morning person
s. harrington x reader, 2.8k
summary: a snapshot into the morning routine of steve harrington, now that the two of you have moved in together
includes: established steve x reader, domestic fluff, steve is a busybody.
warnings: literally none except i am still incapable of proofreading properly
a/n: honestly if anyone has any requests i would love to hear them, or just want to chat about this show that has ruined my life, because i'm spiralling into obsession over here.
People who complain about mornings have obviously never spent one waking up beside Steve Harrington, this you’re sure of. Because if they had, then they would know there was nothing in the world so deliciously saccharine than that drowsy, softened look on his face as he blinks the sleep away from mingling eyelashes, his lips curving upwards into a dreamy sort of smile. This isn’t even the first time he has awoken this morning.
Steve Harrington is a morning person – an early riser, a dawn greeter, a restless child on christmas day. His body clock is set as the sun begins to kiss the horizon, his eyes blinking open into a dark, cool bedroom. New. This bedroom is new. He is still getting used to it, this apartment, a dingy one bedroom located just a few blocks from the rougher side of town. It’s a far cry from the mansion he used to live in, small and outdated and a little worse for wear, if he were to say so himself, but it’s home. It’s home because it’s his, and it’s home because it’s yours. You rent it together, bills strung haphazardly from paychecks of jobs you’d both rather live without. Steve doesn’t mind that he still works at the video store, not when it lights up the lamp on his bedside, or cooks the pasta on your shitty gas top that flickers every so often. He needs to call the service guy, now that he thinks about it, but it’s too early to matter.
He can feel the heat of your body pressed in beside him, curled in on yourself, face buried into the pillow now folding creases into your skin, shoulders rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You have never been a morning person, he learned rather early on. You’re delirious, and grumpy, and still so beautiful despite the glare in your eyes when he used to wake you, and now, he knows to let you sleep. His impatience to rouse you, to kiss you and touch you is an urge he’s learned to swallow, so he pauses for a moment simply to stare, to smile to himself at the way you mumble in your dreams.
He has the time, he thinks, considering it’s still dark out, and his shift at the store is not due for half a morning away, so he lets himself linger, tucked into the warmth of bedsheets as he works up the courage to leave it. He knows he needs to, that he’ll feel better if he does, that the routine always pays off even if it means parting from you. The air will be chilly outside, but he needs the cold to clear his head. His morning run is his time, after all. It gives him the solitude to consider, to plan, to unwind.
He slips from the bed, careful footsteps walking a still unfamiliar path through the bedroom, boxes stacked against a near wall still unpacked from the move. His sneakers are in the wardrobe, well placed for a quick pick up, though he hasn’t accounted for his discarded shirt rippled right in his path. He trips, stumbling slightly, cursing himself as the thud that resounds as heavy feet meet the floorboards. He turns with a cringe, hearing you stir, though you do not rise as you wriggle deeper into yellow linens, disappearing beneath the comforter.
He’s quick to dress, not wanting to risk another incident and the wrath of your disturbed sleep, slipping out into the living room to tie his shoes, still half asleep and blinking blearily. Despite its flaws, he likes this apartment more than he thought possible. There’s a passthrough between the kitchen and the living room that lets him talk to you as he cooks, you hanging over the bench to smile at him, pressing kisses into his shoulder when he dares to come too close. There’s a strange nook that sits in the wall by the door, one that now holds your keys and bumble bee umbrella, though neither of you are too sure why it was built in the first place. There’s a flat expanse outside the bathroom window that you want to build a flower box into, though Steve is yet to determine how, since neither of you are particularly good at D.I.Y. He loves this second hand couch Eddie found on the curb, loves the strange, abstract art piece Will designed for you both as a housewarming, loves the ceramic clown that Robin stole from an overpriced giftshop to hide in one of your moving boxes, now settled in the bookshelf beside an array of half read novels between you.
He’s building a life here with you, and Steve is trying his best to remind himself of it every chance he get. There will be Christmases spent in these walls, games night drinks spilled on this carpet, and so many I love you kisses pressed to smiling cheeks beside that front door – he hardly knows how to contain the excitement for it all, even as he ties his laces.
