#the fingertips just under the tank 🥺

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap nine/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Ask Me What I’m Thinking About

summary: Baseball can be a dirty game.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: 18+ some drinking, semi public fooling around (in a skybox), steve gets a little too worked up teaching you the rules of the game😏 (slight daddy kink)

authors note: I can’t believe we’re at the second to last chapter 🥺 thank you to everyone who’s been reading and all your sweet words this whole series, you guys really are the best 🧡

🌇 <- chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

The kiss lingered on your lips for days after the Fourth of July. A week at work lost in daydreams about the man that tasted like lemonade and stole your breath under fireworks at the lake. Fingertips trace the places graced by his lips to try and keep the feel of them fresh in your mind, impatiently counting down the days till you see him again.

You tug at the bottom hem of your sundress standing at Steve’s front door. It’s shorter than you’re used to, and the shade of red it was could never be found in your wardrobe until earlier this week. You’d fallen victim to an after work shopping trip with a coworker who had persuasive opinions that had you feeling confident when you looked in the long mirror of the fitting room. Her words ringing in your head like a mantra as you take a deep breath before knocking. Somersaults and cartwheels in your stomach, you wonder if it will always feel like the first time.

Bandit’s loud bark makes your cheeks push up in the kind of smile you usually only give to Steve. The sound of  long nails scraping excitedly on the other side of the door followed by his owner's deep bellow of his name only make it grow more. Butterflies take flight when you hear the click of the lock, another tug and a second deep breath.

“Bandit stop- Hey - oh wow, baby.” Standing there with the door half open, Steve drinks you in with hungry eyes. They roam up the expanse of your thighs, licking his lips when he sees how dangerous a strong breeze can be. “You look - wow, you look beautiful.”

It feels like summer heat on your cheeks, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you try not to beam. Maybe Jenny from work was right. Your eyes are just as greedy as his when you notice the tight fit of his jeans, and the white cubs jersey with the top two buttons undone. It makes his tan darker, along with the crisp tank top underneath. The silver chain around his neck catches in the sun from its place of the soft patch of chest hair that you’re realizing is always on display. His feet are bare and it makes you shift from side to side like it’s  something intimate.

“You look very easy on the eyes yourself Mr. Harrington.” You giggle and it makes him blush a furious red all the way to the tips of his ears.

Bandit whines impatiently behind Steve, his nails tapping against the wood floor. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. She’s coming in, calm down.” He opens the door a little more, turning around with one hand on the handle to usher the dog back to let you in. Your eyes catch his last name patched onto the back of his jersey like it's official. The realization that it probably is intimidates you.

It almost smells like the last time you were here, the rich cedar undertones are met with a hint of Bandit when you cross the threshold. He gives you a loud excited bark for good measure before his owner cuts him loose, shutting the door behind you. Steve doesn’t even try to stop him from jumping when you welcome him with open arms and a high pitched “hiii, handsome!”

Steve rolls his eyes dramatically when Bandit whines licking your face, but the smile he can’t fight gives him away.

“Alright, that’s enough. I didn’t even get my kiss yet buddy.” Steve chuckles, snapping his fingers making Bandit fall back on all fours in a huff.

I didn’t even get my kiss yet.

The words make your breath catch in your throat, Steve was going to kiss you again. He was just going to do that now, whenever he wants, and you’re gonna let him.

“Gettin’ jealous or somethin’ Steve?” You tease trying to hide the way he sets your skin on fire when his darkened eyes look at you like that.

“What if I am?” His voice drops to something new, something dirtier and it makes your thighs clench. 

One of his hands finds its way to where your dress sinches and smooths out at your waist, while the other rests against the wood behind you. He takes the few steps that have your back pressing against the door, fingers squeezing softly at your side before he reaches up to cup your cheek in the warmth of his palm. Looking down over the sharp line of his nose, the pad of his thumb traces the sticky silk of your glossed bottom lip. He wonders what flavor it is today, he can’t wait to find out.

“I’d tell you to do something about it then.” It’s a little shy the way it comes out just above a whisper, meeting his gaze from under your lashes.

His nose brushes with yours, the mint from his toothpaste fanning cool against your cheeks. Needy fingers find their way to his belt loops giving him a gentle tug closer and it makes him grin, you let his lips be a phantom against yours, impatience winning when you pull him in. 

It’s gentle at first and it feels like fireworks at the lake, like the butterflies from your first date. It’s when your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck that he presses his weight against you. His thumb pulls at your chin begging you to open up for him while his knee pushes its way between your legs. A week of being kept apart with nothing but thoughts of this has your tongues meeting greedy in the middle when you get lost in it. Spoiled with it. Noses press against cheeks and he can taste the tangerine that coats your lips in a sticky sweet mess. 

He groans when you bite at his bottom lip, thick eyebrows marrying in the middle when he kisses you harder, his knee getting a little bolder, getting closer. He can feel the heat that radiates from between your thighs like this and he curses at how short your dress is. Were you trying to kill him? Irrational jealousy pangs in his chest at all the guys that’ll get to look at you like this today. Guys your age. 

Bandit barks at something he sees outside making you both jump apart. Even with kiss bitten lips and a little dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you already miss him. He laughs quietly, pressing his forehead with yours the golden specs in his mossy eyes gleam feeling like a teenager again. All he wants to do is kiss you.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all week if I’m being honest.” Steve confesses, long fingers finding yours, lacing them together like he needs you.

“I was terrible at my job this week, and it was definitely your fault.” You grin looking up at him like you love it.

The two of you stand there for a minute letting your eyes take in features that had started to soften in your memories. He smiles before bumping his nose with yours one more time, stealing a quick peck pulling away before you have a chance to kiss back smirking at your small pout.

“Let me get my shoes on and we’ll get out of here. We’ll get some dogs at Wrigley.” Steve calls over his shoulder, ruffling Bandit’s head on his way up the stairs.

“Dogs?” You snort under your breath so he can’t hear, your fingers finding their way back to Bandits fur scratching him behind his ears. You swear he’s smiling when he pants looking up at you with big friendly eyes.

You gaze towards his kitchen as you try to catch the breath he took with him up to his room, the memory of your almost first kiss feels like a lifetime ago. It’s not long before Bandit takes advantage of Steve’s absence, snorting playfully before he trots to the living room. Long nails click against the wood floors when he comes back making your heart swell when the stupid dancing banana you won at the block party sits in his mouth. Its stitched eye is already half gone, and an arm just barely hanging on.

“This your banana, cute guy?” You coo with a sweet smile, reaching out to accept his invitation to play tug of war with the plush toy.

You’re a mess of giggles when he starts ‘growling’ at you and trying to rip it from your grasp, pulling you forward every so often when he pushes back on his paws for an extra hard tug. Too lost in your own world, you don’t notice Steve watching from the top of the staircase. The necklace he bought last week burns a hole in his pocket, especially seeing you like this. He knows he’s already in love and it makes him want to laugh. Classic Steve. The hushed conversation he had with Eddie on the phone in his room lights a fire inside him. 

“It’s a necklace, it’s not a ring Steve. I stopped waiting around for the ‘right’ time and now I’m tryna start a family with the love of my life. What sign are you looking for, big guy? She’s seen your darkest parts and she’s downstairs waiting for you.”

You looked too pretty in that dress not to be his.

You finally get the toy away from Bandit, throwing it far enough for his paws to slide in place for a second before he takes off after it. Too busy laughing at the way he shakes the toy from side to side when he finally gets it between his teeth, you don’t hear Steve come up behind you. The fresh spice of his cologne hitting your nose gives him away first, the big hands that grab at your waist to pull you against his chest, the second.

