#it's still cute and i like the sounds it makes. it is definitely a circle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months

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waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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selfcarecap · 17 days

Text

Backseat [j.p]

pairing: Javier Peña x reader

summary: When Javi has to work late, you visit him to help relieve some stress during his break. Or, as Lana said: let’s get in the back of your cop car officer <3 (kinda)

warnings: my first Javi fic omg and first fic in general in like one and a half years sooo, smut (public sex technically (in/next to a car) but no one sees them don’t worryy, p in v, unprotected, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk (only from Javi though, reader barely says a thing oops) excessive use of ‘baby’, use of ‘good girl’, Javi comes on reader’s belly and face, established relationship, not tooo much aftercare but they’re both fine with it, Javi taps (not slaps) reader’s cheek during sex), I assume that’s clear but this is about the fictionalised version of him lol, brief mention of the reader’s (harmless) crush on Steve lmao, cute and romantic Javi

word count: 2.8k

The threat of rain lingers in the cool air as Javi takes you to his car, his greedy hand placed on your ass as you walk. He’s parked at the other end of the parking lot next to the station, in a roofed corner with walls on the sides shielding it, and no other vehicles in sight. He did say he’d make sure no one would see you.

You haven’t had sex in a few days, both busy with work and other things, and you were looking forward to him finally fucking you again come Friday night. When he called you to say he had to stay at work at least a few more hours, you knew you’d have to go to him if you still wanted sex today. Otherwise Javi wasn’t coming home before you were fast asleep, and you couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

Javi was on board as soon as you asked if he had a few minutes to spare; he knew what your tone meant immediately and he missed the feeling of you naked in his arms as much as you did.

He unlocks the car and pushes the front seat forward to make more space in the backseat. You sit down in the back and grin, pulling him into the car by his jacket.

“Wait, baby, we better do it like this,” he says, pulling your legs to the side of the seat, the car door still open as he spreads you out on the backseat.

“You want to fuck me with the door open?” You ask.

“It’ll make it less obvious what we’re doing, and I can fuck you better like this.” You take in the position of him standing next to the car and think of him squeezing into the backseat with you instead. He’s probably right. You don’t mind as long as he gets on with it.

Javi takes off his leather jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, “You warm enough?”

You nod. The comfort of the car and the corner it’s parked in and, more importantly, the promise of Javi’s warmth provide a pleasant coziness. With a grin on his face, Javi finally bends down to kiss you, and you immediately push your tongue into his mouth.

“We gotta hurry up, you think you can do that?” Javi asks between kisses, and you nod desperately. As if you didn’t come all the way to the DEA station after your own draining workday just to get fucked. You’ve been waiting for this all week.

He pushes his thumb between your lips and you drool around it immediately. You respond to his questioning expression with an enthusiastic nod as he finds the hem of your short skirt and pulls your panties to the side. His wet thumb on your clit makes you gasp and arch into him. You can definitely make this quick.

Javi smirks at you, “You been waiting for this as much as I have? I’m all ready for you, baby, just tell me when you’re ready”. He kisses you and continues to rub circles over your clit as your pussy gets wetter and wetter, and you let out an incoherent string of sounds that’s supposed to let him know you’re ready.

He pulls back from the kiss and gently takes your face in his hand, squishing your lips into a pout, “What was that? You know that’s not enough for me. Need you to properly say it.”

You look up at Javi through your lashes, licking your lips, “Yes, I’m ready, Javi. Please fuck me.”

His face breaks out into a grin, “See, wasn’t that hard, was it? Or are you already too horny to speak?”. All you can focus on is his big fingers that have started fucking you, so you know better than to try and give an intelligible answer that would only come out as gibberish anyway.

Your stomach somersaults when Javi undoes his belt, the clang of metal making your pussy throb. You reach down to pull your panties down your legs, and seeing the wet spot on them makes you even more excited for what’s to come. Javi pushes your legs up against your chest with a hungry groan, and bends down to press a kiss to your pussy.

He decides to stay between your legs for a bit longer when he hears you sigh as he starts to lick sloppy circles against your clit, the taste of your wet pussy making him want to stay there forever.

“Javi,” you mumble, almost sounding as if you’re tipsy. You could easily cum from his mouth on you, but you know you don’t have much time before he needs to get back to work, and you need him inside you now.

He leans down to quickly kiss you as he unzips his jeans, and you break the kiss to look at his hard cock.

“I’m ready, I’m ready,” you repeat before he can ask you to say it again. You lie back but he stands up straighter to scan the area and make sure no one’s there to see and you slump against the backseat, lying down.

You lean your head to the side impatiently and catch the scent of Javi in the jacket of his that you’re cuddled up in, and it makes you want him even more. He laughs when you reach out your hands to him and he finally puts his hands back on your body, grabbing you to pull you to the edge of the backseat. The space is tight, the car door opened as wide as it can be as he stands next to the car facing you, but he’s making it work.

Javi spreads your legs and stands between them, casting one last glance above the car, “We’re good but we still have to hurry before someone sees us,” he says and you grin, ready for him to finally finally start, but he takes your grin as something else.

He smirks as he puts a hand on your jaw to make you look into his eyes, “You like that, baby? You want someone to walk in on you getting fucked, huh? Maybe Steve… I know he’d like that. What do you think?”

You slap his hand away and fake-gasp; he’s been teasing you about your ‘crush’ on Steve ever since you made an offhand comment about him being attractive.

“Just want you,” you mumble, half wanting him to know he’s the only one you want to be with, and half bashful because, well, Steve is attractive.

Javi grins and leans down to kiss you, simultaneously sneaking a hand up your skirt again, “Don’t worry, I know that. I can feel how wet this pussy is just for me. Could get lost in you forever.”

“Then do,” you say, craning your neck forward as he slaps his cock against your clit. You start to open your mouth a bit. You just want one brief taste before he fucks you. He looks at you and gently pushes you to lie back down, and you pout.

“That has to wait until tomorrow, baby. You know I won’t be able to stop if you wrap those pretty lips around me,” he says and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You smile, satisfied knowing the effect you have on him.

You spread your knees as wide as you can in the small space, Javi stepping as close to the side of the car as he can.

“You ready?” He asks one final time, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your wet and aching pussy.

“Mmhm, yes,” you moan, your fingers reaching down to spread your lips for him. Javi adjusts his position and pulls one of your ankles over his shoulder and decides to give one last glance to your surroundings to make sure no one will interrupt him fucking you, even though, right now, you couldn’t care less who sees. His hard dick that rests between your legs and pulses against your clit is enough to make you forget about every other thing in the world.

“So needy, baby,” he taunts when you sigh dramatically to get his attention, and you can tell he tries to tease you a bit more but ultimately gives in after a few seconds and pushes his cock into you. It slides in all the way with how wet you are, and you let out a desperate noise that’s muffled by Javi’s mouth slotting over yours.

He puts one hand on your hip to direct your body better and his other hand holds the side of your face as he caresses it, “Don’t mind you being needy though, baby, so am I. So glad you came, spoiling me with your pussy during my break. I could get used to this, you know?”

His eyes close in pleasure as he starts to fuck you, “Always so tight for me,” he says, voice strained. Every time his hips drive into yours is accentuated by the loud sound of your wet pussy, taking every inch of your boyfriend’s cock as he ruts into you like he hasn’t fucked you in months.

“‘M not gonna last long so you better be quick, baby, yeah? Can you do that?”

You nod quickly, unable to form words and he grins devilishly when only a few sounds of pleasure make their way out of your throat.

“God, I love when you get like this, all speechless because you‘re too horny for me. Love how you take my cock, you’re so fucking tight”, he roughly taps your cheek three times and you lean into his touch, into the sting, as he fucks you harder.

He grabs your face more roughly and you moan as he continues praising you, “Always so fucking pretty for me, oh my— god”, he changes his pace and you feel the difference too, heat building up in your lower belly, the pleasure all flowing into the space between your legs that he’s fucking with what feels like all his strength. Javi puts two fingers in your mouth and you eagerly suck them, your mouth full, drool starting to spill from your lips.

“Fuck,” he moans, and starts hastily rubbing your clit with his other thumb, his wide body keeping your legs apart, “You wanna cum for me, baby? Being such a good girl for me.”

You moan as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squeezing tightly around Javi and he fucks you through your waves of pleasure, “That’s it, that’s my girl, my good fucking girl”, he speaks to you through almost gritted teeth, trying desperately not to cum until you’re finished.

He can feel the exact moment it gets too much for you, taking his hand away from your clit but he continues fucking you, his hips relentless against yours.

“Show me your tits, baby,” he asks with a hoarse voice, the wetness of your pussy pooling between you both. You messily pull up your shirt, exposing your tits to the cool air, still feeling weightless and slightly out of your mind from your orgasm. He takes his hand from your mouth and greedily grabs one of your tits. He smirks seeing you bare under your top and starts playing with your nipple, making you arch your back.

Javi pulls out of you and strokes his cock only a few seconds before he’s spurting cum all over your belly and chest. As you greedily strain your neck to see every single drop that he’s cumming you get closer to him and some of his cum lands on your lips and cheek.

“Fuck,” you both moan into the space between you as Javi jerks off until he’s drained, and you quickly push your hand between your legs, rubbing your once again pulsing wet pussy.

Javi sees your hand on your pussy and slaps his still hard cock against your clit a few times. He then gently pulls your hand off yourself and replaces it with his mouth as he bends down to suck on your clit. Incoherent words leaving your lips, you grab Javi’s hair and grind your pussy against his face, your thighs around his head.

It only takes a few more moments of his tongue on your clit until you succumb to the weightlessness of your second orgasm as it shoots through you with a new intensity.

You let your legs fall around Javi's shoulders when you’ve finished and smile at him looking back up at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. He shakes his head, unable to believe you just did this, right here and during his work break. It definitely won’t be the last time.

He stands back up and wipes the cum from your face with the pad of his thumb and you suck it off him until your face is clean again.

“I’m so happy you're mine, baby. Only mine,” he says before attacking your face with wet and sticky kisses. He tucks himself into his pants and gets baby wipes from the pocket of his jacket that you’re lying on.

“Did so good for me, baby,” he praises as he wipes your belly and tits, leaving kisses there after. He gently wipes over your face again, just to make sure, and cleans you up between your legs.

Afterwards, he pulls your clothes back in place and kisses you as he leans down over you in the backseat. You wrap your legs around his waist and let him just hold you, and you let out giggles as he kisses you all over your face again. You brush your hands through his hair to tame it, and just when you’ve deemed him presentable you hear Steve’s voice from not too far away.

