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[god-has-entered-my-body]

lenaaaaaa god help me I’m so high rn I’m thinking about mpind matty pole dancing ans also giving girlie a lap dance fhis isnt good or my health I think

dont be shy pass the spliff

also mpind comeback after a bunch of wank everyone be happy x

Love me - Matty Healy

A/N: bit wanky, barely spell checked except for @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff 's weird sim reactions to whatever i write. Legend anon i hope this is filthy enough for you my love xx

wc: 4.5k

content warnings: smut, fluff, tw: my shitty comedy, handjobs, strip clubs, its george's birthday!!, begging, teasing, lap dance, matty in lingerie pt. 43, mentions of alcohol, lots of swearing, cumplay, grinding, it gets a bit sappy guys soz, sub!Matty

“A strip club? Are you never scared of being a cliché?” you scoff as the venue comes into view, strobing neon flashing in your face. The summer night is warm, a breeze kissing your skin as the gravel crackles under your feet, your quite high heels still not making you taller than George. 

His birthday, the big one eight, was today, and his chosen place was of course, a local strip club.

“If that cliché is seeing half naked girls, no.” he sniggers, Matty’s bickering with Ross and Hann faintly heard behind you. You hook your arm into his as you approach the bouncer, the line surprisingly short. 

“I forget you're an actual man sometimes.��

“How can you possibly forget?!” he lets go, flexing his muscles at you as some sort of display of masculinity, making you giggle behind your hand.

Matty takes this ample opportunity to swoop in from behind, pressing the side of his body up against yours. The four of you watch George proudly present his real I.D to the bouncer, a wide smile on his face as he takes it from him. The bloke gives him a weird once-over, waving him and the rest through without a hitch. 

It's bright inside, but not in the way you would assume. Different colored lights strobe around, switching every 20 seconds or so, the heavy bass of the music thrumming through your veins. Matty hangs on your arm as you look around, George immediately booking it to a booth with a stage as the table, wanting the best front row seat to the show. You roll your eyes at his eagerness, but then again, who could blame him? 

Everyone files into the booth, George ending up wedged in the corner of the seating, uncomfortable but glass he could stretch his legs out under the table. 

“Round of pints on me, happy birthday G. '' Everyone cheers, excluding Hann, who glares at Matty from across the table.

“Oh so now you have money? What about last week?” Ross lets out a quiet snigger, liking this turn of events. 

“Shut up you cunt, it's G’s birthday! Lighten up a bit, old man.” 

“Matty when I get my fucking hands on you-” Ross to the rescue, he presses a hand to his mate’s chest, keeping him seated. 

“Alright girls, break it up.” he gives up, mouthing a curt ‘fuck you’ at Matty, rolling his eyes. 

The waitress returns from the bar, bringing a platter of glasses with her. She sets them down, smiling at you before walking away, the neon lights of the club making her eyes shimmer. 

“Cheers, happy 18th mate.” Matty plants a wet kiss on George’s face, making him squirm away in disgust. 

“Get off you grade A wanker, your girl’s right there.” You blow him a kiss as Matty turns to you, licking a fat stripe up the side of your face, from your jaw to your cheekbone. Everyone at the table groans at his odd display of affection, Ross dramatically shielding his eyes and muttering incoherently as Matty finally sits back down, downing the rest of his pint. 

Sure enough, right in the middle of Hann’s interesting story about his last date, a dancer comes over to the table. She climbs up, eyeing George, twirling around the pole a few times before doing this flip you didn't even know was humanly possible. The bralette she’s wearing glimmers in the light, reflecting off and into your eyes, distracting you.  

George stares blatantly, eyes raking up and down her body as she dances, not letting her leave his line of sight. It's so obvious and she smirks at him, turning her body to face his direction before bending over, exposing her cleavage even more.  

“Don't be a knob.” you hiss, not wanting to seem rude.

“She’s fit and it's quite literally her job!” a small laugh escapes the woman as she goes to speak, flattered at the exchange. 

“It’s alright love, look all you want.” 

“See!” George shouts a bit too loudly, proud of his correctness in strip club etiquette.

You sigh, nodding at her as Matty pokes your side. 

“She is fit.” you whisper quietly, gesturing to her. Matty perks up, shoving you in offense.

“I'm fitter, don't forget.” you giggle at the statement, refusing to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him.  

“She’s literally sparkling, I need to know what brand that is.” The rhinestone adorned lingerie set she was wearing captivated everyone at the table, hugging her curves in all the right places.  

“Who’s to say I'm not either?” your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but you brush him off.

“Shut it, don't be a tosser.” his hand grips yours right before he speaks, bringing it down to the waistband of his jeans. “I’m not.”

He uses your fingers to pull it down about an inch, revealing a pretty string of purple under his bottoms. Your breath hitches at the realization, eyes snapping up to meet his. Was he serious? Now?

“It’s George’s birthday.” you state, voice hushed so the others could overhear your conversation. Hann was already off to buy another round, leaving Ross and George to make ‘friendly’ conversation with the dancer, shamelessly staring at her tits the entire time. “He won't mind, just look at him.” 

Sure enough, George is ogling the dancer, lips parted and being such a boy it hurts. She’s clearly enjoying the attention as he leans forward, stuffing a wad of cash into the flimsy waistband of her thong, smirking. 

“He’s already imagining a future with her, look!”

She sets a paper crown on his head with the words ‘birthday boy’ on it, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. A boyish blush spreads onto George’s face as her kiss leaves a mark of lipstick, Ross quickly snapping a photo of him to take the piss when they left.   

“He desperately needs a lay, it's sad.” you comment, knowing it had been ages since his last girlfriend or even hookup, too focused on his coursework and music to go out more than the few times you forced him to. 

“So do I, so I'd prefer it if we didn't drag this out.” 

Matty gets up, climbing over you despite your quite loud protests, announcing his trip to the dance floor. You wait a few moments before following him, the sway of his hips and faint back muscles under his mesh shirt flexing as he walks, convincing you to just go with it, hoping whatever he had planned wasn't totally scandalous and wouldn't get you kicked out of the place. 

He turns right past the dance floor, leading you into a narrow corridor off to the side. You catch up to him, close behind him as he slips a dancer some cash, nodding as he makes his way to the door at the end of the hall. Matty rushes in before you, the door almost slamming in your face. ‘Private room’ flashes back at you in yellow neon, making you raise your eyebrows.

The room is dark for the first few seconds as you hear Matty shuffling. Suddenly, the room lights up, giant mirrors covering the walls and ceiling, reflecting the light back and forth. You glance around, eyes landing on Matty. 

A tall pole is the centerpiece of the room, pink metal running from the floor to the ceiling. Matty leans on it, left hand wrapping around it as he spins, smirking at you as you watch him, something stirring inside of you. 

“Did you plan this?” you ask, a skeptical look on your face.

“Maybe.” his fingers run up his chest, playing with his nipples right in front of you. His voice drips with lust, coating your mind with only a few words, making it difficult to get even semi-coherent sentences out.

“Jesus, you're mental.” you gasp softly as he moves, fluid and sure, captivating you with every change of direction.

“But you love me, now sit.” you listen, not knowing what else you were meant to do in this situation. The chair is soft, cushions letting you settle in comfortably. 

“Everything is so pink.” you mutter, gesturing to the mirror frames and pole, every surface some variation of the same color.

“Sort of the point, yeah? To set the mood.” he smirks, trailing his hands up his waist, letting his nails graze against his skin, mimicking the same thing you do to him. “Mood for what?”

“You’ll see, be patient.” you roll your eyes at his words, the palms of your hands rubbing against the soft pillow of your chair. “That's rich.” 

“Please, for me?” He sounds so sweet, like he was asking you to bring him a glass of water, not to stay still while he touched himself in front of you. 

“We both know I can't deny you.” 

“How true.” he sucks in a deep breath, throwing his head back as he holds eye contact. 

“Watch.” 

“What do I-?” you stutter over your words, your heart beating rapidly against your chest as he feels himself up, fingers ghosting over his tattoos.

“Me, keep your eyes on me.”

He turns his attention back to the pole next to him, strutting around it as the music from the dancefloor dictates his movements, his back pressed to the cool metal. Matty parts his lips as he slides down it, running a hand over his chest performatively, watching your every reaction. 

Your breathing becomes more shallow as he moves, thousands of fantasies running through your mind. He knows the effect he has on you, everything he does is purely to rile you up, make you lose your composure. 

“You’re mad, this is-” he cuts you off with a sly smile.

“Incredibly hot? I’d rather you enjoy the show than talk over it.” you scrunch up your face at the implication that this was a performance, even if you did expect nothing less from Matty. 

“Show?”

He runs a hand through his slightly messed up hair, showing off his neck as you stare at him, biting your lip between your teeth to keep from embarrassing yourself. 

“I hate you.” you mumble as the music changes, some hip-hop song coming on. The faint cheers of the people outside are barely audible, but it serves to remind of just where you were. The guys were still at the table, most likely speculating the reason as to why the two of you have been missing that long, Ross surely already making crude comments that neither Hann nor George wanted to think about.

“You won't if you just wait.” you grip the edge of your seat, blushing profusely as he struts over to you, wrapping his arms around your neck. His breath is hot against your neck, leaning over you as he settles into your lap. You finally clock it.  

“Stay still.” he ‘orders’, attempting to mimic the way you speak to him when he doesn't listen.

“Are you giving me a lap dance?” he frowns at you, shaking his head in disappointment. A chuckle escapes you as the reality of the situation dawns on you. 

“No need to define it darling, let it be abstract.” of course he’d say something like that, try to salvage the ‘artistic’ affair, failing miserably. 

“You’re giving me a fucking lapdance, christ.” it's genuinely amusing. Your heart swells up at the thought of all the effort that went into this. Paying off the dancer with god only knows how much money, turning you on at the table just enough so you’d follow him, and probably even setting up the lighting in the room himself. 

“You're such a bore, let me have my fun.” he kisses you, giggling into your mouth. His lips are warm against yours, your lip gloss rubbing off on him. “Oh, I will.” you promise, letting your hands fall limp as he grips your shoulders, rocking his hips back and forth. His movements are exact, practiced even as he grinds down onto you before lifting his body back up, bringing his hip tattoo up to eye level. 

You don't think, mind clouded with desire and want. His shirt had ridden up a bit, and your rough tongue drags across the inked skin, warm against it as he shudders, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sensation. 

“No touching the dancers” he tuts, coming back down on top of you.

“I’m exempt from that rule.” you say, your voice surprisingly steady despite the white hot heat pooling between your legs.

“According to whom?” 

“You.”

You let your hands settle onto his waist, gripping him so hard you were sure there’d be bruises the next day.

“Fuckk, yeah okay,” he groans, the pressure on the front of his jeans increasing as all the blood in his head rushes south, his mind hazy. 

“C’mon baby, finish your little performance.”

He moves to get off, smirking as you let him. You can see indents in his skin where you grabbed him, the sight making your breath hitch. He circles around you like a predator does his prey, wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

His hands trail up your chest, fingers grazing over your exposed collarbones. Your skin flushes under his touch and you let out a soft moan at the feeling, earning a proud smile from Matty. 

“You’re so gorgeous. I have to force myself to not get hard whenever you look at me.” his voice is sultry against your ear, making goosebumps bloom on the skin of your neck. “Oh, way to exaggerate.” you snigger, not quite believing him. 

“Honest truth.” he swears, instinctively doing the ‘scouts honor’ sign with his hand. 

You snort, your little giggling fit interrupted by his mouth trailing sickly sweet kisses up your neck and to your jaw.

It doesn't take him long to make his way back around, your heart skipping a beat when he comes back into view. His chest is glistening with sweat, the warm temperature of the room clearly getting to him. Most notably, you notice the front of his jeans is unbuttoned and unzipped, flaring out on both sides, revealing almost the entirety of the silky, purple panties he had chosen to wear. 

He relishes in your reaction, the attention making his ego grow exponentially as he moves back into your lap. Your hands trail up his chest, doing your best to not immediately pay attention to the underwear. You can't resist, though. 

“These are new.” you toy with the thin straps, silk reflecting the colored light beautifully. You can see a note of pride ripple through him as you admire the material, grazing his cock through it.

“Got them just for you, you like?” The question is so obviously rhetorical. Of course you like, no, love them. “So much.” your words are laced with love, soft and appreciative of all the effort he puts into getting you off, fulfilling your fantasy.

The way he looks at you is sinful, thoughts dancing behind his eyes visible as he stares, waiting for your next move.

He lets out a soft groan when you push him down into your thigh, biting his lip at you provocatively. “You're hard.” you smile as you say the words, his gaze softening when he sees the blissed out look at your face, eyes raking over his body. Even (almost) fully clothed, he was absolutely beautiful. 

“See? Wasn't lying.” he presses a kiss behind your left ear, gently moving your hair out of the way. It’s loving, so honest. “You sure it's not because of the mirror behind me?” you still cant help but tease him, gesturing to the giant mirror your back was facing. He blushes in response, stealing a glance at his reflection. 

“You’re so cruel! I’ll just stop then, seeing as all you see me as is some egotistical deviant.” he threatens, crossing his arms over his chest in retaliation. You bring a hand up to cup his face, stroking his cheek softly, almost patronizing. Your mind swims with the power you have over him. 

“You wont stop, you couldn't if you tried.” For the first time that evening, you call his bluff, the way he reacts to you exquisite as his lips part, no words coming out. Silence fills the room, even the music on the other side of the door seeming to die down. How long have the two of you been here?

“Am i right?” you question, not letting him off the hook like you usually would.  

“..yeah–” his words are small, and you know you have him right where you want him. The lightest, slightest touch could send him hurtling over the edge, his hips rutting desperately into your hand as you palm him through his underwear.

“So pretty for me, doing all of this. Thank you baby.” you whisper into his ear as he gasps under your touch. It's so incredibly intimate that you can't help but drop your facade for a few seconds, kissing him sweetly, his lips moving against yours with desperation.  

“Anything for you.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm.”

You take his cock out of the confines of his underwear, a sigh of relief falling from his parted lips as your fingers ghost over the tip, teasing him. 

“Just stay still, let me make you feel good.” you murmur, feeling him up under his shirt, your nails digging into the skin of his back. He shifts on top of you, his body yearning for your touch.

“Please.”

You reach down to wrap your manicured fingers around his cock, the sight of the pretty colors of your nails around him making his eyes roll back in his head, his mind spinning with all sorts of possibilities, mostly focused on not finishing right in that moment. 

Tugging lazily on his cock, you drag your fingers from the base to the tip, a satisfying whimper spilling from Matty’s lips, the sound spreading through your entire body. His back arches against you and the kiss he presses against your mouth tastes like the cigarettes he chainsmoked on the way to the club, mixing deliciously with the hint of alcohol on his breath. 

“Let go for me, feel it.”

He trembles, the noise he lets out is desperate, filthy, shooting straight to your core. Everything is heightened. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he leans forward into you, chest pressing against yours as you run your fist up and down his cock, small whimpers of pleasure spurring you on. 

“Fuckk, that feels so good–” 

Matty’s words are choked, his effort to hold back a bit obvious. He’s hungry, wanting, evident in the way he ruts into your hand, his fingers digging into the skin of your shoulders, the sharp pain making you sigh, pleased. 

“Be nice and loud for me, let me hear you.” you coo into his ear, your free hand dragging up his back under his shirt, the mesh bunching up. “So good to me, treat me so well, god– shit.”

He twitches as you dig your thumb into his slit, a shiver spreading through his body 

The way he’s not even undressed is obscene, the fabric of his jeans gathering under his hips as he’s perched on top of you, feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. You watch him, engrossed in pleasure, completely blissed out expression on his face. His head is thrown back, exposing his pale neck, faded hickeys and marks still visible from your last encounter. 

“You're staring” he breathes, your eyes snapping up to meet him. A filthy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, your focus on him and only him. His hair falls over his face, obscuring it slightly, much to your disdain.  

“You're giving me reason to” you brush curls out of his face as your movements still, letting him speak properly, uninterrupted. 

“Yeah, I want you to look at me.”

You smile lovingly, cocking your head slightly to the left as you tease him, one of your fingers twirling his hair. 

“Gets you off, my attention?” he doesn't even try to deny it, knowing it wouldn't get him anywhere. 

“Mhm-m” he nods, panting. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, silently begging you to continue.

His hips stutter as you grip his cock tighter, your other hand stroking his face sweetly as you stare into each other's eyes, his face flush as pornographic moans spill from his lips. His back arches again, your bodies pressed against each other as your hand snakes between the two of you.

“F-fuck, i’m so close, please let me cum, please.” His voice is high-pitched and whiny, tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“You beg so nicely, let me hear you baby.” you whisper words of encouragement as his hips buck up into your hand involuntarily, every ounce of self control in him dissipating. 

“I need it so bad, please i've been so good for you.”