“Missed me?” He teases, pressing a kiss behind your ear that makes you shiver. He likes that he can do that.

“Not really, I was having a pretty good time with Bandit actually.” He can’t see your shit eating grin, but he knows it's there.

“Not even a little bit?” He presses with a smirk in his voice, his lips ghosting against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can’t help but tilt your head, giving him more to kiss. 

“Maybe,” You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, lashes fluttering when there’s a gentle nip at the dip of your neck. “Maybe a little bit.”

Steve smiles against your skin, humming in approval at your admission keeping you close for a few more minutes, and you realize you’d be more than happy to just do this the rest of the day. 

“Before we head out, I uh - “ He clears his throat, going a little stiff against your back as he starts digging in his pocket, “I got you something.”

You feel the way his hands shake, and it makes you want to turn around but the grip on your hip only tightens to keep you in place. 

“It’s easier to give it to you like this.” He mumbles, giving you a reassuring squeeze, your heart thumps wildly in your chest. 

“Steve what are you -“ Your sentence dies on your tongue when you feel something dainty and cold wrap around your neck. Your fingers reach up instinctively and the tips of them meet the smoothness of a stone that dangles at the end of it. The necklace.

“I couldn’t help myself, I hope it’s o - you just said you liked it and -“ Steve’s a mess of nerves behind you while you look down, fingers toying with the stone, awestruck at the gesture.  “If you think it’s weird I can -“

Turning around you cut him off with your lips, tangerine gloss in the form of appreciation makes him smile into the kiss. You keep it short this time, pulling away no matter how much your body screams for more. You start to think you’ll never have enough. Is this what it’s like to be in love?

“Steve, I love it” You whisper rolling back on your heels, your fingers already obsessed with touching the stone as you look up at him through your lashes. “Thank you.” 

His cheeks turn to cherry blossoms, all the tense muscles in his shoulders relaxing, Eddie was right.

“Yeah?” He wants to hear you say it again, and he can tell by your grin and the glint in your eyes that you know he does too.

“Absolutely, I’m probably never going to take it off.” You giggle looking down in admiration again and it makes Steve feel like a million bucks. He never wants you to take it off either.

Steve doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand as you walk up to the main gates of Wrigley Field, fingers intertwining like he doesn’t want to let go when he shows the security guard his work badge and you suppress the urge to grab it from him when you make it inside. The urge to see the picture lessened knowing that the chances of it actually being bad were slim to none.

The stadium is intimidating when it’s empty, your mind reeling when you think of what it’s going to be like in an hour when the stands are filled with screaming fans. Concession stand workers bustle around the two of you in preparation for the onslaught of sports goers. Summer hangs heavy in the air with the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky. It smells of fresh cut grass, pop corn, and hot dogs. The perfect day for a baseball game.

Your eyes grow wide when they land on the bright green field that looks even bigger than on TV, it’s the kind of green you know can’t be real with crisp white lines that lead to each of the bases. There’s a few players out practicing, they wave at Steve when they notice him. His fingers squeeze yours tighter when one of them smiles a little too friendly in your direction. The memory of you in his car on the way here admiring the necklace in the visor keeps his jealousy at bay. You were his.

“You gonna give me the grand tour or somethin’?” You ask with eyes unable to focus on anything in particular, still mesmerized by how big it all was while the two of you head in a pointed direction.

“Just grabbing something out of my office for Richard, and then I’ll show you around.” Steve winks and the gesture makes your knees weak. 

“Ooo I get to see your office?” You grin, bumping shoulders. It makes his cheeks push up.

“It’s nothin’ special, baby.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand, fingers curling around your hips to pull you into his side instead. Your heart skips a beat, looping your arms around his waist, still not used to his affection coming so effortlessly like he’s been doing this his whole life with you. 

It feels like a maze while he leads you through the stadium, twists and turns down long back hallways, tight lipped greetings every time someone walks by throwing him a ‘Steve’ with a nod of their head. Their curious eyes always land on you tucked under his arm. Who is that? Your palms sweat at the thought of how Steve was going to introduce you. The gift around your neck makes your mind wander.

It’s when you get to an elevator that you decide there’s definitely no way you’d be able to find your way out of here alone. More than confused when the back of it is all windows overlooking the opposite side of the field you had come in from. Steve laughs from behind you as if he can read your mind, big hands finding their way to the metal bar, caging you in with your back against his chest.

It takes you to the very top with a loud ding before it drops a little and the metal doors slide open. He doesn’t let you get too far before he takes your hand again to lead you down a hallway. The white walls are lined with awards, plaques, and framed Sports Illustrated covers filled with faces of different baseball players, some you recognize and some you don’t, as you make your way to the very end. You try not to make eye contact with the few men who have their doors crack half way open.

“Just gotta find the plans for next season really quick, then we’ll go see Eddie’s guy Antonio. If I don’t buy hot dogs from him specifically, I’ll never hear the end of it.” Steve rolls his eyes at the last part but you catch the hint of a smirk playing at the edges of his lips as he unlocks his office door, pushing it open to let you in.

“I’m startin’ to think Eddie might be your boyfriend. Were you talkin’ to him in your room earlier? Does Peach know?” You tease looking up at him as you brush past, and you’re not surprised when the smell of cedar hits your nose again. The faint hint of cigar smoke creeping in underneath. Of course his office smells like him. 

Steve’s eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink when he realizes he wasn’t as quiet on the phone as he thought.

“I was just - I was just following up with him on something about my trip out there in a few days.” He stammers, making you giggle. You try not to think about the news of him leaving again so soon.

“Yeah, whatever you say, handsome.” You grin and it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you, the whites of his teeth showing in spite of himself.

“Ha ha, very funny.” He dead pans before making his way around his desk that just looks like a bigger version of the one in his house. An actual desktop replaces the sleek laptop. He clicks the mouse harshly before his long fingers work the keyboard.

It’s hard to tear your attention away from him but your curiosity gets the best of you. His office is huge, you think. Maybe the size of your whole apartment kinda huge, and it's just as nice as you thought it would be.

A giant window that overlooks the entire field takes up one whole wall, walking over you realize you’re so far back that it makes the grown men out there look small. Your chest tightens when you see how high up you are. The rest of the walls are decorated with similar pictures like his office at home, group shots of work retreats, team building dinners, shaking hands with people you’re sure are important in the sports world and he looks handsome in all of them. 

There’s a baseball bat propped in the corner, and the image of him on his bluetooth swinging it around in his office while making a deal, makes a home inside your head and the dough of your thighs press. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, he’s too lost in whatever he’s searching for in his emails to notice the smirk on your face, his bright eyes squinting at the screen.

It’s heavier than expected when you grab it, the weight of it making it feel like a weapon in your hands. You do your best to remember what you’ve seen a few times on TV as you try to grip it how a real player would, before giving it a sloppy swing, your wrists almost giving out on the curve.

“Honey, you’re holding it all wrong.” You can hear the way he tries to suppress his laugh, the sound of his shoes hitting the carpet telling you he’s coming to assist. 

“Oh yeah, Mr. Big League?” Regripping the wood again, you try your best to ignore him when he stops behind you, determined to do it without him.

“These nicknames, you need to stop. They aren’t very good.” He snorts, referring to the previous classic ‘Mr. Sports’. 

That’s when he gets it. The first eye roll of the date. He thinks the first is always his favorite. 

