#i have a few more looks in mind for him but still pretty happy with how this turned out

[katsu28]

love you always

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: lando plans a series of surprises for you on valentine's day. (2.4k)

a/n: happy valentine's day my loves!! here's something sweet <3 believe it or not it's 3AM and i wrote this all in one go so if you see any errors no you don't ;)

The surprises start first thing in the morning. 

Lando is up and out of the house for training long before you even stir, but made sure you woke up to something nice. When you shuffle out to the kitchen in much need of coffee to get your day going, you’re pleasantly surprised by a full pot of the good coffee made with beans you’ve always saved for special occasions, and pastries from your favorite bakery. 

A little note beside the box of mouthwatering baked goods reads a message from your boyfriend. 

happy valentine’s day, my love. sorry i couldn’t be there when you woke up, but i hope these make you smile. be on the lookout for more surprises today <3 love you always - LN 

The second surprise is waiting for you when you make your way to work. You’ve barely just walked into the office when you’re approached by Cass, one of your closest work friends. 

“Girl, you are one lucky bitch. I’d die if my man got me something like that,” She gushes, eyes gleaming. You squint at her in confusion.

“Sorry, what?” You say, unsure. She just smiles knowingly, tilting her head towards your cubicle. It isn’t until you lay eyes on your desk that you see what she’s talking about. 

A giant bouquet of red roses with baby’s breath scattered amongst the bunch sits on your chair, wrapped in colorful paper and tied together with a string. Nestled in it is another note from Lando, this one with the message embossed on crisp cardstock—

told you i’d have more surprises :) if i know you (and i’m pretty sure i do), you’re too caught up with the roses to notice the other thing, so look on your desk. maybe wear it tonight? love you always - LN

Lando is right, you hadn’t noticed the small box sitting right in the middle of your desk, seemingly nothing until you open it carefully.

A necklace sparkles out at you—a pendant of your birthstone, hanging on a delicate chain. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and another beautiful necklace to add to the ever growing collection of jewelry Lando’s gifted you in your time together. 

Wear it tonight. 

There was no doubt that Lando had planned a date for tonight, but you’d been unsuccessful in weaseling any details out of him these past few days leading up to today. 

“Can you just tell me what you’ve got planned?” You whine, pouting over at Lando where he’s putting away his shirts in the wardrobe. “Like, what restaurant are we going to?”

“Um, no.” He shoots you a look that screams judgement, but you know it’s all in good nature. “That would completely ruin the surprise.” 

“But I need to figure out what I’m going to wear,” You reason, sitting up quickly. Lando pins you to the spot with another disapproving look that you ignore, digging in your metaphorical heels. “What if I show up looking like an absolute slob because you didn’t tell me it was somewhere fancy? That would be your fault, not mine.” 

Lando finishes his task, coming over to the bed where you’re sat cross-legged, and props himself up on his elbows right in front of you. “First of all, you never look like a slob. Even when you’re on the last day of your hair wash cycle and you’ve just come back from a run, you’re still the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

“That’s disgusting, but…oddly sweet of you.” 

“Second of all,” He says pointedly, poking you in the leg for interrupting him, “If I tell you where I’ve made reservations, you’ll spend all day thinking about it and you’ll freak yourself out like you tend to do. So no, I’m not telling you what I’ve got planned.” 

Well, no one can ever say Lando doesn’t know you. He knows you too well, really. Knows your tendencies, exactly what’ll be running through your mind.  

“I hate how perfect you are,” You sniff, wrinkling your nose at him. 

“Yeah, I love you too, baby.” 

You know Lando is probably busy with training so you don’t call him, but you do shoot him a thank you text, to which he returns with a whole slew of love related emojis. 

You’re not usually one to enjoy being showered with gifts, but the fact that he’s planned all these surprises to make sure you know he’s thinking of you has butterflies fluttering in your chest. 

Lando never ceases to make you feel so loved, all the time, even when he’s not physically there with you. 

You’re hard at work when your Cass calls your name around noon, drawing you out of your focus. 

“Hey, there’s a food delivery person asking for you at the front desk.” 

“Are you sure? I didn’t order anything,” You reply, brows creased in curiosity. 

You hadn’t ordered anything, but thinking about food makes you realize you’d completely forgotten to pack your lunch before you’d left the house this morning. Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing it in the fridge on the shelf where it usually is. 

She shrugs. “They’re asking for you.”

You thank Cass quickly, making your way to the lobby to meet the delivery person. 

“Hi!” You say politely. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I didn’t order anything. Maybe you’ve got the wrong address?”

One look at the restaurant name on the bag almost has you taking back your words, because it’s from your favorite little cafe in the city, and if you take a deep enough breath, you can almost smell the mouthwatering aroma wafting from the paper bag. 

The poor delivery driver looks as puzzled as you feel. She blinks, looking at something on her phone before tilting her head. “Uh, I don’t think so? The system said the order was placed by a Bob N? Do you know a Bob that would order takeaway to this address?” 

You have to fight the urge to laugh. Of course it was Lando who’d ordered takeaway. Another Valentine’s Day surprise for you, it seems. 

“Wow, I’m so sorry for the confusion. My boyfriend, he must’ve had it sent here without letting me know,” You explain, feeling your cheeks blaze warm. “Yes, it’s for me.” 

“Oh my god, that’s so cute! Your boyfriend is so sweet!” She gushes, passing over the bag.

“Yeah, he is,” You chuckle. “Thank you so much, have a great day! Sorry again for the mix up.” 

“You too, happy Valentine’s Day!” 

Upon opening the bag when you get back to your desk, you see something tucked in beside the takeaway container. Yet another note, not printed nor in his handwriting, so he’d probably made a special request for the restaurant to write it. 

hope you’re hungry! enjoy your lunch, baby. day’s halfway over, see you soon <3 love you always - Bob

This time, you do call Lando as you munch on your food. 

“Hi, baby!” You chirp happily. 

“Hey, you,” He greets back, sounding glad to hear your voice. He always does whenever you give him a ring. “What’s up?” 

“How’d you know I’d forgotten my lunch?” 

“What? You did? No way!” Lando sounds a little too smug to be innocent, and it isn’t hard to connect the dots now. 

You chuckle, a little disbelieved. “Did you seriously hide my lunch just so you could have takeaway delivered to my office?” 

“I did no such thing. Did I accidentally toss it out whilst I was taking out the rubbish last night? Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we?” 

“Sure we won’t. Thank you, by the way. I’ve been craving this all week.” 

“I know. Heard you muttering about it in your sleep the other night. Fuckin’ weirdo.” You can almost imagine him grinning that big toothy smile of his that you love, shaking his head at you. “Anyways, good news. I managed to convince Jon to let me off early today, so I can pick you up from work.” 

“Really? How’d you swing that?” 

“Might’ve let it slip I’ve got something special planned for us tonight and he caved. That man is such a sucker for love, it’s crazy.” 

“So you’ll tell your trainer what we’re doing tonight, but you won’t tell me? That’s messed up, Norris,” You say teasingly. He laughs. 

“Well, he’s not the one I’m trying to surprise, you muppet. You’ll find out soon enough, don’t you worry,” Lando tuts. You hear someone say something on his end of the line that Lando gives a muffled reply to, but he’s back before you know it. “M’sorry, I gotta get back to it. I’ll see you at five?” 

“I’ll be waiting. Tell Jon I say hi and thanks for giving you some freedom today. Love you always!” 

“Love you always.” 

-------

The rest of the workday goes by without any more Lando surprises, but you’re still nearly buzzing with energy because of the fact you get to see him earlier than you’d expected. After a long day of work, your wonderful boyfriend is just what you need. 

You see him through the doors before he sees you. He’s leaning against the side of his sleek Porsche, cap backwards on his head as he squints through the waning sunlight in search of you and looking unfairly handsome while doing so. You even pause to snap a sneaky photo of him because he just looks so good. 

When you finally exit the building, Lando beams, holding a hand up in greeting. 

“Hi, gorgeous.” He smiles, leaning in for a kiss as soon as you get within arms’ length of him. “Missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Lan.” You mean it. Even though you’ve only been apart for a workday, he’s been on your mind throughout it. You don’t know how you survive race weeks without being with him all the time. 

“Ready to go home?” 

“Never been more ready. Maybe I’ll worm some information about tonight out of you on the way.” 

“Sneaky girl. Right, I’ll tell you this, it’s a nice restaurant. Somewhere we’ve been before.” 

“But not my favorite restaurant, because you already got me food from there today.” 

“Observant, aren’t you? No, not that one.” He opens the passenger side door for you to get in and you do, wracking your brain for any idea of where Lando would be taking you in a few hours. “Alright, don’t think too hard about it. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself now.” 

“Rude.” 

“Look, is it alright for me to lightly suggest what I think you could wear?” He asks, pulling out of the car park and onto the road. You shoot him a look that tells him to be careful, but still nod slowly. “That dress that I like. The swishy one with the thin straps that make your boobs look—” 

“Lando.” 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little carried away,” He says sheepishly. “But yeah, that one would be perfect.” 

“That’s a nice one,” You hum, tilting your head in thought. “You’ve got good taste after all.” 

“Um, yeah, I know. I bought it.” 

-------

You’ve got on the dress that Lando suggested, but there’s one thing you always forget about this specific one. The zipper on the back is near impossible for you to get all the way up on your own. No matter how hard you try, you’ve always had to get Lando to help you that last bit. 

“Lan, could you c’mere a second?” You call down the corridor. Footsteps echo right away, and then he’s in the doorway, adjusting the cuff of his dress shirt with intense focus. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Could you zip me?” 

“Could I—oh, fuck.” 

You make eye contact in the mirror in front of you and Lando freezes right where he is, mouth ajar, blinking at you like he can’t believe you’re real and in front of him. 

“Help?” You urge, fighting an amused smile at how absolutely floored he looks. 

He gives his head a shake, rushing over to help you. Shaky fingers slide the delicate zipper up until it’s good. “Sorry, I just—every time you wear that dress I think I forget how to breathe a little bit.” 

“I’m flattered.” 

“You should be. Baby, you look absolutely beautiful.” His gaze flits to your necklace, the new one you’d gotten today, and his mouth curves into a smile. “That’s a nice one. Wonder who got it for you?” 

“My boyfriend, actually. Dunno if you know him, but he’s kinda the best. Massive forehead though.” 

“Oh, you’re funny,” He huffs, nose wrinkling in overdramatic offense that makes you giggle. “Kiss?” 

“You’d have my lipstick all over your mouth.” 

“Does it look like I care? I wanna kiss you.” 

Rolling your eyes playfully, you let him kiss you. While you’re expecting a short kiss, Lando takes it a step further, two hands sliding behind you to dip you backwards a little bit to deepen it. To say you’re taken by surprise is a slight understatement, but you go with what he’s doing. 

You kiss him until you’re breathless, pulling back with a hand splayed over his chest. 

Lando grins goofily with lipstick smudges all over his mouth. “Totally worth it,” He says, looking absolutely giddy.

Once you’ve reapplied what had rubbed off on Lando, you’re off through the city in Lando’s favorite car. The more familiar your surroundings get, the more you realize where he’s taking you, and your suspicions are concerned when he pulls up to the valet. 

The restaurant where you’d had your first date. 

Lando always tells you how he’d known he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with you on that first date, even before your entrees came. You always tell him you’d known it then too. 

“Did I do good?” He asks hopefully, holding out his elbow for you to loop your arm through as soon as he’s helped you out of the car.

“You did perfect, Lan. I might cry, actually.” 

“No, don’t do that! You’ll mess up your mascara and then you’ll look like a raccoon for the rest of the night.” 

You scoff lightly, successfully blinking back tears. “Wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

“We would not. Though I’d still think you were the cutest raccoon out of all the raccoons.” 

“You’re so dumb. I love you.” 

“Love you, babe. Always.” 

A nice dinner at a restaurant dear to your heart with the love of your life. It’s all you could’ve asked for, and Lando has gone beyond that to show you how much he loves you. 

On a Valentine’s Day full of wonderful surprises, this is the best one of all.

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[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

P*RNSTAR- J. TODD, D. GRAYSON, P. PARKER

pairing: boyfriend! p*rnstar!jason todd x p*rnstar!dick grayson x p*rnstar!peter parker x girly!fem! reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: after months of dating jason, you finally muster the courage to ask if you can be in one of his videos... with some company. aka his two best friends dick and peter-to get all the right angles, of course.

warnings: SMUT! threesum!, daddy kink, size / manhandling kink, swearing, pet names, innocence kink, porn mentioned ofc, heavy praise, overstimulation, light spanking, giving and recieving head, fingering, cumming inside, masterbation, jason is super possesive- the boys tease the hell outta him... (this is super dirty heh)

quick authors note- thank you to the lovely person who left a threesum request in my inbox, i had this idea for a while to do something with this song in mind- so happy i could write this :) happy reading and happy valentines day<3

"i wanna hear you talking dirty/ i wanna see it on your face/ i wanna feel you put the work in/ i wanna watch you entertain / flashing red light (baby, baby, baby)/ baby, you're a star/ fuck me all night/ (show me, show me, show me)/ show me who you are/ pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (pornstar)"- p*rnstar, nessa barrett

Some things you knew, but you didn't.

Like when it came to your boyfriend's income.

He had more money than you could ever dream of. And yet- it was still a blurry line of where exactly he got it all.

Jason had pulled you aside before things got serious between you two- indicating what he did for a living. It wasn't a dinner table conversation at the busiest restaurant in Gotham, but he wasn't ashamed of himself.

He was worried about what you would think.

If you’d splash your glass of wine in his face, and be done with it.

But you were calm and understanding when he told you about his OnlyFans. About how dozens of his Twitter videos had gotten millions of views, with him as the main attraction.

He didnt work in the professional industry, he had assured you- there was no film crew, bright lights and casting calls. It was just him and his phone, sometimes a mask or two.

He was nearly appalled when you just smiled, squeezing his hand.

“That doesn't bother me Jason, I promise. Nothing you could say or do could be a deal breaker for me.”

You didn't really understand it all, how it all worked- but you were supportive nonetheless.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when a few minutes later you asked him if he filmed with anyone else. Not that you were jealous or anything if there was- it was work and all, you had quickly added.

“No one else sweetheart. Just me.”

And that had been enough of an explanation for you.

You didn't love him for his money, obviously- but it was definitely a nice bonus. He always lavished you in diamonds and lace- leaving fancy little lingerie pieces on the bed he’d hand pick for you to wear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna have to get you in a video soon sweetheart. Look how pretty you are for me, yeah?” he cooed in your ear as he fisted your hair in his hand, forcing you to look over into the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.

It drove you crazy.

You matched his freak in other ways, you were eager to learn new things and he loved to take care of you- practically using you as a doll for him to fuck however he wanted.

One night he had caught you watching one of his videos you had found on Twitter, your little pants and moans leading him right to the bedroom when he got home late from drinks with his friends.

“Whatdya think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, making you gasp and quickly pull your hand out from your sleep shorts.

“I’m s-sorry I was just seeing- Just wanted to know what you liked..” you trailed off, squirming as he took heavy strides over to the bed, lifting your head to slide his large knee under it, supporting your weight.

“Well don't stop on my account princess. Show daddy how you touch yourself, yeah? All nice n wet f’me?”

You couldn't get that night out of your mind.

It had been a week since he had caught you in the act, and instead of embarrassed you felt… hornier.

Somehow.

It didn't make sense, you were rather shy and quiet when it came to sex- unless Jason guided you to let go (which you loved). Sex wasn't foreign to you by any means- I mean, your boyfriend was a pornstar for god's sake.

But this?

This weird sense of courage, or pride to show yourself off with him? It was foreign.

You had sat on the idea for a little, and the more you thought about filming with him, the more wet your panties seemed to get at the idea.

It got to the point where you were so caught up in it, Jason had to sit you down on his lap- something he often did when you were either sad, anxious, clingy or in subspace- in the middle of the day.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been distracted all week. What's on your mind pretty?”