He hiccups in a way that almost makes you feel bad, his desperation so obvious. You speed up a bit, just a bit, giving him that sweet, sweet relief he’s been begging for for god knows how long now.

“P-please, oh fuck, yesyesyes fuck.” precum bubbles at the tip of his cock, and you smear it down, coating him in his own arousal. It's unbelievably hot, his entire body twitching at the sight of your fingers on his cock, a sight he desperately tries to commit to memory. 

“You’re leaking all over my hand darling, so filthy.” he whines into your neck, and you lick across his jaw, making him shiver

“Make a mess, c’mon, come for me.” an animalistic groan fills your ears as he rapidly approaches his orgasm, writhing under your touch.

“Y-yeah– fuck thats so good, your hand feels so good, fucking made for me.”

Matty’s possessive nature made your head spin with lust, his eyeliner smudging down his face as he stares into your eyes with such an intensity it felt like he was going to consume you.

His skin glows under the soft pink lighting, making him seem ethereal, like a true angel. His noises are like music to your ears as he spills into your hand, spurts of cum coating your bare stomach, barely missing your (quite expensive) cropped shirt. Matty kisses you immediately after, hands threading through your hair as he drinks you in, stealing your breath straight from your lungs. 

Wordlessly, one of his hands moves down, gathering the remnants of his orgasm onto two fingers, tapping your mouth with the other. You indulge him, parting your lips to let him push his digits past them, the salty taste of him taking over your senses. His pupils are completely blown out in desire, not able to process what was happening in front of him, a loopy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart swell up with love 

“Perfect.” he mumbles as you lick his fingers clean, smiling mischievously at his dazed gaze. Matty pulls you in, holding you close, desperate to not let go.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Where were you two?” Ross’s voice is accusatory as the two of you finally return to the booth, the dancer from before having already left. A faint blush spreads onto your cheeks as the memories of not 20 minutes go flash through your mind. Hann doesn't help your situation at all.

“Probably shagging, just look at him.” your head turns, seeing Matty’s blissed out expression, a content smile replacing his usual nasty grin. You elbow him in the ribs, a silent plea to say something, but he promptly ignores your silent begging. 

“Shut up you dickhead, you don't know shit.” 

George points at Matty, now grinning wildly, reminiscing about the events of tonight. He’s oddly calm, which would be concerning if it wasn't for the monstrous case of post-sex hair he currently had 

“Jesus, what did you even do to him?” George is taking the absolute piss out of you, and for good enough reason. 

“I don't kiss and tell.” you attempt to change the conversation topic as you settle back into the booth, commenting on the pint glasses. You're ignored in favor of laughing at you further while matty remains completely unbothered, the glow he emitted so fucking obvious it hurt.  

“Well he sure does, I've heard much more than necessary.” Ross sniggers, pulling a face at the not-so-distant memory of Matty’s sex bonfire-storytelling session that had happened a few weeks prior (not at an actual bonfire, but on the floor of your living room, completely pissed while you were out with your girlfriends.)

“Did you at least wash your hands?” Hann asks, the question directed at Matty, whose hands were loosely wrapped around his nearly empty pint glass. 

“Didn't have to.” he grins, waving his hands in Adam’s face proudly, like it was some sort of achievement. 

“Oh fucking hell, too much info.” George groans, cupping his face in his hands at the mental image of what he thought had just happened. You laugh inwardly, the whole situation absurd. This was the furthest you had ever gotten in discussing anything relating to your relationship with Matty, and it honestly felt weird.

“I’m never touching you again mate, no fucking way.” Ross stated, a disgusted look on his face. “Awwe Ross, how will you do without my touch?” You make grabby hands at him, climbing over George to drape yourself over the booth, touching his hair and face, Matty’s and Hann’s hysterical laughter spurring you on. “GET OFF ME!!” he yells, clawing at you to push you away, absolutely mortified. 

George, slightly more pissed than the rest of you, announces his mission to get the dancers number, swearing up and down that “She had this look in her eye, i’m so fucking serious.” he manages to stumble over his shoes about three times before finally standing up straight, brushing off any ‘dust’ (crisps) that clung to his raggedy band tee. 

“Good luck mate, not that you need it.” Hann tries to be encouraging, knowing just as well as the rest of you how George got when he had a few too many pints. Terribly emotional and impulsive, there was no stopping him once he had his sights set on something, or in this case, someone.

“I definitely don't” he glares at you over his shoulder, strutting across the dance floor in direction of where he’d last seen her. 

As he walks away, Ross sniggers.

“He definitely does.” and you can't help but giggle along as he trips over a stray stair, falling right onto his face. Hann goes to help him up, ignoring your collective jeers to “Stop ruining his chances at true love!”

With an ice pack pressed to his face, George can only roll his eyes at the various comments for the rest of the night, despite it being his birthday.

[sehodreams]

sex money feelings die - first visit

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

WC: 2.6k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

When you arrived to the dressing room your anxiety won over you and you practically inhaled the granola bar Sungchan had gifted you, thanking him in your mind because if you hadn’t tasted something sweet, you would’ve cried right there in front of all the girls that had just arrived.

Anton Lee, Anton Lee, Anton Lee.

Your mind kept repeating his name like a stuck cassette. You knew him, everyone knew him, he was the highest payer and religiously came every Friday. It was impossible to not recognize him in the crowd even between the numerous young guys and expensive suits.

He was one of the few customers the girls actually fought for, leaving big bills and sharing his expensive bottles with the people that kept him company through the whole night.

You’ve danced for him a couple times, and he was completely hot, sometimes leaving you all flustered with how his eyes inspected you when you moved, but you never maintained a decent conversation him, even less accepted one of his drinks, always rejecting him with a smile and calling the other girls with more experience to entertain him, like Shotaro had said to the group, he was important and the place would suffer if he left, because just like a guide, his posh friends would leave with him too, so everyone had to entertain him with the best.

‘’What’s going on in that little head?’’ Sungchan asked behind you, following you to the VIP room Anton booked every time he visited.

‘’Just that I should’ve choose a simpler set today, you know him, he likes the innocent type’’ you sighed. All the girls that spent the night beside him wore soft makeup and light lingerie, while you preferred the smokey look you had learned when you started and bought the darkest tones for your looks. You were wearing your typical black set when you remembered what he liked, but you didn’t feel like changing just for him, your dark image was part of you there, and you wouldn’t leave who you were behind just because he wanted you to be his personal company.

You played with the tie of with your black robe, still feeling a kind of shyness you knew was silly to have at that point, but that was always there, following you every time you stopped being you and became the confident girl collecting man hearts like cards your clients knew.

‘’You look as gorgeous as always, angel’’ Sungchan said trying to calm you down. You were sure he didn’t know what Shotaro had ordered you to do, he’d never smile and let you enter that room otherwise.

You chuckled. ‘’Why do all of you still call me angel?’’, you were curious, months had gone by and they all called you the same nickname, not that you minded, but it seemed to come so easy for them to say that word, and maybe when you were a waitress it made sense, you used to wear the uniform like a good girl, shirt covering you to the neck and light makeup that made you stand out in the dramatic place full of neon lights, loud music and drunk people, but now that you had the aura of belonging there under your heavy makeup and your provocative outfits, you didn’t understand why they continued calling you like that.

‘’Once an angel, always an angel, doesn’t matter how you look now, you’re still the same good girl walking around.’’

Your eyes almost got wet, how could he say that so easily? if only he knew what you were about to do inside that room, you were sure he’d never call you that again.

‘’Thank you Sungchan’’ you said when he opened the door for you, and after walking in and looking back he mouthed a silent I’ll be here to then close it behind you.

Anton was already there, and unlike other days, none of his friends were on his side.

You thanked God, at least he had the decency to do his business in private.

No sound came out of your mouth when you saw him. He was gifting you his typical sweet smile, confident and elegant, his lips pushing a delicate curve on the end of his smile, cat like and a touch mischievous. You couldn’t give him the same smile, and maybe he waited for you to talk first, because when he saw you wouldn’t his smile flattered a little.

‘’Good afternoon’’ he finally said. His voice was soft, sure he never had to be loud before, you thought about it before, how he and his friends had that gentle tone when they asked for things until they got drunk, getting to the conclusion that they never had to demand loudly anything since their wishes were constantly being heard by the people around them, people that served them.

Now you were one of them too and that realization made you uncomfortable.

The warm and mature fragrance of his cologne filled your lung, not helping your nerves calm at all, and when the room started to feel hotter, you opened your robe with the hope of gaining some of the imaginary confidence you always had on stage. Your eyes never left his while you did it, slowly letting it slide under your arms until it fell to your feet, and when you saw his throat gulp and his eyes flutter, you wished you hadn’t wasted your favorite black lacy set with little gold details on him, because he seemed to enjoy it a bit too much.

Shotaro had asked you to wear something more comfortable since you weren’t supposed to dance, so you grabbed the old stilettos you used to wear while serving drinks, and since they were less high than usual you thought it would be less tempting, but the combination of them with your black stocking made your legs look a lot more seductive and less intimidating to him, having the contrary effect without you noticing.

You advanced to him and he uncrossed his legs to welcome you over his lap with much pleasure.

Before going in you had decided you’d give him the most boring and bland sex of his life so he never felt the need to call you alone, and if it was fast, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? You wanted to end it as fast as you could and go home to shower again, having for complete the night, with the hope of forgetting him, and he forgetting you, for your next shift.

Your hips timidly moved over him and his hands found your waist almost immediately, letting them rest over the naked skin between the pieces of cloth with a lot more confidence than you, watching you move over him with apparent knowledge. To be honest, your experience was completely amateur, having fucked only one guy one time, you tried to think in the many choreographies you had practiced and the numerous adult videos you watched, with the goal of getting him aroused and quickly finishing the job.

‘’So beautiful’’ he appreciated, making you press your nails in your palms. The granola bar you pushed in your throat minutes ago to calm your anxiety started to revolve inside your stomach, making your forehead sweat of nervousness. You should’ve remembered to not eat before that because every time you felt that kind of tension you felt yourself about to puke, but now it was too late, and he could easily see your discomfort all over your face. ‘’Are you okay?’’ he asked preoccupied, hands not pressing as hard as before and stopping you instead.

‘’Yes, sorry, let’s continue’’ you apologized, trying to go back to the activity you had started of moving your hips to lure him.

It didn’t work, soon you really felt yourself about to gag and jumped away from his body to not puke over his designer shirt, sitting next to him in the large velvet couch.

He grabbed one of the water bottles that were neatly arranged over the little table next to him and opened it for you, putting in your hand to then pat your back just like mothers did to their kids.

You drank half the bottle and he laughed.

‘’You’re so funny.’’

Your eyebrows frowned, what did he mean with funny? He was supposed to find you ravaging, fuck you and leave you after getting what he wanted, not to see you as his comedy relief when disgust bashed you. Well, wasn’t that supposed to happen? But he was there, next to you, laughing and patting your back to stop your nauseas.

‘’I didn’t think you would want your company tonight to be funny’’ you said almost angry.

He stopped laughing and, feeling the indignation coming out of your mouth, agreed with you to not offend you anymore.

‘’Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I just wanted to know you better in privacy’’. He seemed to understand you, but how could he? He was the one who put you in that situation, and just as fast as you felt bad for using a rude tone with him, you felt yourself getting heated again.

Suddenly a song started playing and the neon lights reflected lines around you two. They blinded him for a second, not used to them as much as you, while you felt a sense of comfort finally cooling your angriness.

Exhaling a long second your frown fell and, even with the sexy song sounding through the speakers, the provocative energy of the place couldn’t reach you anymore, making the silence between you two too torturous to start again.

‘’My name is Anton, Anton Lee’’ he said, trying to break it.

‘’You know how to call me’’ You never used your real name inside the local, every girl had a stage name that used with the clients and yours had been assigned by Shotaro.

He wanted to call you angel at first, just like everyone did, but you didn’t want to have such a pretty and innocent name when you were about to take your clothes off.

‘’I see’’ he wanted to hear your real name, but he knew you wouldn’t give it to him so easily. The expectations for tonight were more about hearing you talk about what you liked and what you did like you did with your regulars, he had concluded from all your rejections that you would never give him what he wanted just like that, that’s why he got surprised when you walked to him so decided, not that he hadn’t liked to see such a pretty girl open her robe and walk to him with such intense eyes, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen in his life, but not what he intended for his first night with you. ‘’I think angel fits you more, if you don’t mind me calling you that, I’ve heard how the others do it.’’

Working there you had received all kind of requests from men, to asphyxiate them with your tits, to spit on their faces, one even asked you to kick him in the balls, but somehow, they were a lot easier to answer than this one.

To accept or not, you didn’t know what to do. It was just a nickname, not even your real name, and still fell it too personal to say yes.

‘’It’s okay if you don’t want to, but I would like to hear your thoughts about it at least, I really want to know you better.’’

‘’I don’t get it, what do you mean with know me better?’’ He smiled, happy to finally hear you talking with him without being angry or cutting.

‘’I’ve heard you talking with your regulars, and it seemed like you have many things to say.’’

You frowned. ‘’Do you mean how I talk with them about what food and music I like?’’

‘’Yes, exactly that, I just want to hear about you, what you like, what you hate, what you care about, what you don’t care about, anything.’’

‘’That’s really vague, I don’t know what about me could be interesting to you.’’

His eyes searched around the room trying to find anything to talk about without you sounding desperate to escape from.

‘’Maybe, if you don’t mind me asking, why were you about to throw up over me?’’

You glared at him, ‘’I do mind, no thank you.’’

Baffled with your answer but still amused he shook his head with a smile, ‘’I see, well, thank you for telling me.’’

For the first time since you entered that room, you laughed and felt relaxed beside him.

You didn’t mean to, but even you found funny how he accepted everything you said when it was supposed to be the other way around, you should be the one saying yes to everything he said, but here you were, bitterness filling your mouth with every sentence that came out of it, and his answering with honeyed words.

The way your eyes closed, and your lips pressed to not show your teeth was the most adorable thing he had seen from you directed to him. He had always been envious of your regular clients and how they always got to see you giving them your attention while dancing for them.

He hated to go out of the VIP room, the place reeked like cheap perfume and national cigarettes, odors he wasn’t used to in his little perfect world, and you preferred that space to the room full of bottles that costed more taxes than the whole drink menu. How did he end in that place? Even he can’t remember it exactly, he just recalls one of his friends telling him he had found really pretty girls coming here, and even if the clients weren’t as exclusive as him, your coworkers were all gorgeous enough to work in any other place they wanted, except that, just like he had discovered not long ago, not many places offered as much security like this one.

He had seen other clubs a lot more upscaled than this corner, but none of them watched their girls as much as this place, and most of them were brothels too, so he kind of guessed why all those pretty girls, including you, preferred this place to those snob clubs.

With his happy grin he exhaled after making you laugh, proud of himself.

The pleasant harmony didn’t last long, soon one of the security guys that always followed you opened the door, interrupting the moment that had just started to become enjoyable for you too.

‘’Time’s up’’ Sungchan said with the serious and strong face he showed to all the clients, so they didn’t mess with him.

The neon lights were replaced by the yellowish warm one of the chandelier above you two, music over thanks to the button outside he pressed when the time finished, to signal that you had to leave for your next client or show. He did it so the clients didn’t force you to stay, and you usually followed him immediately, but this time you didn’t know what to say or do, you weren’t sure if to tell him that you hadn’t started yet or how to tell him that Anton had paid for your company the whole night without sounding suspicious.

At the end you didn’t need to.

‘’Time’s up’’ Anton repeated.

‘’But we haven’t…’’ before you continued, he smiled at you and nodded.

‘’Until next time’’

Shotaro gave you that night what you usually did in an entire week.

the start ↬ first visit ↬ second visit

[munsonology]

Sugar Daddy! Eddie who just happens to meet you. You're a waitress at some restaurant and he gives you a hard time. Eddie is joking but he has a bit of a bite to his tone. He's expecting you to blubber and apologize like everyone else does when he snaps (he isn't typically a dick, but sometimes his social cues are off and he can come across as dickish). You immediately give him sass back. He's immediately intrigued, you've got a backbone and you're pretty? Score. Plus, he is 85% certain you were checking him out as he was lead to your table.

Unfortunately, another customer does not appreciate your sass (honestly tho, that customer was an asshole who kept making classist comments and called you trailer trash, which you aren't even sure what that means fully)(Eddie overhears that on his way to the bathroom and immediately knows what that means). Customer complains which is enough for the boss to fire you on the spot. Completely unfairly. You show up early, work your ass off, plus you don't even get to keep all the tips cause Mr Bossman keeps part of them because "you should be lucky you have a job".

