#this was a sweet dorky scene

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Happy birthday Kanghan

Dangerous Romance, episode 3

01/09/2023

[ohrackham]

I thought you believed the best foundation for great love was friendship.

[raayllum]

every rayllum scene ever: 310/?

Oh man! This is crazy, Rayla! Everything here radiates with primal energy. Yup. That’s Xadia.

[ilovebeingaturtle]

have u given opinions on 2012 mikey or leo yet. they r my little guys

Something about 2012!Leo just turns my brain into unintelligible 💕💕✨✨✨💕✨💕✨✨💕💕 whenever he’s on screen, so I can’t ever coherently talk about him

Just know I love him very much

[lipglossanon]

They Were Roommates

୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol

Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)

Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆*｡୭̥⋆

“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”

You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”

Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.

“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”

He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 

“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”

“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”

He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”

“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”

And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 

You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!

Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”

You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 

“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 

Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 

Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 

You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 

Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 

He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.

Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 

He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 

Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 

“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”

You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—

Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??

“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”

His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”

Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 

Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 

He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”

He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”

You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  

Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 

You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.

Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 

He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”

Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 

“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 

Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.

“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 

Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 

You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.

You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 

Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 

“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 

“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”

“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 

“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 

You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 

Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 

You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 

Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 

“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 

You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 

“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 

Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 

Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 

Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 

You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 

Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 

It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  

You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 

“Something the matter?”

You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”

He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”

You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”

He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 

“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 

You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”

His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“

You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”

You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”

Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”

Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”

His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”

You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 

“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”

Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.

“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 

“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 

His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 

“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”

You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”

He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”

Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”

“Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 

“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 

“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”

You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 

“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”

“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”

“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 

“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”

Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 

“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”

You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”

“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”

“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”

You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.

“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”

“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”

He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 

“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 

You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 

“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”

Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 

“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.

“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”

You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 

He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 

“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”

He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 

“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”

“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”

You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 

“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”

Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”

“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”

“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”

You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”

One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 

“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”

Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 

“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”

You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 

“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 

“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”

You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 

You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 

With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 

“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 

Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”

“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”

You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 

[pvtjoker22]

I think something that kind of gets lost in the discussion around that scene and whether that line is shallow fan service is that Andy is Andy.

What I mean is that, Rain's dad loved puns, jokes, and breaking the tension with dad jokes and corny humour so much that he named an Android, Andy. Andy the friggin' Android. Also, yes that line is also a callback to Ripley's line in the power loader. But in terms of the context of where it appears in Romulus it is :

right after Rain puts back in her dad's dorky, sweet Andy chip

Right after she apologizes for hurting Andy

Right after a traumatic experience for Rain (she falls nearly to her death, then a xenomorph grabs her with the intent for a face-hugger to impregnate her)

which is to say they'd both been through a lot

With that context in mind, I'm pretty sure given the clue in Andy's sort-of sheepish line delivery that it's supposed to be him trying to come up with a dad joke, failing, and then just falling back to "...bitch?" which still ends up releasing the tension/de-stressing Rain and himself which is where the impact of the line is supposed to be, unless I'm way off-base

You can still definitely argue it's placement in the script at all is kinda cheap/corny but it makes sense within the scene in and of itself I think.

[elliespuns]

I wanna take a minute to appreciate this dorky, adorable cookie and her even more adorable, gayest reaction in this scene.

This here is a 'Oh, man, I'm getting a little too much attention right now, please don't stop' grin. I can't get over what an awkward sweet pea is. I want to squish her cheeks.

[theoceansluvr]

Percy Jackson x Marine Biologist! Reader pt. 2

warnings; none ! author's notes; this is technically a part 2 so i just named it the same thing ! thank you to the lovely anon that asked me to make this it truly made my day <99 sorry if this lowkey sucks im not too good at build up !

so you were minding your own business

walking to class, blasting music in your headphones because New Rome is LOUD.

so many demigods so little space

suddenly you're knocked over on the ground, your books everywhere. . .

and there's blue mountain dew all over your shirt.

"Oh my gods I'm so sorry ! I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

Percy was frantically trying to explain himself and you were just trying to pick up your books

his skateboard is somewhere flipped over in the grass(sk8r percy has my whole heart !!!)

of course you don't really care about whatever he's saying because you just want to get to class-

he insistantly tries to give you his number so he can at least clean the shirt for you

you, trying to make this boy leave you alone, take the number and tell him to meet you after class

as expected, he does meant you after class !

he brings you to his dorm(it's an absolute mess but he wasn't expecting to have guests so..)

let's say you happened to have a hoodie on you so you throw that on and give him your shirt to wash

while he's scrubbing the life out of it in the sink you guys start talking

once you tell him your major he's ECSTATIC !!

like giggling, kicking his feet kinda happy !

he normally doesn't brag about his godly parentage but oh boy

"Oh your gonna be a marine biologist ? My dad's basically the original marine biologist so like.."

you think it's cute that he's borderline trying to impress you so you guys kept talking even after he cleaned your shirt

days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months and you realize you actually really like percy..

like REALLY. like Percy

and who wouldn't ? his fish like charm is captivating is it not ???

and percy, ever oblivious to his own feeling, didn't even realize he liked you until you took him to the beach for some research one day

you're rambling about whatever animal it is your project is about

and he's staring at you like you put the corals in the sea(couldn't pass up a sea reference i fear)

which you are completely unaware of-

until he starts talking of course

"It's sweet when you talk about stuff like this.. cute even."

You're completely caught off guard because ⁉️

you brush it off as him just being nice

but he insists that he's being genuine, spilling out all his feelings in a kinda dorky way

and of course, you tell him you feel the same way

you both kind of sit in silence, the ocean crashing against the shore

"So.. what now ?"

SUPER BAD ENDING BUT I DIDN'T FEEL LIKE WRITING A KISS SCENE AND THAT'S ALL THAT CAME TO MIND AT THE END OF THIS. . . hope this was as good as the dear that requested it wanted it to be and thank you so much again ! <9

[livlaughloveluke]

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫- 𝐞.𝐥

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your usually bright and bubbly self snaps when you hear people talking bad about your boyfriend

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, one slap LMAO 😥, people are very mean in this :(

(loosely) based off this request: Just dorky shy ethan x sweet bubbly (maybe popular??) reader from @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome

𝐚/𝐧: two posts within the same day?!? also i only kinda followed the request but i think its similar! hope you guys like this one! 💘

you had just finished drawing a nose and whiskers with bright eyeshadow, when your phone lit up. you picked your it up, to see that ethan had texted you. you smiled and unlocked your phone to open the message.

ethan 💗

hey im omw

ill be there in 10 

                                                                         you

                                                          okay!! ily! 💘

ethan 💗

love you too ❤️

you and ethan were walking together to some frat party for halloween. a couple of your friends begged you to go, however you knew ethan wasn’t the most comfortable at parties. 

you asked him one afternoon if he was up to it, making sure to emphasize that it was okay if he didn’t want to go, and that you would be happy to stay home and watch movies all night if thats what he wanted.

ethan wanted to be supportive, so he said he didn’t mind going, which was a complete lie. but seeing the smile on your face when he agreed was totally worth it. 

you and ethan decided to be characters from ratatouille. you were the remi, and he was chef linguini. you took a more sexy approach, with a grey corset and mini skirt, while he dressed a little more modest, with jeans and an apron. 

you carefully put on the headband with little mouse ears attached to it, and your costume was complete. shortly after, you heard knocking. you left your room and headed to let ethan in. 

you giggled at the sight of his costume, and went to plant a kiss on his lips. he kissed you back, his face now a shade of red. 

“you looks so cute!” you say, grinning widely. ethan compliments your outfit, and you head off the party.

you interlock hands with him on the short walk, your arms swinging with every step. you heard the house from down the street, the typical frat party music blaring loudly. 

you enter the rowdy estate, and immediately see some of your friends. you rush over to them, dragging ethan along with you. you let go of his hand to hug your friends, which left him standing their awkwardly. 

you decide to go find some drinks, and invite ethan to follow you. however, on your way to the kitchen, the crowd separates you and him. 

when you find the drinks, you realize ethan wasn’t with you anymore. you reach the keg and fill up a red solo cup, trying to be quick so you could find him again. you search for a soda in the alcohol filled kitchen, knowing ethan wasn’t a big drinker.

while opening all of the cabinets, looking for anything that wasn’t spiked, a man around your age walked up to you.

“what are you? a mouse?” he asks, trying to start a conversation.

“remi the rat actually, im matching with my boyfriend.” you say, trying to politely express your disinterest while still searching for a damn soda. 

“whatcha looking for?” he continues to pester you, despite your previous comment.

“a soda, for my boyfriend.” you make sure to accentuate the boyfriend part, hoping he would take the hint. 

he opens a cabinet and hands you a sprite. 

“uhm thanks i guess.” you reply, and turned to walk away. the strange man grabbed you by the wrist, turned you around, and pulled you closer to him.

“he doesn’t have to know.” he whispers maliciously. 

you yank your arm away from him, and take off the other way. you tried your best not to make a scene, hoping that you could leave that all behind you and have a good time. 

he seemed to leave you alone after that whole ordeal, and you searched around the house for ethan. you eventually spotted him in the corner alone, scrolling through his phone. 

a wave of guilt washed over you. you should have been able to tell that he was lying when he said he wanted to come. 

you rush over, and apologize for leaving him. 

“im so sorry eth, we can go home if you want.” 

ethan saw the look of disappointment in your eyes, and he couldn’t bear to make you leave.

“it’s fine, really. I don’t mind. can you stay with me, please?” ethan asked. 

“of course, baby.” you replied, handing him the soda. “i know you don’t like drinking, so i found a soda for you!! all i could find was sprite, although i know your favorite is coke.” you say.

ethan smiled at your caring personality. how did he pull you? you were drop dead gorgeous and extremely popular, and he was well, just ethan. 

a loser, friendless, and a nobody were all words people used to describe him. you however, made him feel the opposite.

with you, he was someone. he could be himself around you, and make the stupid dad jokes that he was scared to say around other people in fear of being judged. 

just then, someone shouted your name from across the room. you grabbed ethans hand and interlocked your fingers once again, making sure he stayed by your side this time.

you pulled him over to a group of people, all of which he was unfamiliar with. you greeted all of them with a smile, and started catching up with them.

“your costume is so cute!” said one of the girls you were having a conversation with. 

“thanks!! ethan helped pick out most of it!” you reply back, leaning your head on his shoulder and smiling.

what you seemed to miss was the nasty glares they gave ethan. 

“is he uhm.. your boyfriend?” another girl from the group asked. what you didn’t miss was the tone she used. it was like she was ridiculing him, and for what? 

“yeah. got a problem with that?” you ask in a sarcastic tone, although you weren’t in the mood for being funny. 

“its just.. he’s kinda… nevermind.” the girl says back, her voice lowering at the end.

“no, say it. he’s kinda what?” you respond back, not as cheerful this time. ethan stood next to you, looking down at the ground. 

“fine. he’s a fucking weirdo.” the girl blurted out, and you were livid. in the heat of the moment, you slapped her straight across the face, hoping to knock some sense into her. 

the group gasped, and ethan looked at you with wide eyes. 

“what the fuck?!?” she shouted, getting everyones attention.

“how the hell are you gonna make fun of my boyfriend when you’re to much of a slut to even keep one?!?!” you yell at her. all you heard was “ooohs” from the crowd at your statement. 

ethan dragged you outside before anyone could say anything else. 

“are you okay??” ethan asks, worried. you look at him confused. 

“i should be asking you if you’re okay! those bitches had no right to say anything about you. you’re the best boyfriend, and if they can’t see that, than it’s their loss.” you reply.

ethan just hugs you upon hearing your words. 

he wanted to spend forever in your arms. you were his savior, protecting him from every asshole out there. 

[fhrlclln]

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ qimir and jason mendoza fics to be posted !!

in the darkness (smut & eros and psyche inspired au)

SUMMARY -> abandoned by her own family and order due to her curse and having no husband, they leave her on a remote planet surrounded by water and grey clouds, as said in her cruel prophecy that her supposed betrothed awaits for her there to take her. but this husband of hers is no ordinary man as he always wears a mask.

qimir x fem!reader

req by anon: "I don’t usually do ask but I DESPERATELY need a qimir au smut😭 idk about what but I just know I need it"

forlorn (angst)

SUMMARY -> loving him was the hardest thing she has ever done but how does that love go so far when he is so immersed in the darkness?

qimir x fem!reader

req by anon: "i’m sorry but i need angst! i need qimir and reader angst!"

devotion (slight nsfw)

SUMMARY -> devotion is one word to describe his pupil, his sweet and caring devoted pupil. he would burn the world for her if she asked so, but he knew deep down what he was feeling was wrong. he couldn't help himself, could he?

possessive!qimir x acolyte!fem!reader

req by anon: "hi, same person from the forbidden obsession qimir ask, i forgot to mention that i feel like age gap would also go good with that,(legal ofc!) like he is just so down bad for her and she is just always so sweet to him and is only devoted to him. and when osha comes into the picture, like they’re in the cave talking scene, reader just walks in mid conversation and is just like “master, you should be resting!” because she is also solely devoted to him and osha just in disbelief, shocked looking upon the dynamics of them and how they are so close. like ugh <3"

truths and lies (part two to wasted confessions)

SUMMARY -> secrets are finally laid down to rest, but the consequences of it make it hard for her to trust her dorky lover, who turns out to be the man she fears the most. qimir wants her to trust him.

qimir x fem!reader

req by multiple anons LMAOOO luv y'all

and many more short qimir fics in the works!

afterlife buddy (smut)

SUMMARY -> your lonely life doesn't end on earth, but it reaches the afterlife. luckily, you have jason, right? even though he has his soulmate in the good place.

jason mendoza x fem!reader

will post these fics soon! so sorry if your req took so long for me to write, but I am currently getting mild writer's block from doing multiple tasks in college!! and i am hoping i get my feet back on the track. also i don't have a taglist for thisss <33

[grazi-your-rockette-queen]

This is a scenario I like to play in my head lol: you meet a dorky Kirk and hit it off immediately. He acts cute and shy which draws you in. One way or another you end up in his room where he’s pretty much a freak in the sheets kinda guy💀but still very sweet afterwards

omg sooo i love this sm. i have to admit i’m a little bit of a perfectionist and i really hope this is close to what you imagine but omg i feel u. i literally love himmm. also i kinda suck at beginnings so bear w me 🙏 (i also accidentally deleted the first half when i was almost finished and had to rewrite the whole beginning 🥰)

this is gonna be long so prepare urself babes

sweet but psycho- kirk hammett

you were at a get together that your cousin had dragged you to, something relating to this band that he was a roadie for. he had decided you needed to get out more, and that it was a good opportunity for you to socialize. it wasn’t necessarily your scene, denim and patches galore, but you fit in alright. it wasn’t too much fun for you though, there were drinks and a few guys attempting to make conversation, but none were interesting or attractive enough to capture your attention. you decided to head into the living room of whoever’s house it was, and sit yourself down on one of the two couches, beer in hand. you took a swig from the bottle before noticing the curly haired, leather jacket wearing metalhead sitting on the other couch. he must’ve noticed you, as he was staring shyly through big brown eyes shielded partially by bangs. he matched the vibe of the other people in the house, only he stood out for some reason. he wasn’t actively getting drunk and acting mad, instead he was sitting quietly with a beer and a magazine of some sort. he smiled at you subtly, and you returned the smile with a little,

“hi.” and it was history from then on, once you noticed the magazine he had was not any regular magazine, but one you’d never seen or heard of before, having to do with some sort of horror element. before you knew it, you’d moved to sit next to him and the two of you began talking about just what got you into this get together. his individuality intrigued you, though he partially resembled many other people at the event, he didn’t act like any of them in the slightest. he was calm, quiet. it was not a thing you’d experienced with anyone your cousin had introduced you to in this specific music scene, but you enjoyed talking to him.

“oh, i can’t believe i forgot to ask your name?” you brought your hand up to your forehead in slight disbelief, you’d been so easily distracted by the boy’s actions that you hadn’t thought about his name at all. 

“i’m kirk, and you?”

“kirk. my name is y/n.” your lips curving into a smile. he too was smiling, you noticed his teeth were certainly crooked, but as a first, you almost found it cute. you were mesmerized by everything you perceived kirk as, the way he seemed to prefer his own quiet company over other people’s attention, the way he was so incredibly easy to talk to. and he was very sweet.

it got to be very late, and you’d been talking for hours before you realized it was past midnight and you should be getting home. it occurred to you’d driven your cousin in your car, and you hadn’t seen him in a while. you let kirk know that you had to leave before blowing him a little kiss, which he blushed at. you waved to him and stood up, asking around for your cousin, and a small crowd of people said that he’d left with someone and they were supposed to tell you. you shrugged and walked towards the door, but you stopped in your tracks, remembering that you had wanted to give kirk your phone number. you searched for a piece of paper or anything you could write on, coincidentally bumping into kirk in the kitchen while he was looking for another drink. he smiled and you both laughed a little, and you told him you’d wanted to give him your number. his eyes lighted up and his smile grew wider, he contained his excitement and just said,

“ok!” in a soft voice. as the both of you looked for a pen and paper, you asked what his plans were for the rest of the night.

“uh, i’m not really sure. i’m here with the rest of the band, we might get back to the studio, we might go home, god knows, really. all i know is i’m tired.” he chuckled at the last bit, rubbing his eyes.

“i could give you a ride home, if you want.” you offered in a quiet voice, it being the first thing you thought of. he looked back at you,

“yeah, sure, i’d like that.” he agreed.

