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xxkissesforchanniexx · 8 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing: childhood bff!Chan x fem!reader (non-idol au) Word count: 3.4k Genre: Fluff 🥰💖, Smut 🔥❤️ (angst if you squint) Warning: Weddings... (lord help me), pro best friend chan, mentions of familial favoritism, semi rough sex? , soft dom!chan, sweet name calling(babygirl, princess), slightly jealous chan, comfort, lord someone teach me how to make better warnings, i think thats all? (someone needs to teach me to proof read.)

A/N: THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU <3 I'm working on improving the formating of my works so >.> bare with me if some of the stuff doesnt translate over well on different devices, especially the text message part >.>

When you were young, you often got compared to your sister, your sister who loved pink and poodles and tutu skirts. She was younger than you by a year and yet, she always out did you, always was a step ahead, always beating you in everything. Yeah, you loved her, but the pain of comparison drove a wedge between you two.

You were 5 when you met Chan. He was very silly, always playing games and smiling, you happened to attend the same school and after he stood up for you against an older boy at the park you two were inseparable.

Chan, who sang for you. Chan, who shared his food with you. Chan, who taught you how to dance. Chan, who teased you for acting like a nerd. Chan, who was your best friend.

Chan was sitting on the couch in your apartment, watching a cringey romantic comedy with you when your phone rang. You gave it a glance and cringed, your grandmother's name appeared on the screen with a image of the woman with an almost plastic smile.

"You should probably answer." Chan said, "Would make it worse if you didn't."

You gave your best friend a side eye. "Nah really?"

He laughed lightly as you answered the phone.

"Hi, honey, you are joining us this year for the whole family get-together aren't you?" The old woman's voice came through the speaker to your ear.

"Of course Grandma-" You started.

"That's what you said last year, and you didn't come."

You made a face, the reason you hadn't gone was because you were sick. "Things happen Grandma."

"And the year before that?"

You pursed your lips, glancing at Chan. You weren't avoiding your family really you were just... avoiding the conflict that ensued when you were with your family. And by conflict you meant the constant onslaught of questions and disappointed looks you got whenever your family asked about anything you were doing with your life.

"And anyway, it's been so long since we've heard from you, we want to see how you've been, keep the family together, bring new people in along the way." Your grandma sounded so happy.

"What do you mean?" You were confused by the "bring new people".

"Oh dear. Did your sister not tell you?" Your grandma sighed, "She has a surprise for us this year."

You sighed. Your little sister always was one better than you, or two, or ten...

"Y/n?" Your grandma's voice brought you out of your daze and Chan leaned forward looking at your face.

"I'll be there this year grandma, I promise."

"Alright. Bye bye honey."

"Bye..." You said in a small voice hanging up.

Chan smiled slightly at you. "So?"

"Help."

His eyes widened slightly before darting around. "You know I really would if I could read minds but it's awfully sad I cant."

You rolled your eyes at the man. "My family dislikes everything I do."

"And?" Chan leaned back, raising a brow.

"They don't dislike you."

"What are you trying to do here?"

You clasped your hands and gave your best friend the most innocent pure pleading gaze. "Come with me, so they won't hate on me."

Chan made a face. "No-"

"I'll pay for the wifi in your apartment for the next two- four months." You grabbed your friend's big hands in yours, "Please!"

"Just because they don't hate me doesn't mean they won't hate on you." Chan said exasperated.

"BUT they'll find someone to compare to you so I won't have to be put down by this." You give him a pleading look.

"Y/n. I've done a lot of dum shit before this is my limit."

"Channie!" You begged. "Come on! I'll pay your netflix subscription too!"

Chan groaned. "Fine! You're making me feel guilty."

"AH! You're the best Chan." You smiled hugging you friend.

He rolled his eyes and patted your hair. "You're lucky netflix is expensive."

So there you were dinner, with your family, your grandmother quick to jump and compliment Chan and compare your father and uncles to him when they were his age. Everyone complimenting your sister and asking her what the big news was. Your dad looked about ready to leave when your younger sister stood. tapping her spoon against her glass gently.

You looked at her, she smiled at you, a smile you couldn't read.

"I have a big announcement to make." She looked at her boyfriend. "Well.. we have a big announcement to make."

"What is it dear?" Your mother asked.

"We're getting married!" Your little sister jumped and smiled. Everyone started clapping.

The initial excitement and congratulations ended, leaving a gently chattering at the table.

Cue your grandmother.

"Y/n dear, what about you?"

Silence.

Everyone looked at you.

Your sister sighed slightly. "Granny, you can't pester her. Give her time, she might get married before 40."

A soft laugh rippled over the table, you stared at your little sister. She smiled innocently, your fist clenched under the table. So what if she was younger and prettier and more successful. You made a move to excuse yourself but Chan grabbed your fist under the table, you relaxed your grip and his fingers slipped between yours and squeezed gently. Your heart skipped a beat and you looked up at your best friend, smiling.

Her Majesty the Queen 01:53 She was obviously out to get you.

Butt Hunter 01:53 I agree

🐶 01:54 Go to the wedding in white.

Baby Chick 01:54 💀

. Me 01:54 I'm NOT going to my sister's wedding in white!

Beanie boy 01:54 He's giving real solutions here.

Squirrel 01:55 Just don't go?

Bread. 01:55 All you do is avoid conflict.

Squirrel 01:55 NO I DONT

Noodle Spirit Survivor. 01:56 shut up. it's 2 in the fucking morning.

. Me 01:56 Sorry Chan, we'll shut up now.

Beanie boy 01:56 Erm actually it's 1:56 AM

🐶 01:56 It's called silent old man.

Bread. 01:56 LMFAO

Baby Chick 01:56 LOL

Butt Hunter 01:56 I don't think his phone box has a silent button.

Squirrel 01:57 😭

Her Majesty the Queen 01:57 💀

You put your phone down and picked up the invitation to your sister's wedding, 4 months... all you had was 4 months to get someone to go to the wedding with. You sighed, going to the app store and downloaded for the nth time, tinder. Cringing.

You had four months to at least meet some expectations, get a nice guy for maybe a month or two, ask him to be your plus one to your sister's wedding then what? You shrugged to yourself and shoved your phone under your pillow before going to sleep.

Chan realized he was screwed, he watched you get ready for another date.

"Honestly." You sighed sitting down to put on your makeup. "I might just go with a random guy. Or maybe I could take Hyunjin or Jisung."

He pursed his lips. Was he even an option for you? What made this guy from tinder so important you had to doll yourself up to go see him. Chan bit his lip, you were his best friend, he could fix the problem, he could be your plus one, he could ask. but he didn't. He was too scared to.

He remembered his conversation with Changbin and Minho a few days earlier. Maybe he was being too much of a pussy. He'd known you for ages, he knew how you liked your coffee and the music that calmed you down, he knew what part in silly romance movies made you cry, he knew when you were uncomfortable and when you were too angry to speak.

"If you keep beating around the bush with how you feel you might never get a chance."

Changbin's words rang in his ears and he bit his lip.

"Y/n what if-" He started.

The doorbell rang as you finished applying your lip stick. "Oh, I gotta go Channie." You stood and hugged him. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." Chan gave you a small smile and the moment you were out the door he was cursing himself for not stopping you. "Damnit."

Chan wished he hadn't wished you luck. You and Seokmin, your date, apparently hit it off. For the next two and a half weeks Chan felt like a third wheel in his own friendship with you, if you weren't on the phone with Seokmin, you were texting him, and if you weren't texting him, you were talking about him.

It really came to a head when Hyunjin invited the entirety of the group chat to go out for karaoke and you were busy with Seokmin the day off.

It hand't really been his intention to show up at your place angry, just the thought of you not just ghosting him but the whole friend group. He knocked a few times. no response.

Chan knocked again. he still got no response. Sure the key in the dirt of the potted plant hanging under the sign of your apartment number was for emergencies only, but this was an emergency. (to him anyway.)

Chan opened the door and entered your apartment, expecting to hear lewd sounds or... what else was he really expecting. But as he approached your door his heart ached. It wasn't a sound he heard often from you but it was one he could recognize any day. Chan pushed the door open slowly. You sat on your bed, hugging a pillow, eyes red and puffy, tears streaking your face, you didn't notice him until he closed the door gently behind himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You quickly wiped your tears. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Chan sighed. "Come here." He sat on the bed and opened his arms.

You leaned into him muttering, "Seokmin is a dumass."

"What happened?" Chan asked, rubbing your shoulder gently.

"He blocked me." You sniffed. "Out of the fucking blue."

Chan hummed softly. "His loss."

You looked up at your friend, "You're so dum."

"Nuh uh, I think I'm pretty smart princess." Chan smiled gently.

"I don't think so." You laughed softly.

He looked down at you. "'M smart enough to stay your friend."

You nod slightly, "I stayed attached to you at the hip is more like it."

"Didn't have a problem with it."

"Chan." You rubbed your friend's arm.

"Hm?"

"Go with me."

"Where?" he asked dumbly.

You sat up and flicked his forehead. "You know where."

"I don't get anything out of it." He rubbed his forehead.

"I'll uh..."

"Worry about it later." He huffed and stood, smoothing your hair. "Should we get (comfort food)?"

"I was wondering when you'd ask." You punched him softly and led the way out of your room.

The day of the wedding you were wearing a long pastel blue dress, and Chan a matching suit, it wasn't the first time you'd matched with your best friend, but this felt more special. Your grandmother and parents gave you side ways glances during the wedding procession, and once the reception had started so did your grandma's vulture like flocking.

"Y/N i really thought you would've come with someone other than Chan, maybe your sister was right you just need time." the old woman sighed.

You sucked in a breathe but Chan grabbed your hand under the table, his words making you freeze, "Is there a problem with me attending as her boyfriend?"

You turned to Chan and he squeezed your hand as if urging you to play along.

Your grandmother looked at you stunned. "What? Since when?"

"The dinner really opened my eyes, maybe guys don't approacher because I'm around, I do look like her boyfriend don't I?" He glanced at you, "Why not give it a shot?"

Your family must have heard your grandmother's cry because your mother and father came over a few moments later and you watched as Chan worked his charm, a mask on his face the entirety of the time.

Your sister looked between you and Chan, blinking quite a bit. As your parents congratulated you on not being single for the first time, you felt like you out did your sister, you looked at Chan, he smiled gently at you and your heart jumped.

After a lot of drinks and cake you decided it was time to head home.(Chan had to drag you out.)

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, you were too buzzed to speak and Chan was focused on driving.

Chan smiled softly, glancing at you. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

You took a moment before you spoke. "Did you mean what you said?"

Chan's brows furrowed, "About what?"

"Did you actually think of me like that after the dinner?" You looked at him.

Chan sucked a breath, squeezing the wheel. "Would you believe me if I said yes."

"I don't have a reason not to."

Chan pulled off the highway onto the smaller road that lead through the city and to your apartment.

"Well?" You asked.

Chan bit his lip and nodded. "I meant what I said."

You remained quiet until he pulled into your apartment complex. And even after he got you into your apartment. You stood there, looking at... Chan. Chan who knew you better than you knew yourself, Chan who always calmed you down, Chan who got angry for you, Chan who bought you food when you were sad and held you until you grew tired of it(you never did you never could), Chan your...

"You meant it?" You were completely sober now, picking up the conversation as if you hadn't been silent for the past half hour.

Chan nodded.

"Is that all there is to it?"

"No." he breathed, stepping closer to you.

"Tell me. What else?" You asked quietly.

"How do I even begin?" He laughed slightly. "I'm sorry-"

"Why are you apologizing?" You looked at him confused.

"For not telling you how I felt from the get go." he smiled, "If there's anything that makes me sleep at night it's you, if there's any place I feel safe it's with you. You make me more happy than I can describe with words alone, there isn't another person I'd be with in any life." He reached and caressed your cheek. "I wanted to fight myself when I let you go out with Seokmin. I want you, I need you, I..." He paused, scanning your face for a signal, any sign to keep going.

"You're going to shut up now when you're at the climax of your speech?" You laughed slightly.

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "I love you. I always have."

"You're really an idiot." You kissed him gently.

Chan blinked in shock. "I-"

You smiled, proud of yourself. "Now-"

Chan grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours again, you stared for a moment before relaxing into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck. His tongue fighting yours before he pushed into your mouth to taste you, biting your lip gently.

"Wanted to do that for so long." He breathed against your lips, pulling away slowly.

You grabbed his collar. "If you don't finish what you started I will."

Chan's eyes widened and a smirk grew on his face. He kissed you again and his hand moved to the back of your dress. "May I, princess?"

"You may." You giggled as he removed the dress and your made quick work of his buttons before he shrugged off the jacket and shirt, picking you up and carrying you to the bed.

You squeaked as he threw you onto the bed and got on top you. "Nervous?" he asked laughing lightly.

"No... Of course not." You said looking away.

He smiled and turned your head to face him kissing you passionately before he moved to suck a dark mark just next to your jaw. "So pretty, just for me."

You gasped softly and nodded. "Just for you Channie." Chan continued his assault on your neck before removing your bra and smiling at your chest, he kissed your lips gently. "This is my favorite part of you," He moved to kiss your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and biting gently, relishing in the cry that escaped your lips, "But this is second best."

You blushed, "Stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" Chan chuckled against your right breast, pinching the left.

"You-"

"Huh?" He kissed down your belly and bit hard beside your belly button.

"Ow-" You gasped and grabbed his hair.

"Gotta make sure they know you're taken if you wear a crop top." he murmured and moved lower kissing your thigh and pulling your legs apart. "This is mine hm? I think I waited for it long enough." He kissed your thigh before pulling your pantie off. He tossed it haphazardly over his shoulder. He took amount to admire you and you shifted slightly.

"Channie. You're staring." You muttered.

"That a problem princess?"

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes as Chan tugged you to the edge fo the bed.

He rubbed your clit with his thumb applying just enough pressure to make you moan, he smiled. "That feel good?"

You nodded, panting.

"Use your words." He said rubbing your clit a bit faster.

You moaned and tried to move away but his hand came to hold you down. "No, no."

You blushed, "Meanie."

He smirked kissing your belly before slipping a finger into you. You moan as your wall clenched around his digit, he moved it in and out slowly, thumb still working at your clit.

You gasped and bit your lip as he pushed another finger into you. He paused looking at you.

"What?" You tried to move for friction but he held you down.

"I want to hear you."

You blushed furiously, eyes wide.

Chan laughed lightly and started fingering you again, his middle and ring finger curling to find your g-spot.

You let out a loud cry and Chan smiled, he moved to kiss you, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, he started grinding his palm into your clit as his fingers moved deeper. You moaned into the kiss and squealed, legs kicking slightly. Chan slid a third finger into you and you squirmed.

"It's too much!" You whined.

"I think you can take it." He said kissing your neck, "Just a little bit more, princess, wanna feel you cum on my hand."

You moaned louder as he pinched your nipple, sucking on the other one. You gasped as he started grinding his tented crotch against your thigh.

"Are you going to cum for me?" he cooed into your ear. "Cum for me, please, princess."

You moaned loudly as you came hard on Chan's hand.

He hummed and lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean before leaning to kiss you. "You taste good babygirl." He stood to remove his pants letting them fall to the floor.

You moaned at the lewdness of the action as Chan moved between your legs, tapping his cock against your clit.

"I'm gonna make you feel good, make you mine." He said, his voice thick with lust.

You bit your lip and nodded. "Please. "

Chan smiled kissing you gently as he pushed into you.

A throaty moan erupted from your throat and Chan groaned. "Sound so pretty," He pulled out slowly and pushed in deeply, you cried out at the slight burn. "I'm sorry baby," He kissed your cheeks gently. "Can I move now?"

You nod and before you could ground yourself Chan was pistoning into you, fucking you as if he wouldn't get to again. You held onto him tightly, clawing at his broad shoulders. He moaned and squeezed your hips tightly. "You're so tight princess."

He moaned softly against your neck, kissing and biting, leaving marks that would surely become hickeys by morning, as he rutted into you over and over. You moaned louder, panting into the heated kisses he granted you. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall with the force of it all, the sound of sin slapping against skin filling your bedroom, you were positive the neighbors could hear but it wasn't like you had room to care.

Chan's hand slipped between your bodies and he began rubbing your clit. "C'mon baby. Cum for me again."

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he began thrusting into you harder, hitting your g-spot.

"Cum for me princess." He said through grit teeth.

Another thrust sent you toppling over the edge and you came hard, vision going white as you let out a broken cry. Chan followed quickly, his thick length throbbing inside you as you milked him for everything he had. He kept thrusting his gaze distant and glassy.

You whimpered and trembled as he overstimulated you slightly. After a few more thrusts he finally slowed down and relaxed on top of you.

"Let me take you out on a date..." He muttered against your shoulder.

"I'd like that." You said running your fingers through his curly hair.

What da cringe ending 😭 I really want to thank everyone for 100 followers LOVE YALL <3 requests will reopen soon, I'm still busy with school but I hoped you liked this it took really long to make.

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moonlightisdancing · 4 months ago

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Like A Virgin/ j.t.k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI practically smut w no plot, mentions arguing/drinking/parental issues, sneaking out, consumption of weed, pure awkwardness, some fluff, oral sex (m+f receiving), loss of virginity (m+f), penetrative unprotected sex

as always please lmk if anything’s missed

inspired by my dear nick & this song

a/n: sorry if this is kinda cheesy/short/whatever… just needed to write a virgin jake fic

——————🌸——————

“Yeah, maybe we can hang out this summer!”

Those were the last words you’d hear from Jake Kiszka after graduation as he scribbled his phone number and a smiley face next to his picture in your yearbook. He must have known you had a small crush on him that may or may not have developed during senior year calculus after some group work.

His number was saved to your contacts that day but it wasn’t until August came around before you ever texted him, but he wasn’t your first thought. You knew he lived relatively close to you, one block to the left and over the train tracks, all the way at the end of the street. Meanwhile, you only lived a block away from your best and really only friend, Kiera, so she’s who you’d spend most your time with.

Today has been the longest day of your life. A screaming match with your mom over the gap year you decided on last minute, your dad drinking again, an entire summer of pent up anger bouncing around the walls of your home had finally bursted at the seams. You spent all night crying, your mind traveling to the darkest of places. It just felt like you needed a hug, for someone to hold you and tell you it would all be okay.

“Hello?”

It took five rings before Kiera answered her phone. In her defense it was roughly two in the morning and you should have been asleep, too.

“Kiera? I-I could really use your company if you can.” The sobbing hadn’t stopped, the words barely coming out.

“Y/n… My parents won’t let me out this late, you know that.”

“Even if I walk there? I-Kiera, I just need a hug or a blunt, something. And I don’t know anyone else.”

“Well, you know Jake, and his mom’s much nicer than mine.” She sounded irritated but you knew she was trying her best to be patient.

“I haven't talked to him since grad, I can’t just hit him up.”

“Just text him? He posted on Snapchat like fifteen minutes ago and he lives right there.”

“Okay, okay, fine. But what if he thinks-”

“Just do it and let me know, okay? I love you, good night.” She hung up before you could even respond.

Breathe, Y/n, it’s fine, everything is fine.

You: Heyyy Jake it’s Y/n

Jake K: Hey stranger, what’s up?

You: So super awkward, but I’m in desperate need of a blunt and a hug

Jake K: Done and done. Remember where I live?

You: Yeah

Jake K: Come on by, porch lights on

How could you forget where he lived? Sure, you went once for Jake and Josh’s graduation party, but after learning how close your highschool crush lived to you, you’d never forget. You fixed your hair in the bathroom and splashed your face with cool water in attempts to bring down your swollen red eyes. A little bit of deodorant and some perfume would be the finishing touches before returning to your room. You couldn’t leave through the front door, the dogs would bark and it would add one more thing to the list of arguments yet to be had. It doesn’t matter you’re eighteen, as long as you lived under your parent’s roof, it was their rules. You opened your window and climbed out, using the junction box outside your window for leverage.

It takes eleven minutes to walk from your house to Jake’s, where he’s already standing on his front porch waiting for you. He’s in basketball shorts, slip on Vans and a pullover hoodie, and somehow he still looks good as ever. You weren’t half way up his driveway before he began walking towards you with his arms wide open. At graduation he only offered an awkward side hug, so this sure was new to say the least. Jake wraps both his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You inhale his scent, he just smells like home. Not yours, most likely his, but home with a hint of worn off cologne. Your heart begins racing a lot faster than you want to admit as he holds you until you let go.

“Shall we?” He asks in a deep silly voice as he leads you through the gate to his backyard. There was a firepit in the middle of some chairs and a cute little picnic table off to the side. You follow him towards the mahogany stained wood and sit across from him. The only light was that of the full moon washing over everything in a blue tint.

“Do you know how to roll?” Jake asks as he empties the contents of his pockets on the table.

“Uh-uh.” You shook your head.

“S’okay, I can show you.” Jake turns the flashlight from his phone on, handing it to you to hold. He walks you through the process, admittedly you paid more attention to the way his fingers moved than the actual task itself.

You watch as his tongue parts his lips and licks across the blunt, sealing the weed inside. Jake reaches for his phone, his fingers brushing gently against your knuckles. The two of you stand awkwardly from the table, the moonlight illuminating Jake’s soft features.

“C’mere, I know a spot.” He holds his empty hand out towards you and waits until you place your palm in his. Jake guides you to the side of his house and down a tiny path that leads to a creek. There resides an old metal bench that Jake directs you towards. He places the blunt between his plush pink lips and brings the lighter to the end, the red hot cherry casting a golden hue against his cheek bones. A couple silent puff, puff, passes happen before you speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text you sooner. Life’s just been kinda…” You trailed off.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” He shifts to face you, bringing his one leg up. “We’re here now, that’s what matters.”

More silence occured as the blunt was worked down to nothing, but the silence was comfortable. You didn’t want to talk about your problems and ruin the safe bubble that naturally surrounded Jake’s existence, opting to ask him about his plans instead.

“So, is the band doing good or are you gonna go to college?” You ask, matching his stance by turning to face him.

“Band’s going places, I think. I dunno, gotta wait for Sammy and Danny to finish school, then we’ll really know. You?”

“Taking a gap year, but who knows? Maybe I could be some rockstar’s girlfriend.” Sheesh, the weed had you feeling ballsy.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The comfortable silence had now grown awkward as you struggled to even look in Jake’s direction.

“You should hear me play some time. I-I mean if you wanted to I can right now.” Jake stumbles over his words, presumably a mix of anxiousness and marijuana.

“Sure, yeah, that sounds good.” You nod and stand at the same time Jake does, taking his hand once again as he held it out for you. His palms feel warm and clammy, usually you’d be off put but his nervousness is endearing.

He opens the little side door to the garage and flicks on the light. It smells very garage-y, the whirring of the fluorescent lights really tying it together. He walks to the opposite side and grabs his acoustic guitar before suggesting you sit on the couch next to him.

“We’ve been working on this one for a little bit, it’s called Flower Power.”

He plays chords to a song you hadn’t heard, singing chunks of lyrics alike. It was a beautiful song nonetheless, maybe even one you’d listen to on your own accord.

“Wow, she must be a lucky girl.”

“Think so? Why’s that?” Jake giggled as he discarded his guitar. He flicked on a lava lamp before shutting the flourecent light off and returning awfully close beside you.

“Are you kidding me? If someone wrote that about me, said that to me?! I think every girl wants to be loved that way.”

“Yeah?” He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Yes!”

“And what if I told you someone did?”

“What?” Your cheeks flamed red, matching the color of the lamp beside you.

“That’s your song, Y/n.” Jake reaches his hand out to yours again for the third time tonight, this time interlocking his fingers with yours.

“Mine?”

Jake nodded before some force pulled the two of you together, your lips crashing into his. After months of wondering what he tasted like, the flavor of weed and spearmint on his lips was one you’d never forget. The kissing grew quickly heated as Jake’s hands found purchase on your hips, his knee planted between yours as he hovered over you. You found yourself rutting your hips up against his as he did the same, the feeling of his hardening length against your clothed center driving you places you’d never been. The kissing led to shirts being removed, ultimately leaving you in your bra and underwear, Jake in his shorts.

“What d’ya wanna do?” He whispered between kisses, his hands migrating to your breasts.

“Um, not sure… I’ve never-”

“No, me either, it’s okay.”

“I can- do you want head?”

“You okay with that?”

“Yeah,”

Jake sat beside you again as you stood between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees. You’d never given head before, or done anything along these lines. Your body filled with an unfamiliar sensation as you progressed, dipping your fingers past the waistband of his shorts and boxers. His length sprung straight up and your eyes widened at the sheer size of him. Never would you have thought he’d pack so much heat. You gently wrap one hand around the base of his cock, slowly stroking his length as you work your lips over his blushed tip. You watched a few videos here and there to sort of have a general idea, trying to remember anything from those as you bobbed your head up and down. Jake’s hands cupped either side of your face as he moaned and whined before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Is this okay?”

“Mhm.” You hummed with him in your mouth, his dick twitching in response.

“Can I give you head?” He asks, lifting you from his length. You nod eagerly as Jake laid you down on the sofa, kicking off his shorts and boxers. He kisses up the inside of your thighs before hovering over your center. You’re embarrassed by the polka dot cotton panties you wore, but he doesn’t seem to care as he tucks his fingers into the elastic waist. He looks up at you and waits for approval before pulling them down your thighs, tossing them amongst his.

