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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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lost in the fire - kendall roy x f!reader

| masterlist | succession sideblog: @kendollroyco | my kendall playlist

chapter summary: your boyfriend works too much. a oneshot, but if we're being real, i was thinking about kendall and the reader from thinking of a place, because i miss them. pairing: kendall roy x f!reader words: 4.6k warnings: SMUT (18+ only). soft dom Kendall. Somewhat unhealthy/jealous/co-dependent relationship but this is a Succession fic so like…what do we expect? Alcohol consumption - I don't know what Kendall's definition of sobriety is but he drinks a cocktail in this. a/n: i'll get back to tlou but i've had this partially written for like a year at this point. It started out as more of a manic Ken on a power trip type of fic but then it got really soft and fluffy because I am feeling touch-deprived lately so I’m sorry if I didn’t deliver enough evil ken for ya’ll. :/ OOPS!

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

"We're like the Lewis and Clark of fucking." - Kendall Roy

Teetering down the hallway, you attempt to quell the outrageously loud click, click, click of your stilettos against the marble floor by shifting most of your weight into the ball of your feet and shuffling forward. It only makes it harder for you to balance while you attempt to put on the flashy gold hoop earrings your friend had insisted you’d wear. Of course, being quiet didn’t really matter, because you were the only person inhabiting the Hudson Yards penthouse.

As usual, you are running late. Famously, you always underestimate how long it will take to get ready for social events – your friends could attest to that. It is a bad habit that, despite years of trying to correct, you can never quite shake.

Beelining for the double doors of the multi-million dollar home, you are interrupted by your name being called out in a sing-songy voice. There is a blur of movement out of the corner of your eye, and you turn towards the familiar sound to find your boyfriend rounding the corner, a drink in hand.

The sight of him at home is rare these days, that for a second, you aren’t even sure if it’s really him. Maybe the place is being haunted by an eerily similar lookalike, or it could be some new ridiculous billionaire technology that he’d invested in– holographic messaging, or something similarly dystopian that you’d roll your eyes at when he tries to explain it to you. It’s fuckin’ next level, I’m telling you. I’m a fucking tech pioneer. You can practically hear him trying to sell you on it despite your distaste.

“Ken?” you cling to the clutch under your arm, unable to stop the shit-eating grin that works its way onto your face. “Hey. When did you get home?”

“Hey yourself,” he answers, poorly hiding a bemused smirk behind Baccarat crystal. “I just got in.”

That much was clear, even though his briefcase and coat had already been cleared away from the table in the entranceway, and his suit jacket draped over the back of a barstool. “Are you going out?” He lowers the tumbler and leans against the counter, but still keeps it close, one finger sliding along the rim.

“Yeah,” you approach Kendall cautiously. “...did you get my text? I thought I’d get ready here, we’re going to that place around the corner.”

He’d given you a key to his flat, even though the relationship was still pretty new – but decidedly not that new, given your history. Things were still moving quickly though, if you compare him to your past flings.

Kendall’s eyes close briefly in recognition, his brows pulling together as though he is scolding himself. “Oh, uh-huh, yeah….right.” It’s then, and in closing the space between you, that his haggard appearance becomes clear. You’re one of few who would probably even notice it. To the untrained eye his white dress shirt is impeccable, crisp and stark as usual – save for the lack of cufflinks, which you notice he’s discarded on the counter alongside his drink. His tie is still fastened tightly around his neck in a perfect half-Windsor. But salt and pepper stubble is sprinkled across his jawline, faint red hazy in the whites of his amber eyes.

Work has consumed him in the last few weeks. It’s been nonstop. And he is still home earlier than you have expected, even though the sun had gone down long ago.

Kendall’s hand wraps around your waist and you lean against him, accepting his affectionate peck on the cheek. “Hey, honey.” The cedar notes of his cologne, the acidity of the vodka on his breath, and the weight of his arm around you makes your stomach flip, even as he draws back, releasing you so he can sit on a barstool. It’s probably for the better, as the impulse to throw yourself into his arms and abandon your plans will become impossible to resist if you don’t leave soon.

It would be a lie to say his career hasn’t put a strain on things lately. Business trips, dinner meetings, weekend conventions all seem determined to keep him away from you. For the past few weeks, you’ve been deprived of him, forced to accept only minutes of his time – mostly sweet nothings and apologies whispered as falls into bed beside you, then presses of his lips on your cheek, still half-asleep in the early hours of the morning as he leaves the next day. You have been forced to savor those moments, even though they are hardly substantial. But you know yourself, you aren’t better off with someone else. He has always been what you wanted.

Still, lately you have been thinking about all his failed past relationships. There is certainly a…pattern. You’ve seen enough, and sometimes it feels like you are purposely ignoring the signs – Watch Your Step!, before falling into a pit of daggers.

He needed a break or he’d burn out, but you’ve learned when to bite your tongue and save those suggestions for when you are sure they won’t erupt. And you both aren’t always good at keeping arguments good-natured.

Kendall shifts in his chair so he can look you up and down – this time up close. “Is this what you’re wearing out?”

“Uhhhh, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, feeling your face heat up.

“Turn around,” his resting facial expression is already kind of indignant, but you can tell right now that he’s definitely frowning.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says. “I want to see.”

You shrug, but obey, unable to hide the way your lips quirk when you are back facing him again, hands on your hips. All you have to do is read the look on Kendall’s face to know that he doesn’t approve. And even though there is no way in hell you are going to change, the slight blaze in his narrowed eyes makes you think this is about to become a controversy.

“Do you have a problem?” you ask, feigning innocence, glancing down at the getup. The red dress barely covers your ass – is far more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, accompanied by stiletto heels that lace up your calves. Sure, it’s a lot, but you look good, and you’re going out.

“You’ll definitely be getting a lot of attention,” he conveniently doesn’t answer your question.

If you weren’t wearing lipstick, you would’ve bit your lower lip to keep your composure. Instead, you tilt your head and give him a coy smile. “You should come with me.”

Kendall glances down at the countertop and shakes his head, the comment causing him to drop the subject of your attire entirely. “I can’t. I’ve got a meeting first thing.” To be fair, he avoids the club scene most of the time, so it’s not a well-thought-out offer. Too much temptation. “But you look good,” he concedes.

“A work meeting on a Saturday?” you ask, ignoring the compliment. “Fuck,” you reach to take a sip from his tumbler. The vodka he keeps here is always chilled to perfection, so smooth it tastes like it’s melting off a glacier. “It’s that bad?”

He takes the beverage from your hand when you return it, shrugging before throwing the rest back, then standing to pour another. “Just the usual, la-dee-fuckin-dah….corporate bullshit.”

You frown and stare at your shoes, flexing your foot and inspecting its soles.

“Those heels don’t look very comfortable,” he remarks as he passes you.

“They aren’t.”

“Well then I’ll guess I’ll have to take you shopping to replace them.”

You feel yourself flush. “Let me know when you can fit me in your schedule.”

“Uh-huh,” Kendall ignores your jab, changes the subject. “How’s your job?”

“Same as yours. La-dee-fuckin’-dah corporate bullshit,” you repeat his words from earlier, lowering your voice slightly to mimic his cadence of speaking.

The sound of his warm chuckle makes your stomach flip again. “You want me to, uh, pour you one?”

“No, I should probably get going.” You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you are running behind, and you hear the clink of ice against crystal.

Then, his voice, deep and husky, directly against your ear. “Who’re you texting?”

You jolt in surprise at his sudden proximity. “Fuck! Sorry,” you clear your throat. “Uh….the group chat.”

Kendall’s arm reaches past you to place his drink on the counter, and you feel his fingertips brush the hair away from the nape of your neck. Then, his lips follow, pressing there gently, his thumb trailing down your arm and then back up again. You shiver at the contact, and it dawns on you how touch-deprived you are.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against sensitive skin. His hands land on your shoulders and begin to knead at the taut muscles there. You try to keep yourself tense, even as you feel your phone slipping out of your hands, the drafted text all-but forgotten.

But instinctually, you shift backwards to feel the weight of his chest pressed against you.“You’re all wound up,” Almost chastising. Every part of your body below your bellybutton clenches. It’s those hands, his hands. Hands that used to wrap around your throat, thread into your hair, hold your wrists in place. Pin you down, spread you open…. While you think about them, you let him work at the tension that he is partially responsible for, nodding and letting out a long exhale.

“Just a little.”

“When are you gonna quit that job?” he asks you.

You first, you want to say, but let the retort die before it could leave your mouth. “Hmmmmm,” you pretend to mull it over, but you’re only half-aware of things he’s saying to you. “I don’t know.”

“What kind of uh, feminist would I be if I let a girl as hot as fucking you have to worry about a job?”

You can’t help but snort, turning your head so his forehead bumps against your own. “Is that how feminism works?”

“Uh-huh,” he chides, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Fucking whatever. I wish you’d just let me look after you.”

You are unable to find your voice to answer, because you remember through your needy haze that you are running late, and when he says things like that, it certainly doesn’t help you regain composure. It’s only after you straighten, trying to pull yourself out of the trance he’s worked you into, that you discover how close he has pinned you to the countertop.

“Ken-” you try to protest, but the way it comes out sounds more like you’re pleading.

“What is it?” Kendall asks, returning his lips once more to your neck, beginning to work them tenderly up the column of your throat, which makes it impossible for you to finish the rest of the objection. “I’ve missed you so much,” he pulls you back against him by your waist.

“Me too,” you sigh. “But I-,” you’re cut off when he grinds against you, already half-hard, and your pelvis hits the granite lip of the countertop. It hurts, just for a second, but the pain is quickly replaced by warmth. Kendall pulls his hands away and you’re only held in place by his hips, the metal of his belt buckle cool against your sacrum. The dress you’re wearing is so thin it feels like there’s nothing separating him from your bare skin.

“You what?” he prompts when you remain silent. You know him well enough to hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face, and his nails rake up and down your arms.

It’s a little petty, but you are hesitant to give yourself over so easily to him. To abandon your evening, just because he’s finally decided to see you at a reasonable hour. Of course, if your friends knew you were late because you were with him, they wouldn’t care. Kendall had been a well-kept secret until it was impossible to deny his existence in your life. But they were all a little too supportive of the relationship, since it meant they suddenly had guaranteed access to any club VIP section - and you perpetually pick up the bill. Not to mention the first-class, luxury accommodations they get on girls trips.

There was more to it than just being late, though. You had always been willing to do anything for him, even before you were dating. He told you to jump, you asked how far? He gave you one pleading look from underneath those thick lashes – and you folded. And Kendall is very aware that he’s your weakness. So you constantly try to convince him otherwise, lest he get too comfortable. And really, after his neglectful behavior, did he really deserve you without any opposition?

“Kendall,” you manage to turn slightly. “I’m going to be late.” Wriggling some more in his grip, but it’s only enough to bring you face-to-face, looking up into his stormy eyes.

He studies you carefully, like he might let you leave if he senses enough conviction. “I don’t care.”

You might’ve laughed, if it weren’t for how stern he sounds. It almost scares you. Almost. Hoping to soften him, you fit your thumb into the dimpled fabric of his tie, and use it to drag him forward, offering a tender kiss on his cheek. Returning the embrace, his stubble scratches your face as he smiles against you. He reaches behind you for another sip of his drink and his unoccupied hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass through the silky fabric.

You are burning, fire licking up your arms, your neck, your face. It’s too much, to have him so close and not be able to have him. All the tension building with nowhere for it to go. When he pulls back, you lean forward.

It’s a little rough at first, because you are so desperate, tasting the vodka, drawing his bottom lip between your teeth. Kendall is the one who softens you, cradles your jaw to draw you closer, opens his mouth and deepens the kiss, so deliberate and practiced that you’re unable to speak when he pulls away.

“Tell me something,” full lips so close to yours that they brush your own when he speaks, your eyes fluttering shut. His touch coasts up your sides, up your arms, landing on your shoulders. “Who are you showing off for in this?” Kendall hooks his pointed finger around a spaghetti strap of your dress, and lets the elastic snap back against your skin. You savor the sting it leaves behind.

Admittedly, there’s a third reason why you’re being so withholding. He’s so spoiled, so used to getting what he wants, whenever he wants it. Not just from you. And when he doesn’t get it, he becomes petulant, fiery. You’ve learned that if you piss him off just enough, you don’t have to ask him to fuck you within an inch of your life. He just does.

So, you decide to poke the sleeping bear, shrugging and crossing your arms like it’s nothing, giving him a demure smile. “You wouldn’t know him.”

Kendall’s nostrils flare as his hand rises to grip your jaw – tightly. “Uh-huh.” Even if you’re only joking, the very idea of you dressing up at all – let alone like that – for anyone except himself, pisses him off. “Fuck you.”

“You’d like to, wouldn’t you?” you try to keep your voice even, but it sort of loses the steadiness you were hoping for when he hooks a finger behind your knee, dragging it up across the expensive, soft wool of his slacks to peg around his hip.

The bruising kiss that answers is clearly intended to erase the smug look on your face, and it works – your breath hitching, the hand on his tie tugging him closer. Kendall seems to speak without saying anything at all, grabbing your opposite thigh and lifting until you are perched on the edge of the countertop.

It’s getting real, but you still haven’t decided if you are actually going to stick around. The way he looks right now, however, swings the pendulum farther into the side of staying in – red lipstick left behind on his cheek, shirt wrinkled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. You wanted to make him look even more wrecked.

Kissing him again, his hands begin to roam, tugging the dress off your shoulders and freeing your tits. “Shit,” He dips his head to sloppily mouthing at the newly exposed skin. “Knew you weren’t wearing a fuckin’ bra.”

“Ken,” you squirm when he latches onto one of your nipples, pinching the other between two fingers. “I really need to get going.”

“Not yet,” he hums, the vibration of his voice against your skin makes the space between your legs ache. “If you’re going to go out in this fucking dress, I don’t want you to forget who you belong to.”

You squirm in his grip – not because you want to get away from him – but because you want to see if he’ll pin you in place, be even rougher. He does. He is. “Stop that. This isn’t a fucking negotiation.”

Well, okay.

He kneads into your thighs now, one of his hands dipping beneath the skirt of your dress that’s already so short he’s only an inch or so away from your already-soaked panties.

“Fuck,” You tilt your head back to look at the ceiling, like you might find some self-control there, some will to resist him, but it’s about as cold and uninspiring as the rest of the apartment. “Please.”

Kendall lets out a dark chuckle, pushing aside your thong and brushing his knuckles against your damp cunt. He loves to tease, and right now is no exception. His touch isn’t enough to satisfy, so you press yourself forward to seek it out yourself. You don’t dare meet his eyes, which you can feel are watching you intently, admiring how you keen and arch and whimper in frustration. Still, you aren’t quite ready to beg.

Thankfully, you don’t have to. Without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, groaning as he does, his thumb finding your clit.

“Yes, Kendall, that’s–” you don’t finish the thought because you aren’t entirely sure what you actually have to say. His digits curl, attentive, practiced – tuned in to exactly what you like, what you need. You grip at the fabric of his shirt that’s bunched around his elbows. Despite how intense meeting his gaze right now will be, you turn to look at him anyway, surprised by the affection and warmth you find in his eyes.

“You try so hard not to be,” he says while he continues to stare you down. “But you’re always so fucking good for me.”

Your stomach flips, partly in shame, partly because of how good it’s always felt to be seen by him. Throbbing around him, feeling your pleasure build, but he withdraws his fingers from you before it can crest. An embarrassing noise leaves you, squeezing your eyes shut.

