel it break you in. 

He breathes out a soft ‘fuck’ as his eyes wander onto yours, almost pleading for permission to strip you from the rest; please let me undress you, let me tear this off of you, let me have you. You could feel yourself getting more and more wet with each passing second. The way his hands slowly went over to your inner thigh and softly stroke his thumb closer and closer to your core was just the tip of the iceberg. He slowly leans forward, leaving another kiss on your plump and chapped lips. He stares down at you. “I need to taste you…please?” his voice becomes rash, strained, restricting himself so he doesn't go crazy needing you. 

“You wanna taste me?” your voice is tainted with the desire to assume control, because he sounded so pathetic for you. He nods like a puppy, nearly salivating from the mouth like one too. “You wanna taste how fucking sweet I am for you?” you reiterate, feeling his thumb slowly slide between your clothed crotch, feeling how damp your tights were, knowing your panties had been lined with how sweet and wet you are. 

He blushes at your words. “That…mouth of yours.” he raspily voiced, and before you knew it, the self restraint he could have prided himself on melted away. He pulls your hips down, taking your black miniskirt with you and unzipping your boots in the process as well. You can’t help but let out a soft laugh. “Someone’s eager-” you hum before a gasp leaves you, because before you knew it, he had ripped your stockings; tears lining down your leg as he leaned down. God your panties were cute, and you weren't even planning on this happening. Lucky you. 

He leaned down and gently kissed your clothed clit, a shiver went down your spine as tender whines left your parted lips, and the more noise you made, the more Bob kissed and rubbed and sucked on your panties. The friction makes you more and more desperate. You then felt Bob slowly slide that strip of soaked fabric to the side, spitting on your clit before ravenously lapping his tongue over your sensitive, throbbing nub. 

A moan rips from your throat as you toss your head back, feeling your back start to sweat with anticipation as he buries himself more into your cunt. His arms wrapping around your thighs as he forces you down on his tongue. If there was a heaven, this was it; getting endlessly eaten out by someone you tried fist fighting with earlier. You feel your stomach churn with excitement as he drinks out of you, instantly getting drunk off of you, and muttering helplessly against your clit; “god so sweet–so fuckin’ sweet–sound so pretty” intercutting with a few moans and swear words. You relished in how weak he was for you. “Fuck, Bob!” 

Just the single mention of his name made him speed up, sucking on you as his tongue gently continued to savor every last drop of you. You’d squeeze your thighs around his head, and he forced them back open. If you wanted, he could stay like that for hours; tongue deep into you while prying your shaky legs open. He wanted to stay like that, until your moans became higher in pitch, and more airy in tone. 

His eyes searched for yours, and the way he was looking up at you made it impossible for you to look away or not beg for more. Before you had the chance to, his fingers slowly slid into you, causing your back to arch since there was no sign of him ever slowing down his tongue. Moans spilled out of you as your wetness leaked all over your ripped stockings; dribbling down Bob’s chin and making him even more privy to what you liked, what you wanted, what you needed. 

If he was drunk on your juices, then you were equally as drunk as him on his motions. You became a bumbling mess, and he hasn’t even stuck himself in you just yet. “Ohmygod.” you mumbled as more moans got caught up in your throat. You felt the urge in your stomach, blood rushing more and more to your groin as you whimpered. “Just…breaking…you…in” he muttered against your clit, a low hum escaping him as his fingers rapidly entered you, leaving you, entering again, and feeling it overwhelm you. 

“God-so close!” you whined as he sped up. He huffed out a small laugh, continuing to work on your clit as his fingers curled inside of you, pressing into that soft spot none of your past partners could reach. A small squeal left you as your legs shook with desire. Grabbing a pillow and holding it to your mouth, you came all over his tongue, and you watched as he licked up everything he could get out of you. Your muffled moans were music to his ears, as he pulled himself up, grabbing the pillow from you and engulfing you in another kiss. 

Tasting how sweet you were, how tart it was on his tongue, and how it ran down his neck; you grabbed his face and pulled him away from your lips. He kept on wanting to kiss you, pouting when he couldn’t. You tried to catch your breath before feeling him slide off his sweatpants, exposing his boxers and the giant bulge he was sporting. You could see it throb as he looked into your eyes. “Please Sweetheart…” he begged. “I wanna feel how soft and warm you are for me please.” his voice strained as he looked into your eyes. 

You nod, eagerly pulling off his underwear with him and staring at his cock. Your cheeks, as if they weren’t red already, turned crimson at the idea of him splitting you in half with his member, already dripping in precum. Your hand slowly goes over and wraps around him delicately, seeing a shiver run through him as he grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls you up just to kiss you, then softly letting go and slowly going back down with your lips still attached to each other. A soft moan passes his lips, which are red and plump from the excessive kissing. He teases your entrance. “Sweet thing…” he whispers before placing a soft kiss next to your lips. “Good girl” he hums as he slowly slips himself in you; whimpering the deeper he went

A gasp leaves you as you try to adjust to his length; you weren’t expecting it to make you feel so stuffed already, and it wasn’t even fully in you just yet. “Oh fuck…fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-” it all spills out you as Bob chuckles weakly, trying to keep himself together under the amount of pleasure he was feeling. He almost couldn’t think straight with how tight you were around him. How perfectly your cunt sucked him in; like you were both designed for each other. “So-so fuckin’ pretty when you swear-makin’ pretty noises for me.” he musters out before his hips finally react, finally slamming into you in a repeated fashion that’s just…perfect. 

A loud squeal left you, and his hand flies to your mouth as he keeps you quiet; clasping so hard around your jaw that the pain alone makes you cry out for him. Yet, it was overwhelmed by the feeling of him fucking you the way you were meant to be fucked. Your body jolts with each movement as cries spill out from the crevices of his hands. “My sweet fuckin’ girl…” he nearly growls, loving the way you were getting worked up for him; but also getting worked up over you himself. He moves his hand away from your mouth and kisses you softly; god, he had to be addicted to your lips. 

You took this opportunity to express just how good he was making you feel. You knew others were going to hear you anyway. “God-fuck you fit so well in me i-it-s just perfect for you!” your voice wavered, coated in pleasure, feeling him pick up the pace. “I fucking-love-it when you fuck me like this I deserve to get fucked out-” you cry, looking into his eyes.

He slows down, almost to get back at you for all the trouble you put him through earlier. “Never expected something so nasty to come out of those pretty lips of yours…”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Sentry?” You challenged. 

You could see his eyes bristle with power as he grabs you and flips you over, forcing your head down into a pillow and holding your hips up as he slams into you; not caring about how rough he was being. You scream with pleasure as your arms try to hold you up, but the pressure of taking him in this position forces your face back down on the pillow. You whine and swear and cry out, but it’s muffled underneath all the pillows. His grip on your thighs holds you in place; you could’ve almost collapsed with how bad your legs were shaking. 

“Yeah?” he grunted. “That’s what I'm gonna do.” He murmured hoarsely, trying to keep his control for just a second longer so he could enjoy you, but he’s been close to cuming the minute you put your hands on him. He grabs your hair and pulls your head up; forcing you to take his cock deeper and deeper as he tries to whisper in your ear; “shut you up, sweetheart.” he declared as he let you flop back onto the pillow. He stops thinking about being gentlemanly, and more about how to make you cum for him a second time. He could fuck you for hours until you came if it came down to it. 

Your screams and cries and coherent thoughts turned into a jumbled up pile of words, as you drooled onto the pillow; hair sticking to your face as Bob continued to unapologetically thrust against your cervix. It didn’t matter how nervous he was at the beginning, you had him right where you wanted him; helplessly plunging into you and whimpering with each jab. Feeling him rub against your clit with the speed he was going was sending you into a frenzy, causing your thighs to tremble more and more. “What was that, sweetheart?” he slightly smirked as more and more of your muddled moans sept through the fabric of the pillow. 

“You…yes…fuck…so…good.” you cried out aimlessly. 

Bob’s breath shook as he sped up. “Sweet, dumb, thing.” he groaned with each lunge into your cunt. “Good…handsome…boy…fuck!!” you whimpered out as Bob felt his stomach churn with excitement. He didn’t care to slow down, the last thing he wanted was to ruin the moment just to catch his breath. Why do that, when he can finally release the tension he’s felt since laying eyes on you? He groans at the idea of cuming in you, filling you up and making you his. God, he wanted you to be his so badly. He doubted it, but he wanted you every day of the week. 

Sooner rather than later, he felt his own thighs shake. His hands climbed from your hips to your waist, pulling you deeper and closer as he groaned loudly. “Holy fuck…” you felt his cock seize inside of you, twitching every time you squeeze your walls around his member, and every time you did, he’d suck his breath and try to move. He couldn’t take it anymore, he quickly pulled out and pressed his tip against your raw and sensitive clit. He came on your clit, watching his semen roll down your cunt and veer off onto your inner thighs as your hips finally lower themselves.

Bob flops onto the bed and tries to catch his breath. His eyes still glowing as he huffs out in exhaustion, he looks over at you and smiles weakly. “You look…so cute when you’re tired.” he joked lightly.

You face him, blowing a piece of hair away from your face and blushing at the thought of Bob being one of the only people who’s ever seen you this tired. You kept to yourself up until now, and now knowing that someone has seen you all dazed and fucked out turned from an insecurity to something to be celebrated. You reciprocate the same smile. “Well…it’s not every day I get dicked down by someone I was supposed to…” you cringe at the thought of why you came here earlier. “So..this team you’re a part of…”

“The Thunderbolts?”

You nodded. “They…didn’t judge you? Like, at all?”

Bob stops for a second, then shakes his head. “No…you don’t even have to fight, Y/N, I just…don’t want Valentina to hurt you the way she’s hurt me or the others. No one deserves to feel that alone.” he looks into her eyes. “You have something that can…change the world. You always took care of Valentina’s problems, always took care of her. But..who takes care of you?” he asked with genuine concern. 

He was right. No one did. But maybe here there could be companionship, support, trust, everything you ran away from before Valentina, because you thought it was no help to you; and only got worse with Valentina sending you on pointless missions. Maybe you were done being under her thumb just like how Bob was, and the others were as well. Maybe it was time for you to forge your own path–talk about some serious post-nut clarity, but at least you have it now and not down the line when it eventually gets worse. If you wanted there to finally be someone who cared for you…why not have it be Bob? If he wanted to hurt you, he would have already. 

Your eyes stay on his, as his hand slithered to yours; no ominous black shadows included, or horrible memories that already plagued your mind; just a true alliance, an unadulterated connection (despite how smudged your makeup is and how red Bob was) and all the mess that came with it. “What do you say, Cupid’s girl?” and with a soft breath, you nod, giving him a resounding yes. He nearly leans in to kiss you, but you stop him. He pulls away and raises an eyebrow. “What? We’re team members now so we can’t kiss?” he asked, but you shake your head. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what is it?”

“…Cupid’s girl is not my hero name.”

 .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[virginburial]

Paradiso Chapter One: DECAMERON

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Warning: not a ton of smut, just tension! steve being a smug asshole n all. there's slight mentions of self unalivings that did not actually take place within the reality of this story. there's also a lot of swearing and adult topics being shared. I haven't written y/n fics in a hot second i felt so dumb writing this but i'll never know if it sticks or not unless i try!

word count: 4.5k

song: Clover Paradise by La Femme

masterlist for fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Within the rolling hills of Northridge, hidden behind ivory gates and golf courses, and underneath the dimmed stars that faded with the city lights; You lay on shingles, music blasting from under you and shifting your body with each thump of the bass. The sound of people chattering overwhelmed you, so you went out for a smoke on the roof, which felt like an everyday occurrence. Today was different, everything about this solar return felt different. Or at least, that’s what your boss on Eternal would tell you; each season of Eternal was one solar return, and just like the sun, you always came back. 

Eternal was just the Bachelor. Eternal was just the Real World. Eternal was cheap slapstick trashy television with no real desire to point at something and say “hey, I’ll say something no one else has, ever.” It also has two Emmys, all of them accredited to the showrunner, your boss, and nothing to you. You could produce circles around narcissistic contestants and hedonistic darlings that sleep around, hell, even one of your coworkers got caught for sleeping with one of the contestants. He got fired. 

And then his roommate followed suit. 

And then you.

Because you were bored. Eternal bored you. 

There was nothing Eternal could’ve done to make you stay anyways; no amount of baby daddy’s and cheating reveals made you want to stick around anymore. So at the wrapped party, instead of saying your goodbyes, you go to the roof to smoke. Classic y/n. 

“Hey! Dumbass!” you hear a voice from below, eyes nearly rolling from the sound of Steve’s voice. You were surprised that he was even allowed back into the Eternal mansion; especially with all the contestants still hanging around. You sit up and peer over the lining of the roof, your eyes meeting with Steve’s leather brown eyes, his smile getting softer and softer as he waved to you. 

You scoff. “Back for your sloppy seconds?”

“How did you know?” Steve projected back, smirking. Your eyes fall on Jonathan, his roommate and the PA for Eternal, who also decided to walk off set earlier before the engagement ceremony. The truth was, you knew Steve and Jonathan way before working on Eternal; in fact, you all moved out of Hawkins and to LA together just to work on this show right after graduation. Five years of working on Eternal went down the drain because Steve can’t keep his dick in his pants. “Come down here!” Steve beamed. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it you sleeping with another contestant?” you bark back. 

“God I wish.” Steve hummed, earning a slap from Johnathan. Steve flinched and glanced back at you, hoping that a surprise was enough to get you down. “Cmon, y/n. Please? We heard about what happened.” Steve expressed. That was enough to pique your interest, considering how messy production gossip was. Everyone on the set of Eternal knew that you and Steve were a package deal; one of the best producers in reality tv, if they gave awards out for it, you’d have just as many awards as Madonna. It was easy to toy around with other people’s emotions for the sake of good TV. Steve knew that pretty well, in fact, he was going to win the bet that you and the other producers always engage in every season. That was, until he got fired, and all his contestants went to another producer, who ended up winning. 

You climb down the roof, your hands grappling with the ledge of the shingles and slowly climbing down and jumping just a few feet to the balcony; though, you felt a sharp sting in your ankles. Your face, cascaded with the outside lights, stared annoyingly at Steve and almost ignored Johnathan entirely. You saunter around the empty part of the balcony, seeing the party just yards away from you. “What have they been saying?” 

“Oh nothing.” Steve shrugged. “Just that you quit because Fiona was busting your balls, and since we’re best friends, and I got fired, you left.” pretty straightforward, and true. You had just about enough of the showrunner’s bullshit and Steve was your rock. “But they’re also saying you slept with the light director-” Steve chimed. 

You gagged. “Roddy? Yeah-fucking-right.” you spat. “So what are you doing here? It’s not like you’re coming here to collect your prize for the bet.” You hummed.

The bet was simple; you have a group of contestants, each one of them wanting to end up with this season's darling, whoever’s girl actually wins the darling's heart, wins the bet. Last year, you won, and the year before, Steve won. Steve shook his head. “Fuck the bet, I have something better for us to gamble on.” Then he pats Jonathan's back. Poor jonathan. He was never that into the show and never rose to the ranks you and Steve did. So when Steve got fired, he didn’t mind leaving either. 

Where Steve was a bit brash, and you were…well, you. Jonathan always stayed Johnathan. Quiet, shy, but always on the verge of something; just nobody could guess what. Your eyes darted to Jonathan, who gulped nervously. “y/n…has anyone ever told you that you’re really intimidating?” Jonathan mumbled. 