It’s a matter of seconds before his tongue begins exploring you alongside his fingers. Jake’s mouth marries perfectly against your aching bud as he switches between flicking his tongue and sucking. His fingers tease your entrance as he finally pushes a finger in, his mouth continuing its task. You watch him grind his hips against the cushions, his groans growing louder the faster his mouth and fingers move.

“Jake?” You whine, writhing under his touch.

“Hm?” He pulls away, staring at you with his soaked chin and lips.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Bold. The weed was giving you all the courage you could ask for.

“I don’t know where there’s a condom.” He kneels on the cushions in front of you, stroking his length.

“You don’t have one like in your wallet?”

“Why would- I’m a virgin.”

“Right, sorry.” It was kind of implied earlier, but hearing the words leave his mouth felt foreign. It truly astounded you that he was a virgin. People said he got around a lot, it was one of the reasons you felt you had no chance.

“Maybe just the tip? Just to feel?” He shrugged, placing his hands on your knees.

“Yeah… But what if it feels too good? And we wanna keep going?”

“Pull out?”

You knew that was almost always a bad idea, but you let yourself think with the wrong head as you agreed to the idea. Jake pushes your knees apart and slowly brings his hips forward, the pillowy head of his cock rubbing against you. You reach a hand down and situate him at your entrance, bringing your legs up to ease him in. Jake places his hands against the armrest of the couch above your head, his chest hovering over your face as he slowly introduces his length.

“More.” You begged through a breathy moan, wincing as he did exactly as you asked. Jake feeds his entire length inside, his thighs flush against yours as you both revel in the feeling.

“Fuck, this is so… You feel so good.” Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before trailing his mouth down to yours.

The pain of his thick cock stretching your tight pussy quickly subsides as he begins slowly moving his hips back and forth, his lacking rhythm quickly being found. His lips remain on yours, only pulling away from time to time to check if you were okay. Your nails find a home digging into his back each time his hips crashes into yours. With each thrust came the familiar warmth washing over your body causing you to tighten around Jake.

“Are you close?”

“Yeah,” You respond, hardly able to breathe.

“Suck for me, baby.” Jake brings his middle and index finger to your lips, pushing them into your mouth. After you coat his digits with your saliva, Jake brings them to your clit, rubbing circles over your bud. That only brings you closer to your orgasm, one that feels more powerful than any other. The pleasure that rips through you simply could never be replicated by your own fingers again.

“Jake, fuck, mm,” Your moans begin to sound like cries as your body shakes beneath his.

“S’okay, I got you, pretty girl.” He brings his hand back up, wrapping his arms behind your back as he hugs you to his chest. “I’m gonna cum, too.” Jake removes himself from your aching pussy, resting his cock on your belly as he lowers himself and begins thrusting again. It takes seconds for his hot release to paint your skin, being spread by his weight against yours.

“So do you wanna be a rockstar’s girlfriend?” He asks kissing up and down your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin.

“I would love to.”

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themillsdaughter · 7 months ago

Text

a privilege I deprive myself of

Synopsis: you would rather chew glass than see Melissa yearn for something and not have it delivered to her. the thing, however, is that your life is a shitshow, and what was meant to be an act of kindness upends any effort you've made throughout the years to keep your feelings hidden.

or slightly insecure! Melissa and traumatized! reader in a Valentine's Day au inspired by this prompt.

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Talks of body image.

Also, my first time dabbling in this fandom and character, so... Hope you like it!

This isn’t ideal.

Valentine's Day has never been your favorite. Truthfully, you think it’s only yet another excuse for Capitalism to suck some extra cash out of millions of pockets.

You’ve thought this your entire life, regardless of being in a relationship or not. The thing, however, is that you live in a capitalist society and escaping the emotional reliance on the holiday is damn near impossible. So, throughout the years, you’ve come to terms with at least doing something for partners on the day.

Well, that is, until you’d walked in your apartment one day and found your girlfriend straddling a woman you’d never seen before.

This year, you’re single, so the whole thing had just slipped into the background, a red and pink festival more than anything else, really.

“You’re not doing anything?” Janine had asked a few days before in the teachers' lounge, brow furrowed, pity shining in her eyes. Dear God. “You know, Galentine’s Day is really popular now.”

“Honey, I barely want to celebrate the day when I have someone. Why would I make a fuss now that I have an out?” You’d gone back to grading, trying your damnest not to roll your eyes.

“Well, Tariq used to be like that, too. Even though we were together. Sometimes he would forget and go on trips, and those times were pretty lonely… You know, with all the hearts and chocolate and candles and couples around. Not that that’s the case this year, you know. I’m with Maurice, and he’s super attentive.” Her uncomfortable fidgeting had made her chair squeak. As sweet as she is, she should really learn how to stop projecting. “Anyways, I just worry about you. I don’t want you to feel lonely.”

“I don’t.”

“She doesn’t.” Melissa had said, at the same time as you. Looking up from the papers, you’d shared a grin with her. “She has enough wondering thoughts to keep her company.”

Finally, you’d given into your urge and rolled your eyes.

So this really isn’t ideal.

“I think this one is too tight, though.” The voice coming from your phone said. You turned the heat from the stove down, placed a half-lid over the pan, and picked up the device from the counter. On the screen, you saw something that made you pull out a stool from your island and thank God that the woman on the other side of the line was too busy looking at herself in the mirror, brows furiously furrowed, to notice.

Melissa had her hair up in a messy bun, her old pair of glasses hanging in the middle of her nose, and a dark red dress on that stole the breath from your lungs.

The material was soft, with satin-like finish, puffy long sleeves, a square neckline that showed her cleavage to perfection and a skirt that hit her a few inches above her knees.

Nervously, her hands tried to smooth over the creases formed on the dress by her belly.

“Maybe I could wear some spanks” she sighed. “It’s too tight, right?” She turned back to where the phone was, asking you directly.

For a few seconds, you struggled to think of something other than ‘uh’ to say. Melissa is stunning and, in those moments, you wished you’d been braver back when you’d had the chance. Maybe, she’d be asking Barbara this, getting ready as a surprise for you, not for somebody else.

In a breath, you swallowed that feeling, locking it away with all the ones of its kind, somewhere deep, deep in your soul.

“Hun? It’s too tight, isn’t it? Who the fuck do I think I am trying on something like this.” She’d taken your silence as disapproval, and if she only knew you’d only want to see that off of her if you’d taken it out yourself…

“Shut up, will you?” You finally said. “It’s gorgeous, it looks awesome on you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the nicest one of the bunch.”

“I don’t know if I have spanks short enough for it, though. And I need something to get this under control.” She pushed her belly in again, and it enraged you.

“Anyone who doesn’t find that hot is not someone you should listen to.” You said, holding back the rant that always appeared on the tip of your tongue when she said shit like this.

Honestly, the struggle of straight men to like women is mind-boggling.

“You might just be too gay for this.” Melissa snorted, going into her drawer in search of the spanks.

“Well, fuck you very much.”

She barked out a laugh, and you let go of your phone to stir the food you were cooking, glad for a break from the glory of the woman you did not love like that.

Which is yet another reason why this isn’t ideal.

You don’t really care for Valentine's Day, but on the morning of the 14th, Melissa had seemed off. You tried touching on the subject while you two got coffee, as weak as Abbott’s brew always was, however, Gary walked in in all of his mustached glory and her attention immediately shifted to him.

He’s her boyfriend, it’s Valentine's Day, it was only logical.

She gave him hint after hint, pushed her shoulders a bit back, highlighting her breasts just slightly, cocked her hips some while leaning against the sink, licked her lips more than usual, everything to get an ounce of attention back. The absolute idiot fussed over the vending machine, mumbled a few words to her, eyes not even moving in her direction, before leaving with a “see ya later” tossed behind him.

The look that had taken over her face then had made your heart sink.

“He’s been like this all week.” She said during lunch break in your car. “Barbara thinks he might be planning something, says he’s not cheating, but I don’t know… I tried fooling myself with getting the perfect outfit, getting my hair and my nails done, but he hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s been so fucking distant, he doesn’t even seem like himself. And I really can’t handle another Joe situation.” Taking the last bite of the Shepard’s pie you’d brought her, she leaned her head against the rest.

To nearly everybody else here, she shows her angry, reactive, gray side. It’s easier for her, something that still makes her an outcast, but firmly protects her inner-self. But some magical, all-powerful, incredible being out there had made it so you were the one she chose to show her other side to, the one that is not always confident, not in her worth or her looks or her ability as a teacher.

The one that loves so intensely it scares her, and the one that has so many scars she spends half her time trying to heal them, or, at the very least, stop them from bleeding all over the place and being visible to the outside world.

“What do you think?” She said, bringing you back to the inside of your 2010s Honda. “You’ve always been better at these things.”

“Do I think he’s cheating on you?”

She nodded.

“Well, first of all, if he is, he is an absolute deepshit who doesn’t know how to count his blessing for you even giving him the time of day.”

You looked into her eyes while you said it, and she turned her head after, staring at the Tupperware in her hands. You thought you saw a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“But I don’t think he is. Hey, maybe he’s just seen Valentine’s Day for what it is!” You nudged her arm with the back of your hand. “Maybe you’re the one who has to get on board.”

She relented a smile then, but it didn’t last.

“Mel, I think you’ll just have to ride this one out. Wait until the end of the day, so then you can actually have a conversation with him. If he really forgot or if there’s really something wrong, you’ll find out, but, honestly, me? I think he might just have some goofy-ass surprise planned.”

Melissa nodded while keeping her gaze out the window.

There’s a beat, then another, and you thought perhaps you’d convinced her, and she was only taking some time to absorb it.

“You know, you may not feel lonely with this kind of stuff, but…” She paused, voice tired, heart bearing all those tender scars, “I think I’m more like Janine than I’d thought.”

So, hm, this isn’t ideal.

You’d be damned if you let a man who didn’t realize the one in a million he had found ruin Melissa’s day.

Even if Valentine’s Day was traumatic for you, even if it was silly and forced and the world would be better off without it, Melissa was Melissa, and she deserved everything she wanted out of life. You’d thought Gary would see it, but if he didn’t, it’s up to you, even with all your emotional limitations.

So you wrote a little card. Nothing much, just made out of a fancier piece of purple paper you’d had lying around the classroom, with a heart-sticker you’d found at the bottom of your purse decorating the front page. Inside, the note wasn’t all that special, just enough for her to know she would never be alone. That you loved her. That she’d always have you, even if one day she didn’t have anyone else. That she’s your favorite, and if she wanted to, you’d take her out for dinner yourself.

As a friend, of course. Truly.

The fact she made your chest inflate and your pressure drop and a flock of butterflies run a full marathon in your stomach were not things that were included.

After sending the students home, saying goodbye to everyone else (Gregory and his Legos, Janine and her designer bag she knew nothing about, Ava and her many flings and Jacob and his slam poetry), you’d walked to the lounge, where you’d seen Barb and Mel walking towards only a few minutes earlier.

On the way there, you’d seen a bouquet of gerberas discarded on the hallway floor. You’d wondered if a poor kid had gotten broken up with on that day of all days, or if the bouquet held any card of its own. You’d picked it up, deciding to bring it to the compost pile later.

You hadn’t realized how it looked until it had been too late.

“Hey, Mel, I have something for…” You’d started, rounding the corner to enter the room.

“I love you too.” She’d said, looking into Gary’s eyes. In a split second, you’d registered there was something off about her voice, something lacking.

And now here you are, in this less than ideal situation.

All three look at you, standing in the doorway with a card and flowers, calling after another person’s girlfriend. Shit.

“What do you have for her?” Gary’s hand tightens on her waist just so.

So, yeah. Not fucking ideal.

“Hey, look at that. I uh…actually forgot the… ah… The book I was lending you.” You mumble. Spinning on your heels, you walk as fast as humanly possible without breaking into a sprint.

Stupid-ass, invented, asinine holiday.

******

You’re more than half-way through a bottle of Merlot when your doorbell rings.

“Fucking finally!” You shout, jumping from your couch, your belly clenching painfully. Opening up your front door, though, your shoulders drop. “You’re not Postmates.”

“No, I am not. You know what else I also am not? Enjoying this beautiful night with my husband.” Barbara floods you with words, walking past you into the living room.

“Why is that, exactly?” And maybe you’re starting to get drunk, because she seems furious with you, and you can’t remember the last time that ever happened.

“Because I cannot possibly enjoy what was supposed to be a romantic moment with Gerald when I get a desperate phone call from my best friend’s partner asking me if I know where she is.”

It’s too many words too fast, so you sit back down and blink hard, trying to focus.

“What are you talking about?”

“Gary called me. He doesn’t know where Melissa is.”

Melissa. Suddenly, the reason you’d started drinking comes back to you. Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Have you seen her?” Barbara seems to take pity on you, be it for your drunkenness or the way your face scrunches up at the name.

“Not since this afternoon, no. What happened?”

“Gary says she went after you, came back in a different mood. Then they got into an argument in the middle of dinner, because she didn’t seem to be enjoying it, which is strange considering she spent the day worrying he wouldn’t do anything special, as we both know.” She sits down on the futon in front of you. “He says she broke up with him right then and there, and left.”

What?

“What?”

“I don’t understand it either. What did you say to her in the hallway?”

“Nothing, I didn’t talk to her in the hallway, or at all.”

Barbara looks away, shaking her head with an incredulous smile on her lips.

“You two are… God forgive me, but infuriating.” She turns back, sighing. “Did she text you? I’ve called and called, but she hasn’t picked up. She’s not at her house, either.”

“I don’t know.” You pull your phone from the middle of the cushions. “It’s been on focus mode the whole night, I only got notifications for my food.”

“Can you try her? Maybe she’ll pick up if it’s you.”

“You’re starting to freak me out.”

“Yes, well, at least we’ll be on the same page.”

The line rings three times before going to voicemail. Then, there’s someone pressing your doorbell again. Your stomach aches.

Again, not Postmates.

“You’re an asshole!” It’s the first thing out of Melissa’s mouth. As the second person today pushes her way into your home, Barbara jumps up from her seat.

“You’re alive, you’re whole?” She turns Melissa over, taking advantage of the woman’s confusion at seeing her here. “Are you stupidly drunk?”

“Uh… No. Why…”

“Are you going to make any decisions that might land you in jail?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus!” Barbara shouts, letting go of the redhead, lifting her hands in praise, and walking to the door. “Please, resolve your issues and let me have my steak in peace. I’ll call your boy-“ She looks Melissa over. “I’ll call Gary, let him know you’re okay. Goodbye. Also, you’re both on probation until further notice.”

She closes the door behind her with a bang, and the two of you are left alone, staring at each other.

Her make-up is smudged, as if she’d been crying, and that beautiful, beautiful red dress shines under the light. The vision worries you at the same time it sets the butterflies off.

Once more, with feeling: this is not ideal.

It feels like forever goes by, just like this, with neither of you moving or speaking or looking away.

Until she unclenches her fist, and you see your card, the one you’d lost on your rush to leave.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment?” Melissa asks, placing the piece of paper on your entrance table. Her anger, so explosive moments ago, is low and dangerous now, simmering with the hurt in her eyes.

“Listen, I know how it looked-“

“Any other moment.” She keeps going, incapable of stopping now that she’s started. “Maybe one of the endless times when we sat on that fucking couch watching those boring movies you like. Or… Or maybe one of the nights when we spent hours pouring over project ideas or education strategies. Or really any other time before I made the decision to move on.”

Her heart is there, right in front of you, in the tears that drown the gorgeous green of her irises. Somehow, you feel like this is the cataclysm of thoughts and words and feelings you had both held back for years.

“What?” You mumble for the second time tonight.

“I found every excuse in the book to avoid this, to avoid looking for someone else. And some of it was true, really. Joe did a number on me, which you know – which is why that just hurt worse.” She points to the card, bent in half and slightly crumbled. “But most of it was crap, and I knew it was crap, but I convinced myself it wasn’t because you weren’t ready, but you are amazing, and maybe it was better to wait just a little longer to see if you ever got your shit together, if you ever got over what that ex of yours did. But you never, ever did.”

“Melissa, the flowers…”

“Yeah, gerberas, my favorites, I know. That was a nice touch. You probably knew he wouldn’t remember that detail.”

“No, Mel, I didn’t buy them.” You step forward, past the table, close enough to reach out and touch her arm, if you were brave enough. You never are.

“What, are you gonna tell me you grew them too?” She snorts, humorlessly. “You know, the worst part is that you encouraged me. You told me to go after him, to let him woo me. Even this morning! You told me to wait for him, just to pull this crap.”

She raises her hand, wipes her eyes, and Christ, what the hell have you done?

She breathes in, and it would be wondrous if it weren’t terrifying, how she puts her heart away, takes the part reserved just for you to see and hides it from view.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know, and this whole time you’ve been leading me on, never really letting me go, no, but still pushing me away.”

In love you with you. In love you with you.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

It reverberates inside your brain as if an echo in a museum. In love with you.

The person who lights up your days without a fail, the woman who’s made every single potential partner pale in comparison, a staple in your life so important that the mere thought of risking something that could make you lose her had forced you to bury all warm and fuzzy feelings. That woman. This woman. Melissa. Your Melissa. In love with you.

You feel your past is too broken to believe her, but still the thought of her being this hurt is unacceptable.

“Mel, I didn’t write the card to steal you away.”

You risk it now, because you feel her slipping through your fingers, and not seeing her heart when she looks into your eyes makes you feel the loneliest you ever have. You risk reaching over, placing one hand on each of her upper arms. The fabric there is so soft it surprises you.

She flinches, but allows it.

“Just to keep me from giving up, right?”

“You know me better than that.” You try, throat tight. You damn sure hope she does. “I wrote it because you seemed really hurt, and just in case Gary messed up, I wanted you to know you at least had me. You’ll always have me.”

She shakes her head, eyes welling up again.

“What a great pal you are.” Melissa whispers.

“I found the fucking flowers on the floor, I was gonna take them to the trash.” You lose your patience for a split second, because maybe you were tactless, but this is a bit too far, even for such a stubborn woman.

She raises a brow.

“I’m not trying to cover my ass.”

“’You’re the person I think about the most’” She quotes the card. “Did you mean that?”

“Of course.” You say without a thought.

“As a friend?” She challenges.

No. Yes. Maybe. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

If you risk this next step, will you lose her eventually? Like you have every other woman you have loved like this? Will you lose yet another person, yet another soul you feel you can rest beside?

You let your hands travel down slightly.

“Mostly.” She breaks eye contact, frowning. “I cherish our friendship so much, Melissa. But part of me wanted to say more. To say things that weren’t purely platonic. I didn’t mean to steer you around.” You sigh. This is… a lot. “I want to see you happy, Mel. More than anything in the world, you deserve that. And I just felt like allowing myself to feel all those things for you would jeopardize that. You’re an explosive, hot-headed, weird, outlaw Italian with a great mind and a huge, huge heart, and you’re definitely too good for me.”

She shakes her head again, but looking at those amazing, gorgeous, breathtaking green orbs, you find a glimpse of that other side of hers, even if the tears are still there, hiding underneath the surface.

“Today, I only wanted to make sure you would be okay. And I’m sorry about the misunderstanding. I truly didn’t want to ruin that moment for you.” Finally, you reach her hands, and she holds yours back. You fit. “And I have only ever encouraged you to go out there because I really believe you deserve to have the fullest life you can possibly have, and that’s probably with someone… less damaged. Someone good and kind. Someone like Gary.”

Melissa mumbles to herself in Italian.

Forse sarebbe più facile.

“But I don’t love Gary.” She says simply, in English, relaxing into your touch, sending your blood pressure through the roof.

I’ve been in love with you for longer than I know.

“I know.” You say.

You had seen it in her eyes when she’d returned his declaration earlier, the emptiness, the masking, the guilt for lying. She wanted to love him so badly.

She’d looked at you back then and, for a split second, before the confusion and embarrassment that had followed, she’d seemed relieved, as if saying there’s the one who sees me. And something more.

Now, the something more is clearer.

“I know you’re scared.” She whispers again. “And you always, always try to protect me from these things. Never when I get myself mixed up with family business or get into fights…”

“Well, I trust your right hook for that.” You can’t help yourself. She snorts very, very softly, and maybe there’s hope yet.

“But you always try to keep me safe from this, even from you.” Melissa lets go of one your hands, placing a palm against your cheek. Oh, so that’s what it means to have a heart attack. “But I have never, ever, been afraid of your baggage, you jackass.” The spark of defiance that flashes through her expression pulls a smile from you.

If someone had asked you yesterday if this happening was something you thought possible, you’d have laugh them out of the room.

“I just wish you’d given me that god-damn card before I’d wasted this dress on somebody else and had broken a man’s heart for nothing.”

“Poor Gary,” you whisper.

“Yeah… Poor Gary.”

So, perhaps it’s not ideal, with the tears and heartache and being on Barb’s bad side, but she leans up on her tip toes, squeezing your hand, palm migrating down to hold your neck, and despite not being ideal, it does feel oddly right.

“I don’t give a fuck if you hate Valentine’s Day and you think this is corny. You better kiss me before I lose my nerve, or I swear to…”

For the first time in your adult life, you forgo your mind, trying something with risks that may far outweigh the good. With a tug, you pull her in, leaning down, breath catching in your throat when your lips connect, and you find you don’t give two shits about the risks.

Heaven.

Of course, your doorbell rings not five seconds later. Fucking Postmates.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fic #angst with a dab of humor (if you squint)#can anyone tell I am really into sarcasm as a form of comedy? ANYWAYS #themillsdaughter writes #‘hey shouldn’t you be trying to finish that wyp you started 3 years ago?’#yes yes i should but that’s not how the muse works apparently

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megamindsecretlair · 10 months ago

Text

Thinkin' 'Bout You, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Infidelity. FILTH. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), teasing, cum play, dirty talk, degradation kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Use of n-word. Referring to female anatomy as "she".

Summary: As a sneaky link, Stunna is highly demanding of your time. He doesn't care if you get caught; when he wants you, he wants you. He texts you when you're hanging with your girlfriends for some late night fun.

Word Count: 3,637k

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: As with everything else, you can blame @planetblaque for my depraved brain! She encouraged me to watch All Day and a Night since @blackerthings pointed out that Yahya needs more love. He was definitely the best thing in the movie. Grills flashing, hood shit. Yeah, just yeah. I'm also feral and avoiding going to sleep for work so enjoy! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: (let me know if you don't want to be tagged, tagging some usual suspects) @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh

Satan: Come outside 😛🤤

You: Boy nooo 🙄

You rolled your eyes at your phone, not believing the audacity of this nigga. Your girls are laughing at the TV but when they see you on your phone, your girl Brooke smacked her teeth.

“Yo ass always on that damn phone!” She said. She leaned over as if she meant to take it from you but you held on to it for dear life. She gave up and looked towards your other friend, Nandi.

“Girl, you know that man got her on a short leash. Stay checking up on her,” she said.

Satan: come on girl, damn

You: I’m with my gfs!!!

Satan: Satan sent a photo

You had to sit there with a straight face while you stared at a picture of Stunna’s dick. He was so long and thick and veiny. You could picture him sitting in his car, licking his grills while he pulled this out just to take a picture for you. And damn him, you couldn’t resist.

Your thighs were tingling already. Brooke and Nandi were still going off at your expense, poking fun at the idea that your man was constantly on you.

“Like a pimple!”

“Naw, like white on rice!” Brooke said and they howled with laughter.

“Whatever! Ya’ll bitches just mad ‘cause my nigga want it,” you said. You threw a throw pillow at Nandi. She barely dodged it, her large blue bonnet swinging with the movement.

“Look, let me deal with this nigga outside. This conversation too grown for ya’ll childish mu’fuckas,” you said. You tapped on the phone as if you were truly going to call your man. He was out running the streets per usual instead of kickin’ it at home with you.

“Mhm, that dick must got gold on the tip or somethin’,” Nandi said. She continued to howl with laughter, slapping Brooke’s hand in agreement.

Little did they fucking know. You practically skipped your ass outside, the cold chill of the night hitting your bare legs in your booty shorts. The slap of your slides seemed too loud in the quiet neighborhood.

Brooke stayed in the section of the hood where the old folks’ held onto their homes. Sure, hood shit happened around them but rarely on this particular block. Up the street, Stunna’s car was still running with the lights on stark against the night.

He parked away from the street lamps but still you scurried to his car and got in. You were out of breath with worry and adrenaline coursing through you. You hoped and prayed that your girls wouldn’t come looking for you because you had no valid excuse for why you were down the street.

Stunna smiled at you when you got in the car, smelling damn good. Like soap and spice and everything nice. His grills flashed in the low light from the car console and you turned towards him, rubbing your hand on his thigh.

“You are so crazy,” you said.

He pulled away from the curb. You weren’t going far. Just around the corner and down the side alley where the streetlamps didn’t work and the City was too busy to come fix it. Who cared if the hood needed street light?

“Crazy for you, baby,” he said. He pulled over and turned off the car and headlights, already reaching for you across the seat. His hand was hot as he laid it across your thigh, squeezing it.