“I’ve been looking for you. Break’s over,” he walks around the corner and sees you in the back of the car.

“No sex in our car,” Steve slaps Javi on the back and moves to the front of the car. He gives you a look when he sees the seat pushed all the way to the front.

“We were just cuddling. I missed him,” you say in an innocent tone and Steve seems to buy it, or at least pretends to, and pushes the seat back and sits down, pulling the door shut.

You give Javi a wide-eyed look at how close that was and he grins back, pulling you to sit upright. There really are worse people to walk in on you than Steve, but you’re still glad that he was a few minutes too late.

“We’re driving you home,” Javi declares, and makes Steve get in the back and sits you in the front. It’s not until Javi drives away from your little corner with the roof and walls protecting it that you realise it must have been raining for a while.

It’s a lot colder now and the streets are wet, a steady flow of rain pouring from the clouds. You pull Javi’s jacket around you closer and already dread having to give it back to him when you’re back home and he has to leave to work some more.

Once the car stops in front of your house, Javi walks you to the door. You pout but part with the jacket and Javi puts it back on.

“Now it smells like you,” he smiles and hugs your waist to pull you in for a kiss. Maybe you don’t mind giving him back his jacket after all. You tell him good luck with the rest of his work night and he doesn’t drive away until he sees the light on your floor turn on. Even if you’ll be asleep, he can’t wait to come back home to a bed warmed by your perfect body.

“Man, I’ve never seen anyone so in love,” Steve says, pretending to be annoyed, but really Javi knows he’s happy for you two.

Javi just smiles. He’s never seen anyone more in love either, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog and let me know if you enjoyed this fic, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

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xazse · 3 months

Note

I NEED A SEQUAL TO YOUR AFAB!GOJO X READER

AFAB!GOJO x MALE!READER

Notes: listen listen, ur gonna be mad at me but I had to this was the only way I had seen it ending! AND IF YOU DONT LIKE IT JUST LMK AND ILL DO AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING! And I think you meant my recent one? The Afab gojo

Tags: Smut, mentions of Afab!Geto, titjob, cuckholding, The readers actions might not align with yours! Just wanted to let some of you guys know and reader is kind of a bastard. 😭

Pairings: Afab!gojo x male!reader

Satoru despises this right now, he hates it, after your night together, with you fucking him so good in your car, He finds himself wanting to so badly at night, hell even in the mornings hes going crazy. Rubbing his clit for so long it starts to sting, night after night he’s fucking himself with his fingers.

You weren’t lying when you said you had been watching Suguru for a while now, he sees your drifting eyes when he’s in your proximity, he sees it all. Satoru can admit his best friend really is pretty, gandering attention from men and women, he just wishes you weren’t apart of that crowd.

So he’s devised a plan to keep Suguru away from you at all times. He changes his and Sugurus route to school, (they live together and travel everywhere together) he has your classes memorized so that was also easy. Suguru had brought up questions about the changes but he quickly reassured him that nothing was wrong: that he just wanted a change of scenery.

Suguru doesn’t know you, and Satoru wants to keep it that way. He truly doesn’t know why he’s doing all of this for you, I mean he could definitely score someone “better” than you, funnier than you, and just a lot more nicer in general but he keeps finding himself craving you even more.

It seems to work, everything is working in his favor… but you.. you’re a little too quiet, over the years Satoru’s noticed you’re rather upfront with the people you want, so why haven’t you made an attempt at Suguru from the start?

“Attachment: 2 images”

His phone goes off again

“Attachment: 1 video”

Image one consists of Suguru on his knees, with his face covered in cum, seemingly your cum, and dried tears.

Image two is Suguru with his pretty tits, pressed up around your cock, a cute cloudy smile decorating his face.

Satoru feels like time has stopped around him, he doesn’t blame Suguru at all since he hadn’t known of his and yours weird relationship, but you, you’re a bastard through and through, But Satorus fingers don’t stop him from clicking on the video.

It’s Suguru with his legs spread on a table facing forward, facing the camera. He can see all of Sugurus bits, he can see the way you’re sliding in him inch by inch, he can hear Suguru whining at the mere stretch of you. Sugurus hand flies up to his mouth to muffle some of the groans spilling out, then you begin fucking him ruthlessly, even with this you’re still holding the camera perfectly, making sure to rub it in Satorus face even more.

He can hear the lewd wet slapping sounds of your pelvis meeting sugurus ass, the glistening of your slick mixing together already.

He knows Suguru can feel the sting in his pussy when you do slam back into him, knows that it feels so fucking mind numbing and good. You use one of your hands to push his leg towards his shoulder to get deeper and a better angle. Suguru is wrecked with loud sobs of pleasure, one of his hands maneuver to his clit and he begins circling it roughly.

Satoru feels his own clit needing to be touched, his panties are soaking wet three minutes into the video, interrupted he can hear Suguru talking or at least attempting: “please..please.. I wanna..” by this point his hair is strewn all over his face, sticking in some places, he doesn’t even seem to be all there, you’ve reduced the poor man into nothing.

Satoru feels awful, his heart feels heavy, his body is on fire, he doesn’t have anyone he can call at this late hour to help him release his frustrations. He uses his dildo that night, it doesn’t compare it never will, he fucks himself on it for hours and hours, repeating your video everytime. He’s milking his pussy till tears are streaming down his face, but his hips won’t stop.

#zsworks #geto x reader #satoru x male reader #afab gojo x male reader #geto x male reader #afab geto #afab gojo #jjk x male reader #Afab geto x male Reader #jjk smut #afab suguru #Afab suguru x male Reader

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 7 months

Text

Ghost liking you in special jewellery

so fucking nsfw

pairing: l.t. Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader (cod mw)

tags/tw: afab!reader, dirty talk, butt-plugs, smut, not really explicit but still kinda public teasing

a/n: uhm, somehow I just started imagining Ghost absolutely adoring his partner wearing those jewelled but plugs just because it makes you look oh so cute🫣

Simon 'Ghost' Riley MASTERLIST

nsfw

-like, it was never a secret you love when Ghost gropes your ass, big strong hands massaging the flesh, neither that he loved grabbing at any part of your body, especially your ass

-it's just nice when he does, making you feel desired as he physically can't keep his hands off of you for long, and he just likes it because it makes him feel grounded and he likes seeing how amazingly reactive you're to his touch

-then you both find out you don’t mind Ghost teasing that puckered hole of your ass

-it happened after that one time when he accidentally let his thumb slip over your back entrance as he intended to push your lower back down during doggy, hand gliding from gripping the flesh of your rear and up over the curve of it and then just .... yeah

-you were caught off-guard, moaned in surprised pleasure at the fleeting touch

-of course, Ghost noticed it hadn't been an entirely uncomfortable sound you'd released, and delicately repeated the teasing and light movement, only to spur the same sound again

-the pillow talk following that session had you incredibly more flustered than normally as he asked about it

-although you managed to talk about the newly discovered thing, neither of you really desired to go the full way, Ghost large enough he never skipped foreplay and needed to prep you before each time you had sex despite it being months into your relationship

-STIL, it turned out that you did like the exhilarating feeling of Ghost teasing you like that

-somewhere down the road, you scrolled on some sex website, wanting to buy some condoms and lube and just happen to get stuck on a pretty beginner's butt plug with a glimmering jewel

-without much thought, you added it to the cart

-imagine Ghost’s shock when he’s the one picking up the package and opens it, only to find the bejewelled plug, even more, so the first time he works it into you and fucks you as he stares at it and he feels something hot course through it

-he would go fucking feral, you were usually so pretty in jewellery but somehow you were even prettier now with the moans spilling from your lips as he teasingly pushed against the jewel to feel it nudge through the thin walls to where his cock pushed into your absolutely sopping hole

-FUCKING IMAGINE THIS MAN WANTING YOU TO WEAR IT WHILE YOU GO OVER TO YOUR FAMILY FOR A DINNER

-the whole getting ready together needed to be done twice as he leaves your hair dishevelled and his shirt wet around the wrist after fingering you for being so good to him as he slips the plug inside you

-he would be so smug the whole evening, noticing how you shift, favouring to lean more on one side than the other, legs crossed, all to keep some of your weight of what’s hidden beneath the innocent-looking dress

-he would definitely join you in the kitchen once you finish helping your mother dish off the table, offering that he could take over her role and let her rest sweet talker Riley initiated, receiving endless indirect praise from your mother as she gushes what a man you've found to you as she wanders into the living room where you dad is

Though smiling at her until she disappears, you were suspicious of Ghost's intentions, only to be proven right when rather than fetching the desserts from the fridge, he circles his arm around your waist. 'Does your daddy know his little princess likes jewels up her arse when she gets fucked? ’ As the whispered words curl over your ear, his hand slide down the curve of your ass, making you straighten. The once cold but now body-temperature metal inside you was all the more noticeable even if Ghost didn’t toy with it like he loved to do while having you bent over in front of him. ’Simon, behave’, you scolded him in a hushed voice, starting to regret that you let him convince you to do this. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he chuckled. ’Don’t play shy now, lovie, you didn’t seem to mind one bit when I worked it into you earlier' . Your hand shot to his thigh, nails digging into the meaty muscle as Ghost cheekily slipped his hand to brush beneath your rear, fingers spreading wide as he pushed his palm up, jostling the plug nestle inside you. Your head snaps to the side to look over your shoulder, all of a sudden worried either of your parents had entered the kitchen again without you noticing. 'You said you wouldn’t tease', the sentence was whiny, rushed, as you looked at him now, a slight scowl on your features despite neither your mother nor father standing stunned in the doorway. ’Impossible to when knowing what a pretty sight will greet me when we get home'. Ghost wasn't sorry at all, only a devilish smirk meeting you as he spoke in a husky voice. 'I can very well leave you high and dry once we get home'. 'Getting feisty? Hm?' There’s a dark glint in his eyes as he leans down to your ear after licking his lips. 'We both know you’ll be dripping once we get back, dirty fucking girl getting off on having matching jewellery around her neck and inside her that no one but I know ’bout”. He presses a kiss to your bare shoulder a your mouth falls open, as if the gentlemanly action would soothe the burning desire he ignited in you and leaves you with as he pulls away, retrieving the dessert your mother raked earlier during the day.

