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chestharrington · 6 months ago

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

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel a little better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he thought about something else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

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

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it.

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

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

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bye, Steve.”

He wondered why that sounded so familiar.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

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

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

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

It took all your willpower not to react.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, you’re killing me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no.”

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

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #okayyyy enjoy :)

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glossysoap · 7 months ago

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oh glossy.. this thought must be shared. and i'm sharing it with you.

so, i was on twitter and seen this porn thing, where a man uses a body fleshlight and hides it under blankets, and then the girl walks in, seeing the fleshlight and basically replaces the fleshlight with herself. yeah, here me out with pornstar johnny doing that. (i’m gripping my sheets as i think about this. girl. 🫣)

like, yes it’s cringy but because it’s trending - your director NEEDS to post something about this new trend. so, of course johnny; someone who you’ve seen on multiple sets before; volunteers as he hears your director complain about the lack of men that want to do it.

the scene is set where johnny and you are roommates. living in an apartment and johnny has pent up frustration and uses it on his new body fleshlight he bought with his well-earned money. but, the poor man’s been almost going at that thing all hours. so he needs a drink and some food. so he dresses back up with a fat raging hard-on and goes to the kitchen.

you; pool ol’ you. you walked in because you needed johnnys charger, wearing some booty starts and a very large t-shirt. you noticed the fleshlight and gasped, dropping your phone before scattering to pick it up. you call out because you and johnny both have bathrooms in your rooms. and he isn’t there.

in the scene, you and johnny have sexual tension and finally you have this time to replace the thing with yourself. you rip off your clothing and get settled, covering your legs with extra sheets and covering yourself, hips and above underneath the sheets. now you just wait.

few minutes pass and you hear a grunt, a click of the door, with a noise that sounds familiar to a lock clicking. johnny steps closer to your body, grabbing at your hips. “hm. plushy.” johnny thinks, maybe it’s from that break he took and returned with a fresh mind. but he plunges his fingers into your sticky cunt. grabbing at your waist and pushing your hips down. you bite the blanket to hold back a moan as johnny voices his thoughts out on the so called “doll”

“fuckin’ like tha’ ya’ dirty slag. no’ gonnae take pity on ye’.” he says as he spits at your cunt and your eyes roll back. you think to yourself, fuck! he’s good at this. you’ve mostly had to take your orgasm’s because well.. men weren’t the best at giving you pleasure. you tried hard to stay on script but fuck his fingers plotting into you from behind is fucking fantastic.

your head begins to shake before you squirted in his fingers. not meaning to but his rough fat fingers felt too good for your poor pussy :( “wha’ the fuck!?” he exclaims and undos the sheets and you turn your whole body around, gulping the spit that gathered in your mouth. “j-john! hey, yeah - sorry.. may - may have gotten distracted.” you smile at him with pleading eyes and he shakes his head with furrowed brows.

“y’kno’.” he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to his throbbing dick that’s still in his sticky and sweaty boxers. “maybe ye’ shoul’ be my lil’ toy from now on.” he grabs your thighs and pushed them close to your chest and goes down on you, quick and ruthless. you whine and whimper, your still trying to come down from the feeling of squirting on his fingers and he wants another one from you.

“fuckin’ addictin’ this pussy is.” he grumbles, and you lock your thighs around his head, orgasm coming quick. before you could even say anything, your whimpers and moans gained a higher pitch and you came, once again, all over his face. he lapped up your juices and your clit. sucking hard on your clit when he comes up.

the both of you breath in and out heavily. “gonnae take my cock now like a good slag, aye?” and you nod your head, wanting his thick cock in your cunt.

he grabs his boxers and pull them enough down to reveal his cock and balls and you shamelessly stare. his full balls from not being able to come in that doll, saving it all up for you, throbbing tip that has globs of pre rolling down his shaft. fucking thick he is. your not sure if you can take all that but he just rubs your sides that isn’t visible to the camera, most likely trying to comfort you with his actions as he isn’t able to with his words.

you spread you thighs a bit wider. looking at him with a little worried expression but he just kisses your forehead. grabbing his cock and pushing his tip into your entrance and you groan. a ‘pop’ like sound being heard before your moan. “shh - shh. can take it bonnie lass. ye’ can, just gotta stretch that pretty thang out.”

and fuck it feels good. too good for a cock. stretches you right and hits that good spot when he finally halts. the base of his cock inside you completely. and when the camera is zoomed in you nod at him, indicating to move and he does. fat dick just moving in and out as he groans loudly while you whine his name and whimper out noises of pleasure.

all you know is that you blanked for who knows how long to be greeted with johnny rubbing your back and humming to you. fuck that was some good dick.

(i didn’t know how to end this. anyways, here glossy. you don’t need to add-on. just needs to be said.)

FANGS WHAT THE FUCKKKKK 😭😭😭 don’t worry at all about the concept being cringe (to be cringe is to be free)! IT. IS. SO. HOT. idk what it is about this ask but the insp just FLEW right onto the paper (screen?) so thank you! i promise im working on your rudy ask 😭

18+ no minors or ageless bios!

(these thoughts can apply to you two being porn stars or just the scenario in general! either way 😁 also i accidentally wrote this with reader being already on her back instead of her stomach, im sorry 😭)

may i suggest that he buys a sex doll/body fleshlight that matches your description? ie, if you’re curvy he would buy one with thicker thighs that resemble yours.

that works even more in your favor when you’re pretending to be the doll, but the similarities aren’t lost on you - sure, it could be a coincidence but if the little moans of your name at night (ones you convinced yourself you were imagining) were anything to go by, he did it on purpose.

imagine yourself covering your mouth in excitement and anticipation when you hear him walk into the room, hearing him unbuckle his belt and kick off his pants. it was obvious he was pent up and desperate, ready to fuck his “doll” into the mattress like he’s done many times before.

you could hear your heart pound as you felt the mattress dip behind you. meanwhile, he’s got that wolfish grin painted on his lips as he pulls out his already throbbing cock from his boxers. he gives it a few slow, dry strokes before finally groping the “dolls” thighs and groaning in approval at their softness and plushness.

“mmm, so soft and sweet.” just like you, he thought.

meanwhile, your breath was hitching as you felt him grope and squeeze at your thighs without abandon - inching his way up to your already dripping cunt. you were just throbbing. so fucking desperate for your roommate to touch you.

he didn’t waste any time violating his “dolls” cunt, only spending a few seconds tracing your wet slit before easing two thick fingers in. you could hear him hum in approval at how easy his fingers slid in, all while you were busy biting the fabric of the blanket. you could also hear how wet you were from the obscene sounds his fingers were making with your juices.

he didn’t go gentle or quick with his fingers. why would he? he was just using a “doll” after all, right? no need to worry about overstimulating or anything.

“y’ feel so fuckin’ warm. so soft.”

he took his sweet time feeling along your warm walls, and he even curled his fingers in search of that special spot — even though his doll wouldn’t have any g-spot. (that’s what he thought, at least.)

“what a fuckin’ tease. walk-in’ around with some dumb lads while i’m in here, ready to fuck ye’ like ye’ need.” he spits on your mound, watching his saliva trickle down to your soaking wet folds. you gasp against the fabric at both his words, all dark and husky, and the feeling of his spit trickling down to your cunt. you’ve never gotten this close to cumming in such a short amount of time.

he slipped a third finger in, scissoring his fingers inside your cunt while he plunges them in and out - stretching you open for his cock. he uses the rough pad of his thumb to rub at your swollen clit while he finger fucks you.

he just kept doing it, curling and curling while plunging in and out. little did he know, he had found that spot just like he wanted. and he was abusing it. as if somewhere deep in his subconscious, he knew it was really you under the covers and he knew that was your g-spot.

under the blankets, you were gasping and biting the blanket until your jaw hurt. you were so fucking close. all you needed was a few more pulses against your g-spot and his thumb rubbing on your clit to push you over.

which is exactly what he did, growling out a, “c’mon. c’mon.”

at that moment, you absolutely gushed all over his fingers and palm. your legs and hips twitched as your orgasm rocked through you. you couldn’t help it as you let out a broken mewl from under his sheets.

your mouth was still open mid-moan as he exclaimed, “wha’ the fuck?!” and yanked back the blankets that were covering you. his eyes widened as he saw you naked under the covers, where his doll usually lay. his eyes can’t help it, he looks at your gorgeous tits and plush stomach and your beautiful face. all things he had fantasized about countless times.

“johnny! this- this isn’t what it—,” you pathetically attempt, growing increasingly embarrassed as you see his eyes darken (with anger or disgust, you assume). his big broad form was keeping your thighs pried apart so you couldn’t hide your wet cunt, making it so you tried to cover yourself with the blanket.

he wouldn’t have any of it, though.

“no, no, no. none o’ that. up ye’ get.” he all but growls out as he yanks all of the covers off of you, revealing your naked form once more. he ignores your yelp as he grabs you under your shoulders to pull you from the bed. he’s manhandling you at this point, his arms moving to wrap around your mid section and pulling you to straddle his lap. you gasp as you feel his cock against your thigh.

“i think,” he grounds out, feeling you grasping at his broad shoulders to steady yourself. “i think i should get my fill from the original from now on.”

he barely waits for any response from you before he’s reaching under you and guiding his cock inside your dripping cunt. he watches your face as he eases his length inside, his girth so thick that you felt that slight burn of stretch. he watched as your mouth hung open in a moan, your brows knitting together.

“mmm, look at tha’. big stretch for such a tight cunt.” his words only made you moan even more, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine.

“so fuck-,” you whine, voice cracking, “so fucking full.”

“yeah? s’ tha good? hmm?” he crooned mockingly, giving a cruel thrust up into you just to hear you cry out and make you clutch onto him.

“that’s it, hold onto me. i’ll take care of ye’.” he murmurs into your ear, hands coming down to your ass to make you grind onto his cock.

“s’ tha’ what ye’ needed? someone to fill ye’ up? empty yer brain?” you could only nod over and over, eyes glossing over.

“well, ye’ know who you’ll be coming to for tha’ don’t ye’?” he whispers, feeling you tighten around his cock.

skin slapped against skin as he set a steady rhythm of fucking up into you, hips thrusting into your warm wet cunt. you were already sensitive from cumming only a few minutes prior, so it didn’t take much for him to push you to the edge again. especially with his girth stretching you out so fucking perfectly, and the head of his cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust.

all it took for you to cream all over his cock was his thumb rubbing roughly at your clit again, abusing that sensitive bud, and him mouthing at the crook of your neck before biting down hard.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#mw2 x reader #modern warfare soap #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #soap call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod smut #soap smut #soap x reader #soap x you #soap mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #soap squad #soap squad™️

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thepixelelf · 2 years ago

Text

Oh Baby, You - svt smau

The birth of your son three years ago was what caused your breakup with Wonwoo, your longtime (and at that point, long distance) partner. Now, you're getting concerned that Orion is starting to look a lot like his dad, but that's not your only problem. Wonwoo is back… and he's living across the hall.

Genres: smau, romance, drama, comedy, angst, single parent au

Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab they/she reader x mystery member(s)

Warnings: coarse language, conversations about sex, mentions of pregnancy, mama/mom/mother is used to refer to reader's parental status sometimes, infidelity, light alcoholism, miscommunication as a plot device, some of the teenies are not so nice at times, slut shaming, angst, everything is unrealistically dramatic because this is basically a kdrama in text/twitter form. warnings may be updated as they come, but I will label chapters properly if it's anything major

Note: unfortunately, I did have to make the mc for this series have female reproductive organs because, well... that's the plot. I couldn't find a good way around it :( if anyone reading this is discouraged, please know that pretty much every other fic I've ever posted is gender neutral. So, if you think you might've liked this smau, please check out my masterlist! hopefully there will be something you like there :) ALSO! if anyone makes fun of Orion's name just know that it's the name of a precious baby cousin of mine and if you bully smau Orion you are bullying irl Orion!! do not touch him!!!

(new!) Updates will post when I have the time and motivation

The taglist is full! Leave a comment under the post linked here if you're not on the main taglist to be notified when Oh Baby, You is completed.

Profiles I: Orion's Prettyboy(gn) Posse

Profiles II: Wonwoo's Famous Friend and the Other Guys

Profiles III: Gyu and the Rise of Capitalism

1. Everybody Loves Vernon

2. Tens Among Tens

3. Grown Ass Men

4. I Hate This FUcking Family

5. The Ones Keeping Secrets

6. A LITTLE Curious

7. You Go Girl Get His Ass

8. The Calm

9. The Storm

10. It's Been a While

11. Fucked Up Coincidences

12. Not... a BAD Guy

13. Still So Affected

14. Just My Type

15. Nothing to Hide

16. Fists Up

17. Act Natural

18. Girl, They Blocked You

19. Plot Relevance

20. Actually it is a Date

21. It's All Pretty Confusing

22. Scripted

23. All it Takes is a Smile

24. Yoon Jeonghan is Watching

25. Completely Surrounded

26. No Such Thing

27. What Does That Mean

28. A Name I've Heard Recently

29. Can't Risk It

30. Errand Day

31. One Day at a Time

32. Confrontation

33. Not Looking to be a Parent Any Time Soon

34. What if I

35. For This Little Guy

36. Get Blocked

37. I'll Take Care of You

38. Messed Up, Stupid, and Jaded

39. You Fucked Up

40. That's For You to Figure Out

41. Need to Try Something

42. Recovery Mission?

43. Your Everything

44. You're Cute When You're Like This

45. Not Sponsored

46. This is Nothing

47. Promise? Promise

48. Hhrk

49. A Busy Afternoon

50. Cherry

51. Don't Freak Out

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52. Bad Guys

53. Everything is Fine

OBY Ask the Characters Game

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akanemnon · 1 month ago

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HAAAAAAAY AKANE :3

How are you?? (Gosh, more ppl should ask you that, you're a human afterall)

On the 1st is my bday :3

BUT

I got a silly gift for you :3

You're even invited to my bday

You'll get a piece of (digital TwT) cake :3

And a special message.

I don't care if you won't see that post.

I just want you to know :3

PLUS GENUINE ASK (actually asking smt this time ha)

Would you rather:

Have no more chocolate for the rest of your life.

Spoil the entirety of Twin Runes/ The Other Script.

Chose wisely.

Okay and another question bcz you're good at writing (I guess, I mean you make some VERY GOOD comics)

How do you think I should traumatize someone that got possessed by someone that wants to kill her friends and bf? (I need a bit of ideas and I'm in need of an expert in writing)

Sorry, I can't be serious for five seconds.

In my defense your honor, I'm a silly goose. 🪿

Btw what's your opinion on Murder Drones?

I saw it two weeks ago and it got me hooked.

If you didn't watch it, I'm recommending it!!! :3

Sorry for the long ask.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

As for your question(s) 1) I'm actually not the biggest fan of chocolate (I prefer savory over sweet flavors). I still like it, but I'm not crazy about it. So I gottta go with no chocolate for the rest of my life. Sorry for everyone who wanted to be spoiled lol.