You storm out snd Eddie is hot on your heels. He gives you an offer you can't refuse, you do have college to pay for and an apartment. At first, it isnt even anything sexual. He just wants to chat. To talk. To have a companion. Which led to cuddling. Which led to a kiss here and a kiss there. Which led to one heavy make-out session which you realized maybe college wasn't for you cause you could get used to this (this is also the time Eddie cums in his pants and he berates himself for acting like a horny teen, and he thanks every God he knows that you didnt notice).

Of course which leads to Eddie buying you lingerie *he already bought you many things and part of you wanted to refuse because you don't want his pity money you want to earn your money...on the other hand you want to be spoiled*. Which of course you model. Which of course ends in a photo session of you modeling the lingerie. And when Eddie has to go away to check in on one of his record stores, you're a little sad. But you're also a minx and just text him to open his camera roll to the hidden folder (the one where you have to put a pass code in). Eddie is confused cause he had 0 clue that was a thing.

He texts you asking for the code. You respond "its what I want to do with you." Before he can respond you say "it starts with a f". He types in the numbers that would correspond with the word fuck and he's immediately hard. Not only is there more pics of you modeling the lingerie, but one with you fingering yourself, and a video of said fingering where you are moaning his name and when you come you squirt. He's booking the next flight to you

Oh my word!!!!!!! Anon you’ve read my mind!!! I’m writing this in the grocery store 😭😭 thank you for sharing this!!! Inspirational!!

Cw: daddy kink, sugar daddy, cum eating, dom/soft dom eddie

Before you get fired there’s a couple weeks where he comes in everyday at the same time and sits in your section just to banter with you. He leaves a great tip which is always welcome.

So when he offers to take care of you in return for companionship. You’re hesitant at first but when the bills start piling up you call him. He immediately deposits your first payment for just coming over. $10,000, he kinda feels at fault for getting you fired. He has a contract drawn up by his personal attorney just to make sure that everything done is on your terms.

And he’s starting to really like you, beyond the 4 walls of the contract. You’re starting to fall for him too. He’s kind and gentle with you, more what any man your own age has ever done. He’s compassionate and sweet. He takes you out to dinner to tell you he doesn���t want the contract anymore. He wants to really be with you and it’s what you want too.

You’re wearing the fancy lingerie he bought for you. When he drives through garage of his penthouse in the city, he stands behind you as you admire the view of the city. He peels the straps of your dress from your shoulder, exposing your tits to the skyline. He grabs them in his hands and you keen into him 😭 his hands are so big and his rings are pinching your nipples!!!

And he lifts your dress up to see you aren’t wearing any fuckin panties!!! You’re so wet he can see the stain on the silk dress. He’s like “I’ll fill your skirt with as many dresses as you want baby” and he rips the dress down the middle and hiked it up to your tummy!!!

He gently lays you down on the floor and eats your like a grocery store in the apocalypse!!!! He guides you through orgasm after orgasm until his clothes are soaked and so is the floor 😦

And then he fucks the shit outta you!!!! Because even though he’d like to make love to you he just can’t wait! His cock thrusts in you while he has a hand on your neck and his other hand on your clit “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to princess”

“Yes daddy” you moan

“Who’s pussy is this”

“Yours daddy”

“Who’s ass is this?”

“Mine” you tease and he grips your cheeks, because you’re being bratty and you know he hasn’t fucked your sweet ass yet 😭

“It’ll be mine by morning baby. I know how much you want my cock in your ass. You’ve been hinting at it for weeks. Texting me those little peaches. Don’t worry I’ll split you open real good.”

You mewl and drab his wrist. “Please I want your cock so bad daddy”

“My baby gets what she wants. Open,” he commands and you open your mouth and happily accept the his spit!!!

And he fucks you like that until tears fall from your eyes in pleasure and you’re screaming his name. He pulls out and cums all over your tits and tummy, some landing on your face. You dip and finger in and taste with a little smirk and offer him some!! 🤤😦😦😭

Yeah he’ll make love to you tomorrow night 😭😭😭

Bestie what if Janice is his housekeeper/personal assistant because she practically helped Wayne raise him and she comes in the next morning to see you and Eddie butt naked in the living room 😭😭😭😭 Eddie is a heavy sleeper so you woke up with her standing there and she’s like “I guess you’re a keeper then titmouse��� 😭😭😭😭

[bookish-whore]

❤️✨V-Day Headcanons✨❤️

A/N: alrighty here we have our lord of bloodshed, prince of bastards, general of the night court armies himself and I am in a word…speechless. Don't worry Rhysand is coming next.

Cassian

I've said it before and I'll say it again. Cassian's love languages are quality time and acts of service (especially in the bedroom)

He also is a last-minute planner so he doesn't think about the fact that it's even an important day until a week before after he overhears Rhysand mention something to Az

It sends him into a full-blown panic because you always manage to plan such thoughtful things and he just wants you to feel how much he loves you even though he shows you every day (in so many ways but especially with his tongue)

He decides that a nice dinner at a new restaurant in town would be the best bet so he flies down there to find that it is completely booked. (he flashes his name, and Rhysand's to secure a table)

The day of he is picking up all your favorites literally anything he can think of that will make you smile. (he also buys you new lingerie because he wants to eat you out while you wear it.)

You're at home getting ready when he arrives, and he simply wraps his arms around you holding you tight

He sits in a chair in your shared bedroom just enjoying the silence with you while you finish getting ready (bc he just wants to be in your presence)

You're struggling with the final touches

He comes up from behind you to put your necklace on (ofc its red like his siphons I mean come on)

He does the thing (the thing where he trails his hands down your sides to the zipper on your dress and slowly pulls it up sending waves of arousal right to your core.)

Cassian is kinky (I don't need to remind you of that.) so as he zips you up he whispers into your ear "take off your panties. I want you completely bare tonight"

He follows that order with a sharp slap to your ass which makes you jump but also makes you squeeze your thighs together in anticipation for later.

Dinner is sweet, its quiet and intimate despite being a busy night (Cassian asked Rhys to bribe the restaurant so it would be more private for the two of you)

You offer him a piece of your dessert and Cass shakes his head with a mischievous grin.

"You have to try this" you plead "it's absolutely delicious"

"I'm saving my appetite for later" he says in a low tone "when I can have my way with my sweet pussy"

You clench your legs together a wave of wetness rushing through you because he is a god in the bedroom.

"I can smell just how much you want me baby" he says waving the waitress over with the bill "Don't wanna keep my good girl waiting. now do I?"

He flies you home, loving the way you cling to him as he goes higher and higher into the clouds. He grips you close with one hand while the other finds its way between your legs, slowly teasing your clit.

You make it home in record time.

You run to the closet and Cass stalks after you silently, wondering why you're in such a hurry

"its a surprise" you promise telling him to sit down and be patient

you emerge a few minutes later in a leather lingerie set you picked up that had red gemstones adorning it (that reminded you of his leathers)

He is practically drooling as you make your way to him, straddling his large thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He digs his hands into your ass (grinding you against his straining cock)

"I'm going to have my way with you little one" he grits through his teeth

and oh my gods he does.

(the next day you are too sore to even get out of bed)

[kelyon]

Courtship 14: Bridesmaids

Lacey tells her friends about the wedding

Read on AO3

Wednesday morning, Miss French opened Game of Thorns and worked the morning shift, accompanied by the sullen, silent presence of her father. At noon, she got ready for her weekly lunch with Janine and Mara. She decided to wear all new clothes today. The future Mrs. Gold had to look her best at all times. 

She started with a tight gray pencil skirt that went down to her knees. At Modern Fashions, she had managed to find thick socks that went up to her thighs but didn’t connect in the middle. That would keep her warm while still following Mr. Gold’s rule about having as little as possible covering her up. The socks were boring black, so she livened up the look with a pair of burgundy leather boots. Her top was a luscious maroon, almost see-through if she didn’t wear a camisole underneath. She had camisoles now, five of the same shirt in different colors. Once, that would have been an unthinkable luxury.

The only thing she didn’t have new was underwear. Modern Fashions had a limited selection of black and beige granny panties, and the bras were equally dumpy. Miss French deserved something more interesting than that. Well, Mr. Gold deserved something more interesting than that. She had been waiting for the right opportunity to visit Mara’s lingerie boutique. Maybe today, after lunch, after she picked up her birth control from the pharmacy. 

Leaning into her mirror to put makeup on, Miss French tried not to contemplate what being on birth control would mean for her. Of course she didn’t want kids now, so Mr. Gold was right to stop that process before it could start. But she had always thought that she’d have children someday. Some nebulous future after college and a career and a husband and a house. Of course, those blurry dreams always had Mom around, enjoying being a grandmother.

“Fuck!” She’d stabbed herself with her eyeliner pencil. Tears welled up in her eyes and she quickly blotted them with toilet paper. “Fucking cheap shit.”

She would get new makeup at the pharmacy. Mr. Gold had given her enough money for it. She’d buy out the whole department, get the most expensive brands in every color they had. 

Blinking and squinting, Miss French salvaged the rest of her eye makeup. Examining herself in the mirror, she looked good. She looked like Miss French, like the future Mrs. Gold. This was her first time showing off this side of herself to the big wide world. She’d better make a damn good impression.

****

This time, it was Mara who was first at Granny’s. When she saw Miss French from across the diner, she mimed a face of shock and awe. 

“You look so good!” she said. “What’s going on? Do you have a business meeting later? Are you pitching Game of Thorns to some venture capitalists in Boston?”

“No, nothing like that,” Miss French laughed. She took off her hat and new coat, but left her gloves on. “I do have good news, but I want to wait until Janine gets here before I say anything.”

They didn’t wait long. Janine burst in, her salon smock peeking out from underneath her parka. After a round of hugs, she slid in the booth next to Mara. 

“Hey strangers,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. The month started yesterday and I am booked.”

“Told you!” Mara said. “One week! That’s all it takes to flip your life upside down.”

Miss French laughed at that, a little too loudly. It was true! A week ago she had just finished her first date with Mr. Gold and now she was getting ready to marry him. 

“Hey.” She put her gloved hand flat on the table to get their attention. “You guys order whatever you want, okay? Full meals. It’s on me.” 

“Ooh, la di da!” Mara grinned. “Does this have to do with your good news?”

“You have good news?” Janine asked. “God knows we need more of that.”

“Let’s order first.” Miss French hid her coy smile behind her menu. 

When Ruby the waitress stopped by the table, Janine and Mara both looked at her for confirmation before they ordered. She nodded enthusiastically. 

“So,” Mara said when they were done. “Spill the beans. What the heck is going on?”

Miss French took a deep breath. Her heart was racing. She tried to pretend it was just excitement, that she didn’t have a shred of fear about telling her two best friends the best news of her life. 

Slowly, deliberately, she took off first her right glove, then her left. She held out her left hand for them to see her ring. It took them a second to put the pieces together.

“Oh my God,” Janine whispered. “Did you get married?”

“Not yet,” Miss French said. “This is sort of a combination, an engagement ring and a wedding ring at the same time.”

“Wha--” Mara kept shaking her head. “When? Who?”

“There’s a man that I’ve been dating for a while. I wasn’t sure what it was so I didn’t want to tell you guys, but then on Sunday he proposed.”

“Oh my God!” Janine squealed. “That’s amazing! But I can’t believe you didn’t tell us! You sneak!” 

“It all happened pretty fast,” Miss French admitted. 

“How fast?” Mara asked. “How long have you had a secret lover?”

Miss French giggled. “Not too fast. I know getting married is a big step, but I really think I’m ready for it. And of course I want you two to be my bridesmaids.”

“Oh, Lacey!” Janine’s smile filled up her face. “Of course! God, we used to dream about being in each other’s weddings!”

“Have you set a date yet?” Mara asked. “And who the heck is your husband?” 

“It’s actually coming up really fast,” Miss French said. “It’s gonna be on February twelfth, at Dodici’s.”

“Wait, the twelfth? Next Saturday?” Mara looked her up and down. “Are you pregnant?”

“No!”

“It’d be okay if you were. We’d support you.” That came from Janine, who was already supporting her mother and sister--and failing at it.

“I’m not!” Miss French repeated. “That’s not what’s going on.”

“Yeah, Uncle Moe isn’t really the shotgun type.”

“So why so fast?” Mara asked.

Miss French shrugged. “When you find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

“Who is this guy?” Mara was almost shouting now. “You never talked this way when you were dating Hunter.”

“Yeah, and Hunter was a catch,” Janine said. “Cool, rich and gorgeous? You were so lucky.”

“He was alright,” Miss French shrugged. “But I’m doing a lot better than Hunter now.”

“A lot better with…?” 

Mara wouldn’t let this go. The fact that it was a perfectly reasonable question only made it more awkward that she didn’t want to answer. For just a few more minutes, she wanted to bask in her friends’ celebration. She wanted to stay in the fantasy that they would embrace and support her and the man she chose to marry. That they would have no reason not to. 

She got a break when Ruby came back with their lunches. The waitress set their orders down, made sure everything was correct, and went on her way.

“I’m serious, Lacey,” Mara said as she took a bite of her lobster roll. “If you don’t tell us who you’re marrying, I’m gonna drag you into the harbor by your nostrils and stick you under water until you do.”

Miss French smiled sheepishly, and added extra pickles to her burger. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to freak out.”

“Why would we freak out?” Janine cut into her lasagna. 

“Well, my dad freaked out when I told him. So did my uncle Manny.”

“Yeah, well they’re old farts,” Mara said. “We’re the hip, cool, new generation. And we’re your friends, so we’re on your side no matter what.”

“Really?” Lacey’s heart leapt to her throat..

“Yeah!” Mara said. Janine nodded her agreement. 

“Okay,” Miss French took a deep breath. “And just… understand that this isn’t as bad as you might think it is.”

“Why all these cautions?” Mara asked. “Did you sell your soul to Lucifer or something?”

“No,” she said softly. “No, it’s not like that. It’s… It’s Mr. Gold.”

There was a moment’s silence. 

Janine’s eyebrows furrowed. “What about Mr. Gold?”

“It’s him. He’s the man. I’m… going to marry him.”

Her friends’ expressions were exactly the same: Shock giving way to horror and sorrow. Janine set her fork down and looked at her lasagna like she had found a severed thumb inside it. Mara kept trying to say something and kept failing. 

“W-W-W-Why?” she finally managed. “Lacey, are you okay? Does he have something over you? You know you have options. You can go to Sheriff Graham. Do you need us to give you money?”

“You don’t have money,” Miss French said coolly. “And I told you, this isn’t a bad thing. I like Mr. Gold. I want to marry him.”

“You--you can’t,” Janine sounded like she was about to cry. “He’s so old. And he’s so horrible.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“You can only say that because you don’t owe him money.” 

“No, I owe him more than that,” she said. “He’s given me things you can’t even imagine. And I love it. I want more of it. I’m going to marry him and I want you guys to be there with me. Please.”

Mara set down her lobster roll. She seemed to have put together where all this newfound cash was coming from. 

“He’ll pay for your dresses!” Miss French tried. “And Janine, you can do my hair! Do one of those crazy updos you like to do? I’ll pay you for your time!”

“Lacey,” her cousin whispered. 

“Me being in this position will be a good thing for all of us,” she went on. “Mr. Gold throws money at me, I can pass it on! I can help you guys!”

“Oh my God, he pays you?” Disgust painted Mara’s face. “And you take it?”

“Yeah, I take everything he gives me,” Miss French snapped. “Take it any way he wants me to.”

“And you’re proud of this?” Mara shook her head. “Lacey, don’t you know what this makes you?”

“A whore,” Miss French said bluntly. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m marrying him, so I won’t be a whore anymore.”

“What will you be?” Mara went on. “You think people will call you any less of a golddigger just because you’re wearing a ring? Do you think he won’t know you’re bought and paid for? Lacey, he’ll use that as an excuse to do anything to you!”

“That’s what I’m hoping for!”

“I mean he’ll treat you like shit. This is a classic recipe for you being in danger.”

“I’m not in danger.” She rolled her eyes. “Mr. Gold isn’t a monster. He’s just a man who gets what he wants--and right now, he wants me! I think that’s great!”

Janine seemed to have shut down for a few minutes. When she finally looked up, her sky blue eyes were full of tears. “You’ll be a totally different person once you’re married to him. You’re already different.”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” Miss French said sharply. “I want to be different. I want to be better. Mr. Gold is my ticket to an actual life and not just scraping by to survive all the time. And I can find ways to take you with me! He told me he wants me to take care of you two. We can do this together!”

“Do you mean…?” Mara made a face. 

“No! No, of course not.”

“He’ll ask for something like that,” Janine said. “You know a man like that is probably some kind of pervert.”

“He’s the best kind of pervert,” Miss French told them proudly. “He’s the kind of pervert I’m into.” 

“Oh my God.” Janine covered her mouth with her hand. “How could you do this, Lacey?”

Defeated, Miss French slumped in her booth. “Why did I think you two would be different? Like, I understand my dad going apeshit because I’m having sex with a man he personally hates, but I thought you guys would get it.”