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luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 | ��𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary jealousy makes people do crazy things. when steve finds out you’re going on a date with eddie munson, he devises a plan involving one pair of binoculars, one robin, four adopted children and an important question. [7k]

warnings gn!reader, ditzy reader, protective steve, childhood friends to lovers, pining steve, mutual pining, fluff, love confessions, slight hurt/comfort, soft steve, steves pov, eddie fucking munson ♡ tw for toaster bathtub joke

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Steve knows you're outside not because you told him you'd be visiting him at work today, but because you're talking to yourself. You quieten as you pull open the door, a smile on your face that hasn't changed since he first met you in the third grade. Some kid had pushed you down and when he'd asked if you were okay you'd smiled just like that, like you hadn't been pushed at all.

"What are you talking about?" he asks lightly.

You stop in the middle of the store and blink. "What?"

He skirts around the front desk and wraps you up in a hug. You're still at first like you usually are, though you slowly relax under his touch and hug back.

"What were you saying? Before you came in?" he asks, rubbing your back with both arms.

"Um… I don't really remember."

Steve holds you at arm's length to assess your face. You're lying to him. He can tell from the way your top lip twitches towards your nose, almost pouting.

You drop your arms from his waist and take a step back. Steve has years of knowledge on your whims and whiles and is reluctant to let you move away from him just yet, his hand clasped loosely around your wrist.

You smile and your hands float at your sides like lily pads bobbing in the air. He decides not to pry, returning to his station behind the Family Video desk. You hop up onto the counter and watch him from over your shoulder.

"Where's Robin?" you ask.

"I'm starting to think you like her more than me."

You smile at him softly and he doesn't know what it means. It's alarming. Robin appears from the backroom before he can work himself up over it, a crate of tapes in her arms.

She groans as she puts them down on the counter. "I miss Scoops Ahoy."

"Cute uniforms," you mumble.

"It's not the uniforms I miss," Robin says, letting her forehead fall to the counter. "My arms hurt. I'm not cut out for manual labour. If Steve were a better man he'd do all the heavy lifting for me."

"Where's the equality in that?" Steve asks, looking to you to see if he's made you laugh.

He has. Your lips quirk up into a startled smile as a rush of breath escapes you, a lilting miracle of sound.

He realises then that he's doing something he's not allowed to do and decides to be a better man. "I'll do the rest, Robs."

Robin looks up, surprised at his charity. "You will?" she asks, not trusting his genuineness.

"Sure. Keep Y/N entertained while I'm gone."

Once he's securely in the backroom he starts to freak out. He's been harbouring a mess of feelings for you ever since he hit puberty but has discarded them time and time again. Your friendship is longstanding and special to him, even when closeness with you has been hard to obtain. Not because you're purposefully distant, but because you're a total dreamer.

Head in the clouds your entire life, Steve has wrangled through hoops to try and protect you from bullies, from bad friends, from your own distraction; you forget to eat, you're lucky you graduated because your attention span for anything that doesn't interest you is non-existent, and you hate parties so your circle is a closed loop consisting of just Steve.

Now you've both graduated there's a lot of time to be spent together.

Steve is suffering through it. His life feels like a constant game of look but don't touch.

That might be unfair. He's definitely very touchy.

You're giggling to yourself as he carries the second box of tapes in and heaves it down by the first. Robin's laughter is much more evil.

"What's funny?" he asks suspiciously.

"I'm giving Y/N tips."

"Tips?" he asks, so used to Robin's absurdity that he starts to unpack his second box, elbows brushing Robin's as she hums.

"Mm-hm." She taps her nails over a plastic case and leans towards him. "Boy tips."

"And what would you know about boys?" he asks her.

"I'm not stupid. Boys are like… frogs."

"Frogs," Steve repeats dryly.

"Slimey. Predictable. Easily disected."

"Green," you say seriously.

Steve chokes on a laugh and drops the tape in his hand back into the box of new arrivals to cover his mouth with a fist.

"Babe, what?" he asks.

You look at him and shake your head lightly. He knows he's not gonna get any answers from you, trying for nonchalance as he asks, "Boy tips? For who?"

"They have a date."

"You do?" Steve asks you. He almost snaps his neck. Robin coughs to cover a laugh.

A knife in his chest. Twisting. Steve's definitely been stabbed. He looks down to his sternum and doesn't find a wound.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, pretending that's why his lungs have exploded. He's gonna suffocate to death any second now.

"I didn't think you'd have any boy tips," you say, clearly surprised at his surprise.

Whatever. Steve takes a huge breath in through his nose and becomes your friend again, rather than a jealous idiot.

"Y/N," he says, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I am a boy."

"I've noticed."

"So I know what boys like."

"No, you know what you like," Robin says. "You don't know what Eddie Munson likes. You're different genres."

"You're going on a date with Eddie Munson?" he asks you, almost shouting. Not his smoothest moment.

"Friday," you say, in the sometimes infuriating way that you do, like you have no indication that he's shocked. And he's shocked.

"When did he ask you out?" Steve asks.

Robin smirks behind her hand. Steve would love it if she had, like, a miniscule amount of compassion. An atom's worth, for his struggle.

"I asked him," you say.

Steve needs to flee. He can't because he would look insanely obvious so he cracks on his customer service smile and tries to stop asking questions.

He fails. "You like Eddie Munson?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm going on a date."

An insane wave of jealousy sloshes around inside him. Or maybe the slurpee he'd had a half hour ago. Whatever it is, he's nauseous.

He's also confused (a common theme when it comes to you.) He'd had no clue you were dating, or looking to date, no clue this was a lane that was open. And you're so pretty, so magnetic, so disgustingly special and this Munson kid is gonna snap you right up if he has any sense at all.

Steve isn't proud of anything that he does next.

"I heard he's a drug dealer," he says.

Your eyes are wide. Not in horror, as he'd hoped, but puzzlement. "Is he?"

"For sure. The devil's lettuce, Mary Jane, marijuana, everything."

"I thought they were all the same," you say, perplexed, your voice like an ebbing wave.

They are all the same. He was hoping you didn't know that. "Right. What if he gets you hooked on something?"

Robin frowns at him. "Since when are you so judgemental? We've been high together. Like, fifty times."

He steps on her foot. Robin, unused to him fighting back so quickly, gasps in outrage and steps on his foot right back. What ensues is an undignified battle of shoes that has him throwing his arm out and hitting her in the stomach.

"What's your problem?" she asks, eyebrows pinched.

He holds his hands up in surrender. "Sorry! I think you broke my foot."

He flinches when he remembers you're there and watching, only you're not there and you're definitely not watching, having made your way to the two boxes of new movies on the counter. You're sorting through them slowly and singing something to yourself under your breath so quietly he can barely decipher the words. The loudest part is your inhales, familiar, small intakes of air.

"I told them boys like it when you slip them the tongue," Robin whispers smugly.

Steve steps on her foot again and gets promptly slapped in the arm, hard enough to ache.

Later, when Robin's left and the store's finally closing and you're waiting at the door for Steve to drive you home, he tries to slander Eddie again. He almost feels bad.

"You know he's still in high school, right? Isn't that a little young for you?" he asks.

He flicks up the collar of his jacket and switches off the neon lights. You hold the door open, leaning against it with your back arched, like a doll that's fallen down. He pokes the naked skin you've accidentally exposed, a taunting sliver of hip, as he walks past you.

"He's twenty."

Again, Steve knew that. He was just hoping you didn't.

"The whole still being in high-school thing doesn't bug you?" he asks as he locks the door.

You shift from foot to foot beside him, cold now that the sun has disappeared for the night. You shove your hands deep into your pockets and kick the floor.

"I don't know," you say.

He feels bad for trying to dissuade you when you sound like that, insecure.

Despite his selfish wants, he says, "No, I mean. It's totally fine. You're the same age."

"Right," you agree quickly.

"Right," he echoes.

The two of you climb into the BMW and the silence feels unnatural. Conversation between the two of you has always been easy. Now it's stilted.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand through his hair furiously and starting the car.

"You know… I've heard he's really nice," he says.

You perk up. "Yeah?"

"He's in a band, too. A rock band. You like that stuff. You'd be good together," he says, unconvincing even to himself.

Each word could be demonstrated as a plier held to his teeth, slowly pulling. It's agony to stick up for his competitor. No, he corrects himself, not a competitor, because you don't like him. Steve's alone in his pining.

"I don't know about all that," you whisper.

"You don't have to be nervous, okay? I'm sure he's a nice guy and that you'll have fun."

You don't seem very cheered up.

He unclenches his jaw and sneaks a look at you. You're picking the hemming of your long sleeve with a thoughtful look in place. Steve thinks, Fuck, they must really like him.

"Seriously, babe."

You drop your head against your shoulder. "Can I sleep at your place?"

He should say no. "Yeah, of course you can."

"I think there's a racoon living in my attic."

"I'll come take a look tomorrow."

"Thank you."

You tumble out of the car and up the gravel to Steve's house, unlocking the door with a practised ease before running up the stairs. Steve follows with little urgency behind you.

"Babe?" he asks, closing the door behind him.

"I need the bathroom," you call.

Steve nods and beelines for the kitchen, looking for something to make that you'll enjoy and that won't take a year off of your life expectancies. If Steve were by himself he'd skip dinner or order something greasy, but he thinks you should have a proper meal.

He's got a can of soup warming over the burner when you come back down, having switched your outfit for something comfy, clothes you keep in the bottom of his wardrobe for such occasions.

"Pee your pants?" he asks, grinning.

You hit your hip into his on purpose and hoist yourself onto the counter to watch him stir.

"Watch it! Can't you see I'm performing a culinary miracle?"

"It smells nice." Your face floods with happiness.

"It's your favourite one."

"They don't sell my favourite in Bradley's anymore."

"It was at the back of the cabinet. Might get food poisoning," he says.

He's lying through his teeth – he'd gone up to some fancy Indianapolis grocery store and bought a fuck load. He prays that your attention stays on him and not the cabinet behind your head where evidence of his affection hides in wait.

"Yum," you say.

"There's ciabatta in the bread bin. Do you want, like, the works?"

"Balsamic vinegar," you nod your head sagely. "Yes."

He feels a tendril of fondness curl around his heart.

Fed and watered you crawl into Steve's bed like you always do, smack dab in the middle, sheets pulled up to your nose. Your moaning nonsense to yourself about being greedy and evil demons that cause bloating.

"I told you to slow down," he murmurs as he climbs in beside you, the two of you smelling like spearmint toothpaste.

