#poker lounge
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omg so i've been rereading book 4 and omg.. the part where mc and grim crash into the lounge and jade and floyd come to their rescue (bc azul told them) is making me so đ”âđ«đ”âđ« like i literally gasped and thought "ah prince charmings <3" biting my fist they're so gwjajdjajsjjs just knowing they'd beat someone up for you is aurjakdnajndjajejsjd i WANT THEM SO BAJEJZJA
Truly charming moray princes. orz uuwaaa I replayed that part after reading your ask and omg they were so ready to beat the life out of us for breaking in, but because we're Shrimpy and Grim we get the main character pass. (Ë Ë Ë) and when they beat up the Scarabia students for us........ hehe they are so boyfriend/husband/prince/best morays to me. <3 AAAAAAA and the fact that Azul can absolutely hold his own in a magic fight, so all of Octavinelle can beat up troublesome people for you. orz orz orz it's too good...
It's cute to imagine visiting Mostro Lounge at midnight for snacks and having a snack party together. A sleepover at Octavinelle would be so fun!!! >:D
#twisted chit chat#playing drinking games in the lounge would be too dangerous#because octavinelle plays to win (and they will definitely cheat)#strip poker with them........
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NO BUT REALLY where the fuck is julius. do you know how hard it is for me to whump ludger during the game's events and i'm stopped by the part where julius has every reason and motivation to be present and just ISN'T??? (even chronos chasing him for like four waymarker chapters and another exodus attack doesn't make sense for chronos) i know julius' character profile in the encyclopaedia implies he just couldn't bring himself to face ludger and answer but its just that the entire game is structured around not letting these two talk to each other or else the entire plot would fall apart and i just [bloody stick figure biting] how am i supposed to write ludger suffering without julius when it doesn't even make sense to me that julius would have zero contact with ludger.
*lies down* i love x2 very much but there's a reason why a grand total of none of my finished fic ideas happen during canon đ
anyway maybe that jogs your memory of what you were thinking cheers
đđđ ok i think i wondered about. maybe him doing some of his hiding in some fds on and off, for various purposes not necessarily limited to avoiding the cops (and his little brother) (should those be switched? 'his little brother (and the cops)'?). they could have had something useful for him in theory. idk how plausible that is since all the fd information should have gone straight through spirius, but also the man is very tech-savvy so who knows maybe he built a backdoor so he gets heads up when fds pop up or whatever that might not necessarily be canon speculation, it may be some kind of subplot in an au or something LOOOL i really dont remember....
#IT'S A REALLY GOOD QUESTION WHERE TF WERE YOU MY DUDE#i guess the best thing for him to do at that point aside from the guilt and whatever really would be to stay away from ludger since.#gestures at their dual wanted posters#didnt wanna make that situation even worse#but so little contact really was. unnecessary đ#you have an untrackable cell phone my dude#and a little brother who REAAAAALLY wants to talk to- ah yes i see the problem#i think i ASSUMED that he had something actually useful to do. somewhere. somehow#though if that's not in fds then idk wtf that would be#because everything trial-related is at spirius............................#maybe he went to the beach and sunbathed#maybe he went bar hopping and played poker the whole time#maybe he found a sugar mama who didnt keep up with the news and lounged around her house for a while#maybe he.... im running out of stupid ideas#tox2 tag#v#reply#i think the realest answer is he literally just sat somewhere and stalked ludger on his phone without blinking day in day out
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Gae Aulenti
Natasha Lyonne
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This just in: gotta get surgery
#iâm just. so tired#my body is exhausted and Iâm emotionally exhausted too#and like I havenât been able to just lie down and rest in over a week#since the cyst on my back feels like a hot poker is stabbing me in the shoulder blades at all times#and now I have to get an ultrasound before I can go into surgery#bc itâs on top of my spine#which I get but goddamn do I hate the American healthcare system#so Iâm just popping nonstop ibuprofen and just bought some lidocaine but it only does so much#Iâve stress cried like three times in the past few days??#and like I donât get homesick but I want my parents right now#Iâve had weird medical shit before but this one is definitely the most mentally frustrating#and Iâve strained so many muscles in my neck and back trying to avoid resting this one part of my back on anything#and itâs fine when Iâm asleep bc Iâm a stomach sleeper but nobody just lounges about on their stomach!!#so Iâm in too much pain to do anything but sit here and I canât even do that comfortably#god im just exhausted#libby shouts into the void#tw medical#tw surgery#vent post
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:)
#having very conflicting feelings over this guy#he just keeps telling me all the bad things heâs done but I like him so much#I know I need to run#but also we had really good sex last nightâŠ.#broke my own fucking rule abt him not staying over AGAIN tho#fuck!!!!#we fucked on the couch lmfao#he left a hickey on my nipple#and I came so#hehehehehehe#when heâs comfortable and fully hard itâs so good#had a house party last night#only had two friends other than him there so once they leftâŠ#got to fuckin#all I can think abt is sex#lmfao#my housemates came back at like#8am and I got up lol#went back to bed after he left#we put the dining table in the lounge room to play poker lmfao#the wii is also highly likely to be fuckin broken#which is so disappointing#like I love my Wii#itâs my WiiâŠ#omg so my housemate did speed last night#came back clearly panicked as all fuck and worried#cementing that I shouldnât try speed tbh#thereâs more to this lol
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i was so excited to have ashley back this playthrough since i think this is the first time i've saved her since LE got released and then the game like barely lets you have any cutscenes w her after she comes back to the normandy :( wtf
#i think they were all on the citadel actually#and you never (?) see her interacting w the other team members..... whadda hale#im pretty sure kaidan had a scene playing poker in the lounge or whatever#why do they do my girl like this#anyway at least i still have the citadel dlc#playin me3
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Headcanon that Morax can flirt like CRAZY...except he's not really aware that he's flirting; he's just being sincere.
You see him seated, practicing various styles of traditional calligraphy with dexterous strokes of his brush. When you move closer you realise, as your heart skips several beats, that he's been writing your name - over and over in countless elegant styles.
When you bashfully ask him about it, he responds - with a deadpan expression, "It is a name most beautiful; one that flows from my ink as easily as water in a river."
You subsequently roll around on the floor, not knowing how else to channel your poor flabbergasted heart, as your divine lover calmly continues his calligraphic endeavors.
He'd be creating Mora from his body while you're lounging around on the bed. The deity would sigh, "Ah, all the gold I make cannot compare to this leisurely sight of you at peace."
You stare at him agog as he blinks back at you earnestly. His golden gaze is more intense than the sheen of the Mora, yet his expression is mundane. It takes everything in you not to chew up the pillows.
One day, he's telling you all about his visit to Fontaine, where he sampled some exquisite tasses ragout. He explains how the warm flavors masterfully mingled on his tongue and left him wanting more.
So you ask him, "Is it the most delicious thing you have ever tasted?"
Your god doesn't even hesitate before his answer. "Hm, not at all."
"Then what is?" You expect him to name a traditional Liyuen dish like Adeptus' Temptation, or Jueyun chilli chicken, or...
Morax maintains his beautiful poker face. "I would have to say...you have the most enjoyable taste."
You promptly head to the top of Mt. Tianheng and scream your lungs out.
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Could you do adeuce & the overblot gang (separately) trying one of those period cramp simulators like in those videos?
Overblot Gang + Adeuce + Rollo trying period simulators!
part 2 with vice housewardens + Kalim
I found the idea funny and added Rollo for funsies, I hope you don't mind <3
Adeuce
Ace, being the daredevil he is, straps on the period cramp simulator first with a cocky grin. âHow bad can it be?â he says, glancing at you like this is no big deal.
The moment you turn it on, though, his face transforms. âW-What theââ he gasps, doubling over like someone just punched him in the gut. âOkay, okay, this isâAHHH, NOPE, TURN IT OFF!â Heâs flailing now, hands waving in panic as he tries to yank the device off, hopping around like a fish out of water.
Deuce, meanwhile, watches with wide eyes, realizing itâs his turn next. âUh, maybe we shouldnâtââ
âNah, nah, Deuce, you gotta try it,â Ace wheezes between pained groans. âItâs character building!â
Deuce, ever the trooper, reluctantly puts it on. At first, heâs stoic. âI can handle this. Itâs just a simulationâOH MY SEVENS!â He crumples into a chair, gripping his stomach as though his life depends on it, tears actually forming in his eyes. âHOW DO PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS?!â
Ace, still recovering on the floor, gives him a thumbs up. âWeâre never⊠talking back to anyone going through this⊠ever again.â
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle approaches the simulator with the same seriousness he applies to everything else. âThis is for educational purposes,â he declares, strapping it on confidently. âIâll endure it to better understandââ
The moment it starts, his face turns a deep crimsonânot from anger, but from sheer pain. His knees buckle, and he grips the nearest chair for dear life, a strained gasp escaping his lips. âT-This canât be real,â he mutters through gritted teeth. âThis isâŠan injustice to all rules of nature!â
By level three, heâs gasping for air, holding onto the table as if itâs his only lifeline. âTURN IT OFF! THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!â
You switch it off, and Riddle stands there, disheveled and panting, brushing his hair back. âWe shall⊠never speak of this again,â he declares, with his pride barely intact.
Leona Kingscholar
Leona sits back with a smug grin as you offer him the simulator. âTch, weaklings. Iâve dealt with worse.â he says, lounging lazily as he straps it on. His confidence is off the chartsâuntil you turn it on.
His ears immediately flatten, his eyes go wide, and his whole body tenses up. âThe hell is this?!â he growls, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other grips the couch.
By level two, heâs sweating and lowkey whimpering. âTurn it off, turn it off right now.â His tail is thrashing, and thereâs no trace of his former bravado. âWhoever made this⊠is a sadist.â
When you finally switch it off, he glares at you, still slumped on the couch, breathing heavily. âIf you tell anyone about this, herbivore, I swearâŠâ
Azul Ashengrotto
Azul, ever the schemer, thinks heâs prepared for anything. âThis is merely an experiment,â he says, carefully adjusting his glasses as he straps the simulator on. âIâll be able to handle it with ease.â
As soon as it starts, though, his confident smirk falters. His back stiffens, and he clutches the arms of his chair, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. âTh-This is...more than I anticipated,â he gasps, his face pale as he tries to remain composed.
By the time you hit level three, Azulâs glasses are askew, and heâs gripping the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. âMAKE IT STOP! IâLL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! HALF-PRICE AT MONSTRO LOUNGE, JUST TURN IT OFF!â
Jamil Viper
Jamil raises an eyebrow at the challenge but doesnât say no. âThis is nothing,â he mumbles, strapping the device on like itâs a task on his daily to-do list. You turn it on, and for a few seconds, he seems unfazed. His poker face is strong.
But as the intensity increases, you see his eye twitch. Then, heâs hunched over, muttering a stream of complaints under his breath, his face contorted in a rare expression of suffering. âThis⊠this is inhuman,â he grits out, shaking his head. âI couldâve been cooking, cleaning, or literally anything else.â
At level four, heâs pressing a hand against his stomach, sweating bullets. âHow do people get anything done like this? Whoâs responsible for this?!â
Vil Schoenheit
Vil, in true Vil fashion, approaches the whole thing with poise. âI can handle this,â he says, strapping the simulator on like itâs a designer belt. âHow painful could it reallyââ
The second the simulator starts, his perfect posture falters, and he sits down immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. âOh. My. Sevens. This isââ
By level three, heâs doubled over, one hand gripping his stomach and the other clutching his chest dramatically. âThis is unbearable! This pain would ruin anyoneâs complexion!â
His voice is full of horror as he waves a trembling hand. âTurn it off before it does permanent damage!â
Idia Shroud
Idiaâs hair is already flickering with anxiety the moment you suggest he try the simulator. âY-Youâre joking, right? No way!â But you convince him, and he reluctantly straps it on âIâm going to die, I just know it.â
When you turn it on, his reaction is immediate. His hair flares bright neon pink, and he lets out the most dramatic yelp youâve ever heard. âOH NO, THIS IS IT! THIS IS HOW I GO!â Heâs rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach like heâs in the final boss battle of his life.
By level four, heâs practically pleading. âI surrender! Iâm done! Game over! JUST TURN IT OFF!â His hair is flashing so brightly it could power a small city.
Malleus Draconia
Malleus approaches the simulator with a curious expression. âA device that mimics pain? Fascinating.â He straps it on with a regal air, as if this is just another strange mortal custom heâs willing to experience.
The moment it starts, though, he pauses. His eyes widen slightly, and he places a hand over his stomach. âThis⊠is quite intense,â he admits, his voice calm but strained.
As the levels increase, his stoic expression falters, and heâs soon gripping the edge of the nearest surface. âIs thisâŠwhat humans endure regularly?â he asks in disbelief. By the time it reaches full strength, heâs staring at you in awe. âYou must be incredibly strong to endure this.â
The storm outside, coincidentally, seems to match his inner turmoil.
Rollo Flamme
Rollo looks at the period cramp simulator with his usual air of disdain. "I fail to see the point of this exercise," he says, folding his arms. But with a raised eyebrow from you, he sighs and reluctantly agrees. âFine. If only to demonstrate that I can endure whatever nonsense you find amusing.â
He straps it on, looking every bit like heâs about to endure a great trial of fortitude. "Proceed," he says, as if commanding an army.
At level one, Rollo barely flinches. He keeps his usual stoic expression. "Is that all?" he asks, voice flat. But as you increase the intensity, his composure begins to crack. By level three, heâs shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw tightens, but he's still maintaining his dignityâbarely.
"Interesting... sensation," he mutters between clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice steady.
By level four, the calm façade is gone. Rolloâs knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair, and his expression is a mix of panic and fury. "This... device is an affront to decency!" he hisses, his face reddening. "Surely no one can focus through suchâ"
You take it up one more notch.
"TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT!" Rollo practically yells, his voice cracking as he doubles over, utterly betrayed by his own pride. His normally regal posture is completely gone, replaced by a man clinging to survival.
When you finally switch off the simulator, heâs left panting and disheveled, glaring at you like youâve committed a personal offense. "That... was barbaric," he wheezes, trying to regain his composure. âIâll never question your complaints again. That was⊠inhumane.â He straightens his robes and avoids eye contact, the flush in his cheeks refusing to fade.
"Honestly," he mutters, still flustered, "what vile invention is this world coming to?"
Masterlist
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#leona x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#rollo flamme x reader#rollo x reader#malleus draconia x reader#malleus x reader
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ok but bsd chapter 114 revealing the flipside of the soukoku dynamic in all its glory like *chef's kiss*
turns out that when the mission's (almost) done and you put skk in a room with no witnesses they just become each other
dazai is the one unable to stay still, agitated and wearing his emotions openly and very much stressing about a plan he can't understand (how the tables do turn), literally YELLING and RUNNING of his own violation and doing actual labor of pulling out "fyodor" from beneath a whole ass helicopter while injured without asking for help because the brawns of the team is actually secretly a black cat character
insane how chuuya makes dazai look like the overactive dog archetype here like Mister Gravity Control and I Crack Walls & Chains With One Kick is just sitting full-on cheek on fist poker face watching his beanpole of a partner struggle. his health bar is like full too besides the brief drowning stint meanwhile he himself shot dazai like three times after he crawled out of a crashed elevator
(chuuya is actually such a little shit it's amazing like it was kinda shown in him just letting kunikida blow himself up without even trying to take on tecchou or as if he couldn't just fly the helicopter away with his ability? the pm's trump card, stronger half of soukoku? mans said "boss told me come get you" and by god that is the only job he will do, overtime means nothing to him because he can't read, what a king)
chuuya is literally only willing to do the BARE minimum it's hilarious like he's done his part, he's given the Oscar-winning vampire performance of a lifetime, now he's pulling a dazai-at-the-ADA and simply refusing to work like. chilling in the back while dazai monologues and fyodor dies. bouncing sigma like a tennis ball. chilling a corner while dazai brainstorms. leisurely following dazai's running. chilling in the back while dazai huffs and puffs to pull out the body.
the biggest bsd plot twist is that soukoku on and off the battle field just switch roles for who's lounging like a bored princess while the other toils and actually does the work. if they both ever actually work on something at the same time yokohama would probably explode.
#god imagine if thats how mori kept them from accidentally destroying the country#with their combined overpowered-ness and utter lack of common sense#âmori says its my turn to Thinkâ#âoh thank god i've been waiting to sit around like a useless logâ#the sigma show#soukoku#dazai osamu#nakahara chuuya#bsd#bsd manga#bsd ch 114#my post
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â° the winning hand
kinktober 24 - day twelve
featuring: aventurine x f!reader
summary: you were taken by surprise when the aventurine of the ten stonehearts requests a private match from you. although, a gamble with him requires high stakes, and even higher rewards.
tags: smut, gambling, praise, degredation (if you reaaally squint), p in v, cunnilingus, use of sex toys, public sex, petnames (sweet girl, pretty, doll), not proofread (i drank too much last night mb fam)
wc: 2.2k
âso the winner of this next round takes all?â you clarify, unsure if the man in front of you has gone insane.
âspot on, pretty. if you win, iâll be your loyal servant for the rest of the night. although if i win⊠youâll be mine.â yeah. heâs lost it.
youâre currently in a private sector for the eclipseâs executives. itâs slightly elevated from the rest of the floor, almost like a private balcony with a gorgeous view of the grand casino. how you ended up here? you donât even know. you were sipping on a sweet cocktail when aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts, requested a game from you. his assistant didnât give you time to react as he led you away from the central casino and toward a far more private, lavish, hall.
ever the gentleman he is, aventurine picked you up there and stole you away to the balcony you now find yourself at. seeing as it was too late to decline, you figured you should get the most out of this experience as he explained the rules to you.
a standard game of poker shouldnât be too hard, right? is what you tell yourself, despite struggling immensely against the man in front of you. youâve only won⊠twice? out of the many rounds youâve played and youâre getting worried, you canât keep losing like this. almost on cue, aventurine suggests one final round to decide the winner, which is how youâve ended up in your current predicament.
you eye the cards in your hand, desperately trying to keep your expression neutral. aventurine lounges across from you, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand casually toying with his chips. heâs confident. too confident.
âready, pretty?â heâs teasing you at this point. the dealer, not making a sound, reshuffles the cards before sliding them your way. you glance at your hand and immediately regret your decision, but you donât lose hope just yet.
the dealer reveals the first three cards on the table: jack of diamonds, queen of clubs, seven of spades. your stomach drops. aventurine smirks. itâs over.
with a hand like this, you shouldnât even bet, but you go all in anyway, hoping the bluff works. of course, it doesnât. he meets your bet, then raises.
the final card flips. king of hearts.
aventurine reveals his handâace and ten.
a straight.
you blink, stunned. aventurine leans forward, that damn smirk widening, âlooks like youâre mine now.â
this was it, your fate had been sealed. only god knows what this man has planned for you. you let out a long sigh, accepting your defeat before locking eyes with him, waiting for his orders.
with a quick snap of his fingers, the dealer leaves the room, disappearing through the door without a word. âstand up,â you oblige, adjusting your short dress and hair as you rise from your chair, facing him. he does a one-over on your body, taking in every inch and curve, staring like a starved man.
the room suddenly feels much smaller as youâre left in aventurineâs company. heâs still lounging on the sofa before you, but this time, a more terrifying aura radiates from him.Â
his next command is simple. with a predatory smile and commanding tone, he orders, âyour panties, take them off.â
for a second, you thought you didnât hear him right. you hesitate for a moment, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for argument. slowly, you reach through your skirt, your hands trembling slightly as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and push them down.
he holds out his hands, glancing at the panties before his gaze shifts back to you. you hand them to him as a blush creeps up your cheeks. his hand grazes yours as he takes them from you, stuffing them into his pocket with a victorious smile playing on his lips.
âoh, one more thing,â he reaches over to a small box resting on the table, opening it and taking out a small vibrator. âyouâre a smart girl so iâm sure you understand what iâm getting at. if you manage a few games without cumming, i might even reward you,â he coos. âyou like the sound of that, doll?â
even if you wanted to refuse, you know you couldnât. begrudgingly, you put the vibrator in your, now naked, pussy, letting out a soft sigh as it enters you. as much as you should be disgusted right now, youâre filled with nothing but adrenaline facing the man in front of you. the fear that you once had now slowly turning into excitement.
he sets up the next round of poker, shuffling a new deck of cards and sliding some your way. âno need to bet with chips anymore, if you manage to win as much as one game, iâll make sure youâre cumming on me tonight.â his voice suddenly shifts into a darker tone âalthough, if you fail⊠weâll keep up this little game of ours until you're begging on your knees for me.â
the hums of the vibrator fill the room as he turns it on from the small remote in his hand. any fear you shouldâve felt from his threat going straight to your core, letting out a small moan at the danger.
the next few hours weâre nothing but agonising pain. you played his cruel game, as he abused the power he had over you, making you crumble for him. you were close? too damn bad, he turned the vibrator off, leaving you whimpering in agony. you tried bluffing? he saw right through it and set the vibrator to pulse inside of you, only switching it back to normal once you confessed your lie. sometimes youâd even be so distracted by the sweet pleasure between your thighs that your hand would accidentally slip, giving aventurine a complete view of your cards. but lady luck was on your side today as somehow, somehow, you beat him. maybe he let you and you didnât notice as you were too distracted by the vibrating pleasure or perhaps you just got lucky. either way, you celebrated your victory, excited for what came ahead.
âcongratulations, sweetheart,â he leaves the sofa for the first time tonight, slowly approaching you. âiâm a man of my word,â he kneels in front of you, pushing your legs apart. âi wonât stop until youâre cumming all over my tongue.â
without any further warning, he removes the vibrator, leaving you empty, only to replace it with his tongue.
he eats you out like itâs his last day alive. sucking, biting and slurping on your pussy. âso good,â he muffles, âyou taste so fucking good.â
he continues to lap your folds, stuffing your cunt with his tongue and sometimes nibbling on your clit. heâs so shameless too, not attempting to hide any noises he makes while drinking you up. the longer he eats you out, the more dissolved his words get. filthy encouragements and teasing praises slowly turning into incoherent babbles, growling against your cunt. each vibration going straight toward your impending orgasm.
âyou close, pretty? can feel you shaking around my tongue,â he says with one last lick on your folds before you come undone all over his face. your orgasm hits you like a wave, your juices crashing down on aventurineâs mouth.
he pulls back, slowly rising from his knees. âfuckâ you taste divine,â he licks any excess juices from his face, âcould eat this pretty pussy every day.â he grabs your hand, pulling you up from your chair and bringing you to the sofa he was once lounging on, âbut that wouldnât be any fun now, would it?â he bends you over with your back to the casino table, giving you a perfect view of the central casino.