“Seriously, Harrington?” you glanced back at Steve. 

Steve gets frustrated, reaching into Johnathan’s jacket and pulling out a thick stack of papers; bound together by staples and twine. He tosses it over to you, and having you catch it without it hitting your face. It took a second for you to realize that this was a script. How did Steve get his hands on one of these? He couldn’t have written it, motherfucker can barely spell restaurant. Your fingers grazed over the title page, and flipped through its sturdy pages, your eyes followed each word as your stomach fluttered with opportunity. The simple act of skimming through the script made you forget about the day you were having, but you had to remain calm about it, because the truth was that you had no idea what this was or what it could be about. All you could remember after flipping the pages back to the title page were the names; Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. 

You stared back up at the boys, who were looking at you with eager eyes. Almost hoping you’d catch on to the plot or anything regarding the project they wanted to unload onto you; or include you in. The jury was still out on their motivations. “What’s this?” you questioned. 

“A script.” Steve hummed. 

“No shit, but what is it, really?” 

Steve sighs. “Okay…it's a movie-I know what you’re going to say, we have no experience making films, but have you ever considered that maybe us getting fired could lead to us doing other things out here?” Steve chirped. “Cus if anything’s for certain, I’m not moving back to Hawkins.” he expressed. You listen, of course you did, if your best friend was eager about something then it must be important. You knew he didn’t want to move back to work for his dad’s company, anything but that. 

The idea of making a movie intrigued you, because that’s why you came out here, you shot for television because it was easier, but really? Why come to Los Angeles if it wasn’t for the art of filmmaking? It’s what you wanted, even if you were used to producing trash television. You admired Steve’s ambition, always have, so you crossed your arms and expected more out of him besides some low level explanation of a pipe dream. “Okay, what’s the movie about?”

Steve bit his lip. “It’s these two porn producers that let an actor stay with them-”

You scoffed, leading into a laugh. “Alright, so you wanna film a porno.” 

“No, no. Listen to me. It’s not a porno…not exactly.” you tilt your head to the side. “Imogen and Jesse are married, and they produce pornos together, and their marriage sucks. They’re always fighting about when they should have a kid or something. Jesse is filming something avant garde and meets Mac, who needs a place to stay. Mac moves in. Chaos ensues. Next thing you know; Imogen is fucking Mac and Mac is fucking Jesse and Jesse is fucking Imogen but its all wrapped up into a pretty bow, until it isn't. Someone gets hurt.” Steve nonchalantly explains. “Someone always gets hurt. One person can’t express love the way they want and fall deeper in love with someone else, another realizes they shouldn’t be with someone, someone's way in over their head.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay…okay.” you stop him from continuing. “So Eyes Wide Shut meets Cruel Intentions-” “-no, it’s its own thing!” Steve explains. “It’s the obscure movie that you find close to the adult section at Blockbuster; but is it really there? If it’s next to the horror section?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “It’s a movie with shots that pay off in the end and filmed on a vintage film camera. It’s the movie that, if enough eyes are on it, could get awards-”

“-Great, I’m glad you learned what Oscar bait is.” you laughed softly. “All I’m hearing is porn porn porn sex sex sex. What’s the point of this movie?” you challenged. “Is it just what we do at Eternal?” you questioned. “Because I don’t see the point if it’s just reality tv on the big screen.” a sigh left you. “And between the three of us, I don’t see the point of even being in LA anymore. I mean, rent is through the roof. Fuckin-I had no job lined up after Eternal and with all of this fucking bullshit flying around about me quitting over you is gonna get me blacklisted off some sets. I’m ready to hang it up.” 

“No.” Jonathan finally spoke up. 

Your eyes flew to him, almost appalled he even spoke in the first place. “No?”

“No.” he repeated, stepping forward between you and Steve. “Maybe this movie isn’t the one that wins us some big award. Maybe it’ll be your average run of the mill indie flick with a small cult following. But it's the kind of movie you watch on a date, and the entire time you’re watching it, you hope your date sticks their hands down your pants. It makes your skin hot. It’s the kind of movie where the woman takes the lead. It’s buying lingerie for no one but yourself. It’s the feeling you get when you’re alone at the bar, and some handsome stranger buys you a drink and you look at him and you hope it goes somewhere. It’s hiking up to the Hollywood sign at night with a case of beer and a quilt with a girl you like. It’s carnal, it’s liberating, It’s taboo. It’s…it’s fucking french!” 

“Yeah! Fuck it, it’s French.” Steve chimes in as Jonathan continues. “Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the Malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say we’re free here. It’s undoubtedly, shamelessly, beautifully Los Angeles. Straight out of the Decameron! An erotic thriller between a desperate porn producer and his bored housewife, and how their life gets flipped upside down by some vagrant from Van Nuys who fucks! He fucks them all but who really wears the pants? Who’s in control? Don’t you want to evoke that feeling without putting real people at risk for once?” Jonathan vocalizes. “Don’t you want to be free?”  

You stop at your tracks, your tongue going dry at the idea of it; fair, sexy, nasty. Maybe not everything needs to be so gray, maybe things can be black and white. Your heart beats out of your chest from Jonathan’s vigorous explanation. Steve’s eyes fall to your lips, his eyes scanning your expression for your next move; you weren’t sure you had one. He knew that. Steve tugs at his bottom lip. “What’s your craziest fantasy, y/n?”

Your what?

Your stomach rumbles with anxiety, you hoped that question had a point, and you hoped that whatever that point was, it’d pay off. Yet, the mere idea of Steve Harrington knowing what made you tick made you nervous. Your skin flushed a deep crimson as your mouth slowly opened to speak, but nothing came out. A smirk appeared on Steve’s face. “Cmon, first thing that comes to your mind.” he presses slightly. 

“I…I’m dressed up as whatever someone wants me to be.” you keep it short, and sweet. 

“I knew you like being told what to do.” Steve snickers, he turns to Jonathan. “Add that to the script.”

You roll your eyes and huff, your eyes shifting over to Jonathan. “Who wrote it?”

“Nancy.”

You scoff, then find yourself laughing a little louder than expected; a little longer than expected, and seeing Johnathan’s face fall from your revelation made it all the better. “Nancy? Your girlfriend, Nancy? The one that was a huge prude in high school and followed you here just to end up teaching at some school? That Nancy?” your arms fold themselves in front of you. “What does she know about sex?” well, you haven't had sex in over a year, too worried about your job. Maybe she does know a thing or two more than you. 

Steve shakes his head. “Hey, believe it or not, it’s actually pretty good. Give the priss a chance. Give Jonathan a chance. Hell, give me a chance, y/n-” “-and what exactly do you want me to do if we decide to move forward with it? Huh?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve leans against the stone railing of the balcony. “You and I are gonna produce it, I’ll even give you the executive producer title if it makes you jump on board. Nancy wrote it, and Jonathan wants to direct, film, and edit it.” oh how confident he is that you’ll say yes, even with the big, fancy title of executive producer. “Also, Robin from the sound department is willing to run sound and lights as long as word doesn’t get to Fiona that she’s helping us out with our film during Eternal’s off season. All we need are actors. Some coquette-ish bombshell to play Imogen, and two guys who are down to do anything to play Mac and Jesse. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Steve said with a relaxed tone. “Besides, you can produce circles around people, remember last season of Eternal? Where you had to literally talk someone down from a ledge? Now here I am getting you off the roof.” 

“I just went up there to get away from the party and smoke.” you jabbed. 

“So you go on top of it? Noted.” Steve jeers. “Like I said, it shouldn't be too hard.”

Shouldn’t be too hard? God she hated how confident he could be at times. “Why do you want to make this movie?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “I want an Oscar.” his head turned to the side, looking out to the city behind him, yet the answer did not satisfy you. You knew it was all jokes. Steve Harrington and you were not going to win an Oscar over a script Nancy Wheeler wrote, directed by Jonathan Byers.  “No.” you hummed. “Look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?” we could be making anything else; maybe even a show to compete with Eternal. But no, he wants to make a movie about Nancy’s wet dreams. 

Steve’s eyes met yours. “I…don’t want to pay rent anymore.” he answered honestly. You could tell in his tone that he was telling the truth. He was desperate to not go back to Hawkins, and deep down, you knew why. So, reluctantly, you looked down at the script in your hands, which had to be around a hundred or so pages; more than that rather than less, and sighed. “Let me read it, and I’ll get back to you.”

Steve clapped his hands once and smiled. “See? Read it tonight. Pour yourself some wine and read it, you won’t regret it. y/n.” 

Yeah yeah yeah, sure. 

“What’s it called? The film?” 

And Steve flashes the same fucking smirk he’s been sporting his whole life. It melts you to your core, he’s too charming for his own good. It’s why Jonathan’s a good roommate for him; they balance each other out so well. Steve stares over at Jonathan as he motions him to tell you. 

“Paradiso.”

Later that night, early into the morning, you drove home and parked on the side of the street, hoping some asshole won't side sweep your car this time. Your keys fall into a ceramic bowl as your eyes wander over to your roommate crashing out on the couch, mouth open and snoring loudly. You didn’t even bother to turn the tv off, which was conveniently on some episode of Seinfeld. Life kind of felt that way, like a fucked up sitcom. You hated that you couldn’t lounge on the couch with a glass of wine like Steve suggested. So you slightly stomped over to your room and closed the door behind you. 

You kicked off your shoes, and didn’t bother to take off your jeans but took off your bra, because you had to pick a struggle. You tossed the script over to the bed, but your eyes couldn’t stop staring at it. It had to be something great if it got both Steve and Jonathan excited, especially since Steve renders the Fast and Furious movies as masterpieces, and Jonathan loves anything directed by David Lynch. Two sides of the same unbearable coin, you were always a fan of Coppola; Sofia, not Francis Ford. 

You flicked on the light by your desk and grabbed the script, flipping to a random page as your eyes scanned the words. Where did Nancy learn how to write a screenplay? It’s not like her to know more about a script or screenwriting than you do. But maybe that’s where you were mistaken, because once your eyes hit the dialogue, you knew you had a hit. 

You knew you had a hit. 

And everything Steve was saying was starting to make sense. Not total sense, but just enough for you to be grabbing your blackberry and giving him a quick call. It had to be one am, but you knew Steve was still awake, it’s not like him to be asleep so early. Your fingers hit the number pads and your thumb hovered over the call button, and after a few short rings, Steve’s cherry laced voice could be heard on the other line; clearly in his car.

“Hey.” 

“Hey, what the fuck.”

“Hey what the fuck what?” he chuckled. 

You flipped a few pages, knowing that Steve could hear you on the other line as you bit your lip and started reading. “Imogen: I hate that you can do this to me so easily, it’s almost like you got a kill switch for me.” 

“Go on?”

“Mac: you make it too easy, Gene. all I do is flatter you. You don’t love me anymore than you love yourself. So instead of hating me, why don’t you show me how much you love yourself.” then you shut the script. “And then, she masterbates? And drags his hand over and he does nothing until she begs?!” 

“Genius, right?”

“Corny! It’s corny!” 

“So corny it’s genius.”

“Look I’m not saying it’s bad, this could very much turn into something. But I’ll help Nancy write better dialogue or something ‘cus this-?”

“-This what? This isn’t sexy enough for you?”

“Wouldn’t it be hotter if he forced her?”

“Consensually? Yeah, but actually, that wouldn’t make it hotter at all; because then the dialogue of her loving herself wouldn’t make sense. It’s a whole arc for her. It’s her having control over when and how she cums and instead of taking that control, she eagerly gives it to him. That’s the thing. That’s the entire thing.”

“Yeah but does that make anyone’s panties wet?”

“Maybe not all at once…why?” 

“Because mine aren’t. Look, I flipped to a random page and-”

“-and that’s where you messed up-”

“-would you stop interrupting me?” you snapped. 

“All I’m saying is, Paradiso is not a movie where you cum over and over and over again. It’s quality over quantity. What’s more enjoyable? One giant orgasm or 5 tiny ones?”

“Would it be selfish of me to say five tiny ones?”

“Well now you’re just being bratty.”

“Steve, I think we should do this movie. But not because I believe in it, but because I need money.”

“You and everyone else y/n.” Steve scoffed. “You don’t have to believe in it. But please just help me and Jonathan out? Especially with what happened with-”

“-Mhm?”

“...nothing.”

“What happened with who?”

“Me and one of the contestants.”

“Mhm…see, I already know you’re not ashamed of that because this isn’t even your first time fucking someone from Eternal. So spill.”

“...Nancy and Jonathan got into a huge fight a couple of weeks ago, Jonathan said he’d do anything to make it up to her, she gave him this script, and yeah.”

“You don't even believe in this either, Steve!” 

“Fake it till you make it.”

“We could make anything else, literally anything else! I could do Fiona’s job with my eyes closed! We could be showrunners, pitch a few ideas to the network and get our own slice of the Eternal pie. Instead we’re doing softcore porn-”

“Well, in case you forgot, sex sells! It’s why Eternal is such a gold mine!” Steve barks. “You think people only tune in for the faux pa drama you and I create amongst the contestants and the darlings? No! They watch because some hunky rich bastard is gonna be in a speedo for an episode for two while 20 ladies in bikinis all flaunt to him like a pack of vultures. That’s why it does well! And we know how to curate a social orgy because of Eternal, I kind of see this as a downgrade if anything.”

“...you’re really desperate to not go back home.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t mean something.”

“...okay, okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll settle for executive producer.”

“You’ll...settle?” 

“Take it or leave it, Steve.” 

“Okay! Okay, this is good.” you could hear him smiling through the phone, almost radiating back to you. “Thanks y/n. I just knew we make a good team because of Eternal. There’s so much we can do with this now that we have more creative freedom, y’know?” 

You knew. “Yeah…yeah. We need to hold auditions. Because the last thing I want is to see Nancy and Jonathan try their hands at being Imogen and Jesse.” you gag slightly.

“Please, Jonathan is too camera shy. Remember when he was almost caught on camera last season of Eternal? The season with-”

“-That guy who owned his own vineyard? And kept trying to sell wine on the show? Yeah, Jonathan jumped in the pool to avoid getting in the frame. Even though he totally could, we weren't even filming.” you laugh to yourself. Then you sigh. “...I'm gonna miss doing the show.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment, then responds. “At least you left knowing that ratings are gonna plummet next season ‘cus you won’t be around. It’ll all be Fiona's fault.”

“Seriously? Fuck her, I caught her with a gentleman caller last season and it was Vineyard guy! She was fucking last season’s darling! And she wants to fire you for being with a girl who got voted off anyways?” 

“I’m over it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll get in contact with robin about casting, maybe some disgruntled contestant wants to join us. She won’t be legally obligated to stay loyal to Eternal if she gets voted off of anything.”

“Robin or a contestant?”

“Does it matter? Robin hates working there too. Though, I totally mean a contestant.”

“Mhm…okay. Just don’t cast the girl you were hooking up with. It’s a conflict of interest. We’ll find our cast. But maybe not tonight.”

“Fair…hey! Before you hang up, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“The question I asked you, about your biggest fantasy…” Steve drifts off slightly. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yes and no. would never give that precious info away to Jonathan Byers.”

“Cmon, now you have to tell me.”

“Mhm…why would I do that?”

“For the cause.”

“What cause? The so-called erotic thriller we’re filming?”

