#cw transactional sex | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramonathinks · 4 months ago

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HIGHEST BIDDER.

summary: tired of your virginity, you decide to auction it off — but you weren’t thinking it would be leader of the notorious group, onychinus who offers the most money of $10,000,000.

cw// 18+ virginity loss, soft sex, small plot but not really, pet names, slight? knife play, oral, she/her pronouns, choking, finger sucking, praise, dumbification, degradation, slight fingering, corruption kink( if you squint), female guided masturbation (? kinda? idk!), squirting, attempt at aftercare, the twins have a cameo. wc: 5.3k

tagging: @lvminy @kissxcore @sunasbon @preciousamethyst (hope it’s okay to tag you guys 🥹🫶🏾) @satorubi

You could only assume it was Luke or Kieran who had told Sylus where you were and perhaps what you were up to. Or maybe it was that damn crow, who insisted you stayed inside. But really, it didn’t matter who said anything because Sylus was grabbing you before a single hand flew up.

“10 million.” His voice was sharp — a hint of anger, annoyance and frustration on him, it oozed off his body and with the dazzling ruby eyes of him staring everyone down… they got the hint that he was throwing around. He was pissed. Too pissed to hear what anyone else had to say. Power rolled off of him in waves everyday but it was obvious that this day, and this girl and this place was provoking him.

The auctioneer's lips trembled in his presence. “T-ten million going at once.” He awkwardly scanned the room, not a cough of a mumble was heard. “Going twice.” Breads of sweat gathered around his forehead and he swallowed. “Sold!” He exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly in Slyus’ direction, guiding the both of you towards a secluded area.

He scoffed and tightened his grip on your body, it took him little to no effort to hand over his card and in a few seconds the transaction was completed; a portion for them and the bigger sum of the money going to you. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you briefly.

You couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest person ever and perhaps at this moment… you were. Being stuck inside and with nowhere to go most days because of the claims of dangers awaiting you, it was tiring. Plus, you had urges, like anyone else – womanly and carnal urges, desires and fantasies. You couldn’t help yourself when Luke mentioned it in passing and Kieran slapped him on the head telling him to shut up about it; it was simply interesting and something Linkon City would’ve never allowed.

You hated the silence. “Are…are you mad at me?” Walking out of the pale building and to the dark cold outside, moving close to his motorcycle. Looking around you think about how the tenebrific ambience that’s casted over this place, it really wasn’t the same as where you grew up, time moves differently here, almost.

“You went into the N109 Zone alone, potentially putting yourself in danger and you want to know if I’m mad at you?” He speaks with a hard tone, his touch scorching hot against your arm, his touch addicting. “Of all the times to be reckless…” He does a heavy sigh, followed by pinching the bridge of his nose.

He’s handing you a helmet and putting his own, sitting down and waiting for your arms to wrap around his waist before he drives off. The wind rushes through you swiftly and no matter how many times you’re on his motorcycle, you can’t help but to feel fear course through every fiber of your body.

Time always seemed to move faster when you were with him and it moved especially fast being on his motorcycle, he drove dangerously and it always led to you clinging more closer to him than you realized.

Upon making it back, you jumped off the motorcycle and handed him the helmet, shaking your hair to make sure it looked halfway decent.

Stepping back inside of the Headquarters of Onychinus, Luke popped his head around the corner and you mustered up the angriest glare that you could make him cower away. You could hear him and Kieran chattering about something. “No use in being mad at them, you brought this on to yourself.” Sylus told you, ushering you into his room.

You just sighed, sitting with your legs crossed on a singular chair that was near a small table in the room. The air felt more tense and uncomfortable than the other times you were here and you couldn’t help but to think of how for once you wished that Mephisto was here so that you wouldn’t be alone with him, not with this temper he clearly had. “Listen Sylus, it was a stupid thing and I know that—”

Lightening wasn’t as quick as him when he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you. Nothing with him was ever warm and inviting, always hard and even a bit mean but luckily not forceful. His tongue licked at your lips and you complied with no hesitation. His tongue felt hot against your own, it sent flames up your body and you could feel everything in the pit of your stomach and to your throat. When he pulled away, he looked at you and from the way he smirked… you knew you looked out of it. Your eyes alone felt heavy and your knees were wobbling, too weak to stand. With your eyes on his, you watched the dazzling red become harder to look away from.

The voices came strong and with a clear message: “fuck him… fulfill your desires…” they spoke to you and you both loved and hated the throbbing sensation that followed. You wanted to remind yourself that he was an enemy… it was too hard to do when he looked like he did and with a voice as deep and rich, it was almost unbearable. Yes, he was an enemy but you couldn’t lie to yourself; you knew the real reason you went to the auction was to make him jealous. You don’t know what it is about him that makes you react the way it does but it burns inside of you and to your very core.

When the light from his eye dimmed and with rapid blinks you were back and felt more stable. “Your little mind always tells me more than your lips do. If you wanted me… I would’ve given you all of me with no hesitation.” It sounded like a promise and it swayed you, you leaned into his arms. “I can try to be gentle.” He whispered close to you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Sylus,” His name trembles out of your lips. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me…” You squeezed your thighs together. “I want you to make me feel good.” You felt too vulnerable in his presence but the truth slipped from your lips so fast as if you were forced to.

He looked as if something took over him, desire deep in his ruby eyes and you couldn’t look away from him, too turned on. “Take your clothes off.” His husky voice said above you. He didn’t move, just watched you shuffle your clothes off until you were in nothing but your panties; when you moved to take those off, it was then that he stopped you. “I’ll handle the rest.” He assured you before he laid you down — your head on his soft black pillows and your body rigid.

You don’t know where the knife came from until it’s rubbing up your calf and moving its way up to your underwear, the cool metal piercing your skin just barely. Your breathing labored and measured, trying not to show your fear but it was failing you. “Stay still, I would hate to nick your pretty skin.” The knife tickled your thighs when he finally snipped open the front that held your secret possession.

He groaned at the sight, audible and bit his lips to contain himself more. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt. There was a smile so deep on his lips as he spread your lips open for him to see. “You ever touched down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes. “Show me.”

“H-huh?” You stuttered out. “I can’t just…”

“Just show me what you normally do… when you’re all alone… in your room…under the covers.” He says it slowly, letting you absorb every word he says.

You’re bare and can feel just how comfortable his comforter set was. Your cunt wet and inviting but his eyes stay on yours, which makes it harder for you to breathe. “I just kinda just do…” Clumsily you spread your lips and simply slid your fingers around yourself, barely focusing on your clit but already overwhelmed. “But I can’t make myself cum, ‘m too sensitive.” His eyes transfixed on your fingers and pussy as you work yourself, your face contorting between pleasure and something else before you stop, heavily breathing.

“Oh? No wonder you’re so unsatisfied, you don’t know your own body. Good thing I’m here to help.” He’s closer, sitting at the end of the bed yet so close to you. He spreads your legs and you can see a glimpse of excitement dancing in his eyes. He inspects you – stroking up your legs and inching his way up and down your thighs, ignoring how with every touch your breath hitches and your toes curl. “I haven’t even touched you that much and you’re already a mess.” He spreads you; opens you up and closes your folds again completely immersed in the gushy noises that follows.

“This,” Sylus says, spreading your sticky lips apart and his breathing getting heavier. “This is your pretty little clit.” He taps the bud with the rough pads of his fingers. “She sits right here behind these lips.” His fingers are lighting a fire and trailing it around your body. “Open these up again… and this,” you gasp, his fingers sitting right in the spot you never touch. “This twitching little hole? That’s where I’m going to fill you up.” He chuckles humorously, circling the hole and gathering the leaking wetness there, your hips rising on their own accord before he pulls away.

“Now, your turn.”

“But I—” You’re close to tears, wetness gathered at your lash line daring to fall. “I can’t, I don’t think I can do it like you.” You hated how needy you sounded and how clingy you were being.

“I hardly did anything. Just simple touches, to show you where everything was. Pleasure points that you should follow. Did you want more? Did you like how I touched you, little one?” You couldn’t help but to gasp at the nickname, it filled your body with more wetness and he watched it leak down to his sheets.

Your insides continue to flutter at the name and your face feels hot. “This is what you paid for right? Might as well get your fill from it.” You try to sound bold and intimidating but his demeanor just softens at your attempt.

“As you wish.” He bends down and cups your cheek before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and you can’t help but to squeal a bit at the warmth that his lips bring you. His fingers brush your face before he moves his mouth down to your neck, licking a stripe before sucking on your skin. You can feel his lips curling into a smile at every noise you make. “I could do this all day… but where’s the fun in that? I’m sure you’ll make even better noises when I touch here.” Cupping the palm of his hand and gently slapping it against your core, your back arches and a whiny moan slips out.

“See? So much better.” You hate the smug look on his face, his red eyes radiant in the dim room staring you down makes you self conscious and ready to hide yourself from him. “I’m going to put my fingers right here,” His breath tickling your core. “Then my tongue, okay?”

You just nod…unable to speak, he watches your face and holds his fingers up to your lips.“Put 'em in your mouth for me, get' em all wet…” Your tongue slides between them, saliva spilling out of the corners of your mouth. “Good girl,” he patted your head, ruffling your hair and you couldn’t help the feeling that took over you. Your mind was everywhere yet nowhere, just him… that was all your mind could think of and be consumed with. The praise had your body on a different kind of high.

He uses those same cool wet fingers to open you wider. Slowly dipping inside of you, circling your center and easing inside, making you tighten up. “Don’t clench, just relax. It’ll only hurt more if you do that.” You take a few deep breaths, allowing your chest to fill up and expand before a release. He spreads your lips and he just looks. There’s a hum on his lips before he kisses your clit; full tongue running across the sensitive area. Your back lifts and arches off the bed but putting his hand on your lower stomach – he forces you to take it. There’s a look in his eyes that’s daring you to disobey him and it makes your tummy flutter.

He puts his full tongue against your clit and you try not to move but your body trembles. His fingers draw circles around your thighs, inching closer to your slit. It makes you realize that he was simply distracting you to alleviate the slight pain from when his fingers actually slipped inside. When they did, you gasped aloud. “Sly–us… please.” Your legs threatened to close but you forced yourself to keep them open and it took a lot out of you.

“Good girl.” He muttered, obviously appreciating your efforts. “So tight…” He tries to move his finger but you only flinch and groan, which makes him use two fingers from his opposite hand to rub lazy circles against your clit. That alongside your breathing helps your body relax and brings a lot of ease to you, opening yourself up. He slowly strokes your insides, taking his time to drag it forward and back, slipping it out before bringing it back inside. You can’t help but notice how eyes flicker from your lower half to your face occasionally but you don’t say anything. “Deep breath.” He tells you before he slips another finger in beside the other.

You whine when he moves them both inside of you, your body rocking against his fingers with a circular motion of your hips. He opens them up before closing them again, you grip the sheets. He felt so deep inside of you with just his fingers… the real thing would be different – longer and thicker – you didn’t know if you were ready. “You’re overthinking aren't you? Just focus on how you’re feeling right now.” His eyes are on yours, his fingers curling inside of you so deliciously that you forget to breathe. When he takes them out, you feel incredibly empty, your hole clenching for more. You're huffing and shaking when you look his way again, he’s opening and closing the two fingers that were inside of you; playing with the slick that was there before he sucks them off. He slips them back inside, sliding them on your inner walls and pressing upwards – the pads of his fingers rubbing circles inside of your soft insides; which makes you squeeze his fingers tight. Rubbing your clit again to soothe you, he slowly curves them as he slips them out – you gasp at the feeling.

He grips your hips and forces you to slide down, his breath knocking the wind out of you when you feel it right by your slit. Your fingers tightly gripping the duvet in anticipation, awaiting his tongue. You gasp when his tongue circles over the hole, nudging there just a bit before he licks up a wet trail; moving back to your clit. He plants a small kiss on the pink throbbing bud, then another before he takes it in his mouth and sucks. His tongue moving around in shapes you can’t make out until you feel the hard S he craves in with his mouth, his head rocking against your legs. When the Y comes, he’s peeling back the hood of your clit and flicking the initial inside rapidly. He slides his face down before he finishes, he pulls your sticky lips apart and dives inside. The tip of his tongue sliding back and forth achingly and painfully slow, his head shaking to the sides when he licks upwards, curving his tongue to hit a particular spongy spot that makes your thighs shake. Your fingers now dig through his silvery hair, pulling when he does a harsh lick against your core. “Taste so good…” He mumbles, rolling your clit between his tongue.

The obscene noises that you hear comes from his mouth feasting on you – slurping, sucking and even the noises of his own groans. Groans that were akin to a dying man giving his last prayer, his groans were drowning out the sounds of your own moans. “I can’t take it–” Slushing sloppy noises are what drowns out your moans and pleads. “Sylus please…” You can feel your own wetness under your bottom and embarrassment floods through you, and at the right time his nose bumps into your clit and you grind into it more with a huff; nothing but useless babbling coming out of your mouth. Another lick causes your toes to curl and your body to twist and coil when a leaking orgasm passes through you; which doesn’t stop him from sucking everything that you have to offer.

His hair now disheveled from you tugging and pulling on it — his face sopping wet from your juices and you can’t help but look away from him, he sits completely upwards. “Look at me.” Your eyes back on his, biting your lip before you looked down at the bulge in his pants – it looked so big and your mouth ran dry. It was an accident and unconscious thing but you licked your lips while staring and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “You look really interested in pleasing me.” His brow is arched and his voice low. “This is going to be fun.” He said more to himself than you, standing and unzipping his pants.

You were still completely naked yet he was clothed – almost fully – just his cock sitting out of his pants standing hard and proud against his stomach. This sight before you made you remember who was in power and just how much power you lacked. But wordlessly, you got on your knees. “You want it? Want my cock? ‘Can see how you’re panting for it.” He was truly condescending and knew how to put you in your place, but the way he made you cum made you see nothing but starlight and you wanted to please him.“Come and take what you want sweetie, take what you need.” You stared – 7 and a half inches of a tanned cock and two firm balls blocked your view of everything else – the tip leaking with white sticky precum dripping down. You trace your tongue up the sides, licking up anything you can to get the taste of him before you kiss the head; then you open your mouth around him and let your teeth run against the sides before you suck him in.

“Watch your teeth, kitten.” His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes, his shoulders growing relaxed, you take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand and give it a few gentle strokes. “And be careful around the— thehead.” He says when your tongue runs a circle around the tip and one wet suck. His face relaxes for a second and you can’t help but to look him over. You knew he was good looking but right now with pleasure all over him, he looks a thousand times better.

The heaviness in your mouth felt so foreign but you welcomed it, the masculine salty taste that followed when you bobbled your head back and the way your cheeks puffed out because of him; it felt good. Your saliva dripped on the floor beneath you, your technique sloppy but when Sylus gripped the back of your head, you felt like you were on cloud nine. He gently guided you, pulling you forward and back – letting your mouth take him as deep as you can, before he pulled you back off. He inches himself inside, you suck and swallow around him, hearing him groan above you sent your body into a frenzy. You choke a bit but he keeps a steady pace to train your mouth again, muffled moans erupt from you when he moves your head again, hitting a deeper spot almost reaching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl…” He cooed and a whine slipped through your lips, his praise making your thighs clench together. When he finally pulled you off, strings of spit broke off from your mouth and his dick. “I’m going to come inside of you.” He tells you, but you can barely register what he’s saying too far gone on your high of being used. You’re smiling a dopey grin and he squeezes the sides of your face to make you look at him, your glossy eyes in a permanent daze. “That was only the beginning, are you sure you can handle the rest?”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Your voice is trembling and hoarse as you speak. You wanted to feel him cum inside of your throat but maybe you were being too greedy, your body swayed. He lifted you up from the floor, your knees burning. You lay there, your eyes droopy as you wait for him, all you hear is movement and a zipper before he returns to you.

“You belong to me, got it?” His hand wrapped around your throat. “Your body is mine to please, to fuck with… to do whatever I want with. And I don’t plan on letting you forget it.” His voice is hard and mean again, his jaw tense as he stares in your eyes.

“I knowww.” A whimper mixed with a whine comes from your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just sighs. Your body trembles and you sniffle, it makes him cradle your hand in his hands.

“You’re shaking, are you that scared?” He asks you gently, as if you’re a flower who needs tending to. Your eyes wide but say nothing. He laced your fingers together, his hands covering the both of yours in an iron grip. “It’s okay kitten, I won’t hurt you.”

You yelp upon feeling a cool sensation hit your lower half, him rubbing it more inside. He’s hovering over you, his beautiful face watching over yours as he slides his cock over your pussy, not daring to push it inside. He just moves his hips well enough that you’re gasping every time, his tip bumps your clit and you bite your lip, your nails ready to pierce his back. You lean into his touch and he kisses your jaw, trailing them down and gently nibbling at your collarbone, sucking on the skin. “Relax,” He says, playing with your wet folds, he starts to play with your clit again and you shiver. “I’ll be gentle.” Did Sylus truly know the meaning of the word? You’re wailing when he slides just the head in, barely. Easing a small bit of his tip in and fucking you just a tiny bit.

Then you feel him nudging more inside of you – his head thick and the squelching noises of him moving in make you tense up, but he whispers in your hair to calm you down and then you’re sucking him in. Your voice is gurgly when more of him slides in, a new found warmth inside of you. “Still so tight…” A strained groan fell from his lips, you reached from him with tears in your eyes. Sylus didn’t move, he rubbed your hair but stayed there then he did a tiny jerk of his hips, the stretch makes you sob, but you know that he’s only barely inside of you and that there was more to come. He tells you to take a deep breath and you listen, not wanting to be in any more pain; he slips more of it inside, a thumb on your clit. He presses his thumb and does small circles around it – strangled sounds come out of your lips – he still hasn't moved.

You look at him, you put his face in your hands and look in his eyes, telling him just how ready you are for this. He’s working his cock in slowly, inch by inch but he looks like he's scared to overwhelm you. When his pelvis meets yours you gasp…your hips buckle when he completely bottoms out, a sigh dying on your lips and tears free falling… it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to but the pain still lingered. Your eyes rolling back and you squeal, your fingers holding tightly against him. “Oh…oh… Sylus.” Panting – your eyes probably filled with hearts — as you look at him, lovingly. The stringing stretch subsides when he does a small thrust, not too deep but enough to make you feel good. He pulls back and pushes himself back inside, watching your expression as you take him.

He’s being as gentle as he can, you notice. His hips thrusting soft, just nudging the soft spots inside of you. He pushes inside of you again, the first painless thrust and you both moan. Your belly tenses when he speeds up and the noises of wet skin slapping makes your body heat up. He’s rocking his hips against yours, circling his hips clockwise in a way that makes you shudder. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, he fucks you a bit harder than before. The sound of his balls slapping against you is all you can hear – his strokes getting deeper as he slows down, you look down and see the strings of wetness coating his cock as he stuffs you full of it again. “God, feels so good inside of you.” His mouth slightly agape.

A small squirt of wetness spills out of you as he thrusts inside, some of it under your bodies and some of it splashing upwards as he digs deeper inside of you. You’re squirming and squirting, eyes crossing over when you hear him say: “Marking your territory, kitten?” It only makes you gush more, squeezing around him. You can feel his deep chuckles as it vibrates from his chest to yours – he’s always mocking you but right now you could care less —the way your body feels has you ready to bend to his whim. “This little kitten and these sharp claws…” he hisses when you press your nails deeper into his skin, you dig them down his back. The long drag of his cock felt amazing against your walls, a small sharp thrust inside has you both grunting.“Clenching around me so hard.” He kisses the top part of your head and you relish in how caring he’s been, you almost forgot how any of this started.

“What’s my name?” His voice thick with a bit of annoyance, it was clear that he didn’t forget how any of this started. You felt full, lifting your hips trying to meet his thrust, his cock hitting spongy parts inside of you that made you see nothing but bright colors.

“Sy-Sylus!” Your eyes rolling back in your skull and your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape as he’s inside of you, pure bliss in the form of the gentle thrusting of his body into yours.

“Who do you belong to?” His teeth clenched and he’s squeezing your waist hard, staring at you… his ruby red eyes glowing in the dim room. His pace picking up faster, squelching plopping noises from the two of you grew louder.

“Youuuu. Sylus.” You admit, puffy pussy sucking him inside. “I belong to you.” He touches your stomach, gazing at it as he fucks himself inside of you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” His hand on your throat. Grinding his pelvis against yours, your clit pulsing against him. He stops and slides out before he jerks back in, gripping your thighs.

“Sylus!” You’re breathing hard and feel him twitching inside of you when you say his name again.

“And you tried to give it away.” He slapped your cunt and you jolted, a small squirt coming out of you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled and tears fall; you feel so good and you can’t believe you made the stupid decision in the first place when you could’ve asked him to do this… to make you feel this good. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling. He’s stretching you out, squeezing your ass in both of his hands to further spread your body open for his pleasure.

“Eyes on me. Keep looking at me. Look at me while I touch you. Look at me when I make you cum.” Your eyes still closed and he sighs. “Look at me or I’ll stop.” He gives a sloppy wet thrust pumping his cock inside of you.

That simple statement made your eyes snap open, “Sylus please…please don’t stop!” There’s a tremor in your voice and the bed creaks at the same time; your wet walls swallowing him deeper inside. “Please fill me up. I need it.” You’re babbling and the curve of his cock hits a new spot inside of you, the tip grazing your cervix just slightly… just enough to make you feel good and to gasp around him.

It felt like he was going to devour you.

And you craved it.

So you let him.

It was one last thrust that was your undoing as you both cum, your back arched and your body feeling completely boneless, wetness slipping out of you as he pulled away. Your body shaking, he kisses you and pulls you close to his bare chest. As you’re drifting to sleep you hear him whisper in the sweetest voice, “I truly do adore you.”

But maybe you dreamt it.

When you wake, your body is covered in sweat and a heavy arm has you caged in. There’s a dull ache between your thighs and you feel wetness there too, you shiver. You slide from behind the arm and attempt to stand. “Fuck.” You mutter, looking for your clothes or for any clothes. You mentally slap yourself upon remembering that Sylus cut your panties as you rummage through his closet. You pull out a folded plain dress and slip it on, making your way out of his bedroom. You close the door gently so that he can stay asleep and you walk towards the main hall.

“Sounds like Boss really taught you a lesson.” You heard snickering and with a slight limp to your walk, you moved over to slap Luke’s arm.

“Looks like it too.” Kieran said, making you hit him too. “It’s not like we didn’t hear it, you two were so loud that Mephisto left and I swear before he left that he tried to cover his ears. I would’ve done it too, if I thought it would drown off the ‘Sylus don’t stop’ you kept moanin.” Mimicking your voice made you kick him in the shin, which he yelped at.

“Both of you just hush. I-I’m leaving.” You make your way for the door as they trail behind you.

“So this is you attempting to sneak off?” Luke snorts, you know he’s rolling his eyes behind the mask.

“Yeah right, boss really isn’t letting you leave now.” Kieran chuckles.

“They’re right, you know.” For a split second your body is lifted in the air and slammed against the front of a hard naked chest and for possibly the millionth time today, your body felt hot all over. “You really won’t be leaving my side now.”

But you already knew that.

9K notes · View notes

rowarn · 5 months ago

Text

IF YOU NEEDED ME !

simon riley/reader – 7.1k words sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, childhood best friend!simon, virginity for sale trope, unrealized feelings, soft!simon, protective!simon, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader

cw: loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet & messy, fingering, creampie, mid-sex love confession, a little arguing but nothing crazy tbh, petnames (love, lovie, sweetheart)

; he remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. he never thought he was deserving of such happiness. but now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

or.

he may not have been the first man you picked to give your first time to. but looking back, you realized he was the only right choice in the end.

Meeting some unknown, shady guy out on the street outside of a seedy bar wasn’t the smartest decision you’ve ever made. Nor was it how you actually intended to spend your Friday evening. But it was the only option you had at the moment, so you swallowed your nerves and forced yourself to stay put at the spot the guy had chosen despite the fact that being out on the street made you feel x10 more nervous and vulnerable.

You could hear the loud music and chatter inside the bar every time the door opened to let someone in or out. There was a chill in the air that had you contemplating actually going inside and just telling the guy to meet you in there – you were about to give the bastard your damn virginity, the least he could be was accommodating to your temperature struggles. Plus, you could really use a drink.

A car, expensive by the looks of it, pulling up to the curb had you pausing in that train of thought. You recognized him from his profile picture when he stepped out of the vehicle – Lucas, you recall being his name. Whether that was really his name or not didn’t matter; all that mattered was he brought what he promised.

“You have the money?” you asked when he approached you, giving him a tight-lipped smile as a greeting.

“Yeah, got it in the car. All cash, I hope that’s alright,” he grinned, a sight that made a shiver go down your spine. His tone didn’t match the smile, all transactional and dull despite the glimmer in his eyes.

He wasn’t necessarily unattractive but he certainly wasn’t your type. There was a look in his eyes, one that made your skin crawl because you felt like you were nothing but a piece of raw meat in front of a starving, salivating predator.

“We should get going,” he said, hurrying to open the backseat of his car for you.

You paused, “Aren’t we going to go inside or something?”

He looked confused, grip on the door tightening for a moment before he bursted out laughing. When he saw the shocked look on your face he sobered up, “Sorry, sorry, that was rude of me. Sweetheart, this isn’t a date. I’m just here to get what I paid for.”

“Oh…” you swallowed around the lump in your throat at the condescending tone, humiliation making your cheeks burn, “Right.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes and you quickly averted your gaze so he wouldn’t see how much that stung. Of course, you knew it wasn’t a date. This was a transaction. But you at least thought you’d get to know the guy who was about to take your virginity. You should have known better.

A man who was paying for your virginity wasn’t bound to be someone you could trust to feel comfortable around. You quietly sigh, resigning yourself to this all for the sake of some fucking money.

You settle into the car, heart jumping into your throat when the door slams. It feels as if you’ve just sealed your fate and you can’t deny that you’re scared.

But there’s an envelope next to you that you can see stuffed with bills and you clench your fists, trying to calm your racing heart by closing your eyes and breathing.

You just hope this decision doesn’t cost you your life or something. You’d hate to imagine what that would do to a certain someone.

Suddenly, the car jostles. Your eyes snap open and you see Lucas is jacked up against the side of the car, a very familiar form caging him in. His scarred hands grip the man’s shirt in tight fists. You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see Lucas is chattering frantically, gesturing wildly with his hands in an attempt to quell the angry man in the skull balaclava.

You curse to yourself, a different kind of terror shocking through your system. Lucas is thrown to the side and you wince at how hard he hits the pavement before the car door is jerked open.

You can’t even say anything before a strong, rough hand wraps around your arm, yanking you out. You stumble once you’re on your feet, falling right into his chest.

You try to pull away but his arm clamps down around you.

Lucas is cursing and screaming his head off, words you don’t even bother to try and decipher because you’re too preoccupied with the masked figure that made his sudden appearance. Nerves make your knees shake and from the look of pure rage in his eyes, you know you’re in deep shit.