âtry not to attract too much attention, sweet girl.â with that, he hikes up your tiny dress and enters you in one slow, painful thrust. you moan at the sensation, definitely attracting a few curious eyes from below, but youâre in to deep to care anymore. he lets out a sigh of relief as he bottoms out, feeling your tight cunt already squeezing him.
âhahâ so tight fâme,â he started to rock into you at a slow pace, taking his sweet time destroying you. as much as he desperately wanted to give into his primal urges, rutting into like thereâs no tomorrow, he wanted to keep his promise. he wanted you to completely come apart on his dick, turning you into his little fucked-out doll. his one hand rest on your hip, keeping him steady as he moves inside you while the other snakes its way down to your clit, teasing your overstimulated bud.
the pleasure is overwhelming, leading you closer to your orgasm by the second, moaning out praises for the blonde behind you. âaah~ so goodâ iâm so close!â you can barely get the words out, but once you do, he canât hold back anymore. âgonna make a mess on my dick, pretty?â he speeds up, thrusting at a faster pace, fingers working harder too.
âyou close, doll?â he vibrates against your ear, âthatâs my good girl⊠go on, cum on my dick, make a mess for me.âÂ
that was all it took to push you over the edge, you clenched him tightly as your second orgasm hit you. moaning out his name as you gripped the balcony railing, letting yourself come undone for him. it didnât take him long until he was also reaching his high, swiftly pulling out and releasing his cum all over your ass and back, staining your dress.
after he releases his grasp on you, you collapse on the sofa, breathless and still sensitive from the little game you both played. he takes his place next to you, moving your legs to rest on his lap. âlooks like your dress is stained,â he traces a line down your leg. âgive me your number. iâll arrange a replacement.â
after exchanging numbers, you clean yourself up as much as possible before heading to the exit.
âoh, and sweetheart,â he calls out to you before you can leave. âcall me when you want your rematch.â
taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network
©lumis kinktober 24' â do not translate, repost, copy any of my works
#â° â the devils month#ambrose.fics#kinktober#kinktober 2024#hsr smut#hsr x reader smut#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x reader smut#honkai star rail smut#aventurine smut#aventurine x reader#aventurine x reader smut#aventurine hsr#aventurine x reader
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â isnât it delicate?
luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: a little bit of fighting
summary: how did game night turn into your first kiss with the boy youâve been crushing on at camp?
a/n: itâs kind of all over the place and i didnât proofread it so i apologize ahead of time!
this ain't for the best
across the dim-lit cabin eleven, luke could still spot your twinkling eyes that were attracted to the dice rolling in front of you. the euphonious laughter coming from your lips sounded like music to his ears. how your head slowly tilted backwards before catching your balance and opening your mouth once again.
my reputation's never been worse, so
he thanked the âgodsâ that your cabin agreed to game night as he was almost begging on his knees to your half-siblings that it was a once-in-a-summer experience and they would miss out.
he wasnât lying, with the stoll twins creating a game tournament behind the little white lie that hermes cabin was just introducing the newbies to fun sleepovers for bonding and friend making, to keep chiron happy and out of their business.
you must like me for me
lounging around in his cabin, trying to take his mind off of the possibility of your cabin, more importantly, you entering the door, luke was making everyoneâs beds. as an annoying chore that all the campers avoided, they dared not to interfere or ask him why he was rapidly fluffing pillows and folding blankets.
we can't make
but as his best friend, chris put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. âyou can calm down yâknow. itâs only likeâsix oâclock only.â he pointed to the clock above the treacherously haunting front door. luke sighed and sat down on one of the beds, running his hands through his dark curls.
any promises now, can we, babe?
âbut this was the perfect opportunity!â he suddenly exclaimed but quickly lowered his voice once surrounding campers looked at him.
âperfect opportunity to do what exactly? youâve talked to her like twiceâat a max three if you count her saying hi to you this morning.â chris reminded and sat beside the sulking boy. he yet again put a hand on his shoulder, giving a little reassuring pat.
but you can make me a drink
luke faced his best friend to respond but there was a knock at the door that interrupted him. chris thanked whoever it was, or else he wouldâve had to witness luke spiral and start his crazy overthinking. a camper near the door went to go reach for the handle but a loud voice stopped him.
âwait! i-iâll get it!â luke jumped from his seat, giving chris a scare.
dive bar on the east side, where you at?
he rushed to the door as the startled camper now backed away, obviously not wanting to go against the cabin counselor. before turning the handle, he took a deep breath and slightly adjusted his hair. chris mentally cringed at the sight of his best friend being so nervous, yet it was quite funny.
phone lights up my nightstand in the black
mr. cool guy, head counselor, and âbest swordsmanâ at camp was nervous about whether a cabin accepted his proposal of joining hermesâ cabin for a night of monopoly and poker. yes, possibly hilarious even. stifling a laugh, he watched luke open the door with a resounding sense of false confidence.
around ten to twenty campers of all ages were standing in front of him with pillows, blankets, and snacks in hand. for a moment, he was frozen.
come here, you can meet me in the back
not in fright, heâd seen most of these kids wincing on the ground during sword training or fall of the rock wall mid climb, he was the one teaching and catching them.
he was stunned because you werenât in sight.
âwelcome! you guys can chill and relax, meet your friends, and start on games! luke and i will be there in a bit!â someone announced from behind him, alarming just a little. but he easily recognized the voice of his best friend saving his ass.
dark jeans and your nikes, look at you
the excitedly hyper campers burst into the cabin, amping up the noise a couple levels. while they were coming in, luke was stuck in a trance once more but not cause of jitters or worry but because of you and your mere presence.
oh damn, never seen that color blue
as the campers of your cabin were entering the blaring room, you found lukeâs eyes. softening your expression, you smiled at the familiar face.
dazed, luke stood straight until chris nudged his side and returned to attending to the campers as promised. leaving the two of you alone and the lack of lukeâs acknowledgement of your existence, you decided to clear the awkward air.
just think of the fun things we could do
(cause i like you)
âhey luke.â maintaining your sweet demeanor, you closed the door behind you from letting in more of the cool summer air into the warm cabin.
this ain't for the best
as if someone snapped their fingers, luke blinked and returned to reality. his chest rose while he took another deep breath to calm himself and returned your smile.
ây/n, you came!â he regretted his choice of words and tone the second it came out of his mouth. gritting his teeth, he swore to let you do most of the talking from now on.
my reputation's never been worse, so
âof course i did! iâm known as the âmonopoly masterâ so you know i just had to come to defend my honor.â you emphasized the âhadâ but deep down you knew it was a simple yes or no question when your cabin asked if you wanted to go. as cabin counselor, you were supposed to always keep an eye on the campers but it was just one night anyway.
you must like me for me (yeah, i want you)
you debated it in your head, did you really want to leave your cozy bed next to your best friends to play some board games with chaotic and overexcited children who were some of the worst sore losers youâve ever encountered? no.
we can't make
but before you could refuse, your best friend stepped in. in a sing-songy voice, she added a detail that may have swayed your decision making just an inch.
any promises now, can we, babe?
âhermes cabin is hosting itâaka castellanâs cabin.â she smiled at her comment and crossed her eyes with both eyebrows raised. waiting for your answer, you bit your lip and looked to the floor.
okay, so spending your night with campers full of sugar and crying sore losers but luke castellan possibly sparing you a glance and perhaps maybe even a few words? fine, youâd make an appearance.
but you can make me a drink
now here you were, both of your maybes becoming certainlyâs. your words were coming out quickly, way faster than you wanted them to. were you rambling? no. yes. no. definitely.
is it cool that i said all that?
why in the heavens did you just say âmonopoly masterâ?! why was he not speaking? was he just being friendly by saying hi? of course he was.
is it chill that you're in my head?
you looked away in search of your friends or anyone at this point to make this conservation a little less awkward. but everyone was already sitting and playing games or conversing with each other. you cursed your head for telling you to come, how did you possibly think that he would talk to yoâ
a laugh.
he was laughing with the brightest smile ever, his eyes still remaining on yours though. he had one of those contagious laughs, immediately urging you to join him. you couldnât help yourself but follow, making the both of you look like two crazy idiots laughing at nothing but air.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
âwell i think we better see if your honor will be challenged later tonight, miss âmonopoly masterââ he replied and gave a light-hearted grin.
you couldâve sworn that your heart just fluttered and there was something flying in your stomach. catching your breath, you walked towards the laid out board games where luke was right on your tail. his footsteps were only inches from yours, wanting to be close to you as possible.
is it cool that i said all that?
now luke was admiring your laugh once again. someone wouldâve had to drag him with all their strength out of that cabin before his eyes were peeled off of you.
unbeknownst to you, he had been staring ever since the game had began. opting out of this round, he joined chrisâ team mid game but remained quiet the rest of the time.
is it too soon to do this yet?
you couldnât figure out why he wasnât speaking. he was usually peppy and very talkative, so youâve heard and seen, but never really experienced. luke was very popular in every group, with the kids who saw him as a role model, those who saw him as their fearless counselor, and especially the girls who fawned over him and his every move (you).
'cause i know that it's delicate
so why was the socially favored extrovert sitting still, fiddling his thumbs from time to time. keeping your head in the game, you could only look up whenever it was chrisâ turn, using it as an excuse to peek at him who was almost like a shadow.
isnât it, isn't it, isn't it?
with such little lighting, only his facial features were highlighted from the candle next to luke. you didnât mind though as his sharp nose, faint scar and rare flash of a smile were still in view.
isnât it?
suddenly there was a furious roar of thunder outside, enough to get your attention. you felt an elbow nudge you to the right, making you turn to face your best friend next to you. she leaned in, making sure no one except you heard her whisper.
âare you gonna to go or just keep drooling and dreaming about your boy?â
isnât it, isn't it, isn't it?
only your eyes widened, now staring back at your friend, dumbfounded. she gave you a âstop making it obvious and go!â look and you kept your eyes down, on the monopoly board. grabbing the two dice and rolling for your turn, you moved your piece and unfortunately landed on a space that chris occupied.
isnât it delicate?
you groaned in both not wanting to lose and the inconvenience that the universe continued to hand you. however, chris was everything but disappointed, two seconds away from jumping up and down in excitement. you had somehow avoided getting caught in someone elseâs city for about ten turns in a row, but now you were stuck by the person you were actually avoiding.
or at least his team memberâs.
third floor on the west side, me and you
paying in full to a happy chris, you didnât catch lukeâs chuckle at your expense. not in a âha ha weâre going to winâ way but because of how upset you truly looked. he thought it was cute how badly you wanted to strangle chris for costing you six-hundred million and potentially the win.
âseems like your winning streak is coming to an end!â chris implied and put his hands together as if he was thanking you.
handsome, you're a mansion with a view
you narrowed your eyes, just adding fuel to the fire of your competitive nature. for gods sake, you were an ares kid. tonight, it sure didnât seem like it though. with your stumbling introduction and now your downfall in monopoly!
âwhat is the meaning of this!â
everyone collectively jumped and stopped what they were doing, no matter if it was playing cards, a pillow fight, shoving candies in their mouths, or jumping on the beds. even without turning, the voice was evident in its owner: mr. d.
do the girls back home touch you like i do?
âi want everyone in their cabins now! ares cabin return and go to bed right this instance. i will check to see if you are all there, with the lights off soon.â he demanded in a stern voice, forcing your cabin to rapidly grab their belongings and run out the door, unable to even say their âgoodbyeâs.â
long night with your hands up in my hair
âhermes cabin, i want you all to clean this mess up in no more than an hour. i will also come to check that this place is tidy as earlier and that you are all in bed, sleeping. all of you will receive punishments tomorrow morning at six am in the mess hall. do not be late.â he continued, but the last of words left campers moaning and muttering in defeat.
echoes of your footsteps on the stairs
you were collecting your campers and pushing them towards the exit, about to do the same yourself until chiron interfered.
ânot you, ms. y/l/n.â
slowly turning to look up in confusion, he continued. âas head counselor of ares cabin, you know the responsibility you earn with that title, correct?â
stay here, honey, i don't wanna share
putting your head down, you avoided his eye contact but nodded. you caught one of the last campers and told them to do as they were told and you would be back soon.
âmr. castellan, i want to speak to you as well.â he insisted and luke reluctantly made his way next to you. something he would never refuse to.
this ain't for the best
âiâm very disappointed in the both of you. knowing both of you were the head counselors of your cabins, i thought you would do the best in keeping them in order and avoiding such events but i was clearly mistaken. câmon guys, there are only like five major camp rules!â he explained, putting his fingers to his temples and crossing his eyes.
my reputation's never been worse, so
briefly giving each other glances, you mouthed âweâre so screwedâ to luke who seemed very relaxed compared to your tense figure. sure, youâd gotten in trouble maybe once or twice but first of all, that was trouble by yourself which meant not costing your entire cabin punishment and it was very unintentionally, making mr. d let you off the hook since it was your first offense.
you must like me for me (yeah, i want you)
however, those were the only times you had ever been caught. there were countless times where you had secretly broken the rules by sleeping in your other friendsâ cabins, entering the forest by yourself, switching your seat during meals, and staying in your cabin past eleven at night. one that you have broken yet again.
in response to your nervousness, luke smirked.
we can't make
âwhy the hell are you smiling?â you mouthed but he looked at mr. d now, quite mischievously if you may add.
âmr. d, we terribly apologize for the inconvenience and we swear to never do this ever again, this will be the first and only time.â luke spoke with such sincerity in his tone. he only prayed that mr. d could not detect his lie of it being his first to host.
any promises now, can we, babe?
âwell thank you luke, but you two are stilââ
âwe are so sorry that we thought it would be best if we made it up to you. perhaps that bottle of 1985 chĂąteau haut-brion in the galley that has been calling your name ever since it arrived?â luke swiftly suggested, eyebrows raised in persuasion.
but you can make me a drink
mr. d stood invested in luke every word, deeply interested in his statement. he took a breath, almost coming to a realization that luke was trying to bribe him but then he put his index finger to his finger, actually thinking about the offer.
is it cool that i said all that?
you were shocked, in the least. luke castellan was not only a troublemaker and a liar but a hell of a good one. in any of other circumstance, you would be hesitant about bringing up such a suggestion to mr. d but if it meant no punishment for you or luke then you were all for it.
is it chill that you're in my head?
âmr. d, when was the last time youâve had wine? câmon you and i both know that diet coke wonât cut it for tonight, i mean itâs friday night!â you stepped in and added in on the coercion.
following your voice, mr. dâs head whipped to face you, definitely tipping the scale towards a âyesâ now. luke watched proud at you chasing his suggestion, now with full confidence in his chest.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
âare two seriously saying that you guys would go down to the galleyâŠget that merlotâŠand bring it back here to meâŠ?â he repeated and narrowed his eyes.
for a second, you guys were back into your frozen positions until mr. d responded to himself. âcause if you guys are going to do that, then we can just forget about all this.â he admitted, sort of laughing at the mess around the cabin.
is it cool that i said all that?
after agreeing to your end of the bargain, mr. d had let you both off the hook. by the time everything was settled, the campers had finished cleaning up and everyone was ready for bed. therefore, in order to not disturb them, the two of you took a moment outside before you had to run back to ares cabin.
is it too soon to do this yet?
the cabin luckily had an overhead covering near the front door, creating a safety net for you two from the rain. it was raining heavy, yet it wasnât cold and the summer air still remained. it always rained on the first week of august, like a set reminder to the campers that time was slipping away.
'cause i know that it's delicate
both of you were already slightly drenched from running to the galley and back but using the trees and several camp buildings on the way, you managed to stay quite dry. you couldnât say the same for luke though, he shook his wet hair to dry off, in search and need of a towel.
âjesusâyouâre acting like a wet dog.â you commented and kept moving your head to dodge the water droplets flicking in your direction. trying to maintain a straight face, you kept a tight-lipped smile but laughs slipped from your lips.
isnât it, isn't it, isn't it?
âwhy you donât like it? youâre getting a free shower right now, i think you should be grateful!â
his sarcasm was abundant and stepped closer to you while matching your laughter. you backed up into the outer cabin wall, as he continued to approach until he was only inches away from your face. even with the rain surrounding the pair, you could hear his breathing after his laughs.
isnât it?
he stayed with a smile on his face, such admiration found in his eyes while staring at you. automatically there was a tug on the corners of your lips, a genuine smile creeping onto your face. he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face, placing it behind your ear.
isnât it, isn't it, isn't it?
you stayed put, reaching out to the wall supporting your weight. your heart sped up as he got closer, feeling his body heat on yours. you parted your lips to speak but he beat you to it.
âyouâre beautiful.â
isnât it delicate?
his words melted into you, the only warmth in the middle of the rain. you blinked three times before confirming that this was reality, it wasnât a dream or a fantasy, it was real.
luke castellan had just called you beautiful. the man you were crushing over since heâd pinned you on the ground in capture the flag last year.
sometimes i wonder, when you sleep
no one had ever dared to come near you, too much in fear how old easily you could defeat them. but luke liked a challenge, thus he went straight for it and ignored the rest of plan. something he would definitely pay for later by a pissed annabeth.
he found you in the middle of the forest, the closest person to guarding your teamâs flag. he had battled a couple of rouge kids on the way, effortlessly blocking and knocking them down.
are you ever dreaming of me?
he took pride in his swordsmanship and ability to fight, when he first arrived, all he would do was train and practice, day and night.
all of it paid off though in the end, earning the title of âbest swordsman at campâ and being quite the deal when it came to activities like capture the flag. however, campers still came at luke, sword in hand. while you were all alone, the only thing accompanying you being the geckos that slithered in the area.
sometimes when i look into your eyes
as a child of ares, you most definitely had a temper, but otherwise you were known to be one of the more âcomposedâ siblings unlike clarisse who would fight a bug that got in her way. you stood out because of your swordsman skills though, climbing up the ranking until you were right below luke.
on the day of capture the flag, you swore that you would beat him and then steal the title he so proudly wore. but when he did arrive to your position near the flag, he didnât cower in fear or come straight charging at you.
i pretend you're mine all the damn time
instead he casually walked towards you, sword in hand of course but he didnât even hold it up. he held it like some sort of an accessory, as if heâd never held one before. almost excited to see a person after hours of waiting though, you instantly jumped at the opportunity, discarding his relaxed posture.
is it cool that i said all that?
gripping your sword, you charged first, something you usually did not do but the greed in achieving the title made you think otherwise. he bested you though, eventually proving himself to you why he was known as the âbest swordsman at camp.â he ran off with the flag while you were left with a gash on your right arm.
is it chill that you're in my head?
even though after his team won the game and luke had beat you at your most respected trait, he immediately approached you afterwards. this time, he wasnât holding a sword or wearing armor but just his camp shirt and cheery demeanor. you couldâve bet that it wasnât him and a completely different camper.
âhey, iâm really sorry about what happened back there. is your arm okay?â he asked, now with worry in his voice like he was one of your close friends or half-siblings.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
you looked at him weird, confused at the sudden switch-up in his actions. ây-yeah iâm fine.â you responded and looked to join your half-siblings in plotting some devious revenge or something.
but he grabbed your wrist, making sure to not hold the wrong arm. âare you sure? i can walk you to the nurse if you want?â he insisted and pointed to the infirmary that was just down the path.
(yeah, i want you)
âseriously iâm fine.â you continued. it wasnât like you hated the guy but for someone who just swung a sword at your face and cut your arm, he was surprisingly considerate.
âohâokay. you were really good out there, iâve never met anyone else at camp who had their sword so close to my neck.â he joked, attempting to clear the seriously awkward air.
is it cool that i said all that?
you have him a half smile, trying to take his off in lightening the mood. âthanks, i can clearly see why youâre the âbest swordsman at camp.ââ to which he lightly chuckled.
âyeah yeah, but i think you might take that title from me next time!â he mentioned. you couldnât even tell if he was being sarcastic or not, too distracted with his charming smile.
is it too soon to do this yet?
after that day, luke castellan had been stuck in your mind. youâd see him in the mess hall during meals and passing on campus with his friends, but you never got the courage to talk to him again like you did after capture the flag. maybe it was because you were so annoyed and he just happened to be the first person you ran into! whatever it was, you couldnât stop thinking about him. no matter what.
'cause i know that it's delicate (delicate)
under similar circumstances, luke watched you quickly dismiss his offer of accompanying you to the nurse and walk off to join the ares kids. you looked back once, probably to see if he was watching you or not and he easily got caught, his eyes lingering. once being noticed, the ares kids started laughing but so did you.
is it cool that i said all that? (isnât it?)
even though they were clearly laughing at him, for once he didnât mind it. he couldnât even see the other kids as you were the only one in view. your hair swaying in the wind as your head moved back and forth. your laugh was sweet, putting a smile on his face as it continued.
is it chill that you're in my head? (isnât it, isn't it?)
afterwards, he found his eyes attracted to you. if you were at the arts and crafts table or in the archery range, he wasnât focused on the task at hand or his campers asking a million questions.
he would use his head counselor advantages to sneak glances at you across the field from time to time. pretending to look for a âmissingâ camper or informing his friends that he thought there was a rare bird sighting, his gaze fixated on you.
'cause i know that it's delicate (isn't it delicate?)
your eyes twinkled in the faded moonlight, water drops laying on your eyelashes. lukeâs damp hair aided his curls, his fresh scent seeping through the rain. he reached for your waist as you went for his shoulder, closing the gap between you two.
shutting your eyes, you went for it.
your whispered, unsteady breath indicated your nervousness but it was now or never. lukeâs arms curled around your waist, pulling you in completely until your lips met. your hands unconsciously wrapped around his neck, embracing the kiss.
(yeah, i want you)
if you both werenât holding onto each other, your knees may have buckled right then and there. lukeâs chest was pounding, almost loud enough to hear but was too invested in how the other tasted. his lips were soft, a delicate touch that matched his behavior. even with lukeâs certainly intimidating figure, he was always sweet and made sure to show his caring abilities towards campers. this was the first time that you felt it firsthand.
is it cool that I said all that? (isnât it?)
he could tell you were hesitant at first, suddenly pulling slightly away in the beginning but becoming familiar with the feeling. a fire was lit in the pit of your stomach, signaling you to continue. luke could feel it too, your body reaching for his.
now breathless, both of you pulled back, still your hands remaining where they were. his eyes were wide as if you had opened a new world to him. you couldnât help it but swallow, waiting for him to break the silence.
is it too soon to do this yet? (isnât it, isn't it?)
âi like you. a lot.â
a little startled, you were left speechless but after observing his worried expression, you had to let him know you felt the same.
âi do tooâlike you a lot. if you couldnât tell.â you joked and smiled at him.