“No, the reality tv show.” Steve sarcastically hummed. “Yes, the movie.”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

Steve hesitates. “I…” 

“Exactly, that’s what I thought-”

“-No no! I’ll tell you.” he sighs. “I…I’ve always wanted to wrap a belt around a girl's thighs, like really tight, kinda just hog-tie her, you know? Then spank her until she’s begging me to fuck her, but I’m a little conniving bastard so I don’t right away. Just rub and finger her until she’s a drooling, mumbling mess. Then fuck her until she goes limp from cumming so much.”

Oh fuck. Your mouth gets dry. You weren’t expecting him to actually say anything, in fact, you were expecting him to joke around or even lie like you did; a white lie is still a lie. Instead, he decided to be transparent, which sent you over the edge both with the tension and how awkward it is to know about Steve Harrington’s fantasy. And how silly yours was in contrast. 

“Earth to y/n.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s one hell of a thought process. You should add that to the script instead of whatever mine is-”

“-you’re embarrassed by yours?”

“Well I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve hums. 

“Fine, it’s…it’s dressing up as an angel and someone dressing up as a priest.”

The other line goes quiet. 

You continue on anyway. “And he worships me but also…spanks me with a bible-”

“HOLY SHIT.” Steve starts cackling, between heavy breaths and laughter, you try to explain yourself, but you too found it silly. “Hey! Some of us think priests can be hot-” “-you’re lying! You have to be lying-i know just about half of Hawkins will hate you if they find out you have a priest kink!” Steve giggles. 

“You’re one to talk, Dexter! Wanting to tie girls up ‘n shit-”

“-someone has a boatload of religious trauma.” he finally calms down, however, he continues to laugh slightly. “Is there something less disrespectful that you like?”

“...I can do a James Bond/James Bond Girl thing.”

“Okay, at least we’re getting somewhere.”

“Yeah, at least. I’m gonna head to bed. Wake me up when Robin’s figured out casting?”

“Sure, have a nice night, Angel-”

“-Oh shut the fuck-”

Call Ended!

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"Why do you want to make this movie?" "I want an Oscar." "No, look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?" "I...don't want to pay rent anymore."

PARADISO ���˚࿔ a steve harrington fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

In Los Angeles, 2006; two ex television producers struggle after losing their jobs from the hit dating reality tv show ETERNAL. Eager to gain fame and cash, they decide to produce a erotic thriller. As tensions rise from production and cast drama; the producers find themselves living out their own movie.

"Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say, We are free here."

warning: smut (p n v and more, minors stay out!) y/n fic with themes of substance abuse, strong language, toxic relationships/friendships, prop weapons (and more will be added later as the story progresses!) this is primarily a Steve Harrington fic, however, y/n will have romances with both Eddie Munson and Nancy Wheeler, because this fic is #messyboots! there will be steddie too

Based off of: UnREAL (2015), Saltburn (2023), and Secretary (2002)

Paradiso Soundtrack ꩜ .ᐟ with hits from artists like THE WEEKND, MAGDALENA BAY, BLOOD ORANGE, KALI UCHIS, AND MORE!

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Chapter one: Decameron

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proud to have edited this

ALL I WANTED | PART ONE.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader.

Song: All I wanted by Paramore.

Word count : 8.2k ( I got carried away )

Summary : ( Based off of Season One Episode 2 & 3!) You've been in love and best friends with Tommy ever since you were kids, and when he came back from the war in France he has been cold and distant from you. Wanting to be close with him again you put yourself at risk to try and help him with business with Billy Kimber.

Basically, you're like Grace in this story but with a few twists! I also changed up my writing style so there’s going to be no “y/n” in this!

+ WARNINGS: a lot of curses and the g**sy slur because you know Billy Kimber so please have caution when you read! Not to mention there is a lot of dialogue ( sorry ) and part 2 will be the juicy part ;)

ALL OF CONTENT BELONGS TO STEVEN KNIGHT / NETFLIX PEAKY BLINDERS.

~ ~

Memories can be so precious.

It’s what makes them so beautiful– images that come and go through your mind, and eventually fade away into a heartwarming blur that stems from your heart. It’s what makes life worth living, cherishing the moment that you are present in before time flies. A story to be told from your heart that burns into your soul– resurfacing the emotions that you thought you buried so long ago. 

We are all books, with spines and hard covers to hide stories within us. Memories are waiting to be told. 

Yet that’s what makes them also so painful. 

Birmingham was a tragic place; nothing but filled with poverty, sex, drugs, crimes; you name it,  they have it. Being an old family friend to the Peaky Blinders gang had its pros and cons that’s for sure. It made things a little easier,  considering how the whole town feared the gang was; but also difficult because you can easily be a target for another gang due to your affiliation.  

 It was so long ago when you met him, yet, the memory was fresh;  as if it happened yesterday. 

*** 

You sat on the side of the river stream, allowing your little feet to submerge in the cool water creating little ripples that multiply and fade. You were only a child, reeling from the loss  of your  father to an unknown illness but at least you still had your mother. 

 You didn’t have any tears left to shed when your father passed away. Your mother cried all of her tears out for you leaving you with an empty abyss that settled in the pit of your heart. It’s not that you didn’t love your father, you did. Just witnessing your mother being so broken from the loss, you knew you had to be strong for her. Parent her; take care of her like how she did with you. 

Needless to say, this imprisonment started your own solitude. Part of you didn’t mind it, as for someone so young, you realized being alone makes you more aware of the world around

you. As a child you have always tried to look for the good in the world, but as far as you knew , everything was just dark and colorless. 

Were there still beautiful things in this world?

 Did they exist outside of Small Heath? 

A loud splash then pulled you out of your daze as the fierce icy water cascaded over your small form, dampening your beige cream dress which caused your little face to burn with annoyance. 

“Hey!” You called out in an exasperated tone, quickly rising up on your feet from the water to the concrete as your heated stare tried to find the source of  who, or what caused the splash. 

Little strings of laughter reverberated through  the air as your eyes landed upon two little heads that surfaced from the water. 

They were boys..great. You thought. 

“Ooooo, look! It's a girl!” One spoke obnoxiously. 

“No shit, you bloody genius.” The other snickered. 

You only narrowed your eyes to them, “Hellooo?” You called out to them mockingly, gaining their attention. “You got me all soaked!” 

“What are ya goin’ to do ‘bout it? Cry to your mum?” 

That comment made your expression scrunch up into a scowl, for a little girl , you shouldn’t have felt so much anger in that small body. You were more than ready to pick up your boot and chuck it at that meathead who mocked you. 

“Alright, that’s enough Freddy.”  The other boy said in a bit of an exhorting tone, causing Freddy to stick his tongue out at his friend, who stopped him from picking on you.  

You watched as both of them swam towards you  onto the dry concrete, causing you to take a quick cautious step back in case they planned on doing anything stupid. Freddy jumped out first; drenched with water. You could see him visibly shiver from the gentle breeze that brushed over you three. He then stuck his hand out to the other boy, who was still in the water as he pulled him up .“Come on, Tommy. We ‘oughta hurry before the coppers come by.” Freddy groaned you couldn’t help but to gaze at this boy. 

Tommy. 

Tommy’s curled up in a slight smile with Freddy’s assistance managed to propel himself upwards from the river. Slowly you felt the flame of your annoyance simmer  back to a small ember. Curiosity gently guided you to Tommy, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him once he looked at you. 

His eyes were so blue.

“Sorry about your dress.” He apologized with a nod, his gaze not breaking away from you. Water dripped from his raven colored tresses along with his clothes that stuck against his fair skin. His apology made you feel at ease which caused a timid smile form on your lips. “It’s okay, it’s only water.” You replied shyly, despite the little foul smell from the polluted water it wasn’t super bad. 

“Tommy! Come on, mate! Quit bloody flirting with the girl!” Freddy rolled his eyes as he nudged his friend, who waved him off in response. “Tommy. Tommy Shelby.” He introduced himself, his little smile mirrored yours. 

Tommy Shelby. 

Once you heard his name your eyes widen. A Shelby? From a gang? You heard vaguely about them but you knew well enough to stay away from those kinds of people. 

Meeting Thomas Shelby changed your perspective. 

After introducing yourself, you couldn’t help but to murmur out a little, “..Nice to meet you.” 

Before little Tommy could reply the sound of a whistle pierced through the air alerting you both that the authorities were nearby. 

Oh, fuck. 

“Tommy, crack on, let’s go!” Freddy exclaimed before taking off, practically flying with the wind by his hurried footsteps. Tommy glanced at his friend running off before he turned back to look at you once more with an amused expression before grabbing your hand with his. 

“Well let’s not just stand here, leg it!” Tommy exclaimed before sprinting away after his friend, causing you to follow behind him with a squeak escaping your lips. 

You could feel your eyes glimmer as you looked at your intertwined hands as he guided you through the rough alleyways of Small Heath. Even when you three manage to find a place to hide, he did not let go of your hand. Not once until it was clear. 

What was once colorless, like a fresh variety of  watercolors spreading ever so gracefully on a canvas– Tommy Shelby brought color to your world. 

***

Ever since that day by the river, you and Tommy became inseparable. It didn’t take long for his family to accept you with open arms. Arthur and John embraced you as another sister, while Ada was relieved to have another girl around. Finn was just a baby, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him. You became one of Tommy’s closest confidants, never straying far from his side. Even your mother grew well acquainted with the Shelby family; at first, she had been reluctant, but after meeting Tommy and Polly Gray, she gradually warmed up to them.

As a child, you were unaware of the nature of the feelings blooming inside you. Your heart raced when he was near, and your cheeks flushed a deep scarlet whenever he smiled. When he was sad, all you wanted was to take away his pain. These feelings grew stronger as time passed, transforming alongside you into something far more profound. You eventually realized he wasn’t just family to you; you were deeply in love with him.

These emotions terrified you. They were so overwhelming that you felt like you were on the brink of exploding. You had no way of knowing if he reciprocated your feelings; it was hard to tell. Honestly, it didn’t matter—being by his side was all you truly desired. Whether he viewed you as a friend or something more, all you wanted was for him to be happy.

The years with the Shelby family were a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Tommy’s mother committed suicide when he was nineteen and you were seventeen, a tragedy that shattered the family. Soon after, his father abandoned him and his siblings, leaving them in the care of Aunt Polly. The losses kept piling up, as Aunt Polly also lost her own son and daughter. Those times were unbearable, yet the family persevered, and you did your best to support them through their grief.

It felt unfair, living with the constant fear of rejection and heartbreak. Invisible reins held you back from expressing your feelings to Tommy. There were moments when you questioned whether the pain was worth it—watching him with other women, feeling a pang of jealousy. Yet, seeing the smile on his face, witnessing the fleeting happiness he experienced, made you feel that the pain was worth it. Sabotaging his happiness for your own unhappiness felt selfish, but the monster inside your mind fed on envy and would never be sated.

Being alone with your thoughts often conjured daydreams and false images of what it might be like to be with him. It filled the void of longing, but it was still terrifying. Despite living in a shithole called Small Heath, people regarded you as one of the most beautiful women there, especially in such a grim place. Yet, your world didn’t revolve solely around Tommy; you met other men, trying to fill the emptiness that only Tommy Shelby seemed capable of filling. But each attempt ended the same way, dissipating into nothingness.

Even amidst heavy losses, the silent vow of never leaving his side clutched at your heart, binding you to him.

Until the war came…

***

“Tommy!” you called out, pushing your way through the crowd as the new soldiers prepared to board the train for military headquarters in France. “Tommy! Arthur! John!”

You hollered their names once more, your gaze frantic. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears, worried that you had missed them.

“Sweet’eart! Over here!” A familiar voice called, causing you to pivot on your heels. You turned to find Tommy making his way toward you, his brothers following closely behind.

Instant relief washed over you, a sad smile replacing your worry as the brothers approached. “Please come back, you idiots,” you said, loud enough for them to hear over the din of the crowd. Without hesitation, you pulled Arthur and John into a tight embrace, leaving Tommy watching as you three formed a group hug. “Don’t fret, sweet’eart. We’ll be back before ya know it,” Arthur said, giving you a gentle squeeze. After you pulled away, he ruffled your hair, prompting you to pout and swat his hand away. “Okay, okay… just look out for each other,” you added, glancing at them all.

“Alright, Mum, we get it,” John replied with a playful smile, and you narrowed your eyes at him in mock annoyance.

Even though they were heading off to war, the lighthearted exchange eased the ache in your heart. You knew you wouldn’t see them for a long time, and there was a possibility you might never see them again. But you refused to dwell on that thought; you had to stay strong for them. They would come back. They had to—especially with each other by their sides.

“I love you both,” you said, embracing Arthur and John one last time before they melted into the crowd to join the line for the train, leaving you alone with Tommy. He looked at you with a slightly amused expression, but that only deepened the ache in your heart. A deep sigh escaped his lips. “I guess this is where we part ways for now, eh?” he said, his voice low and raspy, his ocean-blue eyes locking onto yours. You nodded solemnly, your frown unwavering.

“Don’t look so amused, Tommy,” you lightly scolded.

“Believe me, love—I’m not,” he countered, the nickname making your heart flutter despite the melancholy. You weren’t sure how you would handle being separated from him after being together for so long. “Don’t cry, c’mere…” he murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest, your body pressed against him.

You didn’t realize you were crying until one tear turned into two, then more, your vision becoming a blur. Feeling the warmth of his embrace and his heartbeat against your head only sent fresh waves of tears streaming down your cheeks. So much for trying to be strong. You were scared for him and his brothers. His large hand caressed your hair while his other arm wrapped around your back, keeping you close.

“Shhh, this isn’t forever. No need to choke on the tears now,” he lightly teased, squeezing you gently, his chin resting on top of your head in an attempt to comfort you. You sniffled out a weak laugh. “I can’t help it, Tommy. I’m just going to miss you. It’s going to be hard without you around…”

When you first heard that he and his brothers had volunteered for the war, you were furious. But now, in his arms, you couldn’t find the anger within you—especially not when feeling this close to him. You had all been meant to finish school together, but this was what they wanted.

What he wanted.

You felt small compared to him; you both were no longer children. Tommy was a man now, a man you deeply admired. As you stood in the warmth of his embrace, a part of you knew this might be the last time you saw the man you had fallen for.

You remained wrapped in each other’s arms, enveloped in silence despite the surrounding commotion, where others said farewell to their loved ones.

“I will come back for you,” Tommy murmured into your hair. The air caught in your throat as you froze in his arms, familiar sparks coursing through your body. In that moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world.

“I promise…”

*** 

Your forlorn gaze drifted among the crew of men, slender fingers tracing the rough cloth, leaving a faint chalk stain on your sleeve. Memories surged in your mind like wildflowers in a garden, ensnaring you like a Venus flytrap.

Five years later, Tommy returned, just as he promised. But he was not the man you once knew. He had become an empty shell, the echoes of war resonating within him. Visions of dirt, anguished screams, and blood haunted him, replaying in an unending loop. It felt as if he had turned into a ghost—a dead man walking.

Though he kept many secrets, you couldn’t hold that against him. The men who returned from the war in France were forever changed. It tore at your heart to see that after all those years of waiting, Tommy came back distant and stoic—not just with you, but even with his own family. You knew things would be different; he had returned as a stranger, beginning to push you away. At first, you wondered if he no longer cared for you, but you couldn’t accept that after all you had shared. A bitter suspicion crept in: perhaps he now saw you as just another sister. Yet your feelings for him remained unchanged, steadfast in the face of his retreat. The rest of the Shelby clan treated you the same, but it was Tommy’s withdrawal that cut the deepest.