The clink of his belt unbuckling immediately snaps you back to reality, and you hike your dress further up your hips, shimmying out of your thong. It’s pitiful, the way you don’t want to delay any longer the feeling of him inside you.

He strokes himself in his hand, lines his cock up, and pushes a piece of hair off your face.

“You want me?” he asks, and you bob your head enthusiastically. “Tell me, then.”

“I want you, Kendall. Please, I want you so bad.”

“Yeah you do,” he mutters, and wastes no time jerking forward to enter you.

Though you’d had him plenty of times you never could quite get used to the feeling – he’s big, of course, and it’s always electric, the blood in your veins buzzing, your hands tightening on his shoulders.

“Relax, honey,” Kendall says, feeling the way your body tenses at the intrusion, placing a hand on your sacrum, one between your shoulder blades to steady you.

He presses his hips forward until they are flush against your own, bottoming out inside you, pausing. It’s welcome at first, a chance to catch your breath, to let out a shuddery exhale - temporarily appeased by the way your cunt stretches to accommodate him, and he’s so close to you after so much time spent away. You’re embarrassed at how badly you’ve needed this, how reliant on him you’ve become, but he always feels so good.

Kendall stays still for long enough that you grow frustrated, and you use his tie to pull him closer, loosening the knot and rutting against him until he presses his thumb into the crease of your hip and thigh so hard you are forced to stop. Once you do, he starts to move, thrusts slow but deep, lips pressing hastily between panting breaths.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he laments.

Despite everything, you can’t help but talk back. “You don’t say?”

Kendall doesn’t like that at all, his hips snapping at a punishing pace, which seems more like a reward than anything else, his hand clasping your jaw roughly, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t speak to me like that,’ he warns.

An involuntary, low moan leaves you. It’s overwhelming – always is. You aren’t used to sex with someone you feel so connected to, or with a lover who is so attentive to your needs, who effortlessly strikes a perfect balance between rough, passionate, and tender.

You wrap your legs around his waist, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, anxious to run your hands through the smattering of hair on his chest, feel the warmth of his skin under your palms. Even if it’s not possible, you want to be closer to him. Needy. So needy. You’ve heard it from him before, and would probably hear it again. He is right, and in moments like this, you can never bring yourself to care. You like it.

He’s watching you so intently, and the rest of the city might as well be too. He basically lives in a fishbowl, you’re surrounded by windows that offer panoramic views of the glittering lights of the city. The only reason you have any privacy at all is because of just how high up you are, no one else can actually see you right now. Even if they did, what could possibly happen? Kendall loves to take advantage of this – he’s taken you up against the cold glass windows, has let you sink to your knees in front of him out on his balcony.

“What are you gonna tell your friends when they ask why you were so late tonight?” he asks. “Gonna tell them you were letting me spread you open on the fucking counter?”

“God,” you stutter out, always shocked by the things that come out of his mouth when takes you like this, voice deep and firm, enunciating each syllable like he’s giving a speech – frustratingly collected. It makes you ache that much more. “I missed you,” you whimper, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. As much as you want it fully off, not just hanging loose around his elbows, you don’t want him to release you from the bruising hold he’s got you in. This would have to do.

“Uh-huh,” Kendall answers by fucking into you even harder, his pelvic bone kissing your clit with every thrust, and your nails etching crescents into his biceps. “I know. I’m sorry.”

His head falls to your shoulder in a brief moment of humility, lips working on your neck, and you feel your release fast approaching. In moments like these, you don’t doubt how he really feels. He gives it all away, tries his best to make it up to you, and it’s so easy to forgive him. Kendall’s fist wraps around one of the stiletto heels of your shoes, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder and drive his cock deeper into you. He’s perfect, feels perfect, there’s no one else who makes you feel the way he does. When his thumb begins to rub delicate circles around your clit, you’re gone.

Your body tenses up for so long, you actually think you might’ve psyched yourself out. And then everything releases. Kendall coaxes you through your orgasm, deep voice muttering things that are either unintelligible or that you wouldn’t dare to repeat out loud, and you cling to him while your cunt pulses in waves. It lasts for a long time, or at least it feels like it does, he slows just to fuck you through it, so you can both savor how good it feels. That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl. When he tries to kiss you, you oblige, but it’s open-mouthed and sloppy since you’re struggling to breathe and can’t stop whispering his name.

“Ken, you’re so good, it’s so good–”

You know he likes to be praised just as much as you do. He cuts you off with a deep kiss, moaning into your mouth and vibrating every nerve in your body as he follows you over the edge, spurred on by your own release. He buries his cock inside you as deep as he can, you feel warm and full and complete.

For what feels like a few minutes, you remain tangled with one another, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You can feel the soft puffs of his breathing against your skin, which is now damp.

Eventually, he draws back, kisses your cheek and tucks himself back into his underwear. You pull the straps of your dress back into place and when you push yourself off the counter, realize your legs are trembling and you wobble.

Kendall reaches to steady you. “Go sit down,” he squeezes your arm and you barely manage to stumble to his couch before you’re slumping against the cushions and struggling to unlace the strappy heels you’ve still got on.

He joins you a moment later, placing a glass of cold water on the coffee table and kneeling to help you out of your shoes. You can only imagine what you must look like, because he looks disheveled, shirt still hanging open, pants unbuttoned, your lipstick still smudged on his cheek. Exhausted as you are, it makes you want him all over again.

He settles next to you, pulls you to his chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to whisper softly in his ear. “Ken,” he turns his head slightly, cheek pressed against your forehead. “I love you.”

From this angle you can only see the corner of his eyes, the way they crinkle as he looks down bashfully, eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks at your admission, words he so rarely has heard before. Words you have vowed to repeat until he believes you – because sometimes you think he doesn’t. Still, he answers. “I love you, too.” You close your eyes a moment, your heart rate returning to normal, and take in one final deep breath. Content.

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Kendall says eventually, hands in your hair, tugging gently so you’ll look up at him.

“Right,” you nod. “Honestly, I don’t know if I even want to go out anymore.”

“But you got all dressed up,” he smirks.

“Look where it got me.”

He laughs. “Uh-huh. You knew what you were doing what you fucking put that shit on.”

You don’t deny it, feeling your cheeks grow warm. It’d be too easy to stay with him, to slide across his lap and kiss him until he takes you again. But your phone dings on the counter, and you know you can’t abandon your friends entirely. You sigh, pulling away from Kendall and looking him in the eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he encourages. “I’ll wait up for you.”

#succession #succession writing #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut #kendall x reader alliance please rise!!!!

1K notes · View notes

comphy-and-cozy · 4 months

Note

oh I have a marty thot for sure! I’ve been thinking about riding his thigh while he sits back and just watches, kinda unimpressed at the show and telling you “you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Earn It

Pairing: Matt Martin x sugar baby!reader (f)

Universe: sugar daddy Marty

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Sugar daddy/baby dynamic, lap dance, semi-public/risque sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, choking, mild degradation, creampie, a little bit of cum play (lmao jfc).

Fridays are supposed to be celebratory; the end of the week, welcoming in a few days off to relax and reset. What they’re not supposed to be are stressful, non-stop, chaotic.

Yet here you are, already thinking about the large glass of wine you’re going to pour yourself when you get home; the only decision you’re planning to make for the rest of the night is red or white.

Setting your keys into the bowl on the table beside the door, you eye the pristine leather sneakers next to your shoe rack, but make no move to greet the person you already know is waiting on the couch. You knew you’d regret having the extra key made for him, that he’d show up unannounced like a poorly-timed pimple, but it’s not like you really could say no—not when you consider that he all but pays your rent.

When you round the corner, bag left on the quartz countertop (an upgrade he insisted on when you were signing your new lease), you finally offer him your attention.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he muses, glancing up from where he’s scrolling on his phone. You do your best to mask the shiver that runs down your spine when his eyes lock with yours. Based on the smirk that quirks up on his face, you’d wager a guess that you did a poor job of it.

“Hi, Matty,” you say. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You need a new dress for the charity gala,” he drawls.

“I do, do I?”

He ignores your attitude, standing up to walk over to the island and setting the invitation in front of you. You glance it over, admiring the thick, black cardstock and gold foil detailing the casino-themed event taking place at UBS Arena next month.

“Black tie attire,” you hum. “I don’t have anything that’s black-tie appropriate.”

“That’s why you need a new dress.”

“And that’s why you’re here right now, sitting on my couch after a day from hell, full of back-to-back meetings, am I correct?”

Matt smiles again. “Already have a bubble bath going for you, my little brat. I’ll be here tomorrow at 9 to pick you up.”

You feel a little guilty for the sass, smiling bashfully at him as he plants a sweet kiss on your cheekbone on his way to the door. “Lock up behind me, darlin’.”

Goddamn him. Always knowing exactly how to charm you to get you to bend to his every will—but not without giving him the kind of attitude that makes his dick hard. A fair tradeoff, in your opinion.

That’s why you work, why your dynamic makes your relationship feel so smooth and seamless and… perfect. Except the part where he’s paying you to fuck him.

Either way, it’s how you find yourself walking along Fifth Avenue, following Matt as he leads you into stores with price tags that intimidate you so much, your cheeks get hot. He lets you browse on your own, warming you up a bit, picking out a few items for work along with a new Yves Saint Laurent purse.

Purchase after purchase. Item after item. The ease with which Matt whipped out his thick, black credit card—you know, the heavy ones that just feel luxurious—almost physically pains you as you try to do the mental math of what he’d spent today.

Finally, you follow him to the dresswear section of Bergdorf Goodman’s, admiring the ease with which he carries the multiple bags in his large hands. You feel well and truly spoiled, thinking to yourself that the dark green lace set he purchased at Fleur du Mal will come in handy later when it comes time to show your gratitude.

“This dress,” he murmurs against your temple, pressing an affectionate kiss to your skin as the fitting room attendant readies a room for you. “I want everyone there to imagine fucking you out of it.”

At this point, you’re used to his blunt and sometimes crude nature, but that doesn’t stop your skin from heating at his crass words. You can’t deny the warmth that radiates between your legs, though, at the thought of him showing you off, claiming you as his, publicly. And, well, how are you supposed to say no to him buying you a dress that’s worth more than your groceries for the month?

The selection is enormous, and you find yourself overwhelmed by the options—lace, chiffon, silk, crepe—all of it doesn’t mean much to you, so you rely on your stylist to select a few options that complement your body type. Matt sits quietly in the corner of the fitting room, watching you try on dress after dress, making barely any comment other than an occasional hum.

When the stylist leaves you to contemplate your options, you glance over your reflection, at the Alex Perry gown that stares back at you. It’s the first dress that feels right, and you can’t help the feeling of excited anticipation that fills your chest when you think about wearing it beside Matt at the gala. Maybe he’d wear that delicious gray suit that you like, the one you almost stained permanently humping his thigh like a fucking dog in heat.

“Is this the one you want?”

You do a final spin in the mirror, checking the various angles and standing on your toes to imitate your height in heels. It’ll need to be altered a bit, but you’re pleased with the way it fits your body and, more importantly, the way it makes you feel luxurious. With your nod, Matt leans forward and glances at the price tag hanging out of the back. His eyes flick to yours in the mirror, and you stew in discomfort for the few seconds before he’s sitting back, apparently approving of the price.

A wide smile forms on your face, feeling a bit like a child on Christmas morning at your excitement. You like Matt for far more than his wallet, but you can’t deny that it feels nice to be spoiled by him, to feel lavished by his gifts and special treatment.

“Think it’s time for you to say thank you, don’t you?”

Matt’s low purr snaps you out of your thoughts, eyes focusing back on the navy silk material that’s hugging your body. The corset bodice keeps you tucked in, accentuating the curve of your breasts, fabric draped across your middle and fastened in place with a large, glittering piece. But the real attention-grabber is the slit on the left side that goes up to your hip, revealing almost your entire leg.

You cast a glance at him in the mirror, a flutter in your chest when you see the way his eyes rake in your reflection. He hums, and though he told you it was your decision, you’re pleased that he likes what he sees.

“Thank you, Matty,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. You lean forward and press a kiss against his lips, warm and soft—the kind you could fall into with ease. He smiles, crooked and patronizing as he tsks.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know that isn’t good enough. Look at all these bags—all for you. I think I deserve more gratitude than that, hm?”

The hidden meaning of his velvet words are enough to make you shiver, your heart chilling as you realize what he wants. His eyes glitter as he watches you, sees the recognition on your face and the hitch in your throat.

Your voice is hoarse as you whisper, “Here?”

Matt blinks, lazily, with a raised eyebrow, like he’s challenging to you to deny him. Of course you can’t, and he knows it. He leans back on the bench, his back resting against the wall and his legs spread comfortably. It’s a silent invitation, one you can’t refuse, and you find yourself moving to sit in his lap with a shaky gulp.

His hands weave their way to your hips, warm through the material of your jeans. “Good girl.”

With just the right amount of pressure, he encourages you to move your waist, swaying your hips as your ass brushes against his groin. He’s half hard, the bulge firm against you as you set a rhythm, listening for any other customers entering the dressing rooms nearby. The classy elevator music hums softly through the speakers while the silk covering your ass glides against his slacks in a filthy narrative.

A low hum of approval sounds from Matt’s chest, eyes glued to the way you work your hips. It isn’t long before you’re glancing behind you, meeting his eyes as he regards you with his easy, lazy gaze. Beneath the firm press of your ass, you can feel him hardening as the tick of your heartbeat increases in your throat. His signature smirk slides its way onto his face, smug, soaking in the fact that he’s got you wrapped around his finger, willing to do practically anything he asks you.

It isn’t long before he’s stiff, solid beneath you, and you feel an involuntary throb at the size of him. Every moment, you remain vigilant, ears perked for voices—or worse, the sound of someone’s gasp. It reflects in your movements, not lackluster but certainly not to your usual level of enthusiasm. There’s something about him when he’s like this—cocky confidence rolling off of him in waves, his gaze heating your skin—that drives you desperately, deliciously wild, a feral urge in you snatching control of your conscience.

But not right now. And he knows it.

He hums, displeased, and you have a split moment to register his disappointment before he’s purring, “Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

The velvet of his voice strokes the flame inside you, sending a wave of warmth between your thighs. Another throb against the stiffness under your ass. His hands remain at his sides, not offering any assistance. You can practically feel his lazy gaze on your ass, waiting patiently for you to react.

He senses your hesitation, knows the reason you’re timid—waiting for the fitting room attendant to come back at any minute and discover the lewd situation unfolding. So he changes his approach, voice honeyed and silky smooth. “Look at that gorgeous dress. Y’look fucking stunning in it, baby. But you gotta earn it, darlin’.”

You meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror, see the glitter in them that tells you he’s serious, accepting the small nod he gives you. Bracing your hands on his meaty thighs, you resume your movements, pressing yourself into his groin with more force.

Matt’s words echo in your head as you work him—and yourself—into a frenzy. Earn it. He didn’t specify what his… end goal was, but from the glint in his eye you think it’s safe to assume it’s more than just a clothed lap dance in the middle of the dressing room.

How you ended up half-naked, thong tugged to the side, hands bracing yourself against the wall of the fitting room, you’re not sure; all you really know is the feeling of Matt’s weight behind you, so tall his face is almost out of your view in the mirror’s reflection. He’s not looking at you, instead focused on tapping the head of his erection against your ass.

You bite your lip to stifle a whine, staring at him in the hopes he’ll offer you just a glance so you can beg him silently to please, put it in. Eventually, he does, sees the desperation pooling in your eyes and chuckles smugly, pleased at the rash desire he finds in them.