'cause i know that it's delicate
that was when he realized he needed this girl. he couldnât bear to see her smile or laugh with someone else. he wouldnât let it happen, because his heart was yearning for her. and her only.
a similar grin crept up his face, making you understand why you wanted him so much. his alluring smile had gotten you again, whisking you away from your deepened emotions and warming your heart.
isnât it delicate?
there was only one possible question you could ask now:
âcan i kiss you again?â
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#lc#pjo series#pjo tv show#pjo x reader#percy jackson#percy pjo
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never going back again - 02
summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup
simon âghostâ riley x innocent fem!reader
warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining
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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,
"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"
What you did all day,
"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"
It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.
"I thought you were good at cooking"
"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.
He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"
"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"
"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,
He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"
"Let you what"
"Cook, I'll make dinner"
"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.
"Where'd you learn to cook?"
"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"
"They don't feed you at work?"
"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"
"Did your mum cook?"
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"
"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"
He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,
"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"
He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,
"So what are you making?"
"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"
"French toast?"
"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"
You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,
"Well, it smells great"
The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,
"You can't be serious"
"What'd I do?"
"That's like a cup of syrup"
"So?"
"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"
"What if they already have"
You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"
"You don't have to turn away you know"
You make a small huh? in response,
"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"
"I just assumed"
"I know, but you don't have to turn away"
"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. âHowâs your cutâ
âHealing, thanks to you, still tenderâ
âCan Iâ You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.
He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.
You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,
âSorryâ
âDoesnât hurtâ
You tilt your head to him and heâs watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.
âThat should doâ
âThank youâ
âItâs nothingâ
âThank youâ He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.
"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"
"You trying to kick me out?"
"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"
"There isn't"
You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"
"Right"
There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.
"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.
He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.
You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,
"You scared me"
"You were having a nightmare"
"Yeah, they happen sometimes"
It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,
He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,
"Simon"
He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.
"Will you stay, it's just"
He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"
"Please"
"Of course"
You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.
You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.
You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.
"Do you have something in your pocket?"
He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,
"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.
"It's fine"
He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,
"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"
"Thank you"
You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.
You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.
You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.
You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.
âWhereâs the kettle?â
âTop left cabinetâ
You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,
âThanksâ
He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.
âEverything okay?â
âYeah, yep, just making teaâ
âOkay, bags are in the lower cupboardâ
He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.
âShitâ He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, heâd never had soft before always jagged and dark.
His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,
âAre you any good at fixing things?â
âDepends, what needs fixingâ
âThe shutters outside, theyâre falling apartâ
âI could give them a lookâ
You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.
The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.
âI think youâre his new favouriteâ
Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.
âStrangeâ
âHeâs not strangeâ
âNot him just, Iâve never had a cat do thisâ
âWell get used to itâ
He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.
âThe shuttersâ
You set your cup down, nodding at him, âThereâs some tools in the shed outside, not sure whatâs left but maybe theyâd helpâ
âIâll get right on it thenâ
It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.
Iâm hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.
âBeerâ
Itâs the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes heâd stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.
âCheers, love oneâ
Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.
âMust be hot with the maskâ
âGet used to itâ
You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he canât tell if youâre teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.
âHowâs it lookingâ
âGreatâ
âSo youâre almost doneâ
âHuh?â His eyes pull back to yours,
âAre you almost done, itâs getting unbearable out hereâ
âYeah, nearly thereâ
âGreat, Iâll be insideâ
The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didnât involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.
âMind if I shower, Iâm covered in sweatâ
âYea of courseâ Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, âTowels are in the washroomâ
He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,
âYou alright?â You call
âYeah, just soreâ
âWell hurry up, Iâll check your stitchesâ
You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.
âFigured itâs easier if I just put my shirt on laterâ
He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,
âSure, easierâ
He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise theyâre doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.
âSâgood, should be able to take them out soonâ
âGreatâ
âMight leave a scarâ
âAdds to the collectionâ
You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.
âIâm fineâ
âI know you areâ
âIt only hurts a little, when it happensâ
âAnd someone did this to youâ
âA few peopleâ
âHow many is a few?â You stare at him with rounded eyes,
âNothing you need to worry aboutâ
You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,
âI guess we should sleep nowâ His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,
âSimon, would you- nevermindâ
âWhat do you need?â
âI felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldnât have any, you knowâ
âYeah, Iâd like that- you not having nightmaresâ He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.
âOkayâ You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, âIâll keep the lights off if you wantâ
He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.
He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.
Youâre asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable heâd been in years, maybe ever and be didnât dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.
He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,
âGood morning kittyâ
He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that heâs not wearing a mask, itâs light out, and youâre not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.
He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.
âMorninâ
You turn around with a wide smile, âSleep well?â You ask, leaning against the counter,
âBest in yearsâ Heâs being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then heâd accept it with open arms.
âGood, cause I think I found that wire you neededâ
His heart sinks in an instant, âYou did?â
âI think so, was tucked back in the drawerâ
âOh, Iâll see if itâs the right one thenâ
You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.
âThe bathrooms got mold in itâ It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.
âHuh?â You turn with your brows furrowed,
âThe bathroom, noticed it last night, I canât fix it if youâd likeâ
âAre you sure, I didnât see anyâ
âEasy to miss sometimes, itâs just near the drain, shouldnât take more than a day to clean upâ
âYeah sure, just let me know what you needâ
He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,
Now Iâve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.
#cod mw2#simon riley x reader#simon riley#cod mw x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost x reader#mw2022#simon riley fluff#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost angst
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âč SEMI-CHARMED LIFE
SHE COMES 'ROUND AND SHE GOES DOWN ON ME AND I MAKE HER SMILE LIKE A DRUG FOR YOU . . . ft. Sigma and Osamu Dazai
wc: 6.4k
cw: sigma x dazai x gn(they/them)+afab!reader, post-canon/canon divergent, language, some plot, explicit sexual contentâMINORS DO NOT INTERACT, threesome, coaching/guiding, fingering, handjobs, cunnilingus, nipple play, penetration, double penetration, double creampie, spit, teasing, dirty talk, so much kissing, praise, communication, squirting, soft sex, rough sex, hints of fluff and angst, soft dazai, a little bit of mean dazai, switch leaning soft dom!dazai, switch leaning sub!+virgin!sigma, switch!reader, pet names (baby, sweetheart, slut, whoreâlast two used very affectionately), use of cunt/pussy referring to readerâs anatomy, gambling/strip poker, alcohol+slight dubcon on account of that but otherwise all parties are happily consenting prior, references to pm!reader (and ada!sigma if you squint) but itâs not super relevant, some spoilers for vampire infection outbreak arc/prison break, god will judge me when iâm dead
reid: i have limited knowledge of texas holdem and a huge boner for sigzai. thatâs all enjoy
âč âč âč
âSon of a bitch.â
You sigh and lift your martini to your lips again. It should be too late for a martini, but Sigma's living quarters in the casino is outfitted with a less-than-modest liquor cabinet and while he didn't strike you as much of a drinker himself at firstânot while he was on the job, anywayâhe could bartend like you wouldnât have believed had you never seen him do it. Vodka martini, no olive, please.
He had transferred it from his hand to yours with a soft smile that echoed his customer service face; however, he was significantly and refreshingly off the clock, so he addressed you playfully, â007,â as he did and laughed a little as he settled back onto the bed, cross-legged in a triangle made up of you, him, and Dazai.
But that was hours ago. The martini you sip now is your third, and Dazai had graciously made himself at home enough to messily pour up shots between poker games, so itâs safe to say youâre at least a little drunk. Sigma had been looking on in quiet irritation at him spilling remnants of expensive alcohol all over the expensive snakewood. The casino manager couldnât seem to help but be disarmed by the detective every time he turned around, though, face beneath his messy brown hair alight with intoxication and beaming as he distributed yet another over-poured ounce of sake to both of you still on the duvet. You all drank, poker commenced, money was won and lost.
But that was just the first game. Thereâs higher stakes this time around.
âI have to fold.â You curse at your shitty hand once more and glance to Dazai, whoâs flicking all of his little plastic chips toward the pot.
Of course it was Dazai whoâd suggested the stipulations for this game, and of course itâs Dazai who is now letting the words âIâm all inâ roll off his tongue while he looks charmingly bored and tipsy.
A few games would not be enough to figure out Dazaiâs tells. In fact, a few hundred games would probably not be enough to learn to read him. If it wasnât evident enough already from his excitement about the idea that he was unconcerned about his chances of being the one with the most clothing left on, itâs certainly evident in the way heâs relaxed now, his fist propping him up by his cheekbone. He peeks at his cards again from where he lounges on his side before he looks up to Sigma with bright eyes and a grin, quiet with mischief.
Sigma could go either way, it seems, from the way his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth as he idles with an unruly stack of chips. Heâs far more expressive, but this is his livelihood; it showed when he faked Dazai out of a 30,000 yen pot last game. Still, this time, this showdown, he pushes the rest of his pile into the center. All in.
The detective flips his cards, pinched between his middle and index finger. Straight flush.
Sigma clicks his tongue and whips his cards down onto the duvet. Straight.
âHah!â Dazai kicks his feet like a child before sitting up to hoard the large pile. âYou both know the rules,â he sings, copying Sigmaâs posture as he grabs handfuls of his newly-won chips and lets them rain down over his head. A couple fall into his empty whisky glass.
You and Sigma look briefly at one other before both holding your drinks out for the conniving bastard in front of you to hold, which he does. Thereâs no agreed-upon piece with which you would begin to undress, so, like any sane person, you reach for your socks.
âMh-mm,â Dazai hums his dissent through a sip of your martini. âI wanna change one rule. Losers have to undress each other.â
You roll your eyes. âItâs socks, Osamu.â
âPrecedent,â he claims with a shrug, switching to take a sip of Sigmaâs French 75.
So you and Sigma commence removing each otherâs socks in a way that particularly lacks even a little sexiness, but when Dazai starts giggling, you both do, too. You ball Sigmaâs socks up and toss them at Dazaiâs head, which he dodges and swats back at Sigma. Sigma chucks your own socks at you in return for the indirect fire.
âHey!â you bite jokingly through your teeth, discarding your socks off the little island of a bed that you exist on right now with these two men, and a moment of reflection strikes you as Dazai buries his face in his hands and Sigma almost tips backwards as they both laugh.
It started months ago in Meursault when you tumbled into the block where Gogol was challenging Dazai and Fyodor to his game after freeing them from the Infinite Dice Room. You, as a low-profile, high-priority Port Mafia affiliate aligned closely with the gravity user Chuuya Nakahara, had followed him into the prison as reinforcement; how Gogol and Dostoevsky were even aware of your existence then, you still arenât sure. But you ended up there, watching Dazai and Fyodor shoot up lethal poison before dispersing to make their escape. You originally stayed with Nikolai to watch it unfold, but scampered off at some point when Chuuya appeared in danger of drowning. Your ultimate goal had been to help the Detective Agency and by proxy Dazai, but youâd be damned if you stood by while your executive was in a dire situation. It all turned out well, except for Sigmaâs prolonged comatose state immediately after the prison break and everything that followed. But all that wasnât importantânot to right now, anyway.
What sticks in your mind and resurfaces now was the way you had watched on the monitor as Dazaiâa former associate of yours, to say the leastâparaded Sigma through the halls of the prison, teasing him, poking at him, dancing with him. It wouldâve been borderline-adorable behavior from anyone sane in a normal situation, but Dazai had a way of driving people to the edge with the timing of his antics, and Sigma was quick to crumble under the pressure of the circumstance. What sticks more is how quickly the casino manager surrendered his trust to the quirky brunette inmate along their journey out of the building that day.
And what sticks most is how Dazai looked at him.
You remember observing a hint of something in his gaze that was usually only reserved for people who held important information, nurses in hospitals whoâd taken his phone, occasionally you and Chuuya back in the day if he was feeling especially unhingedâthe like.
And you remember looking at Sigma the same way over the screenâall sharp features, milky skin, elegant locks, and a hot trigger finger. His conviction over his purpose was alluring to you, who always understood your purpose to be pure survival. To Dazai, whose purpose seemed to be dying. Sigma was something entirely different from either of you, and when you all reconnected by the chance of business after the chaos, it was difficult to ignore the feelings dredged up from such a stressful time. It wasnât like youâd always had your eye on Dazai or anythingâno, surely notâbut anyway, the click between the three of you back in Yokohama was inevitably pursued outside of work. A former DOA associate, an Armed Detective, and a Port Mafia subexecutive meeting up in the Sky Casino for drinks and Texas hold âem was certainly unprofessional in one capacity or another, sure, but you can hardly find it in yourself to care as Dazai hands you your martini back, face pink from cracking up.
Itâs funny to you, how you never feel out of place between them. Sigma is leaning over onto your shoulder to stifle his dying laughter. You just shake your head as Dazai picks up the cards to deal.
The next game whirls by. You are the first to end up without a shirt, where Dazai and Sigma, both with their seemingly endless respective streams of luck, split the winnings over an evenly-matched two pair. You sit sheepishly after itâs your turn to deal, trying desperately, now that youâre losing in a tangible way (the three of you never use real money), to conjure up ways to gain back some ground and maybe not finish out the night as the only one naked.
âSigma, deal,â Dazai purrs as if this isnât Sigmaâs show. You have your arms crossed over your chest as two cards flutter down in front of you, and you look at them, thinking, hopingâyes, maybe if Sigma would put a Jack down you couldâ
But any strategy youâre beginning to formulate is effectively zapped off, like a power button on a remote extinguishing a televisionâs display, as Dazai takes your wrists in his hands and guides them down to your lap.
âWhy are you sitting like that?â he asks so innocently. âYouâre hot. Stop hiding.â
Youâd be blushing if it wasnât for the alcohol making an appearance on your cheeks already. You giggle a little again, his touch making you feel more lightheaded than anything youâve drank thus far. Sigma turns to you for your action, but your eyes are locked onto Dazaiâs, so he does the only thing that makes the most sense in his own intoxicated mindâhe grips your chin, not too harshly, and turns your head toward himself, in all his pastel, angelic beauty.
âYour turn,â Sigma says gently. While he doesnât comment on what Dazai has said, and although his hand doesnât hold the same menace that Dazaiâs seems to, the tilt of his lips speaks a silent agreement.
Just as both of their fingers are beginning to overwhelm you, they retreat.
And you look down at your cards again, and your train of thought is as good as gone.
âUmâsorry, uhâŠâ
You push 6000 yen into the pot, and Dazai follows.
And soon enough, like clockwork, youâre removing your pantsâno, Dazai is removing your pants as Sigma gathers his winnings, and youâre unbuttoning Dazaiâs shirt, and this has to be some sort of plot against you, you think, because the room is suddenly hotter, nevermind the alcohol, and you swear Dazai and Sigma are exchanging looks the way you and Dazai had months ago before leaving Meursault.
But you keep your composure. If thereâs one thing you were used to dealing with, itâs sexy, scheming men, and itâs rare you ever let them get the best of you. Poker aside, you wonât crack. You canât. Your drunkenness, now subsiding into hazy exhaustion and a twinge of need you wonât admit to yourself just yet, bolsters your pride, if anything. These two will not break you. Youâll make sure itâs the other way around first.
Another two games pass, and you finally have the mind and hand to win, which is what leads you to the scene of Sigma inching Dazaiâs underwear down his thighs.
The casino managerâs face is broken out madly. Heâd lost his own shirt but in all remains the most clothed out of all three of you; your dignity is preserved in your undergarments, and Dazai only âtsks as he steps out of his boxers just to lay back down on his side, propped up on his hand, in his spot on the bed.
âWell,â the detective laments, his practiced dramatics coming out to play. âIâve officially lost. What to do nowâŠ?â
You look as unfazed as you can by Dazaiâs nudity; Sigmaâs eyes, however, are everywhere but the brunette.
You hum thoughtfully, considering your nails. You have your little heatstroke from before under control, it seems, but youâre biting your bottom lip raw at the shift in the energy of the room.
You crawl to sit against the headboard of the bed, shooing Dazai out of your way as you do soâitâs the same luxurious snakewood that the liquor cabinet is made from, and it doesnât budge when you lean back against it. Dazai sits beside you, one leg curled beneath him and the other hanging off the edge of the bed as you kick the duvet down at Sigma, adjusting yourself so your bare legs are extended and crossed at the ankle. You smirk, only softly. Dazai scoots closer to you when your pinkie wraps around one of his fingers.
Sigma, hunched in on himself at the end of the bed, breathes deeply as you turn your gaze to him and pat the spot on the other side of you. Heâs willed up by the expectant look on Dazaiâs face, and he takes his seat at your side; he looks to the brunette across your side profile, and you hook each of your legs over one of theirs.
âWhat else is there to do?â
The question comes from you as you look between them, stroking both their knuckles; Dazaiâs expression grows more sinister by the second, and he looks past you too, to Sigma, whose eyes are wide. You follow Dazaiâs vision.
Sigma gulps and finds himself nodding. He knows what at, but he canât bring himself to say it as you flick your gaze down to his parted lips.
You lean in.
âThis okay?â
Heâs still nodding. His head only stills when your hand leaves Dazaiâs and reaches up to cup his face.
And you kiss Sigma with an open mouth. He shivers and leans into you. Your hand falls back to blindly search for Dazaiâs cock.
Dazai is half-hard just watching you slip your tongue past Sigmaâs lips; you thumb his tip teasingly, giving him a few squeezes and drawing soft breaths from him as the pastel-haired man reaches up for your neck. Itâs obvious Sigmaâs never kissed anyone like this before, but he follows your lead like a first-time ballroom partner, letting you nip the beginnings of moans out of him as Dazai watches, watches.
When you pull back, Sigma is in awe. His eyes donât open for a few seconds, and you smile, endeared.
âYouâre a good kisser, Sigma.â
His eyes snap open. âR-really?â
You nod. âBut I think Osamu could train you even better.â
Something flashes across Sigmaâs faceânot discontent or anxiety but pure surprise, and you turn back to Dazai for his appraisal. Heâs biting the inside of his cheek as your fingers work him up and down, torturously slow. Before anything else can happen, you lean into Dazai; heâs eager to receive your lips, force the gasps that belong to you into your mouth. You think youâll play them like a pair of cymbals, if they let you. If Dazai lets you. Itâs looking like he might.
You tilt your head back as Dazai works his way down your throat, leaving bruising bite marks as you touch him. You find Sigma glazed over in aweâthe next thing you do is encourage his face toward yours again, so you can kiss him while Dazai marks you. You donât hold back the sighs that come from your diaphragm. Sigma swallows your breath with greed. You cup his jaw, your noses bump; he grows more confident by the second, and as Dazai traverses back up your neck, you leave him whining, removing your hand from his cock to push the two menâs faces together.
Soft hums reverberate between their kiss. You look proudly upon your work as their hands find one another, frantically, on jaws, on shoulders, on chests. Sigma reaches to pick up where you left off, but second guesses himself.
âItâs okay,â you whisper to him. âRight, Osamu?â
âMmhm.â Dazai bites into the other manâs bottom lip. Sigma yelps into the lack of air between them. You guide his hand, which finds Dazai at his base and sends him moaning into the kiss.
With your hand wrapped around Sigmaâs wrapped around Dazai, you latch onto Dazaiâs neck to return his bites. Your head buzzes with anticipation; itâs so hot to watch them, low-lidded and on two different levels of experience, talking to each other without speaking. You move Sigmaâs hand up, down, up, down. Dazai breaks away to let a full-bodied moan into the air; he makes up for contact by resting his forehead against Sigmaâs, peering down at where the two of you are working him into a mess.
âThatâs it,â Dazai pants, but he looks smug. âUnhâfeels good.â
âHear that?â With your free hand you tuck a thick lock of Sigmaâs silvery hair behind his ear as you mumble into it. âYouâre doing so good.â
âTell me what to do,â Sigma breathes, and he sounds so desperate that it makes you throb. âDonât know what âm doing, please, tell me what to do.â
âExactly what youâre already doing.â You let go of his hand and let him stroke Dazai by himself. Dazai nods weakly, needily, cock twitching as Sigma explores; the pale-haired manâs thumb circles his tip the same way yours did, but faster. When you lean over to spit on his cock over Sigmaâs hand, the brunetteâs jaw falls slack and the two melt into another kiss; you donât even have to enlist Dazaiâs hands as, through his pleasure, he fumbles for you. You uncross your ankles, and he rubs you impatiently over the final bit of cloth that remains on your body. Your lips find Sigma's throat next.
All heaving breath against each other, you move like this for a bit, learning one another. Dazai reaches to pop the button on Sigmaâs pants as heâs tugging at your underwear at the same time.
You both turn your focus to Sigma as you kick your last layer off; he stumbles upward, back onto his feet, and you and Dazai pursue him as heâs helping you both push his pants and boxers off in one collaborative swipe. Heâs never been hard like this beforeâsure, Sigmaâs not a stranger to sexual arousal, but heâs only ever touched himself. Call it a side effect of the imposter syndrome or throwing himself into his casino or the fact that this is his first time being alive, but as Dazai sits on the edge of the bed looking like a hungry animal and you toss his pants away, he canât imagine why any two people as physically gorgeous, intellectually dominant, and purpose-driven as the two of you would want to engage with him like this. Heâs excited, he canât deny itâhis cock is straining almost painfully as it bobs in the air nowâbut thereâs a line of tears forming on his lash line, and youâre fast to catch him.
âSigma,â you call him back from inside his head. Dazaiâs fingers have found his hip; they rest there tenderly. âSigma. We can stop. Itâs okay.â
âNo,â Sigma all but cries. He aches to be touched the same way you and himself were both touching Dazai. âNo, no, donât stop, I justâIâmââ
A single tear splits down his pretty pale skin. He looks back and forth between you both.
âSigma,â you say firmly. âTalk to us. Itâs important.â
âIââ He gathers himself, voice cracking only once. âI want this. I want it so bad. I canât believe I deserve it. Youâre both⊠I just donât know what Iâm doing. I donât want to... not be good.â
You look to Dazai, who looks uncharacteristically tired for a moment; itâs an understatement to say he understands exactly what Sigma is trying to articulate, but heâs not a man of sentiment, so you pick up the slack. Collaborative. You wind your fingers between Sigmaâs and lead him to sit next to Dazai.
You stand, bare, in front of the two of them, also bare; theyâre both so beautiful in their own ways. Dazai, with his dark features, cutting cheekbones, flexing jaw, bandages outlining the contours of all his lean muscle. Sigma, all heavenly light, awkward hands, unmarked skin, thin sheen of glistening sweat.
âYou don't need to worry,â you reassure him. âWe just want you. Right, Osamu?â
âMmhm,â Dazai hums again. Not a man of sentiment, but he presses a series of kisses to Sigmaâs cheek before smiling devilishly. âWeâll take care of you. How about that? Teach you how to fuck.â
Sigma shudders at his words; his eyes still flit nervously, but fall at rest when you sit opposite Dazai and run your fingertips across his thigh.
