#which helped me space it out over a week so it worked out anyways

[mcmansionhell]

mojo dojo casa house

Howdy folks! Sorry for the delay, I was, uhhhh covering the Tour de France. Anyway, I'm back in Chicago which means this blog has returned to the Chicago suburbs. I'm sure you've all seen Barbie at this point so this 2019 not-so-dream house will come as a pleasant (?) surprise.

Yeah. So this $2.4 million, 7 bed, 8.5+ bath house is over 15,000 square feet and let me be frank: that square footage is not allocated in any kind of efficient or rational manner. It's just kind of there, like a suburban Ramada Inn banquet hall. You think that by reading this you are prepared for this, but no, you are not.

Scale (especially the human one) is unfathomable to the people who built this house. They must have some kind of rare spatial reasoning problem where they perceive themselves to be the size of at least a sedan, maybe a small aircraft. Also as you can see they only know of the existence of a single color.

Ok, but if you were eating a single bowl of cereal alone where would you sit? Personally I am a head of the table type person but I understand that others might be more discreet.

It is undeniable that they put the "great" in great room. You could race bicycles in here. Do roller derby. If you gave this space to three anarchists you would have a functioning bookshop and small press in about a week.

The island bit is so funny. It's literally so far away it's hard to get them in the same image. It is the most functionally useless space ever. You need to walk half a mile to get from the island to the sink or stove.

Of course, every McMansion has a room just for television (if not more than one room) and yet this house fails even to execute that in a way that matters. Honestly impressive.

The rug placement here is physical comedy. Like, they know they messed up.

Bling had a weird second incarnation in the 2010s HomeGoods scene. Few talk about this.

Honestly I think they should have scrapped all of this and built a bowling alley or maybe a hockey rink. Basketball court. A space this grand is wasted on sports of the table variety.

You would also think that seeing the rear exterior of this house would help to rationalize how it's planned but:

Not really.

Anyways, thanks for coming along for another edition of McMansion Hell. I'll be back to regular posting schedule now that the summer is over so keep your eyes peeled for more of the greatest houses to ever exist. Be sure to check the Patreon for today's bonus posts.

Also P.S. - I'm the architecture critic for The Nation now, so check that out, too!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x single mom!reader; your ceiling is leaking at 3 in the morning and you don't know what to do so you go ask for help from the man across the hallway(inspired by real life events that were not nearly so charming).

no need to have read the others in the series but can be read as a week or two after the aquarium date.

cw: Sukuna being a menace

Sukuna had always been a light sleeper so when there were knocks on his door at 3am, he was up instantly. The knocks weren't even loud but he found himself annoyed enough to stomp to the door. If he wasn't sleeping, the people below him didn't need to be either.

He yanked his door open, prepared to make whoever it was regret every moment of their existence but it was you, holding your daughter and clearly on the verge of tears.

You seemed contrite when you saw his expression but before you could even start to apologize, he was slipping on his boots and grabbing his key.

"What's wrong," he asked.

"It-it's the ceiling, I woke up and it was leaking water. It's getting everywhere and I don't know what to do and the landlord isn't picking up."

Sukuna rubbed your arm, trying to give you some comfort and you relaxed a little.

"Okay, let me come take a look. I can call the super, he's probably more likely to answer than the landlord." You nodded and he followed you back to your place. Holding his hand out to stop you at the door as he made to go in first.

Sukuna heard the water pouring in before he saw it. He had never been in your apartment before. It was clear that a woman there. There was color everywhere, more blankets than made sense for two people and the walls were covered in photos and artwork. It felt soft, it reminded him of you. And now, it was being ruined by water raining down from the ceiling.

"Why don't you wait in my apartment. You both look like you could use some rest. I'll sort this out," he said, handing over his key. You looked ready to protest but then your daughter started crying.

"Go, I got it."

You looked so relieved and he wiped away a few tears from your daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead which helped bring the tears down to a more tolerable snuffling.

"Thank you so much, I don't even-"

"Don't worry about it. You two just go settle in the guest room and I'll wake you up when it's settled."

You smiled at him and you seemed to hesitate before you went up on your toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Sukuna couldn't stop himself from grinning as you took your daughter out the door and towards his apartment. He turned around to look at the mess that was your apartment. It looked like a pipe must have burst in the apartment above yours. Annoying, but a quick fix when caught this early. He grabbed his phone, opening it to call the super before a thought came to him that just wouldn't leave.

It would be a shame if you had to terminate your lease because of unsafe conditions, after all you must still have a good six months left on it. He knew you didn't have any family in the area and it would be a lot for a working mom with a kid as young as yours to go apartment hunting all the sudden.

Of course, he did have that guest room. Plenty of space for the three of you and it wouldn't be hard to bring over the stuff you needed while you looked. His apartment was bigger than yours, even though it was just him.

Even if it was a tight fit, his lease was up at the end of the year anyway. You could always get a bigger space, one for your soon to be growing family.

Sukuna pocketed his phone and took a seat at your dining table, away from the water. He figured it would only take another hour before the damage passed the point of no return.

He hoped you and your daughter were resting well in your new home.

[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[diobrando]

listening to my cooperating teacher teach the same lesson 3 times a day really is taking me out

[hayatoseyepatch]

Description: You couldn't believe your misfortune. Once more, you found yourself tethered to Sylus, stuck in a closet with no choice but to stay hidden so you both wouldn't be discovered. But this time around, it seems Sylus has every intention of making sure you have a hard time remaining quiet enough not to be caught. Character: Sylus (Love & Deepspace) Word Count: 2.1k Contains: Sylus x Fem!Reader. SMUT. Forced proximity, penetrative sex, semi-public sex (kinda?), trying not to get caught, dirty talk, praise, degradation, Sylus being Sylus.

Authour's Note: So I just realized it's been almost an entire month since I've published an actual fic, 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖕 𝖜𝖔𝖒𝖕. Hi y'all thanks for sticking around and being patient with me! Between kinktober prepping and working on my matchup event (thanks for being patient I'm getting those out asap) I've been SWAMPED. This is based off the "Immobilized" memory, I couldn't stop thinking about this ever since I pulled it so here we are.. This is my first Love & Deepspace fic, so please be gentle with me, if there's anything I can improve please let me know! I just started playing and I'm already hooked (its so bad save me). Anyways I hope you enjoy!

The enclosed space in the closet is cramped, you and Sylus were chest to chest, both trying to remain quiet as to not be caught. You couldn’t believe you had been so foolish as to forget another one of your belongings in this room. The bond around your wrists still tethering you together, he smirked, a glint in his vermillion eyes as he leaned down. His lips pressed against the shell of your ear, you could feel his hot breath caress the sensitive skin as he speaks. “Careful, kitten, or I’m going to get the wrong idea and think you like being stuck in a cramped space with me.” He teases, that infuriating grin never leaving his lips. You reach your free hand over, shoving him harshly, which only serves to make him chuckle.

You peek through the slots in the closet door, the roommate you had for this event was just sitting down at the vanity in the room to get started on her hair and makeup. You exhaled, careful not to do so too loudly to alert her to the fact you were currently tethered to the leader of Onychinus. The mischievous glint in Sylus’ eye was impossible to ignore. He stood to full height, in two strides in the cramped space, he had your back pressed against the wall. His head ducking to the crook of your neck, his breaths fanning across your skin had your heart racing and breaths coming in unevenly. “What are you doing?” You whisper harshly to him, though your words are hardly threatening due to the way your voice shook from having him so close.

The only response you get is a soft ‘shh’ sound coming from his lips before his lips attach themselves to your neck. His mouth begins to leave open-mouthed kisses up the expanse of your neck, not stopping until his lips reach the shell of your ear. “Seems like we’ll be trapped here for a while, sweetie.” His whisper comes in between rasping breaths to your ear. 

“Let’s see how quiet you can be while we ‘pass the time’, shall we?” His sentence was punctuated with a playful nip to the skin of your neck. His large hand grabbing the back of your thigh to wrap one leg around his hip. Any words you could attempt to formulate would be cut off by the following kiss he presses against your lips. The tension between you two over the last few weeks could be cut with a knife and Sylus couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to have you. He was a man who seized opportunity, and he saw this as the perfect one to make you his.

You can’t help but melt into the kiss. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never wondered what kissing Sylus would be like, as frustrated as it made you, you couldn’t help but think of him often. The striking red of his eyes, his broad shoulders, that deep rasp that his voice held making every word he spoke go straight to your- Your trailing thoughts were interrupted by a gasp, feeling him roll his hips into yours, feeling just how much the kiss was effecting him against your center. He pulls from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips for a moment before it snaps. Looking up you meet those vermillion orbs, he lifts a sculpted eyebrow, smirk returning to his features. 

“Someone seems distracted. Something on your mind, sweetie?” His words are hushed as to not draw attention to the third party just outside the closet door. Suddenly your current predicament comes rushing back, alarm bells ringing in your head. “We shouldn’t, what if we get caught?” You look up at him, eyes laced with panic, to which he only chuckles under his breath. 

“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to be quiet then won't you, kitten?” He cuts you off once more with his lips, his tongue slipping past your parted lips with ease. His hand slipping up the smooth skin of your thigh, well past the fabric of your skirt. He relishes the sweet whimper he receives when the pads of his fingers come into contact with the damp fabric of your panties. His next words coming murmured against your lips. “But of course we can always stop if that’s what you want.” He goes to pull from you, grinning when your lips chase his as he attempts to separate. 

“Though if we’re going by the state of your panties, darling, I’d say you want this as much as I do.” He coos, pushing the fabric to the side. He tsks as he collects your wetness on the pads of his fingers, using it as aid to glide his fingers against the sensitive nub of your clit. “So wet, is this all for me, little bird?”

Your fingers grip the fabric of his sweater, so lost in the feeling of him you don’t notice the bind connecting your wrists had vanished. His fingers begin rubbing lazy circles against your sensitive spot, lips returning to your neck. “I couldn’t hear you, kitten, who made you this wet?” He grins as you grip him harder, nails pinching his skin through the fabric. Your words are unsteady and hushed, trying your best to remain concealed. 

“Yes, Sylus, I’m this wet for you.” His grin is palpable, guiding his fingers to your entrance. Rewarding your compliance with a finger sliding past the velvety walls of your cunt. “That’s my girl.” Without hesitation, he slips a second finger inside you, groaning lowly at how your walls contracted around his fingers. Just feeling how tight you were has his eyes rolling back in his head. He works you over with his fingers, digits scissoring inside you to offer some preparation of what's to come. He works you over on his fingers, pumping them in and out of your tight heat. 

“I don’t know, baby, I think if anything’s gonna get us caught, I think it just might be this cute little cunt.” He chuckles softly as you slap his shoulder in protest. “It’s not my fault she’s being so vocal for me, do you hear her?”