“i probably have sticky notes in my car or something. just remind me about it.” he nodded and followed close behind you out the front door of the house, making your way through a mixture of drunken party goers. by the time you were on the front porch, you looked back to make sure he was still behind you. you owe him to your car and you both got in, backing out of the crowded front lawn. you drove him to the house he lived in with the rest of the band, and parked in the driveway. you remembered to look for sticky notes in your car, while you were frantically doing so, kirk suddenly grabbed your hand. you looked up at him,

“y/n… would you, um, come in with me?” he asked with a red hot face, looking into your eyes. you hesitantly but happily agreed. he opened the car door for you, and walked you inside the house.

“you live here with all your band? is it fun?”

“most of the time it’s not bad. it’s just us, y’know.” he held your hand as the two of you walked upstairs, the tension temporarily going unacknowledged, until you got to his bedroom. the two of you stopped talking, only becoming lost in each others eyes as your bodies slowly inched closer to one another. he held you by the hips, and with your lips being mere centimeters apart, he whispered,

“can i kiss you?” you nodded almost unnoticeably before colliding your lips with his in a swift, soft kiss that would evolve to be heated and intense. it was seconds before he had his jacket and shirt off, joining your own on the floor by his bed. he laid you down and met you on his bed, reconnecting your mouths again, and he started to move his hands down your half dressed body, starting at moving up your torso, to your chest.

“can i take this off?” he asked, between kisses and heavy breaths. you nodded once again and lifted yourself up off the bed enough for him to reach behind your back and unclasp your bra. you helped him remove it from your arms, letting it fall off the side of the bed. he let away from the kiss to admire the view of the top half of your body underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, breathing slow and loud as he cupped one of your tits with his hand, running his thumb over your nipple. you gasped at the movement, watching him. he continued kissing you again, and began moving down to your neck and collarbone, starting to suck and bite, leaving dark spots there. you ran a hand through his soft hair, moaning softly. he kissed a line from your neck to the waistline of your bottoms, and only looked up at you for approval to take off your shorts, which you granted. he hooked his fingers on your shorts and pulled them down with your panties, leaving him facing your dampening pussy. he was nearly drooling at the sight, not bothering to resist running a finger through your folds to check just how wet you were. as he did so, you gasped again, and felt the bulge in his jeans twitch against your leg. he drew the finger up to his mouth to taste your arousal, eagerly licking it clean before grabbing onto your legs, spreading them apart and licking a thick stripe up your slick cunt, causing you to let out a loud sigh. he continued eating your pussy messily, licking and sucking for his life. he alternated from sticking his tongue in and out of your hole and sucking on your clit. you kept both your hands tangled in his hair, mewling and starting to occasionally buck your hips to his face, and he started slowly grinding up against the mattress.

“kirk! i’m going to-”

“come on my tongue baby, you got it.” and you did, with a loud moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. he was quick to lap up all of your cum from between your thighs as you panted. you grabbed onto his hair, pulling it so that he would look up at you, he moaned at the pressure, obeying the action and looking up at you, cum still dripping down from his chin.

“i want more, please?” he didn’t waste time making his way back up to meet your lips with his, allowing you to taste yourself on him. he hastily made an effort to undo his jeans and pull out his dick, and shift so that he can like himself up with your entrance, teasing your clit with his tip.

“this good baby?”

“yes, please kirk?” you whined, shutting your eyes tightly at the sensation of his hard cock being pushed into your warm, wet pussy. kirk’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted, a soft groan being drawn from his lips before he started moving hollowly. you continued whining and moaning, kirk moved down closer to you again to lick all over the little bruises he’d left on your collarbone previously, moving down to your tits to grab one and lick your nipple before taking as much as he could in his mouth, starting to thrust deeper and faster. your hands left his hair and one grabbed onto his hand as he started rubbing your clit in tight circles, causing you to gasp and moan loudly even more from the feeling of overstimulation.

“mnh, kirk! i’m- i’m-ahh” you were unable to finish any coherent sentence, only whines and cries of pleasure made it out between your lips.

“i know baby, i’m gonna cum soon, you feel so good.” he groaned loudly, still keeping his attention on your chest and moving up again to kiss you deeply, picking up his speed even more as his hips began to stutter. you came for the second time, walls contracting tightly around his twitching dick. he pulled out, giving his cum coated cock a few pumps before releasing onto your chest and stomach with another groan. he exhaled, then slumped down next to you on the bed, both of you breathing heavily.

“oh my fucking god!” you exclaimed as soon as your breath was caught, “that was… amazing.” you shut your eyes and smiled, leaning against kirk’s shoulder. he smiled and laughed softly.

“i did not expect any of that at all.” your words were drawn out and tired, as you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

“so it was good?”

“yes it was good!!” you looked up at him, meeting his eyes with a thrilled smile. he smiled proudly and kissed you once more.

“good.”

[lexirosewrites]

i know it's getting late to be sending in slick sunday stuff, so totally expecting this to be put off until next week, but i have to get it out before i forget.

so a couple weeks ago, i thought of this o!steve / a!eddie idea while listening to next contestant by nickelback (gloomysoup listening to nickelback? more likely than you might think) if you've never listened to that song specifically, i highly recommend it. one of my favs on that album. anyway, back to slick sunday and off my brief nickelback tangent (which those who follow me probably see enough of already)

some of the details are a little hazy, but omega!steve is a stripper at this club. it's a nice club, honestly. imagining beta or omega!robin is a bartender or something, maybe dj. again, details are hazy and nothing set in stone. enter alpha!eddie, who is a very feared mafia boss. he hangs around the club often, always watching the dancers and other staff very closely. he's known for tipping well, but never asks for private dances. no one really knows why, but the tips are absolutely nothing to complain about. and he tips everyone, not just the dancers. nights that he's there, even the bartenders and waitresses leave with full pockets in a way they wouldn't on any normal night.

what no one at the club (except the "owner", alpha!chrissy) knows is that eddie is actually the big boss. he owns the whole thing, a major front for his behind the scenes businesses, letting chrissy take the title and do all the main business stuff. chrissy is his best friend, his second in command, and she does a lot of other stuff for eddie's "business" too. this is just one of her more public responsibilities.

from the moment steve first took the stage at this particular club, he's noticed eddie's eyes on him more than any of the other dancers. eddie is obsessed with him. he decides very quickly that he has to have this omega, and this omega alone. he starts his courting attempts, trying to remain mostly subtle at the beginning. flowers and notes and the occasional gift left in the locker room for steve, signed with a simple letter 'E'. steve knows who they're all from, though. he entertains it for a while, but doesn't take it seriously. he doesn't know what this mysterious, wealthy alpha's intentions are. soon, he starts to wear down a little. figures, fuck it. if he accepts, he'll be set for life. he'd never have to worry about how he was going to pay his bills again. he'd be taken care of, financially. and maybe, if he's lucky, he'll get a few of those pups he's always wanted out of the arrangement.

what he doesn't count on, though, is actually falling in love. eddie's sweet, and dorky, and attentive. he lavishes steve with more than just expensive gifts and grand dates. he loves him, practically worships the ground he walks on. steve hadn't expected to fall, but there he was, ass over tits for this dangerous alpha.

relationship thoroughly established, and the pair well on their way to a perfect happy mating, steve is still working at the club. he loves his job, at least he does most days, and he doesn't want to give it up just because he can afford to stop working. just because eddie happily pays for all his wants and needs. plus, it keeps him active, and eddie certainly isn't complaining about the added bedroom benefits. eddie would never stop steve from doing something he loves, though, so he's happy to watch his boy at work. he's at the club every night, and he never strays far from steve, always watching with stars in his eyes.

something important to note, though, is that eddie is possessive. he knows steve is hot, and it's clear that everyone else in the club knows it too, but he doesn't like others touching what's his. when a patron gets a little handsy, or makes a comment that makes eddie's skin crawl, it isn't long before they're taught a lesson. he's always there and ready to swoop in if steve gets uncomfortable, and he's always the one taking steve home at the end of the night.

steve doesn't know any of this is happening, though. not at first. it takes a long time for him to pick up on anything. once he starts noticing things, though, he gets suspicious. there are fewer comments made, and patrons are a lot less handsy than before. he notices that some of his problem customers have been mysteriously disappearing.

he confronts eddie about it, of course. they get into a big argument. steve doesn't need eddie's help. it's his job. he handles it just fine on his own. he doesn't need eddie going behind his back to make examples out of his customers. he stays the night at robin's that night.

it isn't until a few nights later that steve understands it. he sees eddie's face when someone makes a grab for steve's ass as he's walking by. watches the way it hardens, his eyes dark with possession. the jealousy, the borderline fury. it all makes sense. and honestly, it sends a chill up steve's spine. he's dripping by the time he has a spare moment to pull eddie aside, straight into the back office and clicking the lock on the door.

obviously they fuck nasty about it, and it becomes a Thing™️ for them.

-

that turned out really long, but hey, what's new? anyway, there's my stripper!steve and mafia boss!eddie au that's been swirling around my brain for a couple weeks. hopefully it's also a nice break from all the sad stuff i've been sending in lately haha

happy slick sunday :))

steve’s a slut for his jealous alpha🥰🥰🥰

[mechaknight-98]

Dominance (NSFW) Yel

Authors note: A short little gift of Yel I guess. No funny joke or behind the scenes stuff

I was working on an assignment for work when Yel entered my office. She had a big, bright smile that always filled me with affection for her. She was always so happy and dressed so cutely, but today she wore a crop top that made her chest pop and a loose-fitting jacket that gave tempting glances at her impeccable body. I tried to focus on my work, but Yel demanded my attention. She twirled her blonde hair in an attempt to get me to focus on her. Eventually, her exasperated sighs and expressions made me take my focus off my work. I turned to her, and Yel grinned triumphantly.

“What’s up, Yel?” I asked as she sat down on my desk to my right. She pouted as she looked at me. Her eyes shimmered as she moved closer, causing my heart to beat a bit faster. She gave me that sweet innocent look before asking,

“There’s this guy I’ve been crushing on, but he’s too sweet to make a move.”

While I was slightly disappointed by this information, I was abundantly happy for Yel. She is a catch and deserves a great guy. “Okay, I can work with that. First question: do you know if he’s interested?” I asked. Yel nodded slowly.

“I’ve caught him drooling and fantasizing about me when we hang out a couple of times. Plus, there was this one time he moaned my name when he was taking a nap,” she said. I smiled—he sounded normal so far.

“So, what’s stopping him from asking you out?”

“There’s an age gap. He’s older by a bit, but we hit it off super well, so I’m not sure how to broach the subject. He’s so tied to this concept that because I’m younger, he’s bad for liking me.” I nodded; he sounded like a good guy, and I could easily understand his plight.

“Oh, and he’s also trying to be a good guy, but I know he’s dirty on the inside like me,” Yel added, and I laughed.

“Oh, are you some kind of goddess of love or something?” I teased. Yel smiled and nodded sarcastically.

“Have you seen me? I’m a total smoke show,” she said, smiling while fanning herself with her jacket and showing off her midriff. I would have looked away, but my body wouldn’t let me.

“Okay, fair—you are stunning,” I said, and Yel’s smile grew a bit brighter. She shifted in her seat, subtly leaning closer, her knee brushing against mine under the desk. It made me kind of wish the guy she was fawning over was me, but I’m too old for her.

As I relaxed into my chair and gave her situation some thought and attention, I had another question. “Okay, last question: how does your company feel about dating?” Yel smiled. I noticed she moved closer in her excitement, her eyes growing to the size of saucers.

“I knew you’d ask that question. You’re always so responsible about that kind of stuff. To answer your question, they’re fine with it as long as I’m not letting it get in the way of promotions.”

I nodded, now getting a full view of the picture.

“Oh, okay. Well, then let’s start with Attack Hs: Hunger, Hobbies, Habits. What’s his favorite food? What does he do in his free time, and what is his lifestyle like?”

Yel’s eyes brightened as she talked about this hypothetical man.

“Oh, the first one is easy. He loves ramen, pizza, and burgers,” she replied lightning fast. I nodded to show understanding of her words and that I was listening.

“Okay, and hobbies?” I followed up.

Yel smiled mischievously. “Oh, he’s a total helpless nerd. He loves going out to the countryside to take pictures and Kaiju movies. He finds them relatable since he’s kind of a loner, to be honest. Also, don’t tell him I know this, but once a month he goes to this event called Kaiju Big Battel. He dresses up as a Kaiju and fights other guys and girls in costumes over miniature model cities. It’s dorky, but it’s a lot of fun to watch, and he always gets so into it,” Yel said.

I laughed because I go to Kaiju Big Battel. I began to wonder if I knew the guy she was talking about. I nodded and then asked about the dude’s lifestyle.

Yel pouted. “That’s the one thing I don’t know. We don’t talk outside a few hours during the week in person and text over off-hours. I do worry about him sometimes because I’ll randomly see him beat up over the week, and I don’t know how it happened.”

I nodded and noted that she sees him throughout the week. “Oh, so it’s a workplace romance?”

Yel shook her head as she grimaced, annoyed, before smiling. “No, he works in the same office building, though.”

I nodded and responded, “Then ask him out or seduce him—it’s your call.”

Yel laughed and said, “Okay. Barry, will you go out with me, or do I need to make it more obvious?” I blinked rapidly, processing what Yel said. She closed my laptop and guided me to stand and face her. She bit her lip before repeating herself. I got lost in her, as I processed that this remarkable young woman had romantic feelings for me. It was daunting but exhilarating. I took a chance and kissed her.

As our lips met in that unexpected kiss, time seemed to slow down. Yel’s touch was gentle yet electric, sending a rush of warmth through me. When we finally pulled away, I found myself staring into her eyes, trying to process the moment.

“Wow,” I managed to whisper, my heart still racing.

Yel smiled, a hint of shyness breaking through her confident demeanor. “Wow indeed,” she replied softly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“Me too,” I confessed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders as I admitted my feelings.

We stood there, caught in a moment of shared understanding and newfound closeness. The air between us crackled.

“I should get back to work,” Yel said, breaking the silence with a small laugh. “But maybe we could continue this conversation over lunch?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, a smile spreading across my face. “Lunch sounds perfect.”

As Yel gathered her things to leave, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness. As I tried to focus on work a different problem arose.

As I worked I tried to stop my surging lust for Yel from getting out of control. I tried counting to ten and doing breathing exercises but to no avail. The monster between my legs had awakened and demanded appeasement. I groaned as I couldn’t focus anymore. I sat in my office for a few minutes before Yel came back.

Her eyes were dilated and her tan skin flushed. She looked at me with a hunger I knew very well. Our eyes locked and our bodies took over as she closed the door to my office.

“I’m so fucking wet for you. You have no idea.” She said as I got up. Her eyes went to my crotch and she chuckled “Maybe you do have some idea”

She looked at my bulge and bit her lip.

“Is that because of me?” She asked I wordlessly nodded as even now I tried to suppress ripping her top off and fucking those massive tits. As if sensing my struggle Yel says 9 words that give me the green light.

“What are you waiting for Daddy? Come Fuck me!”

I close the distance and bring her face to mine. This kiss is aggressive. I'm staking my claim on her. She mine. Yel submits to my aggression as my tongue dances with hers. She moans in my mouth as I feel her grind into my right knee. Eventually, we need to come up for air and the lust has only gotten stronger.

“Let me fuck your gorgeous tits,” I growl at her. Yel mewls and says

“Yes, daddy. Before lowering herself to my crotch. She smiles brightly as she lifts her top. Her tits bounced mesmerizingly as they adjusted to being free. Unable to control myself. I yanked my pants down and got out my cock.

“Oh, Daddy has such a nice cock for me to worship,” Yel said as lightly palmed my cock before slathering it in her spit. I moaned as she licked and slurped my rod. I look down at her. Her eyes are rolled into the back of her head as her tongue wraps around the shaft before ending with a light poke to the tip. Yel smiles before opening her mouth and taking me deep into her mouth.

The sensation is crazy I’ve never felt anything like this before. There is so much spit in her mouth when her nose reaches my groin that I can see it pooling on her chest. Yel’s sloppiness causes me to get even harder as I grow more in her mouth. I hear her moan causing her throat to vibrate around my cock in an unexpected way that causes me to cum violently down her throat. My mind goes blank as the lustfulness takes hold. I see Yel’s eyes are clouded as well. A ditzy smile painted across her face.

We let our instincts guide us as I plunge back into her mouth. Yel mewls before wrapping and sliding her tongue around my rod as I fuck her face. More drool pools down her chest as she stares luridly at me her eyes full of lust and love. When I cum again down her throat she smiles as her spit and my cum pool all over her face and chest. She massages her massive chest before saying “Does daddy have enough for my tits?”

I growl as I take my cock and position it between her mounds. Yel moans as I manhandled her.

“Yes, Daddy use my body.” She says as I relentlessly pound into her pillowy tits. My possessiveness and affection ferment together as I watch her so effortlessly take all of me.

“Fuck babe. You’re taking me so well,” I praise Yel and her eyes grow bigger

“Please I only exist to please Daddy. I’ll make sure your balls are drained every morning before work and before bed. Just please let me be your baby girl.” I smile at Yel and say

“Of course.” She smiles and begins to drool even more on my cock before begging me to cum all over her huge tits.

“Come on Daddy please cum for me. Cum all over my tits mark me. Make me daddy’s little good girl,” Her pace is relentless as she fucks me with her tits she moans as her pace becomes breakneck.

“Oh fuck Daddy I’m cumming!” Yel screams. I watch as she can barely contain herself she jolts and it causes me to cum again as well. I paint her face neck and chest. Yel smiles and massages it all in before she says, “I can’t wait for you to fuck this tight pussy.”

I groan and pick her up before peeling her pants off. Yel moans as I do.

When I manage to get her tight jeans off I am greeted by her dripping pussy. I slam my face into it. I taste her nectar which has a sweet taste that’s a little sour. She moans and yells, “fuck Daddy don’t tease me fuck me with that fat cock.” I laugh and jam my cock into her. Yel moans satisfied. “Oh god yes.” She yells. Her walls are tight, but she is so wet that’s a nonissue. I easily slip in and out of her sopping cunt as massages my cum and spit into her tits.

