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starwarsbian · 3 days

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feels better like this (high!spencer)

gif by @imagining-in-the-margins

NSFW 18+ minors DNI

put your age in your bio this is a fucking threat

your pretty boyfriend, spencer, tries smoking weed for the first time and it ends in whining and shaking hands

wc: 5.6k (whoops)

a/n: idc that some of this is cliche if you don't like it look away

cw: weed, intoxicated sex, p in v, oral (f! receiving), thigh fucking, unprotected sex, established relationship, praise

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laughing as you unlock the door to your shared apartment, spencer puts his hand on your lower back and follows you inside. you’re both dressed for hotch’s birthday party, which he really didn’t want.

you have on a light blue dress, made of shiny satin. it’s a midi dress, which isn’t really normal for you. you’re more of a pants kind of person, but spencer has been telling you how beautiful you look all night. he’s wearing tan slacks and a button-down that’s a similar color to what you have on.

with his hand still on the small of your back, spencer pulls you in for a kiss; it’s soft and slow. you both smile into it as you pull away, he smells like his cologne.

“i need to change, i’ll be right back,” you say and walk towards your shared bedroom. you decide on a star wars t-shirt of spencer’s and blue plaid pajama pants that are also his. spencer doesn’t mind at all when you wear his clothes.

going to the kitchen, you find spencer leaning against the counter with a glass of water. he smiles and raises his eyebrows when he sees what you have on.

“you look..really good in my clothes,” he replies.

he does the same thing you did, goes to change clothes. when he comes back he has a black t-shirt and red plaid pajama pants.

“you also look really good in your clothes, just so you know.” he laughs at your comment and follows you to your living room. “is it okay if i smoke, spence?”

“oh, yeah! for sure,” he says and kisses your head. your smoking stuff is casually sitting on the end table on the left side of your couch. your grinder is already full from earlier and you take the bowl off your bong to pack. spencer looks at you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration for you. you put the full bowl onto your clean bong that you cleaned earlier in the day. you've been smoking around spencer the whole time you've been together; you used to hide the frequency though, for fear he would thinnk its too much and not like you anymore before. spencer didn't care how often you smoked he just wants you to be who you want to be without regard to what other people think. he's never, not once, to participate in the action but you had assumed it was because he wasn't interested. I mean, the whole team has heard his whole "six minutes are taken off your life per cigarette" ramble. you wonder if he knows statistics like that about smoking weed.

you look towards him and try to decode his thoughts as he’s watching you. “do..do you want to try?” you ask.

“oh..i’ve never..,” he says shyly with blood rushing to his face with a tiny bit of embarrassment. he really feels like he should have already done this at 26.

“really? you spent so much time like, in college. long enough for three doctorates and you’ve never smoked weed?”

he shakes his head and looks at you. he's really hoping you're not going to make fun of him. its never been that he didn't want to or he thought badly of people who did smoke.

“yes, really. no one ever offered, honestly. which i understand, i mean i definitely didn’t look like i’d say yes. i also didn’t really ‘hangout’ with anyone who smoked. what about me says i was friends with the 'cool kids?'"

“i guess i never really thought about it. but i cleaned the bong earlier. so it’s not gross or anything, do you want to try it? with me? i’ll be nice, i promise. i assumed you’d already tried and didn’t like it.”

“yeah. i’ll try but i don’t really know what i’m doing.” he feels relief that you didn't say anything mean or do anything but ask a genuine question.

“you’ve seen me do this dozens of times at this point. but watch me again now and i’ll help you for your turn.”

he nods and watches as you light the lighter and tuck your hair behind your ear. you light the bowl and pull smoke into the chamber, you lift the bowl out to inhale. you smile at spencer during your exhale.

“do that again. you’re pretty..show me again.”

you do as he says but a little slower so he can see each step, very simple steps. he studies you closely and is identifying the mechanics of how it works, its obviously not complicated but he feels better knowing what should happen.

“here. your turn. do you want me to light it for you? that’s not an uncommon thing for someone’s first time.”

he smiles, again. “yeah..that’d be nice, i think.” you hand him the piece and he puts his pretty lips in the top just as you did and looks up at you with his gorgeous eyes. you light the bowl and watch as your boyfriend takes his first hit. you make sure to stop him quickly so he doesn’t take too much and choke. he exhales and looks at you with watery eyes.

“oh, god that burns,” he says and turns away from you to cough a few times. you hurry to get him his water and bring it to him. you don't laugh at him at all because you know the feeling of embarrassment of something laughing at you after the burning pain in your lungs.

“here, take a drink. i know it burns, im sorry. it is hot smoke though.” that makes him laugh, again, with the bong in your hands again you take your turn and look at him with a questioning look afterward as you offer it to him again, eyebrows rising in surprise when he nods and takes it from your hands.

“want me to light it for you again, baby?”

“yes, please.”

you repeat this process but this time he handles it much better and manages to exhale smoothly before calmly taking another drink of water. it soothes the burning in his throat but his eyes still water. “again?” you ask him. spencer nods and puts his mouth back in position to hit the bong again.

your pretty boyfriend take a little baby hit before grinning and passing the bong to you. the bowl is cashed so you empty it and pause to ask spencer if he’d like to pack it. you think it’d be cute to watch him get kinda the whole experience. you’re not going to let him smoke more than 1 or 2 more hits. at least until he has a few moments to feel his reaction. you're honestly scared he's going to freak out and not enjoy himself at all but so far he just seems happy, giddy even.

“you wanna pack it, spence? it really isn’t my favorite thing to do. and obviously it’s easy, here, take this.”

his hands shake a little with what you assume must be nervousness about messing something up. “spencer, you’re not going to do anything wrong? go ahead, baby. just put the flower in there for me and put in place.”

he does it exactly what you say; he didn’t spill anything and looks at you for approval. you give him a big smile and observe him place the bowl back where it belongs.

it’s your turn and you feel spencer’s hand on your thigh as you inhale and exhale. you repeat while spencer looks at you, mesmerized. he looks at you like you put all of the stars in the sky and for him you might as well have. he's never felt so comfortable with someone before.

“your turn, again. try to light it yourself, yeah?”

“okay,” he says before accepting the lighter you’ve offered him. he does it all by himself, perfectly, of course. he does everything perfectly. you nod for him to do it again. he coughs after this one and to make him feel better you make yourself a little uncomfortable with your next hit so you cough too. by the time you’re done hacking, spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.

“i do believe, im high now,” he tells you and then asks, “are you done? i like watching you, even coughing. your eyes look beautiful right now, actually.”

you shake your head no and spencer turns his attention to the TV for a little while as you finish up. his hand is spread out on your thigh now, moving up and down. his touch makes your stomach do flips and crave more.

you put the bong down and turn to face him. “will you kiss me, spencer?” the unfamiliar feeling is fogging up his mind a little so he doesn’t hesitate for a second before pressing your lips together.

the kiss is needy and spencer feels like you’re touching him everywhere but he wants more anyway. you crawl onto his lap and sit down, pushing him back against the couch. your hands are in his hair as you tug just a little. spencer lets out a small moan into your kiss and leans his head back, allowing you access to his neck.

filled with delight you start to kiss below his jaw and move down his neck. usually spencer is worried about you leaving marks on his throat because of work. but when you switch to the other side and start sucking on his flesh to mark him as yours he doesn’t protest. he does the exact opposite of protest and groans as he grabs your hips. spencer doesn’t curse very often but right now he’s letting a quiet slur of stuttering “fuck”s out of his mouth even though he’s biting his lip to try not to. spencer can usually contain himself and insists he reacts "appropriately" tou your touch. you move back to his lips and soon your tongue is moving slow against his. after a few moments he pulls away to catch his breath.

“being touched by you feels so good right now..i.. don’t even know what to do with myself,” he whispers in the crook of your neck.

you’re high too and feel the same way, his hands on your hips are sending radiating heat to your core and when he touches your thighs you get butterflies. this is how it usually starts but he's being much more touchy than normal; you have no complaints.

“you don’t have to do anything. let me make you feel good, spencer..”

he whimpers at the thought of it and eagerly nods. “what are you gonna do?”

“nothing here. let’s go to the bedroom, yeah?” you take his hand and he trails behind you to your bedroom.

“get on the bed, baby,” you instruct.

you remove his pajama pants from yourself and go to straddle him again. his hands find your thighs again and he grips them as you grind down against him.

he won’t stop releasing tiny little whimpers that are driving you crazy, he’s looking at you in a way that seems like begging. you’re still grinding on him and you feel him start to get hard against you.

“awe, there we go,” you tease “you like that, spence?” you speed up your movements a little and he gasps.

“answer me, spencer.”

“yes. yes i like it. don’t stop, you’re so fucking hot. i’m so obsessed with your thighs. you’re so soft and, fuck, it feels amazing.”

“my thighs? you like them?”

“mhm, so much. love to touch them”

you have an idea. “do you wanna touch them in a..different way?”

he’s still whining at the movements you’re making on top of him and he doesn’t ask you to explain just nods.

you move back a little and slip your hand under his waist band. he groans loudly as your fingers touch him for the first time tonight. “take your shirt off.”

he does as he’s told and bucks his hips up into your hand. you don’t give him anything more than you already are just trailing your fingers up and down his length, swiping your thumb across his tip. you get off of him and tug at his waistband, he gets the hint and removes his pants and boxers before he lays down and you crawl back onto him.

you settle down like you might start to ride him but instead you very softly settle spencer’s length between your soft thighs. he whines your name and thrusts himself between them further trying to get friction. you smile at him, in amusement.

“that’s exactly what i was talking about..you wanna fuck my thighs, spence?” you lean forward and ask in his ear.

“oh my god. please? please let me do that. how do i do that? you want it?” he’s flustered and babbling, lacking his usual conciseness. “yeah, i want it. why else would i offer? i wanna see you lose it over being between a part of me that isn’t inherently sexual, you know? like…if i liked your hands a lot. you’d let me use your hand to get off and i..im gonna let you fuck my thighs until you cum all over them.” spencer is looking at you with wide eyes. he didn’t expect you to say so many words but your answer has his length throbbing and his brain at a loss for words.

“how about i let you do it from behind? you can slide yourself right in between them, would you like that?”

spencer’s head is spinning and all he can think about is how much he wants to feel you like that. he’d never thought about it before but now? he’d do anything at the moment to press his cock between your plush legs and feel you in such a different, intimate, way—in a way no one else has had you. he nods again and looks at you with pleading eyes.

“spence, that’s not really an answer. how do you want me, baby? i wanna make you feel so good for your first time like this.”

he whines because he just wants to feel you but chokes out “please..from behind?”

“that’s what i was hoping you’d want,” you say with confidence.

spencer tugs off your shirt and watches as you settle on the bed. you keep pillows under your arms and keep your legs together. he runs his hands down your body and takes special care to tease the inside of your thighs. you moan as he drags his fingers through your warm, using it to coat his cock and groaning something about how wet you are as he spreads it onto your thighs as well.

spencer eases himself between your thighs, cursing and snapping his hips forward. he slowly moves back and forth between your thighs as his grip on your body tightens a little. all he can think about is how he’s so glad you had this idea because it feels like his body is burning with pleasure that pulses through him. he regrets never trying this with you before and would love to do it again. it feels better like this.

“why.. have you never gotten me high and had sex with me until now,” he whines into your ear as he leans down. he's panting and being far more vocal than usual, saying your name and holding your hips tight. he's desperately pulling you back against his movements as he uses your soft thighs to pleasure himself.

you move your hand down towards your thighs and spencer thinks you’re going to try to get some relief for yourself but instead you use it rub over his tip each time it protrudes from between your soft flesh. spencer’s hips stutter and you feel his hand shaking against your lower back. he's completely lost in the moment and with you; absolutely drowning in the way you make him feel. he's so worked up and can't catch his breath but wants to feel you closer. you’ve never seen or felt him act like this during sex. the shaking and whining is honestly a huge compliment and makes you feel accomplished and happy that you could do this for him.

“i’m so close. i’m so so close. fuck. can i cum on them? let me finish on your pretty thighs. let me claim them like that.”

the last phrase sends shiver through your body and you waste no time before telling him “yes, please do. that’s what i’m here for tonight, spence.” even though he hasn't even touched you where you want him you're bordering on dripping wet for him and he can see the glistening in the bedroom light.

he moans your name and within seconds he’s spurting pretty white ropes on your ass and thighs. he’s fucking up into his hand and it’s a gorgeous sight to see looking over your shoulder. he's whimpering by the time he finishes and you turn around to do a quick swipe of your tongue from bottom to top; this makes him pull away in overstimulation but gently run his fingers through your hair.

he lays down on the bed, trying to catch his breath. his face is flushed and his hair is disheveled. when he can breath again he turns off to kiss you, it’s soft and hesitant just because he doesn’t know if you want something from him. he wants to give you something and he runs his hands down your sides again.

“isn’t it your turn?” spencer says as he starts to kiss your neck and chest, his hand moves down to touch just outside of where you need him. he's marking you as his in another way now; sucking on your collarbone and basically purring in your ear in anticipation.

“yeah, i guess it is. what did you want to do?”

“i want you on my tongue. i want to taste you, i can’t even imagine what that would be like right now. will you let me?”

you press your thighs together at the thought, trying to feel anything at the moment because you want him so badly. you love when he's articulate with his words and sure of himself when he asks consent.

you nod and he moves his kisses to your chest and pauses to play with your left nipple with his right hand and put the other one in his mouth. he sucks and soothes the skin with his tongue, little touches of his teeth have you whining for him. he finds your impatience very attractive. he wants you to need him.

he kisses even lower, stopping at the top of your thighs to admire them and spreading them further apart to make room for him. he uses his thumb to lightly expose more of you to himself. wetness coats his thumb as he teases up and down from your clit to your entrance.

“so, so pretty,” he says under his breath. you look down at him just in time to see him suck his thumb clean and make eye contact with him. “mmm,” he hums in approval, “taste so good, pretty girl."

you blush and watch as he licks a wide strip from bottom to top of your sex. the feeling sends shivers down your spine. spencer prods deeper into your heat and meets your clit. he does soft, almost massaging, movements with his tongue. he gently envelops your bundle of nerves with his mouth and confidently slides his tongue against every place he can.

your thighs start to close around him but he holds them back open, lapping up your wetness like it’s his only job in the world to make you orgasm. he’s thorough and presses one finger to your entrance, he looks up at you for approval and smiles when you buck your hips, nod and whine all at once. he’s never said it before but he loves when you fall apart for him, he daydreams about it at work. it’s what he thinks about in hotel rooms at night when he’s alone. right now his mind is filled with nothing but you, your hands in his hair and the warmth of your body around him. he’s obsessed with learning your body and always has been but right now? his body is filled with the need to make you cum.

he presses his finger up inside you and finds the spot he knows makes your legs shake and your breath hitch in your throat. he moves slowly inside you, really taking his time to gauge your reactions. you’d think spencer would get more sloppy or impatient or maybe even lazy as he’s high but none of that happened. if anything it increased his patience in his acts. he looks up at you with glossy eyes and smiles against you when you blush at his gaze.

he moves his tongue down your folds and carefully licks around his fingers that are stretching you open and prodding against your walls with delicious fervor. he finds his way back to your clit and closes his eyes to focus on sucking and licking at your bud in his mouth trying to push you closer to the edge. it’s working and within the minute you’re moaning his name and cursing under your breath — all he can focus on is you you you how he needs you. your taste, your sounds and warm skin flood his senses.

he feels you tighten around his fingers and hears the whimper you let out right before you’re feeling white hot pleasure course through you from your center. you’re throbbing by the end and spencer still isn’t stopping. you whine and half heartedly try to push his head away.

“too much, spence. ‘m too sensitive,” you say.

he stops just long enough to look into your eyes and say “i don’t care. i’m enjoying myself and i know you like it when i make you feel so good you cry.”

your orgasm made even more slick gather and coat his hand. he keeps his assault of your most sensitive places steady while you start to lose yourself in his touch. his hands splayed across your thighs with his finger tips holding you tightly in place have you dizzy with want.

your second climax is quickly approaching and you pray that Spencer doesn't take it away from you. he's not one for orgasm denial he certaintly prefers overstimulation. it washes over you and you're babbling his name; unable to form words. your hips are trying to buck up against his face but he holds you steady and lets you ride out your pleasure on his tongue. you're not crying though, so he isn't done with you.

"i want you, spencer. please use me to get off. i'll let you do whatever you want. you're always so good to me, let it be your turn again. what will make you feel best?"

he's amused that you're worried about him in this situation as if your pleasure doesn't have his head spinning and his heart racing. it took everything in him not to grind against the bed when he was eating you out. he felt that would be selfish though and knew you'd want to help him. you're still trying to catch your breath and he's still rubbing all over your thighs. he continues to trail over the top and underneath and on all parts of your bikini line. he's such a goddamn tease but doesn't answer your question he just looks at you, waiting for you to say something else.