“Arch it for me, sweet girl.”

Obeying, you press your ass out toward him, thinking you’d break your back right here, right now, if it meant he’d provide you with some relief. His warm palm presses against your spine, encouraging you to go further, and he hums in approval at the view you present him: expensive dress bunched over the swell of your hips, ass out, pussy dripping, eyes wanton and pleading with him in the mirror.

“You want it?” he asks, his voice so low you strain to hear it.

You’re almost embarrassed at how fast you nod, not wanting to waste any time. He smirks again, and you know he’s biting back the urge to tease you, instead just offering, in all its simplicity: “Slut.”

There’s a brief moment where he allows his words to sink in, a flood of arousal seeping out of your bare, uncovered core, threatening to drip onto the faded wood flooring of the dressing room. You’re grateful that he didn’t make you beg—he usually does—but then he’s pressing into you without warning and a loud cry leaves your lips.

Your hand slaps over your mouth to muffle the sound, but he’s already gotten what he wants out of you, a more than obvious admission of the debauchery occurring just inside the fitting room. Instead, he focuses on the warm wetness enveloping his dick, watching the way your cunt sucks him in, greedy.

Despite his reckless attitude, he’s aware of the slap of his hips against your ass, and instead of jackhammering into you the way he wants to, he’s opted for hard, deep, slow thrusts; hard enough to have a soft, involuntary sigh every time he sheaths himself to the hilt inside of you. It’s the opposite of a quickie (even though that’s exactly what this is); instead, he’s diligent, indulging himself in the feeling of your tight walls throbbing around his length.

All things considered, you’re pleased with the minimal amount of noises sounding from your stall; though your body shivers when you hear the low groan rumble in his chest. With a glance in the mirror, you can see the way he’s watching himself pull out of your cunt, biting his lip at the sight.

Matt offers a light slap of his tip against your lips before he’s jutting his hips forward, subtly, to rub his length against your clit. The sensation makes you shiver, the slickness of his shaft sliding against the tender button, and you feel the shockwaves coursing through you at the movement.

With his free hand, he gathers your hair in his fist and yanks backward, arching your back until your head is resting against his chest. The sharp pain melds into pleasure, loving the way he knows exactly how to take control over your body to have you dizzy with lust. Hot breath fans over your ear, soft and subtle pants puffing air down your neck. “Fuck yourself on it, baby.”

His warm fingers press into your hips, urging you to move; you do, seeking out that delicious tingle when the fat tip of his cock brushes against your clit, running between your folds. You hear the pleased hum in your ear, quiet, and then the chuckle that follows when he slips into you, a loud gasp leaving your lips.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs with a low groan. “So fucking wet for me, just the way I like it.”

Matt urges you to keep going, biting back another moan at the feeling of him being buried inside you. Your hips roll him in and out of you, and Matt’s hand trails over your ribcage, groping your breast on its way up to finally land at your throat, fingers curling around the base and squeezing. “Makin’ too much noise. Someone’s gonna hear you, and then I won’t get to flood this pretty little cunt with cum, will I?”

Swallowing the urge to whine with need, you shake your head, trying to tell him with your eyes how badly you want that. His lips press softly against the place where your shoulder meets your neck, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror while he angles his hips in search of the spot that’s going to have you dribbling down your legs. He knows he’s reached it by the way your mouth falls open, your brows scrunching in pleasure when the nudge of him against your g-spot has your eyes fluttering shut.

He hums again, and you know he’s pleased—both with himself for reading your body like his favorite book, and with you for being obediently quiet. The hand around your neck tightens while the forceful punch of Matt’s hips grows more intentional, aiming for precision rather than speed.

The smirk in the mirror, flashed in your direction is enough to make you shiver in his arms. “You think you can stay quiet while you come for me? Hmm?”

You’re trapped—can’t nod, can’t speak, barely hanging onto your last shred of control before you’re succumbing to the release that rips through you. Your legs shake, lungs scrambling for breath as the wave crashes over you, hands clutching the wall in search of purchase. Tears prick at the rims of your eyes, blurring your vision.

Matty’s eyes glitter as he pulls out of you, grinning when he hears the slickness between your legs.

“Love it when she purrs for me.”

It’s only when you feel hot liquid oozing out of you that you realize he met his climax, too, burying the evidence deep within your core. Your shaky legs clench together in an effort to prevent his cum from seeping down your legs and onto the floor.

Matt’s hands linger on your sides to make sure you’re steady before he’s tugging your panties back in place and swooping the dress back over your hips. He hums at the creamy drips on the inside of your thighs, swiping up to collect it on his finger. You don’t even have to be told to open your mouth, eyes fluttering shut when he presses the salty mixture onto your tongue. He hums when your lips close around the digit, sucking it clean before he releases it with a pop.

His eyes are still dark when he presses the call button on the wall with a crooked grin, and when the attendant knocks gently on the door, he says simply, “We’ll take the dress.”

#matt martin fic #matt martin x reader #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey smut

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thewritingginger · 11 months

Text

18+ Imagine Taiju Shiba...

& you having hate sex.

I finally got around to watching the 2nd season of TR I’ve read the entire manga but seeing my bae Taiju animated got the wheels in my head turnin’ 😩

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Taiju Shiba x Fem! Reader Word count: 1.1k+ words Warnings: 18+, Established relationship, Argument, Dub-con, Dirty talk, Oral sex (M! receiving), Rough sex, Slight degrading, Spanking, Creampie, Poorly edited

Enjoy ~

The two of you had been at each other's throats for the past hour and that’s not even including the car ride home and before. It’s been a while since the two of you had gotten this heated with each other. Taiju was already irritable from the moment he had woken up this morning and you knew better than to poke the bear when he is in one of his moods.

Shit had been going down with the staffing at his restaurant and to top it off there had been some family drama stirring up and the moment you tried to mediate you were in hot water since you first opened your mouth to now in your living room where the both of you are yelling over each other.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you that it is Shiba family matters. You have no place to stick your nose into it.” That got to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I was under the impression that I was your family or does this ring on my finger mean nothing?”

“Don’t try to pull that shit, you know you had no business getting between me and my brother.” Back and forth you two go, like a broken record the same words keep getting reused and rehashed—making this mess into a disaster till you finally had enough.

“You know what, I don't have to deal with this,” you say, throwing your hands in the air, “I’m leaving!” Turning on your heel, grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter.

“No the fuck you’re not,” Taiju says, heavy footstep sounding behind you.

“Yes the fuck I am,” you counter but before your hand can touch the front door handle Taiju grabs your wrist and turns your back to the door, his towering figure looming over you.

“You’re not leaving this damn house.” Leaning over you till your noses are centimeters apart, you daringly cross the distance till they are touching.

“Or what?” you taunt, any sane person would know this to be a death wish but you’re too fired up with rage to care which only fans the fury burning behind your fiance’s amber eyes.

In a blink of an eye your body becomes weightless, Taiju lifts you up and slams your back against the door before he takes your lips with his. Limbs tightening, teeth clashing and hair pulling—the two of you become a tangled mess of hot breath and lust.

Sitting on the kitchen counter with articles of clothing falling off by the second, you feel Taiju’s hard cock grinding against you. A strangled cry falls from your lips when he pulls your head back by your hair, his strong hand firmly holding your roots, leaving you little room to move.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk out that damn door.”

“Bite me,” you say before he cuts you off with his hungry mouth, he takes you back to the living room where he unceremoniously tosses you onto the couch. You watch as he tears off his remaining clothes till he is standing completely naked, his powerful body on full display. Straddling your torso, Taiju yanks you up right by your hair once more and rubs his leaking cockhead against your mouth.

“Open,” he commands, “I’m going to fuck the smart ass right out of this fucking mouth of yours.” His other hand pries your mouth open just enough for him to sheath his thick length down your throat till you gag. You look pitiful with your mouth stretched wide, drool seeping from the corners of your lips and his balls smacking your chin as tears fall down your cheeks. Your hands grip his thighs for support, your nails digging into his muscle so hard you could draw blood.

“Such a good little cock slut. You think you’ve learned your lesson?” he asks, roughly pulling out of your mouth allowing you breath, spit falling from your lips as you gasp for air.

“Go to hell,” you spit. With nothing but a growl as his response Taiju quickly flips you over till you are holding onto the back of the couch. Pulling your work skirt up over your hips, Taiju’s strong hand comes down on your bare asscheek with a hard smack!

Pulling your panties to the side he stuffs his throbbing cock into your pussy and begins to pound into you with as much force as he can muster. Every harsh pump, an expression of his anger.

“Filthy little cunt already soaking wet for me. You like it when I’m rough with you, huh? Like talking back to me, knowing I’ll fuck the brat right out of you?” His taunts hiss between his gritted teeth, his hand spanking your ass over and over again till you cry out.

“Fuck!” you cry, your head hanging down before he pulls it back up till you’re looking at yourself in the reflection of the dark window, his mouth right next to your ear.

“Look at yourself as you take my cock—Shit!” he yells, standing back, one hand in your hair and the other pulling your hips back to him as he watches your greedy pussy swallow his thick length.

“Yes, Taiju! Fuck me like you mean it,” you moan, he laughs at your meager attempts at remaining mad at him but the truth is you love him and you love this. He makes your body feel on fire, the way he uses his strength against you is more powerful than any drug you can find.

“Always trying to act all big and bad but you’re nothing but putty in my hand—or should I say on my cock.” His voice is condescending and annoying but all that goes out the window when he releases your hip to scratch at your neglected clitoris, shooting you over the edge. Incoherent wails and words fall from your lips as he continues to piston his cock in your exhausted cunt and you can hear that your fiance isn’t far behind.

“Fuck, Baby, you’re squeezing my cock so tight,” he groans, releasing you entirely to pull your hips back with both hands, his pumps becoming stuttered and impatient for his end. “You want my cum, Baby? Want me to fill you nice and full?”

“Yes. Yes!” you cry, a second high drawing near. Reaching between your legs you rub your clitoris with quick circles as Taiju finally erupts within you, his hip still using you to milk every drop from his balls taking you over the edge with him one last time.

The two of you are hunched over the couch, heaving for breath, collecting yourselves from your heated joining. Your dazed thoughts are brought back when you feel Taiju’s lips pressing against your bare shoulder.

“I love you,” he grumbles in a low voice, much softer than he was moments before, “I’m sorry.” His apology is sincere, looking over your shoulder you give him a smile.

“I’m sorry too.” Pulling out of you, you were about to go to the bathroom to clean up but Tiaju throws you over his shoulder and heads towards the stairs. “Tai!”

“Sorry, Sweetheart but I still have some anger left to get out.”

I hope you enjoyed it!

Feedback & interaction is alway appreciated!

💛 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Let me know if you want to be part of my tag list [HERE]

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev taiju shiba #tokyorev taiju #taiju shiba #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju smut #tokyorev smut #x reader #x fem!reader #*nsfw

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teratophilia · 13 days

Text

Another bit of personal experience with NPD: de-intensifying thoughts.

You're probably going to have more luck with this in professional psychiatric setting because this entire process works better in guided and controlled environment, but it isn't necessary. Personally, I have a good amount of self-control and that helps. It might not work for you, just keep in mind there are other methods out there.

The idea is in diminishing intensity of emotions, thoughts, and conclusions once you notice that you're hit by a strong feeling or conviction:

"Everyone loves me" -> "There are people who love me and there are people who don't love me. There's also a great chunk of people who don't know me and it's illogical to expect them to like me without meeting/knowing me."

"Everyone hates me" -> "There are people who dislike me, but there are also people who cherish and love me. I am not worthless just because someone dislikes me."

"I failed at XYZ, which means I can't ever do anything right" -> "Failure is part of the process. The greatest minds of our generation had mistakes, bad days, poorly accepted art, etc. I am not talentless just because of one mistake."

"I haven't gotten supply in a while, I have to leave" -> "They might not know that I need attention as I didn't make it explicit. I can initiate spending time together or directly tell them I need to hear XYZ. I am not being fair."

"X disagrees with me, meaning their opinion is worthless" -> "They might disagree with me, but it doesn't mean they have no worth. If anything, someone willing to healthily debate with me is a person worthy of respect".

"Only MY opinion matters" -> "Actually, it will be really embarrassing if I end up being wrong. Very few opinions are worth dying on that hill. Keeping middle ground and establishing reasons why I lean towards X and not Y might be the best option".

"I have shown vulnerability, which means they see me as weak" -> "Most people do not consider vulnerabilty a weakness. In fact, me showing my true emotions most likely made them proud of me. I do not have to continue opening up if I'm uncomfortable, but it isn't a mistake that I did".

And so on. The hardest part is going to be to catch the emotion when it comes over. I don't have advice on how to become more mindful aside from actively paying attention to how you feel over the course of the day/week/month, etc. Maybe journal or create mind maps for your feelings. Whatever works for you, really.

This is loosely based around the general logic behind transference focused psychotherapy, which is something that can be used for treating NPD, as I recently learned. I am not a psychiatrist and my therapy is self-applied. With that being said, do your homework and don't trust me blindly.

P.S. Yet again, this is not universal advice so use your brain.

#𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐖: 📡#npd #actually npd #actually narcissistic #narcissistic personality disorder #narc safe #npd safe #npd advice

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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 5 months

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*°:⋆ₓₒ day 13. blowjob

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “holiday blow”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ as iii is writing letters to his loved ones, you decided to give him a little treat underneath his desk

pairing: iii x gn!reader

a/n: i’m actually so ass at coming up with titles for my christmas event 😟 made this while i was sick, so it’s lazily written.

cw: nsfw content. blowjob. semi-public sex. kinda subby vibes from iii.

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“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“whatcha doinnnn’?”

“writing letters for the boys.”

“oh fun! make sure to write to santa to get me that teacup puppy for christmas.”

iii just chuckled and rolled his eyes at your lame attempt of a joke, which was to definitely get him to buy you that adorable little puppy. though, iii saw right through your devious little scam.

“not happening, y/n.” he joked back, and he grunted when you punched his shoulder playfully.

“awww come on!!! it’s so cute! you can’t say no to this adorable face!” you said while waving your arms around, pulling up a very poorly printed picture of a teacup puppy. the ink was printed so badly it made the face of the pooch look disfigured, and iii stifled a laugh.

“i can say no, actually. that thing looks like it’s on life support.” iii said sassily, shoving the picture away from his face. to this, you gasped dramatically while falling over his desk.

“oh great heavens! my best friend won’t get me the gift i oh so desperately need! this is anarchy i tell you!!” you monologued rather interestingly, throwing in some poor shakespeare gestures that was paired with bad acting.

iii just raised an eyebrow at your shenanigans, clearly not convinced.

“not happening.”

“oh come on, iii! i’ll do anything! even the most humiliating thing ever!”

the quilt iii held between his fingers only continued to write fancy, honeyed words across the paper. he just sighed heavily, not thinking you’d actually go drastic measures for some tiny puppy as a gift.

“annnything?”

“anything i tell you!”

“you sure about that?”

“yes i am! i’ll even… uhhh..”

iii kept his eyes glued to the paper, clearly not convinced by your obnoxious explaining and weird, theater gestures. he swore you were high at some point. clearly, this was getting nowhere.

the bassist just dropped his pen in the ink bottle and put an arm on his desk, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “well?”

you didn’t even know what came over you, because you blurted out:

“i’ll even suck your dick!”

