#drawing circles for faces has ruined me

[slvthrs]

thinkin' of coriolanus and his insane breeding n ownership kink...

Coriolanus Snow loves ownership.

It's disgusting but he sees you as his pretty little thing that he needs to protect and keep safe. Your body and soul belongs to him and your all his to take care of and to ravish.

Late at night in the comfort of your plush duvet, in your families penthouse suite with adornments worth more than the snow's apartments, Coryo sneaks into your bed. Pressing your body against him, drawing out moans and gasps from your lips. You mewl under his touch and writing in pain and pleasure as his hands dip between your folds to stretch you out.

The last thing Coriolanus wants is his pet to get hurt.

His thumb fervently circles your clit, opening your thighs even further as the boy slips in another finger. He watches your face contort into emotions of pain and pleasure drawing another orgasm out of your, "Your so precious, c'mon give me one more."

And one turns to 2 more and turns to 5 until Coryo finally decides you deserve to get fucked.

It's a privilege, to have his dick inside you, he expects you to be begging and desperate. He berates you, watching you beg like a common whore but in the end you get what you want. In the dead of night with your parents in another room- none the wiser- he takes you, ruining you, for any other man. In his eyes you belong to him and no one can take you from him.

Your moans echo in the walls and skin slap together as Coryo has you bent, with your knees hooked over his shoulders and his dick pounding into you unforgivingly.

The angle reaches all the right spots, all the places your fingers counldn't reach, essentially making it so you can't even cum without him helping you- which was of course what he wanted.

You we be so desperate that you would end up calling Coryo. at the dead of night, crying over the phone at how much you needed him to take care of you, how your "hands didn't feel as good as his" or how you "needed him.' And that's all he needed to here before rushing to your place.

Every single time without fail Coryo would hope you would get pregnant.

He knows it's stupid- your far to young for kids and in reality Coryo would be a horrible dad. But the idea of you, his precious thing, so full and round with his kid.

How vulnerable you would be and how he would protect you, keep you stuck at home, making you play the eager housewife whilst he could come home from some high paying job- able to take care of you three.

Sometimes his mind disgusted him.

One time he thought of some lowlife from the higher districts, 10, 11, 12 even, finding you, perhaps he was a tribute, no matter how- but he thought how the man would try to hurt you and how he could fight him off. How he would hit the man, watch the fear in his eyes as he took his life, keeping you safe.

He swears he never came harder that night. Filling you up and your screamed into a pillow.

Coriolanus Snow loves ownership. And he specifically loves owning you.

ik coryo seems like kinda an ass in this but i wanted to make smth that as kinda more true to how evil he rlly was- dw tho imma make smth thats a lil more nice n delusional 😭

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow fluff #bella fawns over coryo

[suguann]

tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]

Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.

But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.

The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.

It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.

He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”

“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.

“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”

His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.

He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.

Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—

“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.

You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”

“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”

When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.

There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.

After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”

Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”

You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”

“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”

“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.

Masterlist

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #.things i write

[daycourtofficial]

A Valentine’s Surprise

Summary: a member of the inner circle asks you to be their valentine, despite you being mated to someone else

Author’s note: this is pretty short, but I thought it’d be really cute and I love Nyx

“Excuse me, everyone.”

Everyone at the table stops their chatter as Nyx stands on his chair, his little voice unwaivering as he draws the attention of his family consisting of his parents, Cassian, Azriel, Nesta, Mor, and you.

“I have an announcement.”

You all look on in confusion and curiosity, wondering what the young prince would deem so important. He does this about once a week now - interrupting dinner to declare something to everyone. Last week it was to inform everyone that Cassian had farted next to his face, causing Cassian to argue, “it’s not my fault your face is at bum level.”

The night derailed from there, the warlord getting quite worked up over the accusations of a five year old until the two were wrestling on the floor.

Nyx clears his throat, looking to his mother for approval to continue. Feyre gives him a nod of encouragement, mouthing the words “go on” to him. He takes in a deep breath and says, “I’m in love.”

Feyre smiles at him, clearly aware of where his little speech is going. Rhys perks up, amusement in his eyes at Nyx’s confession. The table falls even more silent in curiosity. The princeling looks to you before continuing, “I love you, (y/n). Will you be my valentine?”

You spit out your wine, and Azriel’s hand that was covertly wrapped around your thigh tightens slightly. You grab your napkin, dabbing at the wine you spilled on your dress. You can’t help the smile on your face at how nervous Nyx looks, and you can’t hold back the grin as he winnows a rose into his hand, holding it out to you.

“Nyx, I’m honored that you would ask me.”

You try to figure out how to let the young prince down without telling everyone of your secret mateship with Azriel. The two of you were keeping your mating bond a secret because you didn’t want to deal with the ordeal it would cause and wanted the peace to navigate it. And then you two just kept delaying mentioning it.

Unfortunately for Nyx, the two of you had plans that evening to celebrate the holiday to hide out in a cabin and you wouldn’t want the little heir to ruin them.

“Why do you want me to be your valentine?”

Nyx smiles at you, “because I get all warm and fuzzy inside when I see you.”

Your face crumpled at his sweet words, his love for you showing in his toothy grin, a few teeth missing from his smile. The adorable spectacle makes you miss Cassian grumbling, “why doesn’t anyone ask me to be their valentine?”

“How can I say not to that adorable face?”

Azriel’s grip tightens, and you place your hand on top of his, gently rubbing it. Reminding him that his instincts can calm down over a five year old.

“What does being your valentine entail, sweet Nyx?”

The little boy’s wings flutter at your attention, “we’ll have ice cream!”

“I like ice cream. Is that all?”

He preens under your gaze, looking exactly the way his father does whenever Feyre looks at him affectionately. He leans in conspiratorially, covering his mouth with his hand that does nothing to keep his words from being heard by everyone, before whispering, “you can hold my hand through Velaris.”

“Nyx I wonder if our darling (y/n) has other valentine’s plans.”

Nyx looks to you, heartbreak on his tiny face that the woman he loved would dare see another male. Azriel shoots daggers over your head at his brother, realizing the two of you hadn’t been as secretive as you thought at Rhys’s feline grin. Rhys mocks a toast of his glass towards you two, causing Az’s scowl to deepen.

“Well Nyx, nobody’s asked to take me out for ice cream on Valentine’s day, so I will be more than glad to go with you to get ice cream.”

The little boy beamed the rest of the evening, and as he totted off to bed he was telling his father all about what he was going to wear when you two went out. He even gave you a color scheme so your outfits could coordinate.

You and Azriel retired separately, so as not to raise suspicions. You were brushing your hair at your vanity when his shadows allowed him to emerge in your room, where he immediately began walking towards you.

Meeting your gaze in the mirror, his eyes are full of amusement, thinking about how he has to share the woman he loves, his mate, with a child he could drop kick into the clouds.

“You are stunning, my dear, surely you must have plans for Valentine’s Day?”

He starts kissing your cheek, making his way down your neck, causing you to giggle while you reply, “I have plans with another male for the afternoon on Valentine’s day, but I suppose I could pencil you in while he’s taking his nap.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n

[stinkyme]

Hello! I have been gone for a little as some may have noticed, which I will explain in a different post :)

However, I have not been on tumblr at all so if somebody already did this, I do apologize for being repetitive but oh well :3

I can also do version with women if anyone is interested since they have me in a very heavy chokehold (I will most likely do it regardless), so without further rambling, I hope you like it and enjoy :3

please read bsd fans: I don't want to leave y'all dry because I know you followed for bsd, so I added bsd characters who would also be similar to those characters :D

Characters: Sampo, Gepard, Blade, Dan Heng, Welt, Jing Yuan, Luocha

Those are little headcanons :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, oral, mentions of biting/marking, mentions of praise, mentions of face sitting, mentions of edging and overstimulation, mentions of fingering, mentions of 69, mentions of body worship, and I think that's it, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

Pussy Eating || HSR (+BSD) Men x Reader

Sampo (Tecchou, Ranpo, Nikolai, Atsushi)

Greedy. Greedy and messy. He loves giving you oral and eating you out for hours in the end even if he doesn't get to finish. He does it for your and his pleasure. That man is huge therefore I imagine him putting you on his shoulders and pressing you against the wall while your hands messily grip on his hair. He will literally drown his face into your pussy, his long tongue reaching every single spot of you and ravishing you greedily. He is so easy to get pussy drunk that sometimes he will overstimulate you by accident. Or that's what he wants you to think. Your little whimpers and moans as his tongue relentlessly circles on your clit while your thighs tighten around his face as he keeps his hands under your ass and squeezes it harshly just may or may not make him insanely hard. The way your body responds to his greediness and the way your throat gets sore and raspy from all the sweet sounds you let out make him insanely proud and needy to the point where he would and will cum in his pants. He also loves when you sit on his face as his tongue and lips keep on stimulating your sensitive spots all over your clit. If you dare and try to get up before he had enough of it, oh boy. He will squeeze your hips and push them on his face, basically locking you in place as he keeps desperately stimulating you with his tongue. Anytime he takes a moment to take a breath, the most pathetic, high pitched and broken whimper or moan will come out of his parted lips. He will make you cum like that countless times until he feels satisfied and until you basically can't think properly anymore. Next day when your clit gets overly sensitive to the lightest touch he will probably apologize for going a bit overboard. Is he actually sorry? No, not at all actually but he will treat you in a more gentle and tender way until your clit is ready to be ruined by him again.

Gepard (Poe, Chuuya, Mark, Atsushi, Sigma)

Gepard however, is more tender and gentle. He adores you as well but in a way where he will worship you and take things slow. He will kiss your whole body, slowly going down on you and adjusting himself between your thighs only when he makes sure every other part of you has been appreciated with praise, kisses, licks, gentle bites - you name it. He will leave soft, feather-like kisses on your thighs, with each kiss moving closer and closer to your needy clit. He will look at your pussy, admiring how wet and pretty it is for him. He will start with giving a few kitten licks on your clit and observing how your body reacts. He would wrap his arms and hands around your thighs, dimly spreading them just to get better access to your clit before he starts licking it and sucking it in a more consistent manner. He will start by drawing small circles with the tip of his tongue however as soon as you start letting out whimpers or moans and as your thighs start tensing and relaxing under his hands he will realize he is not as patient with making you cum. He will start sucking on your clit, eyes fixated on you and he will not stop until you cum all over him. Once you cum, he will make sure to clean you up with his tongue and praise how good you taste for him. He would leave a mellow kiss on your clit as a form of telling you how good you are for him. He will continue giving kisses and soft licks on your thighs until you are less sensitive and then start eating you out again. He will be more patient this time, you have the whole night after all, and he will make sure you cum as many times as possible in as many ways as possible. 

Blade (Fyodor, Dazai, Mori, Jouno)

Tease. He loves to take his time with you but in a different way than Gepard. He will kiss every part of your body and move down on your pussy, leaving slow and gentle licks and kisses on your outer lips with the tip of his tongue. Purposefully leaving out the spot where you want him the most. He will enjoy the sight of your precum slowly leaking out of your pussy as you let out weak "please" for him to start eating you out. He would chuckle at how desperate you are for him and click his tongue a couple of times, lightheartedly scolding your impatience. He will start by slowly inserting two of his fingers inside of your wet cunt, gently and teasingly stimulating your g-spot by moving his fingers in a way that he knows drives you crazy. He would get his lips close to your clit and seeing your eyes get excited and needy only for you to let out a dissatisfied moan as he blows a small amount of warm air through his parted lips, is indeed very satisfying for him. He would feel your cunt tighten around his fingers, leaking more precum with each skillful thrust of his as soft moans escape your throat and enjoy every second of it. Then, when you sort of give into his teasing and when you least expect it, he will give one gentle lick to your clit. Your cunt would tighten around him and he would immediately back off, another teasing chuckle escaping his lungs as he watches and feels your body get immensely excited from only one, in his opinion, even pathetic lick. However, once he teased you long enough, giving you one pathetic and quick lick after another, he will start doing it properly. He will start by putting the flat of his tongue on top, covering your whole clit and start moving it in a pace and manner you enjoy the most. He knows after all the fingering and teasing it will take you a very short amount of time to cum and he will be right, your orgasm slowly approaching fairly quickly. However, he will stop just as you are about to cum. Swiftly moving his tongue away from your clit as his fingers stop moving inside your cunt. He enjoys the feeling of your body shaking regardless as your gaze grows pathetic and needy for an orgasm. He will grant you the desire you have, just when he thinks you deserved it. 

Dan Heng (Kunikida, Akutagawa)

He loves 69. Not because he is selfish and can't focus on you only, but because of the feeling of you not being able to suck his dick properly due to everything he does to you. He loves how you have to pull away due to your whimpers and moans as he keeps relentlessly circling his tongue on your clit. Or how suddenly you will choke on his cock because he hit the right spot. Over and over again. Also, he enjoys how exposed your pussy is for him like that and how his tongue can reach every single spot he wishes to pay attention to. He loves to slow down his pace and lets you suck him for a while and when your throat is close to the tip of his cock, only to suddenly spank your ass and start vigorously sucking on your clit, resulting in you choking on his cock as muffled moans and whimpers escape your throat. If you try to just give him a handjob in order to avoid what he wants and desires, he will stop his movement completely. After all, it's unfair, right? If he is going to eat you out, he deserves the same treatment. If you disagree in some way, he will just calmly ask if you wish to cum or not and if you do, then listen to him and be good. If not, that's perfectly fine with him too, he can make that come true easily but you don't get to complain later and beg him to cum. So, you will choose wisely and decide you want to cum, earning a soft praise of his. He would continue circling his tongue on your clit, start sucking it as he can tell you are getting closer to your orgasm. He can feel your hands gripping his thighs as your mouth can't do the work anymore besides whimpering and moaning as your orgasm approaches. Once you cum, he will clean it all up, gently kissing your clit and inner lips afterwards, praising how good you were.  If you decide to be a brat about it, he doesn't have an issue with that either. He knows exactly how to deal with you by simply readjusting your positions, making you lay under him as he ties you up. Oh, you thought he will fuck you and you will be able to persuade him by your begging? Or that he will cum and think it's only fair that he lets you cum too, especially after seeing how beautifully pathetic you look? No, he is a very, very patient man. He will finger you for hours if he has to, making it almost impossible for you to take it anymore. Or he may make you watch him stroke his cock, making sure he lets out pleasant whimpers and moans, basically rubbing it in your face what you could have if you were not a brat. He may even simulate things he could do to your clit on your nipples or even your thigh, very close to your needy bud. After your desperate apologies and begging, he may consider letting you cum. Only if you beg him good enough, he expects from you to show him how much you want him in a position you are currently in, so give it your best and he will eat you out just like you deserve.

Welt (Fukuzawa, Oda, Ango)

He is a gentleman and a soft dom. He will give you prince/princess treatment all the time and is quite generous in bed too. He enjoys eating you out, he loves making you cum over and over again until the point of complete bliss. Welt will also ask you to vocalize how much you enjoy him, how much you enjoy his tongue skillfully running over your inner lips and clit. He would initiate his or your desires by spreading your pretty legs with his cane, observing how wet you get for him. I imagine he is also easy to be teased about his age, however he will only play into it without taking genuine offense and show you that nothing about him is uncapable or old. Once you are in for it, he will make sure you enjoy it as long as possible. He is very gentle with his tongue, sensations that he provides for you are almost feather like, barely felt on the skin, but the impact they leave are more than pleasurable. He would focus on your outer lips then slowly move his attention towards your inner lips, giving you a quick surprise lick on the clit from time to time. Then, he would focus his tongue on your clit only, gradually increasing his speed and pressure. He enjoys your voice, the way your body reacts to him and once he makes you cum, he will repeat the process over and over again. Welt loves feeling your body getting more sensitive and responsive as he gets more intense with pleasuring you. He loves gently sucking on your clit as his fingers slide inside your needy cunt; the way your thighs eventually lose strength to wrap around his head makes him smirk into your skin. He will definitely tease you lightheartedly afterwards but rest assured that this man will provide you the most loving aftercare, spoiling you as much as possible.

Jing Yuan (Ango, Kunikida, Tachihara, Fukuzawa)

General loves the thrill of possibly getting caught. He is also the type of the man who, as secure and confident as he is, adores you being for him only. Those two facts combined will result in him enjoying pleasing you in his office, pulling you aside in isolated areas during certain duties just to taste you, even leaving his personal responsibilities early just to find you and be with you. He loves teasing you, reminding you to be quiet or things could get out of hand, when you would scold him about the risks - all he would ask is if you want it and if your answer is affirmative, that's all he needs. Due to this, he would often ask you to wear clothes that are easily taken off or easily accessible for him. Which also means, he enjoys buying clothes for you and daydreaming what outfit you could wear at certain places where he would eat you out. He loves gently biting your thighs, licking and tasting the precum that is leaking out of your cunt, kissing your skin everywhere that he can reach, he loves it all. When it comes to him eating you out, he loves being in control - gently spreading your thighs with his hands, keeping you in place as his tongue hits all the sensitive spots on your clit without a break. Similar to Sampo, he would also enjoy putting you on his shoulders and against the wall, gently brushing the tip of his tongue on your inner lips, then eventually relentlessly circling it on your clit. As mentioned, he loves leaving marks behind, your skin would be painted in countless hickeys, bite marks, his fingernails printed into your thighs, hips, waist - you name it. He bounces between being calm, a very giving lover and being quite greedy. The sound of your muffled whimpers, moans and the way your legs would squeeze him or simply shake under his touch will probably lead to either you pleasing him afterwards or him messily getting his cock out, just to feel you. Once you finish, make sure he will whisper in your ear how well you did for him, how he will reward you again later, how you need to remember that he is the only person who gets to please you like this.

Luocha (Fyodor, Jouno, Chuuya, Sigma)

My favorite man. Luocha is such a teasing, soft, but also quite intense lover. He enjoys pleasing you, enjoys your pussy and will constantly remind you how wonderful you are and how intensely grateful he is to have you. He will definitely do full body worship before going down on you. Leaving soft kisses on your neck, collarbones, chest area, tummy, hips, waist, hands, wrists, thighs, calves, ankles, crotch, outer lips. He will do it slowly, almost agonizingly slow, patiently waiting to hear your sweet voice asking him to give attention to your needy cunt. He loves when you ask him so nicely, but as the more time passes and as you get more desperate and demanding, it fills him with pure pleasure and bliss. Once he finally thinks you pleaded enough, he will softly tell you that you can relax now, he will give you what you want. He would wrap one of his arms around one of your thighs as fingers of his other hand would gently brush over your cunt. As soon as he would feel how wet you are, with just the bare skin of his fingers, it would make him feel like a switch has been flipped inside of his mind, almost challenging himself to make you as wet as you possibly could get. He would trace his way from the bottom of your pussy, tip of his tongue gently starting at the very edge of your inner lips, slowly moving it up in sensual zig-zag motion, purposefully avoiding your clit, going around it and moving back down. He would let out mellow, almost inaudible whimper when he would taste your precum, his tongue spreading it all over your needy cunt. After a bit, when he would notice that your pretty cunt is leaking more precum mixed with your soft whimpers; he would gently and slowly insert two of his fingers inside. Loucha would go as slow as possible, dragging the moment when he will finally give attention to your puffy clit. His fingers would dimly curl inside of you, pressing and stimulating your g-spot, as his free hand would spread your leg away from the other. Listening to your sweet voice, as his fingers are getting coated in your precum and realizing how wet you are as your cunt tightens around him, is truly a moment that Luocha wants to last forever. Then, after he finally finds appropriate, he will place his warm tongue on your swollen clit, moving it in circles and listening to you finally and completely break under him. As you are getting louder and your hands grab on his blond hair, pushing him more into your pussy, your orgasm painfully close, Luocha will not stop. He finds edging rarely enjoyable, what he enjoys is making you cum but also, making you needier each time that you do. It's a sweet circle of endless pleasure that he wants to last as long as possible, for both of you. When you finally cum, he will make sure to clean it all up, slowly extracting his fingers out of your pussy and giving your clit a soft kiss. A still very needy look on your face would result in a sly smirk from him, awaiting you to ask for more, knowing you are in for the long night or day.

#hsr x reader #hsr smut #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #welt x reader #gepard x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade smut #dan heng smut #welt smut #jing yuan smut #gepard smut #sampo smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #luocha smut #luocha x reader

[luveline]

𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve harrington is your boyfriend now. your boyfriend. and having a boyfriend means doing lots of new things, like dinner dates and movies, cuddling on the couch and kissing — lots of kissing. but there’s one thing you guys haven’t done yet, and steve’s just asked you to spend the night. [17.3k words]

warnings SMUT 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff heavy, new established relationship, first time, an overload of intimacy and affection, p in v sex, pet names, steve being the most loving dork on the entire planet and r being equally infatuated, mentioned that r has stretch marks, proofread not perfect

this is a companion to have you seen her? you don’t have to read it to understand, but if you want to it’s here <3

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Inside a sea of flowers lies a girl. Her skin glows with colour, the reflection of pigments. Sunspots of darkest red buffeted by buttery orange, indigo stretching into magenta, whites; endless whites ranging from creamy ivory to the violet shine of snow in the nighttime.