âYes,â he responds just above a whisper. âOkay.â
âOkay,â Dazai echoes.
âOkay.â And you. âCan we touch you? Or dâyou wanna watch us?â
Sigma contemplates. His cock jumps at the mere mental image of watching Dazai fuck you; he could get off like that and be totally content, but his mind drifts back to your hands, Dazaiâs hands, and how selfishly he was campaigning for you both to touch him just minutes ago. âTouch me, please.â
Now itâs you looking across Sigmaâs side profile at Dazai. He mirrors the look in your eye, and you lean over to press a kiss to the brunette's lips before you traverse the plane of Sigmaâs chest. Dazai reaches for his cock.
And just like that, Sigma is in heaven. His hands fall behind him on the bed to steady himself as Dazai goes through a motion Sigmaâs performed so many times on himself, but it feels so much better nowâhe doesnât know if itâs Dazaiâs calloused fingertips or the curling heat you both create in his pelvis by just kissing him, talking to him, loving on himâand heâs throwing his head back, embarrassed to make noise but in such ecstasy that he canât help it, wonât help it. You giggle lightheartedly against the shell of his ear when he does, and he loves it. Loves it. Wants it to last forever. Dazai sucks on his collarbone and you tweak his nipples and heâs twitching, twitching, building up so quickly heâs afraid heâll be spent soon.
"'M gonna... ohâgonna cum if you don't s-stopâ"
But it isn't a request to, so when you and Dazai's hands both leave him, he's sent reeling just like you were during the last game. Sigma's chin meets his chest as he recovers from what feels like Dazai's revenge for the bluff that worked on him earlier, and he looks at you both, glazed over with lust.
Your eyes are so warm when they slide from Dazai back to him.
âSo handsome. Youâre gorgeous, Sigma.â It hardly matters who says itâthe other agrees.
âTell us what you want.â
"Well, um," he asserts, pulling his shaky legs up into himself and leading you by the arms to pull you back to the headboard. "This part seems pretty self-explanatory. Dazai, I think you should show me how to..."
You perch at the head of the bed again as he trails off, and Dazai looks like he's ready to have fun with what's coming next.
"Show you how to...?" he prompts Sigma to finish his sentence, and Sigma's nudging his way between your legs; your lips turn upward at his burst of enthusiasm, and the words get stuck a bit as he settles on his stomach in front of you.
"Touch them. I've really never done this before." He blinks up at Dazai. Weaponized incompetence has never been so sensual.
And Dazai takes the bait and crawls next to him, gripping your thigh a little too hard as he presses his shoulder to Sigma's. "Certainly. Give it your best shot, I wanna see what I'm working with here." It's so natural for Dazai to take on the mentorship position, even in this situation. You can't help the way you giggle at them; their eyes linger on each other a second too long to imply nothing before Sigma turns his attention to you.
You think he'll start with fingering you, but he dips his head down and goes right for your cuntâyou're unable to suppress the oh! that leaves you as he licks a sensual and slow stripe from your hole to your clit. Knowing Sigma, you understand that his mind is probably still swimming with self-doubt as he rolls his eyes up to yours, but you can't find any of it. It's all too hot. His pretty pink lips undulate as he tastes you, delicately, and Dazai lets out a surprised noise of his own.
"Seems like youâre alright." Dazai's grinning. "But I'll help you out. Stay there."
So Sigma latches onto your clit, drawing another series of gasps out of you, and Dazai plunges his middle finger into you. Youâre so slick, so ready for them that there's no resistance; Sigma's experimenting with his tongue, then his lips, then alternating, and Dazai keeps digging his fingertips into your thigh, your hip, as he works you open on his hand.
"God, with how wet you are, I think we could get you to take both of us."
Your eyesâwhich you hadn't realized had fallen shut as you wound each of your hands in either of their heads of soft hairâfly open at that. Sigma pulls away too. Tortorous.
"At the same time?" You're unsure if it comes out of your mouth, too, but Sigma asks itâwith a sense of wonder that, had you said it, would've been overshadowed with a little apprehension. Dazai looks up to you for approval.
And while it's dauntingâneither of them are small, that's for sureâyou can't help the way your hips roll at the thought of being stuffed with them both. At the same time. How intimate it would inevitably be, their cocks pressed together as they fuck you. So you nod, vigorously.
"Gotta get 'em ready, though," he lectures to Sigma, snapping back to his instructorly tone as his hand falls on top of yours in his two-toned hair, pushing his face back into your cunt. "Put that mouth to work. You got it, baby."
Sigma hums against you at the nickname and the vibration sends your head lolling back again; Dazai looks wicked as he straddles your leg, still reaching down to split you open, now on three fingers instead of one or two. He kisses you hard.
The attention from both of them is unbelievableâyou see now what had them both falling apart so quickly. Something about two sets of hands wandering your body sets lights off behind your eyes. Sigmaâs reaching up to paw at your chest, flicking and pinching your nipples the same way you had his; before you know it youâre panting like a dog into Dazaiâs mouth and soaking the bed below you.
âFuckâyou two.â Youâve got one hand still twined in Sigmaâs hair. Youâre almost grinding onto his nose, and heâs lapping up everything youâre giving him like a good boy. Your other arm winds around Dazaiâs neck as you pull him closer and bend your knee to nudge his balls. He humps against what you give him. Lewd, wet sounds fill your ears.
âThatâs the plan,â Dazai singsongs, pretty teeth visible. Amidst your frantic hips, he shuffles behind you, never breaking the heated kiss you share more than he has to. Those teeth find your lips and you gasp, you moan, youâre so impressed at how quickly Sigma is picking up on this new art, and with so little instruction, reallyâhe watches you and Dazai make out from his place between your thighs and thrusts his hips against the bed at the sight. You notice.
âSigma, come up here.â
His lips leave your cunt hesitantly; truth be told, your taste is more inebriating than all the alcohol heâs had. Heâs rock hard, and you split your attention between him and Dazai as you lift your hips up, arch, and angle Dazaiâs cock against your pussy.
His lips catch Sigmaâs as he sinks into you; a whine falls from you at the stretch, and you can feel Dazai shake as he waits to move. When he parts from the kiss, he wraps his hands beneath either of your thighs, spreading you open wide.
Sigma all but gawks at the way Dazaiâs dick is buried in you from below. You reach behind you, give his brown hair a tug that has Dazai thrusting up roughly, and Sigma would let your moan shatter his eardrums, his entire being, if he could. He sees the whites of your eyes, the white of Dazaiâs fingertips as he grips you hard, the white of Dazaiâs precum and your slick dripping down onto the sheets, and his hips lunge forward at nothing. Your cunt looks delicious. Dazai looks delicious, all furrowed brows and bitten lips and groans that bubble up from his chest. He fucks you fast.
âFuck, fuck, fuckâOsamu! Unh, uh-huhââ
Dazai echoes your own name back to you. âYeah, fuckâyou feel so good.â
All the combined sounds are like a symphony to Sigma. He palms his own cock; no way he can cum just watching now, he decides. He needs to be in you. He doesnât want to be an observer. Sigma catches Dazaiâs eyes as if to say can I? But Dazaiâs already smirking and breathlessly slipping out of you, holding you up and open still as you reach for Sigma with one hand and will him into you. You suck him in, godâthank god youâre already so wet and fucked open, because heâs not an inch inside of you before he loses himself and thrusts forward wildly.
âThere you go,â Dazai encourages, grinning as the pale-haired manâs composure crumbles. âIsnât that pussy heaven? Just like that, Sigma. Theyâre fuckinâ creaminâ all over you, look.â
Look, as if his rosĂ© eyes could possibly leave the place where youâre swallowing him in. Sigmaâs gruntingâheâs never known himself to be noisy during pleasure, but this is another level, your cunt so warm and milky and squeezing him like youâll never let him go.
The curtain of Dazaiâs bangs falls across your shoulder as he kisses you there, mutters filthy musings into your ear while he watches Sigma sink into you over, over, over.
âHowâdâthey feel?â
Sigmaâs unprepared for the way his own voice sounds, wound tight and concentrated while he tries and fails miserably not to whine. All that voice turns into babbling. âSoâso, so fucking good, Iâmâah, Iâm gonna fucking cumââ
"Woah, woah, alright. Not yet. Give 'em a breather. They're gonna need it, after all." Dazai's still laughing as he puts the brakes on Sigma with his feetâthat's especially funny to him, but the way Sigma almost chokes at the way Dazai stops him is even better. Sigma, all sweat and arousal, sinks back onto his knees. You, too, squirm at the loss of stimulation, pushing soft lavender and silver off his forehead where it sticks; when Sigmaâs hips donât quite quit, even with nothing around his cock, Dazai chuckles out a âLooks like you need it, too.â
You trace Sigmaâs tangling fingers as you catch your breath, interlocking both your hands with his. Dazai lets up on your legsâyour hips will thank him laterâletting the flex back into a more comfortable position. Your back rests against his chest, and he plays with your clit lazily.
âThis is gonna take some patience, okay?â Dazai is addressing Sigma more than you; youâre guiding Sigmaâs hands down to your cunt where he and Dazai move in a figure eight that keeps you occupied.
They're gonna need it, after all is what's registering in your mind. "Osamuâ" you start, but he's shushing you.
Once again, Sigma's watching Dazai ride you up by your thighs so he can buck up into you, much more tactfully than the pale-haired man was just seconds ago. Perhaps more neglected than either of you at this point, Dazai's voice is gruff as you squelch around him.
âOh, fuck, sweetheart. Hah." His teeth sink into your shoulder as you croon.
"Dazaiâ" Sigma starts this time, but the other man answers all his questions with a single look.
"Youâre gonna go back to what you were doing,â Dazai breathes, his gaze trained on Sigma as you writhe.
âPlease, both of youââ
âBe patient,â Dazai means to snap at you but itâs too melted, too lovey. Anyway, heâs egging you on with his next words. âCâmon, Sigma, youâre gonna give âem what they want, right?â
And Sigma nods like heâs in a tranceâyour cunt already looks full around Dazai, but he needs urgently to be in you next to him. He thinks heâll explode in all the wrong ways if you donât let him in. He needs it, so he lines himself up below your clit, above Dazai, looking for anywhere he can slip in; it takes some of Dazaiâs fingers, some of yours, but soon enough he feels the veins of Dazaiâs cock on his underside and your pulsing walls to the top of him. Heâs in. Heâs actually in, and his head falls onto your shoulder, and it takes everything in him not to let his full weight slump directly onto you and Dazai. Youâre bleating, sobbing, laughing through the stretch, and when Sigmaâs tip nestles next to Dazaiâs deep inside you, you feel full. Whole.
âIâm gonna stay still.â Dazai sounds just as affected as both of you, but he keeps his facade up a few seconds longer to guide you both to the beginning of the end. âWant you to fuck them, Sigma. Hard.â
And he doesnât need to be told twice. Itâs difficult to pull back and push in at firstâyouâre so fucking tight and Dazaiâs so fucking big, and even though youâre spread apart, Sigma feels like he canât get close enough to you. Your cunt weeps around both of them, protesting the stretch that your brain adores, but you let up. And he fucks you, soft at first, and then hard.
All three of you are jumbled noise; skin on skin, teeth on lips, moans on shoulders, wet smacking and sliding and sobbing as you take both of them. Your gut heats up with each push, each pull, each frantic grasp, each broken sound the two men let out as they frot inside of you; Dazaiâs biting your shoulder again, letting his sweet little protĂ©gĂ© do the work. Sigma digs his nails into you wherever he can find purchase.
âOhâfuckinâ harder, Sigma, baby, pleaseââ you beg.
âOur pretty boy fuckinâ you good?â Dazai doesnât wait for you to answer. âYou gonna go stupid on his cock, huh?â
Sigma couldnât answer the question even if it wasnât rhetorical; all of his coherence is gone, and you took it. His thrusts grow erratic, remarkably unpracticed and blatantly virgin, but the repeated pounding of the head of his cock against the entrance to your cervix makes your eyes impossible to keep open, then impossible to keep closed, so you teeter between hyperalert and falling apart. Dazai rubs your clit as Sigma pushes your knees further back with sudden aggression, pins your thighs closer to your shoulders as he fucks you and creates an otherworldly friction against Dazai. Heâs gone, heâs lost, and he looks so gorgeous whimpering and whining, his Adamâs apple bobbing as he screws his eyes shut and his mouth falls open over and over again. If anyoneâs going stupid, itâs Sigma.
But the longer he fucks you, the more limp you fall; your head falls to rest on Dazai's shoulder as Sigma puts everything into you, and the brunette laughs like the asshole he is, even through this. Heâs hardly doing better than either of you, though, and his words fly.
âMy two beautiful little fuckinâ sluts, soâunh, so hot. So hot. Look at what I turned you into.â
Neither of you have any hope of answering. His voice just throttles you forward, and Sigmaâs grunts ante upâheâs almost yelling, shouting as he exerts himself, as he does everything his body will let him to get himself there, and bring you with him, too.
âAh! Anghâanhâah, ah, ugh!â
And you reply with, âAh! Unhâoh, oh, oh, please, please, please!â
And Dazai drinks it all up, finally letting his eyes roll back as he pulls Sigma down for one more messy kissâone that sends Sigma headfirst into his orgasm, and he cums, rutting into you while your cunt spasms, squirts, begs for Dazai to follow. Itâs like white heat rolling off of him in waves; Sigmaâs brows lift as if finding a sort of clarity, and your eyes are wide as you clutch the two men, and Dazai follows shortly afterâthe mixture of their cum inside you sings the most disgusting and yet most satisfying sounds of the evening. Your legs snap shut around Sigmaâs waist as he rides all three of you out, all sweat and tears and incredulous moans that die as he slows to a stop, still stuffed inside of you.
Three pairs of lips are dry, bitten rawâchapstickâs the first thing on Sigmaâs mind as his head clears, but he feels himself and Dazai spill out of you, and you and he both reach for him, pulling him down into the pillows as whatever dream the three of you just exited settles around you like dust. Heâs sticky, too, but he doesnât hate itâhow can he when youâre between them, throwing one leg over Sigmaâs waist and tangling the other with Dazaiâs behind you? You head falls into the crook of Sigmaâs elbow, and his other arm drapes over Dazaiâs, which holds you close by your waist as Dazaiâs chin settles on top of your headânot unlike a three-piece puzzle, snapped together and in your right place.
âOh, fuck.â Youâre still leaking. âThat was wonderful. Both of you.â
Dazai chuckles again. Unnervingly charming, even after cumming so damn hard. Sigma doesnât want to know what he looks like himself.
âWho knew there was a whore in the casino man?â
You smack Dazaiâs arm, but now youâre all laughing again, even Sigma. He feels⊠proud. You look so satisfied, so tired. The way your eyes slide shut after pressing such affection into his own prompts him to do the same.
Tired as he may be, though, he canât lie and say that heâs not still incredibly turned onâyou wiggle a little to get comfortable between them, and Sigma feels his cock spring back to life when you brush him, when your fingertips skate over the small of his back. He canât reflect on what just happenedâitâll have him hard again in seconds.
âExcited again already, huh?â Dazai pokes. Sigmaâs face burns.
âUgh,â you groan out of sheer exhaustion, âif we go again, youâre both taking turns.â
Dazai looks thoughtful. âHmm. Perhaps we could reprise rock, paper, scissors.â
And Sigma, having begun to nod, stops. âAbsolutely not.â
#cackles maniacally#goodnight#with loveâreid#dazai x reader#sigma x reader#dazai smut#sigma smut#sigzai x reader#sigzai#bsd smut#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs smut#nnnsfw.á#mdni
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Hii can we please get an Emily Prentiss with a fem reader with something to do with strip poker? :)
Love your fics sm!!
Strip Poker
Here you go, my love! And thank you! Also, I learned how to play texas hold 'em from a hermitcraft video haha
genre: fluff
cw: suggestive 16+! kinda fem! kinda gn!reader (reader's gender is not specified but is described as having breasts and wearing a bra), strip poker, getting together, kinda fade to black smut
wordcount: 1.9k
âWanna play poker?â
You turn to look at Emily. Sheâs lounging against the arm of her couch and watching you with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smile.
âYou better not be like Reid,â you warn.
She laughs. âNo, no. Donât worry. Iâm good, but I canât count cards.â
You raise your eyebrows. âWhat are you trying to trick me out of? I donât have any cash.â
âSo does that mean you want to play?â
You shrug. âSure. I donât know what we would bet though.â
âWe could play strip poker,â she says simply, like itâs no big deal at all.
Your eyes widen and you can feel your face warm. âSeriously?â
Emily shrugs. âWe donât have to, of course,â she says nonchalantly. âBut, yeah, seriously.â
You swallow hard as you try to wrap your head around Emilyâs proposal. Strip poker. With Emily. With the woman youâve had a crush on for over a year. The thought seems almost too good to be true. You find yourself nodding and Emilyâs eyes light up.
You canât help but feel a little guilty as she pushes herself off the couch and leaves to grab a deck of cards. But she suggested it. It was her idea. Itâs not like this was an elaborate plan on your behalf to see her naked.
Figuring it would be easier to play on a flat surface, you slip off the couch and onto the floor, crossing your legs beneath you and leaning back against the base of the couch. You pick at your fingernails nervously as Emily returns waving a deck of cards triumphantly.
She sits on the floor in front of you, leaving about a foot of space, and slips the cards from the pack. âWhat kind of poker do you want to play?â she asks, shuffling the cards with an ease you find insanely attractive.
âI only know Texas Hold âEm,â you admit nervously.
Emily nods and shuffles the cards again. âWeâll play that then. Iâll teach you another variant some other time.â
You havenât even started to play, but your cheeks warm at the thought of doing this again.Â
âNo blinds, obviously,â Emily says.
You nod in agreement.
âWeâll bet an item of clothing and the other person can call to match the amount or raise by adding another item.â she continues. âYou lose a hand, you lose the clothes you bet. And that includes folding unless itâs right off the bat.â
You nod again, too flustered to come up with any words.
âAlright,â Emily says, dragging out the word as she deals two cards facedown to herself and you.
You pick up your cards. Queen of spades and two of clubs. Not a great hand, but a queen high isnât horrible. âI-Iâll bet my shirt,â you mutter.
Emily nods. âI will as well,â she responds, taking three cards off the top of the deck and laying them out between you. Eight of hearts, eight of clubs, and 3 of spades.Â
You glance up to see Emily watching you with an indecipherable expression. You can feel your heart rate pick up and you fight the urge to lower your gaze, staring right into her eyes instead. She smiles. âDo you want to raise?â she asks.
âNo, Iâm good.â
âYou ready for the next card?â
You hum in affirmation and she takes the top card from the deck and sets it next to the others. Two of diamonds. You feel a bit of relief at the thought that you might not be the first to begin undressing.
Emily pauses for a moment to give you a chance to raise, and when you donât she takes the next card from the deck and sets it down to reveal the six of diamonds. âAce high,â she says, lowering her hand for you to see.
You smirk at her and flip your cards. âTwo pair.â
Emily laughs and tilts her head in acknowledgment. She sets her cards down and curls her fingers under the hem of her shirt. Your breath hitches as she slowly starts to lift her shirt, revealing first her toned stomach and then the black bra that perfectly supports her breasts. Her eyes stay locked on yours the entire time. She finally pulls the shirt over her head and tosses it aside and you have to fight the urge to stare. Sheâs absolutely gorgeous and you donât know what to do with yourself.
Emily reaches out and rests her hand on your knee, making you jump slightly. âYou alright?â she asks sweetly.
You find yourself nodding before you can even properly process her question. She smiles at you and your stomach feels like it does a backflip.
âReady for the next hand?â she asks, picking up all the cards and shuffling them.
You nod again. Itâs like her beauty has rendered you incapable of coherent thought, much less speech. Emily deals the cards and you look to see that you have a six of hearts and a seven of clubs. With some luck, you might end up with a straight and get to see Emily take off another piece of clothing. You blink hard to drag yourself back to reality as Emily says, âI bet my socks.â
You look down at your hand again. âIâll bet my shirt.â
Emily raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back. Your nerves are quickly starting to shift into excitement. She sets the next three cards down. Ace of hearts, 10 of spades, and jack of clubs.
âIâll raise my belt,â Emily says. You look up at her to see a cocky expression on her face. The flop gives the chance for a straight, though you doubt she has both a queen and a king, if she already had a straight sheâd be raising way more than just her belt. She might have one of them. Or maybe sheâs bluffing.
âIâll match with my belt.â
Emily deals out the turn. A five of diamonds.Â
âI raise my pants.â
Your head shoots up and you stare at Emily with wide eyes. Maybe she does have a king and queen. You try to read her, but her expression is the same slight cockiness and self-satisfaction itâs been the whole game. You look back and forth between your hand and the community cards.Â
âI fold.â
Emily smiles wide and you hand her your cards face down for her to shuffle back into the deck with the others. You take a deep breath to steady yourself before beginning to unbuckle your belt. Emilyâs eyes seem practically glued to your hands as she shuffles the cards. The metal of the buckle clinks as you pull your belt through the loops of your pants and set it off to the side. You lock eyes with Emily as you hook your fingers under your shirt and her hands go still.Â
You smirk, pleased to see that you seem to have the same effect on her that she has on you. Taking a leaf from her book, you maintain eye contact as you slowly remove your shirt, and by the time itâs gone and youâre just in your bra, you can see the blush on her cheeks. The realization that sheâs enjoying this just as much as you starts a fire burning in your gut and you start to think that maybe Emily wants you too.
She opens and closes her mouth for a moment, before lowering her gaze back to the cards and shuffling them again. âYouâre beautiful,â she says softly.
Your face feels like itâs on fire. âTh-thank you,â you stutter, taken aback. âYou are too.â
She lifts her head slightly and smiles at you softly before handing out the cards. Seven of hearts and king of spades. Emily hums as she looks at her cards.Â
âIâll, um, Iâll bet my socks,â you say. Now that youâre both shirtless, you can feel the excitement curling in your chest. You want to see more of her.Â
Emily nods. âIâll bet my belt.â
She lays down a four of clubs, nine of spades, and a king of clubs. You smile confidently. The flop doesnât lend itself to anything good so you feel you have a good chance with a pair of kings. Even if Emily has a four, as long as another one isnât played in the turn or river, youâll win.
âYou gonna raise?â
You think for a moment before shrugging. You might as well. âIâll raise my pants.â
Emilyâs face flushes. âIâll match with my own.â
Neither of you raises the bet as an ace of hearts and eight of clubs are played. When the hand is over, you smirk at her, feeling confident in your victory. You set your cards face up on the floor. Emily laughs and does the same. Your jaw drops. She has a four of spades and a four of hearts.
