#he will stutter in the presence of cleavage

[creganstahk]

aemond according fandom is some boss daddy alpha dom suave n sexy type when really he’s basically

[dried-mushroom]

Reunited

Gwayne Hightower x fem! niece! reader

Warnings: team green (Guys I'm a team black girly but the Hightowers are just too fine), uncle-niece incest, getting caught, and PIV sex.

Note: I know in the show Gwayne is meant to be the older brother but for the plot of this, he'll be the younger brother of Alicent (Like he is in the books)

Summary: You were the 2nd eldest child of Alicent Hightower and Viserys Targaryen, and you and your uncle, Gwanye, always had a connection much like your step-sister and her uncle have. After being sent away from the Red Keep to Oldtown after being caught with you in a compromising situation years ago, Gwayne returns, and you both are finally reunited, and he asks for your hand.

You adored Gwayne, ever since your mother had introduced you to him when you were near the age of ten and five and he was ten and seven. Gwayne quite liked you, and you him. You both spent a concerning amount of time together, he had taught you how to ride a horse and wield a sword and in return, you'd embroider the Hightower sigil into his tunics and read to him late at night, until the early morning, where you'd most likely fell asleep next to him, his gentle hold on you more akin to a lover than an uncle. You remember the day that he was made to leave Kings Landing, a gloomy day at that and you partially blamed yourself, because if you weren't caught with him, in such a situation, he would still be here.

"Perhaps if you win your tourney tomorrow I will let you taint my virtue, uncle."

You had approached him in the training yard, watching him joust his spire, winning effortlessly, smirking at you the whole time. You rolled your eyes in jest as he seemed amused by your presence, he sauntered over to you,

"Good morrow my sweet niece, come to see me practice?"

"Is it really practice if you're just winning, Uncle Mhm?"

You smiled back him, hand reaching up, stroking his bicep through the material of his thin shirt, making his reaction turn from more of a playful gaze to a lustful stare. Gwayne knew you wanted him and gods forbid, he wanted you as desperately. You both knew it was wrong, the late-night visits, the lingering touches, the blatant flirting but you both couldn't resist the temptation. He disregarded his sword, opting to stroke your soft hair instead, staring down at you.

"Well, my princess, how else would I win the tourney then?"

Your eyes lit up and you had an idea, it was completely immoral and wrong but god you wanted him so badly it hurt, you craved to be more than uncle and niece.

"Well, Kepus, perhaps I have a motivator for you to win tomorrow."

Gwayne saw the glint in your eye and he couldn't help but glance down at your cleavage whilst you spoke, making him hard in his breeches when you spoke the next words he almost finished right there and then.

"Perhaps if you win your tourney tomorrow I will let you taint my virtue, uncle."

He smirked at your boldness and leant down to your ear,

"M'lady I sure hope you know what you're implying and what you're getting yourself into."

You smirked back at him, moving your hand to his chest, feeling the warmth beneath your hand.

"Of course, I know what I'm implying and I want you, Uncle. Good luck for tomorrow."

You walked away from him, leaving him breathless, a knowing smile on your face because you knew he was the best knight in Kings Landing, of course, he was going to win.

Moans and grunts were heard throughout Gwayne's chambers, the echo of his hips hitting against your pelvis was so loud, that you weren't surprised you both were caught. Gwayne tucked his head into the crook of your neck, nipping softly at the tender skin while his calloused hands palmed at your plush thighs and your hands raked at his back, your legs resting on Gwayne's shoulders, making his cock bump your cervix with every thrust. You knew he was close, the stuttering of his hips, how tense his muscles were and his hands gripped you like a vice. You began to play with his copper hair, entangling your hand in his soft hair and tugging softly, making him groan against your skin. His lips reached your chest, a hand leaving your thighs to grope at your breasts, his hand playing with your nipple while his mouth encircled the other, nipping softly at your sensitive skin, making you whimper while his hips still rutted into yours, much like an animal in heat.

"Fuck, my sweet niece, you feel like fucking heaven. Gods I won't last long, can I spill in you please?"

"Yes, please Kepus don't stop."

Gwayne loved hearing your mother tongue, you knew high valyrian better than all your siblings and even though he couldn't understand the language it always made him hot under the collar hearing you speak, especially when you read of the Targaryen histories to him late at night, your soft smooth voice was always a comfort to him.

It took only a few more thrusts and Gwyane's hands on your body for you to cum on his cock, squeezing, milking him for all he was worth. Gwyane fell slack against you, body twitching in pleasure as he emptied himself in you. Before you both could utter a word, your mother and grandfather had burst into the door, mouths agape at the scene in front of them, the Queen's own brother fucking his niece, her own daughter on his table in his chambers. You couldn't even defend yourself or Gwayne before Otto grabbed Gwayne by his hair and dragged him out of his chambers, his breeches loose on his hips, as Otto began to lecture him,

"Do you know what you've done? You've just sullied your future Queen. How are we going to marry her to her brother now, any suggestions my son?"

You're face burned as you felt the scornful stare from your own mother, who could see how debauched you looked, dress ripped and bunched up around your thighs, hair messy and a fine sheet of sweat covered you, you just silently prayed to the seven that she could not see Gwayne's spent dripping out of you. You swallowed cautiously and began to speak,

"Mother, I can explain-"

"There is nothing to explain. This didn't happen...I will see to it that the maesters bring moon tea to your chambers. As for my brother, my father and I shall discuss what will happen."

"Please Mother, don't blame Gwayne, it was I who pursued him."

Your mother didn't care to listen to your pleas and that was the last time you saw Gwayne. Not even a morrow later Otto had sent off his son, to Oldtown, not even letting you bid him farewell to the man you secretly wished to marry. You had cried for days on end, opting to stay in your chambers rather than face your family who judged you for your inappropriate behaviour with your uncle (You were a bit taken back considering Rhaenyra faced no consequences for the same acts with Daemon) resulting in you being subjected to cruel rumours, had you gone mad? Were you ill?

It took weeks until you could stand to see the familiar faces of your siblings, mother, father and grandfather without feeling entrapped by shame. They chose to forgive you for your...misguided transgressions (Although you disagreed, as you still longed for Gwayne's heart and yet him being in Oldtown, he longed for yours) and kindly decided to wed Aegon to Helaena instead of you, which were most grateful for, although you did feel sorry for your sweet sister having to deal with a drunken and whoring husband.

It was no longer than three weeks since your father's passing, Aegon's ascension to the throne, Jaehaerys death and funeral, years after your last interaction with Gwayne and the realm was in pure chaos, divided on who should sit the iron throne, your brother or your step-sister? You weren't directly involved in Aegon's actions, merely just there, observing how the cracks were beginning to fester between Aegon, Aemond and your mother. You tried burying your feelings towards Gwayne, knowing there was little to no chance of him returning nonetheless coming back into your arms.

It was a chill morning when you awoke, hearing the commotion from the servants outside. You groan, annoyed about how loud the girls were being outside your door, You looked at them confused when you opened the door, startling them.

"What is this commotion for?"

"Sorry Princess, it's just that Criston Cole is leaving today for the Riverlands and....Gwayne Hightower and his men from Oldtown will be attending with him. Today."

You thought you truly had gone mad when you heard those words come from the servant girl's mouth and without saying anything you shut the door in their faces. You shakily exhaled as anxiety ate at you. You couldn't resist the temptation of seeing Gwayne once more, the feelings that once encompassed you rose to the surface once again. You didn't wish to wait for your handmaidens and made yourself presentable, opting for a dark green dress, low-cut but not low enough to question virtues, and left your chambers.

You left the Red Keep, and entered the courtyard, spotting Criston Cole near his steed, you personally disliked the knight, knowing of his past and how he chose to spend their night with your mother instead of protecting the Queen and her now dead child, you didn't let Alicent know that you knew of her actions that night, preferring to keep it to yourself in case you ever needed leverage. You sighed before walking up to the man,

"Ser Cole, I heard of Gwayne Hightower's return, may I ask of his whereabouts?"

He huffed, seemingly annoyed at the mention of the other knight's name, alas you ignored it and gave him a questioning look. Despite his carelessness, Cole wasn't stupid and knew of your shared history with the older Hightower.

"Ser Gwayne should be at the stables m'lady, although we are set to leave soo-"

Cutting the knight off with a curt, 'Thank you' and you set off to walk to the stables, a good five-minute walk from the courtyard, allowing you to try to calm your nerves before seeing the man who stole your heart all those years ago. You approached the stables, and your breath hitched when you saw Gwayne, alone, tending to his horse, you walked closer before uttering,

"Uncle"

Gwayne's eyes lit up in surprise when he turned and saw you, how beautiful you had grown in the few years spent apart. He sent his house off with the stable boy before focussing his attention on you. He truly had missed you, refusing to be a suitor to any maidens in Oldtown, preferring to wait until he could ask for your hand.

"My sweet niece, oh how the years have made you even more beautiful."

Your mouth was agape when he turned and you saw how handsome he had gotten with age, mid-length copper hair framing his chiselled face, his vest was unbuttoned so you could see how toned he had gotten in Oldtown, tufts of reddish-brown hair littering his pale chest. He chuckled softly, noticing your staring, breaking you out of your stupor,

"Oh, Kepus, I'm so sorry about what happened, It is my fault you were made to lea-"

Gwayne walked towards you, softly stroking your hair with a calloused hand, with a small smile on his face, making you feel like a young girl again.

"My princess, It was my fault just as much as yours and it was years ago, the past no longer matters, although I must say my feelings towards you have not changed no matter the time spent apart."

You felt him grab your waist, pulling you closer, and whispering in your ear,

"Every time I stroked my cock, it was to the thought of you. Gods how I've missed you y/n."

You knew it was wrong but he was so tempting, a forbidden fruit. His touch lingered, his blue eyes staring adoringly into yours.

"Please uncle, how I have missed you so dearly, please tell me you're not leaving again after the Riverlands."

"Oh my sweet girl, I don't plan on it and I don't know if my sister ever told you but before I was made to leave, I asked her for your hand, I offered to take you to Dragonstone and make you my wife, after Targaryen tradition, like you once told me of. Alas, Alicent did not share the same sentiment."

Your eyes widened, he had wanted to wed you? Why wouldn't your mother tell you this? it would have spared you from your endless weeping for days after his departure and spared you from the ruthless rumours from court. You cupped the side of Gwayne's face, soft fingers, stroking his cheek gently, he leaned into your touch.

"Alicent did not mention it at all, all I was told was that you were made to leave after you had already left. Although dare I be so forward and ask, even after all these years, would you still want to wed me? I am a woman grown now and do not need my mother's permission and trust me when I utter these words, I have wanted to marry you since the age of ten and five and I still do."

Gwayne smiled against your hand and pulled you even closer, feeling the warmth of his bare chest against your own, his stubble tickling your face,

"Of course, I still do, my sweet y/n. I give you my word after that Cole's march to the Riverlands and we succeed, I will come back and we may not have Dragonstone but I will wed you, I swear on my life."

You didn't wait for him to continue before pressing your soft lips against his, he eagerly cupped the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as his tongue poked at your lips, waiting for your permission, which you gave instantly, his tongue searching your mouth, dancing with your own. You suddenly felt his hardness press against your abdomen, throbbing against the material of his breeches. You snaked a hand down his chest to palm at the tightened fabric, making him groan into your mouth. He broke the kiss, admiring how swollen your lips looked under his ministrations.

"M'lady, please I need to take you once again. I have felt no other touch besides my own after you."

"But don't you have to leave soon? Cole sai-"

"Fuck Cole, he can wait, I need you y/n."

Your mouth was agape once again, you were surprised he had not taken a single lover after you, considering how attractive he really was. Alas, you couldn't resist Gwaynes's pleas and unlaced his breeches, pulling his erection, engorged and already leaking precum at your very touch. Gwayne pinned you against the wall of the stable between his hips and the wood, rutting his erection against your soft stomach, chasing any friction. He peppered kisses to your neck, nipping the skin, making you whine pathetically. He lifted your leg to hook it around his waist, pressing his cock against your pussy, which much to his delight, you weren't wearing any underclothes. Gwayne ran his cock through your folds, the tip bumping your clit with every thrust, making you moan and claw at his back.

Gwayne leant his forehead against yours when he entered you, waiting until you were comfortable before beginning to rut into you, setting a brutal pace, making your hands grip his shoulders and both finally got to enjoy each other once again. His hands gripped your hips to pull himself closer and you smiled against his chest knowing that soon you'd be wed to Gwayne, not having to worry about Alicent or even your own brother trying to force you into a marriage with some drunken lord. His hair fell into your face, seeing if he would enjoy it as much as he did when he was younger. You snaked your hand into his hair and pulled lightly, making him grunt against you,

"Fuck, if you keep doing that I'm not going to last."

As a tiny form of revenge, Gwayne moved a hand to rub little circles on your clit, making you whine, chasing your orgasm. As his pace increased, faster and deeper, his hand continued until he felt you clasp your thighs together, cumming on his cock, squeezing him deliciously. He lewdly brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your wetness, groaning at your sweet taste, ensuring he'd definitely be trying you himself soon enough. You moaned into his ear,

"Please Kepus, Cum for me, I need you to fill me up, I wish to carry your child."

The image of you swollen with his child tipped him over the edge, his body tense as he finished in you, hips stuttering against yours, his forehead pressed against yours as he panted, coming down from his high. You stroked his back, your nerves coming back knowing he would have to leave you soon again. He slowly pulled out of you, making you feel empty without him. He helped you stand up properly and he noticed your frown and tipped your chin towards him with two fingers,

"What's wrong my sweet princess?"

"Promise me you will come back to me. I don't want you to leave again Gwayne."

He smiled down at you, brought you into an embrace and whispered into your hair,

"My love, I will never leave you, and you know what? Fuck Cole, he has enough men for the march to the Riverlands and Harrenhal, he doesn't need me there, surely he can't be that stupid he can't lead a small army."

You laughed, an attractive sound, against his chest.

"You'd be surprised Uncle, but thank you for staying, I have truly missed you."

"My love, I wouldn't leave you again for the world, plus that man is fucking insufferable....and I would much prefer to taste you again."

The end

[bussyslayer333]

Candy

summary: bob falls for a beautiful barista over the course of a few encounters.

pairing: robert floyd x hotbarista!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, jake being an asshat, bob having some self doubt but he gets over it, smutty smut smut at the end, sort of mentions of an age gap??

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first time Bob saw you was a Monday morning, he was meeting Phoenix and Rooster on his day off for coffee at a new place in town. It was a cute cafe, full of pastels and pastries and a little bell that jingled when he stepped in. The interior was larger than what he had expected, there were many booths, and a few tables by the front window. Phoenix and Rooster had managed to snag a cosy booth towards the corner of the room. He approached them with a smile on his face, happy to see his friends.

“Hey guys-”

“Bob, move!” Phoenix seethes slightly.

“Nice to see you too.” Bob rolls his eyes, sliding into the booth next to Bradley.

Bradley offers Bob an explanation, “There’s a super hot barista making our drinks right now.”

“Oh, fair enough.” Bob smiles, craning his neck around and trying to see who his friends were talking about.

Phoenix pipes up, “and when he says hot, we’re talking a total smoke show, like i’m pretty sure Rooster is still sporting a semi from when she asked if he wanted cream or not.”

“I am not!” Bradley whines, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Bob was about to put his two cents on the situation, when suddenly his two friends were silenced from their bickering by a presence he felt over his shoulder.

“One double espresso and one peppermint latte?”

Phoenix beats Bradley for speaking first and Bob recognises her best flirtiest smile.

“Yeah, that’s us.” She says coolly.

“How could I forget?” The voice behind him teases as she places the drinks down, Bob watches Bradley’s cheeks flush again.

Finally, Bob turns to look at the alluring voice, only he hasn’t given you enough time to pull back from placing the drinks down and he finds his face hitting your cleavage. You make a shocked noise, and pull back giggling.

“That’s one way to make me take your order.”

Bob wished the earth would swallow him whole in that moment.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Bob pushes the words out of his mouth frantically.

Phoenix was never wrong, you were totally hot, but not just that, Bob thought. You were beautiful, and clearly funny, probably clever as well, kind (and he wouldn’t have ever said it but you had a great rack).

Phoenix butts in before Bob can ramble more apologies, “He’ll have a cappuccino.”

Bob watches you scribble down his order, in a little notepad you pulled from a pocket in the front of your pink half apron, tied neatly around your waist.

“Perfect.”

You smile down at him, and saunter off. Presumably, to make his drink. He wonders how you don’t notice the three pairs of eyes that watch as you walk away. You’re wearing tight black jeans and a tight cream long sleeve top, the pink apron creating a sweet contrast in your outfit. Once you’re out of earshot, Bradley and Nat finally allow themselves to cackle at Bob’s misfortune.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Bradley snorts.

Nat chokes slightly on her espresso before speaking up as well, “Sorry, I just remembered the panicked look on your face again.”

Bob groans, placing his head into his hands. He knew more often than not that girls like you didn’t go for guys like him, but now he had definitely fucked it. He watches as you make his drink, giggling with one of your coworkers as you work the machines. He imagines you’re telling him about the dork who just accidentally motorboated you trying to stutter out a one word order and groans again.

Bradley takes sympathy on Bob’s groaning and stifles his chuckles, “It’s not that bad! At least you got boobs in your face!”

Bob watches as Nat flicks Bradley in the head, mumbling something about him being a caveman.

“One cappuccino for the cute glasses guy who is now well acquainted with my boobs?” He can hear you giggle as you place the coffee down in front of him.

“That’s me.” Bob says with a hint of awkwardness, pointing his thumbs at himself. Was that an embarrassing thing to do? Probably. But you’re laughing and all Bob can think about his how much he wants to see you do it again.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You ask with a smile on your face.

“We’re good, thank you.” Bradley gets there before Nat this time and pumps his fist under the table.

“I’ll be over here if you need me.” You reply and wander off again, hips swaying.

Bob is reminded of a saying he hears Jake using far too often to girls in the Hard Deck, it usually makes him mildly nauseous but now seems fitting. He does hate to see you go but love to watch you leave.

Nat pipes up again but this time in complaint, “How do you do it, Floyd?”

Bob cocks his head to the side, silently asking her to elaborate.

“She called you ‘cute glasses guy’, you’re so in there.”

Bob’s eyebrows raise so high he’s pretty sure they’re at his hairline. Did you actually call him cute?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second time Bob has the pleasure of seeing you, he’s collecting caffeine for the team with Jake during a break after a particularly early start on the Friday of that same week. He’d been thinking about you for the past few days non stop, so when Phoenix suggested a coffee run, he knew exactly where to go.

What he should have bet on, was Jake also deciding you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drawled out.

Bob knew Jake had spotted you. Lo and behold, you were behind the counter, bent over trying to reach one of the syrup pumps. Same tight black jeans hugging your hips, this time paired with an old band t-shirt. You spin on your heel after hearing Jake’s exclamation, and start to recite your company’s spiel when a spark of recognition flashes across your face.

“Cute glasses guy!” You say almost excitedly.

Bob feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he watches Jake spin around and try and assess the area to see if there were any other dudes wearing glasses in the vicinity. There weren’t.

“Hi.” Bob smiles bashfully.

Jake, who can seemingly never keep his mouth shut decided to pipe up, “I’m feeling a little left out here Bobby, do you two know each other?”

Jake knew damn well how you knew each other, Nat had told everyone as soon as they got back to work. You watched as Bob stumbled over the beginning of a sentence, unsure of how to explain what had happened. You save him from himself and speak up,

“He gave me a very memorable shift on Monday.” You wink at Bob as you say it.

You figured that if this guy was close to Bob, then his other friends had already told him what had happened and he was just trying to rile Bob up.

“It would be my pleasure to give you a memorable shift darlin’.”

Bob rolls his eyes at Jake’s simpering drawl, texan accent heavy on his tongue. Luckily for Bob, you’re just as unimpressed. Usually you like your men a little more… reserved.

“I’m sure it would. What can I get for you today boys?” You ask, directed more towards Bob now.

He whips his phone out and starts reciting the the orders of the team, it’s a tad lengthy but watching you whisper all of his words to yourself again as you use a perfectly manicured hand to tap the drinks into the till makes it worth all the while.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you give him the total, “Will that be with military discount as well?” You gesture towards the two men in uniform. They both nod and you tap in an extra code, bringing the total down significantly.

“I didn’t realise you were military?” You question as you turn around to start making the drinks in the lengthy order, calling another girl out from the back to man the till.

“Naval aviators, sweetheart.” Jake supplies for you. “We’ll I’m a pilot, Bob’s a backseater.”

Bob can’t help but feel like Jake is trying to undermine him slightly. You don’t pick up on it.

“Backseater?” You ask your question directly towards Bob this time.

Bob clears his throat, “Uh yeah, basically I’m a Weapons System Officer, I sit in the back of the plane and man weapons and other stuff.” He didn’t want to bore you.

You smile, “Sounds important, is he your pilot?”You gesture towards Jake.

“No, the woman I was here with on Monday is.”

Your face lights up in recognition, “Oh yeah she was gorgeous! And the guy with the moustache?”

“Yeah he’s a pilot too.” Bob smiles, watching a scowl etch its way onto Jake’s face at the mention of Rooster. He makes a mental note to tell Phoenix what you had said about her.

You’re placing the final drinks down in their holders when Jake finally pipes up again, “You really are beautiful sweetheart.”

His eyes rake all over you, making Bob seethe. You don’t notice the anger radiating off Bob, but flush slightly under the compliment.

“Thanks, flyboy.”

Bob is cursing his lack of confidence, wishing he was the one being labelled with a nickname. He knew you were beautiful, he’d known way before Jake! He looks back up in time for you to hand him a bag with half the drinks inside, the other bag going to Jake.

“It was nice seeing you again Bob.” You preen at him, and add quickly on, “and meeting you, Jake!”

“Anytime, beautiful.” Jake thinks he’s got this one in the bag as he turns around to leave, he’s sure your number is gonna be scrawled on his cup when he opens the bag.

Bob doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes when your hear the pet name, slyly winking at him once you realise he saw.

Once they’re all back on base handing out the coffees, Jake fully emptied out both the bags of the napkins. He makes a little “aha” noise as he finds what he’s looking for. A napkin with sharpie scrawled over it. His grin is quickly squashed as he throws the napkin in Bob’s direction. It lands on Phoenix’s lap and she reads what the sharpie note says.

cute glasses guy/bob

call me :)

***-***-***

Your name is signed with a little heart next to it at the bottom and Bob can’t help but break out into a wide smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The night before Bob next sees you was the Friday of the next week and you had been texting non stop since you had given him your number. You had even followed each other on instagram. Bob had spent the night scrolling through your posts with Phoenix, careful not to like any, so she had been holding the phone.

Every so often, she would stop and zoom in on one. Like the one of you at your most recent birthday, you were a good few years younger than him, he noted your star sign as well. The next few Phoenix stopped and zoomed in on had Bob wishing for an ice cold shower. The first was a few slides of you on vacation with your friends. A few standard group photos (you stood out from them by a mile), and one particularly gorgeous photo of you stood on the terrace of your hotel room; slightly sun kissed wearing a flimsy summer dress and your hair flipped to one side. The sun was setting in the background and Bob was pretty sure he was having some type of angina, but the last picture on the slide is what had him truly breathless. You were on the beach with your hair tied up messily, wearing a pathetic excuse for a bikini, your back was facing the camera but you were looking back at it squinting slightly over your shoulder. Bob didn’t want to seem too creepy, but Nat had thrown all caution to the wind. Immediately zooming in on your ass.

“Damn.” She muttered.

Bob discreetly tried to move the pillow from behind him over his lap. Nat, the ever perceptible noticed immediately and cackled.

“Same.” She patted him on the shoulder.

“Maybe we should stop stalking for the night.” Bob started.

Nat whined like a child being denied candy, “Cmonnnn just one more? Then I’ll never bother you again.”

Bob rolled his eyes and let her continue when she gasped far too theatrically.

“She just posted on her story!”

“Don’t click it-”

He had been far too slow in stopping his nimbled fingered friend.

“Holy shit.”

It was a mirror selfie, your room was lit up only by a warm lamp seen in the corner of the picture. You were posed on your knees wearing only a black high waisted body suit.

“Dude, she’s totally posting thirst traps for you!” Nat squealed.

Bob rolled his eyes, sure it was crazy that you posted something like that just when he was on your account, but how on earth would you know that he would be the first one to see it? There were a number of guys in your comments who you could be trying to impress. Or you could just be posting a photo that you liked.

What Bob and Nat didn’t know, was that you were sat in your room with your best friend Marley. You had been showing her photos from Bob’s instagram account when you received a notification that he had liked your post. It was from a little over a month ago and was slides full of your vacation photos. Marley shrieked.

“Oh my God, he was so stalking you!”

You giggle in realisation, “I hope he comments.”

Marley rolls her eyes, “Sure, Mr ‘I post pictures of cute dogs I see in the street’ is gonna comment on your blatant ass pics.”

You shove her playfully, “You said you liked those pics!”

She smiles, “Of course I do, and so does he clearly. I just don’t know if he’s brave enough to tell you so.”

You cock your head to the side, which eggs her on.

“You should post something, make him comment.”

That’s how you found yourself in the skimpiest piece of clothing you own, being positioned by your friend. Once you hit post, you felt a wave of nausea come over you. Marley noticed as the ever attentive friend she was and took your phone from you. She refreshed it a few times and screamed.

“He’s already viewed it!”

“WHAT?” You shriek far too loudly considering you had downstairs neighbours.

You grab your phone out of her hands to see for yourself. He was there in the viewers, along with your usual people. Then you hear the ping to notify someone has sent you a dm.

“Open it!” Marley says with the most urgency you’ve ever heard.

It’s from Bob.

_rfloyd93

replied to your story

damn 😍

Back in the barracks, Bob is trying to wrestle his phone from Natasha.

“DAMN?! I would never say that! You made me sound like Jake!”

They stop their huffing and puffing so Phoenix can explain. “And when has it ever not worked for him?”

Bob rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, he knows she’s right.

“Look she’s typing!”

Phoenix shoves his phone back into his hands.

you

like what you see?

Bob shows the message to Phoenix,

“What do i say?!”

Phoenix is much more nonchalant about the situation, she understands now that you definitely like Bob. She’s never seen someone so taken by her shy backseater.

“Just say the truth.” Nat shrugs

Bob types and untypes for a second before sending his message.

_rfloyd93

i’d like it more in person

You shriek once again, showing your phone to Marley who shrieks as well. You can hear your downstairs neighbour Mrs Bellman smacking her broom against the ceiling in hopes that you’ll shut up.

you

my shift ends at 6 tomorrow?

_rfloyd93

i’ll be there

You like his message and flop back on your bed with a dreamy sigh.

Marley laughs, “girl, you have got it bad.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The third time Bob sees you, is the next day when you’ve finished your shift. He’s waiting for you sat in one of the booths near the front, fiddling with his phone. Your coworker Julian points him out to you.

“Boobs guy is sat over there, babe.”

You giggle at him, untying your apron and folding it to put in your tote bag.

“I know, I’m meeting him.”

