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#you’re really too sweet for sticking around
rowanswriting · 2 days
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ROOOOWWWWWWW
REQUESTS ARE OPEN YOU SAY???
Self indulgent because I’m that bitch.
Maybe shy/ditsy reader (cause I love her) who is like so innocent and quiet out in public and in private is the neediest horniest depraved little slut for her man (obvs can be gender neutral) with either Steve or Eddie, or steddie x reader whatever your heart desires.
I HOPE THIS ISNT A SHIT REQUEST ITS TWO AM AND IM TIRED
- hellfiremunsonn (Lillie) 🩷
Freak Like Me - E.M.
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thank you so much for the request lovey! I hope this is everything you envisioned! @hellfiremunsonn ily! 🫶🏽
Word count- 1.3K
Warnings - pussy slapping, dirty talk, p in v sex, female masturbation (Eddie helps), Eddie teases you, if I miss something please tell me and I’ll be sure to add it here!
-feel free to reblog & interact it’s much appreciated thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoy this! 18+ only!
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“Where you going sugar?” Eddie’s husky voice says from behind you. One of his ringed hands coming up to grip on your shoulder. You feel your knees go weak, trying your best to remain standing as you look around at all his friends. They’re all watching you as you turn to look at Eddie. “Back to the van… if that’s okay, Sir.” You mumble out. A few of his friends chuckle as you hide your face, flushing from embarrassment. He nods, leaning forward and kissing your cheek softly before handing you the keys. “It’s all yours baby be there soon.” You listened as Eddie continued talking about some dnd campaign, the sound of his voice drowning out behind you.
He’d made a spectacle of you all night long, teasing you in front of everyone. He knew exactly what it did to you, you’d almost not agreed to come out tonight because you knew this would happen. Eddie loves teasing you, and his friends love it even more, watching you babble when he asks you a question because only a minute before he had said something incredibly dirty. The wide smirk on his face causes you to stutter as you squeeze your legs together, praying that no one will be able to see. They do. This time you decide not to stick around to hear the remarks they’d make.
You slowly open the door to his van, hopping up inside and slamming yourself back onto his seat. The uncomfortableness of your panties sticking to you is too much to handle, so you lift your hips, sliding them down your legs before throwing them in the back seat. All you can think of when you slip your fingers down to flip up your skirt is Eddie’s voice, the way he mocks you, laughs at you, the sweet nothings he’ll whisper to you once he has you all to himself. “Fuck.” You whimper out, your fingers lightly grazing against your clit.
You shuffle around a bit angling yourself so when Eddie opens the door he’ll have a perfect view of what belongs to him. To his friends, you’re shy and reserved, innocent even. Eddie knew the real truth about you and you were none of those things. Your eyes close as you get lost in the moment, you bite your lip hard enough that you’re sure it’ll bleed as you circle your fingers around your clit, the sensations running throughout your body as you moan quietly. “Please Eddie.” You cry out, sliding down against the passenger door.
“Well ain’t this a pretty picture.” Your eyes snap back open as a sick smile breaks out across your face. “Knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting long.” You say, giggling as Eddie climbs up into the drivers seat. He’s quick with the door, slamming it before turning to look back at you. Your fingers are still working over yourself, only going faster now that he’s watching. You go to stop but he grabs your wrist, guiding your hand down. “Oh please honey, don’t stop because of me. Let me see how desperate you are.”
You nod, your eyes half open from the pleasure as Eddie pushes two of your own fingers inside yourself. You groan at the feeling, it’s messy but you couldn’t love it more. The sounds of wet squelching and your moans fill up the van as Eddie’s eyes burn with lust. They’re latched onto where the both of you are moving together. “This is so good, but I really need you Ed’s please.” You beg. He shakes his head, holding your hand down, rocking your fingers in and out slowly. “I didn’t say you could stop babydoll.” He whispers as you buck your hips up, grabbing at his wrist with the hand that isn’t buried deep inside you.
Eddie leans back, sitting on his knees as he watches you. He pulls his hand away slowly and makes you do all the work as he palms himself lazily over his pants. “I wish they could see you now baby, absolutely pathetic and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet.” He says, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as a loud moan rips its way from your throat. “Fuck. Please.” You whine, your heartbeat speeding up as the tight cord winding itself in your stomach threatens to break. A bead of sweat makes its way down the side of your face as you buck your hips up again, meeting the thrusts of your own fingers.
You sit up a little, your body trembling as you watch Eddie slowly unbuckle his belt. You trail your eyes up to his face where he’s biting his lip, his eyes staring into yours as you continue to pleasure yourself. He laughs a little when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. “Aww darlin’ you’re so ready aren’t you? Go ahead, let me see you cum, give me a show baby.” It takes you no more than a small thrust of your fingers before you’re letting go. Your wetness spreads all over yourself and down onto Eddie’s seat as he watches. You can hear him talking you through it but the blood rushing behind your ears keeps you from hearing what he’s actually saying.
He gives you no time to recover, you hear something rush past you into the back of the van before Eddie’s on you like a wild animal. He slowly strokes himself a few times, rubbing the head of his cock right against your clit as you squirm underneath him crying and begging for him to fuck you already. He stops teasing only to reach down and slap your pussy, once, twice, three times. You yelp and just as you go to sit up to scold him he thrusts into you, practically knocking the wind out of your lungs. “Y’gonna scream for me sugar? Let all my friends hear how much of a slut you really are for me?”
“F-uckkk Eddie please!” You scream out, the slapping of Eddie’s skin against yours growing louder as he thrusts harder than before. He reaches under your ass to pull you up some, angling you just right so with every thrust his cock rubs up against your g-spot. “That’s it sugar, it’s okay I got you, let go. Cum on this dick and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good.” Your body trembles beneath him, your stomach flips at his dirty words as you look down and watch him sliding in and out of you. The drag of his cock, enough to make you feel like you’re on another planet entirely as you finally give up. Your eyes roll back as your mouth babbles on, Eddie grips onto your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin as you feel his cock twitch inside of you. His deep moans blend with yours creating a delicious melody as he fills you up.