And that stung you to your core.

Now, you stood in the Shelby Home and Betting Shop, doing your part to keep things tidy and stepping in as a nurse whenever a Peaky Blinder found trouble. This had become your routine since the boys left for France, with Polly and Ada helping to keep the business afloat. But since their return, everything felt different. You cherished your role in the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders, yet you longed to be more useful… to him.

Forcing yourself out of your daze, you maintained a light expression, even as your heart ached. Once your task was complete, you decided a drink was in order. With a destination in mind, you quickly grabbed your coat and headed to the Garrison Pub. The walk through Watery Lane to Montague Street felt familiar, and soon you arrived.

As you pushed open the double doors, the first thing that struck you was the singing. Your eyes fell on people dancing, glasses and pints in hand. Some were slow dancing, creating a lovely scene that eased the ache in your heart. A ghost of a smile tugged at your lips. The pub, once filled with tense silence or hushed murmurs, now thrummed with joy. You wondered what had sparked Tommy’s sudden change in spirit.

“Oh, well, look who it is… How you doin’, angel?” Harry called out as you approached the bar. You nodded, still wearing that faint smile. “Good evening, Harry,” you replied, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear with a gentle sigh.

“What can I get ya?” he asked, raising his voice over the off-key singing.

You rested your forearms against the counter. “Cider, please,” you ordered softly, glancing around as Harry turned to prepare your drink. As you scanned the room, your gaze locked onto those familiar icy blue eyes. It was Tommy, sitting in a meeting room with his brothers, a cigarette resting between his fingers.

He broke your gaze first, responding to his brothers’ calls to play cards. You couldn’t hear their conversation over the crowd’s noise, but curiosity tugged at you. You watched as he rolled his beautiful blue eyes playfully, lifting his hand to take a drag from his cigarette, exhaling swirling silver smoke. A faint smile danced on his lips, likely sparked by something Arthur or John had said. Laughter erupted from the room, followed by Arthur’s call: “We see ya, love! Come over here!”

You turned to find Arthur catching you staring at Tommy, heat rushing to your cheeks. A gentle scoff escaped your lips as you broke your gaze from the Shelby brothers, suddenly aware of your cider now sitting before you. Picking up the glass, you took a sip; the sweet apple flavor danced on your tongue before the warmth of the alcohol bloomed in your chest. It was just what you needed.

With renewed determination, you approached Tommy, Arthur, and John, who looked pleased to see you (mostly Arthur and John). As you made your way through the crowd into the room where the boys sat, you lightly squeezed the glass in your hand, hoping the cider would ease your nerves, even as embarrassment lingered at being caught staring at Tommy.

“Hi, boys,” you greeted with a half-smile, leaning against the wall near the doorway and taking another sip. “Singing’s allowed now?” you asked with a chuckle, raising your eyebrows and prompting light snickers from John and Arthur. Tommy merely cracked a small smile before a barmaid entered, diverting his attention.

Grace Burgess, the new barmaid at the Garrison, caught you off guard. You had nothing against her; she had always been kind. Yet a nagging suspicion stirred within you. She seemed too innocent, and you couldn’t help but wonder why she chose to work here of all places. Small Heath was rough, and surely there were better jobs available. But for women like her, the choices often boiled down to becoming a whore or marrying a wealthy man. You couldn’t exactly judge her.

You watched as she entered the room, capturing Tommy’s attention. A familiar pang of resentment stirred within you, jealousy rearing its head. You took another sip of your drink, trying to bury it. “Did you want whisky as well?” she asked softly, her accent prominent.

“No, just beer,” Tommy replied in his usual stoic manner, taking a drag from his cigarette as she slid a pint his way.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You might be overthinking it, but it felt strange that Tommy wouldn’t drink his usual Irish whisky. “Why no whisky, Tommy? Expecting trouble?” you teased lightly.

He spared you a vacant glance before returning to his cards with his brothers, which only fueled your annoyance. Clearly, he wasn’t amused, but that was nothing new. Whatever, you thought, looking away and shaking your head slightly in frustration. The man singing in the Garrison raised his volume, sounding increasingly off-key, prompting you to take another large swig of your cider, hoping to drown out the moment.

It wasn’t just you who noticed the dreadful singing. John chuckled as he turned to Tommy, fiddling with the toothpick between his teeth. “Jesus Christ, Tommy, seriously, what made you let them sing?” he asked, shifting the subject. You remained quiet, pondering the same question. At this point, you felt like a bystander. It had always been this way during their conversations, but you didn’t mind—being around them brought you a sense of contentment.

“They sound like they’re strangling cats out there,” John added with a smile, making you laugh softly. “He’s not wrong about that,” you chimed in, which elicited a chuckle from Arthur and a playful eye-roll from Tommy. Still, he remained silent.

“All right. Twenty’s the play, come on,” Arthur interjected, holding his cards close to his face. “But seriously, Tommy, what made you change your mind about the singing?” he teased, glad to see the three of you united in your curiosity about Tommy’s decision.

As soon as Arthur asked the question, Grace left the room, closing the doors behind her. Tommy turned to watch her go, and the grin on your lips faltered.

Oh no, you thought, your heart sinking. So it was Grace who had influenced him to allow singing in the pub. Your world didn’t revolve around Tommy (though that was a lie), and you had your own life, but it still stung. Was Tommy really looking for a woman now? It was only a matter of time, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Grace was undeniably beautiful: her fair complexion, soft blonde hair cascading just above her shoulders, and her petite form. It made sense why Tommy would be drawn to her, despite her suspicious arrival. In your limited interactions, she had been quite lovely.

You weren’t going to compare yourself to her. You knew you weren’t bad-looking, and you weren’t the type to belittle other women out of jealousy. Yet, the thought of her making Tommy happy twisted something inside you. When did you become so humble? Or were you just masking your insecurities with humility? A wave of frustration washed over you. You didn’t want to feel jealous, but it was a familiar ache, a relentless war with your emotions for Tommy that had raged since childhood.

“It’s about time, Tommy,” John said, his eyes following Grace as she exited the secluded room in the pub. “Time for what?” Tommy shot back, his tone blunt, an attempt to feign indifference. But it was obvious what John was suggesting. “Time for you to find yourself a woman,” John finished, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to suppress a dry chuckle, your stomach churning at the thought. No way were you going to engage with this conversation.

“Seriously?” you asked, striving to keep your voice steady while a false smile hovered on your lips. “Tommy doesn’t have time for that; his brooding scares all the ladies away.” You tried to tease, hoping to deflect your own insecurities. But inside, the tension grew, the unspoken feelings swirling like a storm, leaving you to grapple with the truth that lay just beneath the surface.

John smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t even deny it. My brother deserves happiness. Unless you want to be that woman.” His teasing comment nearly drained the color from your face, and you coughed into your drink. He did not just say that. You fought the urge to punch him in his smug face, and he knew it. “Just play the bloody hand,” Tommy interjected apathetically, cutting the awkward tension before it could settle.

Looking away from his brother–  he casually placed his cigarette back between his lips. “You stay the way you are, Tommy. Remember what dad used to say. Fast women and slow horses..” Arthur started before John joined in to stay in unison with him. “Will ruin your life.” They said together as John pointed at Tommy who only smiled at his brothers. It honestly warmed your heart to see him smile, you knew only his family could make him do so. “No offense, sweet’eart.” Arthur nodded his head to you while you only rolled your eyes at him sipping your cider. “Shut up, Arthur.” You scoffed with a little faint smirk, you knew his comment wasn’t implied to you but you still thought the phrase was stupid.  

The playful banter soon came to an end as a bright light flashed into the pub immediately causing everyone’s smiles in the room to vanish from their lips. “Coppers?” John asked sternly sitting up in his seat and Tommy only shook his head, his expression now cold. “No.” He answered. Tension filled the room as you moved toward the pub door, eager to step outside. Suddenly, Tommy stood up, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious. He gently grasped your forearm, pulling you back to his side with a firm yet protective grip. You turned to him, frowning in confusion, and he met your gaze, lightly shaking his head as if to say it wasn’t safe. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made it impossible to ignore him. The weight of his stern gaze held you in place, a silent command that prevented you from stepping outside into the uncertainty beyond the door.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.

You noticed Arthur and John sliding out of their chairs, sensing that something was about to unfold. A wave of timidity washed over you as your chest tightened with anticipation, anchoring you in the meeting room of the pub. Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed, followed by a loud slam at the entrance, reverberating throughout the space.

“Holy Shit. It’s Billy Kimber.” You heard  Harry say out loud who stood behind the bar counter with disbelief and a hint of fear. 

Your gaze hardened as you shot Tommy a sidelong look, realization sinking in. You were right—Tommy was indeed expecting trouble.

What the fuck did you do, Tommy?

Your eyes screamed the question, filled with a mix of frustration and concern. Tommy broke eye contact, his grip on your forearm tightening just enough to convey both reassurance and a hint of apology. It was a familiar gesture, one that spoke volumes about his intentions even when words failed him. This was his mess, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on both of you.

Turning to John and Arthur, you offered them the same exasperated expression, hoping for some clarity. Arthur shrugged, his gaze solemn and unfaltering, while John looked tense, his jaw clenched. He bit deeper into the wooden toothpick between his lips, a clear sign that he was ready for whatever was about to unfold.

You knew they were more than capable of handling a fight, but a pang of anxiety tightened in your chest at the thought of violence. You didn’t want this to escalate. With a heavy sigh, you turned back to the closed doors in front of you, a subtle frown resting on your lips.

In a moment of instinct, you slipped your forearm out of Tommy’s grip, the release feeling oddly bittersweet. Yet, as your hands brushed together, you hesitated before lacing your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand brought a sense of calm amidst the chaos, grounding you in the moment. You could feel the tension in him, a mix of determination and protectiveness that only deepened your resolve. 

To your surprise he didn’t pull away from you, he only gave your hand a comforting squeeze. 

You remained silent, releasing a deep sigh that barely eased the heavy weight of anxiety pressing down on your chest. It felt like a futile effort, especially as a loud voice suddenly pierced the tense silence, sending a chill through you.

Through the glass, you could only make out the dark silhouette of Billy Kimber, a figure that loomed ominously, casting a shadow over your thoughts. Your heart raced as you recalled his reputation—a man known for his ruthlessness, someone who thrived on

intimidation and fear. The reality of his presence sent a wave of dread coursing through you, and you felt an instinctive urge to retreat further into the room.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that the stakes had just risen, and with it, the sense of impending danger tightened around you like a noose. The weight of the moment settled heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere and heightening your awareness. You were acutely aware that any misstep could lead to chaos, and the thought gripped you with an unsettling mixture of fear and determination.

“Is there any man here named Shelby?” 

Silence. 

Clearly Billy Kimber didn’t like that as a loud gunshot rang through the air making you flinch harshly and squeeze Tommy’s  hand.  He remained composed, his grip steady, and brushed his thumb lightly against the back of your hand—a wordless gesture meant to reassure you amidst the chaos.

Though his expression was stoic, you could sense the underlying strength he was projecting. It was as if he was silently promising that he would handle whatever came next, and that you were safe with him. His calm demeanor grounded you, even as the tension in the room mounted.

You met his gaze, searching for reassurance, and found a steady resolve in his eyes. He was focused, ready to face the threat head-on, but there was also a flicker of vulnerability that reminded you he felt the weight of the moment too. 

In that instant, despite the fear tightening your chest, you felt a deep sense of solace within him. Tommy might not show his emotions openly, but the subtle warmth of his touch and the unwavering strength he exuded told you everything you needed to know. You had faith in him. 

“I said, Is there any men named Shelby?” Billy demanded again, impatience lacing his voice like a threat.

Tommy released your hand, and you felt a fleeting sense of loss at the absence of his comforting touch. He glanced at Arthur, who gently grasped your arms and positioned you behind him, his tall frame creating a protective barrier. You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as a wave of anxiety washed over you.

Without hesitation, Tommy stepped forward, opening the door with a calm authority that felt almost palpable. He moved with a quiet intensity, exuding an air of confidence that suggested he was ready for whatever confrontation lay ahead. John and Arthur followed closely, and you reluctantly trailed behind them, your heart pounding as you braced yourself for the danger waiting just outside.

As the four of you emerged into the dim light, the atmosphere thickened with tension. Billy stood there, his imposing figure radiating menace, and you could feel the weight of his gaze sweeping over you. The air felt electric, charged with unspoken threats and the potential for violence.

Tommy’s expression remained stoic, his demeanor unflinching. He projected a fierce protectiveness, and you could sense his resolve as he faced Billy. There was no hint of fear in him, only a steady determination that steadied your own nerves. You understood in that moment that he was prepared for anything.

Drawing a shaky breath, you realized that, despite the looming danger, you weren’t alone. With Tommy’s composed strength beside you, you felt a flicker of courage igniting within.

Staying behind Arthur you made sure you kept your gaze low avoiding Billy Kimber’s despite his eyes burning into you making you feel exposed from his gaze. 

“Harry, get these men a drink.” Tommy ordered the bartender before completely stepping into the room. “Everyone else go home.” And with a wave of his hand everyone scattered the Garrison like rat’s scramming outside of the pub clearing the room in seconds. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you stood off to the side, your heart racing with a mix of concern and frustration. Tommy turned to you, his stern look piercing through the tension in the room, a gaze that could make anyone quake in their shoes. “You go home,” he said, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. He briefly pointed his finger at you, a gesture that felt both protective and dismissive, before pulling up a chair to join the other men. Harry had already set a plate of glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table, then swiftly left, sensing the escalating tension.

“But…” you began, stepping forward, your voice trembling slightly. You felt a deep urge to stand by him, to confront whatever was about to happen. But as you met his unwavering gaze, a pang of helplessness washed over you. “I said go home,” Tommy repeated, his tone firm, a wall of resolve that made your heart sink.

Your chest tightened painfully as you involuntarily glanced at Billy Kimber, his gaze undressing you in a way that felt like a physical assault. The violation of his stare made bile rise in your throat, and a wave of revulsion washed over you. In a rush, you turned away from the Shelby boys, the desire to escape overwhelming. You hurried toward the back door of the pub, each step a desperate bid to leave that oppressive atmosphere behind. As you closed the door, the cool night air wrapped around you, a gentle balm against your flushed cheeks, offering a momentary reprieve from the discomfort inside.

But as you stood outside, the weight of the moment clung to you, suffocating the fleeting sense of relief. The darkness of the night loomed, and a thought crept into your mind, shattering the calm and pulling you back into the turmoil you desperately sought to escape.

What did Tommy want to do with the Birmingham boys, anyways? 

Being discreet, your heels made a swift pivot as you turned to face the closed door. You gently tugged it open just enough to leave it ajar, then stood outside, straining to listen. The gap wasn’t wide enough for a clear view inside, but you were close enough to catch the murmurs of the exchange. Were you being nosy? Yes, definitely. Was it any of your business? No, it wasn’t. Did you care? A little, but not really.

You knew you were treading on dangerous ground, yet when had you ever heeded Tommy’s orders? You’d known him since childhood—what was he trying to hide from you? And why should you let him boss you around like everyone else? That wasn’t going to happen. With a mix of defiance and curiosity, you leaned in closer, eager to uncover what secrets lay behind that door.