“S’nothing Jay.” you mumbled into his shirt, body going taunt as his hand came down to stroke your head.

“Princess you know better than to hide from me, yeah? Use your big girl words and tell  me what's going on inside that beautiful mind.”

You clung to his shirt, scrunching the fabric with a closed fist as you cleared your throat.

“I just- I was thinking a lot, lately. About, your work.” He stilled.

“And I think, if you’re okay with it, I’d maybe like to be in a video. If you’d let me, if you’re comfortable- I mean.”

Jason was frozen. All you could hear was his gentle breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as you lifted your head, peering up at him.

“Jay?”

“Are you sure angel? You really wanna do that?”

You nodded.

“I think it would be fun. And sexy. Ya know, like you showing me off…” you trailed off, and he smirked.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Maybe a little.”

He cooed at your confession, slowly starting to bounce his knee, just the way he knew drove you crazy. He swore he could hear you purring, like it was a cat who was curled on his thick thighs, and not the sweetest, most precious and innocent little angel he had ever laid eyes on.

Who had just confessed she wanted to film content with him.

Who knew what other tricks she had up her sleeve?

He was eager to find out. And even more eager to show you off, and remind everyone that you were his girl.

-----------------------------------------------

You had two other tricks up your sleeve.

And those two tricks consisted of Dick Grayson and Peter Parker. His friends, who just so happened to also film content.

Peter seemed to be just as surprised as you were, for going through with this- but more so at Jason.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to share your princess Jason. So possessive all the time, isn't he Dick?” was the first thing he said as he entered, tossing you a flirty little wink.

Jason responded with a growl, entirely proving his point as he started to shield you from the two men who flung themselves down on the couch, peering over at you with nothing but a look of hunger at your innocent little outfit- you had your thigh highs on with your short little pink skirt you knew drove Jason wild.

It seemed to drive more then just him wild, though.

“Jay..” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his bicep,poking out from behind his towering body.

“I’m doing this for my girl. So make her happy, or so be it..” he grumbled at the guys, making Dick smirk cockily.

“Oh we’ll make her happy alright.”

“She’s so meek, like a little kitten. It's adorable, really.” Peter cooed, leaning over to look at you.

“I don't think we’ve met before angel. But Jason talks our ears off about you.”

“Good things I hope.” you giggled, your eyes meeting with Jasons. There was a darkness in them that you only saw when he was feeling feisty, when you acted out.

Good.

“Only the best things.” Dick chimed in, adjusting himself so he manspread on the couch, and you fought the urge not to stare at the prominent bulge that strained his gray sweats.

You felt a hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the skin as Jason tugged you closer to him.

“You’re gonna have to stop being so possessive someday Jason. This might be good for you. Like exposure therapy, or whatever.” Peter tsked, eyeing where his hand lay.

“Two rules.” you said, getting everyone's attention, three sets of eyes on you, all perked with attention.

“I want Jay in the room at all times. And, um if for whatever reason if I need to stop or don’t like something, we’re gonna take a breather.”

“Hon, thats a given. One hundred percent, no question.” Dick reassured, Peter nodding beside him in agreement. “And don’t feel pressure about money or anything okay? Even if you decide to suddenly stop- there's no pressure. Money is already on the table for you baby.” Peter added, making you chirp out a little giggle.

“Oh I’m not worried about money, I get plenty of that from him.” you looked over at Jason, his eyes soft and gentle as they stared into yours, as if he was relinquishing in the moment that this was really happening.

That he’d be able to show you off, and know that people could fantasise about your little noises as much as they wanted, but could never have them for themselves.

“I’m gonna go get her prepped. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Jason stated gruffly, tugging you along like a lost puppy to the bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder, giving the men a little wave and a soft smile as you were guided to the bedroom, before the door shut, leaving you with Jason.

Heat pooled between your legs at the look he gave you, his hard, rough exterior dropping as soon as he was alone with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading as he silently coaxed you over to him with two fingers.

“You feelin okay pretty?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled into.

He was warm.

“I’m perfect.” you said, making him hum in content. “D’want me to make you feel good baby? Get you all nice n ready before they come- have some privacy?” he cooed, canines nipping at your neck as you giggled, letting him sweep you up and guide you on the bed, lying down under him.

“Jay?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against your skin, planting gentle kisses down your neck.

“You’re mine. Ya know? You’re always mine.”

He stilled, eyes darting up to meet yours, before swiftly kissing you on the mouth with so much passion it sent shivers down your spine as you moaned, arching into the kiss.

He tasted so sweet, so good. It was only when he parted you realized you needed air, letting out a little gasp.

“I know honey. You got that tattoo to prove it. I’m not worried.” he winked, patting your inner thigh gently at the little heart that poked out from under your skirt.

“And you know-” he leaned in close, breath hot and heavy as it ticked your ear. “No one can make you feel as good as I can. They may think they know you, what you like- but I know you sweetheart. You’re mine.”

You moaned, and he cooed at you in content as you wiggled your hips, desperate for friction.

“Can you lift those pretty lil legs for me honey? Drape them over my shoulders, like we always do?” you nodded, complying immediately as you bent them up, so your thigh high socks brushed his skin.

“Gooooood girl. You’re always so good, aren't you?”

His fingers darted down to feel the wet spot through your panties, the pads of his fingers moving in gentle circles as you groaned.

“J-jay-”

He quickly tugged off your little cotton panties in one fluid motion, exposing your bare cunt to him. He bent you forward even more, so your legs were near touching the bed behind you as he examined you.

“Such a pretty lil cunt. So tight too.” he chuckled, rubbing a finger through your soaked folds, tapping your clit and making you jump before he slid a finger in, making you moan loudly.

“Yeah, that's the spot isn't it? Hey, hey look at me-” he guided, other hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together, making your eyes stare into his.

“It's just us, okay princess? Just you n me. Keep looking at me, I know, I know it feels so good doesnt it?”

“Yess, yes fuck Jay-”

“Thats not my name, sweetheart.” he tsked, curling his finger as he slowly started to pump in and out of you, making you mewl.

“Daddy fuck.” you moaned, head loling to the side as you let bliss take over you- his sign to add a second finger.

“You’re doing so well for me princess. Thats it.” he coaxed, smirking at the blissed out face you made as he went deeper.

The door creaked open, Jasons head whipping back to glare at the guys. “I thought I said I’d call you when shes ready?” he drawled, movements not faulting despite his divided attention.

“She sure as fuck sounds ready to me. Not my fault her pretty lil moans were like a sirens call. Fuck me.” Dick whistled, leaning against the door as he watched you with wide eyes, your head rolling to see him and Peter enter the room, looking at you in awe.

“Shes a natural.”

“She is natural. We don't fake around here, do we princess?” Jason asked, and you quickly shook your head before another broken moan escaped your lips as he curled his fingers again, just the way you liked.

“She likes praise. Rough play, depending on how rough. Some degradation, but I only use it if shes being bad. She may look it, but shes not breakable. Fuck her right.” Jason instructed them, acting like you werent right in front of them, overhearing all of this.

It kinda turned you on more honestly, the way they just kind of let you go.

“Shes so pretty.” Peter cooed, coming over to the bed side, placing a hand on your cheek- just as Jason had done a few moments prior. You nuzzled into his touch, breathing in the gentle smell of his cologne.

You could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel uncomfortable, like you were scared it would.

No, it felt… nice. Rewarding.

“I’m gona turn this on now, okay angel?”

You nodded, and the little right light flickered on. “F-fancy.” you hiccuped, making them all laugh.

“Very. Only the best for you.”

You sighed softly as Peters hand trailed down, down to your breasts, squeezing one gently.

“Be gentle with her.” Jason murmured again as he stood, letting the two other guys get a feel for you. It was only fair, you supposed.

“Hi pretty. Is it okay if I flip this up?” Dick asked, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want it off?” you asked meekly, and he shook his head. “And not show the camera how cute you are in it? In this little getup?”

He pinched your thighs. “S’not a getup its just my clothes- ohhh!” you squealed as Dick was spreading your legs apart, tounge lapping at your cunt like a man starved.

Beofre you could get out another moan, Peters two fingers slid between your parted lips, and your eyes widened in surprise before you obidenly sucked on them.

“You get her like this all the time, dressed like this? Jesus Jason we might have to come drink here.” Peter groaned, Jason only letting out a grunt in reply as he palmed himself through his pants.

“You take it so well sweetheart. Making your little boyfriend over there all hot and bothered.”

You moaned, squirming before Dick squeezed your thighs tighter, forcing you to stay in place. You almost cried at the sensation, his tongue circling your clit, tugging on the little nub.

“Think she's ready?” Peter asked. “You kidding? She’s been ready this whole time. I just wanted to get a taste. So sweet.” Dick hummed, poking his head up from between your thighs, chin glistening in the soft light.

“I get her first. Shes my girlfriend.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine yes, yes. So bossy, isnt he? Thats no fun.” Dick hummed as Peter slipped his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop!, a trail of salvia stringing to his digits.

“Ngh-” was all you could get out as Dick flipped you over with no effort, gentle hands rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“S’okay bunny. We’re gonna let you cum as many times as you want. You can make a mess, okay?”

You nodded feverishly. “Am I doing good?”

“So good princess. So good. Can you open your mouth for Peter?” You lolled your tongue out, looking up at the man with glazed over puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck…” he murmered as he tugged down his pants, bundling your hair up in his hand. You felt Jason come over to place a gentle tap on your ass, his indication he was about to enter you.

You clenched in anticipation, barely able to get out a word before they both entered you- from opposite ends.

It was bliss.

Your moan vibrated straight down Peter's dock and he hissed as the sensation, slowly starting to work your mouth in rhythm with Jasons gentle thrusts. He wasn't as rough as he usually was, and you knew it was because of the sudden changes in the bedroom.

He didn't want you to get overwhelmed, and you were thankful for it. All the attention had you buzzing, the praise spewing from their mouths sending like prayers at mass.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking tight. Always so tight.” Jason growled, tossing his head back in bliss as he spread your ass, plunging into you deeper. You mewled, eyes staring up into Peters, full of lust.

He looked so beautiful, peering down at you from this angle. So tall and handsome, his happy trail brushed against your nose as you took him deep, gagging slightly at his size.

The sound just spurred him on even more, as he fucked your mouth harder, before you gasped for air, tears starting to stream from your waterline.

“S’much, so big-” you sputtered out, gasping for air, mascara smudging down your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl, did so good.” Dicks hands caressed you, hiking up your shirt, for the skin on skin contact.

He let out a little gasp, fingers tracing the ink that dotted your lower back. “My god…” he murmured at your tramp stamp that said princess, with little swirls and stars.

Jason had got it for you, holding your hand the whole time, and planting kisses on your head as you braved through the pain. You had wanted one for months, but could never find the courage to get one, or the money to be spending freely on things like that.

Until- you met Jason, of course.

“I know. Ain't she a treat? Helped her pick it out myself.” Jason smirked, giving your ass a smack.

“Daddy..” you whimpered, head falling down into the sheets without Peter's support.

“My turn. You’re on exposure therapy, remember?” Dick said, about to shoo Jason off before you cried out.

“W-wait I’m about to cum just- please, please-” you begged, more tears starting to stream down from your eyes from the overstimulation your body was feeling.

Legs began to shake as Jason grumbled something incoherent, fucking you harder and deeper, so hard you started to jolt forward down into the sheets.

You reached your hand out and you felt Peters hand cup over yours, his thumb softly stroking your skin in little circles. “You’re doing so good honey. You feelin good? Gonna cum for your daddies?"

You whimpered, nodding as you squeezed his hand as you cried out loudly, cumming on Jason's dick with no warning.

“Fuck. Fuck good girl princess I’m gonna fuck- fucking stay there and let me fill you up.” he groaned, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before you felt the warm, sticky liquid fill up your insides.

Dicks eyes widened in shock, completely forgetting about the camera that was currently focused on the four of you, whipping his head to Jason.

“Wait can you d-”

“M’on the pill.” you heaved out, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck. Fuckin hell, move.” Dick groaned, quickly taking Jasons place, wasting no time to plunge deep into you, shoving Jasons leaking cum back inside as he fucked you slowly.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as Peter started to slip his fingers back in your mouth, relieving your oral fixation.

You cried out, muffed between his digits as Dick picked up the pace, just as Jason did. Hitting spots you could only dream of.

“I know baby I know that was a stretch wasn’t it? But I promise it’ll feel so good, you’re doing so good for me- aren’t you? My sweet thing.” he cooed, making your eyes roll.

“J-jay is s’much. So, so much.”

“I know princess, you wanna stop? Just say your word.”

You shook your head. “N-gh- no I wanna keep going just- just need you here.” you reached for his hand squeezing it as well.

It was so big and rough, swallowing your palm whole. You looked over into his soft gaze, a little smile on his face that he saved only for you.

“I’m here princess. Daddys right here for his lil girl.”

[filipowitch]

KNOCK KNOCK

brothersbsf!chris walks in on younger!reader getting changed.

-> based on the bot by @cupiidk1lls (bot link)

not much warnings tbh, just the use of y/n, some swear words and like teasing ig. lmk if i missed anything! MDNI.

READ TEXT SCREENSHOTS FIRST!

7:17PM

7:21PM

Chris didn't waste any time driving up to your house. He made a quick stop at the gas station, picking up yours and his favourite snacks and drinks. He was going to prove to you being single wasn't all that bad.

He paid for the snacks, heading back to his car and continuing the drive to your place. It didn't take that long, considering you both lived pretty close to each other.

7:28PM

He parked up in the driveway, helping himself into the house and locking the door behind him. He took off his shoes, heading up to your room with the bag of snacks in his hand. He figured he'd just enter your room, not thinking much of it. "y/n!! I got the snacks. This movie night is gonna be so fir- Oh."

Yeah, he should've knocked.. but usually, he never has to. You've known each other for years anyway.. privacy wasn't much of a boundary for you two. And to be fair, he wasn't expecting you to be getting changed.

"Chris! Get OUT." You yell, throwing a pillow at his face as he just stands in the doorway, seemingly frozen in place as you stand there, half naked. God, this was embarrassing for the both of you.

"My bad." He mumbles, closing the door as he tries to adjust his sweatpants. Oh, fuck. He needs to get his mind off of this as soon as possible.

He heads down to the kitchen, placing the snacks on the counter as the moment replays in his head over and over again. He knew he felt somewhat drawn to her, but he's never felt this.. flustered before. Well, he's always wished to have seen that sight and now he ha-

God, what was he doing? Get it together, Chris. This is your best friends sister you're thinking about, not some chick.

7:32PM

You finish up getting dressed, still feeling embarrassed as your brain processes what just happened. Your thoughts don't really help, however.

Did that really just happen? I should've locked the door. God, this is all my fault. This is so embarassing! I cant go down there now. He's gonna be all awkward. No, it'll be more awkward if I don't go. He'll think I'm avoiding him or something. Ugh, whatever I'll just go. Who cares, right? I'll just act like nothing happened and if he asks I'll brush it off. It's fine. Mistakes happen.

And so that's exactly what you do. You head downstairs, looking for Chris. Let's just get this night over and done with.

"Hello? Chris! Where are you?" You call out, walking down the hallway.

"In here!" You hear him call out from the living room. You enter the room, and your eyes don't miss the way his gaze shifts up and down your body.

He pats the seat next to him, signalling you to come over. You oblige, walking over and settling down next to him whilst he brings the table of snacks closer to the couch, turning on the television and putting on 'The Notebook', just like he said.

At first, he acted like nothing happened. Well. That was until the intro of the movie began.

"So about before-"

"It never happened." You reply, shutting down his question before he can even say it.

"Yes, ma'am." He mumbles, slouching in his seat, not daring to say another word. An unspoken tension lay between the two of you after that, but none of you dared to speak about it.