It's as if the flowers themselves bloom over your skin. Steve blinks and everything settles, your skin returns to skin, the reflections fade from focus. You stretch your leg out absentmindedly and lean forward to follow the book resting against the top of your thigh, entirely distracted.

The room smells as bright and fresh as the florist's itself. The flowers he'd given you, more than he could ever name, permeate everything. Most remain in good condition two weeks later, where some wilt despite your dedicated care.

Your fingertips are pin-pricked by the thorns of a rose's stem, injuries sustained in the hours you've spent preening each bouquet. You bring one such fingertip to your lips and suck lightly for a moment like it'll draw the small pain from your skin.

He leans against the doorway and takes in your appearance indulgently. Plaid pyjama bottoms hug your thighs. Your socked feet wiggle along to the sounds of your Walkman, music loud enough that you've missed his entrance.

He doesn't want to scare you into flinching and ruin the content little bubble you're in but he's certainly not about to turn around and leave after waiting all day to see you, no matter how selfish it might be to disturb you. I'm only human, he thinks.

"Hey, beautiful," he says. You don't hear him.

Steve bends at the waist to unlace his shoes before stepping onto the plush carpeting of your room. He weaves between vases and skinny buckets, repurposed cookware and every mug you own, worried that one wrong move will domino your intricate arrangements and spill flowers everywhere.

You catch sight of him before he's made it to your side. You flinch as he suspected you would, only a small jump but a jump nonetheless.

Steve's face creases in sympathy as you pull off your headphones, orange foam padding around your neck. "I'm sorry," he says, expecting you to be at least a little peeved at his sneaking. "I knocked, I swear."

You abandon your book carelessly and are only slightly kinder to your Walkman as you tug the headphones from your neck.

"Steve," you say, smiling.

"That's me. Hey."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, white sheets rumpled in your wake as you scramble to your feet. Steve doesn't know who does what first but he opens his arms and you've opened yours and you fit into the circle of his embrace like you were made to.

"Sorry to scare you," he says.

You're not as confident as he is. Where Steve throws his arms over your shoulders, quick to press his mouth to the skin of your forehead, your hands draw tentative lines up his back.

To be touched so carefully is numbing in the best way. Steve wonders how his affection for you can continue to grow, more when you laugh half-breathless into his chest and look up, pinning him with your bright gaze.

"That's okay," you say, your happiness to see him palpable. It makes his chest hurt.

Steve puts some space between you to hold you at arm's length, one hand clasping your shoulder and the other following the curve of your neck.

He feels almost too happy to speak, like the words won't come out right. You seem to feel similarly, smiling wide, your lips pressed together tightly.

"I missed you," he says finally. Your reaction emboldens him; your eyes crease with pleasure and he has to duck down for a kiss.

Just one, pressed chastely to the skin left of your cupid's bow. You lift your chin in reaction, your hands searching up towards his shoulder blades.

"I missed you too," you say.

He decides to push his luck and kiss you properly. Your lips are warm under his and your cheek is aflame under his hand as he cradles your face.

"Haven't been lying out in the sun again, have you?" he asks as he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open.

"Huh? No, I've been reading inside all day."

"Good. You'll get sick, you sunbathe so much," he chides with no real heat.

He squeezes your face mildly and you steal another quick kiss. Steve would let you steal as many as you want to no matter the duration, but you stick to just one.

"Are you hungry?" you ask. You don't wait for an answer, skirting around him.

His hands miss your skin as soon as you're out of reach. He follows you to the kitchen like a lost dog hungry for scraps – scraps of your voice in the shadow of your exhale, any small flash of your skin, the back of your wrist as you pull open the refrigerator door. Steve situates himself by the sink so he can see your face. Your arms quickly grow heavy with fresh vegetables and a precarious china dish, a familiar carafe slipping in your fingers.

"Here," he mutters, reaching for the glass carafe with both hands.

"Thank you," you say, giggling. "Thought I was gonna drop it."

You set everything down on the clean counter. The sun kisses your skin where it shines golden-orange through the window. A bouquet of tulips sits in the sill, thin petals translucent and bright like the bulbs are made up of sweet maraschino cherries.

"I would've caught it."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Super fast reflexes. LaRusso style," he says, putting down your carafe. Fruit slices and rose petals bob on the water's surface.

"The Karate Kid?" you ask, pushing up your sleeves.

He smiles as you walk towards him. "Exactly. You like that movie?"

You turn on the faucet and wash your hands without looking, your eyes drawn to his face. "I loved that movie. I've only seen it twice, though. Once at the movies, once with Dustin."

"You watched it with Dustin?" he asks.

Your eyes flit between the sink and his face as you turn off the faucet and shake your wet hands over the basin. "Yeah, and his mom. She's really nice, you know?"

"She's a real treasure. It's her kid I'm not too sure about."

You laugh and he loves it, less when you flick your still-wet hands at him and pattern him in tap water.

"Stop, idiot," he protests, leaning away from you.

"It's raining, babe. I don't control the weather."

"Sure."

You grin over your shoulder and flounce to the counter where your wooden chopping board resides. He's desperate to be close to you but doesn't want to look it.

It's too early to show her how much of a total loser I am, he thinks, turning to the sink and washing his hands so he can help you make dinner and steal some closeness.

"Did you have a crush on him?" he asks.

"Dustin?" you ask, horrified.

Steve laughs and rubs the slippery bar of soap between his palms. "No, weirdo, Daniel LaRusso. The Karate Kid."

"Nah, Mister Miyagi was more my type."

Steve drops the bar of soap into the basin and struggles to pick it back up, only pausing in his panic when he hears your self-satisfied giggling. It's infectious.

"That's so sick. Dude was ninety years old," he says, rinsing the suds off.

"I'm kidding!"

You're still laughing to yourself when he joins you. You've already chopped the inedible tops off of three long carrots and peeled them. You start to cut them into uniform batons, your quick peeling and knife work both impressive and daunting to Steve, who's only just weaned himself off of a steady high school diet of TV dinners and chips.

He shakes his hands at you. Flecks of water hit you and shine on your skin like the fine mist of morning dew, a dampened flower. You smell like one, though Steve supposes that's inevitable when you're sleeping surrounded by a crush of petals every night.

"Can I help?" he asks.

You blow a raspberry. "I should kick you out."

He flicks more water at you and you hide your face in your shoulder, the soft skin of your cheek pulled cruelly.

"Don't hide."

"Stop flicking me."

"It's raining, babe. I don't control the weather," he says dryly.

Finely spritzed, you open your eyes just enough to see him through your lashes, smiling like you wish you weren't. Steve holds his hands up in surrender, mostly because they're dry enough now that any flickage is negligent, and because you're much too pretty to be hiding away. The sun has begun to set, its descent marked by a gaussian blur spreading across the countertops and cabinets, your arms blanketed in a glow. Steve finds your face practically dietific to begin with – the light makes you something else entirely.

He wants to say something too heartfelt, say, Fuck, you're so pretty.

He's not that brave.

"You want a drink?" he asks.

"Yes please. You know where the cups are?"

He grabs two glass cups from the cabinet othweise pillaged for makeshift vases to your left and you cut the celery, a small lull in conversation filled only by the crisp crunch of your preparations and the slosh of Steve's pouring. The flower petals have bled their pigments into the carafe's cold water and turned it a transparent vermillion, something so quietly inordinate that he can't not mention it.

"The water's purple, babe," he says.

"Huh?" you ask. You hold the cutting board aloft, your knife guiding chopped vegetables into a shiny metal colander.

"The water," he says, punctuating his claim with a sharp click as he puts your glass down in front of you.

You discard your knife distractedly. "Oh. It must've been the rose petals."

"Can we still drink it?"

"Sure we can. Rosewater is really good for you. Though I'm not sure if this counts as rosewater, actually, I think you have to steep the petals in hot water first."

You shrug your shoulders and bring your glass to your mouth.

Steve frowns. "Are you sure?" he asks worriedly. He doesn't want you to get sick, especially from flowers he brought you.

You get a crease between your eyebrows, lips pursed quizzically. "I'm sure. You worry too much, Stevie," you say.

It's like being struck. You've never called him that before.

The nickname had sounded easy as breathing for you to say and had felt easier, felt right, like you'd used it a hundred times before.

He laughs, says, "Fine, but if you turn purple don't say I didn't warn you," and proceeds to work himself into a poorly contained frenzy.

He takes the colander to the sink and washes the carrot and celery sticks more thoroughly than he needs to whilst he composes himself. He listens with ears made keen by his racing heart as you turn on the stove. The fan hums. There's a loud crackling as you peel back the aluminum foil covering a medium sized casserole dish.

"I forgot to ask you, you like buffalo wings, right?"

He turns off the faucet and almost misses your question, too busy thinking So she called you Stevie, are you twelve? Get a hold of yourself, you-

"What?"

"I can make something else, if you don't."

Steve shakes the colander to drain any excess water as he reassures you. "No, that's okay. That's perfect. I love wings, and I'll love them double if you're the one making them." After all, you make a mean BLT.

The oven door swings open and he turns in time to watch you bend at the waist and insert the dish of chicken wings, your eyes narrowed. Adorable.

You straighten up and dust your hands off, bumping the door closed with your hip. "Awesome. Here, let me-" You take the colander from his hand like you're going to whiz away and then evidently change your mind, stuttering to a jolting stop. "Thank you," you tell him earnestly.

"You're welcome. You did all the hard work," he says, caught off guard.

"Super hard work, cutting up some carrot sticks," you say, mock-agreeably.

Steve reaches out to pinch your side. "Just because you made it look easy doesn't mean it is. It would've taken me double the time to make something, and it would've been, like, a grease fest," he says. "You already made the chicken, too, so that's more hard work you're not thinking about."

"The chicken marinades itself," you admonish lightly. You step on toes to kiss the high point of his cheek. "But thank you."

You turn to tip your veggie sticks into a bowl with a quarter inch of water at the bottom. Steve prods your kiss mark unthinkingly, the skin tingling from a combination of your gifted kiss and the affectionate tone you'd used.

"I got all kinds of dip. Hummus, artichoke and spinach, tahini, ranch. Do you like those?" you ask hopefully.

If he didn't he'd try and find a way. "Who doesn't like ranch?"

"I'll make fries too, okay?"

He really, really likes you.

-

Steve still looks kind of silly eating at your small kitchen table. You're in the seat that's crammed against the refrigerator and he's in the opposite. You're so close that your calves keep touching, often enough that you both forgo apologies in favour of sending the other a small smile. Less of an 'I'm sorry,' and more of a 'We touched again,' a confirmation that he's real and you're real and you're eating a home cooked meal that you made together.

He's so handsome, so ridiculously lovely, and the food is good but not good enough to keep your attention. Not when Steve takes a sip of water and his arm moves, the muscle beneath his skin shifts, pulls taut, and his shirt tightens around his bicep and you're just as hopeless as you were the very first time you'd invited him in.

He's saying something and it must be pretty funny because he's laughing, a chesty, giggling thing that sounds boyishly happy, like he just can't help it. You're not sure what he's laughing at but it's enough to set you off, infectious as it is.

"So Robin's in the back pretending to search for this movie that doesn't exist, and I'm thinking, shit, maybe I should call the police. Because he's got both hands in his pockets and, whaddya know, one pocket is like bulging out."

"Steve?" you ask, trying to sound forceful, befuddled that he's laughing at all. "Someone came into the store with a gun?"

His laugh peters off. "No," he says reassuringly. "Klondike bar."

He chews through a big mouthful of celery and you dissolve into giggles.

Cleaning up with Steve ends up being just as fun as cooking. He stands at your side with a hand towel wiping off dishes as you wash them, hip to hip.

"I can wash them," he says.

"That's okay."

You pass him a wet plate. He wipes it dry and sets it to the side. It could only be five minutes of this before you're done. Weirdly, you wish it had taken a little longer.

It's nice to spend time with him.

"I was thinking you could come over to my place tomorrow, if you wanted to."

Your heart flutters and you're hit with the realisation that you might get to do dishes with him tomorrow, and again, that today isn't a one off. That Steve likes you enough to kiss you and buy you flowers and invite you over.

"I've never been to your house," you say.

"I know. It's supposed to be really hot out tomorrow until seven. I thought you could sunbathe for an hour and I could keep an eye on you, you know. We can get takeout, listen to music," he continues, his voice soft, a melodic cadence to his suggestions.

Why is he trying to sell you on it? You hand him the last plate and twist, holding your dripping hands in the basin.

"I'd love to," you say, smiling. "Though I resent the idea that I need to be supervised."

"I just don't want all those brains to turn to mush." He puts the plate down on top of the others and reaches for your hands without saying anything, eyes on your face as he dries off your fingers gently. "Though you were super adorable when you had heat stroke. All clingy and giggly," he teases.

"Heat exhaustion," you correct. You feel like there's water in your ears.

"Mh-hm."

When your hands are to his satisfaction he swings the towel over his shoulder and takes them into his own, your fingers hooked gently over his. He rubs the fingernail of your index finger and then moves up, smoothing a path over your knuckles. He arrives at your pinky finger and wraps his index finger around it, massaging the length of it with the pad of his thumb.

"Are they still hurting?" he asks, hushed.

"A little bit. Not really, though. It's like after a splinter."

He holds your hand open, palm bared, his thumb pressed to the bottom of your last three fingers as he bends to look at your fingertips. Every touch, every detail, every movement he makes feels urgent to you, your heart racing fast as a mouse's.

"Poor girl," he mumbles to himself. He looks up and sees what must look similar to panic on your face. "Are you sure they're not hurting you? They look sore."

You're gonna say Yes, I'm sure, but he straightens up and brings your hand to his lips before you can muster the strength. He kisses your smattering of tiny injuries and grins when he's done, your entire body awash with a dizzying pleasure.

His hair is falling in his face. You take your kiss-warmed hand from his grip to tuck the longer strands behind his ear. Your heartbeat plays loud. You worry he can hear it.

You stall with your index finger shaking over his skin. Steve covers your hand with his, the look in his eyes unreadable, and you know he's going to kiss you.

You shut your eyes. His breath warms your lips as he closes in, his nose sliding against yours slowly. Your anticipation is a hand closing around your throat, at first a welcome touch and then dizzying breathlessness, an aching for the brush of his lips. He squeezes your hand where it cradles his cheek.

"Breathe," he whispers in bemusement. "Breathe, baby."

You suck in a breath and lift your chin as Steve knocks your nose with his and crosses the distance, his lips parted just slightly. Your head moves back under his kiss, your eyes screwed too tight. Steve takes your hand from his face and guides it over the slope of his shoulder until you're cupping his neck, his fingertips trailing down the length of your arm and moving under, palm to your shoulder blade. He pulls you in, makes the softest little sound against your lips that tickles madly and has a warmth like the setting sun filling your chest.

He kisses slow and sweet, his lips a softness against yours. You can feel as he starts to smile, as he takes your face into his hand, almost pulling at your skin in efforts to be impossibly nearer.

He laughs first, a huff that fans over your twin smile. You can't help but join in as you search up, ardent and excited, laughing into his open mouth until every kiss is a struggle.

"Y/N," he says. It doesn't even sound like your name. He could've said babe or baby or sweetheart and it would've burned the same.

"Do you have to go home?" you ask knowingly, reluctantly opening your eyes.

He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand.

It's getting late, a warm Thursday evening becoming night. The street lamps outside burn yellow-white in the darkening sky and the flowers on the sill have lost their shine. Steve is the brightest thing in the room.

He checks his watch and frowns. "I probably should."

"But I'll see you tomorrow?" you check.

"Did you wanna stay the night? I'm not working Saturday."

You have the first thought that most girls your age might have at a new love asking that question: sex. For a moment, a split second of a moment, Did you wanna stay the night? becomes Do you wanna have sex with me?

You give him a guilty smile and he mistakes it for something else. He says, "You don't have to, I can drive you home. And uh, you know, I would…" You bring your hand back to his face. "We wouldn't do anything you don't wanna do."

"I know," you say quickly. "Yeah, I wanna stay the night." Which is scary to admit. Scary to want.

Whether anything happens or it doesn't, you want to go.

You walk Steve out and he kisses you goodnight chastely. You watch him all the way to his car and wave as he drives away, standing in the doorway until his tail lights are a mere suggestion of white in the distance, small and bright as a pearly star.

-

Robin shrieks as her chair reclines back as far as it can. "Shit, why does it go back this far?"

Steve is more than tired from a full day of work and while he loves Robin to the point of dying for her, he can't handle stupid questions. His short fuse is further shortened by missing you, and he groans.

"You fucking reclined it all the way?"

Steve watches in the rear view as she raises her eyebrows and hugs herself with both arms. "It went down too easy, is all I'm saying."

"That's all?" he asks.

He knows exactly what she's implying and he refuses to feed into it, even when she hums to herself happily. Her happiness lasts for only a few seconds before she's springing up and giving herself whiplash.

"You haven't actually fucked in this seat, right?"

"Christ, Robin."

Her nose wrinkles. "Have you?"

"No! No, I haven't done anything in here… in a while. And me and Y/N haven't-" He bites his tongue.

"You haven't?" she asks. There's no teasing to be detected in her voice, only curiosity.

He keeps his eyes on the road but his thoughts travel elsewhere. You're so close he convinces himself for a second that he can smell your sweet floral scent, a hundred different flowers clinging to your skin. He lets himself sink further, imagining the feeling of your cheek under his hand and the softness of your skin and fine hairs, the shape of your eyes as he leans in.

"Loverboy?" Robin asks expectantly.

Steve clears his throat. "What?"

"Ew, you're being disgusting."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to," she says, and then laughs. "In deep, huh?"

"Shut up."

"I'm serious! I'm serious, you like her. And it's nice," she draws the word out hesitantly, "to see you happy. I guess. After I broke your heart, and all."

He doesn't blush like he might have before. Steve had liked Robin, a lot, and it was easy to understand why: she's the first real friend he's ever had. He's more than over his crush now, platonic (with a capital 'P') suits them well.

"Thanks, Robs," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

"You're welcome." She whistles. "So, you haven't fucked?"

Steve turns his face. "Don't you think that's, like, a private thing?"

"I'm your best friend."

"Y/N is an entire other person who isn't your best friend."

"I'm not gonna tell anybody."

Steve knows that. He sighs to himself, conflicted. He doesn't wanna kiss and tell but he does need advice. "She's staying over tonight."

"Ah, huzzah!" Robin cheers. Steve worries his eyes might get stuck inside his head from all the rolling. "And you're gonna…"

He chews his lip. "I don't think so. I think I scared the shit out of her when I asked her to spend the night."

"I doubt that, she still said yes. But, you know. Not all of us lose our V-card when we're in junior year."

He hadn't even thought about that. "Shit. Having a girlfriend is terrifying."

Robin laughs and throws the seat back up. "If she's scared, it might not even be about hooking up. You've been together for, what, a week?"

"Two weeks today."

Robin nods thoughtfully and then shrugs. "Forget about sex and everything and just have fun."

"I'm not a nympho." He isn't. He doesn't care if you want to hook up or not (though care might be indelicate – he won't lie and say he hasn't thought about it).

"I know. I'm just saying, there's no point worrying about if you will or won't."

He takes the turn onto Robin's street. Her house comes into view, and he suddenly realises, "I wasn't worried until you brought it up!"

"Then forget I said anything!" she shouts back, laughing.

Steve laughs too as he pulls up at the curb outside of Robin's house.

"It's fine," he says decidedly. He's still worrying about it because if you do want to hook up he's not exactly in practice right now, but underneath it is that building anticipation, an excitement. "Fuck, she's so fucking pretty, Robin."

"Sure is, idiot," Robin agrees, unbuckling and kicking open the door. "Wear a rubber or your kids will be pretty, too."

She closes the door with a smug smile.

"You're awful!" he calls at her retreating figure. She waves over her shoulder and doesn't look back.

Steve drops his head into the wheel and startles himself when it beeps.

By the time he's pulling up outside of his house he's forgotten all his sex-related nerves, any anxiety occluded by a want to see you. He rushes to clean up the huge mess he's made over the week in the kitchen and the smaller mess in the living room, soda cans and take out and all the gross things he'd rather die than have you see.

He throws open every window and heads out to the back yard to make sure the pool is actually swimmable. The sun is high but falling. The day's most punishing heat is over. Perfectly safe for sunbathing.

He doesn't have anything fancy but he fills a jug with water and tops it with badly cut orange slices to cool in the fridge while he waits for you.

Steve stretches, smells himself, realises he smells like sweat and checks his watch in alarm. Your visit is fast approaching but if he does it quickly he can shower before you get here.

He's not right. He's still in the shower when you knock the door. Steve almost kills himself as he scrambles over wet tiles. He's still basically soaking as he drags his clean clothes on, hair sopping and quickly saturating the neck of his shirt.

You smile when he opens the door, though your smile quickly fades. "I'm sorry, were you showering? I know I'm early, I just wanted to see you."

You look like you always do – pretty, so pretty, your hair a little messy, your shirt crinkled at the bottom, the slit in your skirt showing a tantalising stripe of your thigh. A breezy, thin outfit for the hot weather.