“I’ve never approved of women in pubs but when they look like that..” Billy’s voice dripped with vulgarity, and you knew he was talking about you. A wave of disgust washed over you, sending icy shivers up your spine as you pressed yourself further into the shadows.

Clearly, Tommy wasn’t going to let Billy indulge in his lewd remarks. He cut straight to business, his tone cold and unyielding. “You said you wanted men called Shelby. You’ve got three of them.” he replied, each word laden with a tension that crackled in the air.

You strained to absorb every detail of the exchange, your heart racing. The swift strike of a match igniting sent a jolt through you, followed by the sharp clink of glasses being filled with whiskey. Each sound amplified your sense of unease, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken threats as you braced yourself for what might come next.

You weren’t going to lie; eavesdropping felt deeply unsettling, especially with gangsters who assumed you had left and believed they were truly alone. Their confident bravado made the atmosphere even more charged, and you could almost feel the danger simmering just beneath the surface. You didn’t want to become a living example of the phrase “Curiosity killed the cat,” yet the magnetic pull of the conversation was hard to resist.

You knew you could turn around and walk away, that you had every reason to escape the tense scene unfolding inside, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the risk you were taking. 

“Right, I never heard of ya. And then I did hear of ya, some little didicoy razor gang. I thought to myself, so what? But then you fucked me over. So now you have my undivided attention.” Billy started off before a brief tense silence hovered over them. Honestly the tension was so thick, it made you feel like you were suffocating, the more you listened. This anticipation was silently killing you. 

“By the way, which one am I talking to? Who’s the boss?” Billy asked harshly. 

“Well, I’m the oldest.” Arthur answered gruffly, sounding completely unphased by Billy. 

The leader of the Birmingham boys wasn’t amused by that answer, “Hah! Clearly. Huh.” Billy quipped back sarcasm clearly dripping in his tone. “Are you laughing at my brother?” John asked menacingly which made your stomach twist on the inside, now anxiety clawing at your chest. Goddamnit, John. You mentally cried as you couldn’t suppress the cringe that flashed on your features. You knew John was only ready to protect his brother and you loved him for it but sometimes it worried you that it would get him killed. 

A dry irritated chuckle left Billy’s lips, “Right, He’s the oldest. You’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you, ‘cause you’re looking at me up and down, like I’m a fucking tart.” Billy snapped as you can assume that he was talking to Tommy which made your heart lurch in your chest. 

“I want to know what you want.” Tommy answered cooly, even when you’re listening you can imagine the apathetic expression embracing his features and the gentle shrug of his shoulders, waiting for Billy to get to the point. You always admired how level headed Tommy was in situations like these, it was like fear never existed in his mind. 

“There were suspicious betting patterns at Kempton Park. A horse called Monaghan Boy…He won by a length twice and then finished last. With three thousand pounds bet on him.” Another male voice intervened explaining what was the problem until Tommy cut him off, “Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?” He asked almost in an unamused mocking manner. 

“I’m Mr.Kimber’s adviser and accountant.” The male voice introduced himself, “And I’m the fucking boss, okay? Right. End of parlay. You fixed the race without my permission!” You heard Billy shout along with the chair scraping against the wooden floor indicating he stood up from his seat. It sounded like he was about to throw a tantrum. How was this guy the boss again? You asked yourself. Clearly has no class and certified man child. “You fucking gypsy scum! What, live off the war pensions and these poor old Garrison Lane widows? That’s your level. I am Billy Kimber! I run the races. And you fixed one of them. So I’m gonna have you shot against the post.” He loudly cursed and threatened the Shelby’s, making your blood boil. He was an absolute abomination. 

You weren’t inherently aggressive, but the harsh reality of growing up in the gritty streets of Small Heath among gangsters had forged a simmering anger within you. As you stood there, your hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of confrontation, the sting of your fingernails digging into your palms grounded you. It was a reminder of how close you were to crossing a line you couldn’t uncross—how easy it would be to unleash that anger and lose yourself in the chaos. You felt the weight of your breath, heavy with restraint, knowing that acting on your impulses could blow your cover and shatter whatever fragile peace you had left.

Before you could think anything else you heard Tommy call out his name, “Mr.Kimber.” It surprised you by how calm he sounded after that man child who calls himself “the boss” insulted them. You heard another chair scoot back against the floor, “Look at it. That has my name on it. It’s from the Lee family.” Tommy said, you guessed he probably tossed an object something at Billy to get his point across. “You are also at war with the Lees, Mr.Kimber, am I right? The Lees are attacking your bookies and taking your money. Your men can’t control them. You need help.” Tommy added.

A gentle frown tugged at your lips as confusion mingled with intrigue, your eyebrows knitting together. You stood in the dim alley behind the pub, ears straining to catch any sound through the narrow crack of the door. Glancing around quickly, you scanned the shadows, acutely aware of the moonlight casting an eerie glow, your only source of illumination. It felt vulnerable out here, the stillness amplifying the danger; anyone could easily slip up on you in this darkness.

To your surprise, you were actually alone. Perhaps the news of Billy Kimber’s presence in Small Heath had sent everyone else scurrying away from the Garrison, creating a rare sense of safety in the shadows of the alley. With a quick glance at your surroundings to ensure you were still undisturbed, you focused your attention back on the conversation inside, the intrigue pulling you deeper into the moment. “Perhaps we should listen to what Mr.Shelby has to say. Before we make our decisions.” You heard Billy’s advisor take an interest in what else Tommy had in mind. 

“Right. The Lees are doing a lot of talking at the fairs. They have a lot of kin. They’re saying the racetracks are easy meat. Because the police are busy with strikes. Now, we have connections. We know how they operate. You have muscle. Together we can beat them. Divided, maybe not.” Tommy finished elaborating. Even though this was awful timing to have these thoughts in this moment and you were still slowly grasping the conversation. Tommy’s brilliance in this situation still made you feel so infatuated. It was one of the things you loved about him. 

“Mr. Kimber, perhaps we should take some time for reflection. Possibly make arrangements for a second meeting.” Whatever Tommy was planning it was sure working out in his favor considering how easily he got Billy Kimber’s advisor on board with his plan. 

“I admire you, Mr. Kimber.” Tommy complimented which should’ve made you feel astonished but it didn’t. You recognized Tommy’s tactics, he was feeding Billy Kimber’s ego to make him believe that he was the one in the advantage. “You started with nothing

and built a legitimate business. It would be an honor to work with you, Mr.Kimber.” Tommy stated his voice vaguely laced with the impression that he actually held respect for Billy. 

But you knew better. 

It fell silent for a moment, so quiet you could hear your heart beating in your ears. The suspense was unbearable; you couldn’t just sit and listen to their conversation. You needed to see what was happening in that deafening stillness. Unable to resist, you gently pulled the door toward you, widening the gap just enough to peek inside.

You saw the gangsters standing in the room: Billy by the front doors of the pub, flanked by his two bodyguards, who had their small pistols trained on Tommy, who was now on his feet. John and Arthur remained seated, watching intently as their brother faced off against the boss of the horse races. “Nobody works “with” me. People work “for” me.” Billy sneered before digging into his pocket, taking out a coin tossing it to the ground with his thumb, the coin landing in front of Tommy’s feet with a loud clatter noise.  “Pick it up, pikey.” Billy arrogantly commanded, staring at Tommy with a condescending expression.

Fuck this guy. Seriously fuck this guy, fuck Billy limp dick Kimber. Your mind was a whirlwind of violent thoughts and profanities you never knew you were capable of, each one a reminder of the anger simmering beneath the surface. It took you back to when you were a little girl, ready to hurl a shoe at Freddy Thorne for making your dress smell like dirty water. In that moment, you felt fierce and powerless all at once, and maybe, despite the years that had passed, some part of you hadn’t changed at all.

There was that heavy silence again– which made it even more suffocating for you to watch and listen. Despite the immense apprehension you felt from the room, you watched the scene between two powerful men unfold. You couldn’t see Tommy’s face as you could only see his back (along with Arthur and John’s)  but you can tell by his rigid body language that this was testing his pride. 

After a few more moments of heavy tension and piercing stares, Tommy took a step forward bending down to pick up the coin, which made John shoot up from his chair to reach to Tommy’s side defensively until Tommy quickly raised his hand pointing at John in a warning gesture. “Sit. Sit down.” Tommy demanded in a low tone making John reluctantly retreat back to his chair obeying his brother. 

Once Tommy picked up the coin, Billy glanced up at the ceiling which had a little bullet hole, no thanks to him. “It’s for your ceiling.” he said bluntly before turning away walking out of the pub. “Thank you, Mr.Kimber.” Tommy said to him as he held the coin in his hand twirling it between his fingers before turning to face Billy’s accountant and advisor who walked over to Tommy with his little briefcase and hat in hand. “We will be at Cheltenham.” He informed Tommy the location where the next meeting will be held. 

With another drag of his cigarette, Tommy parted his plump lips to speak, “As will I.” He concluded with a little tilt of his head, lightly exhaling smoke. The accountant and Billy’s men left the room leaving just Tommy and his brother’s alone in the pub. A huge quiet breath of relief escaped from your lips, that you didn’t even realize you were holding in. That was excruciating to watch– taking mental note not to be as nosy anymore considering how you were scared that you were going to witness a shoot out in the pub (which would be nothing new). Yet, it was only another rare successful meeting without any bloodshed. 

“So you picked a fight with the Lee’s on purpose. Tommy, we can’t mess with Billy fucking Kimber.” Arthur’s usual boisterous voice exclaimed as he stared at Tommy incredulously while leaning into his seat, his hand waving in the air slightly. 

“Get yourself a decent haircut, man. We’re going to the races.” Tommy says with a smirk dismissing his older brother, mentally cheering for himself  before chugging down a glass of his irish whiskey in victory. 

As you struggled to piece together the chaotic scene you had just witnessed, your thoughts felt like a jumbled puzzle, each fragment tugging at your heart. Tommy had provoked the Lee family and Billy Kimber deliberately, fully aware of the tension that simmered between them. Now, he was threading himself between two fierce enemies—what was he really trying to achieve? A sense of unease settled in your gut, hinting at a deeper, darker motive.

Then another thought pierced through your turmoil: you wanted to be useful to Tommy, and this might be your chance. The idea both excited and terrified you. Billy had taken more than a liking to you—his unwanted attention made your skin crawl—but perhaps you could use that to your advantage. The prospect of stepping into this dangerous game ignited a fierce determination within you. You yearned to prove to Tommy that you were still capable of supporting him, that you hadn’t lost your edge despite everything you had endured.

As the weight of the situation settled over you, you realized that instead of getting a haircut, it looked like you were going to need a new dress—one that would catch Billy’s eye and give you the leverage you needed. The thought filled you with a mix of dread and resolve; you were about to step into a world where your choices could either empower you or trap you further. It was a risk, but for Tommy, you were willing to take it.

Off to the races.. 

***

PART 2 !

Hi guys! I know it has been forever, which stinks but I legit think I had good timing this time since the new Peaky Blinders movie is coming out next year! I am so excited, I had this in drafts in forever so I was finally able to edit it and with the help of @virginburial ! She is an amazing writer so please check out her stuff. I also already have part 2 made I just need to edit that and I will post it. It just has been crazy over the few months but anyways! Thank you guys for reading! ♡

[virginburial]

i need him

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

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel a little better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he thought about something else. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

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

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

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

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

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

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

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

It took all your willpower not to react. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, you’re killing me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no.”

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

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[virginburial]

no lottie matthews shaped present under the tree i’m going back to BED

[virginburial]

RAHUL KOHLI as Sheriff Hassan MIDNIGHT MASS | 2021

[virginburial]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

PAIRING : JIM X FEM!READER ( DELINQUENT SEASON ) 

song : illicit affairs by taylor swift.

WORD COUNT : 8K 

SUMMARY : You were friends with Jim but slowly you began to have a crush on him which became more than you could bear as he was already married but that didn’t stop the both of you. 

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+), ANGST, JIM BEING SOFT, FINGERING, P IN V, NO PROTECTION, PRAISE KINK, AFFAIR. IT’S HONESTLY NOT THAT BAD. (STILL HOT THO) 

♱

You messed up. 

That’s it. You messed up. 

You allowed yourself to be carried away and swept up within the moment that wasn’t even supposed to happen. if it weren’t for the way he was gazing at you with his piercing yet mesmerizing pale blue hues or maybe the way he grazed you with his finger tips that sent small sparks throughout your body then maybe just maybe you wouldn’t have ended up bare in the sheets with the man who was already married..

Married to another woman..  

The worst part out of all of this, is that you knew he was married. The fact that you knew and you allowed it to happen. You have every right to feel revolted with yourself right now. If the universe or god or any great entity that controlled this vast universe it definitely  knows how much you loathe yourself right now. You needed to slow down and think about how this even happened. 

You lived in a Suburban neighborhood–  in Dublin, east coast of Ireland. A single mother with a beautiful nine year old daughter named Mary, a journalist for your own advice column and a part time Pilates trainer at a studio that your sister owned. As far as you knew, your life was normal. Between spending time with your daughter and your jobs, your  schedule flowed perfectly together. You would be able to drop Mary off in the morning for school, teach class later on in the morning  and you would be able to go home during the day to work on your advice column before picking Mary up from school, then the cycle repeats unless otherwise. 

You’ve always been on your own. Having a daughter and two jobs, your love life was a punchline of a lame joke. In case you are wondering about Mary’s father, that’s a whole other story of its own, let’s just say he was completely out of the picture. 

You would be lying if you told someone that it didn’t feel lonely sometimes. It was lonely, it was incredibly lonely; of course you’ve made multiple attempts to at least go out on a few dates and have a nightstand if you were lucky enough but most of the time those don’t even work out. 

And It’s not because you weren’t attractive, no it was quite the opposite. In fact, you were quite beautiful– which was ironic for you because when you were younger your father called you the ugly duckling between you and your sister but then you prospered into a beautiful swan as you grew older. Like any normal person you still have your insecurities (no thanks to dad) yet overall you felt secure with yourself.

Clearly, your beauty wasn't the reason why your love life was shriveling away like a dried up raisin. It was the fact that you were picky, and you knew your heart wouldn’t always be completely in it. You weren’t that kind of person to simply have one night stands– but you admire those who do without forming any kind of connection that wasn’t only based on physical attraction. 

You’ve tried and even though it felt good to have that void in your chest to be filled in that  moment, the lingering feeling of desolation and melancholy always crawls its way back in. It wasn’t good for your mental health  and it wasn’t good for your daughter. So you were only left with your jobs and your delusions of a love life to suddenly appear. But you knew deep down that Mary deserved a good father figure while she’s still young and you shouldn’t put so much hope into your fantasies.  

Mary was a sweet girl, too sweet for her own good– she has a beautiful mix of your features and her father’s. The features that she shared from her father never bothered you either as you knew it wasn’t her fault that she was placed here on this earth because you didn’t wrap it until you tapped it. Of course, you and Mary’s relationship wasn’t always perfect but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You love her regardless– with all of your heart. Mary was the ray of sunshine you had in your life and  you were more than happy to be her mother. 

Knowing how kindhearted and smart your daughter was, she had many friends in her school. Even during teacher and parent conferences you’ve always been told many times how she loved helping the other kids, and the only times she would get in trouble was due to how talkative she was and you didn’t think it was a problem either.

And that’s how you met him. 