“I think it was the nicknames that got me the second date.” Grinning like an idiot you take another terrible swing.

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna break your wrist.” The laugh he was trying to hide earlier comes out when his arms wrap around you from behind, big hands over yours holding the bat steady and it makes you forget how to breathe for a second.

Steve’s arms cage you in and it feels like he’s everywhere. The mint on his breath still smells fresh when the side of his face presses against the top of your head, hot breath fanning across your cheek. The muscles in his stomach twitch against your back, while the ones in his arms tense, squeezing you close as his fingers move over yours helping you tighten your hold. You can barely see your hand underneath his and your stomach flips at the sight. 

He’s talking but you can’t focus on the words he’s saying, not when you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs from the corner of your eye. The stubble on his jaw rubs against your temple as he tries to explain the proper stance on deaf ears. Pine form his body wash lingers on his skin, he overwhelms your senses but all you want is more. You can feel it in the way your body leans into him, the curve of your ass shameless against his denim.

“Okay, so that’s the grip. Now your stance, it’s all wrong.” His mouth is closer to your ear, lips ghosting along the shell of it demanding your attention. It’s as if he knows he doesn’t have any of it and all of it at once and you swear he gets closer, a subtle grind of his own hips in response to yours.

“I’m listening,” you say breathlessly. It gives you away, making his lips curve up into a smirk.

“I’m sure you are, baby.” The tip of his nose nudges behind your ear, while his fingers make a path down your arms, the pads of them dragging gently against your heated skin, callouses leaving goosebumps after them. Your breath catches before they curve around your sides, squeezing at where the dip of your hips meets the top of your thighs.

“Now, you wanna push back your hips a little.” His strong hold moves your body with ease, making your ass press hard against him and you feel that part of his body for the first time. His heart is beating so fast you can feel it. Thump, thump, thump.

“Like this?” you ask, innocence dripping from your tone. When you grind against him with more pressure you can feel just how big he really is – especially as his jeans begin to tighten. 

“Fuck - baby.” It comes out a little desperate, like he’s warning you but his hold only tightens keeping you in place. “Yeah, just like that.”

It’s his hips that roll this time, and it makes your eyes hit the back of your head. Your fingers threaten to come loose around the bat, too distracted by the man behind you. Especially when his lips ghost a path up the side of your neck, hot and wet.

“I think it’d be easier if I could have something to lean on, you know? I just really wanna teach you right.” He nips at your earlobe and it makes you shiver, pressing yourself back against him hard enough to feel the zipper of his jeans between the fat of your ass cheeks.

“You’re the professional, who am I to say no to you?” You knew you were laying it on thick, but the groan it earns makes you swallow your pride with a press of your thighs.

You squeal when he yanks you back, dropping the baseball bat to the ground with a low thud. Your giggles fill the usually quiet office and he wishes he could have you here all the time. He takes a couple long strides backwards before he hits the front of his desk, pulling you onto his lap as he sits on top of it. His hands get greedy when they reach around to grab at the tops of your thighs, the material of your dress bunching up underneath them, revealing more new skin to him. He wonders if you can feel just how hard you already have him.

“Despite not watching, like, any sports, something tells me this can’t be right, Steve.” You smirk, another giggle slipping out when you feel his smile against your neck.

“Like you would know.” He scoffs, his hands find their way back to your hips, encouraging another roll from them. The little gasp he earns makes him twitch in his pants. “Yeah?”

You nod with a ‘mmhmm’, eyes closing when he does it again. Tangerine on your tongue when you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, your hands finding a home on the tops of his thighs. You grind against him like you mean it, like you’re not playing along with whatever game this was before. 

“God, - shit, baby, this dress. This fuckin’ dress. Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” His lips get sloppy on your neck, tongue and teeth nipping on sensitive stubble rubbed skin. 

Knock, knock, knock 

You both jump at the same time, hearts hammering in your chests. The feeling of being close still makes your body buzz at high frequencies as you try to recover from the last five minutes. 

“Steve?” The familiar voice is muffled behind the closed door. 

You watch Steve readjust his pants to try and hide the obvious, a nervous hand running through his hair before he answers. You make him feel like a fucking teenager.

“Hey Richard,” The husk from Steve’s voice is gone as he looks at you to make sure you’re ready for company.

Tugging the hem of your dress down, you pull the straps back onto your shoulders giving him a quick nod, cheeks burning and underwear a mess. 

“Come on in.”

Richard strikes again.

Steve takes one last look at you, dark eyes that eat you alive while his tongue rolls in against the inside of his cheek. Eyebrows marry together in a mixture of annoyance and lust when he realizes just how close he’d gotten to everything he wants. 

The door creaks and it wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t so quiet. A tentative Richard  steps into the room, brown eyes looking back and forth and you wonder if he can tell he interrupted something. You try to control your breathing, turning towards the window after you give him a friendly smile to try and hide the way your chest heaves.

You hate Richard.

“So we meet again.” He jokes trying to break the ice. Yeah, he knows.

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile pushing himself off the desk with another hand through his hair, the soft thuds of his shoes filling the beat of silence as he walks back behind his desk.

“I was just finishing printing out those spreadsheets for you.” Steve clears his throat and it makes your lips twitch, your eyes getting lost in the green field below you. 

You can’t bring yourself to face his boss like this, again.

“Great! I’ll take them now. I was just coming up here to see if you and your lady were coming to the pre-game drinks at The Barrel Room downstairs, some of the guys wanna run some things by you.” You can hear Richard scratch the back of his neck when Steve doesn’t answer immediately.

Steve wants you alone. Now.

“You know I hate to mix business with games, but they really wanna meet the guy behind the marketing.” He adds, telling Steve it’s really not an option to say anything other than ‘yes’.

“Sure, sure. The game doesn’t start for another hour anyway.” Steve gives, and you meet his eyes from over your shoulder with a small smile that says it’s okay.

Despite the no smoking sign, the smell of cigars linger on most of the men in the members only bar under the field. Your summer dress feels out of place in a room full of business men dressed in their expensive casual attire. Their expensive cologne mixes with the sting of whiskey that’s over a sphere of ice in most of their glasses. Lit by a dimmed chandelier, small TV’s line the space over the bar with live feeds of the field and ESPN. The nicest sports bar you’ve ever seen.

Steve keeps a tight hold on your hand when he orders you both glasses of champagne and a bottle to be delivered to the suite, winking at you when he picks the sweet option.  

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t think I’d be doing anything for work today.” He lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you to his side. His soft lips kiss your temple as a second apology.

“It’s fine, it’s actually kinda hot seeing you like this.” Looking up at him from under your lashes, you love the way it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Oh yeah?” He grins, the green in his eyes threaten to turn black when his hand slides a little lower, the tips of his fingers touching just above the curve of your ass. They twitch with the urge to squeeze. 

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, just for him to hear, dripping honey like in his office. You turn your  body towards him, pressing yourself closer with a palm running up his chest, fingers playing with buttons when you bite your bottom lip into a smile.

The low groan you get vibrates from his chest, his hand daring to go a little lower, pulling you even closer.

Clink, clink

The bartender slides the two flutes over, popping you both out of your bubble right as someone clears their throat behind you.

“Steve, they're over there in the corner. They just need maybe ten minutes of your time and then I’ll get out of your hair.” Richard’s voice breaks you two apart but Steve still keeps a hand on the small of your back as he hands your glass over, the popping and fizzing of the bubbles inside making it shimmer rose gold in the low light. 