Steve couldn't say why but he needs to kiss you badly. He takes your shoulder into his hand to hold you in place and kisses the corner of your smile, your cheek, the small stripe under your earlobe. He lingers there for longer than the others, feeling the ever-present heat of your skin beneath his lips. He presses a second kiss over the first and then pulls away.

"Don't be sorry," he says. He pats your face. "I'm glad you're early. I wanted to see you more, I swear."

"You make everything a competition," you grumble, though your eyes evidence your bliss.

Steve leads you into the living room and you drop your backpack onto the couch. The sight of it makes him fawn, because you really are staying the night and you look cute and you'd wanted to see him. It's enough to make him ecstatic. It likely shows on his face.

You turn on your heels, taking it all in. "You have a really nice house, Steve."

"I'd say thank you, but it's all my parents'."

"Where are they?" you ask.

Where are they usually? He doesn't really know. "Chicago, I think? My dad's on business and mom always goes with him, so…"

You turn your eyes from the open patio door and back to Steve where he stands in the middle of the room towel drying his hair. "Lucky me, I get you all to myself," you murmur.

"Do you wanna take your shoes off?" he asks. "There's water in the fridge. Are you hungry?"

You peek up at home where you've bent down to unstrap your sandals and smile. "I'm good, Stevie," you say softly.

When you've stepped out of both sandals you hold them by the straps and they dangle from your hand, swaying with your steps as you walk towards him.

You look up at him and tilt your head to one side. Always charming, Steve's fondness for sky rockets.

"Are you okay?" you ask, a murmur, raising your hand to his bicep. Your fingers slip under his sleeve. "You seem frazzled. Long day?"

It felt endless, knowing that you'd be waiting for him.

"I'm fine. I'm good. I'm great, actually. Got a whole night with my girl."

"And tomorrow, too," you say, sounding as happy as he feels.

"What are we gonna do with it all?" he says teasingly.

Again, a flash of that nervous smile. He hadn't meant to insinuate anything at all. He's about to clarify when you bring your hand to his collar and kiss him.

Steve really likes your hands, he's fascinated by them, the way you move them and the way they feel, their tentative but tender touch as you feel along the ridge of his collar bone. You come to a stuttering pause as he kisses you harder, the wet of your tongue addictive as he opens you up.

He takes your face into both hands and pushes your face to one side so he can move in closer, thumbs careless where they press into your cheeks. You taste like something sweet and the sound you make is sweeter as he dedicates himself to your top lip, a quivering breath as he slows.

He tries not to feel smug at the lost glaze in your eyes when they blink open.

Your bottom lip shines. He wipes it clean with his thumb. "You wanna go sunbathe now?" he asks mildly.

You nod like he thought you would, slow, but then there's a sudden clarity on your face. "I brought you something."

You move out of his reach and he follows. You're only stepping towards the couch where your backpack rests, unzipping it and in no rush as you pull your pajamas out and lay them on the cushion. He tries very hard to pretend he hasn't noticed your underwear, a pair of pink lacy panties, but he thinks maybe you can tell as you turn to him with a tupperware of cookies in your hands.

"More flower shortbread?" he asks happily. "You spoil me."

"I think you're someone who deserves to be spoiled."

Steve's mouth goes dry. He holds his hands out for the tupperware and hugs it to his chest, throwing a hand around your shoulders to tug you close. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you," he says.

"You're welcome."

He takes your hand and pulls you out into the backyard. You beam, your head tilting back to take in the warmth of the fading sun.

Steve drags two sun loungers close together and you waste no time in stretching out on one.

You bloom.

There's no other word for it. You unfurl like the petals on your beloved flowers. Your body relaxes completely. Steve reaches across the gap to take your hand again and they hang between your languid bodies.

You're smiling as you balance your red shiny Walkman across your chest and click play, adjusting the volume until the feminine scratch of Cyndi Lauper echoes over the concrete space of his backyard. You close your eyes soon after, and Steve knows he might not get as much conversation out of you as he craves but it's worth it to see you like this, to hold your hand.

He struggles to open your tupperware with one hand but doesn't consider letting you go, eyebrows furrowing at the stubborn lid.

When it clicks it's loud and he inhales fast, worried the entire thing is gonna topple off of his chest and your perfect shortbread biscuits will be destroyed. Flower petals adorn the top. Steve picks them off while you're not looking – they're beautiful, of course, and don't taste like much, but the texture is super weird.

"How was work?" you ask.

He takes a big bite of shortbread. "It was fine. I mean, it was fucking boring as hell. We watched Back to the Future again."

"I've never seen that movie."

"Never?"

"No. Is it good?"

He squeezes your fingers and pushes the rest of the shortbread into his mouth. It's not too sweet. You've dusted the tops with fine sugar that melts in his mouth and the crumbly texture is awesome, better than any store bought cookies he's ever tried.

He swallows and lets his head fall back, greedy enough to pick up a second one. "Wanna hear a story?"

You turn your head towards him and your eyes crack open. "A good one?"

"Depends on your politics."

You close your eyes. "Tell me."

"The first time I saw Back to the Future was at the Starcourt mall with Robin. We were high out of our minds, total whitey's. And I had a concussion, so I was… worse."

Your eyes open fast. Your one shoulder lifts, like you might have to protect him from something. "What?" you ask, frowning.

He pulls your hand towards him, a tug, not to come closer but more in an everything is okay, kind of way.

"It's fine. Anyways, we laughed our asses off and left before the end. The first time we watched it sober I thought it was the wrong movie."

"Why did you have a concussion?"

He shakes the tupperware at you until you take one. Only when you've bitten into it does he answer, though he's not entirely truthful, "It was like, you know how there was a fire?" he asks. You nod. "Well, everything in starcourt was fucking janky, and we went down this one elevator shaft and- concussion." He explains without explaining. He doesn't lie.

No way is he ready to tell you about all the weird shit he's had to deal with. Not yet. He doesn't wanna scare you off or scare you at all, and the upside down shit is fucking terrifying.

You take his explanation without any suspicion and he feels a little guilty.

"You should get workers comp," you say, brows pinched.

He chuckles and rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. Being cared about like this is so weird, he thinks. How mad and worried you are over something that happened before you knew him makes him feel hot, something electric and melting on top of his chest.

"You wanna be my lawyer?" he asks, grinning.

You reach for another shortbread. "I wouldn't know the first thing about it."

"You'd look cute in a suit, though."

"Shush," you mumble. You roll your thumb over your shortbread until the flower petals fall off. "They're so pretty but they feel so weird. Maybe I shouldn't put them on there."

He looks at the scattered flower petals on the floor to his left where you can't see them. "Nah, I like 'em."

You glow. "If you like them I guess I'll leave them on there."

"That's generous. You'd never be a good lawyer."

"Lawyers can be generous! They do stuff for free, right? Pro-bono. Like that one movie last year, with the guy who kills his wife, but he doesn't kill his wife, but he totally does, um…"

"Jagged Edge."

"Jagged Edge! Exactly."

"Was she pro bono?" he asks sceptically.

"Maybe not," you say, and laugh. "That movie sucked."

"Better than Back to the Future."

You choke on a laugh and pull your hand out of his to dust yourself off. He misses your touch but doesn't complain, clicking the lid back onto your tupperware and hiding them under the lounger from the heat. The sunshine is amazing, not too suffocating but definitely warm enough to melt him into jelly. He'd been a little worried about wearing shorts rather than jeans but you hadn't mentioned anything.

He combs his hair out of his face and wonders if it looks awful. It probably does. Only the strands closest to his neck feel chilly with damp, half dried by the sunshine.

"Steve," you say shyly.

He turns back to you and you're sitting up, one leg off the lounger.

"What?"

"Can I… you don't mind if I take off my shirt, do you?" you ask.

He's quick to assure you. "No way, beautiful. Throw it off."

You huff a laugh and cross your arms. Steve's fascinated by the way you take off your shirt, how you've dragged the front over your face where he would've grabbed the back and pulled indelicately. Your back arches and your chest moves up as it comes off.

You're wearing some sort of animal print bikini top underneath, a cheetah or a panther or something. Steve watches the curves of your breasts rise as you breathe in and then snaps his gaze to your face, guilty. You aren't looking at him, busy fiddling with the Walkman in your lap.

"Do you have anything you wanna listen to?" you ask him offhandedly. "I brought this and A Night at the Opera, but if there's something else you wanted to-"

"Night at the Opera?"

"Queen?" you ask.

"Like Hammer to Fall?" he asks.

You turn to face him entirely, skirt ruffled by a gentle breeze. "That's their new one. Night at The Opera is from, like, '76? '75? It has that really long one. And there was," you start giggling, your words all jumpy and honeyed, "there's one called 'I'm in Love with my Car.'"

"Sounds like an album for me. I'll go get it."

You spring up, something he can't read on your face. You look fucking insane shirtless, all soft and shiny, the lightest sheen of sweat illuminating the hills and dips, the slope of your shoulder, the lengths of your arms. "No, I'll do it. I'll get the water at the same time."

He watches you pass back into the house from over his shoulder. "It's in the fridge!" he calls.

"I guessed!"

He wonders for a second why you'd sounded nervous before remembering your underwear. His cheeks go a similar colour as he tries not to think about it, only he can't not think about it. They had not constituted a great deal of fabric, and then he's wondering how much the current ones are made up of and feeling guilty for that too.

She's my girlfriend, he thinks. I can think about these things. Not, like, obsessively. But in passing. God, she's fucking beautiful. He descends into a panicked reasoning.

Steve scrubs his face with his hand and looks out over the pool. It's been a while since they used it. He can't say he wants to use it after last time, and he definitely wouldn't consider any night time swimming but if you want to splash around in there in the daylight hours he's not gonna stop you.

You flounce back onto the patio with the cold jug in your hands and two glasses hugged to your chest, the cassette in the other. "Here, Stevie, can you-"

"Yeah." He stands up. He takes the cassette and jug from you and you manoeuvre the glasses into your hands. "Swap?" he asks.

You swap one glass for the cassette and the two of you sit down in tandem. Steve pours water for you both as you take Cyndi Lauper out, the cold a blessing. He holds his glass to his face and sighs.

"It's still hot even though it's late," you say knowingly.

"Endless Indiana summer." You're struggling with the cassette, your lips puckered in confusion. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I think I jammed it."

He watches you struggle with the lip that doesn't wanna open. "Pass it over?" he offers.

You pass it as soon as he asks, moving to sit by his side. He's very gentle with the small machine that you've once or twice affectionately monikered your 'baby'. He doesn't know a lot about tech and doesn't know why he offered. It had felt automatic. You had a problem and he just wanted to fix it.

The button that usually opens the door is pressed down, but the door is closed. He digs his fingernail under the button and pulls it up until it pops back into place and tests the play button.

The cassette starts to spin.

"Sticky button," he says easily.

Your thigh presses into his. "You're a genius, Harrington."

"That's Steve to you, babe."

You laugh and shift ever closer, until your arm is pressed to his arm, both perspiring lightly and too warm to really be touching like this. He should pull away, or you should. One of you should.

"Whatever you say…Harrington," you murmur through the corner of your mouth, smiling so nicely that he can't be bothered to argue.

He tucks his hand between your arm and your naked chest and pulls it toward him. You drop your head against his shoulder and turn the Walkman in your hand.

"How's your brain? Jello?" he asks lightly, flexing his fingers against the crook of your elbow and resting his head on top of yours carefully

"Jello pudding pops," you say wistfully. "You remember those? I haven't had one of those in years. Think they still make 'em?"

Your question is out of the blue. Enough to worry him some more.

He brings the arm furthest from you to your head and brushes his pinky finger up from your eyebrows to your hairline. "You feel warm."

"I'm perfectly fine, nelly."

"I'm allowed to be nervous. You were kind of out of it last time."

"We've barely been out here for thirty minutes," you argue with barely any heat.

His hand smooths down to your neck and then back up. He pulls your cheek back with his thumb and then drops his hand. "Just tell me if you feel sick, okay?"

"I promise I'm fine."

"Jeez," he groans, his lips barely parted. A fond annoyance. "Think a guy was asking the world."

You let your weight lean on him, the hand of the arm he's hugging moving around his back until you've found his side. You move it up and down sluggishly.

Like this, Steve has a perfect view of your lovely shoulder. One hidden behind, the other bared.

"You're beautiful," he says.

You tense up and he hates it, bringing his hand to your coveted shoulder. He rubs a line up the soft slope, the curve of your neck and then down again until you've relaxed.

"You… can't even see my face," you murmur. Your breath is a small hot patch into his sleeve.

"I don't need to see your face," he says, feigning a frustration he doesn't feel. "Think I haven't stared at you enough to know? And I was talking about your shoulders."

You laugh and drag your face up. "My shoulders?"

"Well I can only see one. But I assume the second is just as nice."

"You're weird," you say.

There's a certain weakness to it. He thinks maybe you need to hear him say it again. He doesn't hesitate.

"You have nice shoulders."

You shake your head almost imperceptibly. Steve takes the player from your lap and turns it down by half, putting it on the floor with the water jug.

Your legs poke into his as he encourages you towards him.

"Come on," he says, "I don't bite, babe. 'Less you ask me to."

"You'd like that, you sicko."

He laughs and really bundles you up, a too warm hug where your face presses to his shoulder and his hovers above yours. He squeezes and drags his hand down your arm, rough but not cruel.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Shh, I'm busy."

You've wrapped your arms around his waist loosely. Steve tugs your thigh over his until your legs are overlapped, as close as you can be while sitting side by side like this. He'd pull you completely into his lap if he thought you'd let him.

He can feel your smile.

His hand soothes a kinder path over your arm before he gives in. Shyly at first, Steve drops his mouth to your shoulder and leaves it there, barely a kiss.

Don't be a loser, he thinks.

Cautious but sincere kisses. He drops them in a uniform line down your arm, your sunned skin hot under his lips. Kisses not meant to be anything but kisses, little worships, a scattering of affection. Indiscriminately. His mouth passes over blemishes, beauty marks, the fine hairs at the top of your arm. You curl tighter around his waist.

He kisses back up the hill of your shoulder and his lips part. He sucks very, very gently, kissing the same spot until he's adorned your skin with shiny crescent moons. He doesn't know how long he kisses you for. He doesn't want to stop, or pause, or do anything but this.

His hands have moved to your back. One toys with the tie of your bikini top unthinkingly, the other rubbing your shoulder. You're limp in his arms.

He rubs his nose against your shoulder for long, quiet minutes. Perfumed by a thousand flowers and yet you still smell like yourself underneath it, your skin an indescribable scent and secret, something he selfishly doesn't ever want to share. Steve can't make himself move from you and you don't seem inclined either.

He groans. "Alright, you hungry?" he asks.

Your fingers stretch across his back. "Maybe."

"I'll call Mazzio's. What do you want?"

"Anything."

Steve pulls back to give you a fierce look. "Just tell me. I gotta know your favourite toppings. S'like, a boyfriend thing."

"A boyfriend thing?" you repeat, smiling wide.

You tell him what you like and he squeezes your shoulder, disappearing into the house to call the pizza place. When he returns you've laid out in his lounger, your eyes closed like you're sleeping. The worst of the heat has fallen away and cloud cover threatens to give you the chills.

"Come inside?" he asks from the doorway.

"No… come and give me another hug. It was nice."

"I bet it was," he mutters, a feigned irritation that's completely overturned by how quickly he does what you tell him to.

The lounger isn't big enough for both of you. Steve's already laughing as he climbs on top of you, careful but not really as he crushes the fabric of your skirt with his knees and thighs and wraps his arms tightly around your neck, rubbing your foreheads together roughly.

"This what you meant?" he asks through a grin.

"No."

-

Steve's bed smells of him unequivocally. You're trying to withhold from lying down and sniffing, wondering curiously if that's something you're 1) allowed to do, and 2) supposed to want to do. Is it odd to like the way he smells as much as you do? That familiar bergamot, the almost smokey undertone of lavender, cedar. It makes you feel doped up. Your happiness has you heavy-limbed.

"You head up, okay? I'm just gonna lock the door," he'd said.

So here you are, backpack at your feet. After greasy takeout and an entire movie holding hands you think you're probably as content as it's possible to be in this body and in this life.

You hear Steve's footsteps up the stairs and lie down flat against his pillows, turning your face to sniff indulgently, the fabric cold under your cheek.

He walks in and he's all rumpled clothes and smiles, his hair in total disarray like you've never seen. As soon as he's crossed the threshold he's pulling off his polo and you think Oh fuck, that was quicker than I imagined this happening. Your heart feels fit to explode but he's barely looking at you, his sights set on the huge oak dresser at the end of the room.

You watch his arms as he walks past, your heart a hummingbird as Steve says, "Did you pick a movie?"

You gawp at what you can see of his naked chest, the side of a pec. You've never seen him undressed like this. Your distraction leaves you quiet, and Steve turns to you with a soft looking t-shirt in hand.

"Baby?"

"I didn't," you say, your voice scratchy. "Uh, sorry. I just laid down and…forgot."

He bends forward a little before he puts the shirt on and his entire chest moves. You can't help but look at it. Steve has… Steve has pecs. Pillowy-

"Y/N?"

"Sorry," you say, blinking hard.

"Are you tired or something?" He turns back to the dresser and opens a different drawer and pulls out a pair of sweatpants. "Don't look," he says teasingly.

You avert your eyes.

"Do you wanna change?" he asks when he's done, leaning back against the dresser with his arms crossed.

You don't know what Steve wants, if he wants to hook up or if he doesn't, and you don't mind either way. (A bad lie – you really, really want to.) (But it's cool if he doesn't want to.)

You won't be upset if he doesn't make a move, but if he does you'd prefer to be less sweaty.

"Can I shower? Not to wash my hair, just…"

"Sure you can."

Steve holds out his hand and you take it, grabbing your backpack as he pulls you off of the bed and into the bathroom. He drops your hand as fast as he'd taken it to open the cabinet under the sink. "Listen, the shower doesn't work. Well, it does, but the hot water only gets lukewarm and I don't know how to fix it. But the bath works fine. Uh…" He pulls a basket of girly toiletries out. "You can use whatever you want, my stuff or my mom's, whatever."

You stand by the tub. "She won't mind?"

"It's fine. I'll have to get you stuff next time you stay over." He moves you to the side with his hand on your hip and you look up as he moves down, turning the faucet. He holds his hand under the stream and messes with the temperature until he's satisfied. "Sorry. I should've thought about all of this before I asked you to spend the night."

"It's okay," you say quietly. "I didn't think about any of that stuff either. It's like I said, I- I just wanted to see you. Wasn't thinking about shower gel."

You laugh awkwardly. It ebbs when he grabs your shoulder and gives you a little shake. "Half as much as I wanted to see you."

He ends the shake with a good rub of his thumb.

"Want me to get in with you?" he asks with a smirk.

You laugh and start shoving at his chest playfully. "Get out," you whine.

He puts his hands up in surrender and you close the door between you, unsurprised when his voice rings out against it. "You come here often?" he asks.

"Do you?" you ask. Your voice sounds loud.

You strip off your clothes and your bikini top and slip into the water.

"Every morning for the last twenty years."

"What do you recommend?"

"The three in one."

You gawp and giggle, horrified at his suggestion. You know he's lying, his hair's too nice to use something like that. There's a few seconds of silence where you shudder at the new heat and rub yourself down.

"Which shower gel is yours?" you ask, looking between bottles unsure.

"Just use whatever you want. What movie d'you wanna watch?"

"Can't you choose?" you ask, bringing each gel to your nose until you find the one that smells like him. You lather the soap between your palms and run it over your body.

"I picked the last one."

"And you're good at it!" You reason, laughing loudly at your own joke. Steve's reluctant chuckles echo from the other side of the door.

You go to ask, Why are you still standing there, dork? But you're afraid that asking will make him move, and you like him too much to want that to happen.

"You were half asleep, how do you know it was good?"

"You were rubbing my hand!" you argue.

"You liked that?" he asks. His tone is honest.

You cup water in both hands to wash off your shoulders. You don't want to answer and give yourself away. Of course you'd fucking liked it, is he kidding? Boys. No, you think, not boys. Steve.

And after the stunt he'd pulled in the back yard, too. The nerve.

Warm water laps at your naked stomach. You think about his lips running over your shoulder and how tenderly he'd held you. Suddenly the water feels scorching, and you climb out over the lip as Steve says, "How much longer?"

"Stop stalking me."

"You're taking forever."

It's barely been five minutes. You go dizzy with pleasure at the idea that he might miss you so badly, the implication that he likes you that much.

You wrap a towel around yourself and squat down to sort through the contents of your bag for your pajamas and underwear.

"I'm getting dressed," you inform him, putting your clothes on the counter so you can dry off.

"I've never been any good at that," he says.

You pull your underwear over damp thighs and laugh under your breath so he can't hear it and get spurred on. "At getting dressed?"

"Right. Just awful. You should see me in the mornings, it's like, what limb does this go on?"

You stop scrubbing the towel over yourself to ask, "Are you flirting with me?"

"I'm trying. You're dodging the punchline."

"Wouldn't you want me to teach you how to take them off, rather than on?"