Your hands smell like soap as you bat at him uselessly. "Shut up, Steve."

He moves onto his back and sighs. "You have such an attitude problem."

"I do not."

He throws his hand out fast and squeezes your sensitive waist. You gasp and pull away, giggling as his hand chases you. He digs his fingers into your ribs until you're panting for air, your legs kicking him away from you.

"Stop, Steve. Steve, Steve, Stevie, please stop." Your words are garbled with laughter.

"I can't hear you."

"Stop!" you cry out. "Please."

He pulls his hand away and feels smug at how little effort it took to get you that badly. "I didn't know you could shout that loudly, babe."

"Only for you," you say, catching your breath.

Steve feels his cheeks go red. Physically feels the blood blossom under his skin. He clears his throat and turns away from you, flicking off the light fast so you can't see his embarrassment clear as day.

You calm your breathing and Steve calms his heart. After a few minutes there's a dead silence. Not even the sound of a passing car.

"It's so quiet," you say.

"It was."

Your hand at his back. He suppresses chills as your knuckles move over the dip of his spine and then over, your palm smoothing down his arm until you find his hand. Another one of your quirks when you're tired and dizzy with content, you search for his fingers and twine them with your own as you talk.

"Thanks for dinner. You're a better cook than you'd think, Steve. S'like being at Enzo's but with none of the tables and chairs. Or the music."

He rubs his thumb gently over the back of your hand where it rests on his thighs and chuckles. "I'll give the chef your compliments."

"Thank you."

Another stretch of silence, broken up only by the sound of your breathing. Steve's more familiar with your breathing than his own. He thinks of nights where he'd feigned sleep and watched the rise and fall of your chest through barely parted lashes.

With his back to you it's easy to pretend you're more than friends. He pulls your joined hands to his chest and worries your skin with the pad of his thumb, a thousand thoughts rattling around his brain.

"Y/N," Steve says suddenly, unsure if you're still awake.

"What?" you ask quietly.

"Don't listen to Robin, okay? Don't… don't try and tongue kiss Munson the first time."

You inhale weirdly. "I won't."

"Good." He moves your hand back to your chest and drops it gently. "Goodnight," he says.

You don't say anything back.

Dustin sits under the Family Video desk with his radio contraption that Steve doesn't understand, him and Robin having entered a surprisingly easy conversation. Less surprising upon discovering the topic: Steve's ineptitude, Steve's idiocy, Steve's hopelessness.

"I feel sorry for him," Dustin says conversationally.

"Really sorry for him."

"Because it's his third snub in as many years-"

"And that's not counting each Scoops Ahoy disaster-"

"Exactly. And, it's like, going on how many years of being friends?" Dustin asks.

"Twelve," Steve says, resigned to his fate and feeling very pathetic where he manually ticks through returns on the computer. He doesn't even look up.

"Twelve years to make a move and now he's too late," Dustin says.

"Well, never say never," Robin says, her voice high.

Steve frowns and looks through the screen for a moment before turning his gaze over his shoulder to where Robin lounges on the floor, legs crossed and a book between her thighs.

"What?" he asks.

"What?" she repeats.

They stare at each other. Steve's expression changes from depressed to incensed.

"Oh my god, you know something."

"I don't know anything."

They stare at each other more. Steve doesn't believe her even slightly. He knows Robin. They've been friends for an entire year by this point. Steve would even say that they're best friends. He knows when she's lying.

"'Never say never?'" he quotes.

Dustin has stopped messing with his technology to watch. His head moves one way and then the other like he's following a tennis ball, his brown curls bouncing around his ears.

"It's a common saying-" Robin defends.

"But why did you say it?"

Tense silence.

"You do know something," Dustin says. Excitement gives his face a boyish charm.

Robin closes the book between her thighs and smiles awkwardly. Steve feels his heart leap into his throat when she tilts her head to the side guiltily and sighs.

"Shit," she mutters.

Operation Stakeout is redundant, according to Mike.

"An operation and a stakeout are basically the same thing," he mutters.

"That's not true," Dustin says, know-it-all tone in play. "A stakeout is always an operation but operations aren't always stakeouts."

Lucas eats a handful of chips noisily. Max groans.

"It feels redundant," Robin says.

"It's about to feel jeopardised," Steve says scathingly, forcing her head back down where the six of them hide behind a trimmed hedge outside Enzo's.

"When's it my turn with the binoculars?" Robin asks.

"Never," Dustin says. There isn't a trace of sympathy in his voice.

"Sexism?" she wonders to herself.

Max snatches the binoculars from Dustin’s hand and brings them to her eyes, looking through the painted window of Hawkins best Italian restaurant for any sign of you and your date.

They must look like a group of idiots. Half the gang are in dark clothing where Mike, Robin and Max had all refused to bother. Dustin had brought a camouflage net and strewn it over their heads, though most of them had shrugged it off, holding it to their shoulders like a terrible blanket.

Steve waits impatiently for Max's report.

"There they are," Max says.

He can't himself as he springs up and searches for you. They'd all watched secretly as you'd arrived and met Munson outside. He scrubbed up well. It boiled Steve's blood. In a totally fun, carefree way because he's being very normal about this whole thing. You know, if you ignore Operation Stakeout.

"Where?"

He holds his hand out for the binoculars and Max drops them heavily into his palm. Steve almost blinds himself as he brings them to his eyes, squinting for a glance at you.

"Toward the left."

"They're ordering," he says.

"They're on a date," Mike says.

Lucas makes a sad sound and eats more chips. Steve feels a sharp wave of pity for him though he quickly forgets it in favour of the look on your face. You're smiling wide but insincerely.

"Y/N is not having a good time," he says happily. "Is it evil to feel relieved?"

"Yes," a few voices say.

Dustin shrugs. "Let's hope Eddie makes them cry. Or the other way around."

"Dude." There's a silent conversation that Steve isn't privy to then that ends with Lucas and Dustin shoving each other.

"Why are we expecting this to end badly?" Max asks. "Because I'm still not convinced."

Steve watches you reach for your drink and tries not to recant his explanation with any bias. Tries. "Y/N doesn't like Munson."

"We already knew that, to be fair," Robin says, still trying to defend you now that she'd possibly exposed your secret. Guilt is a new look on her.

"Right, but not liking Eddie and liking Steve are two different things," Max says.

"Well, why wouldn't you like Eddie?" Dustin says.

"If you like him so much why don't you marry him?" Steve asks, deadpan.

"Shut up."

"I know who I'd choose," Max says.

Steve waits for a follow up because he has no clue who Max would choose. When she doesn't answer he peels his gaze from your upturned mouth and finds that the rest of the group are giving Max the same curious look.

"What?" she asks furiously. "One is clearly more attractive."

"Which one, Maxine?" Steve asks.

"Eddie," Mike and Dustin say.

"Steve," Robin and Lucas say.

Max is saved from having to answer by the ensuing argument. They can both drive. Steve is wealthy - "Generationally!" - where Eddie's less so. Steve graduated - "Barely!" - and Eddie's in his third senior year.

"He's in a band," Robin says unhappily, like she's sad that Steve isn't measuring up.

"Have you heard them play? Steve's definitely winning," Lucas says.

"Steve doesn't know who Gollum is," Dustin points out. "He's, like, socially misplaced."

"Does Y/N?" Max asks.

The group ponders. Robin takes the binoculars from Steve's hands and aims them at you again. "Wait, did Eddie get the carbonara? That's a point for Steve."

"It's an Italian staple!" Dustin defends.

"You'd think a cult leader would order something a little more adventurous."

"Hellfire isn't a cult, Steve, don't be fucking offensive."

"Okay, watch your mouth, Henderson," Steve says testily.

His knees ache from hiding and his hands are frigid. It's dark enough for Lucas to switch on a torch as he offers Max his pringles. She wrinkles her nose in disgust and the poor guy looks dejected beyond words.

A disgruntled old lady complains behind them at having to walk around them. Mike complains louder. "This is pointless."

"It's not pointless," Steve says.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't." He glares at Mike.

"It totally is! You're wasting our night to perv on someone who couldn't be less interested in you."

"I didn't ask you to come!" Steve shouts.

"I wanted to see you be wrong in person," he says.

Steve sighs because maybe he is wrong. He doesn't know what he believes anymore. He's working on the tiniest evidence that you like him, a slip of the tongue.

When you'd walked into Family Video a few days ago and asked Robin for 'boy tips', you'd said something suspicious. Steve doesn't think you know what you said. Robin thinks you're both idiots, though she thinks you're pathetic in the loveable way and Steve the pathetic way.

"Why Eddie?" Robin had asked you while he was hidden away in the backroom. "I didn't know you liked the rock and roll type. I was thinking, like, Steve's calibre. Homegrown boy next door who's a little misguided."

"Well, Steve's never gonna ask me out," you'd said.

"Thank god for that," Robin had joked awkwardly. Steve doesn't hold it against her.

When she'd relayed the conversation to him he'd been happy at first, because in most situations this would imply that you're waiting for it. That you want him to ask you out.

But you're not like most people, and you might've meant Steve in place of someone like Steve.

"I don't think he's wrong," Dustin says now.

"You're the same IQ," Mike says.

"You might be right, Wheeler," Steve huffs, holding his hands out for a turn. Robin passes them obligingly. "Y/N's so literal. They might've just been stating the obvious."

"Or maybe they thought Robin was implying they liked Steve and got defensive," Max adds.

"Or maybe it's exactly like it sounds and they have a crush on Steve," Lucas says. He wilts under Max's fierce scowl. "Or maybe they were being defensive."

"Defensive isn't really their style," Steve says, not sure what side he's on, sick with hope.

"What is their style?" Mike asks. "Delusion?"

"Shut the fuck up, man," Steve says.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," Max says.

They dissolve into bickering and Steve spies on you, watching through the binoculars with one eye pinched closed as you set down your cutlery. You're laughing.

Steve pulls the binoculars from his face and feels maybe every stage of grief as he hands them off to Dustin. "Mike's right, we're wasting the night here. If Y/N liked me, we wouldn't be camped outside Enzo's right now under the world's most threadbare throw blanket."

Mike clears his throat, and Steve knows he must have sounded pathetic when he, at odds with the cold indifference he usually sports, says, "I mean… People are complicated. El broke up with me last summer because my grandma died."

"That is not why," Max says. She sounds like she wants to be mad but can't manage it. She sounds about as happy as she has all year, so Steve decides maybe the night isn't totally wasted.