Lucas opens the car door and slams it before driving off, tires squealing against the pavement before he vanishes. Along with that wad of cash that was going to be yours in just a short time.

Suddenly you’re angry, shoving your hands against his chest to get him away from you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Riley?!” you shriek, shooting him the fiercest glare you could muster.

“I should be askin’ you that,” he sneers, “The hell were you doin’ with that prick?”

“I–”

“Don’t answer that,” he snaps, cutting you off swiftly, “I know what you were doin’. If you needed money that badly you should have told me.”

“It’s not your concern, Simon!” you cry, resisting the urge to petulantly stomp your foot.

You’re so pissed.

Simon Riley and you went way back, childhood friends. The two of you had always been in each other's lives. Simon especially was always there when you needed him, a beacon of safety and protection. Your best friend and someone you loved to the ends of the Earth.

But right now, you’re so angry with him that you can’t seem to think straight.

How dare he show up now, when you’re about to do the most humiliating act of your entire life. How could he show his stupid, masked face here when you didn’t even ask for his help in the first place for a reason.

“You are always my concern,” he shoots back, scarred knuckles turning white from how hard he clenches his fists, “I have always taken care of you. You should have come to me for help instead of puttin’ yourself in danger like this. You didn’t know that guy, what the fuck were you thinking?”

Anger makes your skin hot, sweat beading on your forehead, blocking out the chill that once made goosebumps rise. You feel ashamed that you were caught in this situation – that the man you’ve known your entire life knew you were about to sleep with some random asshole for a fat wad of cash. You don’t like that he’s made you feel ashamed and confronted you with it.

“Just fuck off, Simon!” you shriek, the only thing you can think of before turning on your heel and stalking away from him.

You don’t glance over your shoulder to check if he’s following because you know he most likely is – from a safe distance to make sure you make it inside your apartment alright but far enough that you can’t get mad at him for it. Your jaw is clenched so tightly that you feel a headache radiating down your neck.

By the time you reach your apartment, the anger has simmered and all you’re left with is a festering shame that makes tears fill your eyes. You wrap your arms around yourself and quickly shuffle yourself inside, not bothering to check if Simon is out there or not. All you want is to get a hot shower and crawl into bed for the rest of the weekend.

You do just that, letting the burning hot water scald your skin until you can’t feel any emotions except exhaustion. And then, you crawl into bed and let sleep overtake you without a second thought.

When you wake up, it’s clear that it’s late into the afternoon. The sun is high in the sky and shining painfully bright through the crack in your curtains. You groan and roll over, slapping the bed to find your phone.

You grab the device and unlock it, taking a moment to scroll through your notifications. There’s some angry messages from the guy from last night – cursing you out for setting him up to be jumped. It makes you roll your eyes before a particular notification catches your eye.

It’s from your bank – alerting you of a deposit.

You sit up straight in your bed, brows furrowed before your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see your bank statement. It’s more than you needed and you know exactly who was responsible.

You jump out of bed, not even bothering to dress out of your pajamas before you’re shoving some slides onto your feet and storming out of your apartment.

You’re so heated that you can’t even remember the walk to Simon’s place, your mind racing a million miles a second. You storm up to the door and slam your fist on it, the hard wood making your hand sting from how hard you pound.

The radiating tingle of pain is quickly forgotten when the door swings open.

Simon stands there, looking down at you expectantly. He leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. He wears an army-issued t-shirt that’s a bit too tight. The sleeves stretch taunt around his biceps and you can make out the swell of his pecs. It’s not very often that you get to see his tattooed arms, littered with scars since he tends to wear long sleeves most of the time.

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see you, clearly having expected you. The apathetic look in his eyes just solidifies that you were right all along.

“What the hell is your problem?!” you cry without so much as a greeting.

He sighs, broad shoulders rising and falling with it before he opens the door wide and motions you inside. You duck underneath his outstretched arm, turning to watch as he closes the door and locks it.

He wanders into the kitchen and you realize you can smell bacon. He doesn’t seem at all surprised by your outburst nor does he seem interested in acknowledging your question.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, only solidifying how unperturbed he is by your display of anger.

“No!” you snap, “I want to know why you did that, Simon!”

He sighs again, much louder but doesn’t respond. You stand in the doorway to his kitchen, watching him plate his lunch – which is actually just breakfast food. He places the dish on the table and pauses, looking up at you.

“You needed the money, I had it,” he offered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I was handling it on my own,” you say, “I-It was my problem to solve.”

“By sellin’ yourself to some prick?” he snarls, the anger he was masking coming out in a flurry.

“I wasn’t selling myself–” you refute but he slams his palms down on the table. His cutlery clatters with the action and you jump.

“I read that post you made,” he hisses, teeth bared, “There’s no fuckin’ reason you should be selling your virginity for some cash when I was right here the whole time!”

Your cheeks burn when he brings up your virginity, crossing your arms over your chest protectively, “I-It’s mine to sell if I want to! I needed that money!”

“And now you have it,” he says with finality.

He takes a seat and you stand there, fuming. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding together as your mind races to find a rebuttal. He begins to eat, taking large, fast bites that just shows how he’s been conditioned to eat quickly by the military.

“That’s not the point, Simon,” you huff, growing less angry and more frustrated by this conversation. You were just going around in circles.

“Then what is the point?” he snaps, snatching his empty plate and angrily tossing it in the sink. He turns to you again, a frown evident on his face, “You got the money you needed safely. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s too much money, Simon!” you cry, “I was selling something in exchange for it!”

“I care about you,” he says, “That doesn’t matter to me. What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

You silently glare at him, wishing that the heated stare would get through to him. He stands unbothered, staring blankly at you with his fists clenched by his sides.

You hang your head, sighing, “I-I can’t take your money, Simon, alright? I’m already in debt and I’m not going to be in debt to you of all people.”

“You feel like you owe me, is that it?” he asks.

You nod your head, heart rate spiking when he stalks towards you. You’re close enough to smell his body wash and aftershave, a painfully familiar scent that you adore. He stares down his nose at you, brown eyes lidded and lazy.

He reaches out suddenly, rough hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them together until your lips pucker, “Then give me a kiss as payment.”

“H-Huh?” you whimper dumbly, eyes wide in shock as his face grows closer and closer.

“It can be payment for a kiss, lovie,” he coos, syrupy sweet and soft, “Will that make up for it, then?”

The air in your lungs suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. This is a man that you’ve known almost your entire life so you’ve obviously thought about him in a romantic sense at some point. Hell, when you were a teenager you even had a crush on him. But he never once looked at you any other way than as a friend so you quickly got over it – or maybe that’s just what you told yourself. Because as you stand there, staring into his eyes, you realize that kissing him would feel like a dream come true.

You find yourself nodding despite the inner turmoil going on in your head. Simon huffs through his nose before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

There’s a shock of electricity that goes through you at the contact. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into the kiss, letting him take over. He works his lips expertly against yours, eventually abandoning his hold on your face in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. You gasp into the kiss when he suddenly yanks you closer, your body pressed close against his.

He’s warm and sturdy against you, a solid form of muscle that makes you feel safe and content – just as he always has. His hands are big and rough as they grip your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he gets lost in kissing you.

“S-Si,” you find yourself muttering without realizing.

He hums in response, chuckling when you continue to mindlessly kiss him. He pulls back, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, thumbing at your jaw as your eyes slowly focus on him, “What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?”

“I-I don’t…” you swallow thickly around the forming lump in your throat, “I don’t know. I just…”

“Show me,” he breathes, softer than you’ve ever heard his voice.

The sweet, tender look in his big, brown eyes is what gives you the courage to grab his wrist, leading it just under the hem of your shirt so he can touch your bare stomach. You give him a shy glance from under your lashes, hoping he’ll get the hint that you want more.

You want him.

Simon, in all his experienced wisdom, understands immediately what it is you’re aching for. His hand travels up further, pausing at your ribs, just under the swell of your breast. Your heart hammers in your chest when your gaze meets his. His eyes are lidded, long lashes obscuring his pupils but still burning into you.

He stares deep into your eyes, waiting for any sign of hesitation as his fingers creep higher and higher. You suck in a breath when he cups your breast in his palm, squeezing lightly to feel their weight.

A large, calloused thumb creeps up, passing ever so softly over your nipple until the bud peaks and hardens under the attention. You sigh at the feeling, new shocks washing over you that you’ve never experienced before.

Sure, you played with yourself plenty – you had a healthy masturbation life, you’d say. But you’d always just been focused on reaching an orgasm, never on the build up. You imagine, however, it would never feel as good by yourself as it does with him.

He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whine, lips parting as the sound escapes. Simon takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Your hands grab his shoulders, desperately clinging to his shirt as you lose yourself in the sloppy kiss.

Drool drips down your chin – it's messy and hot between the two of you. His hand switches to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other. You tremble in his arms, overcome by the insatiable throbbing between your thighs.

You shift on your feet, the fabric of your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You’re so wet, wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. By the time he pulls back, there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

“You want more?” he asks, voice gravelly as he speaks, as if he’s drunk. You nod your head and he clicks his tongue, “You gotta tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want more, Si,” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit it.

“Let’s go,” he hums, taking your hand in his as he leads you around the couch towards the hallway.

“Where?” you ask dumbly, hoping that making some kind of conversation would ease the nerves steadily building in your chest.

“The bedroom,” he responds, stroking his thumb over the top of your hand as if he can sense that you’re nervous, “Wouldn’t want to be stripped down in the middle of the living room, I imagine.”

“N-No,” you squeak, cheeks burning even hotter at those words.

You’re going to be naked. In front of another person for the first time. In front of him. Simon.

“There now, lovie,” he whispers as he shuts his bedroom door behind the both of you. He takes your waist in his hands, kneading the soft flesh there, “It’s alright.”

“I-I’m just–”

“Nervous,” he finishes for you, smiling softly when you nod, “I know. We can stop anytime you’d like.”

“I don’t want to,” you rush out, hands coming up to press against his firm chest, “Just…d-don’t be upset when I don’t know what I’m doing.”

The tender way he looks at you sets your heart pounding like a little rabbit. A ghost a smile appears on his lips, “I would never do somethin’ like that.”

“I-I know, I just…” you look down at your feet only for him to catch your chin in his fingers, pulling you to look up at him.

You swallow thickly around the lump in your throat, holding your breath as he descends down. His lips find yours all over again, as exhilarating and mind-melting as the first time.

Just the sweet, deep kiss he gives you has your nerves dissipating a bit – back to normal levels. You no longer feel the desire to flee, you just feel an intense longing and anticipation. You crave more from him.

As if sensing this, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. He slowly starts to pull it up, agonizingly slow. But you’re grateful for it, it gives you time to prepare before you’re bared completely to him. You lift your arms for him, a sign that you’re still okay with this.

He pulls it up over your head and lets the fabric drop to the floor. But he doesn’t look down, he continues looking in your eyes, softly pecking your lips as his hands cup your breasts once more.

When you sigh and lean into his touch, he finally lets himself break the eye contact. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees how pretty your tits sit in his hands. He touches them softly, sweetly brushing over your nipples in admiration.

“Perfect tits, lovie,” he coos, chuckling when you whine in embarrassment.

His head descends, pink lips parting to take one of your nipples in his mouth. It’s hot but his tongue is soft when it circles and flicks at the bud. He sucks, popping off lewdly before switching to the other one.

The sensation makes you squeeze your thighs together, imaging what that would feel like around your clit. Your hole clenches around nothing, drooling messily into your panties. The fabric was so wet by now that it couldn’t soak it up anymore, leaving it to slick up your thighs instead.

Your core ached, a feeling only Simon would be able to soothe.

“Please, Si,” you finally break, whimpering pathetically.

He detaches from your breast, lips wet and swollen from the worship he had been giving your now sore nipples. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing brown and you were sure that yours looked the same.

He stands to his full height, nudging you backwards until your knees hit the bed. They buckled at that, leaving you to fall back against the bed. Simon’s bedding was soft, the scent of detergent and his own body wash filling your senses. You relax at the familiar, comforting scent, sinking into the blankets with a bashful smile on your face.

To Simon, you’re an ethereal beauty. You take the air right out of his lungs with the way you look at him.

He remembers the way you would look at him when you were children, all smiles and bright eyes. He never thought he was deserving of such happiness. But now, with you shyly covering your bare breasts, in his bed, he feels like he’s the only man deserving of you.

He scooches you up the bed, crawling on after you until he’s on top of you. Though you’re still wearing your pants, you feel so vulnerable beneath his weight. He’s heavy and warm and he smells so good. You can’t focus on anything except for him – he’s all around you and it’s exhilarating.

Feeling bold, you reach up and tug at his shirt. He pulls it off with ease, revealing his toned, scarred upper body. You can’t help but trace over some of the ones you’re familiar with – there’s one from a time he fell out of a tree trying to rescue a cat that you had been crying about. He fell out of the tree on the way down, a jagged branch stabbing into his upper arm and slicing it open. There was another one from when you were teenagers, some other kids jumped him and he took a stab to his shoulder trying to protect you. You kiss that one and he softens, as if he’s remembering it too.

He’s always been there for you, an overwhelming presence that you simply couldn’t live without. The fact you’re here, in this bed, about to give him your virginity is something that you never would have expected.

And to think, you were planning to sell it off to some random loser.

“I’m glad you stopped me,” you find yourself whispering.

He looks confused for a second before he hums, nodding in understanding, “I am too.”

“I-I want it to be you, Si,” you whisper, the confession leaving you embarrassed. It’s true, all this time, you realize, he’s all you’ve ever really wanted. You had just buried it deep down so you no longer felt those sparks towards him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers back, as if the two of you are sharing some secret little moment that no one else can hear about even though it’s just the two of you in this room.

“You always do,” you respond, the words making his dark eyes light up.

He kisses you deeply, moving his lips slowly against yours. When your hands come up to grip the back of his neck, he takes that as his cue to move down to your neck, then your collarbones, down the center of your chest between your breasts, the spot between your breasts, and finally your navel.

You lay back, head in his pillows with your hands on either side of your head. You watch him, breathing labored as you wait for his next move. He pauses in his path, looking up through his lashes at you before his fingers find the hem of your sweats. You swallow thickly, holding your breath when he slowly begins to pull the fabric down. You lift your hips to help him, pulling your legs free while being careful not to kick him by accident.

He keeps his gaze on you until you’re settled back down into the bed and the pants are forgotten on the floor to be collected later. Then, he looks down.

Even though you still have your panties on, you know that the white cotton is soaked through and hides absolutely nothing from his view.

You watch as he licks his lips, as if his mouth is suddenly bone dry. His hands are burning hot when he touches you again, sliding over your thighs to your hips. He leans down, pressing his lips against each of your thighs.

His thumb reaches down, stretches over your pubic bone to touch the sticky fabric. You nearly jump at the sensation – someone’s fingers other than your own touching you there for the first time. Simon’s fingers.

As if he can’t help himself anymore, he tugs the waistband of your panties and yanks them down your thighs. You squeal when you’re jostled under the force.

He holds the material up and you’re mortified to see just how wet they are. He runs his thumbs over the crotch and you whine, drawing his attention from them. He drops them to the floor and returns his hands back to you, gripping underneath your knees, so he can spread you all the way open.

Your hands fly to your face, covering your eyes in embarrassment at how exposed you are. He doesn’t seem to mind, pressing a kiss over the top of your hands before moving back down your body.

You peek through your fingers only to find him already staring at you with a sparkle in his eyes. He carefully spreads your slippery folds apart with his thumbs, the movement causing a wet, sticky sound to emanate from between your legs. The little bud of your clit is hard and twitching as it’s exposed to the cool air of the bedroom. When he’s sure you’re looking he leans down, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth. You stop breathing as you watch a fat glob of spit roll down the surface of the smooth muscle and splatter right on your clit.

“Si-!” your squeal of his name is cut off when your eyes roll back in his head as that sinful tongue slides right over your bud.

Your whole body twitches at that, hands falling away from your face so you can reach down and grab his hair. It doesn’t even seem like he notices your grip, focused on slurping up that sensitive nub into his hot mouth.

You choke out a moan, tilting your head back into the pillows as your back arches. It feels just as good as you thought it would when he was giving the same, lewd treatment to your nipples.

He continues to suck and lick your clit until your mind is completely blank and all you can think is him. Then, all at once it stops and he pulls back, letting your bud slip from the heavenly clutch of his lips.

“You ever have somethin’ inside you, lovie?” he asks, bringing up one of his fingers to swipe through the folds of your entrance, as if to show you what he intends.

You swallow to moisten your throat before nodding, “J-Just my fingers.”

“How many?” he asks, growing more confident in prodding at the tight little hole.

“T-Two,” you breathe, any embarrassment you felt long dissipated in the face of true pleasure.

“Alright, lovie,” he hums, “Just lay back, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”

You nod and do as he says, turning utterly boneless against the blankets. The sweat already slicking your skin despite the fact you’ve only just begun makes the fabric stick to you.

He prods at your entrance for only a second longer before finally, he pushes his thick middle digit inside you. Your cunt is so wet and pliant that it hungrily swallows it up to the very last knuckle. You clench around it intentionally, getting used to the feeling of the foreign finger inside of you for the first time.

It feels so different compared to your own, thicker and rougher. The sensation is so strange but you can’t say you don’t like it – in fact, it feels amazing. You already want another, feeling like one just isn’t enough to give you that unknown feeling you’re chasing. It’s like you have an itch that needs to be scratched and only Simon can do it for you.

As if sensing this, ever the reliable one, he carefully introduces a second finger. The stretch is unfamiliar, a burn around your entrance following as he reaches the last knuckle on that one too. His middle and ring finger stuffed snuggly inside your gooey little cunt as you whine and squirm from the feeling.

Once you’ve adjusted, he slowly begins working them in and out of you. You slick up his fingers easily, streaks of creamy white coating his skin and making his mouth water. When he crooks his fingers up suddenly, prodding at that tender little spot inside of you, your entire body twitches and the most beautiful moan rips from your chest.

He can’t resist leaning down and trapping your pulsing little clit under the flat of his tongue. He doesn’t slurp it into his mouth like before, instead, he just licks over it, pressing it down with the muscle. Your eyes are rolled up and your mouth hangs open as you moan and moan, tugging mindlessly at his hair as he works you towards your orgasm.

It grows and grows, the unrelenting pleasure of his fingers fucking deeply into you and his tongue lapping sloppily at your clit like a mutt driving that knot in your belly to tighten. Drool spills out around his tongue, slipping down to meet his fingers where he easily fucks it into you – the added lubrication not needed but so very welcome with how much wetter and messier it makes you.

“S-Simon…” you pant, gasping to catch your breath as the pleasure makes it hard for you to even think.

He glances up at you through his lashes but doesn’t offer any other acknowledgement. There’s a knowing look in his eyes that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to wring this orgasm out of your little cunt whether you like it or not.

And fuck, do you love it.

The orgasms you brought yourself in the deep of the night, little hands stuffed down your panties as you played with your clit and stuffed yourself with your own fingers was nothing like what you were experiencing now. Simon’s thick fingers and hot tongue were torturing your little clit until your entire body started to lock up.

You looked at him desperately, unsure what was even going through your mind besides him and how fucking good you felt right now.

Just as you teetered on the edge of this orgasm, he suddenly changed up and swallowed your twitchy little clit into his mouth. He sucked, sending you flying over the edge with a shrill wail of his name. Your legs kicked and twitched, heels hitting him on the back as you trembled and shook through the orgasm that he eagerly fucked out of you onto his fingers.

He suckled your clit, swirling his tongue around it until it was too sensitive and you were tearily pushing him away. When he finally released you, slipping his fingers from your cunt, you were boneless and twitching on the bed. You didn’t even try to close your legs when he pulled away, giving him the perfect view to watch your cute little pussy clench and messily drool cum in the aftermath of your orgasm.

He popped his fingers in his mouth, eyes rolling and lashes fluttering at the taste of your cum tingling on his taste buds. As you came down, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he began pulling at his belt.

You could hear the metal clinking as he dropped it to the floor, peeking your heavy lids open to see him pull the button of his jeans open. As he slowly pulled them down, his underwear went with and suddenly you were more aware than ever.

His cock was something to behold. Thick and veiny, bobbing in the air where it hung – too heavy to actually stand upright. You’d seen dicks in porn before but none of them prepared you for Simon’s. Precum dribbled from the tip, creating a long, gooey string down towards the floor before it broke.

He wrapped a big hand around himself, giving a few good strokes as he reached down to cup his own heavy balls. The hair wasn’t wild or offensive, but neatly trimmed short.

“All good, lovie?” he asked, stepping out of the pool of his jeans and boxers so he could kneel on the bed again.

“All god-good!” you blushed as he laughed, leaning down over you to balance his weight on his elbows.

“You still want this?” he asks, hushed and sweet,

You glance between your bodies to see that intimidating cock, drooling messily over your skin. You realize, quickly, that you’ve never wanted anything more in your life.

When you voice such, he looks relieved, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He sits back on his heels and spreads your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest.

“Hold them there,” he orders, which you follow immediately.

Your elbows circle around your knees, holding yourself open for him as he asked. He whistles low in appreciation when your cum-slicked cunt was spread and exposed for him to prod his cockhead against.

He swipes the tip up and down through your folds, humming appreciatively when your little hole tries to suck him in every time he grazes past it. He nudges your clit, the little bud still hard and sensitive from your orgasm but so eager for more. He couldn’t wait to grant your wish and make you cream on his cock.

You watch him with wide eyes as he starts to push into you. Your jaw drops as you feel that burning stretch, an ache settling between your legs as he continues to sink himself into you.

“F-Fuck, wait, Simon!” you squeal and he halts immediately.

He’s only reached just past the head of his cock but he reaches down to pet your clit. The pleasure shoots through you, making your toes curl and your walls relax around him. He keeps his eyes on your face for any sign that you want him to stop as he moves his hips again.

More and more of his cock sinks inside and his thumb keeps working little circles over your clit until his hips are flush with yours. Your voice breaks as you moan when you realize you’ve taken every single inch of him.

He’s heavy and throbbing inside of you and you clench around him intentionally, forcing a moan from his chest.

He leans down, arranging your knees over his shoulders, folding you up and pressing down on you. He’s heavy and it makes it hard to breathe but that makes it even better – the pleasure of being speared on that fat cock and being utterly helpless underneath this man is better than any fantasy you could have made for yourself.

“Fuck,” he snarls, rolling his hips back before rocking them forward again, heavy balls slapping against you as he does, “Can’t believe you were gonna give this little cunt away to some prick.”

“S-Si,” you whimper, biting your lip at the feeling of him slowly and carefully rocking his hips against yours, “‘M sorry, sh-shoulda been you all this time.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he hums, “No one else gets to love you but me, sweetheart.”

“O-Only you!” you agree, nails digging into his shoulders when he hits that spot just right.

He can feel you soaking his cock, drippy cum lathering him up to make every glide of his cock wetter than the last. He sits back up on his knees, adjusting his grip so he can pin your legs wide open, giving him the best view of your greedy cunt swallowing his length up.

He begins to fuck you in earnest, pulling out halfway before sliding home again - nothing like the little movements he gave you to prepare you. He was going to show you exactly why you should only think of giving him this precious pussy for the rest of your life. No one will ever be able to fuck you as good as he can, he’s going to learn your body like the back of your hand and you’re never going to be able to cum as hard as you can with him. You’ll never even want to use your own fingers again when he’s done with you.

You can’t do anything but lay there and take it, take the pleasure and take his cock. He hits so deep, prodding at your cervix in a way that aches but it only feels that much better when it’s mixed with mind-numbing pleasure.

Simon looms above you, panting and groaning as he fucks you like he was made to. He angles his hips just right, blunt nails biting into your thighs where he pins you open, neither of you caring if he happens to break skin while he does. You don’t even register the bite of pain underneath the way his cock prods you g-spot so perfectly.

Your own fingers would have been tired by now, no longer able to work that little spot like you need. Simon’s cock, however, is unrelenting. The pleasure builds and mounts uninterrupted, every stroke of his length sending you higher. His body moves fluidly, rolling his hips tirelessly so he can give you every ounce of pleasure your sweet little cunt needs.

You’re creaming around him, a frothy, milky ring forming around the base every time he sinks in and becoming visible when he pulls back. It’s filthy and messy and makes your cheeks burn but Simon seems to not mind in the slightest.

“So fuckin’ messy, love,” he coos, breathy and slurred, “Look at that, pretty cunt needed some cock, huh?”

“Y-Yours!” you manage to choke out.

“What’s that?” he asks, a crooked, teasing grin on his face.

“Y-Your cock! Only needed your cock, Simon,” you pant, reaching up to grope your own tits, pinching and rolling your nipples meanly. It hurts so good, making you clench around his cock. He moans at the sight, his pretty little virgin tormenting your own nipples.

“That’s right,” he hums, reaching a shaky hand down to thumb at your clit, “Keep pinchin’ those pretty tits, sweetheart. Don’t stop.”

You nod your head, unable to form a vocal response from the new sensation of your clit being played with while he fucks you. It feels so damn good that you could go drunk from it all. Everything in your brain is slow, thoughts of only him and how good you feel are all that’s there. Your entire world, right at this moment, revolves around Simon Riley.

He knows it too, a cocky grin on his face as he works you to your orgasm. You dangle, almost helplessly, staring unblinkingly at his handsome face as he works it out of you.

After what feels like minutes, but is probably only seconds, you cum. Hard.

Your head slams back against the pillows, back arching as you cunt clasps tight around him. You cry out in pure, unadulterated pleasure as he fucks you through it. His thumb keeps working your clit as it twitches and pulses under the digit, cumming nice and pretty for him just like he wanted. Just like you deserved.

You cream his cock messily, it drips down his balls and down your ass to the bedding below. So fucking sloppy and wet, a perfect little cunt made to take his cock.

His brows furrow, mouth falling open as his own orgasm mounts and builds. Now that your well-earned orgasm is out of the way, he can finally let go and allow himself to experience it as well.

“Where do you want it?” he grits out, teeth clenched from the ache of holding back.

His balls draw up, heavy and full. He feels ready to positively explode when you gasp, “I-Inside!”

His head falls back, the loudest, most drawn out moan you’d never expected to come from a stoic man like Simon falling from his lips. It’s deep and primal, full of nothing but euphoria as he spills into you. His load is hot and thick, drooling out of the sides of his cock as he slows his thrusts to milk the least bits of pleasure from the orgasm.

When he comes down, he collapses. Your legs lock around his waist and he draws you tightly into his arms, neither of you caring for the way his weight crushes you. All you care about is being wrapped up in his arms where you belong.

He pulls his neck from your chest and kisses your forehead. Then he kisses your nose. Then your lips.

“Pretty,” he breathes, still drunk on the endorphins of the sex so his lips are a little looser than they’d normally be, “Always thought you were pretty.”

“Really?” you prompt, cheeks heating at his confession.

He hums, “Glad you’re finally mine.”

You beam, “No one deserved me as much as you.”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, rolling off of you with a sigh. His cock unplugs your cunt and a gush of your mixed cum comes out, making you whine. He laughs softly, drawing you back into your arms.