This was definitely gonna be a long night.

a/n: hope you enjoyed this! i lowk don't like it, but i've seen like a few people post something similar to this so like yeah.. happy valentines day :))

TAGS: @riggysworld @hjvi @bluetalia @sturnstarsblog @headzgonewest @sturniqloo

dividers from @adornedwithlight !!

© filipowitch

[cheollipop]

This is my first time ever messaging a writer so spare me if I'm doing it wrong but

Are hard hours still open? Because 14 + 19 with Sannie 🥹🥹

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.2k

tags: smut, mafia au, stand-alone obsession sequel

rating: mature

⁂ A/N: you're all good anonnie!! I used your prompts to write more of an au I've previously written so I got a bit carried away with lore haha. happy reading!! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)  

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

The bar's door locked, blinds shut and concealing you from the bustling nightlife on the outside, you immersed yourself in the warmth San generously enveloped you with. He adjusted your position over the wooden bar, moving closer to your form until the bare skin between his open button-up pressed against your ash-covered cami. 

His nose pressed into your hair, inhaling the scent of liquor and tobacco and holding for a second before breathing it out. 

“Thought you had work,” you mumbled, craning your neck to make space for San to bury his face. 

“It can wait,” he pulled his face back then closer to your contorting features to peck over the sweat coating your forehead.

“I've never known Choi San to delay work,” a moan dragged the last syllable out, your hips rolling down to meet San's.

“Ah, did you not want me here?”

You watched his bottom lip pop out — a pout you didn't hesitate to press your mouth against. As though the gentle touch ignited a wildfire within San, he leaned into the kiss, teeth clashing and tongues sashaying together until a line of spit ran down your chins. 

Wrapping your legs tighter around his hips, you scoffed as you pulled away, biting your lip as he chased the retreating touch. What a silly question, you thought, as you clenched around his length, sitting hard and heavy between your walls. 

“Was waiting for you all day, Mr. Choi.” 

You looked up at him through your lashes, blinking slowly and observing the way his gaze shifted between your tinted lips to your eyes, then down to where you took his length as though you wanted to swallow him whole.

“Haa, you—” San's gaze held pride, hunger, feline eyes predatory and lips curling into a smirk. His palm cupped your jaw, calloused thumb tracing your bottom lip and rubbing into the red lipstick coating it. “—are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”

A wave of scorching heat rushed to your core, your cunt spitting slick around San's cock, a breathy moan escaping you and your head falling backwards as he tried burying himself even deeper within you. 

“A few words and you're like this?” He teased.

Limply hanging your head to the side, you peered at him with lidded eyes and a lopsided smile, “Mr Choi,” you purred, and a shudder shook his broad shoulders.

His hand closed around your nape, his grip tight enough to hold your head up. “‘Thought I told you not to call me that.” 

“Doesn't everyone?” 

“You're not everyone.”

Ah. There it was again — hope. A warm glimmer striving to convince you that Choi San saw you as more than a plaything he reached for after a long day at work. Rather, an escape from the world he lived in. Comfort, peace, warmth in the midst of the bloodshed and uncertainty surrounding him. 

And yet you didn't dare ask, content with drowning in whatever your relationship was. Content with watching his stoic expression melting away and his cheeks dimple in your presence. You were content with shutting the rest of the world out and having him in this way, the dizzying scent of bergamot and baby powder enough to shut the questions rotating in your mind out. 

A gentle palm cupped your cheek, curious eyes finding yours, “where'd you go?” 

You shook your head, “‘m right here.”

Placing your hands on San’s shoulders, you dragged his button-up down his arms until it gathered on the oak floorboards behind him.

San's lashes fluttered while you felt him up, running your hands over his torso, brushing over his nipples and pressing into the muscle until his knuckle brushed over your cheekbone, dragging your attention back to his face.

“What's this expression?” He observed you with a tender smile, and your heart panged against your ribcage.

Inhaling slowly, you breathed out his name and enunciated the syllable as it rolled off your tongue, “San.”

You noted his dark pupils dilating at the sound, a familiar throb between your legs dragging an involuntary moan off your tongue.

Wrapping your arms around San's shoulders, you leaned into him until your lips grazed the shell of his ear, “San, please, ‘wanna cum.”

Despite knowing it was just a distraction tactic on your end, San indulged you and tucked the unreadable expression contorting your features into the back of his mind. He snaked an arm under your shirt and around your waist, the other hooking under your thigh to spread you apart for him. 

You peered up at him when he paused his actions, eyes widening as he leaned in to plant a tender kiss to your lips before you could contain your reaction.

“San,” you whispered without purpose, simply to feel worthy of having his name so casually rolling off your tongue.

San leaned in closer once again, lips grazing yours, and, finally, his hips moved with him—a hard, deep thrust where you needed him most. A groan echoed in the back of his throat, and you felt it vibrate in the air separating you,

“Say it more,” he kissed your lips. “You can do better for me, my love.” 

And that was all the encouragement you needed, reciting San's name like a prayer until his composure cracked — palm closing around your nape as he desperately rolled his hips against yours, fucking into you like a madman deprived of his addiction.  

“You wanna come, yeah?” He breathed out a laugh at the frantic nodding before he could utter the full sentence, “come for me baby.”

A harmony of deep grunts and your airy moans reverberated in the empty bar, San's hips slapping the backs of your thighs as he fucked into your sopping cunt, the hand at your nape holding your face up to his. San studied your features, paying no mind to the unfiltered bliss gracing his own: eyes lidded with lust, lips parted to allow his voice—rough and deep—to portray just how fucking well you're taking his cock. 

He snapped his hips once, twice, then held you flush against his body while he pumped you full of his cum, burying his face into your neck as you came around his cock, spasming against him while milking him dry. the warmth of his load inside you drove you halfway to madness, your thighs shaking where he held them apart and his name now the only sound you knew to make. 

In the empty bar illuminated with nothing but a cheap candle, the surface beneath you drenched with a blend of your slick and San’s cum oozing off the edges of the wooden bench, you looked at the man before you and — for the first time — you felt fear. Not of him, but of the warm affect he forces into your being whenever he's this near. Because despite the blood on his hands, the calloused fingers accustomed to the cold metal of a pistol now caressed your skin as though you were not a scum bartender fucking her boss, but a treasure he'd spent his whole life sailing the oceans to find. 

Wax dripped onto the polished wood as you both sat there in the shivering candlelight, your head resting over San's shoulder while he held you against him, his hand smoothing over your hair. 

Your heartbeat was steady, your thoughts clear. In this shoddy bar, you learned to love Choi San.

[midnight-mourning]

Valentine's Night

Hi @baby-bloos!! I was your secret valentine for dca pickup! Wrote a little something cozy and fluffy for you, hope you enjoy ^^

Word Count: 1226

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You turn your car off, waiting a moment before resting your head against the steering wheel with a sigh. Today was… tough. 

Despite working at your current job for over half a year now, you were still adjusting. It wasn't childcare—food service, what you could find—and you felt entirely out of your element. But, it paid the bills, and the bills certainly needed paid. 

It was just a shame the hours were so long, you hated leaving your bots alone like that for so long. They arguably had a lot more adjusting to do than you, while you'd lost your job, they'd lost pretty much everything. Their home, their friends, and their job too. All of it in one fell swoop. 

It was why when they asked how things were going and the likes you kept up a smile and just simply said they were fine. They deserved rest, a life free of worries after everything. It was your job to give that to them.

After another few moments resting, you sit up, heading inside finally.

Another downside to this job, you didn't get holidays off. In particular, Valentine's was one of the most egregious of examples. 

You'd been hoping to spend all day with the two, showing them how much you cared, how much they meant to you. But instead, you spent the day serving customers, couples and otherwise alike. You were just getting home, the daylight already long since faded.

Now, after such a long day, you were exhausted, and you felt awful, because you had no energy left to give them. You argued that they wouldn't mind, they knew you loved them, but it still ate away at you inside. So, your plan was to make it up to them tenfold tomorrow. 

You crack your back as you walk up your front step, opening your front door a moment later. A nice warm shower and then cuddling in bed sounded heavenly right now—

A mouth-watering smell hits you then, the door shutting behind you with a quiet thud. 

Blinking, you take in the atmosphere of your house and how different it is compared to how you left it at the crack of dawn this morning. 

The entire house is covered in Valentine's decorations, on the walls and hanging up above. Warm string lights are hung up, as opposed to the harsh usual lighting. There's music softly playing from somewhere—the living room maybe—and of course, the smell of food cooking that has your stomach growling. 

You're still standing there dumbfounded, when Sun suddenly appears to your right, coming from the kitchen. 

"Ah! There you are sunshine, how was your day?" 

He's not wearing his usual attire. Instead, a pink apron with red cursive script covers his front, and underneath you spy—is that a suit? How in the world did they manage to find one their size and buy it? You shake your head, in his arms is a mixing bowl, and he gestures to you with the wooden spoon he holds. 

"Oh, poor thing, you look exhausted. Not to worry! Your bath should be ready for you by now. Go wash up, dinner will be ready when you are." With that, he goes back to mixing, disappearing into the kitchen again. 

You take in what he says for a moment, not entirely comprehending. Only for him to pop back out the doorway with a chuckle. "Oh, and happy Valentine's, love."

In slight disbelief, you head upstairs, sure enough finding that a warm bath is waiting for you. There's a sweet, rosy scent to the steamy air, and sure enough, there's petals floating in the water. 

There's a towel already laid out, along with cozy pajamas you don't remember buying.

You nearly weep in anticipation, and quickly undress to enjoy the water before it grows cold. You savor your time in the bath, stress melting away instantly. You'd stay there for hours, but it seems they've got a lot planned tonight, and you're starving. 

So, you finish up and head downstairs. The kitchen is empty, spotless, no sign of anything having occurred in the space. A testament to how much they've improved since the first time they tried cooking. 

You find them in the living room, specifically Moon. He's still wearing that silly apron, which you now realize has 'Kiss the Cook' written on it. He looks up as you enter the room. 

"Ah, Star. I apologize, I'm still setting things up." He adjusts the candles on the coffee table, folding his hands in front of him once he's done. 

You take note of the spread, all your favorites, and a glass of wine waiting for you. 

Just as you're about to comment on it, Moon raises a hand, taking off his apron and folding it up. He then turns, looking for something behind the couch edge. When he spins around again, there's a box of chocolates and a bouquet in his hands. 

"Happy Valentine's, Starlight." He chuckles at your surprised expression. 

Your hand comes up to your mouth, touched. "Moon, you guys, this is... so lovely. How did you find the time for this? Weren't you babysitting all day?"

"We have our ways." He nods his head to the side. "Nila helped as well."

You glance over and find your grey and white kitty is sitting on her cat tree, a heart-themed bowtie around her neck. 

"Awwww." You hurry over and pet her, cooing and fawning over her accessory. Turning to Moon after a moment. "I have to say, I feel a bit underdressed in comparison."

Moon tsks. "Nonsense. This is all for you, we figured you'd enjoy comfort over anything else."

"Well, you'd be right." You take a few steps closer to close the gap between the two of you, hands reaching to wrap around him into a hug, looking up at him with a grin. "And I appreciate it very, very much."

He hums, leaning down to meet you. "Really now?"

"Mhm."

You press a kiss to his smile, only pulling away when he does. 

"Your dinner is going to get cold." He warns. 

You sigh. "I guess that's not far off. Alright, we'll get back to that later then I suppose."

"We will."

Dinner is amazing, as expected. You exchanged conversation and laughter between bites, both Sun and Moon. Afterwards, you snuggle up onto the couch together, your wine in one hand and chocolates in your lap. 

A sappy movie plays on the tv as you snuggle up against your favorite bot, no, favorite persons in the whole world. Nila is resting beside you, purring quietly and you don't know how it could get better than this. 

"Sunshine."

You hum, looking up to the yellow bot currently holding you. "Yeah, Sun?"

"I was wondering, well, we were wondering, if we could continue where we left off. If that's alright?" As he speaks, his fingers dance up your arm, up to cup your chin and tilt it up towards him. 

It takes you a moment, but then it clicks. A smirk spreads across your lips. "You don't say? You won't hear me complaining, that's for sure."

His rays spin once, then closes the gap between you in a sweet, delicate kiss.

You have to say, for a not so great Valentine's Day, it's the perfect Valentine's Night.

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

I hope you enjoyed Bloos! I was excited to get to be your secret giftee again hehe, had much fun making a little cozy thingy with a bit of r&r <333

Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[luckypunklemonade]

| (Yeah Yeah Yeah)

[NSFW MDNI 18+; established relationship; oral (m receiving); 1k words] Boyfriend! Stiles Stilinski realizes how helpful you can be, and not just in research.

This work belongs to me, luckypunklemonade (Minte_Condition on AO3). I do not give anyone permission to distribute or share my work without consent.

Stiles is the type of guy to harp on his potential. He always had big plans and dreams, especially when you started dating. He was going to be the best boyfriend with all the time in the world for you. You were a little more realistic—understanding, really. It was cute how he maintained that goal so far into the relationship, so far into his life getting more and more chaotic. Yes, he knew that it wasn’t always gonna be perfect and that he’d have to prioritize other things every once in a while, but it was so easy to let that go when you let him at you so easily. Every time he felt your muscles un-tense like you were melting into him while he kissed wherever he could croon his head, he slid right back into being overzealous. In his mind, there was still so much to accomplish and he wanted to do it right then, immediately. He wasn’t in a rush, per se, just a little over-enthusiastic. You had to slow him down sometimes. His kisses got to be so rushed it was almost negligent and his hands hovered in the air aimlessly because he couldn’t decide where to put them. Of course, on your body was the top choice, but where?

You really screwed up in showing him that he didn’t have to rush, that he could have you whenever he needed you. You were dating. There wasn’t a time limit or cap on how much affection he could show his girlfriend. He got stressed out and thought that, surely, he’d never be able to compromise time for research and time for you. You said, awfully directly, that he could do both.

“Y’know, sex is a stress reliever.”

Stiles actually hadn’t thought about that. It had the potential to be very advantageous. He was calling you all the time. Late, early, whatever. Asking if you were busy and if you could come over and help him clear his head. You eventually put a limit on him. It can’t be every day, you said. Only a few times a week, but it always seemed to work. Thinking of you alone for a bit, seeing only you, losing focus of everything, and letting loose for a little. Stiles would call you, asking if you could stop by, trying and failing to act like it wouldn’t disappoint him a little if you couldn’t. Once you had shown up at his door, he pulled you up to his room with a clingy grip around your waist. He wasn’t eager to get it over, but he rushed himself into tugging your shirt off. He just got so worked up when you touched him, and he didn’t have to beg because he one thousand percent would. You gently scratched his scalp, and you talked him up to it and back down again. You knew how to help him relax. You made sure it was on a healthy basis, sure, but he looked so happy when he saw you wore a pretty bra for him.

After settling you into his arms for a little rest, maybe a nap, Stiles seemed to be on a much different level of ready. Inspired, organized. Sort of mirroring your sense of preparedness that you felt comfortable with. You had joked that you were rubbing off on him, literally. He was happier, sleeping better, remembering to eat. Hell, you saw him drinking water. Actual water, not just the leftover ice that had melted in a drink, a cup of water designated for drinking. Of course, this behavior came with more rewards. Not just sex. You weren’t animals, even if it felt like it. He’s hormonal and can’t believe he has access to you in the ways you let him.

Sometimes, he’s surpassed his limit for the week. Staring up at you, braving his murder board with your notes in hand and your hair up out of the way. You’ve got his shirt on, and underneath, where he can barely see them, you’re wearing his stormtrooper boxers. The nerdy ones that you slowly pulled off for him, lowering yourself to your knees. He thought he’d pass out, so he sat on the edge of his bed while you got a little more comfortable. You said something about not being able to afford condoms between the two of you and these little study aids, so you needed to experiment with other ways to help him focus. He was embarrassed at first when you revealed the pattern of his boxers. You laughed, and he turned his head away. But you weren’t making fun of him. You actually thought it was cute. He found the rhythm again when you said nerds were hot and slid your hand underneath the trademarked waistband.