… well.

that’s an idea that certainly piqued iii’s interest.

and you seemed sooo confident about your answer too, crossing your arms and holding your ground. though, iii could see through those playful eyes that you were actually nervous about what you just said to him.

oh we’ll, he’ll humor you for a bit.

“oh? you serious about that?” iii spoke teasingly, his fingers subconsciously playing with the buckle of his belt, getting turned on from the idea of you going down on him.

you nodded, still keeping your confident face up. “absolutely.”

this was a nice turn of events. iii smirked and rolled his chair out to make space for you, allowing for you to crawl under the little nook within his desk. the bassist rolled back into place, and grabbed the feather pen again, feeling your eager fingers quickly make work of his belt and tug his pants down. damn, you really were excited.

“ahh… i’m starting to think this is less about the puppy, and more about you just wanting to suck me off.” iii commented absentmindedly, his pen dragging across the paper as he wrote his letters to his loved ones, occasionally acknowledging your presence by moving his free hand under the desk to stroke your hair.

“mmmh… you look so good on your knees, too.”

you just whined in response, not even bothering to reply to iii’s words. soon, you pulled down his boxers to his ankles, his hard cock springing free. he heard you audibly gasp at his size, and he just snickered.

“impressive, huh?” he mumbled, gripping your hair and pulling you closer to the head of his cock, the tip leaking with precum.

“maybe.” you mumbled back, putting one hand on his thigh and the other on iii’s shaft, holding the base with a firm grip that had him groaning.

“nnngh…” he sighed out, hand shaking a bit, hindering his ability to write letters. iii shook his head and gripped your hair tightly.

“don’t just sit there. suck.”

you could hear the desperation in iii’s voice, just wanting to feel your tongue swirl around his dick like a lollipop. it was such a lewd thought, but you loved it. you didn’t waste any time, and opened your mouth, taking him in whole and savoring the satisfying, salty taste of his precum. you could tell how horny he was, from the way he was gripping your hair and forcing you down more onto his hard shaft as you sucked him off.

“f-fuck.” he grumbled, trying to shift his attention on the letters he was writing, but you were too good at sucking him off. iii was getting desperate, completely dropping his pen and gripping onto the side of his desk while he bucked his hips into your mouth.

“s-shit. take it all, oh you’re s-so good at this…” iii whimpered, all of his attention on you now as you gave him the blowjob of a lifetime. you could feel the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, and constrict around it.

the feeling made iii throw his head back with pleasure, letting out a guttural moan while you whimpered around his dick.

“fuck. i-i’m gonna cum, y/n.” he warned, and you took this opportunity to take him as deep as you possibly could.

“s-shit! ahh!”

his eyes widened underneath his face mask, and he moaned loudly as he shot his seed down your throat, watching you swallow all of his cum in a single gulp. he let out a loud pant and pulled your head off of his cock, your mouth coming off the head with a popping sound.

he groaned heavily, and looked at your face. he chuckled as he brushed his thumb over your swollen lips, making you whine.

you giggled and nuzzled his hand.

“so…. can i get that puppy now?”

he chuckled at your words, and ruffled your hair.

“maybe, dollface.” he said with a grin, caressing your cheek. he lifted his mask, and pressed a kiss against your forehead.

“maybe.”

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#holiday hoes event #sleep token smut #iii sleep token #sleep token x reader #iii x reader #iii sleep token smut #sleep token fanfic #st fanfic #smutty drabble #smutty fanfiction #christmas prompts #christmas

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saltpepperbeard · 7 months

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OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TRAILER THOUGHTS AND RAMBLES POST™

Woo boy this is going to be a long one, and I mean, A LONG ONE LMAO. And, of course, all in good fun; i simply just Have To Scream and Incessantly Ramble. So, if you'd like to scream along with me, and read through an ESSAY OF THOUGHTS HERE SHDKJSDHS-

I just have to start things off with my babygirl. With the babygirlest of babygirls. LOOK at that pining. INSANE levels of pining. "When will my husband return from the war" levels of it, quite frankly PFFF. And with the hair back and the slut strands out too like???

I will say, it's very interesting to see him pining like this out in the open. I very much expected him to say locked away in his cabin most of the time, and stay entirely masked whenever he's out. But it seems like he makes STEPS towards healing rather early into the season, as the Kraken Getup seems to drop pretty quick. So, I'm very interested to know how that'll play into his dynamic with other characters (Fang, for example, seems to take notice, based on the comment he makes in the next screenie).

regardless, babygirl you're so strong and beautiful and i'm wrapping you in a blanket, kissing you on the forehead, and express shipping your man RIGHT into your arms. it'll get better, i promise.

but no really i'm going insane because like...just when edward teach couldn't get anymore beautiful, he really decides to pull up with a MESSY BUN???

HIIIIIII FANGY HI FRENCHIE HELLLOOOO MY SWEETHEARTS <3

I don't talk about Fang nearly as much as I should because I love him so much. I think getting a hug from him would Heal Me, actually. Like please hsdjkss he's so sweet- "I've never seen Blackbeard like this 🥺." CAN I GET HIM A PUPPY? I'M GETTING HIM A PUPPY.

Also please are they eating cake hsdksjks. ARE THEY EATING WEDDING CAKE. Imagine your raid is to crash a wedding, steal cake toppers, and then eat what's left of the wedding cake jskdhsdjkls. DREAM JOB???

AND THEN THIS. HOOOOO BOY. HOOOOOOOOOOO BOY.

when i tell y'all i am Foaming At The Mouth over this. Like, it obviously guts me to see Stede crying, but it makes me SO intrigued to know what made him come to the more stark realization, what made him flip from optimistic and bitchy to more somber and pained.

There SEEMS to be some sort of shift sometime around when he sees Ed's wanted poster, because there's that shot of him looking melancholic in the rain. But it doesn't quite seem as stark as THIS.

It makes me wonder if it's a gradual assembly of puzzle pieces, ie finding out about the marooning, then Lucius, then Ed's scourge across the Caribbean, etc etc. And it slooooowly dawns on him that his decision to leave in order to keep Ed happy ended up doing EXACTLY the opposite.

OR, I wonder if this is following the reunion—a PAINFUL one at that. Like, maybe he still was going into it a bit idyllic, and was holding onto the hope that it would still be alright...only for Ed to react poorly/in a way he never anticipated to see. He went into it maybe with a bit of anxiety, but ultimately leaned on the denial...only to have all the fears confirmed.

Or maybe it's a mixture of both. But either way, it's SO so interesting to see him have to SIT with it all. And even though it hurts to see HIM hurt, I'm actually very glad they addressed this and made him feel the heavier weight.

...Only to transition right into silliness here with this shot dHJKSDKLS. ed babe listen i get it. i Get It. i'm right there with you, babe.

BUT ALSO, makes me wonder what he was smoking in his pipe beforehand. Or maybe it was the transition from pipe to a straight BLUNT that got him shdjksd. Or MAYBE it was just ~*~the sapphic kush~*~ that took him out PFFFF. wlw on mlm violence idk.

SPEAKING of which...

here we go, lesbians. here we go, lesbians, come on. oH MY GOD, LESBIANS,,,

do you think anne and mary want me

BUT OKAY LMAO THESE TWO,,,

With that whole shot where it looks like Anne just kissed Stede, and the way they're both 👀👀 at Ed and Stede having their tense little interaction, I have to wonder if their gaydars go off and one or both subsequently decide to stir shit up PFFFF. Like, causing chaos by making Ed/Stede jealous type deal. And maybe Anne kissing Stede is what makes Ed choke on the blunt sdhkshdks WHO KNOWS.

Regardless, very excited to see the pairs interact. WHO KNOWS WHAT SORT OF MLM WLW SHENANIGANS WILL HAPPEN SDKJS.

And ALSO in relation to that scene, I just have to shdjksdhljksdkls over the editing because it took me out. Ed being like "And more importantly, no more Stede >:)" only to show his little wedding topper doll with Stede's subsequent "HULLOOO, IDWAD."

Killed me. KILLED ME DEAD. And also, a neat little way of editing call Ed out on his bullshit REAL FAST HSDJKSL. like, honey, you can try, but you know full and damn well that silly little guy has burrowed into the deepest chambers of your heart. he has your heart and you have his, WHOOPS.

Ricky, right? This is Ricky??

"WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY..."

So okay, a nose prosthesis is metal as hell, but that means we ALLLLLL know who he got tangled with PFFF. And I believe we see him in the Republic of Pirates talking to Stede and Co??? So I'm very VERY interested to see how that all devolves, and how he goes from vibing to wanting to throw hands.

Unless he was like, on some sort of reconnaissance mission for the British in the first place.

But I digress. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU, RICKY. RICKY, WHEN I CATCH YOU HSDJKLSLKS

...The way I missed this SEVERAL times over, and didn't even see it until someone else pointed it out in another post.

IZZY WITH A HOOF PEGLEG. PRESUMABLY FROM THE UNICORN. BECAUSE WHERE ELSE WOULD THEY GET A WOODEN HOOF HSDKLJS.

But that also has me like 👁️👁️ for SO many different reasons. How did he lose a good portion of his leg? Was Stede the one to offer up the unicorn leg as a pegleg?

And TRULY, WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH HIM AND STEDE ANYWAY HSDKJLS LIKE I STILL CAN'T EVEN WRAP MY MIND FULLY AROUND THAT ONE,,,

My running theory is still that like...Izzy wanted a very specific version of Blackbeard. Izzy wanted someone who no longer exists, or maybe never existed to begin with. And so Izzy thought he was doing right by taking Stede out of the picture and nudging Ed back into a more viscous type of pirating...

Only for that to COMPLETELY backfire, and for Ed to get far more unstable. And like, something something Izzy was already complaining about Ed's "erratic moods" and "questionable decisions" BEFORE Stede came into the picture, so I doubt he's going to be content with Ed's turmoil and all the impulsivity that'll likely come with it.

So maybe, MAYBE, I'm thinking he'll have a bit of growth by realizing that Ed and Stede need each other, or maybe that Ed was way happier when things were smoother between him and Stede, at least. And knowing him and his characterization lol, it might not even be a selfless realization/decision. Maybe he'll only be doing it because he wants a less emotional version of Ed, and thinks that having Stede around and being cordial with him will allow that to happen.

And maybe it leads to even MORE growth when he gets roped into training Stede/the crew idk.

Regardless, REGARDLESS, they are one of the last pairs I ever expected to team up, because they were ACTIVELY bitching at each other all through last season HSDJKS.

HI AGAIN OLU MY SWEET LOVELY OLU MY SWEETHEART DARLING <3

BUT WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, SIR. WHAT'S THE TEA????

I'm not 100% certain, but it SEEMS like this is at Jackie's, or at least in the Republic of Pirates somewhere. And based on Ricky's injury, and also other little tidbits of footage, it SEEMS like something goes down there. Maybe some sort of scuffle between the Navy and our guys or something equivalent that snowballs into even ~*~Larger Problems~*~

SEE BECAUSE YEAH—EXPLOSIONS?? CANNON FIRE??? WHAT'RE Y'ALL DOIIINNNGGG LMAO.

And it's so wild because I definitely see Olu (with the CROCS OFC LMAO) and Pete, and then I THINK I see Lucius and Izzy in that mix too??? So like,,,

WHAT DID Y'ALL GET TANGLED IN SDHJKSKLS. AND WHERE IN THE SEASON WOULD THIS FALL??????

Oh this hurts lol. This one hurts. This one hurts a LOT. Stede Bonnet stop breaking my heart Challenge: impossible.

Because that's his home. That's his soul placed into a ship. That's the conglomeration of his hope, and heart, and adventure, and family,,,

And it's in RUINS.

LIKE, CAN THINGS STOP GOING BADLY FOR HIM ACTUALLY HSDKJS. CAN HE STOP GETTING DECKED BY HIS TRAUMA OVER AND OVER AND OVER. BECAUSE,,,

Fresh off the "you defile beautiful things/you're a monster/you're a failure/you ruin everything you touch" train, and he comes back to this. And if this is after he reunites with Ed and realizes things are bad, then man, that'll be even WORSE.

LIKE, NUMEROUS CHAMBERS OF HIS HEART HAVE BEEN SHREDDED. HIS HOME AND HEART ARE BROKEN.

mmMMmmmMMMMMM DAVID CAN WE MAYBE NOT <3 SHDJKLSKS

BUT, off we go cartwheeling from that footage to a VERY interesting bit of dialogue from Stede:

"The entire escape relies on this."

Escape?? ESCAPE???

Here I was thinking they enlisted they help of the Red Flag Fleet and/or Susan to try and catch up with the Revenge. So, ESCAPE???????

Did they get captured? Snatched up from the Republic of Pirates or something equivalent? Does someone have beef with Ed and holds Stede and Co hostage because they're trying to aid him?

OR, are they voluntarily on that ship to hide/lay low from the Navy or something, but their cover has been blown, and they have to quickly flee back onto the Revenge?

Very very inch resting whatever the case.

...

STEDE. FOOKIN. BONNET,,,

🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎🧎

LIKE SIR, WHAT THE FUCK SHDSKD, Y'KNOW??? WITH THE STIDDIES OUT AND THE EARRING AND THE SCRUFF,,,

GOD LMAO. JESUS CHALUPA. CEASE.

like, you're telling me ed is going to see him like this and isn't going to IMMEDIATELY drop and start tying his hair into a ponytail? mmmMMKAY

BUT OKAY—ACTUALLY, that joke sort of brings me to a more angsty theory, because of course it does lol. I have to wonder if Stede is dressing like this because he legitimately wants to, OR, if it's because he feels like he has to.

Like, something something he's trying to do everything he can to win respect and establish himself and ALSO win back his man. And, something something he is ONCE AGAIN doing what HE thinks Ed wants, as opposed to what Ed might ACTUALLY want. Like, "Oh, he's a notorious pirate. He'll like me again if I have a little more gruff and backbone, right? That's what pirates like, right???"

LIKE NO YOU DOOFUS HSDSHDS HE LOVES YOU AS YOU ARE, JUST AS YOU LOVE HIM HOW HE IS. AND HE DREAMS OF DRESSING IN A DRESS WHEN MARRYING YOU. SO LIKE,,,

IF THAT IS INDEED THE CASE, I'M BEATING ED TO THE CHASE AND HEADBUTTING HIM MYSELF HSDKJLSDS.

*grumbling* even though it's a very VERY good look on him, so i hope it's more on his own volition.

I just want him to feel comfortable as HIMSELF, and feel like he doesn't have to perform/conform to anything. And I think there's something very deeply queer about him and Ed BOTH going through that. They're BOTH trying to figure themselves out and what they're comfortable with and who they want to be. And I hope that, IF this is his look, it's something that HE wants entirely.

((Which makes me raise my eyebrows a bit more because of the Cunty Red Jacket. Because he's CUNT. And also his curls are more pronounced when he wears that too. SooOOOoooOOO?????? VERY interested to see what he wants, and where he comfortably settles))

AND GODDDDDD ONTO YET ANOTHER VERY EYEBROW RAISING PART LMAO.

So, we've seen that shot of someone falling into the water like 80 million times at this point. And this trailer ALSO showed an additional shot of said person SINKING into the gloom. At least, I THINK it was the same person/connected. Again, could be a total misdirect lol.

And then we've seen all the blue-tinted shots of Ed off on his own somewhere, fight someone/something all the while being accompanied by some unknown figure.

And BECAUSE of the tinting/consistent lighting, and BECAUSE of the figure accompanying him, I have to also wonder like others similarly are...

Is this a DREAM???