You’ve never felt safer and warmer in your life, knowing in that moment that you should have come to Simon all along. There’s no one in the world who would be there for you, more willing and able than he.

this work belongs to rowarn. do not repost to third party websites or use for character ai. reblogs welcome and appreciated!

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut

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muntitled · 5 months ago

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Virginity Files: Enha Edition

▪︎ Summary: how Hyung Line would respond to finding out you're a virgin

▪︎ Cw: Established Relationship, nsfw, virginity kink, Heeseung's part is a little unethical, +18, Minors dni

Heeseung | 희승

Abstinence had never really been a major factor in Heeseung's philosophy. In fact, he believed quite the opposite. Always choosing to forgo self control, in favour of being passionate, hedonistic and sometimes even borderline lecherous in your relationship.

Discussions of sex would plague you early on in your relationship because sexual gratification is something Heeseung refuses to compromise on- and you look too fucking gorgeous in nothing but a simple bathrobe for him to be expected to have pure thoughts.

He kisses up the side of your neck first, with his arms encircling your waist from behind like ivy creeping along the sides of an archaic mansion. You tilt your neck, welcoming his kisses as you rub the rest of your lotion along your forearms, the smell of cocoa butter having dire effects on Heeseung's restraint.

"I could fucking eat you alive," he whispers drunkenly in your ear, causing the sharpest of gasps to leave your throat when you feel his hardened length push up against your ass.

'It's happening' you think idly to yourself as Heeseung's hands crawl up your front until they're dipping into the opening of the robe.

When his fingers make contact with your breasts you freeze and Heeseung groans as he dips his head between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes and tweaks your nipple, his cock growing impossibly harder when he feels your nipples turn to hardened peaks.

"Fuck-" he whispers before dragging you down onto the bed. Your body is limp and unresponsive when Heeseung hovers over you, your back pressed against the comforter as he inspects the expanse of your body with his large domineering hands.

You should've known what you were getting into with a guy like Heeseung.

He lives, eats and breathes sex.

How could you ever be so dumb?

"I need to touch you," he whispers, undoing the belt of your robe.

"You'll be good for me?" He asks- but his movements stop when your hand on his, stops all movements.

"I haven't had sex yet-"

Heeseung only blinks once before flashing you that dazzling smile. "Well obviously we haven't had sex yet- that's what I'm trying to correct."

"Ever. Heeseung." You release a shaky breath. "I mean ever."

It only takes a maximum of 15 infuriating seconds before Heeseung continues to slowly undo the knot of your belt as he says, "Would it be unethical if I said I'm more hard now than I've ever been?”

Jay | 제이

The idea of sex comes pretty early on in the relationship because it's all Jay could ever think about in your presence. Sex had never been anything monumental in his previous relationships- it had always been exceedingly casual, like a mutual business transaction with both parties guaranteed to step away from the venture wholly satisfied.

But here Jay is, on his knees in front of you like a martyr at the altar.

The blazer he had worn is discarded somewhere around him but all that plagues his mind is evil, diabolical thoughts of you. He looks completely wrecked as he kisses up the sides of your legs, his dress shirt half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. At the start of the evening he had looked dapper, not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle on the prada shirt. Ready to meet your patent.

But for you… here, he's a mess.

"What has gotten i-into you?"

You dig your hands into his hair, urging him to stand up but all he does is groan and nuzzle his face further between your thighs.

"You know how beautiful you looked tonight?” he breathes, lifting the fabric to reach more skin, “It was torture having to save face for your parents but secretly wanting to eat you out the whole the night-"

Jay punctuates his mind numbing confession by lifting the ends of your dress and ducking underneath. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your lace underwear and he pulls-

"Jay, stop-"

"Why?" His voice cracks under the weight of his own desire, and he peaks up from under your dress to look up at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, just let me taste you." Your heart shatters. "I know we haven't done anything, and that's fair- maybe you don't trust me yet- I don't know-" as Jay speaks all you can do is shake your head, "But I'm fucking attracted to my girlfriend- I need to be inside of you, I need to taste you and fuck you and hold you-"

"I'm a virgin."

Jay's rambling dissolves into complete and utter silence and you're left to watch as he sits back on his haunches, completely mystified.

"What?"

"That's why we haven't done anything- I-"

Your words of embarrassment completely dissolve in your throat once Jay ducks under the skirts of your dress once more, sending your heart into complete overdrive.

"Tonight's the night then,"

Is all he says with the mission of eating you out with absolute ardour.

Jake | 제이크

Being in a relationship with a boy made of literal prince tendencies meant there were a lot of lecherous acts that you had to coax out of him. When you and Jake first shared your first kiss under New Year's fireworks he had tenderly placed his hand on your cheek as if your skin was forged of porcelain and he muttered, "Is this okay?” Those three words haunted your relationship to the point that you feared your boyfriend saw you as less of a girlfriend, and more a fragile, precious thing he coveted.

These thoughts spin in your head as Jake rubs circles on your inner thigh through the duration of your Friday-night movie.

You couldn't focus on Toy Story 2 because Jake's large hand and its glorious callouses left nothing but goosebumps in their wake, and you're completely and utterly brimming with energy when you pause the movie to gain his attention.

"Can we kiss?" You ask.

You're not sure why you ask but this running theme of always seeking for consent I'd a habit that is difficult to shake off.

"Fuck, if I wasn't thinking about it for the passed hour," he replies before scooping you into his arms. "Get over here."

You're straddling his hips and his mouth crashes against yours, eliciting an unsteady moan from the confines of your throat.

Jake is such an eager kisser. Always eager to please.

Always eager to do good for you. It's like he was purposely trying to kiss away every other guy you may have come into contact with.

If only he knew how embarrassingly small that list really is.

"Woah- Bunny, what're you doing?" Jake's hands are still on the soft sides of your hips when you grind down against his length. You're both fully clothed but the intention of your actions is very much clear. He curls his arms around you as if urging you to stop, but his steadily hardening cock gives him away.

"F-Fuck," he curses under his breath finally relenting and choosing to lean back against the couch as you grinded down against him. He watches you with hooded eyes. "This is how you're feeling tonight, yeah?"

Your bottom lip clamps between your teeth, "Yeah..." and it completely erupts a wave of arousal in the pits of Jake's stomach.

"You want Jake to take care of you?" It's the way in which he says it, like every word had to be meticulously asked in order for you to understand the severity of the situation. It made you feel silly, and juvenile and so incredibly blissful.

"P-please," you whine, locking your arms behind the back of his neck as you grind down harder against the bulge in his pants. "I'm ready."

"What- like ready, ready." Instead of admiring how cute your boyfriend is, all you're able to do is bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll take good care of you." He says eventually, with his large hand rubbing soft circles into your back. "Jake'll take good care of you..."

You need him to make you feel good and that alone has him soaring along the silver lined clouds.

Sunghoon | 성훈

Unlike the rest of Sunghoon's meticulously planned life, falling helplessly in love with you- and then your body- had been something to hit him quite unsuspectingly.

You stormed into his life, and shook up every aspect of his fully functional brain, making him question just how good of an idea it was to invite you to live with him. Seeing as you two were quickly becoming a serious ensemble, Sunghoon knew the time to solidify the relationship was quickly approaching, still, it caught him wholly by surprise when you admitted your inexperience under the soft glow of his overhead light. Wine intermixed with saliva lay on both your lips due to the sweet, drunken kisses you've exchanged on the couch. Sunghoon didn't mean to get handsy. He rarely does.

In fact, Sunghoon prides himself on his restraint when it comes to you. Seeing you, however, in this space, amongst his things, as if you were a part of his property... he lowered the wine glass onto the coffee table to swoop you into his arms.

"D-Did you hear what I said?" You felt embarrassed to have to admit to being a virgin but somehow you felt that consent was needed. Perhaps he may not be completely comfortable being made subject to the daunting task of being someone's 'first'.

"W-We don't have to do this?" You try to whisper. You try to push him away by his chest but his teeth sink into the crook of your neck drawing a heightened gasp out of the confines of your throat.

"We should get you ready first," he whispers instead, knocking all the air out of your lungs in one fell swoop. His hands glide down over your silk pyjamas until he's cupping your sex- the most private, most vulnerable parts of you. "We'll go slow." Sunghoon said with his nose still buried in your neck as he snuck his hand down your pants. You were a gasping mess, so unused to the feeling of it being someone else's hand on that particular spot.

"Just relax, Baby,"

"Sunghoon-"

"Right here," he whispered, drinking in your gasps like they were the finishing remains of crimson red wine. "I'm right here,"

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sleepymarimo · 1 year ago

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𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥!

read cw! summary: how the straw hat pirates treat you, a free use member of the crew pairing: straw hat crew x afab!reader, appropriate characters only ofc! cw: mdni, free use, multiple partners, vaginal sex, oral (m! and f! recieving), creampies, fingering, handjobs, groping, sex machines, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, bondage an: this shit rated... porn. yes im sorry this is posted so late pls forgive me guys i love y'all wc: 2.8k+ for kinktober '23!

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘, as hyper and excitable as he is, doesn't fuck you as often as you thought he would. no, the captain can't say that he's particularly interested in sex.

however, what he loves to do, nearly everyday, is grope you. his hands always scramble to squeeze at your tits or ass, your tummy or thighs, and he'll do it at almost any time of day. when it came to this whole arrangement between you and the crew, he appeared to be the most shameless.

his rubber limbs seemed to sneak up on you at the most random times of day, his head poking out from around a corner and giving you a cheeky smile.

when he does use you for more than a grope or touch, it's always fun- a mutual experience that, more often than not, leaves you both laughing.

is willing to share! if he sees you busy with someone else, he'll interrupt without thought, be it with a smack to your ass or squeeze of your breasts

sometimes he'll let you wear the hat, usually if he's in a particularly good mood

sweet, fun and spontaneous. doesn't really mark you up, intentionally anyway, nor is he ever too rough. he'll make jokes, stretch in odd ways and makes sure you always have a smile on your face

an unintentional exhibitionist. he'll grope and fuck you anywhere, thinking it's funny watching people catch you. he's been yelled at by nami for it, though

finishes everywhere and anywhere, usually getting too caught up in the moment to really care. he's messy, not thinking twice about cumming on your face, in your mouth or on your breasts

likes overstimulating you, pushing you to your limits for the sake of fun

foreplay is not the best. sometimes he just gets too excited and uses his saliva to prep you. aftercare is a lot better! he'll get cuddly and bring snacks, becoming quite clingy with you

at first, 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎 doesn't really take advantage of the free use arrangement. he's rather indifferent about it, perhaps not seeing the appeal.

that all changes after a battle that was much too close, his adrenaline running high. he throws you over his shoulder, harshly tossing you onto the bed and working to get his clothes off while growling at you to get on all fours.

he briefly remembers overhearing you talk to the girls about your times with sanji, and he makes it a mission to outdo the cook in any way he can.

you never know when he'll strike, but when you're standing on the deck and suddenly feel goosebumps rising on your skin, you know just to bend over

acknowledges that you're up for free use, but he's selfish. if he gets the urge and you happen to be with someone else, he'll most likely huff out an 'oi, move over' and get to it. usually though, he prefers to have you to himself, with your attention only on him

after a session with zoro, you'll likely be leaving with bites and bruises. he knows sanji's 'schedule' with you and intentionally fucks you beforehand, wanting to piss off the cook by leaving marks on you

had to be educated on foreplay! the others got mad at him when he put you out of commission for a few days, since he didn't prep you enough. could also use some work with aftercare, since he usually falls asleep

more than okay with taking advantage of the agreement in the sense that he allows himself to be a little bossy, as if it were a transaction (which it kind of is...)

lots of orders and quick commands. a deal is a deal, and he doesn't really build some sort of special attachment with you (like a certain cook will)

finishes in you or on your ass without fail. is pretty smug about it, mostly because he knows that the cook is going to be licking it up from you later

difficult to predict when he'll need you. could be a few times a day or twice a week or once a month. more likely to engage if he's drunk, just had a battle or if he knows sanji is near

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 has a pretty regular schedule when it comes to using you. with what she has to deal with on the ship, she wants nothing more than to plop onto bed, spread her legs and have you eat her out.

she doesn't hesitate to give you orders, somehow doing it in a way that's so sweet that you forget she's simply using you to get off. like luffy, shes also pretty big on groping, or at least, more than you'd expect.

a lot of 'innocent' touches. soft and curious pokes to your ass as you walk by. maybe a squeeze of your tits while the two of you hugged.

she's a touchy woman, up for cuddling and keeping you in the girl's cabin. nami knows the effect she has on you, using it to her advantage. when her cunning hands, she'll feel you up and give you compliments in that sultry tone of hers- the one she uses to get what she wants.

not a fan of sharing, especially with the guys. she is, however, more than willing to share with robin. with the three of you in the girl's quarters, things get pretty intense

very much a tease! she gets you worked up with the lightest of touches until you're begging her for more. nami makes you work for it

the navigator doesn't mind getting messy. she'll finger you, coax you into sucking them dry, then do it all over again. she likes spreading your wetness around, making a point to tease you about how excited you are

'better than all those dirty boys, right?'

head pusher and hair puller. when you're giving her oral, she isn't shy about letting you know what she wants

she likes being treated like a queen, obviously. nami feels high and mighty when you eat her out two or three times in a row, but when she sees how desperate you are for release, she starts coddling you and is quick to return the favor

is the first one to make you squirt, putting the guys to shame

nami is a busy woman. she mostly has you eat her out when she's stressed during the day, cuddles for a bit, then gets back to it. better with foreplay than she is with aftercare, but its fantastic all around

always seeming to hesitate would be 𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐏, who thinks that for some reason, you'll say no to his advances. even after weeks of the arrangement being in place, he'll always ask if what he does is okay.

he’s so so sweet! he touches you like it’s the first time, every time. the sniper is prone to getting heavy bouts of confidence though! with shaky breaths, he’d ask you if he made you feel better than your captain. hell, he loves it when you call him captain.

when he does find it in him to be brave, he always manages to surprise you. he creates all sorts of contraptions, with sex being lighthearted and fun as you go through his projects together.

loves to restrain you, to feel like he has control of you. you help him grow more comfortable and confident, which he appreciates. plus, he gets to let out that pervy side of him that he usually tucks away.

reluctant to share, mostly because he doesn't want to be outdone. however, he and luffy sometimes team up to give you quite the fun experience. lots of jokes and just a hint of playful competitiveness, all of which leave you nothing short of satiated

uses you on a weekly basis, but cozies up to you nearly everyday. he makes jokes about what he has in store for you, making promises of pleasure that leave your stomach in knots

an unintentional marker. might spank you too hard or leave a bruise, which makes him wheeze in embarrassment before he feels a swell of pride. a sort of 'i did that?!' to 'oh… i did that'

ties you up in all sorts of ways

he really does get off on your whines and moans. likes when you're loud

loves when you give him head. the control he has, combined with your sole focus on him, drives him crazy

the sound of you gagging on his cock turns him on more than he'd ever admit. he'll get a confidence burst and start to be more rough

loves finishing down your throat. he feels so confident and cocky, but as soon as he cums he's nervously asking if you're okay

good with foreplay and even better with aftercare… worries about your well-being and shows his gratitude toward you and your willingness to participate. tells you stories after you're all done, lulling you to sleep

when the arrangement was finalized, 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈 was one of the first to take advantage of it. nearly every day he indulges in the sweetness you offer. eating you out is a must! even though sanji is aware that this is just an agreement of sorts, it doesn't stop him from growing a little more attached to you.

sex with him is all encompassing and intense in the softest way possible. he does a good job of making you feel prioritized and wanted, beyond the scope of the free use deal. he's more attentive to your desires and how you want to get fucked on any given day.

truthfully, he's just happy to be able to serve you. funny enough, he tries to be respectful when it comes to groping you around the ship or in public. while luffy might be shameless in how he touches you, sanji does not want to make you uncomfortable or taint the 'lady-like' image he has of you.

he sees you as a meal which must be savored, after all.

sanji prefers more intimate sex, even if it's just an agreement. for this reason, he's not huge on sharing.

sometimes though, while he's getting hot and heavy with you, zoro will just barge in and remind the cook that you're free use, before just… joining

gets pissed off when he spreads your legs and sees zoro's cum leaking out of you. it doesn't stop him from lapping up each drop though, since nothing could keep him from that pussy of yours

sanji uses you on the daily. the cook's appetite is insatiable, but he always makes sure to prioritize your comfort and pleasure

such a sweet talker, swirling his tongue over your clit and insisting that you're the most precious person on the ship

likes leaving subtle marks on your body, on more intimate areas that you'll forget about until you're alone.

the spot below your ear, the insides of your thighs, the delicate skin of your wrist… he thinks that smaller bites and marks have their own charm. big ol' bruises on your collarbone or neck just seem so brutish!

finishes wherever you want him to. there are moments where he'll beg to cum inside your cunt, though. you gladly let him do so.

aftercare king. any food you want is yours. he'll draw a bath for you and eat you out one last time for good measure. gets irritated when he sees the others being too rough with you

miss 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 is a force to be reckoned with. it takes her a few days before she has her first session with you, not because she was hesitant, but because she was waiting. watching.

she can play the long game, reading your cues and how you behave after having sex with other members of the crew. once she's sure she can break you down, she takes you. sex with robin is always a dizzying experience, almost unreal. between the many hands caressing you all over, and that cat-like gaze of hers, it's hard not to lose yourself.

very much a dominant lover, though whether she's soft or mean depends on her mood. regardless, she takes pleasure in watching you writhe and come undone.

it's a power play, a control she isn't fond of relinquishing.

only shares you with nami, franky and occasionally jinbei (if he's up for it), mostly because they can read the mood and follow her lead

weekly user, perhaps thrice a week if she's feeling up for it. most of the time, she's content to get you worked up for her and her only.

you can try to run off to someone else, but she knows she brings a certain element to the bedroom that no one can match

robin is slow and steady, curling her fingers just right and pulling away when you're about to burst. she's the second member to get you to squirt

she's nice to you in the meanest way possible. a lot of 'my, you're quite excited today' and 'such a sweet little thing'

hands on you and your most sensitive areas at all times. rubbing your clit, twisting your nipples and stroking every inch of skin. it's a full body experience.

does not particularly care for marking you up, physically at least. she leaves her own prints on you, something more soul-binding that goes beyond bruises and bitemarks that are bound to fade

takes care of you well before and after sex. she doesn't really indulge in quickies, only having sex when she knows the two of you will have an extended period of time to really enjoy it

on a more serious note, robin is also the one to explain to chopper what is going on between you and the crew. it does seem odd to the little reindeer, but he makes sure to be ready with contraceptives or pelvic exams when you need them.

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐘 always has something special whipped up for you. within the first few days of you agreeing to this free use agreement, he indulged in you.

his dirty mind runs free with you and he doesn't hesitate to try out some new toys. thrusting sex machines and vibrating saddles… he has so many prototypes that he loves watching you squirm on.

he's also been able to give himself…upgrades that make things even more interesting. his favorite would be his detachable dick. he'll attach it to machines, watching and feeling as it effortlessly works into you.

he's not shy about such matters, not at all. sex with him is fun and he does a wonderful job of making you feel high-spirited and confident. your enthusiasm feeds into his pervy side.

down to share with anyone, honestly. this cyborg is up for most anything, given that you are, too

has you on the daily, but you never know when. sometimes it's in the morning, other times while you're getting ready for bed. if he's just restocked his cola though, you can expect a round or two

gives you his detachable dick and lets you use it as a dildo, so he can feel your cunt around him even when he's working in the shop

he eats you out and makes it messy. he spits and slurps as if your cunt was cola-flavored

likes getting head the same way. the sight of you with drool lining your lips and chin, mouth stuffed with his dick... he might let out an 'ow!' right then and there

doesn't mark you up intentionally. he just does his thing and makes sure you feel good. if he happens to leave some marks, he doesn't think too much of it

gets a little pissed off when zoro or luffy mark you up too much. he thinks they don't have to be that rough...

enjoys cumming on your chest and breasts. he's a simple man with simple pleasures

big on foreplay, but could work on his aftercare. he likes getting you worked up, likes to see you eager, but afterwards he's just so out of it. usually falls asleep and maybe hooks an arm around you

resident pervert 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊 does not hesitate. once the agreement was set into motion, your panties were quick to be snatched up.

the skeleton is a voyeur, preferring to watch as opposed to actively participating. even when you know he's spying on you, you pretend not to notice. whether it's you masturbating or having sex with another member of the crew, you can bet that he's peeping in.

brook is also very much into groping, never missing the opportunity to squeeze your plump flesh when you walk by.

truthfully, he just revels in being a pervert, especially when he knows there aren't any consequences.

up for sharing in the sense that he likes to watch. some members are more okay with it than others

he's scared the living daylights out of usopp, has been threatened by zoro and gotten encouragement from franky. he just laughs though, finding a thrill in getting caught

his eye (sockets?) are on you pretty frequently. at the end of everyday, he'll ask for your panties and pockets them with gusto

it's common for brook to ask for your panties after you're done having sex with someone else. he just thinks it's so naughty!

he'll walk by you and ask you to flash him, losing his mind every time you lift your shirt and show him your breasts

his groping is never hard enough to leave marks. he likes the squishy skin, since he's all bone, so he just has a hand on you and absentmindedly squeezes your breasts like you're a walking stress ball

like he always asks for your panties, he always asks for permission to touch and grope you

one of the most respectful would be 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐈. it takes him a while to settle into the whole arrangement. a part of him did see it as taboo, especially considering that he's a fishman.

however, he realizes that what he asks of you doesn't have to be inherently sexual. that's why, jinbei enjoys having you do mundane tasks for him, all while completely nude. his eyes are never lewd or hungry, but thoughtful as he watches you fold his clothes or make his bunk.

ever the respectful man, he doesn't want to leer at you as if you were an object. things build slowly and intimately between the two of you.

it starts as you wandering around without clothes, then it's mutual masturbation, then eventually he's fucking you.

this fishman prefers to have you to himself. he wants sex to happen in a comfortable atmosphere. it's a calming, almost therapeutic environment that he prefers to navigate you through, without the presence of others

would not mind if robin joined in, seeing as she's mature and would enjoy the vibes

he prefers not to have sex when he knows he's in a bad mood. he doesn't want to let such trivial, emotional matters guide him, but sometimes it's not avoidable, so…

marks come in the form of spanks, red patches on your ass that he's quick to soothe with a rough palm. it's a way for him to get his anger and frustration out, though the next day, once he's calmed down, he's quick to apologize

cumming inside you seems so taboo that he finds himself doing it more than he should. it's a guilty pleasure that he denies himself less and less as time goes on

sex is weekly, sometimes less. he has a fairly good handle on himself and makes it a point not to lose himself in pure lust.

he also very much takes into consideration that you're busy with others, so he doesn't want to overwhelm you

once this little arrangement is finalized, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 never worry about being alone or untended to. they know better than to leave their little free use doll unsatisfied.

when you're sick or unwell, it's everyone's problem. though you're the one being used, you're so protected and well cared for, like their secret treasure.

even if some don't explicitly express their gratitude, anyone can acknowledge that this agreement takes a toll on you in one way or another.

luffy lends you his hat, zoro shares his sake, nami loans you money, usopp makes you trinkets, sanji lets you get first pick on dessert, robin teaches you how to read poneglyphs, franky designs machines for you, brook plays you special tunes and jinbei lets you ride on all the whale sharks you want.

overall, it's a pretty sweet deal!

taglist: @queen-of-elves, @who-the-hockeysticks, @sxhy-town, @flower-hua, @iwannachokeontojifushiguroscock (thank y'all for being patient 🫶)

#one piece smut #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #nami x reader #usopp x reader #sanji x reader #robin x reader #franky x reader #brook x reader #jinbei x reader

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kleftiko · 1 year ago

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❦ CHERRY SMOKE CLOUDS

“upon learning that your new plug is a virgin, you come up with a new way to pay for your weed”

cw: slight dubcon (sex under the influence), virginity loss (choso), car sex, corruption kink, unprotected sex, blowjobs

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

You met Choso through your little sister's friend.

Without knowing Megumi and Yuji were over, you started ranting to Nobara about how your plug was moving across the country, and it was a travesty. When she gave you edibles, she packed them in cute little heart baggies, and you were never gonna find another one as good as her.

It wasn't until you turned the corner that you saw her and her two friends lounging on the couch.

Luckily, Yuji spoke up, telling you his brother grows and you could get from him.

That got you his number, and having known Yuji, you expected his brother to be a much more enthusiastic texter. You hardly expected one- to two-word responses, absolutely no emojis, and a period at the end of a sentence.

But if it got you what you wanted, you were fine with that.

Most transactions were made through Yuji or Nobara, and despite the lack of customer service that you got from your old plug, his stuff was good, so you couldn't complain.

Then, one day, Yuji messaged you, saying he was having a party at his place and you should come meet his brother. You didn't see why not, so you and Nobara got dressed up together and went.

It was unsurprising that there were a lot of people—Yuji loved making friends, after all—so it took a minute to find him. But he had a wide smile when he saw you two, giving you hugs and telling you his brother was in the garage.

You didn't have to excuse yourself cause your sister was already gone by the time you turned back, so you made your way to the garage.

Inside, there was only one person. A taller man with longer hair who was taking stuff out of the trunk of a car, and when he turned to you, you noticed his tired eyes looking at you. He was cute.

"What?" He asked.

"Choso?" You asked, and he nodded. You smiled a bit and said, "Y/N."

A look of recognition flashed across his face.

"Yuji told me you'd be coming." He then lifted the box in his arms slightly, as if to show you the alcohol. "Leave it to my brother to think a six-pack would be enough for a party."

You couldn't help the amused hum that passed your lips as your gaze traced the strained muscles in his arms.

"Want some help?"

After the two of you brought in a couple cases of liquor, you followed him back to the garage. Besides your sister and her friends, you didn't know anyone, and you figured at least Choso would have some weed on him if nothing else.

He leaned against his car and fished a lighter out of his pocket before looking at you and holding it up as an invitation. You smiled and moved to stand in front of him as he took out a case from his other pocket, placing the joint from inside between his lips.

"You don't wanna hang out with your brother?" You asked as he lit it.

Choso just raised an eyebrow at you, blowing out the smoke slowly and drawing your eyes to his lips.

"You don't wanna hang out with your sister?" He retaliated casually, holding out the blunt for you.

With a couple puffs of your own, you shift your weight onto your other leg. Choso's soft gaze stays on you, waiting for you to continue.

"Why smoke out here?" You asked, and he shrugged.

"Not a fan of people." He explained, and you gave him a look. He shakes his head, "don't make it seem like I'm a loner; I just don't wanna hang out with my younger brother's friends."

"Not a fan of younger people?" You don't give him time to answer before you say, "pretty sure I'm younger than you."

"You're fine." It's casual in the way he says it, but it does something to you, and you end up shifting again when he hands you the blunt.

His eyes flicked down to your legs, taking notice of your movement. "Wanna sit?"

Choso patted the hood of the car beside him as an offer, and you looked at his fingers sitting on top of the metal. They were long and lanky, with prominent veins running through his hand and up his arm. It led you back to his face, which is waiting for your answer.