“Oh yes, Daddy you fill me so well.” She said. I feel my lust surging as I thrust in and out of her at a pace matching the rhythm of her moans.

“Yes use me as a flashlight.” Yel moans as I thrust deeper and deeper until I hit her womb. She moans and then she yells

“Daddy I’m cumming again.” As she does her pussy clenches me tight. I hold out long enough to fuck her through her orgasm until she yells.

“Fuck Daddy you’re so big. You take me so well. Fill my cunt.” Helpless to her request I concede and fill her greedy pussy with my seed. She moans in approval. She smiles and then says.

“Can you take the rest of the day off?”

[amell333]

My pretty boy no matter what S.R

!!English is not my first languge!!

Summary: Spencer is feeling a little insecure since his contacts had to be renewed and have to wear glasses for a week or so.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male Reader

content warnings: Spencer being insecure, and nerves what reader think. But mostly just pure fluff.

Spencer have had aa problem with his contacts for a while, and now have to wear his old glasses for a week or so. He didn’t partially have a problem with it. back a few years after he joined the BAU he wore them all the time (season 2 btw).  

He didn’t really care about what people thought, everyone had seen him with his glasses anyway, he was fine with glasses had no problem with them, sure they could be annoying and fog up easily, but he didn’t mind.

And that Wednesday morning wasn’t any different. He had been busy getting new glasses because the old once broke so he hadn’t been able to see since Monday and that did so he couldn’t work. He finally came back to the BAU. And of course, the first he went looking for, after putting his jacket and bag down, was of course you, his favorite boy, he wasn’t going to tell you that though.

After Spencer had looked for almost 10 minutes and simply could not find you, he went to JJ and Morgen to see if they know where you may have gone of to.

“Hey... uhm… Guys do you know where (M/N) is? I can’t find him.” Only after he asked he realized maybe it was not the best idea to and Darek Morgen, JJ was fine but Morgen. No yeah Morgen was totally going to tease the shit out of Spencer after he found you.

“Oh (M/N)? yeah last I saw his he was with Pen in her office.” JJ gave him a small smile after telling but before he could go Darek couldn’t wait with start teasing Spencer. “Oh lover boy looking for his little crush huh?” Spencer’s face turned red and his ears felt all hot.

“What!? Crush?! Wh- what no no…no no. ofcoursenotwhywouldyousayoreventhingthatwhat. No.” Darek and JJ started laughing. “Calm down pretty boy go find you lover boy ok.”

Without a word Spencer quickly left the scene to go find you where he hopefully thought was in Penelope’s office.

Not long after Spencer reached the office. And when he got closer, he could hear the voice of not only Garcia but also you. But just as he was about to push the door wider to step in and greet you and of course Penelope. He heard you say something interesting.

“That’s exactly why I hate glasses. They look all dorky and stupid they fog up. And is honestly just ugly, they don’t look good on anyone!” Spencer never cared what people thought about him he really didn’t. but… you were not people. You were (M/N). His (M/N). Your opinion matters the most to him. He cared what you thought about him.

He stopped himself before opening the door. He couldn’t let you see him like this. He wouldn’t.

But if he had just stayed a little longer he would have heard what was actually being said.

“What!?!?” Pen looked shocked wide eyes looking at (M/N). mouth gape staring at you. “why would he say that?! He’s only like ten! He’s too young to think that! Plus glasses does not make everyone look ugly that is an insult to me and my beauty!”

“I know Pen. I told my little brother that to. But he’s just scared he doesn’t want to get bullied and picked on by his friends and the other kids in the school.” you looked back at her. “and yeah you do look absolutely amazingly gorgeous.” You said that with a smirk on you’re lips.

“Ugh… darling you’re too sweet on me. But I know my glasses are so stylish and absolutely fabulous!” they both of you laughed. Then you checked the time. “Oh sorry Pen I got to go back to my desk, can’t stay here and chat forever. If only.” “See you later hun.”

You took you’re coffee mug from her table, thinking you could might as well fill it up on you’re way back. Plus you really needed something to wake you up, and that something is a hot cup of coffee.

When you walked in ready to finally get you’re hands on a nice cup of coffee you saw spencer. You’re face lit up. You haven’t seen him in days and he hadn’t texted you why, almost made you think he was ignoring you, you would have if he hadn’t texted you yesterday saying sorry he hadn’t answered back, but not telling why.

Spencer almost had his entire back turned to you. “ Hey Spence how-“ before you could say anything more Spencer hurriedly took something off his face and hid his had and the object in his pocket. He quietly and fast greeted you before running of. And that’s wired because you’ve never seen Spencer run by choice. Something was definitely wrong.

All day Spencer had avoided you and you didn’t know why. Evry time you walked into the same room as him we were fast you walk out laving you there confused and dazed. Why didn’t he want to talk to you? Normally you were the first he would greet. And he would normally be all excited to see you after only not seeing you for a day.

This was wired like really wired. He have never ever acted like this. So why? Did you do something? What could you have done to make you’re nerdy best fried avoid you, like you were the plage or something.

You really didn’t know. But what you did know was you were going to find out.

And that’s what you did, you went into full detective mode. You asked almost everyone on the team they thought it was wired as well. If there was one person, he never ignored it was you.

While you were asking around trying to find out what you could have done. Penelope was the 2.0 version of Sherlock Holmes. She had a feeling what could be wrong with Spencer. So while you were out asking trying to find out what was wrong, Pen was literally interrogating Spencer.

And after not so long Spencer knew she had figured it out, there was no point in hiding it for her anymore. He told her everything how he had hard how much you hated glasses and he was sorry for basically spying on you and her.

Penelope though was confused. What does he mean hated glasses you had no problem with it. you thought glasses were cute, and even had reading glasses yourself. But then she realized that he hadn’t herd the whole conversation, so while Spencer was rending between how sorry he was for spying and how sad he was about you.

She stopped him and tried to explain what was really said in the conversation and that he had misunderstood it all. Penelope didn’t even have time to finish her explanation before Spencer rushed out, yelling a quick thank you.

When he finally found you, you were sitting at you’re desk looking extremely down. Spencer felt like a big bucket of water just got splashed over his head. he felt so bad when he saw how stressed and sad he had made you. Thinking he should have just talked to you from the start.

He quickly walked over to you and stood at you’re desk. You were quick to notice him, standing up. Before you could ask him or say anything he started ranting about how he had herd you wrong saying how you hated glasses and how he saw sorry he didn’t just talk to you after the whole misunderstanding.

You caught on what had happened. And it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to deal with it, you know Spencer had always had trouble with explaining and acting on his emotions and just instead shut of thinking it would go away, and just solve itself.

You couldn’t get a word in, so you did what you had wanted to do since seeing him for the first time. You grabbed his head and shut him up with planting you’re lips on his soft ones, cautious at first, but when you didn’t feel any protesting and instead feeling him start to deepened the kiss kissing you back.

You moved one of you’re hands to the back of his head into the curls in the back, when you did that Spencer leaned further into you and the kiss. You backed away Spencer’s lips quickly trying to get closer to yours again. He looked at you as you look at him.

“You’ve been ignoring me because  you thought I didn’t like how you looked in glasses?” there was silence for a while before nodding his head slowly. “Baby why would you think that.” Spence looked down at the ground studently feeling embarrassed.

“it’s ok Spence. Please don’t look down you look so cute with you’re glasses on” when you said that Spencer’s ears turned red, and a wobbly smile had formed on his lips.

“You’re so pretty. You know that right? You’re my pretty boy” … “Wh-what did you just say” had he herd you wrong? Was he hearing things? Or did you just say he was you’re pretty boy? “ you want to be my pretty boy Spence?” all Spencer could do was nod, still thinking he was dreaming or something. “And glasses or not you’re my pretty bot no matter what Spence.”

You’re lucky no one was in the office at the time or you and Spencer would never hear the end of it but that wasn’t what mattered right now. All that mattered was Spencer at the moment.

Thank you so much for reading my fic. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. And have a good Day/Afternoon/Night!

[t-lostinworlds]

Itty Bitty Pretty | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: established relationship; mild angst; fluff; smut (18+)

》 SUMMARY: You overheard Steve’s and Robin’s debate about boobies being slightly overrated. It would've been amusing until Steve listed certain traits of boobs he found attractive. Being a member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, you started feeling insecure with yours.

》 WARNINGS: not set in a particular timeline (but steve & robin still work at family video), boobs/boobies & tits/titties, steve's poor wording, steve loves (your) boobies, small misunderstanding, mentions of toxic parents (both steve & reader), past bullying, pet names (babe, baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, angel...it’s a lot), inexperienced!shy!reader, best!boyfriend!steve, dorky!steve, insecurities, fluffy reassurances, domestic bliss (!!!), showering together, steve babying/doting over r, first i love you’s, sweet & slow to intense smut (a gear shift, if u will), 18+ Content [MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!] ~ extended warnings below the cut!

》 WORD COUNT: 19.7k+ (she big like steve’s co—)

A/N: first time i saw the infamous boobies scene, this idea immediately popped into my head. i, myself, have small tits. like leaning down/arms pushing up to show cleavage? i don’t know her LMAO. so this is dedicated to all you lovelies out there who sometimes feel insecure with their breast size <3 all boobies are pretty no matter what!

++ also, basically, it’s become a thing that i only post smut once a year a.k.a. i unleash the harlot in me with no restraints any time of the year lmao. so this the 2022 Edition. so with that said, don’t expect anything groundbreaking 😭 bc again, i rarely write smut. also wrote this in 6/7 days so might be rush & i also proofread this once and kinda gave up halfway thru. but i hope you enjoy!! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE HARRINGTON MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

⚠️SMUT WARNINGS: mentions of virgin!reader (steve's her first), dom/sub dynamic, thigh riding & cowgirl (r’s first time at both), dry humping, so much nipple play, steve sucks loves on the titties a lot, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader (she’s a bit sensitive & emotional), soft!dom!steve & slightly mean!dom!steve (condescending/mocking), heavy praise kink, dirty talk (steve marathons his filthy ass mouth. i’m not even joking), vocal!steve, one (1) degradation (little cockslut), innocence kink (kinda? reader is slightly clueless in some things about sex ngl), unprotected p in v sex (don't try this at home), breeding kink (r is on the pill tho!), steve's Massive Meat Sceptre™️, hickies (and i mean lots of them. steve turns into an Artist™️ lmao), aftercare, morning wood, taking top-naked polaroid photos (it's more sweet than sexual tbh) ~ lemme know if i missed anything! <3

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

Itty Bitty Pretty

You sighed in relief as you crossed the street, somewhat finding a sense of comfort after such a shitty day once you saw the familiar green and orange sign of Family Video—more so, the people you were about to see once you got inside.

Balancing the two boxes of baked goods in one hand, you pulled the door open, quickly noticing the silence of the still broken bell. You rolled your eyes. It had been like that for almost a month now, obvious proof of Keith being too cheap to get something so little fixed.

Entering the premises, you heard Steve first before you even saw him.

"I love boobies—hell, everyone loves boobies more, Robin, it's just facts."

You felt your cheeks warm at your boyfriend's words.

In the six months you've been with Steve—and a few months more of knowing him—he had never been shy when it came to anything remotely sexual. It was expected, you supposed, for someone formerly called King Steve, known to have gone around, leaving girls satisfied enough to share stories and to deem him worthy for them to sing his praises.

Said stories that had been proven true to you by His Majesty himself quite recently.

But still, it never failed to surprise you how loud and open Steve can be when talking about anything sex-related.

Because you, on the other hand, couldn't be more opposite of him.

You wouldn't exactly class yourself as a prude, you were just shy. You simply had a hard time speaking about sexual things out in the open, let alone, loudly in public.

Perhaps it came with the fact that you were inexperienced, that you weren't familiar enough with sex yet to be able to talk about it with confidence and prowess. Maybe, the more you got into it, you'd eventually come out of your shell.

Or perhaps it would simply be a shyness you wouldn't be able to shake off. Maybe you just weren't the kiss-and-tell type of person.

Sure, you talk to Steve about it, but that should be expected and important, him being your partner and all. But the furthest you'd gone to sharing your sexual encounters—which frankly, wasn't a lot and was always disclosed in so little details—was to Robin.

That's it.

Craning your neck, you finally saw that familiar mass of hair sticking out of one of the shelves. But as you were about to walk over to them, Steve's next words froze you on your spot.

"Especially when they're big, round, voluptuous breasts o—"

Oh.

Thwack.

"Ew! Don't be a pig!" Robin interrupted.

"How am I being a pig?!" Steve shrieked. "Right, curse a guy for liking boobs."

"I was just saying they're a bit overrated."

"Overrated?" he scoffed, sounding slightly offended. "You see it in magazines, in movies, on TV—you see boobies everywhere!"

"That's exactly why they're overrated!"

"No, no, it just means statistically, people like boobies more. The demand affects the supply."

"Statistically bullshit, that's what it is."

"Don't tell me you don't like seeing boobs now?"

"I still do!" Robin sighed. "But God forbid a girl wants to see a bit of ass here and there, right?"

"Hmm, I don't know," Steve hummed, and you could almost hear his smirk when he added, "Because there's only one ass I can get behind on."

"Gross!" Robin gagged, another thwack ringing in the air. "That's my best friend!"

"Yeah, and that's my girlfriend!" Steve countered, snorting. "Am I not allowed to appreciate my girl now?"

"Not when you're disclosing details of your sex life, which frankly, I've already heard enough of, sometimes literally," Robin shuddered, your whole face heating up at her words. You and Steve might or might not have gotten slightly busy in the backroom once twice. "Seriously, dude, you're corrupting her."

"I'm not!" Steve laughed, the lightness seeping into his tone. "Besides, I can't deny her if she wants a taste of the Harrington Special Sausa—Ow! Stop hitting me with that magazine!"

"Then stop being gross!"

"There's this thing called a joke, you should try it."

There was a beat of silence.

"Where did you even learn the word voluptuous, anyway?"

"Shut up, I know my big words," Steve scoffed, before grumbling, "I read a thesaurus the other day."

Robin burst out laughing.

"It was a slow day! Henderson left it on the counter and I got bored!"

If it was any other time, you would've found the interaction greatly amusing.

But once your brain picked up on those three words, the rest of their conversation had turned slightly muffled. Those three words simply sat at the forefront of your mind, and they hadn't stopped repeating themselves.

Big. Round. Voluptuous.

You didn't know if Steve meant that was what most people liked generally, or if it was a personal preference. But you did know one thing though:

Those words didn't apply to yours.

"Hey!"

You jumped, eyes wide when you met Steve's gaze, too distracted by your thoughts to even notice him walking up to you.

"You okay?" he asked, brows furrowed in concern, his hands coming up to rub your arms in comfort. "How long have you been standing there?"

"O-Oh, I just got here," you lied with a small smile. "And I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Mm-hmm." You nodded, lifting the boxes with a smile. "I brought you guys your favorites."

"You are a gift!" Robin appeared out of nowhere, taking the boxes from your hands with a loud, smacking kiss on your cheek. You giggled. She turned to Steve, sticking her tongue out before disappearing into the breakroom.

"Real mature!" Steve called out, playfully rolling his eyes. Turning back to you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, a smile on his lips, but the concern was still evident in his eyes. "Now, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is," you said, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips. Before Steve could even deepen the kiss—and judging by his tightening hold and his low groan, he was just about to—you placed a careful hand on his chest, pulling away. "Can I use the bathroom real quick?"

"Yeah, sur—"

You were gone before Steve could even finish his sentence.

The second the bathroom door closed, you peeked at your chest through the collar of your shirt, frowning when you found what you'd already known and been seeing for years.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, head tilted, lips pursed. It was a moment of weakness, grabbing your shirt from behind, pulling the fabric tight to your body only to feel even worse by what you saw.

It wasn't like they'd grown a few inches bigger in the last couple of seconds.

Running a frustrated hand over your face, you sighed, shoulders slumping, frown deepening as your heart ached.

You would think you'd grown a thick skin when it came to things about your breast size. After all, it felt like you'd already heard everything about it in school—from strangers to bullies and even sometimes, friends alike. Mean words in the guise of jokes ranging from, 'where are they?' to calling your chest a chopping board, saying how it's similar to hugging a wall, and so on.

It was ridiculous, truly, people needing to point it out as if you weren't already aware of it yourself, as if you didn't see it every single day, as if you weren't the one they're attached to.

Over time, you'd grown to live with it, reminding yourself that it was more a reflection of their character than it was of yours. Small boobs didn't make you less beautiful. If a person thought otherwise, then you honestly had no time for such shallow minds.

Besides, when someone had something to say about your breast size, insensitive words that would only make you feel insecure about yourself, and even sometimes, have the audacity to compare it to others, then it was more than enough of a reason to chuck them back into the trash. It was a good red-flag-detector if being honest.

Yet now, here you were again.

In your defense, Steve's words simply caught you at the wrong time. You weren't in the greatest mood before you even got here, energy already depleted from work, and a little cloud of sadness had already hung over you since this morning.

Then again, this was Steve.

His opinion mattered so much more to you than some bullies in school who had nothing good going on in their lives.

Granted, Steve had seen you fully naked before, but only once. And that was when you lost your virginity to him. Still, he never showed signs of not liking them, nor had he ever said anything mean about them, not even in a remotely joking way. If your memory serves you right, his eyes practically lit up when he saw them for the first time.

But also, Steve was a good guy. Maybe he did have a preference, he simply didn't outwardly say it to avoid making the wrong impression. Maybe, as bad as it sounds, he was simply settling for what he could get. But you were a people-pleaser—only with people who you cared most about, but still—you didn't want Steve to settle for less of what he preferred. You wanted to give him more of what he deserved.

So what then if you weren't able to give that to him? What then if what you have to offer would start not being enough? 