You were already leaning up, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Sucking on his sweet ass lips as your body tingled all over. Hurt all over. You shouldn’t want this man this much. Not when you were willing to risk discovery like this.

You don’t even know how you got here, kissing on Stunna. One day your man had just made you so fuckin’ angry you could spit. You were out one night with your girls at a takeover, enjoying the music and drink as you passed by a fine, tall man with a wide smile and gold in his mouth.

You fought hard not to do a double take. Because how was this man out here walking freely? He needed to be locked the hell up looking like that. He had asked if you had a man. You told him yes, reluctantly. He had licked his lips and looked at you sideways, “Bet I can do better than that nigga.”

And here you were, months later, still risking it all for the motherfucker. Stunna didn’t care where you were or what you were doing. He sent dick pics at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes he sent videos with him cumming and moaning your name.

Those you kept to get yourself off to. There was something about that needy voice drawing your name out that got you so hot and bothered you couldn’t stand it. You knew it was wrong. You knew he was whole ass married and you were whole ass taken. But you were weak where Stunna was concerned.

Stunna stopped kissing you and moved on to your neck. You moaned but pulled at his dark jacket. “C’mon Stunna, I can’t be gone long. My girls gon’ wonder where I’m at,” you said.

“Let them wonder. You know how long I been cravin’ this pussy?” He asked.

“How long you been cravin’ this pussy?” You asked.

He licked your collarbone, eliciting a ragged moan from your lips. “All fuckin’ day, beautiful,” he said.

He got out of the car and came around to the passenger side. You were kicking off your slides when he pulled your door open. You only had eyes for him as you were unbuttoning your shorts and yanking down the zipper. He licked his lips as you began to shimmy out of them.

He was usually impatient, not waiting until they were at your ankles before he was already pulling you down on his dick. Tonight, he was content to watch you pull them down for him, inch by slow inch over your thighs and down to your feet.

His golds flashed in the low moonlight. He was haloed by the thick foliage behind him. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as you finally got out of your shorts. “Turn around how I like,” he said.

You got to your knees in the seat, struggling a bit to make sure you didn’t fall and bust your ass. He steadied you with strong hands on your hips. He lined you up how he liked and then slapped your ass.

“Fuck, that recoil. Look at that shit,” he said.

“Stunna, come on,” you said. You hated when he got like this. It always felt like all his delaying and talking would certainly mean that you would get caught.

He slapped your ass, hard. You gasped as the sting blossomed into wet hot pain. Your pussy throbbed as you caught your breath.

“Fuuuuuu-”

“Don’t rush me,” he said. You heard his zipper get pulled down and his pants shoved down. You were clenching and unclenching around nothing. You were moving back and forth, ready for whatever he was going to do to you.

One of his hands pressed down on your back until you were leaning forward on the arm rest. Your ass went higher in the air and he groaned as you exposed yourself to him. He groaned and smacked your ass again. Between the sound and the pain, you were going to combust and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“What I say about that attitude?” He asked. His other hand went underneath, trailing a finger through your wet folds until he found your clit. He dragged his finger around lazily, never actually touching the damn thing.

You whined, unashamed as he teased you. “Please, please, Stunna,” you begged.

How the nigga gon’ get you horny and then tease you? You didn’t have all night. There was the distant sound of cars driving and dogs barking. That cold chill was hitting your back and damp pussy and you shivered with anticipation.

Somehow, Stunna was able to get under your skin. It was like he wormed his way into your nerve endings. Everything he did turned you on. Somehow, all it took was a smile from him and you were a dripping mess.

“Please what? I’m over here tellin’ you I missed you and you got a mu’fuckin’ attitude,” he said.

He moved his fingers faster, circling and circling until you were shaking and trembling. You were so close but it was just out of reach because he wasn’t touching you where you needed him.

“Please, Stunna. You gon’ get me caught up,” you whined.

“Good. I should send yo ass back in there full of me. Ruin these mu’fuckin panties with my cum dripping out of you,” he said. He ran his hands along your sides, his long fingers trailing against your rib cage. He moved them higher, gripping and pulling on your titties until you were crying out from the pain.

Your pussy throbbed thinking of going back into Brooke’s house full of his cum and trying to act normal. Sitting there laughing at trashy reality TV, drinking wine and pretending like you didn’t feel every single ounce of his cum slipping out. That you would have to go home like a nasty little slut and clean it all up before your man found out.

You moaned at the visual. Of being so thoroughly claimed by him that you’d feel him all night long. “Shit,” you said.

“Oh, my little nasty bitch like that shit huh?” Stunna asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly dipped in and you reared up, your hand flying behind you to land against his solid chest.

He was on the thin side, with a basketball build, but hella muscles. His abs flexed as you grabbed him. “Oh, too much!” You shrieked.

He didn’t say anything. He just grabbed your hand and moved it as he continued to push into you, getting himself wetter with your juices on every slide in. You shrieked again, whining that it was too much. He was too big and he needed to go slower.

He pulled you up until your back was flush against his chest. He felt even tighter going in this way and you moaned, trying to push away from him. He slid one hand under your shirt to grip your titty, squeezing the nipple hard.

You moaned, the shoot of pain going straight to your swollen clit. His other hand went over your shoulder, grabbing your throat and pulling you even more flush against him.

He hissed in your ear as he started to move more. From this position, wrapped up in his arms, you had no wiggle room to push him off of you. You didn’t necessarily want him to stop, it just felt too damn good. Too good.

“Stunna!” You begged but he refused to listen. He started stroking deep within you. His strokes increased in pressure. His thighs were slapping against your ass. Clapping like a crack of thunder on the horizon.

“Oue, look how well she take that dick,” he moaned in your ear. He kept up his painful assault on your nipples.

You were beyond speech as he kept stroking, his dick stretching you out deliciously. It was like he was made for your pussy the way he fit so perfectly.

“Oue, baby, you feed me so well,” you moaned. One arm was trapped by his, but your other floundered until you rested it against the top of the car. Your fingers desperately scratched against the fluffy interior as he pounded into you.

The wet smack of your pussy made you moan louder, higher, and you were cumming before long. You shook and moaned on his dick while he continued to pound into you.

“Flood that fuckin’ dick, babygirl,” he groaned.

It was like you were just a vessel for him to fuck. A fleshlight. He kept up that brutal, near punishing pace. “Filthy fuckin’ bitch, ain’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moaned.

“Next time I say come outside, I mean that shit. I don’t care what you doin’,” he said. He groaned and shook his hips, finally releasing his fat, hot load into you.

“You gon’ get us fuckin’ caught!” You moaned as you felt him pulsing inside of you. Your body bowed and trembled, feeling so fucking complete you had no thought to how to describe it.

Your mind was always racing, burdened with this terrible secret. You couldn’t stay away from Stunna and hell, he wouldn’t let you. But you lost all rational thought when it came to him. Here you were, having dirty car sex while he calls you dirty names.

His hands had you enveloped in his arms, hand across your titties and the other around your throat. You were able to breathe because he allowed you so. You were able to cum because he was in charge of them.

“Let us get caught then. What yo bitch ass nigga gon’ do?” He asked. He licked the shell of your ear and your eyes rolled back. He was still pounding into you. Still groaning. He rested his forehead against the back of your neck and you felt a drop of his sweat hit your back.

“Huh? What he gon’ do?” He seemed to pound into you harder as if he had something to prove. As if with the force of his hips, he could fuck all the memories of your man out of your mind. That you never forgot who it was that had you crying, begging, and screaming on his dick in an alley behind your girls’ house.

“‘Cause the way this pussy talkin’, she know who the fuck got her actin’ up,” he moaned in your ear.

“Fuck you, nigga,” you groaned.

Your knees were quivering as you threw it back on him. His dick was so long and thick, you were pretty sure he was kissing your cervix. He moved both hands to your nipples and pinched them. He rolled them between your fingers.

Your hands pushed against his chest. “Stunna, shit!” You cried out.

“Gimme another one,” he said.

“I can’t, baby,” you said.

He slammed you back on his dick anyway, the fat tip of his dick sliding against your walls. “Sure you can, babygirl. ‘Cause you my nasty bitch. You always cum when Daddy come around,” he said.

Fuck him, he was right. It was why you were still here, still answering whenever he hit you with that text message. He knew what the fuck he was doing when he sent you that dick pic. You had to quit this man somehow. Block his number or tell him that he couldn’t come around anymore.

You were risking exposure every time you let him take you like this. In his car, in the park. At his place when LaTrice was gone. At your place when your man was out in the streets. In the back of your job when he’d eat you out and send you back inside proper. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other.

Knowing Stunna, he’d just track your ass down. Man or not, he wasn’t going to be deterred. If he needed to be sheathed inside you, feeling you clenching around his dick, then he would slip a damn nugget. He would get bolder, driving past your house and job. Bangin’ on your friends’ door until he could track you down and fuck some sense into you.

That type of behavior was not sexy. Yet knowing that Stunna couldn’t quit you was intoxicating. Knowing that you made him so horny, he was tugging his meat to thoughts of you, filming himself in the bathroom while his girl took a nap in the other room, was an aphrodisiac all its own. You were drunk over this type of power over him but you didn’t need this getting in the way of your life.

You were weak. You did not need your peoples knowing how weak you were.

“Stunna, goddamn. Oue, shit, ouueee shit, ouueesshiit,” you moaned as you came on his dick again, shaking and twerking uncontrollably. Your choppy moans made him groan.

“You gon’ make me fuckin’ nut,” he groaned. Right after, he moaned in your ear, tugging your ear between his teeth. The bite of pain did nothing to stop your orgasm from flooding your system like the sweetest drug.

His cum painted your insides as he slammed his hips one last time, shoving his cum deep within you. You both huffed and panted as you came down. Your legs were veritable noodles, wobbly beneath you. You couldn’t hold your weight up anymore.

Stunna kissed along your neck and ear as he shook himself inside of you to make sure you got every single drop. He pulled out with a strangled groan that made your pussy clench.

He helped you step back into your panties and shorts, making good on his threat to send you back to Brooke’s house full of his cum. You rubbed your sweaty hands on your thighs as he leaned against the car and helped you twist around to face him.

His tongue was long as he dived in to kiss you stupid. He licked your bottom lip and tugged it into his mouth with a hiss. “Fuck, babygirl. You don’t know how long I been needin’ that,” he said.

“Gon’ get me in fuckin’ trouble,” you said. But you couldn’t resist kissing him back. You cupped his face and brought him closer. You remembered once when he told you that he liked when you did shit like that. When you kissed him so sweetly and clung to him like he was the most precious man on the planet.

You didn’t know if this worked because this was so damn toxic or if you two were really that in sync. Should’ve stayed your Black ass at home. Neither one of you could quit each other.

“Thank you, baby,” you said. He kissed your lips slowly. Your phone rang and you groaned, fishing it out of your pocket.

Nandi’s name flashed and you rolled your eyes, answering it.

“Girl, where’d you fuckin’ go? To the moon? Tell that nigga to ease up off your titty and come back inside. This is girls’ night!”

“Yes, momma,” you said and giggled.

“Shit up, bitch, come on,” she said.

You hung up with her and stared up at Stunna. The moon light made his mini afro shine. His wide smile made your heart melt. A bit of his cum leaked out of you and you moaned in the back of your throat.

“There’s no way I can go back in like this,” you said.

You were worried that your girls would smell him on you. That somehow they could smell that you had been out like a little hussy. A giant red A would be painted on your forehead and they would see it on you. Judge you.

You couldn’t tell anyone about this and it was killing you. You wanted to talk to someone about it. Ease this burden you set up for yourself. It was also hot as hell that you had such a naughty secret. That you were regularly getting your back blown out and it wasn’t by your man.

“Yes you can. When you get home and that nigga sleepin’ in yo bed, I want you to take a picture of them panties for me. I wanna see how badly I bullied that pussy,” he said.

You slapped at his chest. “You so bad! Let me get back before they start looking for me.”

He dived down for another kiss, slowly pulling at your bottom lip. “Till next time, babygirl,” he said.

He got back in his car and pulled out of the alleyway. He pulled up back on Brooke’s street, across the way and down from her house. You didn’t see your girls and you hoped that they didn’t look outside for you. You had been gone for quite a while but you also told your friends how your man needed constant reassurance. You could be on with him for five minutes or fifty. So far, they hadn’t called bullshit but it was only a matter of time. You gave him one final lingering kiss before hopping out of his car and scurrying across the street.

Your slides slapped against the ground and then the tile of Brooke’s house as you ascended the stairs. You went back inside, feeling weirdly full and uncomfortable as you went back into the living room.

Nandi and Brooke made no comment about not seeing you outside. Instead, they continued with their jokes about your man. You felt like you were soaking right through your panties and shorts and onto Brooke’s couch.

You spent the rest of the night reliving the backshots you got from Stunna. Nasty nigga. He couldn’t keep popping up like this. There had to be some kind of code or boundary for this shit. He couldn’t keep showing up unannounced.

Satan: Miss that 😹 already

You: Bye nigga 😤

When you went home that night, however, your man was snoring in bed. You immediately went to the bathroom to freshen up. You felt dirty as you snapped a picture of your ruined underwear. You sent it to Stunna. It was late, you weren’t expecting him to answer.

But your phone buzzed with a series of emojis that made you giggle.

You: Nasty ass

Stunna: Should’ve bullied that throat. You got a potty mouth.

Your thighs clenched together as you finished getting ready. You fell asleep against your man with thoughts of Stunna ruining you in dreamland.

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Big Stunna Files #Stunna x Black!reader #Stunna x Black reader #Stunna x Fem!reader #Stunna x fem reader #Stunna x reader #x Black reader #Stunna fanfic #Stunna fan fic #Stunna fanfiction #Stunna fan fiction #Big Stunna #All Day and a Night fanfic #All Day and a Night fan fic #All Day and a Night fanfiction #All Day and a Night fan fiction #yahya abdul mateen ii #Yahya Abdul Mateen II fanfic

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steve-faglan · 11 months ago

Text

Cat // Mouse

Reader x Steve Raglan (William Afton)

TW: NON CON!! DUB CON!! DRUGGING!! HE'S MEAN!!!!!!!!!

SUMMARY: You get a job working for an old man you want to fuck. Are you misreading things? Where did that vibrator come from?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is this considered a slow burn? It felt slow to write. It's supposed to be like will they? Won't they? But it's... Well yeah. Look at this gif??????? My PUSSSY????????

WORD COUNT: so many.

Daddy issues. At least, that's what they call it. That's what your ex screamed at you about before he left you in a state thousands of miles from the one you were raised in. He said it was because you made him feel immature; less than. But maybe he was. All he ever wanted to do was drink and play video games, you craved more.

After he left, you realized you'd have to get a better paying job to cover the portion of rent your ex was paying. You take a day to really let it settle in. You cry and drink an entire bottle of wine while watching Dirty Dancing, and then you schedule a meeting with a local career counselor.

You sigh as you hang up the phone. It's embarrassing to need a temp agency's help finding employment, but you're new to this area. You don't know anyone and you're barely sure where to start.

Your alarm blares throughout your room, startling you awake. You barely remember falling asleep at all, and somehow, it feels like you couldn't have possibly slept enough. You're sluggish and groggy, but you still find the energy to get ready for your interview. You're hoping a little extra effort will get you further in a small town like this, so you spend a little more time on your makeup before heading out of the house.

The drive across town to the agency is quick and easy. You pull into the parking lot and emerge from your car, shielding your eyes from the sun to read the rickety sign that's hanging on for dear life outside the building. You huff, unsure if this was the best place to go looking for higher-paying work. When you step inside the door, a petite old lady greets you with a smile. She points to an office down the hall and tells you to knock.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

You push the unlatched door open slightly and a warm voice invites you in.

"Come in, have a seat." The man instructs. You scan over his office. It's dated, and decorated with styles reminiscent of corporate America in the 80's. You read the name tag on his desk, Steve Raglan. You take a seat in one of the muted yellow chairs opposite Steve and await his introduction.

"Steve," he extends an arm over the desk and you shake his hand, telling him your name.

"Thanks for having me, Mr. Raglan. I'm new to town, well, new to the entire coast, really."

"Wow, a little far from home, aren't we?" Steve chuckles kindly, smiling with a tightly closed mouth, spreading his mustache across his lip.

"You have no idea," you laugh exhaustedly and Steve tilts his head as if he's pondering something, but he doesn't mention it. "Anyways, here's my resume. It's not much, but uh..." You hand him a folder with your work history document professionally stored inside. Steve happily takes the folder and begins to read through your papers.

Your resume is impressive. You're well educated with a strong work streak. Your work ethic stands out to him. He's reading through your accomplishments aloud, commending each one. You're unsure why, but his praise fills you with a very specific need. You crave more and something in you tells you that you'd do almost anything to get it.

"A course in robotic engineering?" Steve's voice sounds surprised. He looks up at you with raised eyebrows. A grin spreads across his bearded face. "Huh."

"Yeah, I actually took a few courses. I never did anything with it though."

"Do you remember a lot from those classes?" He sets the closed folder to the side and casually places other papers on top of it, distracting you enough to keep you from asking for it back.

"Oh, sure. Mostly coding, I guess." You shrug.

"Coding." He repeats to himself, nodding knowingly. He can think of a million places in this town that could use a smart, pretty little thing like you. A strained silence grows for just a moment before he speaks again. "Well, Y/N. I think I have an offer for you, but it's not much of a pay raise like you'd hoped."

"What is it?" You ask, hoping for at least a dollar difference.

"Did you see Mrs. Penneman out there?" Steve points in the direction of the kind old woman who greeted you.

"Mrs. Penneman?"

"She's at the front desk. She's retiring in exactly one week. That position will be open." He goes on to talk about the ways you could incorporate what you learned in your engineering classes as they switch from mostly paper to computers after Y2K.

"What's the pay like?" You ask, already knowing you plan to agree the second he stops talking.

"Not great, but!" He pauses for a moment. "Plenty of opportunities for overtime." Steve's not an idiot. He saw how looked when he was praising you. The way the red in your cheeks was flaming hot at the mere mention of you doing a good job. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves it.

"Overtime?"

"Of course. Switching the entire employee records from paper to digital isn't an easy feat. It's going to take a lot of time you may not have during the work day. Does this suit you or should I keep looking?"

"Oh, uh," you hesitate. Steve stifles a grin as he watches your inner battle decide between being around him or possibly making more money. "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, sir."

"Excellent. You start Monday." Steve ends the conversation abruptly. A jarring switch from friendly and conversational to busy and indifferent. It triggered something in you. A desperate need to get that warmth back.

"Right, okay. I'll... See you Monday." You leave the office, yearning. And Steve is well aware. He sits alone in his office, staring forward as he makes plans for you. He folds his hands together and rests his chin on them as he imagines the way he'll pick you apart like a toy. You're already so desperate for his approval, you've done the hard part for him.

Monday rolls around and you, of course, wake up a little early to get ready. Of course, you don't want to come off as desperate, so you're very tactful in the way you dress and present today, your first day. You've all but forgotten your ex was ever here, let alone the fact that you moved all the way to Hurricane, Utah for him.

Nervous, but good at hiding it, you walk into the building with a beaming false confidence. You're trying to remind yourself that while Steve is attractive and older and something mysterious about him draws you in, you're still here to work and you really can't let rent slip because homelessness is not an option when you're this far from your home state.

You brace yourself for what you assume will be an extremely long day, and you hope it is. Not only for the money but the view as well. When you walk up to the desk, Mrs. Penneman is nowhere to be found. All her belongings are missing from the desk, leaving a generic canvas of an office. You glance down the hall to Steve's open office door.

"Mr. Raglan?" You knock lightly on the door, stepping inside slowly so as not to intrude. He's not there. The entire building seems eerily empty. Just as you turn to leave his office, you run flat into a broad, solid figure. Steve. You stumble before finally falling backward. You sit on the floor for a moment, red-faced, but keeping your composure to the best of your ability.

"Someone's punctual." Steve extends a hand to you, helping you up to your feet.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Raglan. I couldn't find-"

"Mrs. Penneman decided an early retirement was in store. I'll be training you, if that's alright." Steve smirks, knowing he relieved his previous secretary of her duties early specifically to have this time working so closely with you. He dressed it up as a gift to her.

"Oh, okay. Of course. Where should I start?" You smile, awaiting instruction. You cling to every word he says, the guidance, the leadership. The way his dimples deepen when he smiles in the slightest. You become dependent on making him smile simply for this reason.

Steve sets you up for data entry and asks that you let him come check your work every so often to make sure things "meet his standards." You've never been more determined to do something perfectly in your life. With unbreakable focus, you start the first few tasks. You're mindful, double-checking, efficient, and fast.

"Mr, Raglan?" You appear like an angel in his doorway. He looks up from his papers and waits for you to continue. "I finished the first portion. Could you come check it for me?"

Steve smiles warmly as he stands to follow you to your desk. The warmth of his gaze melts you from your head to your pussy.

"This looks great, Y/N. Good job." He adds the last bit just to see the way your eyes shift and sparkle when he compliments you. He leaves you to do the rest of your work in peace, but he lingers a little longer in the hallway, watching you for a moment, carefully hidden from your view.

You pick up on the data entry rather quickly and finish the very last employee record by the end of your first week. When Steve comes to finalize the task, he grabs a chair and slides it next to yours so you can both look at the screen together. You're poised and collected by now, the initial lust seeming to die down after a week of seeing him every day. Though his words of approval still cause a knot to form in your stomach.

Steve picks up on your dwindling excitement and decides this is war. As the two of you sit next to each other, he carelessly allows his legs to take up more and more space. Normally a man's obliviousness in a situation like this would boil your blood, but when his thigh grazes yours so softly, you freeze. His touch lingers and he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. His face is dangerously close to yours. He leans in even closer, boldly placing his lips mere inches from your ear.

"You're a very impressive young woman. You know that?" His warm breath brushes against your ear, inviting a million little goosebumps across your skin. It takes everything in him not to chuckle at your visceral reaction. You're frozen, staring straight ahead, basking in the closeness to this man you desire so badly. A few moments pass and a light chuckle leaves his lips. Still ever so close, he speaks again. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"S-sorry! Thank you, Mr. Raglan. Sorry," you nervously laugh, wishing so badly you could go back in time and rip the sticker off your forehead that says "Fuck me, Mr. Raglan."

"Don't mention it." He suddenly withdraws from your personal space, leaving you clinging to the dwindling body heat he's left behind. His tall figure towers over you, especially so when you're sat. He's gone just as quickly as he arrived and you can't help but feel perplexed. Was he not just coming on to you? Did you project all of that onto a perfectly normal interaction? He warps your reality without even touching you.

"What the fuck?" You question aloud to yourself. Your heart is racing. Your mind is constantly replaying the moment. His voice, his words, all of it.

The next day, it starts as any other. You're replaying the day before over and over again, just as you did when you shamelessly touched yourself last night. The sound of his voice so close to your ear, the way his leg brushed against yours. Just thinking about it feels like butterflies in your stomach.

"Good morning, Y/N." Steve walks right past you. You try to return the greeting, but you're cut off by the sound of his office door closing. He's frustrated, but you're not sure why. Disappointed, but not really the probing type, you decide to just get to work. Today was supposed to be the day he trained you for a "side project" utilizing your coding skills, but you're hesitant to ask about it while he's so visibly upset.

The day continues as usual, though it does seem to drag on a little longer for you when you don't get to stare at Steve. You're straightening up the waiting area, bent at the waist to fan out the magazines. When you stand, there's suddenly a tall figure behind you. Steve is pressing the entire front of his body directly against you. You involuntarily release a small gasp when you feel what you're sure is his half-hard cock pressed against your ass. Steve takes only a second to inhale your scent and feel himself pressed against you before he whispers in your ear once again.

"You're my secretary, not my maid." He steps away and you frown, still facing away from him.

"I'm sorry, sir. I've run out of things to do." You shrug and you turn.

"Out of things to do? Already?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir." Your formality is adorable to him. And something about you calling him "sir" makes him hard just hearing it.

"Well," Steve steps closer to you now that you're facing him. He's so tall, towering over you, craning his neck to keep his eyes locked on yours. "You're such a good girl," there it is. His words make you shudder. There's no way he's fucking with you right now, right? Wrong. He once again creates a gap between the two of you.

"Good kid with a good head on your shoulders. Try not to overthink it." He smirks at your beet-red face and swiftly disappears to his office. You're becoming frustrated. It's as if by the time he walks away, you're so enthralled that you can't remember whether or not your degenerate, horny brain over-dramatized the memory. Angry and even a little embarrassed, you make your way back to your desk.

Steve sits in his office carefully listening to the sounds of your frustration. He loves the way you'd fall to your knees for him right now if he asked, but he likes fucking with you more. He hears you sigh away the sexual tension and he grins. Having this much power over someone like you. You're so smart and beautiful, what are you doing melting in his hands like that? His strong hand finds the growing bulge in his slacks, hoping to relieve any of the pressure he's been building up for the both of you.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his teeth still palming himself, picturing you bound and gagged in front of him. Maybe that's why he's so insistent on teasing you instead of fucking you on his desk like he knows you dream about. Maybe he wants the chase, the restraint. You're too easy, he wants you to be scared.