So you hopped on top of the hood, taking one more puff than is courteous, but Choso didn't say anything as he took it back.

It was a couple minutes of silence; the two of you smoked until it was just the filter, and Choso threw it away. You started to feel the familiar feeling of your head becoming heavier—or, you were just more aware of the weight of it—and you sank back onto your hands with contentment.

"So, were you just here for the weed?" Choso's voice was pretty monotone, but you could tell he was making a joke.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you noticed the red creeping up in his tired eyes.

"I mean, I won't say no if you wanna share another, but I think hanging out with you is fine by itself." You admitted, and he shook his head at you.

A couple blinks was all it took to remind you that he really did grow some good shit, and you grabbed the bottom of his shirt to tell him the compliment when you looked up at his face and forgot your train of thought.

Instead, you tugged on his shirt and coaxed him to stand in front of you as you tilted your head up at him.

"You don't look like what I thought you would." You drawled out.

"What'd you expect?" He prompted.

You pouted, "pink hair."

Choso let out a soft chuckle, and you almost melted at the sight of his smile. Unintentionally, you leaned closer to him, your eyes focused on the bridge of his nose, where you noticed a faint scar that ran across it. With your noses almost touching, you looked up into his eyes, admiring the way they locked onto you.

"You're hotter than I thought." You mumbled, and his eyebrows raised slightly.

Choso pulled back.

"If you think this'll get you free stuff, you're outta luck."

You giggled and let go of his shirt, leaning back onto your hands with a lazy smile.

"I'd tell you that even if you weren't my plug." You said. "Though, I'm sure a lot of your customers offer favours instead of money."

Once again, he shook his head at you, his smile mirroring yours. You let your head fall back, feeling the stretch in your neck as you stared at the ceiling.

"Wouldn't blame you, sex while high is incredible."

"I wouldn't know." He said and you snapped your head at him.

"You've never had sex after smoking?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you understand what he was saying.

"You've never had sex?" You clarified, and Choso shakes his head in agreement, unbothered by it.

"Never had the time." He explained, and at the back of your clouded mind, you recalled Nobara mentioning that Yuji was raised by his older brother.

You slid off the car, standing toe to toe with Choso as you looked up at him. He didn't move, and you could smell his cologne and soft hints of weed.

"Do you wanna know what it's like?" You whispered, gazing up at him through your lashes.

The thought that you could give this man everything made that small pulse of arousal that's been sitting between your legs light on fire. As you stared into Choso's eyes, a mischievous smile played on your lips. The anticipation of what you could do with him sent a rush of excitement through your body.

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Choso bent down and attached his lips to yours.

He tasted smokey, but it didn't bother you as you brought your hands up into his messy hair. His large hands travelled down your sides and roughly pulled you closer to him. Your knee bumped between his legs, and he uttered a deep moan into your mouth.

Detaching yourself from him, you grabbed his shirt and tugged him to switch places with him, pushing his legs into the hood of his car and forcing him to sit atop it.

Your hands then moved to his jeans as you kissed him again, undoing the button and zipper as you bit his lips. Choso let out a little whine, shakey fingers grasping at your own shirt when you stuck your hand down his pants and cupped his half-hard cock. As you stroked him, you scattered kisses and bites down his neck and along his jaw, leaving nothing to catch the hisses he let out of his mouth in response to your attack. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as his breathing grew heavier. The intensity of the moment heightened as you whispered in his ear, teasing him with promises of what was to come.

Then you sank your knees onto the concrete floor between his legs, pulling down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his cock and balls, your mouth watering at the size.

As you looked up into his eyes, you gently licked his red tip and watched him shut his eyes in pleasure, his hand coming to the top of your head. Then you took him to the back of your throat, eliciting a loud and wanton moan from the man above you. Despite slapping his other hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, you felt a shiver at the noise, knowing that you were driving him wild with something so simple. With each movement of your mouth, you could feel his grip on your hair tighten, urging you to go deeper. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you lost yourself in the intoxicating pleasure of giving him ecstasy. His dick was slobbered with your spit, and besides the faint music coming from the house, the garage was filled with the disgusting sounds of you slurping and choking on his cock and Choso's beautiful stuttering noises of bliss.

Your eyes rolled back at the taste of him; the salty precum and weight of his dick on your tongue had you rocking your neglected pussy into your heel. When his moans and whimpers started to catch at the back of his throat, you cupped his heavy balls in your hands, gently massaging them as you continued to pleasure him. The intensity of the moment heightened as you felt his body tense and his breathing become more erratic, signalling that he was about to cum. With a mischievous smile, you increased the speed and pressure of your movements, determined to push him over the edge and make him lose control completely.

The grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan, his hips bucking uncontrollably against your touch. The raw desire in his eyes fueled your own excitement, and you revelled in the power you had over him in the moment. As he finally reached his climax, you continued to stroke him through his release, savouring the feeling of his pulse against your tongue and his cum running down your throat.

His tired eyes were glazed with lust when you popped him out and stood up. His chest was breathing heavily, but that didn't stop him from grabbing your face and pulling you into a searing kiss, licking up the drops of his cum that slipped from your lips. You moaned at his eagerness to clean his own grime from your face and ran your hands down his clothed body, fingernails scraping along his muscles as they twitched.

"Please," He begged between kisses. "Please fuck me."

You pulled away, looking at the man in front of you with hunger.

"Back seat." You commanded, and Choso listened to you.

The two of you stumbled to the car, pawing at each other as you removed your clothes. By the time you shut the door behind you, the two of you were in your underwear. Choso was hard once again as you mounted him.

Taking off your bra, his eyes locked onto your tits before eagerly going for them with his mouth. but you grabbed his hair and pulled him back. He nearly whimpered at the denial, but you were firm.

"I need to see your face when I take your virginity, baby." You told him.

Choso nodded his head and helped you two rid yourself of the last bit of clothing. Grabbing his cock, you lined it up with your soaking lips as Choso's fingers fluttered over your hips in anticipation. You looked at him, only to find his watery eyes locked on your pussy as he swallowed harshly. You were sure that if you led him on any longer, he would start crying.

"Choso," your sweet voice cooed.

When he locked eyes with yours, you sheathed yourself over his cock, watching firsthand as his mouth dropped open and his eyes rolled back as a broken moan pushed past his lips. It was filthy and erotic, and it made you lift your hips and slam back down onto him just to see his reaction again. His body trembled beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he surrendered to the pleasure coursing through him. The intensity of the moment fueled your own desire, igniting a primal need to dominate and explore every inch of his body.

"That feel good, baby?" You asked, knowing he couldn't answer. "Feel good to get fucked in the back of your car?"

Choso whimpered.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his ear, as you whispered, "You love being used like this for your first time, don't you?"

The sound of his desperate moans only fueled your attack further, pushing you to take him even harder.

"Your cock feels so good inside me, Choso." You continued to enjoy his reactive body. "so big, I don't think I can just fuck you once."

In his first bout of control, Choso grabbed the back of your head and shut you up with a kiss, hips lifting against yours in desperation.

"So fucking perfect." He managed to huff out, and you rewarded him with a squeeze of your pussy, making him lose the rhythm of his thrusts. The intensity of the moment heightened as Choso's grip tightened on your head, his kiss silencing your words. With each desperate thrust of his hips, he struggled to maintain the little bit of control he had.

He managed to gasp, overcome with the pleasure you were giving him, "You're absolutely incredible." The squeeze of your pussy caused him to lose his rhythm, further intensifying the passion between you.

You smiled wickedly and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Yea?" You asked. "Wanna cum inside me?"

It was as if a switch had been flipped. His eyes darkened with desire, and a primal growl escaped his lips. Without hesitation, he grasped your hips firmly and increased the pace, thrusting into you with an urgency that matched your own. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, and you let out your own noises of pleasure at Choso's actions.

Feeling your climax near, you dug your nails into his bare chest, urging him on. The intensity of the moment consumed both of you as you reached the peak of pleasure together, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy. Spurts of his cum painted the inside of you, making you moan at the feeling before collapsing against him, sweaty bodies entangling. For a long moment, heavy breathing was the only sound in the hot car. As the air slowly cooled, you both basked in the afterglow.

With a satisfied smile, Choso gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face and whispered, "That was incredible."

You breathed out a laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and cuddling into him.

"Yea," you agreed. "We need to smoke together more often."

#kleftiko’s kinktober #jjk x reader #jjk smut #choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #choso kamo x you #kamo choso x reader #kamo choso smut

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sweetimpurity · 2 months ago

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*ೃ༄ੈ✩ Day 2 woohoo! Miggy got me blushing in this one. enjoy my loves! cw: dirty talk wc: 1.6k. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- I might change the posting schedule so be on the lookout for that! But I’ll find the groove after the first few days! masterlist>>

“I knew that dress would be perfect on you…” Miguel says. Eyeing you across the table like he wants to eat you up right here and now. Clinks of silverware against porcelain and expensive glassware fill the restaurant, along with the soft hum of conversation, low warm chandeliers and candlelight. Date night as usual. This has become the new normal. This all started as a sort of transactional thing. You were his arm candy and he was your wallet. A big businessman CEO like him doesn’t have a ton of time to foster new deep relationships. But he’s made an effort to spend time with you. At least enough time to do you and deposit 10k in your bank account by the time you wake up.

Truth is, he likes you a lot. More than he’s liked being around anyone else. It’s more than just sex and money but those do tend to be the most exciting parts of this relationship. And he’s a particular man.

“I usually wouldn’t pick this color for myself but you have a good eye… I really love it, thank you.” You nod with a knowing smile, smoothing down the silky material over your lap. A dark sort of crimson maroon color. Very flattering. And he always loves you in red. “Hopefully you don’t bust the zipper open like last time…”

You tease him, raising your brow his way and sipping your drink through the mini straw. He grins, loving that look in your eyes and remembering the most recent time he bought you a new dress and the state it was in after he was done with you. “Can you blame me? It was in the way…” He hums with a chuckle, making you laugh. Eyes meeting across the table. And you can feel the toe of his dress shoe press into your shin, rubbing down to the joint of your ankle. Breaking eye contact when it gets too flustering.

“Are you wearing the other gift I bought you…?” He asks with that same annoying smirk on his face. Sipping his strong drink, the ice cube clinking around the glass. “...yesss…” You drawl softly, looking down at the table to avoid his eyes. A flush over your cheeks at the thought, and that his mind is already going there. “What color?” He asks.

You look up. Cheeks beet red at his blunt question. The embarrassment rising in your chest and making your knees squeeze together under the table. “Uh… black…” You hum, looking down again.

He loves this. The images searing into his mind of those panties he got you. In every color the store had. And you chose the black ones tonight. “You’re telling the truth?” He asks. His tone is soft and yet confronting, teasing. He wants to hear you say it. To watch you struggle to say the words. “Of course…” You whisper, looking up at him and wondering where his head is at now.

“Prove it. Show me.” He says. Your eyes widening and heart beating. You’re in a high end five star restaurant and he wants what? “Show you? I can’t just lift my dress up…” You laugh nervously, looking around and feeling like everyone knows. That embarrassment sitting deep in your chest and making you flushed. Knowing your black panties must be sticky by now.

“No, don't expose yourself in this restaurant full of people, baby…” He scoffs. Brow furrowing at your words and giving you a look as if that should have been obvious. The embarrassment persists. Of course that’s not what he meant. But what does he mean? “Take them off and show them to me. Then I’ll believe you…” He says. Your eyes blow wide again.

The waiter comes over to refill your waters. Asking how the food is and exchanging simple pleasantries with Miguel. Miguel, who’s acting like everything is normal and nothing’s going on. Glancing around and wondering if anyone overheard the conversation. If they know you’re wet from hearing him talk to you like that.

“Thank you…” Miguel smiles charmingly as the waiter walks again. Putting his focus back on you after. An expectant look on his face. “Well?”

“Don’t look at me.” You whisper, willing to do what he asks but his gaze feels like a bright spotlight. “No, I’m gonna look at you. Are you gonna do it or do you need some help?” He asks, reaching his hand under the table and grazing your knee with his fingers. Making you jump. Definitely not. That’s too much in a place like this.

“No no no I… I’ll do it.” You sigh. Looking down and mentally scolding yourself for loving this. The way your pussy is beating for him right now.

He leans back in his seat with a satisfied smile. Subtly glancing around to make sure no one’s looking. No one needs to be involved in their little game. His eyes focus back on you, watching your arms working under the table cloth.

It’s long enough that the table cloth covers your lap and along with the fabric napkin, it’s almost like nothing’s happening at all. But your fingers hook into the edges of your black lacy panties and pull them down. Quickly lifting your hips to be able to pull them down your thighs. Cheeks flushed red and heart beating wildly. Beyond embarrassed but hot and bothered at the same time. The feelings are one in the same.

He leans forward now, happy with the progress you’ve made and that look on your face. Watching you lean forward to pull the panties down your legs and past your heels. All the way off.

Taking a second to situate yourself and look around to make sure no one noticed, the lacy panties are balled up in your hand. It feels like evidence. Like something you’d get in trouble for. And the fact that he’s just watching you do all this makes you even hotter for him.

“Here take them…” You whisper, reaching under the table with the clump of lace to give to him. But he extends his hand above the table. Brow raised in expectation and a smile on his lips. “I’ll take them up here…”

He’s having too much fun with this. Watching your cheeks flush again and again and eyes widen. It’s adorable and hot at the same time that you’re such a little bunny, getting off on this. The waiter walks by again and you flinch, keeping your hands under the table. Waiting for the perfect moment. Fearing you’ll get caught and the embarrassment will be too much to bear. His big hand, his heavy silver watch, that stupid smirk. Such an asshole.

“Here here take them-” You jump, shoving them into his hand with both hands as if to keep them concealed. He lets out a small whistle between his teeth. To your horror, letting the clump of lace unravel over the table for a moment. “Miguel!” You gasp, looking around and feeling your heart race.

“Damn, I can’t believe you just did that…” He laughs, grabbing the panties in his hand and looking around too to make sure no one saw. His words ringing in your ears. “You told me to do it!” You whine, pouting at him.

He laughs again. Looking down at the pretty panties as he admires them on his lap. Before clumping them up and putting them in his pocket. “And you’re a very good girl, baby…”

“Oh my god…” You groan, covering your face with your hands. It’s like he’s doing everything he can to make you horny and humiliated at the same time. But you can hear him giggling across the table. “I’ll take the check whenever you get a chance…” You hear him say to the waiter. Peering through your fingers and ultimately pulling your hands away from your face. Cheeks hot and red.

“I think my girl needs some special attention tonight…” He says softly but loud enough that the waiter who’s walking away could probably overhear. But if he did hear, he didn’t make it obvious. “Miguel O’hara.” You sigh and scold, pursing your lips together in a thin line and clenching your hands into fists on the table.

“Oh come on…” He hums. Big hands crossing the table to grab yours and hold them.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good tonight baby… just the way you like.” He whispers. Holding onto your hands so you couldn't possibly pull them away. And you’re just shocked. “Miguel stop…” You sigh, utterly embarrassed and flustered, his hands pulling yours gently closer to him.

“... fill you up pretty girl… just like always right? You want that?” He taunts, tilting his head and bringing your hands up to his lips, pressing them to your knuckles. You swallow dryly and nod silently.

“Say it. Say you want it.” He hums.

You nod again, eyes glued to the juncture of his lips on your skin.

“Words, baby… say the words. Say you want me to fuck you and fill you up.”

He’s just being mean now. But it’s working. Damn him, it’s working so well. “I… want…” He watches with a brow raised and a growing smirk on his lips.

“I want… you to fuck me and fill me up…” You barely whisper. Positively dripping for him, slick between your thighs squeezing together under the table. “Please...” He corrects you. He wants to hear it.

“Miguel… I want you to fuck me and fill me up…please” You say in finality. An ache in your thighs that’s impossible to ignore. Needing him more than ever. More than anything.

“Since you asked so nicely, of course, whatever you want, baby.” He whispers, a dark glint in his eyes. Satisfied and happy watching you squirm. “Let's get out of here…” He tosses a wad of cash on the table. More than enough to cover the bill that’s taking too long to come out. He can’t fuck you fast enough.

Tag list: @slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist please comment on my masterlist post or I might not see it! thank you!

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 2 months ago

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leather's in season

pairing: re8! chris x reader

tags/cws: semi-clothed sex, semi-public sex, implied to have had sex in the past, coworkers, p in v, cockwarming, the gloves stay on! (until they don't)

summary: chris and reader are bored on a stupid stakeout on a mission, waiting for hours in chris' car, and they're cold, pent up with frustration, and...

a/n: the gloves have me in a chokehold (jk but i wish they did)

div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.6k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @faysslut @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

Contrary to popular belief, the worst part of fighting BOWs for a living is not the constant threat of death. It's the boredom in between the thrill of fighting — protecting the world from alphabetical viruses that can turn cities into zombies overnight gives you a sense of purpose. Sitting in the passenger seat of Chris' jeep makes you feel… absolutely nothing.

Okay, fine. It makes you feel something. It wouldn't be that big of a deal if you weren't trapped in the car with this man, with nothing to talk about, nothing to even think about besides the one drunken night you've avoided discussing for almost two months. You could go the rest of your life without mentioning it, and so could Chris. Except, when he takes his coat off, it's impossible not to notice his muscular frame, and when he groans in exasperation, it sounds so similar to that one time when —

"What?" Chris says, sounding ticked off, though you haven't done anything. You've only thought about doing things. Things you know he likes, for that matter.

"What do you mean 'what'?"

"You're staring at me."

"There's not much else to look at, since you're taking up like half my field of vision."

An exaggeration, of course, but he is a large man. In many ways.

"It's fucking cold in here. Can I turn on the heat?"

"No. You'll burn through the battery. And it's not even that cold."

Men. They'll wear basketball shorts in the snow. Of course he'd say it's not that cold.

Chris pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

"Could you at least roll down a window if you're going to do that in here?"

"No," he says, "it's cold out there."

"I thought it wasn't that cold," you mock him.

He lights it despite your protests. He's the boss here — a fact he reminds you of at every opportunity. "It isn't. But it would be—"

You snatch the cigarette from between his lips, take a drag and blow the smoke into his face.

"What the fuck was that for?"

You not-so-subtly go into a coughing fit, having never smoked before. You hand it back to Chris, looking off to the side, knowing he'll make fun of you if you look at him. He takes it from you gingerly like it's a prized possession.

Minutes go by, the cigarette discarded in the ashtray in the center console, you pop a stick of gum in your mouth.

"Can I have one?" Chris asks.

"It's the last piece. Sorry." You're not really that sorry.

Chris is almost 50, but he pouts like a baby. It's almost cute. Almost. It would be if he hadn't made a fuss earlier.

"You can have it," you say, "I don't really want it anymore."

"Okay…" he says, suspicious — no, curious — about how you plan to exchange the gum you're offering him.

"Come here," you beckon him with a finger.

It's a trick as old as he is, but if nothing else, sitting in this car has made the both of you desperate, so he takes the bait and lets your lips touch.

It's quick, you play it off as a simple transaction, but Chris is nothing if not predictable. He grabs you by the cheek and kisses you again, harder this time, just as you expected him to — he takes control because he can.

"Get in the backseat," he says with a commanding, yet matter-of-fact tone that sounds similar to the one he uses with you in the field.

"Is that an order?" You ask, teasing him as he gets out of the driver's side, closes one door, opens another, and slides into the backseat.

Your eyes meet through the mirror on the windshield.

"You wanna stay warm, I'll help you, but I expect you to drop the attitude."

You want to be warm, and more importantly, you want to be closer to Chris, so you shut your mouth and get in the backseat.

Age, for Chris, just means extra gray hairs on his head and a greater proclivity for aches and pains after long days in the field. He's yet to lose that animalistic urge to tear your clothes off your body.

Your gear is long forgotten, lying idle in the front seat, but your turtleneck – skin-tight like Chris' – is very much still covering your top-half, a hindrance to Chris. His fingers fiddle with the fabric but you're quick to push his hands away.

"I told you, it's fucking cold."

"But I wanna see you," he says, with the voice of a middle-aged man, but the conviction of a whiny child, "I bet you look so pretty."

"You already know what I look like," you say, "unless you've forgotten."

"I could never forget that," he says between hungry kisses, "I've been thinking about the way you looked that night everyday since, which is why I want to see you like that again."

His lips find your neck, then his teeth tug your earlobe. "I'll make it worth your while," he says into the shell of your ear.

You agree to let him take your shirt off because when he's not demanding, he's convincing.

But he can't will his hands to heat up and he can't convince you that they're not cold. You shiver against his touch.

His solution is simple: keep the gloves on.

The feeling of leather against your skin is new, but Chris' deft touch is familiar. You know what his fingers feel like inside you, rubbing against your g-spot, making you cum with his hand over your mouth in the fucking supply closet. Only the location has changed, instead of a door, there are tinted windows. No one else is around (you hope), you can only hear the occasional voices of members of your squad coming from the radio.

You agree to strip when Chris offers you his coat (in addition to a place on his lap) to keep you warm. With you head tipped back, resting on his shoulder and his hands between your thighs, you say, without a thought in your mind, "I want you to fuck me."

You hear his breath hitch and feel his cock strain against his pants and you know he feels the same.

"Fuck, okay, but I'm not waiting for you to get comfy. I am not getting frostbite on my dick."

"Don't worry, I can handle it."

He hums, knowing you're likely overestimating your abilities but dying to be inside you nonetheless.

He lifts you up momentarily and you hear the clink of his belt and the zipper of his pants. He takes them down just enough to get his cock out. Without warning, he takes your hips and shoves it inside you, one deep thrust burying himself to the hilt.

It makes you gasp, it makes you whimper. Arousal makes you overconfident and the stretch is payback for your hubris.

"You're fine," he says. "You can take it."

"It's too much, I-I can't."

"Not my fault you're so fucking tight. Shoulda known based on your attitude."

"Well, your dick is almost as big as your ego."

It's hard to insult him when you're naked – aside from his coat – perched on his cock.

He laughs, rare and sweet – and proud. "Not my fault, either."

Chris' fingers, still covered by his leather gloves, play with your clit, making your walls flutter around him, every spasm elicits a grunt from him, and it only spurs you on – you try to lift yourself up, prepared to ride him like it's your life's purpose, like it's the mission you're in the middle of fucking nowhere to complete. He stops you, grabs your hips and holds them steady against his.

"What the fuck?" you say, pissed off (about how much his insistence on controlling the situation turns you on). "I thought you were gonna fuck me. This isn't fucking, I'm just sitting on your dick."

"Oh, it's not fucking?" he says. "Guess you're easy to please then, 'cause all I've done is stick my dick in you and you're about to fucking cum."

"I am not," you say, in a whine, as your cunt betrays you, clamping down around him, making it nearly impossible for him to fuck you if he wanted to.

Instead of taunting you, he takes his gloves off, shoves two fingers in your mouth and rubs your clit with more precision, more dedication to this mission.

"Cum for me," he whispers in your ear when he knows you're close.

You try to talk back. "Is that an or– oh my fucking god," your orgasm cuts you off. His hand covers your mouth before you can scream his name, and it's probably better that way. You're embarrassed enough as it is when you notice that you've soaked the front of his pants.

"You didn't–" you start, realizing he didn't cum. You're not sure if you should be grateful or offended.

"No, I have self-control," he says.

It's fucking reverse psychology whether he intends it to be or not – insulting you just makes you even more determined to make him cum, to pay him back.

"Oh yeah?" you challenge him as you sink to your knees.

He doesn't respond, doesn't protest. He lets you suck him dry.

You watch him go through the stages of pure bliss while you bask in the knowledge that you did this to him.

It's quiet finally, no arguing, no skin-on-skin, no moaning.

Except for the radio, which you realize you forgot to silence.

"I guess we have some explaining to do," you say to Chris.

"No need," says the voice on the other side, "we heard you loud and clear."

#chris redfield smut #chris redfield x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #chris redfield #liztober

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

Note

i recently started following you and i absolutely love your writing! you have such great talent!

no pressure at all and feel free to scream at me if this is out of your boundaries (i read ur guidelines so it shouldn’t be but you never know). I’m curious if you could write reader with literally anyone, just in denial that they like them. like she used to go out with really shifty guys and is just appalled that this person actually likes them

(this definitely isn’t self-indulgent at all….)

Thanks for requesting baby! (I would never scream at you lmao) I did this with dealer Eddie, hope that's alright :)

cw: weed, mention of transactional sex

dealer!Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Eddie’s grinning big when he opens the door to his trailer. He takes off his headphones, hanging them around his neck. You can hear Black Sabbath still playing from the speakers.

“Hey.” His voice has a slightly raspy quality to it, and you wonder if he’s been singing or smoking. “You lookin’ for a fix, pretty?”

You grasp the strap of your bag self-consciously, forcing a bouncy “yep” past your lips. Eddie’s got a way of saying things that makes you feel awkward and flighty, like your heart might lurch right out of your ribcage at any moment. It should be routine by now, but you’ll probably never get over it.

Eddie only nods and opens the door further, inviting you in. He sets a hand on your back as you go by, and you try not to look as shy as the touch makes you feel.

“Same as usual?”

“Yeah, thanks.” You lean against the counter while he crosses the room to the drawer where he keeps his stash.

You’ve been coming to Eddie for years now. You weren’t exactly friends in high school but you were always friendly, and every time you leave his place you’re freshly shocked by the realization that you actually really like him. You appreciate that he keeps it business. Well, as business as anything can be with Eddie. Flirting is just part of the package, but he doesn’t try to smoke your stuff after he sells it to you and doesn’t seem to expect anything other than money in return. Shitty as it sounds, a dealer like that can be hard to come by in your experience.

“I’ve been missing you, sweet thing,” he says, taking out a big zip lock bag of bud and a smaller one to portion yours into. “Thought you might’ve found someone else to keep you happy.”

You don’t respond for a second, and Eddie’s head tilts up from where he’s picking through the bag, eyebrows going up in intrigue.

“I was seeing this guy for awhile,” you say, looking sideways out the window. “He got pre-rolls from someone else, and he’d let me have them sometimes.”

“Well shit, I can roll for you if it’ll keep you coming over.”

You look at Eddie in surprise. He grins at you, jutting his chin towards the couch.

“Sit down, I’ll get you set up.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say.

“Gotta keep my favorite customer happy, don’t I?” You don’t move, and his smile softens into something more genuine. “It’s no problem, just sit down. Tell me about this guy. Does he treat you right?”

You follow directions, going to sit on the less saggy and dingy-looking of the couch cushions while Eddie bends over the counter across from you. “Not really,” you say indifferently. As if thinking about it doesn’t send a dull ache blooming through your middle. “We aren’t together anymore.”

Eddie glances up at you, something odd flitting across his expression. “That sucks,” he says bluntly. “I’m sorry. I mean, it sounds like he sucked, so I guess I’m not sorry that it’s over even if I’m sorry that you’re sad. Are you sad?”

A little laugh startles out of you. “Not really,” you say, and it’s halfway to honest. You’d been sad to break up with him, but Eddie is right; he sucked. You’re not really sad it’s over either.