"Your grandma died?" Lucas asks.

"No."

"He just grabbed Y/N's hand," Dustin announces, one eye pressed to the binoculars.

His head is smushed against Lucas', who peers into the binoculars with his opposite eye and hums thoughtfully. "More of a caress than a grab."

Steve snatches the binoculars. "Give me that," he demands.

"You still haven't explained the spying," Max says.

Steve finds you in the restaurant. Your hand is extended across the table. You're twisting the rings around Eddie's fingers, saying something he doesn't have the talent to lip read.

"I thought that," he starts, morose, heart stomped on with every second you spend fawning over Munson's rock star hands, "if Y/N likes me, the date would be a total failure."

"Right, like halfway through the date Y/N was gonna have this amazing epiphany and come crashing through the doors, like a rom-com," Robin continues.

"That's stupid," Mike says.

Steve agrees with him. It's stupid to expect you to throw away a good chance at happiness and keep a candle burning for him instead when he's never showed any interest in you before. But, in his defense, he didn't know he was allowed.

"Whatever," he sighs. "I'm sick of thinking about it. Let's just go home."

There's an awkward silence then where everyone feels sorry for him and nobody knows what to say.

"Plenty of fi-" Lucas starts, voice lilted up in question until he's socked hard in the arm. He clears his throat. "Plenty of time left. On the clock. We can go get food?"

"Steve needs ice cream," Robin says cheerily. He scrubs his face until his eyes hurt as she continues. "He needs to eat through the heartbreak. Ice cream, pizza, moon cakes, cheese balls." She turns to him fully. "I'm really sorry your love life is so sad, but look on the bright side! You now have an excuse to watch Splash on repeat."

"Oh, goodie," he says.

He gets a round of sympathetic shoulder pats and then everyone starts to pack Dustin's spy equipment and the snacks away. There's a pounding headache between Steve's eyes and his back pops in three places as he stands. He's getting too old for shit like this. I need to go home and sleep for twelve hours, he decides. And have a self flagellating bubble bath. With a toaster.

"Shit, they're coming out."

They dive back behind the bush. Steve locks eyes with Robin. She holds her hand over her mouth as the door to Enzo's creaks open.

"What size are you?" Eddie's asking.

"I don't know. Do I have to wear the shirt?"

A handsome laugh. "No, you don't have to. It's just for club morale. Plus, it's pretty sick."

"It's not sick, it's cute."

"No, no." He's being so nice it makes Steve feel terrible for wishing bad things upon him. "Not bad sick. Good sick, like awesome."

"Right," you laugh.

Robin starts to lift her head. Steve shakes his vehemently, begging her not to. She does anyways, her eyes shifting up over the green hedge line. He tugs her shoulder urgently.

Robin starts to push against his face with her hands. It's increasingly difficult to fight her silently, especially when she smacks him straight in the soft part of his nose.

He winces and covers his face with both hands. God, are you there? He thinks urgently. It's me, Steve.

Robin gasps.

Five sets of eyes whip to her and Steve yanks her hard to the ground, covering her mouth with his hand. She licks his palm and Steve throws himself back, sprawled on the ground with his elbows stinging, his heart hammering because there's no way you didn't hear all that. He waits to be caught.

"I'll get it printed for you. Everyone has one. Like a uniform."

"Thanks for dinner," you say.

"You're welcome. I'll see you on Friday, yeah?"

"Yes. Thank you, Eddie."

Your voices stop. Steve lets himself collapse onto the sidewalk beneath, hair crushed under his neck. Your date must've gone pretty fucking well if you're going on another.

Robin's face above him. Her hair hangs down, blocking slices of her face from view.

"Don't sulk, Steve."

He glares at her. "You heard that, right? They're going on another date. Leave me here to die."

Robin's beaming. "Steve."

"It's too late. I should've- I don't know why I thought this was a good idea. I'm a loser."

"Could you stop feeling sorry for yourself for a second?" she asks.

"What's the point?"

"Steve," Robin laughs. "They didn't kiss." He swallows around the dryness in his mouth. "They didn't kiss," she repeats. "Eddie tried it, but…"

"Total head turn," Dustin says, the top of his head touching Robin's as he comes to stand over Steve, his shoes at Steve's shoulder.

"Doesn't mean anything. They're still going on another date," Steve says.

"Dummy," Max says, joining the two hovering above him.

Mike and Lucas join soon after. "You're definitely a loser-" Mike says.

"Dude."

"If you don't try," Mike finishes.

Steve looks up into the circle of their faces. They look super weird from this angle. Too happy. It's never a good thing when they're all smiling the way that they are. Hope in this family turns into stupid decisions.

"The head turn was on purpose?" he asks.

He's crushed by their hesitation.

"Well, it's Y/N," Robin sighs. She rolls her eyes at his expression. "Nah, I'm messing with you. It was definitely on purpose."

He covers his face with his hands and stares at his friend's through parted fingers. "Shit."

A ruckus of laughter and smiles as Robin offers a hand to pull him up off of the ground. "Alright, come on, dingus, we have work to do."

"Work?" he asks.

"T-minus six days and… twenty two hours until their second date," Dustin says, checking his watch. "Six days to make a move, Harrington. Can you do it?"

It only takes him three.

Saturday and Sunday are spent feeling sorry for himself and sick with worry that he can't make a move or that his move won't be reciprocated.

But then he sees you on Monday and can't really stand it anymore. You'd turned your head. You hadn't let Eddie kiss you.

Steve needs to know if you'll let him.

You're all in blue today with your eyebrows pinched up, looking sad. He knows from experience that you aren't sad at all, only thinking, sitting on the hood of his car with your legs pulled up. You're demure. You're probably an angel.

"How long have you been out here?" he asks, coming to a stop in front of you.

"I'm too afraid to come see you," you say. It's more honest than Steve had been expecting. Certainly more straightforward than you tend to be.

"You're seeing me now."

You look up into his face. The sun behind you, your face in shadow and your hair kissed by golden light, you open your hands over your thighs. Steve thinks of Lovers Lake, the Victoria flowers bobbing on the surface. Green, soft cups over dark water.

"I'm seeing you," you say.

You twist your fingers together and the lily pad turns to a water lily, your fingertips a tight bud.

You're nervous.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and leans back slightly to take you in.

He lifts his chin at you. "How did your date go?" he asks.

"It was okay. Eddie's a nice guy. He's… interesting."

"Yeah?"

You hum. "Why are you asking me?"

"We're friends. I want to know if you had fun."

You shrug your shoulders and turn your haze to the hood of the BMW, scratching your nail over an imperfection he can't see.

Steve's unnerved to see you so still. He waits for your legs to kick or for your hands to fidget, to wear holes into the hem of your shirt.

"I don't think we're friends, Stevie," you say finally.

He actually feels mad. It shocks him, but he does, and he won't shy away from it. "Why did you ask Munson on a date?"

"He can drive. He's nice to girls. He's good looking." You stop scratching but don't look at him. Your ankle swings towards his car, stops before it hits the front bumper.

Your answers hurt his feelings, little pinpricks of annoyance? Jealousy? He doesn't know what he feels. He was hoping you'd say something reassuring.

He kicks himself quickly. You're not going to reassure him because you don't know he needs to be reassured. You don't know anything because he hasn't told you.

You mumble something too low for him to hear.

"What?" he asks gently. "I can't hear you."

"I asked him because I thought if-" You stop. Steve watches your hesitation turn to distress and steps forward to take your wringing hands into his.

"Don't do that," he says quietly.

You stop rubbing your wrists. "I'm trying to tell you."

"I know you are. Don't wind yourself up over it. Tell me slowly." He doesn't like this expression you're wearing. So unlike you. He wants to see your quiet face again, your features settled, your eyes bright. He bends at the waist to talk to you. "What did you think?"

"I thought if anybody in the world could make you jealous, it would be Eddie."

He works your clenched fingers open, rubbing his thumbs over the small creases in your skin. His heart thrums in his chest.

He smiles at you. "Now why do you wanna make me jealous?" he asks fondly, a hint of smugness creeping in.

You raise your eyes to his and squeeze his hands. "Steve," you say pleadingly. "Don't be cruel."

"About what?" he asks, his eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

"I know that I'm- I'm stupid, and distracted and-and I miss things, and-"

"Hey. That's not true."

You overflow.

"No, it is, it's true." You pull your hands out of his grip and cross them over your torso. Your eyes squint in efforts to stop the tears he can see gathering from spilling over, and your mouth twists up into a bitter smile. "Everyone says so. I- I don't know why I thought you would like me back."

"You like me?" he asks weakly.

You stop. "I thought you knew."

Steve's eyes flit in disbelief from your eyes to your lips, wondering if you've truly just said what you said.

Fine, whatever, he can be brave too. "If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks.

The upset wanes from your face and is replaced by a lighter kind of lovely. You pout. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he tries again.

"I don't know what the right answer is."

"I could…" Steve taps under your chin with his knuckle and lifts your face to his, eyes skipping between yours, the circle of your pupils dilated and shining. "I could never be cruel with you."

You wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

Understanding moves between you. He can pinpoint two realisations on your face as they happen. The first, that he isn't toying with you. That Steve had no idea how you felt, and that he hadn't known you were trying to make him jealous. The second, that you're about to be kissed.

"You were right," he says, his thumb sliding over the apple of your cheek.

"About what?" you ask, your eyes restless, clicking over each of his features in turn and getting caught on his lips.

He leans in, your mouths an inch apart. "Your date with Munson – I was jealous. But it's not about him. It's about you. You could've," he stops to laugh, bringing his second hand to the curve of your neck, "could've gone on a date with Keith and I would've been sick with it."

"Really?" you ask.

"Mm-hm," he hums lightly.

Your eyes close. Steve hesitates still, can't believe that he hasn't moved in, but he needs to say it.

"If I tried to kiss you, would you let me?" he asks again, voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yeah, I'd let you."

His hands tremble with anticipation, a long time spent longing. He moves in, his ears pricked at the sound of your sweet inhale. A hitch, the same sound you make when you sleep beside him. The same sound you make when you're dreaming.

He spreads his hand over your thigh and kisses you.

Your lips are soft as a downy feather beneath his. You're shy, moving back as he moves forward, pliant under his guiding. He pets the juncture of your neck soothingly and pulls back fast, a short, chaste kiss. His lips burn.

"Again?" you ask.