2) When it comes to writing drama and trauma, it's always a save bet to go for something that is a character's sore spot. Something that is already a part of the character itself. People always say I'm traumatizing these characters, though what I use for the story are plot and character details that were already established in some way in the games theselves (or through some other means). I'm not conjuring anything up out of thin air. As an example:

For Frisk I used their past attempted No Mercy Run (which is something you just can do in the game)

For Ralsei I used his fear of the Roaring and his need of the Player (as seen at the end of Chapter 2 and how he tries to guide the Player through Kris)

For Susie I used her past bullying antics against Kris (as seen in Noelle's blog post)

And well Chara... Chara is kind of self-explainatory at this point.

Kris' sore spot(s) are tackled ALL throughout the comic itself (the fear of being replaced, the fear of inadequacy, the fear of losing control...) It all ties into their relationship with the Player that you can already gather from the two Chapters we have.

3) I have not watched Murder Drones. Never really had the time for it.

#ask #ask akane #queued post

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zutarawasrobbed · 9 months ago

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ALTA Live Action Season 1 Initial Thoughts (Spoilers)

I just finished the season, and holy shit!

Quick things that need to be addressed/debunked:

“Sokka is no longer sexist”

I dont know what people were talking about when they talked about Sokka’s “sexism” being removed. It’s still there! But not in the overly exaggerated comical way it was in the original.

In fact, it’s more in line with ancient practices of indigenous tribes where men are seen as protectors and providers while women are expected to nurture. It’s not the same “boys are better than girls” narrative in the original.

Additionally, Suki still beats the fuck out of Sokka and humbled him really quick. They’re super cute by the way. And I love Suki’s “I like my men a little stupid” vibe. She’s great.

“Aang doesn’t run away like the original!”

That is not true. He does run away, but not because he’s trying to get away from the temple but instead to get some air because he feels overwhelmed. He’s more like taking a quick break and planning to come back. It’s not exactly the same, but almost. It also is done in a way where his guilt feels more justified.

“Katara doesn’t talk about her mom anymore like the original”

This is true… BECAUSE THEY SHOW INSTEAD OF TELL. I was honestly not prepared to see the death Kya in such graphic detail and how Katara was in the room hiding when it happened. It’s honestly really sad and more heartbreaking.

Plot:

The timeline seems to be ambiguous compared to the original series where it was “end of current year.” In fact, they repeat “three years” a few times, which makes me think if the series get greenlit for more seasons, it would be over a three year period.

Jet is still villainized but given more nuance and not a simple "good v bad" way like the original.

Zuko’s story about how he got his scar has additional lore that makes him come across as even more selfless and compassionate. The additional context of the platoon he advocated for in the war meeting, becoming his current crew, really added to the story.

Eradicated the nepotism baby plot point with Pakku only training Katara when he finds out he used to date her grandma. Instead, Katara proves herself and ends up teaching the other male fighters the techniques she learned from watching other benders use their elements and mimics them.

This season doesn’t have Aang learning any waterbending, but rather facing his trauma and the consequences of his actions. He get roasted by all his past lives. Which is an interesting choice, but I think it works well in how they executed it.

This season seems to actually be Katara focused and her journey of learning waterbending which I honestly loved because it really hits home the element of “water” being the story of an untrained waterbender learning her element. But, I do think Aang could’ve learned a little bending. It felt a little off.

Katara ends up advocating for all waterbending women and ends up leading an army of both men and women during the siege. She’s really bad ass and is given the title of master without being formally trained by Pakku. She made herself a master.

I think the timeline is a little wonky because of how much they had to fit in with the limited episodes they had.

Kuruk is given respect! I loved that.

June actually seems into Iroh which I thought was a funny but cool way to flip the script from the original.

The relationship between Zuko and Iroh is really beautifully executed. I love the depth they added with flashback scenes and their bond prior to the Agni Kai. It also wasn’t as frustrating watching Iroh and Zuko’s dynamic because Iroh communicated with Zuko in a way he could understand with straight answers rather than seeming to actively sabotage him with cryptic puns and shenanigans like the original.

They changed the love triangle with Yue Hahn and Sokka to be very healthy. They gave Yue autonomy and a choice in her relationship- which- again- is much more in line with indigenous cultures. Also, Hahn and Sokka’s relationship is really supportive and full of respect and no ill will.

They way they handled grief and the realities of war with the loss of life was very well done and really drove home the point that this is a war and these are child soldiers.

There’s a lot more but these are my initial thoughts. Will probably post more later.

Shipping:

Kataang is all but removed. Literally DOA. There is no indication of a crust on either side. It’s painted like a sibling relationship, which is like the original, but this time everyone seems to be on the same page. But, I swear the writers had to have read ZK fics because damn.

They canonized a popular Zutara theory/hc about the cave of two lovers and how the crystals would light up once it went completely dark instead of a “kiss” activating the crystal glow.

Speaking of the Cave of two lovers. They keep the Oma and Shu story with red and blue coloring. Making it come across more as foreshadowing than a direct link to the present tunnel story.

Sokka is put in Aang’s place with Katara in the tunnels and turned it into a story about the love of family and sibling bonds. Aang wasn’t even present.

Zuko and Katara share a meaningful look when they first see each other and continue to have a Katara centric scene followed by a Zuko centric scene and vice versa.

The scarf scene. I will not be elaborating further. If you know, you know.

Zuko and Katara fight scene in the North is epic. He still taunts her with almost the exact same dialogue but it’s so sassy- I love the banter.

Suki and Sokka were really cute and the actors had great chemistry. I think Yue and Sokka was really rushed and didn’t really feel anything about them, honestly. But I attribute that to lack of episodes to develop all that plot.

#zutara #katara #zuko #atla #atla live action spoilers

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jadeluz-official · 2 months ago

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Beetlejuice Beetlejuice review - Beetlebabes Galore

My rating: 8.7/10

As far as sequels go, this one pays great homage to the original. More spoiler review under the cut.

The Good

There's some great things about this film, BJ chasing Lydia down, Delores chasing Beej down, Wolf chasing everyone down, it kinda felt like a wacky hunger games. Of course there were problems with pacing, but it's just as gross and crude, if not more than the first movie.

The wedding. God the wedding is so bonkers and pretty. I wish it just went on for a little longer. I know MK was running low on time at that point but the visuals with the church are so pretty. The blue/green atmosphere is something else.

We get confirmation that Lydia is BJ's "love of his life" and fully intends to marry her again pretty early in the film. God Beej was such a loose canon in here and it was so fun to see him again. Every single scene he's trying to win her over, and Lydia's just not having it haha. This whole movie was such a shipfest and you can honestly leave the ending up to interpretation. I personally think they're married - they don't need rings. That scene where they end up in the bed was enough confirmation for me.

The parallel with Astrid and Jeremy floating and Beetlebabes floating was my favorite thing the whole movie. Jeremy lets Astrid fall and won't help her back up but Beetlejuice makes sure he has a firm hold on Lydia. There's something about manipulation and revenge with Beej/Delores & Rory/Lydia too. Beej is coming from a place of genuine, disgusting love. Everyone else is doing it for their own gain.

Wolf was also so fun to watch. He's a great addition to the BJ franchise as like a cop/criminal duo with him and BJ. I would've loved to see more of them interacting. Astrid's dad was also a total sweetheart. I wish he had just a little more time in the film.

The Bad

I will say, the ending was very dissatisfying for BJ. He had done everything asked again, and Lydia signed an actual contract for the marriage this time. He saved Astrid from the Afterlife and saved Lydia from a doomed marriage. But hey, at least we got a hand kiss and that's all I needed LMAO

Delores. Everything about her felt like an afterthought. We don't really see her much after she smashes Lydia's photo. She's made to be this huge threat and we don't really get to see it. There was a lot of missed potential drama with BJ and Lydia putting on the rings (which were cut, damn it all). I do like how they smashed Rory and Delores together with the sandworm though, girl was definitely thinking about going for him 😂

Astrid. She wasn't a bad character but she wasn't great. She was just very naive and I had a hard time liking her character. The Deetz are the opposite of naive, so it just felt off to me. And especially because Delia bites the bullet by venomous snake bites. It just felt like they were dumbed down just a tad too much. Lydia was the only one who kept a strong head the whole film.

The tone of the film vs the trailers. In the trailers, we see a very serious nature about the film. Whereas in film, there's so many plots going on in such a small timeframe, it's a little hard to take anything seriously. And speaking of cut, the editing crew makes a hard zoom onto the ring on the floor and never does anything with the shot. There's def some editing issues/plot issues that got cut or scrapped. We'll have to see when the official script releases.

So....

It's a mess. But it's a fun mess. The visuals are beautiful, the characters are fun. It's such a fun rollercoaster of emotions. I'd definitely go see it again.

#beetlebabes #beetlejuice #beetlelyds #beetlejuice x lydia #lydia x beetlejuice #beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice sequel #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice beetlejuice #review #film review #tim burton

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rupeenotruby · 4 months ago

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Of Courses I have Horses! [First Part] Next>>

I'm probably going to make it bigger next time to see how it looks so if you have problems with the current text size hopefully it will be better next time. Just trying things out right now. You know me, I can't be consistent for more than five seconds.

Yeah!! Here it is the start of "Of Courses I have Horses!" not a lot of horses this time around but this is just the set-up. I'm trying to do this four panel webtoon-type style like the webtoon "Super Secret" because I think I need to work on the comic art of brevity and combining actions into one panel. However, for the first joke to work I needed to cheat and add five. hehe. This comic is 100% a result of me telling my roommate that I was going to draw a bunch of horses this summer so don't expect much plot.

I will also probably be drafting the script to "Oh no, You Shouldn't Have" (which I need a better title for) as that one needs more of a script than this one.

This would also have come out way earlier but I have been plagued with headaches on my days off and I have way more homework now too :( Also I failed to realize how hard drawing a herd of horses would be! And how hard coloring would be! I'm also not super good at drawing horses but I'm also not very good a drawing people so at least they don't look out of place.

#linked universe #lu wild #lu twilight #comic #of courses i have horses

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tlbodine · 1 year ago

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Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

#writing tips #nanowrimo #writing advice #nano 2023 #writeblr #writing community #plotting vs pantsing #junebugging

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zweiginator · 4 months ago

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Older actor Patrick and a young promising actrees reader. You are the main stars in a next romantic movie, it's supposed to be a hit! This is the first time you meet Patrick, so afraid and nervous cause duh, he's such a big name!

You're immediately smitten by his dominant attitude, the way the people on set respect and listen to him, how he has the certain authority. You know this movie is basically a soft porn with a plot and you character need to be all touchy and in each other's faces.

Patrick is so close, so warm, so big and you are so shy and bashful, he finds it adorable. Between each take, he asks you if it's okay, if you've done this and that on screen already. When you say no, he sits you on his lap, strokes your hair gently and tries it all with you. You make out, right there, in front of the crew, but it's so normal to everyone because you obviously need to get used to one another for your scenes to be perfect.

And you want him so bad, god, you have such a crush on him! It's a dream come true, playing his partner in a movie, let alone such explictily themed one. Each night when you reread the script, in your hotel room or whatever place you are staying at, you get so wet just thinking about how good it's gonna feel while filming.

yes yes yes your mind!

you're so inexperienced in hollywood and maybe in hindsight this role was a lot for your first one--but you would have been an idiot to pass it up, especially with one of the industry's biggest stars as your costar. reading the script alone in your room already flusters you. the screenplay details how patrick will touch and caress you, run his hands down your bare back with you on top of him. how his lips will latch around your nipple. how he will fuck you.

of course, it's a movie. so he won't actually fuck you. but the movie is a bit taboo, a film about an obsessed college student and the professor whose career she ruins by being a seductress.

you don't see yourself as seductive at all. and you wonder how this will work from the first day of filming, because patrick has everyone in the palm of his hands like putty. he's charming and charistmatic, has stern yet soft eyes that just make you want to do anything he asks of you.

when filming for the more intimate scenes begins, you're jittery and nervous. you're sat on patrick's lap in a small skirt at his character's desk. patrick is wearing fake glasses; they make him look sophisticated and authoritative. the sleeves of his crisp, white button-up are rolled up and your heart is beating out of your chest because you realize, after years of watching him on the silver screen--that he's real, and he's here, and he's so fucking handsome.

"are you okay?" patrick asks. his thumbs drum on your knees. they're wobbly and his hands are warm against your bare skin. you're embarrassed because you're so wet.

"yes, i just don't know if i can do this." you say it lowly, playing with the hem of your skirt.

"of course you can." he tilts your chin up. "you got the role, didn't you?"

he suggests practicing, without the cameras rolling. so you nod, and patrick doesn't waste time pulling you in. his glasses fog up and are pressed against his face as you kiss him back. his tongue ruts in between your lips like he's demanding to come in and you open your mouth to let him in. it's sloppy and it's carnal and it looks so real because it is. you're portraying a seductive girl in that moment because you are seducing him, and he's folding for you. the crew silently starts rolling. patrick's strong hands grip onto your thigh, hold up the back of your head as he licks you. his fingers inch higher and higher until they reach the cotton of your panties. it's perfect; you let out a soft mewl, your mouth falling open as patrick breathes heavily against your neck.

the crew cuts and congratulates you both on a great scene. and you hope to god that you can make patrick feel that good when it's time to film the sex scene. because you want to embody this role. you want him to be yours.

each night you rehearse your lines obsessively. pacing back and forth, you practice faces. how you'll contort your expression when patrick fucks you on camera. how you'll spread your legs for him, how you'll moan and breathe and ask for more, more, more.

you touch yourself thinking about it, remembering how his mouth felt and the one time you made him moan--when he felt your panties, soaked through with your arousal.

#ask #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #actor!patrick

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yourelliewillms · 4 months ago

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the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 2 wc: 3.1k

read the chapters here !!

you've managed to become closer with the guy you're interested in! this feels like a dream, everything feels like a dream but maybe this (or he) is too good to be true.

hiii omg this chapter is way longer than the first one but i had to do it, i'm sorry !!! anyways i hope you like it <3

based on the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all !!

friendly reminder that he/him pronouns are used for plot purposes !! so please imagine ellie when i use them. i'm not writing about a man, i'd rather die, honestly.