“Good.” He nods, appeased. “Thought I’d have to go beat someone up or something.”

You snort, and Eddie’s mouth drops open in offense. He looks back down at the roll, sticking his tongue in his cheek as he shakes his head.

“Feels like you’re not taking my threat of vengeance super seriously.”

“No, I am,” you laugh. “I am, it’s just—you don’t seem like someone who wins a ton of fights.”

“Ah!” He clutches a fist over his heart, looking at you in absolute betrayal. “So little faith! I’ve fought worse monsters than your jilted beaux, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m guessing it’s a little different in real life than in your game.”

Eddie pauses for a half a second, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far in your teasing, but then he bends back over the table, bringing the paper to his mouth. “Right.” He runs his tongue quickly across the roll. “Well, anyway, I have a spear in my garage if you want me to give it a try.”

You smile at the thought of Eddie jabbing his (in your imagination, plastic and nerdy) spear at your most recent ex.

“Thanks, but I think I’m good,” you say.

He shrugs. “Your loss. I’d have taken off my shirt for the battle, but I guess you’ll have to get that show another time.”

You laugh, crossing your legs as he starts on another roll. “Hey, you don’t actually have to roll all this,” you say. “I won’t stop coming to you.”

“I don’t mind it,” he replies, packing the next with easy, practiced movements. “Unless you’re in a rush or something. Do you have to go?”

“No, I’m…I’m good.” You’ve never spent this long at Eddie’s place before. It’s usually that you show up, he gives you a bag, you pay, and you leave. You’ve never taken much time to survey the trailer, the way Eddie moves around the cramped furniture with such ease or the way the windows let in just enough light to make his skin look softer and his eyes browner. “You can leave half of it, though, if that’s okay. I’ve still got a bowl at home.”

“Whatever you want.” He keeps his focus downward, ringed fingers moving carefully. “You know, I’ve actually kind of missed having you come around.”

“You said that already.” You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling even though he’s not looking. “I told you I’ll keep coming back, Eddie, you don’t have to butter me up.”

His gaze flicks to you, eyebrows rising on his forehead. “I’m not,” he says.

Something about his tone has the hairs raising on the back of your neck. You keep intentionally still as a slight chill goes through you.

“I like hanging out with you.” He shrugs, looking back at his roll. “Would you want to hang out again soon?”

You hesitate. “I…don’t think I’ll be needing any more for a bit.”

“Well, ideally you wouldn’t be here to buy.”

For a second, you’re confused, and then realization and dread collide in your gut with enough force to make you nauseous. The disappointment is more potent than either of them.

“Oh.” Maybe Eddie isn’t so different from the other dealers you’ve had after all. “Um, I just feel like I’ve always paid in cash…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow, and then his entire face contorts. “Christ—no.” He drops the finished roll, holding up his palms as if to ward you off. “Not that! Ew—I mean—” His hands go to his head. “—not ew, like you’re not ew, I just—gah.” He drops his head back, and his fingers disappear into his hair, making fists. He looks almost pained. “I like you. Like, I’m not trying to have sex with you right now. Not that sex wouldn’t be cool—we could if you wanted to—but that’s not what I’m getting at.”

He blows out a big breath, hands dropping to his knees, and looks you in the eye.

“Can we just forget about the weed for a second?” he asks, sounding nearly desperate. “I’m trying to ask you on a date. Not to get you to fuck me for drugs.” Your mouth drops open, but Eddie keeps going. “And if you don’t want to go out, that’s totally cool. Very respectable, honestly. It doesn’t have to affect anything.” He presses his lips together. “I didn’t mean to say you were ew. I’m sorry.”

You’re too shell-shocked to even laugh. You have whiplash. But now he’s looking at you with his big eyes all expectant, and you feel like you have to say something.

“A date?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” He leans against the counter, looking a bit awkward but somehow all the more endearing for it. “Like, to the arcade or maybe dairy queen or something—I don’t know, you can pick.”

“And you…don’t want to have sex.”

“I don’t not want to have sex,” he clarifies. “But, uh, we don’t have to at all. Like, only if you want to, and definitely not if you think it’s some sort of…” Eddie winces “...transaction.”

You nod slowly, and now there’s a smile tugging persistently at your lips. “That sounds good,” you say. “The date part.”

“Yeah?” His head picks up. “Really?”

You smile. “Yeah. Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” Eddie guffaws. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. I’m getting a much better deal here. But no take-backs,” he says quickly, and his grin widens when you laugh. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah.” You think for a second, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got nothing tomorrow.”

“Great.” Eddie presses his lips together like he’s trying to contain the full scope of his smile. He pushes his fingers into the countertop. “Okay, forget everything from today. I’m gonna be such a fucking gentleman when I pick you up tomorrow, you probably won’t even recognize me.”

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itachiiwrites · 1 month ago

Text

Rebound.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader, past satosugu

๋࣭ 𐙚˙⋆.˚cw. 18+, MDNI, angst, hurt/no comfort?, satosugu break up, bi!satoru, bi!reader, character death, sex, virginity loss, sex worker!reader, fem reader.

What was Satoru supposed to do with this new found level of emptiness after his estranged lover, his bestfriend, his one and only, Suguru died? It was a profound emptiness settled in his chest, a void that seemed to burgeon with each passing moment. He thought grief was when Suguru had left for the first time all those years ago, but his definition of it evolved now along with the hollow ache that threatened to consume him from inside out.

A strange, uncharacteristic idea came to his mind this one time, that he'd see himself in a red light area, seeking someone's company to dull the sharp edge of his despair.

Satoru, who had no prior sexual experience because of the way his life was, apart from kisses and steamy make out sessions he shared with Suguru— comes to you, booking you for the an hour after seeing you behind the glass box in a display, swaying your body in pure sin. Your eyes magnetic, all welcoming to provide him with whatever service he'd ask for. Pretty, with your face packed with a little heavy make up and your body attired in skimpy lace lingerie, designed to draw in lonely men like him.

As you made him comfortable after leading him inside when he confimed his payment to your manager, he couldn't help but think of how this transactional relationship had a dynamic where he had been given the power to choose, a privilege he didn't have before at the exchange of only a sum of yen.

'Love is everywhere if you look hard enough.'

Satoru, who questions whether love was really this easy, convenient and cheap to get with his already distorted perception of it—when you take his hands in yours and guide him to the silken sheets of your bed inside the brothel's room that was splashed with a tacky red light in it's entirety. You were all professional and trained to bring the men or women pleasure that came to you for your company and body.

He's flippant with the way he speaks to you, nothing too unusual about him, but it's nothing you haven't handled before either. The patience and ease you talk to him by was almost clinical while you pushed your supple breasts onto his arm. It makes him a little annoyed.

"We're not gonna get anywhere if you don't tell me what you want, pretty boy" And he hums with a smile at your crafted, saccharine tone, next caressing your cheek with back of his hand with a pointed knuckle, his cerulean eyes cold and devoid of much emotion. A look that you knew well and saw often, a look of yearning. Unfulfilled, raw, yearning which leads you to the question of—

"You can pretend that I'm some other person, no judgement here" To which he bitterly scoffs, pushing you into the mattress with your wrists trapped on the either side of your head, he looked offended at what you said.

"Wouldn't chose you if I wanted you to pretend that you're him, so just be you" He stated bluntly albeit it was duplicitous considering the reason why he was here in the first place, to fulfill the gnawing emptiness inside him that he hoped you could give a temporary fix to. Yet, he felt offended that you offered he could pretend you were someone he loved, it was repulsive and a disrespect to Suguru.

You obliged as well and how he spoke to you didn't really matter with the prospect of a wad of cash waiting for you at the end of it.

That desire to forget was evident in the way he fucked you, you don't bring up how he's frantic and messy at the beginning, yet experimental in his touching. Or how he was almost shivering when he entered you, giving you a hint that this was his first time. He looks into your eyes, searching for what gets you going, but frowns at the moans being faked. He wanted you to be into it.

"Hey, no. Don't do that, give me the real ones.." He speaks with his nose craddled onto your cheek, his thumb flicking over your clit that makes you let out a mewl, so much more natural.

"Yeah..this is what I'm talking about.." He rasps, grasping the way you wanted you clit rubbed and you decide to supplement it with some advice. "Slow down your thrusts..fucking hard isn't always ideal.."

The man accepted your guidance although not without passing a few words of playful mockery, "And here I thought I was the one getting serviced.."

Before you couldn't clarify that he didn't have to, the roll of his hips becomes calculated, your back getting lifted in a prompt arch by it, when his tip ridged against your spongy g-spot each time.

His mouth latched onto your nipples, leaving them damp and glossy as he alternated between them, the buds becoming tender at his incessant tongue and teeth, your hands traveled on his defined back and down to his buttocks when he snapped himself into you faster and harder, indicating building up of his climax.

He doesn't think of Suguru as his face contorts in pleasure, blinded of his feelings as he hears your dulcet sounds, passing your pretty lips like a sweet refrain supplemented with the way you clenched around him like a vice at the sight of his handsome face contorted in pleasure with a soft furrow of his brow.

He was so devastingly beautiful, especially when his whimpers octaved higher with a cute hitch of his breath and a strangled moan passing his lips as he pulls out, stroking himself to shoot ropes of his ivory cum onto your tummy, your mouth falling agape at how much came out. Wow, he was deprived enough to not even jerk off.

His chest heaved as his head was tipped back momentarily, before he focused his gaze on you again. "Shit..you didn't cum, did you?" He leaned in a little—voice taking on a huskier quality as he smeared his release onto your abdomen, so nastily. His concern to rhythmically make you orgasm along with him leads an unfamiliar flutter in your stomach. He acted differently after the fuck session, less guarded, more..desperate after the feel of your pussy. Ugh. Men. And how they thought with their dicks.

You just laugh out of sheer surprise when he props himself between your legs with your thighs weighted on his broad shoulders. No client was ever so set on to make you cum. It was a little cute, pathetic even, compared to how arrogant he was before.

However, a knock on the door with a sharp warning saying "Time's up sweetheart!" From your manager indicated how your time together was up and there was a next client in line—just when his mouth was millimeters away from your drooling cunt made you chew on your bottom lip to press down a smile at the utter disappointment written on his face.

"Yeah! Send them in, in 20.." you spoke loud enough that your manager heard you while you cleaned yourself up, getting ready for another round of work while Satoru was being hit with intense bout of post-nut clarity as he too got dressed.

He slept with someone who wasn't Suguru and he felt jealous that someone would touch every crevice of your fucking body like he did just now, all over again? Why is he bothered anyway, it's your job. You're not Suguru.

And still, he leaves with money on your desk more than what was agreed on and a kiss on your lips. While he convinced himself of a lie that he wasn't starting to develop something and it was all just to distract himself from Suguru—how it was a one time thing anyway but becomes a regular at the place, always demanding you, never forgetting to make you cum like he did, the first time.

Afterall, you were just a distraction. Right?

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glaciertea · 2 months ago

Text

Tickets for Two

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot

Part 1

Here is part 2, happy birthday to the giant spider!

Also, thank you @slushycoookie for being my beta reader for this part. You are truly the alpha cookie.

Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.

Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.

The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.

CW: 18+, Oral (both receiving and giving), light teasing, semi public sex (it'll just be you two, so I guess it'll be semi), you both are perverts... just slightly

Word count: 2.7k

“It always feels weird not to be the one behind there.” You eyed the menu, debating if you should have a small or medium popcorn.

“It's nice seeing you here and not working.” Miguel shoved his hands in his pocket, already knowing what to get himself. “Figure out what size you want?”

“Yeah, I'll get a small. And are you saying that because you get to be handsy and not solicit around my area?”

“Maybe.” Miguel grunted and moved closer to the counter to place his order.

“I'm still surprised they haven't banned you yet.” You greeted your coworker and asked for a drink alongside your buttery treat.

“I merely want to be near my partner. I don't see anything wrong with that. Besides, I'm not spooking any other patrons, so there's no problem.”

“Then what about the guy who—”

“That time doesn't count. That idiot shouldn't have been raising hell for getting mad when you accidentally tapped the wrong size. You caught your mistake and apologized, and yet he still had the nerve to be a shocking idiot at that point.”

“Miggy, you forcefully threw him out. The employees and customers swore you were security after that, especially with how much you hung around the counter beforehand.” You nudged his arm before reaching for your card.

“And?” He stared at the transaction, concluding he was going to pay you back.

“At this point, I believe you are the only one who supports the concession stand after dark.” You hauled nearly all of the items in your arms, trying not to tip over.

“Si mantiene alejados a los imbéciles, que así sea.” He mumbled and balanced you out by taking some of the snacks. “Now come on, let's go watch this film.”

“Movie date, commence!” You skipped ahead, making Miguel smirk.

You tended to stray away from movie dates, especially considering your employment in the building, but you decided to join Miguel for this night. You might even enjoy the thrill and peace of experiencing a vacant showroom. To be the consumer indeed of the provider.

You made your way to your chosen seats, near the back, and got comfy. The lights dimmed, and you glued your eyes to the screen. It showed two new movies coming out, but didn't capture your attention. Then the trailer for the next future showing was coming to an end when you noticed nobody else was heading in.

A whole theater between you two. An accidental private screening, one could call it.

“Is this how it is when you come in here?”

Miguel plopped a gummy in his mouth and shrugged. “About. It is nice to have a theater to myself. It gives me time to think.”

“What do you usually think about when you're here?”

“Work.” He stole a sip of your drink. “And you occasionally.”

You didn't get the chance to react when the lights dimmed and the feature film started up. He didn't turn to you; his eyes focused on the screen, so you decided to munch on your popcorn and get comfortable.

And you did get comfortable because the movie they chose to show was mind-numbingly boring. You didn't know what was going on or if anything was going on. By the thirty-five minute mark, you had devoured most of your popcorn, and your drink was heavily watered down. You felt yourself dozing off; the room became darker than before when Miguel nudged you awake.

“You okay?”

“I'm up!” You twisted your head up to him. “Is this movie over?”

“Close. We got,” he checked his watch. “Approximately an hour and forty-five minutes left. Excluding credits.”

You groaned out and banged your head on the back of the chair. You thought of the many possible options. You could suck it up and finish the mind-numbing film, or you could get up and leave, draining the funds you spent. Your brain circled and circled when an idea struck.

“We can do a certain indecency when a couple is in an empty theater roo-”

“Front cameras.” He subtly gestured to where they could be placed.

“Shock. That's right.” You slumped more of your drink down. So much for a fun night.

Miguel drummed his finger on the armrest before standing up. “I'll be back in five.”

“Going to the restrooms?”

“Something along those lines.”

You watched him stand up and crack his neck to the left and right. He didn't say much as he strode down the steps and disappeared behind the barrier separating the seats from the theater room's door. Your eyes lazily went towards the screen. More nonsense about the car robots and exposition; you could've sworn that the film was going to be about medieval times. Or was it going to be about a war? You decided it was best not to question the direction of the movie.

Stealing some of his lukewarm coffee to give you somewhat of an energy boost, Miguel finally returned from wherever. He parked himself right back in his seat and turned to you.

There was a hint of confidence in his eyes. Uncertain by the new attitude, you cocked your head, intrigued by what he did out there.

“Miguel? Where did you go?”

Not missing a beat, he pulled the armrest up and placed you on his lap. Something was poking you and nudging the backside of your thigh. Masquerading an ignorant state, your fingers casually brushed along the outline, fascinated by the peculiar object.

Miguel grunted at the attentive focus, shifting in his seat and rubbing against the fabric of your pants. He was glad the bottoms he was wearing were slightly thinner.

“I don't think the movie is causing you to react this way; is it now?” A cheeky grin crept on your lips as you sneakily grinded.

“I'm taking your idea into consideration.” He grunted and squirmed, relieving any pressure that roused up.

You turned your torso and peered down to undo his belt buckle. “The cameras?”

“Right now, they're seeing two people watching the film, bored out of their minds.” His gaze was not leaving your fingers.

“But wouldn't they realize it's a still image?” You stopped unbuttoning his pants. “Miguel, did you hack my job's security cams?”

“Hack is a strong word, cariño.”

You gave him a look and crossed your arms. “Did you hack?”

“I'm able to recreate realistic simulations. I know how to fake a moviegoer experience.” He took your hands and kissed them, knowing your disapproving glare wasn't going to leave. “So yes, I did hack your job's cameras. Más o menos. But only for this area.”

“Miguel, make sure you fix them back.”

“I will. Lo prometo.”

“You better, or else.”

“Or else what, amor?” He was prepared to accept what you were going to throw.

“Or else, I'll be forced to teach you a lesson.” You palmed the hardened erection, massaging it and enjoying the damp stains leaking through.

A low rumble expelled from his chest as pricking goosebumps and the flaming ignition coasted within you. Your eyes locked with his mesmeric ones, passion lighting up the darkness of the room. You took each other in, admiring one another's features more than the feature on the big screen. The only good thing about it was you were able to pick out his sharpness and gorgeousness.

You wrapped an arm around his neck and closed the gap, tasting the snacks on his lips. The buttery popcorn, the sugary fruit from the gummies, and the bitterness from the coffee create a delicious concoction melting onto your tongue as you twist it around his, needing to taste it all.

Soft moans trickle from you two when a husky one leaves Miguel. You don't pull away, playing coy. The raw guttural sounds become more like a beautiful song you will never get tired of hearing. You squeeze and knead the bulge, getting the reactions that make you giddy. His hands glide down your backside, pinching your behind or your inner and outer thighs.

“I don't think we should waste any time. Don't know when an unexpected viewer will show up.” You cheese and nip at his cheek.

Moving off his lap, you slip back over to your seat, cozying yourself on your knees. You pushed the searing need between your thighs in the back of your head; right now, you want all your concentration on Miguel.

Helping him get out of those uncomfortable bottoms, you licked your lips at the pulsating tent before freeing him completely.

“This is way more interesting.” You thumbed at his glossy tip, loving how he looked when he threw his head back, biting his bottom lip.

Enthralling, a gorgeous frame that any camera can pick up on. It would only enhance his beauty further. He is certainly better than any film.

Done with keeping him anticipating your full touch, you scoot closer, grasping the sensitive shaft, pumping in a slow motion, letting his self-lubrication mess up your hand. You sucked at his neck, wanting to leave a fresh mark. It got a few grunts out of him, but you needed more.

Leading up to his ear, you glazed your tongue over the outer shell and carefully nipped at it.

“I thought we couldn't—joder—I thought we couldn't waste any time, cariño? Joder, qué bueno.” There was some smugness in his tone. He was trying to save face when you pushed his cock towards his stomach.

“You know what? You are so right. The movie can end at any moment, so I really shouldn't waste any time.” You threw the smugness back with a hint of sarcasm. “Here, let me speed this along for real now.”

“Ah, no, it's fine; you can take your time. I was only—oh mierda, cariño, joder, espera, más despacio!”

You dipped down and immediately engulfed half of him. Your mouth built up enough spit to help make this easier. You always struggled to fit him all the way in. A blessing and curse with what he was endowed with. Dribbles of spit fall onto his trimmed hairs, your muffled moans giving vibrations, making him almost lose a fit.

He pushes your head down, biting his on his bottom lip until he tastes a bit of metallic. Your tongue made delicious laps, noisily slobbering, thankful that the film was drowning it out.

He was holding back, the croaks and the whines in his chest fully prominent when you cupped his balls, fondling them with the utmost care. You curl your tongue, going down more until you could feel him touch the back of your throat. He was a mess at your attempts. You would come up to go back down, and when it wasn't enough for you, you would start the process over from the head until you got it.

“Amor, I'm not going to last if you keep that up.”

A disgruntled, muddled hum resonated at the back of your throat. You were now very determined to take him all. Securing your hands on his thighs, you opened your throat, relaxing your body. You stretched your tongue, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You were almost there, so tantalizingly close, when a hoarse low shout of your name was called out, and your face was suddenly closer to Miguel's pelvis.

He erupted in your mouth, the salty strands cascading, hitting your throat, and running along the sides of your chin. He kept you there when nothing left to give and hauled you up.

“Shock, Miguel.” You gasped out. “I will perfect—” you swallowed any lingering residue and took a long breath. “I will perfect me taking all of you. That was a lot, are you okay? That was intense.”

When you didn't get a response, you started to worry when you were met with bright blood-red eyes piercing yours. You shuddered. Miguel can be intimidating, but it brings that awakening out of you.

“Miggy?”

“You always know how to make my head explode, cariño.”

He stood up and fixed himself. You could only watch, dazed at what he was doing when he kneeled before you. You gulped as he fingered the button on your pants.

“But this movie date is supposed to be an enjoyable time for both.” He starts to pull your jeans down along with your underwear. “Así que te voy a dar algo bueno que ver.” He murmured along your thigh, pressing a soft kiss to it. That fiery flicker burning into you.

You gulped and tugged at the collar of your shirt. “He-hey, about what I said about wasting time, you know I was teasing—oh, shock!”

Miguel wasted no time diving right in, letting you feel the high satisfaction and pleasure you bring—and brought—to him.

You struggled to choke back your moans, covering your hands to the point your fingers were squashing your cheeks. His tongue twirls achingly slow, teasing you simply because he can. Because he's acutely aware that you can't get too loud to draw anyone to you both. That annoying, sexy, mischievous glint in his eyes, saying, ‘You wouldn't want us to get caught now, now do you?’

God, he is such a smug bastard, and you can't stand that you love it.

He massaged the tension from hips and thighs, not caring about the crick in his neck or the slightly sticky floor; his only goal was to make sure not to miss a single part of your heat.

Every stroke and every round he made was bliss that was driving you mad. His fingertips glided against your thighs, stroking the soft skin and pinching the inner part to make you squeak. He refused to break any contact with you, the suction so heavy that you swore your soul was going to ascend right out of the theater.

“Miguel.” You purred out, combing his luscious hair, relishing the glorious moment.

He was ready for you to come apart.

His tongue dragged down in an unpredictable pattern, making your hips buck. He let a breathy “humph” out and grasped your waist, a heed to get you to stop moving.

Your head spun, and your body quivered. You were close, so very close.

He must have known as he sped up, his tongue making moves you didn't think he even possessed, his mouth slurping you whole. The room was fuzzy; your brain could have been a pile of goop by the end of this, and you wouldn't even be mildly upset, not even the slightest.

“Miggy, I- I'm-”

A silent cry parted between your lips, pushing Miguel's head down as your release shook you whole. Your mess was stained on his lopsided grin, and that was enough to make you want him again.

You felt hot and cold, the sweat clinging to your forehead greatly helped you cool off, but you weren't quite calm. He cleaned himself off, double-checking to see if you had any questionable fluids on your clothes or your face. The film was still going, and you couldn't tell if it was the middle or third act.

“Did it make it to the climax?” You heaved out.

“I think we both just saw that.” Miguel smirked.

You squeezed your lips together and released a waft from your nose. “Do you want to continue this at my place?”

“The film?”

“No. This movie isn't good. We could do better. Hell, I believe we can make a better one.” Your eyes drifted to his, and you could already see the hunger growing back.

He took hold of your hand and stood you up. It startled you, but you shook it off and trailed behind when it clocked on you.

“What about the cameras?” You stammered.

“It'll revert itself back when we step out of this room. I put a sensor that'll detect when we leave.”

You trusted his word but resisted asking him how he had messed with the security later on. Right now, you were both overcome with anticipation when you rushed out of the doors, thankful for how devoid the building was.

Even if the movie didn't satisfy you, it might have become your new favorite. If mindless films like that bring you that sort of experience, then you will gladly watch them with him.

#miguel smut #miguel fanfic #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #two shot #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

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mcdynamite · 2 years ago

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CWs: discussions of sexuality (particularly demisexuality, though Steve and Eddie don’t know a term for it at the time), VERY mild sexual context

Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.

He's not, like, trying to brag about it, or anything. Frankly, he's not even sure it's something he would want to brag about in the first place. It's just an objective fact.

The sky is blue. The Earth is round. Water is wet.

And Steve Harrington has had a lot of sex.

Which is...well, a little bit bizarre, considering the fact that he's not entirely convinced he actually enjoys it most of the time.

At first, he chalks it up to inexperience. Everyone's first times were a little bit awkward, weren't they? Maybe everyone felt weird and a little bit off-kilter the first time someone touched them like that. Maybe everyone felt icky for hours afterwards, like something was just off. Steve had spent his childhood going to church on Sundays (at least, until he turned 10, and Richard and Susan decided he no longer needed luxuries like parents), so maybe it was just guilt.

That was a thing, right? Catholic guilt, or whatever? He'll get over it. He's sure of it.

Only...he's less sure of it several months later, when he still can't get rid of that stupid icky feeling, and he can never quite grasp what Tommy is talking about whenever the dude starts obsessing over wanting to fuck some pretty actress in whatever movie they’re watching. When he’s with a girl, he feels anxious the moment clothes start to come off, despite the fact that he wants this. He wants to have sex. He wants someone to touch him and make him feel good. He wants to do the same for someone else. But it always feels wrong.

The only part he really likes is what comes after, when he can wrap his arms around whatever girl he's with that week and just hold her - no more sex required, now that it's over and done with. That part feels good. Amazing, even. He loves having someone to cuddle up with - to make him feel less alone in his fucking mausoleum of a house. It's nice. It feels good.

He's pretty sure it's the only reason he keeps having sex in the first place. It's like a transaction. Steve gets the girls off, and in exchange, they stick around for a little while afterwards to fill the echoing silence of Steve's house with soft laughter and quiet words.

And sure...sometimes Steve sort of falls apart after they leave to get home before their curfews. Usually, it just leaves him feeling squirmy and anxious. But sometimes, when it's especially bad, Steve sits on the floor of the shower with his arms around his knees for ages and cries until the water gets cold, unable to wash the icky feeling away.

He knows he should stop doing this to himself, but God, he's so fucking lonely, and now he's made a reputation for himself. Now there are expectations, and if Steve has learned one thing from Richard Harrington, it's that living up to expectations is the most important thing in life.

So he keeps doing it. His technique gets better, despite how wrong he feels, and the girls keep coming. And Steve keeps wondering what the fuck is wrong with him - why he feels physically pleasured enough to come most of the time, but always hates himself afterwards.

Then, at the beginning of his junior year, he starts dating Nancy Wheeler.

He knows right away that this feels different from any of his other flings. Nancy is sweet, and smart, and just a bit of a firecracker, and Steve loves it. Even better, she doesn't try to get him into bed on their first date, or their second, or even their third. It's not until the pool party that things take a more intimate turn between them, and by then, Steve is smitten.

He waits for the ick to kick in while he caresses her and kisses her everywhere - waits for the feeling of weirdbadwrong to make itself known - but this time... it doesn't. This time, Steve looks down at his partner and is stunned by how beautiful she looks. It's never been like this with any of the other girls - he's never wanted any of them quite like this - and for the first time, Steve really, genuinely enjoys having sex.

There's no ick; no uncomfortable feeling in his belly that sort of makes him feel ill. There's just Nancy, who looks and sounds beautiful, and smiles at him as they doze off together afterwards. It's amazing. It's perfect.