At the end of the day, you decide to say "fuck it" and see what he'll do if you match his energy. He's grabbing his things to leave when you slip into his office and close the door behind you. You're shaking-nervous, your heart is pumping at an inhuman rate. You have no idea what your plan is until it happens.

"Mr. Raglan, can I ask you a question?" You make your way across the room, passing the boundary of the front of his desk, standing with him behind it. Steve tilts his head in a bemused expression.

"Y/N, feeling a little comfortable, are we?" His sarcastic question leaves you a little more unsure of yourself, and you take a step back. "Ask away." Steve smiles innocently.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but..." You're shocked at how steady your voice is as you fall into this sultry character you've created for yourself. It's never failed you before. "I feel like there's something you're trying to tell me. It's not very subtle." You lean against the desk casually. "Am I wrong?"

"Oh, wow," Steve can't help but grin, but he quickly replaces it with a smug, sarcastic expression. "You must be the queen of subtly, right?" His snarky words catch you off guard. "No, dear. Sorry about any miscommunications on my part. See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Steve steps around you and walks out the door without another word. You're stunned silent and extremely embarrassed. You consider leaving a resignation letter on your desk and never coming back. Furious, you slam the door to your car and drive home. By the time you get to your driveway, you've calmed down and accepted that everything you thought he was doing was just your imagination.

You're still angry, unable to fully accept that you'd be that delusional, but who really knows? From then on, you put away your fantasies and focus on work and getting money set aside for rent. The next few days continue like normal, with no more "misunderstandings" or advances. Until... Steve reaches for a binder off a shelf behind your desk. As he slides in behind you where you stand, right behind your pushed-in computer chair, and reaches his long arm up to the shelf, his other arm searches for a surface to brace on. That surface is your pencil skirt-clad waist.

You gasp quietly, but you don't allow yourself to react any further. Steve has the binder in his hand, but he doesn't remove the other from your waist. He lingers, staring at the back of your head trying to read whatever emotion must be displayed on the other side. You're rigid, like you usually are when he pushes these boundaries, but he also senses your frustration and boredom. He can't help but chuckle as he steps away.

"Thank you, Y/N," he says, waving the binder as he walks away to his office. Did he even need the binder? No, probably not. You huff at your seat, officially deeming him untouchable. You decide he must just be a weird old man that doesn't understand personal space and you can accept that now that he's no longer the object of your desire.

This is what he wanted. Your indifference. It's all part of his plan. As the days continue and your attraction settles to dust, he waits for you to make a mistake, any mistake. To his surprise and perhaps even dismay, you're nearly perfect. Then finally, you accidentally double-book a client meeting that leaves someone jobless with no way to reschedule. You're horrified and apologizing left and right to the man who is more than understanding, making you feel worse.

The man finally leaves, with no job, and no meeting. You sit at your desk and mentally scold yourself for being so careless. The stress of the approaching deadline of your rent seems to be taking a larger toll on you than you realized. Steve's client meeting ends and he sends the temp on his way with high hopes. You wish him a good day and try to focus on your computer.

"Y/N, can I see you in my office?" Steve appears from nowhere in front of your desk. He moves so silently when he means to, it's unsettling. You shamefully look up from your work and nod, following him to his office. You both sit in the appropriate seats and he releases a sigh.

"I'm disappointed in you, Y/N." His opening statement crushes you. "That was a huge fuck up, was it not?" His voice is stern and the use of cursing lets you know this is not a formal scolding. You're in trouble.

"I-I know, but it's the first one I've ever made since I started, sir."

"So that means I should just forget about it, right?" He leans back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him. "A man can't feed his family because he doesn't know when he'll have a ride back here."

"I know, sir. I'm... I'm sorry." You sigh, eaten alive with guilt. "He was very kind."

"Did you deserve it?" He's angry.

"No." You look away from him.

"What was that?" He tilts his head, eyebrows still arched. You glance at him, confused for a moment.

"No... Sir." You add.

"I think you're getting too comfortable here, Y/N. 'It's not very subtle.'" he quotes you and your face ignites with blush.

"O-Of course, sir. I'm so embarrassed. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't be embarrassed. Do better." You nod and begin to stand to leave when he leans forward with a softer expression. "Coffee?"

"What?" You don't even mean to ask him to repeat himself, it was just such a jarring switch in tone.

"Coffee. I just made it." Steve stands and crosses the room to a little black coffee maker in his office that you'd never noticed before.

"Uh, sure." You accept, hoping the caffeine will give you some sort of drive to improve your current work performance. Steve pours you both a cup and passes one to you. They're the same cup, but his looks comically small in his large, nimble hands. You take a few sips of the hot, dark liquid and begin to feel light-headed.

Everything around you seems to melt away. You've completely disregarded where you are or why you might feel this way. You try to stand and you drop the still-full cup on the office floor. Steve watches it all leaning against the table across the room. He nonchalantly sips his coffee as he waits for you to collapse. Just as he planned, the minute you get to your feet, your knees buckle beneath you. You're out before you hit the floor.

"Look at this. Look how little you think of yourself the second you hear how disappointed I am." Steve chuckles as he lifts your unconscious body. You're bound and gagged in the back seat of his '79 Ford Fairmont as he makes his way to an undisclosed location. Yeah, that one.

You wake up with a deep, sharp gasp as if you'd been holding your breath the entire time. Your head is spinning and your vision is blurry as you try to scan your surroundings. It's a dank grey room littered with failed attempts at his "side project" he'd mentioned to you weeks ago. Crumpled endo-skeletons and half-built robot heads cover each corner while wires and bolts cover the rest. Your heart begins to race and you try to rise from the cold, metal table you reside on, only to find that your wrists and ankles are strapped in place with thick leather binds.

"What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you continue to try to wake up. "Hello?! Help! Help me, please!" You scream and thrash on the slab.

"They all say that, you know? They always scream for help as if anyone's coming." Steve slowly enters the door. His tie is loose along with a few buttons, and his sleeves are haphazardly shoved halfway up his arms. His normally carefully combed hair is disheveled and damp with sweat as if he'd been hard at work before entering this room.

"'They?'" You tremble, rattling the metal.

"Of course, you're the first for this type of venture, I guess. Normally I just skip to killing," he chuckles, removing his tie. You're in a state of shock, sheer disbelief. Hearing that last word sends you into hysterics.

"Please don't kill me, sir. I- I won't fuck up again, I promise. Please-"

"Shut. Up." Steve's stern voice cuts directly through your pleas. "I haven't decided yet."

Tears flow steadily down the sides of your face as he begins to grope you. His rough hands explore every inch of you. His calculated hands knowingly leave bruises on your tender skin.

"Please..." You whisper with your eyes tightly shut, afraid of every movement he makes.

"Sweetheart, if this part scares you, I'm not sure you're gonna survive what comes next." He's only inches from your ear as he whispers. Your body shudders with terrified sobs. The cries only get louder when you feel Steve cutting off your clothes. You're too afraid to fight him off, unsure of whether any injuries you may acquire would be accidental or not.

"Why are you doing this? I-I literally came on to you!" You try to find reason in his actions, mostly to distract yourself from the fact that you're completely exposed, the remnants of your clothes a tattered mess beneath you.

"Where's the fun..." he drags the tip of his knife softly from your ankle to your navel as he steps closer to your blushing face. "In that?" He continues, positioning the weapon to stab through your abdomen, should he press down with any effort at all. Goosebumps erupt over your skin. "Now, are you going to shut your fucking mouth or do I need to shut it for you?" He places a gentle hand on your cheek. You nod frantically, looking into his eyes. They look so calm.

You hate to admit it, but the way he touches you seems to attempt to dig up that insatiable attraction you felt for him not long ago. Your fantasies never ventured to this genre, but you used to dream of him making you orgasm. You're torn from that memory when you remember his admittance to murder and how you know that means you probably won't make it out of this room.

Steve places the knife to the side and slowly slips his middle finger inside you. You gasp, and he plunges away, growing rougher with each stride. He curls his knuckles and watches your face closely as your crying eyes roll back into your skull. You yank against your restraints, trying to squirm away from him, but he's ruthless.

"You're so... Peculiar, Y/N." He removes his fingers from you and cleans them of your undeniable arousal with a pocket handkerchief. "I almost caved when you confronted me in my office. So bold. It's been a riot just picking at you." Steve reaches a hand into a desk in this mysterious room and retrieves an unknown device. You gasp as he slips the small, cold object inside you.

"What are you-" your question is swiftly silenced by the small remote in Steve's hand activating a powerful vibration from the item in your pussy. His free hand rubs rhythmically up and down your clit, stimulating you further. Steve stares down at you as you melt away into pleasure, ashamed and silently begging for more. He's laughing at you, hovering his head over yours as you anxiously avoid eye contact.

"Look at me," he demands, but you can't. You shut your eyes. He releases a breathy chuckle and raises the intensity of the vibrating gadget. "Don't start enjoying yourself or I might have to really scare you." You don't want to know what that entails, so you force yourself to look into his soulless blue eyes. The eye contact deepens the red shade that washes over your cheeks and Steve shakes his head, laughing at you again.

"Why are you so embarrassed now? Would you still be this shy if I'd bent you over my desk like you wanted? You're so much tighter when you're scared." Steve abruptly removes the vibrating toy from between your legs. You whimper pathetically in the absence of stimulation. He leaves the room and returns with yet another machine. This one's larger, a box.

He places the box down between your legs, as close to your throbbing entrance as he can get it. The side of the box facing you is adorned with a hole housing a phallic shape made of soft, silicone material. Your heart is bound to give out at this pace. The box itself covers a mass of gears and wires, a motor to power the rod in and out of its destination. You.

"We'll start it out slowly for you, how's that?" Steve presses a button and the machine pushes into you, slipping in easily as your body clearly craves it. You whine and cry out in pain as the machine stretches you out, slowly boring in and out of you. "If this thing's too big for you, what makes you think you could've taken me?" He laughs as he leans against the desk and watches the mechanism fuck you out. Every so often, he increases the speed.

Finally, it's maxed out. You're squirming and wailing in overstimulated pleasure and pain.

"Please! Please, I can't take it- I can't-" your begs are ignored. Steve places a rough hand around your neck, carelessly cutting off your oxygen and blood flow while his other hand delicately flicks your clit. That's it, that sends you over the limit. You climax harder than you ever thought possible, drenching the machine that's still fucking into you as your body quivers. Steve allows you to breathe again and takes his sweet time powering down the penetration machine.

You're shaking. Your tear-stained face is frozen in a look of exhaustion. The last thing you're able to do is move or speak. Your breathing is a plethora of hitched coughs and gasps and you flinch at even the possibility of being touched again at all.

"I think you might be ready now." He unfastens your bindings and takes a step back to observe. You don't move at all, not a single muscle. The truth is, you can't, even if you wanted to. Steve smirks, pressing a foot-lever under the table that lowers you right down to his waist. Two powerful hands hook under your legs and pull you so your beaten hole is perfectly accessible to him. You cry out as he moves you.

"I-I can't, Steve. I-" Your nearly inaudible mumbles are knocked from your mouth as he lands a hard open palm slap across your face.

"You're going to." He makes quick work of his belt and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. At one point all you wanted from him was this, but now you'd rather be anywhere else. Your cheek is ablaze, covered with a spreading stinging sensation. You're too distracted by the pain to notice Steve rearing back. He slams into you at full force, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

"Nooo!" You whine, unsure of how much more your body can truly take.

"Fuck!" He's almost primal when he's inside you, digging his fingertips into your flesh like he intends to take it off your body. "After all of that, you're still so fucking tight."

He reaches to your breasts and roughly gropes at the delicate skin. Your weak hand tries to tug at his wrist, but he simply flicks you away like a pest, continuing the assault. He slams into you, hoping to do more harm than anything, smiling at your sobbing face. Your makeup is a smeared mess and your hair is in disarray from the way you fought back on the table. You look pathetic to him and he loves it.

"You want to be filled up, don't you sweetheart?" He huffs, slowly approaching his climax. Your eyes open wide and a new wave of fear and adrenaline shoots through you, but you're still too weak to manage. Steve easily pins your wrists by your shoulders and thrusts deeper and deeper, hooking his hips to temporarily reach the very limit of your cunt.

"Please don't! Mr. Raglan, please!" You beg between gasping sobs as you listen to his labored breaths become unsteady. His agonizing thrusts lose their rhythm and suddenly you can feel his thick erection twitching inside you, brushing your G spot and carrying you over the edge again as well. You didn't even think that would be possible at this point.

You and Steve ride out your highs. He continues to pump into you making a heinous sound as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. To his surprise, he remains hard, so he continues to rut into your destroyed pussy until his legs threaten to give out. Steve finishes inside you a second time, laughing as he watches your horrified face realize how full of him you are. He's taking his time pulling out of you, playing with your cum soaked clit until you finally pass out from exhaustion.

Steve releases a breathy laugh as he fastens his belt and collapses in a chair nearby. You're lying there, naked and dripping cum from your swollen, demolished pussy. He can't get enough of this view. His original plan was to just get rid of you when he was done here, why not? But this is too much fun for him. Maybe he needs a new pet.

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thedevilsoftruth · 1 year ago

Text

Mirror On the Ceiling ~ Loki x fem!reader

Warning: heavy sexual content. Breeding kink, dom Loki, foreplay and oral ( at start ), reader being forced to look at their reflection while being bred. Side fucking at the end. Minors dni!!

Summary: Loki is your husband and comes back home early after an excruciating night out with Thor and his friends.

Notes: So I have never posted a smutshot in my life, lol. ( Ps, my writing is reallllyyy easy to read ) I have like 12 other Loki smutshots I have written, and I just haven't really finished any or posted them. Anyways, although this one isn’t my best, I just wanted to post this one bc I really liked the concept of it, and I just couldn’t keep in my cluttered drafts anymore. ENJOY!!!

After a long steamy shower, you step out of the bathtub and grab your towel to dry yourself off. The fan was on and the door was creaked open so that the warm air could escape the room without fogging up the mirror. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you dried your wet body off with the towel, watching as the dripping water ran down your body only to be quickly wiped away. You hummed a random tune as you continued drying, enjoying the feeling of the cold air hitting your skin and cooling you down. Your husband, Loki, was off doing something with his older brother Thor and the guys. You found that pretty weird since Loki claimed he didn't like most the activities Thor would do, and especially didn't like being around his friends. But you hoped they were having fun.

You took your towel off of your body, exposing your naked form as you wrapped the towel in your soaking hair to dry that off as well. As you were drying your hair off, you picked up your phone to check the time. The time read, 10;34 pm but Loki wasn't supposed to be home until somewhere around midnight. how were you going to spend the rest of your night without your dear husband? Sighing, you put your phone back down and dropped your towel to the floor. You stood for a few moments and ran your fingers through your hair, deciding that you were going to spend the next few hours watching tv in your robe and in your bedroom. You picked up your towel and wrapped it around yourself once more before leaving your bathroom and heading for your bedroom closet.

Without looking, you tossed your towel into the bamboo laundry basket you kept next to your closet as you fixed your eyes on looking for your favorite robe. The silky emerald robe was nowhere to be seen, however. You furrowed your brows and begun to flip through the mound of hangers and clothes before you felt the air around you change as if someone were in the room behind you. Before you would turn to look, you felt cold hands wrap around your waist and a pair of warm lips on your sensitive neck, all making you jump and yelp. You turned around to see your beloved husband holding you flush against his body with a slightly unbuttoned black t-shirt on. He pulled away slightly and you could see the glint of mischief in his green eyes.

" I didn't even hear you coming through the door- " Your stammered words were cut off with your husbands lips meeting with yours in a passionate kiss. His hands moved to your arms and slowly ran up and down your sensitive clean skin. Your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into his touch, sighing into the kiss. He pulled away from the kiss shortly after and rocked your body with his sideways.

" You're home early. " you said simply, touching his strong arms around your naked body. He hummed, his face buried into the crook of your neck.

" I missed you. Stark was being a big pain in my ass. " Loki stated nonchalantly, pressing small kisses to your bare shoulder as you sunk in his arms in contentment. You gazed at your husband behind your shoulder to get a glimpse of his expression.

" what did you guys do? " you asked as you gave him a kiss you his pale cheek. He shrugged his shoulders.

" Thor made us go to this fancy bar to hang out since we all haven't talked in forever. " he said, his voice muffled in your neck as he spoke in between kisses. You smiled and nodded in understanding as you rubbed circles onto his upper arm. Loki pulled away from your body and let go of you completely.

" I hope you all had fun. " you spoke as You looked back into the closet and began searching for your robe, to which you finally found.

Loki scoffed at that response, his eyes scanning your nude body as it faced away from him, taking the silk robe off the hanger. He just couldn't take his eyes off your legs that flexed as you moved, seeing you like this was certainly a surprise but he did have a other plans for the both of you tonight. A smirk grew on his face and he took your hand and turned you around to face him directly.

" you won't be needing that, dearest. " he said in a low tone as he took the robe from your hand and threw it back into the closet. His eyes didn't move off yours as you both stared at each other hungrily. His arms wrapped around your waist once more, pulling you in for another passionate kiss. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, his lips sloppily moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. Your hands were pressed against his chest now, his muscles tensing under your touch. You pulled away to catch your breath, looking at him in his lustful gaze. His lips were wet and formed into a wide smile, which you returned.

Loki's hands traveled down to the back of your thighs, lifting you up in his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and giggled as he pecked your lips gently.

He walked over to your shared bed and dropped you down carefully on the mattress. He crawled on top of you and his hands pushed down into the mattress taht was covered in black silky sheets. You felt his hips settle against yours as he rested one knee atop your thigh, leaning forward to capture your mouth again. The heat radiating from his body sent shivers running through you. You tangled your fingers in his dark curls, his tongue tangling with yours as the kiss got deeper. He leaned back slightly to place soft kisses to your jaw and then to your neck. Your body was no mystery to him. He had explored you many times before this, so he knew which parts of you that were the most sensitive to you.

Loki parted his lips and abraded his teeth on your soft skin, sucking on it harsh enough to leave a mark. A few moans escaped you every now and then with his lips on your neck, your mind only focused on the pleasure of the moment. He pulled away with a loving gaze, pulling and hair out of your face so he could get a clear look at you.

" My love, you are absolutely stunning like this. " he said, his eyes wondering your nude body like he were trying to memorize every part of you. You curled your fingers around his inky curls and tugged them playfully, causing him to chuckle. His eyes darted back up to your beautiful eyes and he stared at you lovingly.

" would you like to start with a bit of foreplay, my beloved? " he breathed, his voice deep yet tender as it echoed throughout the large room. you nodded pathetically, completely out of words. His fingers went to the collar of his black buttoned down shirt, quickly unbuttoning it to reveal his beautiful torso. You stared an awe at his perfectly sculpted body, his muscular torso that flexed as he moved. His shirt slid off his shoulders and he tossed it off like it were nothing. Never once did his eyes leave yours.

Your fingers slipped out of his hair as he picked you up in his bare arms, setting you carefully in his lap with your back against his chest. He hummed in your ear, his hand moving down to your sopping cunt.

" already this wet for me, my love? " he teased you, his breath fanning across the shell of your ear as he placing kisses along your neck. His middle and ring fingers moved up and down your slick folds, feeling your hot juices dripping down on his fingers as he played with you. You arched your back and whimpered, his lip placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder as his fingers slipped inside your entrance. His thumb grazed against your clit, his other fingers pumping in and out of you for a little while and making wet sounds as they moved as far as they could in you.

" please, " you moaned helplessly, your eyes squeezing shut tight as he took his fingers out of you.

They shifted up to your clit and moved the small bud up and down. His pace was slow, occasionally becoming faster before slowing down and then going fast again.

" ah, Loki…I'm reaady-yy - ha! " you whined through needy moans and a cry of his name. His hand reached behind your neck and flipped your hair over your shoulder, revealing your exposing skin to his hot breath.

" ready for what? " his pace fastened, his voice gravely as he spoke. His fingers continued to move fast and rough, his lips exploring your shoulder and neck, leaving wet trails behind.

all you could do was simply moan and helplessly grab his arm as his fingers worked you into a frenzy. It was pitiful how just one simple touch from him could send you over the edge.

“ please, Loki— fuuck.. “ you panted, hoping your pleas would be enough for him. He growled against your ear, his fingers moving out of you and grabbing your knee to keep your leg spread nicely.

“ good girl. “ he praised, giving you a soft smile while he flipped you over so you were underneath him. His hands rest on your knees while he positioned himself nicely in between you. His head lowered down to your collarbone, giving you gentle kisses down your sternum. You could hear his ragged breathing as his wet lips moved against your sensitive skin. His lips made a series of kisses down your torso until he reached your lower abdomen. His hands shifted to the back of your thighs, spreading them wide enough for his face to go in between. His eyes darted at you through his brows, giving you a seductive stare.

“ now beg for me, bitch. “ Loki whispered huskily, his lips brushing against your sensitive nub of nerves. You moaned, your head thrown back as the pleasure of his kisses and licks caused waves of sensation to crash over your entire being. With the same two fingers from before, he twisted as much as he could fit into your tight entrance, making you moan louder and your hips jolt upward. His lips sucked on your throbbing clit, his throat humming and sending vibrations through your core in a way that made you feel intoxicated with pleasure.

“ L-loki! Please, j-just give it to me! “ you cried, arching your hips with your toes curling as he continued pumping fingers and giving your clit kitten licks. He hummed again, and you swore to yourself he was gonna be the death of you. His lips tore away from your bud and his finger painfully slowly twisted out of you. He moved the tips of his fingers up into a V while they spread your soaked flaps apart.

“ So eager for me to fuck your pathetic cunt, are you? “ Loki spoke with a smirk as he rose back up, magicking his way out of the rest of his clothes.You bit your lip, simply just wanting him to come and destroy you.

“ Don’t worry darling, I’m going to ravish you until you’re filled all the way with my seed. “Loki said, his voice barely above a whisper as he lined himself up with your opening, watching as you looked up at him through wide eyes. You lifted your hips upwards, begging him to push himself inside you. He smirked, his eyes roaming over your body as he leaned over you, planting his lips gently against yours before slamming into you roughly. You let out a loud cry of pain and pleasure, his name coming out of your mouth with heavy panting. The bed creaked a bit with his movements, his hips rocking against yours harsh like he hadn’t felt anything good like this in years.

The sounds of the two of you moaning and groaning filled the night air and bounced off the walls of your shared room. The room felt hot, your body sweating so much already and the heat of his own radiating off and onto you. You dug your fingernails into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to deepen his thrusts.

Loki intertwined your fingers with his as he leaned down to share another kiss with you, but it was rather sloppy this time. You both exchanged moans into each others mouths and you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue danced with yours, your mouths moving together like it was the end of the world.

His hands passed from yours to the back of your thighs, lifting your legs over his shoulders.

Lokis pace increased, almost all of his long length being thrusted into your saturated core. Your moans turned into screams and cries of pleasure. The sensation of his shaft pounding into you was like being hit with an intense wave of bliss, it completely left you breathless. His hand momentarily removed from your leg and covered your mouth, muffling your screams of delight. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, getting the feeling he was moving closer to your sweet spot.

“ Darling, “ You could hear Loki’s guttural voice whispering in your ear. “ Look up. “

Your eyes fluttered open, only to be met with your own reflection through a mirror staring back at you from the ceiling.

“ Watch yourself, y/n. watch yourself as I breed you in your pitiful state. “ He said, releasing his hand from your mouth with strings of your saliva detaching from your lips to his skin.

You felt like your body was on fire. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open, your head cranking back as your body moved back and forth with his merciless thrusts. The man was driving you crazy, the smell of your heated moment filling the air around you and the wet sounds of his shaft hitting the deepest part of you echoing in the room. His hand roughly grabbed your neck, forcing your eyes to open again.

“ Take it, my love. Take every last inch of my cock and every drip of my hot seed. “ He whispered huskily, his eyes never leaving yours. He drove his hips back before making one swift move forward and slamming all of himself into you, hitting your sweet spot in the process and making you scream louder than before. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets beneath you, slowly coming undone all over the sheets and his length ( which was still buried deep into you ) Your body was quivering, your hips and legs jerking as the warm liquid seeped out of you.

“ ride it out, darling. “ he spoke sweetly, removing his hand from your neck and then your legs from his shoulders so you could have control over your own pace. Weakly, you rolled your hips forward against as your orgasm soon came to an end. You felt shocks of pleasure continuing to overtake your body as you attempted to ride out your high. Unfortunately your body felt too weak.

“ nevermind that. “ Loki said with the click of his tongue, pulling out of you and then laying on his side next to you. You whimpered, your eyes opening to see the mirror still on the ceiling. You certainly had made a mess in the sheets.

“ Come here, darling. Allow me to help you. “ he cooed, watching you crawl into his arms like a sad dog. He kissed your temple tenderly and clenched your thigh, widening your legs so he could burry himself into you once again. He needed to finish off, it had been his mission all day long. Even when he was out with his brother, all he could think about was getting between your legs and breeding you so you could bury his child. It was something he had always desired, but today he needed it bad and he certainly go it.

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, letting his shaft to get deeper into like he had you before. Then, he started thrusting again. In and out, in and out. A little kiss here and a little kiss there every now and then. In, out. Your whimpers and cries continued, only letting out smalls moans every here and there but you ached and burned.