Julian gasps loudly and you shush him, pushing your finger to his lips. You slowly, pull your finger away and let him speak in a hushed tone.

“Oh my Goddddddd! Tell me everything on Monday please!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You know I will.”

With that you kiss his cheek and wander over to Bob.

“Hey.” You say slightly breathlessly.

He smiles up at you, “Hey.”

He takes in your appearance, signature tight black jeans and he recognises the black body suit, now he knows what it looks like underneath your jeans he flushes slightly. You look down at yourself slightly, placing a hand on your cocked hip.

“Like what you see?” You repeat your words from last night.

Bob flushes further, memories of what he had done after Nat had left last night leaving his cheeks hot to touch.

“You look gorgeous.” He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes.

You cup his cheeks with a hand and smile, “Thanks, Baby. Not too bad yourself.”

Bob feels his jeans tighten and wills himself to think of Grandma Floyd. He finally gets himself to speak, “I was thinking we could go for a walk, maybe get some drinks?”

You pull him up from his seat and link your arm through his, “Sounds perfect.”

Bob knew taking you to the Hard Deck was a risk, but it wasn’t a far walk from the cafe and the service was impeccable.

Pushing through the door he made eye contact with Phoenix first, she gave him a little thumbs. He was already feeling good but that gave him an extra boost of confidence.

During the 10 minute walk to the Hard Deck, you had talked about everything and nothing. Bob found out that your favourite colour was green, you had a pet dog back home called Frank and you had just finished college with a degree in business.

“Not to sound rude, but with a degree in business why do you work in a coffee shop?”

You smile, not taking offense and appreciating his curiosity, “I’m saving up, I want to open a coffee shop of my own, My dad said he could give me money for a deposit but I’m quite close myself now.”

Bob looks at you, wanting you to continue.

“I’ve been saving up since I got my first job in high school.”

Bob notices your confident demeanour has slipped and you seem bashful.

“That’s really cool.” He smiles and you can tell he’s being truthful. “When I was in high school I was a total drama geek.”

His attempt to to make you laugh works and your confidence is back, “I can definitely imagine you as a little Romeo.”

By the time you reach the Hard Deck you’ve both swapped enough embarrassing high school stories for a life time. Now Bob just hopes he can get through the night.

You and Bob are sat at a somewhat secluded table towards the corner of the room near the jukebox. You’re sipping on a vodka cranberry whilst Bob has a stella in a bottle with a label that he’s playing with. Bob decides it’s time to rid himself of the large sweater he was wearing to combat the night time chill that came with early winter in San Diego. You’re trying not to visibly swoon as you watch his biceps strain under the tight black top he’s wearing. His hair flops slightly without its gel to hold it in place so now looks slightly mussed. You reach over the table to fix it, Bob gets an eyeful down your top, he can’t complain.

Once you pull back you’ve got a cheeky smile on your face, Bob quirks an eyebrow,

“Who knew Bobby was hiding these guns under those chunky sweaters?” You giggle somewhat coyly.

You love watching the pink flush rise from his neck to his ear tips so you tease him further.

“Any other surprises you want to warn me about?”

“No, ma’am.” Bob doesn’t catch your drift fully, but his southern twang makes all up for it.

You feel your thighs clench slightly at the name he drops. You decide to move the conversation forward, thinking it’s best for your underwear.

“So what brings us here?” You gesture to the large amounts of navy memorabilia that surround the walls and ceilings of the Hard Deck.

“Me and my friends come here a lot, very navy friendly.” Bob smiles.

“Are they here? Your friends?” You question.

“Yeah, around here somewhere. They always are.”

“Can I meet them?”

That’s not what Bob had expected you to ask, but there was no way in hell he was gonna miss out on rubbing this in Bagman’s face.

“Definitely.”

You recognise three of Bob’s friends immediately. They’re all stood or sat around the pool table, taking turns and sipping beers. You learn their names properly this time. Phoenix is the beautiful woman who is Bob’s pilot (and also his only competition), Rooster is his moustachioed friend and Hangman is the tall blonde who had tried it on you.

“It’s nice to see you guys again!” You say hugging Phoenix and Rooster with an arm.

Another man with a moustache stood next to them pipes up, “Sorry, have we met before? I’m Payback, but you can call me Reuben.”

His smile is sweet, and you reach out to shake his extended hand. Another slightly shorter man stood next to him speaks,

“I would remember that face if we had met,” He’s charming as well, but no Bob. “I’m Fanboy.”

Phoenix comes to your rescue and explains the situation before retreating back to Rooster. Another tall man stood next to Jake laughs, “Oh my God, you’re the hot barista that Bob motorboated!”

Bob tenses slightly from his position beside you, you’re not sure if it’s because of the remembrance of the embarrassing action or if it’s the fact that you now know that him and all his friends had been referring to you as “the hot barista”.

You giggle at the man who had exclaimed (you think his name is Coyote),

“That’s me.”

Bob can only breathe a sigh of relief at your constant collectedness of anything cringeworthy that came your way.

Phoenix and Rooster had been watching all the interactions from a bit further back.

“She’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” Bradley nudges Phoenix. “They really balance each other out.”

Phoenix finally sighs out, “If they don’t work out do you think I’d still have a shot?”

Bradley snorts until he realises his friend is being serious, “Hey, let’s not go praying on anybody’s downfall.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and walks off to get another beer. She cant help but smile as she catches you giggling at something Bob has said to Jake, you’re squeezing Bob’s bicep as you calm down and his arm is wrapped lowly around your waist. You really were perfect for each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next time you see Bob is a week later when he’s picking you up from your apartment for your first “proper date.”

Bob had insisted on taking you out to dinner (as the gentleman he is). You had texted him about what to wear and he had simply told you that you’d look good in anything (and nothing, but he was too afraid to say that part). It was sweet, but ultimately unhelpful, so you were frantically sending Marley photos of dresses you were thinking of wearing.

The first one was a tight minidress, it was red and didn’t leave much to the imagination.

marls <3

hot, maybe too slutty for a first date?

you

ur right, hang on

The second was a floral sundress, it had a wrap part around the cleavage.

marls <3

adorable, too casual for dinner tho

you

ugh

i have nothing to wear

marls <3

i’m sure he’d love that

you

shush

WAIT

i’ve got it

The last dress you try on is a black maxi dress, it’s tight but tasteful. With a low enough neckline to be teasing but not indecent.

You send the photo to Marley and await her response.

marls <3

💦💦😩😩🙇‍��️🙇‍♀️🤤🤤🤤

you

ur an idiot

this the one?

marls <3

u love me

and def

You spritz your makeup with setting spray and spray extra perfume on your pulse points. You then hook your hoops into your ears and check the time on your phone. 19:20. You had ten minutes before Bob said he would arrive, you check back through your texts to make sure you got the timing right. Not that you could forget, you’d been looking forward to seeing him again all week.

Before you knew it you had been daydreaming about Bob’s strong arms for the past five minutes, when your phone chimes.

bobby ❤️

i’m here

do u want me to come up?

you

dw!

i’ll be down in a sec

You pull on your wedges and make your way to your door, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing you clutch.

You make light conversation in the elevator with the teen girl who lives with her mother in the apartment across from you.

“You look beautiful, are you meeting someone?”

You smile bashfully at her, “Yeah he’s really sweet!”

You had given her the odd piece of boy advice when her mother had asked you to check in on her when she was working nights.

“Don’t tell on me if you see me coming back with him tonight.”

She giggles as if you’ve let her in on a big secret, and exits the elevator with you as it hits the ground floor. She peeks round to see who you’re meeting and whispers in your ear before she turns to go the vending machines.

“He’s hot!”

You chuckle at her, “I know right!”

Bob looks handsome as ever, he’s pushed his hair back and is wearing a tight black button up shirt with black slacks and smart shoes. You realise you look quite the matching couple.

As you reach him, both his hands come to rest on your hips, yours on his chest.

“Hey, handsome.”

That makes a smirk come to rest on Bob’s lips, your thighs squeeze together involuntarily at the action.

“You look fucking incredible.” He charms.

He takes your hand in his and holds you out to do a little twirl for him. As you spin around he sucks a deep breath in.

“How did I get so lucky?”

You peck him on the cheek, “I could ask myself the same thing.”

You love him like this, breezy. Like there’s nothing in the world that could weigh him down.

He helps you into the passenger seat of his jeep, before going around to sit in the drivers side.

“I’ve booked us a table at Fucina, I forgot to ask if Italian was okay with you?” Bob asks, nerves taking over him partly.

You rest your hand on his thigh to comfort him, “It’s perfect.”

As it turns out, it was more than perfect. The food was incredible, as well as the wine.

“Bob, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

He smiles at that and watches as you moan after swallowing another mouthful of pasta, trying to ignore how his slacks tighten.

“Do you want to try some of mine?” Bob offers, he’s slyly trying to feed you.

“Sure!”

Bob twirls the tagliatelle around his fork and leans over to pop it in your mouth. You wrap your mouth around the fork and pull off of it with a pop, leaving a small amount of the creamy sauce on the side of your lip. Bob watches in awe as you chew and swallow the pasta, your tongue peeks out to swipe at the sauce left on your lip.

“How have you made pasta sexy?”

You laugh at his expression, “I would argue pasta has always been sexy.”

You both finish your meals and polish off the bottle of white that the waiter had recommended, it had gotten pretty late but there was still flocks of well dressed couples eating at the restaurant. You were finally able to flag down a waiter,

“Can we get the cheque please, Daniel?” You smile, looking down at the waiters name tag politely.

The waiter flushes, “Of course, miss.” And scurries off.

Before you can speak, Bob butts in, “There is no way on earth you’re paying.”

You roll your eyes and reach for your clutch, “Shush, handsome.”

Bob is faster than you and your clutch is tucked under his armpit before your fingertips can grasp it. You pout and Bob has half a mind to listen to every command you ever make for the rest of his life, but his mother would be bitterly disappointed if he allowed (who he thought to be) the most beautiful girl in the world to pay for her food.

“Don’t give me that Southern gentleman crap.”

Bob’s cheeks flush as he realises you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re not paying for anything.”

You give him your best doe eyes, squeeze your cleavage together and pout, “Halvesies?”

Bob looks away and says something he never thought he would to you.

“No, darlin’ please, let me do this.” He drawls.

You relent, the pet name sending heat to your cheeks.

“Fine, but i’m paying next time.”

Bob chuckles, but his heart leaps hearing you sound so certain about a ‘next time’. The waiter returns with the cheque and Bob doesn’t even allow you the courtesy of seeing the bill. He knows you’d be angry at how much it was, but he thought it was so worth it, just for you.

Leaving the restaurant, the air has much more of a chill to it than before you left. You try to stifle a shiver as the breeze hits you but Bob has already noticed and is shedding himself of his jacket. Draping it over your shoulders. It’s a tad big on you, but smells incredibly like him. You try to discreetly stick your nose into the neckline and inhale deeply. Bob giggles at your action,

“Smell good?”

“Heavenly.”

It’s a short walk to Bob’s car and he’s rushing around to open the door for you immediately. He gives you your clutch that he had been graciously holding for you before walking round back to the drivers side.

The radio hums peacefully between you two playing 80s r&b hits on the slow drive back to your apartment. The sky is a dusky blue, and the city lights blur with the stars the darker it gets. You hum along as the song switches to one you recognise, singing quietly as you watch Bob drive. He looks so incredibly handsome lit up by the streetlights.

The song reaches its crescendo and now your full on singing at Bob whilst he giggles at your theatrics, “It’s like candy!”

You’re shimmying in your seat and Bob watches with practically hearts for eyes. You laugh heartily and Bob thinks it’s probably the best thing he’ll ever hear.

“Eyes on the road, handsome.”

Who is he to deny you anything? Bob reluctantly pulls his eyes from you and realises he’s much closer to your apartment than he thought. He goes right at the next turning and spots your building at the end of the road. Just as he’s about to start sighing you open your mouth, “Will you come up to my apartment with me?”

Bob swears his heart is beating out of his chest, “Of course.”

Once he’s parked, Bob once again rushes round to open the door for you and help you out. You stumble slightly, landing on the side of your wedge and steady yourself on Bob’s strong arms. Before he can ask if you’re okay your lips are on his. Bob swears he’s in heaven right now. You lips are soft on his, plump and tasting of the remnants of the wine you finished off as well as the tang of the lipgloss you had reapplied in the car. You pull away from him and Bob could have cried from the loss of contact,

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if I could kiss you.” You mumble slightly.

Bob sighs, “Please shush, and do it again.”

You giggle and immediately reunite your lips. This time there’s a little more passion with the confirmation that he wants it fully. His tongue slides into your mouth, meeting your own making you let out a whimper. You guide his hands from politely at your waist down to your ass, he groans into your mouth, dampening your underwear. You pull away and a string of saliva connects your lips. You want to be disgusted but your pretty sure your core just clenched with more want than you’ve ever felt.

“Come on.” You grab Bob’s hand with a coy smile and drag him into your building and towards the elevator.

The ride up to your floor feels painstakingly long to Bob, when it finally dings and the doors open he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

He follows your footsteps as you walk tantalisingly slowly towards your apartment door. You shuffle through your clutch to retrieve your keys before pushing them in the lock and walking through the door. Bob is quick on your heels. You stop abruptly and bend over to undo your wedges. The meat of your ass bumps against Bob’s crotch and he holds in a deep groan.

“Minx.” You hear him mutter as you wander over to your kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of red.

You return back to where Bob is now sat on your couch. You place the two glasses on the coffee table along with the bottle.

“Pour us a glass and meet me in my room.”

Bob nods in understanding and blatantly watches your behind as you saunter over to your bedroom. After finishing off pouring the second glass he hears you call out his name. He picks up the glasses and follows your pathway towards your bedroom door which is cracked open slightly.

You’re stood fully naked in front of the full length mirror on your wardrobe door, trying to undo the clasp on the back of your necklace.

Bob’s grip tightens on the two glasses as he tries not to allow them to tumble to the floor. His hard cock is pressing shamelessly against the front of his slacks now.

“Could you help me with my necklace?” You turn your head slightly to ask Bob.

He’s at a loss for words but nods dumbly, placing the two glasses on your dresser closest to the door. He takes the few short steps to close the distance between you and stands behind you cautiously. You look up at him from the mirror,

“You can touch me.” You smile comfortingly at him.

Bob releases a shaky breath and reaches to help hold your hair up. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and it sends a shiver down your spine. The gold pendant which dangles between your breasts shakes slightly and Bob lets his gaze wander down towards them. You finally unclasp your necklace and Bob lets your hair down so you can step away and place the necklace on your jewellery plate.

“Thank you, baby.”

Bob let’s out a low moan. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He reaches for your hand and drags it towards his hard cock. You both moan upon making contact and you palm him slightly over his trousers just enough to work him up. You reach up to connect your lips again as Bob’s hands find your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples making you arch up into his touch. Your hand leaves his crotch in favour of undoing the buttons on his dress shirt hurriedly. His hands join yours so he can finally shed himself of his shirt, suddenly feeling like he was on fire.

Once his shirt has been discarded on the floor, your able to run your hands all over his muscular chest. You whine against his lips as your hands dip lower, tracing his happy trail.

“Why have you been hiding this from me?”

Bob smirks against your lips and deepens the kiss further, licking into your mouth. His hands dip from your waist to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Can I?” He whispers.

“Fuck, please.”

Bob lifts you in his strong arms and plops you down onto your bed, you spread your legs as he crawls up to meet you. He lowers his head to the bed and stares at your pussy, glistening with arousal for him. It’s already started to coat the tops of your thighs. You shy slightly under his gaze and try to close your legs, he raises a strong hand to your thigh, stopping you.

“Baby, please do something.” You whine, high pitched.

Bob was never one to decline you and reaches his other hand forward. His middle finger slides between your slit, gathering your wetness. He bumps against your clit a few times before pulling his finger away to lick at the wetness now on his finger. You buck your hips up to where he’s looking down at you. He reaches his hand down again and parts your lips. He spits down onto your pussy, it hits your clit and rolls down to mix with your juices.

“Fucking christ.” He whimpers, “I need to fuck you.”

You moan loudly at his proclamation and sit up to help him rid himself of his trousers. You slip off of your bed as he sits up on the edge. Staring down at you with lust blown pupils as you pull the zipper down and begin to pull his trousers down as well. He lifts his hips and you’re able to tear them down the rest of the way pretty quickly since he discarded his shoes near the door along with yours. You’re now face to face with his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxers. The sight makes you lick your lips, maybe another day. You pull his boxers down the rest of the way as well and watch as his cock slaps against his abdomen. The tip is pink and there’s a few beads of precum threatening to fall down the side of him, there’s one large vein that runs across the bottom of it.

“Shit, you’re big.” You chuckle slightly looking up at him. Bob is pretty sure he’s in love with you.

Bob pulls you up by your hands and you land on his lap. You push at his chest and he gets the hint to lay back. His head hits your pillows and you reach forward to peck his lips, before grabbing his cock in you right hand and stroking it a few times. He whimpers against your lips making your giggle. You move your pussy towards his cock, guiding the tip between your folds, gathering wetness. You both moan out as he hits your clit.

“Stop teasing darlin’.” Bob groans as his tip moves over your clit again.

You groan breathlessly but agree, “Only for you handsome.”

With that, you begin to slowly sink down onto his length. Your arousal makes it an easy glide down, but he’s still thick. He struggles not to buck up into you until your finally fully seated. The dusting of hair above his dick hits your clit making your whimper shyly. Bob is 100% sure he’s dead and in heaven right now, and he praises himself for whatever good deed he did which allowed him to feel your velvety walls squeezing him at this very second.

You set a pace on top of him, moving up and down on him and swirling your hips as you go. Bob’s hands are groping at your ass as he bucks up into you, meeting your thrusts. Your bedroom is filled with your joint breathy moans and the sounds of skin slapping as your ride Bob. One of his hands snakes round from your ass to toy with your clit. It makes you jolt and whine out loudly.

“Fuck. Babe I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” You giggle down at Bob.

He smirks up at you, “That’s the whole point.” He punctuates his sentence with a thrust up into you. He’s been close since the moment you sank down onto him, but wants you to cum first. He rubs circles on your clit, he can feel you tightening around him the more he does. You quicken your pace, chasing your high.

“I’m close, please.” You moan out, rolling your hips down to meet another sharp thrust from Bob. He switches the way he’s circling your clit abruptly and looks up at you, begging,

“Cum for me please, gorgeous.”

You wail slightly on top of him as your peak hits, clenching down on him as you buck up erratically. Your pulsing pushes Bob over the edge and you can feel as he spurts his seed into you with a few jerks of his hips.

You slump down onto his chest as the white hot pleasure starts to fade away. You listen to his beating heart calm with a lazy smirk on your face. Bob is staring down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s hard to comprehend.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers.

You look up at him from where your chin is resting on his pec.

“That’s all you, handsome.”

Bob has never been so sure that you’re all he wants to see for the rest of his life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: HWJDUEUWJW finally finished this and omfg,,, my fave thing i’ve written to date!!!

sorry that it’s kind of long but i promise it worth itttt

defo will be doing some more w these two bc they are adorbs

pls reblog, comment or send me an ask and tell me what you think !!!!

as always thank u for readingggg :)))

- honey <333

[roanniom]

I adored smartest! Scratched an itch I didn’t know I had for Steve. Can’t stop thinking of him seeing someone trying to flirt with his tutor and getting possessive and dragging her down the nearest dark alley to prove no one could make her dumb like he can.

Smartest - Part 2

King!Steve Harrington x tutor!fem!reader

Read Part 1

Warning: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, mutual masturbation, semi public sex / PIV sex / unprotected sex, teasing, power dynamics, King!Steve is a dick and is his own warning (but goes through angst here???)

Steve isn’t really sure what he assumed would happen after he’d been hooking up with his tutor for a while. There had been absolutely no forethought to the initial act, and the fact that you had been into him enough to let him keep fucking you during each session - well Steve Harrington isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, of course.

But he certainly hadn’t anticipated how the attention would affect how you carry yourself. In the halls. In class. In the stands during pep rallies. Walking through the diner or at the movies. Whenever Steve sees you out and about in Hawkins now, he can’t help but blink and do a double take.

You stand up straighter. You smile brighter. You make eye contact with the people around you. Your clothes are a little more relaxed, opting for flouncier skirts and fun tops rather than cardigans and your usual buttoned up, structured dresses.

To Steve, of course, the change seems motivated by him. And, to be fair, he was sort of the catalyst. He couldn’t possibly know that really you’ve started to come into your own, not because of Steve’s attention itself, but because of the way it allowed you to dismiss the fears you’d had of your own undesirability. The King of Hawkins High wanted you. You’re pretty sure it’s just as a steady fuck buddy, but still. You’d gone from scared to look boys in the eye to being very aware of the fact that you walking through the Harrington’s front door with your books and notes had a pretty much Pavlovian effect of Steve’s cock. He was basically hard fifteen minutes into any tutoring session these days.

It’s not that Steve’s attention has validated you, per se. It’s more that it has made you realize how silly men are. How easy and one track minded they can be. Its almost silly to think how starved you had been for approval and how sure you’d been that your status as an A+ goody goody made you untouchable. That was clearly, judging by the bruises Steve left on your thighs each week, not the case. The whole thing has made you ten times less nervous in his presence. And if you don’t have to be nervous around the King, it essentially means that you’re more at ease everywhere.

At first this change in you intrigues Steve. He truly had never really given you much thought prior to the start of your dalliance. Sure you were pretty…in a stuffy, academic, good girl type of way. But he was always a bird of prey, looking for shiny, garish, colorful and shapely things to catch his eye.

So the day you show up to his place in a tight skirt and a fashionable off the shoulder blouse that bares your collar bones and exposes cleavage, Steve’s eyes practically pop out of his head.

“Well hello,” he says directly to your tits. You roll your eyes and step around him into the house.

“Hi, Steve,” you reply, walking towards the dining room where you usually have your sessions. Steve jogs up behind you and grabs you at the waist, turning you back to him.

“Not in there. Let’s study in my room.”

“Why?” you ask, confused by the sudden change.

“Well, my parents are home,” Steve elaborates. Heat fills you as you realize what he means, but you cock your head to the side, waiting for him to say it. Steve rubs the back of his neck and chuckles. “So we can’t…have fun in the dining room.”

“I’m here to tutor you, Steve. So I guess it’s okay if we can’t have fun,” you say with a shrug. You can’t suppress your smile though and Steve’s smile widens. A few weeks ago you would have stuttered and gone shy but immediately compliant, hoping to please him. This was new.

“Yeah but what about when I get an answer right?” Steve asks, stepping forward and lifting his hand so he can play with the hem of your shirt. “You know I need positive reinforcement.”

You do your best to hide your swallow at the memory of how you had sucked his cock after you’d cajoled him into memorizing his flash cards. Even more heat courses through your body but you look up at him defiantly.

“I brought a packet of gold stars. You like stickers, Steve?”

Your answer catches him off guard and he lets out a bark of a laugh. There’s a triumphant fanfare ringing in your ears at the fact that you are able to make Steve laugh like that. Organically and not part of any of kind of show or flirtation or charm offensive.

“I do like stickers…” he says, his hand dipping under the hem of your top and splaying out over the bare skin of your waist. “But I think this body might motivate me better.”

Your breath catches in your throat at that. His heavy eye contact leaves you nowhere to run. Not that you’d ever run from Steve. He’s a magnet pulling you in regardless of distance or context.

But he’s also made the vital mistake of showing his hand. He wants something from you, too. This isn’t a one way serving pity situation. You might be dumb with his cock in you, but before it gets to that point you’re still the smartest girl in Hawkins. So you use this information to your advantage.

You take his hand and walk him up the stairs (a bold move that he didn’t see coming and which makes him immediately rock hard as he watches your ass away ahead of him up the steps).

You’re the one who closes the door. He locks it.

You end up getting Steve to complete all of his homework…by himself. With motivation in the form of a game where you give him a sticker after he completes each assignment and he gets to decide which body part of yours it goes on. By the end of the afternoon you’re naked on his bed, a sticker on each of your tits, each of your ass cheeks, your bellybutton, and your lower abdomen. By the end of the session his head is squeezed between your thighs, his hands roaming and roving to squeeze each soft piece of flesh he’d bedazzled with his gold stars of favor.

So yeah. At first your increased confidence was something Steve found pretty fucking hot.

But as time went on, he began to realize that your confidence didn’t begin and end with him. He started seeing you around in school more. It’s not that you had somehow increased the amount of times you cross his path in a day, exactly. More that you used to melt into the background a bit more. He’d notice you only if you were right in front of him shyly waving. He’d wave back dutifully at his tutor, sometimes throwing you a bone in the form of a wink, lazily enjoying the way it would so obviously throw you into a tailspin with virtually no effort on his part.

Now you’re somehow everywhere all at once. And not only are you noticeable in the crowd - you stand out from it. Your hair is more stylish, your clothes are unapologetically patterned and colored and fit you in ways his hands envy. Your smile is brighter than the god damn fluorescents above. And now Steve is the one who has to maneuver to catch your eye. Because you’re always talking to people these days, it seems. And a lot of those people are guys, Steve notices begrudgingly.

You stand with your back against a locker, your books pulled to your chest as your arms wrap around them, a smile on your face that is definitely not worth the lame ass comment said by the dumb jock standing before you. Steve pauses at the water fountain where he’d been bending when he’d turned his head and saw you. So clearly the recipient of some football player’s attention.

And boy do you glow under attention.

That week when you arrive at his house to tutor him, Steve tries to charm you again into simply fucking outright. Again, you coyly dance around it, making him work for it. He ends up losing his patience and crowding you in the kitchen when you get up for a snack.

“Steve! I’m trying to—!” You’re squealing but he swallows it up as he takes the coke can out of your hand and blindly moves it away from you, his mouth already hot on yours.

Before you can register what’s happening, Steve’s hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and pushed his way between your spread legs.

“What?” Steve asks, pulling away and feigning nonchalance as if he hadn’t just manhandled you and mauled you with his lips. “You said we could have a snack break.” He slides a hand down to cup your pussy through your skirt. He pets at the place over your clit. “This is my snack.”

What would have once rendered you speechless makes you roll your eyes.

“I’m actually hungry, Steve.”

Steve gives you a lopsided grin and drops his hand on his hard on, evident and swell in the confines of his jeans.

“Got a snack for you right here.”

You laugh at that and Steve feels something akin to pride zing through him. But it’s not exactly like pride, an emotion he knows well. No, it’s something different. Warmer.

“As much as I do enjoy that particular snack, Harrington, I don’t think your cum will satiate me.”

“Fuck. Dirty talk and big words like ‘satiate’.” Steve pretends to feel faint with a hand on his forehead. “You really have this hot smart girl thing figured out.”

You shake your head at him but smile, and Steve hates the fact that it’s your smile that makes him even harder.

He also hates the fact that fifteen minutes later he finds himself sliding into a booth at the local diner rather than sliding himself into your sweet pussy.

You’d cajoled him into taking you for a real meal since there was nothing to eat at his place. And no, you’d continued to argue. His cock was not a balanced meal.