His words have heat rising to your cheeks as he speaks. He curls his digits, pads of his fingers expertly hit the spongy spot within your walls that has your eyes seeing while. Bundling his shirt in your fists, lunging forward to sink your teeth into the skin of his neck to muffle your moans as you shake against him. Walls spasming around his fingers as you come undone on his fingers. He hisses upon the impact of your bite but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. He barely allows you time to recuperate, maintaining eye contact as he slips his fingers from your cunt and past his lips, tasting you on his digits and groaning low in his throat. 

“Absolutely delicious sweetie.” He purrs, lifting your thighs to wrap around his waist. Supporting your weight with one hand that grips the plush skin of your ass. In one swift movement, he has his pants unzipped, pulling his hardened member from his boxers. Hand holding the base to position himself at your entrance. “Need to hear you, kitten. Tell me how much you want me inside you.”

Your eyes look up into his own, holding onto him as you're pressed between him and the wall. Chewing on your bottom lip, whimpering as he uses your slick as leverage to tease your clit with the mushroom tip of his cock. Unable to take his teasing any longer, you comply, not recognizing your own voice from the need lacing your tone. “Please, Sylus, I need you. Need you to fill me up with your cock, want to feel you splitting me open, please.” 

Your words send a shiver up his spine, wishing only that he could hear you whisper to him so sweetly on repeat. “Now how could I deny my little bird when she begs me so sweetly?” He grins slipping past the tight ring of your entrance, silencing your sounds with his mouth. Tongues and teeth clashing from the intensity of the kiss both of you being consumed by your need for one another. He spurs on, continuing to sink inch by inch before bottoming out. He lets out a shaky breath against your lips, pulling away just far enough to check that you were okay. The half-lidded expression you send him has his cock throbbing, your eyes begging him to move. The both of you catch the sound of the door shutting outside the closet door, the tell tale sign that you both no longer needed to be quiet. “Fuck, finally, need to hear you kitten. Don’t you dare fucking muffle a single sound, you hear me?” He groans into the skin of your neck.

His hips start to move, setting a brutal pace from the start. Every moan, whimper, and call of his name that slips past your lips goes straight to his cock. The sounds only spurred him to continue slamming his cock against your gummy walls. Leaning forward as he began rolling his hips against your own, pressing another desperate kiss against your lips. He pulls from you after a moment, using his thumb and finger to open your mouth and spitting directly between your now-parted lips. Watching with hunger as he watches your throat contract as you swallow.  

“Gods kitten, so goddamn pretty.” He grunted out throwing his head back, his hands coming to the backs of your thighs, using them as anchors to pull you down on his cock. The feeling has a deep groan slipping past his lips, his eyes rolling back in his head from the intense pleasure. “Fuck sweetie, so fucking tight. Gonna have you molded to my shape by the time I’m done with you.”

His words have you shivering, eyes hazy with pleasured tears glassing over your vision. Feeling your end approaching, needing desperately for him to push you both over the ledge. “Please Sylus, fuck me harder. Fuck, please, Sy can't take it, please.” Your words ignite a fire in him, hand coming to the small of your back pushing you down just a bit further angling your hips for a better angle. 

“Oh? is that really what you want kitten? Want me to breed this pretty little pussy? Have you walk out of here and back to base with my cum dripping down your thighs? Want me to fuck you harder, is that so?” he questions, a satisfied grin on his face, but unable to deny the effect your words had on him. “Well your wish is my command, sweetie, begging me so prettily. Oh so proud of you, that’s my girl.” He grips your hips, slamming them against your own the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room. “Fuck daddy, please, fuck please” You beg, hearing the pathetic need in your own voice. Your eyes roll back, hearing your own wetness now, coil inside tightening at a rapid rate aching to snap.

Sylus felt his own coil reaching its end. He knew that it was bound to break and crumble, much faster than it usually did from the sheer tightness of your gummy walls. Whimpers started falling from his mouth as he heard your calling to him begging for your own sweet release. His thrusts became sloppy, desperate, as he urged you both to tumble over the edge. 

“Go on kitten, give it to me, you can let go.” He whispered in your ear, making sure that you released before he finished the chase for his own high. Reaching between your legs rubbing your clit in small tight circles, feeling you tighten around him as he shivered a bit. Your cries and begs were like music to his ears. Unable to help it, your hips rolling against the attention to your clit. Hand gripping him by the back of his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, moans spilling into his mouth. One last harsh thrust has your coil snapping, crying into his mouth as your walls clamp down on his cock. Sylus groaned, biting down on your shoulder, sure he would leave a mark in his wake. Falling over the edge himself. A low groan and a cry of your name falling from his lips. His hips slowed as he allowed you both to come down from your highs, holding you close to him. Pressing his forehead against your own as he stilled his hips. 

“So beautiful sweetie, did so fucking good for me. Let's get you home, kitten. Get you nice and cleaned up where you can rest.” Sylus never imagined this being the situation where you both would find yourselves in each other’s arms. But he would be the last to complain, so long as he was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t ask for more.

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @adornedwithlight. Writing & character banners by me. Special thanks to @staraxiaa & @ambiguouslady42 for beta reading for me you guys are the best! Tagging: @pixelcafe-network

[moonstruckme]

Hii

I have a knee injury right now and it's really annoying cause I'm a dancer and I can barely walk right now let alone dance and I really wanted a fic if that's okay. So reader (like me) is really annoyed about her injury and Sirius or James (I don't mind which one) help her. Could you also include something about them piggybacking her up the stairs (cause I cannot go up stairs right now without dying in pain)

Thanks in advance sweets

Thanks for requesting lovely, hope you're feeling better!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 481 words

James comes into the living room and catches you red-handed with the broom and dustpan. 

He freezes, setting his hands on his hips and releasing a breathless guffaw. “Good lord, you’re tenacious.” 

“I thought,” you wheedle, “that since you’re working so hard mopping the kitchen, I could sweep in here so it’s easier when you’re ready to do this part.” 

“And I thought,” counters James, crossing the space between you in a few long strides, “that we agreed you’d rest and let me handle it.” He makes up for the snark with a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before pushing you down onto the couch by your hips. “Turn over the broom, angel.” 

You sigh, holding it out for him. “Agreed is a bit of a stretch.” 

“Your knee and I seem to be in agreement.” He stamps another conciliatory kiss on your head, firm and ardent. “I can see on your face that it’s hurting you. Just give it a bit, stop pushing yourself so hard.” 

“As if you get to talk,” you snipe after him as he goes back to the kitchen. He’d pulled a muscle in his shoulder a few weeks ago, and he’d still insisted on carrying all your groceries himself and lifting heavy things down from tall shelves like recovery was some sort of competition. 

James pretends not to hear you. 

You sigh, big and loud and dramatic, and you hear his quiet laughter from the kitchen. 

“Sorry,” he calls. “Suck it up. I never do my fair share of the chores anyway.” 

“Will you at least bring me the laundry to fold?” 

A beat, and you hear him swing open the door to where the dryer has just finished. “Sure,” he agrees. 

A minute later, your boyfriend is pouring a basket of warm laundry over you on the couch. You smile contentedly, bathed in warmth and softness, until the warm clothes on your abdomen remind you of another concern.

“Um, James?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

James sets down the laundry basket, dark brows weaving together bemusedly. “What for?” 

“I have to pee.” 

And the toilet is upstairs.

“Oh.” His expression clears. As much as you sort of wish he would treat this part like a chore, he loves doing this for you. “No worries.” 

He turns around and squats down. Doesn’t even give you the opportunity to hop onto his back, only grabs your thighs and straightens back up with a quiet grunt. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you’re wrapped more securely around him. 

As James starts up the stairs, he squeezes one of your thighs teasingly in his big hand. “Hope you weren’t holding it on my account. You know you don’t need to apologize for asking for a lift, I don’t mind.” 

“No, I know,” you admit. “I think you may like it a bit too much, actually.” 

Your boyfriend only hums. “Mayhaps.” 

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Tip Your Driver

Week #15 Prompt: Modern AU | Word Count: 4115 | Rating: T | POV: Steve | Characters: Steve, Eddie, Wayne, Robin | Relationships: Steddie, Platonic Stobin | CW: Language, Non-Explicit Mentions of Sex | Tags: Modern Setting AU, Delivery Driver Steve, Rock Star Eddie, Meet Cute, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.

And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.

He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.

The house is really nice.

It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.

Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in. 

No, now he's pretty annoyed.

Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash. 

He's skeptical. 

Steve looks back at the house. 

Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.

At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.

Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.

But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.

"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.

Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off. 

Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.

"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him. 

"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"

Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.

Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.

"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.

"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.

"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.

"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.

Eddie ignores the question from his dad.

"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step. 

Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house. 

Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first. 

Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."

Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."

"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.

He's honestly gorgeous. 

Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.

Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.

Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?" 

"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."

"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.

That's a lot of beans. 

"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries. 

But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now." 

Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.

"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."

"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.

Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.

"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers. 

"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."

"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."

Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie. 

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."

Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"

Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.

They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.

At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside. 

Holy shit. 

That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.

And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two. 

It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.

Now, it's different. 

Robin's gonna shit.

Hot damn.

Thank you, Eddie.

"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter. 

Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day. 

"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs. 

"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction. 

She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles. 

"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.

"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says. 

"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house." 

"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.

Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos." 

"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?" 

He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus. 

He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel." 

She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

No. 

"Him?" 

"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of. 

"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks. 

"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says. 

"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."

"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today." 

Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time." 

"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically. 

At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.

Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.

And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.

Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.

He's gonna risk it.

Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.

The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here. 

There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.

"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing. 

He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual. 

Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time. 

Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb. 

Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.

"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."

"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.

"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"

Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."

Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"

Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.

"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."

"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."

Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.

"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.

The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."

Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.

The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.

Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.

This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.

Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"

Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.

"How's your hip?" Steve asks.

"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.

"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."

Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."

"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.

"Indiana," Wayne says. 

"Hey! For me, too. Small world."

"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"

"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."

Wayne nods.

"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.

"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."

Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."

Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.

"That's me," Steve confirms.

"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."

Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.

Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.

"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."

Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"

"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."

"Don't we all," Steve says.

"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."

Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None. 

"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."

Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.

Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify. 

He doesn't belong here. 

He takes one last look at Eddie. 

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.

And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car. 

"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows. 

"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.

"You're leaving already?"

Steve nods, "Work, you know."

Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."

Steve turns to keep walking.

"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets. 

He looks nervous.

He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn. 

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"

Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."

Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.

Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.

Steve wants to, he really does. 

"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."

"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.

"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns. 

"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.

And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."

"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."

Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."

Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes. 

Well. That's how it goes.

Very, very well.

So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.

"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."

"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.

Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

[lottiies]

THE S. STANDS FOR SLUT

⇢ Leon’s been a horndog over every single one of his coworkers except for you. Your pent up anger finally pays off after you finish a mission with him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, fucking in a forest, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 1k

NOTE: i won’t be able to get any other fics out until like after a week from now. feel free to send ideas for bots…kind of need some. hopefully the video as a header works in the tags if not i’ll change it (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

MASTERLIST

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

Employee of the month? Nah. More like (wannabe) whore of the headquarters. That’s what you deemed Leon to be.