Loki promised himself he would be gentle with you for this part and continue to be in this same passionate position, but he was so so close. He just couldn’t control himself from rolling you on your back again and ramming into you like a hungry beast. Your chest heaved up and down as moans escaped your breathless throat, groans and small moans escaped his. Your fingers tangled in his inky curls, his length hitting your sweet spot repeatedly again—a lot more faster than you would have thought. You began screaming again and he helplessly moaned as he finally reached his peak. His hot semen shot into your stretched wet cunt, his breathing ragged as he gripped the sheets and his face buried in your neck. He gave your sweaty skin a soft peck before sitting upright and pulling out, though quickly noticing he was spilling out.

“ oops, don’t want any of this to be wasted, eh? “ Loki chuckled, holding his shaft in his palm to direct the white liquid back into your hole. You reached out your hand to touch his shift cheek.

“ I love you, Loki. “ you spoke hoarsely, still trying to catch your breath. He smiled and took your hand in his, giving your nuckles a kiss.

“ I love you too, darling. “

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so I finished this reallly late at night and just decided to wing it, so sorry if it’s bad and there’s typos and some stuff doesn’t make sense. I don’t really feel like going back and fixing it!!!

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #mcu loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfic #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu smut #marvel smut

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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

Note

Hazbin Hotel x male reader who transmigrated into it.

Hiya! I’ve never done a request before and i’m sorry I got to you late! I didn’t know where the askbox answers went lmao. I don’t mind doing this but this is my first so hope this tickles your fancy and i did your idea justice, im sorry it’s quite short, i wanted to get it out so i didn’t leave ya hanging! <3

Part 2

Summary: One minute you’re living your normal life, the next you’re in a room, in a place you’d hate to admit looked a little familiar from a show you’d watched in life.

Warnings: Male!Reader Male pronouns, not specified if there was a specific ship between reader- so there’s no romance, implied death, flirty angel, niftys bad boy obsession, reader is discribed as a goat, implied to be tall, all direct hazbin hotel characters; charlie, vaggie, alastor, nifty, pentious, husk, angel (all platonic), swearing NOT PROOFREAD, no mention of hair type/colour, bodytype or skin colour. Let me know if i missed anything!

You just got off working, and after a long crippling day of noise, customers, and well work, all you wanted to do was go home and get in bed.

Looking down at your phone you scrolled through your playlist, trying to find the right song, this walk needed motivation, you needed some umph to get you home and not curl up in a ball and sleep wherever.

While scrolling through your playlist, you failed to notice the manhole up head, uncovered and unassuming. Unfortunately, your walking never ceased.

Waking with your heart pounding, you through your legs off the bed immediately standing, but stalling. “Where the fuck,” You gaped, you spun around in a circle, a large click thump following your direction.

Peering down at the noise you gasped, hooves, big ones in fact. You took a few sharp inhales attempting to calm your heart rate down, you scanned the room. It was ruby red, but besides that blank, vacant with the bare bone essentials.

Behind you was a large window, covered with thick curtain. Carefully you stepped over to it, feeling uncoordinated in your body as you did, you pulled the curtain open.

Mouth falling open, throat closing unable to scream as you stared at the sight in front of you. A red sky, the pentagram overhead, you couldn’t believe no way. Trotting over to the dresser, you eyed your reflection, your horrified face looked back at you.

For the most part, you looked as you did before, albiet the new suit, horns, ears, and the slit eyes you had. Turning to an angle to scoffed at the sight of a tail, muttering to yourself you tucked it upward in the suit jacket and waddled to the door.

Sticking your neck out, you glanced left to right, declaring the cost clear, you stepped out. That was until you heard the disembodied sound of a radio transmitter behind you.

“Good evening voyager!” Shouting you turn defensively, and were met by a large smiling demon. “Holy fuck.” You say in awe staring down just slightly at the radio demon you familiarized yourself with.

“Contrary my dear friend! Nothing holy to me! Ha ha, please follow me, Charlie is ever so worried for you. Crashing down through the roof? Quite the entrance I must say.” The radio demon applauded, literally hearing a round of applause surround you two.

You followed as he pushed but you didn’t say much, this has to be a dream? You recognized him from a show, he’s not real. Although casting your eyes toward him as he strolled, humming along guiding you down the halls, you couldn’t deny the reality you saw.

He looked so 3D, there wasn’t anything animation behind him, he was right there, right in front of you more realistic and creepy than anything you’d ever seen.

“Here we are good sir! The lobby! Shall we?” Alastor questioned sticking his cane down the steps, after a muttered yeah, the two of you strolled down together.

“He’s up!” Charlie chortled shaking Vaggie who stood near her at the bar. “Yes i fetched him just as he tipped his horned head out! Impeccable timing, everyone has just gotten back.” Alastor exclaimed, while Charlie skipped up to you.

“Wow, so glad you’re okay! You came crashing through heh, I’m Charlie! So pleased to meet you,” With a pointy teethed smile you nod at her. “This is my girlfriend Vaggie,” Vaggie only grunted at you, arms crossed and eyeing you. Knowing what you knew, this wasn’t surprising to her this is real, and you could be like Alastor.

“This is Husk, he’s our bar tender, oh shit! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel,” Charlie stuttered, shaking her hands around her head jazzily. Chuckling you smiled at her. “Uh, thank you, for everything actually.”

“Ha, you kiddin kid, you fell through that ceiling like it was paper.” Husk gruffed out, leaning forward at his bar. “Yeah what’s that about?” Vaggie suddenly questioned.

“Guys! Intros first hello, okay, this is Angel Dust, another guest!” Angel dust sauntered up, smirking and sticking a claw at the bottom of your neck, dragging it up to your chin. “How ya doing sugar, I’m Angel, but i can be whatever you want me to be.” Angel practically moaned at you, smiling genuinely you chuckled. “I want you to be arms length away from me.”

You said it without any malice or disgust, genuinely enthralled you were standing in the middle of the characters you loved so much. “Ha! Nice try toots! The only way to keep me back, is via leash.” Laughing along with Angel ignoring the disgust from Alastor and the disappointment for Vaggie, you focused back on Charlie who rocked impatiently on her heels for your attention.

“Okay! This, wait where’s Nifty?” Pausing briefly as ever one checked their feet not seeing the little ball of speed anywhere. “She’ll turn up! Anyways this, is Pentious!” Charlie exclaimed moving onto the snake who stood stick straight.

It was evident he was nervous, so you walked toward him with an easy going smile, as easy going your sharp smile could be. “Hey Pentious, I think your fucking cool I love the inventions you make.” As if you presented the snake with the world itself, his eyes sparkled with admiration and appreciation. “Y-you’ve sseen my inventionsss?” Nodding at him with a smile, he perked up, clasping his hands near his cheek.

As he was in the middle of chanting thank you’s, the air dropped and suddenly the Tasmanian devil herself showed herself. Crawling up your body like a tree, the cyclops eyes you with a wicked evil smile. “Ouuu, you look like such a bad boy none of the others here are bad!” Nifty breathed demonically, pushing herself i. your face.

Again you couldn’t be mad or even scared instead you chuckled, Alastor appear alongside you. “Alrighty Nifty darling, why don’t you go collect some bugs to show him! He needs some christening into this wonderful world.”

That line momentarily stunned you, and you looked towards Alastor with a probably harsher look than you intended. “Ou okay, that’s a gooood idea.” Nifty said scuttling off, and though your eyes were focused on Alastor, he wasn’t even aware of you, paying more mind to the room around you.

Charlie looked to you, head tilted. “So mysterious man, you need a place to stay?” Smiling at her you looked around the room, this was an opportunity you wouldn’t miss out on. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #angel x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin pentious #nifty hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin hotel oneshots #vaggie #vaggie x reader

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mylovelies-docx · 1 year ago

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Sorry, I Love You - Part 10

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?! I'm finally posting Part 10 after an unplanned/unexpected hiatus?

Yes. I am. Sorry for the long wait!

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Angst, HYDRA experimentation, mentions of death. (Dear sweet Hyunjin in the gif below also a CW for myself and other Stays)

Word Count: 3,075

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5][Part 6][Part 7][Part 8][Part 9]

You hear Bucky’s key rattle in the front door and the soft snick as it closes downstairs. You’d arrived at your shared home only minutes ago, but that was plenty of time for you to race upstairs, lock your door, and start bawling into the pillow. You hiccup and choke, suffocating the sounds into the cotton fabric clenched between your teeth.

Why?! Why did Bucky have to go and say that shit? As much as you had hoped and begged the universe for Bucky to say those words to you earlier this year, it responds to your pleas now?! You’ve spent months resigning yourself to having him as a friend only – that’s what he said he wanted!

Why would he change his mind? Is it because he’s had a change of heart? Doubtful. Bucky was very certain in his decision to shut you down and out of his life. So what? Is it because you’re hanging out with Petre? Is he jealous? How? Why?

Bucky’s actions towards you tonight make no sense. Why would he say something that he knew would upset you? And if he didn’t think they’d upset you, what’d he expect? That you’d run and leap into his arms, no more words needed? Why the hell would he think that’s what would happen? He can’t just act like he didn’t completely eviscerate your heart that night in the alley and that morning in the kitchen.

Those days are burned into your memory, not a day goes by that you don’t remember the way your words affected him and his response. He was so betrayed and angry that he lashed out at you for admitting that you wanted more than the no-strings-attached, friends-with-benefits situation that you had.

But now – now! – he wants to say you could be together? Together in what way? As fuck-buddies again? Hell no. There’s no way that you will ever put yourself through that pain and hardship again. Not for him, not for anybody. You want something real.

You’d wanted something real with Bucky, but he’d shot you down as soon as you’d brought it up.

Bucky’s footsteps shuffle from the front door and up the stairs, stopping just outside your door. You hold your breath but continue to flinch as your lungs spasm on unuttered cries.

A soft rap sounds at your door and Bucky murmurs your name softly into the doorjamb. You squeeze your eyes shut and keep your voice as calm and level as possible, but it still cracks when you say his name. “Leave me alone, Bucky.”

“Doll, I –”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You respond vehemently, chucking your wet pillow at the door. It smacks against the wood with a thwump and lands in a sad heap on the floor. It looks just like how you feel. “Just go away.”

You can hear Bucky suck in a shaky breath, but you refuse to picture his watery eyes and quivering lip. He has a right to feel like shit, but you are under no obligation to try and assuage his guilt when he’s the one that caused this whole mess.

His bare feet tread across the hallway and into his bedroom, his bedroom door barely making any sound as he closes it behind him. His shower starts up a few seconds later and stays on for nearly an hour. After that, his bed creaks and there’s not another sound to be heard.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

“I need to leave.”

“What?” Nat hisses through the phone. It may be 4 am here, but the team is having dinner together right now back in New York. Nat’s whispering voice is her attempt at keeping this conversation between the two of you while she walks away from the dining room to talk. You can hear her boot-clad leg thunk, thunk, thunk its way across the hardwood floors as she finds privacy.

“I need to get away from Bucky,” you explain further.

“What did that fucker do this time?” Nat questions menacingly, already gearing up to kick Bucky’s ass with no information.

You heave a sigh and watch your breath fog in the air, the cloud hanging heavy in front of your face before slowly dissipating in the humid, cold air. “He… he said something about us. As in, him and I. Like we could go back to how we were.” You bite your chapped lips and worry the dry pieces of skin with your teeth. “I didn’t handle it very well.”

Nat is silent for a long moment, the other end of the line buzzing over the long distance. Finally, she says, “He said he wanted to be friends with benefits again?”

“Well not exactly,” you hedge. “He got all weird and jealous when I was hanging out with Petre last night like I always do. We got into a fight and he said that it could be us sneaking off together like we used to and I just… I lost it.” You hurriedly wipe an oncoming tear out of your eye, surprised you’re even hydrated enough to produce anything after last night’s sob fest. You suck in a shaky breath and continue. “Nat, I can’t do it again. I can’t.”

“I know, honey,” Nat consoles, her voice soft as she shushes you. “I won’t let you do that to yourself again, either. You know I’m here for you – and so is the rest of the team.” You make a questioning noise at that last part and Nat explains. “Well… the whole team kind of knows why you left.”

“...they do?” You press the palm not holding your phone against your forehead, pushing hard to focus on anything but the embarrassment the situation makes you feel. You chuckle humorlessly and say, “Everybody must think I’m pathetic now.”

“We absolutely do not,” Nat states defensively. “Wanda and I were giving him so much shit after you left and no one knew why – Bucky eventually had to tell everyone after I nearly put him in a coma when he finally found the guts to spar with me.”

You do crack a genuine smile and laugh at that. “You’re telling me Wanda was mean to him?”

“Well, I mean,” Nat laughs as well, “she didn’t put smiley faces on his pancakes when she made everybody breakfast. Trust me when I say everyone noticed her displeasure with him.”

You feel the overwhelming urge to wrap Nat and Wanda up in hugs that are long overdue. The love for your friends overflows from your heart and manifests in your words: “I love you guys so much.” It’s no substitute for the hugs you want to give, but it’s all you can offer at the moment.

“We love you, too,” Nat replies. You’re both quiet for a moment, you soaking in the silence of the frozen outdoors and Nat chewing on the question you can practically hear filling her mouth and pushing against her lips.

You sigh heavily. “Out with it, Nat.”

She sucks in a breath before starting. “You know I’m always on your side…”

“Uh-huh.”

“...but are you sure that’s what Bucky meant?” she finishes.

“Huh?” you question dumbly. “What else could he have meant? He accused me of going off and fucking Petre every time we left a room – TMI, but that’s exactly what Bucky and I used to do. So when Bucky said we could be like that, I don’t see how he could have meant anything else.”

You hear a smack from Nat’s side of the line and a grumbled ‘stupid motherfucker…’ before she composes herself and resumes the conversation. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Not particularly,” you respond. “I’d rather you just come and get me.”

“You know I would in a heartbeat, but this mission took a long time to set up…”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “I wouldn’t actually leave over this, but it’s just nice to know that you’d come and get me if I asked.”

“Always,” she says.

You and Nat chat for a little longer before you end the call, citing your need to head into ‘work’ soon. You hang up, feeling better for having spoken with your best friend.

Your improved mood lets you ponder on what Nat was trying to get at about Bucky’s intentions. Does she know something you don’t? The answer is likely yes, her being who she is and all. But if she has reason to doubt your interpretation of Bucky’s actions last night, don’t you owe it to yourself to find out for sure?

Mind made up, you send a short text to Bucky.

Can we talk?

A few seconds pass as you type out a follow-up message, but you’re interrupted by Bucky’s text.

You’re not here. Where are you?

You smile at the realization that Bucky had to have sprinted to your room, saw your empty bed, and then searched the entire house in record time before sending his text.

Your stomach fills with anticipatory nervousness, but you remind yourself that you’ve already gone through hell without Bucky once, so if there’s something in the way of being in each other’s lives you need to clear it up.

I’m getting an early start at work. I’ll call you during lunch?

Please.

***

The morning rushes by in a blur. Your tasks take you up, down, and around areas of the HYDRA facility you’ve never had access to before. You can’t be seen lingering around any certain area, but you take every opportunity to peek inside rooms and hallways when no one else is around.

There’s one particular hallway that catches your attention – not because there’s any screaming or moaning coming from the cells along the walls, but because there is a steady beep, beep, beeping coming from multiple heart rate monitors.

You’re unable to investigate since a scientist with dark hair stands at one of the open cells at the end of the hall. His clipboard hangs down at his side as his other hand rests on the doorjamb as he watches whatever is happening inside. He’s too far away for you to get a good look at him, but his height and build seem… familiar. You stare for long seconds as he continues to linger, wracking your brain for how you recognize him, but footsteps down your hallway cause the man to startle and scurry away in the opposite direction.

The person who scared the man away rounds the corner towards you. You recognize them as the scientist that had sent you down here in the first place. Quickening your pace, you rush over to them.

“Hello, sir. Here are the materials you requested.”

“Yes, quite,” the man says as he takes the samples from your hands.

He riffles through the sealed bags and paper work, a concentrated look on his face. You stand politely next to him, your hands folded in front of you while you wait for a dismissal.

“Argh!” the scientist exclaims in anger. “That absolute buffoon! She can’t even label correctly.” He looks up and pins you with a cold stare. “You. Go collect the bloodwork – and do it correctly!”

He shoves a piece of paper with the subject’s ID number and location into your chest. You reach up quickly to catch it and bow your head in deference. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

He storms off, stomping his way to presumably berate the poor technician who collected the samples the first time.

You sigh, glancing down at your phone. It’s well-past lunchtime and you need to call Bucky, but this task needs to be completed first. You’ll call Bucky soon and hopefully he’ll apologize and clear everything up. The anxiety from this morning returns and causes your stomach to tighten and a lump to form in your throat.

It’s okay, you tell yourself. He’s been trying to apologize since it happened. If he confesses the reason behind why he got weirdly jealous last night, you will tell him that he has no reason to be – that there hasn’t been anyone for him to be jealous over. Especially not a civilian during an undercover mission.

Would that be too much? Would he think that if you haven’t been with anyone since you left that you’re still hung up on him? Even though you told him you’d never actually loved him (a massive, bald-faced lie), would he still accept your words at face value even when your actions contradict them?

Why did he say all that last night?

If he doesn’t want to have any kind of intimacy with you, why’d he suggest being friends with benefits again? Did he suggest being friends with benefits again? It certainly seemed like that was what he was implying, but Nat’s words from this morning makes you doubt your assumption.

If he wasn’t talking about reverting back to your situationship that you both clearly regretted – for different reasons – then what?

Ugh, you sigh. This is too much. You’ll figure it out when you call him.

You find the medical supply closet and collect the needles, tourniquets, vials, and labels necessary for the samples. Looking down the list, you see that the location is actually the hallway you were interested in earlier. Gathering your supplies onto a cart, you head out.

***

You’ve collected two of the samples when you run into Olaf, the contact you last spoke with when you first arrived. You had just left Subject #268’s room and nearly ran right into the man.

“Oh, hello,” you greet sincerely before registering the wild look in his eyes and his bloodless face. “What’s wrong?”

Olaf shoves you back into the room and looks around frantically. “I need to go,” he states, frightened. “I need to leave and I have to take my family with me.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you murmur, setting your hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths.” You show him an exaggerated inhale and exhale, staring into his eyes and trying to calm him down. “Tell me what’s going on.”

The breathing exercise does nothing for him. Olaf grabs your hand and squeezes hard. “They know.”

“They know?” you question. “Who knows what?”

“They know that I contacted the Avengers!” He nearly shouts. You shush him with your other hand over his mouth, but he rips it away and continues. “They know I brought you here and that we’re trying to shut this place down.”

“Hold up,” you plead. Your heart races in your chest at the implications. “Why do you say that?”

“I heard them!” he rasps. “I heard them discussing the ‘rats in the organization’ and that they’re finally ready to get rid of them.”

“And you think that’s us? Why?”

“Why else would they mention my name and the Avengers in the same sentence moments later?!” Tears leak down Olaf’s face and his breaths heave in and out of his chest.

“Okay. Okay,” you say, a million thoughts and plans running through your mind. “Get out of here. Go get your family and run – it doesn’t matter if you look suspicious since they’re already aware of the situation.”

Olaf nods his head rapidly and starts to back out of the door and into the hall. “What about you?” he questions weakly.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll wrap things up here. Just go!”

He nods again and turns to run down the hall, but stops dead in his tracks. A horrible, gut-wrenching feeling invades you. You step out into the hallway and find…

“Petre?” you whisper.

Petre stands there, with his dark hair and clipboard – he’s the one you saw in this hallway earlier. Your brain short-circuits while trying to put all the information together.

You hear Olar whimper behind you. You turn your head and mutter quickly: “Go.” Olaf bolts down the hallway and out of sight.

You turn back to face Petre, his eyes wide and breathing heavy.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him. “How much did you just hear?”

Petre hesitates for a moment before responding. “Enough.”

“Petre,” your voice is hard. “What are you doing here?”

“They…” his lip quivers. “They have my sister.”

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. “They have Sasha? I thought she was just sick?”

“She is,” he says. “They said that they’re the only ones who can cure her, so my parents… we agreed to their treatment plan. But then they started asking for more and more things – things mother and father weren’t comfortable with. But they said we have to comply if we want Sasha to get better – so I came here at their demand.”

You suck in a deep breath. Something about Petre’s broken, dejected demeanor sends a wave of foreboding through you. “Grab Sasha and run, Petre. You know who I am now. I can help you.”

Petre shakes his head sadly. “She’ll die.”

“No. No, Dr. Cho can figure out what’s wrong – she can help Sasha.” But Petre’s head continues to shake.

“They give her something everyday, something that will kill her if she doesn’t receive her next dose at the correct time. I… I’m sorry. I have to protect my sister.”

A tear slips down Petre’s cheek as he begins to back away from you.

“Petre, please,” you beg. “Give me five minutes.”

“I can’t,” he whispers, and takes off.

You curse and start running. The only thing you can do is get to the control room and wreak havoc. You thunder through the hallways of the compound, dodging scientists and slamming and locking the doors that separate different wings from each other.

The lights shut off. A loud, blaring siren rings through the facility and emergency lights flash red. On, off. On, off. Your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, then are assaulted by the light only fractions of a second later – the strobing effect causing the scene to look like stop-motion animation.

You recognize the area you’re in, realizing that the control room is only a few doors away. Shouting and the clambering of combat boots to your left catches your attention. A whole host of agents run towards you, weapons drawn.

You put on a burst of speed, grabbing the control room door jamb and swinging inside. You close the door and drag a desk to barricade it – it won’t hold for long, but it’s better than nothing. You turn to find several men rising from their desks, startled looks on their faces.

Grimacing, you begin the arduous task of taking lives.

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283 @terry2227

Part 11

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #sorry i love you

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imtrashraccoon · 2 months ago

Text

Runs in but trips over my own paws, scattering some papers everywhere

So... I have a new thing that has been taking over my brain... Not sure if I'll end up doing all of the prompts and I know I won't have time to do them all on time, but I want to try!

I decided to take a similar approach to the fic I wrote from the last prompt list I did, Have Some Empathy, Dear. So, rather than write for Classic Papyrus all month, I'm going to split the prompts up among the four Papyri I have created. Some I haven't expanded on much or barely written anything in general, so this is exciting for me! First up, my Underfell Papyrus - Scar!

Thanks to @starlikeswomen for the awesome prompt list! (Let me know if you don't want to be constantly tagged for these...) (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

Edit: I changed the title of the fic as I decided to only do the first seven prompts and I'm also finishing this outside of October.

Next Chapter

Chapter 1: I Guess We're Roommates??

Word Count: 1,884

It was a warm day today but rather than finish unpacking your apartment, you decided to go outside and get some sunshine. You were between projects anyways so it's not like your clients would get upset if you took a break. After grabbing your phone and credit card, you locked the front door behind you and set out to explore the city. Maybe you'd even try out a new restaurant for lunch if you encountered anything interesting.

It seemed like everyone was out and about today, either enjoying the warm weather like you or just going about their business. You didn't live anywhere particularly fancy, but there were plenty of new businesses in the area and your street had become a popular hang out spot for young people. It gave you some hope that you could start a new life here and make some new friends.

The sun was so bright that you almost wished you had remembered to grab your sunglasses but there wasn't anything you could do about it now since you didn't want to go all the way back home. For now, you kept your head down so you wouldn't have to squint constantly, at least some of the taller buildings occasionally blocked the sunlight.

A bus pulled up to the sidewalk up ahead and half a dozen people disembarked. On instinct, you moved towards the buildings so they could easily move past you, but in doing so, you noticed a very tall skeleton in the middle of the crowd. He seemed rather out of place but instead of asking for help, anyone who got too close received a harsh glare.

Despite Monsters being on the surface for quite some time now, they were still a rare sight since they tended to keep to themselves. The general public seemed to like them but you knew there were still many Humans who not-so-secretly disliked them. It just made sense for Monsters to stick together in a world that was still brand new to them.

You waited until most of the crowd had dispersed before attempting to approach the skeleton. He was dressed sharply, and thanks to his sharp teeth, that seemed to be a good word to describe him. Maybe his clothes were a bit too warm for the current weather though.

He had on a bright red scarf, a classy tan trenchcoat, dark slacks, and well-polished leather shoes. He was also wearing dark leather gloves, making his skull the only visible part of him. The most distinguishing features about him were the two jagged cracks that passed through his left eye socket and his scarlet eyelights that seemed to boil with barely concealed frustration.

Just as you were debating if you should bother talking to him or not, he seemed to notice your presence and turned sharply towards you. For a moment, you got the distinct impression that he was evaluating your appearance but he broke eye contact as soon as the thought occurred to you.

"Are you alright?" you asked carefully.

He stiffened and shot a glare at you. "Of Course I Am," he growled in response.

You weren't that surprised by his harsh tone but a part of you wondered if you should just excuse yourself and continue on your way. "I just wondered because I'm new to the city and I know the feeling of being lost quite well," you commented. "If I may ask, do you need help getting somewhere?"