Truly, it was embarrassing for you, too. You loved how smart he was, how sweet and funny he was, but there was something alongside all those innocently attractive qualities that made you want him to fuck you stupid. He’s lean and a little scrawny, but preseason lacrosse conditioning and the years of lacrosse behind that built muscle. His eyes, his surprised smile when he found out how far you’d let him go, but his happy trail was something that had always driven you crazy. That was sort of your inspiration that night. Seeing him stretch, the trail peeking out from under his shirt, cut off by his sweatpants. Physically, it was one of your top five favorite things about him. You remember when you first told him that, asking if you could do something about that. He literally whimpered when you pressed your tongue below his navel, kissing while he tried to get some unnecessary words out. Stuttering over every other syllable, he eventually gave up to admire the view of you damn near staring at his v-line, hyper-fixated. He brushed his fingers through your hair. Another thing you loved: his hands. In your hair, holding his hand, tracing his palm, playing with his fingers, putting them in your mouth, when he makes his own use of them for you, of course. Stiles brushed your hair through his fingers away from your forehead so that he could see your eyes, focused on your own hands all over him. He felt a little awkward, but with you so fixated, what was the point?

True, he hadn’t really called you for this, at least not this time. You had come over to help, just to help with research. And this wasn’t for focus or relaxation. You wanted to try something new, something he couldn’t get himself over his head in. You told him to just sit down and look pretty. He listened. He sort of didn’t know what to do with his hands. They ended up midair, hovering over your head, frozen and awkward, until you flattened your tongue on the underside of his cock, and they dropped limply to his sides. As quickly as they fell, they regained their energy and gripped his blankets. You made a sound around that had him mixing up moans with breaths and stuttering your name all at once.

The next day, you both had finally actually gotten to work. Stiles’s clothes seemed to find their way into your hands, onto your body. Of course, they were comfortable, but it was that little bit more that made you feel closer to him. Trying to define a symbol, Stiles tripped over himself to get you the books you needed, to get to the computer, to hand you your notebook. He ran his hands along your waist, no doubt reminiscing on how he had you twisting in pleasure. It was strange. He was attentive to you but laser-focused on the material, like when the doctors finally hit the sweet spot dosage of Adderall for his hyper mind. You got a lot done, too. Both of you seemed to reach a perfect equilibrium that had you making calls to spread the successful research. Bedtime was undetermined until Stiles looped his arm around your waist and pulled you into bed with him, pressing his lips to the back of your neck and leaving them there. You wouldn’t realize until morning that Stiles had put his hand underneath the waistband of the stormtrooper boxers of his you were wearing, palm flat against your lower stomach.

[meeraonpole]

Valentines Day Grand Prix OP81 X Y/N4

The air buzzed with the electric energy of race day, the scent of burning rubber and high-octane fuel thick in the paddock. The world was watching, and Oscar Piastri was more focused than ever—but not just on the race. Somewhere in the grandstands, you were there, wrapped up in a McLaren hoodie, cheering for him like you always did.

This year, Valentine's Day coincided with the Grand Prix, and while Oscar wasn’t one to get overly sentimental, he still wanted to do something special for you. He had left a tiny surprise in your bag that morning, and he couldn't wait to see if you had found it yet.

The hours leading up to the race were chaotic—briefings, last-minute strategizing, and media appearances. But amidst the whirlwind of activity, Oscar had taken a moment to slip a small, heart-shaped note into your bag while you were distracted talking to Lando.

The note was simple, scribbled quickly in his neat handwriting:

Happy Valentine’s Day. I know today is all about the race, but I promise, the moment it’s over, it’s about you. Dinner, just us two. Hope you don’t mind postponing the romance a few hours. Love, O.

It was stupidly sentimental, but for you, he didn’t mind being that way.

You only found the note when you reached into your bag for your sunglasses. Your heart melted instantly. Glancing toward the McLaren garage, you caught sight of Oscar adjusting his gloves, completely in race mode. Even so, as if he had some sort of sixth sense, he looked up just in time to see you beaming at him, holding up the note between two fingers.

He grinned beneath his helmet and gave you a quick thumbs-up before turning back to his car.

The race was intense, nail-biting from start to finish. Oscar had been fighting for a podium position the entire time, and by the time he crossed the finish line in P3, the crowd erupted.

Podium ceremonies always felt surreal, and this one was no different. The sight of Oscar standing tall with his trophy, a proud smile on his face, made your heart swell. But the best part was when the post-race interviews began.

"Oscar, P3 today! How does it feel?" the reporter asked.

"Feels pretty good! Tough race, but I’m happy with the result. The team did an incredible job. And, uh…" He hesitated just briefly before adding with a boyish grin, "Guess I should also say happy Valentine’s Day to my girlfriend. Hope she enjoyed the race as much as I did."

Your cheeks burned as the camera panned to you in the crowd, and the internet exploded instantly. Social media was already running wild with the moment, calling it the most unexpectedly romantic thing ever.

By the time Oscar had finished with the press and celebrations, he was exhausted—but the moment he saw you waiting for him outside the McLaren motorhome, that tiredness melted away. He walked straight up to you, arms sliding around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, uncaring of the cameras still lingering around.

"Told you I’d make time for you after the race," he murmured against your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

"You also made time for me during the podium interview, apparently," you teased, nudging him playfully.

He chuckled. "Figured I’d let the world know I have the best Valentine."

Your heart flipped at his words, and you tightened your grip on him. "So, about that dinner?"

"Already have it planned," he assured you, taking your hand in his. "Let’s get out of here. Just us, like I promised."

And with that, Oscar Piastri, fresh off a podium finish, whisked you away for a Valentine’s night you wouldn’t forget—because at the end of the day, no matter how fast his world moved, he always made time for you.

enjoyyy

[yep123]

Blue lock headcannons for reader who HATES soccer!?!?

(Authors note~ I was just following the order of the wiki! I know ya’ll wanted yoichi first!)

A/N! I would have posted earlier but I was grounded for a month!

Blue lock 11~

🐻Gin Gagamaru (my fave)🐻

I feel he wouldn’t push you to like it but he will still try to show you trophies or tell you about wins so you can tell him you’re proud of him!!! I think he also pushes the soccer ball in your face and just stares at you…like :-/

💖Jyubei Aryu💖

He’d probably just show you how ✨glam✨ soccer really is. You’re not interested in the slightest but that’s okay! He still loves you. Probably.

👀Ikki Niko👀

I don’t think he’d mind at all! As long as you’re into anime and that sort of thing! Ikki is pretty manipulative though…I think

🐆Hyoma Chigiri🐆

He’s not mad but he’s not happy either….like he tore his dang acl and still plays the game!!!! It would be nice if you still came to his games to cheer him on! Like go to the Blue lock vs. U-20 match please!?!??!! Sit with his mom and sister!

🕶️Kenyu Yukimiya🕶️

I headcannons he could be a bit upset you don’t like soccer…he very passionate about it. He wouldn’t force you to like it but he’d try his best to get you interested! Give it a chance…for him?

🌊Tabito Karasu🌊 (he’s scared of water…idk?)

He’ll be a little confused….I mean what’s not to love!? He probably would force you to like it! He loves you and all but get with the program dude!

🕹️Seishiro Nagi🕹️

He really doesn’t care. He only started playing 6 months ago, he doesn’t care. But try and play some games with him or something…I mean if you don’t even like that then why’re you together?

👹Meguru Bachira👹

Why don’t you like!? I mean who doesn’t like soccer!? Like seriously, what’s not to love!? He might cry when you tell him you don’t like soccer….like my guy is having a full on breakdown…

🥷Eita Otoya🥷

As long as you’re hot he doesn’t care what you like…he’s deeply shallow~ (wicked reference) he’s more interested in your looks and body than what you like…sorry not sorry

⚽️Rin Itoshi⚽️

Yeah he might ghost or avoid you for a while…don’t be mad at him…do you know all he’s been through?

🏟️Yoichi Isagi🏟️

He’s fine with it. He had his respective opinion…and a few words to say….but he, um, how should I put this….? Doesn’t care….he would be a normal boyfriend with a partner who doesn’t really have an interest in the sport. Sounds a little weird, but I’m sure it’s relatable somewhere.

🫏Shoei Baro🫏

He’s confused and angry….ya’ll might not talk for a while….don’t take it personally but he might break up with you….hopefully not but you never know

🤑Reo Mikage🤑

He literally tries to force you into liking it. Like….you probably have to fake being interested because he’s putting so much pressure on you. Toxic right?

👓Zantetsu Tsurugi👓

He doesn’t understand. Jk! He doesn’t really care…he would love if you came to his matches! Like anyone would! He’s pretty easy on that note….but overall….he has his interests. And you have yours

👾Yo Hiori👾

I think he’s relieved. His parents have always pressured him and I think he’s glad that his partner won’t do the same…won’t be counting on him….as long as you like gaming though!

⭐️Nijiro Nanase⭐️

He whines….why don’t you like it again? You tell him it’s not your thing…he slumps…you cheer him up with kisses and cuddles….he’s fine everything’s fine….I hope and pray for you…

💪🏻Aoshi tokimitsu💪🏻

He stares at you blankly for a bit with his huge round eyes then he breaks down in tears. Why? Because he thinks you won’t come to his matches. Will you? Well…possibly

🦁Jingo Raichi🦁

He bold faced yells at you. You punch him. The anime punch. He straitened up, gets in his knees, and apologizes. AS. HE. SHOULD.

🦈Ranze Kurona🦈

He asks you a bunch of questions like why? And if it ties to something else. If it does he listens. If it doesn’t he understands.

[tzufcallsmeshomps]

I’m rereading Mistborn for the fourth time and. I haven’t drawn a certain Final Emperor during the last few rounds

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

indifferent [s.h.] 18+

an: heyyyy me again so yeah could not stop thinking about a pathetic steve so here we are!! enjoy and feel free to send suggestions, concepts, or just chat!!

side note i listened to i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys on a loop while writing this so do with thag what you will!

masterlist here!!

summary: you and steve are coworkers and while you try (and fail) to act like he doesn’t exist, he’s a little obsessed with you and would do anything to have your attention

(fem!reader x steve harrington)

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, public teasing (nothing too crazy), jealous reader, dirty talk, f masturbation, fingering, biting, kissing, spit, handjob MDNI!!!!!

wc: 15.5k

When it came to Steve Harrington, you were indifferent. 

You didn’t fall in with the group of girls who fawned over him like some king, worshiping the ground he walked on and giggling at his attempts at jokes. But you didn’t fall in with the other group either. The ones that hated him, that called him names and rolled their eyes when he walked in the room with a smile on his face. 

So you fell somewhere in the middle. To you Steve Harrington was your coworker, someone you often had to pick up the slack for or cover for when he was running late. You wouldn’t call him a friend but wouldn’t say he was your enemy either. 

The arrangement the two of you had worked well for you. You’d cover for him or save his ass when needed, and in turn he’d leave you alone. Well sometimes he would. You didn’t mind him but sometimes it seemed like he could go on forever and you just…it drove you a little crazy, okay? He was good about leaving you be, making small talk for a little before the both of you quieted down and went about your shift. 

Part of this arrangement was you teasing him until his cheeks burned and his felt fuzzy, but that was neither here nor there. 

But sometimes you think he just couldn’t help it. He’d start going on about something and then it would be 45 minutes later and he’d still be going. You let him do this about once or twice a week. You didn’t mind him or his company, so if it made him happy to ramble on every once in a while you could live with that. He was a yapper and you were quiet. You would hum along to something you’d heard on the way to work and entertain his chit chat for a few minutes but that was really it. 

Did that mean you couldn’t appreciate that he was actually really pretty? Of course not! He had dimples that made him seem boyish and sweet, even when he was being a menace. His hair was perfect, especially after he’d spent the day running his hands through it a million and one times. His lips were pouty and pink and so what if you stared at them when he was droning on about something? A perfect nose that you’d admired the slope of more times than you could count when he was sitting beside you going through returns. 

He was pretty. You wouldn’t deny that. But that was it. No more, no less. It didn’t mean you liked him or wanted him or would fall to your knees for him like half of Hawkins did. Sure, you passed the time at work by teasing him and making him squirm, but it was only because you were bored and he was there, all pretty and willing. 

You were indifferent. 

              ****************************************

Steve liked you. 

If you were in the same room as him he couldn’t help but to watch you. He didn’t know if you saw him and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d watch the way you’d tuck your hair behind your ear once every few minutes. He’d watch you scrunch your nose when you were reading and pout your rosy lips when sorting through dvd’s. God you were just so pretty. 

He wanted your attention all the time, he craved it. He knew he looked like a little lovesick puppy the way he followed you around and hoped you’d smile at him or indulge his ramblings every now and then. 

Pathetic. That’s what he was when it came to you. Sometimes you were a little mean to him but he liked it, loved anything you’d give him. He would even show up late on purpose sometimes just to hear you scold him! 

“M’not always gonna be here to cover for you, Harrington. Be a big boy and get to work on time.”

His cheeks would be pink and he’d give you a shy smile, promising this was the last time but you both knew better than to believe that. You didn’t put up with his bullshit, you called him out when he needed it and you didn’t try and act like somebody you weren’t around him. He loved it. 

Like today, you’d barely come in the door before he was on your heels, going on about some party from the weekend before and how it was sooo lame and that he didn’t have any fun. He’s so occupied with his rambling he doesn’t realize you’ve stopped until he slams into your back, hands coming up to grip your shoulders so you don’t both fall over. 

Your hands grip the counter just in time and he expects you to turn around and gripe at him, scolding him like a toddler who’d been on your heels but you don’t. You huff a laugh and playfully shove at his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“Jesus, Harrington. Maybe I need to get you a leash, hm?” 

And maybe Steve likes that a little too much because he can feel the tips of his ears burning and blush working its way up his neck and covering his cheeks in a pink that makes him squirm. 

He watched you quirk an eyebrow at him, a knowing smirk on those lips he’s dreamed about for months and he wonders why he’s not more embarrassed, why his heart is racing and his cock is swelling in his pants. Fuck.

“On second thought, I think maybe you’d like that a little too much.” 

              *************************************

One thing you love about working with Steve is teasing him. You’ve done good to not let him get too close to you, staying neutral when it comes to his antics but you can’t help the giddiness you feel watching him blush and squirm when you’re mean to him. You’ve come to learn he likes when you embarrass him. 

You’re embarrassed to admit it makes you feel a little powerful, a little special when you make him this way. He’s not the big, bad, ‘King Steve’ he was in high school when he’s in front of you, oh no. You think he’s quite pathetic the way he’s practically attached to your hip and you relish in the way he hangs onto every word you give him, especially considering you don’t give him much. 

Like today you’re perched on a stool at the cash register, barely working oscillating fan doing little to cool you down when the ac is shitty, pushing around warm air that makes your thighs stick together and leaves a sheen of sweat on your forehead. You hate the heat, but what you don’t hate is the way Steve’s eyes are glued to your thighs, watching closely every time you readjust or a bead of sweat slides down your leg. 

“Careful, Steve, I won't be happy if you drool on my leg.” That snaps him out of it, shoulders thrown back as he whips his head up to your face and oh yep! There’s those red cheeks you’ve come to like so much. 

He opens his mouth to say something, probably nothing that would make sense but you spare him from trying to explain his wandering eyes, reaching down into your bag to pull out your next bit of entertainment for the day. 

This’ll be good.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him watching you closely and you can’t help the smirk you wear when your fingers find what you were looking for, wrapping around it and pulling it out for Steve to see. You don’t miss the way his lips part or the way he grips the counter in front of you. 

“They’re my favorite,” you wave the cherry blow pop in front of you like you’ve found gold, smirking at the way his eyes follow it through the air, “I only have the one but I can share, I guess.” 