Okay, maybe he didn’t fit your description perfectly, though. It’s not like he got any pussy or dick because they all turned him down. Either way, you couldn’t stand him. The man was practically flirting with anyone who had a developed frontal lobe and yet he had never once made a move on you.

Had it been any other man, you’d be over the moon about it because hello? Who wants a guy who’s trying to get into everyone’s pants? But it’s Leon…the same one who makes a sticky river gush whenever he glances your way.

The fact he didn’t even compliment you made you upset. It wasn’t in a depressing ‘what do they have that I don’t?’ type of way. You were pretty pissed, actually. Maybe he was trying to tick you off on purpose.

Being sent on a mission with him was your last straw.

The tension was palpable. He was such an asshole for messing around with you even during a life threatening scenario! Pinning you against surfaces like you were some damsel in distress, which he knew you weren’t, he’d smirk all smugly when you shoved him off and scowled at him. All the banter got him riled up. What a woman you were. His type to a tee. Felt blood rushing south whenever you handled your gun with expertise.

Like, he wanted to fuck you raw until you needed his help to walk but he also wanted you to slap him around and yank on his hair until he was reduced to a begging mess. Talk about duality. One thing at a time, he must be patient.

He’s not a moron when it comes to your feigned indifference at his antics. If he lacked observational skills, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. You gave him an ego boost. It’s almost like he could see the steam coming right out of your ears whenever he was buttering someone else up, bonus points if it was the receptionist.

Sometimes you got the urge to smack his earpiece comm. Only then would you be spared from Leon's pathetic attempts at flirting with Hunnigan. She’s not interested, Leon!

Anyways.

Mission accomplished. Chopper? Late like usual, what’s new? Here you and Leon were outside in the middle of fucking nowhere, sitting on a log like you were on a camping trip. Yeah, well the tent and high spirit is missing.

You were on edge, and Leon’s idle whistling broke you. God, what a tiny thing to get upset over.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” You were so done with him. Why was he sitting so close to you when there was tons of space on the log? His knee was brushing up against yours.

Leon let out an amused huff, giving your forehead a flick just to spite you.

“So uptight, bet you haven’t gotten dicked down in a while. That’s what you need to blow off some steam.”

“You’re one to talk, when’s the last time you got laid? Last time I checked, your attempts at whoring around have been completely unsuccessful.”

“Ah, so the princess has been keeping tabs on me? How cute. Consider me flattered.”

“I wasn’t.“ You rolled your eyes, glaring at him. “It doesn’t take much effort to figure it out, you just wanna get your dick wet.”

“What, are you obsessed with my dick or something? Jealous?”

“No! Ugh…you’re so fucking gross, Leon.” Giving him a shove on the shoulder didn’t move him at all. He curled a hand around your waist and brought you closer, his lips right against your ear.

“Maybe I don’t have much game, but at least I’m not being a little bitch about it. You just need someone to fuck all that sass outta ya, sweetheart.”

Okay. Wow. Maybe his voice was his superpower because that’s all you could focus on now. Were you really in a forest if you could no longer hear the rustling of tall and mighty trees or the distant buzzing and yapping of insects and birds?

And maybe his voice was hypnotic too because you don’t know how the hell you ended up on your fucking hands and knees. Ouch, your fingers hurt from the way they dug into the dirt but the way Leon was hitting your sweet spot made up for it.

His right glove was all damp from the way he had ground his palm against your clit just a couple minutes prior.

You were both still clothed, just having your pants down enough so you could get to the point.

There was a reason Leon liked you so much, you weren’t all that high maintenance, and you were actually fun. Would any of those receptionists with freshly manicured nails and keratin treatment on their hair be okay with getting dirt and leaves all over them? No! They’d want to fuck in a lavish bedroom with candles and shitty romantic songs playing. Instant boner killer.

His dick wouldn’t get hard for any woman who wasn’t you after this. He didn’t wanna waste a single load, no, they all had to be dumped into you.

“If you wanted to fuck, you could’ve just asked. Could’ve been going at it like rabbits ages ago.”

“I like it better when you don’t talk.” You gritted in response, reaching a hand back to slap the one he had on your hip. He liked the way you bit back, yeah, it had him twitching inside you.

“That right? Your pussy has a mind of its own then, got allllll nice and tight around me right now. She’s begging for me.”

You had always been Leon’s wet dream, but that fantasy felt nowhere as good as the real thing. He has no issue letting you know, either, he’s always had a big mouth.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, bet I’m the first one to stretch it all out.”

“Been looking at your tits all day, don’t they hurt after bouncing from all this running?” He snaked his hand up your shirt and squeezed your chest, rolling the flesh between his fingers before giving one of your hard nipples a pinch.

If you weren’t losing grasp of reality you would’ve been able to notice the distant sounds of rotor blades whirling around.

“Hear that, sweetheart? We gotta hurry.”

Yeah you’d rather die than be found getting fucked by Leon Slut Kennedy. You always thought those facial expressions pornstars made were unrealistic, but now you were mimicking it without much effort. If you snapped a shot of it you’d be famous on Twitter. How embarrassing, or maybe flattering?

“Atta girl, you like it nasty huh?” His hand wrapped around your throat like it was your personal collar and his murmured growl of your name had you seeing stars. He came inside you, pumping you with everything and slapping your ass before pulling your panties up so his load was trapped with you.

What a bastard.

The chopper ride back to HQ was uncomfortable with his cum plugging you up like a damn toy.

“You, me, hotel room after this?” Leon asked all cheekily as he nudged your shoulder, too busy looking at the way you had your legs crossed instead of the pretty view outside the window.

Maybe he’d finally get a good old slap to the face from you like he deserved while you rode him.

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol

Genre: smut and I guess fluff

Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.

***

You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.

"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.

"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.

"Why?" His eyes narrow.

"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"

"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.

"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.

"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.

"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.

"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.

"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.

"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.

"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."

"To each their own." You hum.

"You are a strange woman."

"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.

"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.

"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."

"That's not what I meant."

"No?"

"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.

"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.

"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."

"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.

It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.

"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.

"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.

"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."

"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?

"Yes obviously." He scoffs.

"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"

"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.

"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.

"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.

"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.

"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."

"That's very weird." Tony says.

"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.

"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.

"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.

You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.

"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.

"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.

"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.

"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.

"I don't shake hands." Loki says.

"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking."  Jack says.

"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.

"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.

"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.

"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.

"No." You say firmly.

"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.

"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.

"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.

"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.

"He looks like a jungle cat."

"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.

"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.

"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.

"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."

"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.

"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.

"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.

"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.

"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.

"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.

"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.

"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.

"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.

"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.

"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.

"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.

"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.

"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.

"Well you did quite literally run away."

"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"

"So what?" You shrug.

"People worship me y/n."

"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.

"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.

"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.

"That's rather presumptuous."

"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"

"And where is that?"

"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."

"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.

"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.

"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.

"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.

"My question is the answer to yours."

"I don't follow."

"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Your behavior, is disarming."

"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.

"It's not something I'm used to."

"Right." You hum.

"So?"

"So?"

"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.

"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."

"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."

"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.

"You caught me off guard." He frowns.

"It's not like I couldn't do it again."

"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.

"That's cute." You chuckle.

"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.

"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.

"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."

"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."

"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.

"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.

"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.

"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.

The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.

"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.

"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.

"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.

"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.

"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"

"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.

"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."

"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."

"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.

"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.

"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.

"Do not mock me." He sighs.

"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."

"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."

"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."

"Say it Loki."

"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.

"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."

"I'm sure." He nods.

"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.

"Ask me anything."

"How do you feel about restraints?"

"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."

"How are you with pain?"

"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.

"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."

"I don't need a safewor-"

"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.

"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."

"Gold?"

"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"

"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.

"I can remember gold." He says.

"Then gold it is. And Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.

"I won't need to."

"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."

"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.

"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"

"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.

"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.

"I have homework already?"

"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."

"That's fine with me."

"Toys?"

"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"

"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"

"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.

"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."

"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.

"Do you have any questions?" You ask.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."

"So we can start now?"

"You think you're ready?"

"Yes."

"Kneel."

Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.

"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"

"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.

"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"

"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.

"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.

"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.

"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.

"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.

"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.

"So what?"

"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.

"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.

"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.

"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.

"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.

"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.

"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.

"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.

"Mistress I, I'm close-"

"So soon? Wow." You taunt.

"Can I cum mistress?"

"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.

"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.

"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.

"Please- mistress." Loki pants.

"Please what baby boy?"

"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."

"You need to?"

"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.

"I do love to hear you beg."

"Please!" He whines out.

"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.

"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.

"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"

"You're cruel."

"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."

"I can handle it."

"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.

"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.

"You need water honey."

"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.

***

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ Intruders

➳ Summary: Getting moments to yourselves is hard when you have pets (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, anytime during 6 year timeskip or after

➳ Word count: 1.6k

➳ C/W: Half-assed oral (f!receiving) & p in v

➳ A/N: I just wanted regular casual sex smut (I'm lazy) (By lazy I mean I have like 40 drafts but I'm so busy for the next two weeks I'm going crazy) (I had to take a picture of my own damn socks for this ☠️)

Daryl's hands dragged roughly over your clothed waist, you giggling some against his lips then cheek as he hastily stumbled down the hall with you towards your bedroom, kisses moving down to your jawline as his groping descended to your ass.

“God, sunshine… yer so damn sexy,” He mused, shoving open the door and hitting his heel back against it in an attempt to get it to shut, too focused on peeling your shirt away to take note of any success: closely followed by his own. “Make me need ya so bad.”

Just as he pushed you down, landing you on your back with your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress, a brown blur bounded into the room and up onto the bed.

“Nah-, Dog-.. stop tha’!” Daryl grunted, waving his hand while the shepherd was basically stepping all over you, excitedly wagging his tail and mouth hanging open as he tried to lick your face.

“Hey buddyyy,” You purred, bringing hands to both sides of his head and rapidly scratching the fluffy fur beneath his ears, forcing him back a little so he wasn't directly in your space.

“Don’ indulge him. Want ‘em outta ‘ere!”

“You didn't close the door.” You couldn't hide your playful grin as you sat up, ruffling the dog's scruff and laughing as Daryl scoffed, clapping his hands to try and redirect Dog’s focus from you.

“I tried. Now c'mon … Dog, c'mon. Out.” He patted his back a couple times, earning a look and light cocking of his head. The man raised his eyebrows, snapping his fingers and aggressively pointing towards the exit. “Out.”

Dog turned, nearly hitting you in the face with his tail and jumping from the bed, trotting out of the room as Daryl immediately shut the door behind him. He spun back on his heels, undoing his belt as he'd been intending to before and dropping his jeans to pool on the floor.