"do you want to smoke more, spence?"

he tries to hide his surprise and excitement but ultimately fails. he handled the first round really well and you decide he can likely handle more this time around.

"do you want to smoke more? its your stuff, baby. you dont have to share."

"quit being silly. everything else that's mine is yours…my body is yours and you're worred about a bowl or two to make you want me even more?"

he nods in agreement and blushes. he takes it upon himself to leave the bedroom and bring your things back in from the living room. you're both still naked and it feels more intimate like this, spencer never lets you feel self conscious and you do the same for him. neither of you are embarassed or worried about it in this moment. he gives you a soft kiss before he smiles and says,

"i've brought you a gift." he gives you the bong, its pink by the way and the bowl is heart shaped.

he already knows what to do this time and is far less nervous. you take the piece from him and get to work filling the bowl with ground flower from your grinder, that is also pink and has a heart on top. he waits patiently and just spends time admiring you. your hair is messed up and so is his but he really believes you look beautiful; he thinks you're perfect and can't wait to get his hands on you again and feel you writhe underneath him. he shakes his head trying to focus on something other than the dirty thoughts hes having about you like the way you'll beg for his cock, how your legs shake when he's done with you and the marks that'll be left tomorrow.

you let Spencer smoke as much as he thinks he can handle in comparison to last time; he still coughs and needs his water everytime but you're kind of impressed by his perseverance. he keeps up with you mostly, until your last few inhales when he watches you with low red eyes. he feels almost dizzy but in a good way and wants to be in you really really badly, he cant think of another way to describe it and thats how he knows he's right where he needs to be for what happens next.

again, he teases and touches your inner thighs and trails the crease between them; obviously trying to have some effect on you and it works. he knows just how to touch you to make you want all of him. as you finish up his touching becomes more insistent and maybe more suggestive as he slowly moves closer and closer to where you need him.

"you all done, pretty girl? gonna let me touch you again?"

you nod eagerly and pull him on top of you as you lean back on the pillows on the bed before meeting his lips with yours. the kissing gets intense fast, with his hands touching you a little less softly as he's filled with need. you're rutting up against the thigh he has resting between yours and nip at his bottom lip gently as he pulls away to look into your eyes. "i want you in me, spencer. i've been waiting all night. waiting since you started looking at me hungrily at that party. i know you were thinking about me like this instead of fully clothed sitting on your lap in front of all of your friends." he groans at your words and gives in to you, no longer teasing after the way you're talking to him. he's still on top of you as he trails his fingers down your throat then stomach and finally resting with a thumb on your bundle of nerves. he presses light circles and slowly slides two fingers in that you take with ease. he decides that you're wet enough and you've never minded a little discomfort at first anyway. you beg him to move even if it hurts a little.

spencer lines up with your entrance and very, very slowly enters you as he throws his head back in pleasure and grans your hip hard enough it might leave bruises tomorrow. he can hardly stop himself from taking you roughly right there like his fucked up brain wants him to. insead, he holds back and begins moving in and out at a slow, steady pace. his movements spread your wetness over him and soon he's bottomed out. hes so deep you swear you can feel it in your stomach as he presses against your walls. he feels you clenching down on him and he swears under his breath.

'fuck. fuck, you're so tight. god, and warm. feels so good."

he's still moving slowly in you and you're starting to feel impatient. but rushing spencer isn't something that really happens; he loves to take his time with you like this until you're begging for his cock to move faster inside you. he sees your water eyes begging for him without saying a single word.

"awe, does my baby want more? say please."

"please. please fuck me. i've been so good and have done everything you've said."

he hums in agreement and says nothing as he speeds up and changes the angle of his thrusts slightly as he fucks into you. you keep tightening around him and its driving him crazy, he can't get enough of you at the moment. his hands are shaking again as he holds himself up with one and massages your breast with the other. his hands splay wide across your skin and his hair hangs down in his face just a little while he moves inside you.

his pace is steady and his hips only falter when he hits something in you that makes you tighten around him and arch your back into his touch. soon his length is touching perfectly against that sweet spot in you that makes your head spin and your hands desperately grab for the sheets or spencer in general.

he switches to something much faster and quickly your nails are scratching long lines across his back, hard enough his back will sting tomorrow and he might wince at the feeling of his shirt rubbing against the wounds you've left him with; he'll like it though and grin to himself as he thinks about the way he had you the night before.

with your nails dragging down his flesh in needy bliss, spencer can't even think to talk you through it like he normally would. he's hardly ever at a loss for words but he's high and doesn't know how to cope with all the sensations he's feeling. what he knows should feel like pain against his skin, your scratches, feels like pleasure that spreads through his entire body; with his existence aflame from your touch.

he's lost all sense of the words "soft" and "rough" and is focused on pushing you over the edge again. he's getting close again but is trying to hold back until he pulls another orgasm from your overwhelmed body. the sound of skin hitting skin is filling the room as well as your pleas and unending moans of your lover's name. his hand intertwines with yours as he wrecks you just like you wanted. you wanted Spencer to be a little reckless, a little thoughtless in the process of tonight's sex.

thinking about the way he whined and whimpered between your thighs earlier is pushing you closer and closer as a knot in your stomach tightens. spencer's fingers find your clit and rub quick small circles in the way he knows you like. he's pulling you apart at the seams and doing everything he can to coax your orgasm from you before he finishes himself. since you've gotten together he's learned how to get you to let go completely and surrender yourself to how he makes you feel.

his breathing is heavy and he knows a few words will be enough to make you unravel under him. "come on, angel. I can feel you're close, let go for me. come on, let go. you're such a good girl, do what I tell you and cum around my cock. let me feel you."

his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he practically begs you to finish so he can too. "you want me to cum in you? want me to fill you up? i wont until you finish under me."

you desperately want to feel him pulsing and filling you so you focus and close your eyes underneath him. normally, he would tell you to open your eyes and look at him when he's dragging you off the edge towards more white hot bliss. warmth spreads through your body, all the way to your fingertips as you start to lost contact with the real world. your climax washes over you in waves that match the pulsing Spencer feels from you.

your orgasm is enough to send him reeling over his own ledge as his thrusts start to turn irratic and lose uniformity. he moans into the kiss you pull him down into and he stops moving completely to pump his cum into you. towards the end he moves his hips slowly against yours, grinding into you and fucking his seed further into you. you hum in approval until he pulls out which leaves you feeling empty and forces a whine and frown out of you.

"baby, don't pout right now. I'll give you more later, or tomorrow, or both if you want. we need to do that more. you looked so beautiful, do you know that? absolutely perfect losing touch with reality under me." he falls onto the bed beside you and opens his arms for you to rest against his chest. he's moderately sticky with sweat but you don't care, just loving the physical contact spencer allows you to have at this moment. you start to drift off into sleep to the soothing sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat. he softly rouses you away and reminds you that you need to pee after sex, "to prevent a UTI, of course." you groan but pull yourself off of him as you tread to the bathroom, spencer's cum threatening to leak out of you and run down your thighs.

spencer enters the bathroom a few minutes to ask if you'd like to shower with him. "i wasn't super gentle with you this time, let me take care of you and clean you up."

who are you to deny him caring for you like he wants to? it feels better to give him what he wants.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut #high!spencer #mgg x reader

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ktgoodmorning · 3 days

Text

Superstar

Alexia Putellas x reader

Inspired by the song superstar by MARINA. Alexia misses you after a rough away game when you aren't there to comfort her.

Masterlist

Before I met you, I pushed them all away Soon as I kissed you, I wanted you to stay What I like about you is you know who you are What you like about me is I know what I'm not

You had never really cared much about dating before. It’s not that you were opposed to having a partner that you could share your life with, it just always seemed like more of an inconvenience for you. The idea of someone trying to constantly tag along with you and share everything made you cringe, causing you to never intentionally pursue a romantic relationship.

Those that knew you liked to say it was because you had been raised “fiercely independent”, while your closest friends liked to say you were just scared and avoiding being hurt. In reality, it was likely a combination of both, and no matter what the reason was, you didn't really care. At times when someone came along, you would push them away before it could get too serious, usually after becoming annoyed with some minute little habit they had. So you never really imagined getting into a serious relationship before.

Not before Alexia.

Alexia changed everything for you. The way that she didn’t try to cling onto you so hard is exactly what drew you together. Both of you had similar feelings when it came to dating and it worked perfectly. You gave each other the space you needed while still fitting your lives together in the ways you wanted to.

When you first started seeing each other, your friends had given you a lecture that you shouldn’t push her away, unknowing it was something that Alexia had been told by her own friends as well. The moment you shared your first kiss, you both knew that this relationship was something you’d be willing to fight for. As much as it scared you to commit to another person, it was even scarier to imagine a life without her.

It was after your second date that you received a text from her, shortly after dropping you off at home: “I should have kissed you.” It made you smile knowing that she was thinking the same thing you were. You both wanted it and yet you both chickened out, something that was extremely rare for either of you.

She was all you could think about until your next date which came only a few days later, moving quicker than you were normally willing to. You had gotten lunch together before going on a walk along the beach, eventually sitting next to each other in the sand to look out at the ocean and get to know each other further. Alexia was known to be quieter around people she didn’t know well, especially when they weren’t footballers. In a way, she was so consumed with the sport that she felt like she didn't know how to talk to people who didn’t feel the same, but here she was, opening up to you more than ever before. Something about your conversation made it feel so easy and effortless in a way neither of you were used to.

You sat talking for hours, migrating closer together as you did so. Eventually you leaned into her slightly, still too scared to make eye contact, just giggling and talking while you watched the waves crash against the shore. Some of your conversation was more serious, talking about your upbringings, but just as easily, the two of you would turn to quickly joking around and poking fun at each other. It was the perfect mix of deeper conversations while still having fun.

When the conversation came to a lul, you could feel her eyes on you, making you turn to finally meet them. Nerves were radiating from her, almost making you feel them yourself. She was terrified of messing it up with you and you were equally as terrified, both sharing glances down at each other’s lips but too scared to actually move any further.

“Can I kiss you?” she breathed out, hardly audible, her eyes glued to your lips.

“Please.” That was all she needed to hear, immediately using one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into her.

The kiss was perfect, somehow much better than any you’d had before, even though you knew it was just because of the girl in front of you and the way she had you feeling better than you ever had. It was the perfect mix of gentle yet still confident, moving slowly and with purpose against you. Alexia’s nerves seemingly disappeared the second that she finally made the move.

And that was the moment both of you felt something change. Something about what you had together was different, the idea of pushing her away, unfathomable. Suddenly, you could understand all the people that got clingy with their significant other. The idea of sharing your life didn’t feel so bad, as long as it was with Alexia.

And I, I know that you never sleep Oh, so impossible to dream When you're far away from me Oh, I, I'm all you could ever need Oh, so impossible to breathe

From that moment on, your lives had quickly become intertwined, still independent in yourselves but able to let your guard down when you came home to her. It was a constant that brought both of you great comfort, knowing you’d always have the other to love and back you up no matter what.

It was exactly this that Alexia came to rely on. Anytime she had a bad game, all she needed was to come home to you and settle into your arms. She rarely slept after games in general and that wasn’t something that changed easily, but at the very least, you were able to help her relax and get some much-needed rest.

She was grateful that you never lectured her about her lack of sleep or somewhat insane mindset when it came to football. Most people in her life were quick to scold her about working herself too hard but you were just there to open your arms as soon as she realized she needed it. It’s not that you liked it, you knew it wasn’t good for her, but you understood it. You were often considered a workaholic yourself, something that made the two of you work well together. So when she was finally willing to admit she needed a break, you would always be there to take one with her.

Neither of you realized how much you’d come to rely on each other until you were forced to be apart. You both liked to pretend that you were okay on your own if you needed to be, but when times got tough, it became much more difficult.

It was after an away game, one that you weren’t able to attend due to your job. The game hadn’t gone well, especially by your girlfriend’s standards. It had resulted in a draw for Barcelona that Alexia placed entirely on her shoulders. She had missed more shots than she should have, made too many mistakes, and should have been able to pull out the win. Of course nobody else had thought any of those things, but Alexia fully believed it.

She was lucky enough to have gotten a single room, a perk of being captain she supposed, which was good considering how restless she was following the game. The more she tossed and turned, the more frustrated she got. It was normal for her to be worked up after a game so it shouldn't have been surprising that that was the case now, especially after such a rough game.

All Alexia could think about was you and being in your arms, at home and safe, smelling your mix of perfume and body wash radiating off of you. It had only been a few days since she had seen you but the thought was all-consuming. She wanted nothing more than to lay with you, listening to you ramble quietly as you fell asleep, hardly making sense.

The more she thought about it, the more she missed you. The frustration had grown to a level that almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off the blankets, flipped her pillow, and tossed around, unable to find any resolution. After trying all her usual things to help rid her of her post-game adrenaline, she knew exactly what she needed to do, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. Before either of you would be gone, you would always say, “call me if you need anything, or even if you don’t!” It always made Alexia roll her eyes, never actually doing it unless just out of boredom

Nothing terrified either of you more than the idea of “needing anything.” Your girlfriend wasn’t one to rely on someone else and the thought of it made her heart race. What if her call woke you up? Your sleep schedule was messed up enough she knew you’d likely be awake but she wasn’t sure she should risk it. She didn’t want to bother you. What if her neediness scared you away?

At this point, her internal conflict and massive frustration had tears running down her face, something that only freaked her out further. Alexia rarely cried and yet here she was, alone in her hotel room, sobbing like a baby while she stared at your contact page pulled up on her phone. She spent a while with her thumb hovering over the call button before finally giving in and pressing it, filled with embarrassment over needing your comfort.

I love the way we worked so hard Yeah, we've come so far Baby, look at me, you're my superstar When I'm afraid, when the world's gone dark Come and save my day, you're my superstar

The second you picked up and she heard your voice, she immediately relaxed.

“Ale? Are you okay?” Your voice was somewhat rough; she hadn’t woken you up although you hadn’t been far from sleep when your phone lit up with her face.

“Sí, estoy bien, sólo te extrañé.” you could hear the exhaustion in her voice and knew she was lying just because of the time she was calling you. If you really wanted to see how she was doing, you’d need to see her face as it was usually easy for you to read, especially when you knew she wouldn’t be willing to admit whatever was wrong.

“Why don’t you FaceTime me? I want to see you.” you pressed the button before she had time to object. Even though it was dark, you could tell she was struggling just from the blank look on her face. “Ale, what’s wrong?”

Your girlfriend went silent, refusing to make eye contact.

“Talk to me, amor. You can tell me anything, remember? I won’t judge you, I just want to help you.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t mean to wake you up, it’s not a big deal.”

“Don’t say that. You didn’t even wake me up, I promise. I just want to know what’s going on with you.” When you were met with more silence, you took it upon yourself to try to fill in the gaps, knowing that if you were wrong about something she’d jump in to correct you.

“Are you beating yourself up over the draw tonight?” Her lack of response gave you all the information you needed to know you were right, letting out a sigh over how critical she was of herself.

“Ale, do you realize how good you are? You are so talented, more than anyone I know, but even you can’t expect to single-handedly win a game. Nobody was playing their best today, and you know that. If you had won, you would never say that you were the sole reason you won. So you can’t say you’re the sole reason you lost.”

She gave you a small shrug, “I don’t know. I just feel like I could’ve done better.”

“Alexia Putellas, look at me. I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be honest with me, okay? Do you realize that you’re a good football player?”

You were met with more silence, her eyes darting away from yours once again.

“Alexia, you’re the same person who won all those awards. Just because it was before your ACL doesn’t mean it wasn't you. You’re still that same person, that same amazing, incredible, record-breaking footballer. And besides that, every one of your teammates looks up to you. I look up to you.” This got her attention. As soon as you said it, her eyes met yours.

“Why would you look up to me, amor? You work so hard and are accomplishing so much and-.”

“Ale, do you hear yourself? That’s literally what you’re doing. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. The way everyone does, really.” Her eyebrows were scrunched together, almost confused by your words, forcing you to continue. “Like I said, you’re so insanely talented, Alexia. But that’s not even the reason everyone loves you, at least not the reason I do. I love the way you dedicate yourself to the things you love, the people you love. If you missed every shot you ever took, I’d still love you just as much, so would your family, so would everyone. It’s about so much more than just how you play. It’s about how you cheer me up when I’m pissed off about work stuff and the way you are constantly making me feel better about myself than I ever could on my own. You are a superstar in every way, and only a tiny part of that has anything to do with how you play.”