You hear him laugh as you both come down from your high, he slowly pulls out of you leaving you empty and sore as you open your eyes to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” You say, your voice rough from how loud you were being, he smiles at you before leaning down to kiss your forehead, moving some of the hair that’s stuck to it away. “Oh, s’nothin. Just thinking how funny it is that you’re a freak, and they have no idea.” You bite your lip before giggling, slapping his arm slightly as you sit up to fix your clothes. You don’t bother with finding your panties as you watch Eddie reach into the back of the van, grabbing his pants. “Well, next time maybe we’ll have to give them a real show, Eddie.” You whisper, running your tongue up the side of his ear, his cock throbs at your words, a low moan slipping from his lips.
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tag list- @voyeurmunson @vecslut @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @josephquinnsfreckles
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pwinkprincess · 3 days
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fratboy/playboy!gojo takin readers virginity :3
hes manipulative :(( all is consensual tho
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it’s truly a mystery as to how satoru got his hands on you. even suguru doesn’t understand how such a flamboyant person managed to get someone like you, someone so sweet and pure. satoru is aware of the curious eyes that stick to the two of you like glue, he knows what people think and he loves it. he enjoys knowing he has the last piece to the puzzle. when people try to map out how a fuckboy got his grimy fingers onto you, he becomes tight lipped, only offering a sly smirk.
it’s no one’s business to know that he was persistent in getting you一sometimes too persistent. he’d linger around your dorm room, he sat directly beside you in the one class the two of you had together, it was minor things that blossomed into you catching feelings for him. when you had briefly mentioned to satoru that you were new to the city and didn’t exactly have many friends, god一you’ve never seen him smile so wide. you were oblivious to inner musings; lewd, disgusting thoughts of innocent you.
of course he had ulterior motives. as beautiful as you are, satoru finds girls with a bit of fight in them more attractive than submissive girls. you weren’t exactly his type but your naivety strung him along. and boy, was all the waiting worth it.
“t-toru.” you gasp his name dumbly. your pretty eyes glance down to where his thick cock was stretching your pussy. your long square shaped nails dig into his shoulder blade. “t-thought you said it wouldn’t h-hurt..” you sniffle.
“‘m a guy, baby. i’ve never had m’cherry popped.” he huffs out a chuckle. his chuckle is quieted once he bites down on his lip and concentrates on pushing his cock deep inside of you. once his hips are smacked against the fat of your ass, he takes a moment to look at you.
you feel so full of him. you could feel every vein, every ridge, the feeling of his cock pulsating inside you. it was almost too much of a feeling. “can we take a break, toru?” you remove your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. 
luckily, you weren’t able to see satoru roll his eyes at your question. “princess, really? we’ve gotten so far. i一jus’ look at how your pussy’s squeezing me.” 
“it’s.. w-we don’t have to stop jus’ a little break, toru.” you try to reason. satoru sucks his teeth in response. his cock is throbbing and he just wants to start pounding his way through your walls, giving your pussy the treatment it deserves. 
“fine. i guess i’ll have t’call another girl to一” he’s cut off by you gasping.
you quickly uncover your face and grab at his forearms. your eyes dart to the silver infinity chain that hangs from his neck and threatens to rub against your forehead. “no! please, no. we can do it! no breaks, k? you hear me, toru?” you wrap your legs around his waist as if you’re showing him that you mean every word you say. 
“nah, it’s good. unwrap your legs.” satoru has to fight himself, repeating in his head 'don't smile'. he’s got you where he wants you.
tears adorn your eyes as you look at him with apprehension. “p-please, d-daddy. i don’t wanna take a break. don’t go, please.” 
“well.. i guess we can finish.” he places a soft kiss on your lips before pulling his hips back and thrusting into you.
you’re satoru’s little delicate thing, he’ll make sure he has his fun with you.
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certifiedcodbabygirl · 17 hours
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clearly the only solution to the penpal au is you’re supposed to write to ghost but the entire task force hijacks the letters every once in a while. /hj /lh
Price also ends up doing that too once he realizes why the entire team becomes obsessed with writing letters
DUDE YES *smooches your brain*
Simon starts writing to you through a military penpal program Price had all of them in. Ofc, like the rat bastard he is, he drags his fuckin feet on it. Eventually, you manage to get him a little more willing to write back and it seems like he even looks forward to it. He's the first one to grab his letter from the container when they come. He claims it's to get it over with, but the other guys know better.
You'd think the other guys would be the ones more open to their penpals but NO. They managed to be paired with some of, who they call, the most boring people they could have met. Hell, even Price began to drag his feet after the 2nd letter back.
Simon seems to be the only one actually enjoying his exchanges, even if he tries to hide it. Johnny's the first one to get curious, wanting to know what the LT's got that's good enough to loosen the stick in his ass.
While Simon's out of the room, Johnny reads through the first couple letters Simon received. Your sweet words, stupid jokes, and genuine care are a stark contrast from the uninterested and short words he received from his penpal.
He stops writing to his penpal, not that they noticed/ cared, and grew the balls to write you one. He claimed his penpal dropped out, so they had to make do, not that you minded. And God, when you started to write back, he swore it was like he was a schoolboy all over again. Getting excited for the letters, heart racing as he reads your carefully written words, counting down the days till he gets another.
He gets ballsy one night and opens up to Gaz about what he did, not showing a single crumb of remorse. Tells him all about how sweet you are, how you show genuine care for his safety, even giving the idea of sending a care package. He could see that same thought process going through Kyle's mind, contemplating switching to you. He gave Kyle your address and told him to just come up with an excuse.