Or perhaps Steve meant absolutely nothing of it, that he truly didn't care about the size of your boobs. He might've grown up to be quite a shallow person—rich parents, campus heartthrob, star athlete, the King of all jocks, what'd you expect?—but that part of him was long gone now. The Steve you're with now was compassionate, selfless, kind, sweet, had the biggest heart, the most caring boyfriend you could ever ask for, a new and improved great man.

But that didn't stop your brain from thinking the worst.

After all, it was easier to latch onto the negative voices in our heads, no matter if it was true or not.

The next thing you knew, you'd already dug yourself into a hole, filling it up with your insecurities until you were drowning.

It got to a point where you'd been changing the way you were acting around Steve.

You did your best to be subtle, small changes to not make a big deal out of it, to avoid what could be quite an embarrassing conversation if it all comes out into the open.

Not that Steve would ever make you feel bad about your insecurities. He'd been the best at making you feel comfortable and safe about it so far. And there's been quite a considerable amount you'd shared with him. It was mostly involving stuff in the bedroom due to the difference between your skill levels, but still.

It was more, your own fear of being proven right. You were scared to find out that he, in fact, had a preference, and they were far from what you have.

And as the days went by, it was working—well, you thought it was. You simply forgot to put into account one thing:

Your boyfriend was the most attentive person in the world, and then some.

•••

Steve noticed how you'd been acting weird lately.

The first odd thing he encountered was a change in your hugs.

They weren't as tight nor did they last as long anymore. You probably thought he couldn't tell but this was your hugs we were talking about. Of course he could tell. It was as if you were keeping him an inch away now, so little to others but too goddamn far in Steve's opinion.

The second thing was your cuddles, which were mostly the same when it came to your hugs, an inch or two too far.

But whenever he would try to lay on top of you—which you disclosed you always loved, him being your very own warm, weighted blanket—you would always shift away, gently pushing him onto his back so you would be the one who'd lay on his chest. But even then, not quite. Because now, you only went as far as resting your head on his shoulder, arm loosely draped over his stomach with a literal space between you. If Steve could insert a piece of paper between you, then you were too goddamn far.

Something was wrong and it was making Steve worry.

The most he noticed the change, though, was when you two would have sex.

Of course, Steve had been making sure that you were going at your own pace. He had been the one who insisted on taking things slow because you were more inexperienced compared to him. There was no way in hell he'd make you feel pressured, would not even risk nudging you close to your boundaries.

He cared about you too much.

But it wasn't that.

You still had that eagerness in you, the same one that's always been present even before you finally did the deed, the same one that got dialed up after you got your taste. Steve could confidently say that you were just as needy, if not, needier for him than ever before.

The way you'd give him that look every chance you got, your fingers skating across his thigh whenever you'd go for a drive, the way you'd nose his jaw, kiss the back of his ear, your little tells he'd grown to memorize—it was more than enough proof you still wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

It was when his hands would so much as graze the hem of your shirt that he'd notice something. It would be a split second where you'd flinch, and then the second after that, you'd take his hands and interlace your fingers together.

At first, he thought you simply wanted to hold his hand during it, a gesture so intimate, so adorable, so sweet, something that was just so you. It made Steve's heart grow softer, his dick swelling a little bit harder.

But then it kept happening, again, and again, and again and only when his hands would come anywhere near the area around your chest.

Maybe you'd grown not to like being touched there anymore, which was perfectly and utterly fine with him.

Your comfort and safety were always a top priority before his own pleasure.

But his gut was telling him something was up, and so far, it never once had wronged him.

Other than that, and God he really didn't want to sound like such a guy, more or less, a whiny baby but—

Steve missed your boobs.

Sure, he'd only seen them once—and by 'seen them' he meant, in all their bare and gorgeous glory—but once was more than enough to have him already obsessed.

Besides, Steve liked to think he had a photographic memory—well, when it came to you, anyway.

But recently, you'd been adamant about keeping your shirt on whenever you two got on with it.

Okay, there were other factors as to why that could be.

His parents were home for the week, and Steve had been avoiding the place like the plague. Waking up early to coming home late to avoid crossing paths with either of them. He could sneak you in, but Steve would rather not deal with the scrutiny of his asshole father and risk having you get caught in the crossfire. Besides, your schedule at the bakery and his hours at Family Video did not coincide. It would end with Steve leaving you in his room early in the morning and he would never let you face his parents alone.

Your own house was a no-go with how nosily toxic your mother was when it came to your privacy. A closed door warranted entering without as much as a knock, what more, a locked one? With what you'd told Steve about her so far, he wouldn't be surprised if she kept a spare key to your room in her pocket at all times.

It was why you'd been taking extra shifts to save enough money so you could finally move out of the place. And secretly, Steve had been doing the same in the hopes that you two could move in together—if you wanted to, of course.

Premature? Probably. After all, you'd only been together for half a year. But Steve would do anything to make you happy and keep you safe. And if that meant helping you out of that house quicker? Then moving too fast be damned. Hell, if it was up to him, he'd already be paying half the rent of an apartment even if he was giving you the whole place to yourself.

Head over heels? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Besides, if you know, you know.

But the point was—and Steve's a bit embarrassed to admit this purely because you deserved so much better—you mostly had only done quickies in the backseat of his car. So there hadn't been enough time for the both of you to get fully naked.

Steve hadn't had the chance again to take all the time and properly shower you with affection, praise, and—he had yet to say this out loud but it always burned in his heart every time he looked at you—the love that you rightfully deserved.

But still, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head saying that something was stopping you from baring yourself to him again.

Obviously, not seeing your boobs for a while wasn't the end of the world—it was in Steve's, to be completely honest—but it was worrying him that he might've done something that made you feel uncomfortable and he didn't catch it during the moment. Even worse if he'd let it simmer for days without doing anything to reassure it.

But Steve was sure he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary, hadn't changed anything at all, much less tried something you two hadn't done before. You didn't have any trouble letting him know about things you didn't like, either. Even then, you were such an open book, expressive. Whatever you were feeling, Steve could usually tell right away with one look at your face—a purse of your lips, a scrunch of your nose, a crinkle between your brows, a twinkle in your eyes.

He was also confident enough in the fact that you were comfortable around him already. He'd not been short at reassuring you that you could tell him anything.

So maybe it wasn't a big deal.

Until it happened again.

•••

It's been absolute bliss.

The house was left to Steve once again, and obviously, he'd taken advantage of the empty space right away.

It's even more bliss that this wonderful Sunday was both your days off.

You slept over last night, and Steve had woken up to the sight of your beautiful face in the morning. It was made even better when you two got to sleep in, staying in bed for longer with no rush getting up. You made out for what felt like hours, lips numb but hearts warmer. The only reason you stopped was because you got hungry to the point where Steve managed to hear your stomach grumbling.

It was almost domestic bliss when the two of you tried to cook brunch together. Huge emphasis on tried. Because when Steve ended up eating something on the kitchen counter that wasn't particularly food—it was the best dessert, though—you two decided to order pizza instead.

Now, you'd both agreed on a lazy afternoon, huddled up in Steve's bed, warm blankets, warmer bodies, planning on burning through whatever VHS tape he had at your disposal.

The movie was barely even out of its sleeve and it was already long forgotten.

Because it was absolutely fucking bliss having you sat prettily on his lap, whining and moaning as you rubbed your barely clothed cunt over his hard cock that was hidden underneath his boxers.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, throwing his head back against the headboard when you started to add a little bounce to your movement.

Steve was letting you have your fun, to see what it was like being on top since it was one of the many things you hadn't done before.

Most people call it teaching, Some call it training, others call it corrupting.

You called it practice.

Steve liked that better.

And as always, it was at your own pace, slow and careful, sometimes nervous, but definitely absolute fucking torture.

It was like you were teasing him, bringing him oh so close only for your hips to stutter and unfortunately, stop for a few seconds, wiggle on your seat with a whine for a couple more, before starting up again.

You were honestly edging him to the brink of insanity.

The catch? You weren't doing it on purpose.

You were practicing, after all, testing out the angles, which direction to circle your hips, if grinding or bouncing was better, and how hard it was you needed to press yourself on him. You were trying to work out what feels good for you and—like the angel that you are—what feels good for him too.

But fuck, and not to toot his own horn, but Steve genuinely admired his patience. Because the number of times he had to stop himself from flipping you over and fucking you into next week was far too many to even count.

Steve didn't know how long you'd been humping him, using him for your own (and his) pleasure like he was your personal toy. But judging by how fucking wet you were, so much to the point that you'd already soaked through your panties and his boxers—it was long enough.

He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you away from where you'd been hiding your face on his shoulder and bringing you in for a bruising kiss.

Licking into your mouth, he started rutting his hips up to meet yours, his grip on your ass tightening when he felt the vibrations of your moan against his lips. One particularly hard thrust had you pulling away with a gasp.

He didn't let you get too far as his firm hand gripped your jaw. Tilting your head to the side, his mouth was quick to attach to your warm skin, kissing, nibbling, sucking, trailing further down, in need to taste more.

Steve groaned in frustration when his lips met the collar of the oversized shirt you wore.

"Need this off, baby," he whispered, fingers carefully tugging at the hem.

And just like before, you froze.

He didn't even need to ask where your hands were going when you removed them from his shoulders. Because in the next second, your fingers were already intertwined with his.

"Can I keep it on?" you asked, tone shy, smile soft, but your eyes—there were hints of worry in them, maybe even fear.

Steve sighed, bringing your hands up to his lips, kissing each knuckle to the insides of your wrists. He placed each of your palms flat against his cheeks as his fingers curled around your hips. He looked at you knowingly, his smile all the more reassuring as his thumb rubbed comforting circles over your clothed waist.

"Wanna tell me what's up?"

The way you averted your eyes was enough to confirm that something was definitely going on.

"What do you mean?"

"Baby, I know we've only had sex a handful of times," he said, tilting his head. "But that doesn't mean I don't notice that something's changed."

You frowned at that, hands falling to rest on your lap before you started picking at your nails. Steve was quick to cover them with his own, stopping your nervous fiddling with a reassuring squeeze.

"It's just—" You scrunched up your face, shaking your head before you hung it low, grumbling, "It's nothing."

Steve frowned. "Doesn't seem like it's nothing."

"It's stupid," you breathed out.

"Hey, it's definitely not if it's bothering you," he reassured, dipping his head to try and catch your gaze. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

There was a moment of silence, but Steve could see that you were thinking about it. So he waited, hands squeezing yours from time to time, making you aware that he was here, and you could talk to him, but also, there was no rush.

"I—" A deep breath, before you continued, "I overheard you and Robin talking about a week and a half ago about, uhm..." you paused, eyes everywhere else but on him. "Boobies."

Steve blushed.

"God, did I really sound like such a pig?" he asked with an embarrassed smile. Though, if you were acting this way because of what you heard, then maybe he did sound like such a pig and it made you feel uncomfortable enough to change your habits. "Sweetheart, I swear, it's nothing like that, I was just—"

You shook your head fervently. "No, no, It's not that—well, not really."

Confusion filled him up then.

"Then, what's wrong?"

"You said you love boobs—"

"I mean, yeah." He smiled at you sheepishly, and there was no doubt his cheeks were as red as they were going to get.

"But you love…" your voice dropped to a whisper, "Certain types of boobs."

Steve's brows furrowed. "I don't think I understand."

Okay, he might seem a tad bit slow here. But in his defense, he couldn't find fault in loving boobies. It was normal, right? He was a man, after all. Even then, everyone loves them.

So, what was wrong with it?

As if you read his mind, you spoke up, "There's nothing wrong with liking boobs, obviously. But mine aren't like, you know," you sighed, waving your hands. "They don't look like the ones in the movies or-or, magazines and stuff."

"Yeah...they don't," Steve slowly agreed. It was something he already knew, obviously. He'd seen your boobs and he'd also seen the ones on screen. There was a difference. But still, what was wrong with that? "I still don't see what the problem is here, sweetheart."

"Mine's—" you groaned, eyes screwed shut, your frustration obvious. Then, your whole body deflated, voice defeated as you gestured at your chest,

"There's not much there."

It took Steve a moment.

Mainly because he thought, in pure honesty, your boobs were perfect.

It took him a moment to grasp the fact that they were perfect only to him, and that you didn't share the same thought. You didn't view them as such.

It also took him a moment trying to remember what his exact words were, mind a bit fuzzy about the things he'd said that you might've taken the wrong way.

Then it hit him.

"Especially when they're big, round, voluptuous breasts o—"

Oh.

"You think I won't like your boobs because they're on…the smaller side?"

You nodded, pouting as you let out a shaky breath, body slumping as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck.

"Hey, nuh uh, look at me," he said softly, gently pulling you away from your hiding spot. He held your face in his hands, heart aching when he saw your glossed-up eyes, tears threatening to spill as you bit your bottom lip to stop them from trembling. Steve asked worriedly, "Did I make you feel that way?"

He silently cursed Robin for interrupting him that day. Because if she hadn't, then Steve would've been able to list other traits of boobs he liked which would've been the opposite of what he had said. He would've been able to continue the or part. 

But most importantly, he would've been able to rave about how yours were his favorite of them all.

"N-No, uhm, not really. But when I heard you say what you said I just thought, you know, you'd like them better if they looked like…uhm, the way you described or similar to the movies or just—" you paused, taking a deep, shaky breath before finally saying, "Typically, guys just like it when they're…bigger."

Steve frowned.

That couldn't have been farther from the truth—to him, at least.

You misunderstood what he had said. Then again, he hadn't been great at wording it, either, nor did he get to say his whole piece.

Because Steve did love boobies, but not bigger boobies, not smaller boobies, just...boobies. He honestly couldn't care less what shape or size they were, as long as he gets to see boobies, then he's a happy guy.

The happiest when it's yours, though.

"First off, and I don't want to sound cliché here, but I'm not like your typical guy," he said, his smile teasing yet soft as he took your hands in his. "Second, when I said, I love boobies, I meant, all boobies, doesn't matter to me what size they are. Robin just didn't let me finish my sentence. If she had, I would've ranted about how much I fucking love your boobies and I would've gotten smacked with a magazine more."

You cracked a smile, though Steve felt his heart pang when it was gone only a second later.

It was obvious you didn't believe him.

"I mean it," he added. "I'm not just saying this just because."

"No, I know, it's just," you sighed, frown deep, eyes trained on your intertwined hands. "You said it yourself, Steve, how most people like what they see on screen, you included. And mine are just—they look nothing like them."

"Okay, yeah, the ones they show in the movies or on TV or magazines, a lot of them look bigger and rounder, whatever. That doesn't automatically mean they're better or prettier, definitely not compared to yours. Boobies are boobies, they all come in different shapes and sizes and they're all pretty. Any guy should feel lucky to even just get the chance to just see them," he sincerely said, hands cupping your face, thumb caressing your cheeks to urge you to look at him. He smiled brightly when you did. "And yours? Yours just happen to be the prettiest in my eyes."

Your bottom lip went, voice soft and a little shaky, "You're just saying that."

Steve shook his head, kissing your pout away before giving you a genuine smile. "I honestly think you have no idea how obsessed I am with your boobs."

"You're not," you insisted, head dipping to try and hide again. But Steve gently kept you in place, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"Oh, but I am, you want to know why?" It was rhetoric, you knew it was. But still, you nodded shyly, and Steve immediately delivered, "One, because they're genuinely so pretty to me. And two, they're yours. They're attached to the person who I'm honestly so head over heels for. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and that doesn't change when it comes to your boobs."

You looked at him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips as you sniffled, and then, a soft giggle, "That's weirdly romantic."

"Look who you're talking to, babe, weirdly romantic is my thing," he scoffed, teasingly rolling his eyes, his heart melting when you giggled again, much louder this time. But still, he could see that the apprehension didn't leave your eyes. "I wished you believed me though."

You sighed, your smile turning small, apologetic.

"Hey, it's okay. We all have insecurities, and they don't just go away overnight," he quickly reassured you before you could even think to say sorry. "But, for what it's worth, I'm going to keep telling you how pretty they are until it sticks."

You nodded, leaning closer to kiss him warmly, sweetly, before whispering against his lips, "It's worth a lot."

Steve hummed, thumb caressing your jaw as he tilted his head, kissing you a little deeper.

"I'm sorry I made you think that way, sweetheart," he said once he pulled away.

"It's okay," you hummed, brushing your lips against his with a small, reassuring smile. "You didn't mean to."

"How about I show you how much I'm obsessed with them?" he suggested, kissing the tip of your nose, once more on your forehead, and lastly, adoringly, on your lips, hands rubbing your arms affectionately. "If you'll let me."

Steve would've happily obliged if you had refused. And he thought you were just about to when you leaned back, putting some space between you both.

But then, you started playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up an inch or two before stopping.

"Baby, there's no pressure," he said, squeezing your thighs. "You can keep it on, I won't mind."

But you shook your head, silently saying it wasn't that. And then, you asked,

"Can you close your eyes first, please?"

Steve did so without question.

He felt you shift slightly on his lap, his thumbs caressing soft circles on your bare thighs. There was a pause, then a nervous breath. Steve ran his palms up and down your skin to reassure you. A second later, he heard the rustling of your shirt, shortly after, the sound of the fabric landing on the floor.

His grip tightened.

Still, he kept his eyes shut, waiting with bated breath.

Steve heard you sigh, and then ever so gently, you took his hands, warm palms close together, his thumbs instinctively drawing circles on your skin. Squeezing, you said,

"You can open your eyes now."

With a deep breath, he did, following your instruction carefully as he kept his gaze on your face.

You said he could open his eyes, you didn't say he could look yet.

Besides, the nerves were evident on your features—teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, eyes on his only fleetingly before looking away—that he didn't want to push you too far, too fast.

Steve was going to do his absolute best to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible in his presence. And small, careful steps were usually the best way to go about it.