“Sure, I’ll follow you.” He takes a sip before bringing his eyes back to yours, the blunt ends of his nails scratch lightly against your back, giving you his undivided attention. “You gonna be okay for a little bit?” 

“I’m a big girl, handsome.” You smirk around the edge of your glass, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when he looks at you like that.

“I know you are, baby.” The smile that takes over his face knocks the air out of your lungs. Steve presses a kiss to your forehead before he follows Richard to the two men across the room who are looking eager to meet the man you can’t get enough of.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and another glass of champagne, your eyes meeting Steve’s every so often across the room in a silent apology. This second glass is enough to make your skin come alive, fingertips buzzing and nerves melting. The bubbles tickle your lips when you take another sip, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder at the same time. 

Licking your lips, the sweetness of your gloss mixes perfectly with the fruity hints of the champagne and it makes you give a quiet ‘mmm!’ when it hits your taste buds. Setting your drink down, you can feel him staring as you fix your dress. Your fingers wrap around the soft material, and you dare to meet his eyes again. The green forest you’re so used to getting lost in is replaced by the kind of darkness you’ve only seen in the night sky, the kind where the moon hides the stars in its depths. The men surrounding him are talking but he’s not paying attention, his sole focus is on you.

The two glasses of champagne makes you feel bold. Holding his stare, you move slowly when you pull it back to its home on the top of your shoulder. Soft fingertips drag across your skin, leaving the kind of goosebumps he usually gets and it makes his jaw clench. He needed to get out of here. 

He knocks back the rest of his glass, saying something to the men that have stolen enough of his time from you. He finally excuses himself with a few strong handshakes and that million dollar smile. The one that always makes your thighs press. Running a hand through his hair as he pushes through the crowded bar, his eyes stay locked on yours, heavy lidded and hungry and it makes your stomach do flips.

“Ready to pay attention to me?” You pretend to pout when you turn around to face him. When you lean back on your elbows he can’t help but take in everything you’re offering him. 

Big hands grab at your waist, pulling you against his chest. He’s got a lopsided salt and pepper grin when he dips his head down to skim his nose along your jaw before his lips stop right at your ear. They twitch when he feels the way it makes you shiver.

“More than you know, baby.”

The suite is somehow even nicer than you’d imagined it’d be, the kind of nice that makes you giggle when you take it all in. Flat screen TV’s hang from two separate places on the exposed brick walls. The bottle of champagne he’d ordered earlier sits chilled in a bucket on the marble countertop in the small kitchen with two glasses. The stainless steel fridge that you’re sure is fully stocked shines in the bright, low hanging lights. 

The open concept leads to a living room area, a dark gray leather couch sitting in the middle looking way too comfortable for something like this. It faces a giant window that overlooks first base, high enough in the stadium for no one to be around you and gives out to a balcony with four seats to watch the game outside. 

“Jesus Christ.” You laugh wandering around the new space, fingertips touching the cool leather of the couch as you look at one of the TV’s that hang over it. A crystal clear image of the game getting ready to start just outside. The empty stands were completely filled while you were busy in the boys club downstairs. 

“Yeah, it’s a little ridiculous.” Steve chuckles, the loud pop of the champagne being opened echoes in the big space. “I never watch games in the suites. Me and Ed are always in the stands. I was actually a little surprised when Richard offered it.”

Maybe Richard wasn’t that bad.

You can hear the way the bubbles fizz when he pours you each a glass, neither of you speaking. The realization you were finally alone hangs thick in the air. No more interruptions. The crowd cheers outside when the announcer booms through the speakers that line the outside of the field. The sounds of the game starting cuts through the tension like a knife. Steve clears his throat behind you, making you jump a little. 

“Sorry, honey,” He smiles, trying not to laugh as he hands you a glass.

“Champagne and hot dogs? Steve, I think you’re trying to get me to fall in love with you,” you say,  a part of you that feels like it’s already too late. You are in love with him.

“I still can’t believe you asked Antonio for ketchup, shoulda taken a picture of his face.” Steve snorts, cheeks turning pink at your words. 

“Normal people eat their hot dogs with ketchup, Steve. I’ll ask for ketchup at every hot dog establishment in this city. I don’t care.” You roll your eyes at him for the second time today, and he thinks he’ll get a lot more of those by the end of the night as you keep sipping your sweet drink. 

“I’ll make sure not to be there when you do.” Steve winks smiling over the edge of his glass and it makes you just as flustered as the first time.

“Whatever, it’s a stupid.” You mumble turning back towards the window because looking at him was becoming too much you– fingers twitching to touch him, your lips pouting just to kiss him.

You set your drink down on the coffee table, the buzz from before coming back when the alcohol breaks through the food you had on your way up here. The nerves in your stomach become a mess as you walk up to the thick glass. The game he was supposed to teach you was already in full swing below. The tight baseball uniforms have you imagining what Steve would’ve looked like iand the thought is enough to make the softness of your thighs meet. 

Steve sets his glass down next to yours, licking his lips as he gets to take in the way your dress wraps around your curves. You can feel the heat of his stare on you and it makes you shiver, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You try to focus on the game and not the way he comes up behind you. He smells like whiskey and summer, the fruity notes from the champagne coming out in the breath that fans down your neck in a mixture of Steve.

“Speaking of rules.” The husk in his voice is back, and the tip of his nose nudges behind your ear. He can’t see the way it makes your eyes hit the back of your head, but he can hear the way it makes your breath catch as his lips brush that sensitive spot on your neck. 

“Yeah, some teacher you are. The game, the-“ you stutter when his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing before they move down, long fingers spreading wide over your thighs. “The game’s already started.” You manage to breathe out, giving into him pulls you against him.

He’s already hard again, and he’s barely touched you. The feeling of your body, with only the thin material of your dress keeping his hands from what’s underneath, sends his brain into orbit, especially when he feels the slow grind of your hips searching for more.

“You actually gonna listen to me?” Steve asks with lips so close to your ear that it almost makes you whimper. All you can do is nod, and he relishes in the way your eyelids get heavy when he hums ‘hmm?’ to ask you again. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll listen.” You can’t find it yourself to care how you sound a little desperate.

One hand stays on the curve of your hip, while the tips of his fingers on the other trace over the goosebumps already blooming on the exposed skin of your thigh. They catch the bottom hem of your dress, dragging the soft material up with them. Wet lips leave sloppy kisses along your neck, smiling against the curve of it when he feels the way you spread for him, silently granting him permission. 

“So, the umpire is the guy crouched behind the hitter,” He whispers, as he keeps moving up at a pace so slow it almost makes you stomp your feet, tempted to throw a fit to make him touch you. “He keeps track of the pitches, the swings and misses. Three strikes, you’re always out.”

He reaches the lace edges of your panties, and it makes him twitch in his pants. How dare you?

“Fuck - baby.” He dips a finger underneath, tugging the material lightly before letting it snap back against your hip. “You wear these for me?”

“Maybe.”  You smirk, arching your back so your ass rubs against him in a way that makes his grip on your hip turn bruising. He exhales a deep breath through his nose to try and regain control.   

“Maybe?” He tsks while the hand under your dress gets bolder, the pads of his fingers brushing over the heat between your legs, groaning when he feels the way you’re already soaked through them. “This doesn’t feel like a maybe.” 

“I’m missing the game because -“ You gasp when he dares to push them to the side, a thick middle finger swiping through your folds, moaning at how you feel like silk.. 

“Because?” He practically purrs as he circles your bundle of nerves with a pointed pressure, like he already knows just what to do to make you fall apart.