“He’s a bad man,” Janine whispered. “He’ll make you do bad things.”

She scoffed. “You sound like a child. That’s how Chloe would understand the world.”

“She’s not wrong,” Mara said. “I don’t think this relationship is good for you, and I know that being married to him will be worse. Worse for you, Lacey. He will hurt you!”

“That’s what I get off on,” Miss French said in a catty stage whisper. “I like the way Mr. Gold treats me. I want to be the person he thinks I can be.”

“Oh God!” Janine said again. She pushed herself away from the table and ran crying into the bathroom.

Mara gave her a withering look, then ran after her friend.

Miss French stayed where she was. She ate her burger, and waited for them to come back. They would come back. If nothing else, they wouldn’t waste a free lunch. 

Would they?

After waiting for half an hour, she tossed a fifty on the table and left. 

****

She stormed the short walk from Granny’s to Dark Star Pharmacy. Those fucking bitches. Those small-minded, puritanical idiots! Couldn’t they see what was right in front of them? Were they so blinded by hate and fear that anything to do with Mr. Gold automatically became unclean? Who were they to tell her what she could and couldn’t do? Who were they to judge her? Fucking virgins, so obsessed with being good they’d never get a chance be alive.

She ground her teeth.

It wasn’t fair. She wanted to be with Mr. Gold. He made her feel happy, he made her feel everything. Why couldn’t anyone in her life understand that? Why did gaining him mean she had to lose them?

Was it really too much to ask for both?

When she got to the pharmacy, she grabbed a basket and immediately started filling it with the most expensive things you could find in a drug store in Storybrooke. The brand-name organic lotion in all the offbeat scents? She got one of each. The salon-approved shampoo and conditioner for curly hair? Yes please! Shaving cream and razors, nail polish and face masks, she got all of it. Everything she’d ever thought was too indulgent to spend on herself. Everything she used to think she was a better person for not using. Lacey French hadn’t needed to fuss over her appearance, her brains would carry her everywhere.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore. Mrs. Gold would be a stupid slut and she’d have more luxuries than that delusional child could ever have dreamed of.

She rounded the corner and found herself in the magazine aisle. There was a girl, maybe twelve or so, with lank dark hair and owlish eyes that were too big for her face. She was staring at the magazines, at the models and celebrities with big boobs and perfect smiles. Her expression was something between rapture and starvation. 

Lacey recognized the feeling. The bone-deep hunger for the lives that you knew were fake but wanted to be real. It was frivolity and vanity, but it was also joy and glamour. To be the girl everyone looked at--or even just the girl who could fit in with the girls everyone looked at. To be wanted and idolized. To always wear the right clothes, say the right words, be the right person. To be pretty, effortlessly pretty. To sparkle and shine and feel like you can do anything.

And then to hate yourself for wanting something you’d never have. Something that no one ever really has. Even the models on the magazines don’t really live the life they’re selling. You’re smart enough to know it's a lie but you still hate yourself for not having it. You want to believe in the dream, want it so much more than anything in your real life. 

The girl looked at Miss French, head tilted, mouth open a little. The kid was dressed in loose jeans and dirty sneakers. Her top half was covered by an insulated hoodie big enough to belong to a grown man. She looked at Miss French in a form-fitting wool coat and burgundy boots. She looked at the styled hair, the makeup it had taken her half an hour to get right. 

Miss French caught the girl’s eye and winked. “It gets better,” she said. “You won’t be in middle school forever.”

Then she grabbed a copy of Vogue and a copy of Cosmopolitan and put them in her basket. It was getting heavy now, so she might as well check out. She went to the prescription pick-up counter and waited for Mr. Clark, the short little pharmacist who was always sneezing. 

“Hi!” she said when he came to the counter. It was easier now to be bright and chipper, to play the role of Mr. Gold’s fiancee. “I’m here to pick up a prescription.”

“Oh right.” Mr. Clark nodded, then turned his head to sneeze into his elbow. “Dr. Whale called me at home last night for this. He said the order came from Mr. Gold?”

“Mmm-hmm!” Miss French smiled. 

Mr. Clark gave her a puzzled look. “You’re Lacey French, right? From the flower shop? Why is Gold throwing his weight around to get you an express prescription?”

Her anger came back with a vengeance. She didn’t owe answers to a pharmacist. She was going to be Mrs. Gold. She didn’t owe anything to anyone. At that moment, something inside her turned sharp and hard and brittle. The hot lava of her rage solidified into an obsidian blade.

She smiled.

“Well you can see what the pills are, can’t you?” Her voice was cheerful and patronizing, like she was talking to a kindergartner she was trying not to murder. 

“Yeah.” The pharmacist was oblivious. He looked down at the label on the white paper bag. “It’s birth control.”

Miss French leaned over the counter to get in his snot-nosed face. “Why do you think Mr. Gold is buying me birth control? Hmm? I’ll give you a hint--it’s not so I can fuck anybody else!”

“Jesus,” he whispered. “Look, I’m sorry, I--” He turned away for another sneeze, then came back, wiping his nose. He stuck the used tissue in his pants pocket. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Yeah, well you did,” Miss French said. “So why don’t you just check me out and I can move on with my life?”

The pharmacist exhaled a long breath. After a quick moment to douse his hands with sanitizer, he began to ring up her stuff.

****

As she left the pharmacy, Miss French looked down the street towards Mr. Gold’s shop. Part of her wanted to run to him. She wanted to take refuge in the steady warmth of his presence. She wanted to unburden herself, tell him what a rotten day she was having, that she’d been betrayed and abandoned by people she’d known since she was born. Maybe he would listen to her, maybe he’d have good advice. Or maybe he’d just fuck her until those bitches didn’t matter anymore. Maybe he’d punish her for needing them so much in the first place.  

But he hadn’t asked her to visit him today, and she didn’t want to interrupt his work. She couldn’t go demanding his time and attention over every little thing that bothered her. Mr. Gold was a busy man, an important man. When he focused on her, it was because she was important. She couldn’t ask for that all the time. 

Besides, she was an adult. She could deal with stuff on her own, especially this petty shit. Mr. Gold had given her money and a shadow of his power. She wore his ring and soon she would have his name. What did it matter what lesser people thought of her? What did it matter that a pharmacist gawked? What did it matter that a hairdresser and a lingerie seller might never talk to her again?

She was going to be Mrs. Gold. She had better start acting like it.    

[dyinglikenarcissus]

Valentine’s Day

Steve Rogers x black female reader

Warnings: Mature content! 18+ only! Contains: masturbation, vibrators, vaginal sex, oral sex (on a male), unprotected sex, cream pie, squirting, mirror sex, set in a love hotel, no real kinks in this one. Just general Valentine’s Day fluff and smut. If that’s upsetting for you, feel free to skip this one ☺️

So this was inspired by this post. I thought it was such a freaking adorable concept so I had to write it for my comfort couple. Thanks for the inspo @angelltheninth!

4K words

Master list

You stand looking out over the city after watering your miniature jungle. Steve went a little overboard with this project. You smile to yourself before looking back at the plants in question.

Oh well. It kept him happy.

Then your mind wonders back to the reason he started this whole balcony orchard.

They were supposed to be leaving him alone. He was supposed to be retired. But he can never say no…

You let out a soft sigh lean heavily over the railing. Normally you wouldn’t care. But tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.

And in all of the years you’ve been together, you wouldn’t have cared. You’d never spent a Valentine’s Day together before anyway. He was always out, busy saving the world, protecting your freedom and all that good stuff.

But this year he promised he’d be home. Swore he’d be home. He made you make plans. He wanted to be surprised.

So you made plans and you were going to make the most of it. You decided to be silly and book a night a little boutique love hotel downtown. You preordered flowers and champagne for the room. You booked reservations at the jazz club you spent your first date at. You got waxed. You got plucked. You even got your nails done just to immediately stain them with coffee grounds but it was the thought that counts. It was going to be perfect.

Except you didn’t have a boyfriend to spend the evening with.

He got called away two days ago and he promised to be back in time. You never put too much on those promises. This was earth’s mightiest hero after all.

Didn’t mean you couldn’t still enjoy your plans. So you packed an overnight bag with a variety of vibrators, downloaded your favorite smutty comics and stories and the good tentacle stuff, and picked out a strappy white dress that you were saving for this evening to layer over some brand new lingerie. You were going to make the most of your Valentine’s Day, Steve or no Steve!

You still packed a duffle for him, just in case.

He may come home in time. You hope. You pray. You click your heels together three times before chanting “I want my boyfriend,” over and over until it was time to leave for your dinner reservation.

You let out a soft huff glancing at the clock on the microwave. “Fine! I’m going! I’m going to enjoy my day all by myself!” You grumble to the universe, pulling both duffle bags over your shoulders and stumbling down to your car in your bright red heels.

You make it to the restaurant just in time for your reservation and inform the hostess that it will just be for one. You watch all the couples dancing on the ground floor below, having a wonderful time together. This was a mistake. You could’ve stayed home and made yourself dinner and saved some money. You could be watching a feel good romcom on your couch in one of Steve’s sweaters and your fuzzy socks. Panic starts to rush over you just as the waitress drops off a fruity cocktail. What if he comes home and wonders where you are? These plans were meant to be a surprise! He has no idea what your plans are. He’ll be so worried!

You have to go back home!

Wait. Calm down. He tracks where you are on his phone. He can easily call you if he finds your apartment empty. Besides, he’d call if he was on his way home. He normally calls. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself without him. He’d want you to enjoy yourself.

But you aren’t enjoying yourself.

You ponder just canceling the hotel reservation while you eat your lobster. You’d be charged a late cancelation fee though…

You wouldn’t be able to get your money back for the flowers and champagne. And you still kind of wanted to check this place out! It was so popular and it was hard to get a Valentine’s night reservation. You let out a soft sigh while pushing your broccolini around the plate.

“How is everything?” Your waiter asks stepping up to the table.

“Oh, it delicious!” You force a smile up at him.

He glances at your plate and your vegetables that have been shaped to form a star then back at you. “Are you sure?”

You let out a sigh dropping the false bravado. “It really is amazing. I just have a lot on my mind,” you admit.

“Date cancel on you?” He asks, squatting at the side of the table to be able to hear you better over the music.

“Oh no,” you laugh. “He would never. He got called away for work last minute so I’m trying to make the most of it.”

“That’s good! It’s refreshing to see someone so independent. I hope he’s still paying.” You laugh at his comment and nod. “How are you feeling about dessert? It’s going on your man’s card,” he goads making you smile.

“Sure,” you agree attempting to remember the menu.

“Chef’s special for you. Do you like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate!”

“Alright. Hang tight.” You smile to yourself, feeling a little more confident in your solo night out, and finish your veggies. He returns to take your dinner plate and replaces it with a ball of chocolate covered in gold dust. You quickly snap photos of it before digging in. A chocolate shell with hazelnut ice cream and chocolate torte. You’re dying. You’re physically dead. This waiter earned his tip and then some. You hum happily as you lick the ice cream off of your spoon.

Steve and his sweet tooth are missing this.

Eventually you step into your suite for the night, dropping both duffle bags at your feet before taking a look at the room. It’s super clean. You even swipe a finger over the top of the tv and not a spec of dust. Impressive.

And it’s cute. It’s this American themed room that you thought you were being cheeky and cute by picking out. It’s a little over the top with the white and red striped wall paper and navy blue duvet covered in white stars but it’s super cute.

First step, out of this make up! Then that jacuzzi was calling your name. You take a quick shower to get off the dirt of the day before laying out your own bath mat and filling up the tub with powdered coconut milk and dried flowers. You don’t care how well they clean. You don’t trust it. You slip off your robe, tie up your hair, and grab your favorite vibe and your phone ready to enjoy your night.

You start off with your favorite cg comic about the sentient alien dildo who’s goal was to impregnate a sorority house to warm up. You should know better by now. You don’t need anything but this. You dread the day when you get bored of it. And this vibrator is so perfect. It’s just a simple clit stimulator but it’s so good! Steve got it for you after he caught you getting yourself off while he was out. It’s all you need. Steve can get to that deep spot inside you but he’s the only one you want there. It’s sacred. Stamped with a “SGR”. You explained that to him and he thought it was cute and he ask what he can do to help. The question just made you flustered before he fucked the embarrassment away. A week later, you found this little red rose shaped vibrator on your night stand waiting for you.

It’s been your regular companion ever since.

You let out a soft whine as you get closer to cumming. Your hips rock gently trying to get yourself there. You teeth graze your bottom lips as your insides pulse. The pulses get closer and tighter and higher and you’re so close you can almost taste your release…

Then there’s a knock at the door.

“Whaaa?” You whimper as you completely lose your focus and the knot inside you starts to loosen in an unsatisfying cramp. You eyes close in frustration. Wasn’t the whole point of this hotel privacy?

“Yes?” You call, dropping your phone on the tub’s rim before rubbing your hand over your eyes.

“House keeping,” a deep voice calls into the room.

“House keeping?” You mutter and pull yourself out of the jacuzzi. You wrap a towel around your waist and walk up to the door. You can’t reach the peep hole and you roll your eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

So you crack the door open with the chain lock still on and you almost scream.

You slam the door closed to take off the chain before leaping in a set of strong waiting arms

“Stevie!” You cry into his neck. “You made it! You’re here!”

“I told you I wouldn’t miss Valentine’s Day,” he laughs, holding you so tight. So perfect. Your towel fell away from the jump causing Steve to step into the room and lock the door behind him. You squeeze him tighter. He’s here. He’s really here. “Sorry I missed dinner,” he mutters into your neck but you shake your head smiling.

“Are you hungry? They have room service,” you ask pulling away to finally look into soft blue eyes. He looks like he’s been crawling through the mud but he’s here.

“We grabbed something on the way out of Morocco.”

“Morocco?” You ask watching his lips.

“I’ll tell you about it later. Right now, I want to spend time with my princess.” He presses his lips to yours. It’s just a peck. Then another and another and another until you’re making out in his arms. You have to pull away for air first but all you can do is smile breathlessly. “So, you know I hate to eavesdrop,”

“Sure,” you laugh knowing full well he loves overhearing you do things in private.

“I do! Honestly,” he grins. “I heard a bath and some weird vibrating noises,” he trails making you giggle.

“I was just enjoying the jacuzzi,” you smile. “You can, too, but I’m worried you’ll turn the water black.”

“Are you saying I’m dirty?” Steve asks faking a shocked face.

“You’re a very dirty boy,” you insist. “How about a shower first?”

“A shower sounds amazing.”

You slide down his body to the floor to work on his suit. “I brought your clothes and things,” you mutter while pulling his tactical belt open before freeing him from the rest of his clothes.

“Thank you, princess. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He tucks a finger under your chin to direct your face back to his as he leans down for another kiss.

“You’d survive,” you insist as he pulls away.

“Barely.”

You tug him toward the bathroom once he’s naked and aching for you.

The shower springs to life and you start to pull him inside.

“Wait! Baby, your hair,” he laments at your lack of headwear. Your braids were getting old anyway. You weren’t too worried about them.

“It’s fine,” you promise with a laugh. “Come on.”

He’s gorgeous. A work of art. You admire his porcelain skin as you scrub every inch of his body. You watch his muscles start to relax under your touch.

All his muscles but one.

A scrape starts to heal across his pec under your hand while you gaze up at him as he lets out a soft groan, completely oblivious to your admiration. Your fingers walk down his chiseled chest and toned stomach to tangle in the patch of hair there. That’s when his gaze meets yours, eyes dark and full of a familiar lust. You pull at your bottom lip with your teeth before wrapping your hand around his thick length. A soft ‘fuck’ escapes him as you grip him, pumping your hand just how you know he likes it.

“That good, baby?” You ask, pressing kisses to the center of his chest.

He answers in a soft moan making you smile. Your thumb rubs over his tip to feel a bead of precum leak out of him only to be rinsed away by the shower water.

You smile and squat down, reaching eye level with his leaking cock. You don’t let go as you continue to pump him and he braces a strong arm against the wall. Eyes closed and head tossed back against the warm water. Absolutely perfect.

Your plump lips wrap around his tip already filling your mouth with just that. That soft moan turns into groan as his big hand finds the back of your skull. Yeah, he likes this.

Your hands continue to work the rest of his length while your tongue swirls around his tip.

“Fuck, princess,” Steve sighs guiding your head gently. You look up to see the bliss covering his features. You know what he wants. It takes you a moment to build up to it, gathering saliva and relaxing your throat enough that when his tip bumps the back of your mouth it stops bothering you. Your eyes start to water as you take a deep breath though your nose and swallow him. Your nose buries in his pelvis as you take all of him. It’s never easy but you’ll do anything for him. You let him take over as he fucks your face rapidly. His soft moan are enough to have you dripping, clenching around nothing, as he reaches his peek.