His hand had been on your thigh for half of the drive to the diner before he realized, like ice water down his back, that the whole situation reeked of a date. He’d pulled his hand back over to clutch at the steering wheel with a double grip, eyes flitting to you anxiously. However you seemed not to notice, looking instead out the window pleasantly.

As he’d parked Steve had made a mental note to reel in the PDA. He didn’t want you thinking this was more than it was. More than a weekly fuck session between two consenting people. One of whom used to have the upper hand and one of whom…had the sexiest smile with lips that looked sinful wrapped around a stripped straw and cheeks that hollowed sexually as they sucked—

Fuck.

Steve Harrington was in trouble.

The meal went by quickly, and over time you were able to pull him from his rattled internal monologue, stealing his fries and teasing him for getting in trouble in class earlier in the day. Steve throws a fry at you and nudges your foot with his under the table. You laugh. His stomach flips. His palm itches so he drops it under the table and rubs it against the denim on his thigh.

When the waitress comes with the check, you bound to the bathroom and Steve gets a minute to get his shit together.

He’s Steve fucking Harrington. Supreme stud of Hawkins High. Another girl every week (although if he was counting, which he wasn’t, it had been a few weeks since he’d reracked his rotation). He fishes his wallet out of his too-tight jeans and drops down some bills.

“Thanks, handsome.”

Steve looks up, expecting to see you but instead realizing it had come from the waitress who he’d forgotten was standing there. She’s a pretty thing, maybe a year or two older. He’s seen her working here before and he lets his eyes roam over her figure unabashedly. Her uniform isn’t zipped up all the way in the front, leaving exposed a generous swell of cleavage and her waist flares out into a voluptuous set of hips. She taps a manicured nail on her order pad, patiently waiting for him to finish oogling her. She’s a hot girl and he’s a hot guy. She knows this dance and so does Steve. When he drags his eyes up from her tits to her face, she looks expectant.

This is the part where he chats her up. Where he compliments her - or cuts her down a bit in a boyish, redeemable way - and then asks her out. He’s supposed to give her his million watt rich boy smile, run a hand through his hair, and turn on the charm.

She’s expecting it. He’s expecting it of himself.

But instead, all he can manage is a nod and a tight smile. He watches the waitress’s brows raise and her smile fall a bit. But then she’s simply picking up the money and walking away. Steve has a moment of panic as his eyes drop to watch the sway of her ass as she retreats. What the fuck is wrong with him? He could have been tucked away in his car with that hot woman, spanking that ass within the hour.

Instead he’s still tucked away in a booth at a diner her didn’t want to go to, still painfully hard without an outlet in sight.

Which is when he hears your laugher ring out, causing said hard cock to twitch. Steve turns quickly to find you standing by the entrance to the bathroom, cornered by yet another football player.

He sees red. The way you’re leaning up against the wall is a mirror image to when he’d seen you receive attention earlier in the week by your locker. You gaze up at the football player with a smile that Steve realizes he’d assumed was only meant for him. It boils his blood to think that the smile you’d bestowed on him so dutifully, so loyally, was just your smile. A thing to be handed out like some cheap party favor to any Tom, Dick, or Harry.

Steve can’t know - especially from a distance - that you really are only humoring this guy. If one looked closer they could never mistake the tight lipped, emotionless nicety on your face for the radiant, full bodied smile you reserved for Steve. You’d gotten cornered by the jock on your way back to the bathroom, and you’d been trying to politely extricate yourself from his lukewarm advances for a few minutes now.

He was rambling about his car and the upgrades he’d gotten done to it when suddenly a pair of big hands land heavy on your shoulder.

“Babe, I paid the check. Let’s get out of here.”

You whip your head around to find Steve behind you, though his gaze is placed firmly on the football player. Though they aren’t the same in width, Steve’s got the guy beat in height, and he uses it to his advantage by standing up straight and puffing his chest a bit.

“Harrington,” the jock chokes out. In the Hawkins hierarchy, the basketball team is more successful than the football team by a long shot, so a certain amount of deference is expected for the king of the court, even from fellow athletes. “I’m sorry…I didn’t…is this your girl?”

Steve feels you go rigid under his hold. Your eyes flash up to his but he doesn’t meet yours.

“Don’t you have a playbook to memorize?” Steve asks coolly. He pulls lightly and your back presses against his chest. “If I remember football season right, I’d say it’s gonna take you till fall and then some. Better get back to it.”

You try to laugh his comment off and put a hand on the bicep of your would-be suitor.

“Steve, this is—,”

“Mr. Irrelevant,” Steve completes for you, smoothly using both an insult and a football pun.

The jock stutters another apology before ambling back to his friends. You don’t have time to question Steve because his arm is suddenly around you, pulling you with him out the door.

The two of you walk briskly to his car, and only when you reach the passenger door do you finally regain your powers of speech.

“What was that in there, Steve?” you ask quietly. Your hand is on the door handle but you remain motionless.

“What? I told you, I don’t like football players,” Steve says with a shrug, yanking open the driver side door and dropping into his seat. You climb in carefully and watch him as he violently pulls on his seatbelt.

“Why?”

“Because they’re a bunch of meat heads and it’s a sport revolving around how many concussions they can rack up—,”

“No, Steve,” you interrupt gently, your hand dropping on his knee. “Why were you acting…possessive?”

Steve’s skin burns through his jeans where your hand touches him. He stares at it for a second before looking up, agitated.

“Well excuse me for saving you. I thought you’d be thanking me for getting that guy to stop drooling on you.”

His words sting and you wince. Steve even winces a bit, having not intended to sound so forceful. You shrug.

“He was only being nice.”

Steve let’s out a humorless laugh.

“That wasn’t being nice. That was undressing you with his eyes. That was trying to get you to let him feel you up under the bleachers. Nice is—,”

“Nice is flirting with your tutor to get her to do your homework?”

Steve freezes before he can turn the key in the ignition. He looks over to find that you’re staring blankly out the windshield. Your arms are hugging you, like you’re trying to comfort yourself.

“That’s not…”

“Nice is fucking her when you’re bored? Your little prescheduled sex appointment?”

Steve’s defenses raise and he unbuckles his seatbelt so he can turn more fully to you.

“Hey wait, that’s—,”

“That’s exactly what this is. I haven’t misunderstood that, Steve,” you say, finally turning the full force of your earnest gaze on him. “Have you?”

Steve blinks at you slowly. Completely unsure about what’s going on and how the night has taken this turn.

He’s even more bewildered when you suddenly move to climb into the back seat.

“What are you doing?” he asks, surprised and leaning over to watch you lay yourself down on the seat.

“You wanted to fuck me earlier. So do it.”

Steve feels like you’ve slapped him in the face. Your stare is cool and you begin to unbutton your blouse. Panic rises inside of him and his head whirls around.

“Here? Someone could see,” Steve argues. They are in the back corner of the parking lot, but it’s a parking lot nonetheless, illuminated by one sole street lamp. You shrug.

“The windows are tinted, aren’t they?”

Steve can’t begin to comprehend the conflict coursing through his veins. Of course the windows are tinted. Almost illegally so. He knows that because he’s fucked countless girls in the back seat of his car. Hadn’t he even just thought about fucking that waitress in his car only minutes ago?

But with you…

He’s thrown off by the urge he has to cover your breasts with his hands when you peel back your top. Not even to touch you but just to keep you from being seen by others.

Why does he fucking care?

King Steve had fucked at every party he’d ever been to - sometimes even in rooms with no doors or up against the back of a house with people nearby on a porch. He’d never once had a conscience about it. As long as the girl was down, he was ready to go.

So why is it different now, with you stripping in his back seat and staring at him with big doe eyes?

“Come on. Don’t make me get started by myself,” you say teasingly. You’re clearly trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. Steve swallows hard.

“You wouldn’t.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him and lift the hem of your skirt. You’re wearing a lacy scrap of panties that match your bra. Definitely a far cry from the sensible underwear you’d been wearing the first time he’d seduced you.

“Try me.”

And despite the confusion and warning bells going off in his head, Steve’s clambering into the back seat in seconds. He’s on top of you, hips shoved between your thighs and big hands on your wrists, pinning them above your head against the inside of the car door.

“That’s more like it,” you coo, smiling a dazzling smile up at him. It thrills him and upsets him and makes him frustrated all at once, and since he doesn’t know how to express that with words he does it physically. His mouth drops to your neck so he can pull a sizable amount of flesh between his lips and suck. Hard. You gasp and arch up into him, giving him the perfect opportunity to switch your wrists into a single handed grip so he can move the other hand down to grope at your breasts. Instead of covering them and hiding them, he rips down your bra, letting your breasts spill from the cups.

Steve bites a bruising trail down from your neck to your cleavage, sucking harder than he ever has before.

“Trying to be cute, huh?” he growls against your skin. You laugh breathlessly, wrists straining against his hold.

“Yeah. ‘s it working?”

That makes Steve strangle a laugh but it still frustrates him. You’ve somehow still got the upper hand here. Even though you’re below him and your body is at his mercy. When did the tables turn so fully?

So he sits up abruptly, leaving you laying back, legs still open wide around his hips, his spit still drying around the new bruises sucked to your neck. You’re motionless for a second before leaning up on your elbows to look at him, dazed.

“I’m a little unconvinced,” Steve says with a shrug. A frown filters over your features. You watch as he smooths his hands up and down your thighs, looking at your panty-clad center appraisingly.

“What are you unconvinced about?” you ask. Steve draws a line with his index finger over the length of the waistband of your panties.

“That you really want it bad enough.”

Frustration flickers in your eyes.

“Want what?” you ask, playing along. Steve drops one hand to the bulge in his jeans.

“This cock.”

You roll your eyes and sit up higher.

“Of course I want—,”

“I’m not sure, baby. You were gonna touch yourself back here. Maybe I should have let you handle it.” His actions contradict his words as one hand rubs slow circles right at the crease where your thigh meets your hip. Your eyebrows knit together.

“No, I want you,” you reply, almost petulantly.

There it is.

This is what Steve needed.

But he shakes his head. Now that he’s got you back on the line he’s going to enjoy this to the fullest.

“Maybe you had the right idea,” he says, leaning back a bit against the opposite door. The backs of your thighs still rest on the tops of his, and with one hand still heavy on you, his free hand pops open the button of his jeans. You feel the slide of his zipper rush down your spine.

When Steve pulls his cock out and begins to stroke it, you feel your stomach drop and your mouth water. He’s watching you as he does it. Eyes darting from your breasts almost spilling out of the cups of your bra to the wet spot in the center of your panties. It makes you hot. It turns you on in a way that’s almost painful to watch the flushed fat head of his cock disappear and reappear in the grip of his fist.

“I’m…I’m right here,” you mutter. Steve grins and takes his hand from his cock and slides it confidently under the elastic hem of your panties.

“Yeah, you are.”

The intrusion of his fingers is sudden and sure and you gasp at the feeling of them sliding through your slick. He swirls a few circles around your tensing hole before sliding up to press circles into your clit. You drop back down off your elbows and let out a satisfied moan at the stimulation you’d craved.

But then…he’s pulling his hand back, allowing the elastic of your panties to snap back on you with a sting. You sit up again fast and watch as he takes the wetness he’d gathered from you to make the glide of his hand on his cock more smooth. Your jaw drops.

“Thanks, baby,” Steve says with a wink.

“Steve, what?!”

He shrugs.

“I would’ve asked you to spit in my hand but I didn’t think you would since you’re having an attitude.”

That. That struck exactly the nerve he thought it would. Your jaw sets and your eyes flash. Scooting back a bit so you, too, can lean on the inside of the door closest to you, you drop your legs open wider, well aware of the way Steve’s attention immediately drops to them.

“You’re not very nice, Steve Harrington,” you say quietly. Both of your hands move to squeeze at your own breasts and you arch into your own touch. Steve chuckles at that, eyes on your hands.

“And you’re nice even when you’re pissed apparently,” he says dismissively. Your frown deepens as you pull your bra down to expose you fully. Steve’s face goes blank, like you hoped.

“Fuck you,” you respond, just as quiet as before. Steve’s eyes remain glazed, hand moving faster on his cock, but he gives a lopsided grin.

“There she is. Feisty.”

The interior of the car has started to heat up. The humid smell of sex fills the air, though you’d prefer actually having sex. He’s been pushing it tonight, but you really can’t help the way you feel watching his big hand move on his even bigger cock. It should be inside you. This is the day of your tutoring session. The one day of the week that almost guaranteed you had his attention. Every other day, King Steve belonged to Hawkins. He was a heartthrob and a hometown hero. Probably inside of a different girl each night of the weekend (though you try not to think of that because it’s gross).

But on tutoring days it’s just you. So the fact that he’s choosing to touch himself rather than fill you has you feeling petty. It makes you redouble your efforts. You pinch one of your nipples and let out a heady, performative sigh, all while your other hand moves down and shoves inside your panties. You trace the same path Steve did, circling your hole and then your clit. Getting yourself nice and worked up with your eyes glued on the way Steve drags his hand over his throbbing dick.

Steve is mesmerized, as seems evident by the way he’s stopped talking to watch you. To hear you.

When you push two fingers inside of yourself, you let out an indulgent moan that causes Steve’s hips to buck into his hand. Your thighs quiver where they remain stretched out around his legs.

You drop your other hand down into your stretched out panties to play with your clit while you continue thrusting fingers in and out of yourself - that’s when Steve loses it.

“Show me,” he says gruffly, eyes ripping from the space between your legs to look up at you blearily.

“You’re literally watching me right now,” you laugh, breathless. Steve shakes his head and reaches out to tug on the edge of your panties.

“Get this shit out of the way.”

Now it’s your turn to shake your head.

“Nope. You had your chance with my pussy. You wanted your hand.”

The filthy words coming from you almost makes his eyes roll back in his head. He grunts and continues fisting his cock, but he looks more frustrated now.

Unfortunately there’s something of a Pavlovian response in your body at the sight of his aggression. Whether you like it or not, your burgeoning sexuality had crackled into being under the hands of Steve Harrington, and Steve being Steve is what gets you going.

Unlucky for you and the upper hand you’re trying to cling to, Steve can tell. Back to back weeks of fucking the same person will do that to you, apparently.

“You’re close.” It’s more accusation than observation.

You want to disagree but your fingers speed up on your clit and you widen your legs even more, looking to build pressure.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Fuck.” Steve slows his hand on his cock, breathing deeply and placing a laser focus on your hands in your panties. “Bet you’re getting tight around those fingers, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, eyes closing and head thrown back against the door. “Really tight…”

Steve let’s out an uncharacteristically pathetic moan. The thrill of it causes your core to contract even tighter.

“Bet you wish I was sucking those tits right now,” Steve remarks, replaying in his head all the times he’d made you cum lately. You lift up to look at him with stern hooded eyes and pull one of your hands from your panties. With a pointed look you raise your fingers to your mouth, lick them wetly, and then bring them down to play with your nipple. Your hips buck into your other hand and Steve loses his fucking mind.

“Alright, that’s fucking it,” he says, launching himself forward. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, hitching your legs up and around his hips, dropping so that his elbows cage you in on either side of your head. The length of his cock slides parallel to your entrance with a wet sound, pushing your pussy lips apart.

“Finally,” you moan petulantly. And that’s all the consent Steve needs to reach down and line himself up so he can thrust into you.

Things get hot and hazy after that. Your fingers thread into his hair and pull hard at the roots. Steve’s tongue and teeth are everywhere, but especially on your pulse point and on the peaks of your breasts.

The slap of skin on skin fills the interior of the car, rivaled only by your shared panting.

Steve shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t be such a relief to sink into your body, like it’s a home he’s been waiting to return to. Your nails biting into his back through his shirt shouldn’t feel like heaven and your little mewls and gasps shouldn’t be an angel’s chorus. He’s not even fucking religious, so what’s with the holy comparisons?

“Oh Steve. Fuck,” you whisper moan right into his ear. Steve slides a hand under you to push your lower back up, giving your hips a tilt that lets him hit deeper.

“It’s good, yeah?” he asks. It’s a question but it’s cocky. You bite his earlobe and clench around him.

“I don’t know, is it?”

“Fucking Christ.”

Yeah. Steve Harrington is seeing god in the back seat of his car in a diner parking lot.

~*~

It takes a minute for you both to catch your breath when you’re done. Sweat and cum and words left unsaid create a film over the two of you which makes it hard to breathe.

Eventually Steve helps you climb back into the front seat before hoping behind the wheel himself to bring you back to the empty Harrington house. Upon arriving, Steve puts the car in park and turns to you, intent on speaking though he’s not sure what he plans to say. You, however, give him no such chance to figure it out as you bound out of the car and up the path to the front door. Steve catches up to let you in.

It’s later than it usually is when you wrap up your tutoring sessions. Steve has to turn on lamps as he follows you through the dark foyer and into the dining room where he finds you already grabbing your things and packing your bag up, half hidden in shadow.

“We didn’t finish the work,” he says quietly. Some what dumbly. You hoist your bag over your shoulder and give him a smile that deep down he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“Yeah. Looks like we’ll have to finish another time.”

When you start for the door, moving at a brisk pace, Steve stumbles after you.

You’re over the threshold and making your way to your car, glowing in the yellow light of the porch lamp before Steve can blurt out.

“When?”

God, he does sound fucking dumb.

And you. You turn and give him one last smile. Looking so put together. So smart.

“That’s up to you, Steve,” you say with a shrug, opening your car door. “You let me know.”

And with that, you get in your car and drive away. Leaving Steve standing alone on his porch with his thoughts.

~*~

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Ahhh originally had no intention of writing a part two and then this happened. Please reblog and comment to let me know what you think and thanks for reading!!

[jihyocentric]

sooo, i got a request for that lifeguard tzu x milf jeong.

i'm not posting this as a fill to that rq because it's too different than what anon requested for. hope the anon who asked for it still likes this though, i just wanted to do it this way.

-

summers were meant for people to take a break from the routine and have fun.

tzuyu couldn’t enjoy it the way she wanted to, having to decline countless offers from her friends to go out, all because she had to work. student loans wouldn’t pay themselves, and fatefully, tzuyu had to sacrifice her summer if she wanted to keep up with her studies.

she might not be able to hang out with her friends, but she still had fun. that summer in particular, she managed to get a job at a seaside resort. it wasn’t far from where she lived, and unless there were reckless parents who didn’t keep an eye on their kids, tzuyu didn’t have to do much at work.

during the day, she’d take the lifeguard post, and during the night, tzuyu would work as a waitress at the bar — for the extra money. if she smiled enough and didn’t take long to grant the clients of their orders, they would certainly tip her.

rich people were really interesting, giving her big notes as if it was nothing for them.

it would’ve been a boring summer if it wasn’t for someone in particular. she was certainly one of those rich people, and while tzuyu hasn’t seen her around at the bar, she sees her during the day, at the beach.

she is always with her kids — that’s what tzuyu assumed, given the fact that they looked just like her. perhaps tzuyu has been getting distracted, looking at her for too long, enough to realize that she might be a single mom who just happens to be taking her kids on vacation.

it isn’t until one of her kids decide to go a little too deep in the sea, that tzuyu has the chance to talk to her. tzuyu runs to the sea, takes the struggling kid back to the surface, and checks on them to see if they’re fine and that they’re able to breathe.

the mom reaches them quickly, with the younger kid in her arms. she doesn’t acknowledge tzuyu’s presence at first, going straight to her kid, touching her son’s cheek and arms to see if he didn’t get hurt. he complains, telling her he’s fine — he was certainly a pre teen, and at that age, kids weren’t so fond of that kind of affection.

“i told you to stay in the shallow,” the woman says, and it’s the first time tzuyu hears her voice. she clearly wants to say more, perhaps scold the kid, but she refrains from doing so in front of strangers. “thank you for helping him.”

the deep tone of her voice makes tzuyu shiver. it fits the woman perfectly, velvety and distinct, certainly not what tzuyu had expected but even better. tzuyu nods — it’s all she can do — and tells the woman that she was just doing her job.

she tries not to stutter, and when the woman leaves, with an arm over the boy’s shoulder, definitely scolding him, tzuyu can’t bring herself not to look at her body.

sometimes she goes to the beach without the kids. tzuyu figures that the kids are either with the other parent, or with a babysitter. rich people could afford that kind of thing, and when the woman would show up without the kids, she’d wear something revealing, as if she wants to get all the attention that she could.

tzuyu takes her job seriously — she swears she does. she has to. but not many people were trying to risk their lives in the sea, so for the most part, she just sat on a tall chair and observed her.

she looked beautiful in bikinis. she’d usually wear swimsuits when she was with her children, but without them, it was as if she was ready to be stared at for hours — or until tzuyu’s shift at the beach was over.

tzuyu didn’t think she noticed. she was careful enough, settling for looking at the woman for only a few seconds, just enough to run her eyes from head to toe.

she’d get a glimpse of the woman’s cleavage, the skin shining gracefully under the sunlight. the thighs made tzuyu have to take a deep breath, afraid of getting hard — that would be unprofessional. not that tzuyu has been professional to begin with.

and then she’d do her job, repeating it all every five minutes.

(under the older woman’s dark sunglasses, there lied curious eyes that certainly knew about the young lifeguard’s interest on her.)

it’s during her night shift at the bar, at the very end of the week, that tzuyu sees her there for the first time.

she figures the woman wanted to have fun that night. it’s usually when the foreigners would leave, and perhaps the woman that tzuyu has been watching wouldn’t be there the next morning.

tzuyu feels disappointed. summertime would go back to being boring, without a pretty woman to keep her job interesting, and then she’d go back to watching the sea for hours until another kid wanted to risk their lives there.

“hey, you!” tzuyu hears the woman’s sultry voice, making her stop in her tracks.

she had to deliver a couple of drinks to another table, but she can’t seem to ignore the call, making her way to the pretty woman and risking to lose a good tip if she took too long there.

“good night! how can i help you?” tzuyu puts on a smile. extra tips was not what she was looking for when it came to her, but tzuyu was still just a waitress. she knew about her limits.

“well…” the woman leans in, elbow on the table, a hand supporting her face. her light brown eyes looked beautiful up close, despite the lack of sun light to enlighten her face. “i’ve already had a few drinks. i shouldn’t drink any more...”

tzuyu loses her breath when she notices the uncovered thighs. with the way the woman crossed her legs, she could see them clearly.

“maybe i can get you something else! i’ll go get the menu for you-” tzuyu rushes to say.

“oh, no, no.” the older woman shakes her head lightly. “i already know what i want. i think you know too.”

tzuyu holds the tray in her hands tighter, afraid she’ll let it fall.

“miss…” tzuyu mutters, flustered. she’d been caught, and while that was embarrassing, what made her flush was the way the woman looked at her, as if tzuyu was her next acquisition. and tzuyu was loving it. “i’m working.”

you’re stupid. tzuyu curses herself inside her head. she was used to girls flirting with her but now grown women, considerably older than her. she even has kids.

“well, then…” the woman smiles, taking the receipt she’d gotten from another waiter. she writes on it with a pen that comes out of her purse, as if she was already prepared to do that, and then she slides the thin paper on the table, towards tzuyu. there is cash under it, and tzuyu’s eyes widen with the amount of money in front of her. “when you’re not working, meet me there. i’m jeongyeon, by the way.”

tzuyu takes it. she wouldn’t refuse it or say it was too much — it was too much, perhaps even more than what she’d receive for working extra hours at the bar, and that’s exactly why she needed it.

tzuyu takes about thirty minutes to find the waiter that had been her workmate throughout the summer, and ten more to convince him to let her go. she argued that the tips would be all his if he did that for her, and offered to work on his place the next night.

finding jeongyeon wasn’t hard at all. the instructions were clear, and all tzuyu had to do was go to the beach, walk for a few minutes, and then she found her.

“you took too long,” jeongyeon remarks. tzuyu sits next to her, nervous but trying to keep her cool. “i saw you looking at me.”

“you’re pretty.” tzuyu mumbles. she was never that nervous to speak to a woman before, but with jeongyeon it was entirely different. “i couldn’t help but look.”

jeongyeon laughs — the sound stirs something up inside tzuyu.

“what a flatterer,” jeongyeon finally looks at her. “do you usually flirt with all of your clients?”

tzuyu smiles coyly. “only you.”

as the anxiousness dissolves and tzuyu gathers up courage, she moves even closer to the woman. jeongyeon doesn’t flinch or attempt to get some distance. that was the whole point anyway, and she knew what tzuyu was about to do.

tzuyu’s lips meet hers in a rushed kiss. jeongyeon kisses her back just as intensely, moaning against her mouth. she lets tzuyu take control at first, enjoying the pace, eventually guiding tzuyu to lie back against the sand.

nobody could see them there. it was dark and the area was private. not many people came to the beach that late in the night.

jeongyeon slowly dominates the kiss, slipping her tongue past tzuyu’s lips, sitting on her lap for a better position, feeling a hardened bulge under her. she laughs against tzuyu’s lips, amused at how easy it was to get her hard, but she doesn’t say a thing about it.

“i’m leaving tomorrow.” jeongyeon breaks their kiss to say it. tzuyu breathes out, lips already swollen, bringing her hand to the older woman’s waist. “think you can make my night worthwhile?”

tzuyu nods vehemently. “it’s all i want to do.”

“good,” a corner of jeongyeon’s lips lift with the answer, offering a half smile, which tzuyu could only see due to the moonlight.

it had been a while since jeongyeon did that, and she can’t waste time. she unbuttons tzuyu’s pants and tzuyu looks down expectantly, watching as the woman manages to pull her shaft out.

she doesn’t pull tzuyu’s pants down, aware of the sand under them, and the opening on the younger’s pants is just enough to free her hard cock, pulsing on jeongyeon’s hands.

jeongyeon bites her lip when she can’t wrap her hand around it entirely, too thick for her to be able to. she brings her hand up and down, as if giving tzuyu a warm up, not that it was needed. she was fully hard and ready, all set for whatever jeongyeon wanted to do with her.

“wait, i have a…” tzuyu stops, letting out a small groan at the warm hand squeezing her shaft. she sinks her hand in her pocket, bringing out a golden square, offering it to jeongyeon.

jeongyeon laughs slyly. “you came prepared. good girl.”

tzuyu shivers at the way jeongyeon calls her. no one had ever treated her like that, and maybe it’s because tzuyu has always been dominant in her relationships. with jeongyeon, an older woman who certainly has had more experiences than her, she feels… small.

jeongyeon rips the package open with her fingers, placing the rubber on tzuyu’s tip. she slides it down slowly, tzuyu twitching as she watches it. jeongyeon takes her panties off quickly after that, not wanting anything in the way of them, keeping it inside tzuyu’s pocket as a little treat for her.

the moment tzuyu feels the heat on top of her shaft, she lets out a pitiful whimper, as if she’d never had felt that. tzuyu has, but other girls who would never compare to jeongyeon, and she’s incredibly worked up at the slightest touch.

jeongyeon moans, rubbing her soaked core against tzuyu’s cock, getting the condom wet with her arousal. the teasing is not just effective on tzuyu, but also on her.

before jeongyeon decides to put it in, tzuyu sneaks her hand between them and slides herself in, getting jeongyeon fully sheathed with her cock, the both of them moaning as tzuyu fills her up.