It was a gray and cloudy weekday, as you got off the phone with Mary’s teacher claiming that it was after school and Mary was waiting for you. Accidently getting caught up with your advice catalog time went by over your head without even realizing and now your child is sitting in the school alone and you knew she was going to be a little..not little definitely upset with you.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Curses and all other kinds of profanities spilled from your lips as you frantically slipped on your mini cotton black trench coat. Your foot practically kicked down your front door before running like a trackstar to your car. Fortunately you didn’t live too far from the school and, without getting caught speeding past red lights, you managed to arrive at school where your daughter was currently waiting at. 

Your hasty footsteps echoed throughout the hallways of the school as you moved through with only one destination in mind, which was your child’s classroom. Once you were close to the classroom where Mary was, you halted in your footsteps as you watched Mary leave the classroom with two other kids, a boy and a girl and then a man. A man that you knew well wasn't Mary’s teacher so you assumed that it must be the other children’s father. 

Furrowing your slightly together you couldn’t help but to feel a little confused but relieved that at least you weren’t the only parent that wasn’t perfect. But it also did make you feel a bit skeptical as it is why a random man would be with kids and your only daughter. 

“Mary!” You called out to her, your tone airy yet smooth which caught the attention of your daughter and the man. Immediately,  your mind stopped racing and your heart leaped from your chest as his entrancing stunning ocean eyes met yours. It was as if his eyes had some deep hidden meaning behind them, it almost made you feel a little intimidated– how tired yet pierce his eyes were. His figure was lean but the broadness of his chest also stood out, along with his dark but slightly graying tresses, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, his plump yet light pink lips, and smooth yet freckled fair skin…

Pretty.. You thought. 

But as quickly as you fell in a captivated daze you quickly pulled yourself out of it the same way, you knew well that you were attracted to this man but considering how he was here and with kids– you can assume he is married or hope he wasn’t a random stranger. 

“Mom!” You hear Mary call out happily as she walks towards you. A wholehearted smile took over your lips as you lovingly gazed down at her, allowing your hand to gently caress her back pulling her to your side. Thank god that she wasn’t upset with you. “I am so sorry, babygirl, I lost track of time.” You said softly as you felt Mary raise her head up to look at you. “It’s okay, I was with them.” she responded looking over at the alluring man and his kids who were in fact walking in your direction. 

With each step he took you could feel your heart pound in your chest as he was now approaching you, his hands stuffed in his dark blue puffy jacket along with his kids who followed behind him and soon had their own conversation with Mary. 

The man only gave you an awkward half smile as his gaze never left your form, you can tell that he was definitely on the reserved side. “Hi, you’re their father?” You asked giving him a little smile in return, then you couldn’t help but to mentally slap yourself a little bit with the question as you noticed in fact the boy and girl that were talking to Mary did in fact look like him. You watched as the man blinked in confusion for a moment, being thrown off by your question– you could feel  the conversation instantly dying before it even started. 

A  dry airy chuckle left your lips as you felt yourself cringe, “I-I’m sorry, stupid question– I was just..” before you could finish your sentence you heard a deep chuckle coming from him stopping you from rambling. “No, No it’s fine.” He says softly, shaking his head for a second with the same ghostly smile. “I get it, I would wonder the same thing  if a random man would be standing with my kids too, it would be really weird..” he paused for a moment before continuing, “I-uh, I was also late picking up my kids so yeah..” He briefly elaborated as you felt yourself relax as another gentle relieved chuckle left your lips, watching him. His voice was smooth and sonorous, it sent unwavering shivers throughout your body. Just by looking at him– he had a lingering forlorn yet cryptic aura surrounding him and it was reeling you in like a moth to a light. You hoped you didn’t look too obvious. 

“I totally get you, I was just caught up with work that I didn’t realize that time flew by, you know?” You smiled warmly and for a moment you thought you saw him falter. 

“I’m Y/N.” 

You watched as his little timid faint grin formed into a genuine smile. It was as if air was caught in your throat, your heart fluttered  at the sight of his smile. You felt proud of yourself that you managed to make him smile.

“Jim..Nice to meet you.” He introduced himself  politely as he extended his hand towards you which you did your best not to look eager to grab and shook his hand in a little handshake. You immediately caught the golden band on his finger indicating he was indeed vowed to someone else. You couldn’t help but not be able to suppress the disappointment that flooded through your body. He had a wife and kids.The forced mentality of  ‘it is what it is’ came into mind. And the attraction you had for Jim will most likely be temporary. 

Unfortunately, the kids manage to break the tension between you, asking if they can walk together. You and Jim didn’t mind as you all walked out of the school together. You managed to hold a longer conversation with him, taking the opportunity to get to know him better. 

Jim was definitely a man with a few words, and was more listening to you than you listening to him but he still present with you in the conversation. You both share a mutual affection for your kids, and you both worked at home– it was nice to share similarities with someone, to you it always made you feel like you were understood better, and you hoped he felt the same way. Although it's not uncommon to understand another parent- but  between you and Jim you both just want to get through the day. 

Luckily, It wasn’t just you that genuinely enjoyed his company as he offered to exchange numbers before parting ways. As this began to possibly be the start of a beautiful friendship for you.

You knew you were going to see him again soon, maybe for the rest of the following week. And you were right, when you picked up Mary on time for the rest of the week you would sometimes see Jim walk out with his kids. You two would exchange waves and polite smiles then carry on. Despite exchanging numbers neither of you made the first move to send a text first. You felt a little disappointed but you knew that maybe it was for the best and you shouldn’t look for some sort of connection that wasn’t there in the first place, let alone a text. 

Jim has a wife. That is that —  you two are also just acquaintances, and your kids are friends. That is all. Yet,  that didn’t stop your thoughts always trailing back to him– and you began to feel a little angry with yourself for it. Were you truly so lonely to be thinking about a man you only had spoken once? 

What is wrong with you?

 Get over this crush already. 

This would go on until the end of the week on a Friday, just as you and your daughter got home from school, a gentle ding emitted from your pocket. Stepping into the house, closing the door behind you, you took out your phone. You didn’t get to see who texted you as you heard Mary’s loud footsteps run off to the kitchen leaving her jacket on the floor along with her book bag.. 

“Mom, I am going to have a cookie!” she said loudly before you could respond you already heard the cabinet shut. Shaking your head you released an exasperated sigh, “Mary, please pick up after yourself! And don’t eat all of them!” You responded raising your voice a little bit while locking the door behind you. 

Another ding went off on your phone once more adding waves to your annoyance. Who was trying to contact you? A gentle frown painted over your lips as your hand reached into the buttpocket of your jeans to grab your phone to see that you got a message from an unknown number. 

Hey, It’s the random man from school.

Kidding, it’s me Jim. 

You felt your heart stop beating in your chest for a split moment as you vacantly stared down at the gray text bubbles that were on your little phone screen. You felt many waves of emotions crash down on you– denial, shock, guilt, and then excitement. Gradually a ghostly smile was painted on your lips replacing the gentle frown that was present a few moments ago, just when you began to accept that nothing was going to happen.

It was funnily convenient. 

You didn’t gloss over the fact that he remembered your conversation when you guys first spoke to each other as you felt your heart skip a beat once more. 

Had he been thinking about you as well? 

You can still be wrong that maybe he just wanted to ask you something about school or your kids and that would still be fine. This was nothing, harmless– this wouldn’t escalate to anything more. Just keep it short and simple. 

After a few minutes of typing and deleting your message multiple times to think how you should respond due to your mixed emotions of anxiety and excitement— you finally responded to him.  

Hi, Jim! Lol. How are you? 

You had no idea that after sending back that one message, you guys would be texting for the rest of that day. 

♱

It is strange how someone can go from being a stranger to a good friend to someone you ended up falling for. You knew it was a bad idea the minute you laid your eyes on him and somehow like a black hole Jim effortlessly sucked you in. Ever since the first text he had sent you, you guys began to talk everyday; through texts, and eventually calls. It only has been a few weeks since you guys first met. 

 You even discovered that he only lived a few blocks away from you which resulted in a lot of Mary having playdates with his daughter. This became a normal thing, almost every Friday Mary would have these playdates. The first time when he was at your house it was a bit awkward since you were used to only talking to him over text or calls but with a cup of coffee you both relaxed and talked how you guys normally do in the dining room while the girls would be hanging out in Mary’s room. 

It also didn’t help how being around his calming presence made you feel so comfortable, made you feel like you could tell him anything and he would just listen to you. 

You often wondered if his wife knew about your friendship with him, or if she even knew about you at all. She probably does since her daughter occasionally hangs out with Mary almost every Friday, you knew you shouldn’t even be thinking about those kinds of things. 

Everything felt good, way too good. And with your luck you knew when things feel way too good, that means things were going to take a painful turn. 

Sitting criss cross on your living room couch alone in the house on a Tuesday afternoon, you were on the phone with Jim. As usual with a dumb happy grin on your face you guys talked and it ended up with him assisting you with your advice column on your laptop. 

“A twenty year old girl in college got heartbroken by her boyfriend she dated since childhood because he cheated on her and she wants to go back and talk to him but she knows it’s wrong. What should she do?” You asked as the grin never wavered from your lips. 

“Maybe go to more parties and get wasted and she’ll find another guy by the end of the second semester?” You jokingly snickered as you leaned back against the couch, your muscles easing into the cushions. Hearing Jim’s light chuckle on the other line of the phone. 

“God no. What kind of fucking advice is that?” Jim asked playfully, still chuckling softly, you could feel your heart flutter at the sound that came from him.

“Okay, Okay, fine– I am not going to say that. But she is only twenty and she has so many other things to worry about other than a boy. Like her possible career and her friends and her future! And she should try and focus on that instead.” You exclaimed. 

“That is much better. Way better than the last answer.” Jim responded, causing you to laugh softly, shaking your head slightly as your gaze stared down at your laptop, your fingers gently pressing on the letters on your keyboard, typing up your answer. 

“Alright done, give this a listen.” 

“Shoot.” 

You cleared your throat a little bit as you began to read. “You lost someone important to you, and how you feel is completely valid. But you have to feel your feelings out, and try to focus on what’s really important. Such as yourself, your career, and future– going back to him won’t change what happened. Remember that you have friends and family to support you. And that you’re not alone in this. All you can do is try to take care of yourself.”

Jim was silent, as you finished reading which caused you to fiddle in your seat a little. 

“Thoughts?” You asked wondering what he was thinking. 

“That was good, pretty good.” He responded nonchalantly, almost being blunt which caused you to worry a little bit, your grin faltering slightly. 

“Is that all? Should I add more? It sounds like you don’t like it.” You asked reluctantly. 

Jim was quick to encounter your statement. “No,no,no! I do. I really do like it. It’s really sweet of you, It’s lovely, you’re lovely.” 

You could feel the blood rushing up into your cheeks, turning into a harsh crimson hue. Who knew a  simple compliment could make you feel so smitten? Silence hovered over the two of you for a moment until Jim was the first one to break it. 

“Y/N?” He called out to you softly pulling you out from your daze. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go silent on you.” You chuckled nervously. It was just his last comment.

“No it’s fine..” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know what has come over me.” Jim said softly back to his timid tone. This only made your heart race once more as you sighed softly. 

“I appreciate it, thank you for being my assistant.” You did your best to save this conversation from turning tense. And it felt like it didn’t make the slightest difference. 

“I mean it, you know?” 

You paused once more the burning sensation in your cheeks didn’t change. Now intently listening to him as you can hear him about to say more. 

“You really are lovely, Y/N..I mean it.” 

There it was…That tension again, the suffocating tension that made you feel like you were drowning. And within that moment, like a wave crashing and meeting the ocean shore,  you knew that you were falling hard for him, wiping the grin that was on your lips away. 

 Then the golden band on his finger flashed in your mind. 

No, you can’t do this. 

“Jim, what do you mean by that?” You asked him hesitantly yet firmly as you removed your laptop from your grasp before grabbing your phone, taking it off of the speaker and pressing it against your ear. 

“What do you mean by what I mean?” He asked, sounding a bit taken back by your sudden question. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, I was just…I don’t know how to explain it but that felt like more than a compliment.” You stated as you paused once more, were you overthinking this? You were about to open your mouth to cut the silence but then Jim interrupted you. 

“Because it was more than a compliment.” 

In that moment, It was as if something took over your body and possessed you, this confession spilled from your lips like vomit.

 “Jim, I think I am falling for you.” You breathed out.  

Then a tense silence completely consumed the both of you. 

Oh fuck, did I really say that!? You mentally wanted to slam your face against the table. Fuck, you had to fix this quick. No, there was no way of fixing this now, you fucking blew it. 

“Jim, I'm sorry. You’re married and I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I am an idiot, I am so so sorry.” You began to ramble, not letting Jim be able to interrupt you. “Y/N wait, wait-” but you weren’t listening as your thumb slammed on the red at the bottom of your screen ending the call. 

This was a long awaited painful turn that you’ve brought on yourself. Now all that was left was you and your panicked and raging thoughts. You clearly took it too far, getting caught up in the moment that it left you feeling like an idiot.

 

♱

 It was your day off today from the Pilates studio and you didn’t have to do much for your advice column. So for the rest of that morning you took the time to clean up the house. Mary was in school so it was just you alone at home– singing softly to yourself as you were finishing up with doing laundry. Neatly folding what was last of the laundry in your basket, feeling the warmth of the fresh cotton fabric between your fingers before placing it with the other piles of clothes on your bed. 

It has been two days since your confession with Jim. You did what was best for you, and you began ignoring his texts and dodged his calls. This was morally wrong and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more.

“And you know damn well..For you, I would ruin myself, A million little times..”

You sang softly as the tender melody came to an end on your phone dying down, you would glance at your phone a few times that was sitting on your nightstand, in hopes you would catch your phone displaying Jim’s name across the screen but to your disappointment it didn’t, why would it? So you can ignore it more or have a war with yourself whether you should drop the silent treatment or not?  No. At this point you would understand why he would give up at this point. 

A gentle sigh leaving your lips as your mind begins to aimlessly wander about your conflicted feelings. You want to believe that it would remain as a friendship but you knew damn well that slowly this entire time it turned more than a friendship to you. Feelings were completely one sided, he was married and he was only being kind to you because both of your daughters are friends. You were scared that harboring these feelings would become so heavy that eventually it’ll crush you and it did. You were playing with fire and you got burned.

Just as the next song on your phone began to play, a loud knock on your front door echoed throughout the house shaking you out of your thoughts. Feeling your brows knit together you walked out of your room heading towards the front door.

 Who could that be?

 You wondered as your hand gently grasped the doorknob pulling it open to reveal Jim gazing at you with a bit of desperate yet defeated expression with his phone in hand. 

It was like you were faced with a jumpscare as you felt your eyes widen and without thinking you tried to close the door on Jim but he was too quick as he managed to slip his shoe between the door leaving it ajar. “Y-Y/N, please can we talk? Please just for a second.” He said in a deep raspy tone. His voice crack manages to burn itself into your mind. 

You stood still for a moment before opening the door more widely for him to step into your house, now alone just between you and the married man you had fallen for. You took a few steps back away from him with your arms folded over your chest, your gaze not leaving his form. Once he was inside the house he closed the door behind him– “You didn’t think of picking up your phone when I called you? Or my texts?” He asked, sounding a bit tired as his piercing yet stunning ripples of ocean blue gaze bore into yours, spawning goosebumps on your skin. 

“How could I after that? So I can embarrass myself some more?” You asked with sarcasm evidently dripping from your tone as you watched Jim roll his eyes a little at your remark. “I am serious, Y/N.” He said, sounding a little more soft as he took a step towards you. 