"How presumptuous!" You can hear his smirk.

"What was the punchline?" you ask, eager to draw the attention back to his bad joke rather than your suggestion.

You pull your shirt over your head and step into your pyjamas pants, tying the strings into a neat bow.

"Well, because you're so ridiculously nice I thought you'd offer to teach me how to do it, and then I'd get to say something like, 'Baby, I'm a visual learner.'"

"That's awful," you mumble, bent at the waist as you hop into your socks.

He hears it anyways. "Say it to my face."

You look yourself over in the mirror. Fresh faced, shirt sticking to your damp chest, pajama trousers high on your hips. You tug your shirt over the waistband. An entirely normal outfit for a normal night.

You open the door and Steve falls onto his back into the bathroom, looking up as you look down. He must've been sitting with his legs hiked, too much weight on the door to fall in readily. You laugh guiltily.

"Are you okay?"

He blinks. His eyes look impossibly wide.

"Steve?" You tilt your head to the side.

"You look killer," he says.

You mime like a slasher over his prone body and try to do the sound effects. Steve giggles and you decide it's your new favourite sound. He covers his face with his hands, one shoulder lifting from the floor with the force of it. You've never heard him laugh like this, all high pitched and gasping.

You can't decide whether you want to kneel down and kiss him or kneel down and pretend to stab him to death. You think the latter will make him laugh some more and you'll do anything for that next hit, falling to your knees with a threatening hand poised above you.

When Steve laughs really hard his mouth opens in a big smile, all his top teeth on display and shining.

You drop your hand to his chest, having lost all steam. The need to tell him how handsome he is, pretty, lovely, beautiful, all of it, is maddeningly high. You don't want to ruin the moment and you won't, spreading your palm flat over his chest and leaning down.

"I'm gonna kill you," you murmur, lips barely parted as you look between both of his eyes, memorising their flush of dark lashes. You drag your hand down his torso. "Why are you laughing?"

"I mean, if I'm gonna die-" He blows a big puff of air up his face and his hair moves like sea grass. "I'm okay with it being you who kills me."

"You'd let me kill you, baby?" you ask, still quiet, bemused and endeared and on the precipice of something big.

"I'd let you do a lot worse," he says.

You brush the hair out of his face. "I don't wanna do any of that stuff."

"Good. I was getting nervous. Here, give me-" he lifts up off of the ground to kiss you once. A chaste peck that leaves you a smiling mess.

You climb off of him before he has to ask and put your hand out to help him up. He takes it but doesn't need it, surprisingly lithe as he stands and pushes you back into his room. You laugh when he encourages you none too gently into his bed again. He flips on the TV, swaps the VHS out for one you can't see and then joins you at the top, lying down with a suffering sigh.

He stretches and groans. You ogle him.

"What's the movie?"

"Don't laugh?" he asks.

"No, I won't."

He shifts so you're two halves of a heart curved towards each other. "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." You nibble the inside of your lip. "You said you wouldn't laugh!"

"Am I laughing, Steve?"

"Just about," he grumbles.

You don't know why but it feels more than natural to curl up towards him. Any insecurity is fixed quickly when he pulls you close, one arm behind your head and propping him up tall, the other coming over your waist loosely, his wrist to your hip but his fingers not touching you.

You have to turn your neck to see the TV across the room. After a few minutes it aches and you consider moving, then Steve manoeuvres to press his lips to your head and you forget all about it.

His shirt's ridden up. His stomach is soft from the way he's on his side, and you can see the dark trail of hair leading from his navel that disappears into the plaid of his pants.

You reach out to slip your fingers under the hem and wrap your arm around him, feeling the croft of silky hair at the small of his back. You trail up, your finger bumping over the smoothed ridges of horizontal stretch marks.

"Can you feel that?" you ask.

Steve slowly moves his elbow. His face level with yours, he asks, "Can you feel this?" He scratches his fingers lightly over your hip.

You giggle with your mouth closed. "Yeah, I guess it was a stupid question."

Steve moves back and you turn to look at him. You're very close. You're in bed.

"Wasn't stupid," he says quietly.

You raise your brows and incline your head to his until he's laughing.

"It was misguided," he allows.

"I don't know why- I mean, I have enough stretch marks. I know they're not-" you laugh, a bubble of sound that warms his lips, "not dead."

"Maybe yours are special," he teases.

"Wanna find out?"

He laughs and kisses you. Pressure that slowly builds, a chaste pressing of his lips to yours. It's miraculous how quickly your breathing syncs, how you're inhaling at every parting, how your mouths open at the same time. He takes in a big sigh that lights you up and pulls you in like it's nothing.

He dedicates himself to your top lip. There's urgency there that wasn't before, and you're feeling it too. His mouth a crescent of heat, he takes your lip between his and sucks gently. You gasp and your hand twists in his shirt.

"Shit, sorry," he says, "I haven't done this in-"

"It's okay. It's okay, I liked it."

"Yeah?"

You huff against his lips. He's smiling as he does it again. You shudder at the feeling of his teeth, his careless nipping, your hands searching for comfort.

Everything goes slow. He kisses slow, he touches slow. His hands move over your back, slip under your shirt and climb up. Not looking for anything, just looking.

Your hand climbs over his chest. You brush your fingers through the ends of his carefully before pushing up, weaving into the soft strands at the back of his neck. You rub his thumb over his skin in time with your kisses.

Steve encourages you onto your back. You feel a heat growing in your chest, somewhere lower, as he hovers over you, his lips pushing you down into a space that doesn't exist. Your fingers are busy learning the back of his head, fingertips moving over his scalp, scratching lightly as you trail back down to hold him in place.

You kiss up. Steve's hand knocks your shirt up your chest as he squeezes the skin just below your breasts, breathing hard.

He hesitates. His fingers pinch your shirt as if he's going to pull it back down.

"Steve," you murmur. "It's okay."

He kisses your cheek without looking at you, his eyes on your naked skin. "You sure?"

You bring your knees up until they brush his hip and push them away from him, petting the hair out of his face. "Yeah," you say, smiling.

More kissing. Steve ducks down and holds your face steady in one hand, giving you short-lived, wet kisses as his fingers approach your chest. He pauses, watching your face as his fingertips bump into the swell of your breast. "Okay?" he asks.

You lift your chin. "It's fine, Harrington."

"Steve," he corrects steadily, the pads of his fingers ghosting under your nipple to caress the side. His thumb rubs a quarter circle just underneath and you feel the soft skin perk up.

"Steve," you utter.

From there you endure some of the worst kisses of your life – worst as in, life changing, as in sticky, as in everything you've ever wondered about and more. You know you're hopeless. You feel yourself melt into nothing as he massages your peaking nipple, laughing into his mouth when he squeezes and hitching when he squeezes harder.

He pushes the small nub between his index and middle finger and his teasing stutters. He holds you like this and kisses you and you don't know how much time passes. With him, time feels implausible. Like a guideline you ignore.

When you think you might be more him than yourself he pulls away, leaving your lips hot and bruising.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, pulling the hem of your shirt over his finger. His eyes are so brown. You can't believe how brown they are.

"Please."

"Don't- You don't have to say please with me. Not with this, okay?" He rubs his hand over your breast and presses it deep into your heart. "Not with anything."

"You'll regret that," you say, heat like nothing you've ever felt in your chest and the tips of your ears.

"I don't think I will."

He kisses you again like he just can't help it and sits up enough to work your t-shirt from under your back. The excitement gets mixed up with enough insecurity then to make you nauseous.

Steve drops your shirt onto the floor and plants his hands on either side of you. "Oh, you're fucking pretty."

His eyes take you in. It surprises you when he spends half the time staring at your face, entirely too much of it at your eyes. "You know how pretty you are?"

"You tell me enough, Stevie," you mumble, aflame.

"Wanna hear it again?"

You don't say anything. His eyes bore into yours. His lashes kiss.

His grin is practically dietific as his lips curve up. "You're beautiful. 'So fine and pretty,'" he says, almost but not quite singing.

"You're just as handsome," you say, bringing your hands to his defined cheeks. You smooth your hands over his face and ears and hair, holding it all away from him. "You're…" You drop your hands to the curve of his neck and follow over his trap muscle. "You're amazing."

"Stop," he says. You take it for 'keep going'.

"Handsome sounds too formal," you mutter, almost to yourself, "but it's true. You're handsome. More than handsome, you're- you're funny and kind and-" You shake your head. "I think you're the first person I've ever wanted like this."

You don't mean to get emotional. 'This' comes out so rough it burns, and you swallow it all down, blinking fast.

"Like 'this'?" he asks.

He brings a hand to your face, holding your cheek like you're made of solid silver, like you might bend under his touch.

"Like this," you say again. "If you want to."

"I want to," he says, nodding happily. "Of course I do."

You laugh and he laughs. There's a gap where you're both thinking, Oh, we're doing this.

And then Steve's in motion.

He pulls his shirt over the back of his head and you're starstruck. His hair's a dark mess, the ends cast light by the TV. You reach up to smooth them down and it's too late, Steve's ducking down for a smattering of heavy kisses across your lips, one corner to the other. His nose taps into yours and you turn your face to accommodate him, his tongue a wet heat as he pushes it into yours. You reciprocate as best you can, eyes closed tight and hands all over the place. You start at his collar. One hand runs over the twisting of chest hair over his pecs and the other holds his face to yours. He curls his fingers around your wrist, the other paying some much needed attention to your neglected breast. He plays until both nipples are aching and then some.

He spreads your legs and your heart skips as he puts his knee between your thighs, lips starting a ruinous journey downward. He sets kisses like tiny sparks of heat against your jaw and under it, nose dragging down your neck as he turns. You cup the back of his head as his lips part, as he takes your flesh between his teeth and sucks tenderly.

"You smell like flowers," he says, kissing his half-hearted hickey.

"Some idiot bought me a florists," you tease.

His hand slides under your back. His knee presses to the bump of your cunt. "Best decision that idiot ever made," he says, words soaking into your neck, smothered.

You roll your hips shyly against his knee, a negligible friction as he rubs your back and scandalises your neck.

You lift your hips high and he gets the idea very quickly, fingers pinching at fabric until your thighs are out. He tries to move away and you hold him there, dazed by his ravenous attentions.

He laughs and strokes your arm. "I'm gonna take them off, okay?"

You drop your hands from his hair sheepishly and he moves back onto his knees.

"Pretty panties," he says. You don't think he's teasing.

"I thought you might like them," you tell him honestly.

"I do. They're dainty," he says, sliding your pajama pants off of your ankles. "Almost don't wanna take 'em off."

You feel a little bit nervous and decide to direct your attention to his own pants. There's a noticeable bulge at the seat of them. Your cunt twinges at the sight.

Steve's hands worship at your ankles. "Is everything okay?" he asks.

"This is the first time you're seeing me like this. I'm just nervous."

He pulls your foot onto his thighs and fiddles with the elastic of your sock. "If you could see what I'm seeing, I don't think you would be."

You try to imagine yourself as he sees you. Mostly naked and kiss mussed after a day of sun and fun and his affection, the dopey, slightly shy smile, with one arm crossed under your breasts and the other picking nervously at the lace of your underwear.

"You're fucking killer." He mimes a stabbing motion and you giggle. "I don't have to let you kill me, seeing you like this might just do it."

You let him keep your ankle in his lap but bring the other leg up, folding it across your thigh to hide your cunt from view. His eyes dip to the twin globes of your ass and he groans. Your ears strain to hear it.

"Are you gonna take them off?" you ask, eyes on the curve of his dick, eyebrows raised cheekily.

"You don't wanna take them off for me?" he asks. Your startled expression makes him giggle as he slides off of the bed and hooks his thumbs in the waistband.

He kicks them off, his boxers tighter than you'd pictured. You hike up on your elbows and bring your knees together, biting the inside of your lip as his hand drops to his cock. He readjusts the sizable length and a hiss of breath escapes him as he does.

"Fuck," he groans. "Shit, you're fucking- you're fucking everything."

You rub your thighs together coquettishly. "Come back and kiss me?" you ask. He takes a step forward. You tilt your head towards your shoulder. "Are you gonna take those off too?"

You had your suspicions, but the real thing makes your heart stop.

Steve kicks out of his boxers and holds his hands out. You spread your legs and he climbs on top of you, hands braced above your shoulders until he's negotiated himself into the gap. You feel the curve of his cock press into your stomach as he kisses you.

You try your best to be casual and let him kiss you, but you're curious and excited and you can't not think about it now that it's happening.

You stroke your hands down his back and leave them loose at his waist. "Steve," you whisper, breaking the kiss early.

"You wanna touch me?"

"Please?" you whisper.

"What did I say about please?" he murmurs. He doesn't sound very scolding.

"That I don't have to say it."

He leans back on his haunches. "So don't."

You sit up, hands between your laps and wringing. "Uh," you reach out. "Tell me if I do something wrong?"

He softens. "Sure, baby."

You lean in and Steve pulls you closer by the calves. Your hand trembles as you take his cock into your hands. He's thick. Fat. Girthier than you'd thought he would be and twice as hairy, though trimmed neatly at the outskirts, you slide your hand down to the underside of his shaft and pause.

When you align your hand, bottom of your palm to the very start of his shaft, the tip of your index finger misses the tip by two whole inches. You encircle him curiously.

"Spit in your hand," he says gently.

"Oh."

You spit into your hand and press it back into his cock, spreading it with loose strokes over veined ridges. The curls of his pubes brush your hand as you reach the bottom. The entire length of him jumps.

You're honestly dazzled. You laugh out of the corner of his mouth and look up at him with a happy smile. "You're packing a lot of heat here, Harrington."

He looks relieved. "Do you know how fucking scary it is when your girl has your dick in her hand and gets the giggles? I started second-guessing everything I thought about myself."

"I can see why you're popular with the ladies," you murmur, eyes bright with mirth as you dip down and kiss the tip where a dot of precum wells.

"Oh, don't, baby."

"Huh?" You sit up tall. "Do you wanna stop?"

"The opposite. I don't know how long I'll last, especially," he pulls you by the chin to his lips, "in this pretty mouth."

More giggles. He swallows them in their entirety, hand wrapped around your wrist to pull your fingers from his length. Your hands go limp, languid under his gentle kisses and featherlight touching.

You pull away from each other but fight to kiss anyways, cheeks aching with a smile as he steals one, another, a handful of sweet, catching pecks.

You pout as he pulls away.

"D'you wanna lie back?" he asks, hand behind his neck. He rakes his fingers through his hair.

You lie down with his pillows under your head.

Steve smooths his thumbs against the waistband of your panties.

"It's okay," you say, wiggling your hips from left to right encouragingly.

He drags them down. Over the slopes of your thighs and the hills of your knees, he slides them down to your calves. He pulls them off one ankle and they hang off of the other. You lift your leg and let the dampened pink fabric fall onto his rumpled sheets.

He crawls forward, hands hooking under your knee. "Lemme see you, babe."

You bring your legs up and spread your thighs, feet between his knees.

He takes his cock into his hand and tugs. "Fuck," he says, eyes heavy, "fuck, are you wet?"

"You've been kissing me for hours," you say bashfully.

"I'd kiss you longer if you're gonna let me. Can I touch you?"

You push your palm down to your cunt and spread yourself just slightly, more to get used to it than to tease him. "Yes, please."

Steve crawls until you're close and you settle your legs either side of him. He does as you'd done, pushing his thumb to the small well of slick at your entrance and spreading you open with his fingers. "Fuck," he says again. "Shit, baby. Look at you…"

He pushes his slick-wet thumb into the waiting bead of your clit. "There?" he asks.

You remember to breathe. "Yeah," you say, eyes drifting closed as he familiarises himself. You drop your head into his pillows, neck aching. "Right there."

"Aww," he says sympathetically, free hand pressed flat to the inside of your thigh, holding you open. "You have the cutest fucking pussy ever. Shit, i'so wet, you must have such a crush on me."

You smile to yourself and hide your face in a pillow that smells like him. "A huge one. It's kind of embarrassing."

"I bet it is."

His fingers probe your clit. It pulses under his touch, swollen and sensitive to every brush of skin.

"Can you come kiss me some more?"

He looks like he wants to argue.

"Please, Stevie."

Steve reaches over your chest and pulls open his nightstand, procuring a new box of rubbers. You flick his chest. "Is that a new box?"

"Maybe."

You kiss his shoulder and he rips one open with his teeth. "How many's in there?"

"Enough, you minx." He rolls it on.

Kissing. His weight pressed over you, his cock against your mess of slick. You whine as he grinds down into you hard, his tangle of dark curls a blessed friction.

His hips jerk back and the tip of his dick hits into your clit.

"Are you gonna tease me all night?" you ask.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, dropping his head next to yours, his arm wrapping around your neck. You turn your face to his. His eyes are closed and his smile is nearly peaceful, though the crinkle between his brows speaks to his growing desperation. It's as casual as any cuddle with him before. "I could."

"But you won't."

"No, I won't."

Steve gives you one last kiss and situates himself between your legs at full height, pushing your legs back until the tops of your thighs kiss the bump of your stomach. He takes his cock into his hand and guides the tip down the length of your crease. His head bumps your entrance.

You let one leg fall to the side, arm crossed under your rising chest, looking at Steve with bright, adoring eyes. He's beautiful above you, pumping his cock with one hand. The other plays at your weeping hole, fingertips dipping inside two at a time.

You clench around his fingers as they ease in.

"Shit, you're tight. You okay?"

You nod voraciously.

He spreads his fingers wide, his eyes rolling back showfully. "Fuck, babe… Gonna spread you wide open, yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Want you inside."

"Yeah?" His eyebrows are furrowed, a certain stress to his voice.

"Are you gonna make me say please?"

He takes your thighs into both hands and lines up. His grin is both salacious and adorable, a familiar mischief adorning his pretty features. "Never."

The stretch is a lot but he takes it slow. Really slow, his hands on your skin and constantly measuring your reaction. Which must be a super ego trip for him, because your face goes slack with pleasure and you have to focus a lot of energy on smiling rather than frowning; there's somethingwonderful about being this close to him. His cock pushes into you and you gasp with every gentle intrusion, every half inch of space he takes until he's halfway inside and staying there.

He bends over you and takes your face into his hand. You hadn't realised before you met Steve how often your face could be held by someone, and how safe it could make you feel. How the brush of someone's fingertips over your cheek could tickle and somehow you never want to move away. He pulls his hips back, rolls in, and your eyes crease with pleasure, lashes touching as you squint.

He smells like everything you're used to. He must be thinking the same thing as you, because he smiles, and says, "You might as well be a flower for how much you smell like one."

Bergamot. He touches something sensitive, gummy walls stretched around him. You whine under your breath.

Lavender. "Make that sound again?" he asks.

Cedarwood. The murmur of the TV fades away entirely. The only things you can hear are you and Steve. You; your panting, the high warping of every breath as his thick cock works you open. Steve; a panting all his own, a scratchy roughness. You try not to make too much noise in efforts to hear him.

The slightest hint of citrus. An impression. Maybe his breath, something lingering from the orange-infused water you'd sipped on earlier. His breath fans out over your collar as he bottoms out, a sound like a hiccup ripped from him.

You wrap your hands around his back. "Oh my god, Stevie."

"How's that feel? That okay?" He stays very still. "Pretty baby, taking all of me right now." He starts to move his hips in leisurely circles.

You pull him down for a kiss, a world away from being able to answer intelligibly. You're so full it aches, so full – the blunt tip of his cock pushes into your sweet spot and you have to break the kiss to gasp for air.

"Feels so good," you whisper, rubbing his back unhurried.

A shiver courses down your spine as he pulls out to push in again. The sound is filthy, an erotic slapping as his thighs hit into yours and he moans. He fucking moans.

"Fuck, Steve. Can you go faster?"

Steve forces his forearms under your shoulder blades and his forehead presses to your collar, lips sluggish as they kiss your chest. He pulls your nipple into his mouth as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically, sucking and nibbling and twisting, his ministrations sending little bolts of pleasure down to your throbbing cunt.

He kisses hickey after hickey into your chest. You're too busy getting fucked out to notice, lavished by his mouth and numbed by his cock. Every thrust starts to hit deep, and every thrust pulls an unintelligible sound from you. Panting turns to moaning, moans turn to mewls.

"Hear how wet you are? Do you hear that?" Steve asks as he pulls away. He flicks at your bruising nipples and pouts when you jump. "Sorry, I'm sorry. Not my fault you have the cutest rack ever."

"Steve!" you cry, flushing with an embarrassed heat.

"What? It's fucking true." He takes your hips into his hands and hits in hard, cock prodding your spongey g-spot unapologetically. "Cutest pussy, too."

He brings his hand down to your cunt and slows his pace, thrusts shallow and eyes wide as he spreads you open. You can feel your hole shaping around him, the stretch as he opens you up. His thick fingers press into the bead of your clit and he starts to draw, tight messy circles in time with his thrusts.

"Taking me so well, babygirl."

You cup your aching tits and feel them sway with every thrust, every hit of his thighs into yours. A sticky mess grows between you that leaves your clit wet with slick. Steve fights to find purchase as he spreads your lips, thumb coming up to pinch at it.