“so tight,” tzuyu groans, bucking her hips to fit more of her shaft in, impatient.

“so eager,” jeongyeon teases, pulling her skirt higher, letting it sit around her hips.

with her hands on tzuyu’s shoulders, jeongyeon moves back and forth tentatively, wanting to see how far she could take tzuyu. she wasn’t expecting her to be that big, but she was more than glad to take tzuyu in.

riding her was difficult at first. jeongyeon took a few minutes to fully adjust to the size, and even when she couldn’t take it all, tzuyu was pleased. not many people could take her in anyway, and tzuyu knew that.

“fuck,” tzuyu grunts, relishing the tightness, and before she knew it, she had taken jeongyeon off her lap and placed her on her hands and knees.

“excited, aren’t we?” jeongyeon laughs. “the sand…”

“wait,” tzuyu interrupts her, taking her shirt off to put it under jeongyeon’s knees. “better?”

tzuyu goes back inside as soon as jeongyeon is comfortable, taking off abruptly. through all of the week she’d been thinking about that — having the older woman for herself, jealous of the sun because it kissed her body entirely while tzuyu could only watch, wishing to touch her with her own hands.

and now that she finally got what she was looking for, tzuyu would make sure jeongyeon wasn’t wasting her time, promising herself to give her the best summer night.

“fuck!” jeongyeon wails, feeling every inch of tzuyu inside her, instinctively lowering herself down, ass up.

tzuyu’s ego only grew bigger knowing she was able to please her that much, feeling jeongyeon clamping around her, knowing that her legs were trembling because of her. tzuyu brings her fingers to jeongyeon’s core, playing with her clit while she fucked her deep, balls taut as she approached the edge.

the older woman cries out with every snap of tzuyu’s hips, and when she finally comes, tzuyu can’t help but follow her, filling the condom with hot seed, burying herself as deep as she could and spilling all of her load, whining as jeongyeon’s walls milked her length.

tzuyu hesitates to pull out but she has to, the position getting tiring after a while. she pulls away, taking the condom off and tying it up tightly.

jeongyeon pulls her skirt down and sits on the sand, evidently pleased, but her eyes were still dark, the brown fading away as black took over.

“it’s getting chilly here,” jeongyeon comments, cheeks flushed solely from the effort that was taking tzuyu in. “i have an empty room reserved.”

tzuyu smiles, knowing she’d stay up all night and have to work the entire day without enough sleep, but doesn’t dare to decline the offer.

[thelewdpokemanik]

When the RIDICULOUSLY femboyi and adorable Shuichi saihara got casted into "Magical starlight : Kaede akamatsu and the mystery of love" as the main bad guy’s cute henchmen, did he expected his life to turn out as he did~? I mean nowadays he is maried and the trophy hubby to the absurdly thicc famous star, the well known Kaede akamatsu~, but it would be fun to know how he actually ended in this paradise of a situation~

(The lenght, detail, stories and all is up to you friend, also you’re amazing.)

(Thank you @cowedeacumootsu for the pics and the ask. Also YOU'RE amazing <3)

Shuichi was quite nervous, but also excited. Being a detective had never come naturally, but it had come easily, at least. He'd spent his whole life steeped in that world. But acting?

He'd never even thought of it. Not even in his wildest dreams. Never held an interest in it.

But while he'd been on a forced vacation due to his uncle needing to close his agency for a few weeks, he'd stumbled across a poster. 

'Magical Starlight: Kaede Akamatsu and The Mystery Of Love'

It was some sort of magical girl kids show, Shuichi thought. He'd heard of it in passing, caught an advert for it on tv once or twice.

But what caught his eye was the line at the bottom of the poster.

'Open auditions! Amateurs are welcome!'

Shuichi didn't know what possessed him to note down the number. Or call the casting director. Or show up and actually try. Or even worse, what had possessed the casting crew to actually call him back.

But here he was. Dressed in what could only be very charitably called a costume.

He couldn't believe he would be wearing this on live television, much less in a kids' show!

He was still shuffling in place in the changing room, debating the merits of trying to flee when she knocked on the door, making his back shoot up straight.

"Shu-chan~ Are you done changing?" A melodious voice sounded through the door, and Shuichi gulped.

"Y-Yeah…" He found himself answering, and the moment he did, the door was open, letting his co-star in, and making Shuichi blush like a tomato, seeing her in her own costume.

The thicc-as-oatmeal woman was practically spilling out the edges of her tiny magical girl costume. Shuichi's hands trembled slightly as Miss Akamatsu entered the room, her every step making mounds of flesh jiggle temptingly.

She smiled widely when she laid eyes on him, making him shuffle in place, embarrassed. "You look outright delicious, Shu-chan!" She said happily, the slightest hint of a blush coloring her cheeks.

Shuichi choked on his breath as Miss Akamatsu stepped closer and closer to him, making him look up at her. The older woman had at least half a foot on him, and that was before she put on her heels.

"Th-Thanks?" He stuttered, a hand coming up to the brim of his nonexistent hat, to grasp only air and leaving him to simply look down to the ground.

It was hard to not be intimidated when he was in the presence of the Kaede Akamatsu. The woman seemed blessed by the very gods to succeed in whatever she tried her hand at. She used to be a world-renowned pianist, before becoming an acclaimed actress, not to mention her good looks and shining personality.

Miss Akamatsu was simply born to be a star, unlike shy and gloomy Shuichi. But that was why they were here, wasn't it?

"Stop looking so down, Shu-chan~" Miss Akamatsu sing-sang, leaning down to his level and making Shuichi blush even harder at the view of her cleavage she offered. 

He forced his eyes to look up at her, not directly into her eyes of course, lest he loses his voice once more. "S-Sorry, Miss Akamatsu." He apologized.

The blonde pouted. "'Miss Akamatsu'? I'm not that old, you know? Call me Kaede~" She demanded.

Shuichi bashfully nodded. "S-Sure." He said, pointedly not actually using her name, and making the blonde pout even harder. 

He jumped when her delicate hand landed on his shoulder, her perfectly manicured hand teasing his barely-covered skin and giving him goosebumps.

"You'd think someone would show more gratitude when I graciously offer my precious time to help them learn…" she mumbled, making Shuichi's face pale.

"I-I am grateful!" He insisted, his hands coming up in front of his chest as if to surrender. But he truly was. 

Shuichi might've passed the audition, but it was quite clear that he was lagging behind the rest of the crew, justifiably so. 

And that was when Miss Akamatsu approached him and offered to help him learn his lines and practice with her.

"If it weren't for your help, I probably wouldn't stand a chance… Of course, I'm grateful." Shuichi ended up mumbling, a blush dusting his cheeks as he stared at the tip of his boots.

He heard Miss Akamatsu hum in the back of her throat, before her hand grabbed hold of his chin in her fingers, making Shuichi jump, eyes wide in bewilderment. She slowly forced him to look up at her, the silky smooth skin of her fingers tickling Shuichi as she did.

Shuichi's eyes were caught in the blonde's as she stared down at him, making his heart beat against his ribcage faster and faster.

"So? What do we say?" Miss Akamatsu asked leadingly, making Shuichi's mouth dry out.

"Th-Thank you-"

"'Thank you' who?"

Shuichi was drowning in twin pools of blue. "Thank you, Kaede…" he said, feeling out of breath and making Kaede giggle.

Her hand patted the top of his head, making him blush once again. "Was that so hard, Shu-chan?" She said, obviously pleased with herself, before spinning on her heel and making the detective blink as eye contact was finally broken. “Now come on! We haven’t got all night~”

As she spoke, she left Shuichi’s changing room, leaving him blinking and staring stupidly at his closed door. The detective let out a shuddering breath, and adjusted his suddenly too-tight bottom, though thankfully, they didn’t let anything appear through them, which honestly surprised him.

Pleasantly so, of course. The last thing he wanted was for Miss- for Kaede to think he was some kind of pervert.

He breathed in deep, trying to calm his nerves, and stepped out, following Kaede on the empty set.

The studio was empty, the last employee having long since left for the night, but Kaede had somehow managed to get them permission to use the studio for Shuichi to practice. And in the middle of the half-constructed throne room set, her legs slightly spread and her hands on her hips, her shoulders squared and her chest thrust out, Kaede stood, smiling at him.

Shuichi blushed as he couldn’t stop himself from ogling her, but if Kaede noticed, she made no mention of it. “Are you ready to begin, Shu-chan?” She asked instead as Shuichi stepped closer, though he stopped maybe half-a-dozen steps away, where the script wanted him to be. In front of the imposing throne, between it and Kaede.

He took in a shaky breath, before nodding with as much certainty as he could muster, which wasn’t all that much.

Kaede licked her lips in response. “Then begin whenever you’re ready, cutie~”

Shuichi shivered, his blush redoubling in intensity. He was glad his mask was covering his face right now. But he tried to chase the fantasies Kaede kept inspiring in him, and closed his eyes, focusing on his character.

While he was new at acting, memorizing his lines was hardly a challenge for the detective. 

He gave Kaede his best frown, and posed dramatically, ignoring the embarrassment the pose provoked in him. “S-So you’ve come, Kaede!” He declared with a voice that was intended to be confident. Though he powered through. “If you think that I’ll allow you to reach the Heart of Hate without a fight, then you’re dead wrong!” 

Kaede chuckled behind a raised hand, making Shuichi falter. “Um-”

But before he could point out her mistake(?), she pointed at him dramatically. “It is you who is dead wrong, Shu-chan!” That wasn’t his name in the script!? Was Kaede improvising!? “I’m here for something much more important than that!” She declared, taking a step forward and making Shuichi step back in response. 

His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, trying to come up with something to say. “I-Is that so?” He questioned, torn between asking Kaede for an explanation and simply going with the flow of the experienced actress. “A-And, what is that?”

Kaede smiled even wider as she continued to walk toward a retreating Shuichi. Or at least he had been before he bumped into the throne. And before he could readjust his course, Kaede closed those few final meters between the two. Her arms fell on the armrests on either side of him, trapping him between her and the seat, leering down at him.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She asked, a hungry gleam in her eyes that made Shuichi gulp. 

“Love~”

“OOOOOOHHH~” Shu-chan howled like an animal, his hips flush against Kaede’s chest, cumming once more against her softness.

“Fufufu~” Kaede sultrily chuckled. Shuichi was bent over, leaning over the throne’s seat, his musky cock trapped beneath him in her large cleavage. She tightened it like a vice with her elbows, and held onto Shuichi’s hips with her hands, not allowing him the range to actually pull his cock out.

Shui-chan had been cute before, but like this, with his cute butt in her face and his balls twitching as she milked him, he was positively delicious~

“Go on, Shu-chan~ You can shoot one more for me, can’t you?” Kaede teased the poor boy, making him whine, but the moment she tightened the grip her chest had around his cock, it transformed into a moan, and his hips began bouncing once more, his balls clapping against the top of her chest.

She licked her lips, before catching one of them in her mouth, moaning at its salty taste, and making Shu-chan cry out, and redouble his efforts at cumming. She thoroughly bathed it in her saliva, savoring its musky taste.

Honestly, such a dangerous cock shouldn’t be attached to such a cute boi~ No doubt any other woman would’ve had her brain melting out of her pussy from the smell alone, but Kaede wasn’t just anyone.

She’d teach this naughty cock just who was top dog.

It didn’t take long for her to feel the nut twitch energetically on her tongue as Shuichi flooded her tits with yet another cumshot. They hadn’t lost any of their volume or thickness, even after three other just-as-voluminous ejaculations.

Kaede would have to pull out the big guns. Not that it would be a big sacrifice on her part~

She let go of Shu-chan’s hips just as he pulled back, surprising him and freeing his length unexpectedly, and used the little space he’d left to sneak around him, dropping herself on the throne in front of him.

She could see the haze of pleasure in his eyes drowning out all of his other thoughts, and chuckled once more. Adorable~

He whined at the lost pleasure and almost immediately began trying to climb her and resume his mindless thrusting, but Kaede’s hand on his chest was enough to stop him. He stared up at her with his eyes full of begging, at least until Kaede spread her legs, revealing her drenched pussy to him.

The effect was immediate. Shu-chan's pleasure-drunk brain suddenly realized that, more than cum, he could breed~ And it didn't wait a moment to do exactly that, hurriedly pulling Kaede's sticky panties to the side, before plunging his thick cock inside of her depths, making her moan throatily. 

His wild thrusting became even wilder as he battered her insides, desperate to fill her up with his seed, to mark her as his forevermore. Of course, Kaede's tight love tunnel was far from helping him calm down. His cock was choked by her warm wetness, her muscles spasming around him as he pulled her first orgasm of the night from her.

Kaede smiled sultrily as she observed Shu-chan's pleasure-distorted face from behind her fluttering eyes. His tongue was hanging from his mouth like a wild dog's, and, well, she simply couldn't resist that invitation.

She leaned down to meet him, and quickly stole his lips and kissed him hungrily, wrestling his tongue into submission, for while Shuichi might have the energy and wildness of a beast, Kaede knew how to tame it with ease, and forced him to dance to her tune as she stared into his rolling eyes.

She broke the kiss for a moment, sending one of her hands to his ass, and grabbing a handful of his soft cheek, encouraging him to go even faster, even harder, before forcing him to swallow her next moan.

She bit his lip unexpectedly, tugging at it slightly and making Shu-chan gasp.

"You're mine." She growled, her teeth working his lip over. 

"Your body's mine. Your heart's mine. Your cum's mine~ and I want it! Give it to me! Cum!" Kaede demanded, meeting each of Shu-chan's thrusts with her own, and making the boy cry out in pleasure as she did. 

And eventually, Shu-chan's resolve broke, as he emptied his balls into her, making Kaede gasp under him as her belly was filled with his warm seed, again and again, until the excess poured out from around his cock.

Shu-chan's body fell atop Kaede's as his strength left him, melting into her as his cock throbbed inside of her.

"Yours. Yours yours yours yours-" He was mumbling under his breath and making Kaede's own heart melt.

"What a good boi you are, Shu-chan~" She praised, squeezing him against her as she did, and making Shu-chan moan once more, though he didn't so much as twitch a muscle.

He was tired it seemed~ Well, Kaede would just have to make sure he slept comfortably, wouldn't she? And, well…

She'd deal with the mess in the morning. Or maybe she'd just steal Shu-chan away to her home and deal with the director's complaints the day afterward, or even the day after that.

She wouldn't allow Shu-chan to leave until he'd satisfied her, or maybe not even then.

She could use a cute little hubby after all~

[chososheart]

Paring: Eren Jaeger x f!Reader

CW: NSFW, smut, fingering (f), penetration (f) masturbation (m) and (f), stablished relationship, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, ball sucking??? eren’s desperate for you <33

word count: 1.0k

Currently thinking thoughts about Eren waking up with the biggest, hardest boner he’s gotten, like, the type where his balls physically hurt and he’s instantly reaching for you under the covers but you’re not there.

He gets frustrated and thinks it’ll be easier to get rid of it by himself instead of looking for you since you’re most likely out.

It’s weird because he’s not really in the mood. He isn’t unbelievably horny, he just feels good. So to try and get himself in that mindset, he goes on his phone and opens the little photo album he has of the collection of nude pictures you’ve sent him.

He clicked on the first one in sight, a simple picture of your cleavage. You took it while running errands. You thought your tits looked extra good on that day and casually sent it to him knowing he’d get hard in whatever public place he was in at the time.

The core memory of getting that picture, plus, the picture had his breathing heavy as he palmed himself through his sweats. He slides his thumb across the screen and has a picture of you looking at your camera with the sweetest doe eyes, ones he always falls for, and your breasts laying plump against your chest. You were in bed, clearly bored when sending it to him.

He starts slow, he lowers his sweats enough for his dick to come out. He spread the precum on his tip all over himself. He took the extra help of a lubricant and began to drag his tightly shut fist up and down.

Slide, the next picture: a picture of your foggy bathroom mirror and what resembled a piece of pure art at the center of the foggy corners—or that’s how he likes to think of it. Your figure was fully visible, each curve and dip making the now lust-crazed boy go wild. Your soaked hair dripped water on your skin, which glowed, as you had just gotten out of a steamy shower.

“Ah—fuck,” he whispered under his breath, only audible for him. He swirled his thumb around his tip and closed his eyes, envisioning you in front of him. The thought of finding you to solve his problem ran through his mind, but he’s sure it’ll be over in no time.

Until he changed the picture.

Eren slid his finger and was met with a video. One you sent him when you were home alone and bored. On that day, Eren went out to catch up with a few friends, 20 minutes into the reunion and he had to leave. You had him leave while stuttering, “I- I’m sorry, it’s my girl. Sh- she needs me. It’s urgent.” You left him tripping over his shoes with the hurry he walked in, and bumping into people on his way back home.

The video was of you laid down in bed, head thrown back and eyes watery as you circled on your clit and tried fingering yourself through the ache of your cunt; but your fingers just weren’t big enough :( “Eren, I need you so bad,” you whispered in the sweetest voice. “Please, please fuck me, ren, I- I need you.” Your voice was now clear and determined, but it trembled with want, with need.

Though it was his second time watching the video, his reaction was same as his first time watching it. He stopped what he was doing, pulled his sweets up, and ran out of your shared room. He entered the living room/kitchen area, looking from left to right when he saw you. You were rinsing something in the sink, your back facing him, and completely clueless of what you had done to him. He quickly walked to where you stood and placed his arms on the edge of the marbled counter, caging you in.

You jumped after feeling his presence behind you and laughed, “What’s up, ren?”

Eren dropped his head forward and placed his forehead in the little spot on your neck that meets with your shoulder. He likes it there.

You notice his lack of response and get worried. You dip your hand in his chocolate-like hair and scratch his scalp, “What’s wrong?” you said.

He lets a deep breath out and grinds his cock against you. “Need you so bad.”

Oh.

“H- how long have you been like this?” You swallow.

You don’t know if it’s the heat that’s currently radiating off of his skin into yours that causes this, but you get so hot—feel so hot, your neck itches. You feel chills racing down your spine and butterflies having a swarm fest in your stomach. It’s crazy how quickly this boy can change your mood; make your body react in the ways he wants, needs.

“So long,” he almost let out a sob of desperation after inhaling your scent. He thinks of it as the perfect scent. It’s earthy and sweet and makes him feel at home and warm.

“God, I tried getting rid of it.” He planted a wet kiss on your now-fired skin, “I swear.” Another kiss on your neck, “I need you so bad.” His breath that fanned your skin and had you arching your back, desperate to feel him poke you.

Eren grinned his cock against you and roamed his trembling hands around your body, squeezing anything he could while you rubbed your ass against him more. It didn’t take long for him to shove you toward the marbled island by the nape and discard your shorts. He set your underwear aside and went in with one hard and steady thrust.

A broken moan left your lips and you kept your eyes tightly shut. While Eren, on the other hand, threw his head back and squeezed on your hips. He began thrusting and splitting you open on his cock. It felt so, so good. He fucked you so well, he let out the sweetest moans against your ear and the tastiest love bites on your neck.

He’d shamelessly moan, “You feel so good—fuck—too good.”

He’d say, “That’s it—that’s my good girl.” When you squeezed him in. “My favorite girl, my prettiest girl—fuck—you’re so good to me.”

And after he came, he’d look at his cum seeping out of you, sliding down your thighs and mumble a quick, “Holy fuck.” Before sliding back in and fucking his cum into you. The extra lubrication helping him fuck you as quickly and ruthlessly as he desired.

He’d have you suck on his balls and open, “That pretty mouth of yours,” wide enough for him to cum in; but he’d purposely miss and get it everywhere but your mouth.

He’d take a moment to chill down, give you a quick peck, help you get cleaned, and fall back asleep on the couch. <33

-

Merry Christmas, hoes <33

Tags: @the-princess-button @too-phased

Honestly don’t know what came over me??? Couldn’t get it out of my head, so, enjoy!!

Imma go back into hibernation now :))

-

CHOSOSCUMSLUTT 2021 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.

[genshinboys]

Zhongli x Childe - POLYAMOROUS HCS

WARNING: NSFW, GAY CONTENT, FEM READER / ZHONGLI / CHILDE POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP

„Who are you?”

The box with personal belongings feels heavy in your hands once you not so gracefully stumble into the office of who you presume to be your future co-workers. You were given their names, the number of the room, the exact floor you should be heading to, some details about not getting lost on the way out of the elevator as the corridors here are long and lead to a dozen other rooms and offices, which you most likely not want to become acquainted with on your first day of work. So far, life has taught you to take things one step at a time, and you are infallibly so, a zealous supporter of that claim.

However, to be quite frank, no amount of prior instruction or fair share of warning could prepare you for the disastrously handsome two men currently curiously ogling you from behind their desks. 

Were they not informed of your arrival? 

The brunet adjusts his glasses by pushing them further up his nose with a long finger. The documents piling right next to his elbow do a very bad job at hiding his perfect-side profile, even though the stack mounts high enough to reach his shoulders. His gaze is measuring and observant. The black rim of his glasses creates a stark contrast to the shimmering depth of gold hues alerted by your presence. Yet, he remains professionally calm, motionless as these ancient marble statues. 

The other one - the blue-eyed ginger - jumps to his feet excitably. The said eyes flip through your whole person, devoting more than an acceptable amount of time to inspect your cleavage. He raises his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth moves upwards as well, and he hums approvingly once he stands firm before you. He is tall. Too tall. The jingle jangle of the trinkets in your box intensifies as your clammy hands begin to shake when you attempt to hide from him behind the content of the box.

„I-I’m your new co-editor.”

Your stuttering, treacherous mouth transforms the sentence into a slur of weird sounds. 

„Oh-oh?”

The ginger muses in a pleasant hum that thrills you and makes things swirl in your stomach in an odd way.

„That cannot be.”

Yeah, that simply cannot be, as has the blue-eyed walking perfection just retorted. With all due respect, all these years of being a columnist for different newspapers and you still haven’t met a single man that could tick off all the boxes for what you would call a handsome or potentially interesting male. Well, maybe your ex. But, that’s a long story. And now, just like that, you meet not one but two (!) of the most dashing men you have ever seen in your life who are supposed to be your fellow journalists? Bollocks.

You take a wobbly step back to check the number of the room as more distrustful thoughts swarm your brain. Everything seems to be just fine, though? The blue eyes narrow on you when you continue your monkey dance with the overflowing box in your hold.

„Listen, pretty girl. If you’re yet another lost lamb looking for the model agency - it is the building right across the street. Not this one, alright?”

He makes a ‘shoo away’ gesture with his hands, sighing audibly. The contagious happy vibes radiating from him just moments ago suddenly went out of the window.

„I’m sorry b-b---,”

You interrupt, but he is relentless.

„It’s all fine. I know, I know. Being all pretty like that it’s only fair you didn’t get luckier in the big brains department. Don’t worry. There are roughly a few girls a week that come knocking at our offices’ doors lost and confused. But hey, at least this time you really are cute.”

You feel his fingers brazenly sneaking up your shoulders to lead you out.

„Have you just offended me?”

You dig your heels into the floor to hold your ground steadily. The man smirks, amused by the resistance on your side. Maybe you’re not that silly after all.

„More like complimented your looks.”

You briefly wonder if slapping the colleague’s face during your first meeting is the right way to hit it off at the new workplace. He grins wider as if he was a psychic reading your thoughts. You shoot him a pointed stare, which does nothing to tame the oozing from him smugness. Fine, then, a slap it is.

„Childe, I beg of you. Don’t demoralize our future..., erm, partner. We won’t be getting another one.”

 You’re held back by the other male, admittedly just as handsome albeit seemingly less of a dickhead after the quick yet thorough consideration you have just silently done in your head.

„Easy there, Mr Zhongli. I’m merely checking if she has what it takes to adjust to our line of work.”

Son of a---, you curse the living shit out of him, Childe, or whatever his ridiculously stupid name is.

„Your father will not be happy if she hands in the resignation like the others did.”

The fine brunet melancholically lifts himself from his leather chair, chastising the ginger male with practised accuracy. Uh-huh. The good and bad cop syndrome. You get it now. Not only their beauty contrasts like night and day, but so does their behaviour.

Childe’s smug smile disappears quickly only to be replaced with a frown and pouty lips when the perhaps just slightly older man crosses his arms on the chest, opting to stand in a hairbreadth distance from the two of you. Childe stiffens, eyes roll to the back of his head at being so openly put in place by the disapproving man. There is some argument going on between these two, or more like Mr Zhongli talking to the ginger-head as if he was reasoning with an actual child(e). No pun intended.

In such close quarters, their handsome features appear to be even more surreal. You blink and blink, thinking that maybe if you blink hard enough, they will stop being so picture-perfect, and your eyes will finally spot some flaws. Ha, how naive. 

Mr Zhongli is well versed and classy. That much you can tell despite the numbness of your limbs and the increasing fogginess in your awed brain. Even if Mr Zhongli is older than that bratty little shit, it does nothing to take away his godly-like appearance. It roots you to the spot and makes you want to stare at him as if he was a deity. You would be actually ready to bet your monthly wages that the guy was indeed some sort of a god in one of his previous lives.

„Childe, now, take that box from our guest and let’s properly introduce ourselves.”

It’s not even an excessive request, just a regular act of seemliness and well-accepted conduct of behaviour, but Childe scoffs. He’d be oh-so happier if he could tease you a little bit more. Nevertheless, he turns to you, face pretty much still very arrogant despite getting an earful from Mr Zhongli. So vain. How can such a pompous bastard be so attractive? His fingers brush over yours when he assuredly retrieves the box from your shaky hold. With a final wink directed at your flustered self, he spins on his heel to trudge towards the only empty desk in the office. 

„Here, doll. Your humble quarters.”

He drops the box on the desk and extends his arm to show you to your new workplace. It is undeniably an upgrade from your previous squeaky chair, and an old scratched, terribly battered with the flow of time computer. It all looks so expensive and modern. You once again question the stroke of luck that has brought you to this place today. Was it the fate making amends to you? Right about the damn time, if you were to be asked. 

It certainly wasn’t the nicest of experiences to be cheated on by your fiancé, who also happened to be the chief editor of the scandal-seeking tabloid you were previously writing for. You broke up with him and decided to move on quickly. For some reason, you didn’t struggle much with finding a new job. It still seems a bit fishy - the fact that you were essentially hired after the first meeting with the owner of this weekly newspaper. It’s a renowned and well-established Liyuean periodical, one you were always admiring and would not dare to dream to work for.

Now, that you look at the handsome youth, he does somehow bear resemblance to the man who interviewed you before. There is also something weird about the way he speaks, something distinctively foreign, but also not completely new as you are positive you must have already heard it, possibly while speaking to the owner of this newspaper. You know he is of Sneznayhan origin. Are you going to be working with his son? Looks like it. With him and his ostensibly handsome, but much more sensible sidekick.

„You have to forgive Childe. He tends to get a little bit too..., enthusiastic at times. Especially that the prospect of working with a new, however extremely promising colleague is in fact, thrilling. Even for me.”