It would be rude of you to not offer him any. You might tease and be mean, but you certainly weren’t rude!

Ripping the wrapper off you waste no time, sticking the sweet treat in your cheek, throwing away the trash and swinging your legs around so you’re face to face with Steve, knees pressed against his as your feet dangle off the stool. 

Maybe you could blame the way you make a show out of it on the lack of customers today. You’ve been here for 4 hours and only a handful of people have come in. Yeah, that’ll do. That’s why you pull it from your mouth with a pop that makes him flinch, lolling your tongue around the candy in a way that makes his eyes glaze over. You can hear him gulp when you hollow your cheeks and close your eyes, pretending like the taste of artificial cherry is what’s making your ears buzz and your heart race. 

Dragging the blow pop from your mouth you gasp, letting your tongue swipe against your bottom lip that you’re sure is shiny with spit. “Oh, where are my manners! Here ya go, Harrington, have a lick.” 

Not giving him a second to react, you surge forward, pushing the sucker against his lips before he has the chance to open, smearing the stickiness and your spit around his mouth and smiling wide at the sight of him, a tint of red around his pouty lips that suits him well. 

“Messy boy, aren’t you?” You swipe your thumb over his lips, collecting some of the mess and you can see the way his tongue peaks out and you know he’s dying to let it touch your thumb. You pull back before he can, popping your thumb in your mouth and humming around it as if it’s the blow pop itself. 

“Told you I could share!” 

You could be indifferent to him and still want to make him melt to his knees for you, right? 

             **************************************

Steve thought about the cherry blow pop incident for weeks. He was surprised he didn’t cum in his pants like a teenager when the spit soaked treat touched his lips or when he watched you suck on your thumb after it swiped across his mouth. 

That was just one example of how you tortured him, how he loved it. He’d had to go home that night and barely made it through the front door before he was pulling his cock out and picturing you on your knees in front of him, teasing him for being a “messy boy.” 

You had no idea. 

This shit would happen, these events that Steve was positive were chemically altering his brain chemistry, and he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you? You’d do something like that, something so hot it was engraved in his mind forever and then five minutes later it would be as though it never happened. You’d smirk at him, go back to what you were doing and spend the rest of the day ignoring him or giving him one word responses while he begged at your feet for a scrap of attention. 

He really was like a puppy. 

So he was confused, beyond confused on if you were friends, if you wanted him…he just didn’t know what to make of it. He hadn’t seen you act this way with anyone else and it made him feel…special. God he was pathetic. 

The problem with all this was that he wasn’t entirely sure you didn’t hate his guts. I mean yeah, you’d tease and scold him when he was being an idiot and you were mean but never cruel or malicious. But you also never really went out of your way to start a conversation, never really cared to keep one up with him either. You rarely smiled at him, which killed him, because he saw the way you’d laugh at something Robin said or the amusement dancing in your eyes when the kids came in to raise hell. You never let him have it though, and fuck he wishes you would. All he got were teasing smirks and he wasn’t complaining about them, not one bit, but he wanted to see if he could make you all sweet and mushy like everyone else did. 

There’s been a few times he’s caught you staring but you never back down, never look embarrassed to have been watching him and he wonders if you were staring so hard to put a curse on his bloodline or something! He wouldn’t mind if you were, the feel of your eyes on him somewhat satiate the craving he has for you. 

He’s thinking about you again, just like always. In fact he’s so deep in thought, leaned forward letting his chin rest in his palm that for once he doesn’t notice you come up behind him. 

He wishes he would have noticed you because then maybe he could have prepared himself to talk you and then maybe he wouldn’t have fucked everything up the way he did. Maybe it would’ve gone differently and ended without you in tears and him feeling the world's biggest douche bag. 

“Dreamin’ about me, Harrington?” 

“Aren’t I always.” He meant for it to come out teasing—but it didn’t. Now you were staring at him and he was staring out the window, the tips of his ears burning and he wished he could swallow his own tongue. 

“Anyways, any chance you’ll cover my shift this Friday?” 

“Why? Where are you going?” Full on pouting now he finally met your gaze. You never missed a shift, in fact you were the only one that anyone could count on to pick up extra shifts. 

“Who are you, my daddy?” 

His fingers twitched on the counter in front of him and neither of you missed the way his throat bobbed. Jesus Christ you made him crazy. “If you must know, I have a date and Friday is the only day that works.” 

Wait—what? You had a date? With someone who was not him. Based on the way his heart dropped to his ass, he realized he might want far more than just your attention. His throat clogged as he looked at you, waiting as patiently as possible for his answer but fuck a date? You’d never gone on one as long as he’d known you—well that he knew of. 

“But…you don’t go on dates.” 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

Oh he was fucked now. He’d opened his big mouth and pissed you off—not in the way he’d liked either. “Well I just, I just meant I’ve never seen anyone ask yo—I didn’t think anyone…or you…I’ve never seen you go on one so I just figured you didn’t.” His foot could not get any further down his throat. He was fucking this up royally, but he was flustered! The pretty girl he liked was going out with someone, god knows who, and his feelings were a little hurt, even if he didn’t have the right! 

“Forget it.” Any amusement you’d held towards him vanished, something else passed over you that he recognized as hurt and then anger. Lots of anger. 

“Wait! M’sorry, I didn’t mean it like tha—”

“No you wait, Harrington. I don’t care what you think or what you think you know, it’s none of your business. I didn’t ask for you to question whether it was possible someone could like me enough to take me out, I asked if you’d cover my shift. Which—by the way—is not a big ask considering I cover your ass at least two times a week! But forget it, asshole, I’m sure my date was a fluke anyways, right?” 

Before he could apologize or even blink you’d stormed away, slamming the break room door behind you. Shit he was an idiot! A huge, massive, blubbering idiot who’d made you more mad than he’d ever seen. His words got all jumbled around you anyways let alone when he was jealous over someone else getting to take you out. 

He’d fucked up big time and was just sure you were cursing his bloodline now. 

                 *********************************

Big, angry tears rolled down your cheeks in the employee bathroom you’d locked yourself in for the last twenty minutes. You were pissed, livid even, but more than that you were hurt. Which was only making you more mad, because why the hell did Steve Harrington have the power to hurt your feelings! He wasn’t anyone to you but a coworker, maybe an acquaintance, and yet here you were crying in the bathroom at work because he…what? Didn’t think you were pretty enough or cool enough or—whatever he fuckin’ thought—to date? 

Okay, sure he didn’t say that exactly, but how else were you supposed to take his blubbering. And yeah, for the most part you were quiet and reserved and didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have feelings for godsake. 

At the end of the day Steve was a guy, a cute guy that you’d admired for his beauty and wouldn’t deny that he was overall sweet and kind, and you were a girl, a girl who apparently was not meant for dates. 

And that hurts your feelings more than you’d care to admit. 

A knock on the door had you wiping at your cheeks furiously, though at this point nothing would be able to hide your red cheeks and swollen eyes. “Who is it?” You cringed at how your voice sounded cracked and whiny. 

“It’s Robin,” Oh thank god. Thank fucking god it wasn’t Steve. “Dingus is out here looking like he’s about to have a meltdown but won’t tell me what’s up, just said you were back here and that I should come check on you.” 

Taking a deep breath you pulled the door open just enough for Robin to slip in, quickly closing it back behind her and trying not to let your bottom lip tremble when she turned to look at you and gasped. You weren’t even a crier! What was going on! 

“Woa—shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry. Are you okay? What happened? Did they get Steve too, he seriously looks two seconds away from curling up on the floor.” Hands immediately covering your face you sigh, willing no more tears to fall until you can get out of here and into your own bed. 

“It’s not, I just—I really don’t wanna talk about it right now, okay? Do you think you could start early and cover the rest of my shift? I promise I’ll make it up to you I just…Rob I just need to go home.” 

“Of course I can, are you crazy? There’s nothing to make up. Go! I’ll tell Harrington you’re not feeling well and he’s stuck with me for the rest of the night,” giving you a reassuring squeeze as you gathered your things you’d grabbed on the way in here you gave her what you hoped came off as a thankful smile, “and when—if—you wanna talk about this, I’m here. Just so you know. I can listen sometimes despite what they all say.” 

You nodded, squeezing her hand and giving yourself one last look in the mirror, grimacing at the utter mess you saw staring back at you. Hiking your bag on your shoulder you fled the safety of the bathroom and all but ran to the door. 

Steve was with a customer, the polite smile he had on his face completely wiped off when he caught a glimpse at your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You didn’t spare him one look, practically running for the door without uttering a word in his direction. 

God he felt like a piece of shit. He doesn’t think he’d ever seen you upset, let alone crying. He’d fucked up bad and didn’t know how to fix it when he’s sure you wouldn’t give him the time of day now. 

He’d have to find a way to make this better, the pit in his stomach growing when he thought of you being upset—hurt—because of him. 

He stood there staring at the door until Robin came up beside him, a concerned look on her face as she studied him. “Did she say what happened?” 

“No, she didn’t. Just said she needed to go home and didn’t want to talk about it. I’ve never seen her so upset though, I’m worried.”

He was thankful she didn’t call him out for his bullshit. It was obvious whatever happened had been between the two of you and he didn’t think he couldn’t take Robin ripping into him right now, even if he deserved it.

“Yeah, me too.” And fuck he was. 

             *************************************

3 days since Steve had made you cry. The more you thought about it, the worse you felt because if you were being honest with yourself, maybe there was a small, teeny tiny part of you that grew fond of Steve. Steve with his goofy smile and bashful grin when he’d tell you stupid jokes. 

It was one thing to be hurt because he’d been a jerk, but now you were dealing with feelings you didn’t want. You’d been hurt because you liked Steve and hearing him say…well you guess he didn’t say much, just stumbled his way through some sentences that all started pretty shitty, your feelings were all twisted up that he viewed you a certain way. 

But instead of thinking too hard about these newfound feelings you had, you chose to ignore it completely. Obviously! You didn’t have the time or energy to worry about what Steve Harrington thought of you, especially when you glance at the clock on your nightstand and shit you’re gonna be late for work! 

This is your first shift in 3 days and your stomach turns because you know you’ll be working with Steve. It also happened to be Friday, the day of your date that you had canceled in a fit of hurt and anger when you got home from your last shift. But based on how that jackass you couldn’t even remember the name of took it, you’d dodged a bullet. 

You’re pulling into Family Video before you know it, dread washing over you and it doesn’t help that the humid summer heat as your bare thighs sticking to your seat, it only adds to your frustration. You make no move to actually get out, but you know you can’t afford to miss a shift or risk this job so you get it over with, pulling yourself out and walking in before you say fuck it and head back home. 

Walking through the front doors you see him immediately, standing behind the counter with worry etched between his brows and a small frown on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy, staring you down as if you’ve wronged him. 

“You’re late.” 

You stiffen, spine straightening at his words and a string of curses are on the tip of your tongue, ready to lash out at him because how dare he. But before you get the chance he’s speaking again, effectively cutting off the tyrade you had going on your head. 

“And that’s fine, totally fine! You’re just never late so I was worried, but then again I know today’s Friday so I wasn’t sure if you’d be showing up at all…I didn’t get the chance to tell you the other day I’d already told Robin I’d cover her shift today but I talked to the boss and if you need to go you can, I can manage one night by myself, I swear!” 

You didn’t answer him, walking past and heading to the break room to hang up your things and try and mentally prepare for what was sure to be the longest shift of your life. The only thing you had going for you was that it was a Friday night, so hopefully you’d be busy and not have time to stress over being stuck with Steve. 

When you come back out he’s standing in the same spot you left him, staring around like a lost little kid waiting for someone to give him direction. Well you won't be doing it tonight. Wordlessly you take a seat on the stool, trying your best to ignore his stare burning into the side of your face. You’d snap at him if you didn’t think you’d have a meltdown. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go? I know you said tonight was the only night that would work for your date and I swear to you I can handle it. The place’ll still be standing tomorrow.” 

Maybe you should go. You could go home and lay in your bed and wallow some more, eat some ice cream and try and forget the past week had ever happened. But you couldn’t. You needed the money and you certainly weren’t gonna hide from Steve when he’s the one that fucked up. So with all the courage you can muster you turn to him, doing your best to give a blank face so he can’t see the hurt brewing behind your eyes. 

“No, Harrington. I don’t go on dates, remember?” 

            **************************************

Steve watches you turn away from him and fuck, okay he deserved that. He was a major asshole who had spent the last 3 days trying and failing to figure out how to get you to forgive him. 

Then you walk in looking so pretty that for a second he forgets that you’re mad at him, that he had fucked up. But then he sees your eyes and they look sad, detached and that kills him all over again. 

If he thought you might have disliked him before then he had no idea how good he had it! He’d give anything for you to smirk at him, to call him an idiot or to roll your eyes and pretend like you didn’t care when he rambled on, even though he could tell you did care, your eyes always gave you away. 

“Can I please just—”

“No.”

“Please, I’m begging for you to just—”

“No, Steve.” 

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Goddamnit please just let me at least try and explain myself a little bit. I know I don’t deserve it but I hurt you and I never, ever wanted to do that. Please. 5 minutes, honey. Please.” 

He thinks he’s shocked you, eyes widening the tiniest bit before you shrug at him, casting a quick look his way before you turn back around and face away from him. 

“I’m listening.” 

Doing your best to ignore the fact that he just called you honey, he’s never done that, you turn to him and shrug, trying to act indifferent but on the inside you’re dying to know what he has to say. You want to know what he really thinks even though it goes against everything you’ve ever thought or stood for. 

Jesus Christ you were the pathetic one, hoping for the reassurance of King Steve. Highschool you would absolutely kick your ass if she could see you now. 

“I’m not…good at sorting my thoughts, especially around you and the shit I said the other day came out so wrong, so not how I meant it and I just—fuck I’m sorry. I never want you to be sad or hurt because of me…or anything at all,” He didn’t even know how to properly say anything without it coming out that he just liked you so much it made him a fool! “I was not trying to suggest people didn’t want to take you out, that came out all wrong. I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting for you to give them a chance,” I would know, I’m front and center. “But I was just surprised because I hadn’t ever heard you talk about going on dates so I guess I just assumed…I don’t know. I’m an idiot who was also maybe just a little jealous and fuck it’s not even my business what you do! The point is that I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings, it was never my intention.” 

It had been a few minutes with neither of you saying anything, the store empty and only the buzz of the crappy ac could be heard around you as he waited for you to say something, anything. 

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? I’ll do it, I swear. I hate you being upset with me, it fuckin’ sucks.” He couldn’t help it, his skin was crawling the longer you stayed quiet and he thinks he’d do anything to get you to not look so sad. 

He hears a small huff from you and if he was looking he’d have seen it was a small laugh of disbelief. “I may be mean but I’m not cruel, Harrington. I wouldn’t make you get on your knees on this floor.” 

Relief flooded through him and despite the humidity swirling around in the air he swore he felt cooler, lighter than he did before. “Does this mean I’m off your shit list then?” 

Your laugh was loud this time and he felt his chest swell with pride that he had been the one to cause it, even if he hadn’t meant to. 

“What makes you so sure I have a shit list?” 

“Oh come on, you definitely do.” Things felt somewhat normal again and it eased the ache in his chest that had lived there for 3 long days. Maybe this whole thing would make you guys even closer, actually make you friends. 

“Alright, maybe I do. And you’re definitely on it, but not because of what happened,” He found himself smiling at you and if he looked close enough he swore he saw a ghost of a smile on your lips before you wiped it away with the back of your hand, “but about the other day, I…you did hurt my feelings. I know, it’s shocking I have them but every once in a while I’m reminded I’m just like the rest of you, unfortunately. Look, I’ve worked with you a while and you’re sweet, Steve. You’re a good guy and when you were saying those things…I know you didn’t mean it the way it came out, but it made me feel..fuck I hate this shit. It made me feel like you thought I wasn’t good enough or pretty enough or some shit like that and it just…it fucked with me, okay? But I know you’d never be cruel like that so I forgive you. We’ll forget this happened so I don’t have to talk about my feelings anymore and we’ll be good. We are good. Fuck I’ll even admit we’re friends if we can not talk about this ever again.” 