You never judge me for any of my fears Never turn your back, always keep my body near All of the days that we spend apart My love is a planet revolving your heart

When you looked up from your speech, you could see tear tracks running down her cheeks, trying her best to hold it together. “Ale, amor, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” she shook her head quickly, wiping her tears away. “I’m not upset, I promise. I don’t know what I’m feeling, if I’m being honest, but I’m not upset.”

“See if you can tell me about it, even if it doesn’t all make sense, that’s okay. Just try.”

You watched her take a deep breath in hopes of getting her thoughts together before speaking again. “I’m so tired. I know that. And I’m overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to think about right now. But these are happy tears I think. I just can’t believe how good you are to me and how lucky I am. All the things you said to me, just made me so grateful for you. And I normally don’t talk about stuff like this, you know that. But the way you always know what to say and don’t make me feel crazy. I just- I don’t even know. I think what I’m trying to say is thank you. Thank you for sticking with me, even when I’m losing it.”

We'll stick together Make it through the storm You and I Whoever said we couldn't have it all?

Alexia finally gave you a soft smile as she caught her breath, much calmer now that she had gotten all her thoughts off her chest.

“You don’t have to thank me, Ale, and you’re not losing it. I’ve missed you too and as much as that’s weird for us, I think that’s how this whole relationship thing is supposed to work.” you both chuckled lightly, knowing how new you both were to the feelings you shared. “But everything I said is true, I really mean it.”

“I appreciate it, amor. There’s no one else I’d rather navigate this stuff with. I feel like when I talk to you, you make it all make sense. Like we can figure out anything.”

“Well I don’t know about anything, but we can sure try. Although I think you sound like you’re falling asleep so maybe we’ll save the figuring out everything for tomorrow, okay?”

Alexia gave you a nod while doing her best to conceal a yawn, much more tired than she realized now that she had calmed down. “I’ll see you tomorrow, goodnight mi amor. I love you.”

“I love you, Alexia. Call me if you need anything else, or even if you don’t.” She rolled her eyes at the sentiment, just as she always did, but smiled at herself as she hung up, grateful that she had called, whether she was willing to admit she needed something or not.

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chestharrington · 2 days

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For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him.

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it.

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about.

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch.

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it.

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing.

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing.

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse.

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him.

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line.

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat.

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach.

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him.

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot.

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth.

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more.

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing.

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer.

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire.

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that.

So he thought about something else.

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world.

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds?

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer.

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper.

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve? Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again, and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller.

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice.

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers.

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least.

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week.

He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently.

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?”

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave.

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own.

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air.

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure.

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it.

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead.

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top.

Fuck.

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy.

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground.

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs.

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway.

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch.

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper.

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight.

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line.

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming.

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing.

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer.

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased.

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.”

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were.

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work.

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal.

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school.

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind.

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job.

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy.

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone.

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks.

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile.

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked.

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud.

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him.

“Bye, Steve.”

He wondered why that sounded so familiar.

Fuck.

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless.

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed.

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.”

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it.

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could.

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift.

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call.

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him.

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit.

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths.

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers.

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy.

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react.

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them.

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned.

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay.

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register.

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really.

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition.

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view.

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him.

God, you were going to make him pay for that later.

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper.

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever.

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited.

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry.

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank.

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N.

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person.

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him.

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention.

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples.

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst.

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly.

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy.

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable.

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court.

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy.

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile.

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment, but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice.

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice.

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable.

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break.

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows.

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself.

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line.

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more.

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning.

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it.

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already.

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of.

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion.

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need.

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it.

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh.

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone.

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel.

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat.

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him.

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down.

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily.

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him.

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks.

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo.

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified.

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually.

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his.

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his.

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop.

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way.

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh.

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.”

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages.

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot.

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop.

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside.

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls.

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him.

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra.

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right.

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction.

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched.

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you.

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you.

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough.

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance.

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl.

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release.

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling.

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips.

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand.

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?”

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling.

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch.

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt.

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy.

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock.

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself.

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs.

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase.

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan.

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin.

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours.

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #okayyyy enjoy :)

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mattslutt · 3 days

Text

JUST A BET

c.sturniolo (with matt sturniolo)

includes: strong language, cursing, pet names, angst, smut (not a lot, sorry), oral!female

short summary: finding out that you were just a bet for chris so matt helps you make him jealous. later on matt wanted more because turns out he always liked you.

authors note: the reader in this story is kinda messy and a slut but who wouldn’t be a slut for chris and matt?? have fun reading

As I was walking around the huge gathering at the triplets house filled with people i haven’t seen in my entire life, I was searching for Chris. It’s been almost six months since we were dating. I saw him next to the table with a group of guys and they were laughing a lot, i was interested to hear what they were laughing about, i got through a few people so I would be closer to the table and my heart dropped when i heard Chris and some of his friends mention my name plenty of times.

“So she was just a bet?”.

“Yeah.”

“Man, you’re heartless”, his friend said while laughing.

I didn’t want them to see me so I walked away as fast as I could, i felt sick to my stomach and I felt my eyes being filled with tears. I actually bumped into Matt cuz I wasn’t looking where I was going.

“Sorry Matt”.

“It’s okay - wait. Why are you crying? Is everything okay?”.

“No.”

“Who do I need to punch?”, Matt said jokingly.

“Punching your brother would be good”.

Matt seemed confused, he looked to where Chris was and then back at me again.

“What happened if you don’t mind me asking?.”

“Oh you know, found out I was just a silly bet for your brother Chris.”

I saw that Matt was tempted, he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t wanna be here anyways so I’m gonna go.” I tried walking away.

“Hey, hold up”, he softly grabbed me by the arm bringing me closer to him.

“What if we make him jealous? Give him his own taste of medicine?”.

There was a moment of silence but our eyes spoke for the words so I nodded my head.

“Good, come here”, Matt grabbed my hand and lead me closer to the DJ booth, leaning me against the wall where Chris could see both of us perfectly. Our faces were close. very close. I could feel both of our hearts beating fast and I caught Matts breathing getting heavier.

“Nervous?”, I whispered.

“Yeah”, he replied.

I slowly grabbed his hand and placed it on my chest so he could feel my heart beating.

“Me too”, I whispered.

Matt softly smiled at me in reply, he moved his face closer to mine.

“I always thought why you’re with him.”, he lowly spoke, whispering in my ear as his hands were slowly moving around my body.

“What do you mean?”, I tried playing clueless while I was actually going insane. His touch drove me crazy and I didn’t know how was he having this effect on me.

“Matt… What are you doing?”.

“Something I should have done a long time ago”., and with those words he leaned in to kiss me, hungrily. I melted into the kiss immediately, kissing him back with the need that he needed. I didn’t care if people were watching us, I was too lost in this moment with Matt.

The kiss kept getting deeper every second, our tongues were swirling together in motion, I felt him groan into the kiss as he pulled me closer to him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”, a familiar voice echoed our ears. We pulled away from each other to see Chris standing in front of us.

“I don’t know. You might wanna explain yourself”, Matt replied.

“What the fuck are you doing? Making out with my girl in front of everyone.”.

“Your girl? I recall you calling her a bet in front of your friends and laughing it off”, Matt sounded pissed of, he walked closer to Chris. Both of their faces were filled with anger.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know anything”, Chris yelled.

He looked at my direction and came closer to me, grabbing my arms but I pushed them away.

“Baby, what are you doing? You know it’s not true”.

“Why are you lying to my face.”

“You seriously cannot tell me that you believe him?”, Chris sounded disgusted.

“I don’t need to believe him, because I overheard the entire conversation.”

Chris stood in disbelief, not wanting to loose me he tried to comfort me but I didn’t listen to him.

“Stop with this bullshit. We’re done”.

Chris froze in shock, everyone was laughing, gasping and some even filmed this entire chaos.

“No we’re not”, Chris grabbed my hand aggressively.

“Who the fuck are you to tell me what can I do?”, I threw his arm off of mine.

Matt was still there, his eyes were on me the entire time. I walked up to him and grabbed his arm, walking him out of the living room, upstairs.

As we entered his room Matt closed the door behind us and locked it.

“Well that was… interesting ”, I whispered while giggling.

“Yeah. But you handled it well”, Matt teased.

“Thank you, Matt. For everything”.

He stood in silence but he kept staring at me. He gave me that up and down look which I definitely noticed.

“Matt. What’s racing through your mind?”, I whispered lowly. I knew the answer. I just wanted to tease him. Not even a minute later his lips were smashed on mine and this kiss was way more intense than the other one. It was more needy, more sloppy.

He slowly began to take off my shirt and I took off his. His eyes were starting down at my chest which formed a smirk on my lips, i needed this more than ever. He slowly pushed me onto the bed getting on top of me.

“Are you sure about this?”, Matt whispered.

“Mhm”, I whispered lowly.

Matt smirked as he leaned in to kiss my neck as his hands went down to unzip my pants. He slowly inserted his fingers under my panties as he looked up at me.

“You’re soaking wet”, he whispered.

I didn’t say anything, I just watched him go lower, spreading my legs and him burying his head between my legs. He slowly pulled the thong away, teasing me with his tongue on my soaking wet cunt.

“Matt”, I whined desperately.

“Shhh. Patience, sweetheart”.

With those words he gently licked my folds making me throw my head back as my nails digged into his hair, he let out a low groan fastening the peace with his tongue. I swear I could feel my climax build up already but I held it in on purpose.

“Why are you holding?”, Matt looked up at me.

“I wanna feel more”, I breathed out.

“Hmmm…. Like this?”, Matt spoke with the most innocent voice teasingly as he shoved his fingers inside me, making me moan loudly. He was enjoying the view too much. He watched me be an absolute fool for him, my back was arching, moans were getting louder as his fingers quickened the peace.

“You’re so good for me”, Matt teased me.

He continued to finger me roughly which made me start whining and throwing my head back, felt my eyes going all the way back to my skull. He leaned in to kiss me hungrily as his fingers were still inside me, I felt my climax as I couldn’t hold it in anymore longer, soon his fingers were covered in my juices. I breathed and sighed out loudly as he laid next to me, smirking and kissing my neck.

“You did so good sweetheart”.

After a few moments of silence Matt spoke:

“Just so you know, this was definitely not a bet”.

I laughed as I threw a pillow to Matt’s face as both of us started giggling and cuddling for the rest of the night.

____________________________________________

guess who’s alive???? so guys idk how long it’s been but im just so unmotivated to do anything and i lost my writing skills so bare with this please. i miss you all and love you all. thank you.

taglist: @plasticferal @hoesformatt @sturncrazy @sturnsblunt @55sturn @westwiing13 @freshloverr @gamermattsgf @mbbsgf @sturniolosstar

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babyleostuff · 11 hours

Text

svt with a s/o who loves cooking/ baking | ot13

the ones that cannot cook to save their life - pulling you was the best thing to happen in their life:

𐙚🧸ྀི wonwoo, vernon, chan, hoshi

in their eyes you're the coolest person alive - how are you able to cook and bake so well is a mystery for them. nonetheless, they’d love to accompany you whenever you’d be cooking/ baking, even if they’d just be watching, while having this cute lovestruck gaze that’d follow your every move. even though they wouldn't help much with the cooking/baking, they would take care of taking away the dirty dishes and washing them, or wiping the countertops if they got dirty, so as not to be completely useless (even though having them, even if they’d just be watching, would be more than enough for you). if you ever baked something, they’d probably take it to practice too, and if anyone would ask them what they were eating, they’d shyly mention that you made it.

his cooking skills are okay-ish, he won’t burn the kitchen down (the food somehow always end up being ass):

𐙚🧸ྀི jeonghan, joshua, woozi, minghao, seungkwan

having a partner who can cook and bake so well feels like such a blessing for them. they’d always inhale the food you made, and mention every other second how great it was, and that they have never anything as good as this (they say that anytime you cook/bake something). they'd be a bit hesitant to help you out, worried they might mess something up, but with your encouragement, and directions on what they’re supposed to do, they’d get the hang of it very quickly, and you’d end up having such a fun time. if they took the lunch or snacks you prepared for them to practice, they'd go around and tell people that you made it and that they miss out on so much good food (if anyone asked them for a bite of the food, they’d side eye them and walk away).

the ones that would love to cook alongside you, they wouldn’t burn the kitchen, and the food would be edible:

𐙚🧸ྀི coups, jun, dk, mingyu

cooking together equals date nights, they’d never miss out on spending quality time with you, and the fact that food is involved? they’re in heaven. you’d have the best time talking, messing around, probably making fun of each other from time to time for messing something up. it’d be so domestic, and they only word you’d be able to describe it as would be home. yep, that’s what home feels like. i’d be a bit hesitant when it comes to baking, though. they’d be like: fuck the proportions, let’s freestyle, and it’d just end up in a huge disaster (i still have nightmares from nana tour, when mingyu wasn’t able to whisk the eggs, my slavic ass is sweating). you can be sure the food would be inhaled by them in less than ten seconds, because if there’s something they love more than cooking with you, it’s eating what you have prepared.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @haneulparadx @zozojella @hoichi02

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scudevils · 2 days

Text

vienna — CL16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: smut, some sad stuff, a prequel to “when it rains it pours”, swearing, just finished this after starting it a whileeeeee ago, google translated french (soz), this is old (as in mid 2023 old), not a good representation of a relationship, not proofread!

synopsis: what really happened the night you bumped into charles at the monaco grand prix [6.0k]

a/n: im backkkk bitches!! jk i don’t wanna jinx myself but who woulda thought it would a charles fic that got me out of my slump. anyway, please be nice, i haven’t wrote in like 3 months properly 😭😭

you stayed true to your words, keeping your distance from charles.

you hadn't seen him in months, not since you'd left him in the kitchen that night. you hadn't been temped enough to check how he was doing in his races or where he was in the standings, not once.

and your friends knew better than to tell you, so whilst you could see they were obviously celebrating something, wether it was a win or a podium, you kept yourself away from anything relating to him.

the way he looked at you when you were in the kitchen was still burned into your memory, the smug and almost mocking expression on his face, as if he didn't believe the words that you told him, as if he knew you'd come straight back to him.

you told yourself after that, that you'd be stronger the next time, that you wouldn't give into his glances or taunting looks he gave you. that you were stronger than him and whatever gave me was playing.

although all it took was a win at one of the most iconic circuits on the calendar to break down the walls you'd so carefully built up.

you'd inevitably learned through a mutual friend that charles was a contender in the championship, that ferrari had been having a 'wonder season' with their monegasque golden boy, a miracle was what the media was calling it. a potential to win the championship since they last did in 2007.

monaco was the next race around the corner, the exclusive circuit de monaco one of the hardest to get tickets to, even for the countries natives, although it did help living basically around the corner from it.

whilst you were with charles it had became some what of a tradition to attend monaco with him, every year of his career, you were with him for your home race. despite the rumours of the curse, wether you being with him was the cause, it never stopped you from going.

you'd ruled out attending this year without a second thought, letting your friends know that too, pierre being the one to offer your entire friend group paddock passes for the three days.

it took days of your friends grovelling, your many no's and them constantly assuring you that the thousands of people attending would be the ones taking over much of charles' attention, before you finally gave in and agreed.

after all he was the home boy, everyone loved him, men wanted to be him and women wanted to be with him, and he revelled in knowing that.

monaco had a special way of bringing out the other side of you, the partying side that never seemed to be able to sit down or the side of you that made the bad decisions, that wouldn't listen to anyone unless they were putting a drink in your hand.

it was a 50/50 coin toss on which one people would get.

the first two days had gone by in a blink of an eye, everything running just as smoothly as your friends had promised and you were actually having fun, the most shocking thing of all.

you had somehow managed to avoid him the entire weekend, and you were about to go three for three when charles had found you watching over the alpine mechanics as they worked on the final preparations of the race day car.

it was obvious to anyone he had came around looking for pierre, although he couldn't say that he was disappointed to see you instead. "was wondering where my number one supporter was," his voice was like nails on a chalkboard for you, a graining sound that wouldn't leave your head and you hated how much you missed it. you chose not to acknowledge him as he spoke, continuing to look at the mechanics and even pretending to understand the data on the screen. "shame you're not in the ferrari garage, we used to have so much fun in there."