Golden pupils riffle through you. A small smile lurks somewhere behind the long and shiny strand of hair that frames his visage, but he keeps it at bay, fishing for your reaction. Promising? What does he exactly mean by that? And why is his presence so strong that you feel like your legs are set in stone, unable to move away from him?

Seeing that he has managed to more or less win you over with his soft-spoken eloquence, he presses on. Both of you choose to remain ignorant to the way Childe has allowed himself to rummage through your belongings. With a clatter, items are being dropped to the desk as the younger male busies himself with unpacking you.

„Excuse that appalling faux pas. It shall not repeat itself. My name is Zhongli. I’m a humble co-writer, a close associate of Childe, whom, I trust, you must have already recognised as the owner’s son. It just so happens we’ve been rather weighed down by the staggering amount of work lately.”

He makes it a point to nod his head at the never-ending pile of documents on his and Childe’s desks.

„With the rise of popularity that we’ve been enjoying, Childe’s father has concluded that we’d need more capable hands to write and edit articles for our beloved newspaper. Hence, your presence here today. It makes me very glad if I may be so bold. I’ve been quite impressed by some of your articles. The choice of words - exquisite. I immediately recommended you as the most adequate candidate for this position.”

The handsome man rambles, and his voice flows smoothly, like honey pours into your heart, occasionally leaving you battling a shiver of excitement when he hits a particularly low tone. You are afraid to breathe, not wanting him to stop the pleasant tirade that has effectively pushed you into a shivering limbo state.

„Who the hell is that?”

Childe groans in a somewhat accusatory manner He has picked up a photo frame, and it dangles in the air when he questions further.

„Don’t tell me it’s your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t try to hide the look of disgust on his face when he gives the photo another glance over with his unimpressed eyes. He shifts his gaze to you, expectant.

„Well, no, no. It’s my ex.”

Childe smirks devilishly, looking rather relieved at the word ex.

You wave your hands in the air, embarrassed. How did the photo end up in the box anyway? It’s not like you packed it there deliberately or knowingly. Whatever. Your eyebrows pinch, and you give out a weak sound of helplessness at the haunting you now events from the previous month. 

„So why the hell is he still in the frame, in this box?”

The air is heavy with tension when Childe waits but only a few moments for your answer before he moves to the window and boldly throws the photo out.

„We don’t collect rubbish here, girlie.”

Zhongli clears his throat to fill the awkward silence that follows.

„Well, I suppose we could get you a nicer frame, right? It didn’t really seem to match the décor of the office.”

The brunet reasons with the fingertips gripping his chin.

„That would be a nice welcoming gift. How about we take a photo now to commemorate our meeting?”

Zhongli smiles fondly. The sweet fragrance of silk flowers tinged with a heavier musky scent enter your nostrils as the man shimmies closer to you. His eyes gently ask for permission to take your smaller hand in his and lead you to the desk where Childe is wasting no time, phone ready in his hand and the camera settings adjusted.

„Fine.”

You croak out weirdly.

The one step at a time approach does seem to be a bit of a rusty concept now.

The days in the office go by quickly. They become warmer and warmer with the spring sunshine flooding through the large glass windows right onto the surface of your and your new colleagues’ desks. Similarly, these warmer and longer days see about a change in the relationship between you and these two handsome men as it gradually thaws, like the last drifts of snow. 

And although the beginnings might have been difficult, Childe does not seem to be half as bad as he made himself out to be on the first meeting. The urge to slap his face is also not as frequent and not nearly as powerful as it used to be. Well, he still has his full-jerk moments, but overall it is all bearable.

ღ He’d bring you coffee, every day by the nature of habit, even though he himself might be not the biggest fan of the bitter taste. He is bound to spruce it up with a little ‘you’re welcome, doll’ before he opens the lid for you and begins to blow on the piping hot beverage to make sure you won’t burn yourself while taking the first rejuvenating sip.

ღ He’ll absolutely not forget about the custom brewed tea from the finest and fanciest blends he could lay his hands on while frequenting the premium tea shops scattered all over Liyue. He’d brew it himself in the tiny kitchen, located not so far away from your shared office. Is it a coincidence? Likely not, as you later discovered - Zhongli is an avid fan of tea, and Childe oftentimes disappears behind the kitchenette doors to quickly prepare one for him when the older man looks rather depleted by the long lines of text.

ღ He might not be the best tea brewer, as the title without a doubt belongs to Mr Zhongli himself, but he will do his best while following the instructions so often mused out loud by the older man. The soft smile on Zhongli’s face when he is handed the deliciously smelling tea made by none other but the proud ginger? A priceless sight to witness, and you’d always end up feeling hot all over your body no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

„Childe, Dear, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

„You always say the same thing, Zhongli.”

„But I firmly believe it to be true, Childe.”

ღ He also quite quickly picked up on your sweet tooth and has ever since abused that weakness of yours by toting around various types of confectionery in the roomy confines of his briefcase. He’d bribe you with some of them when you turn a little bit sour due to his constant teasing. He can’t help it, though. He finds your reactions sweeter than any candy he’s ever tasted in his life.

„Don’t be angry, Y/N. It was just an innocent joke.”

He whines like a teenage boy. Your cheeks turn red when you realise how borderline lewd he sounds, intentionally or not. It’s quite impressive how his voice can go from dark and menacing to innocent and cute on a whim. It’s like the man has a split-personality syndrome, and you never know which of these you will have to take on.

„There is nothing innocent about pinching my buttocks, idiot.”

There comes a choked chuckle from the direction of Zhongli’s desk, but he quickly drowns out the sound by rustling the newsprint.

„I guess when you say it like that, it does sound a little bit..., bad. But, here, how about some candy as an apology? I did buy more of these chocolate coated plums you enjoyed so much.”

He then looks at you with these ocean-blue eyes as the skin around them crinkles adorably.

ღ Childe is a wealthy man. Stinking rich type of wealthy man, too. You would be a liar if you didn’t admit that such a situation doesn’t come with its obvious perks. He drives a pitch-black Bugatti. He drives it with one hand on the steering wheel while the other arm hangs out of the window. Childe always used to drive with Zhongli sitting next to him, but now doesn’t mind at all when you take his usual spot while the charming brunet reads the book on the back seat. 

ღ He wears pitch-black sunglasses that match his car and the tight distressed jeans, clinging to his plump ass like a second skin. Not that you were checking him out, or anything. Although, as meaty as his ass looks, Zhongli’s is arguably even rounder. You might have even seen Childe pinching that peachy bum while offering to open the car door for Mr Zhongli. You turned your eyes away. In fact, you always do when the two close associates act in ways that go beyond the dictionary definition of associates term.

„Aren’t you in an exceptionally good mood today, Childe?”

The brunet lures with a husky timbre, disguising the whole scene behind the false pretence of a friendly exchange between colleagues. Two rip-off artists with terrible acting skills, on top of that. The younger man grins wider than the sun.

„How can I not with such good company?”

And then Childe freezes you in place with his eyes shifting their focus to your flustered person as you shrink away from the familiar grin plastered on his face.

„Most lovely company, indeed, Dear. We’ve been blessed by good fortune like never before.”

Mr Zhongli’s acknowledgement is sudden and equal in bluntness to Childe’s blabbering mouth. The rich amber of his irises glimmers in the warm autumnal shades that dis-empower you further as he proceeds to inspect you with rising interest. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say that there is a tell-tale sign of a small smirk forming on his handsome features, but he swiftly simmers it down. 

„May I?”

He walks up to you and offers for you to wrap your arm around his, which you do, albeit it feels as if the move itself took your whole strength away.

„Childe, we should stop for some cooler drink on our way to the office. Y/N seems a bit flushed.”

Childe tilts his head like a cat towards you.

„Poor little thing, must be the hot weather, isn’t it?”

ღ Speaking of habits, you’ve developed quite a few over these couple of months of intense bonding with your fellow article writers. One of such customs are the gym escapades that leave you out of breath, oftentimes not because of the tough exercises, but more like the sight of the ginger flexing his muscles in the barbell bent-over row. His back is broad, thighs wound up so tight they seem harder than a rock. He’s also very likely to drop his t-shirt somewhere on the floor between the sets. Eyes invariably checking up on you, with a ‘she’s here with me’ death glare fixed on any curious male eyes within Childe’s sniffing distance. Childe is on the watch. And what if Mr Zhongli chooses to come along with you? Oh, good manners be damned. The hawk-eye will hunt down every single one of them.

„Hey, watch it.”

Unceremoniously, Childe threatens with a finger pointed at the staring-a-little-bit-too-much guy. Mr Zhongli smirks, content with the younger’s vehemence. He might have even chuckled, but you can’t hear well because of the thumping music coming from the speakers. He beckons Childe over with his commanding look, and needless to say, the ginger would almost trip over his legs with how fast he wants to fulfil the brunet’s wish. This time Mr Zhongli is definitely stifling a laugh before he places his palm on the back of Childe’s neck and pulls him in. Is Childe blushing? The older man stops at Childe’s earlobe, whispering something right into the ginger’s ear and then, suddenly, both of them turn to you?

Woah.

Gallivanting blue pupils pursue you together with the amused amber of Zhongli’s dragon-like eyes. Childe nods in agreement as if he was signing a pact with this mischievous dragon. A signature smirk. Childe struts towards your slightly agitated little body and starts playfully tickling your sides. It tickles so much. Everything in your belly tightens while you attempt not to topple over, still holding your weights.

„Childe stop!”

He doesn’t, of course. The weights promptly disappear from your hands with the sudden arrival of Mr Zhongli. He is careful, protective. He’d never let you get hurt in the process. Especially that he is the mastermind of this shameless attack. Your hands drop to Childe’s, seeking defence, wanting to push his roving hands away. Alas, the man is stronger, giggling and puffing hot air with his face glued to your neck. He swathes your body with his sturdy, bigger one until you feel like there is no room to breathe, and you’re basically pinned together. Wide-eyed, squirming and almost crying from how much your body is twitching under Childe’s prodding fingers, a plea makes it out of your tight chest.

„Mr Zhongli, please help! Please!”

Zhongli sucks in a breath, palpably going through some kind of an internal conflict. The gold in his eyes flares with friskiness you’ve never suspected him of being capable of.

„Help?”

The towering over you brunet queries while your panting and gasps intensify. It’s either he derives pleasure from watching you suffer under Childe’s playful touch, or he is just completely clueless.

„And why should I, my Dearest?”

You make a small noise of confusion before breaking into more helpless cries and whimpers when Zhongli takes your hands in his and forces them together, pressing them close to his chest so that Childe can have better access to your tummy. It’s not the - good, always helpful and caring Mr Zhongli. You feel betrayed. You look up at him with wounded, glossy from laughing eyes, only to find the man staring at you with a misty gaze. 

„Forgive me, Little Crumb.”

Zhongli whispers huskily.

Holy shit. 

Has he just called you a new pet name?

ღ You cling to the handrail as you climb the slippery steps leading to the floor where your office is situated. The cleaning lady sure is very liberal with the amount of detergents and soap water she uses to rub this vast surface clean.

„Fuck!”

This - and other curses that would turn even the oldest sailor’s ears red - echo in the stairway as the flight from your annoying admirer ensues. He is one of the Sports columnist, and ever since they were transferred to the ground floor, your evasive skills have proven to be insufficient to wiggle your butt out of his advances. He’d always be waiting for you next to the elevator, hands in his pockets, a cocky, absolutely disgusting ‘hello pretty!’ when he fishes you out from the bunch of people at the entrance. It’s gotten so bad that you’ve decided to say goodbye to the lift services, befriending the never-ending flights of stairs.

This time, however, the creep must have seen through your escape route and immediately launched from his desk to chase after you.

Hence, your current predicament. Regretfully, the expensive red high heels that have been gifted to you by Childe despite your fierce protests don’t help in improving the situation for you. You turn your head back, revolted. The puffing and gasping speed up as the man is essentially nipping at your heels. ‘That’s it’ - you think to yourself when you take an awkward, big lunge forward to counter the last two steps, but sadly, you trip!

Talk about timing.

Waggling your arms in the air, your body free-falls as the surroundings whirr before your eyes wildly, so you squeeze them shut, preparing for the imminent disaster. But, the humiliating tumble doesn’t happen as you land into something much softer than the ground. The silk flowers’ scent blended with musk and wood notes warmly hug your body as two strong arms circle around your waist.

„Mr Zhongli?”

His features soften at your adorable reaction of relief mixed with gratitude, but he holds you close, indulgently digging his fingers into the supple flesh of your hips. He does it a bit unknowingly, too caught up in the way you look back into his glinting with secret emotions eyes.

„Little Crumb, I told you so many times to be more careful.”

„I’m so sorry, Mr Zhongli.”

„I know you are, Dear.”

He reassures you, hands move up and down your back, and the sensation sinks into the crevices of your senses, making you want to strip for the man and beg him for more. Woah. Hold up. What are you even thinking?

You don’t have time to ponder upon the lewdness of your thoughts as your knight in shining armour stiffens a bit. His dragon eyes pointedly stare at something or rather someone behind your back. The grip on your hip tightens.

„Mr X, it seems to me you must have got lost. Shouldn’t you be working on the ground floor together with other sports columnists?”

Zhongli asks, but clearly isn’t interested in the answer when he straight away ignores the man, scooping you closer to safely lead you to your office.

Needless to say, you’ve never heard of Mr X after that incident.

Having walked into the newspaper office so late at night, you didn’t expect to bump into anybody. You had to come back here for some of the documents. You wanted to have a closer look at them over the weekend. But, one step out of the elevator and you’re left frozen, legs giving out the closer you get to the... scandalous sounds coming from the depths of your office.

Your heart goes berserk, pounding like a drum in your chest in anticipation of what is about to happen; what you’re about to see once you peek into the office.

Moans, gasps? Wait a minute, have you just heard a slap?

On your tippy-toes, you creep to the door that was left slightly ajar. You crane your neck, sneaking a shy little look inside. Cheeks burn so badly, the heat pulses in unison with your galloping heart. 

Shit.

Your trembling hand shoots up to your mouth, hysterically fighting the whimper that nearly, oh so nearly flies past your lips. The empty bag for documents rolls off your shoulder and it silently falls to the ground.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised you so much. Your co-workers; these two hot men half-naked and kissing each other ferociously, their bodies tangled, brushing against each other with dire urgency.

You stare at the bewitching scene in dead-like silence. The crimson cheeks of yours continue prickling with heat, which faster than lightning shoots down your body, nestling low beneath the belly button.

Childe whines pitifully when his head bounces off the wall, but he does not seem to care too much, his hands immediately dragging Zhongli close to his body. The younger one pulls him in for another kiss that is arguably more teeth than a tongue, moaning louder than before when the brunet pins him against the cold brick surface. He holds him patiently, tenaciously so, despite Childe’s writhing hips. He fumbles with the older’s belt, wailing lamentably when he cannot get to Zhongli’s cock right this instant. Abruptly, Zhongli parts their lips with a wet sound.

„Don’t be impatient, Dear. You’ll end up being hurt.”

Childe, as if the man’s words fell on deaf ears, tugs at the fabric, pulls incessantly until finally, finally Zhongli’s cock springs free. He gapes at the man’s length with drool dripping down his chin, which is promptly wiped dry by Zhongli’s thumb swiping tenderly across Childe’s open lips. You swallow hard, suddenly reminded of the saliva gathering in your mouth. Zhongli is massive. Perfectly shaped, a thick, bulging slab of meat. Your thighs feel wet with the slick seeping through your panties when you squeeze them shut, seeking any kind of friction. 

„I swear if you don’t do something, anything I’ll---,”

Childe’s bruised lips turn into an o-shape when Zhongli pumps two fingers in. The ginger moans lewdly, quickly accommodating to the burn of long fingers pushing down his throat. It’s in fact nothing when you compare it to Zhongli’s monstrous hardness.

„You will what, Childe?”

The brunet says lowly, enthralled by the way his lover meticulously coats his fingers with almost religious worship glinting in his ocean-blue eyes.

„Be a good boy, and I shall reward you.”

Childe’s sucking intensifies at that promise. Restless hips piston into Zhongli’s with renewed zeal. Zhongli hums in approval, withdrawing the glistening fingers from the ginger’s eager mouth.

„P-Please, just hurry up, p-please, na-ah!”

Childe begs, having forsaken his pride. His usually suave voice cracks the moment Zhongli reaches for his naked thigh and hooks it over his shoulder upon kneeling before him.

„Undo your buttons. I want to see your chest.”

Your stomach drops to your knees when Childe just rips the shirt, sending the buttons flying all over the office to fulfil Zhongli’s selfish request. With Childe’s underwear being swiftly pushed down to his ankles by Zhongli’s roving hands, both men are now naked right in front of your eyes.

If possible, your body flushes even more. The tension in your belly forms a tight knot that forces you to continue rubbing your thighs together. It’s not enough, though. No matter how much you press them together, it keeps tingling inside. 

„F-Fuck, Zhongli!”

Childe curses, sobbing pleas are now continuously torn out of his dry throat with Zhongli’s lips tightly wrapped around his throbbing dick. Saliva-coated fingers prod at the ginger’s entrance, making him lift his leg higher to feel the pleasant burn of being worked open by the brunet’s digits. Zhongli - dissatisfied with the shallow thrusts of his fingers into the ginger’s tight hole - reaches for the vial of lube secretly hidden in his trousers’ pocket. The fragrance of silk flowers floats in the air around them as Zhongli covers the younger male with the sticky substance. The lovely scent of Childe’s juices mixed with the sweetness of the flowery lube slowly makes it to your nostrils, and you inhale wantonly. It smells like Mr Zhongli himself with the subtle notes of Childe’s rich essence. It intoxicates you like the best of drugs as heat pools low between your legs.

The fluttery sensation becomes worse with each moan, each profanity slipping past the ginger’s obscene mouth. You feel on fire, ready to combust at any moment. Your strength has left you, and at this point, you’re weekly clinging to a wall on wobbly legs. Blood rushes to your clit. It pulses in hot waves, spreading all over your groin. Having little control over your actions, a clammy hand slides down to your swollen folds, where you begin to rub synchronously with Zhongli’s bobbing head. It’s maddening. The tension below your navel makes you absent-mindedly rut into your palm. The other hand is still securely placed on your mouth, preventing you from whimpering too loud.

„Too fast, ah-ngyahh, you’re going to make me cum!”

Childe lets out a cry that unexpectedly pushes you over the edge as your thickened folds begin to throb. Everything turns white, and your limbs go stiff when your orgasm attacks you so violently. Your thighs quake, and breath hitches on and on while you pathetically try to control the flow of air whooshing straight into your hyperventilating lungs. 

„No-ah-no, I want to cum with you in me!”

Childe keeps protesting as his greedy palms card through inky locks. His anus burns and the twitching tip of his cock releases cloudy droplets of pre-cum onto the older’s loving tongue. Zhongli doesn’t waste a single drop, swirling his tongue around the delicate tip with learned by heart accuracy. All of the ginger’s sensitive spots are etched in his memory. Childe moves his hips around anxiously. The stimulation from both sides leaves him on the verge of ejaculating all over Zhongli’s perfect mouth. Pulse thunders against his veins, the man keeps chocking on his pathetic moans. And with that one final lewd look from the clouded dragon eyes, Childe yanks the brunet’s long strands to get him off his aching cock.

Holy fuck. He was seconds from bursting because of the way Zhongli looked at him. 

Zhongli groans angrily at being so openly defied. He rises to his feet, towering over the younger male.

„J-Just fuck me already, you-you stubborn old ass.”

Childe stutters out in a voice that doesn’t resemble his own anymore.

„I don’t care if it hurts.”

The meek words barely make it out of his throat before the other male lunges at him with a fiery passion. Zhongli is on him. Ravaging mouth litters his neck with bites as Zhongli’s canines pierce the skin. The older grunts in frustration when the shirt is still on his way, not allowing him to mark his lover. He moves lower, finding satisfaction in abusing Childe’s nipple. The ginger shakes as if he was about to fall, ready to get to his knees to beg for any type of release.

„Zhongli!”

He feels himself being lifted from the ground, and a sense of relief washes over him. The brunet angles himself perfectly, and in a precise thrust pushes past the taut rim of Childe’s entrance.

Childe screams.

„Is that to your liking, Dear?”

The ginger hisses out air, legs wrapped around Zhongli’s waist so tightly you could think he wants them to merge into one. Childe doesn’t come up with any bratty response, as of now, he is being drilled by Zhongli’s thick cock so hard he wouldn’t be able to recall his name. His back arched, bodies slide against each other as Zhongli picks up the speed.

Your hips jerk. Thighs shake with effort when you can’t bring yourself to stop touching these twitching folds. You hear Zhongli cursing Childe’s tight heat, telling him to relax. You breathe in laboriously through your nose, your walls clamp down on the plunging digits when Childe moans out more of his „yes, please, yes” nonsense. The second orgasm leaves you even more depleted and considerably more teary-eyed as you furiously pump the digits in and out of your clenching cunt. It’s wet, dripping everywhere, making sloppy sounds as you finger yourself relentlessly. It’s like you are in a daze, unable to shake out of it when they fuck each other so lewdly in front of your eyes.

„Childe, you’re taking me so well. Is that what you wanted, huh? You look so pretty, crying around my cock. Absolutely ethereal.”

Zhongli praises continuously, his hips withdrawing only to slam back into Childe’s fluttering entrance. He fucks him so roughly it makes you feel sorry for the ginger. Will he even be able to walk after that kind of sex? You seriously doubt it. 

„C-Cum with me, nyhah---, I can’t hold it back anymore, ahh!”

Childe plunges into such deep pleasure there seems to be no escape. Zhongli’s hips stammer, balancing on the edge after hearing the younger’s desperate plea.

„F-Fuck, Childe, archons above-”

Zhongli moans out, smashing his dick into Childe, fireworks explode in his stomach, and he reaches his breaking point. He rolls his hips into the younger male, panting, grunting low in ecstasy. His long hair drag across his shoulders as he moves quickly, riding out his and Childe’s orgasm as well as he only can. The ginger is blissed out. The sizzling heat in his stomach makes him dig his nails into the jade-pale skin of Zhongli’s back. He sobs when Zhongli squeezes the final milky pearls of cum out of his cock, subsequently collapsing into the brunet’s arms like a rag doll.

Haze descends on you amidst the after-shock of yet another brutal release. It all kept happening so fast, the pleasure so intense and overbearing you don’t think you’ve ever experienced something like this in your life. Your heart keeps hammering like crazy when you realise you have to get out of there before they catch you sneaking up on them. Shaking like a leaf, you somehow make it to the elevator and proceed to press the ground floor button maniacally.

Little do you know that in the heat of the moment you forgot about the bag. It’s right there, on the floor, waiting for Mr Zhongli to stumble upon it when he leaves the office to fetch a glass of water for his thirsty and tired lover.

This is the end of part one. If you’re interested in reading the continuation of the story please make sure to visit my blog :> I’ll be posting the second part soon. Meanwhile, if you feel like screaming at me for this disgusting cliffhanger, go ahead. My askbox is open <3

Masterlist!

If you enjoy my writing please leave a comment, reblog, visit my blog and interact with me <3 It means a lot and keeps me motivated!

[jaesqueso]

Frat boys (m)

pairing: frat!xiaojun x frat female!reader x frat!hendery

summary: their pull game is a mess so what will they do when you give them a hand?

word count: 2,833

warnings: threesome, cunninlingus, fingering, blowjob, protected sex, some henxiao action for the strong ones, reader is very promiscuous so consider yourself warned!

a/n: can’t believe I let this marinate in my wips for this long but hey bette late than never! hope ya’ll enjoy ❤

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

As you move around the music, beer in your hand, you analyse the room. Everywhere the same clichés at every frat party. The popular girls pretending they’re to excuse their slutty dancing, the jocks chugging alcohol like wild animals to impress the female audience and surprisingly achieving their goal, one night couples grouping each other in the corners- well, actually everywhere. And as you look to your right there’s your favourite trope to watch: the two idiots that claim to get all the ladies but truth is they get none.

You try to abstract yourself from everything and just enjoy the DJ’s set and the booze running through your veins but something inside you calls for a challenge.

Looking around once again, your eyes fall into the two dorks again trying to talk to some girls but being brutally shut down. You can’t help chuckle at their sad attempt to play it cool, lucky for them nobody actually cares about their failed conquer but for some reason you can’t take your eyes off of them.

What if-

No. You might want a challenge tonight but there’s no way you’re gonna get with those two. Unless… You’d be lying if you said you don’t find them a little bit attractive and their quirky ways actually amuse you. But what would people say? What would that make you in this atmosphere of clichés? Would people just think you’re easy? Or worst… Desperate?

Screw that. Who cares what these losers think? It’s not like they’ll be part of your life once you graduate.

Fuck it. You’re going to do this. After emptying the cup in your hand you make your way towards them but they don’t seem to notice your presence until you speak up.

“Hendery. Xiaojun. No luck tonight?” You tease.

“W-What are you talking about?” Xiaojun stutters.

“Yeah! We were just talking to some girls who definitely wanted to-” Hendery starts with the usual white lies but you stop him.

“Right, right.” You scoff. “Truth is your lame attempts are starting to get embarrassing.”

They both let out a dramatic gasp at your statement. But then Xiaojun’s expression turns into a smirk like he had just a few minutes ago talking to the other girls.

“You’re just saying that cause you’re jealous of them.” You raise a curious brow.

“And why would that be?” Crossing your arms you smoothly accentuate your cleavage.

Hendery clears his throat before matching the expression on his friend’s face.

“You want a piece of this of course.” He runs his hands down his body and you force yourself to hold in a laugh.

“Maybe I do.” You bite back.

“Yeah you do- Wait, what?” They exchange a look with widen eyes not believing what they’re hearing.

“That’s right.” You take a step closer. “Maybe I do want a piece of you. What are you going to do about it?”

“W-well, which one do you want?” Xiaojun asks stepping forward flaunting his looks and his friend is quick to do the same.

“Do I need to choose?” They nod as if that’s the most obvious answer to your question. “What if I really want both of you?” 

This time you really can’t hide your laugh at their surprised expressions. But a minutes passes and they’re frozen in front of you.

“Hello?” You wave your arms in front of their faces. “Can’t handle it?”

“Of course we can!” Hendery finally says gathering every little bit of confidence still inside him.

“Let’s go then.” You turn around and start walking upstairs to look for an empty room.

“Wait, are we really doing this?” Hendery asks while being dragged by an excited Xiaojun that tries to follow you through the crowd.

Pushing through a door at the end of the hall on the first floor of the frat house you peek inside and grin as you realise it’s empty. Rushing the boys in, you close the door making sure nobody actually saw you go in.

Silence fills in the room even with the muffled sounds of the music downstairs, as much as you want to say something you wonder how long it will take for them to say or do something.

"So how are we going to do this?” Xiaojun finally speaks up scratching the back of his head.

"How about we play a game?” You bite your lip.

"What game?” Hendery curiously asks.

"You guys do something for me and I'll do something for you.” The side of your mouth curls up in a teasing way.

“Sure.” They shrug their shoulders.