“You think I don’t think you’re pretty or good enough?” That was all his brain could think of. How the fuck could you think that? Had he not been obvious? He all but drooled over you every time you were in his line of sight. 

“Really, Steve? That’s all you got! I just said we were friends. I'd thought you’d be over the moon.” Your eyes were looking everywhere but him and he knew you were trying to deflect. You’d just been vulnerable with him and he should move on but he couldn’t stomach you thinking you weren’t good enough or pretty enough, let alone thinking that he thought those things! 

“Honey, I’d be lucky even if you even gave me a second glance. Good enough? You’re too good for me and every other sorry prick in this town. I fuckin’ swear it. I was caught off guard and jealous. Jealous that someone else had gotten you to give them the time of day!” You looked stunned but he kept going, “And I can give you all the dirty details about how pretty you are. How I spend all day practically getting paid to stare at you, what a job! How I’ve memorized every little detail of your pretty face, how I stare a little too long when you’re bent over in front of me. Or how I think about your cute little mouth wrapped around that blow pop and wish it was my—”

“Steve Harrington!” You’d slapped your palm over his mouth to shut him up and if he wasn’t enjoying how squirmy you suddenly were he’d nip at your palm to make you jump. It was nice seeing you all red faced and hot because of him for a change, even though he loved it when it was the other way around. 

Maybe he’d said too much, let his filter slip a little too far but he wanted—no needed for you to know how perfect you were. Not just to him but to anyone with common sense. 

Pulling your palm away he opened his mouth but you shot him a glare as he did, as if you could sense he was going to do it. He watched as you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear and cleared your throat bringing your weary eyes to meet his. 

“Smacking me around now?” He was a little shit, he knew it but he was sure you liked it anyway. 

“You love it.” And shit, you’d got him there. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him with a smile on his face and his heart happy. But just because he’d made you feel better didn’t mean the hurt just went away and he’d do whatever it took to fix it. 

“Caught me,” He threw you a wink that you ignored, rolling your eyes at him, “but seriously, there’s not one thing wrong with you and I’m sorry that I made you feel any different. I’m a dick. I’ll tell you till I’m blue in the face how pretty you are if that’s what it takes.” 

“Oh no, I’ve heard plenty, you perv. Now I know why you’re so quiet when I’m reorganizing the bottom shelves, you’re staring at my ass!” He shrugged at you sheepishly, not being near as embarrassed as he should be for admitting that. 

“But…thank you, Steve. This was just a misunderstanding that you’ve more than cleared up. We’re good, Harrington. I’m good.” And the relief he felt was seen on his face and felt throughout his body. He could’ve used the moment to be sweet, dragging out the conversation but you still looked a little uneasy about opening up to him so he thought it better to go back to territory you were comfortable with, him annoying you. 

“Oh I know we’re good! We’re friends now, remember? Don’t think I’ll ever let you forget it.” 

              *************************************

Things between you and Steve had been…good. 

There was a bit of tension between you, the kind that made your throat dry when you looked at him and your thighs clench when he whispered something in your ear if customers were around and he didn’t want them to hear. Maybe it was from the things he admitted or maybe it was because you were suddenly much more aware of Steve. 

You’d had your talk, if you could call it that, a few weeks ago and the time you’ve spent together since then had been mostly normal. Steve, getting on your nerves, rambling about nothing for as long as you’d let him, looking at you with those pitiful puppy dog eyes when you gave him some attention. You, teasing him relentlessly, even more now than before. Covering for him less, he’d been showing up on time almost every shift you had together. Bending over in front of him more just to hear him curse and see his cheeks flush. 

And maybe kind of developing a crush on him. 

It’s not your fault, it’s his! How were you supposed to resist him after he said he’d be lucky to go out with you, after he told you he’d been jealous someone else was, after he told you how pretty you were and how he thought about your mouth wrapped around his—

Fuck—no, you were not going down that road again. Every time you thought about what he said, how genuine and needy he seemed when he talked about you, your head got all fuzzy and your knees threatened to give out. It was all you could do not to pounce on him the second the words left his mouth. 

So yeah, you had a big fat crush on Steve Harrington. 

He’d also taken your comment about being friends to heart, bringing it up every chance he got and using it as an excuse for the two of you to spend even more time together. You’d walk in Family Video and he’d flash you that smile, opening his arms for a hug you pretended to hate but in reality looked forward to every day. 

“Hello, friend.” 

“As your friend I have to tell you how pretty you look today.” 

“C’mon friend, come to this party with me. It’ll be lame without you.” 

You’d threatened to revoke his “friend” privileges and he’d gasped, clutching his chest dramatically and pretending to stumble to the floor. It took everything in you not to giggle at his antics. You were quickly becoming obsessed with Steve, and even more obsessed with how quick you could get him to turn into a puddle at your feet. 

That was how you find yourself here at the Hawkins public pool with your bag strap digging uncomfortably into your shoulder and sweat dripping down your back, wearing what you’d bet was a grimace as you walked around the scattered chairs looking for Steve. 

One thing that remained constant and strong was the mid summer heat that took your breath away and put you in a less than pleasant mood most of the time. Poor Steve got the brunt of your frustration but he never complained. And that’s why you finally agreed to come to the pool with him, because he was sweet and patient and adorable, even when he was annoying the shit out of you. 

What you didn’t account for was the added heat you’d endure from seeing Steve shirtless before you, arms crossed over his chest and pale pink swim trunks sitting on his hips. 

When did Steve Harrington get chest hair and why was your mouth watering over it? It made him look sexy, older in a way that erased all boyish features you’d come to love. He looked…fuck he looked hot. His hair was slicked back and you knew he’d already gotten in, too impatient to wait for the 10 minutes longer it had taken you to get here. He had a trail of hair on his lower belly that ran down under the band of his swim trunks and you think you might have actually let out a whimper at the sight. 

You took a step toward him and cursed yourself when your legs wobbled a little bit. If he saw it he didn’t say anything, righting yourself quickly and making your way over so you could toss your bag into his waiting arms, trying not to look at the patch of chest hair just inches from your face and failing miserably. 

“My own personal pool boy, a girl could get used to this.” 

It didn’t take long to figure out that the easiest and quickest way to get yourself together was to turn it on him, to make his hands twitch and his stomach clench and to tease him until he was panting like a puppy. 

“At your service, ma’am.” 

Grabbing your arm he tugged you to the chairs he’d saved for the two of you, a cooler sitting between them with the lunch he’d made for the both of you. It makes your heart skip a beat and your tummy flutters. Your sweet Stevie. 

He sat your bag down between the chairs, laying back so his arms were stretched back and crossed behind his head, a twinge in your stomach tightening as you watched him stretch out before you. A fucking Greek god. You needed to even the playing field and you needed to do it now. 

Grabbing the sunscreen from your bag you put on the sweetest smile you could conjure while your body screamed at you to straddle his thighs and kiss him dumb. “Stevie, can you help me out with this?” He nodded without thought, that’s just how kind he was, sitting up to grab the bottle from your hands. 

Before he could make a move to get up you knocked his legs apart, pushing yourself down and back so that you were wedged between his thighs, your back almost completely pressed against his front. 

He cursed behind you, trying to scoot back but your hands dug into his thighs to keep him there, a silent plea. You’re sure if you could see his face he’d look almost pained at the feeling of your skin pressed to his. 

You heard him flip the cap open and squeeze some sunscreen in his hand, neither of you saying anything for a moment before he leaned forward, his lips almost touching the shell of your ear when he spoke, “s’gonna be cold.” You nodded wordlessly and straightened up a little, pushing back further into him. 

“Fuck.” You didn’t mean for it to slip out and hoped you could blame it on the cold lotion hitting your back, but you knew that was a lie. Steve’s big, calloused hands on your shoulders and back had you holding back whines and moans threatening to climb up your throat. Jesus Christ this felt good, too good. 

Any composure you had left flew out the window at his next move and you were quickly falling behind in the one sided game you’d started with him. 

You felt his hands move down lower to where the string of your bikini tied in the back, your thighs clenching hard when he slid them toward the front, following the line of your top and just barely slipping under the cup of your breast to tease the skin there before he was pulling back and going to your shoulders again. 

Holy fuck. 

He tensed behind you when your fingers dug harder into his thighs, but you didn’t even mean to. It was just a knee jerk reaction to his fingers gliding over the underside of your boob for Christ's sake. It wasn’t until you leaned back just a little, totally innocent you were just readjusting, that you felt it. 

Steve was hard. His swimsuit did a shit job of concealing it. And he was pressed up against you so tightly you could feel him throb against your lower back when you gasped. This was your opportunity to one up him, to move ahead a few spaces. 

Head turning to the side just slightly so he was in your peripheral, you needed to make sure he was looking and listening. You spoke as if you weren’t dripping wet yourself, thighs sore from how hard you’d been squeezing them together. 

“Poor baby, touching my shoulders and grazing a pair of tits has you all needy, huh?” 

He whined low in his throat, leaning forward to press his forehead against your back. You could feel little puffs of air against your skin as he tried to compose himself, not that you’d let him. 

“Stop. Don’t be mean.” The words were whispered against your skin and you smiled. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I’m mean. Gets you hard, doesn't it, when I tease you?” You were being mean, so mean, but if the way he subtly tried to buck up against you was indication of how he felt, he loved it. 

You kept going, basking in the feeling of his hands grilling your hips tight and his breathing against your back was getting faster the more you talked. 

“You really are like a puppy. It’s just so fucking cute how whiny you get when you’re like this.” 

Both of you stilled when a whimper slipped out a little too loud and all of a sudden you remembered where you were, a fucking public pool. Steve must have realized too because he pulled back, scooting far enough away that you weren’t touching anymore and you hated how you already missed the feel of his skin on yours. 

Clearing your throat you shuffled over to the other chair, glancing at Steve to see his mouth shut and eyes looking anywhere but you. Maybe you’d gone too far. You opened your mouth to apologize but before you could he was up and tugging you to the edge of the pool, jumping in and practically dragging you in with him. 

The cool water actually did a good job of cooling you down, physically and mentally. When you broke the surface, gasping for air, Steve was already there looking at you. You couldn’t read the look on his face, couldn’t tell if he was upset with you so you bit the bullet. 

“M’sorry if I went too far, Steve. It’s just…you were…the sunscreen—you were making me feel crazy so I wanted to even it up. I shouldn’t have done that though, especially not here. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

For the first time since you came up from the water he broke his stare, opting to look around you before he came closer, pulling you in so no one would hear your conversation. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m not. I only pulled away because I was seconds from cumming in my shorts like a teenage boy and I was embarrassed.” 

Lips pulling into a smile you covered your mouth and he pouted at you, huffing like a child when he saw you trying not to laugh at him. “No need to be embarrassed, Stevie. You can’t help that you’re a needy little thing.” 

His hand swatted at yours that had come up to pinch his cheeks and you cooed at him to tease him further. “So mean.” He tried to look annoyed but failed and it made your stomach dip at how pretty he looked, drops of water falling off his lashes, lashes you and every girl in Hawkins would kill for. 

“You really are pretty, Harrington.” The tips of his ears burned bright red and he moved toward you instinctively, like he wanted to kiss you. God did you want to kiss him. But you didn’t want to do it in a public place where you wouldn’t be able to make a mess of him after so you pulled back and splashed some water in his face with a giggle. 

“C’mon big boy, let’s swim! I didn't come all this way just to stare at your cute face.” 

Although you wouldn’t mind it. 

          *******************************************

The next few weeks are quiet, work goes by painfully slow when you’re not with Steve and you hate it. Your shifts with Steve are filled with teasing touches and flushed cheeks and very little work. 

You’ve also been spending a good chunk of the time you’re not at work with Steve as well. He somehow almost always convinces you to come over to watch a movie or go with him for a late night ice cream run. You find yourself in his car or playing with his hair while you lay in your bed more often than not. 

And you love it. 

Trying to act like you weren’t obsessed with him was exhausting so you mostly gave it up. You’d smile at him more, laugh at his jokes more freely, and have become much more touchy with him. 

Neither of you could seem to keep your hands off each other if you were in the same room. He always had to have a hand on your hip or one holding your thigh and you couldn’t keep your fingers from rubbing at his neck or slipping through his hair if he was close. 

There hadn’t been a conversation about what was happening, but neither of you seemed to mind. You think that you’d become best friends who were just crazy about each other and that was enough for both of you. 

Until it wasn’t. 

If you were being fair, you knew that technically you and Steve hadn’t officially become exclusive or anything. The two of you probably weren’t even dating, even though you spent all your time together. Cuddling and teasing constantly. 

But you weren’t fair. Everyone who spent any amount of time in a public setting knew that you and Steve were, for lack of a better word, an item. If someone saw you at the grocery store or at the post office, or anywhere, it was a safe bet that Steve was two paces behind you if he wasn’t already at your hip. 

This was common knowledge. Or at least you thought it was. So it’s a surprise, a bad one at that, when you come back from your break with a smile on your face that is quickly wiped away when you see some blonde you went to school with hanging over the counter with her tits pushed at Steve, a devious smile on her face as she bats her eyelashes at him. 

All the blood rushes from your body and you’re not sure you can even keep down the sandwich you’d had for lunch. A sandwich that Steve had made for you, might you add. There’s a horrible twist in your belly and you’ve never felt such rage as you have looking at the way she toys with the collar of his shirt between her fingers and at the way he gives her a small smile and doesn’t pull away. 

You were jealous. So jealous it took the breath right out of you and made your brain go blank. One minute you’re standing there with your skin hot and heart pounding and the next you’re sliding back into your seat beside Steve with a glare so sharp it could cut glass. 

“Need help with anything or are you just gonna keep groping the staff?” If your glare was sharp your words were sharper, serious and stern and directed at the girl who was still touching Steve, your Steve. 

Both the girl and Steve’s eyes widen at your tone. She finally takes a step back and you feel like you can breathe again. You see the way Steve’s staring at you but you don’t look at him, you can’t or you might do something crazy like hit this girl, or even worse, cry. 

Once the initial embarrassment from your words wears off she straightens her back and narrows her eyes in your direction. “I think we had it handled, sweetie. Your coworker here,” You flinch at the way she emphasizes coworker and feel yourself shrink a little, “was just giving me some movie recommendations. But thanks for the offer.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then.” The words taste bitter on your tongue and you want to slap the smirk off her face so bad your palm twitches. Steve is quiet beside you and you can’t even begin to process how that adds to your fury, to the pain that’s bubbling up beneath your skin and threatening to spill out. 

You’ve taken one, maybe two steps away from the counter, ready to go back to the bathroom of shame and cry again over Steve fucking Harrington when a hand on your wrist stops you. 

The same hand, the one that belongs to the boy you’ve become enamored with, tugs you gently back to his side, hand leaving you for just a second so he can wrap his arm around your waist and tug you into his side. Your hips are touching and you feel a wave of relief wash over you, the pain and anger dissolving while his hand grips you tightly against him. 

A sick satisfaction runs through you as you watch the way her jaw clenches and her eyes dim as his arm curls around you. Coworker my ass. Steve clears his throat beside you, catching yours and her attention, “I’m afraid I’m all out of recommendations for you, but maybe my coworker here has some for you.” Before she can even think about speaking you cut her off with a faux pout, “I don’t think I do, sorry!” 

Deciding Steve isn’t worth the battle you’re more than willing to start, what an idiot, she turns around and pretends to look through the new releases for all of five seconds before she’s scurrying out of the store and leaving you both alone again. 

Steve gives one last squeeze to your hip before he moves to sit back down, the reality of your little outburst smacking you in the face. Well, this is awkward. You sit down on your stool, tapping your hands on the counter while you try and gather the courage to look at him. 