He moans and looks up at the ceiling, his throat bared as he rolls his hips and pulls you onto his cock. "Fuck…" he groans, beggy and out of breath.

You stare at him, unabashed in your rabid attraction.

"Fuck, Steve," you say between hitching breaths, "I'm lucky you're mine."

His gaze jumps to yours. He snaps his hips and you squeal happily. "Say that again."

"I'm lucky you're mine," you say without missing a beat. It's true.

He holds your hips in an iron grip and ruts into you, deep-seated and unrelenting. He's barely a half-inch back when he's rubbing back in, moulding you to the shape of his cock. Dark curls press into your clit as he leans forward.

"You wouldn't believe how perfect you look on my dick." He grinds down, pulls out and thuds back in.

Your face screws up.

"You like that, baby? You want me to do it again?"

You nod and open your arms. Steve falls into them, letting you wrap him up in a grip so tight you can feel the suggestion of his ribs, his chest hair scratching your chest as he repeats the motion. You squeeze your eyes closed and whimper into the top of his head, hands pulling at his back as he rocks in again and again and again.

"Y'making such a mess on me."

You're not surprised. Every thrust into your sopping heat sounds loud in the quiet of his room, and your slick is everywhere. Wetting the thatch of pubes around his cock, the insides of your soft thighs.

"Steve, can you- can you-"

He presses his fingers back to your clit. "This? Sorry, you're just gripping me tight, I had to hold onto something," he apologises, sounding a short fall from reverential. "I got you."

Your sticky thighs start to shake as he fucks into you, the quick rub of his fingers against your clit tightening the coil inside you until it's snapping hard. You can't even warn him, chasing the circles he's making with your hips as you force your face into his pillow and fall apart.

You want to hate the sound that you make. It's an embarrassing combination of a squeal and a breathless gasp, only partially muffled by the fabric under your lips. You find yourself unable when Steve chokes on his words, stuttering, "F-fuck, oh fuck, sweetheart, you sound like- like heaven. You fucking feel like it, clamping down on me."

Steve fucks into that extra snugness and you can see on his face that he's close.

You blink out of the haze of your climax and cover Steve's hand where it teases your overstimulated clit, pulling it up and around your neck. You slide your arms around him and scratch up his back lightly, his hips staggering into yours as you say, "You gonna cum too, baby? Please?"

"Fuck," he groans through gritted teeth.

You clench your walls down around him and the drag is insane, better when he gets his final burst of energy and fucks into you with big, rough thrusts, your knees clamped around his hips. His teeth close around your shoulder and he bites you, maybe harder than he means to, a white hot pain that lasts a split-second, his hitching breaths hot in your skin. His hips slow and his entire weight falls into your tummy, wrought with post-orgasm aching.

You rub his back, damp with perspiration.

He kisses an apology over his cruel hickey.

"Fuck," he whispers.

His kisses move up and he moves too. You both hiss – disturbed, sweaty, blood still pumping fast. He's only adjusting for the height advantage, his mouth at your ear.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You have a lot more to say, but you need a second.

Steve makes a humming sound at the back of his throat. "Can I go get a towel? I'll be right back."

"Yeah, Stevie. Whatever you wanna do," you say lightly, rubbing his back and hoping each pass of your palm implies the depth of your fondness.

Steve is cautious as he climbs off of you. You close your eyes and bring your hands to your sweaty face, fingers over your eyes before pushing them to either side of your forehead to stare at his ceiling, entirely blissed and in disbelief.

Steve climbs over you with a towel in hand. You can feel the warmth coming off of its wet corner.

He drops it onto your stomach and you go to pick it up. He grabs your hands in both of his and holds them, joined, against your shoulders. "I'll do it, but just-" He ducks his face to yours. "Let me kiss you."

You smile happily and close your eyes, fingers flexing in his grip as he brushes his lips against yours, at first gently and then with an enthusiastic pressure. You're worn out from everything and can't respond how you want to, but if Steve minds he doesn't say anything, hands squeezing your hands and his lips all lazy and curled up against yours.

Your chest hurts.

Steve keeps a hold of one hand as he breaks the kiss in favour of cleaning you up though quickly drops it to take your shaky thigh into his hand. Spread wide, he wipes every trace of slick he can find, especially kind to your centre.

He's already discarded the condom and wiped himself down. You reach out to stroke the start of his damp snail trail as he throws the towel on the floor next to your discarded clothes. Pulling the sheets where they'd fallen to the bottom of the bed over your naked bodies, Steve slouches onto his side.

"Come here," he says, pulling you into his chest with infinite tenderness.

You turn into his hold and ram your face into his skin, hand searching for the tempting curve of his bicep.

He drops a kiss into your temple and then another. You feel surprisingly awake, his body a hot and heavy thing beside you.

"Do you feel like talking?" he asks softly.

"Yeah," you say, giggling. "Yeah, sorry. God, Steve."

He bends at the waist to cuddle you like he's shielding you. "I know."

You lie there in his embrace and you can't stop thinking about it. That was perfect. That was fucking perfect. Right? You want to ask him. You'd never felt that pretty or pleased before in your life.

"God, that was fucking perfect," Steve says.

You rub your nose against his chest and giggle, an overabundance of joy bubbling messy at the surface. "I was just thinking that."

"Yeah?"

"Oh my god."

"I'm kind of pissed off. Like, if that's the standard, how am I gonna live up to this every time?"

Every time, you think.

"Maybe we just got really lucky. We're never gonna have sex that good ever again," you theorise.

He starts laughing, big, contagious chuckles that boom from the centre of his chest and catch you by surprise. He sounds as happy as you feel.

"Don't jinx it." He rubs his hand over your shoulder blades.

You kiss his chest lazily and he slinks down under the sheets with you, dragging you up until your face is eye-level with his. His eyes are closed and you close your own, moaning as he crushes you to his chest and starts to pat your back.

It's an immense domestic pleasure. You couldn't explain why, but the continuous, steady rhythm of his firm patting makes it easier to calm your racing heart.

"You look really beautiful," he says.

"Your eyes are closed."

"So? You looked beautiful when I closed them. I just want you to know. And your sounds… God, I'm gonna be touching you all the time if that's what you sound like."

"I love how you sounded too." You rub his chest with your knuckle. "I love that you sounded like that for me."

"Because of you."

"I meant what I said. I'm really lucky."

Steve pushes his hand behind your ear and draws your face from his. You open your eyes and find him already looking at you, eyebrows raised. "Thanks for telling me?"

"Shut up! You know what I mean. I'm lucky to have you."

"If you're lucky I'm fucking blessed."

"I've never heard you swear that much."

"And it's entirely your fault," he jokes.

You're okay with that.

You tuck yourself into Steve's neck and trace the lines of his body. The small roundness of his Adam's apple and the ridges of his collarbones, the small dip between his chest muscles and the line underneath his pec. You go to just below his ribs before needing your hand between his torso and his arm, hugging him like he's hugging you.

The hickey he'd given you on your shoulder twinges, reminding you of his maltreatment. You place your lips against his throat and mouth lazy kisses until he sighs in content. When you know you've lulled him into a false sense of security, you take his skin between your teeth and nip.

"What's that for?" he asks in bemusement.

"You tried to take a chunk of me."

"Shit," he says.

You kitten lick the tiny welt you've bitten into his pale skin and he tenses. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, wondering if he likes that, and deign to give him a smattering of wet, sloppy hickeys to find out.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, fingers brushing over the small embeddings of his teeth in your shoulder.

"Not really," you say, mouthing up until your nose is to his cheek. You close your eyes as he turns his head. You can feel his breath against your lips. "No, I like it, anyway."

Your arms slide over his back as he pulls back to take you in. You stare at each other, not sure how to say anything that hasn't already been said or anything that hasn't been felt. He looks pretty and ragged, perfect hair mussed and dainty brown lashes in damp triangles. The dim lighting shadows his face, the lightest brightness under the well of his eye.

"I wish I was one of the old masters."

He smiles. "What's that?"

"Like, the great artists. Painters, masters of their craft. Like the guy who painted The Girl with a Pearl Earring."

Steve starts to shift onto his back. You lay your arm across his chest and hold your weight off of him. He doesn't like that very much, pulling you in with one arm crossed over the small of your back, the other held high but loose. He brushes your cheek with the back of his hand, fingernails sliding over your skin. "Is painting something you like to do?"

Your heart melts at his genuine interest and his willingness to listen to something seemingly tangential. "I wish I could paint like they could. I would paint you."

"Yeah?" he asks, clarity brightening his face. His eyes are lined with pleasure.

"I would. The," you raise your hand to his face and start to trace each feature as you go, "bridge of your nose. The slopes here," his brow, the dip underneath, careful of his eye, "your cheekbones. Your lips. This line here, and this one. This one, too."

"Are you trying to tell me I have wrinkles?" he jokes.

"Only this one." You smooth the pad of your thumb between his eyebrows. "Though I think it's inevitable."

"Oh you do, do you?" he asks, abruptly loud. You're startled into giggling, dropping your hand over one of his eyes in your shock. He kisses your palm.

You fall silent. You take your hand to his jaw and press the invisible remains of his kiss to his cheek as you lean in.

"I think… I think I'd want to paint you. Just so people know," you murmur, touching your forehead to his, "that you were this handsome."

You wait for him to laugh and he doesn't. Like the trepidation of a sneeze that doesn't come, you feel off-kilter.

"Steve?"

He shushes you and kisses you for the hundredth time tonight. You could happily take another hundred, eyebrows pinching up at his silence.

He kisses you until you forget what you'd been saying, until the aching in your abdomen can't be ignored.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you announce regretfully.

"Yeah, okay. Want me to come with you?"

You laugh and climb off of him. His hand reaches for you as you go, his fingers catching yours until you pull away. You grab the damp towel and your sleep shirt off of the floor, slipping it on as you walk away. Steve acts like he's been grievously injured.

In the bathroom you clean up properly and pull on the spare underwear you'd had the foresight to bring. You stretch until you moan.

"You okay?" Steve calls.

"Stop listening to me in the bathroom, perv."

You can hear him stand. His footsteps in the bedroom. You shiver in the cool bathroom and smile at yourself really hard in the mirror.

When you return he's done the same as you, changed into new boxers. You stare at his thighs unabashed as he steps into his pyjama bottoms, yours rescued and folded on the end of the bed. Steve holds his hands out at your approach and tugs you towards him, not hugging but close. He pushes your shirt up to your ribs and you struggle to see what he's doing, craning your neck.

"What?" you ask.

He follows the impression of a stretch mark down your skin. "Did you feel that?" he asks genuinely.

You'd more than felt it. He pulls up the waistband of your panties thoughtlessly and traces another stretch mark. "You're pretty," he murmurs.

You hug him hard enough that he has to take a step back to avoid falling over. His hands stop their studying, braced at your waist and walking you backwards toward the bed. He pushes you down and you fall onto your back, clinging to him as he tries to pull away.

"Come on," he says, laughing, "I'm gonna get you something to drink. Let go."

"Whatever," you grumble.

Steve disappears downstairs and you sit up, eyes bright like you're seeing his room for the first time all over again. Fast Times at Ridgemont High looks to be nearing its end. You switch off the TV with a triumphant smile and move your attention to his dresser, where the cassette player you'd 'loaned' him sits. You're half hoping Van Halen II will be inside but it must still be in his car. Your disappointment ebbs quickly when you see what's really inside.

Steve has the good graces to blush when he returns. You've clicked play and sit with the tape deck in your lap, beaming. "American Pie?" you ask knowingly.

"It's a good album."

He presses a cold glass of water into your hands and you sip feverishly, best pleased when he sits beside you, thigh to your naked thigh.

"Softie."

He dips his fingers into his glass and flicks you. It feels good and you move back encouragingly. He indulges you, flicking cold water over your face and neck until you're finely misted as a flower in the morning dew.

The best part of American Pie starts to play. You gasp as Steve pulls the glass from your hand and sets them heavily on the dresser, hands wet with condensation as he sews your fingers together and pulls you up.

"What are you doing?" you ask curiously.

His shoulders move back. "Dancing?"

"You wanna dance?" you ask. Your legs are tired – his must be double.

"You're old enough," he says, encouraging your hands from side to side.

You were gonna give him what he wanted anyways, but that small smile toying over his pretty pink mouth spurs you on. You jump on toes and follow his lead.

-

Steve digs a short fingernail into the deep orange skin of what he thinks is a tangerine and watches as citrus spritzes into the air. It leaps from the fruit with every slice of rind he pulls away, and his hands quickly smell of it.

You lay in the grass with his sunglasses perched over your nose. Steve worries you might be sleeping, your smile demure and your arms still where they've crossed over your chest. Your cotton dress blankets the grass around your thighs, the hem waved as the thin edge of a peony petal.

"You better not be sleeping, Y/N," he warns.

You'd definitely been dozing. You hide it well, your hand hardly trembling as you stretch it across the grass towards him. "I wasn't."

"You know what happened last time."

"You're here to protect me."

He can't argue with that. Orange juice stains his fingers as he splits the segments apart, pulling white pith from the flesh until each slice is clean. He drops two into your hand. "For you."

"Thank you," you say, sounding genuinely excited. You sit up slow and your dress falls down enough to expose the top of your breast where Steve had hickied at a risk of excess the night before.

He moves across the grass until your knees knock together and presses his hand to your forehead. You're definitely hotter than you should be but not about to burst into flames. Steve ushers more tangerine into your hand and reaches for the grocery bag to grab your drink and put it in your lap. You gasp at the sudden cold and gasp again when he pulls the strap of your dress up your shoulder. There’s no hiding the worst one at the meeting of your neck and shoulder. Every time he looks at it, he blushes.

"Was I flashing?" you ask worriedly through a mouthful of fruit.

"Not really? But, uh, you know. Hickey."

"Ohhh," you say knowingly. "Well, that's your fault."

"Did I say otherwise? Have some water. We're gonna have to go soon, it's too hot."

"Steve."

"I'm serious."

"Let's just go buy one of those little hand crank fans."

"So I can crank it all day? No way."

"You'll dictate-"

"Dictate!"

"-my sunbathing but won't crank a little fan for me? What kind of relationship even is this?"

"Stop it," he says concisely.

Your lips pull into a self satisfied smile and you drink your drink like he'd asked you to. "What are we gonna do after?"

You'd woken Steve up early, before the sun had really come out, a vision and perfect and everything he'd known you would be in the mornings. Hands on his shoulders, you'd kissed him until he'd stirred, skipping kisses over his neck and chest.

"Ba-by," you'd whispered, dragging the last syllable, your voice croaky with tiredness, "let's go get breakfast."

Breakfast at a sticky diner that consisted of pancakes with too much syrup and whipped cream on strawberries. You'd dragged him into the fancy grocery store across the street and filled a basket with fancy drinks, pretzels, lip balm and a net of tangerines.

Now, hours later, sweaty from the outpour of ultra-hot sunlight and your company, Steve doesn't know what's left to do that could be any better than this.

He spread his legs and tucks a rogue lock of hair behind his ear. "What do you wanna do?"

You twist the cap back onto your drink and push onto your knees, grass crushed. "I don't know. Anything. I don't have anything to do tomorrow, so you can keep me as late as you want."

He doesn't feel bad when he says, "Could I keep your for the night again?"

You hesitate. He doubles down.

"I'll take you to your place and you can get some more clothes. And I'll make you something better than takeout, if you want," he promises, thinking of your home-cooked meals, the evident love poured into each one.

"No, it's not-" You smile at him, your eyes soft. "Of course you can keep me. But I'm not staying up to dance with you again." You yawn to drive the point home.

He breaks grass between his fingers. "Fine, no dancing."

You nod in agreement and take his shoulder into your hand, throwing your leg over his to straddle his thigh. You look comfortable despite the 'w' shape you're in, settling down with a harrumph of breath.

Steve tries not to think about the silk of your underwear against his leg, but of course he does. The pink colouring his cheeks isn't from the sun.

You look shy but happy as he grabs your hands, stroking your knuckles with his thumbs. "We can make something cool for the weather," you suggest lightly, the skirt of your dress ruffled by the breeze. "Sanwhiches. And something sweet for dessert 'cos we didn't have any yesterday."

"I don't know about you, but I think I had more than my fair share of dessert."

You drop the top of your head into his chest. "Sicko."

"A little. When it comes to you."

You start to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, humming something very quietly. The Waterboys or something like that, your lips pressed together tightly. You lashes flutter and you rub your cheek with your shoulder.

"What?" he asks.

"I'm just really happy," you confess.

What's he supposed to do? Not kiss you silly? He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you in.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut

[heizlut]

Zandik’s Whore

cw: rough sex, corruption kink(?)

tags: mean tutor!zandik, bimbo f!reader, corruption kink(?), one use of y/n (sorry 🥺), petnames: cockslut, slut, pet

nsfw under the cut

check out my masterlist here!

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Zandik sat quietly in the library completely engrossed in a book. He was trying to take his mind off the fact that he was being forced to tutor a ditzy girl like you. If he could’ve declined, he would’ve but he didn’t have a choice as he was in the top of his class and needed extra hours to add to his transcripts. You were on the verge of failing the one class you absolutely needed to pass in order to graduate. Zandik didn’t know what drove him more insane, your lack of brains or the skimpy little outfits you wore as you pranced around campus all bubbly and smiling brightly.

Soon enough, he hears the clicking of heels sound through the quiet library. He looks up to see you walking in wearing a pretty little sundress, your hair bouncing as you walked towards him with a bright smile on your face. He feels his pants tightening as he observes you but tries to push away those thoughts, offering you a cold glare.

Oblivious to his outward distaste for you, you approach him happily, “Hello! I was told you’re the one who’s going to be tutoring me. Zandik, right?” He fights the urge to roll his eyes at your cheerful attitude and closes his book, “Yes, that’s me.. unfortunately.. You must be y/n.” You nod and plop yourself down in the chair right next to him. As you do so, the subtle smell of your delicious perfume surrounds him and your bare leg brushes against his, making his cock begin to ache. “Thanks for agreeing to tutor me. All this information on ruin mechanics is really going over my head”, you pout, twirling your hair around your finger.

Seeing you pout like that only draws his attention to your plush, glossy lips. Zandik licks his own lips as he stares for a moment, then quickly clears his throat and returns to his usual cold demeanor, “It’s not like I really had a choice in the matter.. Anyways, this subject requires one to think critically. I can guide you through understanding the fundamentals, but it is ultimately up to you to retain the information.” You smile at him but then a dumb look crosses your features, “But I’m not good at retaining difficult information..”

Zandik blinks, “Well then I don’t exactly see how you’re going to pass if you can’t even retain the information I give you.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears and your bottom lip quivers slightly, “B-but if I don’t pass this subject t-then I won’t g-graduate.” Zandik lets out a disgruntled sigh, an idea forming in his head as he smirks internally, “Then I suppose I could provide you with some additional tutoring outside of our scheduled meeting times.” You give him a hopeful smile, placing your hand on his thigh, “You’d do that for me?” The feeling of your hand on his thigh almost makes him groan but he lets it get caught in his throat, “Of course, but this is only under the condition that you.. return the favor” As he says this, he reaches out and wipes the tears off your cheeks, resisting the urge to lick the saltiness of your tears off his thumb. Seeing you all pathetic in front of him, looking at him like he had hung the stars in the sky himself made him want to ruin you and that’s exactly what he’ll do.

A couple days later you find yourself in his dorm room, settled on his lap with his cock in your tight dripping pussy. Zandik has you cockwarming him, not bothering to thrust up into you unless you get the answer correct. His fingers toying with your cute little clit as he quizzes you on the composition of ruin mechanics. “And where does ruin technology come from?” Zandik asks as he continues to rub circles on your aching clit. “F-fontaine..?” You moan out. He slaps your clit harshly and growls lowly in your ear, “Wrong answer. Try again.” You cry out at the pleasurable sting, trying to move on his cock, “Mmph.. Please… Please fuck me.” His hand makes contact with your poor clit again, causing you to whimper, “Only good girls get fucked by my cock. Now try. Again. Where does ruin technology come from?” You bite your lip, desperate for some friction, and answer dumbly, “I-Inazuma?”

Zandik rolls his eyes and quickly pushes you onto your hands and knees. He pushes down on your back, causing you to arch so perfectly for him and he begins thrusting roughly into you, “What a brainless little slut. All you’re good for is taking my cock.” Your lewd moans fill the room as he pounds his thick cock in your soaked little cunt. Your eyes crossing and your tongue lolling out of your pretty little mouth. If only you knew just how incredibly dumb you looked right now. Zandik slaps your ass making you let out a pathetic whimper and he presses his chest to your back. His hot breath tickles your neck, “Once I graduate, I’m gonna make you into my pretty little assistant. My brainless little pet. All you’ll ever need to do is please me.”