"Alright then. Let's start with something simple. Shirts off.” You raise your brows awaiting them to follow through.

"Will you take it off too?” Hendery questions already undressing you in his mind.

"Want to find out?” You wink.

They quickly remove the clothing pieces leaving them bare chested. You tug on the hem of your dress and their eyes widen as they lick their lips eagerly waiting to see it drop to the floor.

"Wait. This is kind of unfair isn’t?" You tap your chin pretending to think. “When I take this off I'll be more naked than you. How about those pants come off too?”

They exchange a look, this is not what they agreed to. Are you playing them?

"What if I tell you I'm not wearing a bra?” You add after seeing their wary faces. “Will that help you decide?”

Both jeans hit the floor before you can barely finish your sentence. You take your time looking them up and down with a grin admiring what you're working with tonight.

"Come on, it's your turn now.” Xiaojun nods his head your way.

"I guess that's only fair.”

Slowly you drag the fabric through you body, over your head to gently drop it on the floor. Their jaws almost join the pile of clothes at their feet with the way they stare at your naked chest.

“Hey," you call for their attention, “shall we continue?”

They gulp and then nod so you proceed.

"How about we move to some action? Perhaps a kiss?” Their faces light up at the suggestion.

Smirking they start moving your way but suddenly stop on their tracks as you raise both your hands.

"Not me.” You shake your head. “Each other.”

They exchange a glance in disbelief.

"No way.”

"Hell no.”

"What's the problem? I thought you want this, are you backing out?” You act shocked.

"We want to kiss you, not each other.” Hendery says with a weirded out face. ”That’s not going to happen.”

"Definitely not. You're insane.” Xiaojun agrees.

"And here I thought you were different from the other guys but you're all the same.”

Shaking your head you grab your dress from the floor and head to the door.

“Wait!” Xiaojun shouts. “Where are you going?”

"Back to the party, you two are just wasting my time.” You make sure to voice out your disappointment.

"Just give us a second.” Xiaojun holds up a finger tugging on Hendery’s arm to pull him closer.

They turn to each and whisper an agreement that you're not meant to hear but their voices are loud enough to reach your ears.

"Dude come on, it's just a kiss.” Xiaojun claims.

"You're not seriously thinking about this, are you?” Hendery questions in disbelief.

"We can't back out now, please.” The other begs.

They both glance at you that just cross your arms and tilt your head clearly getting impatient.

"Fuck, ok." Hendery takes a deep breath. ”We'll do it.”

You simply grin and walk back to where you stood before. With your head you signal for them to go ahead and delightfully watch the tension between the two. They slowly lean in until their faces are an inch away from each other and in a blink of an eye their lips touch and part.

"What the hell was that?” You’re dumbfounded.

"We did what you asked.” Hendery rolls his eyes.

"I said a kiss, not a high five with your mouths. Come on, you don't want a piece of this?” You run your hands through your naked torso mocking Hendery’s actions from before.

"That's more like it.” You smile once again eagerly waiting what will happen next.

Looking back at each other they take a deep breath before closing the distance to reunite their lips. It starts with a simple smooch but your words echo in their heads and they know they need to do more. Their lips start moving in sync as the kiss gets steamier and you swear you see some tongue action too making your pussy throb inside your underwear.

After a bit you decide to step closer and they finally detach their lips. You run your hands through their hairs before pulling Hendery for a kiss, this time the one he was really hoping for. Xiaojun stands on the side attentively watching the way your tongues dance with each other as he eagerly awaits his turn. And when it arrives he wastes no time to latch onto you, the now familiar taste of Hendery’s lips lingering on yours.

"Wasn't it worth it?” You tease.

Neither of them dares to say a word but the slight hint of embarrassment showing through their cheeks doesn't deny it.

"Feel how excited you are.”

You grab their hands and press it into the others bulge that shows through their underwear. As they freeze at your action you simply chuckle and push between them removing your underwear before climbing on the bed. You crawl to the headboard and lay on your back, spreading your legs to display your arousal.

"Who wants to eat me out first?”

You can't help but giggle as they bump into each other in a race to the spot between your legs. Xiaojun is declared the winner instantly tugging on your thighs, face inches away from your dripping pussy that aches to be given some attention. He licks his lips before putting his tongue to action, Hendery groaning in defeat and you moaning in pleasure. Xiaojun laps on your clit, swirling his tongue just the right way to send shivers down your spine. You tug on the sheets arching your back off the bed, your sounds inspiring the mouth attached to you to keep going.

You glance at Hendery that palms his length through his briefs attentively watching his friend pleasure you.

"Hey." His eyes refocus on your face. "Just gonna sit and watch? Won't you rather join in?”

Following your call Hendery kneels next to you, gasping when you start strocking his member through the last piece of clothing on his body. With his help you drag his underwear down his legs exposing how hard he really is.

Resting on your elbows you lean closer to his dick licking the tip with a moan as Xiaojun inserts two fingers inside you to grab your attention. You only smirk at him as you take Hendery's length all the way to your throat, well trained on your gag reflex. Xiaojun widens his eyes but never stops his combined movements on your core as Hendery becomes a moaning mess feeling the warmth of your mouth moving up and down his cock.

But as much as you’re enjoying this, you need more. As you let go of Hendery’s member with a pop he almost falls back on the bed, chest heaving up and down like you sucked the life out of him. Xiaojun keeps going unbothered but what else is happening so you have to grab his hair and pull him away from your core. As his chin shines with your juices smeared all over it you can’t help bring him in for a heated kiss, almost forgetting the way his fingers keep pumping in and out of you.

You push Xiaojun away from your body to lay back on the mattress tugging on the waistband of his underwear to remove the last barrier off his body.

“Hendery, why don’t you go grab some condoms?” You instruct him before taking a long lick through Xiaojun’s length.

“W-where?” Hendery stutters.

“You don’t think I know you always cary some?” You give him a challenging look and without another word he hops off the bed rummaging through his jeans as you keep teasing Xiaojun’s cock leaving the boy a whimpering mess.

When Hendery gets back on the bed you push your ass up wiggling it for him flashing your wet needy hole.

“Come on Hendery,” you get impatient, “roll that on and stick it in me!”

Your wish is his command, in no time his dick is covered with the rubber and getting aligned with your entrance. You drag out a moan as he bottoms out stretching your walls. When he starts moving you engulf Xiaojun’s cock making him drop his head back with a groan.

It takes a while but Hendery finally finds his pace pounding into you after some messy desperate trusts, holding onto your hips to push them against his pelvis meeting his moves. You match the rhythm with your head bobbing up and down the dick In your mouth, sending vibrations to it as the orgasm prepared by Xiaojun threatens to explode on Hendery’s shaft.

You try to hold it as much as you can but it gets impossible with the boy behind you pounding straight into your sweet spot over and over again so you decide to let go, chocked moans echoing around the other’s length.

What you didn’t know is that Hendery was also doing an extreme control exercise not to cum too soon but with your walls clenching around his member it only takes a few more thrust to force him to climax too. He curses under his breath as he empties your hole, his softening cock still throbbing inside the condom. You try to steady your breathing as you come off your high until someone grabs your attention.

“Is it my turn now?” Xiaojun voice almost breaks. “Please…”

“Hendery did you bring more?” You ask and he lazily throws another condom at Xiaojun that rushes to roll it down his length.

With the strength you have left you move to straddle his lap aligning his protected dick with your entrance that is surprisingly throbbing for more. As you sink down on it your moans also meet in the air. You don’t exactly have the energy to bounce on him so you settle with grinding instead and it seems to do the trick with the way his face contorts in pleasure.

For a second you almost forgot there was someone else in the room with how quiet he was so you look over your shoulder to find Hendery sitting against the headboard, still recovering from his orgasm as he watches your body connecting with his friend’s.

With a lazy grin you turn around on Xiaojun’s lap to face the other one that matches your grin. You lift your hips steady them a few inches above Xiaojun’s and he’s quick to get the hist and starts thrusting into you instead. This new position allows him to get deeper inside you and you feel a second orgasm trying to push through.

You motion for Hendery to come closer and he happily follows your request joining your lips for a slow kiss. But then you gently push his head down your body to face your pussy. He looks up at you to try and understand what you mean but with the wink you give him it becomes clear. He leans forward to lick your clit as Xiaojun keeps pounding Into you, faster and harder each time.

The combination of stimulation is quick to set you off into your second high of the night that you announce with a loud moan, body starting to shake between the two boys. Feeling you clench, Xiaojun’s thrusts become quick and sloppy and Hendery leans back to let his friend cum in peace as a whimper escapes his lips and the hold on your hips tightens.

Carefully you move to lay beside Xiaojun and Hendery decides to take the spot on your other side. Drunk on sex the three of you lay in silence for a few minutes taking in what just happened.

The quietness of the room is interrupted as you drag yourself off the bed leaving the boys confused when you start putting your clothes back on.

“You’re leaving?” Hendery asks in disappointment.

“Yeah, aren’t we done here?” You don’t even glance at him.

“I mean if you wait a few more minutes I think-” He tries to infer but you cut him off.

“Don’t push your luck.” You walk to the door but stop before you exit. “By the way, let’s keep what happened between us ok? If you tell this to anyone, I’ll deny it.”

“Why?” Xiaojun asks in confusion as you open the door.

“Goodnight boys.” You wink with a grin before walking out the room leaving them dumbfounded inside.

☽ ・・・・・ ☾

taglist: @yokshi-unbeliebubble​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nc-teen​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @yutahoes​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @dimplehyunn​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @iknowyuno​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @bebskyy​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ne0cultur3technology​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @nurenciye​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @luvjeongjaehyun​​​​​​​​

unable to tag: @chenleyang @doahflix @criminalmindsz

[starksinner]

Cleaning House

Summary: Trevor finds you wearing a maid's outfit while cleaning up his trailer.

Pairing: Trevor Philips x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Switching, (Slight) Mommy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content

Author's Note: Replaying GTA V did this to me. Don't blame me, blame the game. Anyways, hope some of y’all in this dead fandom are still alive out there.

February 12th, 2014.

“Got rid of your fuckin’ roach problem,” you announce, chucking a large black garbage bag at Trevor’s feet.

He can’t move, he can’t speak. He can’t form a coherent fucking thought at the image of you before him.

You’re wearing this little maid number: black, white, and lacy. Your tits—fuck—they’re practically spilling out over that plunging neckline. And Jesus—your thighs. Your goddamn thighs are on full display for him, just begging to be licked and marked and worshiped.

Fuck.

To top it all off, you’re gazing at him like he’s some delicious meal, a grand fucking feast that’s ready to be devoured and destroyed.

Eyes hooded, lips wet. You’re a fucking angel and he sure as shit hasn’t done anything right enough in his life to earn your presence.

All he can do is continue to stare as you shift and move and swing your hips, rummaging around his trailer and throwing out his last stash of porn magazines and leopard print panties.

His cock immediately hardens, the only indicator that he hasn’t died and entered an underserved state of paradise.

“If you ever want me to step foot in this place again, you’ll keep your shit clean,” you chastise, wiping your hands hurriedly against your skirt. You saunter on over, cocking your eyebrow at him.

You can’t help but be pleased with the look of pure awe on his face, almost childlike and shy. You also can’t help but let your eyes fall to the very visible erection trying to poke out of his jeans.

He stutters and flexes as you place your hands against his chest, his eyes roaming all the way up to your cleavage, to your neck, to your domineering gaze.

“D’you understand me, Trev?”

He stutters again.

Your eyes don’t leave his as you cup him in your hand, squeezing your fingers generously around his clothed length. The little hiss he lets out is all the encouragement you need.

“I said, do you fuckin’ understand me?” Your breath ghosts over his pulse, his neck, his jaw. He shutters and you squeeze him again.

“Yes, ma’am…yes, mommy. Yeah, oh fuck me-“

You unzip his jeans and let them pool around his thighs, practically trapping him in place. “You left me here to play your little cleaning lady while you—what?—went off to go handle ‘business’? You decided to be a big man and leave your woman at home to cook and clean for you, hm?”

“N-No, fuck no I-“

“I walked all the way over to that shitty little thrift store and got this stupid thing, just for you.”

The noise he makes is primal and needy, it’s more of a heavy rumbling than a groan; you know it means you’ve got him right where you need him. Pliant, wanting, submissive.

“Ma’am—mhm—fuck, you look so f-fuckin-“

As soon as you pull him out of his underwear, he hunches forward and whines like a pathetic little whore. That’s all he really is: a whore, a baby, a needy little thing. It’s absolutely adorable.

“You’re gonna be a good boy for me, stay quiet, and take what I give you.”

You make a show of spitting into your hand right before you take him and begin pumping his cock, teasing the head, squeezing tight, just how you know he likes.

You’re working for less than twenty seconds before you acknowledge that he’s already on the precipice of collapse. As the opportunity to tease him comes a-knocking, the only thing for you to do is take it.

“Tell me how I’m making you feel, Trevy,” you giggle, teasing the shell of his ear with your tongue. He lets out a tiny squeal as he lifts his face from the crook of your neck and moans.

“S-so good, ma’am. You’re gonna—fuck! I’m gonna cum!” He’s loud, he’s obnoxious, he’s panting against your skin like a fucked out little marathon runner. You pump him faster and smile.

“If you come, baby, I’m never letting you fuck me again.” It isn’t an empty threat, and you know he knows that, especially with the way he shoves his fingers into your waist and fucking cries.

“Please, I can’t fucking—fuck! Please, ma’am! Please, mommy! I can’t—please stop, I don’t wanna—“

“You tellin’ me what to do, huh?” You know he’s close, he’s crying and panting and practically vibrating against you. It’s all a beautiful and predictable tell. “You think that’s a good idea, baby?”

“N-no! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, please! I jus’ don’ wanna come, I wanna be good for you, fuckin’ FUCK please!”

You let up, maybe because he got to you, maybe because you’re in this for the long game — you don’t know.

You let go of his cock and simmer down.

Urgently, Trevor sighs and grunts and presses his lips against your neck, sucking and licking at the skin to calm himself. You’re kind, you’re generous — so you let him.

You notice he’s leaning his hips away from you, being a good boy and straying from the temptation of rubbing himself against you.

You drop your eyes and peer down at his cock, it’s red and swollen, with pre-come running all the way down to his shaft. You know if you touch him now, or even spew some 1970’s corny porno dirty talk, he’d completely lose it and come all over your thighs.

You let him breathe, holding him for a moment before you speak again.

“I don’t usually mean to sound this much like a bitch,” you mutter, running your fingers over his hair. “But if you want me in your bed again, it’s gotta be in a completely different house. I just saw two rats fucking by the table. And I also couldn’t get the blood out of the walls! And don’t even get me started about the fact that this place would look worse than a Jack Pollock painting if I brought in a blacklight!”

Trevor hums and wraps his arms around you, shrinking his weight to purposefully stick his face into your breasts. “I’ll burn this place to the fuckin’ ground, baby. Whatever you want. I’ll buy a new house, I’ll buy ten new fucking houses. You…Oh, I love you. I love you, I love you, I fucking love you…”

You lift his face up to meet yours and kiss him then. He tastes like beer and cigarettes, a bit of a disgusting mixture. But you concede that this is Trevor: your friend, your fuck buddy, your partner in actual crime; you like him. A whole lot. You don’t mind taking it.

“You’ve been a really good boy for me, Trev,” you grin, tracing your finger over the corner of his lips. “Let's say you bend me over that clean ass counter and fuck me right, hm?”

His smile has always been catlike, a little bit evil and a little bit vindictive. You love it.

He surges forward and pulls your thighs around his waist, carrying you over to the kitchen. The sheer strength of this man always leaves you feeling a little dizzy.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, ma’am,” he pants, placing you on the edge of the counter.

That mouth of his. You feel the muscles in your cunt twitch around nothing. Fuck.

“Oooh, these TITS!” He squeezes them and now he has you whining and whimpering, especially as you feel the edge of his body pressing right up against your clit.

Trevor notices the shift in dynamics and that Cheshire grin of his is right back on. “Now who says Uncle T is a dirty old man? Look at you, begging for me with all those cute little noises.”

You grind hard against his leg and press your nails into his shoulder blades, perching yourself onto him like a monkey on a tree.

“Please, Trev…”

“Fuck, sugar,” His hands wander all over your skimpy outfit, pulling at the lace and silky fabric. “You sure know how to get a man GOING!”

Abruptly, he pulls you off the counter and makes good on your demand from before, turning you over and pushing your chest flat against its surface with your ass sticking out at him.

“Gonna fuck you so good, cupcake,” You feel his cock nudging your thigh and you nearly collapse. “Gonna treat you real nice, make you my good girl. Then we’re going house hunting!”

[roonyxx]

Undercover

Summary: You and Dean go undercover to a gala for a hunt.

Warnings: little bit of jealous Dean, spn voilence, language, smuuut!

Pairing: Dean x reader

A/N: This was written for @anaelsbrunette​ 20th birthday challenge! I had the prompt  ‘ Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress’ I hope you enjoy this! and a happy (early) birthday!!!.

A/N 2: The text divider is from the very talented @talesmaniac89​

Wordcount: 2166

My Masterlist

You were applying the last touches of your make up when you felt a presence behind you.

“Give me one good reason why I should wear a dress, Dean.” You looked at him through the mirror, admiring the tuxedo he was wearing. This man looked handsome on a normal day, put him in a nice suit and you could hear your own funeral starting.

“Because we can’t go undercover to a gala in jeans sweetheart. Besides, you’ll look hot in it.” He said with a wink.

With a big sigh you moved to your bed to retrieve the dress. “Fine! But if I need to run from the shifter that will be impossible, especially with these heels!”

“Don’t worry Y/n, I’ll have your back. Now get dressed! We’re already late.” He left the room with that.

You put on the dress. It was a satin dark green dress with a deep cleavage, an open back and a thigh slit. It was a beautiful dress but you would never have chosen it, a little too open for your comfort, but Dean said this was the dress code. You had to play your part and now that you had it on, you must admit, it looks good.

You put on your matching heels and slipped the silver knife in your thigh holster under your dress. You were ready to go. You made your way to the garage where Dean was waiting. Your heels echoed on the concrete floor.

“Finally! I thou-“ he stopped mid-sentence as his eyes slowly traveled up your exposed leg, over to your deep cleavage, you saw him swallow hard and his pupils widened. With a proud smirk you walked around the car to step into the passenger side.

“You were saying?” you asked as he took place behind the wheel, his eyes still feasting on you.

“Y-you look gorgeous, sweetheart.” He stuttered.

“Well you don’t look so bad yourself, handsome.” You winked at him.

You and Dean had been friends for quite a while, you two flirted a lot, but it never went further then that.

“Ready?” he asked.

“As ever” You said.

You arrived at the party about 20 minutes later, Dean had refused to put baby up for valet, and considering it was hard if you needed a fast escape, he parked a little further down the road and you walked until the mansion.

You were looking for a shifter that impersonated rich people, it had killed five people already. You and Dean would pretend to be Mister and Misses Goldberg, while Sam would sneak inside to look at the camera’s.

Dean wrapped his arm around your waist as you neared the entrance.

“You got your knife?” he whispered in your ear, his deep voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Yes” you answered him.

Dean guided you inside, his hands placed on your lower back, sending electricity straight to your core.

God you were never gonna survive this night.

He picked up some champagne from a waiter and handed you a glass.

“Guys? Clink your glasses if you can hear me.” Sam said through the earpiece both you and Dean wore.

You lifted your glass and clinked with Dean as he winked at you.

“Okay good, I haven’t spotted him yet so do your thing, mingle with the crowd and do not blow your cover. They have the cops on stand bye because of the recent murders.” Sam warned both you and Dean.

“Mingle is our specialty.” Dean said as he put both your glasses down and took your hand to guide you to the dance floor.

“I thought you didn’t dance?” you put your right hand in his and your left on his shoulder. He put his free hand on your waist.

“I do, on occasions” he started to sway you to the music. For a big guy he sure was light on his feet.

“Tell me, where did you learn to dance like this, Dean?” you looked up at him, into his beautiful emerald eyes.

“I dated a tango teacher once, she showed me some moves” he grinned.

“Of course you did” you chuckled, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy. “You’re very good.” You complimented him.

“Why thank you my lady, you haven’t stepped on my toes so you’re okay too” you could feel his chest rumble under your hand as he chuckled.

His hand on your waist pulled your closer, his fingers touched the bare skin of your back, dipping slightly beneath the fabric to touch the dimples above your butt. You looked at him and felt your cheeks reddening.

“You look beautiful Y/n” he told you, his eyes not looking into yours but aimed slightly lower.

“Thank you.” You whispered back. He dipped his head lower, tilted it to the side as you felt his breath fan over your lips. You took in a shaky exhale, going on your tip toes as your hand shifted from his shoulder to the side of his neck.

“Guys! It’s upstairs! Go now!” Sam yelled through your earpiece, totally ruining the moment…

Dean shortly nodded towards the camera and guided you both off of the dance floor.

‘Damnit Sammy, you are a cock block!’ you thought to yourself as you and Dean sneaked your way up the stairs.

Once you were the behind the corner and out of sight from everyone, you pulled your knife from your thigh holster.

You saw Dean pulling one from his ankle, his butt on nice display in front of you when he bent to take it. He really was perfect in every way.

“He’s in the last room on your right.” Sam instructed.

You put your hand on Dean’s arm and whispered. “Let me”

You went in front of him and tucked your knife away, patted your dress down and went in the room.

“Oh! Sorry, I must have the wrong room!” you giggled at the shifter, a stumble in your step to appear drunk. “I was looking for the bathroom.”

The shifter smiled at you and stepped closer. “Well ain’t you a sight for sore eyes? What’s your name, sugar ?”

“Y/n” you answered him in a sultry voice.

“Mh pretty name for a pretty lady. I’ll show you the bathroom, sugar.” He put his hand on your lower back and opened the door, his hand instantly dropped lower to grope your ass.

“HEY!” Dean yelled as came from the hall into the room and punched him in the throat, making the shifter stumble back inside. You quickly closed the door behind you to cancel out the noise.

“Hands off, dickbag!” Dean had him pinned to the floor, groaning loud as he punched the shifter in the face over and over again before finishing it off with a silver knife to its heart.

He stood up, his chest heaving as adrenaline pumped through his veins from the kill.

“Well that worked out perfectly, we just have to hide the body.” You stepped closer and lifted the legs to pull it into a closet and shut the door. “There, problem solved!”

When you turned around to walk out of the room you bumped into Dean’s chest.

“Never do that again” he said in a deep voice.

“Do what?” you asked him.

“Go inside with a shifter and no plan!”

“Dean, I knew you had my back and I had my knife, we just needed a distraction, so I gave one.”

He stepped closer to you, you walked back until your back hit the wall.

“He touched you.” He said, his voice deep. He was so close, you could feel the heat coming off of his chest.

“He did, but you killed him” you whispered, the tension weighing heavy in the room.

His hands came to your waist and slipped down and back to your butt. You gasped as he squeezed both your ass cheeks firmly in his big hands.

“This dress Y/n…” he groaned as he buried his face in your neck, “You’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

Your hand cupped the back of his head and you arched your neck, giving him more access to kiss it. You moaned as he pressed his hips into yours, you could feel his hard cock rubbing against you.

“F-Fuck Dean… you’re hard?” you wrapped one leg around his hips, pulling him closer so he could rub against your core.

“Hell yeah I am, you look gorgeous” he kisses down your neck to your chest, tugging the dress aside to kiss at your breast, chuckling when he saw your nipple sticker. “Is that a nipple sticker?”

“I didn’t have a bra for this, I had to improvise!” you told him.

He hummed in understandment and used his teeth to peel it off and locked his lips around the sensitive bud. Sucking on it.

“F-Fuck Dean… I want you. Now” you moaned as you fisted his hair.

His hand opened his pants as he kept his lips around your nipple, as soon as his pants was open he picked you up by the thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and tugged at his hair so you could kiss him. your hand slipped down his white shirt to grasp his hard cock. Pumping it slowly.

He growled into your mouth, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Put me inside now” he groaned into your mouth.

You moved your panties to the side and put his cock at your entrance, he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open around his thick girth.

You arched your back and let your head fall back against the wall. “Fuuck… y-you’re so big.”

His hands tightened on the back of your thighs as he pushed all the way in, your clit against his pelvis as he started to grind into you.

“Graaah sweetheart… you’re so tight.” He panted in your neck, tongue licking and teeth biting at your pulse point.

“Fuck me Dean. Hard.” Tugging at his hair you made him look at you.

He pulled all the way out and slammed back in. Your butt bounced against the wall with his powerful thrusts, the pictured frame that hung next to your head fell down, but neither you nor Dean cared. All you cared about was his cock deep inside your pussy.

“You’re so wet, I can feel you dripping down my balls baby.” He groaned and looked down at where he disappeared into you. “You’re creaming all over my cock baby… fuck you feel amazing.”

You tugged at his tie to loosen it, kissing his neck, sucking a hickey. You moved up his neck to his stubbled jaw, loving the tingly sensation it gave you.

“D-Dean… I’m close. G-gonna come.” You moaned, head back, clinging to his broad shoulders.

“Come for me Y/n. Clench my cock baby.” He went even harder. Pounding you into the wall, he was starting to lose his rhythm, his hands grasped you harder, no doubt leaving bruises.

You tugged hard at his hair as you came around his cock, soaking his pants as your arousal gushed out of you.

“DEAN FU-“ he clasped his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. His own eyes rolled back in his head and his hips jerked into you as he filled you with his warm cum. His jaw clenched and he growled loud with his mouth closed, trying to keep quiet.

“Fuck Y/n!” he whisper yelled as he looked down at his cock buried deep inside you. “You made quite a mess sweetheart.” He chuckled as he looked at his soaked pants and the puddle on the floor.

“I… I never did that before” you panted, “Fuck Dean that was… a-amazing.” You cupped his cheek and unwrapped your legs from his waist as he pulled out and slipped your panties back in place. He kept his hands on your waist, your legs still trembled from the mind-blowing orgasm.

“Guys… you really need to go, also next time… please take out your earpieces. This was… awkward.” Sam said in your ear.

You felt your face heat up. “S-sorry Sam…” you said and looked around for a camera in the room.

“You didn’t see my girl, right?” Dean asked.

“Hell no. I shut off the camera, but yeah, I am still scarred for life.” He said.

“Good.” Dean said.

You and Dean took off the ear pieces and made your way out of the room. He still had his arm around your waist to keep you up right. You took the back entrance out. With your wobbling legs and Deans’ stained pants, people didn’t even need to think about what happened.

You walked out and to the impala. You both got inside.

“So, I’m your girl huh?” you asked him with a smirk.

He started the engine and pulled you closer, putting his hand on your thigh. “Hell yes you are.”

“We should have done this undercover thing way sooner.” You chuckled as he kissed your cheek and drove home.