"Whenever you're ready," he whispered, squeezing your hand.

Only when you gave him a small nod of consent did he look down and—

Steve involuntarily moaned at the sight of them, his cock twitching in his boxers, a fresh bead of precum pooling at the tip.

Fuck.

Even he didn't know that he missed them this badly.

"Kinda hate you for denying me of this pretty sight for too fucking long now," he grumbled, no heat in his tone, even when he shot you a teasing glare. His heart quickened as he let his eyes drink up more of the absolute beauty that sat before him. "I mean, look at them."

"Sorry," you murmured, smiling shyly, body slowly relaxing under his gaze. Your fingers loosened around his before you took his hands and placed them on your bare waist, skin to skin. And fuck, you were so warm to the touch it was making his chest burn.

Steve smiled affectionately when you wrapped your nimble fingers around his wrists, slowly pushing his hands up and up, stopping just on your ribs. With a smile, you let him go, as if you were handing him all your trust from now on.

The thought made his heart skip.

"S'okay, baby," he breathed out, thumbs skimming just underneath the swell of your breasts, so close, but not touching. Not yet. "You're letting me see now. That's more than making it up for it."

"Do you really like them?" you asked timidly, a little worried.

"Like them?" Steve scoffed, slightly offended. "I'm fucking in love with them."

You grew even shier at that but didn't do anything to cover up. If anything, he saw your shoulders fully relax, back arching towards him slightly, a little more confident.

Steve took that as a good sign.

"Can I touch?"

"Yeah," you sighed, biting at your bottom lip, nodding, whispering out a soft, "Want you to feel them."

Fuck.

You were going to be the death of him.

Which would probably happen any second now judging by how much you were already killing him when you've done absolutely nothing.

So Steve didn't waste any more time.

He lightly ran his fingers over them, carefully at first. He couldn't help but revel in the way you shivered, adding a little pressure when you started leaning closer to him, needing more.

"Beautiful," he gushed, running his thumb over your nipples, groaning when they started to harden under his touch. "Gorgeous." He covered them with his palms, his breath hitching when they felt perfect in his hold just like he remembered they would, his fingers squeezing, kneading them delicately. "So fucking pretty."

"Steve," you sighed, your eyes fluttering shut, head lolling to the side. You absentmindedly arched your back, pressing onto him more, your hands on his shoulders to help steady yourself.

"Can't believe you dared to talk badly about my babies."

You snorted, eyebrow raised when you looked at him again. "Your babies?"

"Yeah, well, since you don't like them and aren't showing them the love they deserve, I'm going to do it myself. So, they're mine now," he teased, leaning forward. But before he could let his lips touch your skin, he stopped. "Wait, hold on."

He reached over his bedside table, rummaging around his drawer until his fingers felt the familiar, thin, metal frames. He put them on, quickly turning back to you.

"Okay, how the fuck," Steve gasped, hands going back to where they were before, where he was sure they belonged, holding your beautiful boobs. He looked up to meet your confused gaze, his mouth open, eyes widening a tad bit more for extra dramatics as he gushed, "They got even prettier!"

You threw your head back, laughing that lovely laugh of yours, and his heart might as well have jumped out of his chest and landed on the palm of your hand.

Steve was sure it did.

"You're too much," you said, giggling, pushing back the hairs that landed on his forehead before adjusting his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

"You're too much," he grumbled, slowly leaning closer. "Can't fucking handle how gorgeous you are."

You shook your head, laughing when he all but smushed his face on your chest.

"God I missed you," he whispered against your boob, earning another giggle from you, the sound replaced with a gasp when he started mouthing around it, suckling gently on the warm flesh. His kisses moved across the valley to show the other one affection as well. "And you, obviously."

"Think they missed you too," you hummed, breath hitching when he swirled his tongue over your nipple, fingers playing with your other boob. He made sure to be overly generous with his kisses, light and affectionate to fervently hungry, leaving marks on his wake, groaning in response to your sweet moan.

"And of course—" He pulled away after a moment, cupping the back of your neck, smiling brightly as he met your eyes. "I missed you."

You shook your head, leaning forward to kiss him, only to stop when you nudged his glasses, making them sit wonkily on his face. He groaned, taking them off and placing them back on his bedside table.

"But I like them on you," you complained, pouting.

"I don't know if that's a new kink I've unlocked," he teased, bringing you back into him, grinning once his lips touched yours. "But I'd rather not poke your eye out."

You giggled against the kiss, shaking your head, "You said you missed me?"

"So fucking bad," he sighed, licking into your mouth only for you to pull away slightly.

"But we've been together the whole day," you hummed, eyes twinkling, your breath fanning over his lips.

"And?" he grumbled, holding your face still with his fingers, gently pressing your cheeks together until your lips were forming a small O. "Now will you please let me fucking kiss you properly?"

You nodded, eyes crinkling as you laughed.

Steve lurched forward, tongue immediately slipping into your mouth, chuckling when you squeaked.

It didn't take long for your lips to fall into a rhythm, his tongue dancing with yours, coaxing sighs and pretty little whines. His fingers wandered up your waist until he was cupping a boob in each hand. You sighed into the kiss, moaning when he started circling your nipples with his thumbs. You pulled away with a gasp when he pinched them lightly.

Steve kissed your jaw then, trailing down your neck, nipping at the spots that had you whimpering against him. His hands continued their ministrations, featherlight, teasing touches to one with a firmer grip, a different one for each boob as his lips reached your collarbone.

Looking at you through his lashes, he took your tit in his mouth, covering as much as he could. Then, he started sucking.

Your hand flew onto the back of his head, mewling loudly as you tangled your fingers into his hair. His eyes fluttered close, groaning when you pulled at his strands, getting a moan in response when you felt the vibrations of his sounds. One hand on your ass, the free one groped your other boob, rolling your nipple between his fingers, making sure it was getting the love it deserved, too.

Your hips bucked against his when he started swirling his tongue around your nipple, flicking the hard nub before pulling away with a pop. Steve teasingly blew cold air on your wet skin, chuckling when you shivered before he switched sides. 

His free hand found your hip, encouraging you to move, growling into your skin when you started grinding on him at a steady pace.

It was overwhelming.

The sensation of having your clothed cunt rubbing over his hard cock paired with the feeling of your warm tit in his mouth, it was quickly rushing to his head.

Carefully, gently, he rolled your nipple between his lips, lightly tugging it with his teeth.

Your body lurched forward with a squeak, stuttering his name out when he soothed it with his tongue. Arms tightly wounding around his shoulders, you rested your chin on top of his head, unknowingly smothering him closer to your chest.

And Steve was in fucking heaven.

He didn't know how long he was making out with your tits, fingers playing with the other that wasn't in his mouth.

But fuck, he didn't want to stop.

Not when you were making the prettiest sounds for him, your whole chest vibrating with each loud moan, each whimper and whine, spluttering his name over and over, the only broken record he'd beg to listen to.

Not when you'd press harder against his cock, nails digging into his shoulders in a deliciously painful way, fingers tugging at his hair, writhing on his lap as he mouthed and groped and sucked, licking and pinching—switch and repeat.

He was humming in satisfaction like he was licking up ice cream on a hot summer's day. He was muttering against your skin like he was praying in a church, whispering all the sweet praises of how beautiful they were. Or you could say he was confessing all his sins as he groaned absolute obscenities of the things he wanted to do to them—like using them as a canvas for something that wasn't paint.

Steve didn't know how long he spent pressed against your chest. But honestly, he didn't fucking care.

And he would've gone on for even longer if you hadn't gently tapped his cheek, three times, signaling him to stop.

He let go with a soft pop, a string of his spit connecting your nipple and his lips, your skin glistening from the wetness.

Steve's dick twitched at the sight.

Blinking away the haze, he looked at you with dark eyes, his chest heaving, voice hoarse, "What's wrong?"

You didn't say anything. Instead, you took his hand and guided it between your legs.

Steve chuckled darkly, gently tugging his wrist off your hold, placing his palm flat on your thigh, squeezing in warning, "Sweetheart, we've talked about this."

"Hurts," you whined, forehead landing on his shoulder as your hips jerked forward. 

"Aww no, your pussy hurts?" he cooed, cupping your face and urging you to look at him. And as he expected, your pout was already in full play when he met your wide, doe eyes. He mocked the gesture, jutting his lip out. "It's not getting enough attention?"

"No," you breathed out, shaking your head, blinking at him innocently. 

"Then ask."

Your shoulders slumped slightly, pout turning more prominent. But then, you leaned closer, brushing the tip of your nose with his adorably, your eyes darkening as you so sweetly asked,

"Need your fingers please, Stevie."

How could he say no to that?

"See, that wasn't so hard," he hummed appreciatively, one hand on your cheek, tilting your head for a kiss as the other moved to cup your heat.

Steve moaned.

Because holy fucking shit you were throbbing. He could actually feel your clit pulsating against his palm.

"You enjoyed that so much, huh?" he hummed against your lips, swallowing your lewd moan as he pressed his thumb on your swollen bud. "Like it when I suck on your tits, don't you, baby?"

You nodded in haste, eyes shut tight, panting against his lips as you moved against his finger yourself. You were unconsciously doing the work as he kept his hand still, too impatient to realize, so desperately needy to care.

It was adorable.

"Oh yeah you do," Steve chuckled, moving to flatten his palm against your heat, squeezing. Your hips stuttered to a stop with a choked moan. He pushed your soaked underwear to the side, teasing his finger into your hole only to throw his head back with a groan, "Jesus Christ, you're fucking dripping."

"S-Steve," you mewled, looking like you were so close to tears if he didn't do anything soon.

He was almost tempted to.

"I know, pretty girl, I know," he hummed, turning his head to kiss your temple before inserting two fingers into your weeping hole, sliding in so easily. "Shit, there you go."

He couldn't stop his chuckle when you didn't even wait for him to move his hand. Despite it being slightly unsure—this was your first time taking his fingers this way, after all—the neediness was evident as you rocked your hips against his digits.

"So desperate," he hummed, free hands cupping your tit, rolling his palm over your nipple which had you keening against him. "I mean, look at you, so needy, so pretty fucking yourself on my fingers."

"Steve," you moaned, eyes screwed shut as your forehead landed on his. "O-One more."

He felt his head spin.

You'd only ever done two before.

"Yeah?" He curled his fingers, grinning when he earned a whine. "Sure you can take it?"

"Y-Yeah," you whimpered, nodding repeatedly. "I can take it, p-please, Stevie, n-need more, please."

He could never say no when you beg him like that.

"Okay, okay, now stay still."

Steve gave you what you wanted, your grip on his shoulders vice-like, moans short and breathy as he slowly eased another finger into you. He grabbed your ass with his free hand, squeezing, urging you to move.

You managed to grind on it once, twice, five times. But when Steve curled his fingers, you clenched around it hard, your hips suddenly stuttering, legs twitching, head thrown back as loud, broken moans spilled out of your lips.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he watched you fall apart before him, a wave of arousal gushing out of you, coating his fingers and dripping onto his palm.

You came out of nowhere and it caught you both off guard.

"Shit—fuck," you choked out a sob, forehead on his, eyes teary. "S-Steve, Steve."

"It's okay, you're okay, just ride it out," he cooed, aiding you through your orgasm with gentle strokes, whispering over and over, "That's it, I got you, did so, so good."

He stopped when you shook your head, thighs tightening around his hand, whimpering when he slowly pulled his fingers out. He brought them into his mouth, sucking them clean with a content hum, your half-lidded, curious eyes blinking at him.

"Maybe what you eat does affect it," he hummed, smacking his lips. "Tastes like watermelon."

He chuckled when you whined, hiding your face against the crook of his neck as your arms snaked around his shoulders.

He turned his head slightly, rubbing his cheek on your temple as he murmured, "You good, sweetheart?"

"Didn't mean to," you whispered, your frown evident as you hugged him tighter.

"I know," he said, chuckling softly, hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. "It's okay. It happens, especially when it's just so good."

You nodded in agreement, giggling. You emerged out of your hiding spot, giving him chaste kisses on the lips as your hand traveled down. "Your turn?"

"Babe, wait—fuck," he groaned, hips involuntarily jutting up into your palm. He hastily pulled your hand away, shaking his head. He was going to bust too soon if you keep going. "I need to be inside you or I'm going to fucking lose it."

You nodded eagerly.

His grip on your waist tightened when you started lifting yourself off of him. He shook his head, smiling at you knowingly.

"Want you to ride me, baby," he hummed, hands gripping your waist, slowly pulling you closer and then pressing you down on his cock. He groaned, "Fuck, want to see all of you properly." 

Your eyes widened. "But I don't know how—"

"I'm going to teach you. I always do." He moved closer, brushing his lips against yours with a reassuring smile, hand cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the warm skin affectionately. "And you've been practicing. It's not much different with my fingers."

"But it is because you're going to feel it too," you said, always taking him into account. Such a sweet girl. "What if I'm going to be bad at it?"

"You won't be," he reassured, kissing your jaw before pulling away to get a good look at you. "Because so far? You've been a goddamn natural."

You started nibbling on your bottom lip, so obviously thinking. And when your apprehension didn't lessen, he quickly added with a warm smile, "Hey, no pressure. You don't have to if—"

"No!" you protested a little too loudly. Steve bit his cheek to stop a smirk, his heart melting when your voice started to grow shy again, "I-I want to. It's just—"

You were nervous.

Steve could tell purely because you always got like this whenever you'd try something new. It wasn't so much that you didn't want to do it that was making you nervous, it was the fact that you did want to do it, but you want to do it well.

It was the people pleaser in you, or in this case, boyfriend pleaser. Or maybe it was the perfectionist. Either way, you always ended up being too hard on yourself.

Being inexperienced, you told him you didn't want to disappoint him, that you wanted to be able to please him just as, if not better compared to the ones before you. You wanted to be good enough for him, even though he'd already assured you countless times that nobody else could even come close to how you make him feel.

Nobody could ever hold a candle to you.

Besides, no one turned into an immediate sex god after the first time doing it. Much like everything else, it came with the eagerness to actually learn and enhance your skills or, in your words, practice. 

And yes, he was speaking from experience.

With that said, though, he also couldn't stop you if you so badly wanted to be good for him.

To be his good girl.

Steve's dick twitched at the thought.

If only you knew just how much you make him feel so good by doing so little.

Like now.

Squirming on his lap, thighs rubbing together, pouting all cute but your eyes darkened with lust, it was more than enough to make him feel a little dizzy.

It also gave him an idea.

"Want to practice some more by riding my thigh?"

The way your eyes widened yet twinkled, lips parting as you slowly blinked at him, sweet innocence laced with fervent hunger—Steve knew that look all too well.

"Yeah, you want that? Of course, you do. Don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at me when I wear my good old, school gym shorts, baby," he chuckled darkly, hands trailing up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh before he hooked his fingers on the hem of your underwear. "Off."

You didn't need to be told twice.

The ruined fabric was thrown with the other clothes that littered across his bedroom floor. Spreading his legs slightly, he grabbed your hips, guiding you to straddle one thigh.

Your breath hitched as you sat on the muscle, Steve groaning at the mere feeling of your cunt, so warm and so fucking wet on his skin.

He leaned back against the headboard to get a good view. Taking your hands, he kissed the insides of your wrists before placing your palms flat on his chest, keeping you sitting upright, no more hiding.

And fuck, what a sight.

"So pretty," he gushed, running his hands up and down your forearms. You shook your head, eyelids screwing shut, face scrunched up. He tutted, "Hey, none of that. Let me see you, come on."

You opened your eyes with a pout, whimpering slightly when he flexed his thigh under you.

"You can move, baby," he hummed, nodding encouragingly.

The moan you let out at the first rock of your hips went straight to his dick.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip around your wrists tightening slightly, absolutely taken by the way you were grinding on his thigh, his skin glistening more and more with each back and forth. "That's it, pretty girl—fuck, love it when you make a mess."

You moaned, hips moving even faster, head thrown back in pleasure. 

Steve's eyes fell on your chest, a deep groan vibrating in the back of his throat as he watched your tits move in sync with each snap of your hips.

He shook his head in awe, pushing himself off the headboard to wrap his arms around your torso, his mouth immediately attaching to your boob.

You lost your rhythm, hips faltering for a moment when he started suckling on your tit, fingers rolling the other.

He gripped your waist with one hand, guiding you back and forth, urging you to keep going. And you did, hands on his shoulders for support as you slowly gained back your momentum.

Steve switched sides, flicking his tongue on the hardened nub, wrapping his lips around it, sucking, moaning, and then going back to flicking. One hand groped your chest, and the other found your ass, digging his fingers into the flesh to aid your movements, flexing his thigh to meet your thrust.

You keened, gripping his shoulders so tight, surely leaving your own marks.

"Holy fuck," he groaned, forehead pressing against your chest as his gaze fell onto your cunt, loudly squelching and tightly squeezing on his thigh. "Can feel you fucking clenching, sweetheart."

"S-So good, feel so good, Stevie," you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair, guiding his face back onto your chest. "Please don't stop, want your mouth, please."

Steve growled and didn't even waste a second to do as you asked. 

And he was all over you.

Open mouth kisses to ones with tongue and teeth, his lips moving around the whole expanse of your chest, leaving calculated marks, making sure there was no space left untouched.

Both his hands were wandering your body, fingers scratching down your back, palms pawing at your ass, squeezing your thighs, hands running up your stomach to then grope at your breasts, just needing to feel every. single. inch. of your warm skin he could reach.

Steve was everywhere, but nowhere at the same time. He was so close to you, but not close enough.

Because he fucking needed to be inside you.

And the way you were pulsing against his thigh, clenching around nothing, coating his skin with your slick, it only made him even more desperate to feel that fucking cunt around his cock.

But you beat him to it before he could even ask.

"Stevie?" you whimpered, hips stuttering, slowing.