Steve thinks that maybe he's normal, after all.

He should know better than to get his hopes up, by now.

The next year is a whirlwind of absolute insanity. There are monsters, and alternate dimensions, and little kids with honest-to-God superpowers, and funerals... and sex becomes the least of Steve's worries.

He and Nancy are only intimate a handful of other times, after that first night (it's hard to get in the mood when all either of them can think about is how the first time they did this, her best friend was dying), and despite everything else going on, the ick, at least, stays away. It seems to be proof that Steve isn't broken or weird. He just needed some time to get used to sex.

He realizes how wrong he is the first time he tries to hook up with someone after Nancy breaks his heart, when the ick comes back. After that, he only tries once more, and then he just stops trying to score entirely... pretends he's just lost his touch and feels secretly relieved every time Robin Buckley puts a tally under the "You Suck" side of the whiteboard in the back room.

It goes on like this until March of 1986, when Eddie Munson comes barrelling into his life and changes everything.

His relationship with Eddie is unlike any he's ever had. They start out as tentative friends after everything with Vecna is finally over, and then it grows from there.

They hang out with the kids at Steve's place, which eventually turns into them hanging out without the kids. They talk about the weather, and the Upside Down, and music, and DnD campaigns. Anything and everything that comes to mind. Eddie tells Steve how he came to live with Wayne, and in return, Steve tells Eddie about his parents - about how he sometimes feels like he's haunting his own home.

(Eddie starts making excuses to stay the night more often, after that conversation, and Steve doesn't mention it, but he notices.)

And one day he looks over at Eddie, who's talking animatedly to El while Steve pops popcorn for their movie night, and suddenly, it hits him like a goddamn truck.

Eddie Munson is beautiful.

Steve can barely breathe as the realization takes hold, because he's not used to seeing people this way. He can appreciate when someone is objectively attractive, sure, but he rarely looks at someone and wants like this. He rarely looks at a person and wonders what their lips would feel like against his own, or what sort of sounds they make when they come, or what they'd look like with Steve's love bites riddling their skin...

He's only looked at one other person this way before: Nancy, after they'd been dating for a few weeks and had gotten to know each other better.

He's so shocked by the sheer amount of wanting he's feeling for Eddie that he blows right past the gay panic part of his bisexual awakening, straight into bumbling idiot with a crush territory.

And really, it must be obvious, because two weeks later, Eddie's gaze locks onto Steve's while they're sitting on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water, and Eddie smiles. It's a soft, gentle thing - so different from the maniacal grins he gives the kids when they're all hanging out together - and it steals all of the breath from Steve's lungs. His heart races as the air around them shifts, and for once, it's out of excitement rather than anxiety.

Eddie's voice is devastatingly timid when he murmurs, "Stevie, can I kiss you?"

Steve feels like he could cry out of happiness. His answer is a simple nod, and when Eddie kisses him slowly, sweetly, chastely, Steve can feel any remaining anxiety melting away.

Because this kiss isn't a demand, or a prelude to all of those other activities that Steve wants but isn't sure he's quite ready for with Eddie, yet. It's not a challenge.

It's a promise - a promise that this thing that's been blossoming between them over the last few months is real. Wordlessly, Eddie vows to treat him with care, and Steve does the same in kind.

And it's perfect.

They take things slow - slower than Steve and Nancy did, and definitely slower than Steve's ever gone with anyone else. Steve doesn't ask for sex, now that he no longer has a persona to uphold, and Eddie doesn't push. They're both perfectly content to share soft kisses and quiet words while they lay tangled together in one of their beds with their pajamas on, for now.

It takes more than a month for Eddie to bring it up.

"Baby, can I ask you something?" Eddie asks quietly.

They're curled up in Steve's bed after a long day taking the kids swimming at the quarry, and neither of them have said much for the last half hour or so. Eddie has been flipping through one of his D&D books, and Steve has been laying with his head pillowed on Eddie's chest, listening to his boyfriend's occasional mutterings about tieflings and trolls and some sort of forest quest. He's not even sure Eddie realizes he mutters to himself while he reads, and that just makes Steve love it even more.

Steve just hums sleepily and props his chin on Eddie's sternum to look up at him, face immediately falling into a frown. Eddie looks contemplative and a little nervous, and Steve already hates whatever this conversation is going to be about. He doesn't like it when Eddie is upset. It breaks his heart every time.

Swallowing thickly, he pushes himself off of Eddie's chest so they can lay on their sides facing each other, hands tangling between them because they're always touching these days. "What's up, Eds?" Steve asks. He hopes his voice is encouraging and doesn't give away the anxiety beginning to roll in his stomach.

Eddie hesitates, face scrunching up adorably like it always does when he's thinking too hard about something.

"We don't have sex," Eddie finally blurts out unceremoniously.

Steve's heart plummets, but he tries to keep his tone light when he speaks. "Is there a question in that...?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie won't meet his eyes, and it makes Steve feel strangely off-kilter. Eddie hasn't been this skittish around him in months.

"I don't know, just... doesn't that bother you, or something?" he says finally.

Steve deflects. "Does it bother you?"

He's dreading Eddie's answer.

But he only dreads it for a moment, because Eddie's eyes go wide and apologetic immediately. "No! No, Stevie, I'm fine with what we've been doing," Eddie says quickly. "I mean, I want to do more, you know? But it's totally fine if you don't. I guess I'm just worried I'm... boring you?"

Steve's expression must be incredulous, because Eddie backtracks instantly.

"Wow, okay, that sounded way worse out loud than it did in my head. Jesus H. Christ," Eddie sighs.

"Why would you think you're boring me?" Steve asks, unable to let it go, because it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing Eddie has ever said (and that is a high bar to clear). In what world could Eddie - funny, unpredictable, unbearably sweet Eddie - be boring?

Eddie winces, then shrugs. "I don't know, man, you're just..." He pauses; Steve waits. "You're Steve Harrington, you know? It's not exactly a secret that you got around while we were in school. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing!" Eddie clarifies. "Whatever you did before doesn't bother me because it doesn't matter anymore, right? But you obviously like having sex, and we obviously haven't done anything more than kiss yet, and I was just wondering if that bothered you, I guess..."

For a moment, Steve considers lying. He considers telling Eddie that it doesn't bother him, but that he's ready for more if Eddie is, because it sounds like Eddie might be, and Steve doesn't want to disappoint him. He's pretty sure he could have a decent enough time having sex with Eddie if that's what Eddie wants. He could bite the bullet in the name of keeping everything else - the amazing parts of this little thing between them that make every part of Steve's soul feel warm and comforted and held.

So, yeah. He considers it - lying and putting on a good face while he gives Eddie what everyone always seems to want from Steve Harrington - but then he meets Eddie's eyes and reconsiders.

Eddie's gaze is open and kind and nervous, not expectant. He looks vulnerable and more than a little self-conscious, and in that moment, Steve decides that he's not going to let this thing with Eddie meet the same uncomfortable end as all the others. If Eddie can be vulnerable, if Eddie can be open and honest, then Steve can meet him halfway and do the same.

"What if I don't?" he asks, voice weak and unsure. He sounds so small - like a child, almost - and he hates it.

Eddie frowns. "What if you don't what?"

"You said it was obvious that I liked having sex," Steve replies shakily. He can't quite meet Eddie's eyes, but he sees Eddie's hesitant nod out of the corner of his eye. "Well... what if I don't?"

Steve wonders if the silence that follows feels as deafening and suffocating to Eddie as it does to him.

"I don't understand..." Eddie says. His voice is soft, like he's afraid he might scare Steve away, and Steve realizes suddenly that his own hands are trembling.

"I-" he murmurs haltingly. "It's just... sex is sort of weird for me, sometimes." He pauses, then quietly adds, "Most of the time, actually." He chances a look at Eddie's face and immediately wishes he hadn't, because Eddie's frown is deep and concerned and Steve doesn't know how to fix it.

"Okay," Eddie says slowly, giving Steve's hands a reassuring squeeze. "Do you think you could tell me what you mean by that?"

And, well... Steve does his best to explain. He tells Eddie about the way he'd felt icky back in high school, whenever he hooked up with some random girl from his class. He tells Eddie that he'd wanted to have sex, but for some reason it always seemed to feel like something was off. Sometimes, it felt like something was missing. Other times, it felt like too much.

Steve tells him about the times when he felt wrong-footed and uncomfortable for hours afterwards, even long after the girl had left. He quietly recounts, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, those few occasions that had made him feel so terrible he'd sat on the shower floor and cried until the hot water ran out, unable to wash the feeling away.

He tells Eddie everything - about those precious few times with Nancy when he'd felt normal, about his attempts after their breakup that made him feel weirdbadwrong once again, about his relief every time he scared a new girl off at Scoops with his purposefully dismal flirting.

Steve tells Eddie everything, and Eddie listens.

By the end, there are tear tracks on Steve's face, trailing downwards towards a small damp spot on his pillow, but Eddie takes it all in stride. He simply raises a hand to brush away the tears and presses his lips to Steve's forehead, all while thanking Steve for telling him, and assuring Steve that there's no pressure, with them. There's no timeline, no expectation of sex, and there never will be. Eddie is happy to wait as long as Steve needs, and if the time never comes, then that's alright, too.

The thought alone brings additional tears of relief to Steve's eyes, and he feels a part of his heart unclench when Eddie's arms wrap around him that night as they drift off to sleep, just as they've done most nights for the last month. He feels safe inside the cocoon of Eddie’s arms, in the knowledge that Eddie knows, now, and he’s not going anywhere. Any lingering anxiety dissipates entirely the following morning, when Eddie bitches and moans about being woken up for work, but still kisses Steve just as sweetly before he goes, no less adoring than the day before.

It gives Steve honest-to-God butterflies, and he feels a bit like a lovesick teenager when he watches Eddie pull out of the driveway that morning. He wonders if maybe they’ll just carry on as though nothing has changed at all.

In the end, things do change, but it doesn’t take long for Steve to realize they’ve changed for the better. Their conversation seems to have opened the door for the kind of vulnerability that Steve’s never had with anyone else before, and it’s nice. More than nice, actually. It comes with the sort of honesty and trust he’s longed for his entire life. It comes with sweet kisses that never become too insistent, and soft touches that never wander into unwanted places. For the first time, Steve can relax and let himself be cared for…let himself fall even deeper in love with Eddie Munson than he already is.

Things progress, despite remaining temporarily paused on the physical front. They tell Robin about their relationship, and after she’s done half-crying, half-laughing her way through congratulating them, she gives Eddie an astonishingly frightening shovel-talk. They tell Dustin a few days later, and then the rest of the kids and Nancy. They go on their first official date at the drive-in, where they can cuddle up without needing to worry about the prying eyes of the ignorant assholes who make up most of the population of Hawkins.

A little over a month after The Talk, Steve holds Eddie’s hand while Eddie tells his Uncle Wayne that they’re together, and after Wayne wraps Eddie up in the biggest bear-hug of all time, he does the same to Steve and assures him that as long as he never hurts Wayne’s boy, Steve will always be welcome in the Munson home. Steve doesn’t comment on the tears shining in Eddie’s eyes, but he holds Eddie extra tightly that night. Tells Eddie how proud he is. Wonders how much longer he’ll be able to stop himself from slipping up and confessing exactly how much he loves Eddie.

And one day, after months of chaste kisses and soft, conservative touches…Steve feels ready for more.

They start slow, at Eddie’s insistence and to Steve’s relief. At first, it’s nothing but the two of them laying in Eddie’s bed, jerking themselves off side by side. They’re barely touching, aside from the occasional brush of the arm, but Steve feels like he’s on fire in the best way. Eddie’s choked off gasps go straight to his dick, and they come within seconds of each other, too satisfied to be embarrassed about how quickly the whole thing happens.

The next night, when they get their hands on each other, Steve’s are trembling with nerves frayed from wondering if the icky weirdbadwrong feeling will rear its head. But Eddie’s voice is soft and soothing, and his touch is no less gentle than it always is when he wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock for the first time. Instead of the prickly, icy feeling he usually gets, Steve thinks that this feels perfect. Like slipping into a warm bath after a long day out in the cold. It doesn’t take long for him to forget all about his worry that it might feel wrong when he’s lost in Eddie’s whispered encouragement and soft touches.

He comes that night with Eddie’s name on his lips, and when his fingers tremble as he returns the favor for his boyfriend, it’s out of excitement, not fear.

Steve tells Eddie he loves him a little over a week later, after a Corroded Coffin show at the Hideout.

Eddie says it back.

And the icky feeling continues to stay away, for the most part.

Of course, there’s still a bit of a learning curve when it comes to their sex life. There are days when Steve feels detached - untethered to the world around him, like he’s just going through the motions of life - and he can’t do anything sexual without feeling a bit like he wants to crawl out of his own skin. And they never have sex when they’re angry with each other, because the one time they try, Steve breaks down halfway through, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness that courses through his veins like poison.

It’s a lot of trial and error, and many very honest conversations, but it works. Eddie is never pushy - never seems to get frustrated with Steve’s oddly fickle relationship with sex - and eventually, Steve stops getting frustrated with himself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s not broken. He just is the way he is, and he doesn’t need to change that. Every once in a while, he wishes he knew someone else who felt like this, just to have someone to talk to, but it’s hard to feel lonely when he gets to fall asleep in Eddie’s arms every single night once they move in together in 1988.

Eventually, he sort of forgets about ever feeling broken in the first place, after years spent with a man who loves him unconditionally, exactly how he is.

Until a random day in the middle of June, 2015 when Eddie comes home from teaching guitar at the music center down the road with a pamphlet.

“Steve?” Eddie calls over the sound of the slamming screen door. Steve keeps meaning to replace the spring, so it won’t slam quite so hard every time, but every time he tries, he just gets distracted and forgets altogether.

“In here!” he replies from his place at the kitchen table, surrounded by dozens of middle school history essays.

Eddie comes striding into the kitchen with his guitar case slung over his shoulder and a half-nervous, half-excited grin on his face, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. It’s a habit from youth that he never quite shook, and Steve will never admit this out loud, but he finds it disgustingly adorable.

“Can I help you?” Steve asks with a slight smirk when Eddie just stares at him for a long moment.

Eddie blinks, then suddenly looks a bit sheepish as he takes a breath and pulls a folded-up pamphlet out of his jacket pocket. “So, uh…this might sound weird, but one of my students went to the Pride parade downtown with her girlfriend this weekend, and I told her to bring me a souvenir. And I was joking, obviously! Only…she brought me this random pamphlet she got from some vendor while she was there, also as a joke, and I was reading it because I was bored between lessons - Jeremy canceled because he has strep, or something - and it really wasn’t all that interesting, because, like, been there, done that, right? But-”

“Eddie,” Steve says, smirk dissolving into a fond smile. “You’re rambling, babe.”

“Right, yeah. That I am,” Eddie laughs nervously. He fidgets with the pamphlet, then abruptly holds it out for Steve to take.

Steve only hesitates for a moment before taking it and giving it a brief once-over. “Am I supposed to be-”

“Page five,” Eddie interrupts. His voice is soft, and fond, and a little nervous in a way it rarely is around Steve these days. Nearly thirty years of (unofficial) marriage has left little to be nervous about.

Steve stares at his husband, then flips open the little booklet to a page sporting a black, purple, grey, and white flag, and the word demisexuality. He frowns thoughtfully and pushes his reading glasses further up his nose as he begins to read the rest of the text on the page.

“I didn’t think much of it at first,” Eddie says softly, pulling up a chair so he can sit beside Steve. “But then I remembered that talk we had back when we first started dating…”

His voice trails off, but that’s okay. Steve already knows exactly what conversation Eddie is thinking about, because Steve is recalling it himself.

“There’s a word for it?” Steve’s voice comes out surprisingly fragile. Hopeful.

He can hear the smile in Eddie’s reply. “Yeah, sweetheart. Seems that way.”

“And there are…” Steve swallows down the tidal wave of emotion threatening to crash over him. “There are more people like me? It’s, like…a thing?”

“Sure is, baby,” Eddie says fondly, pressing a lingering kiss to Steve’s temple. “Got your own flag and everything!”

Steve chokes out a laugh just as the first tear falls down his cheek, and fuck, he can’t stop smiling. Because Eddie is right. There’s a word, and a community, and a goddamn flag. And yeah, maybe it’s been years since Steve last worried about the weirdbadwrong feeling he used to get so frequently when he was younger, but something inside of him feels like it’s settled into place. Like the final piece of a puzzle, pulled from beneath the couch years after the rest was completed: dusty and faded, almost forgotten, but a perfect fit nonetheless.

“Demisexual…” he murmurs reverently, tracing over the shape of the flag with his fingers. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks eagerly.

Through happy tears, Steve looks at the man who is his husband in everything but the eyes of the law. Eddie’s eyes are kind and excited - just like they always are - and God, Steve loves him. He’s loved him for decades, and he’s never going to stop.

“Yep,” Steve breathes, wrapping a hand around the back of Eddie’s head to pull him in for a slow kiss. “Love it,” he says. Another kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby,” Eddie whispers in return.

The next year, Eddie’s students don’t need to bring him souvenirs from Pride, because he and Steve go together. They hold hands as they cheer on the parade, newly-acquired wedding rings (now that it’s been legalized in all fifty states) glinting in the sunlight, and Steve wonders if he’s ever been this happy before. He’s got his husband on one side, Robin and her wife on the other, and a flag of black, purple, grey, and white painted on one cheek.

The feeling is electric.

It’s perfect.

And Steve has never, ever been more certain that there’s nothing icky or wrong about it.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #demisexuality #demisexual steve harrington #fluff #author is demi and decided steve was too lol #bisexual steve harrington #theyre just very soft in this ok???#eddie is alive #and he’s an amazing boyfriend #and I love that for him #mcdynamite writes

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venuszn · 1 year ago

Text

☆ : 100 Days

Summary / Bada asks you to give her one hundred days to make you fall in love with her.

Cw / Best friends to lovers, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fingering, Nipple play, Cunnilingus (Bada and reader give and receive), Scissoring, Dom!Bada, Fem!reader, Emotionally constipated reader, Whipped Bada, MDNI

Author’s note / Thank you for 100 followers ahhhh ! This is my gift from me to all of you. Thank you for liking and reading my fics ! I took inspiration from the movie ‘500 Days of Summer’ and mayhaps a little bit of dialogue inspo from the Netflix show ‘Queen Charlotte’ - if you can spot it then great. I hope you enjoy and as always feel free to let me know your thoughts 💗

Wc / 8.5K words

Day 7

Bada took your hand into hers, locking her fingers inbetween your own. The warmness and firmness of your hands together gave you an unfamiliar feeling as the taller girl walked ahead of you, shopping basket in one hand and you on her other as she snaked her way through the busy aisles muttering small ‘excuse me’’s and ‘thank you’’s as she went. You let Bada guide you and your gaze fell to meet her hand as it protectively gripped yours. You brushed the feeling off, deciding that it was normal - you were friends after all. It’s normal to feel certain emotions around your friends, especially friends who held your hand with such care and warmth as Bada did. It was a simple and cute gesture, that's all it was - cute. Nothing more.

“I don’t know why this has to be a two person job. I could have done the shopping, Bada.” You said as you both finally emerged from the chaos of people around you, your brows slightly furrowed at the busyness around you. Bada adjusted her speed and walked beside you, feet matching your pace and hand remaining firmly in yours.

She looked down at you with a small smile, “Well, this is what couples do,” she said your name with a hint of amusement at your small frown. “They go shopping together. It’s cute and it’s domestic.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Right, sure. Well, you don’t need to keep on holding my hand. I’m not a baby.”

Bada let go of your hand as she reached to add another item into the basket. She didn’t make a move to reconnect your hands but teased, "I could argue that you actually are my baby now.” You scoffed and jokingly smacked her arm and she laughed.

The cold breeze brushed against your once warm hand and you slightly missed the feeling.

As you walked Bada cleared her throat, “I know you’re used to being independent - doing everything by yourself. But you have me now, so let me be here for you.”

Your eyes fell to the floor as you digested her words. You knew you had your defences up. Your walls were impenetrable towers and Bada had made it her mission to scale upwards in hopes of reaching the top. She was prepared to defeat any fiery beast, whether it be of doubt and fear, that guarded you. Bada wanted to rescue you.

You said nothing but reached for her hand, eyes avoiding her direction as you took a hold of her palm in yours. You then muttered, “My hand was cold.”

Bada gazed down at you, a small smile on her lips as she adored you. She thought that you were the most adorable thing ever as she raised your intertwined hands and pressed her lips gently against the back of yours.

“You’re so cute.”

You felt a strange feeling rise up your body and your face felt warm. You ignored it and followed your instinct - to deflect.

“And you’re obsessed with me.”

Bada chuckled and squeezed your hand gently.

“Wasn’t it obvious ?”

Day 0

You stumbled through the front door, heels in one hand and bag in the other as you managed to twist the handle open with your elbow - a talent you had perfected due to your frequent walks of shame. Although, ‘shame’ wasn’t what you usually felt after such encounters. Sex was nothing but transactional to you, you had sexual needs that needed to be met and then you would repay the favour. You had mastered the act of separating your emotions from intimacy in all forms - especially romantic relationships. However, this time you did feel a little bit of shame and perhaps a little bit of rage as you kicked the door shut with the back of your foot before your body fell slack against it in defeat.

Your tired eyes scanned the apartment, there was no sign of your roommate apart from a steaming cup of herbal tea that sat on the kitchen island waiting for you. You smiled to yourself at how attentive she always was toward you. She always did small gestures like this, despite not being in support of your nightly escapades, she always made sure you came home to your go-to hangover relief. You dropped your bag and heels and made your way over to sit down before a distant voice you recognised called your name.

You turned to see your roommate, Bada Lee, as she speedwalked down the hallway to you. “You’re home. Good morning.” She quickly greeted with a small smile as she hurriedly beelined around your shared apartment, picking up her keys and then putting on her trainers.

“Good morning. Yes, I'm home. Thank goodness.”

Bada paused in her actions as she heard your words. “What happened ?”

You laughed dryly before taking a sip of your tea. “She had a girlfriend this entire time.”

It almost sounded like a cruel joke hearing yourself say it.

“Fuck. How did you find out ?”

“Long story short - I was hooking up with a sleazebag that couldn't go two weeks without sex. So she decided to lie and say she was single whilst her girlfriend was actually away visiting family . . . I feel like shit.” You groaned into your palm before running your fingers through your hair.

Bada walked over and sat beside you.

“I hope you know that’s not your fault.”

“I feel like I should have been more aware. This is exactly why I don’t do relationships - it gets messy. I should have cut it off after the first couple nights like I usually do, but I got comfortable thinking we could also be friends.”

Bada stared at your deflated frame and internally prayed for the moment that you would finally notice her. She had been by your side ever since you both met a couple years ago in college and had become roomies. You both became inseparable; but she saw you in a light which you did not reflect with her - she was in love with you but you had an aversion to the emotion.

“Anyways,” you said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “You have somewhere to be don’t you ? I don’t want to make you late.”

Bada immediately interjected, “It can wait. It’s fine, if you need me to stay I will.”

“Go, Bada. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.” You said as you stood up and gave her shoulder a squeeze as you walked past her. “I’ll be going to sleep now anyway. See you later.”

Bada watched you leave - a recurring pattern that she was becoming sick of. She was sick of watching you leave to go and spend the night with other people. She was sick of watching you leave to go and isolate yourself. You had your walls high up and you only ever depended on yourself - nobody else. But Bada knew that you deserved better. She knew that you could be happy with the right person.

So she decided that she would take a chance and try to be that person for you.

Later that evening, you found yourself on the couch in your bestfriends arms as you cuddled, her arms wrapped around you from behind and you both laid there - a gesture that wasn’t unusual to the both of you. You both lay in relative silence as she played with your hair, your eyes trained on the television in front of you but hers focused on you.

She swallowed her nerves and cleared her throat, “How are you feeling ?”

Her fingers twirled strands of your hair and her grip on you tightened slightly.

“I’m okay now. I’m over it. Shit happens but life goes on.”

Bada lightly called your name.

You hummed.

“Give me one hundred days.”

“What ?”

“Give me one hundred days and I can make you fall in love with me.”

You nearly burst out laughing, thinking she was joking but when you turned to face her you saw seriousness written on her face.

“You’re not joking ?” You said as you removed yourself from her arms and stood up; taking a couple steps back.

“No. I’m not.” Bada rose to her feet, her tall frame exceeding yours by inches as she stared down at you with eyes full of determination. “I am tired of watching you be miserable. I’m tired of sitting back and watching you leave and spend the night with random people that don’t care about you. I know you, and I know that you’re not happy. I know that you could be happier and I know that I can do that for you. I'm your best friend but give me one hundred days - give me one summer to show you how you deserve to be treated. I want to show you that you deserve to be loved and you deserve to feel it too.”

You stood there, words dying on your tongue as your head spinned. “Bada, where is this coming from ? You know how I feel about relationships . . .”

“I do know yes. But I know it’s because you’re afraid of being hurt.”

Bada took a step toward you.

“But you don’t have to be afraid with me,” your name fell from her lips as she gazed down at you. “I would never dream of hurting you. I’m not perfect, I know. But I can promise you that I am worth taking the chance with. Just one hundred days, spend the summer by my side and if you want to stop at any moment you can. We can end it at any time and forget it ever happened.”

“But the fact that you’re my best friend scares me even more, Bada . . .”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to make a decision right now. I just thought I'd put it out there. If you ever decide to give love a chance, I'm here to guide you through it.”

The next day you woke up, wondering if it was all a dream. That your best friend had not basically admitted to being in love with you. You had love for Bada, but it wasn’t romantic. She was your best friend. You loved spending time in her company, you loved how she would always make you laugh, you loved how she would hold you in her arms as you both laid on the couch watching a series that the both of you knew you would never finish. You loved how her fingers felt in your hair when she would mindlessly play with it and you loved how you both seemed to complete each other. But Bada was your best friend - it was simply platonic. And that is what you planned to tell her that morning when you made your way out of your room; but a familiar voice grabbed your attention.

“I know she’s here. Just let me see her, I want to apologise.”

“I told you to leave. She’s not here and even if she was, there’s no way I'd let you speak to her,” Bada’s chest puffed out slightly as she glared down at the girl standing at the door.

“Go home. Now.”

Goosebumps rose on your skin. You had never seen Bada like that before, her intimidating aura completely caught you off guard as you stood and watched the encounter unfold.

“Or what ?” The girl scoffed.

“Or I'll shove those shitty roses down your throat. And I mean what I say - which might be a foreign concept to you. So get lost.”

“Who the fuck are you ? You’re not her fucking girlfriend, let me speak to her for fucks sake.” The girl cursed, quickly losing the last ounce of her composure.

You knew Bada wouldn’t stand down and you quickly walked over and poked your head from behind her tall frame.

“Hi. You’re speaking to me now and I'm telling you to go home. I don’t want to hear your excuses. You lied - end of.”

Your eyes immediately caught the sight of the bouquet of roses in the girl's hands and you scoffed at the audacity.