“So am I, Jim. You’re my friend, I was stupid, I shouldn’t have said what I said, you’re married and–” You weren’t sure how much your heart could take at this moment. It was hammering so hard that it felt like it was building something, along with the backflips your stomach was doing it was becoming agonizing. 

You could feel his warmth from where you were standing as you broke away from his gaze as you turned your head away from him but only for Jim to gingerly cup your cheek turning your face back to look at him immediately putting an end to your rambles. “Hang on a second, hang on a second Y/N..” Jim said his tone was still soft, as he looked down at you his lips curled slightly down forming a frown his eyebrows knitted slightly together causing a little wrinkles to form between them. His touch was so warm you did your best not to melt into him. 

“This is so fucking mortifying Jim, you shouldn’t even be here.” You could feel your throat go dry as your eyes became misty, placing your hand over his shoulder weakly attempting to push him away but he stayed still in his spot. “Listen to me, please.” You kept your gaze down refusing to meet his gaze.

 “You’re not an idiot for telling me how you felt that day alright? Don’t think that I haven’t thought of you the same way. I have. If I didn't, I wouldn’t have told you that a compliment was meant to be more.” Jim exclaimed quietly a gentle airy dry chuckle leaving his lips as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone. You only shook your head as you used your freehand to gently pull his hand away from your cheek and it only resulted in him intertwining your fingers together. 

“You’re lying.You were just being polite.” You said your breathing became uneven, clenching your jaw slightly– you didn’t realize how you were shaking in his grasp. Jim only continued to keep you close and you couldn’t find yourself pulling away from him, your hand still in his. 

This was happening, really happening. 

“I-I, Why would I lie to you about that?” He asked in a genuine yearning tone. “Because you feel bad for me. I am a single mother alone here with no one to talk to of course you would.” You snapped suddenly feeling a little aggressive but Jim didn’t seem fazed by it. 

“That isn’t true at all, Y/N. Not even close.” You can detect the hurt and how despondent he felt in his voice, the need to prove himself to you. You remained silent as you continued averting your gaze from his and he seemed to notice it as he called out to you once more. 

“Look at me..” 

You closed your eyes for a moment, keeping your chin faintly down completely avoiding his gaze, as you knew if you looked at him you would completely succumb to him. 

“Y/N… Look at me.”  He softly implored once more. 

After a few moments, you sighed quietly and you finally complied, opening your eyes looking back up at him as he gazed down at you with a gentle expression. It was like he knew how fragile you felt in this moment. You watched at how his eyes flickered at your features to your eyes then back to your lips, causing your features to soften. 

Both of you remained silent as he gently squeezed your hand before releasing your hand, attentively, he placed your palm against his chest. You can feel his heart beating rapidly against your palm, like his heart was trying to burst free from his chest cavity. “Feel that?” Jim breathed out as he gazed down at you, keeping your palm firmly against his chest. “My heart is beating out of my chest, Y/N.. Can you feel how fast it’s going?” He asked, a bit breathless with a faint smile. 

You didn’t realize how close you two were as your faces were inches from each other, breath gently fanning against your lips–the tip of his nose gently grazing yours. “Yeah..” You only murmured now a little airy laugh slipped from your lips at how this felt like you were in a scene of a movie, but it wasn’t this was in fact real as your forehead lightly rested against his. 

Jim wasn’t lying as you could literally feel how anxious he was in your palm. His heart beating against your hand, you knew you weren’t just feeling how nervous he was. You were feeling how much he cared about you. 

How his heart was beating for you…

Feeling his dark tresses brush against your forehead, you released an inaudible shaky exhale. Your fingers curling up now grasping his shirt, his lips gently brushing against yours sending sparks throughout your being. This was all becoming too much, as it felt like Jim read your mind. “Fuck it..” He whispered as he closed the distance between you, eagerly capturing your lips with his as his fingers now rested on the side of your head keeping you still. 

That’s right.. Fuck it.

You could feel your heated skin crawl by how powerful the emotion behind his kisses. His kisses fill you with nothing but thoughts of him, you didn’t hesitate to return his kisses matching his passion. He was invading your mind, body and soul– you desperately pulled him closer. Wanting him to take everything you have, wanting his thoughts to be filled with you too as your lips moved languidly together with fervor. 

A gentle gasp left your lips as you felt his tongue swipe at your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth tasting you. A deep groan erupted from his mouth, god you loved his groans, he wanted you and he wanted to let you know that he did. The way his lips moved with yours, the sound of your breaths swallowing each other’s as your hands explored each other’s bodies leaving a firework like sensation through your clothed skin. 

It left you ravenous for more. 

“Jump..” Jim whispered against your lips, you immediately obeyed as you jumped, and instantly you felt his hands catch you. Your legs draped around his waist as his hands were under your thighs keeping you still now walking you to your room impressively without breaking the feverish kisses, tongues tangled, and hands squeezing and gripping each other. 

Jim effortlessly shoved away your neatly folded laundry off the bed before gently placing you on the mattress. Everything seemed to fade into a beautiful blur as you felt your back melt into the mattress, his body hovering over yours, as nothing else seemed to matter anymore. What only mattered was you and Jim in this moment, exploring these intense emotions that you both held for each other. Keeping your legs around his torso, diminishing the space between you two, you felt his restrained erection from his jeans as he gently grinded his hips against yours causing a moan to escape from your small frame but only to be muffled by his soft lips that were against yours. 

There was no stopping now, as you could feel the warm dampness pool in your underwear– your bodies molding together like colors on a canvas. Your hands slipped underneath his shirt feeling the movement of his back muscles moving beneath your touch. Jim then pulled away from the kiss now sitting up causing you to grunt quietly out of disapprovement wanting him to come back as he quickly discarded his ebony quarter sleeve top revealing his chest. With half lidded dazed eyes you watched as he gazed down at you with his sharp sunken ocean blue optics that were clouded with nothing but desire for you. 

Both of you were breathing heavily, aching to taste each other’s lips once more. “May I?” He asked softly as his fingers gently fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You nodded your head giving him consent to remove your white oversized t-shirt. You knew you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your shirt. You were at home, so why would you wear one? 

He swiftly removed your top, revealing your breast– the cool air nipped at your heated skin feeling your nipples turn hard from the little breeze. In a pleasurable haze you continued to watch the way his lashes fluttered against his freckled cheeks as your heaving bosom was now exposed for him to take in. His gazed burned into your skin causing you to shiver once more, watching his lust filled eyes rake down from your exposed neck to your torso. You felt so bare in front of him, it was as if your skin was translucent and he could see right through you. 

Reading your thoughts, your emotions, your heart– it made you flushed. That was another thing you adore about him, how blue his eyes were and how a simple glance from him can make you shiver. Jim then leaned back down over you but this time you felt his fingertips delicately trace your body feeling every contour of your skin,  trailing his fingertips from your abdomen to the valley of your chest to your cheek, while he was using his other arm to hold himself over you so he wouldn’t crush you completely with his weight. 

You sucked in a sharp inhale as you felt his face lean in towards you nuzzling his nose in the nape of your neck before pressing featherlike kisses on your neck. Your eyes fluttered to a close tilting your head more to the side giving him more access to your neck, your cheek resting against his palm.  Jim didn’t hesitate to nibble and kiss as much of your skin as possible leaving you breathless.

You were aching so bad for him that it began to hurt. You could feel his lips at one spot before going to another and next thing you know he was everywhere, just worshiping you with his lips. His lips trailing down to your body, going from your neck, collarbone, then to your heaving breast. “You’re so beautiful..” Jim whispered as he kissed the center of your chest where your heartbeat was. His praise causes your pussy to clench at nothing but air.

“Jim..” You whimpered out softly as you needed him. “I got you, sweetheart. Just let me enjoy this.” He murmured as he then lowered his mouth to your breast and glided his tongue across your nipple, earning a moan out of you as he covered your right breast with his mouth completely. While his other hand slipped past the waistband of your pajama shorts, into your underwear. You gasped softly at the cool sensation of his fingers feeling the slit of your wet folds. “You’re so wet, for me Y/N...” Jim chuckled quietly before moving his mouth to tend your other breast giving it the same attention. 

Patience was treading on thin ice with you, and you knew Jim was teasing you. And you damn well knew that he wasn’t lying either. Your underwear was beyond saving considering how aroused you were, seriously you swore you felt your arousal drip between your inner thighs until you felt Jim’s middle finger flick against your throbbing nub between your legs causing your body to jolt with a moan spilling from your lips. 

Jim took notice as he continued circling your clit with his finger feeling up your juices before slipping in his middle finger into your pussy with a gentle squelch noise. “Fuck Jim!” You whined softly in ecstasy feeling your head fall back deeper against the pillow your eyes still clamped shut as Jim pumped his finger in and out of you in a slow pace before building speed, his fingers curling up inside of you hitting your g spot within your warm tight wet walls. 

You felt Jim pull away from your breast before pressing his lips back onto yours muffling your moans as his tongue slipped back into your mouth mingling with yours, he then added another finger stretching you out once more causing you to whimper against his lips, as he fucked you fast and hard with his fingers despite the little room he had in your shorts and underwear.

Clearly he was preparing you and this was the only start of what was going to happen. With so much pleasure you were desperate to hold onto something, as your hands found his shoulders gripping him for dear life, the knot in your tummy beginning growing tighter, your folds fluttering shut against his fingers.

God, you have forgotten how good it felt to be touched like this, to have someone’s undivided attention on you and your pleasure alone. As the only times you had sex they would either finish too fast and leave you unsatisfied or they would make you focus on them. Not Jim, he wanted to infiltrate your thoughts with his touch, his lips– everything he possibly could and you were letting him. 

Jim then pulled his fingers out of you, quickly slipping off your shorts and underwear down to your ankles and you kicked them to the side before Jim reattached his fingertips to your clit. Swiping his fingers against your anching nub once more, he pulled away from your lips as you both breathed heavily in unison. You could feel your mind submerge into a euphoric haze feeling your climax creeping up on you. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this with you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear before nibbling your earlobe causing you to gasp softly. “M-Me too Jim..” You breathed out shuddering against his body feeling each rub from his finger sent more intense waves of pleasure to your stomach. 

Waves crashing down on you not leaving any room for thoughts as you were on the brink of reaching your climax. Jim then sank his fingers back into you to the knuckle curling them immaculately against your g spot once more with precision. And just like that you felt the knot become undone in your stomach as immense waves of pleasure ripped through you sending you over to the edge. Loud mewls escaped your lips as Jim stilled his fingers inside of you, feeling your throbbing walls clamp down on his fingers. 

You both laid there breathless for a moment as Jim pressed gentle kisses around your face while you were coming down from your high. “You okay?” He asked you softly as he placed a gentle kiss on your neck pulling his fingers out from you causing you to whimper quietly from the loss of his fingers. Weakly you nodded your head slowly catching your breath, “Jim, I want you..” you said in an airy tone as your hand reached down to his erection that was bulging from his jeans, your fingers tracing the outline evicting a sharp inhale from him.

Jim immediately obliged as he helped you pull down his pants along with his boxers allowing his cock sprung free from it’s restraints making him sigh out of relief. You couldn’t help to drool slightly at the sight of his length– how long and thick it was as it hung from his body. You weren’t sure if you wanted to taste him or have him inside of you- either way both of those thoughts were making you ache heavily with desire. 

Jesus, his wife really did hit the jackpot with this man. 

A shaky exhale left your lips as Jim gently caressed your cheek with his thumb before gently pushing you back against the mattress, his eyes fixated on you. He rose on his knees as you were now able to take in the sight of his exposed body– now his firm erection only a few inches away from your dripping entrance. “Open up your legs for me, darling.” He demanded softly with his large hands pushing your legs apart gently. His voice was deep and breathless that sent another wave of shivers throughout your body. 

Fuck, these pet names he was calling you — were going to kill you. 

Without hesitation you spread your thighs wider for him, now being completely bare and open to him. “Good girl..” Jim praised with a little smirk tugging on his lips, causing your heart to flutter. 

You were holding in your breath as you watched his hips with one gentle fluid motion he thrusted into you making you cry out loudly, your walls stretching with an intense pressure slowly filling you up only halfway in. “Are you alright? Do you want to stop?” He asked with concern as he gazed down at you; his dark graying tresses disheveled, his large hands holding your thighs keeping you still. He was so kind, it was making you melt beneath him. “I-I’m okay, keep going.” You whispered as you began to grip his shoulders once more, your nails sinking into his skin . 

“That’s my girl..” Jim praised once more as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was so hot, you never would even think Jim would have this side of him. He then shifted his knees before thrusting into you completely, his cock deeply sheathed into you. Your mouth fell open as a loud moan spilled from your lips, your eyes clamped shut once more– god, you felt so impossibly full.  Jim completely invades you as your bodies are finally connected in the best way. Your thighs squeezed against his waist but he only pushed them apart tenderly. “Ah, F-Fuck..” He groaned out shakily, as he admired the way his cock completely vanished inside of you before closing his eyes allowing his head to fall forward slightly. 

You opened your eyes as you breathed heavily, adjusting to his size– his moans making you clench around causing him to gasp. Your desire growing insatiably stronger, you rolled your hips against his desperately pulling a loud moan out of you as you felt the head of his penis kiss your cervix. A deep grunt left his lips as he leaned down towards you releasing your thighs– his chest now pressed against yours as both of his elbows were resting on either sides of your head. 

Immediately he began thrusting into you with a slow moderate pace as your body moved up and down slightly with a string of moans spilling from your lips– pleasure completely consuming your body. Jim released a breath as he managed to grab both of your hands intertwining your fingers together pinning them next to your head as his hips slammed against yours. 

You turned your head away as you whimpered loudly at how he continued hitting your cervix with perfect precision, “Y/N… Keep your eyes on me.” Jim demanded his voice dark and low. Your body shuddered as you obliged, turning your head to look at him to find him already gazing at you with half lidded eyes that were nothing but filled with affection and lust. 

Both of your gazes burned into each other as his thrusts became more relentless, making you feel like you were on cloud nine of pleasure and ecstasy. Jim groaned as he felt your walls clamp around him tight not wanting to let him go– nevertheless he didn’t ease his hard and fast pace. All that was heard in your bedroom was the sound of wet bodies clashing together, as his cock brushed against your clit causing you to arch your back, your chest melting into his, your hands squeezing his. “S-Shit, you feel so good, Jim..” You mewled as your bodies continued moving together in sync. 

The friction between you made you burn with desire. “You feel even better, Y-Y/N..Fuck..” He gasped out as his face scrunched up slightly at how tight you were, his mouth hanging slightly open as heavy breaths escaped his parted lips as he aimed to make you come first. You could feel yourself slipping, getting lost in Jim, truly no other thoughts that weren’t anything else but him.

 You then wrapped your legs around his hips causing him to sink deeper into you making you both moan out loud in unison, the familiar coil in your stomach began to form knowing you were about to reach your climax for the second time as your heavy breathing began to become unsteady.

Jim then pressed his lips against yours in an eager open mouthed kiss, like he knew you were close and he continued plunging himself deeply into you as he was getting close to his own climax as well.  

“I-I’m close..” You breathlessly stammered against his lips as his teeth sank down at your bottom lip before pulling away and releasing it. “Come for me, sweetheart.” Jim whispered as he watched you tremble against his body squeezing his hands tightly as your body was pressed deeper into the mattress. You then cried out as your body arched against him, you felt the knot in your stomach finally snap as your climax washed over you with the familiar waves of pleasure.