He wades in carefully, worried to overwhelm you. You're like a wave cresting sand, falling back to push forward quickly. He's so elated to have his kiss returned that he sighs into you, palm spread wide over the dough of your thigh and squeezing carefully. He can feel your smile grow, your lips parting with it, the kiss inadvertently deepening.

You pull back. "I'm sorry."

His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. "For what?" he asks, rubbing your thigh.

"Boys don't like it when you slip them the tongue on the first kiss."

He blinks owlishly and has to step away from you to stop from laughing in your face, never at you, but laugh all the same. He smothers it with a cough and then doesn't bother, chuckling as he stands between your legs and throws his arms around you in a steel-armed hug.

You giggle and bring your forearms to the back of his head. Your wrist craned, you sift your fingertips through his hair, nails running over his scalp fleetingly.

"Right," he says. "Duh."

"I remembered," you say, sounding infinitely pleased with yourself.

He feels the heat of your body sink into his and wants to scream. The indescribable heat of your kiss plays over his chest, snaking tendrils. He feels weightless.

"The second kiss though," he says. Strictly informative. "They don't mind it, the second time."

He moves his head away from yours to meet your eyes. They're lit with mirth.

"Don't mind it, huh?" you ask knowingly.

His cheeks ache with a grin as he pulls you back in.

"You know, I saw you spying outside Enzo's," you say much later, your head tucked into Steve's chest.

He didn't know but he's not surprised. "Gonna cancel your date?" he asks.

"What date?"

"On Friday?"

"That isn't a date. I joined Hellfire Club."

Oh my god, he thinks. Eddie fucking Munson. "You're gonna have to kiss me again," he says morosely. He cheers up considerably quickly as you lift your chin, beaming.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

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sanakimohara · 4 months

Text

“Tongue Tied” H.J.

{ MDNI } [ SEMI PROOFREAD ]

++++++

Jisung is so cute when he laughs and you get giddy hearing it but oh does it hurt to know he can’t be yours. You sit alone, mind running rampant with less than pure thoughts you’ve had about him, and not a single person suspects why you’re so quiet.

You’re always silent, everyone knows that, so you sit and imagine scenario after scenario.

You keep from staring at him by occupying yourself with a game on your phone. It works for a while but at some point Jisung sitting near you, talking up a storm as usual, and barely acknowledging your presence.

That is until he accidentally bumps into you. It’s not on purpose. Just a little nudge against the back of your head. You wince, not because he’s hurt you, but because you weren’t expecting to be this close to him all of a sudden.

Jisung smiles at you before apologizing, “My bad. I didn’t see you there. We good?” He holds out his hand, suggesting a fist bump to reconcile his mistake. You don’t say anything, just flash him a small smile before bumping a closed fist against his, and just like that he turns around to resume his conversation. You frown at the loss of attention and decide to leave your spot on the couch and go to the bathroom instead.

You want a minute alone, just to think, and maybe unwind yourself to get through the rest of the night with your sanity still intact.

Jisung is just…he drives you crazy…and you can’t do a thing about it.

You’d risk being hated by everyone, people would question your morality, and he’d definitely reject you. If locking yourself in a bathroom to get off on the thought of him was what you had to do to keep things the way they are now…it wasn’t a problem for you.

So, you stand, slipping past everyone towards the farthest bathroom. It’s upstairs and you doubt anyone will come looking for you up there. No one ever notices your absences in the first place. Jisung did though.

The moment you stood up from the couch he was leaning against his attention shifted from the conversation to your empty seat. He’d ask himself why you would leave, not aloud, but a singular thought he keeps to himself. His focus would be disconnected, trying to come up with reasons you’d disappear, and he comes to the conclusion it’s his fault. Maybe it really bothered you when he accidentally hit you. Maybe you felt even more alone when he continued to speak to someone else after apologizing.

These tiny assumptions about your behavior made him feel guilty and so Jisung excused himself, “I’m gonna go use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He followed the path he’d seen you take upstairs, jogging up the steps, and heading down the hall to see which room you were in. Not his old one. Nor the master bedroom. You weren’t in the loft either. So that left the bathroom.

He hesitated to check there but eventually decided it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. He was about to knock, but instantly froze when he heard your soft moans and trembling whispers.

You were so quiet, barely mumbling louder than the running faucet you’d turned on to muffle any noise you make that might be heard outside. That little diversion doesn’t work too well since he’s inches away from the door, unable to speak, and even less capable of moving as he eavesdrops on you.

“Jisung…” you moan shakily, face burning up as the sound of his name edges you closer to your high. He bites his lip, having to shut his eyes to keep from reacting impulsively to your delicious little sounds. You, of all people were saying his name, chanting it between breathless sighs and strained whimpers. His cock twitched to life, growing firm in his jeans as he listened more closely.

You slid down to the floor, two fingers deep inside your cunt that was dripping cum at this point. Your clit was slick and ever so sensitive each time your thumb circled it in slow repetition.

You were sure his tongue could do so much better than your small fingers. His hands firmly gripping your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as he needed to have unrestricted access to your count while eating you out.

Fuck, you swore his dark eyes would look so gorgeous staring up at you when your cum flowed onto his tongue. He wouldn’t hesitate to lap up the mess you make, smiling proudly when he spits on your overstimulated cunt.

Jisung is always so chaotic, charming, and easy to get along with. Just the thought of him being shamelessly filthy with you is a sin you indulge in.

He wouldn’t care about the disassociated look in your eyes when he sits up, admiring the sight of your fucked out state before rising to his feet, and fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You whine in pain but he doesn’t care. “You’re okay sweetheart,” he reassured you, taking his belt off and setting it on the counter before unzipping his pants. A deep sigh rumbles in his chest as the confines keeping his erection hidden are loosened. You help him, expertly tugging his cock free from his boxers and pants.

Jisung bites back a groan feeling your bare hands wrap around his shaft. Your touch is soft and your fingers are still damp from touching yourself. A perfect combination. He can’t help the smile on his face as he stares down at you, on your knees, kitten licking his leaking tip with the most lustful look he’s ever seen.

You lick at his cock like candy, savoring how salty his precum is, and pumping his cock for more when it’s gone. Jisung leans back, dragging you with him, and bucking his hips towards your face for more. He’s not ready to force himself into your mouth, no, he wants to see how long you’ll tease him despite dreaming of tasting his cock for god knows how long.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let me fuck your face…” he pressed the tip to your pouty lips, a longing look in his eyes as he waits for you to oblige him. You do without a warning, deep throating him in one go.

He nearly moans too loud, head reeling back as the warmth of your mouth envelops his dick generously. It’s heaven on earth for him. Your delicate tongue swirling up and over his length in intricate patterns and your hands fondle his base gently with every bob of your head.

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t jealous of the other men who’ve had the honor of getting head from you.

A strangled chuckle leaves his chest as you deep throat him again, inviting his tip to abuse the back of your throat, and each time you’d moan like it was a personal reward for you.

Jisung looked back down at you, drops of sweat forming on his temple from the unrelenting heat coursing through him, and it was no help to him that you looked perfectly in love with him fucking your face. Drool trickled down your chin, tears glossing your half lidded eyes, and your face a shade of light pink.

He could only admire you for so long before his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure.

You moaned on his dick, vibrating it with pressure, and then you felt him twitch. He was close and you were eager to feel his release coat your tongue and slide down your throat. “Fuck…fuck you’re so…gooooddd Ahm…” he moaned quietly, whimpering in utter bliss, and struggling to find any other words to praise you.

Your heart swells with pride hearing Jisung’s compliment and you take extra care in sucking him off then. Your tongue circled his tip slower and your hands pump his base faster.

The overstimulation paired with the impending height of his climax has him growling and groaning like a touch starved man .

You think it’s so cute.

“Want you…need you to take it alll…” he stutters, nearly pleading for you to swallow his seed as it pours out into your dainty mouth.

There’s so much of it, warm, salty, and thick. It flows down your chin but you keep milking his tip with your tongue for more as you swallow it down greedily.

You’ve got him shaking at this point, whining in immense pleasure, and it’s so intoxicating. Jisung has no words, only a stunned expression when you finally remove your lips from his cock with a soft ‘pop’ a string of cum and saliva connects you to him and you lick it up with a content smile.

“M’ sorry if I did too much…I’ve just wanted to do that for a while,” you break the silence with a genuine apology and a heartfelt smile.

He regains his composure and starts to fix himself up, shaking his head in disbelief from what just happened.

Jisung doesn’t regret it though and he lets you know that with a pleased smirk on his face. “No need to apologize. I needed it anyway and…” his gaze trailed over your body, dark eyes hazing over with lust again when they met yours, “I have a few things I want to do to you too…”

Your face heats up and you have to look away from him as he leans down to caress your face with one hand. “I want to keep you as my little secret alright? You’d like that too, right sweetheart?” Jisung kisses you, knowing you’ll say yes, knowing you’ll chase his lips for another kiss.

He’ll let you have it, dominating your tongue with his, and only pulling away when you’re panting for air.

+++++++

I wrote this for a crush a while back but it fit Jisung so well that I decided to tweak it to feed all the Jisung stans 🖤 hope you enjoy it…

BONUS CONTENT +

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ferrstappen · 11 months

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hi!!! could you write something about max and reader dating and its winter break and reader gets sick. basically its just cute fluff of max taking care of her. thank you <333

this is great because its cold af (where I live) and I'm sick (both physically and mentally <3)

chicken soup l Max Verstappen blurb

You denied it.

Your brain tried denying the swelling of your throat, the heaviness of your limbs, the dizziness.

It made sense after visiting Max's family during winter break; one of the kids was sick, which meant Victoria woke up with a runny nose, Sophie with a headache, telling you and Max to go back home a bit earlier since neither Max nor you had any symptoms.

If only... the moment the small plane landed in Nice, your legs carried you to the tiny restroom, emptying your stomach, your head was spinning so bad you didn't notice Max holding your hair and rubbing circles on your back. at least, the best he could on the restricted space.

It didn't take two seconds when his phone vibrated, his sister letting him know the kids were now nauseous and dizzy.

No shit.

Max drove slower than usual, not wanting the bumps on the road to upset your head or stomach, constantly turning his head to see your eyes closed, breathing not so smoothly.

In his head, he made a plan for everything he'd do once they got home: ask if you wanted to take a shower, helping you change, choosing the best pajamas, defrosting some chicken so he could make you soup, remembering if any of you had bought some chamomile tea.

That's exactly what he did. You probably weren't aware you leaned on Max after getting out of the car, your body touching the bed and falling asleep in minutes.