“There’s no way. Please, go home. I don’t have time for this.”

The girl gripped the roses tighter as she held them out to you. “I wanted to apologise. I’m sorry for what happened and how things played out. I’m single now and I want to win you back. I hope that we can finally date now-”

“Of course you’re single, you're a liar and a cheater !” You laughed bitterly.

You hadn't noticed, but Bada had taken a step back, allowing you to take the reins. She stood to the side, hands in pockets and a small smirk on her face as she admired you right in that moment - your rage making her fall harder.

“And if I wanted to date someone it most certainly would not be you. Now leave and don’t come back. Don’t contact me either.”

You slammed the door.

You let out a breath and turned back to face Bada.

“Can you believe her ? Bringing me roses and asking me to date her . . .” You scoffed as the anger slowly sizzled within you.

“If only she knew that your favourite flowers are tulips.”

Her words extinguished any flicker of anger left within you.

You both stood there, looking at the other for a moment.

“Bada, are you in love with me ?” You breathed out.

She paused for a moment before responding.

“I am.”

You were so dazed that you weren't sure if your heart skipped a beat or sank into your chest.

“For how long ?”

“For as long as I can remember.”

You exhaled.

“What you said yesterday . . . Did you mean it ?”

“I did. I want to be the one to make you happy.”

You breathed out a nervous breath, “Bada, I can’t promise you anything. I can’t promise that I actually will fall in love with you at the end of the summer. I can’t promise that I won’t self sabotage and maybe ruin our friendship in the process. That’s if I agree to this.”

Bada took a tentative step toward you.

“I won’t let our friendship be ruined. I won’t give that up but if you choose to then there’s not much I can do. But just know that whatever you decide, right now or further down the line, I’ll respect it.”

You took a deep inhale and played with your fingers as the nerves crawled up your body. Disbelief in yourself at your following words.

“Then, okay.”

“Okay ?”

“You’re right, I am scared of being hurt and of love. But I also trust you - you’re my best friend and there’s nobody else I'd rather try this with.”

You took a step forward.

“So, okay. I’ll give you one hundred days to make me fall in love with you.”

Bada’s heart bounced around her chest in a dance of glee and she smiled down at you, her hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And that was how it began - Day 1.

Day 16

Hushed laughter and giggles filled the summer evening air as you and Bada walked arm in arm down the dimly lit street.

“You are definitely drunk.” Bada laughed as she held onto you tighter, steadying your footsteps.

“I am not !” You gasped overdramatically as you snapped your head to face her. “I’m a little tipsy, that’s all. And so are youuuu.” You sang as you poked her chest, giggling as the alcohol made you feel light and free as a feather.

Bada grabbed your wrist and pulled you aside.

“Watch where you’re going. We only had about two drinks, I forgot how much of a lightweight you are.” She teased.

“You’re a little tipsy too, don’t lie.”

“But I’m not a lightweight like you.”

You whacked her arm jokingly and detached yourself from her hold, attempting to walk ahead of her but she chuckled and swiftly caught your arm, gently tugging you back.

“Now where do you think you’re going, hm ?”

“Away from you.” You stubbornly replied but allowed her to place her hand in yours once more.

“Did you enjoy dinner ?” The older girl asked, fingers now locked with yours.

“I did, yes. It was nice. Thank you again for taking me out.”

“And again, it’s my pleasure. I'm glad you had a good time.” Bada smiled down at you and you avoided her gaze.

Suddenly the night sky rumbled as thunder rippled through the air. Almost instantaneously, raindrops began falling, accelerating in speed as the heavens opened up.

You squealed with laughter and Bada’s grip tightened as she pulled you through the rain.

“Bada, run !” You laughed as the both of you picked up speed and ran for the trees in hopes of shelter.

“You just had to suggest that we walk.” You laughed as the raindrops fell mostly around the both of you now that you were under the protective umbrella of a tree’s leaves, the occasional droplet slipped its way through the gaps of the branches.

“I thought a moonlit walk would be romantic.” Bada laughed as she wiped her face, her fringe stuck to her forehead.

You smiled at the sight of her.

Bada smiled back as the both of you stood there, held hostage by the plummeting raindrops.

You tore yourself away from her gaze, cleared your throat and turned your back to her. The sight of the gleaming full moon stole your attention and you pointed to it, “Bada, look. We can still watch the moon.”

“Uhuh.” The taller girl muttered as she was, instead, watching you.

“It’s so pretty.” You gushed as you continued to face away from her.

“It is.” Bada wasn’t talking about the moon.

Bada reached out and gently took a hold of your fingers and turned you to face her.

“You know how you always said that kissing in the rain was overdramatic and overdone in the movies ?” Bada muttered as her fingers grazed over your knuckles.

“Yeah . . .”

She licked her lips and your heart thumped in your chest.

“Do you wanna be really overdramatic with me right now ?”

You swore it was the alcohol in your system but the rain had sobered you up.

“Ok.” You whispered.

Bada took a step out into the rain and pulled you against her, foreheads meeting in the middle as the rain showered over the both of you. You licked your lips in anticipation, and Bada let out a small hum before her thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

Your breath caught in your throat.

You reminded yourself that it was just a kiss.

“Do you want this ?” She said in a breathless whisper.

“I do.”

Bada didn’t hesitate as she grabbed your waist and pulled you impossibly closer to her, your lips collided in a desperate dance of both certainty and uncertainty. Bada was certain that right at that moment, you had completed her. The way you fit so perfectly in her hands, the way your lips melted together and tongues danced - she was certain.

You, however, were uncertain. Uncertain of if you had just felt a crack form within the walls surrounding your heart. It was impossible. You imagined it.

Because it was just a kiss.

Day 18

“Achoo !”

You sneezed into the tissue and Bada passed you another.

“This is your fault.” You coughed out before letting out another sneeze.

Bada sat beside you and draped a thick blanket around your frame. “You’ve said that five times already.”

You curled into the blanket and Bada wrapped an arm around you, her other hand holding a bowl toward you.

“Now, drink your soup. I just made it.”

After your date in the rain you had fallen sick and despite your persistent arguments that you were fine and could take care of yourself - Bada was right beside you, nursing you back to health.

You had threatened her with the likely possibility that she too would fall sick but Bada responded by driving to the store, buying your favourite snacks and then making you a hot bowl of soup before she settled beside you on the couch, arms wrapped around you as they usually were.

You took a sip of your soup and you groaned.

“You’re making it so hard to stay mad at you.”

“You were never mad at me.”

Day 21

Bada groaned as she staggered into the living room, her duvet trailing behind her and swallowing her frame.

“I'm sick.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up.

“I told you you’d get sick. You didn’t listen, and you say I'm stubborn.”

Bada responded with another groan and a cough as she glided across the room in the oversized blanket before dramatically collapsing onto the couch.

“Go back to bed, Bada. You’ll be comfier there.” You said as you busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for your roommate.

Bada raised her head to look over to you.

“Is that for me ?”

“It is.”

“You’re so - ACHOO ! - cute.”

She wiped her nose and you snorted.

“Go back to bed.”

Day 48

You stood, fingers gripping the rubber basketball as you took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the target.

A few feet away from you stood three basketball hoops, and a row of soft plushies hung besides them on either side. There was only one last shot that stood in between you and your chosen soft toy. And you were aiming for the winning shot.

Bada stood behind you, her hands rested on your hips as she chanted words of encouragement into your ears.

“You got this. Just one last hoop.”

You took your stance and raised the ball slightly above your eye line, you then perched it on your fingertips as you aimed and then launched it at the hoop.

The basketball hit the backboard and then bounced onto the ring.

It edged along the circumference of the hoop almost in slow motion before it finally fell through the middle.

You cheered and jumped and Bada scooped you up into her strong embrace, spinning you around.

You laughed and she kissed your nose.

“Now, what will the lucky lady choose ?” The man working at the stall grinned as his arm stretched out, showcasing his collection of prizes.

You immediately pointed to a big dolphin plushie and the guy handed it over to you. You thanked him and then spun around before holding the cuddly toy out to Bada. She raised her brow slightly and you gently pushed the toy into her arms.

“It’s for you. A dolphin goes with the sea.”

Bada stood there, slightly taken aback but touched. She took the dolphin plushie from you and held it to her chest before she grabbed your chin with her thumb and index finger, angling your face upwards to face her.

“Thank you, baby.”

She closed the gap and softly kissed your lips.

Bada had taken you to the annual summer fair and you were honestly having a great time. There were times where you would forget the circumstances in which you were under - that your best friend was trying to make you fall in love with her. And days like this, where you both seemed to revel in each other’s company, overpowered the blaring sirens in your head each time you shared yearning touches and gentle kisses. You chalked it up to the fact that you were best friends, so of course it felt the way it did - so right.

Evening approached and you and Bada found yourselves in the carriage of a ferris wheel as it steadily travelled skywards. You mentioned that you wanted to see the fireworks and Bada took it upon herself to ensure that you did - from the sky.

The evening sky bled to a deep blue. You watched as remnants of the summer sun, still lingering in light brush strokes, soon faded into the darkness as the night sky took command.

Bada’s body pressed up behind you, her arms on either side of you as she held onto the railing. You absentmindedly leaned back into her chest and she placed her chin on your shoulder, before ghosting her lips against the skin of your neck.

Shivers ran down your spine.

You parted your lips to say something but a bright shooting light rushed up into the sky before exploding into thousands of spectacular sparks. Countless more followed as the once empty canvas, that was the night sky, became an artwork of shimmering colours.

The romantic ambience of the night didn't escape you and neither did the pestering butterflies that fluttered around your stomach.

Your carriage was nearing the top and Bada placed a hand on your waist and turned you around. Face to face with inches between you, ‘Have her eyes always shone like this ? Were they always this pretty ?’

“Bada . . .” You breathed out onto her nearing lips.

“Hm ?” Her hand snaked around your waist.

“I-I think I like you . . .”

Your words halted Bada in her motions and she stared at you as her eyes scanned your face.

“You do ?” She said with a hopeful breath.

You nod your head, swallowing hard.

“Don’t think about it.” You whisper to Bada but also to yourself as the realisation of your words hit you.

“But-”

“Just kiss me.”

You leaned in, eliminating all distance between the two of you. Your lips crashed against Bada’s and you felt her immediately pull you flush against her, in return, your arms found their way around her broad shoulders. Bada nibbled on your bottom lip and you parted them, making way for her wet tongue to explore your mouth. You felt her tongue meet yours and a moan escaped your lips. Hearing your desperate sounds, Bada’s hands slided down to your ass, giving it a squeeze before sliding back up your back and over your body as she worshipped you.

“Fuck. You’re so perfect.” The taller girl groaned before desperately reattaching her mouth to yours.

Sparks flew as your lips spoke in a dance of tenderness and yearning. Likewise, the sparks of fire that cascaded down the night sky fell around you both in a glistening waterfall of explosive vibrancy as you reached the top - lost in the hunger for each other.

Bada had never kissed you like that. She had never touched you like that or looked so deeply into your soul with such desire and the events and emotions from the night played over in your mind as you now sat besides her in the passenger seat as she drove the both of you home.

You entered into your shared apartment and Bada followed behind you, shutting the door. You turned to face her and she took a step toward you, eyes never breaking their contact.

Your heart wrestled with reason as you fought the urge to jump back into her arms.

You saw Bada bite her lip slightly as her eyes scanned your body.

“Um,” you cleared your throat, “I’ll be going to bed now.”

“O-oh yeah. Me too, it’s late.”

“Yeah.”

You quickly set off for your room and shut the door behind you, body leant against it as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. This was the right call, for sure. The tension was too high right now and you didn’t want to cross any lines that you couldn’t go back on.

You sighed and then dragged yourself to your bathroom, ready to wash off the thoughts that plagued your mind.

Bada sat on the edge of her bed, face in her hands as she fought the urge to go over to your room. The last thing she wanted was to go too fast, especially after you had just confessed to harbouring some feelings for her; she didn’t want to overwhelm you. But Bada swore that she didn’t imagine the look in your eyes or the way you held onto her as you kissed and touched. Did you want her the way she wanted you ?

Down the hall you paced around in your room. Picking at your fingernails as you deliberated the consequences of walking down the hallway and knocking on your best friend's door.

A brief moment passed.

“Fuck it.” You said under your breath as you strode over to swing open your door.

But before you stood said best friend, with a hand frozen in motion as if about to knock.

Your heart skipped several beats and found its way into your throat. Words failed to leave your lips as you stood frozen, eyes locked with Bada’s.

“Hey.” She muttered, licking her lips slightly as her chest rose and fell with anticipation.

“Hey.” You whispered back, heat rushing through your veins.

“I thought you were going to bed ?” You breathed out.

“I thought you were.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I.” Bada’s gaze intensified.

Your body took over your mind and you took a slow step backward into your room, eyes never leaving Bada’s.

She followed your lead and took a step forwards, shutting the door behind her with her foot, eyes never leaving yours.

“What are we doing ?” You whisper as the suffocating tension stole your breath away.

“Tell me to leave.” She breathed out as she stared into your eyes.

“I don't want that.”

“What do you want ?” Bada gazed at you with want.

“Stay . . . Please.”

You took a step forward.

“I’ll stay.” Bada muttered as she admired your features and took in the slight crease of your brow and the way you nibbled on your bottom lip. She knew you were nervous.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Bada said as she reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“What if I want to . . .”

Bada’s eyes darkened slightly and she cupped your face in her gentle hands.

“What do you want to do, hm ?”

“This.”

You pressed your lips against hers in a fervent passion, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and hers grabbed onto your hips as she held you impossibly close. Your breaths mixed and small moans fell from your tongue as it danced along with hers.

“Are you sure about this ?” Bada said in between kisses as the both of you stumbled across your room in the direction of your bed, lips refusing to part.

“I’m sure, Bada.” You whisper before Bada gently lowered you onto the bed.

Bada climbed on top of you and you lay there, lashes fluttering as you held her stare.

She licked her lips and leaned in to press a kiss behind your ear. You shivered and she began a tender trail of kisses down your neck muttering gentle whispers onto your warm skin as her hands slid under and up your shirt, fingers grazing your delicate body.

“Relax for me.”

Time seemed to stop as you and Bada laid there exploring each other's bodies. With the barrier of clothes and fabrics long gone, your bodies pressed together merging into one as her fingers slid in and out of you. Your hips bucked against her, desperately chasing the pleasure but Bada’s grip on your waist firmed as she held you in place.

“You’re so sensitive aren’t you ?” Bada muttered, her gaze deep with craving as her fingers continued their relentless pounding into your dripping cunt. She licked her lips. Your body was beautiful and she struggled to comprehend that the person laid bare before her wasn’t actually a being - heaven sent. But to her you were one and the same.

Moans and whimpers of her name fell from your lips and you grabbed onto her arm. “I-I'm close, Bada.”

She smirked down at you and lowered her head down to meet your aching core. Bada wasted no time and attached her plump lips to your clit, sucking and licking it as her fingers pumped in and out of you - speed increasing.

Your back arched and your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you as an earth shattering wave of pleasure crashed through your body causing your legs to shake. Bada moaned onto your clit as she sucked on it; the feeling of your walls contracting around her fingers turned her on even more and she lowered her tongue before licking your cunt dry as it dripped with your sweet release.

You laid breathless and legs twitching as you came down from your climax. Bada ran her hands softly over your sides as they travelled up your body. One hand rested on your neck and the other took your left breast into its palm before gently massaging it.

“You’re so beautiful.” She muttered before pressing her lips to yours in a messy open mouthed kiss, your tongues fought against the other as you tasted yourself on her.

You broke away from the kiss and sat up. “I wanna make you feel good too . . .” You looked up at the taller girl with pleading eyes.

Bada felt her heart flip and she bit her lip at the thought of you touching her.

“C’mere then, princess.”

Bada pulled you up on top of her and you straddled her waist. Her fingers dug into your hot skin and yours trailed along her chest, grazing over her nipples.

She inhaled a sharp breath and you smirked a little before taking her nipples in between your thumb and pointer and began rolling them. You felt as they quickly hardened and you lowered your head to her chest, gazing up at Bada as she gazed back down at you. Your lips parted and took Bada’s erect nipple into your mouth, tongue swirling around it as you licked her chest, savouring the taste of her skin and the sounds she made above you.

Bada moaned a little, hands gripped your waist as she pushed her chest out further into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby. Your tongue feels so good.” She whispered breathlessly. “You gonna let me use that pretty little mouth of yours ?”

You hummed in response and began a trail of kisses down her chest and torso. Bada smirked down at you and leaned back on her elbows as she spread her legs apart for you.

Your heart hammered in your chest and you didn't question why. You kissed Bada’s thighs, inching closer to core. You looked up at her through your lashes and her intense gaze bore into you, turning you on impossibly more. You held her gaze as you leaned in, your fingers slid up her wetness and then parted her pussy lips exposing her dripping hole to you. You stuck out your tongue and pressed it against her clit circling it in steady motions.

Bada jolted above you and she moaned out a curse.

Her noises and breathless moans fueled your tongue as you began sucking and licking her clit, moaning as you did so. You kept her lips parted, determined to taste every part of her as your wet muscle travelled down to her aching hole. You prodded your tongue against it, circling it and lapping up her juices as she jerked her hips onto your face.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby. Eat my pussy like the pretty little slut you are.” Bada groaned as her fingers reached down to tangle in your hair, gripping it in her palm as she held your face against her aching cunt.

You moaned at her words, sending vibrations onto her sensitive skin as you continued to lick her folds. You felt yourself grow wetter and you stretched your hand between your legs and began rubbing your clit, matching the pace of your tongue against her.

“Are you touching yourself ?” Bada breathed out as she pulled you away from her by your hair, making you look at her.

You paused in your actions and nodded wordlessly.

Bada’s eyes darkened and she licked her lips. “Such a needy whore.”

Bada flipped you over. You laid on the mattress and she perched above you. She grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to her, angling you on your side and then lay on her side before sliding her legs in between yours - your wet cunts inches away from touching.

“You wanna come again, hm ? Well come with me, princess.”

Bada gripped onto your ankle as she held your leg over her shoulder and then slid closer to join her pussy with yours. Your wet cunts rubbed against each other as Bada took control of the rhythm, jerking her hips forwards as her pussy lips kissed yours. Your clits bumped and slid against each other’s and whimpers and moans danced from your lips and hers.

“You feel so good, baby.” Bada moaned.

“F-fuck. Don’t stop . . .” You whimpered.

And Bada didn’t stop. The both of you spent the night tangled in each other, moaning praises as you worshipped each other’s bodies.

Day 73

The music boomed from the stereos and cheers and excited whispers danced alongside it in the air. Bada stood in the middle of the practice room as students gathered and watched from the sides. The tempo built up and Bada began to move her body to the beat, her aura of swagger encompassing her as she moved.

You had invited Bada to your dance class and everyone begged her to do her iconic choreo to ‘You Got It’. So there she was, dancing as the crowd around her ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’.

You watched from the front of the crowd, arms crossed as your eyes followed her every move - as if in a trance. A small smile sat on your lips as you watched the way she emulated the vibe of the lyrics through her body and expressions, you felt butterflies in your stomach as you watched her and blushed at the way her eyes flickered to you at certain lyrics.

Bada held your gaze as she continued to dance, she then smoothly made her way over to you as the beat came to a low point in the song. You laughed and shook your head at her - knowing exactly what part of the choreo she was about to do next. Bada smiled back at you and took your hand in hers, bringing you to the dance floor with her as she danced the lyrics to you.

Oh yeah, it's time to mix it up and get ya glow girl.

Bada slid right up to you with a smirk as she grabbed her pants and jerked her hips, eyes not leaving yours.

The practice room broke out into squeals and screams and you laughed and moved your body along with the music as Bada continued to dance around you.

I want you to know that girl you got it.

Bada ended her dance with her hands on your hips and yours around her shoulders.

The room exploded into chaos and you stepped back, laughing to hide the nerves that bubbled within you. Bada, on the other hand, just gazed at you with a grin on her face - you were all she saw in that moment.

Day 90

The morning sun poked through the curtains and you tossed and turned, opening your eyes slightly. Beside you laid Bada, snoring lightly. You smiled to yourself and brushed her messy fringe with your fingers as you found yourself admiring her peaceful face. The way her pink lips parted slightly, her long lashes that rested against her soft skin and cheeks tinted with a slight pink hue. You loved waking up to the sight of her. You don’t know when it began but you had been sleeping in her bed, regardless of sex. You enjoyed coming home and climbing into her warm embrace as she would cuddle you and kiss the top of your head - a usual practice between the two of you. You loved how she would hold your hand when in public and you loved how her fingers slid perfectly in yours. You loved how she still made you your favourite cup of herbal tea each morning and then would kiss your forehead after handing it to you.

You paused.

Realisation washed over you like an avalanche of repressed emotions.

You immediately got out of bed as quietly as your nerves would allow. You then picked up your clothes that were scattered on the floor and hurried out of Bada’s room.

If Bada was awake she would have heard the front door shut. But she wouldn’t have known that that would be the last time she saw you that week.

Day 97

Bada opened your messages and saw that you still had not responded to her since three days ago when you sent her a brief, ‘Busy all week. Don’t wait up.’

She sighed in frustration and gripped her hair in her hands. Thoughts weighed heavy on her mind, she wondered if she did something wrong, she wondered if she hurt you. Bada decided that enough was enough and she would speak to no matter what.

Later that night, you softly unlocked the front door, opening it in small intervals to avoid making any sounds. You had been avoiding Bada all week and as far as you were concerned you intended to continue, until you snapped out of whatever delusion you believed yourself to be in. Because that's what it is - delusion.

You creeped down the hallway and gently opened your room door and entered, you faltered in your step because before you sat your roommate. Bada looked up at you from her seat on your bed and stood up.

She said your name in a soft manner and you recoiled.

“What are you doing ?” You asked.

“Waiting for you. You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

“I’ve been busy. I told you.”

Bada’s eyes scan your frame, eyening your choice of attire.

“Busy going out in short dresses and heels and then coming home late at night ?”

Bada stepped forward.

“Whilst also reeking of alcohol ?”

You scoffed. “And so what ? Since when have you cared about what I wear or do ?”

Bada frowns. “Since you decided to ghost me for a week after things were going so well.”

“Things were going well for you.” You folded your arms.

Bada scanned your face, she knew you were lying.

She took another step forward, now in front of you, breaths away.

You stood your ground and stayed firm in place, trying your best to keep your walls upright and strong.

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t like the way I held you.” Bada whispered as her hands moved to rest on your waist, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin.

You gulped and cleared your throat.

“Bada . . .”

“Or the way I touched you.” She tightened her grip on your waist and pushed you back against the door, trapping you in her arms.

Your heart pounded against your chest and you cursed at it.

“Tell me to stop.” She whispered as she looked at you with darkened eyes.

Your eyes flickered to her lips and you found yourself closing your eyes and leaning in.

Bada met you halfway and crashed her lips into yours. She pressed herself against you and your arms flew to her shoulders, securing your bodies together. The taller girl bit your bottom lip and groaned into your mouth before her tongue slid in and you let out a small moan in response.

Why did kissing your roommate - your best friend - feel so right ? You had spent the past week arguing with yourself and begging your heart to stop its yearning for the older girl. You liked her, that was it. It wasn’t love. It would never be love, because you did not do love. It was messy and it always ended in pain. You couldn’t fall in love with your best friend.

Your hands removed themselves from Bada’s shoulders and you roughly pushed her away. Breath heavy and lips slightly swollen as you blinked at her for a moment.

“Leave.” You whispered.

“What ?” Bada muttered, unsure of if she heard you correctly,

“Get out of my room, Bada.” You begged, eyes glossing with tears.

Bada’s brows twitched and she reached out for you.

“Get Out ! Now !” You cried out.

“I don’t love you. I will never love you. Fuck, I don’t know why I agreed to this,” You ran your fingers through your hair as you paced around your bedroom.

Bada’s eyes never left you as she stood frozen.

Your head snapped to look at her. “You deserve better. I can’t love you. So leave Bada.”

You had Bada’s heart in the palm of your hand. For as long as she could remember she knew that her heart belonged to you. But you had now grabbed the organ that beats for you and crushed it between your delicate fingers.

So Bada honoured your wishes and she left.

Day 99

Bada had been going out every night since that night. You knew this because you would hear the slam of the front door each evening when she left and then hours later when she came back home in a drunken state.

However, tonight was different.

Your phone rings and you see Bada’s name flash up on your screen. Your heart skips a beat and you stare at it for a moment.

“Hello ?” You say into the phone, unsure of what to expect.

“Hello ?” A muffled voice you don’t recognise responds as it asks your name to confirm.

“Yes, that’s me. Who are yo-”

“Can you come and get Bada ? She’s completely wasted.”

That's how you found yourself guiding a very drunken Bada back through your apartment doors and into her bedroom.

Bada stumbled onto her bed and you took a step back. “I’ll be back. I’ll go get you a cup of water.”

You returned to see Bada had kicked off her shoes and laid face first into the mattress.

“Bada ? Here.” You say, handing her the cup.

“I didn’t think you would actually come back.” She mumbled turning to face you. “You hate me.”

Your heart ached. “I don’t hate you, Bada.”

“I’m sorry for being in love with you.” She slurs as tears brim in her eyes.

You swallow the lump in your throat and move to sit on the edge of her bed. “Don’t be sorry. Please just drink this and try to sleep.”

Bada takes the cup from you. “ Will you leave ?”

“Um, I-I can if you want me to.” You stammer, playing with your fingers nervously.

“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want my best friend to hate me. I don’t want to lose you . . .” You watch as a tear falls from Bada’s eye and your heart cracks.

As if by instinct you move closer to Bada and you hold her in your arms, comforting her with a hug. “I won’t leave you, Bada. And I don’t hate you . . . It’s the opposite.” You whisper the last part under your breath.

Bada wraps her arms around your waist before allowing her body to relax in your arms. Her eyes flutter shut and you stare down at her as she dozes off - this particular scene forcing memories and emotions back into your mind.

You then try to remove yourself from her hold but she grips onto you tighter.

“Stay.” You hear a small whisper and so you do.

You wrapped your arms back around Bada and you stayed.

Day 100

Morning came and your eyes fluttered open. Bada now lay behind you, arm slung over your body as she pressed up against you. Events of last night still clear in your mind, you intended to slip out of Bada’s arms and back into your room in hopes that she didn’t remember much.

You gently took Bada’s arm and raised it, slipping out of her hold and then inching closer to the edge of the bed. You let out a hushed exhale and then stood up, gently treading as you made your way to her door.

“Are you leaving ?”

A sleepy voice halts you in your tracks.

You swiftly turn and see a messy haired Bada rubbing her eyes as she sits up.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “I’m just going back to my room.”

“Oh, alright . . . Thank you for staying when I asked.”

Your stomach drops a little. “You remember asking ?”

“I remember a little bit.”

“O-oh, okay. Well I hope you feel a little better now.” You rushed as your hand grabbed onto the door handle and swung it open.

“What did you mean when you said that you didn’t hate me, that it was the opposite ?”

Your heart stopped.

“I didn’t say that. You were drunk, Bada.”