He loomed over you, finding your lips in another kiss as he worked the button on yours and helped you wriggle out, hoisting you up the bed so your head rested on the pillows. “See? Got fur all over yer tits. Gon’ have'ah hairball lickin’ it all away.”

“I dunno, maybe you'll be a hot dry-heaver, archin’ yer back ‘n all.”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head, pressing a wet kiss to your neck that cut off your taunting giggle by drawing out a moan. His palms smoothed up the curves of your figure, reaching under and undoing the clasp of your bra before tossing it aside.

“M'tha only one who should be all over these like tha,” Daryl murmured, cupping both breasts and smothering his face between them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and rolling the other between calloused fingertips.

“Mmm, mhm? They all yours Dixon?” You trilled, to which he gave an affirming grunt and sucked a bit harder, sliding a hand down under the hem of your panties and beginning to circle your clit.

As he was starting to set his rhythm, there was an odd scratching at the door and the sound of metal clicking, before it burst open and Dog came running right back into the room, shoving his maw into Daryl's face and driving him back as he tried to pounce on him.

“How tha hell ya-? Dog, stop.”

You were snickering at this point, propping up on your elbows to watch, Daryl leaning up and straddling you as he tried to ward the canine off. “Did you lock the door?”

He bowed his head a little, failing at obscuring his embarrassment with his hair. “Thought I did…. He'sa dog anyway! Shouldn't be openin’ damn doors..”

“He's a smart dog, baby. Don't know whatcha expect from him.”

“I expect him tah not break in ‘ere like ‘es rabid or sum'thin’,” He huffed, slouching for a moment in defeat before grabbing the dog and gently pushing him off the bed, a little harder when he resisted. “Dog. S'aint gon kill ya tah be outta tha room fer thirty minutes.”

“That's cause he knows ‘thirty minutes’ turns into two hours.” Daryl gave you a look, and you traded back an innocent but knowing smile. He begrudgingly swung his leg to have them on one side, sliding off the bed and forcing Dog with him: placing hands on either side of his chest and literally walking him out of the room, once again closing the door, and putting emphasis on the little ‘clink’ when he set the lock.

He let out an exasperated sigh, resuming his position but skipping ahead on his ministrations, having grown impatient. He hooked fingers around the band of your panties, groaning a little at the way you wiggled while he brought them down, flirtatiously biting your lip and covering your breasts.

“Don’ be actin’ like'ah tease.” He parted your legs, hands feeling over your hips and thighs while he lowered his head and drew a slow lick up your center to spread your folds, openly moaning at the taste.

“Fine. Only now cause Dog's been doin’ it for me,” You chuckled, and the archer just narrowed his brows, grasping harder at your flesh as he traced circles around your clit before lapping again and sucking it into his mouth.

“Ya always so fuckin’ wet for me, always gon’ love tha’,” Daryl hummed, tugging you flush against his mouth and delving into your enterace for a quick moment with the thrust of his tongue. Your fingers wove through the roots of his locks, and his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “You gon’ tell me how good it feels tah have me eat'cher perfect pussy?”

You opened to respond, but were interrupted by an obnoxiously loud whimper outside the door, left saying his name for the wrong reason: “Dar…”

“I know, jus’ ignore it,” He said, voice muffled against you, trying to hone both your attentions only on the feeling of his tongue working your core. But the malinois grew noisier, scratching at the hardwood floor and struggling to shove his nose beneath the small gap in the doorframe.

“Daryl.”

He groaned deeply, placing another kiss to your cunt before releasing his hold and unwinding his arms, going to deal with it. “Ts'aint tha kinda whinin’ I wanna be hearin’.”

Turning the handle just slightly to shoo him, Dog barged right back in again, leaped onto the bed again, and just twirled around with a clueless grin to look back at Daryl, confused with how displeased he appeared. He took steps towards the shepherd, hands out, and Dog growled just a little when he moved to rid you of him.

“Ay! Ts'ma woman! Not yers. Get tha hell outta here ‘nd quit buggin’ me,” The man snapped, Dog completely unphased as if the frustration in his tone didn't resonate at all. Daryl gave up and grumbled something under his breath, going to the top drawer of your shared dresser and retrieving a pair of his socks.

He dangled it in the air, the pup immediately locking in on it like he was hypnotized. He barked once, excitedly following as Daryl walked down the hall and threw the bundle down the stairs, which was essentially throwing them into the pits of Hell. Far too many pairs of his socks had met grim fates when Dog would steal them from the laundry, either of you finding him later surrounded by shreds of fabric. But the sacrifice was necessary.

“Lemme have sum damn privacy when Ah'm with yer ma!” He shouted down the steps as that brown flash scurried to descend them. He scoffed again and how simply Dog'd abandoned his efforts, then returned to you, closing the door and locking it once more.

“You finally get him gone?” You taunted as Daryl discarded his boxers and settled over top of you and between your legs once more, silencing your amused remarks as his mouth found yours. You latched your arms around his neck, bringing him close to deepen the kiss as he slicked the tip of his near weeping cock between your folds, edged by all the disturbances.

He waited for a few seconds, like he expected something more, then thrusted into you, head falling to your chest with a pleasure-filled exhale. He maintained the stillness, another beat passing.

“Jus’ go, angel. He's distracted,” You reassured him with a kiss to his hairline, and slowly he pulled back before rocking in again. Daryl kept a steady hand on your hip, the other propping him up by your shoulder as he began to relax, garnering speed and listening to every filthy noise your bodies made when you connected, his grunts reverberating against your collarbone.

“That's the kinda gruntin’ I wanna be hearin’.” Daryl chucked at your comment, palm leaving your curve so the pad of his thumb could press against your clit, massaging it in pace with his movements and drawing out a whine from you.

He threw his head back to clear the strands of hair from his face, looking down to watch you for a moment; watch himself disappear in and out of your walls then came near again. “Shit, ya feel so fuckin’ good…”

But then another something hopped onto the opposite side of the bed, much lighter and more sophisticated. Door was still shut, still locked.

“Sweetheart… you forgot the cat.”

Daryl didn't even glance back, rolling his eyes and muttering another curse. “Ion even care anymore.” And he just found you in another kiss.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

[licensedproldier]

highlights from the brennan hank interview (aka taking notes on things that i liked or didn't know)

HE STARTED ATTENDING COLLEGE WHEN HE WAS 14?????

immediate jump off topic from hank to ask him about d20 (this happened while fhjy was airing)

"and the greatest project of all, my wonderful family with my wife isabella roland"

bonding over their children

brennan and hank's son both corrected their father's bedtime stories 💀

many elaine lee shoutouts

"his dad met my mom and fell in love" "you did that" "we did that, parent-trapped them"

was pulled out of school in 4th grade for homeschooling because the bullying was so bad....

started a company when they (he and his brother) were fifteen?? called Bootleg Adventures

hank's little awed hiss of "what" to the above piece of information

GOT PART OWNERSHIP OF THE WAYFINDER COMPANY AT 15

"knowledge is something that, when you share it, there's just more. there's no scarcity"

hank staring off into space slightly looking like brennan just blew his mind (we're 11 minutes in)

"we were 14 year old philosophy majors, if you can imagine anything more normal than that"

brennan unable to resist doing fun voices for the people he talks about

he wouldve loved to work at wayfinder full time and said back then hey maybe ill become a famous internet comedian or something and that's how i can help camp. now he's got texts from the staff saying how a bunch of dimension 20 fans have joined and its been a huge boon for them that way 🥺

"it's funny when a really bad plan works. dont make that plan."

"every new community-- is this too sad? no its true" THOSE THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE

anyway "for every new community i start with the presupposition that someone is going to pick me up and put me in the trash can" 😭

hank sniping him through the duplex door with "[when you do that] you kind of imagine yourself to be the value you're delivering rather than yourself, or that your value is in what you deliver and not who you are" and brennan going 😐 "that's a great point man"

both of them turning to do pained smiles at the camera 😭

"i think the value is in who you are" "that's really sweet i appreciate that" "but i also love that you deliver"

brennan quoting mary oliver

im starting to feel a little called out guys

robert mckee "stories are not about their premises they're about their conclusions"

brennan also staring off into space slightly thinking about what hank said

the REAL college advice brennan is giving is reportedly "put an egg in your ramen" because thats how you stop your eyes from going "matte finish"

shoutout to vanessa's dumplings for keeping this man alive

"i am ozymandias nerd of nerds, gaze upon my banner and despair"

the moment he felt like something changed was walking into C2E2 and seeing that the biggest hanging banner in the convention hall was of fantasy high. or, as brennan put it, "my dumb face"

"my friends moved in with their partners, the apartment i had with them scattered to the wind, the woman i was dating dumped me after three weeks, and i won a bunch of money on Who Wants to Be a Millionare" "wh- what???"

he taught emily, murph, siobhan, and zac how to play dnd 🥺 and was running a home game for lou at the same time

got hired at um, actually because his name was getting around for being a big dork

zac stepped down from troopers and sam liked brennan's character from a previous casting call (tim curry eating pizza) so he brought him in

its very charming the detail with which brennan remembers these important moments in his life

became a full time cast member in the same week he started dating izzy! "hard to beat week gang!"

"they told us they were launching dropout and everyone had to make a show, which, if you're been trying to make a show your whole life, that's like saying 'bad news guys, there's 24 birthday cakes in the break room and everyone has to eat a whole birthday cake'."

brennan was making a document for a market pitch on an actual-play show when he was called into office and THEY pitched HIM the idea of an actual-play show

"i guess i have tumbled through life to end up here ready to do this"

truly like. one of the guys of all time.

"some of the things that didn't make sense about you make more sense now" hank talking indirectly about how amazing he found all the moving parts of mentopolis and now getting to hear about how long and how many time he's done storytelling it makes sense

"yeah its the one skill"

"i wanted to tell stories before i was anything else"

🎉anti-capitalist rant🎉

"people used to say 'is ucb a cult' and i'd say 'in a cult, somebody is making money'"

HIGH FIVE!!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Foxes II

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: You draw Jenni

One of Jenni's favourite things is a slow day off after a match. She doesn't have to go out. She doesn't have to run or kick a ball no matter how much she loves it.

She can just sit, stretched out on the sofa, typing away at her laptop. You sit squished between her and the back of the sofa, down by her legs where you can rub your fingers on her fuzzy pyjama bottoms.

They match yours and you like that.

They're fluffy and that feels good under your fingers.

Jenni looks down at you fondly. She hadn't gotten you dressed today, content to let you just chill for the day in your favourite pyjamas.

You have major bedhead too but you don't really like the feeling of the hairbrush so Jenni's glad that she had the foresight to braid up your hair last night so it's not a tangled mess and she can go without dragging a brush through it today.

"What do you want for lunch today, Osita?"

You look up at her, brows furrowed in confusion. "Panini," You say.