âYou forgot about three of a kind, didnât you?â
You stare at her in shock. âIâyeah,â you admit. âI thought for sure I had you.â
âThatâs what you get for being cocky,â Emily teases with a laugh.
You scowl playfully and stick out your tongue. You quickly tug off your socks and toss them to the side before climbing to your feet. Emilyâs gaze follows you as you stand, watching the movement of your fingers as you undo your pants. You can see the way her chest heaves with each breath as she watches you slowly push your jeans off your hips.
You bend over seductively, giving her a good view up your bra as you slide your pants down your legs. You swear you can hear her breath hitch. Once free of your jeans you toss them off to the side and sit back down with your legs crossed in a way that leaves your underwear exposed.Â
Emily lowers her gaze and quickly reshuffles and deals the cards. The round passes quickly and you can tell sheâs distracted. She jumps straight to betting her pants and you match with your bra, then she loses with a jack high to your pair of threes. She practically jumps to her feet and without removing her belt, pushes her pants down.
The sight of her underwear makes your face burn. Theyâre a pair of small black boyshorts that hug her ass perfectly as she bends over, forcing you to struggle between choosing to look there or at her breasts. Either way, sheâs gorgeous.Â
She tosses her pants to the side and, instead of sitting back down where she was, she closes the gap between you and lowers herself to sit on your lap. Your arms shoot up in surprise, your hands hovering over her skin, unsure if youâre allowed to touch. You can hear your pulse rushing in your ears.
Emily drapes her arms around the back of your neck and stares at you for a moment. You stare back with wide eyes and your mouth parted slightly in shock. She brushes her hand over your cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat.Â
âYou can touch me, sweetheart,â she whispers.
You nod desperately and immediately your hands find her hips. âI-is this really happening?â you breathe, unable to wrap your head around it.
âIf you want it to.â
You nod again, just as desperately. âYes, God, yes. Iâve wanted you for so long,â you gasp weakly.
Emily smiles softly at you. âI have as well.â Her gaze drops from your eyes to your lips. âCan I kiss you?â
You think the way your hand immediately slides into her hair and presses her lips against yours is answer enough.
_____
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [15K] PART TWO OF TWO old money steve, an infatuated waitress, no labels, a disaster waiting to happen. some smut, some jealousy and too many mentions of monaco. 18+
tw: mentions of pregnancy, slight steddie.
If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Five weeks.Â
You didnât see Steve for five weeks. Not for lack of looking. The Lake House was astoundingly quieter with the loss of the youngest Harrington and his friends, the bar empty, the Macallan well stocked and poker nights were taken over by the older generation. You didnât see him on the golf course, nor in the spa. He didnât frequent the smoking lounge and you didnât see him at the bar. Gone was his maroon BMW from the parking lot and on the one, stupid occasion where youâd swallowed all your shame, you drove past his townhouse after a late night shift and you werenât sure if you were disappointed or relieved to see it sitting in the dark, empty.
You hadnât exchanged numbers that night, still, the radio silence was infuriating. But hey, at least he wasnât just plain avoiding you.Â
Which you realised when he waltzed in one Tuesday before lunch service, more tanned than ever, white shirt sleeves rolled up, tan trousers perfectly tailored. His eyes were on you immediately, his hair longer than youâd last seen him, like heâd been so busy he hadnât had time to get it cut. Strands of it fell into his eyes and he swept them out of the way with a grin as he approached the bar. More so a smirk, really. And it irked you, his smirk, his pretty brown eyes, his perfectly messy hair, his sunkissed skin and donât give a fuck attitude.Â
He leant on the bar like he owned it, elbows pressed to the wood, hands clasped in front of him so the gold ring glinted in the afternoon sun. He didnât say anything, he just waited, watching as you finished polishing a wine glass and put it back on the glass shelf.Â
You cleared your throat and didnât bother to smile, but the voice you spoke in was very much reserved for customer service. âGood afternoon, sir. What can I get you?â
You watched as Steveâs eyes flashed a little darker, amused and something else. He let out a soft laugh, like he thought you were funny. Like he thought your cold indifference was hilarious. So he played along, sliding onto one of the suede stools. The bar room was somewhat empty, most of the members either gathering for lunch in the sun room or soaking up the last of the warm weather on the golf course. It was quiet, and the tension between the two of you could fill the entire manor.Â
âA Macallan, please,â Steve answered, just as politely.Â
He was still watching every move you made, eyes raking over your legs, the fit of your dress over your hips, the swell of your ass when you turned and reached up for the bottle of scotch. You smiled, a sardonic press of your lips that didnât meet your eyes when you asked him, âwould you like ice with that?â
Steve really laughed then, but there was an edge to it that told you were getting under his skin. If he wanted to leave the country for over a month after blowing your mind in his fancy living room like it was no big deal, wellâ you could pretend you donât care. Or better yet, didnât even remember him.Â
âNo ice,â he said and before you could pour, he waved his hand for you to stop. âActually, you know what? Iâd prefer the forty year. You have that right, honey?â
You did. But it was in the back, behind a heavy, locked door. The forty year old scotch could go for thirty thousand dollars a bottle. You tried not to look surprised, or worse, impressed. So you nodded instead and told him, âof course, sir. Please bear with me.â
But when you left the bar to walk towards the door that was marked âemployees only,â Steve was behind you. You watched him lean against the wall as you fumbled with your key card, pressing it once, twice - fuck - three times against the pad before it buzzed. And when you pushed the door open and Steve caught it, slipping in behind you, your cold indifference turned to anger.Â
Who did he think he was? Did he think he was that untouchable?
âThis is employees only,â you hissed at him, panicking at the thought of someone else - god forbid, your boss - catching you in the hallway with him.Â
Like theyâd be able to tell youâd gone to his late one night, that youâd stood and stripped for him in front of his big fireplace and bigger TV, like theyâd find out heâd put his mouth on you and made to you come harder than anyone else ever haâ
But Steve just sighed, a long suffering thing that made your hackles rise up that little bit higher. You narrowed your eyes at him.Â
âHoney, how many times do I have to tell you?â He brushed past you, hands in his pockets, walking down the corridor towards the locked room where the high value liquor was kept. âNo one gets in trouble unless I say so. Now, come on.â
You didnât want to obey, you didnât want to do as he said. But you were at a loss. He looked so good and smelled so nice, clean and like the ocean, like sunscreen, like heâd just stepped off the plane from whatever Italian city heâd been hiding in and came straight to you. So you didnât say anything, you just straightened up and let the clickclickclick of your heels fill the silence as you edged past him again and walked towards the door.Â
He didnât let you reach it before he started talking again, a lazy drawl that matched his slow walk, an effortless thing that suited his linen trousers and effortlessly rumpled shirt. Even the lock of hair that fell across his forehead looked artfully placed.Â
âArenât you going to ask where Iâve been?âÂ
You clenched your jaw. âNo.â
You heard him laugh and the sound made your hand slip from where it tried to remember the combination for the door. He was so sure of himself, so sure and so confident that youâd spent the last five weeks thinking of him and where he was and what he was doing and who he was withâ
âSo rude today, honey. You donât want to hear about the business deals I secured? The money I made?â
You scoffed and rolled your eyes, even though he couldnât see it. You kept your back to him, body stiff, mind positivity empty as you tried to recall the fucking code. You could sense him getting closer, body heat crowding yours, his cologne, his scent, like heâd bottled an Italian summer and sprayed it all over himself.Â
âNo,â you repeated. Blunt, short, cold.Â
âWhat if I brought you back a present, wouldnât you want to know then?â
He was behind you now, a towering presence, intimidating even when you werenât looking at him. His chest brushed your back, a solid, warm thing that you wanted to melt against. But you kept yourself strong, hoping he couldnât see your shaking hands as you tried another series of numbers. Steveâs hand came up to your neck, sweeping away the hair there, his knuckles brushing the sensitive skin.Â
The keypad beeped at you in protest, another denied entry.Â
âYouâre not like the other girls, are you, honey?â
You braced yourself, waiting for the speech about how you were different from the others, better in whatever way Steve deemed appropriate. Prettier, maybe. Smarter, quirkier, some kind of compliment that was supposed to make you preen for him.Â
 Steve tsked and moved closer, his nose brushing the nape of your neck. âNo, you donât want my money. Youâre not interested, huh? You donât want the cash, the presents, no diamonds, no five thousand dollar shoes. You donât want the cars or the houses or the yachts or the ring on your finger, huh?â
You didnât get a chance to answer. Steveâs little speech didnât go the way you assumed. The boy spun you suddenly, backing you into the wall as he took your chin in his hold, heated skin between a finger and his thumb, his nose and lips trailing over your cheek, your temple. You closed your eyes, breathing him in. You waited.Â
âNo, honey, you just want fucked, donât you?âÂ
His lips were at your ear, trailing over the shell of it and you couldnât help the way your eyes fluttered, heading lolling back until it thudded against the wall. You were breathing funny, your body boneless. How did you fucking get here?
Steve grinned even though you couldnât see, teeth on your jaw instead. He took your hand from where it lay limp by your side and brought it to his crotch, cupping it between his own and his cock, the hard length of him pushing against his slacks and your small hand. âYou just want this, right?â His teeth nipped at you and you scrunched your face in pleasure, lips parting. âTell me.â
You folded, a new kind of girl from the one that stood at the bar, brushing him off and pretending you couldnât recall the way you came on his tongue. You nodded, brows knitted together, like you were ready to beg. Maybe you were. âYeah,â you answered breathily. âI want it.â
Steve kissed your cheek, a sweet thing, a sudden and shocking touch. âWant what? Wanna hear it, honey, câmon.â
Heat rushed through you, clinging to your cheeks, your neck. You squirmed, embarrassed and turned on, even more embarrassed that you were throbbing at his words. You blinked at him. âWant your cock,â you whispered.Â
âSmart girl,â he cooed. âClever girl. Such a good fucking girl.â Steve let go of your chin, used his fingertips to brush your hair back and draw a line down your jaw. He pressed another kiss, to your chin this time, a fleeting thing that you tried to chase. You wanted to taste him. âThatâs better isnât it? So much better when you play nice. Where do you want it? Hm? Wanna suck it for me, honey? Want to feel it down your throat?â Steve tsked, his voice low and controlled despite the filth he was muttering against your cheek. âNo, no, you want it inside of you, right? My baby wants fucked, right?â
Baby. My baby. It didnât feel like a pet name, not really. Not like the way he said âhoney,â like melted candy on his tongue. No. This felt like ownership.Â
You were throbbing from the inside out, your brain buzzing, a white noise kind of sound that tuned out everything bar Steveâs voice, his words, that awfully fucking pretty cadence that made you feel like you were one step away from getting in trouble. You donât know why you loved it, why it made your toes curl, your lips part and a whine get stuck in your throat.Â
âFuck, Steve,â you clawed at his shoulders, nails scraping over his shirt, creasing the expensive linen. You didnât care. âYeah, please, I want that.â
âOh, itâs Steve, now, is it?â The boy laughed a little meanly, grabbing at your hips to turn you for him, your chest pressed to the wall as he made sure your ass stayed popped out for him. He traced the pretty arch of your back, rocked his dick against the curve of your ass cheek and squeezed. âI think I preferred âsir.â Made you sound so much more agreeable.â
You just moaned. A sound youâd never heard yourself make, an animalistic thing, wrecked sounding and it made Steve beam. âOh honey, youâre filthy, arenât you? Youâd let me fuck you right here, wouldnât you?â His hands found the hem of your dress and cool air hit the tops of your thighs as he started lifting it up.Â
You didnât care. You didnât fucking care.Â
Your cheek was pressed to the wall, Lake House green paint under the press of your palms and you remained pliant for Steve, back arched and legs spreading a little, ready for him to pull your underwear to the side and slip his cock inside of you. You wanted it, you needed itâ
âIâm not gonna fuck you here, pretty girl, not yet.â Steve was at your ear again, whispering against the shell of it, his fingers grabbing a handful of your ass under your dress as he squeezed and pulled at the dough of it. âGonna take my time with you for that. Going to make sure I ruin you.â
Disappointment washed over you like a bucket of cold water. It was sobering and his words made you whine, a desperate noise that the staff corridor of The Lake House should never have heard. You turned on your own volition, gazing at Steve with heavy lidded eyes and you were pleased to see he looked the same. Cheeks pink, lips parted, his chest moving a little quicker than before. You remembered the way heâd taken charge that night, how heâd just assumed youâd come home with him after the poker game, how heâd sat in front of you, sprawled on his big sofa as he watched you take off your clothes for him.Â
How heâd told you to.Â
And then heâd made you come undone, unravelling against his mouth as he whispered dirty things to you, leaving you fuzzy and hazy as he dropped you home, seemingly unaffected. You wanted that power back, you wanted to see him too far gone to remember how much money he had in the bank.Â
So you pressed your palms to his chest and smoothed down his shirt collar before you dropped to your knees in front of him. It shouldâve been a submissive thing, most people would assume it was. You, kneeling below the rich man, the man who had wealth and connections and an entire legacy built on just his name. You, the girl who was paid to serve him from behind a bar, pouring drinks that youâd ever be able to afford, on the floor in front of him.Â
But when you looked back up at Steve, his cocky expression had changed to one of awe. Genuine surprise showed in his eyes, lashes fanning over his cheeks as he blinked at you, dreamlike, hazy, fuzzy. Just like heâd made you feel. You brought your hands to the front of his trousers, finger teasing the button there before he slumped forward a little and braced his hands on the very wall heâd pushed you up against. He nodded, mumbled something that sounded like âplease.â
Victory.Â
You looked back at the door youâd come through, no windows in the wood, but still thin enough that could hear the grand piano playing in the dining room, the distant tinkling of china teapots against porcelain teacups. Anyone could walk in. Youâd get fired. Or worse.
The button popped under your finger and thumb, and the zipper whispered in the quiet when you tugged it down. Steve groaned, a heavy, hot sound that made the slick between your thighs worsen. He was leaning over you, head bowed between the arms that held him up, his full lips pink and parted as he stared down at you. You waited for some sort of instruction, an order, some filthy kind of praise but instead, he just watched.Â
Powerless.Â
You flattened a palm against his cock, hard and warm under the cotton of his black Calvin Kleins, your other hand braced on his thigh. You looked up, one brow raised, a silent question even as the solid length of him kicked up against your touch.Â
âYes,â he rasped, nodding. âYeah, honey, go âhead.â
You worked fast, the rest of the club a far away murmur behind the locked door as Steveâs heavy breaths took over your senses instead. You dragged the band of his underwear down, his cock slapping up against his stomach. He was huge, thick and long and hard to wrap your fingers around and you hated that he had another reason to walk around acting like he fucking owned the world.Â
But you wanted the power back and you grasped him in your fist, pumping him against your palm as he tried to stop his hips from bucking forward. You wanted Steve like putty, yours to play with, you wanted him to fall apart as fast and as hard as he made you.Â
So you skipped the teasing, leaning forward to lick a broad stripe across the head of his cock, salt on your tongue and he swore, hips jerking when you opened your mouth and let him slide past your lips. You worked quick, heart racing from the adrenline of sucking someone off during working hours, hidden in a place you werenât supposed to be. This was stupid, it was so fucking stupid but the stretch of your jaw around Steveâs cock was delicious, the sounds he was making even better. He was gasping your name, his voice hoarse, his eyes barely able to stay open but his lashes fluttered and he made sure he watched the way his cock disappeared in and out your mouth, over and over again.Â
Your nails scratched at his thighs, making him hiss, your free hand pumping the length of him that you couldnât nudge into your throat. It was wet and messy, a filthy thing that made his brain malfunction âcause you were looking up at him the whole time with big, doe eyes and your pretty, little dress was splayed over your thighs. You looked like sin, you looked like his own personal wet dream and you were tracing your tongue along the underside of his cock as the head of it hit the back of your throat andâ
âOh my god,â Steve growled. One hand fell from the wall to grasp your head, not pushing, not guiding. Just twisting into your hair and holding on for dear fucking life. âOh, fuck, mâgonnacome.â
It had barely been five minutes and a new sort of determination flushed through you. You were soaked, inner thighs wet from the heat of Steveâs stare, from the weight of his cock on your tongue and god, he was tipping his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, fingers tightening in your hair as he realised you were doubling down on your efforts and not pulling off.Â
âIn your mouth, honey, yeah?â His voice was a little higher, breathier, so much less than controlled that it ever had been. âGonna come in that pretty mouth, that smart, little mouth, hm? Please? Gonna swallow it all for me?â
You hummed in agreement, refusing to take you lips away from him, bringing a hand to cup his balls as you worked your mouth around him, rolling them in your palm. Steve twitched against your tongue, hips jerking forward as he gasped out everything from a prayer, to your name, to a curse. He came hard and sudden, his jaw hanging slack as he stared down at you, watching with a greedy sort of awe as he spilled over your tongue. You made a show of it for him, lips parting and mouth open as you pumped what you could out of him, letting him see it cover your tongue before you swallowed.Â
And as he stood, barely keeping himself up, breathless and speechless, you tucked him back into his trouser, soft and spent. You stood primly, caged between his arms as you smoothed down your skirt and met his gaze. He looked a little wild, a little wrecked and he swore under his breath when you licked your lips, using your thumb to politely swipe at the corner of your mouth, like a lady at high tea, not a girl whoâd just sucked the fucking life from him.Â
Neither of you spoke. You werenât sure Steve could. So you ducked under his arm and walked away, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as you tried to make sure he couldnât seen the way your legs shook. Chin high, smile victorious, you didnât look back before you slipped out of the door and out to the bar. It took a while for Steve to appear, face still a little flushed, but heâd brushed back his hair and smoothed out any wrinkles in his shirt, his trouser buttoned back up but his eyes gave him away.Â
They were glittering, trained on you as he came through the employees only door like he owned the entire building.Â
He didnât care that you were serving Mr and Mrs St. Clair there afternoon martinis. No, he walked right up to the bar and tapped his fingers on the wood, vying for your attention. You gave it easily, gaze on Steve instead of the cocktail shaker you were filling with ice.Â
âWhat time do you finish?â He asked, voice still rough.Â
You swallowed tightly, eyes flitting to the older couple who werenât paying you much mind. Not when their drinks werenât ready yet. âSeven,â you told him.
Steve nodded. âIâll be waiting outside.â
âââââ
Thatâs how it went.Â
No labels, not much talking - not about anything too serious anyway, like the future. Just a whirlwind you couldnât really call a romance because Steve Harrington had fucked you in every room of his house, every car he parked in his too big garage, but heâd never kissed your lips. Youâd found that Steve didnât really do sweet unless it came with some kind of condescending tone that made your toes curl, surprising you on the odd occasion with a sudden fondness that even shocked him. But still, no kisses. Heâd kiss you everywhere else, forehead often resting against yours as you both caught your breaths, his cock still inside you. Youâd feel his nose bump your own, a soft touch, an intimate thing. But heâd pull back when youâd lift your chin a little, mouth searching for his like he hadnât just been gasping into it.Â
He didnât really hold your hand or call you his girlfriend but he knew your favourite wine, an expensive Chardonnay he liked to buy you by the crate, along with flowers you hadnât even seen before, colourful blooms that looked like they belonged in a magazine. Heâd place his hand on the small of your back when he took you out to restaurants, cocktail bars full of business men that only he knew. Away from Hawkins, always in the front of one of his cars, each one faster and shinier than the last. Dining rooms with chandeliers and low lights, pillar candles on white table cloths and five forks each.Â
He showed you off, surprising you with silk dresses and red bottomed heels that you told him off for, but Steve would kiss your neck, your bare shoulder and whisper how he wanted to take the pretty dress off of you later, how he wanted you in nothing but Louboutinâs. His touch was possessive, dirty, sometimes surprisingly caring, a gentleman that opened your car doors for you, who pulled out your chair for you to sit.Â
 But no, he never kissed your lips.Â
And when he was spending days and weeks in Rome, Milan, Cannes, New York, Los Angeles, Singapore, St. Martin, well. When was there time to talk about relationships?