You feel him expand slightly around your lips, swelling with his seed, and you prepare to take all of him. He forces your nose deep into his thick curly patch of hair as he cums directly down your throat. You try to swallow, to keep up with his load, but it’s so heavy and he’s so pent up. You press against his thigh and he immediately lets up, letting you pull away to cough as he continues to cum against your chest. You clear your throat and lick at his tip, catching the last spurt of cum on you mouth to properly taste him. That perfect mix of salt and musk that was Steve. You suck his tip clean before dealing with yourself. The water had washed away most of the snot and drool and tears but you still felt it sticking to your face as you wiped the back of your hand over your mouth.

“Eep!” You squeak as Steve lifts you abruptly to his level. His lips cover yours and you practically melt into his kiss. Such pillowy soft kissable lips. Then you let out another squeak of surprise when he doesn’t even put you down to flip you around, pressing you against the shower wall as he spreads your legs wide, tucking your knees over his elbows and entering you in one swift movement. You let out a soft gasp as you attempt to grip the smooth wall. Your cheek and aching tits are smooshed against the tile while he abuses your core. Steve sets a punishing pace but as he quickly finds that spot leaving you crying out for him.

“That good, princess?” He asks. You can hear the smile in his voice but you can’t even bother to respond. All you can produce is soft moans and whimpers.

Such a menace but you love him more than anything.

He rips through one orgasm, ignoring your spasming muscles and leaking core, just to go for a second one. “Please, Steve! Please, please, please!” You cry into the tile as you feel the pressure quickly building again.

“Gonna get you there, princess,” he assures you.

“Uh! Uh! Uh! Uhhuh! Huh! Ha!” You scream as your own cum squirts from you against the shower tile.

“One more?” He asks. You swear you’re still squirting when he asks. You can’t even comprehend one more but he’s already fucking you again at that same punishing pace. Tears stream from your eyes as you feel another knot forming. This one is just as tight as the last. You don’t even try to be cute. You can’t control your voice or your mouth as soft scream and cries escape you.

“Oh, God! Oh, Stevie! Pleash,” you slur, pressing back against the tile, your body can’t help but try to reach that high. His grunts fill your ears, drowning out your own voice as he stabs into that squishy spot inside of you. “Oh, God! Ohhh! Oh! Ahhh!” You cry cumming once more just as hard, feeling something empty from inside you only to feel Steve filling you back up just as quickly with his own release. He lets out a loud growl as he paints that spot, claiming it over and over until he empties himself once more.

The two of you are left gasping for air in the most awkward position while water continues to stream over you. It’s the most comfortable silence but you can feel your hips starting to cramp the longer he holds you open. You break the silence with a soft whine as you attempt to press yourself away from the wall. Steve quickly takes over, dropping one of your legs to support your chest and lower you to the floor. He doesn’t let go though. He keeps you close to his chest, holding you tight, covering you now full belly with both of his hands.

“You okay, princess?” Steve asks as feeling all of your weight against him. You just nod and hum contently. “Am I clean enough for you now?”

“Sparkling,” you mutter, cuddling against his chest.

The two of you don’t even dry before you step into the jacuzzi. You take your spot straddling his lap as he takes his deep inside you once more. This round is slower, calmer, more intimate, as you press kisses to his lips and jaw and nip just behind his ear while his fingers play with your nipples and grip your ass possessively. He definitely owns every part of you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once you’re filled once more and he’s satisfied for a moment, he finally hazards a look around the room.

“Is this an American themed room?” You giggle and nod. “Cheeky little thing,” he laughs. You press a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.”

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he whispers and presses another kiss to your lips. You pour him a glass of champagne and refill your own glass before he finally opens up about his mission. You massage his shoulders and drink enough to make your head fill fuzzy while he talks, inputting your opinion at times but mostly smiling and nodding and pressing kisses to his skin. He just needs to vent and you’re always there to listen.

“Princess, you drank most of that bottle,” Steve finally notes when you go to refill your glass once more.

“You had a couple of glasses,” you giggle.

He only hums in amusement before pressing his lips to yours. “You ready for bed?” You let out a sigh not ready to leave the bubbly hot water but you know he’s probably exhausted. You stumble to your feet with Steve’s help and let him wrap a towel around you.

You get ready for bed and slip on a lacy night gown and follow Steve to bed. “There’s a mirror on the ceiling?” Steve observes with a smile as you crawl into bed.

“So we can see ourselves fuck,” you explain curling into his chest comfortably, the alcohol loosening you inhibitions.

“Is that right?” Steve yawns. He doesn’t even bother being coy as he runs his hand under your night gown to find your ass. “Why did we even bother getting dressed?” You just giggle as he pulls off the bit of silk and lace and drops it at the end of the bed just to pull you into his lap and grind you against his erection through his sweats. You let out a soft whine as you stimulate your clit against the friction of his pants. “Alright, little miss ‘so we can see ourselves fuck’,” Steve laughs as he pulls off his sweats. “Come ‘ere.” You crawl back over him, accepting soft kisses while you card your fingers through his hair. “Turn over.” You quickly obey, facing away from him on all fours. He slowly pulls you back onto his lap, filling you up once again with him. “There you go. Good girl,” he praises making you clench around him. Both his hands cup your breasts as he pulls you back to lay on top of him. “Shit,” Steve sighs watching you in the mirror above you. You see yourself spread out over his giant body, the contrast of skin tones, and the way he fills you so perfectly. The way you fit each other so perfectly. “I like seeing this angle.” You laugh softly before he tweaks your nipples and runs his hands down to your hips. You pull your damp braids to the side and let him press kisses to your neck and whisper soft nothings into your skin. “All mine, aren’t you? You gonna let me claim you one more time?” You nod, letting out a soft whimper as Steve finds your clit and rubs rough circles into it. “Good girl. So good for me.” His legs keep yours stretched wide as he thrusts up into you.

“Mmmmnngh, Stevie,” you moan as he finds that abused spot in you all over again and you struggle to close your legs but Steve is unrelenting.

“Sensitive?” You nod. “Good. You’ll cum harder.” You just whine at his response and reach up to tangle your fingers behind his head, exposing more of your body as he fucks you into submission. Your first orgasm is quick and hard just like he promised, spilling your cum across the bed for Steve to watch in awe. Then he draws out the second one. Going slow, playing with your breast and clit, whispering you praises and nipping at your ear. You feel so pent up. All of it building into a harsh crescendo. You cry out against the feeling as colors and stars flash against your eye lids while you cum and he fills you for the third time this evening. That super soldier serum never ceases to amaze you. You’re both panting as your highs rush over you, the after glow never having a chance to leave you as you keep basking in it.

“We need to put a mirror over our bed at home,” Steve breathes. You just giggle and turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. He unwillingly pulls out and arranges you comfortably on the bed before cleaning you up.

“I think Valentine's Day is my new favorite holiday,” Steve yawns as he crawls back over you in the bed.

“Is that right?” You mutter into the pillow, sore and exhausted but oh so satisfied.

“Let’s start planning for next year. Maybe we can go back to the cabin. Or to a resort or something?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. No clothes, no pressure, just sex.” You laugh at his explanation of the holiday. “Thank you for planning all of this.”

“My pleasure, handsome.” You press once last kiss to his lips before you’re positive you’ll pass out from any further movement. “I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Valentine's Day.” You just hum already half asleep in the love of your life’s arms, comfortable, full, protected.

The perfect Valentine's Day. 

Moodboard

Dividers

Master List

[gummybear1031]

I've actually been watching good horror movies recently. "Terminator;" "Jaws;" the original "Mummy," which is racist but not as racist as expected. All of the "Friday the 13th"s up to "Jason X."

Then, my mama told me I may have been conceived during a movie called "Chopping Mall." So I HAD to watch that. (Don't worry. I wasn't; the timing is a few months off.)

Sir, why are you shooting directly into R2DBag’s metal plating? Surely, the obviously glowing weak point of his eye is where you should be aiming.

It’s been exactly a minute-and-a-half, and this movie is obviously a great idea. 

I really wanted their designations to be ACAB, not Protector. Also, I’m glad that the CEO keeps going “They can’t kill people!” while explaining all the ways in which they could kill people. 

“They remind me of your mother. It’s the laser eyes.” is amazing. 

Dude: “Absolutely nothing can go wrong.” Title: *immediate blood red lettering* CHOPPING MALL

The old couple watching the young couple PDA’ing all over the place, turning to each other like they were going to complain, and then kissing was absolutely adorable. I’m going to be real sad if they get Killbotted. 

Did malls have independent restaurants in them? Ours only had chain stores and fast food. 

The chef is wiping the spatula on his apron, and the waitress has her ticket book in the food. I need to call the 1980s health department. 

Lightning strikes: the natural enemy of AI Killbots. 

Less than 10 minutes in the movie and the Killbots have gone rogue! This movie doesn’t play around. 

Monday? Is the mall closed on weekends? That seems unlike everything I’ve heard about them. 

For it to be lightning this much, there doesn’t seem to be any thunder and it doesn’t look like it’s raining. 

I’ve been married for seven years, and that lingerie trick would have worked on my spouse too. 

I’m assuming all these stores are actually parodies of real popular 1980s stores that I’m not familiar with. Or this is the only shopping mall in history where everything is run by locals. 

In 1986, my mama’s hair looked almost exactly like Susie’s but black from her shoulders down. I think she may have had that exact same outfit too. 

Did the Killbots clean up their murder?

Do these kids not know about the Killbots?

Does the Killbot not care about the “party?” I put it in quotations because I’m not sure it is a party. 

Wait, is the restaurant called Licorice Pizza? 

…She doesn’t allow him to go down on her? What man wrote this? 

Why is everybody so obsessed with drinking in the mall? 

Maybe don’t be aggressive with the taser bot that has sent a bolt into the puddle of water you’re standing in, Walter. 

Either Mike is really bad at sex or Leslie is really good at it. Or they’re both idiots who weren’t written to sound like real people. 

The music is so bad, but I kinda love it. It really matches the rest of the movie. 

How did the Killbot open those doors? 

I feel like the store owners would be really upset about the Killbots crashing through their front doors and shooting all their stuff. Probably more upset than they would be about the loss of life. 

Ever since Walter died, the only thing I can think of when I see the Killbots is “You are metal and triangular, like a R2, the strongest shape.” (Walter the Catt is “orange and triangular, like a 3D Dorito, the strongest shape.”)

Linda and Allison should punch Suzie in the face and then drag her along the vent. Or let her go alone. She’s going to get them all killed. 

Suzie, are you even trying? Why are you just lying there and screaming? Oh! Now that you’re on fire, you try to move! 

Allison is the only competent person in this whole movie. 

And they still give the gun back to Ferdy. 

Greg is not wrong. They should’ve kept Suzie in the air vent, even if they had to punch her in the face and drag her unconscious body. 

The reason y’all haven’t seen him is ‘cause he’s on the third level. If you go up there, he will zap you with laser bolts of head explosion. 

Y’all need to punch Greg in the face, the same way you should’ve punched Suzie. He’s going to get y’all killed. 

Nevermind. 

Are y’all forgetting the Killbots exploded the last door you barricaded? Also, you’ve seen them use the escalators; they’re going to go to the same one you are. 

Linda and Rick were smart. Until it was time to die. Then they became idiots. Bye, guys, I miss you having a brain cell. 

Now it’s Allison’s chance to be dumb. Why don’t they both have a gun? Or at least give one to the person who can shoot. 

Wait. The phones work. Mike answered one before he was killed by Killbot 1. So why didn’t they try to call for help? 

Why does this pet store only have spiders, snakes, and one barking dog? 

And one cat. Where did Kitty even come from? It looked like someone yeeted them from offscreen. 

Allison, what are you doing? When Ferdy died, did he take the brain cell with him? 

Killbot2 is going to roll out of the wreckage of the elevator any second now, I know it. Nevermind. Ferdy is the actually alive character. 

Actually pretty good, but I don’t think it lived up to the promise of the name.

[sultryenterprise]

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[jarofstyles]

my favorite trope of all time… the forgotten birthday🙏🏼 or H standing yn up because he forgot abt a date👁

See this one personally hurts me bc it’s a fear but I will do it for you soldiers 🫡

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—-

She food was cold on the table.

Y/N was mortified. Embarrassed. Hurt. All of the emotions swimming in her chest as she looked at the meal she had ordered for Harry specifically. A 6 month anniversary wasn’t necessarily the biggest deal in the world but it had meant a lot to her. And to Harry too, supposedly. He had nuzzled her in bed just a few weeks prior talking about how the time had flown by, how they’d been dating for nearly 6 months and how smitten he was with her. How he wanted to do something.

So Y/N had suggested and planned their date. Harry had been all for it, smile wide when she had told him she had managed to make the reservations for the new place they’d been driving past and had been booked up for weeks. It had seemed so perfect.

But now she was sat alone at a table for two, Harry’s meal cold and untouched as her own had barely been eaten. The waitress had been exceptionally sweet, though she could see pity in her eyes as she brought her another round of bread and asked if she was alright. Y/N supposed she had seen a few stand ups in her times as a server but not after how animatedly Y/N had shown up and explained her boyfriend would be a bit late and it was their anniversary.

2 hours of waiting she had admitted defeat. Unanswered texts and calls littered Harry’s phone but she could see they were delivered. She switched to instagram as she waited for the check and to go boxes when her heart sank.

Clicking on the story of their mutual friend, there in a video of the pub just a few minutes from his flat was Harry. Drinking a pint, laughing, having a good time in the pan around the scene as their friend showed off their fun evening out. It wasn’t their fault, of course. They didn’t know that this broke her into pieces, but hearing his laugh above the pub chatter had her heart sinking and not lightening as it usually did.

He was out having a ball, forgotten about their night and ignoring, seemingly, his girlfriend as she stupidly waited in a fancy restaurant in a dress and expensive lingerie she had bought as well. The dinner wasn’t cheap, none of it was.

The waitress gave her a soft smile as she returned, placing her hand on her shoulder as she saw the tears glittering in her waterline. “I’m sorry your night didn’t go as planned. I know it won’t make up for it but I snuck a dessert for you in there on me.” She gave a gentle squeeze before returning her card to her.

It was when Y/N had already arrived home that she got a call back from Harry.

“Hello?” She timidly answered, feet aching as she kicked off her heels.

“Babe! I saw you called me, what’s up? M’sorry, was wearing the thick jeans and I didn’t feel it buzz.” He apologized. Though when it was silent for a moment he stopped his chuckle and moved into the hallway. She could hear the noises get fainter of the pub chatter. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

A sniffle broke through the line and it made him panic. Harry hated when Y/N cried. “Oi, baby, what’s the matter? What’s goin’ on?” He tried again.

“Do you know what day it is today, Harry?” She whispered, upset beyond belief. He was tipsy and he didn’t even seem to know what was wrong. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

“Erm… it’s Friday? What’s tha’ got to do with anything?” He was confused, leaning against the wall of the hallway as he tried to gather his bearings.

“The date, Harry. The date.” She snipped, anger starting to rise through her hurt. Of course she had been the one to plan it but he had been seemingly excited for it too. She should have known he forgot when she woke up to nothing to other than a morning text.

He froze over the line, exiting the call screen to look at his calendar before freezing.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

His throat tightened and his body went cold as he put pieces together. What the date was, why she was upset, and how late it was. Nearly midnight. He had fucked up.

“Oh- fuck. Baby- fuck me.” He whispered. “Baby- shit. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, all tipsiness seemingly leaving his body as the shock was enough to sober him up. “Oh my god… shit. The reservations-“ he swallowed thickly, slumping back against the wall as he ran a hand down his face.

“Yeah.” Her voice was small. “I waited for 2 and a half hours for you.”

He had fucked up immensely.

“Angel… Christ, I can’t even….” He felt sick. Disappointing her, making her upset was something he never ever wanted to do. Especially when she had been so excited. He had been too, of course, he loved milestones with her. But this one seemed important. Half a year. Both of them together for that long?

And he had just majorly fucked up. If his stomach hurt already for just this information, he couldn’t imagine how anxious she had been waiting for him and not getting any texts or calls back. He was at a fucking pub with their mates, clueless.

“And I was in the Restaurant with all these people looking at me with pity, and your food sat cold because I ordered for you…” she sniffled, piercing his heart. His thoughtful fucking girl. “N’I go on instagram and see Hannah’s post and see you just laughing at the pub. And….” That broke the tears into a sob, making his body feel physically sick. He’d been the one to upset her this time.

“Oh no… baby, fuck. I’m so sorry. I can’t make excuses… I can’t bare to hear you cry like that. M’coming to see you, okay? I’ll leave-“

“No.” She sobbed out. “Don’t wanna see you right now. I want to be alone like I was all night anyways. You can’t make me feel better right now.” She managed out between cries. That hurt worse than anything else to him. Harry could always make it better for her. He hadn’t been the cause of such upset before and it was killing him. An oversight of epic proportions on the worst possible day to do so. It wasn’t a normal date, it was a huge one.