Is this some sort of unconscious sequence where Ed works through trauma/hurt/demons? Is that person with him the ghost of Hornigold or another significant figure from his past? And does said sequence end with him jumping from the cliff and allowing the Kraken to disappear back to the gloom???

But something that makes that whole theory SUS is the shots we've gotten of someone, presumably Ed, coming up out of the ocean. And it's not tinted blue like all of these other shots are.

So it's just hsdjkhsdjksdhskjdhsjksfs??????

Regardless, REGARDLESS, I think all of this points to Ed going on some sort of journey, some sort of bout of self-discovery and self-acceptance. I think he's going to heal parts of himself, or at least SETTLE with parts of himself, no matter the circumstances. And that would be so good because I want that so badly for him. I want him to be able to do that for himself.

...AND SPEAKING OF HEALING SHDJKSKLS

BUNNY. BUNNET. SIR THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT STEDE BUNNET.

but omfg this is yet another case of my brain not being able to piece together timelines. because ed babe where ARE you. "BABYGIRL WHERE ARE YEEEWW..."

He looks so soft, and also has on a different ring??? An emerald/cyan looking ring??? AND THE KRAKEN RING THAT TAIKA ALWAYS WEARS HSDKJS.

So I just hsdjkhdjklsdhdjklshsjkls. "jodi you'e literally going to find out in like less than a month" I KNOW I KNOW OKAY BUT THAT DOESN'T PREVENT ME FROM GNAWING ON MY DESK FOR 18-ISH MORE DAYS HSDKJLS.

Also, as an aside, I SO very hope this leads to Fangy getting a puppy. I SO very hope that the "pets befouling the ship" clause is scratched from the rulebook PFFFF.

LOOK AT MY SWEETHEARTS HAVING FUN. LOOK AT JIM BEING UNHINGED SHDKJSS LOVE THAT FOR THEM. SERIOUS GOOSE IS BACK TO SILLY GOOSE!!! LOOK AT STEDE LOOKING LIKE A PROUD DAD. THIS IS THE SHIT I'M HERE FOR!!!

also hi hello is that archie. dO YOU THINK ARCHIE WANTS M-(GUNSHOTS)

i'll just be in the corner sobbing over being attracted to so many of these damn pirates. like, it's an Issue

...mmMMMMMM ONLY FOR ME TO TRANSITION RIGHT BACK INTO ANGST TERRITORY LMAO. BECAUSE STEDE, DARLING, WHAT IS THAT INJURY???

I've seen people theorize it's a stab wound, a bullet wound, or some sort of wound that was burned/cauterized. Either way, EITHER WAY, OUCH??? CAN MY DARLING PLEASE KNOW PEACE HSDJKSDKL

Also again, this all plays back into my theory that they're having a party, only to get crashed by some sort of navy personal or another pirate bounty hunter of some variety. And Stede gets captured/tortured.

*Banging pots and pans together* WHEEEEERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE IN THE TIMELINE WHERE ARE WE HSDJKLSHDLKS

Same shirt, but has his EARRING. And is BATTLING A SHIT TON OF PEOPLE. So I would assume this comes AFTER the party fiasco, but also jsjshdjkshlJKHDKLS????

Also the CONCERN on his face is so striking. It makes me wonder if he's looking at Ed. ESPECIALLY because—

SAME BEACH, SAME BATTLE??? SEPARATED BY THE PARTY FIASCO AND ARE NOW FIGHTING TO GET TO ONE ANOTHER?????

But two things about this shot. Well, three, if you count me absolutely FOAMING at the mouth at getting to see Ed battle because hsdjhsjkhsdjkls bARK,,,

One, his sword is bloody. Love that for him. King shit. Slicing and dicing.

BUT TWO, AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, HE APPEARS TO BE HOLDING HIS RIGHT SIDE. NOT THE LEFT SIDE WHERE HE'S BEEN STABBED LIKE 12+ TIMES, BUT THE RIGHT.

HE GETS INJURED??? DO THEY BOTH GET INJURED?????? DAVID I KNOW WE HAVE LIKE 18+ DAYS LEFT BUT I'M DYING OVER HERE HSDJKSLDS

oh hi izzy lmao the way i did not expect the hardest line in the trailer to come from him.

"You don't know the first thing about piracy. It's not about glory, it's about belonging to something."

God. GOD. I really feel like he's going to end up surprising me so much this season lmao.

((BECAUSE NOT TO MENTION, THE FACT THAT HE'S TALKING TO RICKY, AND IT JUST SEEMS,,, 👀))

oh god y'all lmao. want to see how loud i can scream. because, i missed this my first few watches, and didn't even notice until it was later pointed out in people's posts, but,,,

LUCIUS!!! L U C I U S!!!!!! MY BEST FUCKING FRIEND LUCIUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BEARD, WOODEN FINGER, AND ALL.

MY DARLING. MY GUY. MY BESTIE!!!!!!!

Listen, I was like 99.9999999999999999% sure he was alive okay lol. Because NARRATIVELY, he had to be. NARRATIVELY, I think his death would have sent things into irreparable places. Also, silly little pirate rom/com; Y'ALL CAN'T KILL OFF ONE OF THE MOST BELOVED CHARACTERS LMAO LIKE NO WAY.

But regardless, I'm so happy to see him. I'm SO so happy to see him. AND I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIM REUNITE WITH PETE, AS WELL AS SEE HIS REAL AWKWARD INTERACTIONS WITH ED, I'M SURE HSDJKS

Obligatory Wee John in drag mention/shoutout. Because come on now. COME ON NOW. HE'S FUCKING SERVING. ABSOLUTELY SLAYING. THAT BLUE LOOKS SO SO FUCKING GOOD ON HIM TOO. AND IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY FOR KRISTIAN AS WELL LIKE WHAT THE FUCK!!!!

Annnnnnd Obligatory Tealoranges mention/shoutout because goodness, look at them. LOOK at them. LOOK HOW SOFT JIM LOOKS. LOOK HOW SWEET THEY ARE. I'M EATING MY ARM!!!

*Baywatch Theme starts playing*

But okay okay what are we thinking:

Training montage/sequence? Or romantic moment?

STEDE'S ROCKY MOMENT LMAO, OR STEDE'S ROMANTIC HERO MOMENT. RUNNING TO GET GAINS, OR RUNNING TO GET HIS MAN.

OOOOOOO BITCH LMAO. OOOOOOOOOOOO BITCH. *RUBS HANDS TOGETHER*

and also snorting at ed's eyes because, just when i think they can't get any bigger,,, just when i think he can't possibly get even More Eyes than usual,,,

But okay hi hello WOWZERS this sequence. This one REALLY has my brain churning.

And I'm subsequently in the camp of thinking that this is very very soon after their reunion, if not their REUNION PROPER. I'm sort of leaning more towards the former, because something tells me they'd want to keep their reunion proper a secret/save it, since it'll likely be a very pivotal moment.

But regardless, SOMETHING SOMETHING SEASON 1 EP3 MIRROR? STEDE FINDS ED INJURED AND WATCHES OVER HIM???? I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW HYPE THAT WOULD MAKE MEEEEE HURT/COMFORT AND PARALLELS MY BELOVED!!!

Because Ed is DEFINITELY injured. Blood on the side of his head, various cuts and bruises across his face, etc etc. And Stede looks very Concerned when he calls his name. So I'm just 👀

Not to mention also, Ed seems VERY out of it. His eyes are wide/glazed-looking in all of the subsequent shots. And his first reaction is to headbutt Stede away shdkjshdkjs.

So again, the theory that it's right around their reunion seems very plausible, based upon reactions and outfits and the like. BUT WHO KNOWS.

also, for the record, still sobbing at how stede keeps his arm protectively draped over ed during these shots,,,

AND *RUBS HANDS OVER THIS ONE TOO*

,,,and maybe also *wipes tears away* because he just looks so SERENE. he looks so CALM. i have to wonder if this is after a pivotal moment in his healing, be it from his own realizations, an intimate conversation with stede, or both.

i just hope he's legitimately feeling better right here because i want that for him. i want that SO bad for him. I WANT THE WORLD FOR HIM!!!

Annnnnnnd ending it off with this shot because omfg. Three things.

One, JACKIE AND ED GIRLS NIGHT REAL,,,

Two, Ed trying something "different" has me sobbing and throwing up. He just wants to be comfortable. He just wants to be HIMSELF. He just wants to stop PERFORMING AND MASKING.

Three, THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO??? SWACKIE??? THE SWEDE LOOKING SO INCREDIBLY HOT??? THEY WERE NOT LYING WHEN THEY SAID EVERYONE WAS GOING TO BE HOT SHDJKSD

anyway, if you made it this far, then bless you and your resilience LMAO. but also if you made it this far, you're probably just as excited as i am. like, after this trailer, after seeing all of our darlings and seeing the silliness and seeing the interactions...

idk, i'm just feeling THAT much happier. i'm feeling THAT much more confident in our showrunners/cast/crew. and i cannot WAIT to continue feeling happy with all of y'all <3

18 DAYS AND COUNTING. CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HOW WRONG I AM LMAOOOO <333

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bonefall · 4 months

Note

Don’t know if this is the right place to ask, but could you talk more about zoos? I’ve seen many people say that zoos are inherently exploitative and that we should instead focus on advocating for wildlife preserves, etc., but I’m not sure what to think of that. You seem to know a lot about wildlife protection, so what’s your opinion on this?

There are folks faaaar better than myself to talk about the issues of zoos specifically and I'll try to toss in some sources so you can go and learn more, but let me try and explain my mindset here.

Summary of my opinion on this: BOTH of these things can be poorly managed, and I broadly support both. They should exist in tandem. I am pro-accredited zoo and am extremely sensitive towards misinformation. I also do think the best place for animals to be is in their natural environment, but nature "preserves" aren't inherently perfect. They can also be prone to the capitalist (and colonialist) pressures that less informed people believe they're somehow immune to.

Because of the goal of my project being to make the setting of WC accurate to Northwestern England, my research is based on UK laws, ecology, and conservation programs.

On Zoos

On Nature Reserves

An Aside on Fortress Conservation

On Zoos

The legal definition of a Zoo in the UK (because that is what BB's ecological education is based around), as defined by the Zoo Licensing Act of 1981 (ZLA), is a "place where wild animals are kept for exhibition to the public," excluding circuses and pet shops (which are covered by different laws.)

This applies equally to private, for-profit zoos, as well as zoos run by wildlife charities and conservation organizations. Profit does not define a zoo. If there's a place trying to tell you it's not a zoo but a "sanctuary" or a "wildlife park," but you can still go visit and see captive wild animals, even if it's totally free, it's a marketing trick. Legally that is still a zoo in the UK.

(for fellow Americans; OUR definition is broader, more patchwork because we are 50 little countries in a trenchcoat, and can include collections of animals not displayed to the public.)

That said, there's a HUGE difference between Chester Zoo, run by the North of England Zoological Society, which personally holds the studbooks for maintaining the genetic diversity of 10 endangered species, has 134 captive breeding projects, cultivates 265 threatened plant species, and sends its members as consultants to United Nations conferences on climate change, and Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit.

Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pit ONLY has to worry about the UK government. There's another standard zoos can hold themselves to if they want to get serious about conservation like Chester Zoo; Accreditation. There are two major zoo organizations in the UK, BIAZA and EAZA.

(Americans may wonder about AZA; that's ours. AZA, EAZA, and BIAZA are all members of the World Association of Aquariums and Zoos, or WAZA, but they are all individual organizations.)

A zoo going for EAZA's "accreditation" has to undergo an entire year of evaluation to make sure they fit the strict standards, and renewal is ongoing. You don't just earn it once. You have to keep your animal welfare up-to-date and in compliance or you will lose it.

The benefit of joining with an accredited org is that it puts the zoo into a huge network of other organizations. They work together for various conservation efforts.

There are DOZENS of species that were prevented from going extinct, and are being reintroduced back to their habitats, because of the work done by zoos. The scimitar-horned oryx, takhi, California condor, the Galapagos tortoise, etc. Some of these WERE extinct in the wild and wouldn't BE here if it hadn't been for zoos!

The San Diego zoo is preventing the last remaining hawaiian crows from embracing oblivion right now, a species for which SO LITTLE of its wild behavior is known they had to write the book on caring for them, and Chester zoo worked in tandem with the Uganda Wildlife Authority to provide tech and funding towards breakthroughs in surveying wild pangolins.

Don't get me wrong;

MOST zoos are not accredited,

nor is accreditation is REQUIRED to make a good zoo,

nor does it automatically PROVE nothing bad has happened in the zoo,

There are a lot more Sam Tiddles' Personal Zebra Pits than there are Chester Zoos.

That's worth talking about! We SHOULD be having conversations on things like,

Is it appropriate to keep and breed difficult, social megafauna, like elephants or cetaceans? What does the data say? Are there any circumstances where that would be okay, IF the data does confirm we can never provide enough space or stimulation to perfectly meet those species' needs?

How can we improve animal welfare for private zoos? Should we tighten up regulations on who can start or run one (yes)? Are there enough inspectors (no)?

Do those smaller zoos meaningfully contribute to better conservation? How do we know if they are properly educating their visitors? Can we prove this one way or the other?

Who watches the watchmen? Accreditation societies hold themselves accountable. Do these organizations truly have enough transparency?

(I don't agree with Born Free's ultimate conclusion that we should "phase out" zoos, but you should always understand the opposing arguments)

But bottom line of my opinion is; Good zoos are deeply important, and they have a tangible benefit to wildlife conservation. Anyone who tries to tell you that "zoos are inherently unethical" either knows very little about zoos or real conservation work, or... is hiding some deeper, more batshit take, like "having wild animals in any kind of captivity is unlawful imprisonment."

(you'll also get a lot more work done in regulating the exotic animal trade in the UK if you go after private owners, btw. zoos have nothing to do with how lax those laws are.)

Anyway I'm a funny cat blog about battle kitties, and the stuff I do for BB is to educate about the ecosystem of Northern England. If you want to know more about zoos, debunking misconceptions, and critiques from someone with more personal experience, go talk to @why-animals-do-the-thing!

Keep in mind though, again, they talk about American zoos, where this post was written with the UK in mind.

(and even then, England specifically. ALL UK members and also the Isle of Man have differences in their laws.)

(If anyone has other zoo education tumblr blogs in mind, especially if they are European, lmk and I'll edit this post)

On Nature Reserves

Remember how broad the legal definition of a zoo actually was? Same thing over here. A "nature reserve" in the UK is a broad, unofficial generic term for several things. It doesn't inherently involve statutory protection, either, meaning there's some situations where there's no laws to hold anyone accountable for damage

These are the "nature reserve" types relevant to my project; (NOTE: Ramsar sites, SACs, and SPAs are EU-related and honestly, I do not know how Brexit has effected them, if at all, so I won't be explaining something I don't understand.)

Local Wildlife Site (LWS) Selected via scientific survey and managed locally, connecting wildlife habitats together and keeping nature close to home. VERY important... and yet, incredibly prone to destruction because there aren't good reporting processes in place. Whenever a report comes out every few years, the Wildlife Trust says it often only gets data for 15% of all their registered sites, and 12% get destroyed in that timeframe.

Local Nature Reserve (LNR) A site that can be declared by a district or county council, if proven to have geographic, educational, biodiversity, or recreational value. The local authority manages this, BUT, the landowner can remain in control of the property and "lease" it out (and boy oh boy, landowners do some RIDICULOUS things)

National Nature Reserve (NNR) This is probably closest to what you think of when someone says "nature reserve." Designated by Natural England to protect significant habitat ranges and geographic formations, but still usually operates in tandem with private land owners who must get consent if they want to do something potentially damaging to the NNR.