Steve Harrington was private jets and brand new Bentleyâs. He was a special edition Rolex and had his family's name outside Hawkinâs city hall on a gold plaque. He was silk, leather, polished shoes and freshly ironed shirts. Gold, suede, expensive cologne, yachts in Monaco, a villa in the hills of the French Riviera. But he wasnât your boyfriend.Â
No. He was thousand dollar bottles of whisky, business deals in San Tropez, a private beach club in Marbella. He was parties. He was the party. Cocktail nights with the elite, a grown up rager in someone's mansion, where chandeliers swung from ornate ceilings and the stairs were painted in gold leaf, littered with coked up rich kids who were using daddieâs hundred dollar bills to fill their noses.Â
Like the one you were at now, the thumpthumpthump of far away music still managing to reach you three floors up. The entire house was filled with art, a gallery more than a home and twenty something year olds made the place look too messy, black ties loose around menâs necks as girls walked around the marble floors barefoot, bottles of MoĂ«t clutched in their hands, each one looking for someone else to fuck. Grecian statues were thrown like footballs, busts of women from too long ago used as something to take a line off of and there were five people in the pool outside, naked, drunk, all taking turns touching each other.Â
It was debauchery at its finest. At its richest.Â
It was Eddieâs idea.Â
Heâd invited Steve whoâd then picked you up in a car you hadnât seen before, a deep green Camaro with tan leather seats. It was already late, later than youâd like to have left for the beginning of a night out but Eddie promised a good time and the possibility of a new business venture for Steve. Â
The house had been an hour out of town, nestled off into the countryside between a forest and a lake, the long driveway spot lit as it led to the huge brick manor. Youâd walked through the door behind Eddie, Steveâs hand on your back as he coaxed you inside and into the chaos. Music, bodies, champagne flutes overflowing on a round table in the foyer, marble flooring, tapestries on the walls, spilled glitter on the stairway and money littering a desk, poker chips on the floor.Â
No one greeted you, no one looked at you. But someone slapped Steve on the shoulder and Eddie shook a guy's hand, a bag of white powder exchanged for a rolled up wad of cash. No words were said. So Steve grabbed a mottle of MoĂ«t from a tabletop and took your hand, only to lead you up the stairs and Eddie followed, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he winked at the girl on the landing that you all had to step over.Â
An empty room, champagne bubbles, two men.Â
The bed was huge, a canopy style thing with too many pillows and with gold stitched quilts. Red drapes and low lights, a thick carpet that you dug your toes into when you slipped off your heels and then fell onto the mattress. Eddie followed, tipsy, boisterous, laughing as he did. Steve lazed in an armchair in the corner, long legs splayed out in front of him as he sipped from the bottle, his eyes on the way the hem of your dress slipped up your thighs.Â
âHow does Steveâs little friend like the lifestyle?â Eddie asked you, grinning. âIs the MoĂ«t to your taste, sweetheart?â He was teasing and you knew that, teasing in a lighter way than Steve would because he was smiling and his eyes were kind, his cheek pushed to the bedding as he waited for your answer.Â
You took the bottle from Steve and let the bubbles slide down your throat, the fizziness tickling the roof of your mouth and it wasnât sweet enough. Still, you took it greedily, wetting your lips before you dropped the empty bottle onto the floor with a thud. âI prefer Chardonnay, but itâll do,â you joked back.Â
Eddie laughed and then hummed. He appraised you thoughtfully before his eyes flickered to Steve, dark in the dim light. âOh yeah, Mr Harrington was kind enough to buy you a whole case of it, huh? I saw the order, sweetheart donât get flustered.â Eddie reached out to brush a stand of your hair away from your face and from the corner of your eye, you saw Steve sit up a little straighter. âHeâs real nice, isnât he? Likes to spoil a pretty girl like you.â
âEddie,â Steveâs voice was a warning.Â
âRight?â he continued, nodding at you like youâd agreed. You simply watched him from the bed, breath hitching a little when he propped himself onto one elbow so he could look down at you, one finger tracing up and down your forearm. âJewellery, flowers, nice dinners, nicer dresses,â he trailed off, plucking at the strap of your black dress. âPretty things for pretty girls. He doesnât kiss you though, does he?â
The air was sucked out of the room and Steve bristled. âEddie.â
Eddie ignored him. He tutted sympathetically, pouting at you. âHe hasnât, has he? He never does, some weird rule he has.â You didnât say anything, you couldnât. But you gasped quietly when Eddie traced a finger over your bottom lip, tugging at it gently until he let it go and it fell back into place with a soft âpopâ. âSuch a shame.â
He pulled away slightly to look back at Steve, who was sitting forward in the chair now, his elbows braved on his knees as he stared at Eddie with a dark expression. Like he was waiting. Warning him. But he didnât say anything, so Eddie turned back to you.Â
âDâyou know that Steve and I share things?â
You shook your head, wishing you had the sense to sit up, to collect yourself, to pull the hem of your damn dress down because the warm air that was trapped inside the room - between these two men - was heating up the skin on your thighs.Â
âYeah,â Eddie explained. âShares, stocks, cars⊠girls.â He leaned down again, nose bumping against your temple as he whispered theatrically into your, loud enough for Steve to hear. âHe likes me more than Hargrove, you see.â
You could hear a pin drop.Â
âDo you think heâd let me kiss you, sweetheart? I bet he would.â Eddie was on his hands and knees now, crawling over you, hovering just above, hands braced on either side of your head and he grinned at the way your pupils grew a little bigger, a little darker. Both of you turned your heads to the side, your cheeks pressed to the expensive Egyptian cotton and you both looked at Steve. You werenât sure what for. For a scolding, for a fight, for approval.Â
âCâmon, Harrington,â Eddie broke the silence. âSheâs not your girl, is she? You gonna let me taste her? Seeing as you donât? Bet sheâs so fuckinâ sweet.â
Steve let out a huff of breath, his eyes flashing as he gripped the arm of the chair too tight. He sat back into the leather, shoulders stiff and lips in a straight line. âI know how she tastes, Munson, trust me.â
The way they spoke about you like you werenât there made your skin tingle, an electric current that ran through your bones and you were buzzing, fizzing - but that mightâve been the champagne. But still, Eddie continued, playing Steve until he was flushed in the face with an emotion you couldnât place.Â
âYeah but those lips look pretty fucking biteable,â Eddie whispered and he ducked his head down, nose brushing yours, lips parting when yours did on instinct. âCould eat her up. Like a little peach, huh?â
Steve didnât say anything, he didnât stop it. He just sat and stared, cock stirring in his trousers because this is how these parties went and this wasnât the first time heâd watched his friend take the girl heâd brought on a bed. In fact, this was tame compared to the other nights, lines of coke and whisky on a bedside table, his cock buried in some strange girl's mouth as Eddie took her from behind, shirt buttons ripped open and matching red lipstick on both their chests.Â
This was different. It felt different.Â
But still, he stayed quiet.Â
âYou just want a kiss, donât you?â Eddie cooed as he kept close, nuzzling his nose to your cheek, making sure his lips brushed across your when he moved to the other side. Your hands curled around the outside of his thighs where he kneeled over you, keeping him there, holding tight. You could see Steve out of your peripheral. âPretty thing like you just wants some lovinâ, I know it.â
Then slowly, as if allowing you - or Steve - to stop him, Eddie moved in, kissing your top lip before moving to your bottom, a barely there thing before he was kissing you properly, mouth pushing against yours. He angled his face so Steve could see, so the other boy on the armchair could watch the way he parted his lips and opened your own with his tongue, licking into you in a way that made your back arch. Steve watched the black silk of your dress - the one he bought you - meet Eddieâs shirt, matching colours, black as midnight. Ink on skin, moving against a stranger's sheets. Nipples pebbling against the material as Eddie dragged one of his hands down your sides, lifting your arm up and keeping it above your head so he could drag his fingers down the side of your breast, the material pulling tight over your skin.Â
He followed the curve of it, made you gasp into his mouth and then he was groaning, whispering something about how sweet you were, his tongue sweeping over your own before he was ripped away from you.Â
Steve had Eddie by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him off of the bed and you until he staggered into the other boy, grinning like this was all the funniest game in the world. You were panting, lips still glossy from Eddieâs kiss, eyes wide with shock because Steve was pulling himself up to his full height, shoulder squared, chin tilted up.Â
His nose almost touched Eddieâs.Â
âSâwrong, Harrington?â Eddie whispered. He was goading, excited, too amused. âSheâs not your girl, right?â Their chests touched but Eddie didnât back down, still grinning, curls mussed from where heâd lay on the bed with you, your gloss smeared across his own lips, a pretty pink that matched the flush across his cheeks. âYou normally donât mind sharing, dude, whatâs the problem?â
Steveâs nostrils flared and he was breathing a little heavier, gaze flickering to you as you sat up and smoothed down your dress, your hair. Part of you wanted to get between the boys, soothe whatever was about to start, but something inside of you wanted to hear what Steve had to say. You stared back at him, feeling too hot, too exposed but you waited, gaze hard on him.Â
âQuit playinâ, Eddie,â Steve warned and he took one step back, standing in the middle of you and the other boy. He looked flustered, a little put together than he normally did, his eyes dark and his cheeks heated, his back too stiff and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the way they were balled into fists. âIâm not in the mood.â
But Eddie kept smiling, hands held out in front of him as if he were surrendering but he continued to smile, eyes shining as kept talking, voice lilting. âPoor thing just wanted a kiss, man, only giving her what you donât. Sorta mean, donât you think?â
You couldnât say anything, you just watched as Steve glared and Eddie grinned, the room filled with something more than faded music, empty champagne bottles and all the leftover bubbles. Tension fizzed in the corners, it made the walls crack and split, it made your chest turn a little too tight.Â
âLike I said,â Eddie gestured to you, eyes flirting up and down your frame appreciatively before turning back to Steve, âsânot like sheâs your girl, is she?â
The thump of a bassline from two floors down, faint splashes from a pool outside the open window, the smash of a glass. But silence from Steve.Â
âAm I?âÂ
Your voice sounded so much smaller than you wanted it to but you stared at Steve as you watched his jaw tense and flex. He closed his eyes and said something under his breath, something you couldnât hear, pressing his thumb to the corner of his eye before he faced you.Â
âWeâve, uh,â he swallowed and reached for another cigarette. âWeâve spoken about this, honey.â He said it calmly, casually, like you shouldâve known better.Â
But you had spoken about it at all. Not really. Steveâs silence said more than words and when he only pressed kisses to your cheek, to the insides of your thighs and side of your neck, youâd finally gotten the hint. Steve Harrington didnât get attached. He didnât do relationships. He was too busy, and spent too much time between too many cities, too many countries. Steve Harrington had yachts and cars and penthouses and villas. But he didnât have girlfriends. Not just one, anyway.Â
You shouldâve known. You had known. But hearing it aloud made it hurt that little bit more. So you nodded as if you agreed and when Steve lit the cigarette and let it hang between his lips, you stared at the floor as he stared at you. Then he was nodding towards the door and expecting you to follow him.Â
âCâmon, letâs get out of here.â
You didnât move. Eddie chuckled, a dark thing that made Steve glare at him but he looked over at you, cigarette between his fingers as it turned down quicker than he could smoke it. âHoney, letâs go.â
You still didnât move.Â
So Steve looked at you and then he looked at Eddie and scoffed, waving a dismissive hand before he left the room and left the house.Â
Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
You didnât hear from Steve for the first few days after the party.Â
Four days went by without seeing him and honestly, that was okay with you. He stayed away from the clubhouse, even when you saw Billy and Eddie in the lounge, Jonathan at poker nights, Steve wasnât with them. You saw his car around town now and then, passing the maroon BMW as you drove home from work late at night, watching its tail lights speed away in your rear view mirror. You wondered if he had another girl in the front seat, someone else he called honey and fucked on the living room sofa.Â
You told yourself it didnât matter. You knew this would happen, you were just stupid enough to let it. You knew youâd get your heart broken, you knew youâd be the one left hurt. Because despite Steveâs proclivity for showering you in gifts and sex, you did have fun with him. He was sweet when he wanted to be, when he took off his suit and tie and shut off his pager. The business calls would stop and heâd forgo the expensive wine and designer shoes in favour of bringing a bag of your favourite chocolate, a dollar from the gas station and more appreciated than he realised.Â
There had been a night heâd taken you his kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you with an intensity youâd never felt from him before, his forehead pressed to yours, his soft murmurs falling into your open mouth.Â
âEyes on me, honey, keep watchin.â
âYouâre so pretty, yâknow that? Could stay inside you all fuckinâ night, Jesus Christ.â
âThere she is, there she is, look at you, huh? Fuckinâ perfect at takinâ me.â
It had made you feel giddy, fuzzy, coming on Steveâs cock harder than ever and after he slid out of you he ran you a bath instead of taking you home. He didnât join you like you asked, scoffing at the idea of lavender bubbles and water hot enough to scald him but he did sit on the tiles, shirtless and with his hands in the tub, fingers trailing over your water slick legs. He told you about the places heâd been, beaches and cities, the towns heâd think youâd like. And in the candle light, at three in the morning, with no one else around, Steve told you that heâd have to take you one day.Â
Youâd hummed, pleased, heart racing at the idea of something coming from all of this. Not a free holiday, but someone to be with. A boyfriend, maybe, a partner. Someone who loved you as good as they fucked you. You werenât deluded, you knew this wasnât love. Not yet. But this handsome man came to the bar one day and decided that you were going to be his in some way or another. He wined you, dined you, spoiled you. Fucked you the way you asked and looked at you with stars in his eyes every time you got on your knees for him. He didnât want you kissing anyone else, even when he couldnât bring himself to kiss you.Â
There were times you thought he would. Times he looked at you like he wanted to, needed to. Straying closer and closer to your lips every time he kissed you goodnight, a lingering thing on your cheek that you wished you could bottle up and keep. Heâd let his lips graze over you when he fucked you, pressing you into the cushions of his couch because even taking you to his bed was too intimate, too much like a relationship. So heâd fuck you slow in his living room, in the glow of the fireplace with the red wine forgotten on the table as he lost himself in it all, mouth skimming over the planes of your cheeks, the slope of your jaw, the very fucking corner of your bottom lip, like that wasnât as bad as letting him bend you over his mattress.Â
Steve Harrington told you that he didnât get attached, but you werenât able to promise him the same. Â
So your crush gave way to anger, a frustrated annoyance that made your blood simmer when you left work one Wednesday evening, autumn settling over the town as you wrapped your jacket around you a little tighter and headed to your car. Except Steve was leaning against the hood of it, a dozen red roses clutched in one hand. He didnât look nearly as put together as he normally did, but you thought he was twice as pretty. Still tanned, forever sunkissed even as the leaves on the trees started to fall, dressed in a pair of jeans and an old Harvard sweater. He didnât go to Harvard, didnât need to, but he looked every part the preppy boy you wouldâve fallen in love with if youâd made it to college.Â
He looked softer but still as confident as ever as he stayed lounging against your car, like he was waiting for you to come to him. Instead you rolled your eyes and headed to the driver's side of your old Volkswagen, ignoring him as you passed.Â
âWow, youâre just going to pretend Iâm not here?âÂ
Annoyance flared inside of you at the sound of his voice, unapologetic with a touch of entitlement. You scoffed, turning to the boy only to glare and you opened the drivers door so you could throw in your purse. âMost people would start with an apology, Steve.â
He pushed off the front of your hood and came to you, flowers held out as if to say âthis is the apology.â You could smell the flowers in the air, fresh and a vibrant red, overflowing from his hand and you could only imagine the price he paid for something that would wilt and die in a few days.Â
âYou actually have to say it, you know.â You challenged him, eyes meeting his, unblinking, unwavering. Time spent with the richest man in town had given you some confidence of your own, an unflinching boldness when faced with stares in restaurants, whispers in crowded bars. âI donât want your gifts.â
âHoney,â Steve tried, reaching for your hand. You moved back, out of his reach. He tried another approach, softer, sweeter. âBaby, câmon. Iâm sorry, alright? I am. I shouldnât have acted like that at the party.â
He was right, he shouldnât have. So you nodded but kept away, standing stiff and tense as you decided whether you should ask what you wanted to. You crossed your arms, a protective stance, and tried to sound braver than you felt. âWhy wasnât Eddie allowed to kiss me?â
Steve stared at you before he scoffed, setting the roses on your car roof before he shoved his hands into his pockets. His face became passive, a mask, a shield, the one he used on business calls and during luncheons with shareholders in his fathers companies. âSo thatâs what weâre doing now, huh? Kissing other people in front of each other?â
You could feel your frustration rising to the surface, bubbling and simmering and ready to explode out of you. âWhy shouldnât we? You said it yourself, weâre not together. Iâm not your girlfriend.â
Steve avoided the question, eyes flashing instead and he swiped a hand over his face, through his hair. âHoney, please, like you wouldn't throw a fit if I took someone out to dinner, hm? If you found out Iâd been taking someone else to nice restaurants andââ
âHow do I know thatâs not happening already!â You shot back, almost too loud. Mr and Mrs Lewinsky were walking arm and arm to their Mercedes, glancing over to the corner you car was tucked into. Thank god it was dark. You turned back to Steve, face heated. âYou leave, like all the time. Youâre gone for days and weeks, all over the world with villas and hotel rooms and penthouse apartments. You expect me to believe you donât have a girl in every city? Thereâs not another me waiting for you on your living room couch in New York? Monaco? Italy? France? Oh, Iâm sorry, do you maybe let them into your bed?â
Steve swore, looking around the parking lot as more people started to flood out now that dinner was over. Valets were moving cars down to the door and you could hear the voice of Frederick bidding guests goodbye. He held his hand out, âgive me your keys.â
You stared at him, face screwed up. âWhat?â
âI said,â Steve repeated calmly, âgive me your keys and get in the car.â
You scoffed, âno, Iâm not going anywhere with you. And youâre not driving my fucking car.â
âIâm not having this conversation here,â Steve muttered and his voice was annoyed. âEither get in and let me drive or Iâm marching you across the lot to my own car and you can wave to your boss at the same time.â
Annoyance pricked at your skin, a thousand needles of anger that made your back stiffen and your eyes narrow. âYou drive like a fucking formula one wannabe,â you hissed, but still you threw your keys at his chest and marched round to the passenger seat, not caring to see if he caught them or not. âYou fuck up my wheels, youâre buying me new alloys, Steve.â
Steve threw himself into the driver's seat and laughed meanly, lifting the bouquet of roses and throwing them into the backseat. Petals scattered everywhere. He slammed the door with the same amount of aggression as you did and once you were seated, he turned to you and smiled too sweetly. âHoney, Iâll buy you a new goddamn car, okay? Put your seatbelt on.â
You sat, stubborn, arms crossed and staring out the window. Your seatbelt remained unfastened. Steve revved the engine and despite the headlights stopping them from seeing who was behind the wheel of the beat up old Volkswagen, they were still staring.Â
âStop it,â you hissed. âJust, get us out of here, god.â
âSeatbelt,â Steve repeated. You didnât move and he tutted. âWhere did my good girl go, huh?â He leaned over you and you remained passive, even when his breath was on your jaw and his hand slid around your hip as he did the belt for you. âYou used to be so good at doing what you were told.â
âIâm not your girl,â you reminded him, smiling in a way that was anything but friendly. You felt dead behind the eyes, nothing but annoyance when you looked at Steve right then. âRemember?â
Steve grunted, swearing under his breath as he pulled away too fast and the wheels screeched as he sped out of the clubhouse parking lot. He hit sixty on the country roads at the back of Hawkins, screaming past the lake before he pulled off the road, just as you were ready to tell him off. He parked up in an empty lot, nothing but dirt and trees and a view of the water tower in the distance.Â
âThereâs no other girls,â he said, breaking the silence. It was easier not to yell in the dark, in the closeness of the front of the car, where everything felt intimately softer than before.Â
âWhat?â You scrunched your face, mostly in disbelief as you tried to recall what you had yelled at him before he drove your car away from the scene.Â
âThere arenât any girls in other cities. Thereâs no one fucking waiting for me in Monaco, or, or Cannes, or L.A, no one, okay?â
You scoffed, disbelieving and you unclipped your seatbelt so you could lean against the door, facing him. Steve was still gripping the wheel with one hand, another swiping tiredly over his face, but for what it was worth, he looked sincere. But still, annoyance and the lingering feeling of rejection clawed in your stomach, an awful, ugly thing that made you sneer.Â
âWhatever, you really expect me to believe that? The front page of the Hawkins Post ran a damn article about how your new yacht had a mirrored ceiling in one of the bedrooms.â You laughed meanly, sadly, hoping your voice didnât crack. âOkay, Hugh Hefner, excuse me if I donât buy your bullshit.â
Steve groaned again, a long suffering thing and he pulled at his sweater sleeves, rolling them up his forearms until his watch face glinted in the light of the moon. âFine, okay, yeah, I used to! Is that what you wanted to hear?â
No, it wasnât.Â
âHad a girl for each damn arm, alright? But I havenâtâ I havenâtââ Steve swallowed and you watched the harsh way his Adamâs apple bobbed, the furrow in his brow deepen. He didnât look at you when he said, âI havenât been with anyone else since you.â
It was a surprise, that was for sure. And what was even more startling, was the fact that you believed him, you truly did. Gone was the businessman facade, the smooth tone of voice that made you call him Mr Harrington. Instead there was a young man in front of you who was doing his best to make you understand.Â
âI donât do relationships, honey, you knew that,â Steve said and he sounded almost sad. âI donât kiss girls and hope they fall in love with me, I donât bring them home and take to my bed and let them believe weâll wake up together in the morning and fuckinâ cuddle.â
You blinked away tears, angry, upset, frustrated tears that burned the corners of your eyes. You sniffed, annoyed, venomous. âFine. Iâm far from declaring my undying adoration for you Steve, donât worry. But you donât then get to decide who I get to kiss if you donât wanna do it yourself.â
Steve stiffened then, turning to you with an angry flash in his eyes and hard set to his jaw. He narrowed his gaze at you and shook his head. âDonât test me, honey.â
You scoffed, defiant. âWhatever. Take me home, you can walk back to your car.â
âIâm not done talking,â Steve frowned and he couldnât believe it when you simply laughed and got out of the car. He jumped out after you, bewildered at the sight of you walking through mud and the littering of fallen leaves in your clubhouse uniform, heels and all. âWhat the fuck are you doing?â
âWalking,â you shot back, âwhat does it look like!âÂ
âGet in the damn car,â Steve said your name and it sounded like a warning, âitâs pitch fuckinâ black out here.â
You didnât turn around though, arms crossed right across your chest because youâd left your coat in your locker like an idiot. âThen Iâll find a pay phone, call for a ride. Maybe Eddie will come get me.â It was a cheap blow, but it did exactly what it was supposed to.Â
The sound of heavy feet marching up behind you, a hand on your arm to stop you from moving and then Steve was in front of you, face scrunched in anger, in frustration. He held your shoulders, slipped his wide hands down the length of your arms until he eased them from your chest and held your fingers between his.Â
âWhat do you want me to do, huh?â Steve asked, his voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He seemed to unravel slightly, a panic in his tone that youâd never heard before. âIâ I take you out, I treat you good, right? But you presents ânâ pretty things, fuckinâ flowers and shoes and dresses and take you to restaurant openings, parties and, andââ
âI donât want any of that, Steve!â You yelled, eyes wide. You felt too hot despite the cold night. âI never wanted any of that! I didnât ask for it.â You blew out a breath but you didnât drop his hands. âI appreciated it, all of it, I did. I do. But I didnât need any of that! I enjoyed being with you.â
Steve shook his head at you, lips parted and a look of confusion on his face. Like heâd never been told such a thing before. âSo, so what? You want Eddie? None of that, but you want Eddie, is that it?â
You huffed, head thrown back in exasperation and you counted to three, staring at the stars blinking back at you in the night sky and you wondered what you were doing here, you wondered what cruel twist of fate led you to sit down with Steve Harrington that night in the lounge.Â
âNo,â you eventually said, calmer than youâd sounded before. âNo, I donât want Eddie. God, Steve, I wanted you, alright? This whole time, just you. Not your money, or your cars or your houses or anything else. Just you. I wanted to hold your hand and go on dates. Somewhere stupid and lame like the movies, or, or a drive through for a cheap burger and shake. I wanted you to kiss me goodnight and kiss me good morning and maybe, I donât know, have sex with me on a mattress like a normal couple.â