You hope he’s not upset with you and if he is well…fuck him! Just because you haven’t said it out loud doesn’t mean he’s not yours. You know for a fact if he caught you flirting with a guy he’d be pissed! All whiny and pouty and pawing at you for attention. So you were justified in being upset, totally and fully justified. 

Now you’ve worked yourself up to tell him off and give him a piece of your mind, and you turn to him to do just that when it all slips away in an instant. Because Steve isn’t upset, no, he’s staring at you with wide, bright eyes and a smirk so big and knowing you curse yourself in your head. 

Oh this is even worse! Now you’ve given him a big head, bigger than he already had! 

“So that was…interesting.” You can hear the amusement in his tone and you roll your eyes. You much prefer him all pathetic and whiny over this…cocky Steve. But really you don’t mind this either. 

“Shut it, Harrington.” You think if you weren’t so obsessed with him you’d have the decency to be even a little embarrassed at how you acted but you aren’t! You practically marked your territory in front of her and you can’t find it in you to care or regret it. 

“You were jealous. Over me! I’ll never shut up about this! I’m taking a spot in the paper for this, alerting the press as we speak!” His bottom lip between his teeth and he looked giddy like it was Christmas morning and he’d gotten the brand new shiny bicycle he’d spent all year wishing for. 

You could have denied it, but what was the point in that? Everyone already knew anyway how you felt, you weren’t exactly subtle about it. Might as well embrace it at this point. 

“And so what if I was? Figure you’re mine anyways, right?” Your cheeks tint the lightest shade of pink as you watch him take in your words, his eyes a little wide and a small shy smile on his lips. 

“I am?” 

God okay, maybe you hadn’t been as obvious as you thought the last months. 

“Well…I thought so. You take up all my time anyways, Harrington, might as well. Plus I like you—well a lot. I’m yours too, ya know. If you want I guess, I don’t know, I thought this was just unspoken between us and now you’re making me nervous!” 

His lips parted in what could either be shock or awe, you weren’t sure. He didn’t look appalled at the idea so that was a good sign, right? 

“I’m sorry I just…sometimes I’m not even sure you like me all that much so I’m just a little shocked but yes! Fuck—yes I’ll be whatever you want.” 

Maybe he was a little dumb or maybe you weren’t as good at showing your feelings as you thought but either way you’d make sure he felt wanted, needed by you. 

“Steve, if I didn’t like you I promise I would not be spending all my time with you. I’m mean sometimes because you like it and I like seeing you all messy and cute. M’kinda obsessed with you, you idiot.”

His grin widened, dimples popping out and your heart sped up at the sight. He was pretty, so pretty and despite how you acted sometimes you felt so lucky that he even wanted to spend any time with you, let alone all of it. Steve Harrington had wiggled his way deep into your heart and your brain and you think your life would be dull without him. 

“I’d ask you to pinch me but I know you’ll make it hurt,” Your hand reached out automatically towards his thigh and he swatted you away with an eye roll, “I’m obsessed with you too, have been for months. Since the first day you started actually. Want you to be my girl, wanna be yours too.” 

Leaning forward you pressed a quick peck to the corner of his mouth and you felt his head turn, trying to catch your lips. He wouldn’t get off the hook that easily, it took no effort to remember how it felt to see that girl's hands all over him. Even if it wasn’t his fault you don’t think he’d mind paying for it anyways. Add on the cocky grin he had earlier when he realized you were jealous and all of a sudden you had big plans for Steve Harrington, plans that made your thighs clench and had you pulsing around nothing. 

You cooed at him, pulling back just in time to see his brows furrowed and a cute little pout working its way on his lips. He had no idea what was coming to him and you couldn’t want to see how sorry he would be. 

“Patience is key, baby.” 

          *****************************************

It was a week later when it all clicked for Steve. 

A week of teasing touches and sneaky glances his way, even when people were looking. You’d leave a kiss on his cheek or the corner of his mouth or on the side of his neck right right under his ear. He was going crazy, body leaning forward subconsciously anytime you were near him. 

You’ve barely let him touch you and at first he was worried but you’d whisper in his ear about “payback” for making you jealous and while he was nervous, now he was just excited. And impatient, wanting and begging for you to just do it already. He couldn’t take much more teasing, his cock had been aching for what felt like forever and no matter how many times he found himself in bed, stroking himself to the thought of you, it wouldn’t ever be enough. 

He thinks you’ve finally decided to put him out of his misery, calling him earlier to ask if you could come over, that you had a special surprise that was just for him. He’d agreed without hesitation, telling you to come over whenever you wanted and that he’d be waiting for you. His parents weren’t around this weekend so he didn’t have to worry about them and he was thanking god for that. 

It had been 4 hours and 37 minutes since you called, not that he’d been counting, when he heard a knock at his door that had him all but jumping over the couch and sprinting for the front door. He practically ripped it open, grinning wide as he took you in with dreamy eyes and his stomach twisted in knots. 

You were wearing a sundress that reached about mid thigh and he had to hold himself upright with the door at the sight of your bare legs, tan and smooth and fuck he just needed to bite at the skin between your thighs. The dress had little strawberries printed all over and he’d bet money that you tasted just as sweet as the fruit. His mouth watered at the sight of your full lips all glossy with whatever you’d put on them and it took everything in him not to lean forward and suck your bottom lip into his mouth. 

He didn’t realize he had been standing there just staring until you cleared your throat, a knowing smirk on your lips as he shook his head to clear him from the daze you’d put him in. “S’pretty, you’re so pretty.” His voice was quiet and he wasn’t sure if he meant for you to hear or if he was just talking to himself. 

“Thank you, handsome. Can I come in or do I need to stand on the porch with you eye-fucking me all night?” He doesn’t think he’d ever get used to your crassness, even though he wasn’t complaining about it. He loved that you spoke your mind, no matter how dirty, and hoped what one day he’d be comfortable doing that too. 

“Right, right, yes come in,” Pulling the door open he stepped to the side so you could come in, knees wobbling when he caught a whiff of your perfume as you passed, “Are you hungry? I can…order something. I don’t have much to cool but maybe I could run to the store real quick?” 

He heard your muffled giggle as you walked through the house in front of him, hips swaying as you walked and he felt his cock twitch in his pants just looking at you. 

“Just hungry for you, Stevie.” 

You were teasing, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure you weren’t serious by the way you eyed him over your shoulder like he was your prey. And fuck did he want to be. He’d crawl around on the floor if you asked. 

By the time he followed your trail and made it through the living room you were at the foot of the stairs, lip between your teeth and hands together behind your back all innocent. You both knew better than to believe that. 

“Can I see your room?” Fuck this was happening. He nodded at you, grabbing your small hand with his and relishing in the way it felt to hold you. He led you up the stairs and was careful not to go too fast, to seem too eager. He knows you’d tease him for being so excited but based on the look in your eyes he thought that maybe you were pretty excited too. 

Pushing his door open he watched as you took in his room, eyes light as you scanned over the posters he’d hung haphazardly, some artwork the kids had drawn for him hanging above his desk. His bed was unmade and he cursed himself, as if you’d care. 

“Looks exactly how I pictured it.” 

“You pictured my room?” 

“Maybe.” 

He stood still, leaning up against the door he’d closed and locked behind him as you made your way around, lifting up papers and magazines, humming quietly to yourself. You must have been a witch or something the way he’d become so entranced with you, following your every move like he wasn’t meant to do anything else.

So when you turn around to face him quickly, he’s startled, eyes shooting up to meet yours like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner. 

“Alright then, on the bed.” 

The flurry of questions he has does little to deter him as he scrambles past you and pushes on the bed a little too quickly. He falls forward face first and hears you snicker behind him. He’s not sure where you want him so he hopes he’s right. He scoots back, flush against the wall, the headboard on his left and foot of the bed on his right. 

“You want this, Harrington? I’m not misreading anything, right?” 

He’s shaking his head furiously, eyes wide and mouth closed as he watches for your next move. 

“Oh now you have nothing to say? Months of knowing you and you’re hardly ever quiet. Use your words, big boy.” 

“Y-yes, I want this. Whatever you want.” 

The smile you reward him with makes his chest ache and the blood rush through him so fast he can hear it pounding in his ears. He thinks he wants you looking like that all the time, proud and pleased with him. 

“Good! It’s time for payback then.” 

        **********************************************

You really really hoped your nerves didn’t show on your face as you stood in front of Steve. You don’t think he’d notice even if they did, eyes glazed over as he waited for whatever you had planned. 

Now at this point you were over the whole jealousy thing from last week, really you were! But you played into it a little extra just so you could be mean to him right now. Although with the plans you had, you’d be being mean to him and yourself. 

Wordlessly you reached down, fingers toying with the hem of your dress and you watched as Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, throat bobbing slightly as you lifted it a few inches before letting it drop back down. 

This only lasted for a few minutes before you’d had enough, gripping your dress and almost ripping it over your head and letting it drop to your feet. What you hadn’t mentioned was that you had nothing underneath it, absolutely nothing. 

Steve drank you in, slack jawed with his eyes almost bugging out of his head when he moved from your face to your tits, staring at your already hard nipples that you would blame on the coolness in his room. His eyes moved down further and he groaned, a deep, guttural sound that made your clit throb under his stare. 

Was that some drool leaking down to his chin? 

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

“Can I?” You don’t think he even realized the words left his mouth and you fought the urge to laugh at how out of it he seemed already. 

“Not tonight, baby.” 

His hands fisted the sheets below him as the pet name slipped past your lips and you smiled sweetly at him. Pointing to the headboard you directed him with a quiet voice, “I’m gonna sit there,” moving your hand to point toward the foot of his bed he followed your finger eagerly, “and you’re gonna sit there, facing me.” 

He obeyed instantly, shuffling toward where’d you directed him while you climbed onto the bed and and situated yourself against his headboard with your legs stretched out in front of you. 

“Can I have your shirt?” It wasn’t anything special, a plain white t-shirt that hugged him beautifully, but you wanted it all the same. To have his smell surrounding you, covering you in him. He peeled it off so he was left in a pair of jeans that stuck to him in all the right places. Unsure of what to do he tossed it to you and you wasted no time in slipping it over your bare frame, pleased that it bunched at your hips just how you’d hoped.

You could see the disappointment in his face at the extra layer you’d added and you itched to lean forward and pinch his flushed cheeks in adoration. He was just so adorable it made you crazy. With everyone else he was strong and stern, the babysitter and protector and king of Hawkins.

But with you…with you he was soft and sweet, pliable in your hands like putty and you ate up every second of it. 

           ****************************************

Steve thinks he might have gone to heaven, you sitting across from him in nothing but his shirt with your thighs on display. 

His chest feels hot despite the cool air hitting his skin and he thinks if he doesn’t get his hands on you in the next three seconds something horrible might happen. You're giving him that teasing smile that makes his tummy clench and sends excitement zipping down his spine. 

He still can’t believe you like him, that you’re obsessed with him. It’s like a dream come true and he thinks he’s pinched himself at least 17 times in the last week. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you call his name softly, head snapping up to meet yours and he feels dizzy all over again from how pretty you look. 

“You’re gonna watch me, okay? No touching me or yourself until I say.” Wait—what? He gives you a nod and tries not to let his disappointment show in his face, and he knows he fails based on the way you smile and shake your head at him. 

But any disappointment he had is gone in a flash when you lean back and spread your legs to give him a glimpse at just how much you like him. He might black out, he’s not sure. You’re glistening for him, a little bit of slick on your thighs and suddenly he’s starved. He audibly groans at the sight of you on display for him. 

“She’s pretty—fuck so pretty.” He’s talking more to himself than you but he sees the way you twitch at him referring to your pussy as “her” and it makes him smile shyly, still not moving his eyes from where you’re dripping on his bed. 

He watches closely as your hand trails down, rubbing over your thighs for just a second before you’re taking two fingers and spreading yourself open for him, both of you too impatient to drag this out too long. Before he can stop himself he’s moving forward, going to his knees and crawling across his bed that feels far too big all of a sudden. He doesn’t realize he’s moved until your legs are closed and one foot is pressed against his bare chest, stopping him from getting any closer. 

One hand is holding him up and the other is holding onto your ankle as he pleads with his eyes for you to let him closer, just a taste, he just needs one little taste. 

“We’ve just started and you’re already breaking the rules?” The faux disappointment in your tone makes him pout, leaning down to press a small kiss against your calf and he hears you chuckle at his attempt at distracting you. 

“M’sorry, baby, you’re just so pretty, she’s so pretty. Let me have a taste, please? I’ll be good after that, I swear. Just one taste, honey.” 

He watches in anticipation, hope is swelling in his chest as you study him and he can see the contemplation in your eyes as you take him in. He’s so close he can smell you and it lights his whole body up, cock so hard pressed up against his jeans he could cry. 

“Hmm, no,” He hears the whine he makes but can’t be bothered to care, “what fun is payback if I give in before I’ve even touched myself! You can be patient, I know you can.” You have much more faith in him than he has in himself, body slumping in defeat before he’s moving back to where you directed him the first time. 

“Can I at least take these jeans off? It hurts, baby.” 

“Fine, but the boxers stay on, sneaky.” It takes him no time before he’s peeling his jeans off, sighing in relief when some of the pressure is released and he feels like he can breathe again. 

Well he can breathe until you’re spreading your legs again, fingers slipping back down to tease at your clit as your eyes stay locked on him. His chest is tightening as he watches you. Watching the way your legs spread wider when you notice him fisting the sheets beside him. Watching the way your head falls back against his headboard when you move down to circle your messy hole, a moan so lewd coming from your mouth he feels a bead of precum drip down his cock. 

Jesus Christ, he couldn’t decide if this was heaven or hell but he’s sure that either way he’d gladly spend an eternity here. 

He’s torn between watching your face or watching your fingers in your cunt, eyes flickering between the two every few seconds so he didn’t miss something important. He remembers how you compare him to a puppy and he’s sure he’s never looked more like one than he does right now. He’s practically panting across from you and you’re the treat that would be making his tail wag—if he had one. 

“Feels so good, Stevie. This is how wet I get just from thinking about you, ya know? Always have me messy and ready for you.” 

“Please let me touch you. Fuck—please, sweetheart. Need it so bad, need you so bad. I’ll be good, I swear. Never make you jealous again. God I swear I’ll do anything.” 

He knew you were getting close, thighs threatening to close on your hand and hips lifting from the bed eagerly. He could see it on your face too—you wanted to deny him, to torture him some more but he could see you giving in. 

“You beg so pretty, Harrington. Fuck, get over here. Now.” 

He didn't need to be told twice, launching himself across the bed and fitting himself between your thighs that had opened a little to accommodate his wide frame. He waited expectantly, and you smiled down at him fondly. 

“You know, you really look like a—”

“A puppy, I know. So can I have my treat then?” 

Nodding at him you swiped your fingers through your folds and held your hand out to him, fingers shiny with you and he opened his mouth quickly. His head moved forward and he took your fingers in his mouth, lapping his tongue around them greedily, determined not to waste a single drop. He hummed around them, eyes closed so he didn't see the way you were staring at him like he’d hung the moon. 

“S’good then?” You sounded breathless above him and he could only nod, not wanting to drop your fingers from his mouth just yet. God, you tasted good. He’d compare you to a nice summer treat but the truth is you’d be perfect for any season, any day. Fuck he’d stay buried between your thighs 24/7 if you’d let him. 

He finally pulled off just enough so that he could speak, “better than a blow pop.” The laugh that pulled from you made his heart warm. It was loud and genuine, shoulders shaking slightly as you grinned at him, teeth on display and everything. 

It was quiet for a few minutes, you pressing your fingers down on his tongue and even though he’d cleaned them up, the taste of you lingered and he would gladly sit here with your fingers in his mouth for hours. 

But you had other plans. 

“Need your fingers, Stevie. They’re bigger than mine and I’m already close from watching you lap at my fingers like a little greedy puppy.” His eyes fell from yours, cheeks red and ears burning as you teased him. 