"fuck you, charles." standing up from the chair, you moved to walk past him the ferrari driver blocking the way as he tilted his head down towards you. he opened his mouth to say something before an engineer from the ferrari garage found him, needing him for something with the car.

charles removed the cap from his head, placing it on yours, and it felt so right that you wanted to shoot yourself for how much you loved it, he laughed lightly at how quick you were to take it off again. "i'll find you after the race."

just as you'd anticipated, the race too wasn't too action filled, but you couldn't lie and say you were paying it all your attention, the rare occurrence of a red bull strategy error allowing the ferrari's a larger gap to a 1-2. a mclaren crashing into the barrier had brought out a safety car with just under 10 laps to go.

with only 5 laps, it was inevitable who the winner was, the winner who was about to win the monaco grand prix, and break his home race curse in one go.

fans and employees alike gather around the podium, the winning car followed by second and third place displayed in front of them. the drivers came out one by one, celebrate with their teams because after all they're on the podium of the most presidential grand prix, each of them standing at their designated step before charles, accompanied by the cheers of his home crowd, took the top step.

soon they were each awarded their trophies before the monegasque anthem rung out to the crowd. charles stood proud as he took everything in, he had beat the curse and won at his home track.

you watched from afar with your friends mixed in with the alpine engineers and other workers, trying to push down the proud feeling you have bubbling inside of you. each celebrated as if their own team won, it seemed that truly everyone had a soft spot for the ferrari man.

with the majority of celebrations over the fans began to leave the track, all of you going back to your apartments to get ready for what inevitably was going to be a long night of celebration.

you couldn't help the memories flashing in your head of the pictures shown to you just over two years ago, charles' hand on the brunette girls hip as his mouth was on hers. a couple others in the background jeering them on as though it was something to celebrate. you hadn't gone out in monaco since, everywhere reminded you of that.

however, you shook the thoughts from your head. tonight, you were going to go out with your friends tonight, get drunk, then end up back in your own bed.

people were spilling out of the clubs onto the street, different songs blaring out of each one. your friends had settled on one you’d been going to since your teens, the purple strobes hitting you as you got in, memories of every bad decision you’d made in there coming back to you, taunting you.

it was just shy of full, people on the dance floor with a drink in their hand as they danced up against someone, spilling whatever filled their glasses. guys sat in booths with girls around them, their company lasting as long as they had money in their wallet.

a drink was quickly placed in your hand, your simple order one that your friends were used to by now. you were in your usual spot, the leather seats still pristine as the day you first sat on them when one of them had spotted pierre in another booths, the frenchman calling you over before making room for all of you.

one drink quickly turned into two, then three before you were both finally tipsy enough to get to the dance floor, this was the side of you that your friends loved to see, fun, carefree, living in the moment. your body pushed up against someone behind you, long gone were the thoughts of the monegasque who’d plagued your life, the feeling of his hands firmly on your hips had you pressing further back.

his grip on you was enough to keep you to close to him, his breath hot on your neck before his lips began to explore your exposed skin, open mouthed kisses littered across your collarbone. leaning into his touch you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing the man closer to you, giving into the feeling.

the alcohol flowing through your veins built up the courage for you to turn to look at him, a small gasp falling from your lips as your eyes met the familiar ones of pierre, looking down at you with his arm wrapped around your waist, unapologetically looking over your body. "you know he'd be mad if he saw us."

you hated that you still let him have this control over you, that with another man wrapped up around you, you still thought about how he felt. despite the noise, pierre could hear your words clearly. his lips continued up your neck from your collarbone, reaching just below your ear, teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "good thing he isn't here," the frenchman placed a small kiss on the soft skin. "charles doesn't know what he's lost."

every inch of your body shouted to give into him, to be the bad guy and fuck his best friend with no remorse, after all where was his remorse when he’d left you in that kitchen, when he’d been in another womens bed?

but even then, something stopped you from letting yourself fall into pierre's arms, something still held you back. nothing could explain what prompted you to step away from him, offering him a quick apology before going back to the booth, the warmth of his lips a long forgotten feeling.

at that point you hadn't even wanted to continue with the night, ordering one last drink before you told your friends you were ready for an early night, an early night for monaco anyway.

the walk from the club was barely 10 minutes to your apartment, the times when you were thankful to live in a small country. you rounded a corner, mimicking the cars that had been on the track hours prior, feeling your body hit into another's as they quickly apologised.

"are you everywhere?" you groaned seeing who you had bumped into, the very person who you wanted to see least in that moment.

charles rolled his eyes at your comment. "monaco is a small place," he looked behind you waiting to see your friends following suit, frowning slightly when he saw you alone. "where's everyone else?"

“dancing and drunk." you gave him a short answer, moving past him to continue home when you heard his footsteps behind you, cursing under your breath, your patience was running thin. "is there something you need, charles?"

"what kind of gentleman would i be if i let you walk home yourself drunk?" scoffing at his choice of the word gentleman, you started walking away from him, already aware there was no hope of him giving up, you’d learned over the course of your life to just accept he did things at his own accord.

the rest of the walk to your apartment was in an awkward silence, although you could see charles was desperate to say something, the way he’d take a breath as if he was about to speak before holding off, and you’d been so close to screaming at him to just get it out before you saw your complex entrance.

"why did you want to walk me home?" the question had been eating away at you; lingering in your mind the whole time he was besides you, needing to know the answer.

"i told you, i don't like the idea of you walking home by yourself." charles spoke nonchalantly, as if it was a daily occurrence for him, seeing his ex girlfriend who he’d so delicately fucked up.

at his answer you let out a sarcastic laugh. "we both know that’s bullshit charles, you don't care about anyone who's not you," you eyed up the monegasque, searching his usually poetically handsome features for any reaction. "you never did care."

that struck a nerve in charles, his voice raising slightly as he spoke. "of course i fucking cared about you, i wouldn't have kept you around just so i could fuck you."

it took all your self restraint not to slap him in that moment, instead hoping the glare you were giving him was enough to kill him. swinging the door to your complex open you heard it slam behind you, wishing that it closed before he was able to get inside.

unfortunately though, your wishful thinking was just that and you could hear his footsteps just behind yours, echoing against the tiled walls, ringing in your ears like a sirens song. "go celebrate charles."

"i want to talk to you,"

"too bad." you replied, throwing him a bitter smile over your shoulder as the door to your apartment unlocked.

"just give me five minutes." no part of you wanted to turn to look at him, knowing the second you saw his eyes you would cave in. ultimately though, he didn’t even need to look at you before you conceded.

the door was opened just as quickly as it closed, charles' eyes scanning the apartment, which looked just as it had whilst you were together. in fact, you still had the miniature helmet he wore for his first win in spa, and the smaller replica trophy from his monza triumph, keepsakes of his success that you hadn’t bothered to throw away.

"you kept them?" you could hear in his voice he was surprised, charles had half expected to see them in a burning fire before he ever saw them in the same position on your mantelpiece.

your eyes drifted to where he was looking, a lump threatening to grow in your throat, part of you forgetting they were even there since they’d become a constant in tour apartment. "i haven't had a chance to clean, not been at home much recently." you would be lying if you said you weren't missing monaco, after all it was your home, your families home and your friends home.

charles silently nodded at your answer, the apartment falling into a deafening silence as you mulled over what to say next. "so anything new with you? any boyfriends?" he prepared himself for the inevitable 'yes' that you would answer with.

however that never came, shaking your head no as you questioned him with a confused look, still not entirely sure on why he was still standing in your apartment, or why you were even entertaining him.

"really? I didn't-"

“charles, is there something you actually want?" you cut him off abruptly, with him you never did have the same patience you did with others in your life.

"i told you i wanted to talk to you," you responded by raising your eyebrow as if to say 'about?' "pierre told me you went on a date and i wanted-"

you were beyond mad at this point, not only had he essentially followed you home but also had the audacity to ask about a date you had. "fuck off Charles, and tell Pierre he can fuck off too."

“so, did you?”

you owed him nothing, you knew that, he knew it too and yet something inside of you wanted to let his know, still felt obligated to tell him. "yes charles, i went on a date, and i'm sure you'll be happy to know it was shit."

"why? what happened?" he was pushing his luck and he knew it, one wrong word, a question to far and he was asking for a slap from you.

a part of you did want to slap him for continuing to ask these personal questions, he was nothing to you anymore, he wasn't apart of you life and he didn't deserve to be. But the other part, the half you'd hidden away the last few months, wanted him to know.

and unfortunately for you, that part won. "he couldn't get me off, there, happy? now can you fuck off?" you walked towards the door of your apartment, about to hold it open when you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.

before you could think your back was against the wall, charles' body flush against yours, his eyes finding yours instantly and you hated the way your stomach erupted in butterflies when they did.

you tried to wriggle away, charles' grip on your hands to strong for you to even budge. "poor guy couldn’t get you to come?” you responded with silence, not wanting to give nto his taunting. “told you i'd ruin other men for you, didn't i?" the monegasque couldn't hide hide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes at the implication.

scoffing at his words, you tried to break free of his grasp again, ultimately stopping when you made no progress, his hand held you own two above your head, his other lingering somewhere across your stomach. "you flatter yourselves charles, really, more than anyone else does."

he rolled his eyes, testing the waters as he leant in to press a singular kiss against your neck, a self satisfied smile spreading across his face when you tilted it back against the cold wall, allowing him for access. "always knew you could never stay away for too long. how long was it last time, 2, 3 months?”

truly, in that moment you hated yourself for giving into his advances, but it didn’t mean that you were going to go quietly. "last i checked you followed me, seems you’re the desperate one."

"and who's the one letting me fuck her after her date couldn't?"

"who said anything about you fucking me?" instead of answering Charles bit down into the skin on your neck, a small whimper falling from your lips, quickly shutting you up, as he soothed over the redness with his tongue.

each movement of his was controlled, calculated, he knew where he was going to touch you, when he was going to, almost as if he knew it was going to happen. something about the way he was slightly smiling when he brought your lips in for a kiss made you short of breath, knocking the air out of your lungs, with your skin tingling at the long forgotten play of intimacy. you melted into his embrace, every sense on high alert.

red flags went off in your head. he cheated on you, and you took him back. it was a viscous cycle where neither seemed strong enough to let go.

it was almost like you were drowning in the moment, in him, sinking so deep you were sure to meet mariana’s trench.

at this, you pulled away, your face was red hot, watching as his smug exterior faltered slightly, his cheeks fading a small hue of redness. your hands rested on his chest, his eyes slightly red from the lack of sleep he must've gotten. "you can't keep doing this, charles, it's not fair." your voice was weak as you spoke, not having the strength to look him in his eyes.

"if it's not fair, then why do you keep coming back to me?" the question was warranted, yet there was a slight part of you, deep inside that section of your heart reserved for him that thought this could work, that you would get back together and all would be right in the world.

you had no real answer for him, nothing you could offer him that you hadn’t said already, and you knew he wasn’t bound to change his mind about you now. "because i want to believe it'll work, even when we know it doesn't." charles' lips were millimetres away from yours, able to feel his breath fanning them as your eyes glanced down at them.

delicately, charles slid his hands over your hips before squeezing the skin, noticing the quick look to his lips he longed to kiss you again, to stay like this for a moment, it was easy like that, to forget he had to make a relationship work outside of kissing you. it was when you decided to look up, the memory of your kiss making your insides warm were you leaning forward to place another tender smooch on his lips, savoring it, may it be your last.

you knew you were making a mistake, but if you truly wanted to let him go, it was one you had to let yourself make. this was on your accords, not his.

charles' touch softened at your quick action, a faint blush forming on his cheeks. "I always knew you were the obsessed one" with the sudden whisper you voiced, he smiled sheep it at you. you held off from smiling back at him, allowing him to take you, holding your hand in his when you walked towards your once shared bedroom, nostalgia feeding the delusions that this wouldn’t be the last time.

the nights in monaco were never quiet, the weekends increasing tenfold and for the first time in years you welcomed the buzzing night life of your home country. his hands on your body were a sensation that brought back memories, good and bad, and you didn't even realize how much you had missed him on you.

for the past few months you’d tried to convince yourself and everyone around you that you didn't want him, that you were fine on your own but charles, as always, saw right through it. "i know you missed me, chérie, it's okay to admit it," he punctuated his words with a kiss on your cheek. "tu m'as manqué." i missed you

he had broken you a long ago and the only person who can pick up your pieces and make you whole again, was him.

"shut up and fuck me, charles." your hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head with no protest from him, in an attempt to get him to speed up.

"thought we didn't say anything about fucking you?" you hated the way the cocky smile on his face made a warmth pool in your stomach, turned you on like no one had before or after him.

you ignored his comment, turning round to let charles unzip the dress you had been wearing. his hands danced across the back of your shoulders, goosebumps rising on your warm skin as he slowly unzipped your dress. he leant in, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades, undoing it fully and watching as the material fell, black against the stark white sheets.

maybe it was symbolic, yin and yang, sinner and saint, darkness and light, charles and you.

underneath you had a matching red set on, the red lace complimenting your skin tone more than any other colour. "even when i'm not around your still wearing my colour." you rolled your eyes at his goading when he cupped your breasts, squeezing the soft skin slightly.

"red was always arthur’s favourite colour on me." your voice was shallow as you spoke, sighing contently as squeezed your soft skin, thumbs grazing over your nipples. your words were a call back to when you and charles had started dating, the last year of high school, arthur only 15 and you and charles 18.

it was a running joke in the family of his crush on you, the younger leclerc taking after the rest of his family in that he was never shy to let someone know how he felt, especially the girls.

you saw charles' eyes darken at the mention of his name, quick to bring your mouth in for another, much shorter, kiss as his hands ran up and down your body. with each passing minute you melted into him, his lips peppering your neck with wet kisses while travelling further down your body, nibbling on your tender skin downwards. the room was dimly lid, yet you could clearly view his eyes on you, locked on you like a predator with his prey, pupils blown out in a crazed look.

quickly, charles cleared the soaked lace that was in his way, leaving no barrier between himself and your bare cunt. "don't get shy on me now, chérie, open your legs."

you couldn’t you resist him much longer, or maybe you didn’t want to, spreading your legs as he placed himself right in between you, hiking your leg over his shoulder. his lips drifted down from your calf, closer and closer to the inside of your thigh before you could feel his breath on you, hyperaware of everything.

"fuck, you're so wet." your skin erupted with goosebumps with his first of many kisses on your clit, the tingling nerves anticipating further care from him. charles prodded his tongue out, flicking it over your sensitivity, pitiful sounding whines falling from your lips.

"don’t tease me.” you pleaded with him, watching as his eyes flashed up at you, a mischievous smile on his face before turning away again.

charles flattened his tongue against you, licking a stripe up the middle, working his mouth against you whilst also placing his middle finger against your clit. he circled your clit with his tongue, whimpers falling from your lips from the pleasure. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clutching at the bedsheets when you felt him push two of his fingers inside of you.

"look at how good you take my fingers, mon amour, just as you always did." Your thighs shook slightly when he pressed his tongue against your clit again alongside pumping his fingers in and out of you. your significant wetness was coating him, fingers easily moving as you clenched around them.

his mouth explored your every inch, his nose messily bumping against your clit when his tongue wasn't on it, your hand digging into his hair, keeping him there, pulling on the dark strands as groans sounded from him.

in between his taunts were words of praise, every second getting you closer and closer to the release you so desperately needed. your lips slumped into mindless pleading, with charles obliging, knowing full on well what you needed, he always did.

"forgot how good you taste." he made no attempt to tone down his crude language, making your cheeks rise up with heat, to have you writhe underneath him, not to mention with you succumbing to all of his attention on your neglected cunt.

you let out a louder moan, whining as he added a third finger, stretching you out more; more than you had been for at least a few months now. "charles, i'm so close." your pleading was futile, knowing charles was always the type of man to make you wait until he wanted you to come undone.

the clenching around his fingers made it even clearer that you were close, so close you were practically dancing around your release. "cmon, let go for me, chérie.” charles spoke in a low voice, his warm breath tickling your skin.

he help you ride through your first orgasm, his name the only thing on your tongue as your thighs shook around his head, your hands grasping at the grown out strands of his hair, charles letting his eyes glance up at you when you came. your back arched off the mattresses of the bed, the heels of your feet digging into charles' shoulders.

just when you thought he’d stop he didn’t relent, his fingers still moving inside of you, tongue pressed against your clit as he slowly circled it, you could hear the sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you, any other time and you’d be embarrassed by it. “s’too much, charles.”

“too much? one orgasm and it’s too much?” you nodded your head pitifully, hands reaching down to wrap around his wrist but it didn’t stop the movement of charle’s fingers. “what happened to my good girl? used to be able to at least give my fingers two.”

you knew where he was going with this, he wasn’t going to stop till you came again, wether it was on his tongue or with his fingers, and you whined when you felt them curl inside of you, feeling fuller than before somehow. already hypersensitive, it wasn’t long till the familiar rush came back to you, building in your stomach, the coil tightening till it once again snapped.