That's your go-to when Jenni orders in. There's a café nearby that delivers and you've been obsessed with the paninis since you first went in. The workers just adore you there and whenever you go, you come out with a perfect panini and a new fox sticker to add to your collection.

"Mhm," Jenni says," Your normal?"

You nod. Your fox ear headband slips briefly over your eyes and you push it back so you can see Jenni.

"Alright, Osita. Let me up so I can call."

You pout a little when she asks that because she's comfortable and you just want to lay on Mami forever. But you let her up anyway because your normal panini is the best panini in the world and it's the only thing you want to eat today.

You watch Mami go to order the food and you huff, moving to the floor. Your sketchpad and pencils lay there abandoned and you pick them up. Usually, you enjoy drawing the same fox over and over again but today you do something different.

Your pencil scrawls over the paper until a Mami fox and a baby fox appear on your page. You tear it out of your book, slamming your eyes shut at the horrific sound it makes.

It bounces in your ears as you wander over to Mami. She's still on the phone because she's well known at the café and the elderly couple that run it like to talk.

You tug on her pyjama bottoms and she looks down.

"One second...Osita, is something wrong? What's up?"

You hand here your drawing. "Us," You grunt before turning on your heels to return to the sofa where some of your fox toys wait for you.

Jenni watches you go, returning to her conversation before looking down at the picture you've given her. You don't like sharing your work, mainly because after the third time of the same picture, people get bored.

The picture you've drawn this time is different.

It's still clearly of foxes because Jenni knows you'd rather do nothing than draw anything other than a fox. There's a big fox sitting down with a little baby fox next to it. It's a line drawing and not coloured in at all which is a little different than normal but Jenni thinks is sweet.

Your spelling is coming along well though because you've scrawled 'Mami' and 'Me' under each of them so Jenni knows who they are.

She doesn't want to fold up this picture because it's special so she gently tucks it between the pages of a magazine.

The picture circles through Jenni's mind through the next few weeks until she decides on a plan one random evening as you sleep on her chest like you used to do as a baby.

It's a bit spur of the moment but once it's done Jenni can't help but think it's perfect.

"Mami," You say as your babysitter leaves," You're back."

"I am," She says," Can I show you something?"

You nod.

There's very little space on Jenni's arms that isn't heavily tattooed but there's a patch on her inner arm that's just big enough for a Mami fox and a baby fox.

"My drawing..." Tentatively, you reach out to trace your fingers across the tattoo, giggling when Jenni flutters kisses over your face.

At first, she thinks that's it. You're not the biggest fan of touch even from her, at least not skin-to-skin so Jenni's a little surprised when you wiggle up to her chest the next day off.

Most of the time, you stick lower by her legs because you like the feeling of her pyjamas against your face but Jenni welcomes you up higher with her as you try to find a comfortable position.

Your head rests against her collarbone as she types on her laptop, occasionally tilting her head down to give you a kiss.

Your hand reaches out slowly to touch Jenni's skin. You freeze but Jenni doesn't react in any way. A singular finger gently traces over her new tattoo.

Mami put your drawing on her body. Tattoos are forever, you know that and Mami put your drawing on her body forever.

That makes you feel nice.

Of course, the kisses she gives you whenever you complete a full trace of the tattoo is nice too.

[wosoamazing]

Promesa Part 2

Warnings: Mentions of Surgery, Mentions of the RFEF past abuse, being sick (very end section)

Notes: Could be crap, could be good, I've been sitting on this for a while now but I've decided to post it, I don't like it but idk if that is just me or not so yeah (It’s a bit bitsy just as a warning) 1.7k words

You entered the apartment and slowly crutched your way over to the couch, Ingrid following closely behind, before she helped you sit down and lift your leg onto the couch, and said she would be right back with some pillows and blankets. However the exhaustion started to take over, and you laid back against the couch cushion, Ingrid finding herself caught up in a conversation with Mapi, along with almost the whole Spanish team over the phone, all wondering how your surgery went and if you were okay or not..

When Ingrid came back with the pillows and the single doona that was purposely bought for ‘couch recovery’, she was greeted with a very similar image from when Mapi had done her meniscus. You were now resting your head against the arm of the couch as you slept, Ingrid decided just to place the couch throw under your leg to slightly elevate it, so she didn’t disturb you, knowing you were due for your pain meds in half an hour anyway, so she would make sure to properly elevate your leg then. She took a quick photo before going back into the kitchen showing Mapi.

You sat on the physio bed nervously, Ingrid and Mapi sat either side of you on stools.

“We’ve looked at what the surgeon sent over, and have had many in depth discussions as a team and although it might not be what you want to hear, we think our best option is to be looking at a 9-12 month recovery.” You nodded wordlessly

“So week 1 & 2 we are looking at almost complete immobilisation. So completely reliant on crutches for movement, non-weight bearing. Mapi and Ingrid have said they are staying with you these next two weeks so we have no concern about that,” again you nodded wordlessly, as the thoughts in your head started to overwhelm you, mixing in with and blocking out his words.

That's the whole season. They’ve cancelled their holiday for me. Two weeks, of nothing.

“Game ready for icing”

Can’t do anything for the next two weeks

“Compex”

No olympics. No Spanish team caps. No medal

“Can you stop for a moment please,” you vaguely heard your sister say. Mapi had noticed you were spacing out and assumed it was because you were overwhelmed, she placed her hand gently on your thigh, to ‘bring you back’ before continuing to talk, “I’m sorry, I know this meeting was for us to talk through the recovery process and everything however I think we need to do this differently, do you maybe have a print out version of everything you were going to tell us today and we could all read through that at our own pace, maybe if needed we could book another appointment for next week, to talk more and answer any questions,” this time it was the physio’s turn to nod wordlessly, before he left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out before tears started to roll down your cheeks.

“Hey, no. There is no reason to say sorry. We shouldn’t have just assumed what works for us would work for you,” your sister told you as she stood up before wrapping her arm around your shoulders, “we’ll go home, you can read through it, either by yourself or with us and then we can talk. We’ll get through this together. Promesa.”

It had been 4 weeks since your surgery, and you were still using crutches. In three days Mapi and Ingrid were leaving for the USA meaning you would be left home alone, so you needed to start trying to be more independent, which started with you carrying your own breakfast bowl to the couch.

“I can take it, don't worry about it, it’s nothing,” Ingrid insisted.

“No, it’s fine, I’ve got it,” you snapped back, and although Ingrid could see this going badly maybe this would be the breakthrough you needed, and with just you and her home it might be good, Mapi was good and all however she didn’t make you talk, Ingrid did, which although you never wanted to do when you were upset, you were always grateful for it later, talking prevented the build up of emotions. Two steps later there was a loud smash followed by a crash, your breakfast bowl ending up on the floor, smashing, yoghourt and muesli going everywhere, soon followed by your crutches which you dropped, before you let out a small yelp, having tensed your Quad too much, causing a pain to shoot through your leg.

-

“What’s all this about?” Ingrid asked as she sat on the couch next to you and you just shrugged at her, she had given you time to stew after placing an icepack on your knee, as she didn’t want to leave the mix of yoghourt and ceramic on the floor, “I’m not Mapi, I’m going to keep pushing, you know that, you need to talk, it’s all well and good to let the tears out but you also need to get your feelings out with words too”

“I’m useless, I can’t do anything, and you and Mapi and everyone on the team is going to the US soon and I’m going to be alone, I need to figure out how to take care of myself, do simple everyday tasks,”

“You’re not staying here, you’re coming with us, why’d you assume we’d leave you alone?”

“Because I’m a burden, I’ll be a distraction, I can’t even carry anything myself,” Ingrid looked at you a little shell shocked, “the team doesn’t want me there, I wouldn’t be any help anyway, it’s not like I can play,”

“Yes we do, we all care about you, I can promise you every single person on the team loves you, they want you there, I want you there, Mapi wants you there,” Ingrid told you.

“Can I sit with Alexia on the plane? You and Mapi deserve a break, you’ve done so much over these past few weeks,”

“I don’t know if Mapi will let that happen,”

“She will, because I want to, she likes to make me happy,” you told Ingrid before letting it sink in, “she’s been seeing the team psychologist because of me hasn’t she.”

“Not exactly, she feels guilty, she was already annoyed with herself that she had let you go without her, after everything that happened, she felt like she should’ve been there with you, to protect you, she was angry with herself at the fact that she let you go but she still wouldn’t go herself, and then you got injured and she wasn’t there, she was worried, she was upset and angry with herself,” Ingrid said almost holding back tears.

“I’m sorry,” you said before you lent into Ingrid.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, you’ve done nothing wrong,”

It had been 10 months, and you were still yet to make your return, you’d made your return to the bench but not the pitch, you were frustrated to say the least, you were back to training properly, you were doing excellently, you’d been performing better in training than you had before your injury, and yet you still couldn’t get any minutes. 

“Okay Nena, that’s it, let it out, estic aquí (I’m here),” Alexia said as she rubbed your back, whilst you hunched over the bin in the gym, most definitely having overworked yourself in your extra gym session.

You slid down the wall to the ground, trying to catch your breath after just emptying your entire stomach contents into the bin. Alexia had left, you knew she’d be back, you were just hoping it wasn’t with Mapi or Ingrid.

-

“You went too hard today, sí?” Alexia sat down next to you, handing you your water bottle with cold water in it.

“Sí, I just want to get back on the pitch, but apparently I’m not okay mentally,” you replied.

“Mental health is important though, no?”

“Yes, but what do they expect, of course I’m not okay mentally, I’ve worked the hardest I ever have for the past 10 months so I can get back onto that pitch and they won’t let me on it, I’m never going to get on the pitch, I may as well just quit now, what more do they want from me?” you harshly said as hot tears streamed down your cheeks, Alexia hummed in response.

“Go shower, I’m going to talk to Pere,” Alexia said and before you had time to object she was up and gone.

-

“Nena is coming home with me,” Alexia told your sister, as her and Ingrid walked into the locker room.

“Por qué (why?)”

“Because when she walks out of that shower, you’re going to tell her the reason she hasn’t played again yet, and when you do she isn’t going to be happy,” and almost as if on cue you walked out of the showers, “go ahead, tell your Nena,”

“I’m the reason you’re not playing yet, I told them you weren’t ready yet, that your head wasn’t in the right place, I promised to protect you and that’s what I’m doing,”

“You’re not protecting me by saying I wasn’t ready to return to the pitch, you’re hurting me, all this time I thought it was me, I thought I was doing something wrong, but it was you, you’re the reason I just trained so hard I threw up, you’re the reason I’ve been crying myself to sleep every night, you’re-” “Nena,” Mapi cut you off.

“No, I don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped before walking out of the locker room, Alexia scrambling to get your stuff.