Site of Special Scientific Interest (SSSI) (pronounced Triple S-I) A conservation designation for a particular place, assessed and defined by Natural England for its biological or geographic significance. SSSIs are protected areas, and often become the basis for NNRs, LNRs, Ramsar sites, SACs, SPAs, etc.

So you probably noticed that 3/4 of those needed to have the private ownership problem mentioned right in the summary, and it doesn't end there. Even fully government-managed NNRs and SSSIs work with the private sectors of forestry, tourism, and recreation.

We live under Capitalism; EVERYTHING has a profit motive, not just zoos.

I brushed over some of those factors in my Moorland Research Notes and DESPERATELY tried to stay succinct with them, but it was hard. The things that can happen to skirt around the UK's laws protecting wildlife could make an entire season of Monty Python sketches.

Protestors can angrily oppose felling silver birch (a "weed" in this context which can change the ecosystem) because it made a hike less 'pretty' and they don't understand heath management.

Management can be reluctant to ban dogs and horses for fear of backlash, even as they turn heath to sward before our eyes.

Reserves can be owned by Count Bloodsnurt who thinks crashing through the forest with a pack of dogs to exhaust an animal to death is a profitable traditional British passtime.

Or you can literally just pretend that you accidentally chased a deer for several hours and then killed it while innocently sending your baying hounds down a trail. (NOTE: I am pro-hunting, but not pro-animal cruelty.)

The Forestry Commission can slobber enthusiastically while replacing endangered wildlife habitats with non-native, invasive sitka spruce plantations, pretending most trees are equal while conveniently prioritizing profitable timber species.

I have STORIES to tell about the absolute Looney Tunes bullshit that's going on between conservationists and rich assholes who want to sell grouse hunting access, but I'll leave it at this fascinating tidbit about air guns and mannequins which are "totally, absolutely there for no nefarious reason at all, certainly not to prevent marsh harriers from nesting in an area where they also keep winding up mysteriously killed in illegal snares, no no no"

BUT. Since Nature Reserve isn't a hard defined legal concept, and any organization could get involved in local conservation in the UK, and just about anyone or anything could own one... IT'S CHESTER ZOO WITH THE STEEL CHAIR!!

They received a grant in 2021 to restore habitat to a stretch of 10 miles extending outside of their borders, working with TONS of other entities such as local government and conservation charities in the process. There's now 6,000 square meters of restored meadow, an orchard, new ponds, and maintained reedbeds, because of them.

It isn't just Chester Zoo, either. It's all over the UK. Durrel Wildlife, which runs Jersey Zoo, just acquired 18,500 acres to rewild in Perthshire. Citizen Zoo is working with the Beaver Trust to bring beavers back to London and is always looking for volunteers to help with their river projects, and the Edinburgh Zoo is equipped with gene labs being used to monitor and analyze the remaining populations of non-hybrid Scottish Wildcats.

The point being,

Nature preserves have problems too. They are not magical fairy kingdoms that you put up a fence around and then declare you Saved Nature Hooray! They need to be protected. They need to be continuously assessed. They are prone to capitalist pressures just like everything else on this hell planet. Go talk to my boy Karl he'll give you a hug about it.

"Nature Preserves" are NOT an "alternative" to zoos and vice versa. They do not do the same thing. A zoo is a center of education and wildlife research which displays exotic animals. A nature preserve is a parcel of native ecosystem. We need LOTS of nature preserves and we need them well-managed ASAP.

We could never just "replace" zoos with nature preserves, and we're nowhere near the amount of protected ecosystem space to start thinking of scaling back animals in captivity. Until King Arthur comes out of hibernation to save Britain, that's the world we live in.

An Aside

My project and my research is based on the isle of Great Britain. The more I learn about the ecosystems that are naturally found there, the more venomously I reject the old lie, "humans are a blight."

YOU are an animal. You're a big one, too. You know what the role of big animals in an ecosystem are? Change. Elephants knock over trees, wolves alter the course of rivers, bison fertilize the plains from coast-to-coast. In Great Britain, that's what hominids have done for 900,000 years, their populations ebbing and flowing with every ice age.

Early farming created the moors and grazing sheep and cattle maintain it, hosting hundreds of specialist species. Every old-growth forest has signs of ancient coppicing and pollarding, which create havens for wildlife when well-managed. Corn cockle evolved as a mimic of wheat seeds, so farmers would plant it over and over within their fields.

This garbage idea that humans are somehow "separate" from or "above" nature is poison. It's not true ANYWHERE.

It contributes to an idea that our very presence is somehow damaging to natural spaces, and to "protect" it, we have to completely leave it alone. NO! Absolutely NOT! There are places where we have to limit harvesting and foot traffic, but humans ALWAYS lived in nature.

Even the ecosystems that this mindset comes from rejects it, but this shit doesn't JUST get applied to British people who become alienated and disconnected from their surroundings to the point where they don't know what silver birch does.

It's DEADLY for the indigenous people who protect 80% of our most important ecosystems.

It's a weapon against the Maasai people, stopped from hunting or growing crops on their own land. It's violence for 9 San hunters shot at by a helicopter with a "kill poachers on-sight" policy, as one of the world's LARGEST diamond mines operates in the same motherfucking park. The Havasupai people are kept out of the Grand Canyon that they managed for generations because they might "collect too many nuts" and starve squirrels, Dukha reindeer herders suddenly get banned from chopping wood or fishing, and watch wolves decimate their animals in the absence of their herding dogs.

It's nightmare after nightmare of human displacement in the name of "conservation."

That all ties back to that mindset. This idea that nature is pure, "pristine," and should be totally untouched. There are some starting to call it Fortress Conservation.

You can't begin to understand the criticisms of modern conservation without acknowledging that we are still living under the influence of capitalism and colonialism. Those who fixate on speaking for "animals/nature/trees who don't have a voice" often seem to have no interest in the indigenous people who do.

Listen. There's no simple answer; and the solution will vary for each region.

Again, my project is within the UK, one of the most ecologically devastated areas in the world. There are bad zoos that the law allows a pass. There are incredible zoos that are vital to conservation, in and outside of the country. There's not enough nature preserves. The best ones that exist are often exploited for profit.

I hope that my silly little blog sparks an interest in a handful of people to understand more about their own local ecosystems, and teaches folks about the unique beauty even within a place as "boring" as England.

But, my straightforward statement is that I have no patience for nonconstructive, broad zoo slander that lumps together ALL of them, and open contempt for anyone who tries to sell nature preserves like a perfect, morally superior "alternative." We need them BOTH right now, and we need to acknowledge that zoos AND preserves have legal and ethical issues that aren't openly talked about.

#ALSO THAT GUIDE IVE BEEN WORKING ON IS DONE #Im just waiting for the input of the sensitivity readers bc I made a whole section on--#How ableis m might express in the different clans #And part of it became a thunder-callout post lmaooooo #Also this zoo doc has been sitting competed in my drafts for a while #All this to say that uh. I hope the strange place they visit in the upcoming se is not a zoo :J #I will hit it with a golf club if it is <3 #Leaning heavily towards the 'oh no two DEMIGODS ended up in a zoo' idea #Which is objectively funnier #And you know what else is objectively funny. When these posts break orbit and then ppl are surprised that i am a kitty cat blog #Hal. It's about Cats.#Bone Babble

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alexa-fika · 2 months

Note

I squeezed my brain so much and I hope it doesn't disappoint

Am rewatching Atla and I love toph so you wrote about her before with Smoker but can you write one with the straw hats ( Sanji 💕 ) or Mihawk or Law or anybody or you can write with all of them 🏃‍♀️

So I have two scenarios ( blind male ) age 12

1- getting captured in sabaody to be sold and getting rescued

2- almost drowning and getting saved ( sanji )

Because no one will get hurt 🙏

🐼💕~

Lost Sight ( Sanji x male!blind!child!reader)

A/N heyyy 🐼 💕 So I actually already wrote a story on the auction house on sabaody with Rayleigh so I decided to write the second one and let me tell you your age request was perfect because it fits perfectly with the canon time, because Sanji was eight when he left germa 66 and in this case if he took an infant Dokucha with him 12 years later Sanji would be 19, Aka the canon age when he made his debut BAM so smart 🐼 💕

Reader is replaced by Dokucha which means reader in Japanese

Dokucha Backround in this story: When Sanji Left Germa 66 he took along with him his then infant brother with him to protect him from their cruel family and to ensure he would not turn out like them, especially knowing what kind of fate would await a blind Vinsmoke

Dividers by @/saradika

“Dokucha, be careful; the waves are high, so the ship is not very steady right now,” Sanji called, taking another puff from his cigarette, feeling the nicotine enter his system

“Don’t Worry Sanji! I know the Going Merry like the back of my hand!” the blind boy exclaimed in return

"Even if you know the ship well, it's the ocean that's unstable” he quipped back as smoke exhaled from his lips with gusto, filling the surrounding air with a thick cloud as he spoke

“Just be careful.”

He smiles, slowly approaching Sanji and hugging him

“I will”

Dokucha’s embrace was sudden and unexpected but was well-received. As he took another drag, Dokusha's grip tightened around him.

“Hey, Hey Sanji, can you teach me another recipe later? I promise to be more careful this time.”

The chef smiled gently at the boy as he released himself from the hug, still clutching tightly onto his cigarette

“All right, sure. But you'll have to be careful, okay? No more burning the kitchen down. And remember the Cardinal rule in this kitchen.”

“Don’t let Uncle Luffy Unsupervised, I know!”

“Exactly.” Sanji grinned as he flicked the remnants of his cigarette, turning his gaze to the horizon

“Now, let's try to make this day less eventful, huh?”

Dokucha grinned, taking hold of the ship’s walls to guide their way along their adventure; however, despite how Dokucha had memorized the Ship’s ins and outs, even he could not keep up with the ever-going destruction and fixing that occurred with the ship after every adventure. As such, he had no way of knowing that that part of the wall had recently been amended poorly; after receiving a cannonball, the crew did the quickest repair they could, and that was not always the best repair.

With just a little bit of weight, the repaired wall fell under the boy’s weight, taking him off balance and causing him to fall along with the wooden boards that previously covered the hole

“Sanji!” They cry as they fall

With no foothold or support to rely on, not even his kenbunshoku could help him, leaving the boy truly blind as the waves mercilessly crashed against him, sputtering the water out. The only thing they could do was to stay afloat

With all his available senses overwhelmed by the current danger, they were unaware of the sound of a splash nearby and someone taking hold of them; they were unaware of the screams for his name coming from a familiar voice

The cold water dulled Dokusha's senses, and he was caught entirely by surprise when he was suddenly yanked out of the ocean. His first instinct was to cling to anything he could touch, but he couldn't feel anything except the person who had pulled him up and his body, now shivering from the cold.

The shouts in the distance gradually became clearer, getting louder as they seemed to come closer.

“Dokucha! Dokucha! Get Chopper here now!”

“Sanji?”

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s okay.”

“I'm sorry. Are you okay?”

“You idiot, you were the one that fell; why are you asking me?”

“You had to jump in after me, even after you warned me to be careful.”

“Well, I wasn’t just going to let you drown, you dunce.”

“So mean.”

“So reckless.”

“I guess I just ‘lost sight’ of my way.”

The chef sighed, shaking his head before responding

"You’re an idiot, you know that?."

They chuckle at his brother, adrenaline still flowing through his body from the previous events

The chef can't hold in his laughter, smiling as well

"Good thing you have me around to take care of you."

“Yeah, it is,” he said, leaning closet to him and embracing him

So is it a cook? What are we thinking? Is it okay 🐼 💕?

Taglist:

@imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

#sanji #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fluff #one piece x child!reader #sanji x child!reader #straw hat sanji #with: sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #op sanji #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #one piece x male reader #one piece x masc reader

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chestharrington · 2 years

Text

Adult Education || Part Two

Summary: Weeks into your newfound routine with Steve, you decide to shake things up a bit. It'll be fun and casual, right?

Couple: Steve Harrington x AFAB!Reader (GN Pronouns)

Category: Smut/Fluff

Content Warning: graphic smut, slight voyeurism, fingering, handjobs, awkward depictions of visiting a sex shop, slight drug use

Word Count: 7.5k

Requests: Open!

Robin was extremely tired of your bullshit. Both of you. The giggly calls to Family Video— “Hey Robin! Can you put Steve on the phone?”— and the way neither of you was very subtle about your “secret” meetups. She wasn’t even sure they were supposed to be secret anymore.

And Steve was almost worse. He’d spilled everything to Robin, and he still tried to act like what was happening between the two of you “wasn’t a big deal.” Which was dumb, because it very clearly was to him.

And you… she couldn’t quite read you. Sure, you seemed to like whatever was going on between the two of you, or you wouldn’t have giggly, super long phone calls with Steve on the days you weren’t following him around like a lost puppy. Those days were maybe the most insufferable. The inside jokes, the banter. She just wanted to know if you two were an item so she could stop feeling so left out.

She swirled a fork through her lunch, which had been poorly reheated over break. With a glance towards Steve, whose head was glumly rested in his hands, she spoke up. “No call from your sweetie pie?” She teased.

“Nah,” Steve sighed, before catching Robin’s underlying meaning. He furrowed his brows, annoyed. “Don’t say anything.”

“I will be saying something, Harrington, because I am sick of you two dancing around your obvious attraction to one another!” She said finally, pushing her lunch away. “How do you think this is all gonna turn out, smart guy?”

He sighed, and she could tell he was thinking about it— really thinking about it. It almost made her feel bad for pressing the matter.

“What if this is the closest I’ll ever get to being with them?” He finally asked with an alarming amount of earnestness. Robin sighed, her lips turning down into a frown. Oh, Steve. “Like, I could technically tell them ‘Hey, by the way, I want to kiss you and take you out on dates and make sweet, sweet love to you pretty much every waking moment,’ but I could scare them away. I could lose them so easily.” He sighed, looking like he wished he could shove all those words right back inside. “Anyways, if this is the only way I can be with them, I’ll take it.”

Robin sighed. “You’re selling yourself short, Steven. Ten bucks says when they walk in this door later today, they go straight to you.”

———

You walked into the video store like you belonged there, much to Keith’s chagrin.

“No.” The word escaped him firmly. “No, you’re leaving. You can’t just treat this store like some sort of hang-out spot.”

You pouted, leaning against the doorframe. “Keith,” you whined. “C’mon, man, I’m here for an actual rental this time.” He looked at you pointedly, so you made a show of heading for the science fiction section. “See! A New Hope.” You held it up and approached the counter. “That’s all I wanted.”

He looked at you skeptically, brow raised. “And, uh, I wanted to simply invite Robin and Steve to join in on my family movie night, but, uh, I can always go to Video Village and rent from there.” You raised a brow, testing him, and he sighed.

“They’re on break out back. Rent first, talk after.”

You sighed, slapping a few bills on the counter. He seemed to take his sweet time counting the money and distributing change. You tapped your foot impatiently until he finally slid the VHS and change over the counter. “Alright, knock yourself out.”

You grinned, grabbed your tape, and dashed past him into the back rooms where the rear exit was. As soon as the heavy door slammed open, you heard panicked coughing and whispered curses. You grinned, shutting the door behind you.

“It’s not Keith, don’t worry,” you said, wrinkling your nose at the very pungent smell of pot. “Knock yourselves out.” Steve pulled you into his side, taking a quick hit before passing the joint to Robin. He turned his head to blow out the smoke, then looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. “Hey,” he said with a dopey grin. “Took you long enough.”