The morning is colder than he expected, but Steve has never been one to check the weather even now, even after he caught a cold from a raining run one morning, taking himself straight to work rather than home to you to shower. He figure’s he’ll wing it, deal with the consequences as they come, and enjoy the way you dote on him as he whines and groans in his flu like delirium days later. Cold, but not raining, he knows he’ll be fine this time.
He’s been planning out this new jogging route as he goes, still learning the maps and turns of each new lane. He’d never been to this part of town much before the move, but he’s starting to acclimate one run at a time. It’s not too far from Hawkins, after all. It still feels like a familiar place, but it’s closer to the community college to save you the travel time. Steve’s a visual learner, after all. It gives him the roadmap that he’ll need to plan out his week. He’s taking himself the long way just to jot down the layout; the farmers market, the hardware store, the cafe with the good coffee. He waves to the people he passes by, few and far between, trying to appear friendly. He doesn’t know yet the culture of this community, but he’s eager to make a good impression. He recognises the old man who runs the news agency, stops to chat as they talk about the community centre. Steve’s agreed to volunteer for the refurbishment, he’s hoping it’ll help you both settle in, and you’ve promised to bake up your best batch of pastries to feed the hungry husbands as they work. Steve’s not yet a husband, but he’s planning on changing that in due time.
The sun mingling with the clouds by the time he departs again, his pace quickening through midtown suburbia to take him home. The paperboy is tossing rolls at the doors, barely breaking on his bike as he passes house after house. Steve moves onto the road to avoid any collisions, shaking his head as the teen wheels off past a corner. He hasn’t even thought about his week yet, he realises, and his pace drops in consideration. There’s a stocktake coming up at work that will take more energy than he has to give, his parents are due over for dinner later in the week (he’s hoping they’ll cancel), and Robin has booked him tickets to some kind of gig that he’s certain he’ll hate. He mentally notes the checklist – things to buy, things to do, things to clean – now able to see his lot clearly without the buzz of a busy world around him. His days run smoother this way, alone, soles beating against the pavement. It starts him on the right foot.
He’s out of breath when he arrives back on your block, panting heavily without the grace of a water bottle. He knows he should have brought one, but there’s no point stewing on it now. His thighs ache as he climbs the staircase, three flights of stairs his least favourite part of coming home. He can’t imagine hauling groceries up this stairwell is going to be an enjoyable weekly endeavour, but for the price of rent, he’s willing to make the effort, even with a slightly busted knee.
He’s a little louder than he wants to be as he eases open the lock, slipping into a slightly brighter apartment than when he left. He doesn’t think you’re awake, but he takes pause to slow himself down, turning into the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Steve clicks on the faucet, hanging his head below the tap to let the cool water run directly into his mouth. He lacks grace as he guzzles down half a litre, droplets trickling down his cheeks and chin into unclean dishes from the night before. There’s urgency, he decides, in this drink. No type for a cup, no time to pause. He pulls away gasping, wiping a cupful of water across his sweat slicken face, unable to suck enough breath into his lungs. He leans back against the benchtop, eyes pressed skyward to focus on slowing himself down, letting his heart rate drop back to a blissful pace.
He knows he should shower, but more than anything, he’s aching to get back between the sheets with you. It’s funny how he still misses you when you’re not within reach, even for an hour, even when he knows you’re still wrapped up tight in the comforts of his bed. It feels wrong to love a person this much, like he shouldn’t be made to feel so much, so deeply, every passing minute of every passing day. But he does. He knows he’s not the first to feel such a love, but he thinks he might be the only one regardless, because no one else has you. He thinks it’s strange that everyone in the world isn’t aching to be by your side, that hearts all over the town aren’t skipping beats at the wideness of your smile, the curve of your shoulder, the tickle of your laugh. This love must be special, then, because how else can he be the only one so enamoured by you.
He forces himself into the shower, the water not yet warm even as he sinks his head beneath the stuttering stream. The pipes are old, though a cold shower bothers him far less than it bothers you. He’ll be out quicker this way. He is less thorough in his cleaning than he thinks he ought to be, scrubbing furiously at his body with the loofah you bought him, scraping sweat and red streaks into a now fading tan. He’s seeing the sun less these days in the dead of autumn, but he’ll make it up later. Right now, all he is focused on is climbing back into his bed, his skin stained with a citrus scent embedded into the new soap you had bought. It’s not his usual brand, but he thinks he likes the change anyways. It reminds him of summer picnics with you, fingers digging into orange peels, juices dribbling down his fingers until he tears out slices one by one. The scent lingers, filled with your orange flavoured kisses and sun streaked highlights burning into his mind, and yes, he thinks, the change isn’t so bad.