“Y/N…” he rasped. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop saying it. I want to make it better but if you don’t want me there I won’t come. I feel sick. I never meant to do this. I thought it was in two days… it doesn’t make it any better but my days are messed up. Im two days behind in my mind but I should have known better. I had plans for us too…” the flower delivery was scheduled for Sunday, too. Shit. “The flowers! They’ll be there on Sunday. I promise im not lying. It doesn’t make it any better but I’d never do it on purpose.”

That was something she knew, too. Harry wasn’t an asshole in general but he got in his head and caught up a lot and she had to pay the consequences. Especially today.

“Okay.” Her tired, croaky voice sounded out. “I want to go to bed. I don’t… please don’t come over, Harry.” Harry. Not H. She was really upset.

“I won’t. I’ll wait in the morning for you to text me, baby angel. Okay? I swear… I am so sorry. I love you so much. I’ll be waiting for your text. “

[chrisevansjellybeans]

Promotion | Ransom Drysdale

You get a promotion at work but the celebration doesn't go exactly as planned. Ransom has the perfect way to make it up to you.

Warnings: smut, swearing, ransom being ransom but then soft!ransom

Everyone knew that Ransom Drysdale was an asshole. He was mean, sarcastic and blunt to almost everyone he met. But not with you. Sure, he had his moments but for the most part the Ransom Drysdale you knew, your Ransom, was kind, caring and attentive. He made you smile when you were sad. He would always rest his hand on your thigh when the two of you would take drives in his Beemer. And if you asked extra nicely, he would sometimes share his secret talent of playing the piano for you. To you, Ransom was the perfect gentleman.

Except for tonight.

“You’re being a fucking bitch right now, Y/N.” He snapped as he threw his coat over the chair in the corner of your shared room.

“Oh I’m being a bitch because I don’t want you flirting with the goddamn waitress right in front of me?”

He rolled his eyes as he unhooked his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. “You caused a scene.”

You let out a humorless laugh as you attempted-and failed-to unzip your dress.

“A scene? Ransom, I very nicely asked her to back off. You think that was a scene? I could have given you a whole Broadway musical if I wanted to.” You hissed, cursing as you still struggled with the dress.

Ransom grumbled as he stomped over to you and unzipped the stubborn zipper. You didn’t even bother to say thank you as you yanked off the dress and threw it on the floor. You could feel the tears welling up, but you refused to let them fall. Tonight was supposed to be special. You had just gotten a promotion at work. One that you had been working your ass off for the last three months. And now the whole night was marred by an argument that didn’t need to happen.

“God, you are so insecure. It was nothing.” Ransom’s glare was heated as he took in the deep maroon lingerie set you had underneath.

“Why are you being such a dick?” You spun around, angrily wiping away the few tears that fell. “You ruined tonight for me.”

“You ruined it yourself, sweetheart. Grow up.” He snapped. He gave you one last look before walking into the closet and changing into a pair of joggers and a crew neck.

You stood there in utter disbelief. Ransom was never like this with you in the last two years that you had been with him. Had everything before this just been an act?

Ransom completely ignored you as he moved about the room getting ready for bed.

“I can’t believe you.” You muttered. Slowly you began getting ready for bed yourself. You walked into the closet and took off the lingerie, your tears falling as you did so. You carefully set it back in the beautiful box it came in and shoved it to the back of your stuff. You threw on a pair of shorts and one of Ransom’s old hoodies, his scent wrapping you in the hug that he sure as hell wasn’t going to give you.

When you walked out he was already in bed, his reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose which was buried in a book. Silently you walked past him and finished your night routine in the bathroom. When you finished brushing your teeth and washing your face you looked in the mirror and winced. You looked exactly how you felt: tired and sad. Your eyes were puffy and red and your cheeks stained with tear trails. You splashed some cold water on your face hoping it would help but it didn’t do much.

Ransom was in the same position when you exited the bathroom. You walked over to your side of the bed but didn’t get in.

“What are you doing?” His voice was still sharp as he let out a sigh and set his book down on his lap.

Your eyes snapped to his and you just shook your head. You grabbed your phone and the glass of water that was on your nightstand.

“I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“Now you’re really being dramatic.” He laughed. “So just calm down and get in bed."

“Do not talk to me like that, Hugh.” Ransom’s eyes widened slightly at the use of his first name. “I love you but you have been nothing but terrible to me tonight. And I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you that you can’t let one night be about me and my achievements, but I’m so done with it. So I’m going to the guest room because honestly the thought of laying next to you right now is the last thing I want to do.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond as you stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you. Your hand was shaking as you took it from the door. For a moment you didn’t move, waiting to see if he would come for you. But he didn’t. So you straightened yourself up and walked down the hall to your room for the night.

-------

You tossed around the bed, unable to find a comfortable sleeping position. You let out a frustrated sigh as you turned on the bedside lamp. Tears of frustration, sadness and tiredness came to the surface once again but this time you didn’t hold them back. You brought your knees to your chest as you cried into them.

“Baby?” You sniffed and looked up to see Ransom slowly opening the door.

“Go away, Ransom.” You mumbled. You could not go another round with him. Not anymore.

“Honey, I’m so sorry.” He ignored your command and walked over slowly before sitting down next to you on the side of the bed. His hand hesitantly reached forward and brushed the hair that had fallen in your face away before using his thumb to wipe your tears.

“Whatever.”

“It’s not whatever. You were right, Y/N. I was being terrible and for no reason.” He tilted your head up so your eyes met his. You could see the genuine regret that shined through his blue orbs.

“You really hurt me tonight, Ran.” You could feel more tears coming.

“I know, baby. I know.” He frowned as he looked down, the shame eating away at him.

“And I’m not insecure in our relationship. Or I wasn’t...If anything you’ve brought me out of my shell. I just-I feel like it’s a normal reaction to be pissed that your boyfriend is flirting with another woman right in front of you.” Your bottom lip trembled as you defended yourself.

“Oh baby, I didn’t mean it.” He looked back at you. “Everything I said back there I didn’t mean. And that waitress had nothing on you. I shouldn’t have let her flirt with me like that and I shouldn’t have indulged in it.”

“No you shouldn’t have.” You sighed, looking away.

The both of you were quiet as you sat there, his hand now resting on your knee as he traced small patterns with his fingers. You could feel him watching you but you couldn’t look back at him.

“Come back to bed.” He said finally. “Be mad in the morning, but please come back to bed. Let me hold my girl on her big day.”

You wanted to protest but honestly you couldn’t sleep without him.

“Please.” His voice cracked as he squeezed your knee.

You nodded and he gave you a small smile. He stood up and held out his hand. Taking it, your body relaxed as he intertwined your fingers and pulled you close to him. His other hand dipped behind your neck and brought your lips up to his as he gave you a gentle kiss.

“I love you. And tomorrow is all about you. From start to finish.” He whispered as he pulled away, his nose and yours still touching.

“Okay.” You smiled. He smiled back and turned off the lamp before guiding you back to the room.

Once you both were snuggled into your bed, Ransom pulled you close so his body was hugging yours. He peppered kisses down your neck muttering “I love you” between each one. His hand that was resting on your tummy slowly moved down, rubbing lightly over your covered mound.

“Ransom.” You moaned quietly as you lightly bucked your hips.

“Shh, baby. Let me take care of you. Show you how sorry I am.” He murmured against your neck. He slipped his hand into your shorts and he let out a small chuckle.

“No panties? What happened to that sexy set you had on earlier?” He nipped at your ear. His fingers moved down and to his amusement he felt your juices coat his fingers.

“Mmmm. You gotta earn seeing that set now.” You hummed.

“Touché.” He laughed. He ran his hand over your clit and gave it a light tap. “You’re so wet, baby.”

“Ransom, please!” You pleaded.

“You want my fingers in this pussy, honey?” He shoved his leg between yours, opening you up more as he pushed one finger in. You threw your head back as he tortured you with slow thrusts of his finger.

“It’s not enough!” You whined, your hips desperately moving with his hand.

“You want two?” He smirked, slipping another finger in. His thumb made right circles over your clit. “Or maybe three?”

You let out a loud moan as another finger was added. He stretched you out as he continued whispering dirty things into your ear.

“Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, baby.”

“Look at you, falling apart on my hand like a good girl.”

“Fuck you’re so goddamn tight, princess. Squeezing my fingers like the good little girl you are.”

“Ransom, please. No more teasing.” You whimpered. You turned your head and captured his lips with yours. It was not a pretty kiss; teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance which eventually he won.

“Whatever my baby wants.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out. Your body buzzed with anticipation as Ransom maneuvered your body so you were under him and he was hovering over you. He slid your shorts down your legs and pulled your shirt off, his hands brushing across your nipples as he dragged them down your body. Swiftly he flipped you over so your chest was flush against the mattress, your ass in the air.

“My beautiful, special girl.” He muttered to himself.

“Baby.” You whined impatiently.

“I am so proud of you,” he grabbed his cock and lined it up with your entrance. Leaning down he rubbed the tip of his engorged member through your wetness. “You know that don’t you?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond as he sunk fully into you. You gasped, arching your back and pushing back against his hips. Ransom pulled out just enough to leave the tip in before slamming back into you.

“You feel so good, princess.” He cooed, his thumb brushing over your puckered hole. You let out another whine as his motions remained deep and slow.

“Harder, Ransom. Faster.” Wiggled your butt impatiently.

Ransom growled as leaned forward, his arms entrapping you as his chest laid heavy on your back. The vulgar sound of his cock sliding easily in and out of your warm heat had you nearing your release

“Look at me, baby. I wanna see you when you come.” He moaned out. You turned your head, your lips falling open as you took in his lust blown eyes. Ransom captured your lips in a heated kiss. “Let go for me, honey.”

Your body writhed as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure he was giving you. Ransom raised himself up and continued to fuck you through your orgasm, pulling you to another one.

“Fuck!” Ransom’s hips stuttered as he splayed his hands over your ass. He let out a low groan as he spilled himself inside of you.

Ransom fell to the side of you, pulling you close to his chest. You let out a contented sigh as he ran his fingers up and down your arm.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into the dark room. Even in the dead of night you could feel the intense gaze of his blue eyes.

“I know, Ran. I forgive you.” You kissed his chest, your fingers now toying with the small tufts of chest hair that you loved so much.

“I love you.” He muttered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too. Now get some sleep because we are shopping all day tomorrow.” You teased, knowing full well that a day spent at the shops was the last thing Ransom liked to do.

Instead of a groan, Ransom let out a laugh as he kissed you again. “Can’t wait.”

[pillow-anime-talk]

daddy, please.

synopsis: “Hey, daddy. I have a little surprise for you.”

# tags: headcanons + scenarios; current relationships & crush culture & sponsorship; romance; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex and sexual activities, daddy kink, size kink, lingerie, pet names & more

includes: female reader ft. rei amayado, hitoya amaguni & jakurai jinguji {hypmic}

author’s note: let’s fucking gooooo!!! here are my wet thoughts and dreams 😳🤚 don’t judge me, pls.

— REI

↘ You met each other at one night when Sasara took Rei and Rosho to a small but very nice bar on the outskirts of the city. Of course, the green-haired twenty-six-year-old praised the local alcohol and service earlier, so his two friends had no choice but to agree to a few drinks and many hours of talks about their group, work or other life difficulties.

↘ Then you appeared in front of three men as an extremely enchanting and full of smile barmaid; you charmed two new guests. Two, because you knew the leader of Dotsuitare Hompo for several days by served him the best and strongest alcohols and small starters. So now, everyone was delighted with you, which is why they showed up at your bar more and more. Rei himself was there practically every day, and you quickly got used to the presence of his deep voice, the same orders and nice, sometimes confident compliments or small gifts that were of unknown origin.

↘ You couldn’t hide that his person also interested you indescribably. He was so damn handsome, and literally no one of your age could compare to his extravagant outfits, silly smirk or the way he held a cigarette between his long fingers.

↘ And when one day he brushed a few stray hairs from your pretty face and tied them up with a golden hairpin – or rather another, new present for you – your cheeks were never as red as at that moment.

↘ Of course, he was much older than you, but it didn’t make you feel bad; how could you feel like this when Rei often walked you home or just asked about how you were doing in college and work? The fact that the bar was practically empty that evening resulted in an honest, lengthy conversation in which you admitted that you have a hard time trying to reconcile so many things at once. You didn’t want to be a ‘victim’, but you admitted that your parents rarely helped you, so you lived and supported yourself completely alone.

↘ Rei thought it was a good time to offer you some help; he asked if you would like to ‘work’ for him, so you could earn more while not overworking your body like you would when you were a barmaid or waitress. This proposition caught your interest, so you nodded, still ruddy on your both cheeks. Meanwhile, Rei took off his sunglasses, making eye contact with you; his orbs were more than mesmerizing.

↘ “... I’m a little old now and well... Wouldn’t you just like to come live with me and spend your free time with me? I must admit that having such a cute doll would be really worth coming home every night.”

↘ You would be an idiot if you didn’t agree to the offer of the man you liked from the first appearance at the bar, where he always ordered golden whiskey or bourbon.

↘ In addition, the gifts you got from him... were so wonderful and always suited your taste, so you were curious what else the older conman could give you.

↘ As it turned out, entering into this seemingly innocent relationship with the dark-haired one was the best thing you could have had.

*:･ﾟ✧*

Rei always came home around eleven at night, and you were always waiting for him patiently; sometimes with a good book in hand and sometimes with a glass of wine, relaxing in front of your favorite series or movie. On that day, however, you wanted to surprise him pleasantly and thank him for the last few weeks during which you lived as you never dreamed of before; after all, you could use his money and credit cards, his whole house, his cars, his everything without worrying about anything but your own studies, which you still attended.

Therefore, covered with a delicate, white bathrobe that showed through your lace lingerie, you waited for the arrival of your lover. You knew that he would bring you a gift as every day – a watch, new shoes, a bracelet or an invitation to the SPA, that’s why you wanted to pay him back this evening, obviously with your tiny, magnificent body marked with countless bites, bruises and colorful marks.

When you heard the sound of the key and the door opening, your legs tightened and you felt a feeling of uncertainty in your heart, but also of great exhilaration. You quickly got up from the black, leather couch and then moved towards the hall to greet the black-haired man. Your tender voice reached Rei’s ears, who turned to you with his signature smirk. However, seeing your current outfit, his facial expressions changed immediately. Still, this didn’t demotivate you before your next step.

“Hi, daddy, I’ve been waiting for you. Do you want to spend some time with me, please?” Looking innocently at him and flapping your eyelashes you instantly made his pants tight. A second later, he approached you, not caring about his favorite hat fell on the wooden floor.

“You look as beautiful as always, my pretty doll.” He said in a warm tone of voice, cupping your soft face with his big, right hand. His strong grip on your cheeks caused big and hot blush. “I didn’t expect you to call me that. It’s quite brave, don’t you think?”

“You don’t like it, daddy? Should I speak to you differently? By your first name or something else?”

“No. Of course that I like it. You don’t even know how much I like it, doll. I’m so fucking hard thanks to you, you know? So what are you going to do with it now, baby?” He asked, sticking his thumb in your wet mouth. You politely sucked his finger, still staring into his glowing with excitement eyes.

Your hand, in meantime, found a bulge on the white fabric, causing a low hiss from the forty-six-year-old.

“I want to make my daddy feel good, so... can I sit on you, daddy? I want your fat dick in my little pussy, daddy. I was polite, I swear by my little finger.”

Of course you were. 

Rei had no doubts about it, so he willingly gave you everything you wished for tonight; all he wanted in return was for you to keep calling him by that lascivious phrase, because... well, well, well. It turned out that he had a huge kink for it.

— HITOYA

↘ Your first meeting was in a sense accidental, but at the same time it wasn’t something unusual or unimaginable; sooner or later you would meet your little brother’s two best friends, and that it happened faster than you thought, it’s just a funny twist of fate.

↘ Jyushi on that sunny day asked you to bring him lunch to the place indicated in the text message. Knowing that he would be as always spending time with the two men he often told you about, you decided to make dinner for all of them. So you prepared three large bentos filled with white rice, fried chicken, broccoli and in each plastic wrapper you put a small chocolate cupcake, because you baked a large amount of them the day before. You also got them something to drink, in this case it was iced, peach tea in a bottles. Ready, you could meet with your two years younger brother and his friends from the rap team.

↘ Kuko liked you right away. He had a lot of respect for you because you were a year older than him, but he was also eager to joke that you were completely unlike your siblings; you were much shorter, a little calmer and more open to new friends. You shrugged with amusement at this sentence, in meantime trying to calm your brother, who blushed furiously on both cheeks and the tips of his ears.

↘ On the other hand, Hitoya was watching you closely; maybe he did it because of his lawyer work, but he couldn’t hide the fact that it was nice to watch your gentle smile, your reddish face and how you took care of your brother and also of the second, younger than you teenager.