His expression softened ever so slightly but his earlier frustration continued to hold on stubbornly. "No, I Am Not Trying To Go Anywhere," he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow but before you could say anything else, he let out a huff and crossed his arms. "But, If You Do Not Mind, What City Is This?"

You hadn't been expecting that question at all but you managed to keep a poker face rather than betray your bewilderment. "We're in Mountsburg."

His bonebrows furrowed and he propped his chin up in one of his hands in a thoughtful manner. After a moment he huffed again and turned back to you. "I... I Have No Idea Where I Am," he confessed.

You blinked in surprise and looked around but no one seemed to be paying attention to the two of you. So, you moved a bit closer to the skeleton before responding, "I can try helping if you want?"

He nodded, albeit hesitantly, and finally allowed himself to relax some.

Even though you had to basically crane your neck to look up at his easily seven foot frame, you smiled and introduced yourself before asking for his name in return.

He opened his mouth to respond before apparently thinking better of whatever he was going to say. "Scar. You May Call Me Scar," he answered.

A part of you wondered why he'd been reluctant to tell you his name but you decided not to pry for now. You were a complete stranger and he was in a bit of a tough situation after all.

"Would you like to go somewhere so we can talk? I was planning on getting some lunch anyways if you want to join me?"

"That Is A Good Idea," Scar started to say slowly. "Are There Any Good Monster Owned Places Around Here?"

You shrugged, "I don't know but we can find one."

After searching through some local review websites for a few minutes, you settled on one that was nearby with reasonable prices. It turned out to be a little hole in the wall place but on first impressions, it seemed clean at least. Other than Scar giving you the occasional odd look while you were looking for the restaurant, he had no complaints so you decided to give it a chance.

He picked a table in the far corner of the dining room and you noticed he chose to sit with his back to the wall, as if he didn't like the idea of not knowing who might walk in the door. After ordering, he leaned a bit closer to you, resting his arms on the table as he did so.

"I Am Not Sure Why I Am Here," he started to say in a low voice. "But A Small Skeleton With A Large Paintbrush Told Me To Find Someone With The Same Name As You. The Next Thing I Knew, I Was Here And Well, You Know The Rest."

"You just appeared here?"

Scar thought for a moment before nodding. "That Is The Best Way I Can Describe It."

"Can I ask where you're from then?" you asked.

"I Live Near A Place Called 'Surface Home'." When you have him a curious look, he added in slightly exasperated tone, "Our King Is Very Bad At Naming Things..."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Considering everyone calls the East side of the city 'Monster Town', I'm not that surprised."

"Wait, Humans And Monsters Live Close Together?"

"Most live here in the city but I know some don't like living in the shadow of the mountain, which makes sense."

Scar nodded quietly.

"You know, I could try looking up your town or city on my phone. Maybe that could help you figure out where you are?" you suggested.

He only shrugged in response, although you did catch a glimpse of a curious glint in his eyelights but it vanished almost immediately.

Try as you might, you couldn't find anywhere that was called "Surface Home" or even any other instance of the former Monster King naming another Monster settlement. When you tried asking Scar about himself or anything else that might give you an idea of where he was from, he seemed to grow a bit uncomfortable, so you changed the subject and tried to make casual conversation instead.

You learned that he liked animals and owned a small hobby farm with his brother outside of their town. He used to be in the Royal Guard back in the Underground as well, which is how he got the two scars. You got the impression that while he acted tough, he really just wanted to be left alone, which was something you understood quite well.

Interestingly, you caught him closely studying you while you searched for his town on your phone. He attempted to play it off when he realized that you'd noticed his staring by complimenting the burgundy highlights in your hair. Then, the waiter returned with your orders so you brushed it off for now.

While eating, you noticed how he kept looking around at the other patrons. It was casual, as if he was only curious about what they were wearing or the occasional bits of conversation you could overhear. However, you began to notice that he was actually surveying the room for potential threats. When you asked if he was alright, he seemed a bit startled but gave you a gruff nod.

He insisted on paying separately when the bill came around and you noticed that he paid in Gold. It occurred to you that he could have requested a Monster restaurant for this specific reason but you supposed it could've also been for the food and familiarity.

When you stepped outside again, you turned to Scar. "Do you have any social media? Or maybe a phone number I can use to get in touch with you?"

He cocked his skull and gave you a confused look. "No? I Do Not Know What That Is..."

Well that put a spanner in the works. You should've guessed that he wasn't the type to care about what other people were doing online. That left you wondering what he would do next since he was alone in a strange city with no way of finding his way home. This led you to offer something that you normally wouldn't have if he was anyone else.

"You could crash at my apartment for a while until we figure out how to get you home."

He physically balked at the very suggestion. "No. You Do Not Need To Put Yourself Out On My Account."

"You were supposed to find me, right?" you pressed. "Maybe together we can find out why, but for now, I'd sleep a lot easier knowing that you have a roof over your head."

He frowned and looked away. "I Suppose You Are Right..." he muttered. "But I Do Not Want To Be A Burden..."

"Nevermind that," you huffed and planted your hands on your hips. "I've lived with roommates plenty of times and I doubt you'd be half as difficult to live with as some of them were."

Something about what you said got him to laugh. Maybe it was your tone of voice or maybe it was the sight of your much smaller frame glaring up at him like an annoyed chinchilla, either way he couldn't stop the smile that threatened to overtake his usual sneer. His laugh was very distinct, almost comical, like a truely maniacal villian, except he was a well-dressed skeleton who apparently hated the idea of being indebted to anyone.

"Nyah! Fine! If You Are Going To Be So Stubborn, I Accept Your Offer, Human," he huffed, although he still had a mildly amused look in his scarlet eyelights.

And so began the most interesting period of your life to date.

#starspaptober24 #i guess we're roommates??#raccoons drabbles #undertale #underfell #underfell papyrus #underfell papyrus x reader #reader #warm up my butt #i didn't spend all day writing this...no...#you guys will get to meet my favourite papyri!#this plot is stringed together with hopes and dreams #i got this! :D

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nogenderbee · 8 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦- ℕ𝕆 𝕎𝔸𝕀𝕋 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @nenes-numberonefan request: HELLOOO

ima request the same thing i requested @/mizu-nights but i’m a silly goose and i wanna see everyone’s style of writing

basically can i request rui, nene and tsukasa x reader (separate) and they have a platonic relationship with our beloved y/n but then they accidentally confess their love to the reader, sort of like the verse “the time is right your perfume fills my head the stars are red and oh the nights so blue, and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you ❤️” from the song something stupid. thank youuu xxxxxx love youuuuuu 😍😍😍🥶😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍(very hyper rn)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ HIIII!! Yeah absolutely! I don't tho songfics normally tho, so I just based on your description and hopefully that's gonna be good enough!

But omg, the moment I saw this, I wanted to run to mizu-nights and read it because I apparently missed this fic- but NOPE I didn't wanted to accidentally write the same thing sooo I held myself back ^^

I totally did not copy lines from event for Tsukasa part-

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

Affiliation with @virtualbookstore

You've agreed to help Tsukasa with practicing for his upcoming performance, Romeo&Julia. He got the role of Romeo while his other friend from troupe got Julia. He just wanted someone to help him get that feeling of saying it right to soemone's face and... maybe he had planned something more too?

"O Juliet! Sun of my life! I beg of you, allow me your fair hand in marriage!!"

He was now on his one knee, holding your hand like pure gentleman with his left hand. This made you both happy and regretful for agreeing to help him... it's obviously very sweet to see him like this but it's also not helping your feelings for him... and you could swear you're blushing...

"Sweet Y/N...!"

But then he said your name... and you finally looked at him just to see him clearly in state of daydreaming, not stopping reciting next lines, so you had to stop him before he gives more hints than you can handle!

"Wait, wait... wasn't the second main character's name Juliet? Why did you say my name...?"

His face immidietly gained red hue and his hand didn't stop holding your gently. His eyes still looked focused on yours as if he haven't woke up from his dreamland, but his words told you his state was something completely else than you imagined...

"Y-Yes I know..."

You could only stare at him in slight shock... you didn't knew what to say and so did he. He was barely holding himself from turning it into a play someway... but he repeated one sentence in his head, "go big or go home", if he blurted it out, might as well go along?

"O Y/N, sun of my life, I beg of you, allow me to take you on a date!"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bad-the-an-enjoyer @yulikesminori @alicewinterway18 @nenes-numberonefan - come get your future star!

You and Nene were hanging out on a rooftop at Kamiyama. Even if you're from Miyamasuzaka, let's say Emu teached you a trick or two~ So either way, you can enjoy your time with your dear friend!

You leaned in, wanting to see what she's playing and for once, instead of seeing shooting or rhythm game, you found her playing some... visual novel? Or was it otome game?

"Hey Nene? Are you playing... otome game?"

"Mhm, yeah."

She responded, clearly way into the game to process what she's saying. But that never was a problem for you since she still responded and was honest if anything when she was in this state.

"Look, you can even name your love interest~"

You looked at the screen with even more interest and saw 2 names... "Nene" and "Y/N". You get why her name would be here but yours? Were you... no way, right?

"Is... is Y/N the name of your... ingame love interest?"

"Yeah, real love interest too."

She finally looked up from her phone right at you with this soft and charming smile, when she saw your blush she was even confused for a second! Untill she realized... she just blurted it out, didn't she?

"Oh- uh- I mean... not like... Like..."

Now it was her blushing like crazy not knowing what to say... she was clearly between 2 thoguhts and had no idea which to choose... oh did you know it was all about if she should tell you the truth or a lie...

"Am I actually~?"

You couldn't help but encourage her a bit, hoping to hear the truth. If she actually saw YOU as the love interest, the real one! Or... if it's just a misunderstanding...

And luckily, you didn't had to wait for long because right after your question, she gave you a little nod, easy to miss if you blinked... but her blushing face and the way she looked away would tell you it either way~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bl4cktourmaline @nenes-numberonefan - come get your shy gamer~

Rui has texted you he forgot his coat from his house. And you as good friend, agreed to bring it to Pheonix Wonderland. He made sure you get a free ticket after all! So how could you say no to free fun at amusement park AND helping out your dear friend?

When you finally arrived at the Wonder Stage, you saw him tinkering with the robot, untill he heard someone's footsteps... his mood immidietly lighting up once he saw it's you!

"You're finally here! And I see you got my coat with you~ I can't express how glad I am for your help~"

"Don't mention it! You offered me a free ticket for that so how could I've said now?!"

He chuckled and finally came over to get his coat back, which you gave him back. And in another second, he had it on!

"But still, you're a great person for bringing it to me at THIS HOUR."

"Awh~ Don't you melt here or I'm gonna melt too!"

You couldn't brush off how sweet it was and opened your arms for quick friendly hug, since you clearly had a bit of appreciation moment going on.

"No, I mean it... you're such a sweetheart... I really couldn't avoid falling for you~"

"Huh-? What?"

After your questioning, he finally got a hang of himself pulling away with faint blush, clearly not knowing what to do. But his first reflex was to lie...

"I-I mean..."

But he seemed to stop himself... he realized lying would only make it last longer... so he decided to pull himself together, take big breath in and take the risk.

"Yes... I'm really sorry. I'm aware this is probably gonna break our friendship but... I indeed did fell for you..."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @yulikesminori @toyaswif3y @bl4cktourmaline @r4wrclwz @superstar-ethereal - come get your crazy inventor~

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lunarbuck · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Week 1: Phone Sex

header: @jen-with-a-pen

Pairing: Sam Wilson x f!reader (any race)

Word Count: 692

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: phone sex, swearing, masturbation, pet names [baby, sweetheart]

my masterlist | kinktober masterlist | @lunarbucklibrary

Your phone rings, and you look around on the bed for the offending device. You try to have at least two hours of screen-free time a day, and today, you’ve spent that time reading. Your book rests against your chest as you see Sam’s photo flash on your screen.

“Hello,” you grin. When Sam is off on a mission, he rarely has time to call, so you relish each opportunity to hear his voice.

“Hey, cutie, what’re you up to?” You can hear the roar of an engine in the background. He probably just got off the jet. Heat blooms in your chest, knowing that his first thought was to call you.

“Trying and failing to curb my screen addiction, what about you?” Sam laughs, the sound warm despite some distortion from the speaker.

“Just thinkin’ about my girl.” You don’t miss the slight rasp in his voice, the way he practically growls the words. That heat in your chest migrates, warming you all the way to your belly. You press your thighs together, giving your clit the slightest bit of friction.

“Yeah? What about me?” Through the phone, you can hear Sam’s footsteps pick up speed before a door slams shut. His breaths come out ragged and rushed. He’s just as worked up as you are. Your book slides off your chest, falling shut, but you barely even notice.

“Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” A smile tugs at your lips while you trail your fingers down your body underneath the blanket. “I’m thinking about your perfect body, your soft skin. The way you fit so perfectly against me.” You trace the band of your sleep shorts, gently teasing yourself the way Sam always does. It’s not quite the same, but with the rasp of his voice in your ear, you can almost imagine that he’s here.

“I wish you were here,” you whisper, dipping your fingers into your shorts to slide over the fabric of your panties.

“Me too, baby. I’m so fucking hard right now. I love the way you suck my cock. Love how you look with my dick in your mouth, so fucking beautiful.” You hear the snick of a zipper on the other end and shuffle your shorts down your legs. “Are you gonna touch yourself, baby? You gonna make yourself feel good until I get home?”

You whimper in response, circling your clit with your finger.

“Such a good girl for me, sweetie. If I were there, you know I’d be in between your legs, eating that perfect pussy of yours. I’d slide my fingers inside and warm you up for my cock just the way you like.” Your fingers follow your imagination, pressing inside your warm entrance. They’re not as big as Sam’s, but you still moan when you hit those spots.

“You sound so beautiful, baby. Keep fucking yourself on your fingers, just like that. I’m aching for you, sweetheart.” Your fingers are slick as they slide in and out of your pussy, but you want more. You manage to hit the speaker button and position your phone on your pillow to free up your other hand. You circle your clit while you fuck yourself, the sensations slowly working you toward your orgasm.

“Sam, I need you,” you moan, wishing it was his cock filling you, stretching you. You wish he was here, pressing you down into the mattress with his big, calloused hands. You wish you were grabbing onto his muscular shoulders, hanging onto him for dear life.

“I need you too, baby. I need you to come for me, please, baby. Need to hear you come.” You apply more pressure to your clit, imagining it’s Sam, and you screw your eyes shut. His cologne lingers on the pillow, and you inhale deeply as your orgasm barrels toward you.

You come moaning his name, electricity shooting through your body. Sam follows close behind, rasping your name as he comes. You suck in deep breaths and go limp against the mattress.

“Shit,” you giggle, smiling to yourself. “Somehow, I miss you even more now.”

“I’ll be home soon, baby. Promise.”

i am discontinuing my taglist. please follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when i post new writing. must be 18+

#jane’s writing #kinktober 2023 #fawktober 2023 #sam wilson #sam wilson x f!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x fem!reader #sam wilson fic #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson captain america #sam wilson fanfiction #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson au #sam wilson marvel #captain america x reader #captain america x f!reader #fem!reader

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iaminfamous · 13 days ago

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ghostface x milf!reader

i hope yall enjoy this just as much as i enjoyed writing it ❤️

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings ; nsfw, dom/sub dynamics, slight dubious consent, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, cheating, breaking in, creampie, counter sex, multiple orgasms.

MINORS DNI

You’re a lonely housewife, who does her best to wait for her husband’s return for work every night. Currently cleaning the kitchen, a yawn escapes you as the night drags on. It’s so late, and you’re already so tired.

So tired that you may have forgotten to lock your doors. You’re practically passing out on the counter in the kitchen, rag in hand. You jolt awake at the blaring ringing of the phone across the room.

Groggy, you pick up your phone, putting it up to your ear. “Hello..?” You expect it to be your husband, but the line is quiet. “Hello……?” You drag, a bit annoyed.

Now, Ghostface has been watching you for a while. Loves how fat your ass is, and how big your breasts are. But, the thing he loves the most, is the innocent look in your eyes. Your cute fucking face that he’s been waiting to make cry. He watches through the window as you hang up the call, and continue cleaning. Hardly a minute later, and he’s creeping inside.

Back turned to him, you gasp as suddenly your hair is gripped, and your body is bent over the counter you were scrubbing. A scream, as the shock hits you, and suddenly a gloved hand covers your mouth. “Let’s use our inside voices, mm?” His voice is so deep, sending a shiver down your spine. “I wouldn’t want to have to kill you.”

You know his threat is real, feel it in your spine. A whimper escapes you at his words, whining at the rough grip in your hair, and the way your huge breasts are forced against the cold counter. Your thin pajama shirt hardly does a good enough job of keeping your slowly hardening nipples warm. “Mmph!” You shutter, gripping the counter for dear life.

You feel tears brim your eyes as an overwhelming amount of fear floods you, and your legs begin to shake. Is he going to kill you? You have a husband—A family! You can’t stop shaking as his large body presses against your back.

He chuckles darkly, loving the feeling of your trembling body beneath his firm grip. His other hand slowly trails down your side, savoring your curves. “Shhhh, no need for all that fuss now. I just want to play a little game.”

He leans in close, his masked face mere inches from yours. The white porcelain gleams in the dim light of the kitchen. “Tell me, Darling... what's a sexy woman like you doing all alone at this hour? Waiting for daddy to come home?” His voice drips with mock sympathy and cruel amusement. “Such a shame he isn’t here to protect you. Now I get to have my way with you.”

His hand slides around to your front, boldly cupping one of your heavy breasts. He squeezes roughly, thumbing your stiff nipple through the thin fabric of your pajamas. “These tits though... fuck. All laid out on this counter for me—such a good girl.”

You moan out as he begins touching your sensitive nipples, squirming underneath him as you attempt to pull away, stopped by the counter. His hand slips from covering your mouth to fondle both of your large breasts, and you can’t help but whine. “Please- No! I- I have a husband!” You plead.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched, husband so busy with work, that your body craves it. Your pussy is becoming wet at another man’s touch, slicking up your panties. Another sob escapes you, and you begin begging more desperately. “Please.. Please..!”

He laughs cruelly at your pleas, continuing to grope and knead your soft flesh. “A husband, huh? Well, where is he then? Leaving such a delectable woman all alone?”

His hands slide under your shirt, pushing the flimsy material up to expose your bare breasts. He pinches and tugs at your sensitive nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Fuck, look at these perfect tits... Barely fit in my hand.”

Suddenly, he spins you around to face him, slamming you back against the counter. One hand wraps around your throat while the other pushes your pajama shorts aside. “You’re dripping.” He groans out as he runs a finger along your clothed slit, voice muffled behind the mask.

He grinds his hard bulge against your clothed, practically soaked pussy. You gasp and choke as his gloved hand wraps around your throat, gripping his wrist as you try desperately to pull him off. You moan brokenly as his cock rubs against your panties, legs shaking.

The counter is cold underneath you. You stare into the soulless eyes of his mask, vision blurring. Tears fall down your cheeks. “Nnn—Please—“ You struggle to speak as your head becomes light, eyes rolling back as it becomes harder to breathe.

He tightens his grip on your throat, cutting off your air supply even more as he grinds harder against your wet panties. “That's it, bitch. Struggle for me. It only makes this game more fun.”

With his free hand, he pulls down your shorts, and rips your soaked underwear away, exposing your glistening folds to the cool air of the kitchen. Two thick fingers plunge knuckle-deep into your tight pussy without warning, pumping in and out roughly.

“Fuck, you're so wet already. Such a dirty whore, getting fingered by a stranger in your own kitchen. I bet your limp-dick husband could never make you this wet.”

He curls his fingers inside you, rubbing your g-spot as his thumb finds your clit, wasting no time. Back arching as his fingers hit deep inside your crevices, you shakily moan and writhe against the countertop. Guilt fills your stomach at the mention of your husband, but it mixes with pleasure as your pussy is violated by the stranger.

“Aaah!~” You sob out as he rubs your clit faster—harder. It feels so good, your sensitive body already wants to cum. So quickly, too, perhaps you really are touch starved. You refuse to let yourself cum, biting your lip. “You’re ss- sick..!” You whimper.

He chuckles darkly at your weak protests, doubling his efforts to bring you closer to the edge. “Sick? Maybe. But you love it, don't you? Your greedy little pussy is squeezing my fingers so tightly. Like you’re made for them.”

He adds a third finger, stretching you wider as he continues his relentless assault. His thumb works hard against your clit, rubbing fast circles. “Go ahead and cum for me, you filthy slut. Let me feel this married pussy spasm on my fingers like the desperate whore you are. I know you want to.”

Finally, his grip on your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to take shallow breaths as he finger-fucks you harder, the obscene sound of wet flesh filling the kitchen. “Cum for me.”

You try so hard to defy him, panting as it becomes harder to resist. It happens so quick, you can’t hold it back any longer, and you cum around his fingers. You squirt all over them with breathless moans, pussy clenching around his fingers as you grip his shoulders for stability.

“Aaah~! Fuck!” You cry out, head leaning against his chest as your legs shake around his hand. The moment of pleasure is quick lived as the overwhelming guilt for what you’ve just done sinks in.

He holds you steady as you come undone, fingers still buried deep inside your spasming hole, prolonging your intense orgasm. “That's it, milk my fingers like the desperate slut you are.“

Tears coat the killer’s shirt as you cry from pleasure and guilt into his chest, white knuckle dripping the fabric as you quiver. “I’m sorry, my love..” You hiccup. “I’m so sorrry..”

One hand comes up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his soulless gaze despite the tears blurring your vision. “How cute, you’re crying! Shouldn’t you be grateful? I just gave what your pathetic excuse for a husband couldn't give you.”

As your climax subsides and the guilt washes over you, he slowly withdraws his soaked digits from your sensitive hole. Bringing them to his mask, he licks them clean, marveling in the way you shake. “Delicious.”

Your eyes widen as you watch him lick his fingers, hotness boiling in your stomach as your pussy grows hotter. You whimper submissively at the sight, feeling faint after your intense orgasm.

“Nn- No..” You whisper out, gasping as your legs are roughly pulled closer to him, and your body falls back against the counter. “W- What are you doing!?”

He smirks behind his mask as he sees the fear and reluctant arousal in your eyes. In one swift motion, he yanks your hips forward, pulling you flush against his muscular body. The prominent bulge in his pants grinds against your sensitive, freshly fucked pussy.

“What does it look like I'm doing, slut? Gonna fuck you so hard and deep, you'll forget all about your worthless husband.”

His hands make quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his massive, throbbing cock. He presses the tip against your gaping entrance, slick from the finger fucking. “Beg for it. Beg me to split your married pussy open on my cock”

You moan loudly, desperately. Your pussy aches as his tip presses against the needy hole, and your mind is still blank from the previous orgasm. You find yourself subconsciously grinding against his cock, despite the guilt, and bite your lip.

“Aa- Aaah..~” You feel your dignity slowly breaking, looking at where his cock and your needy pussy meet. It’s all too much—too good. “…Please…” You beg quietly, hypnotized by the pleasure.

He grins wickedly at your desperate plea, knowing he has you right where he wants you - broken, needy, and ready to be used. “Good girl. Such an obedient little whore.”

Without any hesitation, he grips your hips bruisingly tight and slams forward, burying every thick inch of his huge cock deep into your tight, wet heat in one brutal thrust. “Fuuuuck, yes—nnnmmph! Take it all, you married slut..” His voice is deep as he groans, cock filling you.

He sets a punishing pace immediately, pounding into you with animalistic ferocity. The obscene slap of skin on skin echoes through the kitchen as he rails your pussy mercilessly. “Feels so good—So tight, clenching around my cock. So messy for me, Darling.”

You scream out in pleasure as his cock ravages you. Your pussy is so tight around his cock, clenching it for dear life as it breaks you open. It’s so much bigger than what you’re used to, your husband could never compare.

“Oh! Oh, yes! Please! Don’t stop!” You cry out, gripping the counter as your body slides against it. Tits bouncing feverishly as you throw your head back, wailing out in pleasure. “Ssss- So good!”

He hilts himself fully inside your spasming hole, grinding against your deepest depths as he revels in the sounds you make for him. “That's right, scream for me, whore.. Let the whole neighborhood hear what a depraved slut you are, getting fucked by a stranger’s cock.”

One hand snakes up to wrap around your slender throat once more, applying just enough pressure to make you lightheaded as he continues his relentless assault on your pussy. “When’s the last time you were fucked right, baby?”

Leaning down, he bites and sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, determined to leave marks that will remind you of this encounter for weeks. His other hand digs bruises into your hip as he holds you up, cold gloves rubbing against the sensitive skin of your plump ass.

You find yourself orgasming again, squirting around his large cock this time as he roughly takes care of you. Your mind is so blurry with pleasure at the way his cock is making you feel, you can hardly find words. Face red, hair sticking to your sweaty face as you babble incoherently. He doesn’t stop fucking you even as you orgasm.

Time passes, and you’re exhausted. “I- I’m close.. Sss- So, so close, please..!” Your tongue rolls out as his cock doesn’t stop pounding your sensitive pussy, two orgasms in now and him not anywhere close to ending this. Legs wrap around him, trying to force him to go deeper as you press your pussy against him, loving the way his balls slap against your ass as he goes impossibly deep.