It was dark when you woke up, head still pounding, forehead still warm, throat still closed, but the smell of soup was enough to drag your feet from the bedroom to the kitchen.

It was empty, no sight of Max, but a tray was already arranged with a bowl and his not-so-secret mix of green tea, honey and lemon, just a couple of teaspoons he always said, so the lemon wouldn't be too harsh, just enough to soothe the pain.

You could cry from the sight of everything Max did in a short amount of time, now you were realizing you weren't wearing the jeans and cardigan, but fluffy white pajama pants and oversized, navy blue Red Bull hoodie with his scent.

Then, you heard his voice. He was speaking with someone else, probably streaming or something, but the need to thank him was enough to open the door and carefully walking towards his seat, making sure to not show on the camera frame.

Pssst.

His head turned around and his eyes softened, arms reached for you instantly, making space so you could seat on his lap, your legs dangling over his legs and your face hidden on his face.

user1: i am so soft for them like... she is wearing red bull merch and he instantly reached out for her

user2: does he realize he's muted but still streaming???

user3: HE IS PLACING HER HAIR UNDER HER EAR I AM SO DONE WHEN IS IT MY TURN?????!!!!

"How are you feeling, schatz?" Max placed his hand on your forehead, forehead wrinkling after noticing it was still warm.

"I'm better, but you are definitely getting sick as well," You replied and Max laughed, body slightly shivering from the feeling of your breath on his neck.

"Good thing there's soup for both of us," Max kissed the top of your hair, telling you he was going to say goodbye and end the stream.

He didn't pay attention to the comments or anything, just unmuting himself and saying goodbye, carrying you to the bedroom and placing you on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before going to the kitchen.

"No, stay here," you told him, almost sounding like a toddler, even stretching your arms so he'd join you. "We can have soup later, when after your stomach starts feeling funny"

Max found his usual spot on the bed, letting his body cover yours from behind, trying to keep you as warm as possible, tightly gripping the duvet, noticing the little hairs standing up with the familiar feeling of his breathing on your neck.

He was definitely getting sick, but it'd be worth it.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen au #max verstappen x you #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff

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mountainficss · 2 months

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i had a request for a dilf!seungcheol a while back ;) for @lalalalavv

dilf!seungcheol who you’d meet in a bar one night after a long day of work. he’d be sitting alone at the bar, his tie loosened and his hair slightly tousled from a tough shift. you’d find him so handsome, and would have no troubles slinking into the barstool next to him. he’d notice your presence and glance over, looking you up and down slowly. you’d introduce yourself and he’d smirk, taking a sip of his drink as you shamelessly check him out. he’d take in your cute work outfit, listening to your sweet voice as you ask him for his name. “it’s seungcheol,” he’d smile, swirling the ice around in his drink. his sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, the sight of his exposed forearms making you lightheaded. “well, seungcheol,” you’d purr, “feel like taking me home tonight?” he’d let out an amused exhale, looking down at his empty glass and tracing the rim absentmindedly with his finger. “i’m too old for you,” he’d reply simply, a sad smile adorning his perfect face. you’d shoot him a glare, grabbing his tie and yanking it towards you. you’d force him to look at you, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “i wouldn’t give a shit if you were a grandpa, seungcheol.” you’d huff, rolling your eyes at him. “what’s the matter? do you fuck like one too or something?” you’d banter, trying your hardest to get him to give in. he wouldn’t reply, he’d just laugh and wonder how he stumbled across someone so unique.

dilf!seungcheol who would take you back to his place, one hand on your thigh the entire drive there. his thumb would rub circles across your clothed skin, and even such a minimal touch would send jolts of electricity through you. he’d lead you into his apartment building, taking you all the way up to the penthouse level. not even seconds after you enter would you both practically pounce on each other, both stumbling around as seungcheol does his best to lead you to his bedroom between kisses. you’d both flop down onto his bed in a frenzy, a tangle of limbs and lips pressing against each other. you’d rip off each other’s clothes swiftly, and seungcheol would have you underneath him in a matter of seconds. you’d both gasp as he first slides into your heat, the feeling of pleasure almost overwhelming. he’d bottom out, pulling out almost completely and slowly thrusting back in. he’d take his time with you, sensually rutting into you as you wrap your legs around him. his pace would quicken, drawing loud moans from the both of you. the alcohol in your system would make everything more sensitive, feeling your high approaching quickly. it wouldn’t take long before you were tightening around him, cumming around his cock and tipping him over the edge at the same time. your twitching hole would make his orgasm last longer, practically milking him dry as his strong thrusts slowed to shallow ones. he’d pull out carefully and flop down beside you, listening to the sound of your labored breathing and watching your chest rise and fall with every breath. he’d study your flushed cheeks, but would be snapped out of his daze once he sees you sitting up and rolling off the bed. “i’d better not overstay my welcome,” you’d muse, shooting him a timid smile as you attempt to collect your scattered clothes from the floor. “you definitely don’t fuck like a grandpa, seungcheol.” you’d joke, looking over your shoulder at him and laughing to yourself. seungcheol would sit up, admiring how pretty you are and frowning at your words. “please stay,” he’d plead as you turn to face him, your clothes still piled in your arms. “you aren’t overstaying. i like having you here.” you’d grin at his words, taking a step towards his bed. “even though we just met earlier?” you’d question playfully, receiving a shy nod from him. you’d chuckle to yourself, dropping your clothes on the floor again as you slip your bare body next to his. “okay. i’ll stay.”

dilf!seungcheol who would stay up late with you, pulling you close to his chest and running his fingers through your hair. he’d tell you about his children, two beautiful girls, and would share his story about his tough divorce 2 years ago. after the divorce he’d never gotten around to dating again, too consumed by his career and too discouraged from the split. he’d confess that you’d been the first person he was genuinely interested in, so when you asked him to take you home he just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. you’d smile to yourself, imagining how precious seungcheol would look playing with his two daughters. “maybe i’ll get to meet them in the future,” you’d hum, hearing seungcheol chuckle behind you. “if you decide to stick around for a while, i’d love to introduce you.” he’d reply quietly, pressing fleeting pecks onto your exposed neck. you’d lean into his touch, sighing at the feeling of his plush lips against your skin. the thought of seeing seungcheol again would make your stomach flutter, secretly hoping that this won’t be a one-time thing. you’d crane your head around at an awkward angle to reach him, locking your lips with his and grinning into the kiss. “maybe i will.”

taglist: @imprettyweird , @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @c-hanniehae , @wonvsmile

#thoughts #seventeen #seventeen smut #smut #svt smut #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #seventeen scoups #scoups

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shinybearnerd · 10 months

Text

"Notes of Chaos"

Hi everybody!

Since Good Omens season 2 is almost here, I wanted to share some of my ff with you.

The pairing is not between Crowley and Aziraphale, even tho there may be one of them in the future. They are so cute together and I ship them, but I think I'm not that good at capturing their ineffable love. Idk, I hope it makes sense...

This is my first time publishing a smut ff. I'm a little nervous lmao.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Let me know if that's the case!

Pair: Crowley x Gn!reader

Words: 2,6k

Genre: Fluff, smut +18

Story: After the Armageddon, Crowley has been kicked out of his apartment and now he's living in his Bentley. You and Crowley are good friends, so you propose he stays at your place for the moment. He accepts, even tho he's reluctant. Days pass and you and the demon are coming to get closed and closed until one night, at a party...

-Engish is not my first language. So I'm sorry if there are any mistakes-

Every person that has known y/n would describe them as someone that has an infectious smile and bright eyes that light up even at the littlest thing.

They had always been fascinated by the idea of supernatural creatures, and as soon as they learned that Crowley was a demon, they were drawn to him in a strange and intriguing way. Despite their human nature, y/n was open-minded enough to accept Crowley for who he was.

Ever since the demon had entered their life, they had discovered an unexpected complicity with him.

After weeks of living together, Crowley had become accustomed to y/n's company and their eccentricity. Though at first, he'd been reluctant to accept their offer of hospitality, he'd gradually come to trust them and realized that he couldn't have found a better person, apart from Aziraphale of course, to share time with than them.

One evening, Y/n enthusiastically approached Crowley while he was immersed in one of the many blogs about plants that the demon followed. <<Hey, some friends are planning a party this night. Five minutes from here. Would you like to come with me? >> asked, trying to hide the excitement.

Crowley lifted his eyes from the phone and looked at Y/n, considering their proposal. Initially, the prospect of a party didn't seem very appealing to the demon, who preferred to spend the evenings alone or with a few people he felt comfortable with. But then, a thought crossed his mind: perhaps, this would be an opportunity to get closer to them.

After a short pause, Crowley nodded. <<Yeah, sure. It'll be fun.>> Y/n eyes immediately lightened up as they embraced him enthusiastically. <<Crowley, you'll love them! And I'm sure they'll love you too!>>

In the evening, the two walked towards the meeting place. Crowley followed Y/n. As they passed through the neighbourhood, the lights of the adjacent houses cast a welcoming atmosphere on the whole street.

When they reached their destination, the music and the sound of laughter greeted them. The party was on an elegant terrace, above a very chich club, with upbeat music and some people already laughing and dancing.

Crowley noticed that Y/n was like a fish in water, in the midst of people, while he preferred to remain cold. Still, Y/n's presence offered him a sense of comfort he'd never experienced before.

<<Come, Crowley, I want you to meet my people!>> They insisted, gently taking his arm and leading him.

The demon found himself in a various circle of people: there were artists, musicians and people with eccentric clothing.

And if before he felt out of place, at that moment he felt at home.

He left himself carried away by the festive atmosphere and found himself laughing and joking with guests who weren't Luna or her friends. Maybe it was the alcohol. Yes, it was definitely the alcohol.

As the evening wore on, Crowley realized how gorgerous and charming Y/n looked as they danced lightly. He was beginning to love the way their eyes sparkled with a particular light when they talked about something that fascinated them or when they talked to their friends… The way their nose crunched when smiling or laughing…

The hours passed, and the party continued in its fervency.

Crowley and Y/n found themselves sitting against the railing of the parapet. The bright colour of the lights created a magical and intimate atmosphere in some way.

There was no need to talk much. They seemed to understand each other even without many words. <<Crowley>> Y/n said, placing their hand lightly on his. <<Thank you for coming with me tonight. It's nice to have you here.>> The demon smiled. A sweet one that he rarely showed to others. <<Yes. I'm happy too. It was a... pleasant evening.>>

They were smiling at each other when suddenly the DJ spoke, telling everybody that the night was almost ending and that he was putting on the last songs.