Feedback is my fuel or buy me a coffee :D

[jikisbunny]

Ive had this idea for Amajiki for so long and I finally made a decent start for it. I already have most of the smut written but just wanna put a lil part one for it

Pairing: Tamaki Amajiki x fem!Reader

Word Count: 777

Warnings: TBDL

MDNI

All characters are aged up (+18)

Scenario: Bimbo reader falls head over heels in love with Amajiki and wants to thank him for tutoring her (Part 1)

No smut

——————————————————————————

When you first entered UA, everyone took one look at your bimbo aesthetic and immediately had the idea of Mirio and you being a match made in heaven. The perfect Himbo to play as an accessory to your aesthetic. They even thought Kirishima, Mr. Himbo ™️, was the piece to your puzzle.

No one, however, expected you to be head over heels for Amajiki. The quiet, shy, and nervous, filled student who could barely keep eye contact was who you had your little heart set on. Everyone thinks you want the big strong man at your side and to feed into your hot girl ego, and although you do want someone to feed into your ego, you don't want a strong man to sweep you off your feet. You want a shy and awkward boy who gets flustered up when you happen to "accidentally" shove your boobs a little too close into his face. Someone who stutters out a compliment when you ask him how your new skimpy outfit looks. Someone who tenses up and goes stiff when you sit on his lap at lunch and shift around. A boy with absolutely no game and has never even touched a girl.

Sure, a himbo can gawk and drool over your body as you want and be hypnotized by you all the same, but the way a guy who has never been given a sprinkle of female attention looks at you almost gets you high.

When you first started at UA, Kaminari insisted on being the one to walk you around and show you everything. Also, lead you to your new dorm and where the class is held. Even though he wanted to do it, he was so nervous being around you. You noticed he always looked you up and down and eyed your cleavage just like you wanted. He was nervously giving you subtle compliments.

"Your top is uuuh, really nice" you knew he was talking about your tits, and you gave the most bubbly "Thanks!" you possibly could making him melt

Everything was lining up perfectly for you, and no work had to be even done. Kaminari was already at your feet, ready to be your next plaything. That was until he introduced you to The Big 3, and your plan with lightning bolt over there quickly went out the window. Amajiki couldn't even get out a "hello" when he first met you. He was immediately taken back by your appearance and had to face a wall to revert his eyes from your body, trying so hard not to show his forming erection and embarrassment.

Since then, you've slowly picked away at his shyness and became close friends with him after a month of going to UA. You were best friends with The Big 3 and always hung out. You were nowhere near as good as they were, but they still adopted you into the friend group. You were using them as tools to get closer to Amajiki and find out all you could. It's been a month, and you aren't as far as you'd like to be with him, but you honestly couldn't care. You adored his presence all the time and genuinely enjoyed being around him. Even if your ultimate goal was to fuck him, you liked him as a friend. And he, of course, fed into your bimbo headspace.

He always stuttered compliments about your short skirts or tight little tops. Going red every time you hug him and could feel your body press against him. Tensing up whenever you sit on his lap and praying you don't feel his erection, but you most definitely do. Your favorite type of compliment from him is when you purposely bend over in front of him, and he audibly gasps. It isn't much of a compliment but hearing him make a cute noise like that after getting a glimpse of your bare cunt is enough to flatter you. It's also enough to make your pussy throb.

Further, into your semester, you started to struggle majorly with your studies, and of course, Amajiki rushed to be at your side to help tutor you.

"Wow, thanks, Jiki! You're so smart I don't know what I'd do without you!" you exclaim loudly and excitedly while throwing your arms around him. Maybe even purposely rubbing your boobs on his arm. He immediately started blushing.

After offering to help tutor you, you invited him to your dorm later that night to get started, and that's when your plan was falling perfectly into place. You'll be alone with him tonight, and you have to thank him somehow for helping you pass this semester.

——————————————————————————

Uuuuh so yea part two later this week! I'll also be going back to work on tags/warning. If any of this triggers anyone and wants me to remove it until it's properly tagged please please let me know!!!

[taintedcigs]

competition [bucky barnes x reader]

summary: bucky and the reader make a little competition to see who's more irresistible words: 700 words lil blurb warnings: not rlly a smut but just teasing?? like just a bit of touching and stuff nothing extreme, also alcohol!!! and still MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ a/n: a little bucky blurb to get me through the day honestly <33 pls send feedback by reblogging + liking + commenting and/or sending me asks or requests i rlly rlly appreciate it and ily all <3333

Bucky raised a brow, "Really, princess?" You nodded quickly.

Bucky hummed, "I really don't think so." You put your drink down.

"Oh, you don't?" You smirked mischievously, "How about we test that?" You hummed.

Bucky raised a curious brow, "And how exactly would we do that?" questioning as his hands swirled around his glass of whiskey, his face studying yours.

"Let's say, a little competition." Your eyes grew wider, "A competition?" He questioned.

You nodded, "Yup, let's see who's more irresistible!" You giddled. "And how exactly are we competing?" He asked curiously.

You smirked, "Well, we will compete to see who can resist the other the longest." You took another sip from your drink, head already kind of dizzy.

Bucky hummed as he looked amused, "And what happens when I win?" He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes "We will decide that when I win." You smirked back, giggling.

"You think so?" He questioned encouragingly, his eyes meeting yours as his orbs had darkened.

You slowly nodded still in a giggly mood as you took another sip from your drink, just to immediately put it down when Bucky's hand grazed over your thigh.

You gulped as his metal arm moved from your thighs to your chin, then soon over to your cheek as he caressed it.

He then started to slowly grazing over to your neck, you could feel your thighs already dampening as the booze was surely not helping.

His metal arm landed on your neck and he squeezed it ever so to your liking, knowing how worked up you always got when he choked you with his metal arm, he gave you a slight smirk leaning forward next to your ear.

He planted a short-lived kiss, "How sure are you about that now, doll?" He hummed in a raspy voice, letting out a low whimper as he did so, amusing Bucky further more.

The sounds at the bar quickly faded to the both of you as you could just feel each other's presence, caught up in the moment

You quickly gathered your thoughts together, despite how badly you wanted to give in you cleared your thoughts, immediately trying to think of a way to get him back.

Bucky backed up slowly, still amused, as you took another sip trying to calm yourself down.

And when you did so, an idea quickly popped into your head an you grinned innocently, looking at the glass in your hand.

You not-so-accidentally spilled a bit of your drink onto his crouch area, and then gasped as you startled Bucky.

"I'm so sorry, Buck!" You said innocently, and Bucky cursed silently, "Here, let me help!" You said quickly as you grabbed a napkin slowly trying to clean it, and you leaned over purposefully showing off your cleavage, you hid your smirk as you did so.

Surely enough Bucky could feel his pants tighten both at your movements and the sight in front of him, silently cursing himself for being so weak at his knees at the sight of you.

You leaned over to his ear, "How does this feel, Buck?" You spoke in a sultry voice, grinning.

"F-fine..." Bucky stuttered over his words, trying to shake over the sight of you out of his mind, but you didn't let him as you placed a wet kiss on his neck, earning hushed out curses from him.

You hummed as you dropped the napkin, now fully stroking him through his pants as people around you didn't seem to have a clue.

"How about now, sir?" You asked again, innocently, Bucky's eyes darkening at the nickname, you were now fully smirking.

His hands promptly grabbed yours, stopping your movements as he grabbed you to face him, his blue orbs were filled with lust as he spoke in a low voice "You win."

You got up happily as you were about to tease him with the fact that you won, Bucky instantly grabbed your waist, making you squeal as he threw you over his shoulder, making you giggle.

[wandaromanova]

Left Behind

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, death

A/N: hi! this was a request! hope you guys like this one! y’all can blame @midgardianweasley for this one. happy reading <3

anon requested: Natasha x fem! reader. Reader and Natasha were in a building on fire trying to get citizens out and a wooden beam lands on reader. It’s too heavy for Natasha to lift it but won’t give up. Reader is screaming for Natasha to go! Giving her a smile that everything will be okay! A fireman then pulls Natasha out of the building against her will seeing the whole building collapse in reader.

Summary: Natasha and Y/N go on a mission, but don’t make it back together.

Word Count: 1.6K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

You were an Avenger just like your girlfriend; Natasha. You had met the redhead when you first joined the team.

You were one of the highest-ranked S.H.I.E.L.D agents and Fury had decided to recruit you into the team of heroes. You had heard many stories about the Black Widow and to say you were a fan was an understatement.

You had an immense amount of respect for Natasha. Her past wasn’t a great one, but she turned her life around and made it beautiful. She didn’t let her mistakes define who she was and you admired that.

The assassin had taken a liking to you. You guys immediately hit it off. About six months after your arrival, you began dating Natasha.

Natasha’s room became yours too. You’d spend your nights laid on top of the redhead as she stroked your hair gently. You’d close your eyes and ask her to say anything because the sound of her voice was your favorite.

She’d sing Russian lullabies to you. You were the only person she’d ever let hear her sing. She said she was a terrible singer and not letting anyone hear her was a gift, but she was actually amazing at it.

Her husky voice sent chills down your spine whenever she would speak. So when she sang to you in Russian? You were speechless.

You felt blessed to know that Natasha was truly herself in your presence. No one had ever seen her true colors, until you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were the person that Natasha went to for everything.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Exhausted after a long mission? She’d run into your arms as soon as she’d land. Steve and Tony annoying the fuck out of her? She’d rant to you about how small their brains were.

Devastated after a mission had gone wrong? She’d find comfort in your presence and your words. You’d whisper soft reassurances against her ear as you’d rock your bodies side-to-side.

Receiving good news? You’d be the very first person she’d tell as the excitement took over her. You’d match her energy, feeling just as excited as her, if not more. Natasha would beam as you’d press a soft kiss to the crown of her head, mumbling an ‘i’m so proud of you’ against her scalp.

You were Natasha’s person and she was yours. You genuinely believed you were made for one another. From the way your hands fit like two pieces of a puzzle with one another, to the way your thoughts and ideas seemed to always align. You guys just got each other in a way no one else could.

So, naturally, you were always assigned partners on missions. You two had the best communication on the team which led to tons of successful missions. However, communication couldn’t prevent nor predict the surprises of enemies.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You and Natasha were sent undercover to a gala being held by one of the leaders of Hydra.

The goal was to capture him for questioning and keep him in custody. That should be easy, considering there was booze everywhere and everyone was either tipsy or black-out drunk.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Well yes, it would’ve been easy; if your cover hadn’t been blown.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You were currently sat on the target’s lap as he not so subtly stared at your cleavage. You were with him in a private area further into the party, while Natasha remained in the public area.

The drunk man looked up at you and you smiled down at him; trying your best to hide your disgust. However, he didn’t smile back at you.

You were caught off guard when he abruptly shoved you off of his lap, your body colliding with the marble floor.

“You’re an Avenger. You bitch!” You quickly stood up at his words and attacked him. You spoke into your earpiece while fighting off the man.

“Nat, our cover has been blown. I need backup.” You said as the man landed a heavy punch onto your abdomen. You stumbled back and he took the opportunity to rush out of the room.

“взорвать это место, сейчас! (blow the place up, now!)”

Your eyes widened at his words. Before you could rush out of the room yourself, an explosion pushed you back. Your body collided with a wall and you let out a scream of agony as a beam from the ceiling landed on top of you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

The sounds of screams and the fire alarms accompanied the ringing in your ears. Your only thoughts being; your pain and Natasha.

She had been on her way over here before the bomb went off. Was she okay? Did she get hit by the force of the bomb? Was she gone?

You tried your best to lift the beam off of your body, but to no avail. You realized that a piece of metal that had been sticking out of the beam had lodged itself into your chest.

Your eyes tore away from the beam on top of you and landed on red locks. Natasha stumbled into the room; or at least, what was left of it anyway. She paused in her tracks at your state.

Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as her hands shot up to cover her mouth, a muffled gasp escaping her throat. She quickly got it together and rushed over to help you.

Nat got down on her knees, not caring about how harsh the rubble was against her bare skin. She moved to lift the beam, but you stopped her.

“Natty, no. If you lift it, I’ll bleed out.” You sent her a small smile before you began to cough. Natasha’s heart sunk to her stomach at the sight of blood pouring out of your mouth.

“I have to get you out of here, babe. We have a movie night planned, I have to make sure that still happens.” Nat tried to joke in an attempt to console you, but it was more to control her own fear than anything.

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of another explosion. The building quaked as flames began to invade the room. She needed to go; now.

You shook your hand that was sticking out from the beam slightly. Nat got the message and held your hand with both of hers tightly.

“You need to leave, honey. This place is going to collapse any minute now.” You croaked out, ignoring the metallic taste in your mouth.

“I’ll be damned if I leave you behind. If you’re going down, I’m going down with you.” You couldn’t help but smile as you took in every inch of Nat’s face.

She was absolutely beautiful. Even with the dust and dirt littering her face and her worried expression; she was still the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

The flames began to rage. The smoke was beginning to cloud your vision of the woman in front of you. You rubbed one of her hands with the back of your thumb, not minding the pain that accompanied the action.

“Go. Now. It’s okay. I love you so much and you aren’t leaving me behind; you never would and I- I know that.”

You stuttered towards the end of the sentence as you were overcome by an intense chill. You were losing so much blood and it wasn’t going to be long now before you were gone.

Your eyes drifted towards a figure entering the room. A firefighter. His eyes widened as he noticed both of you. He rushed over to help you, but you stopped him.

“Hey buddy, I’m a goner regardless if you get this off of me or not. Get her out of here. You can’t save me, but you can save her.”

You managed to let out as another fit of coughs shook your body. More crimson liquid spilled out of your mouth and Natasha finally let her tears fall.

The man nodded solemnly before he grabbed Natasha by the waist. She struggled against his hold as she kicked and screamed; her arms reaching out for you.

“No! No! Please let me stay! I can’t leave you! You can’t leave me!” Natasha’s words paired with her tone of agony and desperation tore your heart apart.

All you could do was smile lovingly at her as you slowly felt the life leave your body. She was going to be okay eventually and that’s all you wanted for her.

“I love you, moya lyubov (my love). It’s okay. Take care of yourself.”

You spoke quietly, but it was loud enough for Natasha to hear. She watched as the bright light that once filled your irises turned to a blank stare.

Natasha fought even harder against the man’s firm grip as she sobbed out. He had finally managed to get the both of them out of the room and out of the building. This all happened in the span of a few minutes, but to Natasha, it felt like an eternity.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

The firefighter placed Nat down once they were a good distance away from the building. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she ran towards the building, but before she could make it back in; the entire structure collapsed.

Natasha’s knees roughly hit the floor as she took in the sight. The building that you were in was nothing but broken concrete and rubble. You were buried beneath all of that carnage.

Natasha sobbed without care. She couldn’t give two fucks if people were staring at her with pity or sympathy. She had just lost the love of her life.

Natasha couldn’t help but blame herself. If she had gotten to the room sooner, she could’ve gotten the both of you out of there. You wouldn’t have been crushed by a beam.

She wouldn’t have had to watch as you bled out. She wouldn’t have had to witness firsthand; as the soul she had fallen in love with left the world.

Natasha cried out into the night. The chaos going on around her turned to white noise. Her surroundings were in slow motion as she mourned.

Each tear that fell from her eyes represented each obliterated possibility of a future with the woman she loved.

Each scream that left her mouth served as curses to every higher power there was, for so cruelly taking the love of her life; you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[sukunasun]

FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD | FARMHAND NANAMI KENTO | A STANDALONE FIC

Longing for companionship, your presence draws three very different suitors: the millionaire farmer, Geto Suguru, deserting traveler Sukuna and the devoted farmhand Nanami Kento. Each, in contrasting ways, leaves a mark on your life, unrequited feelings, flirtation, intrigue, and a whirlwind of events ensues.

☉ CONTAINS SMUT / MATERIAL THAT IS RESTRICTED TO ADULTS ☉

a.n. the original source of this work has been deleted so i'm reuploading it again!

oh to be living in a cottage nestled between a forest and a great vast lake as you tend to chickens and baby cows, the garden is blossoming with all sorts of veggies and fruits and you wake up to sunrise cresting over the peaks of mountains that glow in prussian blue and moss green. life is made up of harvesting tomatoes, mending the hems of your white-laced dresses, kneading, rolling, kneading dough for pastries, and maybe once in a while you enjoy a boat ride or two. you ask for nothing but this bliss. although, some days you wish for more, that maybe some company wouldn’t hurt when that title is dedicated to the ducks waddling in a line and the occasional neighbour walking by.

and it doesn't occur to you why you never get visitors, your chimney smokes with the smell of a warm home and roasted potatoes, you keep your messy strands of hair at bay with scarves you buy from the finest haberdashery in town, sometimes you even carry around a book or two to show that you were knowledgable in the arts too, just a good ol’ farmgirl who’s trying her best. but to no avail, the extra cup of tea you boil goes cold and you find yourself about to give up, until you hear a knock against your door.

opening it you find yourself facing a man with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, blond hair shining like a halo, thin silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. “i’m here to assist you with the harvest, you have the worst sense when it comes to tending the land.” he says, without a pause or stutter, judging eyes scanning the fields of green beyond the makeshift fence you built like he’s disgusted by the neglect and lack of attention to detail. (you were going to finish it soon, but found yourself getting distracted by the menial things).

“you can call me nanami.” he introduces himself, apparently he’s from a neighbouring town, had picked up multiple jobs as a farmhand for years and worked long hard hours way into the night. he was sent here because a previous landowner had told him about the trouble you had with the crops and seeds during a particularly harsh winter but just by looking at him now, you know you would become friends.

and this is how the rest of the days play out; you wake up to him plowing through the soil and cutting overgrown grass with a scythe, a muscled sweat-drenched back worn from years of labour on full display as you watch him through the kitchen window. by the afternoon, you hand him rolls of freshly baked bread and vegetable pancakes, together with a glass of cooling mint tea. he says thank you and that’s the end of it, he never asks about your life, speaking very little of it but plenty of how you managed to screw up the one thing guaranteeing your income. and he never touches you, in fact, he’s avoiding it altogether on purpose. how he turns away when your eyes linger too long over his calloused hands, when you wash the laundry on weekends and he catches the sight of your cleavage peeking through a wet chemise, his face turning red before he clears his throat and has to distract himself with his tasks, trying to hide his erection in his trousers.

you know he hears your moans when he leaves late. you’re whimpering for him, calling out to a man to take what he wants, see you for the pretty, wanting thing that you are. you picture him coming home at the end of the day feeling tired and worn out, to catch you in the bed you both share wearing nothing but a smile and warm light, just for him. you want him to find that release in between your thighs, use his tongue or his fingers, playing with you until he’s satisfied. rubbing your clit to the thought of your hardworking farmhand, who never complains, who only gives into you even when he doesn’t think he should. nanami who repairs that fence on the first day because he knows it bothers you most, paints a lacquer over the boat so it lasts longer and you can have more strolls across the lake, who eats every bit of the food you make him because his heart grows twice in size at the thought, the effort, the sentiment behind it.

and it isn’t that he doesn’t want to ravish you against your soft sheets or rut into your soaking pussy by the fireplace when it’s snowing outside, but that he doesn't chase after anything he desires, knowing that it was never to be in his possession. working hard for nothing had been his entire life. so you give up on the whole thing, on the prospect of him ever returning your feelings, that he probably never felt the tension in the air or sense the growing attraction you had for him. you stay friends.

the next season comes along and you’re bringing your seeds, vegetables, and fabrics to be sold at a market. filled with stalls of all sorts, veteran salesmen and old women from the orchards gather, their fine produce tipping the scales in size and weight. they have experience miles ahead compared to you and it’s such a nerve-wracking thing.

“flowers? how peculiar.” a mellow voice says from the front of your stall. looking up you see him giving you a smile, “forgive me, but it isn’t the first item people would deem an essential resource.” he has such kind eyes, long hair twisted in place with a metal rod, the shorter pieces held by a headdress made out of gold. he’s distinguished, smart, looks like he would be highly respected. especially when everyone starts to stare at the two of you.

“you don’t find flowers essential?” you ask, hands coming to cross over your middle, starting to grow insecure. sure, people wouldn’t want to spend on something that would eventually wilt but they were not meant to be kept as decorations, they were symbols of all the nice things you could grow, nurture, and give to a complete stranger just to make their day. he doesn’t falter, meeting your wary eyes with a full smile, his eyes wrinkling at the corners before he breaks out into a chuckle, “i guess i never thought about it.” his voice is the most melodic thing you’ve ever heard.

when he looks around the selection you laid out he perks up when he sees the apple blossoms. “i like these.” picking up a whole bouquet, he leaves two paper notes into your outstretched hands, an amount way too much for just the flowers but he’s fully intentional in the act. not wanting to hear your protests, he’s giving you a wink and makes way to the next stall before you could say anything. “see you soon, blossom.” he chirps while you, gobsmacked and shocked just stand there completely clueless to the fact that geto suguru, millionaire farmer extraordinaire had bought and accepted your humble, homegrown apple blossoms. word on the street and among the agriculture social circles is that it was the only thing he spent money on, even dismissing produce from his own business partners.

soon, he appears at your door every evening, wanting to take you out and lavish you in all the nice things. all while nanami broods and stares at the two of you from afar, watching it all unfold. you learn what it’s like to be in the big city—bright shining lights, long paved roads, a bakery so big you find yourself getting lost—there is nothing like it, and you’re feeling buzzed from the champagne, the caviar, the glitter in the dress he buys for you and the iridescent pearls hanging from your neck. when he asks for your hand in marriage, you think maybe you could get used to it, leave behind your animals and the lake, and the comforts of a simple life, maybe it wasnt meant for you.

and geto is ultimately everything a woman would want; rich, tall, sexy as sin, and so very tempting when he touches you like you were made of stars, hot on the surface and glowing in front of his very eyes. so ethereal, he bathes you in devotion. but your heart can’t seem to grow attached, like there’s a part of him he’s hiding from you and the rest of the world, you can’t put a finger on it. maybe it’s that you’ve never seen his imperfections and flaws, that he’s made so perfect it seems almost too good to be true. going with your instinct, you turn him down and when he announces at a gala that he's settling into his estate with a new wife, just a month after you, it’s enough to make you stop selling flowers at the market.

nanami presses his shoulder into yours, like a rock for you to lean on. he's done well for himself tonight, his own version of an almost rugged, imperfect charm. combing his hair back, and wearing a suit that isn't anything special but how it lays on him is enough to have all the prospecting young girls guessing his marital status. on a moonlit balcony where the two of you are tucked away, he runs his thumb over your cheek as you look at him with confusion. tears running down your face, he wipes them dry with his skin, rough at the feel but gentle when he caresses back and forth, the expanse of his palm coming to rest on your jaw. those large firm hands you've dreamed about now upon you in public, where anyone could see. leaning your head into it, you want to savour as much of it as you can. how such a small act makes you forget all sense and etiquette.

you don't even care and neither does he. "my lack of propriety shall be forgiven, what he has done to you, however, will not." he whispers in a hoarse voice, a little dry when he has yet to say anything the whole night, and you think you would not mind losing every other man just to keep this one.

there’s a thunderstorm on the night when a third man comes into your life. banging against your door so loud you wake in an instant. he stands there drenched in rain and blood, “get me medicine.” he demands, he’s built like a tree, brawny and sturdy with muscle, charging right into your home as if he owned it, moving towards your kitchen and rummaging through shelves. “the only house in the middle of nowhere and you don’t even have bandages?” he groans, blood dripping across your floor. he's only dressed in a long coat and boots and you wonder how he isn't freezing from the cold when he's left bare under it.

you can’t find it in you to turn him away, not when he’s wounded and in pain. “please sit, you’re hurt.” you calm him, grabbing your dresses and splitting them into strips before you clean his wounds and wrap them up in a mix of lace and muslin and linen tied together, just until you get him to a doctor. he’s so exhausted that he falls asleep right in the middle of your living room.

the next morning you find out he’s a traveller, ex-military man turn deserter when he realized he’d rather sail the seas and kill men by his own hand and not by anyone’s orders. "they call me a king where i'm from." he sits up in the pile of blankets and furs you laid out after he dozed off, keeping him warm throughout the night. the cup of tea you made is brought up to his lips and you can't pull your eyes away from his naked form, dense and hard muscle lined with intricate ink, the way his lips part and you catch sight of his teeth, something hot dips in your stomach and you tell yourself to look away now before he notices.

there's so much heat in the air when he's looming over you, the smell of dried blood and this sinister need to fit himself inside you before he cums and leaves for another expedition, how it doesn't matter to him, it's all the same. so vulgar and dirty and sukuna doesn't ask, doesn't make you wait for it, doesn't keep you guessing. you're wanted. desperately, so much so he'd take you right here on the floor. he shows it, unafraid and unabashed.

and you give in, let yourself succumb to the lust. even if it's just for now, even when deep down, you would only be thinking about a bespectacled face and sun freckles and shining, golden hair the colour of straw and sunlight and a meadow filled with autumn leaves, you could pretend like this.

when he tugs at your panties, pulling them down, you think, nanami wouldn't even dare. there's a pang of hurt in your chest, you want him so much, you wished it was him like this, his teeth biting into your neck, fisting at the fabric of your dress and scraping his nails down your thighs—throbbing, grinding, pounding inside you. you let out a whine, keening, begging for a release to set you free from it. nanami, nanami, nanami. you're one and only.

suddenly, there's the sound of a shattering vase, knocked over from where the man of your fantasies stands. it’s when you rush to put your clothes back on that the embarrassment starts to creep up your skin. you feel terrible, guilty almost but why exactly...you didn't know. you don't owe him anything, nanami was your friend—is your friend. and yet, some part of you feels like you've betrayed him. "do not think this means anything." you tell nanami, trying to be direct, to say it with finality, hoping that his tendencies to go soft for you would kick in now, that he would go along with it, give you what you want, your face contrasts his blank expression, still uncertain. if looks could say a thousand words yours would be pleading, 'please, don't leave me.' it was just another body, trying to fit him into a different mold. it was just his hunger and want, his urge to take and to not be sorry for it. how sukuna was everything for one moment, just to taste, to know what it was like.

and when the year ends, nanami fulfills his task then tells you he's leaving for another job somewhere across the ocean, he takes a deep breath, looking down into your eyes as he tries to keep his composure, “i will keep wanting you til i die.” he confesses, it would have been the perfect words to hear, how it's been everything you wanted, but only that now, it's too late.

[polonium-snap]

The Beauty & the Deku chp.3

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

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The ceiling was pinkish brown and wooden, comfortable heat embraced the slowly waking up body of a gorgeous blonde-haired man. Birds tweeted loudly outside his window, as they usually did these days, man fuck those birds, he thought, not only were they disrupting his sleep but they were also a sign he was still trapped in a never-ending nightmare.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get up.” Katsuki sat up on the bed. “You can stop yapping.” His only comfort was knowing at least the damn animals weren’t talking.

As the previous times, he woke up in an unfamiliar room, though this time it seemed more lively, and even if it was still quite far from his own room back at home, it was quieter. Katsuki sighed and stood up, leaving the warmth of his bed to face what was his reality as for now, he changed into some better clothes, noticing with relief that they were comfortable enough.

He went down the stairs where he found the idiots he calls friends making a ruckus and giggling for some reason.

“Let’s make it red.” Kirishima’s voice could be heard.

“No, no, pink.” Mina said authoritatively.