↘ Over time, the thirty-five-year-old noticed how tired you seemed to be because of working, studying, cleaning the house, making lunch or shopping. Of course, every time a man politely asked you if you were feeling well, you assured him that yes, you were fine and it was just bad weather or atmospheric pressure. But, oops. You couldn’t cover the bags under your eyes and pale skin with even the best cosmetics.

↘ “Let me take care of you, okay?” It was an innocent request that slowly turned into something more. Naturally, at first Hitoya just offered you mental support and money to pay fee for an apartment and shopping. But then, his hands started rubbing your tense back and more and more invisible traces of sweet kisses appeared on your forehead.

↘ You didn’t even notice when you started looking at a handsome lawyer as a potential partner, and when your heart was beating much faster when you had the opportunity to call him or read the messages he sent you.

↘ You confessed your feelings to him first because you couldn’t stand the rising warmth in your heart when an older man took you on his lap or when he brought home your favorite junk food and wine to celebrate your passed exams or his own, successful trials. He spoiled you so badly and thanks to this you finally felt appreciated and felt what you have been missing over the years, and it was a feeling of indescribable protection and loyalty.

↘ You wondered how you should thank for all of this because you had nothing to offer but yourself.

*:･ﾟ✧*

It was a stupid thought that had haunted you from the last week. Last Wednesday you read an erotic book in which the main, female character called her partner ‘master’ and it was something new for you, something very interesting. However, the word ‘master’ itself wasn’t as encouraging as ‘owner’ or ‘daddy’, which was definitely more suited to the delicate personality and sense of safety that Hitoya gave you from the beginning of your relationship. That’s why you’ve read a few articles on role-playing in bed, and you had to admit that the thought of calling your man ‘daddy’ made a strange feeling of warmth and wet between your legs. You had to take a few deep breaths when you ordered on Tuesday afternoon a pretty, slightly pink lingerie that your lover would definitely like.

Three days later, on Friday, when Hitoya was at work, you at the same time were preparing your whole body and mind for what should be coming around 8pm. You took a relaxing bath, you used a goat’s milk lotion, you loosened your muscles with one glass of dry red wine, and created a sensual playlist with songs that were more than perfect for night with your beloved one.

At twenty minutes past eight you heard the characteristic clatter of shoes in the hall, and your arms tensed slightly in anticipation of your lover; but still, you were still sitting politely on the bed. Your body was surrounded by a delicate lace, and you also hung a cute collar with a metal heart around your colorful neck. You heard Hitoya pacing around the kitchen, living room and bathroom, less than a quarter of an hour later the door to your enormous bedroom opened and you looked shyly at the man who stood with a brown towel wrapped around his thin waist. Seeing you, his left eyebrow lifted and a small smirk appeared on his front.

“Oi, oi?”

“Surprise?” You looked hesitantly into his light green eyes, and then your face flushed at the sight of the towel under which an huge erection began to form. “I... I just wanted to give you some joy as a thank you for what you do for me all the time... daddy.”

Hearing how sweet you pronounce the last word, your partner’s smile only widened. Slowly, but confidently, he moved towards the king sized bed, and as he sat down next to you, his hand was immediately on your smooth, pouty cheek.

“Just being here with me is joy enough for me, darling. But thank you for dressing up so gorgeous for me. Daddy is very, very happy.” You breathed a sigh of relief to hear that the two of you are playing the same game.

“So... could you please lie down, daddy?” You asked softly, and your loved one’s hand moved much lower to your waist, and then to your hot thigh as well. He squeezed the skin lightly and you sighed with satisfaction. “I... Umm...”

“I know you probably wanted to please me tonight, but... But when I look at you, my pretty one, I can’t let you do that. I prefer to take care of you, so will you let me do it?” The warm look that was sent to you from the older man made you jump slightly, nodding your head. “Good girl. Open your legs for your daddy, dear.”

— JAKURAI

↘ You started working in a hospital as part of extra-curricular activities at your university. You quickly liked all the staff, and your warm, even captivating personality added joy to everyone in the building; doctors, other nurses and patients, especially children who considered you ‘super onee-chan’. So Jakurai was no exception and was very eager to answer all your curious questions, as well as the gentle smiles you would send him whenever you passed each other in a bright hallway or doorway, when you finished or started work at the same time and shift.

↘ Sometimes he also helped you with the material for your classes, so that you would get even better grades and join the work in the hospital permanently.

↘ Jakurai liked you a lot, maybe a little more than ‘a lot’, because the fact was that he cared very much about your well-being and whether you were feeling well in the hospital, in your clothes, in your office. He has always asked you how your day or night has been, if you have anything to eat or drink, when you finish your work that day or if you are staying overtime, and even if you want him to walk you home or go with you to the store for shopping. You were totally and irreversibly charmed by it, but you didn’t think that something more would come out of your relation. So you continued to act as before, just thinking it was his natural behavior towards younger women.

↘ But then Jakurai tried to change your job position and you became his assistant who spent more time with him than before. So you talked even more lively and longer than normal, and sometimes after work, if you both had some free time, you would go for a walk to talk about something more peaceful and down-to-earth; about your favorite types of teas or coffees, about the countries you visited, about your favorite music, even about the worst alcoholic drinks you have had the opportunity to try in your lifetime.

↘ With the passing of time, you started going to your apartments on weekends to watch a random movie, cook dinner or bake a cake together. From time to time, if the weather was good, the thirty-five-years-old also took you to the lake and thus shared his passion for fishing with you. You felt really special with the thought that you were the only girl in his environment who could and was so close to him.

↘ The fact that he would sometimes buy you small gifts such as jewelry, science books, or pay for your shopping at the gallery was an added bonus of being able to feel like someone really, like really special to him.

↘ And at the same moment, you felt indescribably safe in his company – Jakurai was unusually tall compared to you, and his soft, warm hands perfectly suited to your small head or tiny body that he stroked every time you did something right or when you passed another exam in a row. He was a bit like an older brother, supportive father, vacation/summer lover, and longtime partner. You have never felt so loved and respected as with him.

↘ That’s why one evening, when you were spending time at your home cooking Italian pasta (it was his idea, btw!), you didn’t notice at what point your attention was shifted from arranging plates and cutlery to his handsome face and focused eyes that looked at the boiling sauce. He was definitely perfect in every way, both inside and outside, and you would be really pathetic not to admit that you had crush on him... or even you were in love with him. Naturally, your staring at his body didn’t go unnoticed. Jakurai chuckled under his breath as his head turned towards you.

↘ “Do you like what you see?”

↘ “Yes, daddy.”

↘ You turned pale and panicked when you understood what you said.

↘ However, Jakurai didn’t seem to be angry, disappointed or disgusted with you. On the contrary. The man turned off the cooking red sauce, improved the locks of hair falling on his pale face, then moved away from the burners, walking towards you. You automatically stepped back, of course, but when his smooth hand was on your cheek, you knew you could still feel safe and valuable with him.

*:･ﾟ✧*

“... So you like talking to men like that?”

“N-No, I don’t know what got into me, really. It was the first time in my life...! You’re just so nice to me, you always buy me so many things and I... I don’t know. If it was uncomfortable for you, I’m so terribly sorry and I promi...” You started, feeling again that what you did wasn’t quite right, but at some point Jakurai put his long, index finger to your soft mouth and you calmed down immediately, looking up into his warm, understanding and gentle amusement, blue eyes.

“I didn’t say it bothered me. Why don’t we talk about it on the sofa?” The low voice reached your ears one more time, and you nodded hesitantly.

You wanted to sit on your regular place next to the fluffy, gray pillow, but the man frowned as he patted his both, huge thighs. You blushed immediately, but obediently took your seat next to his crotch. You could swear he was already hard, that’s why your pussy got wet.

“I have long wondered if you like me any different than as a coworker and friend. Because you see, kitten, I personally thought of you more than you might think.” He smiled slightly and you bit your lower, sweet lip between your teeth, nodding your head once again in confirmation of his words.

It took a while to get your mind ready to answer, but after a few longer seconds you turned your head towards a calm and masculine face, admitted that you also thought about him and about whether he will accept your feelings, if you ever confess them. Your pinkish cheeks and glowing eyes were by far the most wonderful thing Dr. Jinguji had ever seen. So he was the first to take your heated left cheek, then close his own eyes, pressing his lips to yours. His free, other hand moved to your right thigh and squeezed the soft skin covered with the fabric of a skirt. A few moments later, you moaned as warm fingers touched your cool skin. Jakurai lost his mind.

“Have you ever touched yourself while you thinking of me, princess?”

“I... Well, I...” You moved away from his mouth, and then you felt your ears and the tip of your nose burn with shame and delight. “Yes, daddy. Three times. B-But my fingers were never enough. I prefer your cock, daddy. It certainly is fat and big, and perfect for my little pussy that has never be fucked by such a mature and gorgeous man.”

“Oh, my love. Daddy’s cock will definitely be perfect for you.” His hands passed under the light blue fabric of your clothes, and after a short while, picked up the colored material. “Hmm. I feel that this situation was planned. Am I wrong?” He stated by touching his finger to your still wet slit, which was covered with white lace. You blushed once more, but you didn’t have a chance to respond to that remark, because your lips again tasted the lips of a man fourteen years older than you who after a quick moment laid your fragile body on the dark couch.

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART VIII — masterlist

concept: for your birthday, chris takes you to a burlesque club, where you reunite with anthony and sebastian. the first kiss. the slowest of slow burns. part nine of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: strip tease, kissing, aNgSt

author's note: nothing i can say will prepare you for the rollercoaster you are about to endure. i hate myself for doing this to you. ya girl really popped tf off on this one.

Looking at Christopher Robert Evans, you wouldn't expect him to be someone who happened to frequent burlesque clubs.

You also wouldn't expect him to have so many tattoos, but that's what a good long sleeve jacket was for.

It would be dangerous for anyone to assume anything about Christopher Robert Evans. And yet, assumptions were made... Just like how you had assumed he would forget your birthday.

It wasn't an unfair assumption, by any means. You had only been living together for about six months, of which he was only there for a few days at a time, before jetting back out to whatever location his film shoot was at.

You were close, but at the same time, not close at all.

It was hard to think of where you stood – neither one of you could really answer that question, and should anyone corner you both separately, you'd both resignedly sigh and claim "just friends."

That was why his gift surprised you on two different levels:

One, he had remembered your birthday. Perfectly friendly enough.

Two, he had gifted you something not quite friendly in the slightest... And that was where waters got murky. But you'd be fucked if you didn't admit just how willing you were to wade into those waters – murky or not.

The box had been delivered to the house late in the morning. Chris had been gone for just over a month this time – 46 days, you were unashamedly keeping count – and his absence didn't go by unnoticed.

Everything reminded you of him, even if he didn't spend a lot of time there.

The box had been from La Perla, and just the name – gold embossed on cream – elicited a visceral reaction of excitement.

You signed for it – a little too eagerly, given the delivery boy's eyebrow raise – before dashing inside to open it.

And now, there it sat, on your bed, silk ribbon still intact.

You weren't unfamiliar with the forever coveted – and forever out of your price range – Italian lingerie brand. But knowing it was from Chris... Your fingers inched towards the ribbon.

Your phone rang, rescuing you from letting your imagination run too wild. Checking the caller I.D., you faltered. It was him.

"Hello?"

"{Your name}! Hey." If you shut your eyes, you could see his smile. "Did you get the gift?"

"Yeah," you responded, a bit more breathless than you would've liked. "Looking at it right now, actually."

"And? What do you think?"

You hadn't the heart to tell him you hadn't opened it yet. "It's..."

You heard a familiar voice in the background. Two of them, actually. "Who's that?" "Is that {your name}? Hey, yo, {your name}! Happy birthday!"

"Guys, cut it out!" Chris laughed, the reciever crackling a little. You could only imagine what was transpiring on the other end: Chris trying to wrangle himself free from his friends all clamouring to get a word in over the phone he was holding just out of reach.

You giggled. "Is that Mackie?"

"Yeah, and Seb. I'm on set with them right now. Decided to drop by, say hi to everyone. Try and convince those two delinquents to come out tonight, but after they heard where I was taking you, it wasn't much of a task. Just managed to sweet talk the producers into getting them the night off."

"It better be great tonight, Kevin really wasn't impressed!" You could hear Seb's muffled shouts from across the room, followed by a "quiet on set!" from a voice you didn't recognize.

Silence was instantaneous from the clamour you had almost gotten used to from the other end.

"Hold on," Chris' voice was hushed. "Gonna get out of their hair before they start filming again..."

You found yourself perching restlessly on the edge of your bed as you waited for Chris to return to the call. There was some shuffling on his end, quiet apologies whispered to passing strangers he was trying to skirt past.

When he got back, he was speaking normally again. "About the gift. It's a bit much, I know. Not exactly Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge! but I know how much you love that film, so I thought it'd be fun if tonight... Well, if tonight we visited something close to it."

"You're not taking me to France, are you?" Your heart was in your throat, hoping he'd say no. Not that you wouldn't love to go, it was just that you weren't ready to make a trip that big any time soon. The panic of packing would be all consuming, and that was the last thing you wanted to be doing on your birthday.

His laugh was infectious. "God, no. In this economy?"

"So, where are you taking me, then?" Your eyes had narrowed in suspicion.

"Think Moulin Rouge, but smaller and more local."

"Oh..." There was one name that came to mind – Vulpecula, the Latin word for "little fox". A burlesque club, every bit as elite as the club you used to be a waitress at.

"Oh," he agreed. Even over the phone you could see the smug smile on his face. He had recalled you mentioning how you'd always wanted to go there, but could never get in. The moment he heard that, about four months prior, he had excused himself from the conversation – having given you some perfectly justifiable explanation at the time, reasonable enough for you to not suspect anything different – and promptly booked a front seat table there for your birthday. "So, listen, I'll be home in... Let's see, they have an hour left here before they wrap, from Georgia to L.A., that's four, maybe five hours...? So let's say no more than seven hours? I should be home by dinner, have a quick shower, and be ready to meet Seb and Anthony at Vulpecula around nine for the reservation. Sound good?"

That was in... One glance at the clock on your bedside table confirmed it. Ten hours time by the looks of it.

Ten hours was more than enough time for you to pick something Vulpecula worthy and get ready. You hoped. "Sounds good."

"Alright, see you in a bit."

You said your goodbyes, the thrill of finally going to a burlesque club beginning to rise. Your thumb hovered over the "end call" button, about to press, when Chris interjected one last time.

"Oh, and {your name}? Happy birthday."

———————

True to his word, Chris was home for dinner. "Dinner" being two pizzas balancing precariously in one scopic hand – held aloft, well out of Dodger's eager jumping reach – and roses clutched firmly in the other.

"You're back."

His face lit up at your presence, tired eyes becoming wide awake once more. "Hey there, birthday girl."

You let him put down the pizza and flowers first before you sprinted into his arms. The scent that you could only reconcile with airplanes from his flight clung to him, but if you inhaled deeper, the smell that was so distinctly Chris was there too.

He chuckled, hugging you back every bit as enthusiastically, even going so far as to pick you up and spin you around, Dodger yapping excitedly at the situation.

"I missed you, you asshole."

"I missed you too," he sighed into your hair.

You pulled apart. "You have no idea how quiet it gets here when you're not around. I almost feel bad for the shampoo bottles, they haven't heard you sing in a month now and it's– What? What are you staring at?"

A stillness had overcome Chris as he held you at arm's length, hands resting just above your elbows. He was looking at you.

"Just you," he affirmed softly. There it was again, that smile. "You look gorgeous. Doesn't she look beautiful, bud?"

Dodger, suddenly bored of the interaction, dashed off to go retrieve some chew toy or another.

"Guess he doesn't think so," you shrugged, suddenly shy under that molten ocean gaze.

"Don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's talking about."

———————

Vulpecula didn't disappoint. Your eyes were wide in awe, almost wishing they were wider so as to take in as much as you possibly could. You were right by the stage, all of you seated in plush, velvet chairs. You sat around a gold and black vintage marble-top table cluttered with empty bottles and half full drinks.

Anthony and Seb – after showering you with birthday wishes and small gifts now residing in your discarded coat pockets – were reclined in their seats, drinks in hand, talking low to one another. You had heard a snippet of their conversation in passing. They had been debating how long you and Chris would last in this will they, won't they charade.

The very thought of a will they had your eyes rolling. As if that would ever happen. You didn't need to remind yourself: friends. Just friends, nothing more.

Sultry music, moody lighting, and the hint of wine and expensive perfume mingled with French cigarette smoke all invaded your senses.

"They look amazing up there," you whispered in reverence, eyes never leaving the dancers.