Now Kyle's a little smarter than Johnny, knowing that if Ghost finds out he's probably fucked. However, at the end of the day, he's a lonely man. He had this sweet thing like you just within reach and he's supposed to not take it? Yeah right.
He gave the same excuse Johnny did, claiming his penpal's schedule became too busy to write back, and just like that you had 3 soldiers wrapped around your finger. He sweet talked you, gave little puns here and there, really became like a lap cat. He wasn't as forward as Johnny and not as refrained as Simon. He gave you music recommendations when you say you like a certain genre, he gave you book recommendations, even sent you photos of him in front of a helicopter (you begged for it when he told you about him falling out).
Now, Simon isn't stupid. He isn't clueless. He noticed that the first couple letters went missing. Then he noticed Johnny being more eager to write. Same with Kyle. He noticed how they seemed to pull away from him when the topic was brought up. He's not a stupid man.
He might even be considered generous (don't say it to his face though, he'll take it as sarcasm). He knows the boys are talking to his penpal, but he'll be kind enough to share. His sweet lil thing. If you can keep up, that is. Your letters seem to boost morale and bring a small light that wasn't there before. They're all hard-working men, risking their lives to keep the world clean. They deserve this, don't they?
Even Price finds himself wanting in on it. If you can manage to bring Simon happiness (again, he won't admit it) and keep the other boys happy, surely you can take on one more. He sends you a letter, as their captain, and thanks you for what you've done. You're such a kind soul for giving these men some hope in their lives (laying it on thick, gotta keep em interested) and how much you've helped their performances.
They all write to you, their unofficial 141 penpal, and it works surprisingly well. The lines begin to blur a bit on being platonic and something else, but it'll be sorted out eventually. For now you're just theirs (Simon came around to it once he realized you had plenty of love to go around). You're the 141's, even if you don't fully understand what that means.
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The first picture they send to you, around Christmas^ (I can't find the artist, please tag them if you know who it is)
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xxxdreamscapexxx · 2 days
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Pairing: Mean Mommy!Wanda x Fem!Reader Word count: 700 Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, spanking, teasing, orgasm denial
Guys, I had this idea of sweet, kind, gentle, loving Mommy Wanda who always treats you so well and spoils you endlessly and adores to cuddle you and run her fingers through your hair. She’s the best. And you’ve only been her well-behaved girl so far, because you know she hates brats. Except you really wanna see that other side of her. You wanna know what she’ll do if you actually acted out… So you do. One day you have the audacity to mouth off to her, making her head snap in your direction and her eyes to turn cold. You see the way her jaw clenches as she walks towards you with big strides. “You wanna say that again?” She asks, just inches from your face, voice low. She’s so intimidating like this, so authoritive and demanding, but you’ve started this already so you stick to what you said, actually repeating it to her face. That’s when she snaps. She has her hand around your throat in seconds, backing you further into the room and spinning you around, so she can bend you over the armrest of the couch. She holds you down with one hand on your lower back, while the other lifts up the skirts of your dress and exposes your ass, greedy hands taking fistfuls of it and caressing you roughly. She takes a deep breath to try and calm herself, but she watches you wiggle under her, little gasps falling from your lips as you wait in anticipation and that’s when it clicks for her. You did it on purpose. She chuckles darkly at the thought, licking her lips while she takes you in like that. “You wanted Mommy to be mean?” She asks, her voice seductive and deep. “Well, here it is.” She says, as her free hand rises up and lands harshly on your ass. “While you enjoy your punishment, my darling, I want you to remember that you wanted this.” She warns, with that same dark and seductive voice. Then another slap lands. And another. She takes her time, savouring each one, caressing your cheeks that grow more sensitive and sore by the minute. Eventually she pulls your panties down, but the blows keep coming. She’s rough, just like you wanted and it makes you so unbearably aroused. You’re getting so wet from it and you’re pretty sure she can tell, but she never pays any attention to your pussy. Sometimes her fingers glide near it, so close, yet not close enough and it makes you squeeze your thighs in anticipation. She sees it. Sees the way you’re starting to get slick and needy, but she continues to ignore it entirely, eventually pulling your panties back up and smoothing down your dress. She chuckles when she sees your big, imploring eyes, your sore ass seated on the armrest she just spanked you over, looking up at her with so much hope. It almost makes her break her resolve. Almost. “Yes?” She asks expectantly, while she tucks your hair behind your ear. “Mommy… It…” You’re not sure how to tell her, but you know that she’s not going to help, unless you ask. “I really need you.” You finally say shyly. “Oh you need me…” She repeats, her voice sweet. Too sweet. “Do you want me to make it all better, baby? Is your pussy all needy now? Does it ache for Mommy?” She asks as she reached a hand between your legs, watching you part your thighs for her so eagerly. It’s adorable. “Yes, Mommy, please make it better.” You sigh, when she finally rubs you over your underwear, skilled fingers easily finding your clit and applying a little pressure to make you moan. “Please, it’s so achy.” Your head tilts backwards from the pleasure of her touch and you miss the sadistic smirk on her face. “Good.” She states suddenly, her hand pulling away. “Let it.” She adds cruelly. “Mommy’s not going to touch your pretty pussy today. And you’re not going to touch it either. You’re going to leave it all needy, just like this.” She instructs. “Bad girls don’t cum.”
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blushweddinggowns · 3 days
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Robin sat right down, sighing, “So what? We all live in the woods and hope the kids find us?”
“They will,” Steve reassured, “Lucas is probably getting help as we speak. Besides, it’s not that cold out. We’ll be fine. And if they don’t find us, we’ll find them.” 
Nancy nodded, despite the fact that she was already shivering. But Steve noticed. He didn’t even hesitate to take his own jacket off. 
She frowned, as he draped it over her shoulders,  “But what about you?”