Immediately, Y/n took Crowley by the arm, dragging him into the dance floor. The demon didn't know whether to feel bothered or amused by their gesture. He chose the second option.

The music was loud, but that didn't seem to bother Y/N, who danced carefree and sensually, as if there was no one around them.

Crowley found himself mesmerized by their presence. His ancient and mischievous soul recognized Y/n's attraction and excitement, and the thought made him smile. He even thought that they would have been a heaven of a demon.

He let himself go to the music, allowing Y/n to lead him on an intoxicating experience.

The evening had revealed a side of them that Crowley had never seen before: a wild and charming person, capable of awakening new sensations in him.

With an amused smile, Crowley followed Y/n's movements, letting the music surround them both. He no longer cared about the outside world or his worries. The only thought that mattered to him was sharing that moment with them.

At one point, they moved even closer to Crowley, their bodies almost touching. The heat and electricity between them seemed to increase. It wasn't just the music that moved them, but a mutual attraction that was growing more and more.

In a playful tone, Y/n whispered in Crowley's ear over the noise of the music. <<You know... we could wreak some havoc together! That would be fun.>>

Crowley smiled, realizing that they were playing with him, but at the same time seeing a small spark of truth in their suggestion.

<<We could, but you know, I've spent millennia wreaking it… Maybe I need a break, gorgeous.>> he replied winking behind his black glasses.

Y/n laughed, looking down as they resumed letting the music wrap around them. Trying to hide their blushed cheeks.

Something in hearing their laughter snapped in him and, without them realizing it, the demon slipped behind, grabbing them with one hand, which he held on their stomach, and pulling Y/n towards himself, continuing to dance.

Although Y/n seemed to never stop laughing, they felt their breath short for a few seconds. Crowley's touch made them shiver, but not in the way they expected. It was an electrifying sensation, a combination of awe and pleasure.

They turned to him, meeting his leering gaze, and their heart started pounding even faster. <<Crowley.>> they whispered, almost out of breath. The demon answered them with a knowing smile, moving closer. << Sounds to me like you need some guidance, Y/n. I can help you with the pacing if you like.>>

Y/n smiled. And immediately after they let themself be completely caught up in Crowley's grip. They felt his strong, warm hands on their skin as his rhythm joined in an intense, sensual dance. The heartbeat quickened the breathing of both mixed.

As they danced together, Y/n felt the heat of Crowley's body against theirs, a magnetic energy that seemed to grow stronger and stronger. It was as if their souls touched, opening the door to a deep and mysterious understanding. The more they danced, the more Crowley closed them, letting themselves be overwhelmed by their aphrodisiac smell; the more Y/n grinded and danced against Crowley. There were no words, just the music enveloping them, and their emotions melding together.

Y/n felt like they were in a trance, fascinated by the way the demon treated them. His touch was electrifying and everything they needed in their life.

Crowley, on the other hand, was surprised about how Y/n could push his emotions so high. In every movement, in every touch, he felt the pull of their power, humanity and irresistible energy. He had gotten used to being cold and calculating, but with Y/n, everything seemed different.

They continued to dance, letting themselves be guided by the music and the intensity of the moment, until they felt the demon's crotch behind them, letting out a sigh of pleasure. Which didn't go unnoticed by the demon, who gripped them closer. He leaned closer to them, leaning into Y/n's ear, grinding more. He spoke with a husky and amused whisper. <<Do you like dancing with me, my dear? >> Y/n moaned softly. << Yes...>>

Crowley's hands trailed up Y/n's hips as his sensual movements made them feel alive like never before. It was as if the whole universe was concentrated at that moment. The demon's hands squeezed them tighter, their bodies moving in unison. The dance floor felt like their kingdom, where they could express themselves without fear or judgment.

The music surrounded them more, leading them into a whirlwind of emotions and desire. Every movement, every touch, was filled with passion and mystery. Suddenly, it stopped. But, even though the song ended, the connection between the demon and the human was still strong.

They stopped to stare into each other's eyes, not saying a word. The short breaths were due to the movement and desire they felt towards each other. Crowley was breathing heavily too, looking at them through his glasses with an impenetrable gaze.

<<Follow me. >> he ordered, breaking the silence.

Y/n didn't have to hear it again. They let the demon grab their wrist and followed him, slipping through the crowd that had resumed dancing.

As soon as they got out, Crowley pushed Y/n against the nearest wall, approaching them with an intense expression in his eyes. Their lips met passionately, hungry for each other. Each kiss was a promise of pleasure and togetherness.

As Crowley brushed his hands against Y/n's skin, the contact ignited a fire that spread throughout their bodies. They felt the heat emanating from the demon, an intense and overwhelming feeling that made them want him even more.

Y/n's hands hooked on the collar of Crowley's jacket, pulling him closer. They could feel the hardness of his muscles against their body, and the energy emanating from him made them shiver with excitement.

Their breaths mingled, quickened by the desire that burned them from within. There was no more room for inhibitions, just the will to indulge in an uncontrollable passion.

As the kiss deepened and deepened, Crowley moved his hands over the curves of Y/n's body, exploring them with desire and reverence. His fingers traced lines down their back, leaving a trail of fire on their sensitive skin.

Y/n moaned in pleasure, responding to Crowley's touches with smooth movements of their body. It was as if they were in perfect harmony, dancing to an ancient tune of passion and desire.

The pressure of the demon's body against theirs intensified, and Y/n could feel their arousal spreading now. It was an explosion of sensations, a shiver that shot through their spines and spread through their entire being.

As the kiss broke off, leaving a line of saliva that united them, their gazes met once again. There was a promise of lust and affection in those golden eyes. An intensity that made their heart beat even faster. <<Crowley...>> whispered Y/n, their voice full of desire. The demon smiled at them. A smile full of mischief and affection that only they could see. Y/n bit their lower lip, their body vibrating with a desire that was impossible to ignore. <<Crowley, please... Fuck me.>>

Without saying a word, Crowley took Y/n's face in their hands and kissed them again hard and passionately. It was as if they were two souls on fire, consuming each other. Crowley's hands moved impatiently, exploring Y/n's body with uncontrollable hunger, starting to free both of the encumbrances of pants/and dresses.

Their breathing was irregular, their moans mixing in the night air with the muffled noise of distant music. It was a symphony of desire, a crescendo of sensations that carried them higher and higher.

The demon picked them up, pressing them against the wall, and Y/n wrapped their legs around him, welcoming him. Crowley began to playfully rub his hard erection against Y/n's core, who moaned impatiently. A sly smile was on his lips. <<Crowley... please!>> <<You know what to do, sweet cheecks.>> replied grinding harder against them. Y/n tightened their grip on the shoulders of the demon, who watched them in amusement. <<Crowley-… fuck. Please, fuck me hard. Ruin me! Ruin other people for me. >> With a sudden movement, Crowley thrust all of him hard, causing them to let out a strangled cry of pleasure. <<Fuck. You're so deliciously tight! ...Can I move?>> <<I'll kill you if you don't!>>

Their bodies moved in unison, dancing in a timeless, erotic choreography. Each movement was a promise of pleasure, a celebration of the intense connection between them. The more the demon moved, the more the human felt they were about to come.

As Crowley's trusts quickened, Y/n understand that he was close too. They could hear him gasping and grunting in pleasure, feeling Y/n's core squeezing him just in the right way. He tilted his head backwards, moaning and grunting into the free air as he had his way with Y/n.

<<Oh, my- fucking god! Yes, baby! Just like that!>> The blasphemy and the tone of their voice were his last straw. His movement quickened more, while his pushes became harder.

They soon came together: Crowley feeling his cock sweetly being milked by his lover's soft walls, and Y/n feeling his warm seed coating and filling them.

With their bodies still vibrating with passion, Y/n and Crowley remained embraced against the wall, wrapped up in each other and seeking the breath and the sweetness in each other's embrace. Their skins touched delicately as if they wanted to keep every spark of that magical moment.

With the accelerated beat of their hearts in the background, they exchanged an intense kiss, full of gratitude and complicity. Their warm skins pressed together as heavy breathing filled the air around them. It was as if time had stopped, leaving room only for the present, just for the two of them.

Crowley continued to support Y/n in his arms, his golden eyes fixed on their y/e/c. His hands caressed them delicately, almost as if he were touching a precious work of art. They felt every touch of the demon on their skin, an electric hiss that made them shiver with pleasure. He seemed fascinated by every inch of the human's body as if he were exploring an unknown and fascinating world. Every nuance, every curve, seemed to be etched into his mind like a symphony of beauty.

<<You're so gorgeous...>> Crowley whispered hoarsely, the words spoken with worship and adoration.

Y/n smiled, feeling loved and wanted in a way they had never experienced before.

<<And you are extraordinary. >> answered softly.

Their gazes met again, and deep in Crowley's eyes, Y/n could read a mix of emotions: desire, passion, but also a vulnerability that made him even more fascinating.

The demon's lips explored their necks, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His sensual bites on their skin made them quiver with pleasure, blending sweet with spicy in a symphony of sensations. Y/n's hands tangled in his red hair, pulling him even closer. They felt his heart beat in unison as if they had become one soul.

They lost track of time. It was just the two of them, immersed in a world of their own, a world of desire and pleasure that enveloped them like a whirlwind.

Suddenly the kissing stopped and Y/n felt Crowley's strong arms wrap around them while his head was buried against their chest. As if he wanted to protect them from the whole world and at the same time, wanted to protect himself.

They welcomed him gently, feeling the warmth of his body next to theirs. Making the demon feel loved. In the silence of the night, their breaths calmed. <<What a way to provoke havoc... >> he remarked, amused. Y/n chuckled. <<We should do it more often. >> The demon turned his gaze to look at them. A smirk full of love and devotion on his face. <<Yeah, we should.>> He brought his face closer and kissed them passionately, keeping their head in place with his hand.

<<I think it's time to go home...>> suggested Y/n with a smile. << Yes, I think so too.>>

He carefully set them down, asking if they could stand on their own. Once Y/n felt more comfortable, they dressed each other again and then left the party together. Crowley's arm was placed over their shoulders.

#crowley good omens smut #crowley #good omens crowley x you #good omens #good omens crowley #crowley smut #crowley x reader #anthony j crowley #fluff #smut #good omens crowley x reader #crowley x y/n #x reader #reader insert #gn reader

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