He snarls in primal lust as he feels your walls clamp down on him, your fluids spilling out all over his cock. “Good girl, baby, coat my cock white. Love seeing you feel good.”

Your desperate pleas spur him on and he doubles his efforts, hips slamming against yours with enough force to rattle the countertop. The lewd sounds of heavy sex fill the air. Releasing your throat, he tangles a hand in your sweat-soaked hair, yanking your head back to expose more of your neck. He grazes the delicate skin with his teeth, before finally sinking in deep enough to draw blood.

Your eyes roll back as the sensations become overwhelming. Your body goes limp in his arms as you scream and cry out, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. Your mind is so foggy you can’t even bring yourself to think, all you know is how his cock feels breaking you open.

“Aaaah…~ Haaah~!” Your moans are weak, whorish as you’re fucked into oblivion. You have no clue when this will end, or how long it’s been going on. Two more orgasms later, and he’s still fucking you deep with his cock. “T- Too much.. C- Can’t!”

He continues to pound into your abused hole with intense focus. He cooes, “Aww, too much? But you’re taking it so well, baby. You can last a little while longer, can’t you?”

His thrusts become erratic, balls swelling as his own release approaches. He leans in close, hot breath ghosting over your ear as he groans, “I'm going to flood this ungrateful pussy with so much cum. Pump you full until it's dripping down your thighs. You'd like that, wouldn't you, whore?”

You nod quickly, eyes screwing shut. You clench your pussy around his cock, begging with your body how badly you want his cum. “Please fill me! I’ll do anything!” You moan out, pussy beginning to ache from the intense thrusts now. You want this to end, it’s all too much.

“I need your cum, please! Fill me!” You moan lewdly, as if impersonating a porn star. Drool coats your chin and slickness is now puddling on the floor of the kitchen. “Mess up my pussy, please!”

With a guttural groan, he hilts himself fully inside you one last time, cock pulsing and throbbing as he reaches his peak. His palm presses against your belly as his balls slap against your ass a final time. “Fuuuuck, fuck, good girl. Take it.. Take my cum..”

His cock erupts, painting your insides white with spurt after spurt of his thick cum. It seems endless, pumping into you until your belly begins to swell slightly from the sheer volume. You moan weakly as your used pussy takes it all.

He grinds against you throughout his orgasm, thick cock hitting your deepest parts, ensuring every drop stays in you. As the final twitches fade away, he pulls out with a wet squelch, admiring the creampie oozing from your gaping, well-used hole.

“So good, Darling. I can’t wait to see your husband’s reaction when he comes home to see you. Like a meal, all spread out on the counter.” And, as if on cue, the keys to the front door can be heard jingling.

“Promise you’ll think about me the next time he fucks you?” Ghostface gives a low chuckle before suddenly, he’s gone, and you’re left a cum-filled, naked mess on the counter for your husband to come home to.

#scream #horror #x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #creamp!e #roughfuck

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palmtreesx3 · 10 months ago

Text

Act 4 - Going All the Way

Queening (Steve's Chapter)

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Series Playlist

Queening Mood Board

Summary: (10.6k) Steve’s phone call with his dad does not go well, and the aftermath of that call impacts way more than Steve himself. Steve has to realize a few things, only one of which is that he’s got people there to pick him up when he’s down, but the most important is that relationships don’t have to be conditional. As everyone rallies behind Steve, a revelation comes in the form of a stranger on a bench, and that chance meeting starts a few wheels in motion behind Steve’s pretty head. Can he fix what he’s done when he was down and out? Can he patch things up? Is this the end of the road, or can he go all the way? Buckle up, and enjoy this angsty chapter of Get Off.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Heavier topics are explored, depicted or mentioned including prejudice and anti-gay bias, heavy binge drinking as escapism, depression and a blink of thinking better off dead, controlling parents, overstimulation and some dashes of neurotypical behavior you can catch if you blink slowly enough. There’s also the ongoing sexual innuendos and explicit discussion of body parts, as well as implied p+v intercourse, and the holy grail of pussyeating.

"What the hell is going on, son?" his father's voice bellowed through the phone. "I just heard from a colleague that you're working in some... some pornographic store downtown! In town for business and he could have sworn he saw your lookalike walking into the place, but then you turned around and he knew it was my own flesh and blood. How goddamned embarrassing, Stephen. Do you know how embarrassing that conversation is to have over a business dinner?"

Steve winced at the tone his father took, a visceral response he’s had since childhood. A tone he knows well and somehow still cuts just as deep as it did when he was thirteen. "Dad, it's not like that. It's just a job. It’s…it’s retail, s’all it is" he stammered, attempting to diffuse the tension. To deflect. To play ball.

His father scoffed, "Retail job? Don't play games with me. I've spent years paying for whatever you need, trying to get you scholarships for sports which you squander away with your shitty grades, and this is what you end up doing? Sitting on your ass for a few years and working in some seedy place, peddling who knows what!"

"It's not like that at all. It's just a store, and we sell lots of things, not…not just that stuff, Dad." Steve tries desperately to explain, slipping right back into it - the role of a boy trying to find any excuse to satiate a father that could never be pleased. Like the time he was a shameful teenage boy being told he’s worthless as he stood in the entryway of the house, barely over the threshold, all because he passed the ball and let Sammy Curtis sink the game winning shot instead of taking it himself.

"That stuff” he interrupts with a scoff. “Is this what I raised you for? I expected you to have a respectable career by now. Thought this move to the city was going to give you some fresh choices, not this... this filth!"

Steve was not ready for this. Half his hangover was still hanging on for dear life. Just a moment ago things were…not this complicated. He was eating a raw bagel talking about…you…with his friend. Even when that was the thing that felt complicated it wasn't really, was it? It was simple, and easy and… Now he’s struggling to find the words to defend himself, especially hard long-distance, though he also guesses he should be grateful it was - he wasn’t forced to see the rage and disappointment behind his father’s eyes this particular time."Dad, it's just a job. We needed work, and this opportunity came up. It doesn't define who I am. I just…it shouldn’t matter that much."

“Just a job? Stephen? What do you mean just a job?” At that, Steve can hear his voice slip into a deeper register. He knows the face that goes along with this. He knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his father is going to try and ruin his life. It’s not much of one, but it’s his, and he can just tell that he’s about ready to pull the rug out from under him.

“You're 25, for God's sake! When are you going to get a real job, a job that befits the family name? Do you think your mother and I worked so hard for you to end up in some disgraceful position like this? Galavanting around a city and being a part in all this promiscuity. Goddamnit, at this rateI bet you even associate with the gays. Don’t you?"

He feels his body tense and wince as those words spill out of his fathers mouth. His eyes flit to his friend, sitting on the couch, legs tucked up under her and perched there watching one side of this debacle unfold like a deer in headlights. Forcing a smile at him, an awkward smile of encouragement, none the wiser about the hate his father is spewing about people like… about her. Tears welled up in Steve’s eyes thinking about it and Robin sees them - or at least she thinks she does - and her eyebrows furrow in concern. But before she can be sure, he turns around refusing to show his vulnerability right now even to her. He bites his lip to stifle the visceral response he had to his dad’s prejudices about his friend. "Dad, I'm doing my best. I'm trying to make a living and figure things out. It's not as easy as you think."

His father's tone softened with a hint of disappointment unlike the frustration and anger that has been flowing out of him since the minute Steve picked up the phone. In almost a plea, he says "You're embarrassing us, son. This is not the life I envisioned for you. You need to reconsider your choices and start acting like an adult."

After a brief silence, his father's voice returned, this time laced again with frustration - the softness that just fell was all an act. This is the hammer Steve was expecting, and it’s falling. Right now. "Enough of this nonsense. You're coming back home. I've arranged for a position for you in the firm. You'll start immediately. Stability, respect – those are the things you need. Not whatever you're doing in that disgraceful place."

Steve ran his free hand through his hair, shaking his head but not really knowing what to say. Dragging his hand back down his face, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The pressure to conform to his father's expectations had been a constant weight on his shoulders for his entire life and this is not the first time this conversation has been had. This time feels different though. Before he hadn’t had anything to call his own - not as much to lose. This stupid apartment and the life that they’re living, it’s been good. Maybe the best thing that he’s ever had. And it’s been his. Before, his dad just wanted control. This time, he wants to control him and strip him of the actual identity he’s been working so hard to understand and build. "Dad, I... I need some time to figure things out here. I can't just drop everything and come back."

His father's tone grew more insistent. "Time? You've had enough time, and look where it's gotten you – working in a place like that! It's time to put an end to this foolishness. You're coming back, and that's final."

Steve hesitated, torn between his desire for independence and the fear of his dad. He takes a deep breath and finally responds "I appreciate your concern, but I need to make my own choices. I can't just give up on everything I've built here."

"Built? You call this building a life? What have you accomplished, working in that... that den of immorality? Come home, and I'll set you on the right path. It's time you take responsibility for your future."

As his father continued to insist, Steve’s yearning to forge his own path and avoid any that looks remotely like his fathers continues to intensify. He’s tuning out the insults at this point, desperate to find some sort of life raft to hold on to as he drowns in his fathers disappointments. It’s only then, that he finds it. The lifeline. The realization that he's got miles between him and his father now. He’s not coming home later to ground him or impose punishments on him. He isn’t relying on their money to pay bills. His mind is racing a mile a minute, and nothing…not one fucking thing he can land on points to any reason that he has to comply with his father. He isn’t depending on him for anything anymore, so why does he owe his dad anything at all?

"I'll think about it, Dad," And with that, he hangs up, knowing full well that he won’t think about it for another goddamn second.

And that day, Steve called out of work.

Robin couldn’t even argue with him. After the receiver hit the wall, she could tell that it was worse than she expected the minute he turned around and she could see his eyes glistening. She also was confused as fuck, because she swore she also saw him smirking just a little bit, but she was not going to poke the bear. She let him storm off and slam the door to his room. She didn’t bother him even though everything inside of her was screaming to go knock on the door and make him talk about it. Make him listen to her. She wanted to tell him he wasn’t anything that his father probably just said he was, but they’ve had this conversation before and…damnit she was working really hard at knowing boundaries - trying to read the room and figure out when she needs to shut up instead of rambling incessantly at all the wrong times. She thinks that this is one of those times that people need space, so she acquiesced.

She makes a full pot of coffee, sets out some more food and the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and leaves it all out on the kitchen counter for Steve for whenever he emerges once she’s gone. Subtle. Not every way to help has to be in your face, she tells herself. I don’t need to meddle. He’ll let me know if he needs anything. Right?

Robin’s walk to work that day was quiet and dreary. The weather outside, overcast and air thick with that feeling that comes before the clouds break open and pour down on you. Seemed fitting.

It took Robin five whole minutes after she got to work and put her stuff away before she meddled anyway. She picked up the phone once, and quickly set it down - thinking better of it. But immediately picked it back up against her better judgment and called you. As your answering machine picks up and your message plays, dripping with sarcasm and coyness asking your caller to leave a message after the beep, the realization hits then that she has no idea what your schedule is and it was a dumb idea to call you. Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.

As the silence settles on the other end of the line Robin’s eyes widen in panic. She meant to hang up, call back later, pretend this didn’t happen at all and play it off as a wrong number. But she’s pretty fucking sure she just said that out loud instead of in her head. “Dumb dumb dumb. Steve’ll be pissed anyway.”

She hung up faster than the devil can fly, slamming down the phone and rattling the display case. The commotion drew Murry out from the back office, shirt pulled up and scratching at his stomach. “What’s got you all worked up Red? Little lost without your other half? Where is he anyway? Finally ruined his perfect attendance because of a wicked hangover, didn’t he? Make sure you tell ‘em he’s not eligible for the Perfect Attendance award this year, nowwww–ohhh something is off about this... What is it Red?.”

So for the next hour, Robin tries her best to summarize what it’s like to have the Harrington’s as parents and what just happened this morning. At least what she knew, because Steve hadn’t shared anything that his dad had said on the other end of that line. “Red, thank God you talk so fast, otherwise that story would have taken up your whole shift. Shit.”

That coaxes a chuckle out of Robin, which makes Murray smile. “Listen, that guy sounds like a Grade-A Asshole. No wonder Steve’s wound so tight…Makes so much sense actually. But this ain’t your fight. Steve’s gotta deal with this demon on his own and he has a funny way of showing it, but he knows where to find the people to help when he needs them. I’m sure of it. He’s not that fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, see you’re wrong there Murray. He does absolutely think that he has to do everything on his own. Even when he knows we’re here, he won’t… he won’t ask for help. He won’t talk about it. He…thinks he deserves it.”

It ended up being a slow day, not many people wandering the streets with the off and on drizzles happening all day long, so Robin used that time to bring Alex up to speed after she popped in the shop after work.

Alex found the story surprisingly relatable. She grew up in a house with rich, successful parents just outside the city in the suburbs. Her parents hosted lavish dinner parties for business partners and she grew up in a way that seemed an awful lot like the Harrington house, other than the fact that they didn’t disappear on her for weeks on end. Her parents, however, were disappointed in her. Unlike Steve’s story, they were not pissed at her skill or her work ethic, her dreams or aspirations. No, they were pissed and disappointed at who was calling the house late at night and giggling on the other end of the phone. Who was picking her up for a night at the movies, or who she was driving off to meet under the swaying trees in the park. The boys she was dating were not good enough for the family - not a “strong enough merger of families” and then when she brought home a girl…well that was a horse of a different color all together.

Five hours later, Robin and Alex are standing outside of their favorite pizza place in the neighborhood, thinking that a pie and some beers might just draw a sulking Steve out of his cave of self-loathing for the night. They haven’t heard from him all day, and Robin, despite thinking she should maybe let him be for a while, still decided to try and call home to check in on him. When he didn’t answer, Alex offered up a simple explanation, “Rob, he’s probably just sleeping it off, or not in the mood. It’ll be fine.”

Pies and six packs now acquired, they walk side by side the rest of the way back to the apartment, ready for whatever their friend might need.

“Honey, we’re home!” Robin exclaims, as they barrel through the door. But she stops dead in her tracks seeing the counter laid out with all of the supplies, perfectly arranged exactly how she left them that morning. “Steve? Y’okay?”she shouts down the hallway, on her way to tap at his door before she hears Alex call her name from the living room, beckoning her to come.

When she arrives, what she doesn’t expect to see are the crushed cans of High Life strewn all over the coffee table, an ashtray so full that she knew he had to blow through most of the pack he has tucked away from when they drink, and the half emptied bottle of Whiskey sitting at the foot of the couch. He didn’t even bother with a glass, she knew it. He spent the day trying to drink away the awful things that sorry excuse for a father said to him straight from the bottle.

His shoes - the Chucks, the ones he’s been wearing lately - they’re not by the door. Neither is his jacket, so she knows he left and went somewhere.

But then a high pitched beeping sings from the kitchen, and Robin immediately knows that Steve’s Tamagotchi is hungry…he left, but he forgot his keys. That stupid drunk idiot got locked out.

All the strings Robin has been holding together all day come loose. They unravel like a dangling thread on a handknit sweater and Alex is pretty sure she hadn’t taken one breath since she started rambling. “Ohmygoddoyouthinkhe’sokay? Whatifsomethinghappenedtohim? Ican’tlivewithmyself. Howdoweevenfindhim? OhmygodI’mgonnahavetotellthekidshe’smissing. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

“Robin.” Alex calmly speaks.

“Ifhe’sdeadI’mblaminghisdad,Isweartogodhe’sasgoodasadeadmanhimself”

“Robin.”

“Jesus,weshouldcallthehopsital? Ormaybethepolice. Yeahwegottacallsomeone. Ohmygod.”

“ROBIN!” Alex finally screams, two hands on her shoulders now shaking her into some sense of reality. “You’re spiraling. You can’t be spiraling. We have to think.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m just….”

“Rob, I know you’re worried. We’ll figure it out. Okay?” Alex slides her hand along Robin’s cheek, around her neck and tugging her in for a deep hug, trying to get her to reset, regroup…focus. “Babe, first thing….why do you think he would leave?”

Pulling back, she assesses the situation. Eyes darting around the apartment, closing her eyes so she could think. Just then they pop open looking at the mess on the coffee table. The beer. That was the last of the beer.

“He was out…” she whispers. “I bet he ran out of beer. That was all we had, and it looks like he polished it off.”

“Okay then. Let’s go for a walk. Check some places where he might get some beers - maybe the corner store you guys go to? See if anyone has seen him, okay? Sound good babe?” Alex’s tone is cool, calm. Her eyes are caring and concerned not just for Steve but also for Robin. She’s being so soft, and even in her panicked haze, Robin notices.

“Al…Thank you. I needed that.”

With a soft kiss on her temple, Alex grabs Robin’s hand and tugs her towards the door. “Now don’t forget your keys, either, you maniac. Let’s go.”

It’s three pit stops and two meltdowns from Robin on the sidewalk curb later that they find him. It’s honestly the first place they should have looked, but at least they were on the right track.

Steve did, in fact, get raging pissed that he was out of beer. The cashier they recognize, but don’t know his name, told them as much - mentioned that their friend came in angry and stumbling, grabbed a pack of beer and left it in the middle of the aisle when he rushed out of the store grumbling to himself. It seems as though dear Stevie also forgot his wallet.

The next place they thought to look was The Hideout. Robin thought that maybe he’d come looking for her, begging for some cash so he could replenish his stash. Pay no mind to the fact that it was past closing for a weeknight and Robin was long gone, at this point they were absolutely certain Steve had no idea what time it even was. Half expecting to see him leaning on the door of the shop, or passed out in a slump on the front stoop, when they came up empty handed again Robin needed to cry.

Head in her hands, leaning on her knees as she sits on the curb, Alex tries to stifle a laugh at how splotchy faced and snotty her beautiful girl is right now. “Baby,” she says, pushing back her hair “Baby…let’s think, kay? is there anywhere else Steve feels safe in this city? Who else does he feel safe with other than you?”

The revelation comes quickly.

Head popping up with a renewed sense of confidence in their search for their missing and probably sloppily drunk friend “I bet he’s at Bennys.”

And after a 10 minute walk that is the most silent Robin Buckley has ever been in her entire life, she lets out a breath that she may or may not have been holding the entire time when the door to Benny’s swings open and she takes in Steve with his forehead on the bar. Hopper is standing behind the bar polishing glasses with an irritated scowl and right in front of Steve stands a Joyce, hand right on top of his with sad, concerned eyes that flit right to the girls who just sounded the bell.

Pitiful. The look Joyce was giving him was pity. And if Steve were coherent enough to realize it, he would be completely ashamed to be receiving it from anyone. Steve was shitfaced drunk out of shame and disappointment and whatever feelings of inadequacy he was shielding away from everyone else in his life, but at least he was safe. Thank Christ he had the decency to come to Benny’s, where at least Joyce would take care of him - make sure he doesn’t do anything else stupid.

“Steve!” Robin yells, rushing over to his side “Steve, we didn’t know where you were. And you left your keys. I was so worried. We thought you were dead, I swear….well I thought you were dead. Alex was much more rational, but…”

A groan falls from Steve’s throat as their attention turns to Joyce. She opens her mouth to speak but Hopper interjects before she could even get a word out.

“Your buddy here is a fucking mess. He’s lucky this is Rick’s third stop on his daily tour of downtown dive bars. Recognized the bastard and drug him over here after he got kicked out of wherever they were before this. I honestly don't know where. Ricky’s always so drunk I probably shouldn't even be serving him by the time he gets here anyway.``

“Steve, honey.” Joyce’s honey soft voice stirs him “Your girls are here. Rob and Alex, they’re here for you, baby. Let them help you, okay? Y’cant stay here like this.” She says as she rubs his hair back and tries to soothe him awake.

“He’s been drinking straight ginger ale for at least an hour. He thinks it's mixed with whiskey but I just couldn't. It was easier than him and Hop arguing ‘bout it.” she says under her breath, just out of his earshot.

After agreeing to let him sweat it out for a bit longer, Joyce passes the girls a drink while they wait and slides another ginger ale in a rocks glass in front of Steve with a wink. With soft voices they talk about what has unfolded today just loud enough to hear each other over the din of the jukebox playing “Hunger Strike” in the background.

Shit.

As she hears the deep roll of his voice on Eddie Vedder’s verse she’s reminded of you, and remembers the cryptic message she most likely left you on your answering machine. Even though the boy is sitting there in the flesh in front of them, his eyes now open enough to see the whites of them, his stare is vacant and he hasn’t looked this way since… well. Ever. Robin has seen him through some pretty serious shit, and he’s never looked quite this detached.

“I’m worried about him, girls.” Joyce coos.

With a nod in agreement, she asks for the only thing she can think to do next. “Joyce, can I use your phone? I gotta call someone who might be able to help.”

Alex’s eyes go wide and she winces, “You sure that’s a good idea, Rob? I mean, I see where you’re going with this, but he’s gonna be pissed, isn’t he?’

Seeing the look of confusion on Joyce’s face, Robin grabs the phone and continues “It’s..a girl. He’s fine. It’ll be fine. I don’t care if he’s pissed about it at this point. We need help and… I might have already left her a message earlier in a panic. Oh - Hey!” interrupted in her rambling as you answer the phone on the first ring. “Yeah, yeah I’m so sorry about that weird message earlier. It’s been a… day - a real bad one. We need some help. We’re at Benny’s, and…it’s just - Steve. We need help with Steve, can you come?”

Of course you will. You were there to help as soon as you could. And just like Robin and Alex assumed, Steve was pissed.

“I'm just saying Stevie, you didn't have to be so mean to her. She came because I called. Didya really expect the two of us to be able to drag your sorry ass home without calling in reinforcement? Have you seen my arms? They're basically twigs!”

“I wasn't trying to be mean to her. It was you guys. I was pissed you called her…cause I didn't… It's embarrassing. She didn't need to see me like that. I know you were trying to help. You can barely carry a damn grocery bag, so I get it, its just… I was pathetic.”

“Well. You said it, I didn't.” Robin shrugs, kicking her feet up on the stool next to her by the register. It's been a few days and they're at least able to poke fun a little bit at the whole thing. Steve and Rob had a long talk after he was able to shake off a two day long hangover that he spent in the dark, shades drawn - crackers and some Pedialyte by his bedside.

Steve eventually spilled his guts to Robin on the fire escape while she smoked, his throat still too sore from the pack he inhaled in his drunken rage that day. He wouldn't even look at her when he told her about how his dad was talking about… her. Told her that there's been a lot of terrible, downright rude things that his dad has done and said over the years that he's made an excuse for or ignored, but that…that disregard, that intolerance he showed for someone that Steve cared about. That when it comes down to it, Steve loved. That was the last straw. He couldn't turn a blind eye anymore.

He didn't feel he owed his dad an explanation. If he really thought Steve would show up this weekend with his bags and his Beamer ready to put on a suit and head to the office alongside his dad on Monday, he has another thing coming.

Murray saunters into the storefront then “Before I finalize this schedule, ya sure you're gonna show up on Monday, dude? Last chance to turn in your notice and go shadow daddy dearest, because if you no call no show me on this schedule next week consider this bridge burned.”

“No way in hell, Murray. I'm fully committed to your dick shop. I'll sell anything you dream up over spending one hour in a building full of pricks like my dad. Don't care how much the salary is or how big the guilt trip.”

“Well in that case, Steve, it sounds to me that where your dad works is the real dick shop, huh? We…deal only in one way tickets to pleasure town here.”

“Touche” Steve gives Murray a pow pow with his finger guns before walking through the dangling beads hanging at the entrance to the break room.

Emerging twenty minutes later (and five minutes late from his break) Steve is unsurprised to find Alex spread across the length of the couch. “What are you two assholes doing?”

“Hi Alex, thanks again for saving my life and ensuring I don't die in a ditch or need my stomach pumped from alcohol poisoning and ensuring that my most magnetic and caring roommate and best friend didn't have a stroke while I was missing. It's nice to see you again. I am forever in your debt.” Alex mocks with a deep voice meant to imitate his while Robin cackles, slapping her thighs.

“Smash or pass” she deadpans. “Julia Roberts.”

“Pass” Steve and Robin say in unison.

“Really?” Alex pops up in surprise.

“I guess I just don’t get the appeal with that one. I like her movies, though, just…don’t wanna see her bush. No rolling in the hay with her for me.” Robin says very matter of factly.

“Yeah, for me” Steve quips pointing right at Robin. “Reminds me too much of this asshole right here. Can’t even think about it.”

Madonna. Demi Moore. Sharon Stone. Liv Tyler was a unanimous smash. An hour went by throwing out names and shouting out whether or not they were fuckable before Alex’s bisexual ass snuck in Brad Pitt.

“Bleh, pass. That's a dick.”

“Smash.” Steve's eyes go wide. Did he just…

“Stevie boy, did you just smash Brad Pitt?” Alex is literally on the edge of her seat at this point. Robin's jaw is just about on the floor. He's waving her off “That…that's not.. I mean. If I were I guess…he’s a good looking guy, s’all I’m saying.”

“You would like the golden boy type shit. I'm more of a ruggedly handsome older man kinda bisexual. I bet you'd smash Patrick Swayze too, handsome. UNLESS…are we talking Interview with a Vampire long hair type Pitt because…”

“This is too much for me!” Robin is shouting as she starts pacing.