Chris leaned in, shoulder brushing yours. The natural magnetic pull he had on you snapped you out of your wonderstruck state, and you tilted your head to hear him better. His breath was hot against your ear as he struggled to be heard over the music. "Not as amazing as you look right now."

You shrugged the compliment off. It wasn't lost on you, the reason he enjoyed these types of clubs. "Yeah, but I could never do what they're doing right now."

"I don't know," he cajoled. "I've seen you dance before. You've got moves."

He was referring to one particular evening where you had decided to settle your differences over The Impromptu Never Have I Ever Swim™ – namely, who was at fault – with a dance battle. But that was nothing.

You quirked an inquisitive brow. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"No suggestions here," he said, hands raised in submission. "I'm just saying you've got moves."

At your scoff, he leaned in again. You weren't entirely oblivious; the implication of his words were crystal clear: "And you could out dance anybody in this room."

"Is that a challenge, Evans?" The smirk came easy to your wine darkened lips as you brought the flute of champagne to them for a sip. You had been rather indulgent in your mixing of alcohols all night, and compliance was becoming incredibly enticing.

"You can't compete where you don't compare, and these girls don't even come close."

The dismissive wave he gave the stage had caught the attention of Anthony and Seb, and they were now listening and watching intensely, both trying to hide their amusement behind their tumblers of whiskey.

"You are challenging me," you gasped in mock disbelief.

"If anything, it's a request," Anthony had attempted to disguise his commentary behind the whiskey glass, but had failed. The whole table had heard, earning him a slap on the arm from Seb and an amused quirk of your lips. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking. We're all thinking it."

"I'm not about to be sweet-talked into making a fool of myself by the likes of you, Christopher," you teased, turning your attention back to Chris.

He smirked. "I dare you."

"You really don't think I'll go up there." It was more a statement than anything. He knew the need to prove him wrong would heavily outweigh your dignity, and you hated that he knew that.

He shrugged, noncommittal, but still smirking. "I have no inclination to what you will or won't do."

That was it. The thread he'd been pulling at all night had finally unravelled, and it was probably the alcohol that had dulled your better judgement, but it was your birthday, for fuck sakes, and you felt like doing something memorable and insane.

"Guard my drink."

And then you were up, making your way to the dimly lit steps leading up to the stage.

If you had been there with anyone else, you would've been escorted out immediately. But that was the thing about loyal patronage, fame, and money... You could get away with almost anything. Your status was immediately elevated just by being in their company.

Seb watched you, mouth agape, as you sashayed to the front and centre. "Holy shit, she's doing it."

Uproarious applause met your arrival as your steps pulled the attention of the audience, but you could hear and see Anthony whoop in support above them all.

"How the hell did you pull this one off, Evans?" Anthony asked as he sat back down to enjoy the show, face laminated in a permanent smile.

"What can I say? I know my girl," Chris winked.

Seb sighed, digging some cash from his pocket. "You win, I guess," he grumbled as he handed over the money to Chris.

"That's mine, thank you." Anthony plucked it from Seb's fingertips. "You too, blue eyes. Hand it over."

"But I won," Chris all but pouted, confusion creasing his brow.

"You said you could get her up there with them in ten," Anthony corrected. "I said you could do it in five if she had the right amount of Moët in her. And would you look at that..." – he plucked the near empty bottle in question from the table to display to his friends – "the perfect amount of Moët."

Chris yielded. He fished some stray bills from his pocket and paid his fee.

The entire exchange was lost on you, however, as the song changed. There was a hush over the club as the music faded, and suddenly, there was a spotlight on you. The other dancers stood back, watching you in delight.

And then the music began to play.

And you began to move.

You were mesmerizing, incredible in your command of the stage. The sway of your rolling hips, the placement of your hands, roving over your body suggestively, but not overtly sexual. That was the beauty of burlesque – it was to sell sex without outright giving it, and it was as if you'd danced there your whole life, the way it flowed so naturally through you.

"Would you look at her up there?" Anthony breathed, something akin to pride in his eyes. Your relationship with the Falcon actor was strange – something close to siblings. Although, if you were to think about it, no big brother would ever be as proud as he was to be watching his little sister dancing at a burlesque club. It had been less about the dance, though – and all about the joy he could see emanating from you.

You liked being the centre of attention for one night. And you very much were.

The interaction at the table was practically forgotten as your friends stared up at you in admiration.

And when your hands traced your curves, moving languidly to the zipper at the side of your dress, Chris' breath visibly stuttered. And when the dress was slipping off of you – straps slinking off the delicate slope of your shoulders to allow the pooling of the fabric at your feet – Chris leaned forward in his seat, entirely bewitched.

You were wearing it – the lingerie he had bought for you.

It was a pretty little number – light champagne coloured silk, trimmed in black lace. It fit you like a glove, hanging off your frame in a way that revealed enough to stir a desire to see more, but not enough to have you shying away in discomfort in front of all the onlookers. The neckline was low, and the skirt fell just above mid thigh.

And still you danced, motions slow to the music, toying with the skirt, the straps, your hair. For that single moment, you were seduction incarnate.

He couldn't look away. You were everything in his world, the only thing in it. You were his world.

When you made eye contact with him, out in the darkness at the edge of the stage, he could've sworn he'd forgotten how to breathe.

You sank to your knees, sensual, undulating, gathering your now discarded dress. The smirk you had – so often teasing – was beckoning, mirroring the intent in your eyes.

You slowly dragged your eyes over Chris, taking in the state of him. What you had rendered him. The hold you had over him was tangible – the awed set of his agape jaw, the way his eyes were glazed with such intensity and want. It stirred something in you, something in the pit of your belly.

You cast him a coy wink before you lazily tossed the dress to him as if you hadn't a care in the world.

Sebastian sucked a whistling breath through his teeth when the song ended. "Who was that girl?"

Chris shifted in his seat, trousers having grown immeasurably uncomfortable. He found himself dumbfounded. "I have absolutely no idea."

———————

The excitement of the stage was still coursing through you when you returned to the table.

Anthony, who had rightfully given you a well-deserved standing ovation, gave you a massive bear hug that lifted you off the ground and had you giggling. "Wow," was all he said. And then, louder: "Wow!"

Nearby patrons cheered in agreement, and you felt your cheeks flush. "Stop it," you rolled your eyes.

"No, he's right," Seb smirked. "Isn't that right, Chris?"

Seb had tilted his head to peer at Chris past you and Mackie, cocky at having caught Chris out.

Chris – having crossed his legs to conceal the effect you had on him – could barely even look at you. "Yeah," he cleared his throat; it didn't help chase the rasp from his voice. "It was quite something."

You exchanged a slightly annoyed look with Anthony. "I don't see what your problem is, I was only doing what you wanted."

You plopped down in your seat, immediately taking a sip from your champagne. Chris' eyes followed your action, attentative – even more so when you caught a drop at the corner of your lips with your deft tongue.

As if he wasn't already hard enough.

And then his undoing – you spotted your dress. It was still exactly where it had landed when you'd tossed it, splayed across his lap. Unthinkingly, you reached for it, your fingers grazing his crotch and–

His hand shot forward, intercepting you, seizing your wrist in an iron grip. He looked to almost be in pain. "Don't."

What happened next, you didn't blame the alcohol this time, or the thrill the stage had left you with, or anything else. This was all you.

The air had been thick with desire – that all consuming want – and there was a glassiness in his blown out pupils – a need – that had spurred you on.

You grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him to you. Tilting forward, you captured his lips in a hungry starving kiss. He stiffened, before melting, becoming putty in your hands, kissing you back with a passion that set your entire soul and body ablaze. It was sloppy, liquor heavy on both your lips. He moaned into you, hot tongue swiping against the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Entrance which you granted, whimpering as he deepened the kiss.

You had clambered onto his lap in the frenzied urgency. The hiss of pleasure he gave at the slow grind of your hips against him was almost enough to make you come undone then and there.

Searing hands travelled your body, fingertips digging into soft flesh every time you rubbed against him just so. He traced your curves, encompassing all his hands could reach without ever crossing the line you so desperately wanted him to. He was a gentleman, first and foremost – although he kissed like he hoped to devour you.

Your own hands carded through his hair, tugging at the strands, eliciting throaty groans you never dreamed of hearing from him. His lips muffled every mewl of pleasure you emitted, and for that you were thankful, because once his hand came to rest around your throat, you knew you were done for.

"Fuck," he growled out against your lips.

You finally pulled apart, head swimming and breathless. "Let's get out of here."

He stared at you for the longest time. You, who looked so beautiful with your kiss swollen lips. You, who was sat in his lap, looking down at him, eyes telling innocence, but lips suggesting sin. You, who was finally his. "You must know what you're doing to me."

You stifled a moan as Chris tilted your head back, gently leaving a trail of featherlight kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your toes curled, and you knew that if someone were to ask you your name in that moment, you wouldn't be able to tell them. "And what's that?"

"Driving me fucking crazy."

———————

You were still in absolute disbelief, convinced you'd wake up and this would all be a dream.

But it wasn't a dream, and you were there, with him, and your lips still throbbed in the remembrance of that kiss...

"Hold on," you said. Chris reluctantly halted his steps, turning to look at you. "Just wait here, I need to go get my coat."

"Don't be long," he said, voice low and soft.

You gave him a goofy half smile, still kiss drunk. "No promises."

You dashed off to the coat check station, leaving Chris in the foyer.

Ten minutes, that was how long it took. That was the number you would put to the time it took for absolute devastation to occur.

It wasn't your fault there was a line at coat check. Just like it wasn't his fault he happened to run into a particularly gorgeous woman from his past in just those ten minutes.

"Chris Evans?"

He spun at the sound of his name ringing out in the empty foyer. The music of Vulpecula was still faintly going in the background, muffled by the gilded gold doors that granted entry.

"Hey! Long time no see," he grinned. "I haven't seen you since...? Wow, it must've been ages."

"Since we broke up, yeah," she nodded in slow agreement.

"How's," he snapped his fingers, hoping to jog his memory. "Don?"

"We broke up, actually. About a month ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." He made his consolation known through a friendly pat on the shoulder, thumb rubbing circles on the skin revealed by her sleeveless dress.

And it was at that moment you returned, seeing him and the woman, too close to be entirely platonic. He wasn't guilty of anything, you knew that. But the hand on the shoulder...

He hadn't noticed you yet, so you were given ample time to dissect the unfolding situation.

It dawned on you exactly why it bothered you so much. The way he was touching her, it was how he had touched you. Not in Vulpecula, no, but every day leading up to it. And it could've meant one of two things:

The first was that it was friendly. Suggesting that he had seen you as nothing more than a friend before... Before you'd fucked it up.

Or the second... That he had seen you as something more all along, and that was what he perceived her as right after that kiss you had both shared.

And honestly, you didn't know which was worse.

"I'm going to be in town for the next few days if you wanted to grab a drink and catch up..." You had stalked past them in that moment, coat draped over your arm, catching her words in passing.

Chris' eyes followed you as he spoke, distracted by your shift in mood. "I'm actually here with someone..."

He trailed off, watching as you didn't even look at him as you brushed past. "Um, hold that thought," he said, already starting to follow you out. Her entire existence was dismissed by his need to get to you and discover why you were suddenly giving him the cold shoulder. "It was great seeing you again, tell Don I say hi – wait, no, scratch that–!"

He was practically yelling over his shoulder as he chased you down. "{Your name!} Wait up!"

You didn't stop, but you were at a disadvantage – your heels, his long legs – and he caught up to you easily. His hand on your shoulder was enough to make you flinch. Who knew you could read so much into the touch of a shoulder? "Hey, what's wrong?"

Your heart could've broken at the gentleness of his voice. Could've. You'd steeled yourself already, and it was glaringly noticeable. "Nothing is wrong, Chris, forget it."

"Just wait–"

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder. "I said forget it."

"I won't," he stepped closer. "Not when I can see something is bothering you."

"Well, I will," you stated, voice flat. You turned away from him to continue your retreat. "Can we just go home?"

When he refused to budge – instead looking at you with those mournful blue eyes of his, you sighed, exasperation and a touch of anger laced through. Why were you so upset, anyways?

"Chris, I just want to go home. I'm tired and I want to get out of this ridiculous fucking outfit so please. Please can we go home?"

He watched as you backed away from him, already pushing open the foyer door to step out onto the curb. His voice was so soft when he next spoke, you hadn't even heard him over the sudden symphony of noises from outside.

"Okay. Okay we'll go."

———————

"Hey, Evans!"

Chris peeled his eyes away from your silhouette to find new purchase on the person who'd called him. He'd been watching you try – and fail – to get a cab for a little over five minutes now. He was still trying to puzzle through your sudden tonal shift, and had ended up simply staring at you from afar for what felt like ages. His eyes burned. Had he blinked? He couldn't recall.

"What are you still doing here?" Anthony hollered from the other side of the foyer. As he drew closer, his voice lowered. "I thought you guys left a while ago."

"Is {your name} around?" Sebastian asked, still in the midst of shrugging on his coat that he'd just retrieved from coat check. "We wanted to say goodbye before we headed back to the hotel. Early flight and all that."

Chris struggled to find his voice, and when he did, it didn't sound much like himself. "She's outside, getting a cab."

"Oh, you guys are gonna go home and—" Anthony wiggled his brows suggestively.

Seb was quick to land a gentle slap on Anthony's shoulder, a silent hint to shut the fuck up. "I know that face. And that voice." Sebastian drew closer – approaching Chris almost like one does a wounded animal – and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"I... I don't know," Chris sighed. His voice sounded strangled, even to him. "She won't talk to me. Wants nothing to do with me by the looks of it."

Anthony pursed his lips. "Well, what did you do?"

"Why?" Sebastian sighed in exasperation. The question was addressed to no one in particular – except maybe God.

Anthony ignored him. "Man, do I have to spell it out for you? She's crazy about you, giving you those big doe eyes everytime you come within a five mile radius. That is some love shit if I've ever seen it," he chortled to himself. Snapping out of it, he leaned in menacingly – big brother mode activated. "So what did you do?"

"Oh, man..." Chris groaned, trying to remember the events that had led to this point. "Well, she was getting her coat."

Anthony nodded slowly, showing he was following. "Right."

"And this girl I used to date, she came over and we started talking."

"You've lost me," Mackie said, still nodding.

"What do you mean?"

Lightning quick, Anthony smacked Chris upside the head. It wasn't hard, a love tap at most, but it still made Chris grimace. "What do you mean, what do I mean? Honestly, both of you are so clueless. Man, she's perfect for you. Literally, perfect. So what are you talking to your ex for?"

"It wasn't like that, Ant," Chris groaned, rubbing the back of his head. "Wait, do you think she thinks...?"

"I don't know what she thinks. What I think, is that you should fix it. As soon as possible."

"Guess I'm in the lead again, huh?" Sebastian slid his hands coolly into his pockets, rocking on his heels.

Chris frowned. "You guys bet on us?"

"Not with money. With something much more meaningful," Seb smiled.

Anthony nodded sagely. "The settlement on who the Black Widow belongs with."

Chris winced. "That's a lot."

"Well, I had faith."

"He's Team Chris-and-{Your Name}-Should-Get-Married," Seb nodded toward Mackie. "I'm Team Let-Them-Live-Their-Lives."

"Yeah, the names are still a work in progress," Anthony admitted.

Chris sucked in a deep breath, fatigue suddenly hitting him like a freight train. "Well, it's late. You guys should probably get going. I'll text you with an update tomorrow."

Anthony had already started heading out, Sebastian at his side. He swiveled to face Chris. "If I'm not scandalized by what's about to go down tonight, don't even bother."

Sebastian took Mackie by the shoulder, guiding him away. "I'm going to take him back to the hotel before he has an aneurysm," he smiled apologetically. "He hasn't planned yours and {your name}'s wedding in a little over four hours now."

As they departed the building, Chris could still hear Anthony calling out to him.

"I want to be scandalized, Evans! Scandalized!"

———————

"What part of forget it is not getting to you, Christopher?"

He leaned against the doorframe of your room, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles.

"I just want to know what I can do to make it better. Tell me what I can do to make it better."

You gently removed your earrings, tossing them on your desk, before removing your coat. When you'd gotten home, you'd gone straight to your room, and, in a great imitation of Dodger, Chris had followed you there. "It's nothing."

"Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it."

"That's exactly it, Chris. It's nothing. We were both drunk, and it will never happen again. It was nothing. So forget it."

You couldn't even look at him, instead choosing to speak over your shoulder. Because if you had seen him, been looking at him, you would've seen the hurt in his eyes, the pain in the set of his jaw. Your next words were a dismissal: "Thank you for the gift. Good night."

But it wouldn't be a good night, not for either of you.

You were too tired to cry, too tired to sleep, too tired to dream. You were just so... tired.

And Chris... He spent the night sleepless. Entirely unable to do what you asked, and forget. You had seared yourself into his mind, and he was entirely incapable of forgetting.

[sultryenterprise]

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