You sniffed, willing away the tears that came with your speech. You werenât prepared to cry over a man who didnât want you the way you wanted him. But you watched Steveâs expression fall, a crumpled thing that made him look young and boyish. He dropped your hands only to move closer and cup your face instead, his thumb soothing over your bottom lip like he could will your upset away. You watched his gaze fall to your mouth, following the movements his thumb made across the seam of your lips like he wanted to put his against yours. His lips parted and he looked pained.Â
âIâm not asking you to fucking marry me, Steve, but god, why wonât you at least kiss me? Am I that much of a throw away toy for you that you wonât evenââ
âBecause if I kiss you, Iâll fucking fall in love with you, okay!â Steve barked out, sudden and rushed and panicked sounding. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath, letting his hands fall to your neck, his head falling forward. âGod.â
You didnât say anything. You couldnât.Â
âYou donât think I know I can get any girl I want?â Steve laughed and it sounded powerful, it sounded like money. âHoney, I walked into the club that day and saw your pretty face and knew I was fucked.â Steve lifted his head so you could see him again, lips parted in surprise at his admission but he just smiled. He brought a hand back to your cheek, smoothed a thumb over the apple of it, down the line of your jaw. âSo I told myself I could just have some with you, see how good you looked without that uniform on, maybe spoil you a little and whatnot.â
âYouâre a pig,â you told him but you didnât move away.Â
âI know,â Steve shrugged. âWasnât looking for a wife honey, I just loved the way you got all huffy with me, how sweet youâd get when I got my hands on you.â Steve dragged his thumb down your neck, pressed lightly and watched the way you tilted your chin up for him. âYouâre just so fucking pretty.â
âBut then you had to get under my skin didnât you? Thought about you all the goddamn time and couldnât look at any other girl without seeing your face instead.â Steve tsked, walked you backwards until you were against the side of your car and pressed against him. âHated it at first, you know. Tried to stay away for longer than I needed to, but shit, got back into town and went straight to the club to see you. There you were, pretty as ever and chewing me out for being gone too long, callinâ me Mr Harrington like you knew it would get me so fuckinâ hot for you.â
Steve grinned when you whined, a knee jerk response to the way he was sliding a hand around your upper thigh, up under the hem of your dress and your head hit the door of your car with a dull thud. âAte at Michelin star restaurants all âround the world, honey, but Iâve never tasted anything as good as you, you know that?â He was on your throat now, mouthing up it, licking a line along your neck until he could nip at your jaw. âWant you, all the time. Just you. It drives me fucking insane and I dunno what to do.â
You felt the fight leave you and you hated yourself for it, feeling weaker every time Steve put his mouth on your skin and his nose was pressed to your cheek now, one hand in your hair and the other squeezing at the dough do your ass under your dress, pulling up the hem of it to expose you to the cool air and it was all filthy. It was all exactly why you entered into this whole situation in the first place. Steve Harrington - money and family name or not - made you feel like you were on fucking fire.Â
So you grabbed at him, tried to fight back in other ways, with fingers in his hair so you could tug him down and let him latch his mouth to your neck. He scraped his teeth along the column of it, groaning when you pulled meanly. Steve swore, licking over the bruise heâd marked you with, a pink-red bloom on your skin that would remind you of him even days later. His nose bumped yours as he leaned down to you, crowding you against the car and up against his chest and you were panting, waiting for it, feeling the way he let his nose graze yours, a teasing back and forth that left his mouth hovering over yours.Â
âGet in the back,â Steve whispered and it was a quiet order, a soft demand, one that you knew youâd bend to because you were soaked, clit pulsing against the lace of your underwear, and shit, Steve knew that too.Â
But it didnât mean you werenât going to make him work for it.Â
âNo,â you argued back. You didnât mean it, this was foreplay. This was everything that got Steve a little hot under the collar, the way you played pretend and tried to get your own way. âYou can fuck me here, âgainst the door.â
Steve laughed and he pressed the sound into your cheek, teeth against your skin and he pushed a kiss there, a smattering of them as his hands went back under your dress and he pulled down your underwear with the tips of his fingers. He let them fall to the ground, not bothering to pick them up.Â
âGet in the car, honey. Front or back, you decide, but either way youâre gonna ride me, okay?â Steve told you and that big, bad businessman voice was back, the one that made your toes curl and your cunt ache. Sweet, syrupy, demanding. He brought a hand between your thighs and cupped you, groaning at the heat and the slick that coated his fingers as he swept them through your folds. âSheâs missed me,â he cooed, not asking but telling. Like it was a fact.Â
âThis is the last time,â you told him and it felt like you were trying to tell yourself that too. âWe donât want the same things, fuckââ you were cut off on a gasp when Steve circled your clit, his gaze heavy and dark as he leaned in and let his forehead touch yours. âSâall gonna end in a mess.â
âIn the car, honey,â Steve reminded you, neither agreeing or arguing with your words. There wasnât any point. You both knew this wasnât the end. âCâmon, be a good girl for me.â
So you stepped out of your underwear and left them lying, like some sick white flag, a symbol of surrender as you pushed Steve away and opened the back door, sliding over the seats as Steve joined you. The door clicked shut and silence took over, the dark and heavy kind that came with the late night, the one that carried a special type of tension and it filled the whole space, it fizzed and crackled in the air between you and it made you fucking breathless.Â
You watched with a tight chest as Steve sat back in the middle seat, already looking wrecked, his hair a mess from your greedy fingers. He spread his legs as much as he could in the tight space and he nodded to his lap, where you could already see the outline of his dick pressed under the denim. âSit,â he said.Â
Not feeling as ready to argue anymore, you listened to the throbbing between your legs and obeyed, the top of your head grazing the car roof as you slid onto Steveâs lap, thighs spread over his in a way that made you burn that white-blue type of hot, because your dress was too short and your underwear was still outside. He could see everything when you looked down, hem of your uniform flirting too high, the dirty spread of you on display. Even in the low light he could see you shine, wet and ready, all for him.Â
But Steve kept his hands on the seats, practically lounging as he tilted his head back to look at you from where you were perched on top of him. He studied you, like a piece of art he was ready to buy. His eyes found yours before his gaze dropped to your nose, your cheeks, the line of your jaw, the slope of your neck. Then he found your lips, parted and wanting, the tip of your tongue peeking from between as if you were just dying for something to taste.Â
Maybe his fingers, you liked that. The heavy feel of them on your tongue so you could suck on them while he fucked you slow. Maybe his neck, right where it met his shoulder, that almost always bruised piece of skin that you bit down on when you came, riding Steveâs cock somewhere you shouldnât and you had to keep quiet. Maybe you wanted his dick, too big to take all of it, but the stretch of your jaw and the hot slide of it over your tongue made you rock your hips against nothing, especially when Steve was feeling extra sweet and swept his hands over your face when you sucked him off, thumbing at the corners of your full mouth as he told you how pretty you looked.Â
But he offered none of those. No. Instead, he cleared his throat and asked, âwhat do you want?â
You looked at him, a question mark on your face, just able to see the shine of his eyes and the strong lines of his nose and jaw in the dark. His hands remained by his sides. âWhat?â
Steve smiled, just a small thing. âI said, what do you want?â
âYou,â you answered shyly, only after a beat or two of quiet. You kept it deliberately vague, leaving it to the boy to decipher if that meant sex or more. Or both. âI want you, Steve.â
âYou donât want my money,â he said, and it wasnât a question. He knew that already. âNot interested in where I could take you, what I could buy you. No,â Steve's voice grew warmer, softer, fond. âTold you before, didnât I? I know my girl just wants fucked.â
You squirmed, nodding. Because if this was the last time, youâd make sure you enjoyed it. But then Steve did something even more unexpected. He let his hands settle on your thighs, still a little cold from being outside and you hissed at the slide of them going upupup. He didnât touch your cunt though, didnât let his fingers play with you like he usually did.Â
âCâmere,â he asked instead. âClose your eyes, yeah?â
Your brows stitched together at his request. You were hardly a stranger to blindfolds and surprises, but this didnât seem like the time or place.Â
âYou trust me?â Steve whispered and his gaze was on your lips, waiting.Â
It didnât take you long to nod, because yes, despite it all, despite Steveâs issues with⊠commitment, you did trust him. You believed him about the other girls, about everything.Â
âGood girl. Close your eyes,â Steve asked again and you did.Â
The car seemed smaller with one sense gone. Eyes shut and Steve so near. You could feel his warmth, the way he moved into you a little more, closer than before until his breath was fanning over your mouth and chin and his nose was bumping yours. Your stomach tumbled.Â
âI canât promise you anything,â he whispered into you. You could feel his lips moving, a barely there ghost against your own. His touch felt like a secret. âI donât know howâ how to be someoneâs boyfriend. Iâve never done that. But I can try, if youâll let me.â
You werenât sure when your own hands had moved but they were fisting the front of Steveâs sweater. The letters for Harvard crushed in your palms and you were holding on for dear life.Â
âYou said this was the last time,â Steve murmured and you wanted to open your eyes, you wanted to stare him down and challenge him but you did as he asked. You kept your eyes closed. âIs this the last time, baby?â
Baby.Â
âOr are you gonna give me a chance? Iâll do my best for you, I swear, Iâll try,â Steveâs mouth was moving over your cheek, kisses pressed there between each word until he was mouthing along your jaw and chin and you were weak, sitting on top of him and feeling like you could melt. âIâll try for you, honey, donât wanna lose you. Donât want you with someone else.â
He was talking faster now, like there was an urgency there that wasnât before and his hands were skimming up from your thighs to squeeze at your waist before his palms were cupping your jaw and pulling you to him. His lips touched yours, only just and you gasped like youâd been burned. Steve kept you there, panting hard, his own eyes closed now and his brow furrowed.Â
âTell me to stop,â he whispered and his voice cracked. Gone was the businessman. He smelled like mint toothpaste and cologne, like sunscreen. âWe can stop this here and Iâll let you go and we can pretend we never met, if thatâs what you want.â
You only clung to him tighter, one hand trailing blindly up his neck until you could pull at the longer hairs there and hold him. You made a noise of protest, tears lining your lashes as you tried to squeeze your eyes shut tighter so theyâd stay in. You shook your head, nose brushing Steveâs, lips moving over his so, so briefly.Â
âI donât want to stop.â
You werenât sure what you thought your first kiss with Steve Harrington would be like. Youâd thought about it a lot, sure. But it was usually in the heat of the moment, when he was inching inside of you, hips slapping against your own, your fingers tight in his hair and whispering filthy things to each other. You thought heâd kiss you like that, hard and fast and messy, with a dirty lick of his tongue. But Steve moved slowly, almost shy. He hesitated as he brought his thumb over your cheek, a brief touch before he was closing the gap and meeting your lips with his.Â
It was slow, careful. Soft. A gentle thing and Steve exhaled shakily, his breath fanning over your cheek as he tilted his head and let you press closer. His lips parted, tongue swiping over yours as the kiss deepened and when you let out a soft noise of appreciation, the boy groaned and his hands fell to your waist, squeezing and pulling you closer still.Â
Once he started, it was like he couldnât stop.Â
Steve pulled away only briefly for you both to suck in a breath, his lips finding yours again until the kiss turned into the kind youâd thought about, a messy, dirty thing that had you whining into his open mouth, tugging at his hair until he let you swallow each groan. Steveâs eyes were closed when he spoke, chest heaving, words a low, rough rasp and his hands were under your dress now, fingertips skimming up the inside of your thighs until you were squirming.Â
âWant it, honey? Yeah?â Steve was mouthing over your jaw, kissing at your cheek as you panted, pulling at his belt buckle until you could free his cock from his boxers. He sounded drunk, wrecked. âThatâs it, good girl, câmon, take it. Sâall yours.â
Steve let his head fall back, resting on the back seat of the car, eyes hooded as he watched you. You didnât waste any time, pulling at the button of his jeans until you had enough room to free his cock. He was already hard, leaking for you, his breath hitching when you wrapped a small hand around him and pumped once, twice. You swiped a thumb over the tip, dragged the slick back down the length of him and leaned in, intent on making Mr. Steve fucking Harrington, business man, millionare, poker winner, car collector, fall apart for you.
Your nose slid against and your bottom lip brushed his, a teasing thing that you managed to not give into, even when Steve's lips chased yours. Heâd made you wait months for a kiss, he could wait another minute or two. You pumped his cock again, fisting it a little tighter, the way youâd learned that heâd liked. He was quick to pant into your mouth, lips catching yours when he titled his chin up for you.
âTell me itâs mine,â you coaxed, voice low and sweet, just the way Steve loved to speak to you. You palmed his cock, voice sugar. âTell me this is mine.â
Steveâs hands swept up your thighs, thumbs pressing into the skin, grip bordering on too tight, a possessive touch. He was breathing heavily, the windows in the car starting to steam up, condensation running tracks down the glass. âSâyours,â he slurred, drunk sounding, softer than ever. âSâyour cock, honey, promise.â
You couldnât wait any longer, rutting yourself against Steveâs thigh as you touched him, foreheads pressed together, lips catching against each other and it pulled a moan from both of you when you raised up on your knees. Dirty, wet noises filled the car as you ran the head of his cock through your folds and Steve dragged your dress up, pushing the material over your hip so he could watch you sink down onto him, taking every inch.
He helped you bounce, up and down, up and down before you started a lazy roll of your hips, grinding down against the boy until you were pulling on his hair and whining into the crook of his neck. It was all too much and Steveâs hand grabbed at the nape of your neck, hand fisting in your own hair, bordering on too tight but he brought your face back to his, eyes half lidded as he gazed at you and pleaded: âshit, honey, kiss me? Kiss me, please, fuck-- mâgonna come.â
His neediness made you groan, a pitchy, breathy noise that Steve soon swallowed, your lips melting between his as he caught you in a kiss, open mouthed and possessive, teeth and tongues as he came. His hips bucked up as you rode him harder and the boy let go of your hair to cup your jaw, his free hand falling to rub at your clit with two fingers, white hot pleasure shooting up your spine. You fell into him, letting Steve catch you and you kissed him, eyes glassy, squeezed shut, your mouth on his as you both came hard. You felt Steveâs cock twitch, spilling into you as he kissed you, chest heaving against yours and as your hips slowed, so did his kisses, softer, kinder.
âYou okay?â he breathed, breath fanning over your lips, your cheeks, your gaze blurry and unfocused. âBaby, you with me?â
Baby. Babybabybaby.
You nodded, nose knocking against his but you didnât dare pull away. You didnât want to. And by the looks of things, Steve wasnât ready to let you go either. His hands soothed over your hair, pushing back the stray strands that clung to your damp forehead, your warm cheeks. He was still inside of you, softening only slightly, a mix of you both spilling over your thighs. It was dirty, filthy, it was the most tender thing youâd experienced with him.
âSo good,â Steve breathed, cheeks flushed, his eyes shining. He looked drunk, he looked as gone as you felt, his hands roaming over you, touching every piece of bare skin he came across, palming greedily at your hips, your thighs, your ass. He dotted a line of kisses from your neck to your cheek, nosing there until you lifted your chin for him and kissed his lips, sighing as you did. âSo fuckinâ good for me, all the time, huh? My girl, fuck, youâre so pretty, so, so pretty.â
You lazed against him, soaking up his touch, his words, the insane feel of his lips over your skin, your throat, chasing your lips until you pressed into him, opening your mouth when he did, tongues brushing over each other in languid strokes. Steve kissed like he fucked, like he wanted you to feel every part, like he wanted you to remember it for days.
âCome home wâme,â he murmured into your lips, never leaving them, never stopping his kisses. Steve whispered between words, hummed happily when your hands clasped his cheeks, when your fingers trailed over the stubble on his jaw. âCome back to mine, please. We can talk âbout everything. Iâll make you breakfast in the morning, Iâll wake up beside you. Please.â
Your heart stopped at the idea of it all. The intimacy you hadnât been given yet. The thought of Steve talking to you about something as serious and long term as a relationship. No dropping you home after five orgasms, kissing the back of your hand as he dropped you at your apartment at three am. No running off to an airport, no flights, no meetings, no business calls to interrupt.Â
âYou canât cook,â is what you said, voice muffled by his shoulder, the way your face was buried in the crook of his neck.Â
Steve scoffed, laughing even though you could hear the nerves there. He nosed at your cheek until you emerged, a hand wrapping gently around your neck, thumb pushed to the underside of your chin so youâd meet his gaze and the sincerity there took your breath away. You were still on his lap, his softening cock still inside of you but neither of you made the move to unravel from the other.
âI mean it,â he whispered and in the quiet of the night it was like you could hear his heartbeat. A thumpthumpthump that rattled the air between you, but fuck, maybe that was your own. âCome home with me, honey. I wanna-- I wanna make this right.â
-------
The next morning, Steve woke you up with his lips on your cheek, a soft, cautious thing that you leaned into even half asleep. Your bare chest pressed to his, your legs stretching out alongside the boyâs. You turned, arms needling around Steveâs neck so you could find his lips with yours, mouths searching, needy, suddenly desperate even with half closed eyes.Â
âMorning,â you murmured.
âMorninâ, honey,â Steve whispered back and you couldnât see with your closed eyes but the boy was smiling, soft and proud and fond.Â
You were right, the night before, in the car. Steve didnât cook. So after a shared shower where you let Steve hook your leg over his shoulder and kiss at your cunt until you came on his tongue - his eyes on your the entire time, his nose squished all pretty against your pussy as he came in his own fist, the waterfall shower raining down on you both - Steve took you out for breakfast.
Dressed in a pair of his running shorts that you had to roll up and one of his hoodies that had a tiny Yves Saint Laurent logo on the chest, you were relieved to find a pair of sneakers in your trunk. Youâd mumbled that youâd looked ridiculous, but Steve had just used your embarrassment to kiss you again, hands on your cheeks and pulling you to him in the driveway.Â
He got to take his car instead of yours, only because you got to choose where to eat.Â
So Steve Harrington drove you both from his three story townhouse in his shiny BMW to a Mom and Popâs just out of town. He held your hand across the parking lot, held the door open for you and plucked at his sweater collar to pull you in for a kiss over the table, red leather seats sticking to his expensive jeans. But he didnât say anything, didnât complain, didnât mutter about missing out on eggs benedict and caviar at the clubhouse because here, he got to kiss you all he wanted.
And it was worth it, to watch the way you softened for him, feet against his under the table, sharing a strawberry milkshake that didnât really go with the hashbrowns and bacon youâd ordered. It was worth it, to leave his pager at home, to ignore the incessant beeping, emails pinging in his office about flights, meetings, business deals, money, shares, stocks.Â
Steve was realising it was all worth it, to have you.Â
I'll be usin' for the rest of my lifeÂ
Three Years Later.
The sway of the boat made you feel weightless. A miracle really, considering how heavy you actually felt. The italian sun warmed your skin, mostly bare from your bikini, straps slipping down your shoulders as you lay flat on a lounger, sunglasses covering your eyes from the harsh blue skies above.
The water was the same colour, the gentle lap of the ocean on the sides making you sleepy. The bustle of the city was barely heard, Monaco in the distance as the yacht bobbed just outside of the harbour. Despite its size, The Smart Girl hardly had anyone on board. You were on the deck, catching the last of the dayâs sun, with a few staff members milling around. And Steve? Steve was in one of the rooms heâd made into his office from home, a big oak desk taking up most of the space and heâd sit for hours taking calls, pouting at you from the open door as he tried to coax you in to sit on his lap. Youâd always refuse, stretching out on your lounger, bikini top riding up, giving him a show until he could string enough words together to make an excuse to whatever big shot millionaire was on the other end of the line.
âThereâs my baby.â
The lounger dipped as Steve pushed a knee to the cushion, crowding over you, leaning in to greet you with a kiss, tasting like aperol and oranges. You hummed into him, salt on both of your lips from the sun, the sea. Steve kissed your cheek too, moving down to nuzzle at your neck as his hand skimmed over your belly, the slight swell of it making your red bikini bottoms stretch out.
âAnd my other baby,â Steve cooed cupping your growing tummy.Â
âYou said an hour, tops,â you complained but there wasnât any heat behind it. It was hard to be annoyed about Steve leaving you to your own devices when the Mediterranean sea was rocking you to sleep. âNo more business, right?â
Steve smirked at your bossiness, nodding as he leaned back down to ghost some kisses along your shoulder, he nipped at your jaw and hummed. âNo more business, honey. Mâall yours.â
The trip was supposed to be a babymoon of sorts, even though you were only a few months into your pregnancy and you were sure Steve would whisk you off somewhere else warm and sunny as the months passed. But heâd promised no business, no meetings and when the chance to join a conference call with the owner of the city's most prestigious club arose, Steve caved.Â
âIâll buy you somethinâ pretty to make up for it,â heâd told you and youâd tried to act huffy but after three years together, the man saw right through you.Â
âHowâd the call go?â You asked him, eyeing him greedily as he popped some buttons on his shirt, the white linen falling open to show off sunkissed skin, the gold chain around his neck.Â
Steve slipped his sunglasses from his pocket onto his nose, made sure to wink at you over the frame of them so you knew he saw your appreciative gaze. He stretched out next to you, one of the staff members appearing - Paul - with a tray of lemon water and glasses as he got comfy. âIt went well,â he smiled his thanks to Paul and gave you a class, coaxing you to drink up. âWe scheduled another call for when weâre back home to iron out some details. I told him my pretty wife would have me thrown overboard if I took any longer.â
Steve grinned when you frowned. âI wouldnât do that,â you mumbled. âIâd just yell at you for a bit.â
Steve leaned in, still smiling, nosing along your jawline as his hand plucked at the flimsy strap of your bikini. âYou know that would just get me all hot, right?â
You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your smile in his neck, tipping it back to let Steve kiss the skin there. He still smelled like he did when you first met him, the same expensive cologne, sunscreen and the Italian countryside. âYou make me sound so bossy,â you murmured, meeting him for a kiss.Â
âYou are,â Steve whispered, his hand back on your tummy, his thumb running over the bump in soft circles. âMâwhipped, remember?â He held up his other hand, the band on his ring finger glinting in the sun.Â
âYou complained when Eddie said it,â you teased.Â
âThatâs âcause Eddieâs a dick,â Steve shot back but it was light hearted. âSpeaking of, I promised him weâd meet him for dinner when we got back. I know itâs not your favourite butââ
âThe clubhouse?â You groaned, pouting. âReally?â
âHe loves the steak tartare there, honey, I donât know what to tell you.â
âI was fired from thereââ you reminded him, voice surly.Â
âYouâre a member there,â Steve quipped back. He kissed your palm, over your knuckles, lips grazing the diamond on your finger.Â
ââafter my boss caught you going down on me in the ladies changing rooms,â you continued, cheeks still hot at the memory even if it was years ago. Youâd never forget the expression on Frederickâs face. âI canât look that man in the eye, never mind order dinner from him.â
âFun times,â Steve smirked. âDonât you love being able to click your fingers at the man who made your life hell? Order the most expensive champagne with all your money?â
You whined, a fake complaint as Steve manhandled you into his lap, letting you lie between his legs, your back resting his chest. He was warm from the sun, strong, solid. âI donât click my fingers at anyone, Harrington. Itâs rude. And itâs not my money, Iâm unemployed. Iâm basically a leech,â you pouted up at him, all faux dramatics.Â
Steve snorted at your words before leaning down, skimming his lips over your hairline, his hands, wide and warm, cupping the swell of your tummy. âYouâre not unemployed, youâre on maternity leave. And studying. No woman of mine is working while sheâs growing our baby,â he kissed your nose when you tilted your chin up to him, smiling. âAnd whatâs mine is yours, Harrington,â he shot back.Â
âYour woman?â You raised your brows at his words.Â
âMy favourite one,â Steve whispered. He was still all charm, even after the years had passed. His voice grew softer then, fingers trailing up your ribs. âCanât wait to take you home - both of you - get settled, build a crib, paint a nursery.â
âYouâre not building a crib,â you laughed, eyes shining. It was easy, it was wonderful, being this is love. This happy. âHave you even held a hammer before, Steve?â
He responded by nipping at your neck, enticing a squeal from you, a choked laugh. âYouâre incredibly rude, Mrs Harrington, Iâll let you know I have, actually.â
You turned in his arms, kneeling between his thighs and you watched as his eyes darkened, gaze trailing over the way your breasts pushed out, the way your thighs pressed themselves together. âThatâs not important,â he answered tartly and he grinned when you snorted.Â
The new house back in Indiana was modest, by Steveâs standards. But heâd let you choose, a family home that was built in the 1800âs with big, bay windows, original cornicing and a fireplace in each bedroom. A perfect family home, with more rooms in it than you couldâve ever imagined having.