He feels even bigger pressing hard against your ass like this. Your hips roll to meet the motions of his finger, offering him a little relief when his hips meet yours at the same pace. 

“You’re -you’re not teaching me.” Your jaw goes slack when another finger starts circling your entrance, lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

“Well, you’re not looking.” He’s smug, especially when he dares to push the tip of his finger in just enough to stretch you out, earning a gasp.

The crack of the bat meeting the ball makes your eyes snap open. The loud cheer of the crowd is enough to make the ground shake underneath you. Steve uses the distraction as his opening to slide the first two knuckles of his finger inside you. Your hand comes down to wrap around his wrist, a small whine escaping you when he pushes it all the way in. He braces himself against the window when your hips start to roll, helping him work you open. Every movement of his hand brings you closer against him to meet in the best kind of friction. 

“See, your eyes are closed, honey.” You can feel his grin when he nips at your jaw, the middle finger on your clit being replaced with the pad of his thumb when he has it join in stretching you more for him. 

Opening your eyes is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, especially when he already has you feeling so full with just two of his fingers. They flutter open with every ounce of your strength you have left, and he hums in approval when he sees them again.

“Good girl.” His praise makes you clench around him and he’ll never forget it as he starts littering kisses along your shoulders, the strap of your dress falling down again. “Now he didn’t get a home run, but the bases are loaded. Do you know what that means?” 

The deep baritone in the way he’s talking to you makes it even easier for his fingers to keep up their pace, coating them in even more slick when it vibrates against your ear. 

“No- oohhh,” Moaning when his thumb adds the kind of pressure that threatens to make your knees buckle. He grinds himself against you with a little more force, never this close to cumming in his pants since high school.

He grunts, his cool facade breaking when you meet his hips, circling slow when you feel him push between your ass cheeks again. 

“It’s when the hitting team has a member - god, baby, you feel that? So fucking wet.” He pauses so he can hear the mess you're making of his hand. 

“There’s a player on every base, so if he can hit it far enough and they can all make it to home base, they’ll gain the lead -  You’re so damn tight.” Steve doesn’t know if he can even do what he’s asking of you anymore, too lost in the feeling of the velvet of your walls wrapped around his fingers and what it’s going to feel like when he finally gets to be inside of you.

All you do is nod, the coil in your stomach tightening in a way you’ve never felt before. Your grip on his wrist tightens, and the muscles tense as he keeps working you to the edge. The thrust of his hips against you becomes shameless as he chases his own end.

Another loud crack of a bat catches your attention, you can barely see the baseball as it soars far over the field. Bouncing off of the back wall when no one catches it, the players on their respective bases start making a run for it, making the crowd go wild.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty?” He asks leaving open mouth kisses anywhere he can reach, teeth nipping at sensitive skin while his fingers curl, the tips of them hitting the spot that makes you see white. Your eyes catch the silver around your neck in the reflection of the window and it's enough to make you give in.

“Ohmygod, Steve - fuck, yes, yes, daddy, yes.” 

He doesn’t know if it’s how your voice raises a pitch when you call him daddy or if it’s the way you reach behind him shamelessly trying to work him through his jeans, but it’s enough for his own body to go rigid. He moans loud enough to drown out the crowd, and you feel the warmth of his release under your palm. Your own washes over you hard enough to make your legs shake. You clench around his fingers that struggle to keep up their pace, but still relentless in their mission to keep you falling apart for him. You give him another squeeze through his pants and it makes him whine overstimulated against your neck.

The sound of the sports broadcasters vibrates from the speakers of the TV, signaling the switching of teams with the Cubs in the lead for the first inning. When Steve can finally see straight, the realization of what just happened makes his cheeks tinge the darkest shade of red. You made him cum his fucking pants. The day of touching and teasing took just as much of a toll on him as it did you. Your walls still flutter with every twitch of his fingers still buried inside of your heat, and he swears his dick threatens to get hard again.

He’s gentle when he pulls himself out of you, pressing soft kisses with sweet words against your cheek when you whimper a little at the feeling of being empty again.

“How’s my tough girl?” He whispers nose nudging your cheek as he puts your underwear back the way he found it, tugging down the bottom of your dress before turning you around to finally face him.

Your body still buzzes like a live wire, no one making you cum that hard from just their fingers before. The men your age always want to move so quickly. Steve’s eyes are still glazed over with a post orgasm glow, cheeks flushed, hair mused and all you wanted to do was kiss him.

“Feeling like an expert in baseball.” You giggle, and it makes him throw his head back giving you one of those deep bellied laughs you love so much.

You don’t wait anymore, pushing up on your toes -  your lips meet his in an explosion of things you want to say but can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t hesitate to meet with the same eagerness, pushing you up against the window with a big hand coming up to your cheek, his thumb coaxing you open with a pull on your chin.

That feeling stayed with you the rest of the day, the two of you attempting to watch the game in between kisses cuddled on the couch and teaching of rules that you claimed were stupid just to get him to scoff. It swelled in your chest the whole car ride home, your fingers fiddling with the stone dangling from your neck and his hand finding a home on the top of your thigh.

You almost let it spill when he walked you to your door, kissing you stupid in your narrow hallway despite the sticky thick humidity. He watches the way you silently battle with the urge to invite him in, and despite everything inside of him wanting to just get lost in you for the rest of the night, he couldn’t have you like that once and leave. So he keeps kissing you by your door until sweat drips from your pores and your dress gets rucked up to your hips again. Promising you his time when he gets back, eyes gleaming with sincerity with his forehead against yours.

Yeah, you were in love with Steve Harrington.

———————————————————————

beta’d by @chechelia thank you ily ♥️

dividers by @chechelia

🌇 -> chapter ten

[moonjxsung]

Okay you’ve been doing a lot of hard hours hard thoughts etc and I just want your opinion on Minho with a soft tummy instead of abs. Like. I feel like I’m the minority on this because 🥲 the few times we got a glimpse of his tummy it was soft and cute and 🥺 I like to think he doesn’t have abs but a soft baby tummy where you can lay your head and maybe poke it and place little kisses on it.

And maybe he’d be a little insecure about it the first time you have sex because most people just assume he has hard rock abs for some reason so he’s worried you’re going to be disappointed 🥺

Feel free to insert hard thoughts about this if you’d like because this just makes me too soft to think about anything other than fluff.

In other words SOFT TUMMY MINHO SUPREMACY

~🌷~

SOFT TUMMY MINHO SUPREMACY 🗣️‼️‼️🦅

It’s so funny you say this bc this specific photo:

Literally lives on my Pinterest home page RENT FREE and every time I see it I’m like yeah ofc he looks mouth watering and sexy as fuck but his tummy def looks SOOOO CUUUUTE under that tank top :( I feel like exactly the way he gets insecure about his scar he’d get insecure about his tummy and he would constantly be making jokes about how he really needs to start bench pressing more or doing sit ups bc his abs are nonexistent. And of course he’s still super toned but he’s not six pack, you know? And the first time you guys have sex he’s probably more insecure than you are bc he hates that he can’t flaunt some sculpted six pack for you and he plays it off by laughing a ton (his cute ass lil melodic giggle) and being all “stop, you’re gonna laugh at me!” When he removes his shirt and covers his torso. And it’s literally nothing to laugh at in the slightest, like it’s just a normal torso leaning toward muscular but he’s still so soft, all his delicate little curves and the way his chest rises and falls when he laughs and his stomach frames his collar bones sooo beautifully and he just looks SO ETHEREAL. And obviously the sex is fucking amazing and it’s always amazing but it’s particularly sexy when his stomach contracts while you’re on your knees sucking him off before he cums. Or the way his abs clench when you’re riding him and he’s desperately trying not to cum just yet and you make it even harder when you sprawl your fingers out over his stomach and glide your fingertips along his skin. It just becomes such a central part of your fucking sessions together like running your hands all over his stomach and paying attention to the way his stomach sucks in a little before he cums and it’s so sexy. Not to mention cute bc when you guys aren’t fucking you’re definitely showering him with kisses and tracing little hearts on his skin there. And sometimes cuddle sessions are exclusively your head on his stomach with his shirt rolled up so that you can lay on his bare flesh and press little kisses while he talks about his day :( and he doesn’t love his body but he acknowledges that it’s quickly become one of your favorite parts about him so he stops insulting himself so much bc why would he insult something you love :( soft tummy Minho cuddle sessions could heal me I just know it

[sweetdreamsbuck]

mir i am going absolutely insane over lumby bucky. i keep thinking about what it would be like to run your hands through his hair, kiss his forehead, and whisper a soft "i love you" and see him smile softly when he wraps his huge arms around you and squeezes you, even lifts you off the ground and spins you in a little circle to make you laugh 🥺

so funny that you sent this in because i'm currently almost done with a fic that is about playing with his hair and riling up a very needy lumby 😌

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

lumby is the most needy and protective boyfriend ever. his hands are always on you; whether stroking gently along your forearms or sitting comfortably on the exposed skin of your ankles while hanging out on a friend's couch; he likes to be near and touching you. he loves holding you in his lap, smoothing his hands over your arms and the pudge of your hips as you both snuggle under a big fluffy blanket and you tell him all about your day. lumby's considerate, attentive, passionate, and wildly dramatic in all of his affections to make sure you always feel him and his love. there is truly nothing that tank of a man would not do for his little bunny.

but his real favorite way to cuddle is laying right on top of you– his ginormous body snuggled in your arms flush against your chest, his face nestled in the bend of your neck. he absolutely adores the way you try and wrap your entire frame around his 6'4 brick-wall of a body. he craves the way you tease circles up and down his spine; the way your nose nudges his temple after you ask him a question and in his blissed-out stupor, he forgets to respond; the way you roam every inch of his broad back with your gentle fingertips before making your way up his neck and into his soft chestnut locks. he craves it.

he loves how much bigger he is than you, loves that this is one moment of his life where he can feel worry-free and protected by someone. you treat him with a gentle tenderness he never knew was his to have– and there's nothing in the world that could ever make him want to change that. especially not when you hum so sweetly into his hairline, your lips brushing softly against the crown of his head as your hands in his hair lull him drowsy. especially not when you pepper the most gentle kisses against his forehead, your soft lips easing all remaining tension and worry from him. especially not when you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, fingers scratching softly at his tense scalp, pressing your lips right above his eyebrow and your sweet voice whispers "I love you, baby"

his heart flutters giddily and his cheeks flush crimson, his arms wrapping themselves tighter around your middle as he hides his face in the hollow of your neck. you feel his boyish grin and lively chuckle before you hear it– pressed so sweetly against you– joy and love leaving your lumby's lips as he can't help himself but playfully bite the skin of your neck until you're as lightheaded and giggly as he is.

he cradles you in his arms and jumps from the couch, holding you close and twirling you around all the rooms of his cabin until you're both spinning, breathless, and squealing. 

feeling dizzy, you wordlessly pat against his chest and motion for the couch. his forearm cushions your head as he places you down, making sure you find your comfy spot against the cushions before the urge to squash you with his full body weight again grows too great. once some air has returned to your lungs, he climbs over you, swiftly caging you against the couch with nothing but love and that charming boyish gleam in his eye.

you wrap your arms around his back, pulling him up towards your neck– just where he likes to rest. his hand cups your face, thumb tracing over your cupid's bow and down to your jaw before kissing your lips. he gives in to the pressure of your hold, his body laying down and seeking out its favorite comfort in the safety of your arms. as your hands start to dance along his neck and scalp he presses a kiss to your pulse, nuzzling his nose against the space behind your ear. "i love you more than anything, bunny," he whispers.

you make him giddy and dazed and so enlivened– and he wouldn't change it for the world.

[pinkpastels113]

3am (i might be looking for a late night friend)

pairing: bechloe

rating: t

word count: 1.1k

additional tags: romance. kissing. light angst. pining.

summary:

from this relationship quote:

“I want to sit on a kitchen counter in my underwear at 3am with you and kiss the hell out of you.”

a/n:

yes i know it is five in the morning and yes i know i have a gajillion other things to write and yes i know everyone is waiting for their prompts to be written and yes i know sleep is very important but come on guys. this is such a perfect bechloe prompt! how could i not just give in to the temptation and inspiration to write it?

(anyways, let me know what you think. pleasee? 🥺)

read on ao3 or below!

Beca knows that they shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s three in the morning, the Bellas are still fast asleep, and she is quite literally freezing her ass off in just a tank top and underwear in one of the coldest months in Atlanta.

But when Chloe had sidled up next to her, pressing meaningfully against her back like she usually does when they “bump” into each other like this at increasingly later hours of the night, in the kitchen with the countertop digging into Beca’s stomach, it was per usual that she had just gasped, all the inhibitions pertaining to their questionable actions fading away as she presses back, hands clenching at the polished granite and head dropping forward. It was like they had once again slipped into their own little piece of reality, or some semblance of reality where each one imagined themselves living a dream while they secretly hoped and prayed that they are not, and matters that would normally be groundbreaking and world shattering are suddenly miniscule and insignificant.

In the cool serenity of the hour, the fact that they are best friends with little to no acknowledgement of the other having non platonic feelings towards them as well as the fear of that acknowledgement being solidified in the harsh light of day gets pushed to the back of their mind. The terror of their feelings casting them apart from all they’ve ever known is tranquilized, and it is then that they give in, grabbing ahold of that precious little time, trying to make the most of it before it all drains away.

Chloe had turned Beca around, barely pausing to allow her to display the permission that they both didn’t need, before latching her mouth to hers. Her breath is minty, the aftertaste of the toothpaste of Chloe’s nightly routine that obviously didn’t propel her to go to bed, and Beca thrives in it as her heart pounds to the stroke of their tongues. The sigh catches in her throat, only expelling forth when Chloe hitches a hand behind her knee, Beca receiving the message to hop onto the kitchen counter. 

It’s cold, so so incredibly cold under the bareness of her skin, but Beca hardly registers before the warmth of Chloe’s body melts it away. The sigh is only a puff of air now, swallowed by the dimness of the room as Chloe leaves her lips to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw. Neither seems to mind when Beca’s hands thread through Chloe’s hair, when her legs spread further apart, seeking to contract as much contact as she can before their reality is over.

They rarely speak when this occurs, like some sort of silent agreement that their bubble is only truly existent of none of them pops it. Words are synonymous with knives when Chloe’s fingertips are skimming the cotton of Beca’s underwear, and it is far too dangerous to jab when the bubble is too large, too intoxicating, for them to destroy,

Beca mumbles a curse when Chloe’s palm slides up her spine, her heel straining against the wooden of the cabinet beneath her feet at the feeling of shivers running up her back. She clenches her fists, one at the base of Chloe’s neck one at the back of her head, using her hold in Chloe’s hair to remove her lips from where it is sucking a marking on her pulse point to return to her own.