He shuts off the tap, yanking his towel from the rack to pat himself dry, hair shaking out like a puppy dog with rambunctious excitement to be on his way. He doesn’t bother to redress, dropping the towel to the floor without focus, padding back towards your bedroom. You’re exactly how he left you, though a little more illuminated in the morning light. You’ve wiggled out of the blanket again, one foot kicked out to the side to regulate your body temperature, one hand reaching out towards his side of the bed. You reach for him in your sleep sometimes, and he hates the idea of not being there for you when you do.
He clambers into bed his eagerness betraying his stealth, expert hands lifting your arm up for him to slide under, hanging it securely over his waist as he settles into the warm dip of the mattress. Your body responds instinctively, rolling into him with a groan, still not quite awake, though he can tell you’re not so far off. He runs fingers through your hair, trying to stave off your inevitable waking for as long as he can manage. Your alarm isn’t due for another hour, and he wants every second before that spent just like this.
He doesn’t mean to fall back asleep, but sleep takes him anyways, his eyes blinking shut under the hypnotic pattern of your breathing beside him. He’ll wake up again groggier now, but there is nothing to be done to change it. He tugs you in closer, rougher in his sleep, his neediness permeating his unconscious mind until you’re pressed square against him. The movement spurs you awake, slowly and unintentionally, though it takes you a moment to understand why.
There he is, your man, your darling boy, mouth hanging open with quiet, rumbling snores, arms wrapped around you in a protective lock. He’s never looked more beautiful, even with your eyes out of focus, one closed and pressed into the fabric of your pillowcase. You can smell the soap, feel the softness of his now cleansed skin beneath your curious fingertips, and you know he’s already been out of bed. He tries his best not to fall back asleep, but your smile curves wider to be blessed to see it. There’s a jealousy in you, after all, that he gets to watch you sleep so often. Times like these are rare, when you awaken first, and you’re greedy in your enjoyment of them. You’d take a picture if you thought you could reach the camera, but the moment would spoil, you were sure. You commit it to memory instead, every dip and curve and freckle and hair burned into your head until it’s all you can see. You want his face to be a fading image that blinks to life behind every close of your eyes, an after image repeating itself well into the day when you’re far away from him.
He is so lovely, and you are so in love.
The alarm breaks the two of you out of your reverie, your body jolting at the surprise of it. Steve is slower to start this time, groaning a drunken sort of sound as you slam your hand down on the rattling clock. His arm tightens around you, dragging you until your body is half wedged under his own, your giggles drowning out into muffled chuckles as your face burrows into the crook of his neck.
“I fell back asleep.” He mutters, closing his eyes with a sigh.
“I know.” You coo back, adjusting the curve of your back to a more comfortable position, tangling legs between his own until you’re thoroughly wrapped.
“You sound awake.” He mumbles back, squeezing at your waist with unmasked affection. “Were you up?”
“Yeah.” It’s an airy sort of confession, made to match the tender strokes of fingers reaching to scrape lovingly at his scalp. “Just watchin’ you sleep.”
“Perv.” He teases, kissing at your hair, mouth hungry and missing your skin entirely. He lights up as you giggle, his head lifting with heavy blinks to gaze down at you, hair pressed upwards into a lopsided mess. You do your best to pat it down for him. “You like what you see?”
You crook your head to the side, focusing your gaze in a tender expression. “Something like that.” His brow arches curiously, leaving you to laugh again. “I love you, you moron.”
His smile widens, head dropping to nuzzle his nose roughly into your cheek, lips catching on your jaw every so often with exaggerated noises of enthusiasm. “Love you too, baby.”
There is silence for a minute, nothing but his lips dragging affection across the planes of your cheek, his hands wandering underneath the fold of your bedshirt to press fingertips into fading stretch marks across your hips. You’re worried he’ll fall asleep again, and you know you don’t have the heart today to wake him a second time.