Frail moans left your lips as Jim quickened his pace as he used your limp body to chase his climax before releasing a loud groan, his hips stuttering slightly before being buried deep inside of you as he ejaculated his semen, staining your walls.

Jim stayed still for a second  trying to catch his breath before slowly pulling out of you causing you to whimper softly as he collapsed on top of you, his head resting against your chest, both of your naked bodies lightly coated with sweat. Your head was spinning, your mind completely lost in a fog as you both basked in the afterglow of this moment. 

Once your breathing became steady again as you slowly came down from your high you felt Jim roll off of you as he laid next to you leaving you still laying on your back as you two went silent.

Even the silence felt so loud.

He then pulled the comforters over your naked bodies as he laid on his side facing you. You could feel his gaze burn into the side of your face as you kept your eyes on the ceiling finally processing what just happened. 

“Hey..” Jim called out to you quietly as he scooted closer to you draping his lightly freckled arm around your body pulling you close as you turned to face him on your side, you can tell that he hated when things go quiet like this.

Your little panic gaze burned into his, and he already knew how you were feeling. “Y/N..Talk to me.” Jim begged as he gently cradled your cheek with his palm which you instinctively melted into.

You sighed deeply into his touch, your mind unsure if having sex even fixed anything between you two, if anything it added more fuel to the fire of your problems. 

And this is where you knew that you messed up..

Big time. 

***

PART 2 COMING SOON ;)

I hope you guys enjoyed it ! First one shot for this page. And honestly this is the first smut I’ve ever written so I hope I did Jim Justice but bro was so romantic. I apologize for any grammar error or anything that looks weird- But anyways, thank you guys for reading! ♡

[virginburial]

more sub chad pls🙏 your work is brilliant

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he's just so pretty too :,)

Chad Meeks Martin CD mix!            .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

sub!chad and you have been placing bets on who can last the longest during sex. now seemingly switch!chad has been cranking up his arrogance to one hundred; "I'm going to make you cum all over yourself, it's embarrassing." he would mumble to you throughout the day to rile you up. it's kind of charming to see sub!chad try to pass as dominant, but you knew the truth that deep down, chad meeks martin was an over-zealous needy sub who talked too much. the bet was brought up again, which led to more flirting, then kissing, then foreplay, and so on.

sub!chad almost had you beat with how well he was kissing down your body, but you knew he was worshipping you more than using you. poor sub!chad had no idea how much porn you watched to prepare yourself for this. after five or so minutes of just kissing and dry humping, you begin to palm him, and it pulled sub!chad off his high horse and into the trenches of submission. next thing he knew, he was under you, looking up at you with mercy. "Angel-" he softly whimpers.

you slowly glide the Fleshlight (you bought specifically for this, you can thank the hub for inspiring your recent purchase) down his stiff and lubricated cock. after all the palming, sub!Chad got desperate and whipped his cock out. you started to tease him for trying to rush you and it turned into this: "mhmfuck, mommy?" his breath shakes, slowly resting his body on his elbows, his jaw slacked from all the pleasure as his deep eyes stare into yours. "y-you're fucking killing m-me over here." he huskily breathes out.

you let out a soft hum, slowly sliding the fleshlight up and running it around his tip as he lets out a low moan. "awh, so much for making me cum all over myself, huh?" you taunt him. A smile appeared on his face as he realized that he was the one that got himself in this predicament. "cmon baby...I-i just like-like to t-tease you un-until you do some-something about it-" "-I am, and you can't even say a complete sentence without stuttering...how embarrassing." you jab before picking up the pace.

a gasp leaves him with a series of curses and swears under his breath. "fuck-shit okay! I'm sorry-" "-mhm, not good enough." you flick your wrist a bit faster. you could see how pleasure transformed sub!Chad, how his muscles tensed up and his pupils dilated with passion, how his back arched slightly at how well you were winding him up. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry-!!" he whines out as his breathing got heavier and heavier.

"are you?"

he nods. "y-yes!! yes, I'm so-sorry mommy, I just wan-wanted you to-to touch me-j-just give me the-the real thing please!!" he pleaded.

and you laughed. "mhm, try not to cum." you respond, seeing if he could actually last longer; this could easily make you twenty bucks richer. you start rocking your hips as the fleshlight bounced with you, you could feel sub!Chad tremble under you as more of his repressed moans start to slip out. it didn't take long for him to embarrassingly cum all over himself. his cum running down his shaft and staining his jeans as he cries out for you, whining at how you're milking him and overstimulating him. that'll teach him not to put money where his mouth is.

          .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[virginburial]

can you write sth about ethan x reader where she gives him his first blowjob as a thank you for tutoring her? like she’s flirting with him all the time and he stares at her a lot so she suggests it and he’s so nervous but agrees

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ virgin Ethan getting head? sigh, I'm so touch starved and lonely I need another boyfriend (chad meeks martin).

Ethan Landry CD mix!       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

"I only needed this class 'cus it's a prerequisite for the program I'm going into, but I think I truly got it now." you beam from ear to ear. Ethan and you were studying together since your entire friend group decided to take statistics together. now, it was thirty minutes until the library shuts for the day and the study group ended hours ago. Ethan was kind enough to explain graphs for two hours to you, but you couldn't help but feel his eyes burn into yours, or stare directly into your chest before he pretends to look at the ground.

you weren't oblivious to how much Ethan stared at your cleavage, or how much he stared at you in general. so you decided to toy with him a little. "thanks so much for the help, Landry. I know I wasted your evening-" "-no, don't mention it, y/n." he softly smiled. "it's the least I can do, if one of us fails, all of us fail." he chirped.

"How can I make it up to you?"

"maybe by passing stats."

you giggle softly, seeing his smile widen as your hand slowly goes to his knees. "I meant more like...how can I make it up to you now?" you bat your lashes. seeing blush spread across his cheeks and onto the tips of his ears told you everything you needed to know. it took a few questions; "what if someone sees us-?" "-the library is closing soon." "do you like me-?" "-I dunno, do you like me?" "This is not how I imagined this going-" "-awh, you imagined it?" it was a small back and forth that resulted in you dropping on your knees, going under the table, and palming a nervous Ethan, who was relaxing into your touch but shaking with anxiety.

you were losing time, seeing the clock's hands move closer and closer to the closing time as you stripped Ethan of his pants; having them cuffed around his ankles. he was nervously looking around, looking out for nosy librarians and unsuspecting bookworms as you slowly slip his cock out from his boxers. the skin on skin contact made him gasp, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked under the table. "oh fuck..." he softly whimpered out as his hand snuck down to your wrist, trying to control the pace.

your lips grazed his tip before sucking him down, and his reaction to everything made you so wet. he was so innocent when it came to these kinds of things, you wondered if this was his first blowjob. his breathing was so heavy but quiet, and his thighs tensed up with pleasure as he grabbed a chunk of your hair. soft moans crept from the cracks in his hands as he forced himself quiet. "t-this feels so-so good...you feel s-so good..." he mumbles softly as his cheeks turned a deeper shade of red.

your eyes looked up at him with lust as his cock twitched against your tongue. he was so sensitive, his chest starting to rise up and doing as you moved your lips against his shaft. you could see him sliding down the chair, unintentionally stuffing more and more of his cock in your mouth as saliva hit the carpet under the both of you. "such a sweet thing, using your pretty little lips like that..." he huffed out in a whisper, accidentally letting out a soft moan (before hearing a SHHHH from across the library cus lol)

his tip was starting to hit the back of your throat, seeing his hips jerk and small whimpers spill out of him like water. there was no point in hiding how good you were making him feel, he couldn't help the amount of pleasure he was feeling. "m-more..." he croaked out as a faint whine left him. if he wasn't looking so damn cute, pretending he was reading Webster's Dictionary, then maybe you could've pulled away for a quick kiss; instead, you picked up the pace.

Ethan melted more and more, a small hiss left him as he started bucking his hips uncontrollably (he was so lucky the library was practically empty because he looked like he was seizing up in his seat). his heavy breaths began to pollute the air as he shuddered, his jaw slacked from pleasure as his cock started jamming into your tight throat. you, the perfect angle you are, sucking your cheeks and feeling the back of your throat tighten from pressure, as a loud, low, sorta-growl-of-a-moan came out of him. cum runs down your throat as a shaky sigh leaves him speechless, he looks so damn cute blushing over how you violently sucked him off in the library. he wasn't expecting it to be so satisfying.

"fuck...I gotta tutor you more..."

     .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[virginburial]

is the deadly class fandom dead as shit? yes. will I write Marcus Lopez Arguello blurb/fics anyways? also yes.

[virginburial]

hi!! sorry if this doesn’t come across correctly, i’ve never requested anything before. if it’s alright, can you write a steve harrington x reader blurb that’s him showing her how to give a blowjob? sorry again if that’s too weird, thanks!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ nothing is too weird for the buffmeiester (it's me, I'm the buffmeiester, lol hi I'm buffy).

Steve Harrington CD mix!        .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

you were half a virgin. I know I know, that makes zero sense, but you were. you only had sex once and you don't think it should count. when steve found out, he pretty much laughed at how stupid the terminology was. "what does it even mean to be half of a virgin?" he panted out after laughing hysterically. the reason you wouldn't count the last encounter as your defloweration was because there was no foreplay, no oral, or hand anything. pretty fucking boring.

Steve thought the same. you don't know how you both reached this conclusion but soon you started making bets that turned rather personal. Steve had generously offered to show you how to give someone a blow job since you claimed that if someone taught you, you wouldn't feel so insecure about how you performed. you were hesitant at first, but then you remembered how Steve was your first kiss back in middle school, and the two of you were still friends. you had faith that nothing was going to change.

yet, things were weird at first. you've seen Steve naked before (on accident, or when you both are changing to go swimming) it was never weird like that. this time, you couldn't help but feel a pang of awkwardness settle in your stomach, considering you were on your knees right in front of him. "okay so, you're gonna want to slowly jack off the guy, right, make sure he's-" "-hard? yeah steve, I know." you mumbled as your hands snatch steve's cock away from him.

"j-just wanted to be sure you knew." Steve breathes out, watching your hand slowly work up and down the base of his cock. you couldn't help but feel it harden and twitch in your hands, seeing Steve's mouth slowly open as he glances over at you; the look on your face as you contemplated what to do next. "don't like shove it in your mouth, you have to tease the tip before going all in."

"Like...this?" you ask, before slowly running your tongue across his tip, softly pressing down and making your tongue adjust to the bell of his tip, how pink and pulsating it was already. "y-yeah." Steve squeaked out, repressing his moans as his cheeks turned red. "like that...you sure you need me to teach you how to do this?" he nervously laughed.

the more you teased his tip, the more and more Steve began to unwind and become more vocal, soon you started working towards his base and played with his balls (which you laughed about, not at him, just at the idea of it, which made Steve beyond flustered). before you knew it, you couldn't help but feel yourself get excited at the thought of Steve returning the favor; squeezing your thighs as the sensation of pleasure drove you to show Steve how good of a teacher it was. "it will never be weird between us" but you always assumed that was going to be a problem on Steve's side of things. not yours.

Steve was past the point of pretending that he offered this as a friend, that this was all a nice gesture. five minutes into the whole thing, Steve caves, and starts calling you pet names; baby, honey, sweetie, princess. It all starts going to your head, then straight to your cunt as things progressed. then, Steve yanks your hair, pulling you back from his cock, saliva drooling down your chin as your lips shimmered; your lip gloss managed to stay on. He makes you look up at him.

"Relax your neck, baby." he coos, his cock hitting your cheek. you could feel his whole 'king steve' persona shine through when he tells you that. before slowly directing your head back on his cock, his hips start to jerk a little once your lips reattached themselves back onto his cock. he maneuvers your head as he starts fucking your throat, your face turning red as spit coaxed your cheeks and chin. tears reached the rims of your eyes as he groans loudly. "take me just like that honey-" he growled as you stared up at him in a daze. "you're such a faster learner, huh?" he raspily said.

before you knew it, Steve cums down your throat, causing you to lightly gag as he slowly pulls out. cum slowly seeping out of your lips as you tried to swallow it all. you didn't think he'd cum so much. he breathes heavily pulling you away from his cock.

"mhm...I think I just fixed your 'half-virgin' problem."

       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[virginburial]

hi! could i request something with ethan x fem!reader (or gn, whichever makes you the most comfortable :)) where reader is this really like, wealthy kid at blackmore who’s part of the core four (but since she’s in it… maybe fab five? idk 😭 i suck at this) and she’s dating ethan and just loves to spoil him? i’m assuming he’s like a broke college student, and the whole group kinda jokes that’s she’s his sugar mommy lmao. if you’re not up for it, feel free to ignore this request! i love your work <3 can’t wait to read more of your writing, thank you so so much for sharing it with us!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I so clearly saw Gossip Girl in my head I'm dead x-x but let me break down why this would absolutely work on Ethan

Ethan Landry CD mix!       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

especially since I'm getting an old money-great Gatsby feel out of it, your family probably owns a company that's been around for generations, one of those Rockefeller/Vanderbilt types. the kind of family HBO writes hit dramas about. You weren't snobby about it but still carried yourself differently than all your peers (you knew you were hot shit). So when regular-schmegular middle-class suburban boy next door Ethan catches your eye, it is a shock to everyone, especially him.

Ethan barely had a job and was living off of loans, like everyone else. you noticed this when he nervously asked you out to Olive Garden and ate nothing but the free breadsticks and some soda. you felt bad; you could tell he wanted to impress you.

so you started bringing him coffee every time you walk to class together; "I can't hold your books and the coffee y/n-" "-just take the fucking latte, Ethan!" he was too humble to take your offerings, but soon, as your romantic relationship with him evolved, so did his acceptingness and gratitude. You two would go to the mall and whatever Ethan stared at for more than five seconds would be coming home with you. other times, you'd door-dash him food whenever he studied for hours on end, because you knew Ethan had the habit of focusing too much on his studies and forgetting to eat.

"dude! she's totally your sugar mommy." Chad would tease, or Mindy and Anika would comment about asking you for permission before he does anything; "Don't you need your momma's blessing before you do that?" It's a little annoying, but Ethan knows the truth; you loved to spoil him, and he loved being spoiled by you. you loved seeing how excited he gets over a pair of sneakers or some dinner, and he loved knowing that the person he loves thinks about him and what he liked. you're abundant, and you felt it was important to share that abundance with the ones you loved. speaking of, your relationship with Ethan reached a point where he was offered an internship within your family's business; which lead to the both of you heading back to the mall, helping Ethan pick which suit he should wear to the interview.

and, of course, Ethan is on his knees, eating you out in the dressing room because he is just so grateful. getting stains all over his button-up as your juices drip down his chin and run down his neck. whatever, you were going to buy it for him anyways.

       .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ >⸝ ა

[virginburial]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Ethan Landry's lullaby

⋆· ༘ * reader is Ethan's sugar mommy and loves to spoil him! ⋆· ༘ * reader is giving virgin!ethan is first blowjob!

[virginburial]

hi buffy! do you know if the creators of the bots for those character ai thingy’s have access to the convos we have with the characters? i really wanted to try out the app but i’m terrified of it being an actual person instead of a bot lmao 😭

hi anon! based on what I know, the only people who can read the convo between you and another bot are the moderators of the app, not the creators of the bots themselves.