"never gonna be able to forget how good you sound moaning my name." his voice was tainted with, drawing out sloppy kisses on your belly, then breasts, wherever you let him he left marks in his wake. you let him explore and spoil you, shameless as he tenderly wrapped his lips around the erected nipple while rolling the other one between his fingers.

he puts out his hand for you, bringing you to match his height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "i want you to fuck me," you say almost breathlessly against his lips.

he hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop your bed. he lays you back against what once was your neatly set up pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "fuck, i want you so badly right now." you knew it was wrong but you revelled in his confession, that after everything he was still yearning for you.

charles pauses looking at your eyes, still despite everything looking for any shade of regret in them. when he sees nothing he takes the opportunity to make one of his snide remarks. "remember when you told me this wasn't going to happen again? always knew you were a good liar."

you craved the stretch of him, the stretch that no many years together could prepare you for and the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.

charles pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging in to his lightly tanned skin. charles' breathing staggers as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw.

he stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly. "don't fucking stop charles,” his face stays tucked in your neck, his hips rolling against yours forcing a moan from your lips.

“even wore my favourite perfume, were you planning on fucking me when you got ready, chérie?" he’d just picked up on it there, the same signature scent you had wore throughout your entire relationship being the first one you reach for, a sweet smell that he thought reflected on you perfectly.

"shut up." he swallows a laugh when he hears you cry out, featherlight touches against your skin, gently, enjoying the sounds that rose from you with the way slammed into you.

he held your gaze, your eyes overcome with desire, lust, sensing nothing but your hammering heartbeat on his chest.

his lips slightly parted after every thrust, he knew he needed this as much as you did, taking advantage of the momentary peace to try to catch his breath with your nails holding onto his back, branding his skin with crescent shaped indents.

his little words of praise worked contradictory with his continuous taunts, teasing you as he nipped at your exposed skin.

your hands raked over his taut muscles, earning a grown from the man above you as your nails scratched against his back. charles pulled your hands in his own, placing them above your head before increasing the rhythm on his hips, steadier, deeper, not to mention pushing you closer to your release.

charles bought his face closer to yours, his lips just lightly brushing over your ear. "i want you to ride me, put on a show."

you couldn't help but moan at his words, nodding your head before switching positions, charles staying inside as you straddled his lap, knees locked in on either side of his thighs, his eyes meeting yours and you could see how desperate he was in that moment.

he was sat further up on the bed, your nails raking down his chest, leaving more, deeper, marks sure to last. lips pressed against the side of his neck, biting down on the skin before soothing over it and moving onto another place.

his adams apple bobbed as you took more of the control, setting your own pace despite his hands on your hips trying to make you go faster. charles brought his thumb down to your clit, circling it which had your thighs shaking around him.

charles' name fell from your mouth more than anything else, him and your pleasure your two sole focuses.

he could see the tiredness start to come through in your movements, choosing to take more control wether you complained or not. he began thrusting up into you with his hands on your hips, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit determine to make you come at least once more.

your thighs tried closing around charles' midriff from the overwhelming sensitivity, although he was there to keep them open, a hand on the top of both of your thighs forcing them open.

clenching around him one last time you felt him release inside of you, the warm feeling of him so deep inside of you making you whine. charles let out a string of curse words, your name at the forefront when he let out one last groan, slumping back against your pillows altogether his hands didn’t stop the movement of your hips.

within the whirlwind of emotions, you desperately clenched around him, with this position your heart was racing, dipping into the mattress with soft gusts of breath departing from your lips. the raw drag of him was somehow more extreme, pursing your mouth when you felt a bead of sweat rolling down your temple.

his own orgasm brought on yours, your bodies in-tune with each other as if he’d never left. you were completely ruined, mind going blank as you felt yourself losing full control of your body to charles, vision a blinding white as your body felt hot all over.

the monegasque brought you in for a short kiss, leaving for the bathroom when you rolled off of him and coming back with a dampened towel, helping you clean up.

you both knew it was the last time you had together, the last time you would ever share a bed together, the last kiss.

and the thought of that had you clutching onto each other in your sleep just a bit tighter.

although before you did eventually fall asleep, you heard charles whisper one last thing in your ear, his confession bringing the smallest of smiles to your face.

"je serai toujours à toi."

tag list:

@irmpyrz @tempo-rary-fix @formulas-bitch @yunnie-f1 @julesandro @itsjustkhaos @janeh22 (a year later and i finally have something to tag yous in!!)

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader

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messiahzzz · 3 days

Text

as much as i dislike the dialogue option that leads to this scene, i genuinely appreciate gale's response. it is easy to overlook what he is actually trying to convey here and is instead commonly dismissed as him being "overdramatic" or as a display of his bruised ego.

player: it was fine. gale: i see. gale: well, fine is... fine. nobody weeps because the weather is fine. no monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. no artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine. player: would you have rather i lied? gale: the dignified thing for me to say is 'no. of course not. forthrightness before all.' but honestly? yes... i would have rather you lied. gale: i'm just a man. an imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power. gale: perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel. gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

gale is no stranger to introspection. despite having his natural blindspots, he is fully aware of his flaws and imperfections. he lacks an inherent sense of self-preservation, displays impatience on occasion, can be hypocritical, has trouble handling pointed criticism well, and has a tendency to respond in passive aggression if he feels his competence is brought into question. he seeks admiration and is known to not honor his limitations and own safety for the sake of receiving praise.

gale: [...] people have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'

gale is not blind to how he is perceived by others, nor does he dismiss their conclusions without careful consideration. instead of deflecting he simply takes what they dish out and files it away for later contemplation and inspection.

player: because you acted the idiot. and paid the price for it too. gale: as always, i endeavor to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it. gale: blunt as your summation is - it's correct. i dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. the hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.

player: i can't say i share the same high opinion of you, gale. gale: always bringing such candour to our conversations. some would think twice about mocking gale of waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut. nodecontext: playing along, making fun of himself gale: i like that about you. it's one of your rarer qualities, though i fear my ego can take no more of it tonight. nodecontext: cheerfully accepting the brush off, not taking it personally

needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel.

gale craves as mortals do. for relevance, safety, consideration, loyalty, care, acceptance, and love. he's desperate, he's angry, he's petty and hurt and lonely. he's contradictory, and at times inconsistent. he's afraid, he stumbles, he yearns. if he loves, he does so with all his heart but forgets to extend the same love to himself. he gains understanding only to disregard it later. he is absorbed yet devoted. he expects kindness but is bewildered when it is extended to him in turn. he's neither a perfect colleague, a perfect companion, a perfect lover, nor a perfect husband. he's just another human who's trying to navigate and make sense of the world. who is silently hoping for his soul to be handled with tenderness and care, to finally be seen for who he is —no need for performance or pretense — and to be unconditionally cherished nonetheless.

a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.

he knows the burden he carries. understanding that even a momentary lapse in judgment could spell catastrophe if he doesn't exert tight control over his emotions at all times. he knows what is at stake should he lose the composure he painstakingly had to master. a mere moment is all it takes. this self-assessment isn't an "indirect threat" intended to subject pressure on tav or solicit pity, it's a stark acknowledgment of the truth. he is a fragile human, housing powers that should've never been his in the first place.

player: unbelievable. did you ever think what would happen if the tadpole got the better of you? gale: every waking moment. every dreaming moment too. but there was no way out.

he is also keenly aware of how his (former) colleagues perceive him, following his fall from grace.

player: bold. few would dare to reduce a goddess to their 'muse.' gale: i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

this line in particular is one i often think about. it makes me wonder about the extent of information gale received from the outside world after locking himself in his tower for an entire year, setting magical wards so no one but tara would be able to enter. did he hear the whispers? ("shunned by the goddess of magic herself, of course, it was only a matter of time before he flew too close to the sun.") were his colleagues ridiculing him, applauding mystra for cutting off the rot at the source? how did he arrive at the assumption that he is perceived as "the villain" and not the victim?

player: you must have been lonely, with only tara for company.. gale: sometimes. but i imposed it upon myself, after all. i set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.

or is this solely his own harsh judgment of his folly? that there is no chance anyone would meet him with sympathy, kindness and understanding after what he had wrought. he was too greedy, too impatient — selfish in arrogance, ravenous in ambition. letting delusions of grandeur guide him. he brought it all upon himself with his lack of patience. entirely convinced of his success and skill, blind to the possibility of failure. now doomed to drag innocents into the abyss with him. the hallmarks of a villain, right? after all, who would truly believe him that his ambition hid no ill will?

players: by rights. i should kill you. gale: perhaps that is what i deserve, but you deserve no such thing. [...]

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 meta #another pet peeve of mine is how he is often portrayed in romantic dynamics that readily dismiss his own needs #its always about what he can do for his partner. what he can provide them. its about making him the perfect patient & selfless accessory #that will make all of ther woes and worries go away with his love and devotion alone #his own boundaries and wants aren't nearly as important #if at all #it speaks #fandom critical #(i guess?)

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morgana-larkin · 3 days

Note

Okay hear me out. Ik this might be alot like another prompt from another author but i love it and wanna see ur spin on it. Pure fem! Reader and melissa just dying to corrupt her and have some fun.

Hi! I think I know the exact fic you’re referring too! I’m so happy that you want to see my spin on it. And here it is! So much longer than I expected but I don’t think anyone will complain. Due to me being stuck in bed with a twisted ankle, I’ll be able to write another fic! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: Due to a bit of confusion about who I write for, I will add to my masterlist who I write for. Also, since I will be starting to write for other characters, I changed my taglist to a Melissa and Chessy taglist. If you want to be on my main taglist for when I write for Marilyn, Misty and Moiraine, then let me know!

Italian translations:

Dio mio - oh my god

Mia angelo - my angel

Bella - beautiful

Amo il tuo corpo e voglio rivendicarlo - I love your body and want to claim you

Il Suo Angelo (Her Angel)

Warnings: pure innocent reader, horny af Mel, smut, lots of teasing, fluffy Mel

Words: 8.6k (have fun! 😉)

You walked in the break room and made a beeline for the coffee machine.

“Wow kid, if you went any faster I’d think you’re a speedster or something.” Melissa said and you looked at her and chuckled. And at that Ava walked in and walked to coffee machine but then stood by it and waited till you were done.

“Caffeine is my saviour lately, I’ve been so stressed lately.” You told her.

“Oh girl, what you need is to get you some. Then all the stress will disappear.” Ava piped up and you looked at her confused.

“Some what?” You asked her and Melissa glanced over at you.

“Some sex.” Ava said, blunt as ever and you blushed.

“Oh um, I don’t know. I want my first time to be special.” You told her.

“You’re a virgin?” Ava asked and you nodded. “Girl, look at you, how have you not had sex yet?” And you blushed and looked down at the ground.

“Um, I- I don’t know.” You said and took your coffee and sat down at a free table near Melissa and Barb.

“Hey kid.” Melissa says and you turn to look at her.

“Ya?”

“Are you one of those people that waits until marriage?” Melissa asked and you blushed.

“Uh no. Just um never got a chance to and wasn’t really a big discussion or something that was talked about in my family.” You told her.

“Are you saying your parents never explained sex to you before?” She asked and you blushed and looked down at the ground. Melissa got up and walked over to you, you saw her heeled boots and leather pants and looked up at her face. “Are you uncomfortable with talking about it?”

“A little bit.” You admit and she smirked.

“You don’t have to be kid. Just don’t talk about it with the students as you’re not a sex Ed teacher. But we’re adults here, and it’s fun to do.” She tells you and your eyes widen at that.

“Melissa!” Barb says to stop her.

“What? It’s not like you’re a virgin.” Melissa says to Barb.

“Well I know but no need to traumatise the poor girl.” Barb scolds her and Melissa sighs then looks at you.

“How old are you?” She asks you.

“Um I’m 27.” You tell her and everyone looks at you with wide eyes. “What?” You ask everyone.

“You’re 27, you’re a virgin and uncomfortable with the discussion of sex.” Melissa tells you and your cheeks go red.

“It’s also a bit hard to find dates when you like women.” You say and she smirks.

“Alright I’ll give you that, but since you’re new to Philly, I’ll just tell you that it’s a little easier to find dates with women here.” Melissa tells you, leaning down towards you a bit and you unconsciously lick your lips and stare at her.

Melissa walks back to her seat and goes back to her phone like nothing happened, while you go back to your coffee.

On the outside, it seems like Melissa isn’t doing anything different, but on the inside, in her brain is another story. She saw how you reacted to her and she finds it very interesting that you seem so innocent. Maybe she can have some fun with you.

At the end of the day, Melissa passes by your classroom like always and sees you sitting in your chair, writing something. She goes over to your door and knocks.

“Hi Melissa.” You say when you look up.

“Hey kid. Whatcha working on?” She asks and you sigh.

“I’m a little behind on grading.” You say with a small pout. “The lessons are a bit difficult for them so I haven’t had a lot of time to grade since I’m answering questions most of the time.” And she nods, then an idea pops in her head.

“Maybe I could keep you company?” She offers and you freeze.

“Wh-what?” You ask her and she smiles.

“I could keep you company if you want.” She offers again.

“Oh that’s really sweet but I don’t want to inconvenience you or ruin your night.” You tell her and she smiles softly at you, you’re so sweet and innocent she thinks.

“It’s not a problem hon. I don’t have any plans tonight and it was just going to be a boring night at home by myself on the couch.” She tells you.

“Well I won’t force you to stay or go, but if you want to stay then I wouldn’t mind the company.” You say with a sweet smile.

She grins at you and then grabs one of the students chair and brings it your desk to sit right across from you. Let the teasing begin, she thinks to herself.

“So” she starts, after about 10 seconds of silence. “How come your family never discussed sex?” She asks and you whip your head at her and blush.

“Oh um. I don’t know, it just wasn’t.” You tell her.

“Sheltered life then?” She asks you.

“I guess a bit.” You say with a shrug and then get back to grading. Melissa leans forward and puts her chin on her hands and smirks.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” She asks so casually. And you look up at her confused.

“Sorry, a what?” You ask and she tilts her head a bit.

“An orgasm hon.” She repeats and you look confused.

“What’s an orgasm?” You ask, and inside Melissa is beaming with mischief.

“An orgasm is a build up of pleasure when having sex.” She says and your face goes red. “And when it’s released, all the feel good hormones and emotions come with it.” She explains and you stare at her like a deer in the headlights. While she has your attention, she moves her arms down to be placed casually on the desk and leans forward. Her arms push her chest up a bit and with the shirt she’s wearing with a v-dip in the front, it gives you a nice view of her cleavage. Melissa pretends to be looking at the paper you’re grading, but she saw you glance down at her chest and lick your lips. “So you never touched yourself?” She asks and it takes a second for your brain to process that she spoke, and then another second to process what she said and you look at her confused again.

“What do you mean touch myself? Touch where?” You ask and Melissa is grinning.

“Touch yourself down there.” She says and points to in between your legs.

“Well I do when I go to the bathroom.” You say, confused to what she’s getting at.

“I meant, touch yourself… sexually.” She explains and your face goes redder than her hair.

“Wh-what? Why-why would I do that?” You say and sit up a bit straight.

“Because, it feels good.” She says with a shrug. “So you’ve never done that either?” She asks.

“No I haven’t.” You tell her and Melissa is beaming with excitement on the inside. Oh, all the ways she can corrupt you.

“So, your little innocent act isn’t an act at all. You’re actually a good girl.” She tells you and your eyes widen a little bit and Melissa notices the effect her words have on you. They say it’s the shy innocent ones you gotta look out for. And you are so innocent, it’s adorable, Melissa thinks.

Melissa stopped so that you wouldn’t be wondering why she’s suddenly curious about that part of your life…at least for today. She just carries on a normal conversation with you. Until the next day…

At the end of the day she stopped by your classroom again. “Still more grading?” She asks and you look up at her.

“M afraid so.” You say. “They’ve done 2 tests and a project in the past 2 weeks and I was starting to get behind but now I’m very behind.” You tell her and she walks in.

“Want some company again?” She asks and you glance up at her. You wanna say yes cause you are attracted to her but yesterday she asks a few questions and you’re wondering why it was on the topic that it was. But of course, your want for her to be close wins over.

“Sure, that’d be nice. Thank you.” You tell her with a smile. Instead of bringing a chair over, she sits on the desk closest to yours. You can’t help but stare as she sits with her legs slightly apart, a bit more than what is considered normal. And she’s also leaning back a bit with her hands on the desk.

“Have you been on dates? Been in relationships?” She asks and you let out a sigh of relief. Glad it’s not on the topic it was yesterday.