7 in the afternoon. ellie spent the entire day looking at the phone number written on her wrist, scared that the black ink may erase at any time. she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose planning a whole dialogue in her mind that she probably would forget the second she heard your voice, she didn't even know what she was supposed to say to you, the girl that was basically interested in her.

but she knew how excited you were about this, everytime she closed her eyes she could imagine the look on your face if she called you. she knew that you needed someone to share your interests with and she couldn't deny that having someone to talk to about music sounded like a good idea to her too. ellie'd been alone at school for almost a year now and even if you didn't know that the guy you were wishing to date was actually her, you were going to find out at some point and, if you didn't get mad at her, you two could be really good friends, then ellie wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

the whole idea of finally getting to know someone running through ellie's mind while she stared at her phone and her fingers anxiously tapped the desk where her phone laid. she started to type your number on the screen of her phone. she breathed in, blinked quickly and cleared her throat when she pressed the 'call' button. she could already feel her heart pounding so hard threatening to get out of her chest at any second.

you walked in circles around your room with your phone in your hands. you could already feel your eyes drying for you couldn't even blink, you desperately stared at the screen waiting for that call.

but what if he didn't call you? what if he thought you were annoying and he was just being nice when he lent you that album? all kind of negative thoughts ran through your mind. just the idea of being rejected broke your heart into pieces and you could feel that knot in your stomach.

or maybe a worst scenario was that he actually called you. what would you say? would he expect an opinion about the album? would he want to talk to you or would he prefer a shorter conversation?

you fidget with your fingers and bit your nails from time to time as you too planned a whole script in case you had to carry a whole conversation with your crush. you wanted to impress him, show him that you could be as cool as he was.

bzzt

the sound of your phone took you out of your trance and you froze for a second. an unknown number, but you know very well who was calling you. your face lighted up and you immediately picked up the call.

maybe it was because of your excitement that you couldn't help screaming at the phone awkwardly "i loved the album!" you immediately frowned and closed your eyes regretting your whole existence. the cringe was physically hurting you and the seconds you had to wait for his answer felt like an eternity.

"hi to you too," you heard his raspy voice followed by a chuckle that warmed your heart in a second "i'm glad you liked it, it's became one of my favorites."

you started to play with a string of your hair. "i know, i liked it very mussh!" once again you'd embarrassed yourself, it felt like you couldn't stop shouting and screwing things up. just when you thought nothing could make this moment even worse, you heard the loud voice of your mother coming from the kitchen.

a shout of your name followed by a "dinner's ready!" you closed your eyes and sighed hoping that some god had heard your prayers, had mercy of you and avoided that your crush listened to your mom calling you.

but that was asking too much and you could hear a soft laugh coming from your phone. just when you were already feeling the drops of sweat on your forehead reminding you that embarrassing moment, that husky voice blessed your ears one more time. this time it sounded like a whisper, one that warmed your ear and it almost felt as if he were only inches away from you. he called your name and you stopped dead.

"tell your mom i say hi." you hummed trying to hide the panic and the butterflies that only one sentence caused inside you. all the fear you felt seconds ago was replaced by pure ecstasy.

you two talked for a few more minutes and ended the call. ellie felt on her knees and buried her face in her hands. the initial plan was to talk to someone from school and make friends, but why was she unconsciously flirting with you? was it really unconsciously or she didn't want to admit that she was doing it on purpose?

"hey, did you do the homework for today? i didn't do it and i can't have more bad grades. i was wondering if you..."

the voice of one of your classmates called your attention. you sighed and rolled your eyes, you were ready to deny the request, but you frowned when you looked up and realized that the request wasn't for you.

you turned to your right and there it was, your classmate jesse talking to ellie. or rather than talking, he was disturbing her, interrupting her so much preciated tranquility.

"i didn't do it."

the response felt ice cold but she didn't seem annoyed, just nonchalant. you bit your lower lip in order to stop the laugh coming out of your mouth.

"really? but you look like a nerd..."

now the soft smile on your lips slowly faded and your teeth bit your lips so hard they were turning a dark red, the blood threatening to come out from the corner of your lips. you furrowed your eyebrows and scrunched your nose. the conversation was none of your business but you felt the sudden impulse to say something, you couldn't stay quiet and see how someone insulted your classmate.

"so you ask for help and then diss her?" your words came out like a bark "how childish." both of them were now looking at you in surprise. ellie's mouth half opened, the green orbes grew bigger than ever. she blinked a few times before fixing her glasses with her index finger while she cleared her throat.

you just watched jesse leave without saying a word but you could notice his embarrassment miles away. you smiled proudly as your eyes fell on ellie. she mouthed a 'thank you'. you nodded and couldn't help smiling.

only the sight of her felt familiar, had she always been like that? with that little sparkle in her eyes that tickled your stomach and in some way made you feel a connection with her, feeling as if something about her would be able to captivate you any time.

you stared at the notebook in front of you trying to make up your mind. maybe she was a nice person and this was a sign to talk to her, maybe it was the sign of the beginning of a good friendship.

you opened your eyes as soon as you heard the sound of your alarm. never in your life have you been happier about waking up at 8 in the morning on a saturday. you got up from your bed and appreciated the cute outfit laying on your bed, the one you'd carefully chosen the night before. spending hours on choosing the best clothes from your closet and doing your makeup to make you look stunning was worth it if it meant seeing your crush one more time.

you held in your hands the album he had lent you some days before and you couldn't hide the excitement that the butterflies inside your stomach caused. your left hand brushed your cheek and you felt the warmth of your skin almost burning.

you hadn't payed attention to the weather outside because what could go wrong? all the past days had been okay, why would this one be different?

before you cross the front door of your house, tough, your frizzy hair was already warning you something. the bright and warm sun that was beautifully shining the previous day was now all covered in heavy gray clouds that were taking with them the shiny colors of the flowers on the porch of your house.

it was just a 10 minutes walk from your house to the preciated record store but it took only 5 minutes for the pouring rain to start soaking your hair that had taken hours to get done.

but not a single thought of going back home crossed your mind, that was definitely not an option. nothing was going to stop you from having that desired love life you'd prayed for so much for so long. some rain wouldn't screw it up.

your path to the record store consisted of you running to get there faster taking little breaks under the trees that covered you from the rain. you inhaled and prepared yourself to start running again, it kept like that until you finally were only one block away from the place.

the light coming from inside the store gave you an immediate feeling of warmth. the characteristic music of the place was softer than the other days for the sound of the raindrops falling onto the floor was mostly the only thing you could hear.

you sprinted towards the door, the familiar ring of the bell welcoming you once again to your now well known record shop. your eyes scanned the room and stopped at the stunning figure you soon recognized.

it was the guy, your guy. it seemed like he'd also been outside because his hair and face, which was still covered with a mask, were adorned with tiny raindrops. he was drying his forehead with his shirt revealing his well toned abdomen, the small freckles highlighting his pale skin.

soon you felt the warmth quickly coming back to your body almost rushing. your uncolored cheeks now growing crimson while you clenched your teeth afraid that your jaw would fall to the floor if you stared too much.

it didn't take too long for him to notice your presence. he turned around to look at you with those hypnotizing emerald eyes, you could notice the concernment in his eyes as soon as they fell on you. he quickly grabbed the gray hoodie laying on the counter.

"hey, you might catch a cold."

his raspy yet soft voice blessing your ears and before you realized it, he handed you his hoodie.

"you can wear this."

this was the moment you coul swear that that was not rain at all, that was holy water. the day you thought was ruined had became a day you'd remember your whole life. it took you a minute to go back to reality and confirm that this scene was not a product of your imagination.

"oh, thanks." you couldn't hide the sweet smile on your face and you could tell that he was smiling too by the way his eyes looked at yours.

you put the gray hoodie on and all you could think about was the nice smell coming from the fabric, a mixture of a sweet yet woody perfume combined with his natural scent invaded your nostrils and was quick to make you head over heels.

meanwhile, ellie was sweating just by the thought of the possibility of her clothes smelling. but there's no chance that you could find this new fragrance other than pleasant.

after spending what felt like minutes but was actually more than an hour in the record store talking about the things that you had in common, which was not much more than music, but that was enough to make your heart flutter and giggle at his spontaneous jokes and at times sarcastic behavior.

minutes felt like seconds and you had the feeling that you two had something special. the natural conversations and casual jokes made everything feel right and, in some way, it made you think that all the scenarios you made up at midnight before falling asleep while you listened to a playlist you'd made specially for him, could become real. because you were like that, only a few days of seeing this guy and you'd already made a playlist for him with all your favorite songs in it.

"i wanted to share something with you." you hold your breath as you waited for a response.

"yeah? what is it?" you heard the curiosity in his voice.

"it's kinda stupid but i..." you doubted for a second before finishing your sentence "i made a playlist with my favorite songs, maybe you want to listen to it?" your fingers fidgeted with your rings.

his gasp was almost inaudible but loud enough to let you know that he was actually excited about this. "that's not stupid at all, that's awesome." the green eyes looked for yours "send it to me right now, please."

you immediately looked down at your phone in an attempt of hiding the sparkles in your eyes while you sent him the link of the playlist, little did you know that it would soon become that guy's, or ellie's, favorite playlist.

the feeling of your empty stomach reminded you that it was time to go back home and after chatting a bit more with your favorite employee of the record store, you waved and said goodbye to him with a sweet smile, his own eyes smiling at you too thanking your for your visit.

you'd always been fond of participating in every festival that your school organized. this time wouldn't be the exception, your mind was already full of ideas for the spring festival and just the thought of being in charge of it excited you. you'd already decided the music, decorations and organized the little shows that some of the students would make, everything carefully organized by yourself.

but your plans couldn't be as perfect in reality as in your mind, it was when you heard your professor's voice that you knew this was going to be harder than you thought.

"you'll work with jesse, he needs extra points." your jaw fell to the ground when the professor basically forced you to work with one of your classmates, one that you'd already had a little argument with. it wasn't like you hated him but you'd never worked with a boy before, let alone being close with one, with the exception of the guy from the record store, of course.

"i can't... i won't work with him alone, i-" you looked around your classroom with the hope of finding someone who could save you from this situation, someone who you knew would be helpful and would make the atmosphere less awkward.

your face lighted up when your eyes noticed the person next to you, a smirk placed on your face for you'd found the perfect one.

"i think ellie'd do great if she helped us with the organization too." you patted her shoulder. she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked into your eyes for an explanation "you can help us with the music. you have good taste after all, right?" your voice softened when you turned to her, your face expression almost begging for her to accept your offer.

"i- uhm..." she swallowed when she noticed you were watching expectant at her "i guess i could try?" her rising tone making it sound as a question rather than an affirmation. the familiar sweet smile on your face thanking her was everything she needed to confirm that she wouldn't regret this decision.

you spent some minutes thanking her after everyone left the classroom, this being one of the first times you had a conversation with her that lasted more than two words exchanged. it wasn't too deep though, some instructions about the organization of these festivals mixed with words of encouragement for her before she left the classroom.

the room all empty now, every sound you made echoed between the walls as you packed up your belongings and put on your backpack ready to leave too, but the shinning screen of the phone lying on the desk next to yours called your attention. you grabbed it in your hands and carefully examinated it. "it's ellie's phone" you thought.

you turned to look at the door expecting ellie to come back looking for it, but not a single soul seemed to be near there. your attention went back to the mobile. the unlocked screen with a song playing on it, a song you well knew, awoke your curiosity. you'd always hated people who snitched in other's phones but you couldn't help it, plus, there wouldn't be any damage in looking into someone's playlist.

a little grin placed on your face as you noticed the so much similar taste in music you two seem to have. what a coincidence that these were all your favorite songs!

your smile faded and turned into a frown as you read the tittle of every song, one after one. the cold sensation at the back of your neck hitting you when you reached the end on the playlist. all you favorite songs, all in one playlist, the playlist you'd made which only one person was able to listen to other than you. the phone fell from your shaky hands onto the desk, your breath getting faster with each thought running through your mind, the sudden realization hitting you like cold water.

the sound of the door opening took you out of your half-conscious state. "oh, you're still here." you couldn't even face her, now it all made sense "i forgot my phone." the voice you soon recognized making you shiver.

you took a deep breath before turning at her and faking your best smile as you handled ellie her phone "yeah, here." you tried to hide the shaky voice caused by the knot on your throat. "thanks, see you next week!" you watched as she left the classroom once again, then your hands fell on the desk in front of you as you tried to catch your breath and swallow the incontrollable feeling of crying.

these past few weeks, the days you spent talking to what you thought was a guy, was actually a girl? it was not only a girl, it was your classmate, ellie.

taglist: @ohnopoteito (and the editor 💋💋 thank u for your help you've won a crocheted gift 👏👏👏 parabéns) @bready101 @everegretseverything @idk-sam @jupitersversionn @seraphicsentences @fatbootymuncher @ilovetocas1 @blackandwhitewindows @nombreuxx @mooneylou

#ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie x you #the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie headcanons #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #the guy she was interested in wasn't a guy at all

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silentcryracha · 5 months ago

Text

❍ ‗ Spotlight (lee know) ‗ ❍

Pairing : Lee Know x f reader

Summary : An upcoming work event stresses you out of your mind. But someone's there to help you relieve some of that stress, and who would've thought that it would be that one annoying co-worker?

Genre/ Warnings : it's a light co-workers enemies to lovers thing, talk about stage fright, mention of anxiety and bad breakup, talk of being chated on, some insecurity (brief and not specific mention), smut with plot (ONLY 18+), protected sex (UNBELIEVABLE?), soft dom minho of you squint, the whole this is a bit angsty, ending is open (is it tho?)

Word count : 10k (oh brother)

A/n : Has it ever happened to you to be SOO pent up and stressed that you could punch a wall and cry at the same time? Yeah, exactly. How about we fuck instead! Lmao, enjoy

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It all started with that damned research plan. 'Why the fuck did I even agree to that?', that's pretty much the same question that's been going through your mind for the past week.

Your boss held a meeting some time ago and asked your unit to bring up some ideas for an upcoming convention that will be held a few hours from your city. Several major companies in your field would be presenting their own projects to some big names in the industry plus some extremely wealthy people, that actually put their money into good causes.

So you did what you had to, took a couple of days to research and came up with an idea. You knew it was a good concept, and that you were good at your job. You were pretty confident. However, you were part of a team. A small one, but still, you were not in charge of anything in reality.

Which is why you nearly had a heart attack when during the meeting your boss actually decided on the spot to create a whole concept based on your idea. With you in charge.

Panic flooded your mind as you tried to reason with him, going from 'I can't do it' to 'We're a team', literally anything to try and make him change his mind. Even downplaying yourself, for how much it hurt your ego. Just because you have great ideas doesn't mean you want to have the literal spotlight in a livestreamed work convention!

"This unit has been doing a good job for the past months, while still being experimental. I think you deserve it. But I need you to prove yourselves this time, too. So what do you say, y/n?"

And with that, he got you. Why lie. Not only because you desperately wanted to get ahead in the company, but also because you knew for a fact that the rest of the team wanted it as bad as you did.

Were you really going to be the villain and turn down such an occasion for everyone, just because of your own overthinking? So, in the end, as unsure as you were, you still accepted.

And you couldn't lie, the prospect of getting recognition and a better working position fueled your motivation. You would've still been sick 10 minutes before the event, you were sure. 'But that will come later', you tried to convince yourself.