“Can I use my mouth?” 

“Mhm, not today. I already gave in way too quick, you were just too cute to say no to.” He wants to pout, to protest and beg but he thinks just watching you fall apart on his fingers will be more than enough for him. 

You part your legs further as he slips down to rest his cheek against your inner thigh. His hair tickles the soft, sensitive skin there and you giggle. He moves just enough to press a quick, open mouthed kiss and dreams about the marks he hopes you’ll let him leave there one day. 

With a nod from you he moves his eyes to your cunt, swollen and dripping, and runs his fingers over your clit just to feel your thigh twitch against his cheek. He wraps the hand he’s not using around your thigh, clutching it to him tightly as he eases two of his fingers into you. They slip in easily with no resistance and the feeling of your warm, hot walls snug on his fingers makes him grind his hips down into his bed. 

“Shit—she feels good, hugging my fingers so tight.” Your hips buck up against his hand, urging him in deeper and he smiles against your leg. A groan slips out of him when your hand slips down to rub slow, loose circles on your clit, head rolling back so that all you can see is his eyes peeking up at you. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so hot in his entire life. He can see the little beads of sweat rolling down your forehead and how you’re panting and whining above him, especially when he curls his fingers upward and finds that spongy spot that has your mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing shut. 

“There it is, yeah? That’s the spot?” You’re nodding quickly, fingers that were circling your clit are now sliding into his hair and gripping it tightly. The burn of it makes him moan against your thigh, the sting of your grip making his eyes roll back into his head almost. 

“D-don’t you dare stop, Harrington. M’close, so so close.” He doesn’t think there is anything that could get him to stop. Not when you’re dripping down his hand and your thighs are shaking like they are. 

The final straw is when he moves his mouth down a couple of inches, teeth scraping against the skin where your thighs almost touch and he bites down, hard enough to leave a mark. He hears the thud of your head knocking against his headboard and the curse that flies out of your mouth as you clench down on him so hard you almost push his fingers out. He works you through it, licking over the mark he just left to soothe the sting and slowing down his fingers once you start to twitch and whine from the feeling. 

It’s not until you're pushing his hand away and letting your legs slump that he takes a peek at you, a lazy smile on your face and hair sticking to your forehead where you’d been sweating. He knows there’s a widening grin on his face as he looks up at you, placing one last kiss before he’s sitting himself up so his legs are under yours and his hands are resting on the tops of your thighs. 

“If that’s what you call payback then remind me to piss you off more often!” 

You roll your eyes, letting your body fall back against his headboard, “Don’t get smart with me now, Harrington. Not when I’m about to make you cum. I would hate to change my mind.” 

His ears perk up and honestly he hadn’t even thought about himself since he’d gotten between your thighs, content with watching you squirm and moan around his fingers. But he wasn’t gonna turn you down, hell no! Just the thought of you anywhere near his cock had him twitching in his boxers. 

He closed his mouth, fingers coming up to mimic zipping a zipper of his lips and tossing the non existent key far behind him. You smirked at him, hand coming close to pat his cheek, almost like you’d pet his head. 

“Good boy, now turn around and take those boxers off, please.” 

          ********************************************

Holy shit. You didn’t think you'd ever cum so hard in your life. You swear you might have actually seen stars for a minute there when he curled his fingers just right. And when he bit you? How the hell did he know you had a thing for biting. 

Keeping him at arm's length had been the hardest thing you’d ever had to do, especially when he was looking at you like you were a five course meal in front of him. He’d practically been salivating at the sight of you and it took everything in you not to give into him immediately. 

But now that you’d cum, all you could think about was him. About finally getting your hand on his cock and listening to the way he’d gasp and whine with your hand around him. Just the thought was enough to send another wave of arousal and need over you, your toes curling and fingers digging into his bed. 

He still hadn’t moved in front of you and you cocked your head at him, trying to figure out why he suddenly had that sad pout on his lips. “What’s the matter?”

His cheeks were red and he looked almost embarrassed as he tried to avoid eye contact with you and you worried you’d done something to upset him. Maybe this wasn’t as good for him, maybe he didn’t like you teasing him? 

“S’just…you haven’t kissed me and I just—I wanna kiss you so bad but I didn’t know if there was a reason you hadn’t or maybe you just didn’t want to or—”

You cut him off, gripping his shoulders and pushing your lips against his that were swollen and slick with spit. He moaned against you, sighing and relaxing in your hold. Fuck—how had you not kissed him yet? 

His tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you heard the little whine he let out when you didn’t let him in, laughing against his lips. He took the opportunity to move closer, hands moving to fist at your hair and you felt lightheaded from how good he felt, how sweet he tasted. 

When you needed to breathe you regretfully pulled back, foreheads touching and noses bumping into one another as you both took big, greedy gulps of air. His eyes almost sparkled as he looked at you, a shy smirk on both your mouths. 

“Better?”

“Perfect.” It was hard to ignore the way your heart thumped against your rib cage like it was trying to fight its way out. He was perfect. Everything about him and the way he carried himself drew you to him like a moth to a flame. Your mind was consumed with all things Steve. 

And while you wanted to be mushy and sweet with him, one glance down between you had your mouth watering and fingers twitching at your sides. There was a dark wet patch on his blue boxers and the outline of his cock was prominent. You think you know why he was so cocky in high school now, he definitely had the goods to back it up. 

“Kiss me whenever you want but if you don’t get your boxers off in the next 5 seconds I might do something crazy.” 

Your words snapped him out of his post kiss haze and you laughed softly as he scrambled off the bed to pull his boxers down his legs and practically kick them across the room. You gulped at the sight of him, of his pretty and thick cock already leaking and shiny for you. You motioned him forward, eyes kind and soft as you spread your legs for him. 

He smiled when you patted the space in front of you and he crawled back between your legs and shuffled so that he was sitting in front of you, his back pressed to your front, the material of his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. Your thighs stretched around his hips but you loved the slight burn it brought you. You laid back and brought him with you so that he was slumped against your chest, your feet hooked over his calves. 

His hands were on either one of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh there while his arms were loose at his sides. You took the opportunity to slip your hands under his arms, hands reaching up to run over his chest, tweaking one of his nipples on your way and watching the way his cock twitched where it was resting against his lower belly. 

Steve looked like a dream, head thrown back on your shoulder, thigh thighs spread open with his pretty cock on display for you. As your hands made their way to his tummy you scratched softly, fingers sliding through the trail that started under his belly button and went down. He must have felt sensitive there because he turned his head to the side, mouth pressed against your neck as he cursed. 

“S’good, so good. Fuck, I swear anything you do feels fuckin’ perfect.” You pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder at his words, feeling the high of them as he spoke. 

Holding your hand out in front of him, palm up toward his face he hummed against you, not sure what you were wanting him to do, but willing to do just about anything if it meant your hand would be on his cock. 

“Spit.” 

All that was heard in the room was his quick intake of air, eyes fluttering as he leaned toward your hand. He looked back at you once, to double check that this was real or for confirmation that you really wanted him to spit in your hand, you’re not sure. But you nodded, throat bobbing as he turned back and spit, watching in awe. 

“Good boy.” 

Any strength he had left was gone at your words, head falling back to its place on your shoulder as you moved your hand down, taking hold of his cock and hearing him hiss at the contact. 

You think this might be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

His cock was hot and smooth under your touch, a mix of his spit and precum making it easy to glide your hand over his shaft, letting your thumb catch on the tip and relishing in the way he gasped in your ear. 

“Such a pretty cock for a pretty boy, hmm?” The feeling of his fingers digging into your thighs only spurred you on, hand tight around him as you stroked him quickly, loving the way his tummy would clench and he’d gasp at how slick he was, how good it felt. 

You’d never seen him so needy, so pathetic as he was right now, little whines and pleas against the shell of your ear as you gripped him. He was heavy in your hand and you wondered how he’d feel on your tongue, how he’d taste when he thrusted into your mouth. You’d add that to the list of things you needed to do immediately. 

“M’sorry, sorry fuck—you’re gonna make me cum, m’gonna cum—oh shit.” He was throbbing hard against your palm, breathing even harder against your neck and you cooed at him when his hips started thrusting up in time with your strokes. 

“Without asking? I don’t think so, Stevie. You haven’t even said please!” Your hand slowed and he moved so his hand was wrapped over yours, trying to get you to go faster but you swatted him away, scolding him with a pinch to his hip. 

Taking one look at his face that was still buried in your throat, you could tell he was out of it, so fucked out you weren’t sure he could even form words, let alone beg. But that didn’t stop you from egging him on, slowing down until he was so worked up he was on the verge of tears. 

“Oh fuck—please…baby, honey, please let me cum? I’ve been so good I just..shit I need it. You feel so good, perfect girl. O-oh my god, please. Please please please.” 

He was mumbling, a mix of curses and pleas as he left sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your throat. You think you’d give him anything he wanted right now with how pretty he sounded, all pathetic and fucked out for you. 

“Go ahead, pretty boy. Cum on my hand, yeah? Make a mess of us.” Your hand sped up on his cock, feeling yourself leak into his bed as he twitched against your fingers. You kept going, kept talking as his hips got sloppy and cock was red and begging for release. 

“Don’t know how you’ll ever fit inside me, Stevie. Gonna have to prep me for days I think.” 

“Next time you’ll have to use my mouth, yeah? I hate letting your cum go to waste.” 

“Y’look so pretty like this. My sweet boy thrusting up into my hand, gonna think about this for days.”

He thrusted up one final time, hips stilling and body going tight as his orgasm took over. His cum coated your fist that was still wrapped around him, reaching his belly and even spilling down onto his thighs. He couldn’t even see the way you pouted at how much had been wasted, cursing yourself for not letting him use your mouth. 

Slumped completely against your chest he mumbled something about his legs feeling like jelly and you giggled, cheek resting against his forehead. 

“Soooo, good then?” 

It took all the energy he could muster to squeeze your thigh, head moving to the side a fraction so he could look at you, smiling so big his cheeks had to hurt. “Are you fuckin’ kidding? I think I just saw god for a second.” 

Rolling your eyes and shoving at his shoulders, butterflies danced in your stomach at how pretty he looked. His skin was flushed and glowing, hair a mess where you’d both pulled at it, lips swollen and red from biting and kissing and holding them between his teeth. He looked phenomenal. 

As much as you’d love to stay here wrapped up in him for the rest of your life, your thighs had gone numb from being stretched around his hips and your back ached from sitting back against his headboard for so long. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see him nodding off on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and little puffs of air hitting your skin. You tapped his cheeks with your clean hand, “C’mon, Stevie. Gotta clean us up and then we can go straight to bed.” 

He groaned in protest but leaned up enough so that you could slip from behind him, legs tingling when you stood on them, hobbling to the bathroom on shaky legs and flipping Steve off when you heard him chuckle from behind you. 

“Oh fuck off, Harrington.” 

          ******************************************

When Steve wakes up the next morning it’s slow and sweet, eyes blinking open and a small smile on his lips when he feels you pressed into his side. 

He looks down and tries not to laugh at your mouth hanging open, a little bit of drool on his chest from where your cheek is squished against his skin. Your hair is sticking up in every direction and he can feel your breath on him. It makes his heart grow in his chest, an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment washing over him as he stares down at you. He could get used to this, you attached to his hip and waking up to you in his bed. 

Thinking back to when you barely gave him the time of day, he smiles at your relationship now. How you’re just as needy as him, tugging on his belt loop to pull him to you if he’s not close enough for your liking, pulling his hand to your thigh in his car if he doesn’t do it first. He’s seen you use your foot to pull his chair closer to yours at work countless times, a little smile on his mouth every time. 

There’s a part of him that doesn’t know how he got so lucky. He feels that way all the time but especially when you laugh louder than you mean to, hand coming up to cover your mouth with a bashful smile. He feels it when you're humming along to a song you’d heard on the radio, head moving side to side and hips swaying to the beat in your head. He feels it when you randomly bring his hand up to your mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm and to his fingertips. 

He feels it all the time, really. 

And he loves when you're mean to him, when you tease him about staring at you too long or for getting all bashful when you do something normal like tuck your hair behind your ear or scrunch your nose. He loves that you turn him into mush. 

“Stop staring, you creep.” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice your eyes opening or how’d you had scooted closer to him, one leg coming up to tangle with his, wrapped together tightly. 

“That’s rich coming from you considering I’m gonna have to clean your drool off me.” You gasped, sitting up straight and smacking at this chest, appalled at the notion that you would ever—could ever—drool on him in your sleep. 

“Keep it up, Steve. Remember what happened the last time you pissed me off?”

As if he’d ever forget. Unfortunately for you, the idea of repeating last night, or anything like it, was hardly going to deter him from pressing your buttons in the way that only he knew how to do. Reaching out he tugged you back down to him, tucking you back into his side and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” 

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Simon grinned at himself through the mirror like a stupid teenager in the changing room as Price, god bless this man and his father figure behavior, tugged on his tie to keep it straight and clean.

Wedding Day had come. His wedding day had come.

“Mate, you must be shakin’ with excitement to marry the pretty face.” Gaz grinned from his spot on the couch, all three of them dressed in their best attire. Even Soap hadn’t complained once about wearing a tie.

Simon’s mind wandered to you in the other room, he hadn’t seen you since last night, tradition, that’s what they called it.

He hoped you were having a blast, because you had to spend so many days and nights over the wedding plans that he had to get you to the hospital once after you broke down from exhaustion.

“Anyone ever thought big bad ol’ Ghost gets married?” Soap teased as he rummaged through the drawers at the desk. What exactly was he searching? Simon didn’t know or maybe he was too happy to question his best friend’s motives for now, they usually end in chaos and today was meant no chaos.

“I always believed Simon would find the one true love one day.” Price nodded and patted Simon’s chest, telling him he was done with the tie.

“Liar.” Gaz laughed and shook his head. “If you want to know who always believed in you, Lieutenant, that’s me. Ol’ Captain and MacTavish over here said you would die a virgin. We got a bet running for a while.”

Simon wasn’t even surprised or mad, maybe tomorrow, or the week after. But tonight he wanted to be on Cloud Nine and looking through the pink tinted glasses of love. Tonight he would say ‘yes’ to the person he loved the most, the one that kept him alive and sane and put up with his antics.

“I’m getting married.” He smiled at himself in the mirror.

“You’re getting married, son.” Price looked at him, through the mirror, a proud smile hidden under the beard.

A minute later his phone rang, your name and picture on the screen.

“Yes? Everything alright, darling?” Simon asked and looked at Price, worry flashing behind his brown eyes.

“I’m scared, Simon. I… I know this will sound crazy and you probably think I’m mad. But… I wanna run away.” You say, followed by a shaky breath. “But at the same time I don’t wanna run away but stay and marry you. Does it make sense?”

Simon relaxed immediately, you were nervous, as you should be. Just like him.

“How about this then, darling, we run away together until you know what you want.” He grinned and picked up his suit jacket.

Soap and Gaz were gasping at him.

“Let’s run away together and if you still feel like running, we blew off this party. And if not, we come back, say yes to each other tonight and live our happily ever after.”

Gaz asked if he was insane. Soap was looking between Simon and Price, who simply had the time of his life while opening the door for Simon to leave.

“Are you sure… do you… I mean…?” You started to ramble and mutter under your breath.

“Darling… For you I would go through hell and back. I am not complete without you anymore. There was a time before you, sure. But there will be no time after you. Together.” Simon spoke gently and could see through the phone who your cheeks turned pink and tears pricked your eyes. “I’ll be out in two minutes, don’t let me wait.”

(Spoiler, in the end Simon and you got married surrounded by friends and family. Price lost a bet to Laswell because they both know you two and knew you would pull such a stunt. Soap had gained a few more grey hairs than necessary and Gaz was pretty sure this was some kind of punishment, why else would you two pull something like that.)

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

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Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

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