“Yes, I’ve been on a few dates. I’ve had one relationship but it didn’t last long. Like maybe 2-3 months.” You tell her.

“3 months and you didn’t have sex with her?” She asks and you groan very quietly.

“Why? Is that bad?”

“Well, not really. I mean it’s the people in the relationship that choose that. But typically people have sex within the first 3-8 weeks of a relationship.” She explains.

“She broke up with me because we didn’t have…you know. And because there was no discussion about it either.” You tell her. On the outside she was nodding in understanding, on the inside, she was smirking. You were so innocent you didn’t want to even say sex. God, she’s going to have a lot more fun with you. It helps that she’s attracted to you and you’re attracted to her.

Melissa got off the desk and leaned on your desk. “I’m not saying that you should have had sex with her, you know. It’s at your pace.” Even though she’s having fun with you, she wants to make sure that you don’t feel bad. You had a difficult time listening to what she was saying as her cleavage was right there. Melissa smirks as she catches on and she gets an idea. She goes to move her hands off the desk and straighten her posture but “accidentally” knocks a pen off your desk. “Oh sorry, I’ll get it.” She tells you and walks the 2 steps over and bends down. She makes sure to bend down so her ass was on display for you. When she bent down, she glanced very quickly at your reaction and you were staring right at her ass like she wanted. She stood back up and put the pen back on your desk. She wonders how else she can corrupt and tease you.

She does this for the next 2 days, just gives you little views of her cleavage, and ass if the opportunity presents itself.

On Friday is when she got a little more mischievous. She visits you in your classroom like normal as you're almost done grading all of the tests. She sits on a desk again and starts up a conversation with you. 20 minutes later and you finish grading with a smile.

“There! Finally finished.” You say and she claps.

“Congrats! Now they can stop pestering you.” She jokes and you laugh.

“Ya, first graders aren’t known for their patience.” You say and she giggles.

“Neither are second graders.” She jokes back with you and you laugh. You put the tests in a basket neatly to be handed back to them tomorrow and you stand up to get your things ready. Melissa gets off the desk and walks over to you without you hearing her.

Once all your things are in your bag, you sling it over your shoulder and turn around. You nearly bump into Melissa and you see her cleavage again. Melissa is smiling as she wore a push up bra and a shirt that makes her tits look amazing while still being appropriate for school. You tilt your head up and look at her. You then step to your left and try to psss by her but she stops you with an arm. She puts her hand on the board to stop you from leaving and she moves a bit so she’s in front of you with your back on the board. Your face goes red with the close proximity and you don’t know what to do.

“M-mel- Melissa? What are you doing?” You stutter out and she smiles.

“Nothing hon. Do I make you nervous?” She asks you and your cheeks turn pink.

“A little bit.” You admit nervously.

“Hmm, and why do I make you nervous?” And you don’t know how to respond to that.

“Um, well I - you… um. You just do.” You settle on that and she smirks at you. You then duck under her arm and speed walk out of there. Melissa isn’t at all disappointed that you found an escape, she’s finding it amusing that you basically bolted out of there while trying to be subtle.

During the weekend, you thought about how close Melissa was to you and then you for some reason felt a wetness between your thighs that only happened one other time before and you’re not sure what it meant. You googled it and most of them say it’s a result of getting turned on and you decide to ignore that fact and try to focus on other things. Try being the important word. Your thoughts keep shifting back to Melissa and her perfect cleavage, her perfect ass, the close proximity, her amazing smile and almost glowing hair that’s perfect for her. You rub your thighs together and then you freeze, why did you do that? And why are you wet again? All these thoughts keep your weekend busy. And then you wake up Monday morning and prepare for another week. Maybe now you won’t have thoughts of Melissa that makes you feel weird things. Oh were you wrong.

You went in the break room and there Melissa was, glasses on and she’s leaning slightly to the desk, writing something. Her perfect cleavage on display and she looks really pretty with glasses on. With or without glasses she looks pretty. You try not to stare at her and go to the coffee machine.

“Hello dear. How was your weekend?” Barb asks you and you turn to her. You go to answer and then you see Melissa smiling at you and your mouth stays slightly open for a couple seconds. And then you remember you were asked a question.

“It-it was good, just a relaxing weekend. Got all my grading done last week so I pretty much just enjoyed the weekend.” You tell her and she smiles at you. You then glance at Melissa and she winks at you, your cheeks turn pink a bit at that.

“That’s good to hear dear. You deserve a stress free weekend.” Barb tells you.

“Thank you. Ho-how was your weekend?” You ask her and she goes into explaining her day out with Gerald. She tried listening but you saw Melissa smiling at you, at some point she took off her glasses and put the tip of it in her mouth. And to top it off, she crosses her arms in a way that pushes her breast up and you lose all brain function. All of that happens in the space of 3 minutes but it feels like much longer. “What about you Melissa?” You ask her when Barb is done.

“It was good, hon. Like you I stayed home, and de-stressed.” She sends you another wink when Barb isn’t looking and you widen your eyes a bit.

After you go to your classroom and continue out the day. When all your students leave, you pack up your things and hear someone come in. Although you know who came in as you recognize the sound of her heels, Melissa.

“Hey hon.” She says and you turn around as she’s walking in.

“Hey Melissa. I don’t need any company today as all my grading is done.” You tell her, you were a littl disappointment, you were starting to like spending that time with her.

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. It was a nice little routine last week.” She tells you and you nod. She walks towards you a bit more until she’s 2 feet away from you. “Want to know more about my weekend?” She asks with a deeper voice and you shiver a little bit. You think she didn’t notice as she didn’t react or say anything but she did notice.

“Um sure.” You tell her with a slight stutter.

“Well as I said I stayed home and de-stressed.” She began and you nodded. “Well want to know how I de-stressed?” She said and she walked towards you and you walked back a bit until you ran into the chalkboard. She pressed her body against yours a bit, leaned towards your ear and whispered the answer. “I imagined you in my bed, underneath me. Then I put my hand between my legs, I fingered myself and rubbed my clit until I had an orgasm. And I said your name when I did.” She tells you and then pulls her head back and looks at your face.

Your mouth is slightly open in shock, your eyes wide, cheeks flushed, your breathing deepened, and you rubbed your thighs together. Melissa is smiling at your reaction.

“Hmm, you know you’re cute when you react like that.” She tells you as she tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. Your still frozen in shock and don’t respond to her. She gently strokes down your arm with two fingers. “Hmm, you’re so innocent, hon. Do you like it when I think about you like that?” She asks, and your cheeks turn red.

“I-um…I-you… uh, um, like…” you stutter and she smirks at you.

“Oh hon, did I make you speechless?” She asks with mock sympathy. She knows exactly what she’s doing to you and how she affects you and she’s enjoying it. “Why don’t I make it up to you hm. How about on Friday after school, you come over to my place and I’ll cook you dinner.” She says and you’re speechless again. “You can nod or shake your head as an answer.” She tells you, deciding to take a little bit of pity on you. You nod your head and she smiles. “Perfect.” She tells you. She grabs her phone and presses a couple things then looks at you. “What’s your number?” She asks and you look at her confused. “So I can text you my address.” She explains and you gulp. You then muster up enough courage to give her your number. She then sends a text and your phone vibrates in your pocket with a notification. She looks at you with a smirk. “Hope that’s not the only thing you have that vibrates.” She says and you look at her confused. She decides to not explain it and instead reaches for your phone, she slides her hand down you a bit, sticks her hand a bit in your pocket and wraps her hand around your phone and tugs it out. She then slides her hand up between you both and hands you your phone. “You can look up what I meant. Search what vibrators are for.” She tells you with a wink and then she walks out with a sway in her hips.

You stare at her ass as she walks out, completely mesmerized. At home you look up vibrators and your face goes red at what it says they’re for. She said a sexual innuendo and it went right over your head with your lack of knowledge on the subject.

The rest of the week goes by normally. Melissa doesn’t have an opportunity to drop by your classroom as she’s busy. She still sends winks your way when she can. And she bends over for you to see her cleavage when you’re looking, especially in the break room. And when she walks away from where you are, she sways her hips more so you can stare at her ass moving. On Friday she stops by your classroom briefly at the end of the day.

“Hey hon.”

“H-hi Melissa.”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re still coming over tonight.” She tells you.

“Of-of course. I’ve heard great things about your cooking and wouldn’t miss the opportunity.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well good, you won’t be disappointed. A meal you won’t forgot.” She tells you with a slightly deeper voice and winks after. You feel your mouth dry and in between your legs get wet and you gulp.

“Do-” you squeak out then clear your throat as your mouth was dry. “Do you want me to bring anything?” You ask her and she walks closer to you and puts a finger under your chin.

“Hmm, just need to bring your pretty self.” She hums and you blush. You forgot how to English for a second and decide to nod in reply. She smiles at you and hums again. “Good.” She says and sways her hips as she walks out. She stops when she reaches the door, puts her hand on the doorframe and glances back at you. “Show up at 6, don’t be late.” She tells you and winks. She then continues walking to her car, leaving you in your classroom, stunned for a minute. Your body then remembers how to work and you walk to your car to get home to change.

You get home and strip out of your work clothes. You suddenly don’t know what to wear, she said it wasn’t a date but you want it to be a date, and want to impress her as you have a crush on her . You then decide to put a robe on and video chat your older sister.

“Hey you, what’s up?” She says when she picks up.

“Hey sis, I need your help. So I have a crush on a coworker. And she invited me over for dinner to her place. She never said it was a date but I still want to impress her.” You explain to her and she chuckles.

“So you need help choosing an outfit?” She asks and you nod. “Alright, show me what options you were thinking of and I’ll let you know if it’s a yes or no.” She says and you nod. You spend the next 20 minutes showing her your clothes as she said no to everything you were thinking of wearing. You then settled on an outfit you both agreed looks good. You then thank her and she makes you promise to tell her all about it tomorrow, and hangs up.

You then shower, blow dry your hair, and brush your teeth. You put on your outfit, which is a cute dark purple dress that stops mid thigh, with a small v-dip and black stockings, with small heels that are black, and a fancy black sweater to complete the look. You then quickly curl the bottom half of your hair then keep it all down. You then apply a bit of purple eyeshadow, some mascara and tinted lip balm. You realise it’s time to go and you grab your purse and head to her place.

You arrive at 5:57 and you take a minute to breath and calm your heart down and give yourself a small pep talk. “Ok remember y/n, she’s a coworker and friend. She may be your crush but try and keep all thoughts of kissing her out of your head.” You say, then let out another breath before getting out and walking to her door.

You knock on her door and she opens it with a smile. You should have added more to your pep talk then just thoughts of kissing her. As she’s wearing a low cut red shirt, that shows her cleavage more than the shirts she wears at school does. She also has on black leggings and her hair up in a ponytail with her bangs framing her face perfectly. You stare at her and forgot to say anything as your brain is busy processing the outfit.

“Wow, you look nice angelo.” She tells you, and if you paid any attention to her eyes you would have noticed her pupils are a bit blown as her eyes roam up and down your body.

“Th-thanks, so do you.” You say and she smiles.

“Thank you.”

“What did you call me?” You ask her

“Angelo, it means angel.” She says and you smile. “Come on in.” She tells you.

“Are you sure? Your mat says go away.” You say with a smile to show her that you’re joking and she giggles.

“That’s because I only let a few people come inside.” She tells you and you blush. You had no idea that you were one of the select few that she’s invited to her house. You nervously step inside her house and she closes the door behind you and you take your heels off.

“Wow, you have a lovely home. Not at all what I expected.” You tell her and she laughs.

“Oh ya? And what did you expect to see?” She asks you as she leads you to the kitchen.

“I don’t know to be honest. I haven’t figured you out yet. But I guess one that has a little less, homey feeling I suppose.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“If it makes you feel better about your expectation, I have about 5 bats hidden around the house.” She tells you and you smile.

“Now that does sound like you. I’m honestly less surprised you have bats hidden than I was about what your house looks like.” You joke and she giggles.

You enter her kitchen and you’re immediately surrounded with the smell of dinner and your stomach grumbles. “Now are you too innocent for wine or do you drink that?” She asks you with a slight smirk but she’s also curious.

“I do have a glass from time to time. Mostly at family gatherings. Which is about 4-5 times a year.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well is it alright if I pour you a glass?” She says and shows you the bottle.

“That’s my favourite!” You tell her and she beams.

“Really? Mine too.” She tells you and pours some in a glass for you. “I knew you must have good taste.” She says and hands you a glass.

“Thank you.” You tell her and you both clink your glasses together and then take a sip. Then the oven dings and Melissa puts down her glass and walks over to it. She slips on an oven mitt, opens the oven and takes out the food. You see the food and you have no idea what it is but it looks good. “Wow, that looks amazing! What is it?” You ask her and she smiles at you.

“It’s skillet chicken cacciatore.” She tells you and you smile.

“It’s Italian?” You ask her and she nods. Wow, Italian accent is beautiful, you think.

“You think I’m beautiful when I speak Italian?” She asks you and you realise you said it out loud and you blush.

“Did I say that out loud?” You ask her and she nods with a smirk.

“Is there a translation for the last word?” You ask.

“For cacciatore?” She asks and you nod. “Yep, it means hunter.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “I don’t know the story behind the name. That’s just what it’s called and you don’t ask questions.” She tells you as she puts some on 2 plates and you laugh.

“Alright then. No questions, got it.” You tell her and she tells you to bring the wine and guides you to the dinner table.

You two sit down and then you take a bite and you let out a moan at how good it tastes. You look over to see Melissa holding her glass with a smirk.

“What?” You ask her.

“I knew I would like how you sound when you moan.” She tells you then takes a sip of the wine.

“Where else would I make that noise?” You ask her.

“In bed.” She says so casually as she cuts up a piece of the chicken. “When someone or yourself is giving you pleasure.” She tells you and she slides her foot up your leg. You choke on the food as you swallow, from her foot touching you like that or her comment, you’re not sure. She leans back in her chair and takes a bite of the food with a smile on her face.

You watch as a bit of sauce is at the corner of her lips and she licks it off with her tongue. You stare and she smirks when she sees you staring. You realise she’s looking at you staring and you sheepishly go and cut up a piece of food and look down.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed about staring at me. I know you find me attractive.” She tells you and you freeze. You were about to take a bite as your fork is right in front of your mouth and your mouth is open. The piece of chicken falls off your fork and lands in a spot with some sauce and some flies to your face.

“Ah.” You yelp as you were surprised and Melissa snorts.

“Here hon.” She says as she takes your chin and turns your head to face her. She uses her thumb to wipe off where it got you and it seems it got you a few times. She wipes off the spot underneath your eye, on your cheek and right under your bottom lip. Melissa freezes and keeps her thumb at your bottom lip and then she traces it. You have no idea what’s going on but you don’t stop her. You start breathing heavier and she pulls back and goes to continue eating. You don’t comment on it and just continue eating. Once you’re both done, you clear the table and give the plates a quick rinse as she puts the leftovers in containers and then puts them in the fridge. She closes the fridge door as you dry your hands.

“Thank you for dinner and the wine Melissa it was really go-” you’re cut off as you turn around and Melissa lips are on yours. You kiss her back after a second when your brain starts working again. She presses you into the counter and you gasp, Melissa takes the opportunity and slips her tongue in and tastes you. You put your hands in her hair and remember she has a ponytail and you whine. She pulls back and laughs.

“Are you upset I have my hair in a ponytail?” She asks and you nod with a pout. “Hmm, well you know, there’s an easy fix.” She tells you and she slowly slides the elastic down and then shakes her head a few times to put her hair in place. “There, better?” She asks you and nod. She smiles then goes back to kissing you. You immediately put your hands in her hair and she moans into the kiss and you pull back.

“Is that the kind of pleasure you were talking about for that sound?” You ask her and she chuckles.

“Oh hon, you have no idea the kind of pleasure I can give you that’ll have you moaning like crazy.” She purrs in your ear and you shiver. The wet feeling between your legs is back and you rub your thighs together and Melissa notices. “Are you turned on hon?” She asks and you widen your eyes. Oh so Google was right about what that means. You nod at her and she smiles. “If you want, I can help you with that.” She tells you.

“How would you do that?”

“Well it would require you to lose your virginity.” She tells you and you open your mouth in shock. “And before you ask, yes, that feeling between your thighs, your pussy is wet cause you’re turned on and it gets wet so it doesn’t hurt when something is sliding in there.” She tells you.

“Sliding in there? You mean like a tampon?” You ask and she giggles.