Fast forward to two weeks later, that's how you found yourself stuck to the office computer at 8 pm. On a Friday night. In your twenties. All the documents, research, presentation, audio, script…literally everything was ready and finalized.

You were pretty sure that if you asked your co-workers to check it one more time...you would've had the whole computer thrown at you. So you did it yourself, of course. Again and again.

You were the one who would have had to go up on a stage and explain it all, weren't you? You were so worried that your stage fright would make you somehow forget it all and even managed to fuck up reading from the script.

The fourth, or maybe fifth, coffee of the day being the only thing keeping you going. Aside, maybe, from the adrenaline. You were tired, yes. You should be going home, checking that your suitcase was properly packed and your tickets ready for your morning flight. Yet your anxious and perfectionist mind just wouldn't let you relax.

"Aren't you going home?" a voice interrupted your flow of thoughts, making you roll your eyes. You didn't even have to look to recognize that voice.

"No. But you should." you responded, with annoyance in your voice.

Lee Minho. Your 'second in command', as per your boss words. You have never quite spoken, before the past two weeks. Which sounds incredibly unrealistic, being in the same small work unit and all, but it was true.

Your team was an efficient one, but definitely not a tight one. All seven of you were literally picked out from different bigger divisions in the company, some even from other office buildings.

Straight away you were told that your team was going to be an experiment. This was roughly ten months ago, which wasn't much, but for a bunch of people who were essentially stuck in a limbo, uncertain of where they'll end up the followung year, was more than enough.

Being honest, you weren't particularly eager to get close to any of them. Whether it was an off-vibe or just you being kinda closed off and shy, you weren't sure. Regardless, you kept work life and personal life well separated.

Lee Minho, for example, was someone who you could never quite read. You may not have been very social, but you were observant. You knew that he was good at his job, often getting extra meetings and praise from higher ups. He was also quite standoffish, kinda like you. You did see him a few times talking with some other people at the company's cafe. But you didn't know them.

Then, suddenly this presentation thing happened, and just like a bunch of new class mates, the team was forced to collaborate. And boy, did you learn to know him quickly.

Your guess that he was good at his job was correct, but he was also extremely cocky while doing it. Your boss put you in charge, and yet it seemed that his life mission was to contradict and question you in almost everything. And the most infuriating thing was that he had a point, each time.

You lowkey hated him, because he would just add fuel to the fire. More details on a topic, some script corrections, visual corrections to pictures and illustrations. He seemed to be wanting to do stuff his way. But so were you, so it was kind of a silent war between you two. During one of the earlier briefs, you even mentioned it to your boss, and he just said to compromise. Easier said than done for two stubborn, competitive, people.

"The janitor will come soon to kick you out." he insisted, as he took his long suede coat from the hanger.

"Then I'll tell him to give me a few more minutes." you replied, squeezing your eyes for a moment, desperately trying to moisten them a little after spending so many hours in front of the computer screen.

"You said that forty minutes ago. Everyone else has already left like, two hours ago." his voice didn't have any particular feeling to it, but the fact that he was so insistent made you snap.

"Listen, Minho" you started, turning your head back towards him, "Whatever this is, quit it. I don't need an assistant, nor someone to remind me of the office's rules and I certainly don't need your concern."

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes, an annoyed smirk on his sharp features as he crossed his arms and leaned back on the wall.

"And I'm not claiming to be any of those. Are you forgetting that you're the head of the team and it's your job to make a decent presentation for all of us, right" he responded, the scolding tone suddenly making you feel uncomfortably small. He was right, of course you knew it.

You stood up, the desk chair rolling slightly behind you.

"Of course I fucking know-" your venomous response was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the big glass window of the office.

You and Minho both turned your heads and saw the two janitors staring at you. The older man who knocked looked quite annoyed and like he didn't give a single fuck about intruding, but the younger one behind him had his eyebrows raised and looked to be hiding an amused smile, clearly enjoying the show.

"I'm sorry miss y/l/n, we can't wait any longer to close up the floor. It's the company rules." he said, absolutely not meaning the 'sorry' in the slightest. And you couldn't blame him, really. You wouldn't either.

So you took a deep breath, faked a polite smile and nodded.

"Yes, I understand. I'll just pack my stuff and be out in a couple of minutes. Promise." he just grumbled a 'sure' while the younger one behind him gave you a tight lipped smile in embarrassment, then walked off.

You side eyed Minho as you turned back to your station to pack up your stuff and turn off the computer. Making sure to send yourself a copy of the slide presentation and the speech script. Well, another copy of the previous five files, anyway. Can never be sure enough!

'Don't you dare say anything.' you warn.

'Wasn't going to.' he replied, 'That was embarrassing enough already' you picked up on the humor in his voice, but it didn't make you smile in the slightest. You just wanted to get rid of him and go home to stress yourself until tomorrow, in peace. Maybe with a drink or two.

You noticed him waiting for you, for some reason, but you decided to ignore him and walk out of the office without sparing him a glance. He quietly followed ad you approached the elevator, and then pushed the button for the first floor before you could.

You stood there in silence, annoyingly aware of his presence not even a meter behind you.

"Why do you hate me?" Minho spoke with a curious, yet careful tone. His question took you by surprise, and also embarrassed you a bit. Did you actually even hate him? That seemed like a strong word for whatever you had going on.

"I don't 'hate' you." you answered, making the word, "You're just extremely annoying." he snorted a laugh.

"Well, at least you're honest." the irony in voice didn't escape you, and you instantly felt... quite bad? Qauite honestly you didn't know how to reply, so you shut up instead.

The elevator doors finally opened at the first floor, which was already eerily quiet and dark. Except for two security people that waved both of you off as you exited the building.

"Well, y/n, get home safely. I'll see-" he started to talk while taking a step back, but you stopped him, gesturing with your hand.

"Wait, Minho" he stopped in his tracks, clearly surprised. Your eyes wandered on the street, watching the cars pass by, as you rubbed your clothed shoulder, both from the cold and the nervousness.

"I'm sorry. I don't actually have a personal problem with you. And even if I did, my behaviour was unprofessional and rude. So I apologize." you created a small puff of hot air as you talked.

"Y/n-" you interrupted him yet again, not on purpose, but you kept going, in hopes of finishing off that awkward interaction.

"Also, I'm not your boss or anything, but I wanted to tell you that you did a good job. And, while it does cost a small piece of my ego to admit it, you gave some very good inputs. So, thank you." you cleared your throat a bit, still not looking back at him, even though you could feel his gaze on you.

Minho bit back a smile, and was about to answer, thinking you were finished, but suddenly the mood shifted and your voice started to tremble. His smile dropping fast and a confused expression taking place as he listened.

"I'm not usually like this, I-I...' you bit your lip, trying to regain composure, 'It's been a shitty period lately and this was kind of the last straw you know? I fucking hate speaking in public, goddamn it." a bitter and shaky laugh left your lips, your eyes becoming shiny.

You must've been out of your mind, you thought. How did you go from being a bitch then opening up and crying in the span of ten minutes? With Lee Minho of all people?

You were just about to wrap the conversation up and start trying to catch a taxi, but the cherry colored- hair man suddenly started to walk closer. You finally looked up, mainly in confusion, and saw just the shadow of a smile and kind eyes.

"'It's fine, y/n." he paused, "How are you getting home?'

You sniffled, blinking a few times, "I'm gonna catch the first cab that passes from here, I don't live that far but I can't be bothered to walk in the dark right now." he nodded in acknowledgement.

"My car is parked about two minutes from here" he pointed behind you, "If you allow me I'd like to offer you a ride." you stood there for a second, trying to rationalize the fact that your co-worker with whom you had beef until five minutes ago was offering you a ride. So you relied on humor, to lighten up the situations.

"I don't know, are you going to kill me?" he widened his eyes for a second, genuinely looking panicked for a second. He started to wave his hands around awkwardly.

"No, woah-" he spoke, "If you don't feel safe-" your small laugh instantly relaxed him, as he lowered his arms back down and giving you a side eye in the process.

"I'm sorry. But you can't honestly blame me, with everything going on in the world." you justified yourself, starting to walk to the spot he pointed out, "Just so you know, my mom and best friend have my location. Just in case."

"Ah, ah, ah." he faked a laugh as he followed behind you. The light of a grey, seemingly spotless and quite expensive looking, car blinked a couple of times.

Minho opened the passenger seat for you, then circled the car back to the driver's side.

The car ride was pretty much silent, and a light but definitely present layer of awkwardness filled the air. He asked for your address, put it on the navigator, then didn't speak again.

You joked about his car looking expensive and he snorted a laugh, nodding. "It did take a couple of years and a promotion to pay off, yes."

Then silence..again.

Thankfully the car ride was quite short, as you anticipated. Only made a couple of minutes longer by the traffic of the people getting off work. Late, like you two, you imagined.

He pulled up in front of your building, parking the car to let you get off.

You truly had no idea what came over you, but nonetheless you blurted out "Do you wanna come up for a drink?"

Minho's mouth went slighly agape, as he was so obviously trying to suppress a smile. His cocky aura making it actually hard to understand if he was about to mock you or seemed pleased.

"Oh?" and that made it so much worse, making you scramble for a response.

"I mean- it's not even nine pm, and tomorrow it's gonna be the end of a jurney of hard work." you justified, "I'm still gonna celebrate by myself, by the way. I was just offering." the last sentence being almost muffled, which actually made it funnier for him. You looked kinda cute.

"You know what, boss number two," your head snapped at those words, along with him turning off the car engine, "I think I may use a drink. I wouldn't have any at my place, anyway." he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile as well. You both got out of the car, and walked to the building's entrance as he locked it witht he distance key.

"And what do you have waiting at home, if not a glass of wine at the end of the day?" you joked as you entered the building. You started to walk up a set of stairs, so he just followed, a few steps behind.

"Three cats?" the humor in his voice actually made you turn your head to read his expression.

"Really?" you smiled. He nodded prudly, still following behind you.

"Oh yes. My pride and joy, if you will." you laughed, finally stopping on the second floor, in front of a white door.

"Wouldn't have made you out to be a cat's man" You unlocked it, turning on the light as you invited the redhead inside. He politely took off his shoes by the entrance, following your example, and bowed his head.

"Well, you don't really know me, if we're being honest."

"True." you nodded, a bit embarassed, "Please, give me your coat. It's warm here, I promise." you smiled. He thanked you, handing you the item.

He looked around while you went in another room. The apartment was definitely a nice one, even if not the largest. It looked cozy and quite artsy, but tastefully so. Lots of CDs, a couple of paintings, a nice tv, a leather couch. The living room had a balcony with a city view, and was connected to an open space kitchen.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. On the couch, at the table. Wherever you want." you came back with a pair of black light tracksuit pants, a nice loose shirt with some graphic design on it, and your hair down.

Minho couldn't help but, casually, notice how good those pants made your ass look. But he cleared his throath and opted for a seat at the table, before his gaze lingered too long.

"Thanks", he sat down comfortably, curiously looking at the kitchen furniture, "You have a really nice place"

You smiled politely, giving him a nod.

"Thank you, Minho. I actually didn't move here too long ago. About five months-ish?", you explained, "Alright, let's get back to business. I have a few things." he tilted his head to listen.

"I have two types of my personal favorite, red wine. Then some whiskey that wasn't even gifted to me to begin with," your tone was slightly off as you said it, but he didn't ask.

"Then I have some tequila, gin and... champagne. Yeah, that's it." he chuckled.

"Well, comparing to mine's, that's a small but respectable collection." he joked, "I'll just have some of that italian wine, thanks" he smiled, amused. You laughed a bit.

"It's all small bottles. I only really drink wine. I also use it for cooking. The rest is for nights with girlfriends. Don't picture me as an alcholic, please" you both laughed at you scrambling to justify yourself.

"If you say so, yn" he teased.

"Oh, c'mon!"

You didn't really remeber exactly how you ended up from sharing a glass of wine and cheering to your incoming job presentation, to eating leftovers, then moving to the couch. But you got there.

The difference is that after getting a bit too giggly and a little lightheaded, you both agreed to switch to water. Yeah, that's probably when you also decided to put something in your stomachs.

After all, he would've had to drive back home. And both of you couldn't afford a hangover when you had such an important day ahead and a flight at eight am.

It was now around eleven pm as you sobered up, just hanging out on your cream colored couch.

"So that's how my friend from sixth floor found out boss is cheating. Big time." he concluded, making you rolle your eyes dramatically as you took a sip of water.

"Of course he's fucking cheating on his wife. Of course" he raised a finger, leaning a bit forward.

"It's not only that he's cheating. He's cheating with the chief editor and a bunch of other emplyees too. Lost fucking cause" your mouth opened in shock, gasping.

"Nasty man! I just hope it's a bunch of immoral people and nothing more serious it's going on, at this point." you shook your head as he nodded in agreement.

"I know right? Of course it's mainly hushed office rumors, but at least a couple of those have to be true. My friend's girlfriends says there's eye witnesses." you smirked slightly, humored.

"Scandal" he snorted a laugh at your comment as he ate a piece of cake. A strawberry and whippe cream cake your best friends got you when you got the job.

"What about you," his eyes moved back to you, "Do you have anyone? Aside from your three fur babies, of course." he smirked a bit as he chewed on his bite, taking a couple of seconds to try and read your expression.

"No, no one." he answered, "I was actually married for about a year. Then the stupidity wore off." your eyes actually widened in surprise at his words.

"You were married? For a year? What happened?" your questions were quick and probably quite nosy, so you backtracked, "I'm sorry. If- I mean, if you feel like sharing. Of course."

"It's fine", he shook his head lightly, he moved a bit on the couch to get comfortable, "It sounds crazy but it was years ago. We were eighteen, and stupid. We were together for like, six months, and since she was having trouble with her parents and needed a place to live, I guess that my stupid-in-love mind decided that getting married and renting an apartment was the right call." he explained, not with any particular intonation. Maybe some humor, actually.

"It was an extremely quick decision too. Proposed, one day later we were legally married. But then we quickly understood that marriage wouldn't solve her problems, so while I just questioned myself over and over and scrambled to find work, she went out and cheated."

"Oh my gosh!" you exclaimed, covering your mouth with your hand. He nodded, with an ironic expression.

"Yeah. I actually never found out how long that went on. Hopefully less than our marriage. That'd be embarassing." you instinctively reached out, placing your hand on his knee. You regretted it immediately as soon as your eyes met though, so you retracted it, brushing it off.

"I'm really sorry. That's shitty. I know how it feels." the bitterness in your voice finally made Minho place the small pieces you had intentionally scattered in the conversation that eventing, making him put it together.

"You got cheated on too?" you cleared your throat, sighing slightly.

"Not that I would've imagined the conversation going there tonight but, yes. That's- well that's why I'm living by myself now. You know how it is, messy breakup, lots of tears, and then you move on."