Leaving Mapi and Ingrid standing in the middle of the locker room, Mapi wondering where she went wrong and Ingrid wondering how she was meant to handle this situation. Meanwhile you were sobbing into Alexia’s shoulder as she stood with her arms tightly wrapped around you in the middle of the car park.

[loveshotzz]

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Melt With You

summary: A cancelled movie night, Steve’s first high, and a realization you weren’t expecting.

wc: 2.7k

warnings: my blog is 18+ but this will be pretty safe for work. takes place in 1988 when Elvira Mistress of the Dark came out. post season four but no mention of the upside down, fem!reader, mentions of weed smoking, mentions of being stoned and being high for the first time, mutual pining, cuddling.

A/N: first I want to dedicate this to @bewilderedbunny for pointing out that Steve Harrington is Bob coded which made me fall even more in love with him. You can also thank @dr-aculaaa for putting this brain worm in my head where it spiraled and then she entertained it again and it spiraled some more. p.s. I know her movie macabre was cancelled in 86 but brought back in the 90’s but let’s pretend.

mini series masterlist -> chapter two 🎃

Steve was close. Too close.

His thigh is warm pressed against yours, long legs spread wide taking up most of the room on the couch. The cedar that clings to the threads of his maroon sweater mix with the old spice that he’s almost sprayed too much of, and you’re surprised at how much you actually like it. You blame it on the joint you both shared, and you do it again when his socked foot touches yours from under the blanket draped across your laps and your heart rate kicks up a few beats. This was just Steve, your new friend. Eddie’s new unlikely friend.

The living room in your apartment is dimly lit in a mess of Halloween colored string lights strung up along your walls that Eddie helped you hang up last week on the first official day of fall. They fill the small space in bursts of warm orange pumpkins and tiny purple bats while Elvira Mistress of The Dark glows from the screen of your TV in front of your couch. The couch where Steve is still sitting too close. 

The flicker of your candles dances across your walls and you’re tempted to blow them all out when they keep catching the corner of your eye. Maybe that's why you can't focus on the movie you were so excited about. The movie you raised a big fuss over when the group canceled your weekly night in favor of dates and work. The movie Steve still offered to watch with you saying he had no plans anyway. You really contemplate it when you realize it’s filling your living room with the kind of smell that’s eerily similar to the one embedded in the leather of the BMW you recently started getting more rides in.

When Steve laughs you can smell the berry on his breath from the Red Vines he can’t stop eating, his fingertips glisten from the half finished tub of popcorn on the coffee table. His arm brushes the length of yours when he leans forward to toss the almost empty pack of candy with the rest of the snacks and your stare immediately finds the sliver of tan skin revealed to you when the maroon hem rides up. Stomach flipping when you spot more freckles than the ones that seem to dot the endless expanses of his perpetually sun kissed skin. 

“Wow, she’s funny!” He snickers like he just got a good surprise, leaning back into the cushions. “I didn’t know she was so funny.”

The shift in his weight makes the couch dip, bringing you closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. Why is your chest tight?

Turning your head, you meet his blood shot, heavy lidded gaze and lazy smile that pushes up his pink cheeks. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Steve Harrington so content. So relaxed. It might have something to do with the fact that the joint you both shared was his first.

“Beauty, humor and brains? How could you go wrong?” You grin and it makes the amber in his eyes light up.

“Yeah,” He stares at you for a second longer than he’d have the guts to on a normal day before adding with a sigh “tell me about it.”

There was something different about the way he was looking at you tonight, and it makes your palms sweat. The fly away honey strands that stick out wildly by his ears look softer than normal too. Why do you want to find out? Clearing your throat, he raises his eyebrows up at you in an unphased offering of his attention.

“How are you doing big boy? You coughed quite a bit earlier.” His gaze narrows at the nickname letting you know that Steve was still very much in there.

“I think it’s perfectly normal for someone who hasn’t smoked before to cough when they take an accidental big hit,” he challenges, his sock covered toes finding yours again seemingly on their own, “and to answer your rudely asked question, I’m having a very nice time.”

He tries to keep his face straight but the smile that stretches a mile wide across yours makes him snort, the whites of his perfect teeth blinding in the dark when you wiggle your feet with his. 

“Good, I wouldn’t want Robin to come hunt me down or something.” You giggle leaning back letting your own high relax you into the couch.

Your eyes find Elvira’s generous cleavage on the screen as you try to ignore the feeling of Steve’s hand touching yours when he scratches his thigh and again when he leaves it there. 

“Robin won’t care, it’s Nance you gotta worry about. Worry wart Wheeler.” The nickname rolls off his tongue too easily and makes you both stop, letting the sounds of the towns committee trying to get Elvira out fill the silence before you both fall into a fit of laughter.

It was the kind of laughter that left hot tears streaming down your faces as you leaned even further into each other trying to catch your breath, only for one of you to mutter ‘worry wart wheeler’ when the other would finally be holding it together just to start all over again. By the time it was done, and the last few chuckles subsided, his head had found a new home on your shoulder with his forehead buried in the crook of your neck. 

The smell of his hairspray, and the soft flyaways you’d wondered about tickle your nose with his hair pressed to your cheek. Your socked feet stay tangled together as you try not to think about the size difference and that stupid saying you’d heard in middle school, and you definitely try not to think about how the tip of his pinky bumps into the side of your hand and how you don’t hesitate to hook it with yours.

Cozy. Too Cozy.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you both when your attention is finally brought back to the movie and you wonder if he’s having the same existential crisis as you at how good this feels. Eddie would never let you live it down. You and the hair?! Steve’s amused hum breaks you out of your train of thought and you already know you’ll have to watch this again when you aren’t so…distracted. 

Elvira and Bob are fighting with a monster she accidentally concocted inside of a pot instead of the casserole she was trying to make, and his finger tightens around yours when Bob almost loses the fight before he shakes against you with a chuckle. The longer the movie goes on, the more you start noticing Steve’s similarities to the hunk who stole the Mistress of the Dark’s affections, mumbling an ‘oh my god’.

God dammit, you have a crush on Steve Harrington.

The weed makes the realization floor you more than it probably would on a normal day, because you aren’t blind, anyone could tell you how handsome the former king of Hawkins is. But no one could have warned you about how soft he is, especially right now with sleepy eyes and messy hair that smells like pine and too much hair product. They wouldn’t be able to tell you how big of a dweeb he is, or as Robin affectionately calls him a ‘dingus’. They also don’t know how good of a friend he is to anyone who’s lucky to have him, like refusing to let you spend the night alone and watching a movie he knew you were excited about just because he’d actually listened when you talked about it for weeks, even saving you the first copy in Keith’s possession. 

Too bad you’ve barely retained any of it. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, you feel the slight turn of his head and the heavy weight of his stare on the side of your face. You try not to give yourself away and keep your gaze locked on the TV where the town has Elvira ready to be burned at the stake, and Bob has to rescue her. You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, the universe just rubbing it in now. 

The side of your body he’s been leaning against starts to go numb, and no matter how much you want to stay exactly like this for whatever is left of the night, the need for circulation becomes too much. Your eyes flick down to his that haven’t haven’t wavered and that slow happy smile spreads across his pink lips when they meet. 

“You doing okay, honey.” The nickname he’s called you sarcastically in arguments sounds different when it’s wrapped in affection like this. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying -,” nerves make your throat close up and you have to clear them out before you finish, “not that I’m not enjoying this. My arm is just kind of going numb.”

Heat rises to your cheeks with embarrassment that you know is misplaced, and his eyes go wide when your words click. His reaction is fast despite the smoked joint that's snuffed out in an empty coke can on the table when he pulls away. The warmth of his body that’s invaded what feels like every inch of yours for the last hour is gone and the tightness in your chest worsens now that you miss it. Stupid crush. Stupid blood flow. 

“Oh my god, sorry, sorry, I was just so comfortable I wasn’t even thinking.” There’s stress in his tone that you haven’t heard all night and you decide that you hate it, he’s always stressed.

“Hey,” Your fingers curl around his bicep, and it flexes under the thick material of his sweater when his eyes meet yours, making you forget how to speak for a moment, “if we lay down on our sides we’ll - we’ll be more comfortable?” 

Your heart beats loud in your ears after you throw out your suggestion fully knowing there’s gotta be less than twenty minutes left of the movie at most. 

“Yeah, we can do that, like, big spoon?” He points to himself, with eyes as red as his cheeks before pointing to you with a small grin, “little spoon?”

You bite your bottom lip to contain the smile that threatens to break across your face, and it only makes his grow. 

“Yeah, just like that Harrington.” You giggle and you don’t miss the kind of glint in his eyes that sparkles because of it.

“Harrington? I thought I was big boy?” He mocks with fake offense, clumsily clambering back onto the couch letting himself fully extend.

His socked feet almost hang off the armrest but the problem is quickly solved when he turns onto his side leaving just enough room for you. One of his big hands patting the cushions in an invitation that makes you both laugh. 

“I thought you hated that nickname?” you tease, butterflies that never existed before erupting when he watches you with soft eyes climb into the spot next to him.

Your head lands in the crook of his elbow, amber and spice enveloping you while one of his long fingers curl around your hip not hesitating to pull you flush against his chest like he missed you. Maybe you weren’t the only one with a wandering mind tonight. 

“I don’t,” he agrees, lips coming up right next to your ear and you wonder if he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, “but I kinda like it when you say it.”

Your body curls into him when you giggle with a throb in your core that makes your thighs press together. Steve chuckles, hooking his chin over your shoulder and his feet find yours at the end of the couch like they did under the blanket. Grabbing the throw off the floor, you drape it back over the two of you when you both finally get situated. 

He feels like he’s everywhere and it’s even harder to concentrate like this, especially when all his fingers are laced with yours now. The pad of his thumb rubs circles on the top of your hand, and you can feel the way his cheeks push up into a grin every time something makes him laugh. You spend the last bit of what’s left of the movie tangled up with him like this, and neither one of you try to move when the credits roll or when the screen goes black. 

The air buzzes with the kind of tension that’s laid dormant until there’s nothing to distract you from it anymore in the new silence. His breath fans hot across your neck while the strokes of his thumb get slower, adding a little more pressure to the muscle there, and feels good enough to have your eyes flutter closed. 

Maybe it’s the darkness of your living room, or the way the tip of his nose starts to trace the shell of your ear but you get the surge of confidence you need to turn around and face him. Steve doesn’t protest at all, letting you move with the kind of ease that makes you wonder if he was waiting for it all along. The small smile on his face tells you he absolutely was.

The new angle has you looking up at him from under your lashes, while his hand that held yours all night covers the middle of your back bringing you to his chest, getting you just as close as before. Your legs slot together while warm lights flicker across his face, they bounce and reflect off the lingering glaze that coats his eyes. Embers burning in a mossy ground. 

It starts to feel like Steve Harrington wants to kiss you, and you’d be lying if your said you didn’t want him too.

“Hi” You whisper, the corners of your lips pulling up because they can’t help it when he looks at you like this.