Chloe’s laughter is shortened by the wrapping of Beca’s legs around her waist, quieted by the rocking of her hips. Their kiss turns desperate, needy, and it is like time is trickling quicker than water when Beca moans at the nipping of Chloe’s teeth. She pushes forward, again and again, relieving yet building her aching against Chloe’s shorts, and it is like she is sitting on a furnace instead of a freezing countertop at three in the morning.

Chloe’s tongue licks at her lips, gently, carefully, only to retreat when Beca finally grants her access. She grins at Beca’s groan at the exchange, taking delight in the tease before angling her head to kiss her deeper. Her nose is pressed into Beca’s cheek, breath stuttering as they both refuse to break apart, and Beca can tell that she is never ever going to get tired of the hum in Chloe’s throat whenever her nails scratch there when there is a sudden thump resonating from upstairs.

They spring away, the bubble burst as instantly as it had arose at the start of their weekly- almost semi-nightly- escape. It really couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes but Beca could feel the effect as if she is standing in a heated pool as she looks at Chloe.

Chloe, with her flushed face and dilated pupils and heaving chest, her mouth parted standing with her hands flexing by her sides.

Even with the darkened lighting filtering in through the window Beca’s own vision is so adjusted to the dimness that she can make out the dishevel of Chloe’s hair, can locate the exact spots in which she had ruffled it in the desire to get kiss the hell out of her. Her mouth feels dry, and she swallows to lubricate before wetting her lips.

Chloe’s gaze immediately drops. She lets out a huff like she doesn’t want to do what she is about to but is given no choice and-

Beca reaches out. “Chlo.”

It is the first time that either of them has said the other’s name when it happens and the fact is not lost in the crack of Beca’s voice. Chloe’s lip trembles, her whole face crumpling on the verge of tears. Beca immediately jumps down, not able to stand Chloe crying, but she is already turning.

“Sorry Bec, I- I can’t.”

There is so much pain in those words. Chloe’s eyes flash a blurry watery blue, a wary headlight in the dark, gone the minute she steps back into the shadows. Beca’s arm falls, her heart twisting guiltily in her chest, not regretting that she took her shot but sorry that she spoke the acknowledgement into place, setting the fears into motion. She raises a hand to her face, rubbing harshly at her eyelids, convincing herself that the mistiness of her lashes is due to her exhaustion.

It’s okay, she thinks, glancing at the clock on the microwave, it’s only three twenty six and come morning, there will be a pretense for us to pretend like nothing has happened. She can go to being touchy feely like she usually does and I can go back to pining. Like I usually do.

When has “usually” stopped being enough?

---

fin

[sxlver-sweet]

eyo im that soft chuuya anon hehe I meant nsfw 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

this concept makes my heart melt🥺 this has also been sitting in my drafts for like two days for no reason, so i apologize for the unnecessary wait🙏🏼

i’ve always considered chuuya to be someone who would have to be able to trust his partner immensely to even consider entering a relationship with them, let alone willingly place his heart in their palms. so, when you doze off at night with chuuya’s head resting on your chest and him drooling on your tank top, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s truly in love with you. he’s well aware that he harbors a rather… turbulent temper and is a bit rough around the edges when it comes to vulnerability, so he really appreciates you sticking around for someone like him. he isn’t shy about demonstrating it, either—especially under the sheets.

while he does get a kick out of teasing you until tears of frustration are welling up in your eyes and you’re on the verge of dissolving into the most pathetic of sniffles, he actually quite enjoys keeping things as sensual and romantic as possible. his tongue, clumsy and thick with declarations of love he struggles to confess, is deft and certain as it rolls over your clit and twirls around your pert nipples until you’re arching up to shove your breasts into his face. his fingertips scorch your skin as he carefully plucks away your clothing, taking his sweet time unraveling you like a present and appreciating every dip and curve of your body. his kisses are always passionate and unyielding, searing your lips and pouring all of his bottled-up emotions down your throat until you’re light-headed and leaning against him in search of balance.

he knows he’s wound tightly around your finger—that all you’d have to do is shed a tear and he’d command the entire city to be reduced to ashes with a snap of his fingers. as long as you’re good to him, he finds it incredibly difficult to deny you anything you ask for—not that he minds spoiling his sweet girl, though.

“fuckin’—shit, how are you still so tight?” chuuya hisses through clenched teeth as you sink down on his cock for the umpteenth time, your sodden walls just as greedy and inviting while suctioning his shaft deeper into your cunt and pulsating around his girth as they’d been a couple hours ago when you coaxed him into cockwarming you at his office desk. one look at the blissful haze clouding your eyes suggests that you’re in no state to offer an intelligible answer, and his assumption is only confirmed when you begin rolling your hips, thighs flexing and relaxing in rhythm with each bounce on his cock.

“feels—good,” you gasp out. “fuck—it’s… you’re—it... ‘s big, chuuya. feels good.” you tip forward, chest colliding with his and arms flinging around his neck. he can feel your saliva dripping onto his shoulder, your tongue lolling freely from your parted lips with each push and pull of your cunt against his thick shaft.

“ease up.” chuuya murmurs, hands slipping under your thighs to assist your movements. “let me help. i’ve got you.” you whine in response. your grip tightens around his shoulders at the feeling of his lithe fingers biting into the fat of your thighs. he hauls you up before letting you slide back down until the cusp of your ass meets his thighs, each stroke punctuated with a wet plop. “is my pretty girl tired?” his tone is teasing, graced with a quiet chuckle as he notices the increasing weight in his hands. “here, lie back. i’ll do the work tonight.”

[thirstyandbeautiful]

🥺 "okay goodbye" 😭😭😭

lewis and seb is something i am now obsessed with... DP with both of them in the mornings would be so good; spooning seb and he's holding your waist, facing lewis with your arms around his shoulders, you can't really move being in the middle so you're (very softly) just being used by them, the tshirts you all went to bed in are still on and you've still got the sheets pulled up so it's so warm in the bed but it just makes you so sleepy.

Their kisses woke you.

In the morning, it was hard to tell them apart. Two solid bodies pressed to you back and front, your head was still too fuzzy to remember who had fallen asleep on which side of you. 

Their kisses were soft and firm on your skin. They kissed wherever they could reach, your shoulders, your head, your face, your collarbones, anywhere their mouths could lazily taste was where they settled. 

You hummed to let them know you were waking up. The soft chuckle behind you told you Seb was there, while the nuzzle against your collarbone made soft locs brush against your cheek. You loved Lewis’ hair, and sometimes he would be too focused on you to wrap them before bed. You always noticed, but you never reminded him. He was such a soundless sleeper, he never tossed or turned, so there was no real harm in letting his hair free in bed. 

“Good morning, our darling.” Seb rasped into your ear as he kissed behind your ear. 

Your breath hitched when Seb pressed his lips harder to the back of your jaw and nipped the skin. Your chest dipped with a quick inhale when you felt the warmth of Lewis’ finger tip hook in the neckline of your tank top. Your head leaned back as Seb lazily sucked on your neck as Lewis slurped around your nipple. 

“Always so loud.” Seb teasingly made fun of Lewis.

You smiled, but didn’t open your eyes. Your thighs pressed together tightly, making your hips ache as you laid there on your side between your two lovers.

Seb’s hands squeezed your hips, making your back arch. The warmth of Lewis’ palm pressed through your tank top over your ribs as he sucked all of your nipple and the skin around it between his sinful lips. Your knees brushed against the raging erection in front of you, while your ass brushed against the one behind you. 