“You want breakfast? I can make jam on toast?”
He hums a happy sound, though does nothing to release his grip on you. “Yeah, okay. Gonna have to escape me, though. Can’t make my arm move.”
He pretends to try and shuffle his grip, putting on a little show with a pout when his hold does not dislodge. You roll your eyes, brushing the pad of your thumb against his brow bone.
“Five more minutes, then.”
Steve was back asleep within three.
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Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)
"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath)
Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak)
She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show)
She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"
A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.
ENJOY!
Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)
ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.
Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)
“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”
“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”
“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”
“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”
“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”
You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running.
You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term.
Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.
These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.
When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”
(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”
(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “
(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”
(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.
(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”
(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours.
(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”
(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”
(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions.
(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”
(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”
(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”
(9:01pm) “Or what?”
…
(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”
(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”
(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”
(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”
(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”
(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”
(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”
(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”
(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”
(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”
(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”
(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”
(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”
(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”
(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”
(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”
(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”
(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”
(9:46pm) “*Daddies”
(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”
(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”
As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!
Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.
############
That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him.
When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours.
As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.
(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”
(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”
(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”
(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”
(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”
(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”
(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”
(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”
(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”
(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”
(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”
(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”
(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”
(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.
Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers.
“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”
You smiled as you turned on your microphone.
“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”
“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”
The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less.
“No.”
“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.
“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”
“Or are totally naked.”
“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”
“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”
“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”
“Again fair.”
“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”
“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”
“I’m the rockstar.”
Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…
“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone.
“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”
Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.
“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”
“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.
“I like that sassy attitude.”
“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”
“Most men can’t.”
“Most men aren’t us.”
“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together.
“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”
Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view.
“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”
“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”
You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.
“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast.
“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”
Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.
“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”
“Fuck…yes.”
“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”
“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”
“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”
Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high.
“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”
“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”
“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.
“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”
The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar.
“Again…we aren’t most men.”
“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”
Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile.
“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”
“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”
“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”
You listen as they heavily sigh.
“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”
After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything.
As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen.
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!
Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep.
##############
(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”
(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”
(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”
(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”
(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”
(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”
(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”
(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”
(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”
(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”
(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date.
(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me.
(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.
(6:36pm) “Needed.”
(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”
(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”
This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!
***
(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!
(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.
(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”
(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”
(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”
(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”
(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”
(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!
“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”
When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand.
“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”
You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist.
“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
***
“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”
You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer.
“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”
“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”
“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”
You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge.
Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress.
Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath.
“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in.
We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”
Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress.
The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place.
“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed.
Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you.
“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”
Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.
“Yeah…who-who is this?”
“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”
“Were you two not together?”
You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.
“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing.
Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.
“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”
Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room.
“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.
“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”
You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again.
“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”
You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm.
“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”
“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”
Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder.
“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off.
You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.
“What are you sorry for, honey?”
“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”
Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.
“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.
“Because he’s a fucker.”
“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his.
“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”
Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears.
“God, I love your attitude.”
“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”
“Not what we’re looking for.”
Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet.
“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”
You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost.
“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.
“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be.
A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.
“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”
“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”
“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”
Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.
The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin.
“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”
You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.
Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction.
“Please.”
“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”
“Yes, Daddy, please.”
His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core.
“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”
“Can…Can I have you both?”
“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want.
“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”
“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”
You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you.
“Oh…my…”
“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”
Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum.
“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”
They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips.
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”
His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies.
“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”
“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan.
“Take your time, honey. I got you.”
As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair.
“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”
“How does she feel, man?”
“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”
When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.
“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him.
Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.
“Are you ready, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.
“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”
Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them.
“Oh my God. Yes!”
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs.
Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin.
“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”
Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.
“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”
Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.
“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”
“Ok, Daddy.”
After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body.
“Are you both going to stay?”
Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head.
“Do you want us to?”
“I promise I won’t look.”
Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep.
#################
When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home.
You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break.
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side.
“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”
“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”
“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”
“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle.
“Holy shit!”
“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”
“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”
Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar.
Rockstar…
Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.
That voice. I knew that voice.
“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.
“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”
Mogul…
“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins.
As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.
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