“Hi” the rich honey of his voice comes out low as he dips his head down to rest on his forearm right above yours.

The tips of your noses are dangerously close to touching, and you swear you hear his breath hitch when your feet find his again. Holding his gaze, you silently dare him to read your mind so you don’t have to say it out loud. You do it first.

“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You try not to think about how it sounds like something you’d say at the end of a date.

“Me too, I’m uh -“ a puff of hot air fans across your face when he laughs, and you notice his first sign of nerves all night, “I’m glad I didn’t make a fool of myself or anything.” 

“I have to say I’m impressed, you handled your first joint like a pro.” Your hands dare to run up his chest, plucking a piece of lint from the threads of his sweater. You feel the way the muscles in his stomach flex for you, and you have to bite back your smirk.

“I had good company is all.” He hums, the blunt ends of his nails scratching along the dip of your back, before whispering “Is this okay?”

Your eyes flutter shut with contentment you haven’t felt in a while, your whole body melting into his with a mumbled ‘mmmhm’

“Does Elvira have any other movies we could watch sometime?” His question makes your eyes pop open, and he tries to look as nonchalant as possible before adding, “you know just me and you.”

“Not a movie, per say but she has a show I like to watch where she does funny commentary on B rated horror films.” Your two feet trap one of his between them playfully to try and ease the nerves he shouldn’t have, earning you that megawatt smile that’s made half the ladies in Hawkins swoon. 

So, Steve Harrington wasn’t a mind reader.

“That sounds like fun,” He lets out a relieved sigh that you didn’t know he was holding, close enough now for your noses to touch.

“Yeah? You wanna come have fun with me?” You tease, but it comes out sounding like a double entendre that makes your skin heat up, especially when Steve closes his eyes and groans. The nails that scratch your back freeze as he tries regaining some semblance of self control. Licking his lips, he exhales a breath out of his nose before he speaks,

“Abso-“

His answer gets cut off by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the bellowing voice of the only other person who has keys to your apartment.

“I’ve come for boobies and I brought beer! Better late than never am I ri- Whoa, whoa, WHOA, what is going on here?” Eddie’s shock is quickly replaced by amusement, dimples poking deep holes in his cheeks when he grins wildly as he takes in the two of you on the couch.

What was going on here?

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

A+ in sex ed

pairing: leon x reader

cw: smut (like pure filth), daddy kink, implied dd/lg, masturbation, p in v, creampie (hate that word), not proofread

summary: leon teaches you how to touch yourself for the second time this week

a/n: leon wearing reading glasses is my kink

wc: 1.5k

You leave your polka-dot-covered socks on during sex. Leon pulls your feet up to his chest and gives himself to you in shallow thrusts. The angle at which the head of his cock rubs your g-spot feels heavenly. You snake your hand down between your thighs to play with your clit, but the dewy-eyed look you give Leon tells him that you want something from him. You’re asking him silently to help you as your mouth cannot speak when you’re chewing on your bottom lip. He misunderstands somehow. He gently removes your hand and replaces it with his, and you make a noise of disapproval.

“What?” he asks softly, lovingly.

You don’t respond with words, but he decides to let you off the hook because you’re so cute - and you look overwhelmed. You move your hand back down to your clit. You lift his fingers and put yours in their place, but before Leon can complain, you use your other hand to place his fingers back over your own.

“You want me to do it, but you wanna help?” he asks for clarification.

You nod and hum in approval. “Teach me how,” you say.

He remembers earlier that week when he sat you in front of a mirror and showed you how to touch yourself. You’d walked up to Leon while he was typing something up on his computer. You tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to you. He was busy, but not busy enough to ignore you. It wouldn’t work anyway. 

“Daddy,” you said, “Need help.”

“C’mere,” he said and lifted you onto his lap, “What do you need Daddy to help you with?”

“Hurts,” you mumbled, looking down.

“Hurts where?” 

You shook your head and didn’t meet eyes with him. 

Ah. He knew exactly what you were thinking. “If you’re not gonna say it, you have to show me.”

You took his hand and placed it between your thighs. 

“There?” he asked, tapping his fingers over your core.

You nodded,cheeks flushed with embarrassment and a hint of excitement in your smile.  

“Your princess parts?” He knew it made you flustered when he said it like that. “Did you try taking care of it yourself?”

“I don’t know how,” you said. Which was a blatant lie and Leon knew it. You’re a full-grown adult. He saw a vibrator in your bedroom once. But, he played your game anyway. 

“So, you want Daddy to take care of it. Is that it?”

“No, I want Daddy to teach me.”

He assumed you were just being needy, maybe even lazy. No, this was a well-thought out roleplay scenario. Interesting choice, he thought. His eyes were killing him anyway since he’d been working in front of a screen for so long. He took his reading glasses off, set them on the table and hoisted you up. 

“Let’s go to my room,” he said, carrying you upstairs. He dropped you at the foot of his bed. “I’m going to get something, and then I’ll be back. Be a good girl and wait here.” He knew you’d whine or get up the minute he walked away from you if he didn’t tell you in advance. 

Leon returned a moment later with a full-length mirror that he kept in the guest room. Luckily, he was a minimalist of sorts, so he had space to place it in front of his bed - in front of you. 

Leon’s big arms picked you up once again to move you into a position where he could comfortably sit behind you. You never minded the way he manhandled you. Leon spread his legs so that you could sit between them. 

“We’ve gotta get you undressed, so we can see your pretty lil princess parts, baby.”

You lifted your arms so Leon could take off your shirt. You’d given up on bras long before you’d started playing as his little girl, so the single layer between your tits and Leon’s hands had been removed. Fucking finally. It was hard for Leon not to get distracted by them - he squeezed them like stress balls and made them bounce in the mirror. It seemed like Daddy forgot his role. It wasn’t Leon’s fault that your tits made his brain turn to mush. 

“Daddy,” you whined, “not helping.”

“Daddy’s sorry,” he said, planting a kiss on the nape of your neck. “Lemme get these off.” You lifted yourself up enough for him to pull your shorts down. Leon could’ve been more efficient and taken your panties off at the same time, but selfishly, he wanted a good look at the cute bunny print and pink bow at the top. 

“Look how pretty you are.” Leon pointed at the mirror with one hand while playing with the waistband of your panties, stuck between the promise he made to help you, and the urge to flip you around and fuck you with your panties on. There was no way you couldn’t feel the hard on growing in his pants when you sat like this. 

“Gimme your hand.” He held his out and waited for you to comply. Then, brought it down to your cunt - now bare, since he’d stripped you of your panties. He guided you, his finger over yours, rubbing your clit in small circles. 

So, when you ask him to teach you how to do the same thing for the second time this week… 

“You already know how Baby,” he says, though he obliges, guiding two of your fingers in a circular motion.

“Forgot, Daddy,” you lie.

“Forgot? Already?” You think you can get away with a fib, but he sees right through you. His smart little baby can’t fool him. Regardless, Leon plays along. He remembers how your face lit up at the opportunity to be his little student in the school of sex. “Daddy will remind you.”

He does exactly what you ask because he’s a sucker for you. Plus, your head gets fuzzy anytime his dick is inside you. Sometimes, his little girl is a little dumb - or at least, knows how to play dumb to get attention. 

Leon sticks two of his fingers in his own mouth, prompting you to do the same. It’s self-indulgent. You’re more than wet enough. Soaking, really. But Leon likes the way you look with an occupied mouth. 

“Good girl.” He takes your fingers – now covered in your own saliva - and brings them back down to your clit. 

You take your thumb - the one on your other hand - stick it in your mouth and suck. Maybe you’ve developed a bit of an oral fixation, Leon thinks. You seem to be successfully self-soothing, but he tries to step in any way. This time, you accept without hesitation. You suck his thumb like the baby you are and you look into his eyes in the same way you do when you’re on your knees.

It’s almost too much for him. You know what you’re doing to him. He can see the way you’re giving him blowjob eyes. It’s intentional. You really are his smart little girl.

“Baby,” he says, looking into your eyes, “Daddy’s gonna cum soon. Where do you want it?” He removes his thumb from your mouth to let you answer, but you grab his wrist and shove it back into its rightful place between your lips. He should scold you, he should stop touching you, or at least slow the pace of his thrusts, but he’s so close that he doesn’t care. His dick has taken over for his brain, and he can’t think about anything else other than his impending orgasm. 

“On your tummy?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Your face?” he asks, though he’s fairly certain that’s not the correct answer.

Your dissent vehement this time. The vigor with which you shake your head almost makes him laugh.

“Inside?” he asks, and it almost doesn’t matter because, with the way you’re sucking him in, he’d be lucky to pull out in time.

As expected, you nod excitedly.

“Do you deserve it?” he teases, though his tone falters, and the sharp intake of breath at the end of his statement is clear to both of you. It’s a futile effort, regardless. He’ll give in, and you both know it, but the thought of him pulling out just to be cruel makes your eyes well up with tears, and he can’t stand to see it.

“‘S okay,” he manages to get out, “would never disappoint my baby like that.”

Your inner walls clench around him, and the force of his orgasm takes him by surprise.

“Ah, fuck,” he groans as his hips sputter. He can feel your pussy spasm around him, and it sends aftershocks rushing through him. It’s rare that he lets himself cum before you. It almost feels shameful. It feels like he’s betraying you since he’s supposed to be the one taking care of you. But, in that moment, when he feels your orgasm rise as his falls, it feels euphoric. 

Plus, you love when Leon cums inside you. The thought of being filled to the brim was what brought you over the edge. Leon pulls out and you watch as it drips onto the bed sheets. You’ll clean up later. You plan to make more of a mess in round two. 

[mingi-s-dimples]

Unscripted - San

KINKTOBER DAY 17 , REQ BY. 🤧 anon

~"okay so its me 🤧 but anyways so maybe a reader x streamer bf. It was a drunk stream like where like he would drink maybe invite friends over to drink and stream it this time he did but he included reader which is a rare occasion because he prefers to keep things more private because of his fans Reader was on his lap while like streaming and the camera was on 2 of his other friends yunho and woo were there too chatting with san and reader but because reader got a little drunk and bcs ofc reader doesnt get drunk normally but she was clingy asf a thing leading to another she slowly started grinding and like yes , but like no one to notice not this friends and the people watching it was pretty late at night so the friends went to sleep in another room because driving and drunk doesnt fit well together so reader took the opportunity even tho the stream was on she pretended to leave to fool the people watching and got under the desk and yes."

pairing: bf streamer!san x gf fem!reader

genre: 18+, filthish

summary: you get one hand too touchy with your boyfriend while he's streaming, which ends up being one of your best decisions.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: harsh dom!san, bratty!reader, oral (m receiving), oral while flaccid (yes reader was needy af), ingestion of alcohol, mentions of alcohol, slight exhibitionism (yunho and woo being in another room sleeping and the livestream going on in the bg on mute), degradation + praise (good slut and otjer similar to this), quickie on the desk ^^, helping from under the desk ifykwim, completely consensual, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: Tell me why tf did I just catch a cold 😞😞😞 Anyways this was hot hello... going insane as we speak? Exhibitionism will always be one of my faves (upsi). Enjoy. my love ! ❤️

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The flickering glow from San’s PC screen filled the room as he glanced over his setup one more time, making sure every angle was perfect, every light calibrated. Tonight was special. Usually, his streams consisted of just him, the screen, and thousands of viewers, who tuned in to watch him crack jokes, crush game after game, and occasionally just sit back and chat with everyone in that effortless, laid-back way he had. But tonight was a little different. Tonight, he wasn’t just inviting his fans into his space; he was bringing over his friends, Yunho and Wooyoung, for a spontaneous stream that had been brewing in the group chat for weeks.