Gently, you threaded your fingers through Lewis’ hair and moved your fingertips as firmly as you could against his scalp. He mewled happily against your chest as his other hand tugged down the other side of your top, and he latched on to your other nipple. 

You carefully lifted your knee so it was pressed closer to Lewis’ cock. You could feel its heaviness rest atop your knee, and could feel the way his boxers were tented from the length and girth as he hung heavy between his legs. He started rubbing himself against your knee, and you hummed happily at your ability to easily pleasure one of your lovers without much effort.

Seb gave up on kissing your neck and instead held your hips in his firm grasp. He rolled his hips forward and dragged his cock back and forth over the globes of your ass. The smoothness of your cotton panties made it easy for him to drag his cock over it, his humming sounded more and more pleasurable as he touched you with himself. 

“Enough.” Lewis mumbled against your chest. 

You huffed a laugh when you felt Lewis’ impatient hands slap Seb’s off of you, but gasped when his hands left your skin and instead he pressed his hips forward, firmly pressing his now bare cock to your skin, the heat of his balls pressed against your mound from behind. 

It was short lived, because Lewis was fast and always made things infinitely better.

He shoved your panties down your legs, until he pushed them over your knees, leaving you to shimmy them off your ankles with your feet under the covers. When you finished squirming, Seb pressed against you again and sighed against your spine, his breath hot under the already stifling sheets, but you still shivered. 

With your eyes still closed, you felt Lewis push you back into Seb. You moaned softly as you pressed to the heated front of your love, his cock pressed against your ass. When Lewis joined your front, you whimpered, the heat between your two men threatened to burn you up, but none of it was as bad as the heat between your legs. 

“Shhhh,” Lewis cooed, “let us wake you up right.” 

You could feel the way Seb’s cheeks rounded and his lips quirked into a smile against the back of your shoulder. Lewis’ hand wandered down your body, a majority still covered by the big tank top your tits were hanging out of. He hooked his hand under your thigh and pulled it over his hip, finally pressed against you. 

You moaned as Seb’s cock pressed to your ass and Lewis’ cock pressed to your pelvis. They were so different, but you never wanted any two cocks more. Lewis’ girth made your pussy clench, while Seb’s length made you whimper. 

“Come, love.” 

When Seb moved behind you, you realized Lewis was directing him. You were still so overwhelmed and half asleep, so you could only visualize the way they must have been looking at each other over your head or shoulder, nodding to each other as they reached under you and grabbed themselves. 

You sucked in a heavy breath when you felt both of their length press to your swollen little cunt, ravaged raw the night before, and not getting a break anytime soon. You whimpered as you felt the head of their cocks rub together and against your entrance. They were getting themselves soaked in you and each other. They rubbed their tips together, covering each other in your juices and each other’s precum. 

Your hips jerked when you remembered a time when Lewis had tied you and Seb up and jerked himself and Seb off together in front of you. They both had been grasped in both of Lewis’ hands against each other. 

“Naughty, and eager.” Seb teased as his teeth sunk into your shoulder. 

You whimpered loudly as they began to push inside of you together, side by side. Your cunt tensed and eased over and over, gently and slowly allowing both cocks into your battered hole. Your lovers hissed as they pressed into you together, neither one filling you more than the other. Being passed back and forth the night before did not make your pussy very forgiving. 

You, on the other hand, whimpered and whined, loudly. Your cries vibrated against the sheets and the pillows, and your toes curled painfully under the sheets. Your skin burned from overstimulation and lack of air under the heavy comforter that had kept you warm all night. 

You could hear the boys panting as they finally stopped moving, both of them in you so tightly and so firmly their balls pressed against each other’s on top of your thigh. Your leg shook over Lewis hip, until they both grabbed it and pulled it up against your shoulder, freeing it from the sheets as they pulled them down. The cool air crept under and made all of you moan when it touched where you were so intimately connected. 

Your eyes rolled open, your head bowed. You could see your tits, swollen and perky, Seb’s milky complexion under them where he held your waist. His thick forearm was hook under your thigh. Lewis pressed to your front, his body a beautiful sculpture adorned with tattoos. His arm flexed where it held your thigh as well. 

When you looked up, Lewis smiled at you, “Good morning.”

And with a simple nod of his head over your shoulder, they began moving together inside of you. 

[fantasmalforces]

@ineffablemuses SAID: “ if you kiss me, we’re not getting out of bed today… “ -> Vin and Star 🥺

💜 A Hundred Kissing Prompts // CLOSED 💜

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Star purred, nuzzling into Vincent’s hair and breathing in his scent. This was easily her second favorite part of the day: getting to wake up in the morning next to him. Still swaddled one their bedsheets, limbs tangled up around one another, trapped in a comfortable cocoon of their own body heat, savoring the soft sounds of one another breathing and the sight of the early morning sun casting a silvery glow on each other’s peacefully resting face. She loved it. It was a small thing to take pleasure in really. In the grand scheme of things, that hour or two they spent together every morning didn’t much. But to them, it was one of the most important, most cherished things in the world. They could forget everything else existed and just get lost in each other.

Star pressed her lips to his, savoring the way he hummed into it. His hand found her waist, pulling her closer to him till their hips were pressed up against each other. She purred, tails waving with interest. When he drew back, she found herself lost in those vibrant violet eyes of his. He was panting softly. His cheeks flushed pink. The color only darkened as her fingers rose to push his black hair out of his face she could caress his cheek and really appreciate his whole visage. She grinned wide, kissing his nose. “I’ve gotta be the luckiest cat in the world to have you, Vinny.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” She chuckled, moving closer to run the backs of his fingers along her, knuckles trailing against her jaw in that way he knew she loved. Sure enough, she melted under his gentle caresses just like she always did, chasing his fingertips with her lips. He lips parted and his thumb took advantage, trailing along the plush skin of her lower lip to savor the satin-like feel of it.

“Because you make me feel beautiful.” Vincent paused, brow twitching into a sweetly puzzled expression. One thing to appreciate about their relationship was that, even when it was hard, they were honest with each other. They were straightforward, communicative, and liked to solve their problems. Because they just didn’t know how much time they had together. Why let those wounds fester and become something ugly when they could just solve the issue and enjoy their time together? They both appreciated it. The sincerity, the honesty - it was important to them. And it made it so much easier to be open with each other. So, Star pressed on, kissing his thumb softly and caressing his wrist. “This might sound hard to believe, but when you grow up in an isolation tank being poked and prodded and trained as super weapon vaguely shaped like a cat, you tend to feel ugly when you look in the mirror. I look at my reflection and I don’t just see scars. I see reminders of every appointment and injection and test. I see a million and one reminds that I’m not a person, I’m a tool. A weapon. I see a body that look as wrong as it feels. I look at my ears and my arms and my tails and I hate myself. I hate all me really. I like what I can do. But I hate myself as I am. I still don’t know what you see in me past some freaky fetish opportunity.”

She laughed softly, tears beading up on her lashes. “But… even though I hate myself, and I hate the way I look, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look beautiful… you make me feel beautiful. You make feel like a person. You make me feel loved and desirable even when I think I never could be. You make me want to take care of myself instead of just destroy myself. And I… I don’t know the words to say what I mean but… I love you so much, Vincent. I appreciate you so much. And I appreciate how you make me feel just by being you. You make me feel like the happiest, hottest, sexiest, luckiest girl in the world. And I just hope that I make you feel like the happiest, hottest, sexiest, luckiest guy in the world too.”