"I'm sorry.", his voice was soft and sincere, "How have you been holding up? You're certainly killing it on the job, though." he smiled at you.

"Even if it makes you nervous." he added. You gave him a small grateful smile, but couldn't help to get a bit sad.

"Thanks. You know, I do love being by myself. The relationship had become stale for a while. I kind of saw it coming. But of course, after two years, it stung." you admitted, "Wasn't particularly kind to my self esteem. Leaving him with my half of rent to pay while being jobless was kind of paybay, not gonna lie." you raised an eyebrow, making him laugh.

"Deserved, honestly." you laughed instinctively a bit too, but your mood was definitevely affected a t least a little now. Minho wanted to comfort you, telling you that he didn't see anything that you should be insecure about. But he stopped himself, feeling like he would've overstepped some boundaries.

"I'm sure you're doing great. Parties with girlfriends, a whole place by yourself, killing it at work. It's gonna be okay." that was the most he allowed himself to say, but judging from the grateful look in your eyes, that was probably enough.

You blinked a couple of times, awkwardly catching yourself getting voulnerable for the second time that evening with a man that until a few hours prior was just a bit less than a stranger.

As you thought that, you actually remembered to take a look at the clock on your wall and saw that it was half past midnight. You got up instantly, slightly startling Minho.

"Shit, look at the hour. I will probably not sleep for a good while, but it may be late for you. With the drive and all. I'm sorry I kept you blabbering for hours." you released a small, nervous laugh as you picked up both of your leftover cake plates.

He nodded slightly, mostly at himself, getting up.

"I don't have very regular sleeping schedules. My cats tell me when it's bed time." he joked, making you smile. "But I think you're right. I definitely sobered up now, don't worry."

You nodded, eyes struggling to stray from his brown, shiny ones. You cleared your throat, catching yourself before you could make things more awkward.

"I'll get your coat, wait a sec" he silently followed your figure as you disappeared again, then, just as you did, he tried to get a grip and walked towards the entrance where he had left his shoes.

He slipped them on, slapping himself slightly on the cheek to get some composure back. Just after that you came back, smoothing out his coat.

"Let me help you" you spoke softly, without really asking. He turned his back to you without speaking, offering you one arm, then the other. He then shrugged his shoulders a bit to fit the coat properly on.

"Thanks" you nodded, acknowledging him silently. You proceeded to open the door, and turn on the stairs light on for him. He turned back to look at you, now just a few steps outside of the apartment.

"Your cheeks turned red.", he teased, "Did you warm up well?"

"Yes" your tone was a bit more serious than his, wondering if his question hid a deeper meaning behind it. Maybe what he was really asking was if you warmed up to him, after all.

He looked down, nodding. He then smiled warmly, looking up back at you.

"Good. Thanks for the drink, it was fun", he stated sincerely, "Make sure to rest well, goodnight yn"

But, as he was about to leave, he felt your hand reaching for his sleeve. He stopped, turning back to look at your hand, then fixing his gaze on you. Your eyes were looking at him so intensely, almost burning into his. He didn't speak. He waited.

"Would it be extremely unprofessional if I asked my co-worker to stay over?" your words were teasing, but your tone as well as your gaze didn't match them. That's what made him hesitate at first.

"Are you sure?"

You retracted your hand, letting go of his sleeve. A hint of insecurity hitting you. But not towards your desire, more towards yourself. Imagine if he said no and rejcted you.

"You can say no" he fully turned to face you, walking closer.

"I didn't say 'no'. I asked if you are sure. Are you?" his tone wasn't harsh at all, but it was serious. It's true, he didn't say no. And you also weren't really sure why, but you were sure you wanted him. So, just in case...

"Yes, I am. We're both free, consenting adults. Doesn't have to mean anything. Letting go some stress, you know." you shrugged, leaning against the doorframe, crossing your arms. Acting way more cocky than you were actually feeling. Truth be told, you were so horny you would've probably crawled if he asked you to.

Minho squinted his eyes a bit, studying your expression. But he saw right though you. He didn't know the extent of your confidence at that moment, but he could see that you wanted him like he wanted you.

"Right" he finally spoke, slowly walking closer and closer, instinctively making you backtrack inside, your eyes fixiated in his as if you were hypnotised.

"Just de-stressing a bit, I guess" he pushed the door shut lightly with his foot before reaching for your cheek with one hand and your waist with the other. Taking the hint, you crashed your lips with his.

The kiss didn't start slow, it was right away a messy, passionate one. Minho shrugged out of his coat, never leaving your lips for as much as he could.

"Wait- the coat-" you panted softly, but he shut you up quickly, pulling your even closer by grabbing at your lower back.

"Fuck the coat" he managed to answer, making you laugh faintly. Your lips separated as you stepped back enough to lead him to the bedroom. During the small walk, there was a pause, and neither of you talked.

You reached the bedroom, and slowly as you stood at the edge of the king size bed, you started to undress each other.

Starting from his tie, which was alrady loosened, then his shirt buttons coming undone one by one, then his belt. Minho didn't really move, nor rush you. He just held you by the waist, following closely your hands.

Being so lost in admiring his perfectly soft but muscular body, you kind of forgot that you were still completely covered. Not that you were exactly looking forward to getting naked and vulnerable at that moment in your life, but it was kind of require, as they say.

You stopped just before getting to the zipper of his elegant pants, his boner already forming a tent. You looked up at him, kind of questioning his stillness. But he was already looking at you, eyes lusty but comforting at the same time.

"Do whatever you want." he stated, taking one of your hands and encouraging it towards his pants, "Consider it a personal congratulations gift. Guide me." he continued, then squinted his eyes a bit, getting closer with his face to yours with a small smile.

"Unless you'd like me to?" that one sentence did so much damage to the least bit of self respect you were clinging to...so might as well.

You nodded slowly, you chest going up and down heavily, trembling a bit from the mix of excitement and, well, a bit of shame. The kind that will bring you pleasure though.

And he saw it. Again he saw right through you. Not that in the horny state you were at that moment you would've had much to hide anyway.

Minho chuckled, leaning in right next to your ear, whispering "Good girl", his lips starting to kiss your neck seductively, "Take my pants off for me, mmh?"

A moan escaped your mouth as your hands worked shakily with his zipper, then pushing the fabric down, revealing the expensive brand boxers he was wearing. And the hard on. Couldn't forget about that.

"So good for me. I'm going to undress you too, now. That's okay, right, honey?" his hands toyed with the hem of your t-shirt, waiting for consent, which arrived very quickly after.

"Yes, please" he cooed at that, proceeding to lift up your shirt and get it off you, leaving you in your simple, cotton bra. You didn't exactly dress up expecting this, but well.

"'Please'? You're so cute" he praised, continuing his works by pushing down your tracksuit pants. At that point, as drunk on lust and praise as you were, your insecurity couldn't help but hit as you were becoming aware of Minho's gaze.

That's why when he felt your hands squeeze his sidez a bit and get tense, he stopped, leaning back to check on you.

"What's wrong?" you gulped, throat suddenly feeling a bit dry.

"Nothing, it's- ...Don't stare too much. I don't know if I can handle it." your words were just above a whisper, but it made him a bit sad. He wasn't pitying you, he just felt sorry that your head wasn't allowing you to be as free as you wanted.

He understood. Of course he did. Everyone at least once, at some point, felt insecure about themselves. And while he truly think you shouldn't be, he wouldn't push it. He'd just make sure to make you feel good in the moment, like you deserved.

He brushed it off, shifting the mood to a lighter one. He nodded as he went back to touch your body up and down, his lips back to your neck.

"Alright, but- " he paused, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, squeezing them, eliciting a sigh from you. "On the condition that you'll let me suck on these later" he smirked, winking at you. You blushed even more, huffing out a laugh. Your head was clear again, so you decided to have fun with it.

"But now-" you gave him a little push, making him land on the bed, then straddling him. "There are a few things I want." he smirked, amused.

"Seems like it's gonna be a little of a game after all." he teased making you smile seductively.

"We'll see. Now stay still like a good boy." Minho's hand on got even harder, if possible. at your words. He wasn't used to be a sub at all, but that 'good boy' kinda...intrigued him.

At that point you got off of him, kneeling down beside him. You pinched the hems of his tight boxers and pulled them down, letting his cock sprung free, standing up mid-air from his abs. You pushed the fabric down enough for Minho to discard it, which he did.

He was half up, standing on his elbows, to not miss the view. And what a view.

You had started to stroke his cock slowly, with both hands, doing a sort of up and down gesture mixed with some twisting, that was sending him directly to heaven. But he was way too turned on already, he was afraid that at the minimum touch he would cum, so he regrettably stopped you, and instead switched positions, dragging you under him as he hovered above you.

"I'm sorry, princess, I'm not gonna last if I let you play too much" he explained with a sigh.

"You though...let's see if my sweet girl is ready for me" he continued, with mischief in his voice. His hands invited you gently to part your legs, and you complied easily. Your need to be touched almost unbearable now.

Minho shimmied down on his stomach, directly face level with your, still clothed, pussy. He raised his index, teasing your mound then your slit, which was clearly indicated by the wet patch on the grey cotton panties. You hissed and squirmed, desperate for him to touch you properly.

"Oh wow, look at my sweet girl, looking so wet already." he cooed as he started to kiss the inner of your thigh. "Should we check properly, mh?" all he needed was a desperate yes from you, to quickly act and slip down your legs the panties, discarding them somewhere.

"Oh my godness...look at this sweet, shiny, pussy. So cute. Is it all for me?" he asked cutely. You moaned instinctively and nodded quickly.

"Yes, all for you. Please Minho, I need it" you whined, trying to rub your thighs together for some relief, but his hands promptly kept them open.

"Tsk, tsk, kitten. Now be good for me. I promise I'll give you what you want." and with that he started out giving a fat, tongue flat, lick from your ass, then your pussy, and reaching the clit. The deep moan that exited from you would've almost been embarassing, if only Minho's actions with his tongue didn't distract you again right away.

He had started to kiss right where your whole was messily, occasionally trying to poke in the tip of tongue to try and gather as much of your arousal as possible. You were a whining, moaning mess, but you knew exactly that as soon as he'd actually start giving attention to your clit, you were done for.

Which is exactly what happened a few minutes later. When he was satisfied enough that you were absolutely drenched all over, his mouth and chin included, he moved a bit north, starting right away to skillfully suck and toy with your clit.

The sensation was so intense and you were already so sensitive that the contact made you prop yourself up a bit, but Minho promptly placed one of his strong, veiny hands on your stomach and pushed you back down, which you allowed yourself to go right away. But his hand was still there, so you took the opportunity to intertwine your fingers with his.

"Fuck, oh my God- Minho, please...please" you were incoherent, but he knew very well what you wanted and he was determined to give it to you good. That's when you felt first his index, then index and pointer fingers enter you swiftly. No resistance at all. You were so wet that you barely felt them, until he started to move them just right, stimulating your walls.

The gradually added movements and speed of both his fingers in your cunt and his mouth on your clit had your stomach tightening so quickly, and then you came. You came for like a whole minute, and then some. It was actually crazy how intense and how prolonged minho had managed to make your orgasm. No doubt the best head you've ever recieved.

He gradually slowed down, until only his fingers remained to play with your slick as you came down from your crazy high. Minho had leaned his cheek against your warm, kids shaky, thigh while he watched you with a satisfied smirk.

"Are you okay, kitten? You have no idea how cute you sounded as you came on my mouth and fingers, purring and whining like a sweet kitten." you looked back at him with hazy eyes, as you made grabby hands. He chuckled and removed his fingers from your pussy, placing them immediately on his own cock, starting to stroke himself up and down.

You pulled him close, over you, pushing down on his shoulders with your arms. Your legs closing around his hips, immediately trying to grind on something.

He moaned in the kiss, "Such a horny baby that doesn't even need a minute after she just came" he teased you but you didn't cared, you whined and pulled him closer to keep the sloppy kiss going.

"Need you, mh- please, get- get 'nside 'o me" your words slurred but he understood you anyway. He parted from your lips, panting.

"Baby girl, w-", he swallowed trying to speak coherently, "You have protection?"

You nodded, pointing to the drawer of the nightstand. He moved a bit to reach into the drawer, fishing out a condom. But not before taking a peek at your cute, little, clit sucker toy.

He bit back a smile as he sat back on the heels of his feet to unwrap the condom and slide it carefully on his painfully hard dick.

"Usually it's rabbit toys" he teased, making you laugh faintly.

"I can't come with penetration only" you shrugged, which made your tits jiggle in your bra. Suddenly hypnotizing Minho, which had a promise to respect, he remebered.

He smirked, then properly got back between your legs, and just as you were about to pull him in for a kiss, he retracted with an eyebrow raised.

"First, this is gonna come off" his hands slid down the strips of the bra down your shoulders, then he reached behind your back to untie it completely. He sighed when finally he could throw the piece of fabric away, and enjoy the heavenly sight of your tits. Which, with his outmost disappointment, you rushed to cover with your hands.

"Hey, you promised!" he scolded you, "Plus, I already ate you out, what damage are a pair of tits gonna do now? None." he answered his own question, at which point you gave up and moved your hands back on his strong shoulders. He gasped, in awe.

"Ah, here they are..." he bent down, immediately attaching his mouth to one of the nipples, making you moan.

"So soft, round, so sweet..." he cooed as he grabbed them, squeezed them, kissed, licked and soft-bit them. Your hands were now intertwined in his cherry red hair.

"Minho, baby-" you both noticed how you slipped with the petname, but you brushed it off "Please, I need you. Need you inside me so bad, please.." he heard your plea and nodded, giving a break to your breasts just enough to position himself with your entrance, and then slowly but steadily he entered you.

It felt like one long stroke, until he filled you to the brim, his tip hitting the back of your walls, making you both moan. He stayed still for a couple of seconds, propping himself up with his forearms by the side of your head.

"Oh- hng, fuck. You feel s-so good. C-can I-?" you nodded frantically, moving your hips to meet his, making him hiss.

With that, he started moving, back and forth, at a normal speed, without ever exiting completely, instead focusing on stroking your g spot each and every time, driving you absolutely insane.

"Ah, fuck M-min...please go faster, please, please" he whispered praises and reassurance in your ear as he complied, his hips starting to go faster and faster. He kept going until he started to feel you tense up, and you croaked out "M close..s-so close, please"

At that point he moved his dominant hand from your side and slipped it between your bodies, circling your clit with two fingers to help you get there.

You gasped at his action, tightening the grip your thighs had on his hips a bit and arching your back, feeling your orgasm so, so close.

And it only took a couple more strokes for you to cum.

"Ah! Fuck, I'm- I'm coming, Minho", while your orgasm was happening, he felt your walls tighten around him, which made him frown in fatigue. "I- I know, sweet, come for me" he managed to say as he was still punding into you, but his pace was faltering.