“Isn’t that the same color?” Now that was dunce face.

Katsuki could only thank the sky that they weren’t animals this time. “What are you idiots doing?” The blonde makes his presence known.

They jump to the table, trying to obstruct his view of whatever they were hiding behind and stuttering in a less than conspicuous way.

“We want you to pick some berries.” Kirishima said, handing him a basket.

“Yes, exactly!” Kaminari said, further cementing the fact they are hiding something from Bakugou.

The logic of Katsuki’s new approach to finding a way out of this hellhole would say he refuses to do anything they ask of him, but he thinks he knows what story they are in now, he knew it as soon as Bakugou saw three of his friends in ridiculous color-coded outfits that brought more childhood memories, he was in Sleeping Beauty. He had to go to the forest to supposedly look for berries so he would find his stupid childhood friend, Deku, who for some reason was always prince charming in these stories, while Katsuki was stuck in uncomfortable dresses.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll go.” He rolled his eyes because showing disdain was the only thing that was not censored in this shitty world. He takes the basket and pretends he doesn’t know the three idiots are planning for a birthday party or something like that.

Katsuki would never admit it, but he had missed his friends, and seeing them in animal form did not count as actually interacting with them, seeing them in their usual antics was a breath of fresh air the blonde needed.

He makes his way out of the house and walks straight to the forest, fuming, because he is still mad at Deku and since they are done with the follow-the-story bullshit he can kick the green-haired menace as much as he wants. Katsuki ignores the animals that follow him around, only lightly greeting them, as he has accepted their permanent existence next to him.

“DEKUUUUU!!!” Katsuki bellows as hard as his vocal cords allow. “Where are you? You useless bastard!!!” He screams some more.

After some minutes of yelling, the little fucked decides to answer. “Kacchan?” Izuku says, appearing seemingly from nowhere with a white horse.

“Deku.” Bakugou grins maniacally. “Prepare to die, nerd.” He impulsed himself toward Izuku, whose eyes widened in panic and surprise.

“Wait, wait! Kacchan!” Izuku flailed his hands around, but the blond did not stop, tackling him to the ground. “Uff!” Deku said as they hit the ground and felt the weight of his friend crash into him.

“I’m still incredibly angry at the stunt you pulled off in the last story.” Katsuki explained. “You literally had ONE job, while I slaved around cleaning that crappy house, and you managed to mess it up!” He growled. “So don’t complain too much while I kill you.” The angry straddled Izuku and raised his hand.

“No, wait!” Izuku cried. “I-IthinkIknowhowtogetoutofhere!” He said quickly, making the other stop on his tracks.

He wasn’t actually going to punch Deku, not that the little twerp needed to know that. “What did you say?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow and took his fist away from the other teen’s face.

“I think I know how to get out of here.” Izuku stated.

“Do tell.” Kasuki said, still sitting down on Deku’s lap, which didn’t escape the notice of the green-eyed man, who blushed profusely.

“Let’s stand up first, Kacchan.” Izuku said, trying very hard not to stare at the cleavage that was so close to his face, enhanced by the loose clothing the blonde wore.

Katsuki blustered and stood up, wordlessly offering a hand to Izuku, which he took just as silently since he knew better than to point them out.

They started to walk through the forest. “Why didn’t you do what you were supposed to in the last story?” The taller man asked. “Did you hate kissing me that much?” Katsuki snorted, but he was unsure why an affirmative answer would hurt him so much.

“I-I didn’t- I d-d-don’t! I j-j-just!” Izuku stuttered, unable to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell his longtime crush that one of the reasons he didn’t want to kiss him was that he liked it too much and it hurt knowing it meant nothing? “I just couldn’t do it while you were unconscious!” It wasn’t a lie. “I felt disgusting.” Also, not a lie, kissing Kacchan while he was asleep felt like Izuku was forcing himself on someone that clearly didn’t like him that way.

“You are so stupid.” Katsuki said, somewhat relieved, Deku had said he didn’t hate it. “But it’s whatever, Deku.”

“Right.”

They continued walking until they reached a clearing, where Katsuki sat down on a nearby rock and rested his arms on a bigger one near it, smirking at Izuku. “So you said you know how to get out of here?” He said, thinking the other had just said that to get the other to abstain from hitting him. “It better not be your way of trying to convince me to go along with the story again.”

“I-it’s not.” Izuku said, blushing at how the other man looked and his new idea of a way out of this nightmare. “I was just thinking…”

“Dangerous.” Katsuki interrupted, continuing with his teasing. “Each time you do that we end up in an even more forked up situation than with what we started.” He never stopped smirking.

“Shut up!��� Izuku continued to blush. “If you don’t want to hear my idea, that’s fine.” He turned away from his friend's hot smile.

Katsuki laughed. “Sorry nerd, it’s just that your last idea didn’t exactly work.” He said. “Besides, you said that if it didn’t work you would let me do my idea next, that’s just doing the opposite from what the story said.”

Izuku huffed. “How would that even work?” He crossed his arms.

The blonde rolled his eyes. “What is your new idea anyway?”

The shorter teen looked away, his cheeks slightly burning, originally he wasn’t actually going to say what he had been thinking about, he had said it on impulse, even though he knew Kacchan wouldn’t actually hit him.

“Well?” Katsuki insisted. “Aren’t you going to enlighten me with your amazing ideas?” He continued sarcastically.

“I-it’s just…” Izuku breathed, debating telling the other what he was thinking. “Y-you know how the last two stories only ended because we k-k-kissed?”

Bakugou’s eyes widened, immediately catching on to what Deku was trying to say, the worst was it did make sense, the last two stories had ended when they kissed, well. When Katsuki had kissed Izuku since the other hadn’t had the chance either of the times to kiss back.

“M-m-m-maybe i-if we did it again, we could move onto the next story?” Izuku finished explaining.

Katsuki fought a blush. “S-say we do t-t-that, what do we do once we get to the next story?” He asked

“I g-gu-guess we could continue to k-k-k-kiss until there are no more fairy tales?” Izuku said, though he completely expected the idea to be rejected.

“It could...work.” Katsuki admitted with an uncharacteristically quiet, pink dusting his cheeks, which he hid by turning away from Izuku.

There was a deafening silence, so much so he could feel the sparks of tension between them, pushing and pulling simultaneously. Red eyes lock on green, triggering even more the thick air between them as the color of their eyes shone even brighter with indescribable emotions.

“...Good, cool, cool, cool, cool.” Izuku muttered, unsure of what to do next, does he get closer to the other teen, or should he wait for the blond to initiate. “Should we...try it now?”

“Yeal,” Katsuki said breathlessly. “I mean, the faster we do this the sooner we’ll know if it works, right?” He tentatively stepped forward, not one to be a coward. “Or did you lie and you actually hate kissing me?” He teased as he was unsure of what to do with himself.

“No!” Deku replied too fast, blushing instantly. “I mean, no, it wasn’t bad, I guess.” He tried to be nonchalant. “I was just making sure you were ready.” He followed the knee-jerking response he had to Kacchan of accepting every challenge the blond implied.

Slowly they got closer.

Unlike last time, they weren’t rushed, didn’t feel the frustration to be done with the story as they had previously, this time they were obligated to look into each other and watch as luscious plump lips closed the heated distance between them.

Izuku couldn’t breathe, mesmerized by the sight in front of him and the warm breath that heated further his cheeks and tickled his nose.

Their lips met softly, making a complete contrast to their previous kisses, Katsuki lightly touched Izuku’s cheek with his hand, and Deku couldn’t help the need to place his hands on the blond’s hips. The kiss seemed to short, only serving to make Izuku crave more.

“...So...it didn’t work.” Katsuki said, not yet removing his hand.

“Y-Yeah.” Izuku mumbled back, also not taking his hands away.

Katsuki seemed to react first, slightly jumping away from Deku. “I-I think I need to go back to the three idiots cabin.”

Izuku jumps away too, as soon as his brain is able to process what had happened to a passable degree. “Oh, yeah! Of course! See you later, K-Kacchan!”

The blond turns away and starts walking away before stopping suddenly. “By the way, you can kiss me whenever.”

Izuku’s mouth snapped shut, the redness from his cheeks that just barely had seemed to calm down returned in full force.

“I-I mean! If it’s to get out of the story.” Bakugou amends, uncharacteristically embarrassed.

Deku almost is unable to contain the disappointment that spreads through him. “Of course…”

Katsuki berated himself all the way back to the house, what even was that back there with Deku? Why was he, Lord Explosion Murder, who is never embarrassed stuttering and tripping over his words? Not to mention the kiss, he definitely enjoyed it more than he should, prolonged it more than he should have.

Who would have known Deku was such a good kisser? It had to be that, right? That was the only possible reason he liked the kiss so much.

He needed to get out of his head, and thankfully taking care of his extras was exactly what could do so.

“There he is!” Said Kaminari, glad to see him, as Kirishima and Ashido turned to look at him too.

“Happy Birthday, bro!” Kirishima said, shoving a cake onto his face, while Mina presented him with a beautifully crafted outfit; a blue dress-inspired shirt with a wide cleavage with same-colored pants and a darker shade cape.

Bakugou smiled despite himself, it wasn’t anywhere near his birthday, though the praise of his (thankfully human-looking) friends was certainly but secretly appreciated. “How did you idiots even manage to make this cake and not set the house on fire?”

“Uhhhh…about that.” Denki looked at his friends less than subtly, at which they returned the unease with equally inconspicuous looks. “We have something very important to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kirishima confirmed.

“You should sit for this honey,” Mina said, suddenly serious.

The blond teen rolled his eyes, honestly, he should have started to do whatever the fuck he wanted long ago, but he strangely decided to humor his friends, NOT because he liked them and missed them, not at all, Katsuki was just in a generous mood.

“We,” Kirishima started and pointed to himself and the other two extras. “Are fairies, we were tasked by the king to take care of you until you turned 16, due to a sleeping curse that is to end today.”

Katsuki acted shocked just because he could. “Oh, word?”

“Now you need to get ready sweetie, you are going to marry a prince and we have to prepare.” Mina said, grabbing the newly made outfit with the intention of dressing Bakugou.

“Yes, yes, prince Izuku this, prince Izuku that.” Katsuki rolled his eyes at the thought of the nerd.

The three fairies shared a confused look. “Who is Izuku?” Kaminari asked.

“We were talking about Prince Philip.” Said Kirishima.

“WHat?” Katsuki yelled. “Who on Earth is that? I’m not marrying some random extra!” He protested.

“Why not?” Mina asked.

“There’s already someone I…” Katsuki paused, realizing what he was just about to say. “I would rather marry someone I know rather than some dude I just met…”

“You met someone?” Kirishima asked, surprised.

“NO, yes, maybe.” Katsuki stuttered. “In the forest, there was this guy, a total dumb nerd, but I guess he is torelable enough, kind of funny, and stubborn, anyways, he is definitely better than some Prince Philip.”

Ashido looks at him with something like sorrow. “Sorry hun, you’ve been betrothed to him since you were born, you have to marry him or there will literally be a war”

While Katsuki was well aware he was trying to purposefully change the story, he did not want to deal with a war at the moment. It never occurred to him that the prince might not be Izuku, it never seemed like a possibility, and he couldn’t quite understand why it was so upsetting.

He wondered who the prince would end up being.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku went back to the castle he had woken up in, finding out All Might was once again his father for the tale, which he was in part very happy about, but at the same time sad he didn’t exactly count on the time to enjoy.

“Al- Dad!” Deku said once he saw the oddly dressed Toshinori.

“Oh, my boy!” All Might said. “Where have you been all morning? We have so much to prepare for your wedding to the prince.”

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I’m just...uhm...exited?” Izuku said. “I mean, at first I wasn’t sure, but now I’m glad I’m marrying him.”

“My boy Izuku,” All Might smiled. “I’m so glad you have come around, I knew prince Aurelio would be a good match for you.”

“Wait, who?!” Izuku’s eyes widened.

“Prince Aurelio, the one you have been betrothed to since you were children.” All Might raised an eyebrow.

“No no no, I’m going to marry prince Katsuki!” the young man said, unnerved by the newfound information.

Toshinori paused for a moment. “There is no prince on this side of the world named Katsuki.” He said slowly, looking at increasingly more nerve-wracked Izuku with worry.

That’s right, Kacchan and him being both the main leads in every story was never a hard-cold fact. That thought didn’t help Izuku at all, they had just started to figure things out when again there were new issues to deal with?! He had to marry some random prince he didn’t know, and for what? Kacchan wasn’t even following the story currently, which right about now sounded very appealing to Izuku who while was more than ok kissing his childhood friend definitely did not feel the same way about some prince who was probably way older than he was.

He needed to speak with Kacchan.

“Look, you don’t have to marry prince Aurelio if you have someone you actually love.” All Might assured, patting the back of his panicked son in a loving manner. “I’ll just have to talk to the king and everything will be alright.”

Izuku bit his lip, he had been an advocate for following the story so far, but now he had his doubts. “I-I already have someone I want to marry, and it’s not prince Aurelio.”

“Alright, my boy.” All Might smiled, but then he sighed. “Your mother won’t be happy, you know? She is good friends with the queen.”

“My mom?” Izuku muttered, missing her dearly. “You mean my mom Inko?” He said making sure he was talking about her and not some woman who was supposed to be his mother in the story.

“Who else?” All might said, besotted with the mention of the green-haired woman.

Huh. Izuku thought this was the second time All Might and Inko were his parents and apparently married, happily. He was aware this world took real elements from his reality, which made him wonder if this relationship between his mom and his mentor held some truth to it.

“Who is this Katsuki you want to marry anyway?” Toshinori asked, curious as to who had captured his son’s heart.

“Oh, about that.” Izuku remembered his intention to go look for Kacchan in order to talk about the current situation. “I have to go find him, I mean, I have to introduce you to him.”

All Might laughed and side hugged Izuku in a way that mitigated some of the unease the green-haired teen had been feeling for a while. Izuku found himself very happy to see All Might so carefree, apparently devoid of any injury and restored to his old self. “All right, you go do that, I’ll talk the king out of a war, although now that I think about it, it might be the queen who I will have to talk to.”

“See you later All M- dad!” Izuku said, the taller man had looked hurt when Izuku apparently called him by the nickname All Might had gained in a war, instead of calling him dad, so Izuku had caved and called the man so only because he knew that it wasn’t the real Toshinori.

Deku mounted his horse and started to go on his way to the cabin Katsuki had mention waking up, they needed to talk.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

The castle was bigger than the one Katsuki had seen in Cinderella and Snow White, the atmosphere also looked brighter. As soon as he figured he was in Sleeping Beauty Katsuki had been determined to just not fall asleep, after biting the apple Shigaraki had given him in the last story he had had weird dreams he remembered nothing about. Besides, he had always wondered why Aurora went and got herself prickled with the fucking spinning wheel.

Anyway, that was not going to him, he strengthened his resolve as he entered the castle, rolling his eyes as he was told that his parents in this story wanted to see him just after his wedding to, ugh, Prince Philip.

“So they don’t see me for 16 years and the first time they want to marry me off to some weirdo, that’s nice.” He said sarcastically.

“People say he is very handsome, you know.” Kaminari said, now in what Katsuki supposed was his fairy outfit.

“Who cares if the sun shines out of his ass.” Cool, ass itself was not a swear word, praise the gods. “I don’t want to marry him, and I’ll be such a jerk he won’t either.”

“Wow, you really must be in love with the guy you met in the forest.” Mina commented in awe, in a pretty pink outfit.

Katsuki spluttered, turning red. “I DO NOT LIKE DEKU!!” He screeched. “H-he is a lame nerd, we could never be together.” He turned to look outside the window. He and Izuku were friends, now that Katsuki had gotten his head out of his ass and stopped having his superiority complex triggered by his childhood friend, but years of miscommunication and misguided aggression could be easily ignored.

Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari guided him to his room and fixed him up in a blue outfit they had made for him, although Mina and Eijiro still argued over the color.

“We’ll be right back!” Kirishima said as he and the other two went out to do who knows what.

Katsuki sighed and looked at his reflection, he didn’t know why on earth he was still entertaining this stupidity his friends had told him to, he had said he would fuck shit up in this story because he was tired of going along with it, why exactly had he been doing exactly the opposite? Either way, there was no way he was going to ever marry some random dude, even if it was what got him out of here, he and Deku would figure out another way.

Suddenly he felt like he was underwater, he couldn’t think or feel.

He was an outsider of his own body as he stood up, slowly walking in an unknown direction through the swirling stairs and hallways. His senses were asleep and his mind seemed submerged in a thick substance that forbade him from controlling himself.

Abruptly he was vaguely aware of the door in front of him and as Katsuki opened it he was overwhelmed by green, but not the calm deep forest green he had come to like through the years, but a toxic acidic green burning his eyes with its power, although he felt nothing but nausea.

There was no pain as his finger touched the sharp end of the needle, just the acid spreading through his body as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell unconscious.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

It had happened again, and really Katsuki should have expected it. Every Time he's out there doing god’s work and saving people, the world decides to fuck him over, he is actually fine with it, he has come to expect it. Katsuki is cursed and he knows it, the problem is that Deku is fucking cursed too, even more than he is for some goddam reason, and one would think bad luck plus bad luck would cancel each other out because that is the logical thing, right? Well, logic flies out when it concerns Katsuki and Izuku.

It is his bad karma making him repent, Katsuki recons.

At first, Katsuki would be offended Aizawa-sensei called him problem child #2, but honestly now with all the bullshit Katsuki goes through every single time he inexplicably sees himself end up involved in some villain’s conspiracy he can’t even deny it.

Which all of this is a roundabout way to say he and Deku got themselves in another fight with older more experienced villains when they are barely in their third year of high school.

They were supposed to do a simple patrol, it was supposed to be easy, but of course, Deku being Deku he had snooped around the agency and recalled the face of some suspected criminal who just happened to walk past them.

“I swear Kacchan, I saw him on the file Hawks was looking at when he welcomed us,” Deku insisted. “We need to follow him.”

“Ok, first of all you can’t call me that fucking kiddie name when we are in costume,” Katsuki scolded, though Izuku at least had the decency to look sorry. “Second, Aizawa specifically told us to only report suspicious activity and not to engage.”

“K- uh, Dynamyght, Aizawa-sensei said that to everybody.”

Katsuki looked at him with a blunt expression. “He said and I quote ‘I swear to god if you get in trouble I’ll expell you, problem children’ while looking at us.”

“Yeah, ok, but Kacchan he’s going to get away.” Izuku said, as they inconspicuously followed the presumed villain as they had yet to come to a decision. “Do you know what he is suspected of doing? They think he is the one that collects children and gives them to All for One!”

The blonde hesitated. “Fine, we’ll call back up.” The other boy frowned, knowing how long backup might take, moreover when it was not even a confirmed sighting.

“Think of the children!” Deku hissed, determined. “Besides, this will look amazing on our record, and may even help us climb ranks when we graduate!”

Dynamyght was nothing if not ambitious, also the children. “God damn it stupid Deku!” He hissed back. “This better not end in a disaster.”

Deku beamed and Katsuki scowled, as was his trained response to that disarming smile.

They carefully followed the suspect; tall with, black hair, yellow eyes, and a weird tattoo on his left eye. Silence trailed them too, even with the considerable amount of people on the street. The presumed villain turns the corner to an alley, where Katsuki and Deku follow several seconds later.

“Shouldn't have followed, mini heroes.” The man said, without even turning around.

Katsuki is about to tell him to shut the fuck up and fight when a hand appears behind him and covers his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. He struggles and is vaguely aware Deku is in a similar situation. Strength escapes the blonde and staying awake is harder as seconds pass by, his head swims and all he can do is muster his best glare as he topples to the ground.

“There’s a quirk I’ve been dying to try.” The man, who looks to be about thirty, smirks.

Katsuki blacks out.

He wakes up tied up and unable to use his quirk, whether it is because of the remnants of the chloroform or because of anti-quirk restraints is unclear. He looks around dazedly, he spots Deku slouched on the floor, no doubt still knocked out and a little girl in the fetal position sobbing in one corner of the dirty basement they were trapped in.

“Hey, you ok, kid?” Katsuki calls and hopes his speech is not too slurred.

The girl sobbed harder. He groaned lowly in frustration and slowly with the little strength he had recovered since he woke up he struggles his way to the small kid, about seven years old.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, you know.” Bakugou had never been good with comforting people, but he tried. “Me and him are actually heroes in training.”

“...Really?” The little girl lifted up her tear-stained face, she had light purple shoulder-length hair and blazing orange eyes.

“Yes really.” He assures her. “Even if we can’t get you out, there will be people looking for us, so don’t give those assholes what they want and keep strong.”

A determined look courses through the girl's face. “Allright, mister hero!”

“Call me Dynamight.” Katsuki corrects as gently as he can.

“My name is Lily.” She says he notices she has a thick book she clutches with all her might.

“Nice to meet you, or whatever.” The book bothers him, why would kidnappers ever let the kid keep anything? “What do you have there, Lily?”

“Oh, this is my favorite book! My mom always reads it to me before sleeping.” She smiles slightly, which Katsuki is glad to see, as this must be a stressful situation for a kid like her. “It’s got all my favorite fairy tales from the movies!”

Katsuki smiles lightly at her. “That is amazing, kid.”

A loud groan from the floor diverted their attention.

Deku lifted his head from the floor, though his tied hands made it difficult to rise from the ground. “K-Kacchan…” He whined.

“Finally up, you piece of sh-trash.” Katsuki amended.

“Where are we?” Izuku asked, clearly still fighting the effects of the drug the villains used to put them unconscious.

“Fu- Hell if I know.”

Deku turned to Lily. “Hi sweety, what is your name?”

She introduced herself timidly and Deku did the same, offering her a smile. Katsuki was glad the other boy had awakened, as he was better at dealing with people than the blonde was, though he still made one or two comments to the conversation they maintained, the little girl coaxing the answers out of him.

The relative pleasantness of the conversation disappeared when the basement’s door opened, revealing the man from earlier, along with his henchmen.

“Take them upstairs.” The black-haired man said.

“Yes, boss.” His henchmen replied in unison, bypassing their leader and lifting up the two teenagers and the girl.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKERS, LET’S FIGHT LIKE REAL MEN!” Katsuki struggled as hard as he could, and Deku tried to do the same.

I was ultimately useless, and they were dropped in the ground of the upper floor, which was still very much disgusting. They sat the girl on a chair and the leader approached her, with the fairy tale book in his hands, he dropped it carelessly on the floor, where it landed open.

“Show us what you can do.” He smirked at the girl and the heroes in training.

Katsuki growled and Deku glared, Lily predictably was sobbing.

“I don’t have time to waste, little girl.” The leader growled when Lily didn’t immediately use her quirk, and he yanked the poor girl's hair, making Izuku and Katsuki trash harder on their binds. “If you don’t want to die, use your quirk on those two useless heroes.”

The girl cried harder, shaking her head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”, she said as she raised her hands, probably to use her quirk.

Izuku shook his head, smiling sadly at the girl. “It’s not your fault Lily, the pro heroes will save us soon enough.”

Katsuki gave a short nod in agreement, if anyone was at fault it was these stupid asshole villains.

The girl’s eyes and hands glowed a reddish-orange that started to permeate the room to the point Katsuki had to close his eyes at the strong light as darkness overtakes him. He promptly loses consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku gets to the cabin a few hours later, although it seems no one answers when he knocks on the door. He opens it, just to be sure Kacchan is not there and to have a clue as to where he might have gone. He enters with tentative steps into the darkness of the place, where a sinister laugh greets him.

Hundreds of minions attack him before he can even defend himself as they tie him up and gag him, holding him in place in front of a black figure.

It looks like Kurogiri is the Maleficent in this story, which Izuku guesses is fitting enough, although he notes the usual purpleness of the villain has turned to a sour green.

“I set a trap for a peasant and look here, I caught a prince.” He laughs when Izuku glares at him as the gag and ties prevent anything else.

Izuku is dragged to Kurogiri’s run-down castle, they put him in a cell and shackle his hands and feet. If he had his quirk he could have easily broken the bounds, but not having it does not stop him from struggling against the iron chains.

The green-haired prince sighs and throws himself at the bench, wondering how Katsuki is.

However there is not enough time to lament his situation, as out of nowhere fairy sized Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari appear.

“Prince Philip!” Kirishima said as he starts shooting red magic off his wand into breaking the shackles that keep him bound.

“Who?” Izuku said, confused. “My name is Izuku.” He said.

The three fairies gasp. “You are the one prince Aurelio met in the forest.”

“No no, I have never met Aurelio.” Izuku reassured them. “But never mind that, where is Kac-Katsuki?”

Kaminari laughed as he broke the lock of the door. “Katsuki is Aurelio, we had to change his name so he wouldn’t get recognized.”

“Oh.” Izuku said, remembering princess Aurora had gone by Rose the first part of the movie.

Ashido spoke then, interrupting his thoughts. “Guys, we don’t have the time for this, we need to go!” She rushed them.

Izuku immediately straightened up, only half hearing Kirishima’s explanation as he was given a shield and a sword. They speed out the room, not without alerting Kurogiri’s ugly crow, which immediately started squawking in alert. The stairs were full of minions throwing all types of weapons at Izuku, but he skillfully deflected them and somehow they were able to make it out of the castle where the incessant attacks continued as Izuku tried to get to his horse in order to escape.

Rocks and arrows rained from the sky, but thankfully Kirishima, Ashido, and Kaminari turned them into bubbles and flowers with magic, which Izuku thought was pretty neat.

The dashing prince managed to get atop his horse and raced to the castle and with outstanding strength was able to cut all the spiky vines that barricaded the place Katsuki was trapped in asleep.

Upon cutting his way through the vines, Kurogiri teleports in front of him, furious. Then he turns into a dragon, at which Izuku looks for a more open area where he won’t be burnt to flames, swinging his sword at the reptile as it shoots green fire out his mouth.

In the process he somehow manages to break one of his left-hand fingers and lose his shield, he hissed in pain as he stared down the abyss. The dragon seemingly laughs, thinking they have won, but the three fairies hover over Izuku, overloading the sword with so much magic it shines. In a last-ditch effort to win, Izuku throws the sword with all his remaining strength and lets out a sigh of relief when it pierces right through the dragon’s heart.

Kurogiri stumbled into the abyss, where Izuku once the threat has been eliminated does not even bother looking back as he sprints toward the castle, bypassing the sleeping peasants, the guards, and even All Might and Kacchan’s parents, who appear just as unconscious as the rest.

Finally, he arrives at Katsuki’s room, where the blonde lies, his face slack with sleep, unmoving but still beautiful.

Izuku breathes in, Katsuki had given him permission to kiss him, even if it only was to get out of a story.

He leaned in and kissed his childhood friend, whose lips were as soft as they had been earlier in the day.

Katsuki’s red eyes slowly opened, blinking away the sleep. “You idiot.” He said, because what else would the explosive boy say? “You were Prince Philip?”

Izuku laughed. “I guess.”

He was about to tell the other teen they needed to go downstairs to greet their parents, but the world started to turn white again, as it did every time a new story was about to start.

Izuku braced himself.