“You’re so adorable.” She says and boops your nose. “No, I mean like my fingers.” She tells you. “For straight sex, it would be that a dick slides in you.” She tells you and your eyes widen. “I’m not going to do anything you're not comfortable with. But my offer is still available if you want to take care of that feeling right here.” She says and taps on your pussy and you flinch and let out a small yelp. “Either me or your own fingers.” She tells you and you look at her eyes that are full blown. You cup her cheek and trace under her eye with your thumb.

“Where did the green in your eyes go?” You ask her and she smiles.

“My eyes are blown. It’s what happens when you get turned on and want to have sex.” She tells you and your breath hitches. “Your eyes are blown too.” She tells you and you blush. It takes you about 5 seconds to come to a decision about her offer. It took 4 seconds of being distracted by her face and then one second to come to a decision.

“I want you to help me with the feeling.” You said a little embarrassed and nervous.

“Oh hon, you’ll have to ask me properly.” She told you and you whined as she pressed herself against your body. “Come on, you can do it.” She told you as she gently bit your ear.

“I-I want to have…” and you paused. Melissa pulled back and looked at you.

“What is it hon? Why can’t you say the word?” She asked you.

“Because I grew up thinking that you shouldn’t think about it or say it.” You told her and she stroked her cheek.

“Oh hon, it’s not a bad thing to vocalise that you want sex.” She told you. “Come here.” She said and she lead you to her bedroom. “Go sit on the foot of the bed.” She says and you obeyed while she closed the door and then walked over to you. “Now I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, and I won’t touch you unless you want me too but I do want to show you what I look like under my clothes, ok?” She tells you, thinking maybe you’ll be more comfortable when you see another woman’s body naked. You nod at her and she smiles.

She pulls her top off slowly, exposing all the skin of her stomach and you stare at all the soft looking skin and can’t help but touch it. So you do. She lets out a yelp and you pull back thinking you shouldn’t have.

“No no, it’s ok baby. You just surprised me as my shirt was covering my eyes.” She tells you and puts your hand back on her stomach. You feel all over her and you want more so you stand up. You move your hand to the back and hover over her bra clip. “Go on baby. You can unclip it.” She tells you and you do and take her bra off. Then you pull back and look at her. And you’re surprised you don’t faint right there. She looked so, so…

“Sexy.” You slip out and she smiles.

“Thank you, baby.” She tells you and you don’t even care right now about your thoughts.

“Melissa.” You tell her and she looks into your eyes.

“Yes baby?” She asks.

“I want…” you start and she just looks at you, letting you take your time. “I want… I want to have sex with you.” You say and she smiles.

“Well ask and receive baby.” She tells you and she kisses you again.

She then travels down to your neck and starts sucking and you let out a moan. She then starts to slowly lift your dress up and then you pull back and put your arms up, allowing her to take it off. She then unclips your bra and takes it off and looks at you.

“You’re so beautiful, Bella.” She says, remembering you liked it when she spoke Italian. You let out a groan and rub your thighs together. “Hmm, is me speaking Italian a turn on for you?” She asks and you nod. She pushes you on the bed and straddles your lap. “Well then.” She says and smirks, then pushes you more on the bed. “Amo il tuo corpo e voglio rivendicarlo.” She says seductively while grinding on you and you whine. “It means, I love your body and want to claim it.” She says and you put your hands on her.

“I want you to claim me, Mel.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Mel hm, I like it.” She tells you and you blush. She attacks your neck again and you gasp. It feels incredible what she’s doing on your neck. She then trails down to your chest and leaves kisses all over it, worshipping your body as it should be. She then takes a nipple in her mouth and you see stars. She then remembers that you’ve never masturbated either, never touched yourself. So she thinks she should probably go easy on you so you don’t get too overstimulated. “If it becomes too much for you, then let me know, ok?” She says and you nod.

“Keep going please. It feels amazing.” You tell her and she smiles and goes back to your nipple. You continue to let out gasps and moans as she swirls her tongue around your nipples and sucking on them.

“I’m so honoured.” She says as she runs her hands all over your chest and stomach. “Not only will I be your first, but I’ll also be the first person to ever give you pleasure, and that includes yourself. I can’t believe you went this long without it.” She tells you and you buck your hips and whine. “Alright since you’ve never had it before, I won’t keep you waiting much longer. But just know, in the future, I will.” She adds and you look at her.

“So there’ll be more?” You ask her and she tilts her head and looks at you.

“I mean if you want.” She says cautiously.

“Of course, I’ve been attracted to you since I started.” You tell her and she smiles at you.

“Good, cause I’m attracted to you as well.” She tells you. “I can take you on a date tomorrow if you want.” She offers and you nod. “Alright now, time to make you feel good.” She tells you and gets off the bed and takes your tights off. “You looked so innocent and adorable in that dress and tights. But I think you look better with them both off.” She then puts her fingers on your underwear and looks at you, you nod at her and she takes your underwear off. She then looks at you completely bare for her and she smiles warmly at you. “You look beautiful.” She says with a hum and you smile. “You look even more beautiful with a smile.” She adds and you blush.

She then gets on her knees, pulls your body closer to the edge of the bed, then does a big lick up your entire pussy. You gasp out and she moans at your taste.

“You taste amazing, mia angelo .” She says and licks your entrance while you gasp and moan at the amazing way her tongue is moving on you. You can’t help but grab her hair and run your fingers through her beautiful red locks. You keep bucking your hips so Melissa pins you down and then slides her tongue in your entrance and you let out a loud gasp and she smirks. She then goes to your clit after she slides her tongue in and out of you a few times. As soon as her tongue connects with your clit, you arch your back off the bed, causing her to use more strength to pin you down. You start grinding on her mouth and she doesn’t have the heart to stop you from doing that. She knows you haven’t felt anything like this before and knows it can be a lot the first time. Not that she remembers her first time as it was about 30 years ago, but considering how it feels everytime she has sex, she can imagine how it must feel the first time.

You start to feel a build up in your stomach and you don’t know why. “Mel, why do I have a strangle feeling in my stomach?” You ask and she smiles. She pulls her tongue away but replaces it with her finger and continues rubbing your clit.

“Remember me explaining the orgasm build up?” She says and you nod. “Well that’s the build up. When it’s at its capacity you’ll let go and cum.” She tells you with a breathy voice. She wants to make sure she doesn’t overstimulate you without skin contact so she goes on top of you and looks at you while slowing down the movement on your clit. “I’m gonna stick my finger in you, it’s going to hurt a bit but that’s because your body isn’t used to it. I’ll go slowly but if it hurts too much or if you want me to pause but don’t want me to pull out then let me know ok?” She tells you and you nod. She then gets you to lay further up on the bed with your head on a pillow and she leans down on top of you. “Alright, ready?” She asks and you nod.

She then lines her finger up with your entrance and kisses you. She slowly slides the tip of her finger in and you gasp in the kiss. She then trails down to your neck so you can focus on her kisses on your body rather than the pain. She slides in more and sucks on your neck, you whimper a little bit but you don’t say anything so she keeps going. She slides it in all the way and she looks up at you while still sucking your neck.

“Do you feel pain mia angelo?” She asks when she pulls back and you nod. “Ok let me know when it goes away.” She kisses your neck and nipples for a few seconds and then you call her name.

“Mel, it went away.” You tell her and she nods. She then slowly pulls out then she slides back in again slowly. You gasp at the pleasure and you push her body closer to yours. She smiles at that and then goes a bit faster. You buck your hips to her body but can’t go very far as her body is pushed on yours, by you.

You end bending a knee slightly and accidentally put it between her legs, right up against her core, and the seam of her leggings touches her clit. She ends up doing a hard thrust by accident along with a “fuck.” From the pleasure and then asks you if you’re ok from the thrust.

“Can you do it again actually?” You ask her and your voice is very breathy at this point. She does a hard thrust again and you moan out at the pleasure. She then speeds up and does hard thrusts and your leg stays where it is. She grinds your leg a bit unconsciously and you notice and you smirk.

“Not so innocent now mia angelo.” She teases you when she notices your smirk to what you’re doing to her. She then pulls out of you completely and she quickly takes her leggings and underwear off. You go to whine at the loss of her finger when you see her strip in front of you then stare open mouthed at the sight of her pussy. She then goes back on your leg and sticks her finger back in. You moan out at the feeling of her finger, and then you feel her wetness spreading on your leg and you feel good knowing the effect you have on her.

“You feel very wet.” You tell her between moans and gasps.

“Yes mia angelo, that’s how much you turn me on.” She tells you and you smile. She puts her thumb on your clit when she feels her build up starting and knows it won’t take long. You say a little “aa” from her rubbing your clit and then she adds another finger in you slowly and you wrap your arms around her. You unknowingly press her down more on your leg and she moans out. The build up starts to get stronger and stronger in you and your legs start shaking and you’re breathing faster. “Just let your body do its thing and leg go when you need to.” She tells you when she feels your legs shaking. She’s close as well but wants you to come first.

A few seconds later you come with a high pitched gasp and she comes at the sight of you coming. She then stops and slowly and carefully, removes her thumb from your clit and pulls her fingers out. She then rolls over and lays down beside you, breathing fast. She then holds you in her arms while you shake as your body is trying to slow down your heart rate.

When your breathing slows down, you notice you put your hand on her boob unconsciously, then you squeeze it and rub your finger on the nipple. She lets out a whine and bucks her hip at that. You do the same to the other one and get the same reaction. She looks at you and sees you genuinely curious and interested in her boobs. You then go and lick one of her nipples and she lets out a gasp, you repeat the action and she moans softly. You then put it in your mouth and start sucking and licking. She bucks her hips and gasps. You pull back after a bit and you go to the other one.

“Mia angelo, what are you doing?” She asks before you get to the other one. “If you keep going you’re gonna make me want more.” She tells you and you put the other nipple in your mouth. You do the same thing and she moans and bucks her hips. “Angelo, please. I don’t think you realise how much you affect me.” She pleads and you look at her.

“Oh I do know actually.” You tell her and she looks at you going down her body and she whines. “You see, I felt you on my leg and how wet I make you.” You tell her and rub up and down her legs and feel how soft they are and you hum. “I also realised how much you teased me last week.” You say and kiss her thighs. You get close to where she wants you before pulling away and kissing her thighs again.

“Mia angelo. Stop teasing me.” She says and you look at her.

“Do you know how much I thought of you last weekend? Thoughts of you pushed up against me, and how wet that made me.” You tell her and she groans. You then slide up her body and come face to face with her. “I think it’s only fair that I do that to you.” You tell her and she whines. Of course, she thinks, they weren’t wrong when they say to watch out for the shy and innocent ones.

You then kiss her neck and she brings her hand down to touch herself. You notice it and don’t stop her. You kiss and suck on the other side of her neck and she slides a finger in herself.

“Are you making yourself feel good?” You question and she nods. You then grab her wrist of the hand that’s currently fingering herself and you make her pull her fingers out of herself. You then put her fingers in your mouth and you moan at the taste.

“Dio mio.” She gasps out as your tongue runs all over her two fingers. She definitely corrupted you, that’s for sure. You decide to finally give in and you move back down and put your mouth on her entrance. She bucks her hips as you connect your mouth to where she needs it. You then slip your tongue in her entrance and she squeaks out a moan. She starts grinding on your tongue and you moan. The sound vibrates on her and she gasps. “Dio mio, mia angelo. Your tongue feels so good.” She says and you smile. You then move to her clit and you slide a finger in her entrance. You move your tongue and hopefully you’re making her feel as good as she made you. She lets go of the sheets she was grabbing and grabs your hair instead. You add another finger in her and she screams out. You slide your fingers in and out of her and you love the way she feels inside, her wetness and warmth wrapped around your fingers and keeping you inside. You then feel her clench around your fingers and her legs start shaking. She then screams out as she comes but you don’t stop, too distracted by how she feels around your fingers and her taste. She continues grinding on your fingers and tongue as her build up is already starting again. She comes again not too long later and she then pulls you away. You pull out of her and climb up to lay beside her.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask and she shakes her head.

“No no, that felt incredible.” She says, trying to catch her breath. You beam at her words and she smiles at you. “Wow, I can’t remember the last time I came 3 times during sex.” She says and you blush. She wraps her arm around you. “Come here mia angelo.” She says and you snuggle into her. The two of you spend most of the weekend in her bed.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room a little weirdly but no one mentions it. Well not until Ava comes in and sees a hickey that you couldn’t cover due to how dark it was.

“Damn girl, did you get laid on the weekend?” She asks impressed and everyone except Melissa looks at you shocked. Melissa just continues on her phone.

“Maybe, what’s it to you?” You challenge back and Melissa snorts. You then go and sit down with Melissa and Barb as Melissa told you that you could this morning. Barb looks over to Melissa and sees Melissa wink and smile at you. Barb then sees a hickey on Melissa and she shakes her head at the two of you.

Ava sees Melissa’s wink and smile as well and then sees her hickey. “Melissa, I didn’t know you were into the innocent ones.” She tells her and everyone looks confused.

“And?” Is all Melissa says and everyone grins. Melissa then pulls your chair right beside her and wraps an arm around your waist and you lean into her.

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yumeboshi · 2 days

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𝜗𝜚。．． ❛ #BODY WORTH A THOUSAND BULLETS?

𐙚 synopsis。．As the boss of his organization, Gojo needs to kill you because you’re Geto’s daughter, even if you’re a gullible college student who has no idea how her father earns money. And he will kill you, as he did with countless other innocent people．．．right?

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。nsfw . MINORS DNI, dacryphillia, dub/ncn, gojo is just mean, choking kink, corruption kink, age gap (reader in early 20s, gojo at least in his late 20s or early 30s), gun play, teasing, spanking, virgin!reader, nicknames ‘princess, darling, baby,’ degrading w praise, dark humor bc gojo is just evil like that, mentions of violence, dead dove do not eat

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。3am daydreaming about mafia boss gojo and how he’d make megumi do all the work for him

YOU HAVE ALWAYS FOUND LIFE EASY. When you came back home after your uni lectures, you’d be welcomed by a luxurious feast already freshly made at your table, accompanied by butlers ready to tail you to make sure you feel comfortable. You never had to worry about your tuition bills, or losing your favorite necklace, because the next day, it would just be there, clean and new.

And the source of all your luxury was your father. His name was Geto Suguru, and that was the only thing you knew about him. He never came home, and even if he did, it would be way past night hours. It was like that since you were a little child. You always had caretakers looking after you instead, a feeble attempt by your father to fill in the position of a mother.

You couldn’t hate him either. You knew his efforts to make you feel happy. But you couldn’t have a regular father-daughter relationship like your friends did. You wished for it badly. You wanted it more than any other luxury. No amount of Dior bags or Versace could fill that up.

And today, you are looking at the mirror with piles of dresses behind you. Today, you are going on a night-out with your friends. It was a uni party hosted by your best friend. You could not just miss it out because your father insisted you to. No, you will not miss it out.

After long hours of phone calling (and your father constantly hanging the phone up because he was busy), you were finally able to convince the stubborn Geto to allow your girls night.

Don’t drink too much alcohol, sweetheart, he’d said during the call. And make sure you get home by ten.

That’s unbelievable, you’d said. It was a night party. You’d barely be there for an hour if ten was the curfew. But Geto was not having it at all, so you decided this was the best you could do to negotiate.

And after your disgruntled agreement, he’d summarized his rules for your first ever party- one— don’t drink alcohol too much, two— get home by 10p.m, and three— do not hang out with anyone who flirts with you.

A ridiculous set of rules, because who would actually flirt with you, you thought. You were certainly much more naive than your friends, so you’d never get any inside jokes. You were about as fun as a rock.

This was all thanks to Geto limiting your social interaction. You could barely keep up a conversation with your friends, and you were about as free as a caged dove.

But today, your father’s butlers did not tail you. Perhaps he wanted to make sure you tasted an ounce of freedom. Although you appreciated his sentiment, you were quickly overwhelmed by the foreign atmosphere you were experiencing alone. Waves of color startle you, as you were used to the monochromatic interiors of Geto’s mansion. You awkwardly sit at the nearest bus stop. In reality, you had no clue how to get to the party.

It did not help that it was quitting hour, and everyone seemed busy doing their own thing. You clutch your white handbag and pretend you are relaxed and fine, when you are not— you did not have a phone with web search functions because your father did not allow it yet again, and you had no clue where you were. You almost regret telling Geto you were going to the party by yourself.

Maybe this is a sign I shouldn’t go to the party, you think feebly. Would you contribute to it at all? You think not. Even though you did not have enough social communication, you could still read the faces of your friends when you bored them. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes sting.

You close your eyes for some liberation from the dizzy hurricane of emotion. You slowly open them and you almost jump when you are not met by the vacant gray sight of the road, but a pair of infinitely blue eyes.