It had been easier than youâd thought, to get here. With Steve Harrington, married and with a baby on the way. Not that youâd expected it, not back then. But weeks turned into months and months turned into years, your first anniversary sailing by without much issue. There were arguments, forlorn phone calls when Steve left for business and you had to work, shouting matches when the boy came home and tried to get you to quit work altogether, âcause you didnât need a wage when you had him, right?
But he was quick to compromise, when it came to you. Kissing away your upset, swapping expensive gifts for genuine apologies, your favourite flowers that came by the handful instead of the boxes of hundred dollar bouquets made by someone else. Was he smug about it when the job at The Lake House came to an end? Sure. Too smug, maybe, considering he gave a half assed apology to Frederick with your lipstick trailed across his cheek and jaw. But he supported you - celebrated you - when you got a new position in a paralegalâs office, picking back up your textbooks that you once had to abandon.Â
There was a big bed to share now, a wardrobe that held both your clothes, suits and silk dresses, your old sweaters, Steveâs knitwear that was practically all yours. Your toothbrush next to his, your vinyls next to his record player, a stocked fridge with all the ingredients for his favourite meals, ready for you to reach him how to cook. There was sex, holidays, hotels, more sex, nights on the sofa with blankets and movies, a diamond, Steve in the driver's seat in the parking lot of that Mom ânâ Pops diner, the ring clutched between his shaky fingers as he told you how much he loved you. A pregnancy test, staring back at you both from the bathroom vanity, a year after the wedding in Cannes, the honeymoon in the Maldives.Â
Unplanned, yes? Unexpected, definitely. Did it make you both overwhelmingly excited? More than you could express.Â
Steve took your chin in his hand, pulling you in, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip, his eyes growing softer when you kissed at it. âAre you happy?â he whispered.
âWith you?â you answered, smiling. âAlways.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington oneshot
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poker face - snowjanus x reader
a game of strip poker with your roommates turns into something a little moreâŠ
modern!snowjanus x reader roommate au
cw: 18+//threesome//oral (f. and m. receiving)//fingering//piv sex//anal//stripping//drinking
âyou guys are so unfair,â you whined as you removed a sock, having lost to their higher hands. theyâd changed the rules so it was only the loser that had to strip, and unbeknownst to you, both the boys were more than amateurs at the game.
âitâs only the rules,â coriolanus teased, taking a swig of his beer.
you watched the two boys exchange glances as sejanus dealt another hand to each of you, communicating in their own psychic way. it vexed you, the two of them did that a lot, especially when you brought a guy home.
âwell, itâs not like theyâre the real rules,â you shook your head, picking up the cards and sighing as you found yourself with a two pair, again.
a smile flickered upon coriolanusâ lips as he saw his full house, and he once again looked at sejanus, who didnât seem too put off by his straight. still, it couldâve been better, but by the dour look etched upon your features, they could tell you were disappointed by your hand.
they moved their chips forward, coriolanus bargaining the most, and you sighed, knowing that it was likely youâd be the one clutching at a blanket by the end of the evening, attempting to shield your body. you donât even know why youâd agreed to this, but you couldnât deny that you were dying to see the boys undressed. youâd accidentally seen one too many-a-things to pique your curiosity, especially when either of them wore grey sweatpants.
âfuck,â you sighed as coriolanus put his cards down on the table, revealing he had a full house.
sejanus raised his brows nervously, but sighed with relief as you showed your defeated hand. his straight would mean he didnât have to remove his clothing, which was scarce, as both boys were lounging around in sweatpants and shirts. there wasnât much to take off.
âthis isnât fun if iâm the only one whoâs going to be stripping,â you frowned, but coriolanus just laughed.
âshouldnât have agreed to play with us,â disappointment filled his eyes when he saw you remove another sock. âoh, and rule change⊠next time you lose, you need to take off a real item of clothing. no more socks or watches.â
you shook your head, and reached for the glass of red wine perched on the coffee table. if you had to continue, you decided that you could at least get a little help from the liquor, just as the boys did.
sejanus dealt a hand this time, and your lips curled up with a grin when you realised youâd gotten a royal flush. you wanted to bet big this time, and pushed all your chips in. both boys could see you struggled to keep a poker face, but sejanus let out a defeated sigh when he realised he only had a pair.
âwell boys, which one of you is stripping?â you giggled, showing your royal flush.
coriolanus showed his full house, a little disappointed that youâd won this time. beginnerâs luck, he supposed. sejanus tossed his cards down, a little disgruntled that heâd lost. because youâd made such a hefty bet, youâd raked up all their chips, grinning.
âcome on sej, what are you going to take off, pants or shirt?â you teased, watching as a blush crept across his cheeks.
he pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscular and taught torso, causing you to giggle again, face burning. coriolanus didnât mind either, and you caught his eyes going wide as your roommate removed his shirt.
âsee, that wasnât so hard now, was it?â you cajoled, basking in the giddiness of your win.
you dealt the hand this time, body humming in anticipation. you wanted to luck out again this time, but frowned when you scooped up your cards and were left with merely a straight.
this time, it was coriolanus who lost, and you watched as he too removed his shirt. you noticed a dog tag dangling from around his neck, obviously from when heâd joined the army on an impulse, or so heâd said, and felt your mouth water a little at the sight of his well-toned chest.
âoh boys,â you sighed, clucking your tongue. the alcohol had made your lips a little loose, and they seemed acutely aware that you were now the most clothed one there.
another hand was dealt. you had finally been defeated, and sighed as you decided what would be best to remove. you couldnât deny the burning between your thighs as the two of them sat on the couch, shirtless, while you were sat cross-legged on the floor.
you could be extra teasing and remove your bra from underneath your dress, but then if you lost again, youâd run the risk of being only in your panties. however, it wouldnât be as fun if you pulled off your dress, wanting to make them wait. you saw the way they were eyeing you, slouched over, eyes fixated on your every movement.
you lifted up the back of your dress, and unclasped your bra. you were a little relieved youâd chosen to wear the pretty one, baby blue and lacy, and as you slipped it off your arms, you heard their breaths catching in their throats.
âyouâre such a fuckinâ tease,â coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his golden curls.
âhey, just think about what sheâll have to take off next, coryo,â sejanus laughed, but coriolanus still frowned with displeasure.
âyou never said which order i had to remove the clothes,â you murmured, tossing the bra at the couch.
coriolanus caught it in his hands, a surprised look creeping across his cheeks as he realised what he was clutching. he could smell the faint scent of your perfume, miss dior, was it?âand felt his cock twitch a little in his sweatpants. god, it would be hard to keep hiding the fact that he wanted your lips around his cock.
âmhm, well next time, iâm going to make you remove that dress,â he replied, causing sejanus to let out a guffaw.
it was no secret between the boys that they both wanted you, enthralled by your pretty smile and the way you were always so touchy with them. theyâd been planning this for a while now, hoping that you just couldnât refuse the gameâand youâd been more than willing when it had been suggested. secretly, you fantasised about taking both of them, watching as one stretched your pretty little hole out while the other fucked your throat.
âoh really?â your brows quirked up. âyouâre going to make me?â
coriolanus nodded, eyes dancing with want. you pursed your lips together with curiosity, forgetting that you were supposed to actually be playing poker.
âcoryo,â sejanus laughed, watching as the two of you shamelessly flirted. he felt a little pang of jealousy with the attention not being entirely on him, but he was sure he wouldnât be left out with the way youâd been eyeing his big arms before.
âwhat do you think, sej?â coriolanus inquired, turning to look at his friend. âthink i can make her take her dress off?â
sejanus pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes narrowing in on you. your face was flushed now, and though you tried to hide it, you were trembling a little nervously. he nodded his head.
âyeah,â he mumbled, breath catching slightly at the thought of your naked form.
you stood up from the ground, and made your way over to the boys who were draped across the couch. you stood between them now, watching as their eyes flickered to the bottom of your dress, which barely covered the top of your thighs.
âwell, are you going to make me?â you mused, fingers clutching at the hem of your dress.
coriolanusâ hands grasped at your thighs, and you couldnât hold back the gasp at the feeling of the cold touch on your skin. they travelled to grip at the hem, brushing your own clutching hands away, and he hiked the dress up past your panties.
âoh my,â he sighed as he revealed a pair that matched the bra youâd tossed at him some time earlier.
sejanus let out a groan, and unable to keep his hands to himself, he grabbed your arm. unlike coriolanus, his touch was warm; pleasant. the alternating sensations sent your head into a spin, and you let your eyes flutter shut.
coriolanus pulled you down against his thigh, and your eyes opened again, watching as he slipped the dress over your head. you shivered at the feeling of the cool air brushing against your bare skin. both boys groaned at the sight of your breasts, perfectly pert, nipples cold and hard. sejanus couldnât help himself, and ran a hand over the sensitive skin.
âoh,â you sighed as he stroked your nipple.
your core burned, and you found yourself clenching around coriolanusâ thigh, searching for a way to relieve the tension. he could only watch in awe, eyeing your perfect body. he felt the wetness from your panties as you began to grind against his thigh.
âfuck,â you groaned, body humming with pleasure as sejanus continued to run at your hard nipples. he had both of his hands cupped around your breasts, watching as you continued to search for release against coriolanusâ thigh.
he couldnât have that though, the way you were gasping, and the friction of your cunt upon his leg made the blood rush to his cock.
âsheâs so pretty coryo,â sejanus sighed. âi wanna fuck her.â
you were a little taken aback by the words coming out of his mouth. sejanus was usually sweet, you would expect coriolanus to speak with that sort of frankness. it only made your thighs burn more, knowing that they both wanted you.
âyeah? how does that sound, princess?â coriolanus asked, shifting a little uncomfortably as he tried to accomodate for the straining bulge in his sweatpants.
âi want you both,â you mewled, looking all pathetic already. youâd had such control before, teasing them, and now you were a mess, rubbing your wet pussy against coriolanusâ leg.
âboth?â coriolanus gasped. âgreedy, are we?â
you nodded dumbly, rutting helplessly against him. you could feel yourself coming undone, but before you could edge your way to your orgasm, coriolanus pulled you off his lap and put you down between himself and sejanus.
both boys are straining in their pants, and you can see how hungrily theyâre eyeing you. the wine removed any shyness youâd had about your body, but youâre still very conscious of the fact that youâre in nothing but your panties.
âdonât tease her so much, coryo,â sejanusâ tone was laced with a tone of pleaâhe wanted to get on with things, he just couldnât help himself, he was throbbing inside his boxers, tip dribbling a little with precum.
you smiled innocently at sejanus, but your eyes were dancing with desire, and the heat between your legs had not ebbed. you could see how hard he was, and wanting to help him, you ghosted a hand over the bulge.
he let out a groan, and coriolanus watched greedily, jealous that the attention was removed from him. you couldnât help yourself, and slipped your hand past the waistband of his pants and boxers, beginning to palm his cock. he was thick, and throbbing against your hand.
âdidnât know you were so desperate to fuck me, sej,â you teased, pulling his cock out before your eyes.
your mouth watered, but you were aware of coriolanusâ heavy-breathing, laced with jealousy. you settled onto your knees on the couch, ass perched close to coriolanusâ face, and bent down to give sejanusâ cock a kiss.
âfuck,â he sighed, and you looked up at him through your thick lashes, seeking his permission. âgo ahead.â
you moved the flat of your tongue around the tip of his cock, licking up the drops of precum, circling until you were satisfied that it was all gone. coriolanus groaned at the sight of you watching you glide your tongue across sejanusâ cock, and couldnât ignore the fact that your ass was practically presenting itself to him.
you moved your tongue up the underside of sejanusâ cock, watching as he groaned, hand fisting in your hair. you felt coriolanusâ hands on your ass, but were too distracted by sejanus that you didnât notice him sliding your panties down your legs.
you wrapped your lips around sejanusâ tip, and began to take him further in your mouth, watching as his hips bucked at the wet warmth of your saliva coating his cock. you let out a gasp as you felt coriolanusâ fingers glide across your wet folds, and pulled away from sejanus for a brief moment to see him fingering you from behind.
âso fucking wet, look at her, sej,â coriolanus cooed, thumb pressing against your clit.
you gasped, but moved so you were taking sejanus down your throat again, head bobbing as your tongue slipped up and down his thick shaft.
âi wanna make you cum,â coriolanus mused, watching as you squirmed from his touch.
sejanusâ hips twitched a little as you took him fully in your mouth, balls slapping slightly against your chin. he couldnât help but buck against your lips, watching as you gagged. your eyes pricked a little with tears, but you pushed them away, determined to take him as deep as you could until he was coming down your throat.
coriolanus bent his head down and buried himself between your thighs, tongue lapping gently at the slickness pooling at your hole. your pussy looked beautiful from behind, and it tasted even better, just as sweet as heâd imagined. you moaned against sejanusâ cock, the hum sending him over the edge.
âjesus,â sejanus huffed out as he came down your throat.
thick, hot ropes slid onto your tongue as he slipped himself out, and you swallowed him up, even taking care to suck a little at the tip to make sure all his cum was making its way down to your belly. he whined from the feeling of your lips around his overstimulated tip.
sejanus had to pry you off of him for fear heâd be coming again, and you turned your attention back to coriolanus, who was currently fucking your hole with his tongue. you whined at the sensation, eyes trained on sejanus, whoâs lips were curved into a grin at the sight of your fucked-out face.
âcoryo,â you whimpered, moving away from him.
as much as you were enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your cunt, the position was uncomfortable. you turned around to face him, and forced him down against the couch, hovering over him teasingly.
âiâm going to sit on your face, and you can finish what youâre doing,â you commanded, watching as coriolanus gripped your thighs, dragging you down so you could perch your cunt upon his face.
âi canât believe heâs letting you boss him around,â sejanus laughed, surprised that his friend had surrendered his usual dominance to you of all people.
âmhm, well heâll get to tell me what to do once he can make me cum,â you remarked, groaning as his tongue worked effortlessly at your clit.
sejanus came to sit on the other side of you, not wanting to miss out on all the fun. you leaned in to him, your noses brushing as you let out another gasp as coriolanusâ tongue pressed against your sensitive nub, lips suckling in an attempt to bring you to your pleasure.
sejanusâ lips were soft against yours, and you moaned into the kiss, too far gone with the pressure of coriolanusâ skilled tongue against your dripping folds. he wrapped his hands around your neck, fingers catching in your hair, pulling you closer. you opened your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.
you were so desperate, at the same time grinding against coriolanusâ mouth, feeling yourself unfurl beneath him. heat burned at your core, the tight knot in your stomach forming. coriolanusâ cock was hard again as he felt your juices coat his lips, wanting nothing more than to bury himself deep inside of you.
moaning into sejanusâ mouth, you clenched your thighs and felt yourself come undone, skin dancing with the fire of your want. you wondered if coriolanus was suffocating between your thighs, but he continued to lick at you as if you were his last meal, lapping up all the delicious slick that you dripped onto his tongue.
âso good,â you gasped into sejanusâ mouth, his fingers tickling the nape of your neck.
you pulled yourself off of coriolanus, whoâs lips were wet with your juices, and you felt your core tingle again. he looked so hot, drunk on your pussy, blue eyes wide with a hunger to have you all to himself.
sejanus and you parted for a moment, watching as coriolanus grabbed at your naked form, his hard cock pressing into your back. you let out a sigh, rubbing your ass against his cock, and he cast a pleading look.
âwanna fuck you now,â he begged, a little pathetic.
sejanus coughed, reminding coriolanus that he had to share you, after all, you had more than one hole. it would be cruel to deny them their pleasure.
âiâm sure you boys can decide who gets what,â you drawled, letting coriolanus pull you into his lap.
both boys were silent for a moment, debating with one another through their eyes; coriolanusâ boner pressing into you, a reminder of just how much he needed you. he wanted you to be his, but sharing you with sejanus was only fair, especially when youâd been so insistent.
âcoryo?â sejanus quirked a brow.
coriolanus pursed his lips, growing increasingly aware of the way your ass ground against his cock. he didnât know how much longer he could take it, or if heâd finish without even being inside of you.
'should i fuck you in the ass, hm?' coriolanus murmured in your ear. your cheeks burned, but you nodded hazily, too distracted by the thought of both of them inside of you.
'sej? does that suit you?' you asked, lips pursing as you felt your core begin to soak with heat again.
he didn't know what to say, words caught in his throat like dirt. of course it suited him. he had dreamed of a time like this, burying himself deep inside of your cunt, watching you moan his name...
'yeah, 'course,' he managed to utter, and you cast a soft smile.
sejanus laid back against the couch, and you left a pouting coriolanus to clamber onto sejanus' lap, straddling him. coriolanus watched as you wrapped your hand around sejanus' cock and stroked him a few times, thumbing the precum on his tip. when you decided he was wet enough, you lowered yourself around him, gasping as his thick cock stretched out your walls.
coriolanus gripped at your waist from behind, stroking the small of your back with his ringed hands. he'd pulled down his sweatpants, and his cock, long and throbbing, was pressing right against your ass. you moved up and down on sejanus, hands stroking the smooth expanse of his toned chest, watching as he moaned as you clenched around him.
'so good,' sejanus sighed as the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoed across the room.
struck with jealousy, coriolanus barely gave you warning as he pressed himself inside your other hole. you gasped, brows knitting together at the slight discomfort of his long length shoving inside of you.
âis she tight, sej?â coriolanus asked, groaning as he began to buck into your hole.
your head swam with overstimulation, core burning as they both filled you with their cocks. you couldnât help but gasp as you rode sejanus, feeling coriolanusâ cock pressing against a particularly tight spot in your hole. you were in a daze.
âso tight,â sejanus mused, gripping at your hips, attempting to bury himself fully inside of you.
âitâs too much,â you murmured, already completely fucked-out on their cocks.
coriolanusâ cock throbbed as he felt your hole squeezing around his cock, clenching as sejanus stretched your pussy. he didnât know how much more he could take, his balls aching to shoot their load into you. he thought of you being filled with both of their cum, watching the pearly stuff dripping out of your cunt and ass. that sent his head into a spin.
âfucking hell!â coriolanus grunted, sound of his balls slapping against your mingling with that of your wet cunt against sejanusâ cock.
âsheâs so good, isnât she?â sejanus mewled, his thighs trembling a little beneath you.
âtaking us so well,â coriolanus said, breath hot against your ear. the feeling of the hot air sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel yourself being pushed over the edge.
âgonnaâŠâ you huffed, a little exhausted. âcum.â
the boys laughed, watching as you fucked yourself dumbly on their cocks, groaning and sighing with delight as you came undone, cunt gushing with wetness. sejanus moaned at the feeling of your slickness coating his cock, a milky ring forming round the base as your pussy slipped on and off his shaft.
âsuch a slut, fucking yourself stupid on our cocks, huh?â coriolanus cajoled, fastening his pace.
he tugged on your hair when you didnât respond, and you let out a cry, feeling the stinging feeling of your hair strands standing on the ends of your scalp.
âyou gonna answer me? or have we fucked you so good that you canât answer,â coriolanus shook his head. âsuch a little whore.â
you moaned as you felt sejanus tremble beneath you, spilling his load inside your cunt. he whimpered a little as he came, cheeks burning and red with abashed innocence. youâd just felt so good, the way your wet walls clenched around him, taking him so well.
âgod,â sejanus mumbled, continuing to thrust lazily into your pussy as his cum trickled out.
âoh sej,â you giggled, pressing a kiss to one of his reddened cheeks. he looked so sweet, big brown eyes welling with a bashful expression.
âcouldnât help myself, youâre just so good,â he mused, grunting as you changed position, sliding off his cock so your ass was pressed pertly against coriolanusâ cock.
âwant you to cum in my pussy too, coryo,â you murmured, turning back to glance at him.
he frowned, but he couldnât say no to the offer. he pulled his cock from your ass, throbbing and red; and a small groan played upon his lips as the pleasure ceased for a second. you both moaned as he slid into your wet, cum-soaked cunt, and he gripped at your hips.
feeling extra teasing, you reached down to grab at sejanusâ now flaccid cock, watching as his hips writhed at the excess stimulation. his eyes were stretched into a look of wide-eyed plea, but the sounds that were stumbling from his lips suggested he was yearning for it.
âplease, too much,â he uttered, but his cock came to attention again, hardening as you ran your hands up and down.
coriolanus was close, clutching at your hips so hard you could feel the bruises forming. he loved the way your skin turned red between his fingers as he pounded you, another way he was making you his. your wetness, mixed with the feeling of sejanusâ cum, made his own release threaten to occur.
âgonna fill you up, hm? such a slut, being filled with both our cum, taking it so well,â coriolanus grunted against your ear as he pounded into you.
sejanus whimpered as you squeezed at his tip, hips thrusting helplessly, and a moan escaped your own lips as coriolanus gave a final, rough buck into your used cunt. he felt spurts of hot, sticky cum paint your walls, dripping down his aching cock.
coriolanus fucked the cum back into you, watching with an impish grin as your cunt sucked in his load; his cock was dripping with it too, and he felt turned on wondering whether it was his or sejanusâ that was costing him. either way, you were theirâs now.
âso much for strip poker,â you laughed, breath heavy with exhaustion.
sweat beaded all of your skin, your breasts glistening beneath the ambient light of the room. you cast your eyes to the cards and chips strewn across the coffee table; your clothes tossed carelessly on the floor. your head swum with the heady excess of your bliss, and you sighed.
âwell, iâm not going to say no to another round,â coriolanus murmured, causing the three of you to give an exasperated laugh. you wondered if youâd ever look at strip poker the same way again. probably not.
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