You clench around his cock at his words, “Wanna be good f’you. Wanna be your good girl. Make you feel s’good…” Your words slurring together as all you can focus on is the way his thick cock hits all the right places. Zandik chuckles darkly as he bites down on your neck, releasing thick ropes of hot cum into your awaiting cunt, not caring that you haven’t cum just yet, “What a perfect cockslut you are already. All you’ll ever need is my cock, nothing else.” You whine as he pulls out of you and you feel his cum drip from your aching pussy, “Wanna cum, Zandik..” He grabs you by your hair, forcefully pulling you upright and making you look at him. You look so dazed and drunk from his cock, mouth hanging open slightly. Zandik clicks his tongue, “Now, now. Don’t be ungrateful. You’ll take what I give you.” He pinches your tongue between his fingers, pulling it to stick out slightly and he spits into your mouth then taps your cheek, “Now swallow.” You obediently swallow and he pats your head, “Good girl.”

He had you right where he wanted you, desperate and aching for his cock, his touch, his degrading words and praises. Such an obedient little thing. Why should he waste his time trying to fill your mind with information you couldn’t even comprehend when you could just be his little cockslut instead?

꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒷

a/n: hehe i like writing for dottore/zandik. if he becomes a playable character i’ll cum on the spot

#dottore smut #zandik smut #genshin smut #dottore x reader #dottore x reader smut #zandik x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact dottore #genshin impact zandik

[star-suh]

PERV STATION

Jeon Wonwoo x Male Reader

cw: top wonwoo, exhibitionism, underwear gagging, train fingering lol, bathroom sex, protected sex, hickeys, bit of possessiveness.

this was a request.

—

y/n set an encounter with a guy he met on a dating app and currently he was heading towards the train station, "y/n?" a cute but sexy guy asked "umm yes" he replied "i'm wonwoo nice to meet you. ready for today?" he asked extending his arm to y/n so he can stand up from the bench "yeah" says y/n blushing.

wonwoo has a thing for exhibitionism, while texting to y/n he talked about it and said he wanted to try it with y/n, the younger thought it would be an interesting experience and agreed to it. it was a busy day at the train station, it was full, making it the perfect opportunity for the pair of perverts, both standing near the door with y/n's ass rubbing against the hot bulge in wonwoo's pants. the older started to grope it and draw circles on y/n's clothed ass cheeks, he then slids a finger down y/n's ass touching his hole "it feels so hot" whispered wonwoo on y/n's ear making him moan "shush be quiet. we don't want them to find out you're a slut. right?" to which y/n shook his head to say no.

carefully to not get noticed wonwoo slid his hand inside y/n's pants rubbing circles with his long fingers in y/n's hole "it was a good idea for you to wear jockstraps. good boy" he praised y/n leaving little kisses on the flushed neck of the boy who was trying so hard to maintain composure. one finger, knuckles deep, inside y/n's warm hole exploring his insides all while a notorious bulge was forming on his pants "i can't hold it anymore" says a embarrassed y/n "i want it inside me right now", wonwoo takes his finger out of y/n's hole "don't worry man, at the next stop you're going to have all of this" he grabs y/n's hand and puts it on top of his big bulge.

at the next stop they both get off the train and go to the bathroom, "now let's get into the real deal" said wonwoo discarding y/n's pants and jockstrap and pulling his cock out of the zipper "put it for me please" he passes a condom to y/n which he begins to place with his mouth little by little, covering wonwoo's entire member with the latex. wonwoo introduces it all at once in the needy hole "fuckkk" whimpered y/n feeling the cock tip stimulating his prostate "so fucking big". wonwoo sat in the bathroom and let y/n ride him, loving the sight of y/n swallowing all his manhood like a pro "you're doing it so well. good boy" he said while caressing the bottom's back.

the older then stands up with y/n holding himself onto his shoulders, then he grabs the door's top part and started to fuck y/n against it "i'm gonna leave that hole gaping do you hear me?" y/n nodded feeling like he was in cloud 9 "please… just ruin me" begged y/n, that single sentence made wonwoo so horny and possessive that he started to leave hickeys on y/n's neck "everytime you see this marks you gonna remember this day. and remember the face of the only man who fucked you this good" sealing his words with a wet kiss exploring every crevice inside y/n's mouth with his tongue. wonwoo started to quicken his thrusts' pace chasing that known feeling "i want you to cum with me" he demanded and y/n obeyed starting to jerking off faster and harder "yes sir" he whimpered. finally wonwoo came inside the condom inside y/n's ass while the latter spurted white ropes of semen towards the bathroom door "fucking hell. this. was so hot" said wonwoo catching his breath while hugging y/n's back, "you're so sexy wonwoo" a tired y/n replied.

later both went back to wait for the train and went to their respective homes "hope you like that little gift i left down there" talked wonwoo kissing y/n's hand "trust me, i love it" he smiled… when wonwoo came inside y/n he pulls out and take the condom off, ties a knot on it and then inserts it back into y/n's ass as if it were a homemade plug… "i love carrying your seed" added y/n kissing wonwoo on the cheek and leaving for the train that just arrived.

#wonwoo x male reader #jeon wonwoo x male reader #seventeen x male reader #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut

[stevenssticks]

based on a combo of these asks from earlier in my inbox<3 thinkin of this james!

he would be pining after you for years!! and no matter how many other girls he’s fucked it’s never good enough bc it’s not you. he’s head over heels for you and also so sexually frustrated every time he sees you walking around in a pair of leather pants or a cute little skirt he has to run to the bathroom to get himself (and his dick) to calm down.

one day, after a show, he’s really wound up. he’s all frustrated and angry and he doesn’t really know why, he just knows that all he can really hear is his blood pumping in his ears and his fingers are twitching, curling into fists and then splaying back out again. sweet, adorable you, notice him sitting on his amp, and of course you come over to ask him what’s wrong.

“i dunno, sweetheart, i’m just in a mood today, i guess.” he hangs his head.

“there anything i can do to help you?” james immediately softens, eyes glancing up into yours. even all worked up and sweaty he looks so good, so beautiful.

“i uh… not really.” yes. there is something you can do to help him. let him fuck your brains out. but you’re his best friend. and he can’t ruin that with you as much as he yearns to do so, as hard as it’s getting to resist.

“how bout you come back to where i’m staying after you get all sorted? go shower, come over. i’ll have drinks?” james smiles at you, standing up and nodding. stretching. looks like a plan is a plan.

***

james gets one knock at the door before youre swinging it open, embarrassingly excited about seeing james again. your crush on him will doom you for eternity with how much you love him.

“i’ve got beer! your favorite too.”

james smiles at you, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek in which you wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. james lets out a little grunt that immediately leaves his face on fire as he feels you press against his crotch. he hopes you didn’t hear that.

you drag him over to the couch of your hotel room, it being a nice spacious little place. you crack open a beer and hand it to him, then opening and taking a swig of yours. james surveys you. glancing up and down at you from your tiny, tiny top that shows off your tits so nicely. to the little shorts you’re wearing that barely conceal anything. ones you wouldn’t dare wear out of the house but are rather comfortable to lounge in.

and that’s when james realizes he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be able to control himself tonight. you looking like this, all relaxed from the alcohol. he’s embarrassingly hard in his pants, and he crosses his legs as to not draw attention to himself. you’re leaning on him, talking away about miscellaneous things, james nodding along but not really listening. instead thinking of what it would feel like to fuck your tits, play with you til you’re crying. make you pay for all the years he’s spent wasted on other girls when he could been with you.

he gets snapped out of his thoughts when you literally do snap in his face.“james! hellooo? woah, you really are out of it today.”

he can’t take it anymore, he abruptly gets up, blabbering out how he’s gotta get out of here, how he doesn’t wanna do anything he regrets, and then you’re grabbing him by the waist and turning him around before he can reach the doorknob.

“what is it that’s bothering you this much?” you look him up and down, and then you spot the hardon in his jeans. and yeah, now you know what’s been bothering him so much. james groans when he realizes you realized, and covers his face with his hands.

“can i please just lea-“

“you want me to help you with that?” okay. woah. james is paralyzed, mouth moving but no sounds coming out, until you make a move for him, taking your hand and pushing on his hard on, rubbing in slow circles and james’ brain immediately blanks. and then he’s leaning down and kissing you. it’s sloppy, wet, and with too much teeth and tongue but james couldn’t give a fuck. he’s got you. he grabs onto your waist, hoisting you up and dragging you over to the bed, sheets still unmade from when you left in the early morning. james keeps kissing you, fucking your mouth with his tongue and groaning into you.

he only lets up when you push him away for air. whimpering out a little “please, james…” and then he’s kissing and sucking on your neck, tearing your clothes off and not even bothering to unbutton his shirt, just ripping it and hearing buttons go flying.

“you know how fucking crazy you make me” you whine as james cups a hand over your pussy, covered only by thin lacy underwear now. “gonna make you pay for all those nights i haven’t been able to touch you. lay back.” you do exactly as you ask, and james acts on those sinister thoughts from earlier, removing his underwear and straddling your stomach, feeling up your bare breasts. he opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue and letting spit dribble down to the valley between your tits, getting you all wet for him there. he grabs your breasts in his big hands, pushing them together and then he slides his cock in between the little space left, groaning as he starts to fuck your tits.

“holy fuck, you’re such a dream.. look at you. have barely touched you and you’re already gone. stick your tongue out.” you do as you’re told of course. and james slides his cock all the way up until the tip pushes on your tongue on the upstroke. you swirling around the pink tip every time you get a chance. james keeps moaning, saying the filthiest fucking things to you. his thrusts get sloppy.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum. keep your mouth open. gonna empty myself in between those pretty lips of yours.” james lets go of your tits to shuffle further up your body, jerking himself off quick and tight, before coming with a groan into your waiting mouth. you stay still, letting him do what he wants with you, pushing the droplets of cum that missed back into your mouth.

you’re mewling for stimulation. and james of course will give you anything that you ask. he shuffles down your body, face right in front of your pussy and blowing air on it. making you kick your legs out and squirm. he grabs your thighs to make you stay still, and then licks a stripe up your cunt. your squeal, closing your legs around his head now that he’s let go of him, which he lets you do enthusiastically. you grab at his hair and hump his face, whining and moaning and then screaming when james pushes two fingers into you at the same time he sucks your clit into his mouth.

you’re gonna cum so quick. james can feel it. he won’t let it happen. your moans get more high pitched, and when you start to pulse around him he pulls his fingers out quick. making your legs kick out again and slam down on the bed. crying at being denied. “james..! please!”

“not yet. told you i was gonna make you pay.” james is already hard again. he pushes his fingers back into you and immediately goes back to fucking you relentlessly with them. repeating the cycle of pulling away over and over again.

“tell me you’re sorry for making me wait.”

“fuck james.. ‘m sorry. didn’t know you liked me like that. wanted this f-for so long.. so sorry. wanted you so bad, i’m sssorry!”

“i’m not convinced.” james taunts. pulling out again. tears fall from your eyes. hands gripping the sheets of the bed hard, and you vaguely remember you’re in a hotel room and you’ve got neighbors, but the thought leaves your mind as quick as it came.

“please jamie… wanted it for so long i’m so sorry. i’m sorry. please… fuck me. want your cock so bad. wanna cum. i need you. i’m so ffucking s-sorry!” you’re full on sobbing, mascara running, hand thrown over your eyes as james’ fingers slow again inside you.

you get ready to be denied again, but instead immediately after you feel james’ fingers leave you, you feel something bigger in its place pushing at your entrance. james comes up to lean over you, resting on his forearms above you. pushing in without a word of warning and you wail again.

“ffuck… this pussy is so fucking tight.. oh god. gonna make me cum so quick. you want that? want me to fill you up?” you nod frantically when you realize he’s finally gonna let you get yours after being denied time and time again. bringing your legs up to wrap around his waist as he starts to nudge impossibly deep into you.

“shit.. yeah you do. first i want you to cream all over my cock. think you can do that for me? can feel you squeezing me. so close, aren’t you?”

you are. you really are. james leans down and gives you marks all up your neck, licking and sucking. grinding hard into you, hips pressed against each other. you bring a hand down to rub your clit, and it only takes a few tight circles before you’re gone. your other hand wraps up around his neck, pulling him down so he’s pressing you into the mattress.

“fuck.. there it is baby. that’s it.. f-feels so good. oh..” james keeps thrusting into you, faster, harder, fucking you through your orgasm so he can get his. he pushes your head to the side so he can kiss you, moaning into your mouth as you feel him spill into you with a groan before pulling away from your lips. “auh.. fuck! oh shit…” james leans back on his knees, hips still making tiny jolts in you. he pulls out almost all the way, leaving just the tip in and reaching down to jerk his cock, pushing out the last of his orgasm.

when he pulls out he groans at the sight of you leaking with his cum, reaching down to push it back into you. you whine, grabbing a pillow and holding it to your face. you’re exhausted, thoroughly worn out, but he doesn’t wanna let this be done yet. he’s already twitching again. you’re gonna be in for a rough night.

——

can y’all tell i’m ovulating.

#asks and replies #p’s thots(^ ^*) #metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #kirk hammett #cliff burton #lars ulrich #jason newsted

[cottoncandytomu]

Y’all can fight me on this but Modern!Ellie isn’t a player, she’s the gamer nerd who plays D&D, trolls online and is definitely a perv. 

18+ Content Below! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!! (Age in bio or pinned pls!!)

Tomu Notes~

NEW NERDY! PERVY! ELLIE X F!READER!!

Thought I'd do a little gremlin perv Ellie headcannon. !!Definitely some perv themes (ofc) mentions of sex and masturbation. Slight cursing, very minor references to depression/sadness!!

I'm close to (just about hehe) 50 followers y'all so THANK YOU OMFKDKJ. I've been enjoying writing for these two divine women and I'm thankful that you beauties are taking the time to read what I write. It means a lot hehe~ okay I'm done with the sappy shit, enjoy~

She absolutely has zero play when it comes to you. Always turning into a stuttering mess, then goes on to rant about her mistakes in her journal she keeps. Which is ALL about you, of course. 

You got yourself a fan, Ellie gives faaaaan behavior~ she stalks your socials and even follows you to class or around town. 

She grew up being your neighbor so she had unlimited access to seeing into your room across from hers, which is one of her favorite past times. Her hands would maybe kind of most certainly slip past her shorts while she watched you get undressed. Could you blame her though? You’re so irresistible. 

She basically creamed herself when you gave her a kiss on the cheek, as a thank you for helping you out on one of your assignments. 

Dina and Jesse made fun of her for weeks for it. 

She couldn’t help it, she’s had a crush on you ever since you were both little. The two of you were best playmates until you grew up and drifted apart. Belonging to very different social circles. You being the pretty popular socialite and her being the nerdy unseen introvert. 

You both grew apart, but you never treated her differently. Something Ellie was extremely grateful for, your friends would make fun of you for it. You didn’t care though, you two grew up together and you weren’t gonna let something as silly as a social status ruin that. 

It’s just unfortunate that when college rolled around you had to get with the most arrogant son of a bitch to ever walk the face of the earth (As Ellie tells her friends). 

Abby Anderson 

Ellie never liked Abby, never thought she was good enough for you. Yeah she may be captain of the hockey team, insanely attractive with a beautifully sculpted body and is extremely talented at just about anything she did but she was a piece of shit. 

Ellie had to endure the torture of Abby for years now. Abby knew how Ellie felt about you, Ellie thought she was good at hiding it, apparently not. 

Abby took a wicked enjoyment in making sure to shove your relationship down Ellie’s throat. Upping the PDA when she was around or showing up to your house where she’d make sure you’re obnoxiously loud in your bedroom, the window being wide open of course. Ellie never liked Abby and Abby never liked Ellie, finding her to be weird and gross. It definitely had nothing to do with their fathers being rivals.

But as much as Abby tortured Ellie it didn’t stop her from finding any means to be around you, watch you or think about you late at night. 

You never knew Ellie’s true feelings for you, seeing her as your childhood best friend was the farthest your relationship would ever come to be. 

It pained Ellie that that was all she was destined to be. 

She would be forever obsessed with the thought of you, dangling on a string and you’d be living your best life. Completely oblivious of what’s going on behind the scenes. 

So Ellie will just continue to click through your socials, saving each photo to her computer. Journal and draw you in her private time, keep an eye on you from afar. Watch as you enjoyed your life while she was stuck in her sorrow and daydreams of you. Stuffing her hand down her pants at the thought of you, alone and frustrated that you’re not there with her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hope you enjoyed it!! Don't think I'm gonna write any fics based off of this,, unless y'all want more!

Thank you for reading and as always I welcome any feedback!! Have a beautiful day/night loves!!

=^.^=~

#ellie williams #perv!ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams headcannons #ellie williams headcannon #ellie williams fic #ellie williams the last of us 2 #ellie the last of us 2 #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou2 #female reader #modern!ellie williams #my ellieberry #ellie williams smut

[hope-drunk]

ohmygodohmygod the way you write abby has me doing cartwheels. omg maybe abs can catch reader maybe being so needy and whiny over tp w abs like needy voice messages and reader ends up probs humping a pillow then abby returns idk its just a scenario ive been thinking of its so ily even if you dont write this remember to not push yourself too hard :)

i use the petname ‘kid’ in this i know that’s not for everyone so a warning 🫡

you had sent the audio message not caring what the outcome would be. a ten second long recording full of you whining abby's name. she had decided to go to a party instead of coming home to spend time with you, so you had decided that you were allowed to get your self off.

obviously, it was all to piss abby off. an elaborate plan that you had thought up the second she told you she was hanging out with manny and his friends after her practice.

the text pops up on abby’s phone. when she sees it’s a voice message, she excuses herself to the bathroom to listen to it.

abby locks the door behind her and turns the volume up before pressing play.

“shit,” she mumbles when she starts to listen; immediately turning the volume back down so that only she can hear.

what the fuck was that? she texts you.

she knows exactly what it is; knows all too well what you’re doing. right when she told you she saw the look in your eyes, that you were up to no good.

instead of sending her a text, you respond with another, longer, voice message.

“fuck me,” abby whispers, feeling arousal flood through her.

she didn’t want to leave the party, but she wanted to deal with you. she splashes cold water on her face and stares in the mirror. she hasn’t drank anything, although she was going to, so she was good to drive. should she let you ruin her fun? should she go home and deal with you right now?

abby hits play on the voice message again, and that seals the deal. she needs to fuck you, now. she says her goodbyes and everyone yells at her for leaving so soon, but she couldn’t care less.

she speeds home to you, practically jumping out of her car and into the apartment. she slams the door to let you know she’s home.

she walks into the bedroom and sees you, hips grinding onto a pillow. you’re holding one of your tits and softly grunting at the sensation.

“the fuck you think you’re doing, kid?”

“you don’t want— fuck— you don’t want to help me, so i’m doing it myself.” you say back to her.

abby walks over to you and easily lifts you off of the pillow, throwing it onto the floor. she pins you onto the bed. you try to bring your thighs together, whining at the lack of friction, but she pushes them apart with her knee. you let out a puff of air.

“think you can get off without me, huh? just because i wanna have fun with my friends?”

“no,”

“no? so why are you fucking doing it?”

you shrug and look away. you know she knows— for attention. that’s the answer.

“well, you’re fucking in for it now. since you wanted to come so bad, you’re gonna be doing it all night, sweetheart.”

your eyes widen. you’re about to protest, but abby’s fingers are already drawing small, tight circles on your sensitive clit, and you know you’re in for a long night.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson drabble #༉‧₊˚. 💌

[shuhwaa]

Karina | Praise [M]

Kinkmas 2023 - Day 3 Aespa Karina x gn!reader words: ~900 genre: smut (sub!Karina, lots of praise, a bit of teasing, fingering (idol receiving), reader is a little possessive) warnings: none

You can hear her sigh as she relaxes against your touch as soon as your lips come in contact with the skin on her neck. Observing her reflection in the mirror closely, you see her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips part to let out a small moan as you start nibbling on the spot - but only as an appetizer, so as not to leave a visible mark there. The sight of your girlfriend in that black dress that's wrapped around her shape so perfectly has been driving you crazy all day, and now that you're finally granted some time alone with her, you can't wait another second to make her yours.

"Jimin..." you whisper her name into her ear, hands resting on her waist. "You're so beautiful, do you know that?" She merely whines in response, face grimacing as she opens her eyes to look at you through the hotel room mirror right in front of her, and you can see her blush. You can't suppress a smirk at her shyness, and you leave a trail of kisses up the side of her throat, before you run your palms up and down her torso once.

"You look so pretty in that dress too..." you continue muttering praises at your girlfriend, feeling her melting a little more each time. "Too bad I'm about to tear it off." She gulps at your words, before replying,

"P-please be careful... I still need to take pictures in this..." You chuckle at her innocence, and then you spin her around in your hold, catching her by surprise as you smash your lips against hers in a fiery kiss. 

"Fine..." you mumble into her mouth, "I'll be careful." You reach to her back to unzip the dress in a haste, and you muster all of your patience as you take it off her, leaving her in only her underwear when you push her onto the bed. You get on top of her quickly, and once again you find a layer of pink dusted onto her face, shining through her makeup.

"I'll hold back now," you say as you lower yourself to scatter kisses all over her chest and collarbones. "But I'm going to ruin you later." Her whimpering at your words, you don't hesitate to let your fingertips dance down her stomach, starting to tease her through her panties.

"Y/N..." she weakly calls out your name, reaching out to wrap her arms around your shoulders. 

"What is it, my pretty girl?" you ask.