You immediately back up and nearly trip over the bench you were sitting on. You gasp in pain when you feel the jagged wood rip your stockings as well as a part of your thigh, probably.

“Ouch, watch where you fall over, pretty. I felt that sting.”

Hearing an unfamiliar voice, you peel open your eyes and blink away the blobs of unreleased tears trapped inside. They reveal a man with ghostly white locks, teal eyes like ocean diamonds, and porcelain skin. His lips quirk up when your doe eyes meet his, as if he had achieved something spectacular.

But although his face is youthful and flawless, his attire strikes you as odd. He has on a slick suit that seems freshly ironed, the thick smell of cologne seems to linger every time he brushed off his hair locks. He seems almost old, at least as old as your father. But, that cannot be possible. He looks too young, in his prime.

“You like my suit? Just bought it a week ago. Had to clean it up because some idiot ruined it.” He continues, paying no mind that you were gawking at him— spontaneously sliding next to you on the bench. Your mouth is turning dry as you clutch the broken wood. He looks too pretty, too perfect for you, and this beautiful stranger is suddenly talking to you. You do not know how to respond. All thoughts of running late to the party seem to be forgotten.

“You know how it feels to have… let’s say, ketchup, sprayed all over a pretty white dress? That’s exactly how it was like, darl’. It’s hard maintaining something like this— oh, did I scare you?” He stops talking animatedly and stares into your face, noticing you were staring at him with your facial features frozen. But his smile gives it away that he knows the truth behind your reaction.

“No, um.” You falter, trying to compose yourself. You try to look confident, not wanting to let this guy think you were a pushover, because he certainly was thinking so. “Who are you?” You demand.

You see his lips quiver, biting back a laugh. You feel infuriated that he just finds you amusing. “And why do I have to tell you my name?” He asks, smirking at your confused reaction.

You haven’t had much conversations but you know this is not how one is supposed to unfold. “Well….” you try to find an answer, but you realize there is no concrete reason. You could just ignore weird strangers like himself. Why were you trying to maintain talk with him, you think angrily. You glance down at your watch and realize you are running late.

“I need a ride,” you blurt out of hastiness. Your stupid phone didn’t have internet, so you could not contact your friends- they’d be worried sick. And now it seemed like the easiest way to get there was to ask this handsome weirdo for a ride, if he knew how to drive a car, you think.

“Oooh, really?” He drawls, flicking his iridescent gaze to the bus stop you two are sitting in. “You could just take the bus, you know. Is there a particular reason you’re asking me to drive you somewhere?” His tone has a mocking undertone as if he knows exactly why you are asking him. “Poor princess can’t ride the bus alone?” He coos with a pout.

“Yes,” you admit, clutching your handbag hard to hide your embarrassment.

To your surprise, he doesn’t drag the matter and shrugs nonchalantly, his pristine face falters a little to slip out a grin, but it is not mocking— rather, it is a smile of adoration that makes your heart flutter. “Sure. Be a good girl for me and stay here while I get my car, yeah?”

You are discomfited by how nice he is being, but you nod obediently— how could you deny such an angel like himself, you swoon, and then you smack yourself inwardly. He chuckles again, the same adoration is too much for your fragile heart to bear. You feel your cheeks heat up, and a tiny part of your heart wishes you can hang out with him a little longer rather than going to the party.

His cologne is still present in the air, and you take a nice whiff after double checking that he was gone— you would rather die than to let the stunning man know you were inhaling his scent like a pervert. It is a woody, masculine smell, combined with something that smells oddly like iron. But the metallic smell blends in with the musky notes so well that you think it is intentional.

You could smell something else too— and this time you feel it is not intentional at all. It is a chemically sweet smell that strikes your nostrils and crashes right into your brain.

The next thing you feel is a jarring pain against your head, the sound of wood cracking around you, and at last, your eyelids fall shut.

YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO THE PARTY TONIGHT.

You slowly peel open an eyelid cautiously, and the first thing that occurs to you is that you are unable to move. You try moving your arms, and then quickly realize they are bound behind your back with your wrists, and they hurt. They must have been tied up for quite a while.

You try ignoring the panic that starts to drum into your ears as you assess your situation. You see a pretty view of the city, and your faint reflection on the glass. And then it dawns on you that you are definitely not in your friend’s house, or your home.

I’m fine, you think, but your heart is screaming otherwise. You try not to start screaming for help, just in case this was a prank, or a trap. Your breathing gets unsteady. You knew it was not a prank, and you were kidnapped, and you could not move an inch.

What now? You think. Maybe you will die here tonight. By whom, you wonder. You try to recall whatever happened the past few hours, but your head feels like it’s underwater. You recall crying at the bus stop. You maybe recall someone offering you a ride. But that is all you remember.

You try to roll your body sideways, but the cold iron against your thin dress causes too much friction. You gasp in pain when you feel something unpleasant scratch you during your attempt.

”Enjoying the view, angel?”

You yelp, trying to crane your neck to the side to see who just talked, but a veiny hand seizes your throat, successfully knocking out anything you tried to utter. You remain silent, shivering like a lamb ready to be slaughtered. The familiar scent of cologne seeps into your system like unpleasant goo, and now you remember.

“You…!” You snarl, but your breath hitches when he gives your neck a little warning squeeze.

“Do you remember now? Aww, how flattering.” He purrs, which makes your stomach twist. “Yes, darl’. I’m afraid you won’t make it to the party… or to your daddy.” He chuckles at that, and your eyes widen.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You ask, your voice is labored and it wavers at the lump in your throat. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would a pretty dumb girl like yourself cause trouble? Of course not.” His hand squeezes a little tighter, making you let out a gasp. “That’s adorable, thinking you did some shit. Think a little more, yeah?”

You do try to think, but it is hard to do so when you cannot get enough oxygen. You list all the things that could’ve ended you up here. Maybe your friends. Or maybe the party upsetted him. Or maybe you were not respectful at all. Or maybe—

“Stupid girl.” His other hand strikes your ass hard, making you squeal in pain. “It’s obviously about your father.” Your eyes widen as he continues— “Tell me, pretty, don’t you ever think about where your daddy gets all those pretty dresses for you?” When you hesitate, he sighs out of disappointment. “—There’s nothing in that pretty little head of yours. I bet you’d scream and cry and call me a liar when I tell you that Geto Suguru is a mafia boss.”

You felt like throwing up and crying, you did. But you try your best not to look shocked, out of fear of what he’d say. He starts to laugh, and laugh, and although it was a sound so sweet, it sounded like a song of death. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. Priceless, really. Shocked that your daddy isn’t a successful millionaire who magically has legitimate money to provide for you? No, angel— he kills fucking loads of people while you worry about what to wear. And I do as well.”

The last sentence is a lilt, a taunt. You bite back a sob, trying to hear the rest of the story as he continues.

“But we’re not on the same side of the coin, you know? Then, now, it’s quiz time!” You could hear his sinister smile from behind. “Now why, oh why, would I kidnap such a helpless little dumb girl?”

You hesitate but reply, not wanting him to hurt you, or worse, kill you. “B-because I’m a useful bargaining chip.”

“Oooh! Maybe you aren’t that stupid! Yes, that’s absolutely correct.” He cheerfully claps. “Geto is paranoid after you didn’t come back to your house, you know? He’s willing to do anything for you, princess.” His hand on your throat loosens, and you gasp for air. One of his slender fingers prod up your chin, and taps your lips teasingly. “And I mean everything.” His voice is deeper now, slow and dangerous. Your mouth starts to dry.

”Obviously, killing you would be incredibly beneficial. Geto won’t be able to think straight. He’d be too heartbroken to do shit.” His finger strays to your neck, sliding his nail against your throat as if to cut it, and you hold your breath in dread. He bursts into giggles seeing you in terror.

“But oh, why would I just finish off such a useful pretty thing? You have plenty of other uses, angel…” he trails off and without warning, flips you over easily.

You are greeted with familiar blue eyes, painfully beautiful as usual, ivory locks dangling downwards. You wince at the light on the ceiling, a luxurious chandelier. He has on the same suit, you notice, and then realize it was a mafia attire all along. His hand is still at your throat, and his other hand has released your ass, but instead held a dangerously silvery gun aimed right at your chest.

“Please don’t kill me,” you blurt out.

“Hmm, I established that I won’t. Scared already?” He drawls, his eyes flickering over your body to inspect you. You feel too vulnerable, especially since your dress is too thin for your sake; but with your hands tied back, you are powerless.

“Fear suits you, princess.” His eyes have that adoring look again, as he squeezes your neck, your eyes roll up, feeling dizzy without air. “Fuck,” he groans, looking at your beautiful expression. Yes, fear really does suit you, he thinks. He could feel his erection tighten in his pants. He wants you, he wants to drill his cock I right fucking now, oh, he just wants to see that dizzy dumb look on you. You look so pretty, for what?

“Why are you so fucking beautiful, princess?” He tightens his grip around your neck, and tears form in the corner of your lovely eyes. “Shit,” he whimpers, pushing in his gun harshly between your tits and you whine at the cold iron intruding your skin. Your heart is thumping fast enough to make the gun bob up and down, but you feel your thighs start to clench for unknown reasons. His eyes are entrancing enough for you to think that it is not so bad to let this man have your way with you.

“Oh, oh my.” His voice drops, and he grins when you arch your back so your tits jiggle between the pistol. “You’re a dirty little freak, angel. You’re enjoying this.” He shoves the gun into your mouth without warning and you choke, thin stripes of saliva seep down to your chin. “Your poor daddy doesn’t know his girl’s a slut.” He prods the gun in deeper, making you gape your mouth, and he chuckles at your expression. “Does it hurt?” When you meekly nod, he smirks and pushes it even deeper to make you gag. “Of course it does, it’s meant to hurt.”

Maybe it was his harsh treatment that made your eyes water- or the pain. You feel your eyes start to sting, and a tear escapes your eye. You wonder what Geto would say, or if you could ever come back home alive.

“Hey, focus on me, will you, pretty?” A single prod of the gun forces your attention back on him, and when he sees your red eyes, he laughs, and a subtle moan is mixed in it. “If you’re trying to make me pity you, it’s not working,” he snickers. “In fact, it’s doing the absolute opposite, angel.” His other hand takes a harsh hold of your hair and shoves your head towards the gun. You scream at the sharp sting that likely made something bleed inside your mouth, but he pays no notice.

“Ever sucked dick before?” He asks you, nudging the cold metal up, and when you shake your head quickly, hoping he’d stop- he snickers. “It shows,” he teases you, but his eyes are not amused at all- instead, there is a primal flare inside of them, and he slowly drags the body out of your mouth and down to your tits again. You shiver a little at the sticky wetness- but you are relieved as you gasp in short breaths.

“Bet nobody ever got the chance to touch you like this.” He tosses the gun carelessly next to you, and you jolt a little at the loud noise. With a chuckle, his hands find your panties. He hooks one of his fingers under them and plays with the thin fabric, and then looks right at you with his ethereal eyes, waiting for your reply.

“No,” you whisper, avoiding his intense gaze. Every corner of your skin feels raw and cold, except for your cheeks and your pussy- as he was tracing a teasing line on it. You didn’t like how you were feeling. Your heart was beating fast- out of fear or out of lust, you do not know. Your stomach churns out of guilt. Geto must be worried sick—

A sharp spank against your now-bare clit makes you cry out and buck your thighs, cutting off your thoughts. You look up shakily to see him stare at you condescendingly.

“That’s no way to behave, princess.” He shakes his head in mocking condescension, seizing your head with his hands when you try to look away again. “Weren’t you begging me to fuck your tits with a gun earlier?” When you shake your head, trying to deny it, he laughs and pushes in a digit into your pussy without warning, making you whimper. “You lie so badly, baby, it’s cute.” Your thighs start to shake when he adds in another, and a foreign coldness enters in as well. You glance down as far as you can with him holding your head in place. His fingers quickly disappear in and out, covered with your cum.

“Barely even started, and she’s already so fucking wet.” He leans back to let his snowy locks tremble a little, letting out an unapologetic groan. You hate that it has an effect on you— you feel something right inside of you burn and unveil.

But just as the strands of your pleasure unwind, he abruptly pulls his digits out, smirking at your flushed and hazy expression as he licks the white substance clean from his fingers.

You are confused, and your pussy is angry for release. You stare at him with pleading eyes silently, but he tilts his head as if he is clueless.

“Is there something you need, sweet?” He asks innocently.

You nod, staring back at him, hoping he will get that you need his fingers pumping into you right now. But his eyes darken and he chuckles.

“No wonder you were so easy to drug and kidnap. Did your daddy give you everything you wanted without asking? Use your words, dumb girl.” He flicks your forehead with his fingers and you wince at the pain that rings through your skull as if he had just punched you.

“I-I need to cum,” you whisper. Your eyes and nose burn with incoming tears.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, angel.” He tuts at you, and you feel your clit throbbing in frustration.

“Please,” you finally crack, tears are painting your face but you ignore them as you sniffle. “Please let me cum,” you beg.

“Are you doing that on purpose? Aw, what a dumb and pretty whore you are.” You look up at him, the mean words go through one ear and exit the other. All you wish for is a sweet release- but he does not give you his fingers. Instead, they fly to his belt, unbuckling it with a smooth click. The expensive black leather falls on your thigh.

And he suddenly picks up the discarded gun next to you, and he loads it. Your heart that was beating with desire soon warped into terror. That was it, this devastatingly handsome maniac was going to kill you.

“Geto has no problem looking at guns. Why are you so afraid of them, angel?” He teases, and nudges the icy metal inside your leaking clit. Angry at the foreign intrusion, it immediately clamps over it. With one hand, he bucks the pistol in and out. It is shoved in with such force that you can feel the tip hit your womb. You whine out, crying that he is being too harsh. He ignores you.

“mmm, f-fuck.” Your lips are tapped open by his angry dick, red and huge. It was huge. You open your mouth a little, and he snorts— “—angel, open up wider, I can’t fit my cock into your cute little mouth.” The gun prods your sensitive g-spot and you let out a loud moan. “A-ah!” When your mouth opens up wide, he takes the opportunity to push in his gigantic erection. You tentatively suck at it, lolling your tongue around his cock like it’s a lollipop.

“ah— fuck!” He throws his head back to moan shamelessly, grunting out strained words. “mmm— jus’ like that angel, now you’re sucking properly, s-shit, who taught you how to suck dick?” He pushes in the gun harder in sync with his erection, and you squeal— “-y-you, daddy, you t-taught me how,” you mewl between sucks- and he grunts breathlessly. “aah, attagirl. Only I get to teach this pretty slut how to suck off.” He thrusts into your mouth, and your mouth gapes. “—this pretty mouth,” he adds in a finger with the loaded gun, scissoring them in and out rapidly until your thighs tremble so much they hurt- “—belongs to me.”

“P-please,” you beg again- tears trickle out of your eyes again this time because of the constant stimulation- they trickle down the same path over your cheeks. “please, ah!— ‘m g-gonna cum,” you plead desperately.

“f-fuuck, cum, angel,” he groans against your ear as he thrusts in violently- “mouth so fucking good, wanna fill it up with my cum—“ with a loud moan, your thighs shiver and a thick wetness is released. Your mind goes blank and you gasp, dizzy, the world spins around you and everything tastes too sweet. You blink rapidly to look properly, and feel a sticky substance run down your throat and over your face, trickling down your chin, painting your lashes. It tastes sweet, and you smile dumbly at him, whose dick hovers above you, dripping with thick ropes of cum.

“You going home tonight, princess?” He asks with a smirk. Your eyes are glazed and your head rings with the intensity and the throbbing of your pussy that still clenches around his fingers. “Want me to set you free so you can go to your daddy?” He teases, but he knew he was not letting you go now- oh, not when he found out that your mouth was too good to be abandoned.

“‘wanna stay here longer,” you whine- the words come out slurred as you lull to the side a little and smile widely. “don’t wanna go home,” you mewl, staring up at him with a plea. “—wanna, wanna f-fuck all night,” you continue with a dizzy grin, eyes drooping.

”When did you become so greedy, angel?” He chuckles at your dumbed-out expression, but his eyes glitter with victory. Yes, this was better than making Geto feel pain. You were an angel, yes, straight from heaven, to save him from his boring days of bloodshed.

“Oh, I’m introducing myself late.” He remembers he hasn’t even told you his name, and he grins when you don’t seem to hear, but to stare at his cock that lowers down to tease your entrance this time. You are adorable, dumb, naive, an innocent little thing who is too easy to convince.

“I’m Gojo Satoru. But jus’ call me daddy, m’kay?” He puts both hands around your waist and leans on your shoulder with a contented sigh. “That’s alll you need to know about me right now, angel.”

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