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I’m house-sitting for the nice little old couple next door. And I’m a total professional, so I had to water a few plants and get some mail before I could come see my favorite people.”

Robin coughed unceremoniously, fanning the air around her face. “Keith see you?” She took a long pull and exhaled with a contented sigh, too stoned to care if Keith knew they were smoking in the alleyway.

“Yeah,” you replied with an eye roll. “Weird fucker hates me. I had to rent a tape or I wouldn’t have been allowed in.” You held up the VHS to drive home your point and she giggled.

“Aww, you rented Star Wars to see me?” Steve said with a wide smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with an eye roll. “Don’t let it get to your head.” Your cheeks felt warm as both Robin and Steve’s gazes fixed on you, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

You felt your cheeks burn hotter as you mumbled the reason you really showed up. “Oh, and, uh, my parents want to invite you both for dinner and a movie tomorrow, so, like… come over after you get off, okay?”

The words came out rushed and jumbled. There were only so many times you could make excuses about sleeping over at Robin’s or bring up something funny Steve had said before your parents wanted to insert themselves in the middle. The offer to host them seemed less like a friendly invitation and more like an order.

“Sweet!” Robin said with a giddy smile. “Your parents’ cooking is bomb. Like, that time I came over to study and your dad made us omelets? Oh my god, is he making omelets again?”

“I think it’s, uh, pasta tomorrow,” you replied, which seemed to please Robin more, if possible. You turned to Steve with a furrow in your brows, watching him take a pull from the joint with keen fascination. He had a pretty mouth. He caught you looking after he’d exhaled, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile.

You stammered. “Is— uh— is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, yeah sounds good.” His gaze was intense. No breaking eye contact, no shifting his eyes, just… looking at you. “Is that good for you?”

“The pasta?” You asked with a tilt of your head. He nodded. “Yeah, Steve, pasta’s good for me too.” He smiled wide before pressing his lips to the top of your head. He was so warm, not just physically, which was usually true, but in his entire being. You just felt good when you were with him.

Robin’s watch beeped loudly and she sighed, taking the joint back from Steve so she could have the last hit. “Break’s over dingus. I’ll see ya inside.” She dropped it on the ground and stubbed it out with her oxfords before reaching in her bag and spraying some sort of cheap perfume all over herself. You frowned at the overwhelming smell of what could’ve been your nana’s old perfume wafting your direction as she left.

Alone with Steve, you felt the intensity of his closeness practically double. “Uh, I had a good time last night,” you said softly. “I think that old guy was right. Pleasure Olympics might just be in my top three.”

Steve laughed so hard his shoulders shook and you smiled up at him. “God. Never bring up that old guy ever again. What’s the point of guys that old watching porn? Half the time their dicks don’t work anyway.”

You groaned, nudging him with your shoulder. “Ew, Steve. You should have some empathy. That could totally be you someday.”

He shook his head incredibly insistently, like he’d seen into the future already. “No, because my dick is going to work forever, obviously.” He wrinkled his nose at his own words like he wished he could take them back immediately. “On that note, I need to go act sober and rent some movies to people.”

You grabbed his arm before he turned to go, keeping him near you. “Come over after your shift? I wanna check this place out and I’m too nervous to go alone.”

He nodded quickly, a smile spreading across his features. “Yes!” He said eagerly. He coughed, cleared his throat, and amended his tone. “I mean— Yeah, okay. Sounds good, I’ll, uh… I’ll pick you up?”

You nodded, chewing your lip to contain your excitement. “Yeah, it’s a date, Stevie. You’ll love it, I promise.”

He looked like he wanted to melt as he nodded, smiling sweetly down at you. “I uh…” He trailed off, blinking a few times. With one hand, he gestured vaguely to the metal back door of Family Video. “Videotapes.”

You giggled, trying your best to fight a grin as you nodded. “Yep. Go get ‘em big guy. I’ll see you later, alright?”

He nodded, turned directly into the door, swore under his breath, and slipped back inside.

———

At precisely three fifteen in the afternoon, Steve was outside of your house, practically vibrating in his seat with anticipation. He watched you walk out the front door, turn to wave to your father, who was seeing you off, and hurry towards the passenger seat.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greeted as you slid into the car, smiling over at him. “Ready to go?”

“I, uh, I don’t even know where we’re going,” he said, almost nervously.

You patted his arm and grinned. “Get on the highway going eastbound and take the third exit, alright? Trust me on this.” He nodded and peeled off, his tires screeching against the suburban asphalt. You sighed, leaning back against the seat. His car always smelled like his cologne, and you happily took a deep breath as you turned to look at him.

He didn’t notice for a while, until he caught you out of the corner of his eye. At a stop sign, he furrowed his brows. “What is it?”

You shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve liked hanging with you lately, that’s all.”

“Me too,” he replied. “Like, we were friends before and that was cool and everything, but now—“ He was cut off by the car behind him honking repeatedly, urging him to just go already. “Shit.”

You looked at him expectantly. “But now…?” You trailed off, hoping he’d pick up where he left off.

“I guess now things are just better.” You nodded, turned on the stereo, and put your feet on the dash.

Better was the perfect way to describe it. You were still both… you, but you were more than that. Never in your entire life had you felt more comfortable being vulnerable with someone. You liked that every free moment, you were both jumping at the chance to be together.

How long had it been since you’d had that?

The rest of the car ride was brief— your destination wasn’t exactly far. You told him when to exit, and directed him into the parking lot. He swallowed as he parked, looking up at the sign that placed a shadow on his car.

Lion’s Den: XXX Movies, Toys for Lovers, And More!

“No,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. “I’m not… no way.”

You put on your prettiest smile and leaned across the center console. “C’mon, Steve, I told you to trust me, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but… I mean, what if someone recognizes me inside?” His pretty brown eyes were wide, his lips turned into a nervous frown. You wanted to just squeeze his face with your hand, for some reason. You decided not to think about that too much.

“We’re three exits outside of Hawkins, and if anyone recognizes you, they’ll have to explain why they’re here too, right?” You smiled victoriously. “Can’t call you out for being a pervert when they’re one themselves.”

“What did you need here again?” He asked as he got out of the car, finding it incredibly impossible to tell you no.

You shrugged, slamming the car door. “Just felt like exploring with my best pal, Steve Harrington. Who knows, we might find something fun.”

He walked right on your heels as you entered the store, waving an awkward greeting to the man behind the counter as he followed you within. The walls were lined with sexy everything. Lingerie, books, movies, toys. You didn’t really know where to start.

“Lingerie first?” You asked, nodding towards the racks and racks of lace, velvet, and silk. He nodded wordlessly, his cheeks a burning red. You had to chew on your lip to keep from laughing— it was just too adorable.

He stood respectfully beside you as you flipped through the rack, holding up the occasional teddy or babydoll gown for his appraisal. He just blinked a few times, opened and closed his mouth, then nodded. It was like that for each and everything you showed him.

“Steve, you’re not really being a big help,” you chided with a playful grin.

“I can hardly think right now,” he mumbled, running his fingers over white silk on the rack. It felt so soft that he wanted to buy it for you then and there just so he could imagine you wearing it. “Is it hot in here?” He tugged at his collar and cleared his throat a few times. “I’m really hot right now.”

“Hey, breathe, okay?” You said, holding onto his arm. He really was burning up under your touch. “No one else is here except the guy behind the counter, and I’m sure he’s seen crazier stuff than two twenty-somethings browsing the wares.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I can be cool about this.” He swallowed as you turned back to the shelves and grabbed a pale blue babydoll with lace around the edges. You turned to face him and held it up to yourself, raising a brow.

“What do you think?”

He wanted to pass out. He could imagine you in it so easily— how the silk would feel on your skin, the way the lace would fall around your thighs and tits. He could especially imagine peeling it off of you, how warm it would be from touching you. He felt his dick twitch, trapped uncomfortably in his tight jeans. God, he wished he’d had some sort of notice so he could’ve worn some sweats or something. Or, actually, that probably would’ve been worse for him.

“I think you should buy that one,” he said quickly. He grabbed the soft white teddy and pushed it towards you. “And this one too.” You smiled prettily up at him, and he wanted to propose marriage or eternal love on the spot. He’d follow you anywhere— into certain danger, into hell, or even into a sleazy sex shop.

And then came the toys. His mouth felt dry as he watched you peering at the shelves, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips. Some of them were big… and lifelike. You took one in your hands and he wanted to whimper. Your painted nails wrapped around the silicon, not even making it all the way around. Your hand looked so fucking small.

And you giggled, a bright, pretty sound and he wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. Become one more stain that the store’s patrons had left. “This is ridiculous,” you muttered, wielding it like a gun toward him. He made himself laugh, but it was clearly forced. You replaced it on the shelf and went back to browsing.

“Yeah, super ridiculous,” he said, his mouth feeling even drier. They really should’ve had water stations around places like this. “Uh, what about that one?” He pointed towards the top shelf and you laughed, reaching on your tiptoes to bring it down.

“Steve,” you said with disbelief. “This would kill me.”

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed. “No, that’s literally just like mine and I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Stevie, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but your dick is not the size of my forearm,” you said. You placed the toy against yourself and the tip hit above your navel. “See. That wouldn’t even feel good.” You hopped to place it right back on the shelf and began perusing again.

He wanted to scoff, or something and defend his ego, but it was useless. You’d literally seen what he was packing, and while you were impressed, you weren’t a liar. You gasped victoriously and turned to face him, holding a smaller, but still above-average dildo.

“This is about where you’re at, right?” You asked rhetorically. Because, y’know… you knew. You held it right where you’d held the other and nodded approvingly. “See, this isn’t going to bruise my organs or anything, but it would still feel good.”

Steve nodded, biting down on his tongue until he feared he would bleed. There was no way you didn’t realize what you were doing. “So that’s like… the ideal?”

You looked at him pointedly. “Don’t fish for compliments, Stevie,” you said as you brought the box for that toy down, turning it over in your hands. “Anyways, I think I might actually buy this one.” You paused, meeting his gaze curiously. “That’s not weird or anything, right? Since I kind of compared this one to you.”

He swallowed. He wanted to say that it wasn’t weird and that actually made him want you to buy it more and that he wanted to watch you use it. But instead, he just shook his head. “Not weird,” he said weakly. That was the best he could do.

You smiled, holding your wares in your arms as you continued to browse. He followed you closely, placing his chin on top of your head when you came to a stop at some of the tapes.

“See anything you like, Steve?” You asked, turning your head to peer back at him.

Yes. Yes. You’re literally right in front of me. He didn’t know what to say or how to explain that he was so hard he couldn’t even focus on the VHS tapes, despite them having tons of naked girls on the cover. All he could think about was you.

The door swung open, startling him, and he pressed himself into you, trying to hide his obvious boner from the new shoppers. You froze, unable to ignore the feeling of him hard against your back.

Oh. It wasn’t like you weren’t hoping it would happen, but you figured he might be able to contain himself until you were in the car so you could park somewhere and get off together. But he was desperate behind you, a shaky moan escaping him as you shifted where you stood.

“Steve,” you said softly, covering his hands where they gripped your hips. “If you trust me, I’ll take care of you.”

“Okay,” he replied, his voice weak in the back of his throat.

You shoved the toy and lingerie onto a shelf that you completely intended to return to later and grabbed his hand, guiding him into the back of the store. In the hall by the bathrooms, there was another room, completely dark and lined with booths.

“What are we—?” He was cut off by you opening the door and nodding him inside. It was like a cheap school bathroom stall, except there was a TV that took quarters. “Oh.”

“Got change?” You asked, patting his wallet in his pocket. He was so lucky that he tucked himself to the other side or he might have cum then and there. He nodded, grabbing his wallet nervously as he took out at least two dollars worth of quarters to feed into the machine. “Alright, pick your movie, Stevie.”

Your hands slipped under his shirt, feeling the hot skin beneath, tracing each dip and curve along his abdomen and sides. He gave a shaky breath. With eager hands, he pressed a random button. He didn’t give a shit about dirty movies when you had your hands on his body.

Moans filled the small space as the movie clips played, but you took your time feeling him. Your fingers brushed over his chest, nails combing through the thatch of hair there. You sighed contentedly, breath hot against his back.

“This okay?” You asked softly, moving your hands back down his body. “I know it’s against our rules, but—

“Fuck, fuck, it’s okay. It’s so okay,” he gasped, his hands balled into fists, pressed above his head on the wall to keep him upright and from crumbling beneath your touch.

A string of curses escaped his lips as your fingers found his belt and made quick work of it. The buckle jingled as it slipped free of one of the loops, forgotten as you unbuttoned and unzipped him.

He was warm beneath your touch, almost on fire. You pushed his briefs down just enough to free his cock, relishing in the gratified moan he released as you took him into your hand.

You stood on your tiptoes, nuzzling against his neck to press a soft kiss there. His skin tasted of sweat and cologne. “This feel okay?” You asked, slicking up his length with the precum that was practically leaking from him. He nodded, his breath heavy and coming in pants. “Good. I want it to feel good for you Stevie.”

Your free hand wandered beneath his shirt, nails raking along warm, damp skin. You would be lying if you said you weren’t hot yourself— sweat beading at the back of your neck.

He thrust into your hand, desperate and needy. You soothed him with a kiss to the back of his neck, whispering against his skin. “Shhh… I’ve got you.” You pressed another open-mouthed kiss to his neck, letting your teeth graze him. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

He cried out as your thumb swept across the head of his dick, not even caring if anyone else was listening despite feeling so shy earlier. You were good. So good that he wanted to simultaneously thank and kill whoever you’d touched before to be so fucking good at jerking him off.

This was Steve Harrington, king of the hook-up, founder of skull rock— and he was terrified he was going to cum after hardly any action at all. He just wanted you so bad. The mere act of you touching him set every cell in his body aflame.

“You’re so good, Steve,” you said softly, remembering how he’d reacted to your praise that first night. Now was as good a time as any to put that detail to the test. “So big, can barely fit my hand around you. See how little my hand is compared to your cock?”

He swore breathily. He’d never heard you talk like that once.

“So big and so pretty for me. The prettiest guy I’ve ever seen.” You pressed another kiss to his neck. “Cum for me, Stevie. I wanna feel you cum while I’m touching you.

He was done for. With a string of moans, he came hard, ropes of pearly white painting the walls of the booth. It was gross if you thought about it, but you were too hung up on his pretty moans and the feel of him twitching in your hands to care. He thrust shallowly into your grip as you guided him through his finish, groaning at the way you squeezed him slightly before letting go.

“God, that was hot,” you said with a grin, meeting his gaze as he turned around, blushing deeply as he tucked himself back into his pants. “Was that all okay?”

He nodded, chest still heaving. “It was great.”

You grinned. “Great,” you echoed. “I should go clean up.” You held up your hand, glazed with his cum, and he grimaced, clearly apologetic.

“God, I’m sorry, that’s—“

“Steve, it’s fine. I told you I thought it was hot, and I wasn’t kidding,” you said firmly. “Stay here while I clean up, then we’ll do our walk of shame together.” You paused, glancing around the booth. “Actually, you might want to wash your hands too.”

———

Back on the highway, Steve’s knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. You toyed with the plastic handles on the little black bag in your lap, the crinkling sound drowning out Wham on the radio.

“Where are we gonna park?” Steve asked suddenly, turning to glance in your direction.

“Park?” You asked, a furrow between your brows. “Why are we parking?”