"Hmm?" He lifted his head from your chest, hand finding your jaw, stopping your head from lolling back so you could keep your gaze on him. It took you a moment to blink away the haze clouding your eyes, still gasping, still fucking his thigh. He hummed again, gripping your jaw tighter to get you to focus. "What'd you want?"

"N-Need more," you panted, eyes fluttering close. "Please."

"More what?" he returned, lightly tapping your ass.

Your hand immediately cupped his dick, squeezing, telling him exactly what you wanted.

Steve hissed, shaking his head, spanking you a little harder, making you whine. He warned, "Words, sweetheart, come on."

There was no hesitation this time.

"Want your cock now."

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned, nodding before he tapped your thigh, urging you to lift yourself up so he could pull his boxers off, throwing them haphazardly on the floor.

Steve will never get tired of the look on your face every time you see his cock, hard and leaking just for you. 

"Come here," he hummed, snapping you out of your trance, offering both his hands to you. He sat you down on his stomach, knees on either side of him. "It's going to feel a little different than when you're lying down. So it's okay if you can't take it all the way right now. We stop if it gets too much."

You shook your head, brows furrowed, eager and determined. "I can take it."

"I'm sure you can, baby," he hummed, not doubting your drive to actually do it. But, he wasn't exactly the easiest size to take, especially not when it's your first time being on top. "But we need to go slow, okay?"

You nodded. He shot you a look.

"Okay."

"Good girl," he praised, pulling you in for a sweet, adoring kiss, a stark contrast to the sharp moan you let out at the pet name. He chuckled, tapping your thigh. "Now up."

You did as told, shuffling on your knees before sitting back, your ass resting on his thighs. You watched him patiently, wide doe-eyes twinkling with your hands on your lap, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for further instructions.

So fucking cute.

You innocently moved as he beckoned closer, signaling you to stop once you were hovering just over his throbbing length.

Then, he offered you his open palm, chuckling when you tilted your head, confused.

"Wet my hand for me?" he asked.

Your eyes widened in realization, nodding as you gently curled your fingers around his wrist.

Steve fully expected you to spit on it, maybe even lick it, just like the times he'd taught you before.

But then, catching him completely off guard. you guided it towards your pussy instead.

Steve moaned as you scooped up your slick for him, his hand now wet and glistening. He hissed as he wrapped it around his girth, moaning and shuddering as he moved fingers, giving himself relief after what felt like hours of being too fucking hard for comfort.

"You're adorable but fuck me you're a little devil too, huh?" he gasped, reveling in the way you were practically drooling as you watched him stroke himself, his hand gliding over his length so easily due to your cum. "It fucking drives me insane."

"Steve," you whined, teeth nibbling at your lip, thighs rubbing together.

He chuckled darkly, one hand finding your hip and urging you closer, holding his cock upright for you with the other.

"All yours, sweetheart."

You both moaned in each other's mouths the second his tip touched your entrance.

Perhaps it was a rookie mistake and you just didn't know any better. Or perhaps you were simply too eager and too drunk from lust that his fair warnings were all fogged up in your head. But all of a sudden, you pushed yourself down, way too fast.

You winced.

"Hey, easy," he reprimanded, gripping your hips to bring you to a stop, pulling you forward to sit you back on his stomach. "What did I just tell you?"

"S-Sorry, I just—want it so bad," you whimpered, absentmindedly dragging your cunt over his happy trail, soaking up the hairs with your slick.

Steve tried not to moan at the sight.

Another time.

"I know you do," he said, cupping your face, brushing his thumb under your eye. Your waterline was starting to fill up, a sign of your frustration Steve knew too well. "And you and I both know you're gonna get it no matter because you're my fucking spoiled girl, aren't you?"

You nodded, sniffling with a pout, "Yeah."

"So don't be greedy. You're gonna hurt yourself if you're impatient," he said firmly, tapping your thigh encouragingly, wrapping his fingers around his cock with a hiss as he held it up for you. "Now, go again, slowly."

You eagerly positioned yourself over his tip once more, hands gripping his shoulders for support. And then, you sunk on him, carefully this time, gentle, so fucking tight.

It was so hard for Steve to keep his eyes open, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched your cunt slowly but oh so sweetly wrap around his length.

"That's it, easy, sweetheart, t-that's it," he panted, muscles tensing as he forced his hips to stay planted on the mattress. "Taking me so so well, that's a good girl—fuck!"

You clenched around his tip with a choked moan, and goddammit you already felt like heaven and he wasn't even fully in yet.

"Okay?" Steve breathed out, chest heaving as he drew reassuring circles on your hips. 

"More."

He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling, "Then take more, sweetheart."

Steve swore sharply when you did, cunt fluttering as you sunk down on him further, your breathy moans fanning against his face as you rested your forehead against his.

Then you stopped, fingers digging into his shoulders, eyes screwing shut as you whimpered, "Steve, n-need—"

"I got you, baby, I got you," he hummed, licking his thumb before finding the swollen bud between your legs, rubbing gentle circles that had you keening.

A chorus of expletives spilled out of Steve's mouth as you opened up for him more, pretty pussy slowly taking him in inch by delicious inch, dripping so much that he could feel your warm slick coat him down to the base of his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so fucking tight," he moaned, eyes screwing shut, grunting when you clenched around him with a needy whimper.

He forced his eyes open, gaze dropping only to see that you'd taken more than half of his cock already. His grip on your waist tightened when he saw just how much of your cum was practically leaking on him, covering the tops of his curly hairs.

"Holy shit, baby, look how much you're soaking me," he gasped, rubbing your clit faster that made you gush over his dick some more. "Christ, you're so fucking wet."

"A-All for you, Stevie," you mewled, nosing his cheek. You tried to kiss him, only to end up yelping in his mouth when his hips involuntarily jerked at your words, sheathing more of himself into you.

His apology died in his throat, a guttural growl rumbling out of his lips instead when you sunk even further, burying his cock all the way inside until he was fully wrapped by your tight, heavenly walls.

Steve was sure he was seeing stars.

"Good?" he asked after taking a second to catch his breath, trying so hard not to move as he let you adjust. Arms wrapping around your form, he trailed soft kisses on your shoulder, moving to the side of your neck, up your cheek before kissing you. You sighed, lips languidly moving with his. Steve hummed, "How does it feel?"

"Bigger," you breathed against his mouth.

"That so?" he chuckled, hands rubbing up and down your naked back. It wasn't exactly what he was asking, but he didn't mind an ego stroke here and there. "How about you, baby? How are you feeling?"

"So so good," you whispered, shifting slightly but the movement was enough to make you let out a strained moan. "F-Full."

"Oh yeah?" He grinned smugly, playfully nibbling at your bottom lip before he asked, "You like it better like this?"

You shook your head, forehead resting against his as you pouted. "Please don't make me choose."

"I'm not," he chuckled, shifting his legs slightly before they fall asleep. You whined needily from the slight stimulation. He grinned. "Was just asking, sweetheart."

"C-Can't choose."

"Yeah? As long as my cock's inside this pretty pussy, doesn't matter how I give it to you, right?" he drawled, chuckling when your eyes widened, surprised by his words as if he wasn't balls deep inside of you. Then, you nodded shyly, adorably agreeing. He hummed, "Yeah, that's right, such a cockslut for me, my pretty little cockslut."

That made you shakily gasp.

But judging by the way your cunt practically gripped him like a vice, Steve knew you liked it.

"You can move whenever you're ready, sweetheart," he rasped when you started wriggling in your seat.

Like clockwork, your eyes turned big and round, all glossed up as you looked through his, your swollen bottom lip jutted out.

"Why are you pouting? You're the one who wanted my cock," he tutted, shaking his head. squeezing your waist. "So take it."

And take him you fucking did.

Steve practically felt the air leave his lungs when you moved.

"Just like you practiced, back and f-forth, fuck yes," he gasped, head thumping against the headboard as you built up a steady rhythm, panting, whining, moaning on top of him with each gyration of your hips. "Fuck, baby, that's it, so fucking good."

"S-So deep," you choked out, followed by a loud mewl when you experimentally started moving in slow circles.

"Fuck, I know," he groaned, hands on your hips, aiding your movement but not by any means controlling it. This was all about you, after all. "And you're taking it so well, aren't you?"

You nodded fervently.

"And why is that?"

"C-Cause I'm—" you paused with a long moan, eyes screwing you for a moment before they looked deep into his. "I'm your good girl."

"Fuck yeah, you are," Steve growled, hips jerking off the mattress, earning a high-pitched moan from you when he hit that sweet spot.

"Steve, please," you cried needily, begging for him to do it again.

"Why don't you try bouncing on my cock, sweetheart?" he suggested, hands splayed underneath your ass, squeezing.

You paused with a whimper, grabbing his shoulders before you started going up and down.

Steve almost choked on his own spit. "Jesus, just like that—holy fuck, baby."

It wasn't fast, nor was it too hard, actions still laced with hesitancy but my God, getting to watch you be so desperate to hit that spot inside you, moans broken up with each bounce was enough to have his mind reeling.

But before Steve could encourage you to go faster, you accidentally rose too far up, his cock slipping out.

You froze in panic.

What followed was immediate, the embarrassment, frustration and worry coating your entire being as your head dipped, your body slowly deflating. You leaned forward to hide, probably thinking that you'd ruined everything.

Steve knew your signs all too well.

It also helped that this had happened before, that every time you try something new and the littlest mishap would happen, you immediately would think that you'd done something wrong, that you'd disappointed him.

Like Steve had said, you were such a pleaser.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he rushed, quickly holding your face in his hands before you could have the chance to curl into him. Kissing away the tears that touched your cheek, he cooed, "Ssh, it's okay, you're okay, it happens."

"Sorr—"

"Don't, sweetheart," he cut you off, smiling, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheeks, a few more on your lips before he looked at you properly. "It's totally normal for it to slip out, especially when it's your first time—hell, even sometimes when you'd done it before. It happens."

"Really?" you sniffled, doe-eyes looking at him expectantly, pout in full play.

Fuck. 

He honestly didn't know that someone being adorable was enough to actually make his dick twitch.

Only you, he was sure of it.

"Really, really. You'll get the hang of it, don't worry," he reassured, kissing your frown away. Lightly tapping your ass, he teasingly added, "You should get back on your seat, babe, it's gonna get cold."

That managed to coax a giggle out of you, and Steve couldn't stop his proud smile. One that was quick to be wiped off by a sharp hiss when you wrapped your fingers around his length, guiding him back into your warm folds.

And it didn't take long for you to get the hang of it at all.

Because for the few months you'd been together, Steve was assured about one thing:

You were one hell of a fast learner.

"That's it, fuck yourself on my cock," he grunted, hands digging into your hips as you gradually bounced faster. "Fuck that pretty, wet cunt on my cock, baby—shit!"

Steve's eyes rolled back with a deep moan, when gripped him like a vice.

And Christ, the feeling of your ass slapping against his thighs, your cunt sinking and pulling at his cock as you bounced—

It was fucking heavenly.

He blinked away the haze, just so he could have a good look at you, and fuck yes what a gorgeous view.

Your skin was glistening with sweat, so hot to the touch but God, he couldn't get enough of the burn as he let his hands fondle every flesh he could reach. You look ethereal, and he swore on his life you were glowing.

Your brows were pinched together, eyes screwed shut as your bitten lips formed an O, shape pleasingly familiar, blessing him the prettiest sounds, moans filthy and needy yet so fucking lovely. And your tits, fuck, the way they moved with each snap of your hips was mesmerizing, his eyes unable to stop drinking up the enchanting poison, his mouth open with a little bit of drool.

Steve was in awe, dumbstruck, lovesick.

You looked like his fucking wet dream personified.

Better yet, you looked like the most sinful angel that's ever blessed this earth, let alone his world.

"You're so fucking gorgeous bouncing on my cock like t-this," he panted out, a low groan bubbling in his throat when he felt your walls squeeze him. "Looking like a goddamn angel I swear."

It was utter euphoria.

The pungent smell of sex in the air, the sound of your coupling echoing around his room, skin slapping against skin, the quiet creak of his bed with each fervent thrust, the lewdness of your squelching pussy around his cock.

All of it was married deliciously with the moans you were breathing down his neck, needy uh uh uh's, working in tandem with each whiny Steve, Steve, Steve.

He was letting out his own grunts and curses in response, throwing in sweet praises, mixing them with his filthy words that he knew made you squirm.

He gushed about how he fucking enjoyed opening you up with his huge cock, molding your tight cunt to fit him perfectly so that it would only ever feel full with his dick and his dick only.

That threw you off your rhythm.

"N-No," you sobbed, annoyed, your movements slowing as your legs quivered slightly.

Steve already knew what you wanted the second he felt your pout against his skin. Yet still, he asked, "What's the matter?"

"My legs are tired," you whispered shyly, sniffling.

"Aww no, your legs are tired?" he cooed, gripping your jaw to get you to look at him, copying your pout condescendingly. "Want me to take control?"

You nodded fervently, whining as you shifted. "Please."

Steve lifted his hips with no warning, your body lurching forward with a yelp as he planted his feet flat on the bed. Both your hands flew to grip the headboard behind him, caging his head between your biceps.

You moaned when he coaxed you to lean forward even more, his tip brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

He buried his face into your chest then, wrapping his arms securely around your waist to firmly hold you in place before he started to fuck into you upwards.

Moments like this were mere reminders of your boyfriend's strength, years of being a star athlete definitely paying off.

Because Steve was relentless.

Each thrust of his hips was hard and fast and so fucking deep it was almost as if his goal was to bruise your lungs front the inside. Your moans didn't even have the chance to finish spilling out of your mouth when you were immediately choking them back in, each stroke somewhat stretching you a little bit more.

And you? Oh, you were floating.

Your mind was fuzzy, no other thought except Steve and the front of his thick thighs slapping against your ass.

It was filthy yet exhilarating, the sticky feeling of your skin against his, a culmination of sweat and your mess from when you rode the muscle earlier. It was made obvious since one thigh was definitely much wetter than the other.

Your brain was starting to get muddled, head fucked empty except for Steve and his huge cock driving up into your cunt.

It was mind-numbing, how much you could feel every inch and every thick vein dragging up and down your walls, mushroom tip nudging that spongy spot that had your eyes rolling with a drawn-out moan.

If he thought you were an angel, then you thought Steve Harrington was a god.

Because it was the only explanation as to how he was able to keep up his pace, how his fervent thrusts never faltered, how each draw of his cock was a perfect stroke to your velvety canvas, all while his hands and mouth were busy at the same time.

He'd never given your boobs this much attention before, tongue laving at your hot skin before his lips curled around a nipple, making sure the other didn't feel neglected as he toyed it with his fingers.

But then again, you never truly gave him the chance to.

Your insecurities weren't going to be magically gone in a span of, well, however long you two had been going at it. But they surely were nonexistent in your head at the moment m—nothing existed in your head right now.

Only Steve who'd been insatiably sucking on your tits with all his heart's desire, groaning against your hot and wet skin as if it was the best treat he'd ever had in a while. His large, rough hands were gripping at every crevice of your body he could reach, wandering and needy and praising and hungry, no skin left untouched. Then combining everything with the way his massive cock was pounding up into you, reaching the spots inside of you only he could reach, opening you up, stretching you, so filthy, so delicious—

Steve Harrington was fucking you into your next life.

So you couldn't blame yourself for thinking he was god-like when it came to his skills in the bedroom. He'd proven it to you over and over again and somehow, outdoing himself every single time.

Although, the second he'd open his mouth?

Oh, you were speaking to the Devil himself.

"Such a tight fucking pussy," he grunted, his warm breath feathering across your wet tits, the contrast in temperature making you clench. "Shit–fuck baby, it's like she wants to marry my cock. She won't fucking let go."

You mewled, nails dragging down the thick, straggles of hair on his chest.

"Yeah?" he rasped, nodding as if he was agreeing to something you said when you didn't even say a single word. It was mean and patronizing, but oh does it make your head spin. "Your cunt does want to marry my cock, doesn't she, baby?"

"S-Steve, please," you pleaded, but having no clue what for, too fucked dumb to even try and figure it out.

"If she lets me fill her up so, so good then I might just say yes," he grunted, growling when you squeezed him with a whine. "Yeah? Want it, pretty girl?"

"P-Please, please, please." You nodded, gasping, whining, needing that fire inside you to be put out by that only thing you knew would be able to.

"Course you do," he panted, sucking harshly on one tit before pulling away with a pop. "You know, sometimes I imagine you're not on the pill."

You blinked rapidly, trying so hard to focus on his eyes, brown hues now close to black as you gasped against his mouth, "Y-You do?"

"Mm-hmm, know what that means, sweetheart?"

"I-I get p-pregnant?" you spluttered dumbly, nose nudging with his unintentionally, only due to the way you were bouncing with each snap of his hips. "You w-want me to get pregnant, Stevie?"

The growl he let out went straight to your core, pussy immediately responding by squeezing around his cock.

"Fuck yes," Steve moaned, holding you still by the back of your neck, trying to connect your lips together, unsuccessfully so when you merely exchanged salacious sounds into each other's mouths. It was getting harder to discern which moans and whines were whose. The rumbling growl was Steve's, though, "Gonna fill you up until you're nice and round for me."

You clenched around him, hard.

"Oh?" He grinned smugly, licking into your mouth, pulling away with a groan, "Want to carry my babies for me, sweetheart?"

You whimpered, eyes closing, response a little shy but still, you nodded.

It made Steve go absolutely feral.

You didn't know if it was even possible for him to go any faster than the pace he'd set.

But oh he did.

You shrieked at the brutal shift, one hand clawing at his shoulder as your palm slammed against the headboard, stopping yourself from lurching forward and banging your head on the wood. You pressed your forehead against his, mewling brokenly as you felt the knot in your stomach twist at a rapid pace.