“I have a sweater and an Eddie blanket,” Steve smiled, “I'll be just fine.”
“Speaking of that…” Eddie trailed in, “How about Steve and I go a little bit away and keep watch?”
Chrissy knew Jason was losing it, but she was 100 percent confident he was busy dealing with his murdered friend. She frowned, “Do you really think they’ll come after watching their friend die-”
“Yeah, you two go do that,” Robin interrupted with a sigh. She turned to Chrissy, “They want to make-out and save us the headache. We’re almost certain to be good for the night.”
“We'll be back soon,” Steve said, a slight flush to his cheeks but he didn’t correct her, “And we won’t go far.”
“Within an hour,” Nancy warned, “And keep quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said flippantly, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulder, “You won’t even miss us.”
They walked away into the darkness, leaning into each other as they went. Chrissy was pretty sure she saw Steve stick his hand into Eddie’s back pocket before they were out of sight. 
“It’s actually insane that they haven’t gotten caught yet,” Robin said as she watched them go, “I only found out because I saw them shoving tongues in a parking lot. But once you know, you can never unsee it.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t catch on sooner,” Chrissy sighed as she sat to Robin’s left, Nancy taking the right, “Did they really trick all of you?”
“All of us,” Nancy confirmed through a yawn, “They can actually be pretty sneaky when they want to be. They just never want to be.”
Nancy rested her head against Robin’s shoulder, Steve’s jacket wrapped tightly around her, “We should sleep.”
“We will,” Robin said quietly, “But don’t wait for us. Go right ahead.”
Nancy gave her a little smile, “If you say so.”
It barely took a few minutes for her to be completely out. She looked so peaceful, so much younger when she was asleep. Chrissy was well aware that Nancy was a small girl, but she had so much presence. 
“She looks so much bigger when she's awake,” Chrissy mumbled quietly, “Like she can take on the world.”
“She probably could,” Robin laughed, “I think it’s all personality.”
“I know. I wish I could be like that.”
“Why?” Robin asked, furrowing her brow, “You’re literally perfect.”
Chrissy couldn’t help but laugh at that, “How on Earth am I perfect?”
But Robin didn’t look like she was joking, “Dude you are. You’re so sweet and fun. You’re talented, athletic, pretty, but still nice somehow. You’re brave as hell, if this whole scenario stands for anything. And you’re hot when you punch dudes in the face.”
That was almost too sweet for Chrissy to hear. But she couldn’t help but zero in on one thing, “You think I’m hot?”
Robin froze, opening and closing her mouth as she stuttered, “I-No? I mean, yes? I-objectively yes. Not creepily.”
Chrissy smiled, her heart beating a little faster at the implication. But… Jason. She felt so bad for him. After what he’d seen, it made sense to blame them. But it only made sense now. There was no framework to understand what was happening before and to just blame Eddie and Nancy for everything was ridiculous. She’d never seen him like that before, so out of sorts. He was so good at keeping his temper undercheck, she didn’t get what was happening to him.
But… she had been pretty clear hadn’t she? She didn’t leave with him, she never even tried. She told him to go home, that she didn’t need him, she didn’t want him. It… it was close enough to a break-up wasn’t it? Chrissy wasn’t sure. Though she had a feeling even thinking of things the way she was made her a bad person. 
It just didn’t stop her from blurting, “I-I count tonight as breaking up with Jason. Just so you know. We um, we were never that close but my mom- she likes his family a-and… he used to be nice. He is nice but he’s… it doesn’t matter. We aren’t together. Just um, so you know. If you didn’t.”
She wanted to say more but… Chrissy could only be so brave in one day.
“I was um,” Robin swallowed, her face already red, “I was hoping that was the case. Because you deserve to be happy and I don’t…. I don't think he could do that.”
“He couldn’t,” Chrissy said softly, inching her fingers slowly to intertwine with Robin’s. She felt okay, as okay as she could be with the circumstances-
“Mmph!” 
Chrissy nearly jumped at the sudden noise, the only saving grace was that she definitely recognized it as Eddie’s voice. 
“Are they okay?” Chrissy asked nervously, staring out into the darkness. But Robin didn’t seem worried, she just gave Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. 
“I wouldn't check if I were you,” Robin sighed, “If they get loud again I'll throw a rock in their general direction. But they are fine. Trust me.”
from the newest chapter of this fic
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vodika-vibes · 1 day
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hi again!! i figured since your follower event is almost over i’d request one more thing from you! i was thinking topaz with wrecker please during the early morning like breakfast time if that makes sense?
the reader is kinda like the opposite personality to wrecker (not like totally mean but like they’re quiet and can come off as intimidating to most people), but wrecker is the only one who can make the reader smile and laugh and stuff like that. and can you please make the reader gender neutral?
Syrupy Kisses
Summary: You’re not much of a breakfast person, the most you do is have some caf as you start your day, but Wrecker is.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x GN!Reader
Word Count: 616
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Warnings: One suggestive comment
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: Thank you for your request! I hope this is close to what you wanted. I personally don't like eating breakfast, something I learned from my mom, so the reader is the same way.
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“Morning, Mesh’la!” Wrecker says from where he’s digging around the cabinets as you enter the kitchen. “I didn’t wake ya, did I?”
You shake your head, and then, realizing that he can’t see you, you add, “No, you didn’t. No need to worry, Wreck.”
He turns and beams at you over his shoulder, “Good! I’m making breakfast. Want some?”
“Just some caf, Wrecker. There’s no need to go through all that trouble for me.” You reply as you step around the table and slide your arms around his waist.
“It’s no trouble. I’m happy to do it.” He carefully turns in your arms and rests his strong arms on your shoulders, “I’m making waffles,” He tempts, “With chocolate chips.”
“Mm, tempting, but I’ll stick with the caf.”