This time it was your turn to help him get there, so you grinded on him, helping movement and friction, while also tugging a bit at his hair, which you noticed he seemed to like. And as expected, he groaned, then moaned, finally stilling as he came inside the condom.

His arms were trembling a bit, and he looked absolutely fucked, so you just pulled him to lay on your chest and rest. His head on your breasts. Both trying to calm down your breaths.

You were in silence for a little while, but then Minho pulled himself up and carefully got up from the bed, going straight to the private bathroom in the bedroom.

It kind of hit you at that moment, that this was not normality. This was a one night stand with a co-worker. So you also got up, quickly picking up your discarded clothes. Putting Minho's on the edge of the bed, while you exited the bedroom to go wash up in the other bathroom.

It didn't take long, as you decided that you would've taken a full proper shower tomorrow before leaving. Right. The flight. The speech. It all came back hitting you with a force, hitting you back with reality.

But reality was still in your bedroom, too. So you dressed back up, freshened up and quickly went back.

Minho was in his boxers, busy buttoning up his work shirt. His gaze landed on you as you appread on the doorstep. He gave a quick smile, then looked back down. And your heart kind of broke at that.

Was he also embarassed, or did he regret it already? And what were you feeling?

Everything was contradicting in your head right now, so you recomposed yourself enough to think clearly. It was now two am in the morning.

"Please, spend the night here. Then you can drive home tomorrow morning. It's so late now, I'm sure you're tired." it sounded so fake, so foreign to go back to being polite while just ten minutes prior you were tangled up in bed horny like animals.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be on the couch." he said as he also slipped his pants back on. You looked at him confused.

"The couch? But, the bed is big enough-" he interrupted you, picking up his tie.

"The couch will be fine. I just-", he sighed, "I need this, okay?" he pleaded silently. So you just nodded, keeping your head down.

"Please take anything you need. Good night, Minho" you spoke softly. He just breathed a "yeah" then closed behind him the door to your bedroom.

That night you didn't hear a single sound coming from the living room. It was just you, your overthinking, and the uncomfortable knowledge that a person that you have very quickly come to care about is sleeping seprately from you. On the couch.

You got him. You were confused too. But it still heavied on your heart. Until finally, you fell asleep from exhaustion without realizing it.

The morning after you woke up startled by your alarm. You checked the hour: six thirty am. Yeah, you definitely needed to get up. Those five more minutes will have to wait another time.

Then it hit you. You remebered what happened the night before. You remebered it all, perfectly.

The way you asked Minho not to go. The way he made you feel so good, both physically and mentally, for the first time in a while. Then you remembered how cold things ended up, too.

You got out of bed quickly, praying that he was still here, to at least make sure that everything was okay with you two.

But as you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the corridor, into the open space living room, no one was there.

The only thing out of place was the, usually discarded carelessly, now neatly folded blanket on the couch.

For some reason you felt like crying. What was wrong with you!

It was you, after all, that asked him to have sex and reassured that it wouldn't have meant anything. "Just stress relief", you said. He agreed. You both consented. You didn't regret it. So why did your stomach hurt?

At seven thirty pm sharp you were already on a taxi on your way to the airport.

You showered, got presentable enough, checked to have all your files, then picked up your small suitcase and you were ready to go. You would've had all the time to get 'professionally' ready when you got to the hotel. Which was also the place where the convention was gonna be held at, so even less stress.

When you arrived at the pre-established entrance number of the airport, you saw the team standing outside, chatting and some smoking.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to act like everything was normal. But nothing was normal about you getting on a stage to talk live in front of million dollar companies. And nothing has been normal for you after the night before.

As soon as the team saw you walking over, they started to cheer and shout out embarassing stuff to tease you. You laughed, but gestured for them to shut up.

Everyone picked up their cases to fo inside, and that's when you noticed Minho. Of course he was there. It was his job, too. But while you were instantly named 'leader', mainly because of a joke and the other's laziness, he remained at the back, minding his business. So you did the same, for now.

Once you got through all documents, tickets and baggage checks, you entered the waiting area at your assigned gate and could relax for a while before they started calling in passengers. You and the team did not go first, but almost.

Your boss had been gracious enough to put you seven in business class, so you would be the second type of passengers to board the plane.

And with a rather quickly queue, that's exactly what you did. In less than an hour you were ready to take off. You had almost secretly hoped that your seatmate would be Minho, but of course it wasn't. It was an older co-worker, around his fifties. You made some small talk at first, but then you put on your headphones and focused on reharsing your speech and the slides.

The flight was on time, two hours later, you were back on land. You were kind of disappointed with youself, because at some point, Henry saying it was about half an hour in, you fell asleep.

But at the same time, you did have a very short and shit sleep last night so, better rest now than be sleepy later.

When you walked out at arrivals you saw a man in suit and tie holding up a sign with your company's name of it, so you approached him.

"Good morning, miss. Are you the seven people I have to take to this address?" he asked, showing you the paper. You nodded.

"Yep, it's us." you turned and gestured with your hand to follow you.

With some surprise, you found a mini van waiting outside, with nine seats including the driver's. Minho went on first, as far back as possible, and you went on last, next to the driver's seat.

The hotel wasn't that far, only fifteen minutes, so you got there pretty quickly. When you entered the reception, it was a bit crowded, of course with the amount of hosts that were there for the convention.

Yet again, you waited in line, then provided documents and the staff gave each of you a card key to your rooms. For organization purposes you were put all on the same floor, with rooms near to each other.

You just nodded in understanding and politely declined the invitation to have lunch out that some co-workers offere, opting to remain in your room, practice and maybe rest some more.

You didn't need distractions in that moment. But not everyone was on board with the plan, so you and another two people, oneof which was Lee Minho, went straight to the elevators.

You were grateful for Amanda, the senior of the team, that made small talk abou the appearence of the hotel. She was talking mostly to herself, even though she thought she was talking to you and Minho.

Thankfully in a couple of minutes, everyone went their separate ways and rooms. You sighed, relieved when you were finally alone again. This 'ignoring' situation was ridiculus, you were adults for fuck's sake. And yet neither of you approached the one for now, so you were both fools.

'This is getting fixed, tonight', you thought. The gala would've started at about seven pm, so hopefully by ten pm you were gonna be done. No matter what, you promised to yourself that you would've had a grown, mature conversation. But later.

Now you just preoccupied yourself with ordering lunch and, once again, going over your files. For the last time, thank god.

Five fifty pm. You were ready. Kind of.

Make up, done. Hair, done. Clothes, done. Papers, done. Purse? Ready. Your brain? Not ready.

You were honestly just trying not to sweat literal cold now and not cause yourself a stomach ache. Your only salvation at that point would've been distraction.

You remembered how fucking nervous you were at every single graduation in your life. High school, degree. Hell, even middle school. Being on the spotlight for anything always made you so extremely uncomfortable and sick.

It was only as you grew older that you understood that really, the only secret to get through this type of stuff is just fakin' it til you make it. No other way around it. If you deluded yourself into thinking that you had your shit together, so would others.

So that's when you decided to just go downstairs, a bit early just to hang out. Maybe have a drink or two. You weren't the only one who would've had to speak publicly that evening, so who knows, maybe you'd find your trauma twin.

You picked up your phone, purse, papers, then you were out of the door. Just as you almost made your way down the corridor, nearing the elevators, one of your heels got stuck on a bump in the moquette.

You gasped, saving yourself by planting your hands on the wall at your left for support. But that meant that now your papers and purse were on the ground. Messy. Great. Always better than a twisted ankle, you thought.

You bent down, trying to pick up the scattered papers in order, when you suddenly heard a voice.

"Everything okay?"

"Shit!", you clutched the paper to the chest, scared. You looked behind you, but aside from the scare, you recognized the voice immediately. Of course you did.

"Yes, just tripped. Thank you." Your tone was cool as you addressed Minho, going right back to stacking your stuff in your hands.

"Wait, let me help" without thinking, he joined you, starting to pick up the files as well. In perfect order, too. Of course your second in command would know the presentation by memory as well.

"I got it." You so much spared him a glance as you got back on your feet, snatching back the paper. He stood back up, too. Hands in his elegant pants pockets. Awkward.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice so casual and polite it actually made you mad. You crossed your arms, a little awkwardly as your hands were busy.

"Oh, so now you're talking to me?" Minho frowned. Mirroring your pose, closing off.

"What? You think it would've been appropriate to air out personal business while sitting in a car with five other people? Co-workers?" he snapped back.

"No one said anything about drinking and hooking up, a normal "good morning" would've been enough" you rolled your eyes.

"Well it's not like you attempted it either, yn"

"Ah, yes because I surely felt welcomed with open arms after you-"

"Hey guys! Wait for me!" You and Minho both turned your heads toward the young woman speeding up her walk. She was the youngest in the team. Niece of the boss, nonetheless.

You both took a step back from each other instinctively. You offered a fake smile and wave as the red haired man pushed the button for the elevators.

"Ah, thank you! It's a bit late, but at least I won't be showing up alone" she laughed. You widened your eyes, scrambling to fish the phone out of your purse.

"What do you mean 'it's late' !?" The clock showed six pm and five minutes. You frowned, but before you could speak, Minho did it for you.

"It's not late, stop panicking her. They opened the conference room at six. They're gonna start at six thirty. It's fine." the young girl seemed a bit intimidated by the stern tone used by the man, but the just shrugged.

"Oh well, I may have read the invitation wrong. Same thing." you took a deep sigh, taking a moment to calm not and not choke her on the spot.

"Better this way." you offered the same brief fake smile.

Finally the damn elevator doors opened, so you stepped inside and once again Minho pushed the first floor button. It could've been a silent couple of minutes, but of course they younger girl just could not resist.

"Did you learn everything well?" Oh wow.

"I have spent weeks researching and editing this stuff, I didn't only 'learn' it like a school poem." the annoyance in your voice really couldn't be hidden anymore, so good thing the elevator doors opened back up.

This time Minho took it upon himself to lighting place his hand on your back to lead you outside.

"Everything is ready, see you inside" he exclaimed back. So much for not acting suspicious, you thought.

You stopped a few meters away, stepping to the side away from his hand.

"Is everyone trying to get on my nerves specifically tonight, or" your voice dripped sarcasm, making the man roll his eyes.

"Yeah, right. You got enough on your plate right now, I know. That's why I tried to be civil" he didn't let you have the chance to bite back, as he kept going " In any case, I'm gonna leave you alone now. Go get a drink. A light one. Relax, you'll do great. Later, we can talk. In private."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Let me actually distract myself now, or I'll end up starting to argue at the stand instead of explaining my speech." with that, you forced yourself to walk away.

At exactly six thirty the conference started. You were seated with your team, of course. Everyone around this large, round table.

So cute, like king Arthur and his knights. And you were king Arthur in that moment. And hell, you would've better extracted that sword perfectly at first try.

Your turn didn't came until about an hour and a half later, after the welcoming speech, a couple of virtual messages from rich people who were too busy to be there in person, and a bunch of other companies' expositors.

"Please, give a round of applause for the next representative." the announcer spoke into the mic as he read from a folder, listing your company's name, the CEO, a few words of introduction, then finally your name.

The public applauded politely as you walked on stage with a smile, as carefully as you could. Couldn't have attempted twisted ankle number two at that moment.

"Thank you. Good evening. Tonight I am here to represent our," you extended your arms toward your team's table, " - company's project. I was honored with the duty of exposing the project to you. Hopefully it was the right call!" the crowd laughed and smiled.

You focused on explaining the idea, from the first draft, to research, then one by one describing and arguing the slides. Finally citing sources and closing your speech with some polite greetings.

The crowd once again clapped as you gracefully made your way down the stage. The presenter moved on, and a big sigh of relief left your mouth.

Your team looked at you with smiles, congratulating you as you went back to the table.

The whole official thing actually wrapped up around eight, not nine pm as you expected. Dinner was served and then a more casual after party was held. Not an actual party, more like a jazz music ambience with drinks, made for conversation.

And you did engage in some conversation, mainly with strangers and people from other companies. Some more job related topics, some about the event itself, others just very small talk.

By ten pm you were absolutely ready to ditch the whole thing and go to bed. You did it, it's over, it went well and the world didn't fell. So yeah, you called it a day. With everyone else, at least. But you still had some unfinished business with a person in particular.

Minho not so secretly followed you with his gaze all evening. He was so glad that the presentation went smoothly and it was over. He was also very proud of you. While your... relationship had been very short by then, he worked with you enough to know that you put your whole efforts into this project, and it paid off.

He was keeping his eye on you, but you were keeping yours on him as well. And both of you noticed. To be honest, the intention wasn't even to hide it.

You never interacted once. He just congratulated you along with everyone else, then that was it.

As he had been doing all night, he followed you with his eyes as you made your way out of the conference room. He waited a couple of seconds, then nonchalantly ditched his half consumed drink and followed you. As he expected, he found you waiting for him.

"Fancy seeing you here" he teased. He may have not acted like it, but he was actually quite nervous.

"Yeah, right" you replied with the slightest hint of humor, " I know there is a pool outside. It's closed now but you can still access it through the garden."

The man nodded in acknowledgedment, silently following at a moderately short distance, behind you.

Neither spoke a word until you were outside, the pool sides and the small garden dimly lit with warm lights. You sat on the sunbeds, next to each other. It was actually pretty cold, but you didn't seem to care at that point. At least there was no one else there, as you hoped.

"So..." he started, mostly to break the ice. And like that, as if you were waiting for a clue, you blurted out "Do you regret it?"

Minho stared at you for a second, slightly confused.

"What makes you think that?"

"Just answer. And be honest. I can take it, you know." your rubber your shoulder, both from the cold as well as the nervousness.

"I know you can." , he stated, serious "No. I didn't. Did you? Is that why you're asking?"

Your gaze finally found his again, the annoyance giving you some courage.

"No, I didn't. It was my idea, remember?", you paused, " I'm asking because you were cold last night. You know, after." just like that, eye contact was out of the window again.

"What? If anything it was you who disappeared without saying a word." he retorted. You raised an eyebrow.

"I went to clean up. You went to the bathroom so I thought you wanted some space."

"I was going to help you clean up. Not even the time to come back with a towel that you already left. At that point I thought, 'ah nice, the stress relief is over, better go back home' ", he air quoted with his fingers, "What was I supposed to think? Those were your intentions after all."

You couldn't really debate that. That's exactly what you said. It was crazy, you didn't even really know each other. If you weren't co-workers you wouldn't have seen each other again, ever. And that was probably the biggest mistake.

You knew the risk of getting personal life involved with the workplace. But then again you only wanted a night of meaningless sex. Why even make this fuss? Yet, there must be something. Otherwise you wouldn't bother having this conversation.

"Might be. All I know is that I literally asked you to stay, I offered you a place in my bed. Without any second meaning." you specified, "And instead you shut me down and went to sleep on the fucking couch. Left without a note or anything." you tilted your head to the side.