"S-Steve, Stev–fuck, I-I'm cl—Steve."

"You're what, baby?" he panted, growling as he started dragging your hips down to meet his. "Go on, finish your sentence."

You shook your head, overwhelmed-tears pooling in your eyes. "Want–shit, I n-need to c—"

"Aww no, am I interrupting you?" he cooed in fake sympathy, pouting at you. "Want me to slow down so you can talk?"

"N-No!" you choked out a sob, whimpering, nails digging into his shoulder blades, moaning filthily before you finally breathed out, "Close."

"I know, I know," he hummed, his head thumping against the headboard with a sharp hiss, watching where your cunt was swallowing him in and spitting him out, over and over and wetter with hooded eyes. "Cunt's squeezing me so fucking tight, baby. Taking me so fucking well like the good pussy that she is."

"S-Stevie, please."

He nodded slowly, eyes flitting up to meet yours.

"Touch yourself for me."

You didn't hesitate.

Your hand left the headboard, trembling fingers immediately finding your clit, gasping at how wet it already was.

Steve instinctively held you up with his arms when you let go of your support, mouth widening with a moan as his eyes watched your fingers carefully stroke the swollen bud, his cock keeping the same steady yet unforgiving pace.

"That's it, fuck, such a needy, pretty girl playing with herself," he praised, eyes snapping up to meet your barely open ones when you pleadingly moaned out his name, choking and blubbering out desperate please, please, please. He nodded, commanding, "Go on, cum."

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your whole body tensing up as the coil in your stomach snapped. Your legs quivered, toes curling reflexively, your gushing cunt clamping down on Steve's cock.

"Shit, shit, shit," he groaned loudly, followed by a whine as his hips stuttered. "That's it–fuck! That's a good fucking girl, milking my cock so fucking well."

Steve didn't help you ride out your orgasm because he didn't stop.

If anything, he picked up the pace.

"S-Steve," you choked out, shaking your head, too sensitive, too overwhelmed, a sob escaping your mouth and into his, body twitching from the overstimulation.

"Sssh, I know, I know," he whispered, grunting, whining, holding you steady with both arms around you as he chased his own high. "Few more, baby, just a few more."

Your head moved. You were trying to nod yes, but you didn't know what exactly you were doing, too fucked out of your mind, literally almost. And it seemed it wasn't clear for Steve, either.

"Can you do that, sweetheart?" he asked, choking out a moan when you nodded eagerly this time, whining out an audible enough yes, always willing to please him. "Yeah–fuck almost there. You're so so good to me, baby, such a good girl—my good girl."

You moaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, forehead pressed against his as you tried your best to keep your eyes open, watching your beautiful man chase his pleasure. You held onto him tighter, and then, with the strength you had left, you started bouncing to meet his thrusts.

"Y/N—fuck!" Steve cried out with a high-pitched whine, whimpering and moaning against your mouth as his hips stuttered. "K-Killing me, baby, you're killing me—shit! M'gonna fucking come."

You never understood why Steve insisted on hearing you during sex at first, scolding you whenever you'd hold back, always encouraging you to be as loud as you pleased.

Not until the first time you heard him let go, mouth flowing with his filthy, crude words, mixing with the sounds of his whines and whimpers, his high-pitched moans to his deep guttural growls—it was an otherworldly experience.

You'll never get tired of hearing it.

"Gonna fill you up, baby, a-and you're gonna take it l-like a good girl—shit, m'gonna come, gonna come, gonna come," he whined over and over and needier and louder, hips thrusting up into you, one, two, five more times before Steve finally came with a growling shout, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

You responded with a loud moan of your own as you felt him paint your walls, forcing your eyes open to take in his head lolling back, the deep pinch on his brows, the veins thickening on the side of his neck and his plump, red lips wide open with breathy moan and needy whines.

You'll never get tired of watching him come, either.

He grabbed you by the back of your head, bringing you close to kiss you messily, lips barely connecting, teeth clashing as he slowly rode out his high.

The second Steve stopped, you let yourself go.

Steve hurriedly wrapped his arm around you when your body slumped, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you into his chest. Pushing himself off the headboard, he gently laid you on your back, earning a soft whimper from you when his cock slipped out.

"Ssh, you're okay, I'm sorry, I know," he whispered as he situated himself beside you, hands flat against the mattress as he littered your skin with comforting kisses and praises. "Did so so good for me, sweetheart."

He kept doing it, whispering sweet nothings on your lips, on your cheeks, trailing across your face before moving down your body. His mouth followed the trail of his hands, placing gentle kisses on the skin after he'd rubbed soothing circles on your sore muscles with no ill intent. He only stopped when he felt your arms wrap around his neck, tugging at him to come up.

Steve lifted his head up to meet your tired but twinkling eyes, now cleared of haze.

"There's my beautiful girl," he gushed, gently prying your legs apart so his body could slot in between. Supporting himself on his forearms, he hovered above you, his lips quirking up to match your blissful smile. "Feeling okay?"

You nodded, sighing, "Feel amazing."

"Good," he chuckled, kissing your lips a couple more times before burying his face into your chest. "That's good."

"Steve!" you giggled, trying to pry his head away when his mouth found your boob again. You gasped when he lightly kissed your nipple, your hands covering your face as you laughed, "They're starting to get sore!"

"Oh, are they?" he murmured, voice muffled since his lips never left your skin, moving across your sternum to get to the other boob, giving it its deserved attention too. "I'm not quite done with them, though."

"Okay!" you squeaked when he started nibbling around your mounds, making nom nom nom sounds. You squirmed under him as heaps of squealing giggles escaped your lips. "You've made your point!"

He chuckled, giving them a few more kisses each before he pressed his cheek on your stomach, eyes meeting yours. "Just making sure it sticks in that pretty head of yours."

"I feel sticky."

Steve laughed, trailing back up to press his lips on yours. You hummed, legs on his waist, arms wrapping around his neck, your smile evident against the kiss.

"I could do a hot shower, too," he hummed, giving you a few sweet pecks before detaching himself from your body. He walked over to his ensuite bathroom, found a towel, damping it and wiped himself clean. He rinsed it up to do the same to you.

You were grinning to yourself when he got back.

"What're you smiling at?" he asked, picking up his sweatpants on the floor and slipping them on before walking over to you with the cloth.

"I think Robin has a point about the ass thing," you hummed, instinctively making access for him between your legs so he could clean you up like the many times he'd done before. "Because I really like your butt. It's cute and it's hot."

The heat traveled from Steve's face to the whole expanse of his neck.

"Stop looking at my ass, you perv."

"It looked at me first!" you laughed. "All round and jiggling and everything."

"Stop it!" he reprimanded, but he couldn't help but laugh with you, even though he was so sure his chest had gone red too. Only you could have him flustered over the littlest of things. But hey, it worked both ways. "We should eat dinner first then shower since I'm sure you're going to get hungry. I'll heat up the pizza from earlier."

"No," you whined, one arm lightly slamming on the bed as you covered your face with the other. "Snack, hot shower, and nap."

"You're out cold till next morning the second you get comfortable, babe. Don't talk to me about naps."

"Then change it to sleep."

Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes as he went back to the bathroom to take care of the towel.

You were still in the exact position when he got back.

He stood in front of you, hands on his hips as he nudged your foot with his knee. "Dinner, shower, sleep, come on."

"But then I have to wait for the food to digest before going to sleep," you protested, full on spreadeagle on the bed, pouting at him.

"Jesus Christ," he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before shaking his head at you with a fond smile. He offered you both his hands with a chuckle, "Then get your ass in the shower. I'm going to get you water and a snack which is…"

"Do we still have that watermelon in the fridge?" You smiled, excited, taking his hand to let him help you sit up.

"Yes," he said, shooting you a knowing look before picking up your clothes off the floor. "But you are not eating watermelon on the bed."

You slumped back on the mattress with a groan, "But Steve."

"No," he said firmly, handing you a shirt and the shorts you discarded hours ago. "You want watermelon? Downstairs."

"I'm not even a messy eater," you grumbled, sitting back up and putting the clothes on.

Your legs were wobbling the second you stood up.

Steve was immediately at your side, keeping you upright with an arm around your waist. He was grinning smugly, biting his cheek to stop it from growing too much.

Still, you saw—well, not that he was trying that hard to stop it, either.

"Leave me alone!" you whined, hiding your face in his chest, which in turn, made him burst out laughing. "This is your fault!"

"I know," he said unashamedly, guiding you behind him for a piggyback ride. "Come on."

He carried you downstairs, his chest warming when you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, littering it with soft kisses during your journey to the kitchen.

Steve sat you on top of the counter, his heart doubling in size as you absentmindedly swung your legs, watching him with a lovely smile as he moved around the kitchen. You gave him a grateful kiss once he handed you a bowl of a few slices of cold watermelon.

Heating up some pizza for himself, he decided to put four in the microwave. He could usually do with just two, but he had a hunch.

It still didn't fail him.

Because the second he took it out and the smell of it covered the kitchen, you pouted, eyes pleading as you looked at the plate, and then back at him.

Steve deadpanned, nudging your legs apart and situating himself in between, holding the plate of hot pizza in the middle of you both.

You ate like that in comfortable silence, only breaking it with laughs and giggles when you'd inevitably find yourselves in a kiss. Then there was a knowing yet fond sigh, Steve grabbing some paper towels when the watermelon started dripping down your chin. Your pout was in full play when he held your face, wiping it clean for you. He kissed it away, of course.

A full glass of water later, you were on his back again, latched like a koala, yawning like a sloth. He carried you straight into his bathroom, setting you down on the toilet to pee as he got the shower ready.

You were already half asleep the minute you two got under the running water.

Apart from your yawns and the way you were practically leaning on him with your cheek pressed to his chest, you'd been rubbing lazy circles of his body wash on the same spot for the last minute or two, over and over and over.

"That part of my back is going to be shining after this."

"I'm trying!" you whined, switching to up and down movements this time.

God you're so fucking cute.

Steve gently pulled you off of him despite not wanting to, trailing his hands with gentle circles over your chest—both palms squeezing playfully at your boobies which earned him an annoyed groan and a smack on the arm—and then moving to your stomach, earning another smack when he tickled your sides. Crouching down, he soaped up your legs, back to front before standing to his full height.

He chuckled when you immediately clung to him like a magnet, arms wrapping around his neck swiftly. He gave your shoulders massages then, rubbing down your back, teasingly squeezing your ass before moving back up again.

"Hey," Steve called out softly when you slowly got heavier in his arms. "Don't fall asleep on me."

"Feel'so–ugh, s'nice," you mumbled, face pressing against his neck with another you yawned, "So tired."

"I know," he chuckled, pulling the shower off the hook and handing it to you. "Here, rinse up so I can properly clean myself since you did a bad job."

You pouted, glaring at him with no ounce of fire but took the shower and did as told, anyway.

Steve was sure you were running on faulty autopilot by the time you were brushing your teeth. Your figure was wrapped only in a towel, eyes fully closed, brows deeply furrowed as you made languid circles in your mouth, staying on one spot for a little longer before moving to the next, the foam dribbling down your chin and splattering on the sink.

Steve chuckled at your state, thankful that he got to brush his teeth before you so he was able to watch such an endearing sight. He laughed even harder when you flipped him off, placing an adoring kiss on your forehead before he went downstairs.

He was met by your very naked and very lovely ass when he entered his room, your face pressed into the duvet, limbs apart like he had his very own giant starfish on his bed. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he placed the full glass of water on your bedside table.

He gave your cute butt a tap to check if you were still awake.

You groaned in response.

"Naked, shirt, or panties?" he asked, opening the drawer he'd cleared out to make room for your clothes a few weeks ago.

Your voice was muffled by the sheets but still loud enough for him to hear, "Panties, please."

Humming with a proud smile, he pulled out some cotton ones, white and polka-dotted pink with a cute bow at the front. Walking over to you, he tapped your ass again. You groaned softly before you rolled over onto your back. He slipped your panties on for you, guiding you to lie down properly, flicking his lamp on before turning the main light off.

The second he slipped beside you under the covers, you immediately curled into his side, cheek pressed against his chest, arm around his stomach with your leg swung over him.

"G'Night, Steve," you murmured, so sweet and soft that if you weren't practically on top of him, he wouldn't have heard it.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, arms squeezing your form closer as he whispered back,

"Goodnight, my love."

He gave it a few seconds, waiting, a fond chuckle escaping him when his only response was your soft snores.

Steve's so goddamn in love with you and didn't have a clue.

•••

Sometime in the night you two must've switched places, because when Steve stirred awake in the morning, he could hear your heartbeat, loud in his ears.

Slowly coming to, he realized that he'd been roused from his slumber not by the sunlight that leaked through his window. It was by the feeling of your soft fingers running through his hair and the comforting patterns you were drawing on his back—connecting his freckles and moles, probably, a habit of yours he absolutely adored.

"Steve?"

He hummed in response, nuzzling his face against your chest, grin widening when his nose nudged your still naked boob. He gave it a kiss, two more as he affectionately rubbed his cheek on the other, much like a cat.

"I need to get ready," you giggled, nails scratching his scalp, trailing to the back of his ear, making him shudder. "Up, sleepyhead."

How could you ask him that and do that at the same time?

"No," he whined, voice a little croaky, arms tightening around you, cursing whoever gave you an early shift. "Don't leave yet."

"Steve—"

"Five more minutes."

"Which will turn into ten, and then fifteen, and the next thing you know, you've kept me in bed for an hour and I'm already way past late."

Okay, that did happen once...or twice.

"But you haven't even told me good morning yet."

Your chest vibrated as you let out a hearty laugh, the feeling against his cheek making him smile. You cupped his face with both hands, urging him to come up.

Steve obliged, his heart growing twice its size at the sight of your beautiful face.

He loved having you be the first person he sees when he wakes up.

"Good morning, handsome," you hummed, smile glowing, eyes twinkling, the morning sunlight making you look like an—

"Good morning, angel."

"Right, confirmed that the pet name's staying," you giggled, bringing him in for a kiss.

"It's fitting," he hummed against your lips, shifting in his place until he was hovering over you, forearms caging your head. He kissed you for a few seconds more, only pulling away so he could properly look at you smiling back at him, glowing so beautifully. "You look like one."

You giggled shyly, scrunching up your face before you pressed it against his bicep, a poor attempt at hiding.

Steve didn't know if there was something in the air, or if it was the simple act of watching you like this, so relaxed, so comfortable, so secure and so happy—with him. 

All he knew was that he simply couldn't keep it in any longer.

"I need to tell you something," he said, a little nervous as he stroked your temple with his thumb.

You tilted your head at him curiously, "What's up?"

"I wanted to say it last night but I didn't want you to think it's 'in the heat of the moment' kind of thing," he admitted. "Need you to know I mean it the first time you hear it."

"Hear what?" you asked, voice sprinkled with concern as you cupped his cheek.

Steve gave your lips a soft peck, head turning to kiss your palm before he leaned against your touch. And with his eyes reflecting that powerful emotion that was burning in his chest, bubbling and begging to spill out, he said,

"I love you."

There was a soft gasp, your eyes widening slightly, your lips parting. You kept your eyes locked with his, but you stayed quiet. It was probably only a split second long but it was enough for Steve's heart to pick up a nervous pace.

"You don't have to say it back, I just—" He dropped his head, your foreheads pressed together, his nose nudging yours as he gave you a shy smile. "I needed you to know."

Steve felt a sense of relief when he saw your smile grow, letting out that oh so sweet giggle as you tilted your head to give him a quick kiss.

But then you smirked.

"Really pulling all the stops to keep me in bed, huh?"

Steve groaned in annoyance, pushing himself up and plopping onto his back beside you, forearm covering his eyes to hide his embarrassment.

"You are cruel."

You laughed, so lovely, so angelic.

His heart leaped at the sound, another organ jumping when you suddenly straddled his hips.

You leaned down, your bare chest pressing against his hairy one as you kissed his jaw, pulling his arm away so you could look into his eyes. And with your enchanting eyes glowing, captivating smile just as bright, you said,

"I love you too."

Steve sighed with a lovestruck grin as his fingers curled around your waist. "Say it again."

You shook your head, giggling as you pressed your lips against his, whispering into the kiss,

"I love you."

Steve groaned, hand holding the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, the other gripping at your hip to bring you a little closer.

"Oh my—Steve!" You pulled away with a gasp, eyes wide with realization before you buried your face into his neck with a hearty laugh.

He grinned knowingly, feigning innocence when he asked, "What'd I do?"

"Did you just get hard from me saying I love you?"

Yes.

Yes, he did.

"Uh, yeah? Do you know how fucking sexy that is?" he said like it was obvious. Well, he was already sporting a semi when he woke up, dick stirring when you pressed your boobs on him, your words simply made it fuller—just like his heart. "I mean, fuck, you love me."

"God, it's already starting to get into your head," you joked.

"Both heads," he corrected. "Stimulated the brain and sperm cells."

That made you groan, outwardly cringing as you got off of him. "I can't deal with you."

"It's true!" he laughed, making grabby hands as you walked towards the bathroom. "Baby, no, come back! I thought you loved me!"

"Not after that horrible joke!" you called out, the sound of running water following suit.

He shook his head, lovesick smile never leaving his face, not even for a second, sighing contently as he settled back in bed. He had nothing to do this morning but drive you to work, his shift wasn't until after lunch.

Laying on his stomach, he grabbed your pillow and tucked it under his arm, pressing his cheek against the remnants of your warmth and the sweet smell of your hair. It was barely even a substitute for the real thing, but it'll have to do for now until you'd get out of the bathroom so he can lovingly annoy you some more,

It didn't take long for that to happen.

But not in the way he expected.

"Steve fucking Harrington!"

Your glare was burning when you appeared back in the bedroom. But he wasn't focused on that—oh absolutely not

How could he when you were only wearing your panties, top half still completely naked?