His hands drop to your waist, and he effortlessly lifts you to sit you on the counter next to where he’s working, “You’re gonna waste away, mesh’la.”
“With as much as you feed me, I highly doubt that.” You lean against the wall and watch him pour you a mug of caf, and prepare it like you prefer, and then he presses it into your hands.
“One caf,”
You gratefully take the mug and set it next to you, before you reach out and lightly press your hand against his cheek, “You’re too sweet to me, Wrecker.”
He leans his hip against the counter, and leans into your touch, “Well now, I’m sure that’s not possible.” Wrecker replies in a quiet rumble. 
You laugh softly, “I got a comm from my sister last night, after you fell asleep.”
“Oh? What’d she say?” He asks as he taps the inside of your knee to make space for him between your legs.
“That it’s not nice of me to intimidate someone as kind as you into dating me.” You reply blandly.
Wrecker laughs, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder, “Intimidating? Oh, mesh’la, you’re quiet sure. But not intimidating in the least.” He pulls back and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Omega is more intimidating than you.”
Your lips curl up into a smile as you press your free hand against his chest, “I’m not sure how I feel about being deemed less intimidating than a thirteen year old girl, but-”
He laughs again, and this time leans in to kiss you properly. 
Like everything else in his life, Wrecker kisses with an enthusiasm that would be overwhelming if you weren’t able to match it. “I think your sister just doesn’t know you well, mesh’la.”
“She’s always thought I was a bit scary.” You admit.
“Quiet. Not scary.” Wrecker kisses you again and again. “I don’t think you’re scary in the slightest. I think you’re perfect. My perfect mesh’la.”
Your face heats, and Wrecker grins at you. “I’m hardly-”
“Mm, the most perfect. When you kiss me. When you cuddle with me. When you do that thing with your tongue that I really like-”
You press your hand over his mouth, your face burning a little hotter, “I thought this was breakfast hours, not praise me until I can’t function hours.” You say.
He kisses the palm of  your hand, “I can do both. I’m a very talented man. And you deserve all of the praise.”
“Please don’t.”
He chuckles and kisses you one more time, “I’ll stop, but only because I love you and because you said please.”
“I love you too,” You whisper, “And, thank you.”
He winks at you and kisses you one more time, before he finally pulls back to start making breakfast properly. And you can’t help but think that you want this forever. Or as long as he’ll have you.
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soaked4mk · 3 days
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How sweet// Kung Lao x Reader
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👽: had to REUPLOAD this but it’s cool.
⚠️:Cunnilingus/fingering/titty play
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
★ You sit comfortably on the sofa as Lao walks out of the kitchen with snacks for your guys’ movie night. “Tonight's gonna be fun,sugar plum. I’ve got all your favorite snacks lined up.”
★He smiles, plopping onto the couch beside you, setting the bag of sweets and other items on the table, next to your laptop.
★ “Thank you~” you reply sweetly, pressing play on the movie. Lao grabs the bag of konpeitō, popping it open with one hand as he wraps his arm around you.
★ Your eyes stay glued to the screen, as he pops a sugar star into his mouth. Enjoying the taste and texture, before reaching back into the bag to offer you one. “Hmm?” He hums to grab your attention.
★ Breaking your gaze from the screen, you look at the sugary delight that sits between his index and thumb, smiling before leaning in to eat it from his fingers, lips slightly wrapping around his digits in the process. “Mmmh~” you hum in response bringing your gaze back at the screen.
★ Laos’ cheeks dusted with pink, he wasn’t expecting you to take the candy from his fingers like that, not that he was complaining. It just got a bit of a…reaction.
★ Like—he felt a stirring in his loosely fitted slacks, and had to shift in his seat slightly—attempting to hide his sudden bulge.
★ Forcing his eyes to the screen, playing off his arousal as best as he could from the oh so simple act. You lean over his lap to grab a small bag of candy, too immersed in your show to notice his slight discomfort.
★ A small groan, barely audible, escaped his lips as you leaned back. Looking down at your adorably distracted face, he quickly had an idea, grabbing the box of pockys off of the table, he stuck one sugar coated stick into his mouth, tapping your shoulder, lightly, to grab your attention once again
★ Turning your gaze to your boyfriend, you giggle a bit with a cocked brow. “The pocky game? Really?” He just wiggles the candied stick between his lips, to further elaborate his intentions.
★You playfully roll your eyes, shrugging before deciding to humor him. leaning in to nibble on the other end. Bit by bit, your faces inch closer, up until you were almost touching noses.
★ Laos’ lips curled into a smirk, as he leaned in, biting down the rest of the sweet snack, before capturing your mouth into a fiery kiss. He tasted sweet, just like the pocky. His tongue danced with yours, demanding submission, while his hands began to roam over your body. He didn’t have to do much, your panties were practically soaked already.
★ The kiss quickly grew heated, Lao gently leans your back down into the softness of the sofa. “You’re such a little tease, and don’t even know it~” He said lowly, trailing kisses along your jawline, grazing his lips against your earlobe.
★“It’s quite adorable how you don’t even need to try to get me wound up…” he purred into your ear as his hands slid up your thighs in a slow, deliberate manner, nipping at your earlobe playfully before speaking again.
★ “You like that, don’t you?” He had a cocky grin on his face as he watched your reaction to his touch. you hum, nodding with your eyes half lidded, watching him continue.
★ He began sliding his hands up higher, causing goosebumps to form on your supple thighs, playing with your panty line, he raised your nightgown up with his other hand, exposing your breasts to the air, causing your nipples to harden immediately.
★ He took in the sight before him, licking his lips as he leaned down, capturing your left tit into his mouth, eliciting small sounds from you.
★ “aha- mmhm~” “h-ahh~” unable to hold back the small whimpering from escaping your lips, he swirled his tongue around your nipple, lightly biting at i, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “Hmmm, you have an interesting look in your eyes right now,” he taunted softly as he studied your face.