"I have already explained my reasons.", he replied, "Honestly what I get from this is that we're both pretty bad at communication." you stared at each other for a moment, and then, out of the blue, stifled laughs.

"Why are we arguing like an actual couple?" you asked, genuinely confused and weirdly amused by the situation. He shook his head, as clueless as you were.

"I have no idea."

Silence fell between you two for some time. Until you leaned back, propping yourself up with your hands on the sunbed.

"So what now?"

"What now?" he repeated.

"Do we pretend like this never happened?" yours was a genuine question, no second meaning or pressure behind it. He shrugged.

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?" he rolled his eyes, a light smirk on his face. You were just parroting each other at this point.

"I mean, I enjoyed myself. Don't know about the future, but that's a quite nice memory to keep, at the very least." he replied honestly, sneaking you a look, "Did you enjoy it?"

The question and the eye contact combined making you you blush. You nodded, acting more nonchalant than you were actually feeling. But you couldn't hide the but of mischief in your eyes at the thought.

Minho licked his lips, biting back a smile. Then nodded to himself.

"Right. Well, I say we see what happens. One thing we can agree on, though, is whatever, - if- anything happens, it stays out of the office" he waited for your response.

"Okay", you said, "Let's see what happens on Monday, then." you exchanged a smile.

Yeah, who knows, what will happen on Monday?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Y'all are gonna hate me for that finale🤣 but I warned you!!

That's it from me, hope you enjoyed and if you did, feel free to leave a feedback :')

Bye<3

#silentcryracha #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #my writing #lee know x reader #lee minho smut #stray kids lee know #lee know fanfic #lee know hard thoughts #lee know smut #lee minho #lee know x you #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #skz hard hours #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 19 days ago

Text

Chapters

Where Harry stumbles into a book store and finds more than just his next read.

Fluff

It was a crisp autumn afternoon in London, the kind of day when the air smelled faintly of rain, and the chill in the breeze hinted that winter was not far off. Harry Styles pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his neck as he wandered down a narrow side street, his steps unhurried. He had no real destination in mind, just an aimless stroll through the city to clear his head. He’d been working on new music for weeks, and though he loved the creative process, it had left him feeling restless. He needed something to take his mind off things for a while.

As he walked, his gaze was drawn to a small, unassuming bookstore nestled between a café and a vintage clothing shop. The sign above the door read Chapters in faded gold lettering, and the large front window displayed a collection of books stacked haphazardly on wooden shelves, their worn covers promising hidden treasures within. Harry hesitated for a moment before deciding to step inside, the bell above the door chiming softly as he entered.

The shop was quiet, a refuge from the bustling city outside. The smell of old paper and the faint scent of coffee from the café next door mingled in the air. Shelves crammed with books of all kinds lined the walls, creating narrow aisles that beckoned him to explore. He wandered toward the back of the shop, running his fingers along the spines of books as he passed, the familiar texture grounding him in the moment.

In the Contemporary Fiction section, Harry paused. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but something caught his eye—a novel by an author he didn’t recognize. He reached for it, but before his fingers could close around the book, a voice interrupted him.

“You don’t want that one.”

Harry turned, slightly startled, and found himself face to face with a woman. She stood a few feet away, holding a paperback in one hand, a warm smile playing on her lips. She was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, her hair loosely tied up in a way that suggested she hadn’t thought too much about it. A pencil was tucked behind her ear, as though she had just come from jotting down notes or ideas. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of kindness and amusement.

He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “No?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “No. That one’s overrated. It looks good, but the plot kind of falls apart halfway through. You’ll be disappointed.”

Harry looked back at the book, then at her, suppressing a smile. “And how do you know I won’t love it? Maybe disappointing plots are my thing.”

The woman laughed softly, a sound that fit perfectly in the cozy atmosphere of the bookstore. “I doubt it,” she said, holding out the paperback in her hand. “Try this one instead. It’s much better. Less flashy, more substance.”

Harry glanced at the book she was offering. The cover was simple, no bold colors or dramatic font, just a title in delicate script: The Quiet Fall. He hadn’t heard of it before, but something about the way she presented it made him curious. He took the book from her, his fingers brushing hers lightly in the exchange.

“And you’re sure this one’s better?” he asked, glancing at the back cover, scanning the synopsis.

“Positive,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning casually against the nearby shelf. “Trust me, I work in publishing. I know a good story when I see one.”

“Publishing?” Harry repeated, raising his gaze to meet hers again. “So, you’re an expert.”

She shrugged modestly. “I wouldn’t say expert. I just spend a lot of time with books.”

“I can see that,” Harry replied, gesturing to the pencil still tucked behind her ear. “Do you always carry a pencil, just in case?”

She reached up, surprised to find it still there, and pulled it out with a sheepish grin. “Old habit. I’m an editor, so I’m used to marking things up. I guess I never really stop working.”

Harry smiled, charmed by her easy demeanor. There was something refreshing about the way she spoke, completely unpretentious. She hadn’t recognized him, or if she had, she didn’t seem to care, and that alone made the conversation feel more genuine than any he’d had in a while.

“Harry,” he said, extending his hand.

“Isla,” she replied, shaking it with a firm grip. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”

“You too, Isla,” he said, liking the way her name sounded. “So, what’s so special about The Quiet Fall?”

Isla’s eyes lit up at the question, and she leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret. “It’s one of those books that sneaks up on you. It doesn’t try to impress you from the first page. Instead, it draws you in slowly, and by the time you’re halfway through, you’re completely invested in the characters. It’s the kind of story that stays with you long after you’ve finished it.”

Harry studied her for a moment, watching the way her face softened as she spoke about the book. She wasn’t just talking about it to make conversation—she genuinely loved the story, and it made him want to read it, if only to understand what she saw in it.

“Alright,” he said, tucking the book under his arm. “You’ve convinced me. I’ll give it a try.”

Isla smiled, clearly pleased. “I hope you like it. If not, you can come back and tell me I was wrong.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Harry replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin. “Though I have a feeling you won’t be.”

They stood there for a moment, the conversation hovering between them, neither in a rush to end it. Harry felt an unexpected pull toward her, something about the way she spoke so confidently yet without pretense. He found himself wanting to know more about her, to spend more time in her company.

“Hey,” he said, almost surprising himself with the boldness of the next words, “would you like to grab dinner with me sometime? Maybe we can talk more about books—or whatever.”

Isla blinked, clearly taken aback by the offer. She hesitated, her eyes searching his face as if trying to figure out if he was serious. When she saw that he was, a slow smile spread across her lips.

“Dinner?” she repeated, her tone light and teasing. “Is that how you thank someone for a good book recommendation?”

“It’s one way,” Harry said, shrugging. “But really, I’d just like to keep talking. If you’re up for it.”

Isla studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright, sure. Dinner sounds nice.”

Harry’s grin widened. “Great. How about tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night works,” she said, reaching into her bag to pull out a small notebook. She scribbled her number on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “Here. Just text me the details.”

He took the paper, folding it carefully and slipping it into his pocket. “I will.”

With that, Isla gave him a small wave and turned to leave, but not before casting one last glance over her shoulder, a smile still lingering on her lips. As she disappeared around the corner of the aisle, Harry stood there for a moment, the book she’d recommended still tucked under his arm, feeling lighter than he had in days.

He looked down at The Quiet Fall and smiled to himself. Perhaps the book wasn’t the only thing that had found him today.

The next evening, the autumn chill had settled deeper into the London air, and the city streets were aglow with the warm light of streetlamps and the muted glow of shopfronts. Harry stood outside a cozy little Italian restaurant called Bene, his breath misting in the cold air. The restaurant was tucked into a corner of a quieter part of the city, the type of place that had candles flickering on every table and the unmistakable scent of garlic and fresh herbs wafting through the door.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. He was a little early, and though he wasn’t usually one to get nervous, he found himself adjusting the collar of his coat, running a hand through his hair. It had been a long time since he’d asked someone out on such a whim, and something about Isla—the way she’d effortlessly engaged him in the bookstore—stirred a sense of anticipation that was unfamiliar and exciting.

As if on cue, he spotted her walking toward him from the end of the street. Isla was bundled up in a long wool coat, her hair down this time, catching the golden light from the streetlamps. She carried herself with an easy confidence, the same kind that had drawn him to her the day before. When she saw him, she smiled, and Harry’s nerves eased.

“You found it,” he said, returning the smile as she approached.

“I did,” she replied, glancing around at the restaurant. “It looks lovely. Very…understated.”

“Understated’s my specialty,” Harry joked, holding the door open for her as they walked in.

The restaurant was just as cozy inside as it had appeared from the street. Small tables were tucked into corners, with flickering candles casting soft light across red-checkered tablecloths. The smell of fresh pasta and baking bread filled the air, and soft Italian music played in the background.

The host led them to a table near the window, and as they sat down, Isla gave him an appreciative glance. “This is perfect. How did you find this place?”

“Someone recommended it to me a while ago,” Harry said, picking up his menu. “It’s one of those hidden gems. I’ve only been here once, but the food is great, and it’s quiet.”

“Quiet is good,” Isla agreed, her eyes scanning the menu. “Especially when you’re trying to avoid the crowds.”

Harry smiled at her comment, wondering if she still hadn’t quite put two and two together about who he was, or if she was simply being polite by not mentioning it. Either way, he appreciated it. It made things feel more normal, more real.

They ordered their meals—Isla opting for a simple pasta dish while Harry went for the chef’s special—and settled into easy conversation. They talked about books, naturally, and their favorite authors. Isla told him about her work as an editor, how she loved diving into manuscripts and helping authors shape their stories. Harry shared a bit about his songwriting process, how he often felt that writing music wasn’t so different from writing stories—it was all about connecting with emotions, about telling a truth.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and the hours slipped by without either of them noticing. There was a natural chemistry between them, a comfort that made it feel like they’d known each other far longer than a day. They laughed about the quirks of living in London, talked about their favorite spots in the city, and traded recommendations for books and movies. Harry found himself fascinated by Isla’s thoughtful insights and her sharp, playful wit. And Isla, in turn, was drawn to Harry’s humility, his down-to-earth nature that belied his fame.

When dessert came—two small cups of rich tiramisu, perfect for sharing—they were leaning closer over the table, their conversation more intimate now, their words softer in the candlelight.

“This is nice,” Isla said, spooning a bit of the dessert. “Not just the food, but this. It’s been a while since I’ve had such an easy night.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before he replied. “Yeah, it’s been a while for me too.”

He hesitated, then added, “You know, it’s funny. I wasn’t really planning on doing anything when I went into that bookstore yesterday. I was just wandering around. But I’m glad I did.”

Isla smiled, her gaze warm and steady. “Me too. It’s not every day you get dinner out of a book recommendation.”

They shared a quiet laugh, the space between them growing more comfortable with each passing moment. As the evening wound down and the other diners began to trickle out of the restaurant, the soft murmur of conversation fading, neither of them seemed eager to leave.

When the check came, Harry reached for it, and Isla gave him a playful frown. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he said simply, handing his card to the waiter.

Once they were outside, the cold air hit them again, and Isla instinctively pulled her coat tighter around her. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at her as they stood on the quiet street.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he said, his voice a little lower now.

“So did I,” Isla replied, looking up at him. “Thanks for the dinner—and the company.”

Harry hesitated, a thought swirling in his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake. There was a connection here, something undeniable, and though it was only their first real night together, he found himself not wanting it to end just yet.

His heart raced a little as he said, “I don’t know if this is too forward, but…would you like to come back to mine? It’s just up the street. We can keep talking, have a drink, whatever you feel like.”

Isla looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment. He half-expected her to politely decline—they had, after all, only just met. But there was something in the way she lingered, something in the soft smile that touched her lips, that made him think she was considering it.

“Your place?” she repeated, her tone thoughtful rather than hesitant.

“Yeah,” Harry said, his voice steady but hopeful. “No pressure at all. Just…if you want to. We don’t have to call it a night yet.”

Isla’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the streetlamps. “Alright,” she said softly, her decision made. “Lead the way.”

Relief and excitement mingled in Harry’s chest as they began walking down the street, their steps in sync. The night air felt electric now, the quiet hum of the city around them fading as they turned toward a quieter part of the neighborhood.

When they reached Harry’s place, a modest but stylish flat tucked away behind a row of tall brick buildings, he unlocked the door and gestured for Isla to enter first. She stepped inside, glancing around with interest. The interior was warm and welcoming, a reflection of Harry’s eclectic tastes. There were books stacked on shelves and tables, a guitar leaning against the wall, and art on the walls that looked as though it had been carefully chosen rather than hastily bought.

“This is nice,” Isla said, slipping off her coat and hanging it by the door. “Very cozy.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, closing the door behind them. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, tea?”

“Wine sounds good,” she said, following him into the living room.

Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two glasses of red wine. He handed one to Isla, and they sat on the sofa, the room bathed in the soft glow of a nearby lamp. The atmosphere had shifted now, more intimate, the weight of the evening settling around them.

They continued talking, but their words grew slower, quieter. There was an unspoken tension in the air, the kind that hovered between two people who were drawn to each other but were still testing the boundaries. Isla’s knee brushed against Harry’s at one point, and she didn’t pull away. He took that as a sign to move a little closer, their faces now inches apart as they spoke in hushed tones.

Finally, after a lull in the conversation, Isla met his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. “It feels strange, doesn’t it?”

Harry tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. “What does?”

“This,” she said softly, gesturing between them. “How easy it is. We’ve only just met, but it feels…different. Good different.”

Harry’s heart thudded in his chest. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice low. “It does.”

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, the room silent save for the distant hum of the city outside. Then, almost instinctively, Harry leaned in, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed hers, soft and tentative, as if testing the waters. Isla responded immediately, her hand coming up to rest gently on the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.

It was slow at first, their lips exploring each other with the kind of unhurried tenderness that comes when two people are completely lost in the moment. Time seemed to stretch as they kissed, the world outside fading into nothingness. When they finally pulled apart, breathless and a little dazed, Harry rested his forehead against hers.

“Stay,” he whispered, his voice a soft plea. “Stay the night.”

Isla looked into his eyes, her thumb brushing his jawline as she smiled, her decision already made.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #famous!harry #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry styles one direction #harry #harrystylesoneshot #harry styles fan fic

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bunnyywritings · 6 months ago

Text

extra credit assignment with the professor and honey bunny

PROFESSOR STEIN x F!READER

[a/n: sorry sorry! i'm falling behind...my motivation is waning BUT i am determined to finish this series so here's what should've been posted yesterday on my birthday ! professor stein will always be so fucking hot in my eyes...he can tie me down and dissect me any day lol anyways, once again: my use of the term 'little' has nothing to do with any body size or weight, this fic is also a little more on the 'plus size reader' side, sorry it just came out that way, i also dropped the ball and made him an ethics teacher instead of a bio/chem teacher like i originally thought...i blame @gojonanami and her amazing professor suguru series...i'm obsessed !!🫶🏼]

wc: 3.1k words

WARNINGS: teacher/student dynamic (OF AGE), power dynamic, age gap, "shy" reader, skewed descriptions of ethics cause i googled and read like two things, sir kink, hair pulling, cowgirl, stein bends you over his desk, mating press, breeding kink, creampie, no use of y/n, reader is called: bunny, sweetheart, good girl, sweet girl, honey

“You need my measurements?” You asked, not sure if you heard him right. “What for?”