"M-more..." You chuckle at her request. 

"What? Does my pretty girl want my fingers inside her?"

"Yes..." Jimin shoots you a pleading look that you could've resisted had you had the time to tease her properly. But you know she has to be back out there, ready to continue her work in about 15 minutes, and you swear you can't take it until she gets off work to have her moaning your name as she comes undone underneath you. And so you give in, planting a gentle kiss onto her forehead before connecting your lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss.

"I'll make you cum so good..." you mutter as you push the fabric of her underwear aside and she shivers when you slide a finger inside. "So wet..." you comment.

"Mhm," she can't but agree as she squeezes her eyes shut, biting down on her lower lip to avoid making any sudden sounds.

"Can't wait until I get to have you for the rest of the night..." You add another finger, drawing a muffled moan out of her, and you grin at her when she bucks her hips into your touch. "So needy..." She lets out another desperate sound and you wonder whether she'd manage to keep quiet all the way through. Still you keep pumping your fingers in and out of her, gradually increasing the speed as you watch her desperately fighting to keep her composure.

"You're so cute," you mutter at the sight. "Doing so well for me..." Once again Jimin whines at your praise, and when you can tell she's coming close, you press your thumb against her clit, rubbing circles on it. Her body reacts immediately, now trembling underneath you as you simply watch the way her face distorts from pleasure. "So beautiful..." you whisper. "And I'm the only one who can see how you beautiful you are when I make you cum." She lets out another small whine in agreement, her hips starting to stutter as she keeps moving them along with you fingering her. Just a few more repetitions of your movements, and she's hit by her orgasm, doing everything in her might to keep quiet as you can feel her violently clenching around your fingers.

You pull out of her carefully, and as you wait for her to catch her breath, you place a few soft kisses into her neck and onto her cheeks. Wrapping your arms around her loosely to hold her close, you eventually say,

"Such a good girl for keeping quiet... now I really can't wait until we're home and I can hear your voice properly..."

#aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa scenarios #aespa x fem reader #karina smut #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #aespa drabbles #aespa imagines #girl group x reader #girl group smut #gg smut #smut

[bunnyscone]

ok so a male yandere vampire who kidnaps fem reader but is very patient with her. he doesnt force her to do anything and lets her set the pace... until she starts her period. he just keeps eating her out over and over, apologizing the whole time bc "he just cant help himself"

Hiiiii!! thank you for your ask!! I love vampires!! Especially yandere ones! I plan on doing a little ramble/fic or whatever you wanna call it on this :) I kinda ran off with the idea, lol, but this was fun to write♡♡

Male! Vampire! OC x Female! Reader!

kinks: Hematolagnia, Menophilia, Dub-con(?), Praise Kink(?), Pussy and Cunt (mentions). Female Reader! (MxF)

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you are 18+ and are fine with reading dark/sensitive content. (Don't like? Don't read.)

OC: Vincent (Male! Vampire!) - Words: 313 - Proofread? Nope :)

"I... I'm sorry my dear..."

The soft whisper of his voice comes beneath you, the feeling of his heavy breath hitting your clothed cunt. His nails dig into you as he draws himself closer, his cheek resting against your thigh. A soft whimper escapes his throat as he lets out a heavy breath, mumbling out to you with a groan, "You... you just smell so good, my dear..."

You let out a squeak as he plants a heavy kiss on your inner thigh, nibbling at the soft skin. "Please... just let me have a taste...?" He mumbles out again, his tongue pressed up against your clothed clit, his thick salvia pooling and soaking the already bloody mess your aching cunt made.

It's been weeks since Vincent had actually last touched you, too nervous and worried about scaring you off and ruining his chance with you. Yet suddenly now that your cycle has begun, you're all he seems to want to grasp and hold, no longer caring about how patient he might need to be around you. Your touch-starved body seems to agree with his grasping and holding, leaning towards him unknowingly each time he moves closer, holding you to him.

"A... Alright..." You mumble out, shakingly nodding your head as you slowly grind your cunt against his face, the feeling of it leading you to feel even more needy. He lets out an excited whimper, pulling you even closer as he frees your cunt, moaning softly at the sight of the bloodied and aching hole. His hand comes up, his fingers pushing open your labia as he eagerly laps up into you.

You whimper and clench around his tongue, your cunt fluttering around him as he drinks up more of your blood and juices, his thumb coming up to circle and rub your clit as you moan.

"Good girl... You taste so good..."

mwahhhhhhhhhhhhh love youuuuuuuuu ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა♡♡♡♡

#female reader #yandere #🧸scones.oc #🧸scones.request #yandere smut #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you

[sprout-fics]

Tag, You're It: Part Three

(Poly 141 x F! Reader) 18+

Masterlist

Rating: Explicit, 18+ WordCount: 4.3k Tags: F! Reader, Minors DNI, Dirty talk, Consent checks, Voyeurism, Blowjobs, Deep throating, Praise kink, Restraints, Blindfolds, Boot riding, Aftercare Warnings: Nothing except filthy rotten smut A/N: A bit of a shorter chapter, hopefully the content itself makes up for the length ;w;

Where Gaz got the blindfold, you have no idea. Where he got the idea of the blindfold, however, is crystal clear.

Price.

When Gaz had draped the fabric across your eyes it had shielded the already dark world around you into nothingness, had forced you to rely entirely on his touch as he guided you on wobbly legs to an unknown destination. The sergeant had dragged you off for what seemed like miles, forcing your stumbling feet ahead of him. All the while his voice had been harsh, playing the villain. Yet his touch was gentle, thumb tracing the arch of your nape under his gloved thumb as he directed you. The tenderness of him despite his orders is a balm against your fluttering heartbeat, nerves alight with the remnants of your ruined climax lurk in your core, tugging taut at your muscles, wanting more, more. 

You had bitched at him of course, playing along but making your unhappiness clearly known at not being allowed to finish on his hand. Infuriatingly, Gaz had barely answered you, offering mocking, teasing little hums and sweet, pitying endearments at your complaints before at last opening a door somewhere ahead of you and escorting you inside.

Now, he’s gone, and in his place you hear footsteps pace around you, circling you, drawing ever closer like they’re circling the drain with you at the center. The sound shudders through you, sets your breath catching in your chest where you kneel on the concrete floor, hands zip-tied behind your back, the world dark and enigmatic around you. You listen to the slow, steady pace of boots against concrete, as if the person circling you wants you to hear them, drawing out your anxiety in the face of blindness.

At last, they stop behind you, the toes barely brushing against your own shoes.

“Should have known better than to run, sweetheart.” Price gravels above you, behind you. You jolt at the sound of his voice, a wealth of arousal pooling low in your stomach at the mere sound of him. He doesn’t touch you, not yet, watches you stay entirely still for him. Patient, waiting, deferent to his command. “I can’t have little mice running around my base.”

His hand settles on your nape, and you almost want to arch into the touch, sigh and let your head fall back into the familiar grasp of his palm. The warmth of it feels almost sharp against your cold skin, and it only electrifies your pulse in wanting, needed anticipation. Yet you hold back, restrain yourself to the part of the victim, of a hostage helpless to his whims. Instead, you offer a little whimper as his hand curls with just a small amount of pressure into the soft flesh there.

“Shhh.” He gentles you, and the hand goes soft again. The air in your chest feels unbalanced, confused, and in this blindness you don’t know what to expect of him. Out of all your lovers, Price has always been the best at masking his intentions, catapulting you into heart hammering insecurity as he conceals his next move. He lets you wait it out, shift expectantly until the strings inside you snap, launch you forward into him with a desperate fervor. 

Now, however, you refuse to go down so easily. 

“Took you a while to catch me, cap.” You quip back, ignoring the slight waver in your voice torn between excitement and anxiety. “Not scared of mice, are you?”

You think you hear a snicker somewhere beyond the two of you, but the sound is muffled by the low, threatening rumble of displeasure from the man above you. You lean your head forward when he presses his thumb against your nape, unable to bite back a smile at your small victory of irritating him with your bratty comeback.

“Cheeky.” He observes, and once more his tone is unbothered, stoic in a way that simmers low in your stomach. “Do you think we’d let you run around so much if we knew you’d be hard to capture?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the pressure from Price’s grip warns you otherwise. His voice dips to a low, grinding tremor that you feel settle inside you with the promise of ruin.

“Unfortunately for you love, there’s no escape anymore.”

You shudder.

There’s a quiet pause from Price then as he releases you, and you feel rather than hear him circle around you to stand at your front. An ungloved hand catches your chin and tilts you up as if you can somehow meet his eyes. 

“Color, love.” He asks then, the soft murmur of his voice suddenly gentle. 

“Green.” You offer after a beat, tender in your response, and you feel your reward in the form of Price’s knuckles grazing your cheek affectionately before he pulls away.

“I noticed you sassing my sergeant on the way here.” Price tells you darkly, and you straighten a little at that, at his implications at your misbehavior. You’ve played this game before, know exactly where it leads, and the promise of what lays ahead thrums low in your stomach, feeding the distant flame of your previously denied orgasm. Price pauses long enough to let his words sink in, to let your heartbeat stammer higher in your chest with anticipation.

“The one thing I cannot tolerate is insubordination.”

You choke back a gasp at the sudden downturn of his voice, the tone you’ve only ever heard during interrogations, in the realm of his cold, restrained fury. It’s the same tone that makes you shift where you stand in observance, feeling a forbidden and vicious desire murmur through you, a reminder of this man’s brutality, the force of his retribution. You can’t stem the arousal from hearing him during those moments, and now that it’s turned on you, with his form standing above you, with you helpless at his feet, makes a fresh rush of wetness coat your thighs with your desire. 

There’s a smile that tugs at your lips then, and you nearly tremble in excitement, teething your lip as your retort bites against your tongue. Price notices, cups the sides of your face in his grasp to look down at the mischievous smirk that he sees there. 

“Something to say, soldier?” He asks idly, and you hear a familiar tone of bemusement on his words. 

“Permission to speak, sir?” You ask, tone a little mocking, and Price snorts a huff of laughter.

“Granted.”

You wet your lips, try to imagine the sight of Price’s eyes tracing the motion. You wish you could see him, could touch him, but there’s a certain thrill in this, of being bound, blinded, helpless at his feet. 

“I always knew you liked having your subordinates under you.” You breathe at last, and in Price’s silence you hear a muffled sound behind him, a choked little noise that you can’t fully discern from the flutter of your own heartbeat.

Then, the sound of his zipper, and gods above you feel your mouth water at the sound, all but leaning forward and ready for him. Yet Price only chuckles down at you with your enthusiasm,  the grasp on your face tightening, keeping you exactly where you are even as you try to squirm forward, mouth dropping open expectantly. 

“Look at you.” He chuffs, and you feel your thighs clench at the sound of his hands stroking down his cock, remaining tantalizing and just out of reach. “I was going to tell you to find a better use for that mouth, love, but it looks like you read my mind. Needy.”

Yes. Yes. You think deliriously, trying to scoot forward, straining for it shamelessly, only for Price’s hand to slide to your nape, holding you back. The blindfold against your vision cloaks the world in darkness, fires your senses into a rapid overdrive that leaves you wanting, desperate, a little whine forming on your lips as he refuses to allow you to taste him. 

“Beg.”

The order pulses through you like a gunshot, setting every nerve ending alight with arousal until it simmers downwards, blood rushing south and settling at the aching apex of your thighs. It doesn’t take long for you to comply, feeling need bubble up acutely inside you until it escapes as the form of a plea. 

“Please.”

It’s shameful, the way you fold instantly. You want to put up more of a fight, to try and play the role assigned to you, but the reward of your efforts is so very close, the nearness of it leeching the struggle from your limbs as you tilt your head up towards him, head lolling limply into his arm. 

 “Please, captain.” You try again when he doesn’t respond. “Let me suck you off. I-I want it.”

Price huffs at you, the sound almost in disbelief with how quickly you caved. Not that you could help it, not with him, not with any of them. 

“Alright love.” He returns gently, and you shiver, arch forward as the tip of him brushes against your parted lips. “Remember, no teeth.”

You don’t need to be reminded, and when Price pushes past your lips you groan around him, feel your thighs clench in a desperate attempt to stem the untamable lust that dampens your underwear. The taste of Price is familiar, good, the weight of him heavy on your tongue and you moan, the sound reverberating around the girth of him. Price bites down on a little noise, never one to be loud, only offering growling little grunts and gasps as he delivers his desire onto you.

“That’s it.” Price sighs, his fingers kneading into the flesh of your nape, using the leverage to draw you back, pressing you forward with a low, lazy roll of his hips. He’s enjoying the sensation of you, his length only half hard but rising to mast quickly in the wet, slick slide of your mouth. “Good girl.”

You make a little noise at that, a pleased little hum at the way he offers you praise, happy and content, right where you need to be. Here, at his feet, helpless to the whims of his lust, knowing your captain will take care of you, will use you as he sees fit, will have you whimpering and teary eyed by the end of this as you shake and tremble against him. 

He’s a little salty, a little briny on your tongue, but the weight of him, the length and breadth of his cock feels right, like it’s meant to belong here as he idly thrusts into your mouth. He’s different than Ghost. Where Ghost fucks you hard enough to feel him knock against the back of your throat, Price is thick, heavy in your mouth, spreading you wide enough that you have to crane your jaw to accommodate him. You do so glady, senses a little hazy as you moan, lose yourself in the feeling of his pelvis pushing up against your jaw. 

“Made for this, weren’t you?” He chuffs down at you, amused at the way you fall apart for him so readily. “Proper little toy for us, aren’t you love?”

You nod around him, you can’t help it. There’s a sinfully sweet addiction to the girth of him pushing past your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head as you feel precum bead on your tongue. It’s just as much the feeling of pleasuring him as it is getting lost in it, in the familiar slide of his cock on your tongue, pressing down so your mouth falls open in a wanton little moan. 

Price curses at that, and with little hesitation he uses the firm, scruffing grasp on your neck to push you down, his hips stilling with considerable restraint until he pushes the tip of him all the way to the back of your throat. You breathe in, holding your breath at the fullness of him blocks the air you want to suck in as a wet little gasp. He twitches in your throat, and you let him, listening to the ragged inhale he draws in, that releases as a firm, steadying sigh. You keep still for him, feeling the weight of his hand on your nape, fingers just a little bruising in a way that feels good.

Eventually you feel your heart race a little higher, feel a distant touch of panic fizzle in your veins. You try to draw back, but Price’s hand keeps you exactly where you are. There’s a growl that builds in his throat as you instinctively swallow around him, throat tightening around the head of his cock. When he doesn’t let up you begin to squirm, eyes beading with tears of exertion. Yet all price offers down at you is a single, devastating command. 

“Stay.”

You loosen instinctively, shoulders dropping, head nodding just a little forward, as far as Price’s grip on your will allow. The command is final, and your time spent under Price’s authority has you instantly accepting it, growing limp in his grasp as he holds his cock in your throat with a low, breathy groan. 

A wet little gasp escapes you as Price finally pulls out, saliva dribbling down your chin as you tilt your head back into his hand, finding comfort in the familiar press of his palm. It takes you only a few moments to catch your breath before you blindly try to press forward again, feeling the leaking head of Price’s cock graze against your bottom lip before it’s pulled away. When you loose a little whine of protest Price merely chuckles down at you, a little dark, but entirely fond.

“Never satisfied, are you?” He asks teasingly, and before you can swallow and summon a reply Price shifts so that the toe of his boot presses between the apex of your folded legs. You suck in a sharp breath, automatically clenching at even the slightest pressure against your core, face warming and brow knotting as you experimentally rock down onto Price’s shoe. 

Pleasure blooms outward from your core, hips shivering at the dull, firm pressure that grazes against your clit through your pants. A shuddering, gasping noise falls from you, and with your mouth open Price gently presses himself back inside, the hand on your nape gently smoothing a thumb against your jaw. 

“Go on then.” He offers, and oh, you can hear the strain in his voice, hear the little sound he makes when you circle his slit with your tongue. It’s delicious in the best of ways, and the temptation of coaxing further noises from your captain has you sinking down on him with renewed effort, relishing the wet slide of his shaft as it glides across your tongue.

You want to touch him, want to press your hands against his thighs, circle your fist around his cock and listen to the sound he makes as you slowly drag your grip upwards. The memory of the softness of Price’s stomach, the strong angle of his hips is enough to make your eyes roll back a little under your blindfold, ecstasy blooming in brilliant colors against your senses.

Yet then Price leans just a touch forward, raising his boot just an inch to press more tightly against your clit. He pulls back at the exact second that your head drops forward, your voice strained and breathless.

“F-fuck, Price-” You manage with a little shudder and roll of your hips.

“Needy little darling.” He coos, and you flush warmly at that, at both the tender praise and the slightly mocking undertone that makes you realize just how perverted this is, trying to get off on the barest hint of pressure against your dripping, empty pussy. 

You decide to be cheeky, raising up on your knees to avoid him. Price only chuckles in amusement and shifts his hand so it presses on your shoulder with a firm “Down.” That has you lowering back onto his boot. You gasp at the sudden pressure, and before you can stop yourself you breathe a wrecked, shocked little curse at the tremble that murmurs outward from your core. 

“That’s it.” Price encourages as you buck forward on reflex with a choked little groan, sinking down and shamelessly rubbing your crotch onto the firm surface of his boot. It makes your cheeks burn with a touch of humiliation, one that’s softened by the steadying grip of your captain above you. Besides, the low burn of your previously denied orgasm still flickers inside you, licking at your insides and setting your veins into a red hot arousal that seeks tinder to fuel your need. 

The friction of Price’s boot soothes the lingering ache in you, twists it into a coiling, unsatisfied desire that has you groan breathlessly around his cock. You make a point to arch your spine, the dip of it a pretty curve that has your captain huff down a little sound of approval in between his grunts as he rocks into your mouth. 

“Gorgeous when you’re desperate, love.” He rumbles down at you and you moan at that, imagining the sight you must make. Blindfolded, arms folded behind you, hips bucking down onto the toe of Price’s boot while you groan and mewl around the heaviness of his cock on your tongue. It’s lewd at best, completely depraved at worst, and the thought alone has your hips jolt as pleasure laces sharply up the base of your spine. 

You’ve given up on the shame of trying to get off like this, too desperate to care, just like Price says. Your need curls in a deep, tightening band of pleasure low beneath your belly, and with each rock of your hips you feel it tightening further still, the distant but imminent promise of your release beckoning to you from afar. 

You’re so blinded by euphoria you nearly forget about Price’s cock, only for him to once more press you all the way down and lodge himself in your throat. You swallow reflexively around him, and Price groans deeply, his smoky voice curling and whispering across your senses. You want to drown yourself in it, feel the cloud of his deep tenor engulf you, swallow you whole. You know the sound of him blind, know all of them by touch alone, and the distant but hypnotizing memory of being surrounded on all sides by these men is enough to make your voice rise a little, cry out in a mixture of want and pleasure.

“Shh, easy.” Price offers as you shudder, his knuckles graze across your wet cheek. When did you start crying? You feel warm tears of pleasure welling and wetting the blindfold across your eyes, flushing your face further as you lose yourself between the sensation of Price’s warm cock rocking past your lips, and the writhing buck of your hips down onto his boot, chasing release. 

“That’s it, take what you need. You’ve been so good for us.” Price murmurs breathlessly, voice strained but deeply aroused, his hips beginning to pick up speed as he pursues his own climax. You still, allowing him to fuck into your mouth the way he wants, craning upwards so he grazes the roof of your mouth. Price approves with a sharp grunt, and you feel his cock twitch against your tongue.

“Fuck.” He snarls sharply, hips stuttering for a moment before resuming their rhythm. One hand cups your skull, fingers pressing a touch harshly against your flesh to keep you in place as Price uses you to creep slowly up on the edge of his release. “Bloody gorgeous, darling.”

Your cunt throbs at his words, clenching tightly as you shift, angle yourself to rub your clit directly onto the toe of his boot. The groan you let out is wet, saliva and precum pooling in your mouth around his cock. The world narrows down to only the sensation of Price rocking into you, and you rocking onto him as you fuck yourself onto his boot. 

Yet there’s another sound beyond your and Price’s joint groans and the slick squelch as he presses himself forward. If you listen, you can hear another noise from off to your right- a low, stifled grunt paired with the sounds of wet strokes of a fist. 

You’re being watched.

Gaz, Soap, Ghost, they’re all observing the proceedings quietly from just beyond you both, aroused at the display and seeing to their own pleasure with long, firm strokes on their cocks. Masturbating to the shameless sight of you fucking yourself down onto Price’s shoe, groaning openly as he thrusts towards the back of your throat, seeing you helpless at his feet and wanting more.

Of course. Why blindfold you otherwise? You’d get distracted by the sight of them, the glint of Soap’s keen, bright stare- the smug, self-pleasured smile of Gaz seeing you delivered to his captain- and Ghost, with the bruising intensity of his stare, no doubt with his arms crossed but the tent of his pants bulging. Waiting.

The idea of the boys just waiting for their captain to finish having his way with you, fucking into your mouth with quick, firm, shallow thrusts, and waiting to have their seconds is enough to make you bite out a curse. Pleasure unfolds brightly at your core, the tightening, coiling band of bliss threatening to snap you in two with its intensity.