★“What’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours?” This level of teasing from your boyfriend made your cheeks flush crimson red. Turning your head away in a weak moment of embarrassment, you bring your hands up in an attempt to hide your glowing cheeks.
★ Lao swiftly grips your wrists with one hand, causing you to look back at him. “What’s wrong, short stack? Can’t handle a little bit of teasing?” He grinned, knowing he was pushing you over the edge. Releasing your wrists, his hand inched down to the hem of your panties. “P-please—“ you huffed- impatiently bucking your hips against his thigh that nestled between your own. “No more teasing…”
★ A small chuckle escaped his lips as he looked down at you. “Fine, fine… but only because you begged so nicely.” And with this, he slid his hand beneath the elastic of your panties, tracing your wetness, circling your clit in the process. “You’re soaked for me~” he slyly commented as he attacked your neck, leaving dark hickeys along it as his fingers went to work.
★ “Like this~?” He asked feigning ignorance, as he inserted his middle finger into you, pumping it vigorously, he pressed his thumb against your sensitive bud, neglecting it not one bit as he continued his ministrations.
★ “Y-yes~” you stammered, your breath hitching as his pace quickened, and his finger curled, hitting your sweet spot every time he pumped inside of you. He added a second finger, sending a shockwave of pleasure washing over you, arching your back as you feel a knot form within.
★ “Lao— hmff~” hearing your moaning and whimpering only fueled him to continue his actions, looking forward to driving you to your climax, he leaned down to lightly kiss your lips.
★ “I’m gonna make you cum with my tongue. Is that alright with you?” He asked bluntly, smiling as your eyes widened in surprise at the audacity. “I-I mean…” you were unsure, Kung Lao hadn’t gone down on you in this relationship yet. so naturally you were feeling a bit flustered, breaking your gaze from his momentarily.
★ He gently, yet firmly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look back at him. “ no need to be shy~” He reassured, trailing light kisses along your breasts before leaving a few more marks on you.
★ hovering his way down between your thighs. Looking up at you with his hungry gaze. you take a small breath to prepare yourself for—
★ His rough hands gripped your hips, dragging you to the edge of the cushion, while he knelt to the floor, swiftly changing the position you two had just held. He propped both of your legs over each of his shoulders, groaning softly as he admired your panty-clad pussy, outlined by the soaked fabric, clinging to every curve and crevice of your cunt. “So pretty~” he praised.
★ He couldn’t help himself, without another thought, Lao hooked his arms around each thigh, for better access and control. Leaning in, pressing his lips against your inner thigh, right where your panties met your skin, causing you to let out a small moan. He delved his tongue onto the fabric, teasing you through it as it clung to your core.
★ You arched your back a bit, his teasing short lived. he began to slide your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side and gripping your soft thighs— pulling you up to his face he dives into your pool of arousal, as if he were a starving man. Grinding himself against the constraints of his pants for a little friction.
★ Lapping at your folds while working his tongue, back and forth, probing your needy cunt, he keeps his pace perfectly as your hands naturally make their way to his hair.
★ Taking the band that held it up, wrapping it around your wrist, you comb your fingers through his thick, dark locks, throwing your head back in pleasure as his tongue continues its pace. Feeling the desire build up within, your hips buck against his face as he groans into your pussy.
★ while tugging at his hair, he hums into your cunt, cumming into his pants while bringing his hand up to your clit, circling it clockwise, as you reach nearer to your summit.
★ “I-i feel close~” you warn, not sure if he was going to move or not, the the thought quickly vanished as he hums against your slicked cunt. “Good, that means I’m doing my job right~” you could feel him smiling against your skin.
★ Your hips bucked once more, your peak approaching. “I-I-” becoming incoherent, your brain buzzing while you succumb to pleasure. “Cum for me baby, I want to taste every bit of you.” wriggling under his touch, Laos fingers dug into your plush thighs for a moment. “No squirming away from me, cutie.” He held you in place firmly, while your grip tightened through his hair.
★ Lao smiles against your pussy, as he helps you reach your high point, bringing two fingers up to your slit, inserting them and pumping you for everything you’ve got, gliding his tongue to your pulsating clit.
★ you finally release everything that had been pent up, legs trembling over his shoulders in the process. You let out an undeniable moan, your body relaxed as you finished in your boyfriends faces. “Delicious~” he compliments as takes his fingers out of you, bringing the coated digits up to your mouth, he has you clean them off for him- the taste of your own essence lingering on your tongue
.★ “Don’t you agree?” He quipped as he stood up, grabbing the necesites for clean up, along with a fresh pair of panties and one of his shirts.
★ on top of that, he brought out the fuzzy blanket, wrapping you in it as he sat you back down on the couch, he looked at your flushed face. “You look tired.” You nod as you hold your arms out for him to pick you up, carrying you to your shared bedroom. The laptop long forgotten on the table, he sets you gently in bed. tucking you in while slipping beneath the covers next to you. You quickly fall asleep beside him.
★ “So cute…” he whispers, sweeping some of your hair from your face, cupping it. and with that, he too would soon fall asleep. The next morning you awoke to hot tea and breakfast in bed. He smiled as he handed you the plate. “You fell asleep before I could pamper you the way I wanted to last night…” You gladly take the plate, kissing you boyfriend on the cheek while thanking him.
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screampied · 4 months
Text
❛ TOO SWEET! ❜
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geto, toji, gojo, nanami, choso. jjk men who can’t get enough of your sweet taste ‘& becomes needy for your touch.
total wc. 3.0k
warnings. fem!reader, aphrodisiacs, whiney men, unprotected sex, mating press, cowgirl, doggystyle, nipple play, eating out through your panties, dry humping, praise
an. request thank yew aiii, using this req as an excuse to make the jjk men whiney.