And not only were you topless, but you were also marked.

Steve smiled smugly, burrowing his cheek against the pillow as his eyes trailed over the love bites that adorned your torso.

He might have gone overboard with the hickeys—okay, not might. He did.

For starters, there were quite a few—okay, maybe more than just a few—on the sweet spots all over your neck, then one or plenty more as you go further down your collarbone. There weren't too many. After all, he didn't want to overshadow the main piece.

A whole lot more were all over your boobies of course. 

But not scatteredly placed.

Nope.

Steve had a better idea than that.

Two hearts on each side of your chest, a bit lopsided but you could still make out the shape as each circled one of your pretty boobs. And then just a little below your sternum, an S H placed right in the middle.

He had to sign his work of art, obviously, especially when it was quite an amazing feat. To be honest, he didn't know how he managed to pull it off with it actually turning just perfect. But then again, you were too distracted to even realize what he was doing.

Steve felt so proud of himself.

Extremely proud.

It was another way of saying just how much he loves them—creatively, might he add.

"What a sight," he gushed, blowing out his cheeks. "You look gorgeous."

You grabbed the first thing you could reach—which was your bra hanging on his desk chair—balled it up and threw it at him. He fell back on the bed when it hit him square on the face, bursting out laughing.

"I'm leaving."

Steve got out of bed at record speed, his back landing against the door with a thud as he blocked your way.

You glared at him, arms crossed, so clearly frustrated and annoyed. And while he usually found you cute when you were angry, with you being close to naked, tits on full display and covered in his marks? Oh you looked so fucking hot.

It made him want to pull by the throat, press you against the door and kiss you senseless.

"Steve, I swear if you don't stop staring—"

"What? I'm appreciating the art!" he defended, gesturing at your chest with a wide smirk. "Boobs included."

"You're impossible!" you squeaked, hitting his arm before turning on your heels, standing in front of the foot of his bed, hands on your hips.

His eyes wandered down your bare chest again. 

"Steven!"

"Okay! Okay," he conceded, meeting your eyes with the most charming smile he could muster, hands up as he slowly walked over to you. "I think I have a turtleneck somewhere, you can borrow it."

"I can't wear a turtleneck underneath my uniform! I think you've forgotten I work in a bakery," you stated as if it was obvious. When he only looked at you with a confused face, you growled, "There are ovens, Steve, hot ovens!"

Fuck.

You really needed to stop making those noises while your boobs were staring right back at him, eye to nipple.

"Well, then you'll just have to show off my masterpiece," he said, shrugging.

"Steve," you whined, head thrown back, hands rubbing at your eyes.

"What'd you want me to do!" he laughed, taking the last remaining steps before circling his arms around your waist, tucking his face into your neck. "Hmm, want me to kiss them away?"

"No!" you squeaked, the sound swiftly replaced by your laugh when he blew a raspberry on your ticklish spot. "Off me, Harrington!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, fingers splaying on the sides of your neck as he ran his thumbs across your jaw. "What can I do to help?"

You pursed your lip, thinking. Steve couldn't help but lean down and kiss it, only for you to gasp in his mouth a few seconds later.

"Can you get me a bowl of ice and a metal spoon please?"

It was a trick Vickie told Robin, who then told Steve, who then tried it on you. Because obviously, this wasn't the first time he got too excited about leaving marks on your skin.

This was his best work so far though, and he didn't want it to be gone too soon.

"But, angel, you can't get rid of them." He put on his best pout and puppy eyes. "It's too pretty to get rid of."

"I can't go to work like this!" you groaned, shaking your head, covering your eyes with your palms. "You know that."

The owner of the bakery you worked at was a nice, old lady, quite motherly and cared about her employees, sometimes a little too much. But boy was she a prude. The first time you showed up to work with one—the first time he'd given you one, to be exact—she had pulled you aside. She gave you a whole lecture about sex before marriage, and how sex was the Devil's game until it's been blessed by God in the church, and you shouldn't give into the temptation or else you'll suffer the consequences.

"Well, if sex is the devil's game, then please," Steve had drawled seductively after you retold the story, voice dropping as he leaned across the center console, hand on your headrest, your faces a few inches close. "Call me Satan."

You had buried your face in your hands with a groan, shaking your head. In disbelief? In embarrassment? In utter disappointment? He didn't know. Could've been all of the above, to be honest.

While Steve might've laughed and teased you when you told him the story, he also couldn't exactly blame you if you didn't want it to happen again.

"Okay, I'll get you the ice and spoon in a second."

"But?"

"Can I look at them for a little bit longer?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes, pleading with a pout, "I haven't had the chance to appreciate it."

"I mean, you can always take a picture."

Steve blinked.

This was his girl, his sweet, innocent, shy girl. This was the same one who would hide over the simplest compliment, the very same one who took a while getting comfortable in front of the Polaroid camera which you had gifted him on his birthday. You said it was for taking pictures of the simple yet beautiful things he found in his life, to immortalize them so they wouldn't be forgotten, especially when Steve's memory had been starting to grow faulty, lately. 

Obviously, a lot of the photos he'd take ended up being of you. He had only been able to take one with your full beauty on display when you weren't aware, not until after you'd heard the click. Because you'd be hiding behind your fingers if he'd told you beforehand.

And now, you were the one suggesting that he'd take pictures, and not even candid, innocent ones, nude photos, showing the dark markings all over your chest.

He died last night, didn't he? Because he was sure he was in heaven.

Then again, here you were, still half-naked in front of him.

Last night really must've done something to your confidence. 

Steve loved it.

"You serious?" he asked.

"Yes, Steve, I'm serious," you confirmed, shrugging with your signature shy smile. "And you always keep saying how you want to take one when we do it."

"Are you a hundred percent—"

"Yes!" you laughed, pushing at him gently. "Now quickly because I'm going to be late!"

"Okay! Okay! I'm getting to it!"

Once the Polaroid camera was hanging around his neck, he immediately took your hands, guiding you to sit in the middle of the bed.

You laughed when he moved you around a couple of times, settling for a few seconds, before tugging you to change position again. His brows were furrowed in deep concentration as he tried to see which angle and lighting from the sun would look best.

Finally, deciding on one, he took a step back.

Steve's breath got knocked out of his lungs once his eyes landed on you.

You were sitting on your knees, your hands, palms flat against your thighs as you looked at him with that gorgeous yet shy smile. The morning sunlight was hitting you perfectly, your skin glowing, showcasing your tits beautifully, the marks made even more prominent by the golden rays.

Steve didn't know if there was a mirror somewhere and it was a trick of the light, or if you truly had a real halo above your head. Because you definitely looked like the most beautiful, most breathtakingly stunning angel he'd ever laid his eyes on.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

How did he get so lucky?

Steve didn't want to get too ahead of himself but he swore he wanted to marry you right then and there.

"Stop gawking, you perv."

He blinked, shaking his head as he grumbled, "Right, right, sorry—pfft, you're fucking distracting, that's not my fault."

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. But he still saw your smile brighten.

"Wait, wait, let me just—" Steve took long strides closer to you, dipping his head and circling his lips on the marks that were fading a little. You gasped when he started suckling, deepening their color again. He grinned against your warm skin when you all but melted into his touch. "Hmm, just needed to touch up some."

"Steve," you whined. "You're not playing fair." 

"Okay, okay, I'm done," he chuckled, giving you a kiss on the lips before resuming his previous position, eyes moving behind the viewfinder. "Now sit still and smile—"

You scrunched up your face and stuck out your tongue.

Click.

"You're usually good at following instructions, what happened?" he tutted, shaking his head, pinching the printed photo between his fingers. "Since you're fucking adorable, I'll let it slide." Smirking, he added, "For now."

You grew shy at that, eyes glossing with that familiar haze before you shook your head, smile widening as you pressed your cheek on your shoulder.

Click.

"Gorgeous," he gushed out, eyes still trained on you as he took the second photo out of the exit slot. "You honestly deserve to be in a museum."

You shook your head, giggling shyly, "Stevie, can you get me that ice now?"

"Few more, please?"

"But Steve," you whined, now moving to cover your face with your hands. "I think we've done enough. I look like shit in the morning."

"Hey! Don't you dare! You look fucking beautiful," he reprimanded, bringing up the camera and taking another photo anyway, despite not being able to capture your face. The more the merrier, he thought. Once it made its signature whirring sound, he looked at you with a smile. "Come on, let me see you, pretty girl."

You shook your head, hands falling back on your thighs as you giggled.

Click.

"God you're so pretty it hurts," Steve groaned, shaking his head in disbelief, fingers now getting full of photos but he was sure it would never be enough. "Like you're definitely not helping with my boner here, babe, it's fucking aching."

"Steve!" you burst out laughing. 

Click.

You gasped, "I wasn't ready!"

"Pfft, I bet you still look stunning," he scoffed, rolling his eyes at you teasingly before he carefully placed the photos face down on his bedside table. "Okay, I'm done."

"Us two?" you asked.

Now, he'd be a fool to say no.

With a grin, Steve quickly settled beside you, taking the strap off his neck so he could hold the camera farther to fit you both in the frame.

He turned to you and asked, "How do you want?"

You shrugged, smiling at him as you cupped his face with both hands, fingers splaying on his jaw, pulling him in for a kiss.

Steve grinned even wider.

Click.

Humming between the kiss, he teased his tongue against your parted lips, slipping it into your mouth not long after, earning a soft moan from you.

Click.

And it went on like that for a few minutes, just the two of you kissing as Steve kept taking picture after picture, the films falling all over the bed and some on the floor. He'd take care of them later. And sure, making out with you with a hand in the air was a task and a half, his bicep gradually aching as the seconds ticked by. But he knew that the photos he'd get will make everything worth it.

Even more as he moved down your throat, your head tilting with a gasp as you gave him easier access, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Click.

He went further down, placing open-mouth kisses on your collarbone before moving to your boobs, lips teasingly wrapping around your nipple.

Click.

"Steve—okay, that's enough," you gasped, followed by a squeal when he playfully nibbled, pushing his head away from your chest with soft laughs. "You need to stop before you get carried away."

"Me?!" He glared at you teasingly. 

"You're the one who's addicted to sucking my boobs!

"Well, it's not my fault they're super suckable!"

"Oh God," you groaned, face in your hands. "Can I have that ice now?"

Steve didn't stall anymore this time.

When he got back from the kitchen, he found you sitting on the bed in your jeans and bra, sifting through the Polaroid photos with a warm, proud smile.

"How'd they turn out?" he asked, placing the bowl of ice cubes with two—he was going to help, obviously—metal spoons on the now cleared bedside table.

Steve moved to sit behind you, arm around your waist to pull you closer, chin on your shoulder so he could peer at the photos and—oh my fucking God.

Stunning was a massive understatement.

"Holy shit, look at you!" Steve gasped, taking a few in his hands and fuck you looked beautiful in every single one.

"They do look pretty," you murmured, fanning a couple more in your fingers to show each photo.

"You look pretty," he gushed, turning to meet your eyes. "I don't call you my pretty girl for nothing."

Every single time you hear it, your eyes light up. And every single time he sees that, Steve's heart skips a beat.

It was why he never tired of telling you just how beautiful you were to him.

Kissing your lips quickly yet sweetly, he turned back to look at the pictures, eyes twinkling with admiration.

All of them were gorgeous, don't get him wrong. But one, in particular, caught Steve's eye.

It was the one with you laughing, the joyful and natural glow on your features a stark contrast to how your tits were in full display, bruised up and covered in all his love.

"Now, this," he hummed, taking it in his fingers and showing it to you. "This is going in my wallet."

Your head snapped to look at him, eyes wide. "You can't keep that in your wallet!"

Steve pouted, "Why not?"

"What if someone sees?" you said, voice dropping as if you were disclosing a secret.

"Then they'll get to see how fucking beautiful my girlfriend is," he stated, as a matter of fact, shrugging. A sweet yet apprehensive smile tugged at your lips. Steve kissed it gently, "But, if you don't want me to, just say the words and I won't."

You didn't say a single word.

Instead, you hid your face against his neck, your skin warm against his, so obviously flustered. Yet still, you gave his skin gentle, appreciative and loving kisses. 

Steve grinned.

Because as shy as you may be, he knows you love it when he shows you off.

Steve always did whenever he got the chance.

And later that day as he went and paid for his and Robin's ice cream, he earned a sudden smack on the back of his head. It was from a plastic spoon this time, so it didn't really hurt much.

But still.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Your wallet, dingus!"

Steve blushed, but his smirk was smug and wide, earning a punch on the arm this time when he wiggled his eyebrows.

It was the same photo he claimed earlier but with a slightly new addition.

A scribble of his handwriting on the white space below that said:

My pretty girl(s)

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[floshav]

want you so bad.

Peter Parker x fem! reader

summary: Peter likes Mj. You like Peter. Everyday is hell when they're both in each others vicinity and you're sitting right behind the madness. You're so close to professing your love for him but you keep it under wraps because it seems like an impossible feat.

Warnings: intense yearning, slight steamy scene, kissing, alluding to smut

He brings his hat down, pushing his fluffy bits of hair to flair out at the ends of his hat. You quirk your head to the side wondering who he was trying to hide from or who he saw. Yet it was no surprise to find that it was Mj.

She walked in with her curly, unruly hair which made her look so, so beautiful. The freckles which danced on her face making her glow and it made you jealous. Why did her natural beauty shine through more than your own? Why couldnt Peter see that in you. Why couldn't you see anything in yourself.

His eyes darted around the park outside your school and finally landed on you. You looked at him with a knowing expression.

"Don't need to play it cool Parker. The whole school can smell your crush from here." You smirk.

He scratches the back of his head and pretends like he doesn't know you till' he gives you a defeated look.

"Whatever you say y/n...." It only takes a few more moments before he breaks

He musters out a breathy whisper which you've heard a billion times before. "Is that really MJ?" Peter gravelly asked, hands at either side of his head, giving in to the fact that he was definitely head over heels for her.

You try to hold in a sigh, " Yes, Peter. It is MJ. For the hundredth time this week!" You yearn out, half joke half seriously.

Peters shoulder's tense up as a dorky smile carves his lips. "Is she looking our way? Or is her nerdy ass stuffed in a book." Peter asks with wide eyes. The eyes which you found so adorable, palpable yet so far from the personal touch of your own fingertips.

You slowly turned your head around to glimpse at the curly haired girl who was indeed lost in a book.

"Yea, shes reading her book." You say as you shoot Peter a tight smile and hate Mj for being the stereotypical mysterious girl. You Wondered if he could sense the hurt beneath you. Of course not. He was just a boy after all.

"I wonder how her long eyelashes feel against her eye bags as she slurs through the words. Or how the spine of the book feels as her soft fingers inch it to crack. Ugh, I just want to count every freckle on her beautiful face. Ya think she's ever thought of me before?" Peter began to ramble sweet nothings to himself as if you were giving him your utmost attention and not thinking about how stars practically lived in his eyes as he talked about her. How you wish he was talking about you.

You felt that familiar soul crushing, heart sinking feeling that you knew too well. The feeling that every boy you've ever liked has given you. The feeling of being so close yet so far away was the final blow.

He placed both his hands on either side of his face again and began to softly bite his lip as he giggled to himself stupidly.

"What're you thinking about Parker." You ask playfully trying to lighten the mood for yourself.

"Her lips... her eyes.... her hair." He smiled to himself so oblivious to the fact that every compliment he gave her was a dagger to your heart.

------------------

2 months

2 months pass and Peter has started talking to Michelle. Instead of walking past him, she smiles, she waves occasionally and has even said small hi's to him. The progress aches your yearning heart further into abyss but you ignore it anyway. Michelle has a new glow to her, she radiates beauty and the colour yellow ever since they started conversing. While you stay stagnant, radiating a plain old indistinguishable grey.

You're in Peters room, you two have just finished a major lego piece you've been putting off and the nights going great.

buzz

There goes your night you think to yourself.

Peter picks up his phone only to reveal his dorky smile again. Hes immediately stuck like glue and you hate it. You hate her. Even though you shouldnt, you couldnt care less.

You lay beside him as he smiles at his phone when in fact he should be smiling at you.

You snatch his phone and crush it, crush it to bits imagining it was Michelle jones, every bit of it Gone. gone to dust.

you snap out of your fantasy and return to see him stuck in her spiders web.

"Hey Peter" you coon

"Whats up?" He sets his phone aside and turns to face you.

Unknowingly you inch closer, and closer but the gap is barely noticeable.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you take in a breath. He notices the subtle gesture and his mind wanders.

"Have you ever wondered.." You trail off

"Wondered.....?" He repeated

"Wondered what it'd be like to.."

"to... kiss someone." You shyly whisper knowing you both haven't had your first kisses.

"I think it'd be amazing. Especially with someone you like. Imagine the feeling, the sparks flying. Just everything put into place." He says as he searches your eyes for a deeper meaning behind your facade.

"Yea... Someone you like." Your heart pounds solemnly at the thought that you'd never share your first kiss with your first love because he was tangled up in a love story of his own.

"Why'd you ask?"

"Just... felt like it."

----------------------------

a month passes since that conversation and you see Peters lips locked onto Mj's as they share soft kisses beside the vending machine. You should feel happy for him but he's all you've ever wanted and you've just lost him. You want to scream, shout, cry but you don't have it in you anymore. You just don't care.

Peter pulls away and Mj has a wide smile plastered on her face. Something you rarely ever see from her. Your mind wanders to what Peters lips would feel like. Soft.. Plush and warm. The wetness of lips on lips makes you aroused. The sounds he'd make if you did something a little more. He was seemed like the type you thought to yourself. The way his face would be so flushed after you'd litter him with affection and kisses. Him gaining more confidence as you went on. Mj watching on the side. You hadn't even realised a dampening form on your panties until you shifted around. You wanted him so so bad, but all you could do was watch from the side.