Price seems to notice how close you are by the almost frantic grind of your hips down onto him, his hand curling with an almost bruising grip at the base of your skull. 

“Going to cum, sergeant?” He grits out, and you whine, not able to nod around him with the way he has you angled. Yet the sound is enough, because Price releases a low groan and echoes down at you a single, shattering command. 

“Cum.”

Price pulls back at the exact second you come undone, feeling ecstasy whiplash against your coiled muscles and race along the underside of your skin. Your orgasm is sudden, hard, making you fold and clench in on yourself, sinking impossibly further down onto Price’s boot with a shuddering series of moans and whimpers. Your cunt clenches helplessly around nothing, empty but no less doused in the blissful satisfaction of your long denied climax. The aftershocks ripple down your form, collecting in the thrumming, pulsing heat of your core as you desperately try to find your breath. 

“Bloody hell.” A voice mutters quietly beyond your blinded vision. Soap.

When you finally catch your breath you raise your head, tilting forward towards Price so you can finish the task set out before you, his own orgasm unfinished. Yet instead all you find is Price's grip on you vanishing completely, removing his boot from the inside of your thighs. Instantly, you begin reeling without his touch, still a touch overwhelmed, a little noise of confusion dragging in your chest. 

It doesn’t take long for hands to appear at your face, gently tugging the blindfold off and revealing the dim lighting of the empty interrogation room. You blink at the sudden brightness, limbs heavy and skin too warm. It’s only once your vision clears that the sight of Price flickers into view above, his expression gentle, but the lust in his eyes scarcely concealed. 

“Broken?” He asks in that gruff but concerned way of his, hands cupping either side of your face as boots begin to pad over towards you both. When your eyes flicker down to Price’s cock, you see it still standing proudly. Yet Price seems to pay it no mind, focusing instead on you. 

“Only in the best of ways.” You reply, voice a little hoarse but still pleased as you smile at him. Price smiles back, amusement clear in his stare before it shifts, nods to someone behind you. You nearly flinch at the sound of a blade getting flicked open, but don’t have time to question it before the ties around your wrists are cut and discarded. You sigh in relief, roll your shoulders and wince at the soreness there. 

You blink as you’re tugged away from Price’s grasp, hauled backwards until your ass meets the floor and your back presses against a solid chest. Arms descend around to your front, tucking you further into a form that smells faintly like explosive powder and sweat. 

“Don’t get greedy, Soap.” Ghost admonishes lightly as the sergeant’s legs splay around you. Yet Soap only offers an offended little grunt in return, allowing you to sink into the comforting warmth of him.

You relax into the safety of his arms, knowing for now that this chase is finally at its end, that all that is left is the blissful indulgence of the men around you as they bring you down from the exhilarating adrenaline rush of your capture. 

So you sigh, lean onto Soap, accept the water bottle Gaz passes to you, gulping it down and washing away the taste of Price on your tongue. 

It’s Ghost who gently nudges you, forcing you to crane your head up towards his form towering over yours, backlit by the dim overhead light above. 

“How copy?” He asks redundantly, as if he somehow doesn’t trust your answer to Price. You know it’s just to assuage his own nerves, make sure that the four of them haven’t exerted you too far. 

“Right as rain, LT.” You answer back, leaning into his gloved hand when he offers it. You swear you can feel the sigh of him there, relieved but muted, entirely affectionate. 

There’s silence for a few moments, one that’s filled only with your even breathing and the dull thump of your calming heartbeat. It’s broken only when Gaz drawls out a low, loaded question. 

“Soooo….” He offers, and when you look at him his eyes sparkle with a combination of mischief and rampant desire. 

“Round two?”

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#captain price x reader #john price x reader #poly 141 x reader #poly 141 #cod mw2 #cod mw22 #x reader #reader insert #fic: tag you're it… See all #Honestly dislike the quality of this chap!! Feels too bland #Hopefully folks enjoy anyways

[boba-beom]

stay still | CHOI BEOMGYU NSFW

p: beomgyu x fem!reader | g: smut | w: fwb!beomgyu a tease, heavy petting, fingering (f!receiving), marking, degradation; (slut, whore), pet names; (baby), smut with plot, possessive but also annoying gyu 🙄, ruined orgasm rip, not proofread, lmk if I missed anything! | wc: 1k | summary: while visiting beomgyu his friends and family just so happens to stay over too. instead of sleeping in the guest room you end up sleeping in his bed where you talk to him about your crush on one of his friends and wanting to stop your fwb agreement, but he tries to make you think otherwise. | a/n: guys,, this beomgyu is tainting all thoughts in my head omfg

!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

continue under the cut ❤︎

“didn’t we agree to stay quiet? hm?” beomgyu’s low whisper raised hairs along your neck. the deep rasps in his throat never failed to make your eyes subtly roll to the back of your head. or was that because he’s been teasing you since he joined you in his bed. here you are back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling with beomgyu laying on his side.

“gyu- fuck. can you just hear me out for a- a second?” you struggle to face him after having your eyes shut a little too tight, causing you to see luminescent colours whenever you tried to blink your eyes open.

he stops his ministrations of rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves, knowing that your satin shorts have a dark patch spreading across the material. he has your one leg trapped between his thighs and the other spread out a little.

beomgyu knows how to get you shaking, he knows what makes you crave for more and how to tease you. but for some reason he just doesn’t seem to understand the fact that you may or may not have a small crush on his friend whom you’ve only met twice.

“what do you even have to say? that you want to drop me for yeonjun? he has many friends with benefits to go to, what makes you think he’ll drop them for a filthy whore like you?” he sighs, adjusting his position beside you, now resting on his arm and looking at you. his finger grazing strokes up and down your thigh hidden under the blanket you were both sharing.

“why are you being such a dick right now?" you stare right at him with your hand grabbing his wrist, stopping him at a halt from the embarrassingly delicious tingly sensation against your skin.

"me? baby, I'm satisfied with you. but it's starting to sound like you've only been hanging out with me often just to coincidentally see yeonjun too." he air quotes with his other hand.

"maybe I am? I think I like this guy, beomgyu. you're just selfish." you huff, rolling your eyes. he was beginning to irritate you.

"I'm selfish?" his fingers trail closer to your clothed core, slowly pushing the satin material aside. "no panties, as expected. it's very much whore behaviour if you tell me."

you inhale a sharp gasp as he prods at your sopping hole, gathering the slick between his middle and ring finger and gliding it up to circle lightly around your nub.

"see, my whore." he hums closer to your neck, his hot breath fanning against your skin. "you like that hm? is that why you're in my bed and not in the guest room with yeonjun?" he smirks as he watches your chest heave just under his field of vision, noticing the way your nipples start to perk up.

"I- I wanted to confide in you," another sharp gasp intrudes your sentence as his fingers prods your entrance and gradually sinking his fingers inside you. "but- oh fuck- you don't care. you're.. so fucking stupid." you manage to mutter.

beomgyu draws out a hum as he leans forward to leave kisses and nibbles along your neck while his fingers work inside your clenching cunt. the familiar feeling of his fingers curling up just how you like it.

"I'll fuck you stupid with my fingers, now stay quiet."

he sucks at the exposed area of your neck as you turn your head away in attempt of burying it in the pillow. his fingers don't stop plunging in deep, picking up the speed in contrast of his slow licks after he sucks at your skin. a short-high pitched squeal leaves your lips as he speeds up.

"did you want yeonjun listening in? he possibly could. you think he knows how much of a slut you are for me?" beomgyu continues his actions, now littering kisses along your chest and clothed nipples.

"beomgyu, I'm-" you swallow back a moan but your shaky breath and heavy heaving doesn't stop. neither does beomgyu's fingers, adding his thumb to simultaneously rub your clit while his two digits are non-stop pumping in your clenching cunt.

"tell me you want me. not yeonjun. just me. and I'll let you cum." he whispers against your chest, licking your perked nipples through your satin cami top.

"okayokayokay, I want you beomgyu. so fucking bad. please make me cum like you always do." you begin to squirm under his body in attempt to reach your climax quicker.

"stay still, yn. you don't want yeonjun anymore, do you? just me, right?" beomgyu returns to kissing your jaw as you sigh in his ear, murmuring countless 'yes's, borderline whining.

"mmm, gyu, m'gonna hah-" your ears are met with beomgyu's low chuckles, fascinated by the way your body won't stop squirming.

"choi fucking beomgyu," you exhale. "why the fuck did you stop?! I was so close." you almost sob from the loss of your orgasm, almost reaching that state of euphoria that only beomgyu's been able to give you for god knows how long you've been friends with benefits.

"sorry baby, it's late and I didn't want to wake anyone up. you were starting to get a little too loud." he whispers the last sentence, shooting you a wink with his stupid grin crawling on his lips. "at least now I know you want me and not yeonjun. you're mine."

he pulls his fingers out of you, not without a few twitches from you, and sticks his soiled fingers into his mouth, taking them out with an exaggerated pop and satisfied groan.

"sweet as always." he winks at you and you scoff at his ridiculous gestures.

beomgyu wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer to him as he rests his head on your boobs, which he likes to call his personal twin pillows. in no time he was silent with light breaths as you instinctively run your fingers through his outgrown hair.

"gyu, you're so annoying. but at least I know that you want me too." you smile to yourself, falling asleep with him.

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[chrissshub]

THE SHY GIRL TREAMENT

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ PAIRINGS: Manjiro “Mikey” Sano, Takashi Mitsuya, Chifuyu Matsuno x Shy!Fem reader

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ SYNOPSIS: How they fuck their shy girlfriends

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ CW: established relationship(s), teasing, fingering, clit play, oral (f & m receiving), praise heavy, squirting, implied throatpie

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ XOXO, CHRIS: This comes as a request and i wanted to expand on it :)). Sorry if it’s messy or whatever, I haven’t written multi-character posts in a minute. Enjoy!

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ MIKEY

When it comes to trying to ease your nerves, Mikey’s the teasing type.

He knows there’s more to you, more than you’ve come to lead him on. He knows how much of good girl you are, so kind, gentle, and patient with a man like him. It’s because you’re all those traits and more is why Mikey finds himself so drawn to you.

Something so pure and innocent simply had to have a dark side, a facet in you that he’s so desperate to discover.

He tries to draw it out of you in the subtlety of daily life—tugging at the hem of your skirt, bringing his hands to grace at the small of your back for a second longer, even peppering kisses at the crook of your neck because he knows how much it flusters you. He adores watching how your face shatters at the thought, how willing he is to take you anywhere.

Even now as he has you sprawled atop the messy blue duvets of the bed, your face still holds strong with a crumbling resistance—Mikey’s eager to draw it out of you.

You can’t comprehend what Mikey gets out it, what teasing you to ends does for him. He’s found solace between your thighs, his fingers to draw such slow circles along your clit. It’s a gentle touch that grows heavy, the gradual weight searing deep into the puffy hood.

You’re gorgeous like this to him, basking in the bare palm of ador itself. His fingers never fall short to please you, the sullied pads of his digits teasing the cute bulb. It’s the hot twitches of bliss that Mikey’s searching for, that enriched flame consuming your poor pussy.

He works at you on his own pace, such slender digits exploring all there is to you. Not an inch of your cunt isn’t known by him his swirling the sticky webs of your essence across your pussy. It’s because of him your folds don a silky sheen, the budding pearl of your clit graced with a shimmer blessed for a diamond, and the glassy webs weaving over your fluttering slit.

“Fuck, pussy’s just so pretty, baby. Gonna take me in like a good girl today, right?”

His tone’s so deep and smug that it’s harrowing, the thumps of your heart send into a roused blaze., Your hands can’t help but to race to your visage, the flat of your hands shielding you from his sights. All you can do is reply to him shyly, the small whimper of your voice breaking through the air.

“O-Okay, just…don’t say it like that…”

But Mikey always finds a way to get what he wants.

Just to prove his point, he’ll go as far as he needs to–or as far as it calls to be. In your precious case, Mikey’s willing to put in his all, reeling his ruined fingers from your cunt as the precursor. He rests back onto his hauches for a moment of relapse before filling the space between your legs with his hips, delivering such a harsh grip along the thick shaft of his cock.

The crown of flushed pink nips at your slit, the mindless pecks teasing your hole to stretch. His hips don’t falter to the beat, gradually introducing your walls to the thick girth bestowed onto his cock. He’s amused by the scene, the puffy plush of your cunt’s lips parting to welcome the full expanse of his length. It’s a pretty sight—-but nothing’s prettier than you caught up in the height of a fuzzy greed.

“Y-You’re s’ big, Mikey, fuck—”

That’s where he catches you, right at the sliver line of coherency and obscurity. His hands ground themselves beside your head, forming a cage just befitting for his pretty girl. You don’t know whatyou’ve started by muttering those five words—those five words that unknowingly seal your fate for the night.

“That’s so dirty, baby. Moanin’ my name like that, makes me think you want something!”

The dark hues of his eyes always seem to catch yours one way or another. Mikey bring his chest to smother against your own, pinning his lips to the shell of your ear. He has to say it, to say the very words to bring down from your high horse onto the plane of hellish lust he occupies.

“Knew you were a slut, now lemme hear all of thse pretty moans of yours!”

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ MITSUYA

When it comes to trying to ease your nerves, Mitsuya’s the sweetheart type .

He understands, he really does—the stress of revealing your body to him. Though he doesn’t quite understand what warrants that striking heat to stir up deep within your tummy, he knows that it’s his job to reassure you of any and all doubts.

He keeps that thought as his mantra, using it in his life to create those small stepping stones. Compliments were always boiling at the forefront of his tongue, his hand clinging to your waist, and the kisses he’d smother you in were nothing short of his infallible love.

He puts so much effort in for a night like tonight, Mitsuya slotting himself between your legs with inexplicable ease. His hands cup at your hips for support, the pads of his thumbs rolling loose circles into your roused skin. Mitsuya’s cheek lays along the warmth of your inner thigh as he melts into you, his attention set solely on your cunt.

There’s just something about you that brings his mind to a startling blank. Without touching you, his heart rings with a pang so heavy it floods his ears. The anticipation instilled in him bleeds across his skin, his veins pulling cours of thrill to the surface. The second his fingers do reach the lips of your cunt, his lips ghost past, all too ready to place a needy kiss onto your clit.

He shouldn’t be this endowed to you, Mitsuya losing every bit of himself in you. It’s messy, the melding spills of your essence and his spit decorates the canvas known as your skin. He prays you’ll forgive him for how far he’s fallen from his goal. He wants to keep you calm and free of any ulterior thoughts—but fuck do you taste good?

You taste so good on his tongue that it’s indescribable. Every delve he deals between your silky folds only delivers a world of drunken bliss riveting across his body. It’s your scent, your flavor, the way your pretty little clit twitches along his plush lips, all of it takes a toll on his composure. And Mitsuya simply has to let you know, his whimpers drown within the heavy unclasp of his lips.

“Feels good, Princess?”

“M-Mhm, feels really good, Takashi.”

“Good, just keep relaxing. Wanna make you feel good.”

Why it’s so much on him that he’s far gone from the forgotten goal, replaced with the urge to make you cum. He’s so hellbent on it that nothing can or will distract him from it—even the sudden bucks of your hips.

His hands brace your hips that much rougher, pinning you to sink deeper into the bed. “Don’t do that, you gotta cum fr’ me, ‘kay?”

“B-But…, ‘m gonna cum!–”

He’s the one to cut your words short, pulling your clit between his lips for a final kiss. It’s the suckling force that spools your orgasm out of you, the glass droplets of your high weeping from your pussy. He draws back from you to admire the scene, the swollen lips of your cunt dressed in blissful tears. His hands come to pat at the precious sight, fingertips grazing along the frail mounds.

“Oh, shit, look at that? You squirted so much fr’ me, Baby! That’s my good girl!”

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ CHIFUYU

When it comes to easing your nerves, Chifuyu’s the sympathetic type.

It’s in his nature to care, to put his heart for everyone—especially when it comes to his sweet girl. All he wants for you is comfort, it’s all he strives for. He loves you watching your eyes light up at every kiss, every embrace, every compliment, all of it offers him a thrill. Yet even with all his efforts, Chifuyu knows he can’t quite help all that pops into that head of yours.

Even now he wants you to be comfortable, placing a pillow onto the ground between the soles of his feet.

It’s embarrassing, he knows but words couldn’t begin to describe how much Chifuyu loves having your pretty lips laced around his cock. The soft kisses at his slit, trailing pecks, even the heavy ring of white packing at the base of his cock—he’s a sucker for it all.

A sight for sore eyes is all he takes it as—your puffy cheeks, plump lips dripping with drool, and the prickling warp of tears building at your lashes. He’s practically whimpering at your touch, how your hands swivel at the thick shaft just to coax his cock that much more.

He knows you don’t know it, the mess you make out of him. Chifuyu can barely find a moment’s rest when you sit before him, milking his cock for more than he’s worth. He can feel the swelling bloat of his balls fill with his deepest desires, just waiting to explode down the constricts of your throat.

And yet, Chifuyu’s even more sure that you don’t know just exactly what you do to him, his eyes glazed to your limp tongue traveling along his underside. He’s so caught up at the lusty sight that he nearly missed the soft coo of your voice, the strained wince calling out to him.

“Fuyu…” you mumble out, swollen lips reeling from the silky lather of his cock. The soapy rivets of spit dribble from the wispy threads connecting you both, weaving itself along the swells of your bare chest.

The hazy green hues of his eyes fall in line with your own, Chifuyu offering you a stare through the thick gathering of his lashes.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I wanna make you cum…soon.”

A breathless gasp is all Chifuyu can manage, eyes widening at your words. There’s such a stubborn pout on your visage that he can’t help but gawk, the strain befalling your brows and lips alike. All he can do is mutter out his raw thoughts to the air, staggered by the own heat rising in his cheeks.

“Fuck, you’re so cute…j-just don’t look at me like that!”

He’s weak, but the strength he musters in his body is enough to bring his palm to cup at your cheek. He’s even willing to close the distance between you both, the rousing heat beneath his skin wafting across your own.

“You wanna make me cum, baby? Keep looking at me like that and you will.”

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ؘ TAGLIST: @avitnis @p-antomime @getoswhore @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @whore4mikey @pixelsanji @yooniluvbot444 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @tojidilfs @pulchritxde @tirzamisu @hannas16 @devilgirlcrybabiey @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @zuuki @kazusugar @jjjangsta @mitsuyasfavorite @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @simpliheavenli @chaoticevilbakugo @desiray562 @lovemegood @luvrdrop @widepipepaladiknight @taesd-urag @ushitoshiii @nekoriots @ladyackerman @ladyackermann @tonaken @wh0re4levi @bloobrryktty @kensgff @roronoasangel @23victoria

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[sweetracha]

-Size training with chan and changbin, them being so big and buff got me feeling some kinda way. Just imagining dom! chan benig so nice and soft while you try to fit him down your throat. MehAps anal? slowly working your way up to bigger sized dildos until you're ready for either one of their cocks? Just reader being small and them forcing their dick into you- so basically big dick energy with both of them- ok thank youuu <333

This ask has me all sorts of messed up! Anon I am so thankful for you.

Okay I wasn't sure how to break this down, so I am going to do both boys separately than Poly!

Chan would be so caring and sweet when size training you. I feel like it all started from the first time you two were getting intimate. It ended early because you couldn't take him all the way, he was just too big. While he had a short-lived ego boost, he saw the pain in your eyes and immediately stopped. After a long discussion about insecurities and wants, you two decided to size train. He bought a bunch of toys in varying sizes but never bigger than himself. You two had a schedule set for when you would begin stretching. I picture him sitting against the headboard with you sat in-between his legs. He would slowly draw circles on your clit and ease in the toy, only praises left his mouth. Chan was concerned when you said you were ready to try him again but was completely impressed when he was able to sink right in. While he may still be praising you... his movements were punishing.

Changbin would see size training as a sort of exercise. He likes to push the limits of his body through working out and when he saw you struggling to deep throat him, he got a wicked smile on his face. It was a regimented routine he had set up for you. Every time you would go down on him for training, he would set up reps. Half his dick in your mouth for 10 seconds, pull back for 5, then repeat. After each "work out" Binnie would take such good care of you. Just like muscle training, you needed to rest and respect your body. That way when your neck session came, he could push you just a bit more. You didn't even realize until after he finished that you managed to let his fuck your throat like a doll.

Now the two of them together would be so hot. I think the two of them would size train you for anal. They both get so jealous of who gets to ruin you, so why not at the same time. They bought the cutest set of plugs with different gem colors to represent sizes. Depending on the day, one of the boys would lay your naked body over their lap while the other spread you open and nestled in the plug. It was always loving touches and sweet words. Once it was secured, they made sure you came at least twice. one from each of them. They were getting ready to set up for you next plug when they noticed one was missing...the largest size. When they found you sat all pretty in bed with a glimmering pink plug, the two boys lost it. Now it was a competition of who got to use it first.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #sweetie of the bakery #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #chang #changbin smut #changbin x reader #seo #seo changbin