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CHOSO ☆ KAMO
“baby w-wait,” he swallows, and choso’s panting heavily. heaving practically…
he just couldn’t keep his hands off you — ever since he told you in that soft, shaky red-handed voice that he ‘accidentally’ swallowed and eaten your freshly new bought sugary-coated sweets. “i feel so…” he murmurs, spinning you around before planting a kiss on your neck, then another, then another. “i need you. y-you smell sweeter than usual.”
“oh..is it that bad?” you stare up at him, a single eyebrow of yours raises, and he whimpers. you’re teasing him. the pout that curls down his lip is just adorable.
choso doesn’t give you a answer. he’s so starved of your wanted touch, all he does is drag a few inelegant awkward steps towards you, bringing you into a deep kiss.
choso cups your face with his big hands, his tongue swipes against yours and he backs you up against the glass cold refrigerator door.
he lets off a delicious moan inside your mouth and you gasp, feeling him spread your legs apart with his knee and your own whimper slips out as he’s kissing you. his body heat against yours was so warm, and every few seconds he broke away to repeat your name underneath his breath his shaky needy whispers. oh… maybe..
it really was that bad…
“are you sure?” you faltered with a shy smile, massaging the nape of your neck with your fingers. choso sat on the bed, his face remained flustered and plastered which nothing but whole heartedly lust and thirst. “this’ll help you um..stop feeling all….you know.”
“baby, yes—please,” he whines, his eyes plead. choso’s entire body felt so hot-tempered, warm.
it was cute seeing him grow frustrated, yet he was still as whiney as always, pink lips of his pursing and pouting as you teasingly and slowly made your way to sit on his face. “t-thank you, thank y—mph..”
your panties were still on but choso could care less, as you plopped down gently on his face — he couldn’t take it.
one single stripe lick between the crevices of your underwear was enough to make you moan out his name, hovering over him while giving him that same timid gaze. “c’mon. i need this, need you,” he’d speak, his own breath was racing against itself, jittery.
he gives your thighs a quick pry with his right hand, spreading your legs and you moan as he’s literally eating you out through your laced panties.
“ride my nose, baby. pleasepleaseplease. wanna savor my pretty girl’s—” and he pauses to breathe, almost forgetting to before moaning out. “..pussy.”
“c-choso..” you panted, starting to ride against his nose. he looked so pretty and submissive underneath you, a smile never leaving his lips as you were continuously starting to cover the lower half of his chin with your sweet slick. “fuck, fuck.”
his tongue was sloppy, never ending with the way it slurps your folds up. teasing your puffy clit with numerous sucks, his head’s swiftly moving and jerking as your hips moved and moved against him. choso reaches down to rub against the brick hard bulge building up in his shorts and he whines.
“c-can i touch myself?” he whimpers, and your heart swoons at him even asking. “….god, i’m so hot for you, baby. you make me so dirty. your taste… ‘s doin' this to me. just.. wanna please you, all night long baby.”
SUGURU ☆ GETO
“m' serious, princess,” geto mutters, gripping onto your shoulders. he looked like he’d just came back from his hourly workout. he’s staring you dead in the eyes, some strands of long black hair sticking to his forehead, and it appears as if he’s nearly out of breath. “i…ate your uh candy. but it’s not like you labeled it or anyt-”
geto freezes for a moment. he grows dramatically stiff, before staring down at his pants then at you. “shit.”
“…sugu, are you hard?” you giggled.
and oh, he grows so embarrassed. geto’s facial expression turns into a cute scowl, his ears grows hot the more he stares at you—and indeed he is.
geto’s boner was sort of hard to ignore. him wearing grey sweats didn’t make things easier either.
“can..can you help me or not? y’don’t know how painful this…is,” he huffs out and seconds later after you comply with a sweet little ‘okay’ he’s got you sprawled out all pretty on the bed. “more hornier than u-usual..” he swallows, leaning in to plant kisses straight down your chest to your stomach before he slides your panties off.
you stared at geto, and he licks his lips, panting. his chest heaved back and forth and he’s sweating a bit, he’s so turned on he feels so hot once he’s easing his way inside your pussy with his dick.
“m-mhm,” he bites his lip, keeping one hand resting on your tummy. you never heard him this whiney before and it was so cute. he doesn’t wanna rush but he can’t help it but start to create a pace with his hips. you moaned once he leaned into you, whining in his low voice, “kiss me, please. kiss me, princess.”
he was so thick. you felt him everywhere, his thrusts were so sloppy against you. more sloppier than usual but he was so driven.
his mind raced and his heart heated ten times faster than it regularly does.
“come here, baby.” you playfully smiled, moving his long dancing hair strands from his face and he deeply kissed you with tongue. hearing you say ‘baby’ got him more turned on.
the candy, your taste, and just your smooth sweet voice alone was gonna be the death of him.
“okay, okay…” he pants, you wrap your arms around him as his body weight lightly lingers against your chest. he’s so sensitive, warm as he leans in to kiss you for a second time.
it’s more quick and steamy. your tongue collides against his and you taste the sweet tang of the intoxicated candy residing on his tongue. you moaned at his hips smacking against yours at such rhythm. geto lets off a soft whiney purr at the way you comb a hand through his hair.
his lips were connected to yours for what seemed like forever. his warmth radiates against your skin as his body rocks against you.
“so sweet,” he murmurs, breaking away for a brief moment, his cock taps against your most sensitive bits and you whine. geto’s gentle but can’t help but be a bit crazy with thrusts, his strokes that made you dizzy. “i-i need more,” he huffs out, kissing the side of your mouth, then your neck, then your chest.
geto’s still huffing and puffing as he’s inside of you—each stinging slap he creates with his hips, you run into him and he moans, raising your right leg up, the leg that was wrapped around his waist to lick a long stripe up it while keeping direct eye contact. “can’t get enough.. ‘n it’s all your damn fault, princess.”