“I know what I heard,” Bada says your name firmly. “Why did you push me away ?”

Bada slowly rose to her feet, gaining her balance.

“Because I can’t love you.” You muttered, eyes avoiding hers.

Bada stepped forward. “And why can’t you love me ?”

Your feet refused to move.

“You deserve better than me. I’m not meant to love or be loved . . .”

Bada took another step closer.

“Do you love me ?”

Your heart thundered in your chest.

“Bada, I can’t-”

“Do you love me ?”

You swallowed hard.

“I’m not the one for yo-”

“I can decide that for myself, if you’re the one or not. You don’t get to make decisions regarding the both of us and how I feel toward you.” Bada breathes out as she takes another step, now standing directly before you. “My heart beats for you. It belongs to you like it was carved and sculpted to beat to the rhythm of your name. I know you and I know that I love you. Do you love me ?”

“I love you.” You choke out. Tears glossing your eyes. “I-I do love you. But I'm afraid, Bada.”

Bada takes you in her arms.

“You can love, so you’re meant to be loved. It is scary, yes. But I'm here and I love you in return.”

You cried into Bada’s chest as she held you to her heart as it pumped just for you.

The once impenetrable towers that stood mighty around your heart now crumbled. The remaining bricks fell away as Bada tamed the fiery beast that guarded your fragile heart, forcing the doubt and fear into submission as she held you and wiped your falling tears. Bada had rescued you.

“You deserve to be happy,” Bada mutters into your hair as she traces mindless patterns on your back, still holding you dear. “You deserve to be loved.”

“You make me happy.” You sniffle.

“And I'm glad. You make me happy too.” She whispers before you pull away from her embrace, wiping your teary eyes.

“I think I've always loved you, Bada.” You whisper, eyes locked with hers. “And that’s what frightened me.”

Bada took your face in her palm, thumb gently rubbing your cheek.

“I’ve always loved you and I don’t think I'll stop anytime soon.”

“Please don't stop.” You plead in one breath.

Bada gazes at you with eyes full of adoration.

“I won't. I love you,” your name gently falls from her lips.

“I love you too, Bada.”

Bada smiles and brings you closer. She leans in and joins her lips with yours in a tender exchange of love - love that the two of you always shared.

Tag List / / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! [OPEN]

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada imagine #bada lee swf #bada lee #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut #grammar n punctuation always gna beat my ass

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thinkingofausername · 5 months ago

Text

Mutual Misunderstanding (Astarion x Tav)

Summary: Tav has doubts after sleeping with Astarion and leaves him to wake up alone. He draws the worst conclusion.

A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a fanfic and MAN do I have even more respect for fic writers than I already did. This is based on a request/prompt of mine that I posted some time ago.

CW: mention of sex, insecurity, mental health issues, PTSD, mention of noncon, mention of vomiting, bad coping mechanisms, miscommunication, it all ends well though

Tav woke up with the bright heat of the morning sun on their face. They rubbed their eyes and stretched with a pleased sigh before looking at their surrounding. When their gaze fell on Astarion, something in them tightened their chest and pulled the corners of their lips into a small, giddy smile.

For a person doomed to have the sun as his enemy, he looked divine in its glow. His soft curls looked even whiter than usual, his face uncommonly peaceful. No smirk, no snark, just his features, so soft and off guard it caused a fondness to bloom in their chest.

His shirtless chest rose and fell calmly, though he needn't take any breaths at all. Some phantom need, or habit, perhaps. Though his skin was like marble, practically golden in the light, it arose no heat within them. They simply found him beautiful.

They recalled the previous night like a warm, panting, thrilling rush of glimpses. Though filled with passion led by quite an experienced person, they found themselves seeing it as quite... genuine. Astarion knew they haven't had many experiences in the sheets and that they found themselves at a loss at what to do. He gently took the reigns and they had felt genuine safety and care.

Like the sudden feeling of grass beneath their naked back as grogginess gives way for clarity, some overthinking, insecure voice reared its head and paved the way for regret.

All the caresses felt smooth as silk, how many others felt them? All the whispers and rumbles of his voice toyed with their heartbeats, how many others can recall that? All the promises of pleasure and consent reassured them, how many others have had their doubts quelled in such ways?

All that had felt so true and blissful was rapidly becoming nauseating. With all the countless "dances" of his, how can one know spontaneous steps from practiced ones? How could they be sure they were pleasurable enough, appealing enough, exciting enough? They felt a new chapter turning for the two of them, a genuine and loyal one. Now they weren't sure of anything. Now they felt foolish, naïve, played. Gods forgive them, they cared for Astarion so much, but that damned elven, bastardly, precious vampire had them feeling like a cheap one-night-stand. They couldn't blame him but they couldn't think either.

As quickly and quietly as possible, they got dressed and rushed back towards the camp.

When Astarion woke up, he turned on his side towards Tav's smell which still lingered and reached out. His eyes sprang open as his hand met only air and ground. It took him a second to gather himself, remember where he was and what he had been doing. He couldn't even think of the fact he had slept without a nightmare in gods know how long, or that last night was a rarity during which he was fully and gladly present. Any good feelings got thrust into the background as an all too familiar one washed over him.

He couldn't even tell if it was his voice or Cazador's ringing in his head. "You were weak. You put your guard down. You enjoyed yourself. You are a fool. You are a dirty, cheap body to be gripped and groped and thrown away. You are a temporary pleasure with no face and no voice."

If he had a mortal body, he surely would've vomited.

A too complicated clashing of reasonings overwhelmed him. "They used you, but of course they did. Why are you even surprised? You approached them for your own gain, why would you expect a transaction to turn into anything real? Just swallow your trivial feelings and move on." And yet on the other hand - he had felt it was becoming real. It never should've, he never planned for it, but it happened. He subconsciously gave it a chance and look where it got him. Feeling like a naïve fool.

He got dressed, doing it mechanically through memories of filth, bruises, a ringing in his ears and a painful and shameful throbbing between his legs. He walked back to camp, readying his charm on the way.

When he approached them in camp, it felt like a play. Like last night was an episode and they were now back on track.

"Hello, darling", he purred, "Was the walk here terribly difficult? I imagine after last night's... performance, your legs would be quite shaky."

"I'm... fine."

"Well... that's good to hear. We wouldn't want our precious leader experiencing any unwanted effects after sleeping with the nasty, suspicious vampire, now would we?"

Something felt so terribly wrong and regretful. They found no humor in his smirk, no charm in his expertly seductive voice. They just saw... hurt. Poorly disguised at that.

"Wait, Star, I feel like there's a misunderstanding here. Can we just-"

"Oh, so it's 'Star' now, is it? See that's funny, I thought nicknames and other such mushy things were reserved for couples, not late night trysts. But what would I know, after all I have bedded many a person but not one have I greeted in the morning, so don't take my word for anything."

It felt like everything was falling apart with no prior warning, like last night was a crucial moment and they missed out on some defining que.

"Astarion, can we please talk? Something's gone wrong here."

"Whatever do you mean, darling? Nothing's wrong. We had fun last night, lots of fun I might add, and now it is the next day, simple as that. There's nothing to talk about. Now, let's leave this dramatic business behind us and move on, shall we?"

"Astarion, I-"

"Darling, I think we've used our mouths more than enough last night, let's give them a break, yes?"

As he sauntered off, the sinking feeling rattled. In a matter of hours, it seems whatever they had built has managed to fall apart and put them back at the start.

Astarion had quite a talent for ignoring a person while giving them attention. It was the most ironic, painful thing they had witnessed in a long while. He responded, but they felt it would've hurt less if he had stayed quiet. He kept charming, and they yearned for every uncovered softness they had managed to receive from him.

Whenever they attempted to talk to him, either another companion needed them, or Astarion went on a hunt, or they needed to get moving. A few days passed when they got desperate.

"Astarion, we have to talk."

That was it, he thought. He was finally getting thrown away. He tried pretending everything was fine, but he knew that couldn't be the case. They had tasted the only valuable thing about him and they needed nothing else from him.

"Hello, my sweet." His voice almost shook. Gods, he can feel his throat getting tighter. "Do you need something?"

They were still struggling to understand what exactly happened between them, but all they knew at the moment was that Astarion seemed strangely nervous. Afraid, even.

"Easy, Star. I really just want to clear some things up."

"Well... did something happen?"

"Something did, I would just like to know what."

"Whatever could you mean, darling? Things have been perfectly fine."

"Star, please. There's been enough of this. We've been growing more and more distant after a night when we were closer than ever, it really doesn't make sense."

"Darling, if we were to get any closer than we were that night, we would become conjoined", he said with a strained chuckle.

"Okay...", they sighed, "I know that whatever we did some nights ago was a dance very familiar to you and so it likely meant nothing special to you, but it did to me. I'm sorry if I have managed to ruin things between us, but I just couldn't digest the thought of it meaning so little when it felt like so much."

"Oh no, no, no. Wait a gods damned minute, darling. I feel you might have mixed up our lines somehow. 'Likely meant nothing to me'? You're the one who was conveniently absent the following morning, or has the worm messed with my memory?"

He seemed shocked, a bit angry and against all his effort and hesitation, hopeful.

"I...", they huffed a sigh of realization with a small, self-deprecating smile. "It seems I misread your intentions. I'm sorry, Star, I really never meant to hurt you."

His relief was very apparent.

"It's alright, my sweet. I might've also, perhaps, let my dark thoughts get the better of me. It seems old habits truly do die hard. But just to be sure - that night... did mean something, to the both of us?"

"It certainly seems so."

"Well. That is good to know. I'm not sure where this leaves us though."

"Me neither. I've never really done things like this before."

"Reassuring news, truly. I was about to start feeling a bit... lacking, in the area."

"Then we can lack together."

"That doesn't sound so bad", he said with a chuckle and a softness in his eyes they had missed so much.

"Then let's raise an imaginary toast to figuring things out", they said with their hand raised as if holding a glass.

"You're positively ridiculous, my sweet. But yes", he said raising his own "glass", "and also to not leaving me to wake up alone on the dirt as if I had been robbed and knocked unconscious."

"That too. I really am sorry, Star."

"Oh, it's quite alright. Just don't do it again."

"Pinky promise?"

"Now you're overdoing it."

They chuckled as they finally felt the heaviness in the air between them dissipate.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #angst #fluff #bg3

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mintmatcha · 8 months ago

Note

talk about fatgum, Mint 🎤 tell us about how he yearns. tell us what goes through his head when he’s with her

cw: sex work mentioned, reader is bruised, implied abuse

He should be more concerned about you being seen coming to his apartment, especially when you're dressed like that.

"Mmm, I'm so glad you called." You gently close the door with your hip, hands full with a large brown bag and your purse. Your dress is short enough that he's afraid to see you bend over, tight enough that he can't help but watch. "Hope you like take out because I ordered a lot."

He's starving, of course. He's always this ravenous after a big fight, but he's been holding off for you. If he gains the weight and you end up figuring out who he is... he's not sure what the consequences will be. Nothing good could come from seeing an escort, but he can't keep you away.

You stride in like you belong here, placing your things on the coffee table before flashing him a smile. Then, you frown, comically big.

"Tai, baby, you look worse than ever." You reach over to his place on the couch and pinch his cheek. The little pressure aches, but not as badly as his chest does when you sound like that. "Is your nose broken?"

It's fractured up to the ridge, but it'll get healed tomorrow. "Just a little."

"Part of the job, I guess," you say, even though you don't sound convinced. You still think he's a boxer, spending his little winnings on nights with you.

"Don't worry about me." He reaches out and pats your side. "I'm just happy to see you."

You glow at that and Taishiro pretends it means something. He's not naive. He understands this is a business transaction to you, but he still lets himself pretend that this thing between you is something.

"Can I borrow one of your shirts?" You're already up and walking towards his bedroom. "This dress isn't comfortable."

"Second drawer down." You already know that. The real perk of being so tall and (normally) big is how cozy you look in his clothing. "I'll put on a movie."

"You're the best."

A couple minutes later, you're back, a comically oversized shirt acting as your new dress. Despite himself, he wonders if you're naked under there. He'll never act on it, he'll never expect or ask for sex from you during these little dates, but he can't pretend that his mind doesn't go there, especially when you bend down just like that and your neckline gaps-

A string of dark, uneven bruises trails down your bare chest. You're picking through the bag of food you ordered, none the wiser, but he's watching you, picking the spots that have been painted with concealer; the middle of your throat, a line straight under your jaw of both sides.

"You're bruised too."

You start at that.

"Yeah, well-" you inhale, then pop a dumpling into your mouth. You chew for a very long time, trying to postpone an answer. "Part of the job."

Again, he's not naive. He knows what men do to you, what you do to them. That doesn't bother him; what makes his skin crawl is the thought of their hands, closing a bit too tight, or coming down to make marks-

"It shouldn't be. If anyone's hurting you-"

"It's not like that." Suddenly, you settle down on his lap, feet tucked under one thigh. Your skin smells like saffron and sweetness, a hint of sweat underneath. Upclose, he can see your foundation is thicker than usual, poorly evened up over one cheek. "Here, say 'aw.'"

You hold a piece of food out by your fingers.

"I'm not hungry."

You sniff the air. "That's a lie-- come on, you're too skinny."

He hates and loves your little quirk, the ability to literally sniff out when something is wrong--

His lips close around your fingers for a moment longer than they need to.

"You're sweet." You say. "I wish all of my regulars are as sweet as you."

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lisenberry · 18 days ago

Text

The mountain is you

Chapter 4: I'm scared to let go of what I'm scared to lose

Dom Price x Fem Reader

MDNI/NSFW/18+

CW: Dom/Sub, Bondage, Sex Work, Voice Kink, Size Kink, Oral Sex, Bathroom Sex, Mirror Sex, Boot Riding, Orgasm Denial, Possessive Behavior

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3)

AO3

No two sessions with John were the same. You learned something new about yourself with each one.

That the act of waiting could be so therapeutic. Had you ever been so still as when he took his time looping ropes around your arms, breasts, ribs and waist? Tying the intricate knots just right, in perfectly symmetrical patterns, carefully avoiding your neck and throat. Reminding you to breathe, and hold your posture, in that voice that sounded so rough you wondered if it caused him pain just to speak.

That a deep, dull ache that never wavered, no matter how you squirmed or struggled, could be as cathartic as a sharp, fervent strike. When the bindings compressed your tissue and made your muscles throb with confusion. Like your skin was too tight, and you’d burst from the pressure. Until you finally broke through the building panic and let yourself melt into the fibers like well-tailored Chanel suit.

That being helpless wasn’t the same as being out of control. That surrender wasn’t as much about giving up as it was giving yourself over to something else. Someone else. To trust that his patience was his gift to you, and that he didn’t ask for anything in return for a reason. Maybe being there for you was enough for him.

He’d certainly been greedy for your abandon. Collected orgasms from you like they were precious stones, with his mouth and his hands. Played your body like an instrument to be drummed and plucked. Mouthed and blown. Percussion, string, and wind.

All to make you sing.

Little deaths. Little victories each.

But it had you feeling a bit like a selfish Sub. You listened. You obeyed. You cried. You came. But the more you played, the more anxious you became to give him some release. Relief. You wanted to see him taken care of, too.

You’d never bothered to explore new things with Ghost. He’d had a list of services he offered, but you hadn’t been tempted to branch out from the standard package. Anything extra, like temperature play or Shibari would cost a premium due to the additional time needed and the specialized skill they required.

Anyone could spank your ass, you supposed, but you had to pay extra for the finesse. Now, it seemed like you were getting it all for free. Or perhaps John didn’t desire anything more from you. It was simply a one-sided transaction for him, and he was just being nice. A favor for his old friend.

But you tried to shake those thoughts away when they threatened. He’d promised that you’d always know what he wanted. And never be left wondering what he was thinking. There was no room for insecurity when he’d stuck to the book when it came to everything else.

And once each scene was over, you stayed a little longer. After the first, when you’d practically run out the door like the building was on fire, he’d made a point to have food on hand that you could eat together. Something tasty and satisfying sitting in his gigantic, high-end fridge waiting to be heated up in the microwave and eaten cross-legged on his couch.

Conversation developed more easily, and you weren’t too shy to talk about the things you liked the most (rope play, hot showers, barehanded spanking, his aftershave), and those you weren’t keen to try again (so far, blindfolds hadn’t added anything to the experience for you). You found him to be funnier than you expected, with a wry sense of humor and an easy laugh.

You always left feeling...secure.

*****

The two men sitting across from you at the table of your go-to restaurant for closing deals with pushy potential clients were a father and son, CEO and VP team. Your company offered a service that they needed desperately. And they had the audacity to demand it at a cut rate.

They tried so hard to impress you with their staggering wealth and impressive portfolio, they must’ve forgotten that this was your job. That you weren’t fooled by overwhelming displays of douchebaggery. By smoke and mirrors. Cutting through the bullshit was what you did best.

And as dinner went on, they piled it waist high. Flung it around like monkeys at the zoo. In the end, you just had to plug your nose and wade through it with patience and your head held high.

Fuck them, their rare car collection, their villa on Lake Como, and their 75-meter yacht. You were ready to give in, to take the loss just to get them to stop fucking talking so you could go home and take off your bra.

The waiter had just brought over another round of drinks when you looked up to see John find a seat at a nearby table with an older couple who looked to be in their late sixties, and a beautiful woman in her early thirties.

It only took a second for his gaze to meet yours across the room. It was exactly the type of situation you had avoided with Ghost. That awkward breaking of the fourth wall when you ran into each other in the real world. Outside the protection of your carefully curated sessions.

You tried not to stare, but it shook you more than you thought it would. Part of your contract was that you’d be exclusive. For safety purposes, you’d have no sexual partners outside of each other throughout the duration. It was one of his hard lines.

One you could easily keep. Was it so hard for him?

He even had the gall to look angry, eyes darkening perceptibly even in the distance as he held up his phone briefly.

A second later, you received a message on yours.

Meet me in the bathroom. Five minutes.

Surely, he wasn’t serious.

Your companions were still talking away, congratulating each other on their mastery of the universe, as you quickly typed your response.

Wife or girlfriend?

Taking a sip of your water, you smiled impressively to the older man naming dropping who he was playing golf with over the weekend. Taking great care not to turn back toward John, whose daggers you could feel as sharply as though they were lodged in your skin.

Sister. Fucking the father or the son? Or both?

You looked up at the dynamic duo and stifled the urge not to vomit a bit in your mouth.

Ick, no. Clients.

There was a long pause before he responded, but you still didn’t look back at him. His presence was too much for the room. His hold on you too strong for polite company. The vibration of the next message jolted you like a jump scare.

I gave you an order.

The blood drained from your face. Your mouth went dry. Your panties, on the other hand, seemed to catch both like a grounding rod of sensation. Hot and slick.

Fine. But don’t be nice, you typed, before adding. Please.

You did look up then, just in time to see John nod once before excusing himself and disappearing down a long hallway.

“I’m getting the feeling that I’m being dicked around here, gentlemen. I’m going to take a minute in the ladies’ room. When I come back, if you don’t have a number ready that I can work with, I’m going to walk out that door and instruct my assistant to stop taking your calls.”

Not that she could anyway. You were still working on that particular aspect of her job description.

But that, along with any other concerns, disappeared below the surface when you opened the door to the single restroom in the back of the restaurant.

“Did you really just say ‘fine’ to me, like a whiney little brat? ‘Don’t be nice’? Hope you know what you’re asking for, sweetheart.” He growled from the corner behind the door, just before he pounced on you like a panther in the dark. Eyes flashing with a sort of calm, primal hunger. The kind that waits, as long as it takes, despite the sweet smell of fear in its prey. Despite the promise of how good it will taste.

You stumbled back out of instinct, only to hit the hard wall behind you. Trapped.

“Yes, sir,” you stuttered. Suddenly not really sure at all.

Outside of your sessions, text messages had been an open space. Where you were free to object to somethings and discuss others. Negotiate times and dates. But as his hand spun you around gruffly and gripped your hip from behind, fingers just above your pubic bone while his thumb massaged deep circles where your ass met your spine, you realized you’d miscalculated somewhere.

You'd never thought of yourself as manageable. Moveable. You took up space. You were a lot to handle. No one ever called you “cute” or commented on how nicely you cowed and begged over their knee. Not until him.

Not until you watched from the mirror above the cold, stainless steel sink as his other massive paw cupped your jaw. This man made you feel like a ragdoll. A toy. A mouse trapped in the jaws of that big dark jungle cat.

"Just for me, aren't you?” He raked teeth and stubble along your cheek.

You were boneless then, even more pliable under this sudden mean streak. The hand at your jaw trailed lower, skipping past your throat and neck, and your head rolled backwards against his chest without its support.

It paused to slip under the fabric of your top and bra, to cup your breast and pull it free. There was a primal hitch of breath in his teeth as he admired the way he could cover it all. A stiff, darkened peak notched between his knuckles as he gave it a painful squeeze.

“Use your fucking words. I thought we’d been through all this.” He didn’t sound like himself. Patience had gone out the window somewhere and you scrambled to right yourself.

To get him back.

“Yes, sir. All for you, sir.” You met his eyes in the mirror in the way he trained you. Wanting to be good. “I’m sorry, I just—"

Another squeeze, tighter and concentrated on the bud of your nipple. This time, the hiss was yours as the sensation rippled straight to your sex.

He was big enough to swallow the moon. Eclipse the sun. Envelope you into darkness. There was nothing but the stars bursting behind your eyelids as his other palm slunk lower from your hips to the hem of your skirt.

As stealthily as an avalanche of rocks and sand. Abrading and disrupting everything in its path until it settled back up to the base of you.

"Please,” you whispered, whimpered, on some foreign tongue that felt too big, too thick, to be yours.

Because he was in your mouth. Lips against yours, tongue pummeling inside. No affectionate peck, but an assault that promised to leave you maimed. A kiss you’d never get used to. One that would only consume you. His solid body against yours from behind as he bent over you and arched you into him.

The grip you had on the sink felt strong enough to leave marks. Dents. Tiny little divots like bird prints in the snow.

"Open up, brat. If you ever hope to fit the real thing, you still need more practice."

He found you wet, a small accommodation as you muttered a silent thanks to your nature. Your brain needed him, and your body did its best to oblige.

"I want it. Please, I’m ready." He’d dangled what you desired most in front of you like carrot. You’d get down on your knees and beg if you could only escape his hold.

"Maybe next time. After you show me how good you can be."

His long, thick fingers disappeared three at a time, to the gnarled and swollen knuckles before your eyes in the mirror. Knickers notched to the side and your skirt up around your waist.

The cry that slipped from your lips would’ve been heard across the restaurant if hadn’t had the clarity of mind to bite your tongue. The satisfied huff from his could conjure magic. Gods and monsters. Things best left dormant.

He liked it like this, you could tell. Where you both could see in the stark, fluorescent reflection. The dark hair of his hand reemerging from your depths silky and dripping with slick.

The glass was like a barrier, a window or a picture frame that kept you hanging just on the outskirts of real and make believe, as he circled those same fingers again and curled them back inside, tormenting your most vulnerable weakness.

While his other still worried and bullied your poor nipple. He stretched the offering of your flesh up to his mouth, biting and sucking until you bucked and writhed along his hand for more, more. Just a little bit more.

He felt on top of the world. And you were his puppet on a string. Brought to life.

But in your mindless dash to reach the end of his rope, to plummet off the side into the wind, your backside hit against his rigid length. Once again reminded of what you’d been denied. What you were fighting for.

You leaned into it, ignoring your own pleasure to steal a chance at his.

But he spun you around so fast, his fingers leaving you cold and empty, that you teetered precariously before he could lean you back against the sink.

“Spoiled little bitch, always whining and going on. Haven’t I been nice to you?” His tone lightened, to the point of…regret? “I’ll indulge you, then. But will you like what you get?”

"Yes, please, sir!” You weren’t going to waste the kindness as you settled down in front of him.

The tile floor of the bathroom cold and hard on your bare knees.

“The only way you’re coming today is on my old boot,” he slipped his leg between yours, helpfully, giving you something to sit on and a needed friction along your unsatisfied folds, “while you fuck me with your pretty little face.”

Sir thought you were pretty, was the only message your horrifyingly needy Sub brain could hear. You weren’t too deep in subspace yet, but if you weren’t careful, you’d need to be carried from the restaurant in his big, strong—

He interrupted your warring brains with the tip of his cock against your cheek and a warm, heavy hand on the back your head. Not even enough pressure to guide you. More of an anchor, as it tipped you back just enough to find his eyes.

Signal fires, burning bright.

Emboldened, you opened your mouth as you would for your inspection, flattening your tongue and waiting for him to test you. Eager to please.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’ve got the big brass now, don’t you, brat? So, show me,” he taunted, the flesh bobbing heavily just out of your reach.

Tentatively, you moved forward, clutching the sides of his thighs for balance and licking out at the rosy meat in front of you. You’d never expected to see it for the first time in the dingy bathroom of an overpriced downtown restaurant, but it was indeed massive.

He wasn’t being overly boastful in that you’d have trouble taking it unprepped. As it was, your mouth could only work him in halfway, as you hollowed your cheeks and took him just to the point of gagging.

You could still breathe through your nose, and you weren’t choking yet. You were doing okay, but that didn’t stop him from using that hand on your head to pull you back when your throat started to fight him.

“Easy, now,” a softening at the corners of his eye lids, as your own teared up at the intrusion.

Somehow, you fell into a clumsy rhythm where he didn’t take any control and you focused on the enjoyment of him. The smooth, salty skin of his dick along your tongue. The rough loops of his shoelaces against your bare cunt.

And before you knew it, you were so close to coming that he pulled his foot away just in time for his cock to go rigid against your tongue.

“Ah fuck, that’s good, sweetheart,” he muttered an oath to the ceiling.

You blinked your betrayal through dazed eyes and shuttered around nothing while he took his release all over your face. By the time he milked the last drops along your chin, he paused only a second before wetting a paper towel in the sink to clean you up.

He tenderly wiped away the pearly ropes of his spend first, then the eye makeup that had smudged along your cheeks.

You didn’t look that bad, you thought, as you focused on yourself in the mirror and quickly put your tits away. You were a bit wrinkled, and your nose was leaking snot like a puffy faucet, but no worse for wear.

“Tell those wankers you had an allergic reaction or something. You’ll be fine,” he assured you as he found your lip gloss in your purse and moved to help you apply it.

You let him, with a reassuring smile of your own, before taking his hand along with the gloss.

“You all right?” you asked, needing to check on him. You’d done something new. Potentially crossed a line. It mattered to you that he’d enjoyed it.

“Bloody grand,” he grinned in a way that made you believe him. Left no shadow of a doubt. “Now get out there and give them hell.” He gave you one last once over before slapping your ass and sending you out ahead of him.

“Yes, sir.”

You left the restaurant on a high like you’d never felt before. Your cunt ached, inside and out, and it hurt to swallow, but you’d closed the deal. With your clients, and with John, too, in some way.

And you swore you heard him chuckle as you texted him to set up your next session on your way out the door. He’d left you hanging without an orgasm.

Not nice at all.

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