“Well for your outfit, of course.” He chuckled, finding it amusing that you had already forgotten what the two of you had spoken about.Especially when your confusion led to a small lull of silence on the line.

“Oh…oh right! Right, the whole school girl thing…uh okay-” You rattled them out and he wrote them down, scrolling through the website on his laptop to try and find the right look for you.

When you two finally met, you were pleased with the tasteful outfit he had chosen. It looked like a legitimate look you’d wear to school. The light brown plaid skirt was paired with a white button up, a knit sweater vest, sheer pantyhose and brown loafers.

He was sat behind a gorgeous mahogany desk, a small smile on his lips. “Have you ever done a scene like this?” You were flicking through the short script he had given you…more of a guideline really.

“Uhmm n-no, not as in depth as this or with a partner. I did it for a live cam once…” You blushed, feeling somewhat insecure beneath his gaze.

Stein was one of the more seasoned creators on the platform. His production quality was always high and his scenes balanced with both porn and plot. He was also extremely attractive. His dyed silver locks framed his face beautifully, his eyes reminded you of green sea glass as they sat behind his silver eyewear and his build…God. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and thick arms. His hands were big, lithe fingers just the right amount of thickness, knuckles prominent against his smooth, pale skin.

Not to mention the age gap between the two of you…the power dynamic was going to be a little more believable when he was 14 years older than you.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Mhmm, yes…Professor.”

And so, you stepped out of his office. Standing at the door for a good minute or two before rapping your knuckles against the shining wood.

“Come in!” His voice was muffled but you took your cue and pushed the door open, making sure to shut it softly behind you. “Ah, bunny! Come on in, have a seat.” He gestured to the cushioned seat in front of his desk. His smile was soft as you stood by the door for a few moments before finally moving.

“R-Right. Thank you, P-Professor.” You gingerly sat in the seat, back straight and stiff as you tugged the hem of your skirt.

“So, what brings you to my office hours, hmm?”

“Uhm well, I-I hate to admit it but I’ve been h-having a little trouble with our uhm, our new unit…”

“Oh! Well, no need to be embarrassed, Kantism is a challenging subject. What exactly were you having trouble with?”

“Categorical imperatives…” You shift your eyes away, cheeks flushing.

“I see…well-” He starts to ramble on with the definition, rubbing his chin as he did so and you found it difficult to not stare at his fingers. “-does that make sense?”

You blink yourself out of your daze before nodding, “I-I’m following.”

A subtle smirk tugs his lips as he continues. “Kant also says that there are three different moral actions-” You wring your hands in your lap, playing up the nervous, jumpy act. As he continues to explain how utilitarianism plays a part in this subject, you tune back in. “That should be a bit more clarifying for you.” You nodded eagerly. “Did you have any other questions? Kant or otherwise?”

“Y-yes actually.” You bit your lip, eyes widening as you clarified. “Not-not about Kant! I uhm…I was hoping to ask about some…extra credit opportunities?” He frowned, head tilting to the side. “My uhm, my grade isn’t where I-I’d like it to be…” You trailed off, eyes dropping to read the name placard displayed on his desk. He turns to his laptop, ‘typing and scrolling’ before the tension in his forehead releases. “Ah, a B- isn’t so bad, is it?”

“W-Well no but I…I would like to keep my grade point average and grad-graduate summa cum laude…”

“Hmm right, right…an understandable goal.” He closed his laptop, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Has my unit been so difficult that you’re falling behind? Is everything alright?” The slight twinge of concern in his voice made your thighs clench. Something that did not go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I just seem to be dis-distracted…lately.” Your confession leaves him amused and you with bright, flushed cheeks.

“Distracted?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the top of the desk, his chin in his palm. “I see…is it a boy, perhaps?”

“N-No!” You grip the fabric of your skirt. “No…I uhm-I’m not seeing any-anyone.”

His eyebrows jump. “Really? Forgive me for saying so but, surely you have boys throwing themselves at you?”

A quiet, almost nervous laugh leaves your lips. “Yeah…n-no. Not that I’d really want the attention from guys here…guys my age, they uhm…well, they tend to be vulgar and simple minded.”

“Hmm, yes, I suppose you’re right.” A silence lingers after his words. “A pretty, intelligent little thing like you should be treated with reverence.”

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, squeaking out a, “Professor…”

“Ah right, forgive me. That was highly inappropriate”. He sighed. “So, extra credit…I usually don’t make it a habit to offer it, since students use it as an excuse to lag behind-” He catched how your lips drop into a pout, eyes glistening with unspoken pleas. “But, if you tell me what’s been so distracting as of late, maybe we can come up with a solution to help you out, hmm? You’re a bright student and I’d hate to be the reason you lose your sheen.”

You shake your head with earnest. That’s the worst thing you could do…how could you possibly tell him that-

“There’s no need to be shy, hmm? We’re both adults here and I’ve been teaching for years, I’m sure I can stomach it.”

You mumble out a reason, as quiet and jumbled as you could, hoping to God that he’d give up and drop the subject. Your eyes trained in your lap in fear that you might give it away. Your deepest, darkest, secret…

He stands, rounding the desk and leaning on the edge of it. Gently but firmly, he grips your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t quite catch that…” His thumb caressed the skin below your bottom lip and you had to fight the urge to tilt your head down and take his digit between your lips.

“S’you…s-sir.”

“I’m sorry, come again?”

“It’s you, s-sir!” And oh, the way your lips wrapped around the honorific made his dick twitch against his slacks.

“Is that right?” He felt like a fox playing with his dinner, the way your wide eyes stared up into his, begging to be devoured whole.

“Y-yes…”

He gripped your chin tighter, ignoring the whine that left your throat as he growled a hoarse. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir!”

“Hmm good…” He sneered. “What exactly is it about me that’s so distracting?” He hummed, removing his hand from your chin, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Y-You can’t ask-ask me something like that…”

He chuckled, “Of course I can…and I expect an answer.” His eyes darkened lustfully. “So tell me, bunny. What’s distracting?”

You fidgeted in your seat, fingers clenching the fabric of your skirt again. “Uhm…y-your voice…your hands-”

He found it hard to resist a scoffed laugh and in the blink of an eye he stood behind you, leaned over just above your shoulder. “You like my voice?” His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his silky voice sending shivers down your spine and a rush of heat to your core. “Do you rewatch my lectures when you’re in your room? Touch that pretty pussy to the sound of my voice, hmm?” His lips pressed a feather light kiss behind your ear as you whined and as he trailed down your neck, the messier they got. His lips were surprisingly soft, massaging the sensitive skin at the hollow of your neck.

You tilted your head back against his shoulder, opening yourself up to him. “Why don’t you show me.” He reached around the sides of the chair and roughly gripped your thighs watching as your flesh squished between his fingers, splitting your legs open for him and before you could even think to protest, a loud rip! filled the office. He had torn the crotch of your sheer pantyhose to reveal your soaked panties. “Is this all for me? You’re soaked…” He tsked, pushing your panties aside and tugging your folds open, caressing your pulsing clit with barely there touches.

“Mhmm, all-all for you, sir…s’yours, all yours.” You keened at his gentle touches, hips twitching and desperate for more friction.

“Then be a good girl and show me how you touch yourself to my voice.” You replaced your hands with his, starting to circle your bud in slow, soft circles, a drawn out moan leaving your glossed lips.

“Good girl…” He purred. “Now suck on my fingers, show me how much you love my hands…that’s it.”

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, tongue swirling around his cold digits in earnest before taking them deeper into your mouth, gagging softly when his fingertips met the back of your throat before pulling back and taking them back in.

As you began to bob your head on his fingers, he couldn’t help pawing himself through the front of his gray slacks. His precum, no doubt staining the front of the fabric. “Oh look at you! Such a shy and prude girl, getting herself off while choking on her Professor’s fingers…fuck.” Your thighs twitched as you neared your first orgasm, sucking on his fingers bringing you more arousal than you thought possible.

“Don’t even think about it.” He almost snarled, shoving his fingers roughly to the back of your throat. Your shoulders jolting as a particularly harsh gag wracked through your body. “Put your hands by your side.” Reluctantly, you did as instructed and he pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving your poor lungs a reprieve.

As you attempted to catch your breath, he wrapped your hair around his fingers and pulled roughly, the action pulling you up from your seat before he was shoving you towards his desk. “Ahh! P-Professor!” With his fist still tugging at your locks, he bent you over and pushed your head down against the desk, your cheek landing harshly on a notebook and a few stray papers.

“I’ve got to say…you’ve been quite the distraction as well. Always sitting in the front of my class, chewing on your lips or your pens-” He unbuckled his belt, popping his trousers open and letting them drop down around his thighs. “Always in your cute little outfits and short skirts.” He flipped your skirt over your ass. “I’ve dreamed of having you bent over my desk, creaming all over my cock.” He stroked himself a few times before tapping his heavy tip against your stocking covered ass.

Not being able to help it, you wiggle your hips tauntingly. He groaned, “Oh just look at you…” He muttered before grasping the base of his cock and lining himself up with your entrance.

Your nails dug into the wood of the desk as he pushed himself in. Entranced with the way you seemed to be sucking him in, inch by agonizing inch, your poor pussy being stretched to accommodate his girth. You tried to push yourself further up the desk in an attempt to get respite from his sweltering length.

“Nuh uh…don’t run, sweet girl. Don’t run…” He roughly gripped your hips and pulled you back onto him, sheathing himself entirely in your warm, gummy walls. “Stay right there.”

Stein was brutal, bullying his dick into you repeatedly, meeting your womb in a deliciously painful kiss so much so that you lost track of time. “S’too much! T-Too…much!”

Completely ignoring your cries, he snapped his hips once more and stilled them against your behind, pulling you with him as he sat in the chair you had been previously sitting in, situating you on his lap.“You wanted extra credit, right?”

“Y-Yes sir…but-”

“Then put in the work, bunny.” He brought his hand down in a rough slap against your ass cheek. “Show me how much you deserve that A.”

Arching your back, you leaned forward and rested your hands on the tops of his thighs. Taking a deep breath, you lifted yourself slowly. Making it only halfway up before dropping yourself back down. It only took two thrusts before your legs were threatening to give out. The pleasure was overwhelming, Steins low moans and grunts only adding fuel to the fire.

“S-Stein! I’m- M’gonna…!” You dropped back down on his length, back hunching over as your orgasm ripped through your entire body, mind reeling as you completely forgot to play up the whole ‘sir’ thing while Stein’s grip tightened around your waist so you didn’t fall over.

Stein brushed your hair over your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to the nape of your neck, tongue licking up the salty perspiration gathered there. “Shhh…shh, that’s a good girl…I made you feel that good, hmm?”

A delirious giggle left your lips as you let Stein pick you up, inhaling sharply as he pulled out of you, your release dripping down his, still painfully hard, cock and onto the trimmed blonde hair at its base.

Gaining a second wind, you shoved his name placard and a few other things aside before sitting on his desk, reaching for the hem of your sweater vest and tugging it off over your head along with your button up shirt and mindlessly tossing it aside. He watched hungrily as you kicked off your skirt and widened your thighs, the heels of your loafers resting on the edge of his desk. Your folds were dripping with arousal, your skin flushed and puffy as you clenched around nothing.

“C’mon Professor, don’t keep your favorite student waiting…”

Scoffing, he shrugged his tweed jacket off and you started to salivate. His mock neck shirt was short sleeved and tight. Almost like it was painted on him. His biceps bulged deliciously against the thin fabric, the urge to run your tongue across the veins running down his arms was strong but you held onto whatever self control you had left and waited for him to make his way between your legs.

“And who said you were my favorite student?” A wet slap! slap! echoed his words as he tapped his tip against your clit.

“You do this with all your students then?” You whined. “That’s no fair…” A pout tugged at your lips.

He laughed softly, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender embrace, biting your bottom lip before pulling away. “I’m just teasing, bunny. You are, by far, my favorite…student.” He punctuated his statement by snapping his hips forward and burying himself into your sloppy core.

“Ah-!” You lost your balance and landed onto the desk with a soft thump against the wood. He gripped the bottom of your thighs and pushed your legs up and folding you in half, straight into a mating press. The fabric of your pantyhose tightening against your skin.

His desk creaked with each of his heavy thrusts, scraping against the hardwood floor once or twice. “God, it was like this cunt was made for me! She’s swallowing me up so well…so warm…n’wet!”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, the press he had you in made it feel like he was quite literally rearranging your insides, your mind quickly growing fuzzy and clouded with thoughts of his huge, thick cock and the way his scent enveloped you entirely as he leaned over to plant kisses down your neck, no doubt sucking marks into it.

Stein felt himself twitch inside you as he gazed down at you. Your face was screwed up in pleasure, lips glossy with spit and parted as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “Let me see those pretty eyes, honey. Come on.” Your eyelids fluttered open, lined with tears and the pretty color of your iris was swallowed up by your blown out pupils, hazy with euphoria.

He shifted your hips and slipped deeper into you, if it was even possible, and found that spot that made you see stars. You fought to keep your eyes on him as you became consumed by one thing only. Your second orgasm.

“Fuck…I-” He whimpered as you clamped down around him. “I-I’m gonna cum…” He groaned, attempting to keep a steady pace to bring you over the edge with him. “Where-?” He grunted, choked with pleasure.

“Inside me, please! I want- fill me up, sir…p-please -!” Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your release shaking your body, thighs burning as your legs shook. Overstimulation creeping up on you as he chased his end.

“Want me to breed this pretty little cunt? Huh? Make you a momma for extra credit?”

“Y-Yes! Yes!” You started to babble, a few tears slipping down your cheeks.

His moans became hoarse, desperate whimpers, hips twitching before he stilled in you. Balls tightening as he emptied his load into you. A full, warm feeling taking over your body as your chest heaves to catch your breath.

He pulled out with a hiss, watching his spend trickle out of you before fucking it back into you with his fingers, laughing softly as you whimpered. Your hips twitch to get away from him, and he apologizes.

“M’sorry bunny, don’t want it to go to waste…” He then eased your legs down around his waist, massaging his fingertips into your tense skin. He watched in amusement as you leaned forward, lips pursed subtly and he met your lips. Exchanging a few kisses before easing you to sit up and wrapping his arms around you, cuddling you into his chest.

“I’d say that’s earned you an A+...”

You cackled against his chest. “Yeah, it better have.”

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