An awkward laugh slipped past his lips. “Uh, because you didn’t cum.” His expression was earnest— the sweetest puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen. It was sweet that he wanted you to experience as much pleasure as you did. But your silence on the matter made his cheeks turn pink with sheepishness. “You bought that fake dick so I thought you wanted to… I dunno… use it, I guess?”

At his words, your mouth dropped open in realization. “Oh,” you replied. An uncomfortable laugh escaped you. “No… Stevie, I’m not going to fuck myself with a sex toy in your car.”

“Oh… I mean… yeah that, uh, makes sense.” He paused. “Do you want to like… fuck yourself with it somewhere else? I think there’s a blanket in my trunk if you want to go to Skull Rock, or—“

You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t want a public indecency charge.”

He nodded, trying to stay nonchalant. “Yeah. Duh. Of course.” He set his mouth in a firm line, and you figured it was his way of stopping himself from saying anything else. “Yeah, just forget I asked.”

You sighed as he turned up the radio, humming along to the Beastie Boys. It was obvious that he was dejected from the way his brows furrowed, the corners of his mouth twitching downward.

“It wasn’t a no, Steve,” you said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s a ‘not in public.’”

He perked up, eyes wide with surprise as he met your gaze, taking in the sight of your growing smile. “It’s— It’s not a no?”

You shook your head firmly. “Can you swing by mine tonight? Late?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem.”

———

Steve parked in front of your neighbor’s house, knowing that they were gone and wouldn’t mind. There was a skip in his step as he made his way along the lawn, already seeing dim light glowing from your window. He stopped just shy of the glass, peering in at the sight of you standing in front of the mirror, running your hands along your body. Blue silk covered your skin, the lace hem stopping just barely below your ass.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched your hands wander over your tits, nails dimpling skin and lace. You smiled at your own reflection, then slipped the straps off, allowing the gown to pool at your feet.

“Holy shit.” The words slipped out without him actually meaning to say them as he looked at your naked body in the dim lamplight. He felt his length twitch with need, desire stirring within.

The curves of your body twisted as you stretched, arms reaching above your head, elongating your spine. The fall of your shoulders told him you had sighed as you turned, picking up the white silk teddy he’d chosen from where it laid against the bed.

If anyone were to walk by, they would’ve thought he was a peeping tom or something. Fuck. That’s exactly what he was doing.

You slipped on the teddy slowly, observing your body from each side with a furrow in your brow. Your hands smoothed out the fabric carefully, and he swallowed hard.

The white fabric was thin and skimpy— he could see everything he wanted to through it. And even though you were just naked, the sight of you in sheer lingerie was even more erotic.

You smiled at your reflection before you turned, laying down on the bed, your knee bent just slightly. The lamplight cast a pretty glow over your skin as you tossed your head back, your hands wandering along your breasts, then between your legs.

His cock pulsed in his jeans, uncomfortably tight for the second time that day, all because of you. He couldn’t help but let his hands brush over the obvious bulge he was sporting. A shaky groan escaped him before he thought better of it. You paused, but seemed to brush off the noise as the wind.

He couldn’t help himself. Watching you through the glass— the unhurried, lazy way you sought pleasure—was enough to make him feel like a live wire. He rubbed his denim-clad length, swallowing as you threw your head back against the pillows, arching your back slightly. He squeezed, the pressure so good but not near enough.

He popped the button of his jeans, unzipping just enough to fit his hand. He moaned at the feel of his hand around his cock, chest heaving with restraint. You sat up suddenly at the noise, turning to the window.

“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly zipping and adjusting his pants. “Shit.”

“Stevie?” Your voice was muffled by the glass, but he made it out clear as day. You hopped off the bed and leaned against the sill, the silk blousing enough that he could see straight through to your tits. He swallowed hard, tearing his gaze from the fucking incredible sight to meet your eyes. “You been there long?”

You made quick work of the window, tugging it up to allow him in. He peered at you from outside, his eyes wide and sheepish. “Uh, no,” he said quickly. “Not long.”

You grinned, nodding for him to come inside. “Alright, pervert,” you teased. “Get in here quick before someone calls the cops.”

He practically leaped over the window-sill, landing with a soft thud on your carpeted floor. You laughed at his eagerness and tugged the window back down, drawing the curtains quickly.

“So…” you said, settling back on the bed, lying on your side to face him. “Any reason you stayed out there spying instead of coming inside?”

His face fell, a frown pulling at his lips. “You’re right. It was wrong and gross of me to just stand out there and watch you, but you just looked so pretty trying on your new stuff, and then you were on the bed and your hands started moving and—“

“Were you touching yourself?” You asked, cocking your head to the side. “While you were peeping through my windows, that is.”

He made a soft noise, right in the back of his throat, something between a whimper and a whine. “Yeah. Fuck, that was so wrong of me to do. I’m really sorry.”

“Steve, I’m fucking with you,” you said quickly, worried he might actually take it to heart. “I heard your car door slam, so I put on a little show.”

He groaned, leaning his head back until it banged on the window-sill. “You’re such an asshole.” He shook his head and looked at you expectantly. “So are you going to keep going, or not?”

A surprised laugh escaped you at his tone, and you couldn’t help but relish in his desire. In the past few weeks, your confidence had skyrocketed— you had never felt more confident in your own skin until Steve treated you like something worth worshipping.

With a wink in his direction, you turned onto your back, spreading your legs slightly to fit your hand. His eyes followed your hands, but your eyes were glued on him. Gently, you let your hands wander along the silk, dancing along each dip and curve in your figure.

“Tell me what to do,” you said, meeting his darkened gaze. He swallowed, eyes trailing up and down your body.

It was a few moments before he spoke up, wetting his lips with his tongue before he finally told you what he wanted. “Take your clothes off,” he said finally, his voice more confident and firm than you expected. Heat burned in your cheeks at the ferocity of his gaze, the desire within it. You moved to brush the straps off your shoulders, but he shook his head. “Not like that. Slow.”

A shiver ran through you, and you nodded, standing from the bed to remove it properly. Slowly, you brushed the first strap off your shoulder, letting it fall to your elbow, exposing your breast. Already puckered from the cool air through the thin fabric, it felt sensitive so bare.

Steve sat forward as you let the second strap fall, leaving you naked from the waist up. A low noise came from the back of his throat, and you gave a shaky exhale. You turned, facing away from him as you brought your hands to the waistband, bending as you dragged the fabric to the floor, where it pooled at your feet.

“Fuck. You’re incredible,” he said as you turned back around, crossing your arms across your belly sheepishly. “Back on the bed now. I wanna watch you touch yourself.”

“Jesus, okay,” you said softly, lying back against your pillows. “Do you want to get up here? Have a closer look?”

It was like asking a fish if it wanted to swim. Or a dog if it wanted the juiciest, most expensive steak in the world. He simply had no choice in the matter— every single one of his cells was screaming yes. He sat at the foot of your bed, watching you keenly as your hands began to trace along your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

A shaky sigh escaped you as your fingertips brushed along your thighs, making you part them slightly to fit your hand. At the first brush of your fingers against your clit, you gasped, your breath coming in shaky bursts.

You’d been pent up since the sex shop, since you’d actually touched Steve. And having him just watch while you pleasured yourself was so much more intense than anything you’d done with him before.

It would be stupid to deny that you cared about him anymore— it was just a fact of your existence, same as your eye color or the shade of your hair. You liked him. Maybe even loved him, if you really thought about it. He was simply your favorite person in the world.

“You can do more than that,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking into a grin. You swallowed hard, fingers dipping towards your center. “Tell me what you’re feeling, sweetheart.”

“I’m so wet,” you gasped, closing your eyes as your head fell back against the pillow. It was too intense to keep looking at him, not with everything you were feeling then. “Just wanna be filled up so bad.”

A soft hum escaped him, making your cheeks heat up. “With what?”

“Fingers.” You barely managed the two syllables as you pushed two digits into yourself, a choked sob escaping your lips as you fucked yourself with them deeper.

“You sure?” He asked, and you could almost hear his smug grin. You were impossibly wet, you could hear the obscene noise of your fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. And, god, you needed more. “‘Cause if you want something I can go get it.”

Oh. Smug bastard. You swallowed down your pride and nodded, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. “Please,” you said simply, cheeks burning.

He raised a brow, glancing around your room. “Want something specific… or dealer’s choice? I’ve got my eye on a pretty sick-looking candle on your dresser. Like from Debbie Does Dallas. You remember that one from two weeks ago, don’t you?”

You kicked him lightly with your foot as he burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him smiling. God, you had it bad. “Go get the toy dipshit,” you said, with a pointed look. “It’s in the back of my underwear drawer.”

He grinned victoriously, hopping from the bed to rifle through your dresser while you watched. While he snooped, you continued to pump your fingers in and out of yourself slowly, relishing in the sensation of being filled, even if it wasn’t as much as you wanted. He held up a pair of pink panties with an embroidered cherry on the front grinning wildly.

“These are cute,” he said as he tucked them into his back pocket. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t ignore the heat that burned in your belly at the thought of him having them. A soft, aha, sounded from his lips and he turned, holding the dildo casually in his grip.

Your mouth practically watered at the sight, your cunt spamming around your fingers, desperate for more. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, raising a brow. You nodded and he smirked. “Yeah? The same toy you compared to my dick?” You nodded again, chewing on your lip.

He sat back on the bed, not handing over the toy just yet. “You gonna think about me while you use it?” He looked at you curiously, and you felt the line of questioning tipping further away from just dirty talk.

“Yeah,” you said weakly. “I’m gonna think about you, Stevie. Please let me have it.”

His face lit up at your words, eyes brightening with the telltale signs of an idea forming. You felt your breath shudder in anticipation.

“I’ll let you have it,” he said plainly. “I’ll give it to you if you’re good and let me.”

Wait… you sat up on your elbows, meeting his gaze with wide eyes. “You want to… use it on me?” You swallowed. Hard. He nodded and your heart skipped enough beats to make you genuinely concerned. “O-okay.”

“You sure?” He asked, his voice softer.

“Mhmm,” you replied, offering a small smile. “I trust you.” You paused, feeling suddenly shy. “How are we gonna do this?”

He paused, brows furrowing as he considered his options. God, you wanted to know every thought running through his head. “I’ll sit behind you, you lean back on my chest, that way I can just reach around and… y’know.”

You nodded, sitting up so he could slide into place behind him. He settled comfortably behind you, wrapping one arm around your belly to ease you against him. It felt strange to be so naked while he was fully dressed, but not enough to really mind. You laid back against him, spreading your legs to allow him access.

Knowing him, you figured he’d just go in with the dildo and just ram you with it a few times, but you were sorely mistaken. The toy was discarded to the side for the moment, his fingers moving between your legs to rub your clit, eliciting contented moans from you.

Your hips buck into the sensation, grinding in thoughtless, subconscious movements to get more pressure out of his touch. His tongue clicked, chiding you for your impatience, but he didn’t do anything to stop you. You figured he liked knowing you wanted more.

“What fingers do you use when you touch yourself,” he asked, breath warm against your ear.

“Huh?” You asked, almost breathless, too riled up to think clearly.

He held up his hand, wiggling his fingers jokingly for a moment. “Ring-middle, or pointer-middle?” He asked, flexing them in turn. “I have a preference, I just wanna see if you do too.”

Smug fucker. “I don’t really think about it,” you answered honestly. “Ring-middle, I think.”

“Excellent choice,” he said, and you could practically hear his grin. You sighed, leaning further back against him as his hand settled back between your legs. Your cunt was practically pulsing as he let his fingers wander, dipping into the wetness pooled at your entrance before returning to your clit, circling gently. “You want my fingers?”

You nodded wordlessly, yeah thrown back against his shoulders as he teased your entrance, making you whimper. His lack of action told you one thing— he wanted you to say it. “Please, Steve,” you practically whined. “I want your fingers so bad.”

You hadn’t ever really thought about how his hands would feel until that moment, when his middle finger breached your entrance and pushed deep within you. It felt like heaven, but you needed more. You rocked against his fingers, encouraging him deeper, or to move, or to use one more. You didn’t really know what you wanted, just that you wanted something.

“So fucking needy,” he mumbled against your hair. “It’s cute.”

“Sh-shut up,” you said, voice catching as he pushed another finger within you. Ring-middle. Fucking incredible choice. The sounds his fingers made as they fucked you were obscene. You hadn’t even known your body could do what he was making it do. “I want more, Stevie. Please.”

“Yeah?” He asked, removing his soaked fingers to toy with your clit. “You want me to fuck you with the fake dick you bought? Hm?”

“Steve,” you said, feeling embarrassed for no discernible reason. He laughed lightly into your hair and you burned inside. “Steve I want you to fuck me with it so bad. I really want it.”

“Yeah? You think it’s gonna feel like I would?” He asked, letting the toy run along your slit so it was coated in your wetness. Each brush of the silicon against your clit made you gasp.

“Almost,” you said, exhaling a shaky breath as he pushed the toy in barely an inch. “It won’t feel as good.”

“No, it won’t,” he said, using his other hand to tease your clit as he pushed the toy in slowly, so you felt each and every passing inch. “But it’ll feel good for now, won’t it?”

As soon as the toy bottomed out, filling you completely, you gasped, nodding desperately. “Yes. It feels so good.”

“Yeah?” His teeth grazed your ear as he spoke, his words low as he fucked you with the toy. “You like feeling stuffed with cock, hm? Does it feel good to be so full?” You nodded, beyond words at that point. His fingers moved faster on your clit as he thrust the dildo shallowly, just like you needed. You felt deliciously full, and each touch on your clit made your veins feel like fire.

“Fuck,” you gasped, nails clinging to his thighs on either side of you. “Fuck, Steve, I’m so close. You’re gonna make me cum. Please make me cum. I want it so bad.”

He kept up the same rhythm, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. You felt like crying from the pleasure that he so easily drew out of you, and he was touching you like he was fluent in the language your body spoke. You came suddenly, crying out a mix of obscenities and his name, grinding against the toy and his fingers, desperate for more of that delicious feeling.

The feeling of him slipping the toy from your cunt was strange— you suddenly felt so incomplete. You felt sensitive all over to the slightest touch, shivering as the chill in the room suddenly became apparent.

“That was—“ You sighed happily, feeling drowsy and sated with the pleasure coursing through you. “So good. Never understood a reputation more than in this moment.” Your eyes were heavy as you blinked, turning to face him.

You wanted to press your lips to his, kiss him until you were desperate for breath. You shivered. “Can you grab me pajamas?” You asked softly. He nodded, slipping from behind you to rifle through your dresser again.

He turned, holding up a blue button-up pajama set for your appraisal. When you nodded, he shut the drawer and returned, grabbing the cherry print panties he’d stashed earlier.

“See, I’m not a pervert, I just think ahead,” he said with a grin. You slipped them on and let him help you pull the pajama shirt over your head.

“I still kind of think you’re a pervert, Steve,” you replied as you awkwardly tugged on the pajama pants. You turned to face him, peering down at the bulge in his jeans. “You, uh, want some help with that?”

He brushed you off with a wave of his hand, pulling off his shirt and jeans before climbing into bed. “Nah, you’re tired. Just c’mere.”

You didn’t question Steve wanting to stay the night. You didn’t find it presumptuous or overbearing. The sight of Steve looking up at you from your quilted blankets, his brown eyes so inviting, made your heart melt. You grinned and slipped beneath the covers, reaching over to turn off the lamp before you cuddled against his side.

He was warm, and he was in your bed. And you were almost entirely certain you loved him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x reader #my writing

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