You’d been excited the moment you heard the plan—finally, a stream that felt like a mix of San’s world and yours. You could almost hear the buzz of excitement from his fans as San tweeted a teaser about the night. He hadn’t told them yet that you’d be there, though. Usually, San liked to keep your relationship private. He was protective that way; he liked that what you two had felt like something separate from the stream, from the fans, something he could keep just for himself. But tonight, after some gentle coaxing and a lot of puppy eyes, he agreed to let you in on this rare, shared glimpse into his world.

As the clock ticked toward the start time, Yunho and Wooyoung arrived, their energy filling the room as they greeted you with easy laughter and hugs. Yunho brought along his usual playful banter, and Wooyoung had already started teasing San about having to “babysit” him through the stream. You couldn’t help but laugh; the whole setup felt like a group of friends just hanging out—only with the whole world watching.

San threw you a grin as he sat down, the screen lighting up with his chatroom. Thousands of fans flooded in, messages rolling in faster than the eye could track. You settled off to the side, sipping on a drink, watching San as he fell into his element, one hand on the controller, the other waving as he greeted his viewers. He was captivating, totally immersed, and you found yourself smiling at how natural he was at it all.

“Alright, alright! Everyone, say hi to Yunho and Wooyoung!” San said, pulling his friends into view. The chat exploded with excitement at the sight of the two familiar faces. Yunho waved, effortlessly charming, while Wooyoung leaned close to San, playfully invading his space until they were half-laughing, half-wrestling on camera.

You enjoyed watching them banter, the energy high and easygoing, the camaraderie between them infectious. San glanced over at you with a mischievous smile, and, feeling a surge of confidence, you edged closer to the camera’s view. You didn’t have to say anything; just being there was enough to set off a wave of messages in the chat, a blend of shock, excitement, and curiosity.

“Who’s that?” someone typed, followed by dozens of similar comments as people pieced together the implication of you being there.

San reached for his drink, laughing at the chat’s reaction, as if he’d just let everyone in on a private joke. He leaned closer to you, brushing his shoulder against yours, and in that brief touch, there was a warmth that reassured you. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was just the thrill of finally being part of his stream, but you felt yourself relax into the moment.

As the night wore on, laughter filled the room. The three of them were a perfect mix: Yunho’s easygoing wit, Wooyoung’s playful sarcasm, and San’s effortless charisma made the stream a blend of nonstop jokes, a few failed games, and moments of genuine connection with the fans. You joined in here and there, your own laughter mingling with theirs, and with each passing hour, the line between the screen and reality seemed to blur a little more.

You, a few drinks in, became noticeably more affectionate, your usual playful self replaced by something softer, gentler. Your hand found yours under the table at one point, a silent gesture that was both grounding and intimate. He shot you a look, one that seemed to carry a thousand words in it, his gaze lingering longer than usual. The camera still rolled, and the chat was oblivious, but you knew he was letting you in on a rare moment—this was the part of him he usually kept away from the camera, the side of him that was just yours.

After he gave you the slightest, softest, reassuring look, you unconsciously started to slowly grind on his thigh, as you were sitting on his lap.

"B-babe what are you doing?" he whispered in your ear, stuttering from surprise.

"N-nothing..?" you whispered back, smiling innocently at him. He knew exactly what you were doing but.. it was even more thrilling, as thousands of people could catch glimpses of what was happening.

As the night pushed into the early hours, Yunho and Wooyoung started to look like they were ready to crash, their laughter slower, their words slurred from the drinks. It didn’t take much convincing for them to decide to stay the night. After all, nobody wanted to drive home at this hour. So they threw their jackets in the living room, claimed the couches, and left you and San in his dorm alone to wrap up the stream.

As San turned back to the camera, you noticed he seemed even more relaxed, leaning back in his chair, his hand lazily finding its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. His fans kept chatting, mostly commenting on how unusual it was to see him this open and unguarded, and San smirked at their remarks.

And that’s when you felt it—a sudden, irresistible need to be closer to him. You shifted in your seat, inching toward him until your body pressed against his, your head leaning onto his shoulder. San glanced down at you, his smile softening, his hand moving to trace small circles on your back. The chat was still buzzing, but he seemed only half-aware of it now, his attention slowly focusing more on you than the screen.

The camera captured only part of the scene—the laughter, the playfulness, but missed the soft intensity in San’s eyes as he glanced your way, the way his hand gently tugged at your waist, urging you closer. You were barely aware of the camera now, your focus on him, on this shared warmth, the world beyond the screen fading into the background.

He looked your way, whispering something, “what are you trying to do!? I’m live, darling” he softly said, not letting the viewers hear any of his words. You leaned towards his ear and said, “I’m so fucking horny right now.. maybe it’s the drinks but, how I’d love to suck you off in this instant..”. His eyes widened at your words and he wasn’t able to say anything, as you instinctively got off his thigh and got on your knees under the desk, eyes looking sheepishly at him. He looked down in horror as you rode your hands up his thighs, finding your way to his pants. You hovered your hand over the slight bulge of his sweatpants, feeling his cock twitch at your touch. He was slowly getting hard, but you just couldn’t wait anymore. You slid them off to his ankles to which San gasped, looking surprised at the camera, not knowing what to do. He was still live, after all.

As you took his cock in your hand, still soft, only slightly hard, mainly at the base, you started stroking it. Slowly but surely, looking up at him. You spit one, two times in your hand to lube his cock up and pumped his length, getting is hard pump bt pump. You just couldn’t wait anymore and took his cock in your mouth, San's eyes widening and his mouth left agape. He was truly trying hard not to mimic anything, but was slowly losing control.

His leg was lightly bouncing near you, trying to get a hold of himself. He looked down for a moment at you, then at the camera and at the comments. No one realised yet.

“Guys, I-uh” he stopped for a moment, your mouth wrapping on the tip of his cock, sucking it harshly. You pressed your tongue to it, San's hand going for your hair as soon as you did that. He pulled you back for a second, then continued, “my network is not that good, should we take a break for a minute? I'll try to refresh everything and maybe ask Yunho to help me with the router.” his eyes then flew to the chat, everyone agreeing with him. He muted himself and moved the camera up a bit, only a small part of his forehead could be seen. Though, as soon as he slowly laid back into his gaming chair, his forehead disappeared from the view and the stream viewers could only see the curtains in the back and the dozens of plants you and him had together. He looked down at you, a smirk rising on his face.

“You're damn impatient, aren't you, my love?” he said and the hand in your hair tangled in it and pulled you to his cock. His cock was now half erected, but he absolutely didn't care. He started to softly thrust in your mouth, he threw his head back in pleasure. You could feel his length growing in your mouth, which turned you on even more. What could've been better than feeling your man getting hard because of you? and with that thought in mind, you took a deep breath and took his growing length down your throat, slightly choking on it.

“What a good girl… the heads you always give are fucking unreal…” he whined out, mouth-fucking you. “But.. what if the viewers find out, hm? Or is it your own little plan.. to let people know… just how much of a filthy, obedient little slut you really are?” he taunted, thrusting into your mouth deeper, his grip tightening as he kept you firmly in place. His low, rough voice sent shivers down your spine, each word designed to push you closer to that edge. “Or maybe... that’s what you want, isn’t it? To have them see how good you are for me?”

Your cheeks burned, but the thrill of his words ignited something fierce within you. His gaze darkened as he continued, voice dripping with desire, “Tell me, sweetheart. Do you want them to see? To know that this is exactly where you belong… right here, giving me exactly what I want?”

The intensity of his words and his rhythm brought you to a breaking point, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body, until you could barely think of anything else.

He kept his gaze locked on you, enjoying the way your eyes glazed over with pure need. His voice softened, almost taunting, as he leaned closer, his lips grazing your ear. “That’s right… no hiding, no pretending. You want this as much as I do, don’t you?”

You nodded, your mind hazy, completely overtaken by him. Every touch, every word was calculated, designed to make you lose yourself in the moment. His hand found the back of your neck, guiding you as he continued, his rhythm relentless, making you feel as if every fiber of your being belonged to him.

"Say it," he demanded, his tone low and possessive. "Tell me you want them to see just how good you are for me."

As you pulled back, your lips parted, a breathless moan escaping before you whispered, "Yes… I want them to see.”

“Oh, is that so? Are you really… that eager?” he said and moved the camera away, facing the wardrobe. He got up and continued, “Well, it’s a shame, sweetie. I don't like sharing and you just made a serious mistake, turning me on like that when you knew I couldn't do anything. What are you gonna do now, huh?” he teasingly said.

“San, I-” but you didn't have time to answer as he pulled you up and pushed you on the desk, forcefully throwing away anything he had on it.. Some books, stickers, decorations, too. “Let's see how you're gonna handle this, my love” he said and pulled your pants down, squeezing your ass. He spread you out, two of his fingers slipping in your cunt, a grin appearing on his face. “You're so wet already.. you've been expecting this? What a little slut..” he said and pulled the fingers out, hand going for your mouth and covered it, then with his other hand he guided his cock to your entrance, fully thrusting in. “This is what you get for getting me hard while I was live…”

You gripped the table in pleasure and pain, head dizzy from the drinks you had and all the movement. “S-San-!”you moaned in his hand, tears forming in your eyes. It was either the drinks or the fact that you haven't been fucked by him this angry and powerful in so long, but as he hit all your sweet spots you came undone surprisingly fast, all over his cock. Your walls clenched onto him, his veiny, slightly curved cock switched inches deep inside you before he finished into you. He pounded into you through his orgasm. He slowly came down to a stop and pulled out, spreading your ass out and looking at his work, bodily fluids seeping out of your cunt.

He stepped back and pulled you up, turning you around to make you sit on the table. “See? this what happens when you act up. Go to the bathroom, I'm not done with you, yet.” I'll be there in 5, saying by to my viewers.”

“Hm? why, babe? why the bathroom?” you asked, confused but slightly anticipating.

“We're gonna shower together and no, you don't have any way out of this” he said and kissed your forehead, squeezing your ass and urging you to the door.

The night was just about to get started.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

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