“Robbie, I’d expect a little more tolerance from you. I’m disappointed.” Steve pokes fun. “Anyway, you do have the late shift today, so I’ll save you from thinking about me boning Brad Pitt and get out of here.”

“Ew. Steve. No. You and Pitt? You’re definitely bottom. He’s batter dipping the corn dog, not you.”

Raising his middle finger in the air, he gestures behind him to the girls as he walks out the door.

After grabbing a coffee, Steve swings into the record store to browse for some new vinyls. The guy at the front desk is starting to get to know Steve, and he likes that the guy is comfortable enough to make recommendations or pulls a vinyl or two to save for next time Steve comes in. It makes him feel memorable. He’s little more than guy at the record store to Steve, but yet guy at the record store cared enough to think about him and what he might like even when he’s not here.

It’s stuff like this, that he hasn’t really experienced until he moved here to the city, that makes Steve feel less than insignificant. Who would have thought that coming to a city filled to the brim with more people than he knows what to do with would make him feel more seen than a small town where everyone knows your name ever did.

He grabs his bag, filled with three new recommendations from guy at the record store, and he’s heading for the door before the cashier yells out “Oh damn, bro. I almost forgot. Someone left this for you. It’s already paid for, so don’t worry about it, but she said you gotta hear this one.” Steve reaches out to grab the bright red sleeve and turns it over twice before slipping it into his bag. “Yeah thanks dude. See ya around.”

He lies to himself when he thinks that the brisk pace he is walking on his way home is because the nights are turning colder in the city and he wants to get home. He lies to himself a second time when he says he wants to keep moving so he takes the stairs two at a time instead of waiting on the elevator. He lies to himself for a third time, pretending that he’s not really in a rush even though he doesn’t take off his shoes and jacket before he makes a beeline right for his record player all while unwrapping that vinyl he knows that you left for him.

The whirring of the player and the zap of the scratching needle connecting with the plastic make his brain start to buzz and he’s done lying to himself when he thinks that he was so fucking stupid when he shouted at you - drunk out of his mind or not, he has been expecting you to never speak to him again, so…you leaving this for him might just mean…

In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey

Butane in my veins and I'm out to cut the junkie

With the plastic eyeballs, spray-paint the vegetables

Dog food stalls with the beefcake pantyhose

What the fuck did she leave me? He thinks, as he lets the record spin and listens, patiently. Waiting for the hook. Waiting for the bass drop. Waiting for those deep drum rhythms he likes so much. Waiting for the lyrics that are supposed to hit home.

Oh.

Soy un perdedor

I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?

(Double-barrel buckshot)

“Maybe I should just move home and take a stupid job with my dad like he’s been telling me to do since junior year of high school.”

Murray hears the boy complaining as he walks through the door with three giant boxes stacked on top of one another. “Casanova. Hey!” Setting them down he snaps both his fingers right in Steve’s face “We’ve been over this… focus on my dick shop, not your dads. I got new goods, get your sweet ass over here.”

He waves Steve and Robin over to the front window, and they dutifully follow. Ripping open the boxes with a rusty pocket knife he pulls from his tube sock, Murray rambles about the boxes filled with a new Latex fashion line he was checking out at the expo. He shoos Steve off to grab the mannequins from the back storage room so they can set up the window display. “Make sure to grab the dudes with the biggest packages back there, Stevie-boy!” before looking at Robin curiously, asking her to spill the details and explain the pivot back into full on self-loathing Steve took.

“Ah, the lady friend? She gave him that? Sassy. I think I like her. If he doesn't want her…” wiggling his eyebrows, Murray is quickly cut off as Steve re-enters the floor.

“Doesn’t want who?’ Steve says, male mannequin under each arm.

“Oh, nothing. I gotta go get some lunch. I’ll grab the plastic girls on my way back in and you two can play dress up.”

“Hey Stevie, whaddya think?” Robin’s got one of the black latex outfits held out in front of her as she tries anything but effortlessly shaking her hips to the beat of the song playing overhead on the speakers. The would-be seductive dance is cut off when her face lights up, running off to the break room with the package in hand.

“I don’t like that look Robbie. What are you doing?”

Shaking the beads dangling from the door frame to announce her re-entry, Steve’s eyes glance up before doing a double take. Robin stood there, leaning into the wall looking as casual as she possibly can (which isn’t that casual, honestly), standing in a full head to toe black latex catsuit. If Steve could have, he would have taken a polaroid if not just to gift to Alex as a thank you, or apology. Whatever she needs most from him - he’s not too sure at this point. Robin arches her back like she’s posing for a centerfold and it’s not long before the two of them are deep in a fit of laughter from her antics.

Except something goes wrong. The fit of laughter soon lets up, but Robin still can’t catch her breath. Steve is breathing deep, grinning again and shaking his head at her, and while she’s happy she’s coaxing out a laugh and a smile she hasn’t seen from him in over a week, her chest is getting tighter by the second.

Looking at his friend's pallid face, his eyes dart around thinking while she starts wheezing for air. “Rob…are you...you’re not allergic to latex, are you?”

She shakes her head no adamantly but quickly backtracks, realizing that no, she can’t be sure she’s not allergic to latex. Holding up her hands between the two of them, her wrists are ballooning up around the seam of the catsuit sleeves, body swelling up making the suit stretch over her skin even tighter. She starts to claw at it, trying to get it off, but it’s so slippery and tight, and suctioned to her sweaty skin that it won’t budge and her panicked expression locks on to Steve’s.

“You didn’t know you were allergic to latex? What the fuck Robbie?”

“When was I supposed to find out, huh? Not like I’ve been carrying around condoms since I was 15 like you, you asshole!”

“So what…that’s not… What about a balloon? Haven’t you ever been around a fucking balloon before, Rob?”

“Steve, I'm poor. We didn’t buy balloons for birthday parties. I didn’t get….extra…shit. I…no. I can’t remember …ever having a…. balloon.” She’s sucking in breaths between words as much as she can. “Steve, help. It’s….I can’t…”

Walking down the street, Murray is on his way back from grabbing his sandwich, when he spots the flashing lights on the street ahead. What he doesn’t expect is to see those flashing lights belonging to an ambulance pulled up outside of his store. Dropping his sandwich into the grimey gutter, he’s absolutely dumbfounded at the sight before him - Robin laid out on the stretcher, clearly naked and covered with a white sheet and his new inventory in shreds on the sidewalk after the paramedics had to cut it off of her. “Oh for fucks, sake. I didn’t literally mean you should play dress up, Red.”

It takes the paramedics another 20 minutes to get her settled and breathing from an oxygen tank in the back of the rig and explain the situation to Murray and Steve. Her reaction was bad, so they should expect her to be down and out for at least three days until the swelling goes down and she can recover her breathing enough to function normally. Murray storms off into the store grumbling about Workers Comp paperwork and throwing his hands in the air while Steve stays back, readying himself to climb into the back of the rig and ride with his friend before she stops him.

“Listen, dude. I’m clearly not gonna be home tonight, and you don’t need to worry about me. Don’t you dare think you’re gonna sit and keep watch at my bedside. This is definitely the only time in my life my tits will look this big, so I’m not about to invite you in. Alex gets clear first dibs before the swelling goes down.”

Steve grimaces, scrunching his nose up in disgust “Ew, gross Robbie. Stop talking to me about your tits.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is, maybe take advantage of the empty house? I know she sent you a message loud and clear with that record but I still don’t buy that she won't give you a shot to explain. Call her. Please?”

All he can do is nod as she pats his hand and smiles. He backs away so they can close up the rig and watches as they pull off, lights flashing with his swollen raspberry of a friend in tow.

Murray ends up closing the shop early that night, saying he’s had it up to here with both of them and he just wants to go see Hop and Joyce for an ice cold drink. Before Steve could even respond, Murray’s finger is in his face “NO. You’re not invited this time, buddy. I don’t wanna see your face until tomorrow. And you have the late shift. I don’t wanna close and I think you two owe me.”

“Owe you?! What the heck, I didn’t do anything, man. Robin, she is the one that -”

“No, you listen here. Your moping and loathing is getting irritating. I like you, unfortunately. I’m not sure why, but I like you Steve, and you’ve been fucking annoying since you let your dad get in your head. And whatever is going on with this lady friend, you better fix it.” He pokes Steve right in the chest - hard.

“Is she a girl, or a woman, Steve?” he says, and Steve remembers their chat about Steve’s choices. Why they never seem to work out and how he keeps going for the wrong kind.

“She’s … she’s a woman. Obviously. She doesn’t want to put up with my bullshit.”

“Fix it, Steve. Thank me later.”

He had two beers before he worked up the nerve to pick up the phone. He probably would have had another, but he thought better of it considering the last time he saw you. More like the last time you saw him because he doesn’t fucking remember a lick of it. An apology probably wouldn’t go over very well if he was shitfaced again all because he needed some liquid courage to get the balls to call you up.

It took three, long, agonizing rings for you to pick up, your voice suddenly some sort of beacon in the night for him. He was silent for a beat too long, and just when you went to hang up muttering “whatever asshole, prank call someone else next time” he finally was able to whisper out your name just loud enough that it traveled through the phone line and made it to your ears.

“You got my record?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“I deserved that… and it’s actually good.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I know. Can I see you?”

And to his surprise, you agreed. You asked him to meet you outside, so you can walk to the cafe together. Promised in a way that had him believing it would all be fine - that you’ll figure it out from there. So he’s sitting on the bench outside of his building waiting, legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably mind weight down from anticipation, nerves and his least favorite piece of baggage, self-doubt.

“You look like you’re waiting on something, boy. Don't wait too long, or you’ll end up looking like me and still never finding what you’re lookin’ for, ya know?”

Steve chuckles and nods. He thinks he does know. And God, he doesn’t want to spend his life chasing an idea and running away every time he gets close because he’s sure he’s not good enough for it. He doesn’t want to be sitting on a bench when he’s 80 lamenting about how he used to look good, had the good hair before it all fell out and turned gray, would get the girls and throw the parties, could pound back a six pack like it’s no big deal, how he was the former Keg King - King Steve. Like that all means anything at all. None of it did. It was all bullshit.

“I’m Steve” he says, holding his hand out and reaching across the bench. The man reaches out accepting his grasp and introduces himself as Robert.“You live here too?” he nods back at the apartment building.

“Sure do. Me and my little rascal Dart.” and Steve notices the small dog laying quietly at the man’s feet.

“What you said before…I am waiting on something. Someone actually. But…I think I’m mostly waiting on myself.”

“Ah, yes. That’s the age old problem innit? We’re always late to our own party. Been in this city for decades and it’s all the same. Young kids like you are lost until they find what they’re looking for, but some of ‘em, they never find it. No one leads ‘em to it and they forget that it’s even worth lookin’ for along the way.”

Steve nods, a little solemnly, at the wisdom the old man is sharing. Resonating just a bit closer to home than the old man probably knows. But then he sees a flash of you from down the sidewalk, your jacket wrapped tight around your body, a tentative smile on your face when you see Steve waiting for you like he promised.

“Ah,” the man laughs a hearty laugh. “She looks like she’s worth waiting for though, my boy. You should go.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Steve says with a bright smile, and it’s genuine. Maybe she's worth it? Or Maybe Steve will see the old man again. He's not sure which he meant, actually. Maybe…both.

The walk to the cafe seems to go on for eons. After an interaction teetering on awkward, feet pushing at invisible rocks on the pavement and tentative smiles, you both head in that direction side by side, stealing glances for a block or two before either one breaks the silence.

It seems like both of you have let the dull drone of the city take up enough space in the night and you finally speak up at the same time.

“I am sorry for being such a mess.”

“I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

“No. No.” You cut him off. “Yeah you're right. You were a mess and you were kind of a dick about it. I'm not gonna excuse that. But you were a mess, and Robin and Alex were worried for good reason, obviously. You were a mess because something happened and I can't be mad at that. I can be frustrated with how you handled yourself…how you treated people who were just there to fucking help you, man, but at the end of the day, you were going through some shit and…I held it against you instead of helped. And then I got you that record and…”

“I…yeah I should not have drank my problems like that. I shouldn't have. I was an idiot. I am an idiot. That song is…not that far off. Might be my theme song, actually.” He holds back a small laugh to himself. “I do stupid shit. That's not new. But…I wasn't mad at anyone until -”

“You sure seemed mad, Steve.”

“I was…it's just. I guess I'm realizing now I wasn't actually mad at anyone but myself and my dad until you showed up.”

“Correct. You made that loud and clear.”

“Oh. I -” silence falls over them for a few steps, Steve finally looking over at you in a way that makes you feel like he's looking into you not at you this time. “I think I finally understand. Can…can I try and explain? Once we get there?”

You nod. And you let him.

Like a floodgate, the honesty Steve holds back on a regular basis flows out the minute he starts. Tucked in the back corner of the cafe, a steaming hot chai in front of you, a black coffee with cinnamon and nutmeg there in front of him, he tells you how growing up actually felt for him. Not just the my dad is an asshole version but how it really affected him. He says it out loud and admits the way his dad made him feel. Tells you stories about all the sports and the winning and the popularity that was never what he wanted anyway. Tells you how his dad has spent his whole life grooming him to be a mini-version of Mr Harrington, and that's the absolute last thing in the world he wants to be. He just wants to be Steve - whoever that is.

And he cries. He cries when he tells you about the phone call. You notice it's not at the mean things his dad says to him, the names he's called or the put downs about his life that break him down - it's when he tells you about the disdain in his dads voice when he berates him about being friends with the gays. How he couldn't look at Robin after the way his dad talked and how he felt more shame in that moment than any other. Not ashamed that he’s friends with Robin. Not in a million years, but more from the idea that his dad - no anyone - would be lucky to find a friend half as good as Robin is, so who the fuck cares who she loves, right? Jesus Christ. Shame that someone he loves has to live in a world where people like his dad exist.

You both need a refill before he can get through the hard part, though, the part where he hurt you. Steve motions to your empty cup asking if he can get you more and before you know it, comes back a short time later with two new steaming mugs and plates of assorted pastries and snacks balancing on top. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got it all.

Something tells you that even if you don't actually say it, Steve would know for next time. He'd know that you're a sucker for their blondies and like to snack on their homemade caramel corn because even as he's spilling his guts he's paying attention to you, and from here on out every time you meet Steve Harrington at the cafe, he'd have your drink and a plate with a blondie on it waiting for you every single time.

Then, Steve tells you about that day. About how he remembers chain-smoking inside the house and how he knew Robin would fuck me up for it but I didn’t care. He recalls for you how he sat on the sofa with the whiskey bottle muttering to himself about the things his dad said, trying to figure out why this man thinks he can still push his grown son around. He tells you he remembers leaving to get another 6-pack when he ran out but that was the last of it. He doesn't remember much of anything or how he got to Benny's. Hop had told him, and he makes sure to remind him every time he's seen him since that he was pitiful watching Steve being drug in by the drunkest man on the block. Never thought I'd see the day anyone was more drunk than goddamn Rick, boy. Sure proved me wrong.

And when he gets to the part where his friends show up, when you show up, he looks downright ashamed and worried. With a deep sigh, falling from his lips, he tells you that the next and only other thing he remembers from that night was you walking through the door. With his head lain on the bar, vision completely sideways, what he saw was a fucking angel walking into the bar. Thought he was hallucinating or maybe even finally out of his misery and you were coming to bring him towards the light, until his brain made you right side up and he realized who it was.

He didn’t remember the yelling, but Robin told him later how big of a douchebag he was when all he did was start yelling at you and making one hell of a scene. Hearing Robin tell him about how he shouted and asked in such an accusatory tone What are you doing here? made him wonder if he was no better than his dad in the first place. Sounded an awful lot like him in the moment, at least.

You think he looks like a kicked puppy as he explains the rest. “I - I don't expect you to say anything. Or do anything. I don't expect you to forgive me or…” running his hands through his hair you can tell he's trying to pluck up some semblance of courage.

“The thing is, I was mad when my drunk brain finally registered that you were there, and you were there to help. Because I didn't want that. Help sure…I fucking needed help. You saw me. But you….” His swallow is so loud it's audible.

“I was embarrassed I didn't want you to see me like that. I… “

Reaching across the table you gently touch his forearm and it gives him enough courage to finish what he has to say.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that, because I like you too much…Like, the real kind. And I feel so stupid saying it out loud, because I thought that if I showed you how broken I was, you’d see that I wasn’t worth it. Maybe you don’t think I am in the first place and that’s fine I can be just your friend. S’probably all I deserve, honestly.”

He chances a look at you just then, and when it’s not a scowl or indifference he feels safe rough to continue. “Before I didn’t know why I was being such a jerk and I figured it was just because - I am a Harrington, after all. But, I understand why I did it now. I understand that even though I did it wrong, I was trying to protect you from me, and I was trying to protect myself from… ”

Scooting your chair closer to Steve, you push his wild and windswept hair back so you can see him even when his head is hanging low. His eyes flit up to yours and there’s no pity in your eyes. He was expecting pity at the very least, but it’s not there.

“Steve, who says I need to be protected? Especially from you?”

He doesn’t expect your fingers to find his on the walk away from the cafe. He doesn’t expect your touch to be soft. He doesn’t expect it to stay longer than a second - maybe just the gift of something fleeting. But it is. It does. Your fingers hook into his and they don’t pull away, holding on to him and his limp hand before he can even process what he’s being given. Fingers hooked and coaxing him to just let go and embrace it. Fingers he accepts as he laces his with yours, and they stay that way for the entire walk back to his apartment.

—-

A nod of the head with a huge grin spread across his face, Robert welcomes Steve back to the building, still perched on the same bench he walked away from a few hours ago. Maybe Dart needed to go out again, or maybe Robert never left, but in that moment, Steve thought about everything the old man said to him earlier. He’s done with waiting. Waiting has gotten him nowhere. Hiding his feelings has gotten him nowhere. The only person standing in his way is himself.

Your name falls from his lips softly, but there’s something there that wasn’t there earlier in the shop. It’s more sure of himself, almost confident. The predictable thing to come next was a goodnight kiss on his front stoop, and you’re thinking that maybe after all this time and him finally admitting that he’s into you, you’ll get what you’ve been wanting since that night in the back seat of the cab, or when you felt your tummy flip sitting across from him eating that ice cream. Poised to lift up on your toes to close the distance, instead he surprises you when he tugs your arm and pulls you inside the front door to his building with a grin.

And you got that kiss. Oh God, did you get it.

When the door closed to their apartment, Steve turned around to look at you. There was a heat behind his eyes as he slid your coat off of your shoulders for you, and a yearning hiding there when he looks up at you from below as he crouches down to help you slip off your shoes. Rising back up in front of you he’s close. So close that his lips are just barely apart from yours and the heat of his breath tickles your cheeks. The pair of you are so close that there’s barely any space between your bodies when you suddenly find your back pressed up against the door behind you.

Lips finally touching, slow and just barely you breathe out “Robin…”

“That’s not my name, honey.”

And you laugh. A sweet thing that makes Steve’s insides twist and turn.

“She won’t be home tonight. There was some latex…She’s fine. I’ll explain later.”

The kiss you finally get is sloppy, but in the best way. There’s no time for chaste kisses here, pillowy lips slotted together and moving effortlessly between one another. He adjusts your chin with the tips of his fingers so that he can gently caress the line of your jaw, following it back down and up again as he slides his fingers through the base of your hair. His grip there is tight, but not painful, Possessive but not overwhelming. It’s like he’s got something he wants so desperately and he’s afraid to let it go.

He gently touches your upper lip with the tip of his tongue, coaxing you open further for him, letting his tongue follow the outlines of your teeth before letting his dance together with yours. He lets out a small sigh as you continue to nip at each other's lips and play with how you both respond to one another's kiss. The sigh makes your mouth crack open in a smile, cheeks drawing up with the grin and encouraging his kisses to explore elsewhere. Small pecks start on the corner of your mouth and then your cheeks, right on the apple of them as their pulled taught by your smile.

Moving down towards your jaw, your neck, they get more and more salacious the lower they get. Red and pricking, a bruise is blooming at the spot on your neck just under your ear where he settles in to suck and kiss at your skin while the whimper that falls from your lips as he does it and your fingertips running through his hair and scratching at his scalp keep him grounded - barely capable of holding it together as is.

When you ask him what he wants, the answer he gives you is not one you expected. Sure you expected him to want to dote on you - after all, he’s attentive like that on any given day, so Steve being a giver in the sheets was almost…a given? But when his gasping breaths punctuate each word that comes out of his mouth Can you … I want you to ride my face? was a pleasant surprise.

Now surprising him, you not only agreed, but were confident about it. “Always wanted this. No…no one would let me.” He tells you as he breathes into you, chest heaving, foreheads touching. He barely notices as you pull the top of your dress down and work it over your shoulders, then the swell of your breasts. He only registers your exposed skin as you guide his hands down to your waist so he can hold you steady as you step out of it.

Coaxing him backwards towards the sofa, you tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down on the floor, back against the furniture, as you make a show of removing your bra. He does as you ask, unable to tear his eyes away from your supple skin and perfectly peaked nipples, making a mental note that later he absolutely has to get his mouth on them. As you shimmy down your underwear in front of him, you pause to add a kiss to the top of his head before dropping the garment directly in his lap.

He bunches them up in his hand, sliding them into his front pocket for later as you settle over him, “Y’know…they call this Queening?” perched there on your knees, you’re fully undressed and slotted above his face so casually.

“Mmmm. Makes sense.” He says, against the seam of your pussy and your thighs, making you vibrate with his words and his gentle hum.

“R’mind me to tell you why one day.”

“Mmmmhmm. Sure thing.” In a haze, he reaches around you, fingers digging into your supple ass and pulling you closer. Forward and over, just where he wants you. The perfect position where he can use both his mouth and his nose - just like Robin told him he should. Head moving subtly left to right, he tests it out, tip of his nose gently nudging your clit left to right and right to left and his warm breath teasing your wet, glistening folds. You let out a gasp followed by a small breathy little uhh, that has his ears ringing and he’s happy. Pleased with his position, he slips his tongue out and traces you with it, before returning with a big, firm lick - tongue flattened and wide making sure you touch all of you in one pass. Those big hands wrap further around you, now snaking over the tops of your thighs and this time tugging you down. Down down down and there’s nowhere else to go.

Now you’ve had some fine oral sex before. It’s a non-negotiable for you when it comes to relationships: If a man is worried about tasting your clit, you don’t want him. You’re worth more than that. You’ve even done this a time or two, but Steve nestled between your thighs, under you like this fully clothed and pulling you into his face further despite there not being anywhere else to go is otherworldly.

Other times you’ve found yourself in this position were tactical. A position change, a new angle, just for fun, a lazy guy. But being perched on top of Steve Harrington’s face is making you feel like a true goddess. You were about to give him a history lesson and tell him why this is called Queening and instead he’s proving it to you. Making you feel just like one.

Between smooth glides of his tongue, Steve sucks at your lips, your clit, the seam of your thigh. Once you’ve settled and allow yourself to fully relax over top of him, he releases his bruising grip - perfect tiny crescents left behind in their wake - and uses those free hands wherever he can reach. Sliding up your spine, ghosting over the peach of your ass, along the curve of your backside and between them, too.

You’re not quiet anymore. You couldn’t be if you tried, and if you weren’t muffling the sounds coming from him with your thighs, you’re pretty sure the symphony of both of your moans would be enough to tip you over the edge. Since his are busy elsewhere, your hands find their way to your tits, rolling your nipples between your fingers and throwing your head back in pleasure as you start to absentmindedly grind on his face.

He lets you bask in your pleasure for a while before tugging you out of your daze, hands covering the small of your back, pulling and angling you forward so that your hands fall to the arm of the sofa behind him. Now, leaning over him, soft and subtle grinding returning like muscle memory, he takes the opportunity to slide his fingers in from behind, just alongside his mouth. Thick digits slipping inside, scissoring alongside the wet muscle of his tongue, nose nudging your clit between deep rolls of your hips against him, he notices the twitching of your velvety walls first, followed by the shaking of your thighs.

Freeing his hands, he finds your legs again, if only to hold you down to ride out your climax, combating how badly your sensitive body is trying to pull away, just slightly. The work he’s putting in on your pussy is paying off tenfold when you tremble and shake above him. Unable to move from the vice grip he has on your legs, you have no choice but to cry out and let him lap at you, drink you up until you're overstimulated and begging him to stop.

Limp and satiated, you easily fall into his arms as he moves up between you and the couch, pulling you into his lap. Your head lolls forward has he grabs your cheeks to look at you “Y’feel good baby? Y’feel like a Queen?”

You nod, dazed but eager and happy as he lifts you and stands. Legs wrapping around his hips while he peppers you with kisses that taste like your own pleasure, he carries you down the hallway to his room.

Kicking open the door, he stalks over to his bed and tosses you onto it without a second thought. Looking up at him with big doe eyes, he knows he’s done for. He can’t move fast enough as he loosened his belt and tugs down his pants. Crawling over you on his bed, he nudges that nose against yours again to get your attention. “You wanna? We don’t have to y’know?”

“Steve Harrington, I want to so bad, I’m gonna make you forget your name.”

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