NANAMI ☆ KENTO
“sweetheart..”
is all your boyfriend says. you’re bent over the counter, and he pauses, you slip off a moan as nanami’s pressed up against you. his voice sounds lower than usual, raspy and somewhat whiney..? he intakes a breath before lifting the fabric of your sundress up. “i don’t want you to..see me like this.”
“kento, baby,” you shyly smile, not even facing him. “i told you yesterday not to eat the candy. the side effects are um…strong.”
with one hand, nanami tugs on his tie back and forth, he’s hot. “i’m aware of that now,” he grunts and you let off a gasp, feeling his hard boner rub against your ass. he grabs onto your waist and starts to make you grind your ass against him and he swears underneath his breath.
“fuck me,” he mutters in frustration. “forgive me, s-sweetheart but i just…i really wanna take you right here over this counter. restrain your cute hands with my tie and..”
“what’s stopping you then?” you teased.
and that was all it took nanami couldn’t hold back anymore, the lust overtook him and it was too strong. your cloying fragrance alone had him so tipsy. you’re perfectly arched over the sleek shiny, granite kitchen counter. nanami’s ruthless with his hits against your core. “k-kento..”
you’d moan out, your own hands pinned against your back with the neatly tie restraining your wrists, not too tight but just enough. you’re just bent over with the most perfect arch.
he’s so warm as he sloppily thrusts against you, again and again. his tip brushes against between your folds and you whimper out from how good he’s hitting you from behind. he’s got an exquisite tempo of roughness but also very gentle.
nanami grunts with the way your ass kisses against him each time. he purposely grows quiet to hear the hard hits, yanking on your pretty sundress. “jus’ like that, baby,” he’d moan out, barely able to contain himself. “throw yourself back…against me, jus’ like that…goddamn, girl.”
you were hunched over, wrists still restrained with his striped tie, a good grip of you as you’re being pounded ruthlessly against the counter. he’s never felt this horny and aroused before, hot and cold describes his heat and he groans at the way you move against him.
his dick reached you in each crevice, each spot with such ease you’re whining. you covered his base with your slick, he gets so hard from the recoil the more he stares down. nanami eyes the way the pretty sundress you wore—the one he bought you for valentine’s day, was all wrinkled and lazily pulled up to your waist. “s-so good, kento. more..”
“good, want you to feel good,” he rasps, caressing your bare ass once more. once his fat tip reaches your g-spot with a single hit you choke out his name and it sounds so pretty. “arch that pretty back just a more for me, pretty.”
you do and he gives you a soft encouraging spank, just to hear you whimper out kentooo. it drives him crazy, you drive him crazy—he’s so obsessed with the way your ass jerks back against him.
one swift smack and you moan, he slides a tongue across his lip, grunting at the way the recoil just bounces against him. he’s so dizzy, holding on to your hips, a firm grip and making you move back and forth before he starts panting.
“a little more, sweet girl,” and you do, moaning once his hefty base smacks against your ass. he starts to get a bit whiney, despite his low pitched voice, he’s completely losing composure. “all the way down, bend for me….y-yeah,” he stutters, and you get shivers, feeling nanami teasingly run two fingers down your spine.
“fuck, you’re gonna milk me, honey. make a…damn mess out of me.” and you do—because not even moments later, nanami ends up spraying thin ropes of of his cum all over your pussy, painting it like a canvas. “got me all messy just for you, p-princess.”
FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI
toji’s hungry ass genuinely doesn’t care. 
the moment he spots a pocket-sized, untouched velvet box of tasty sweets with cute neat handwritten of a sharply that wrote ‘DO NOT EAT ME!!” he pays no mind.
eating it, savoring the rich taste of caramel and cinnamon. he’d probably eat in front of you just to spite you.
yet, the last thing you’d expect would be to return home to a needy whiny toji. 
“hey…girl,” you hear from behind you. he sounds worn out, as if he’d run a marathon.
he greets you with an awkward hug, which is more so just him feeling on your ass, his boner poking against your leg and he intakes your sweet scent before grunting into your neck.
“i…i ate the fucking candy. and all of a sudden you smell sweeter than..than usual and, shit.” he sighs, feeling your soft lips kiss the side of his mouth, his scar. “look. i just..i need you, bad,” and he sounds embarrassed, not even presenting you eye contact. 
his eyes hide underneath his long uncut strands before he continues, picking you up while gripping down on your thighs. “but..maybe this’ll fuckin’ help..”
and by that…he means putting you in a simple mating press, toji’s stuffing you full of cock, he’s doing more moaning than you which is surprising.
his weight that lodges over your pussy just smacks against you each and everytime. he’s treating you like a rag doll basically. you’re just dumbly being stuffed full of inches, holding onto his beefy arms while he’s thrusting in and out, smack after smack it makes your ears ring.
“mhm yeah baby—girl,” he’d choke out, and you’re squeezing down on him so tight it makes his jaw clench. “so damn…hot, fuck i need more…gotta overflow this pussy s’good it’s drippin’ out.” and you whimper at him clamping down on you.
his thrusts became so nasty and sloppy, barely any rhythm. 
toji looks so pretty when he’s needy. deranged, but pretty. he’s sweating a bit, beads race down the sides of his forehead, toned muscles were tense, including his back muscles. yet he blinks twice again.
slowing his strokes just a bit before groaning. “f-fuck, nasty bitch y’er tryna milk m-me?” and he whines—a gasp wretching from his mouth before that’s when toji realizes. 
he came early.
toji stares at you, panting heavily, bottom lip quivering as he’s still got you in a mean mating press. your legs were just dumbly in the air, twitching and you moaned at feeling his cum trickle down your slit, oozing out of you.
“toji baby, did you just whine?” you teased, heaving yourself. and toji showcases a glare, bringing a swift spank towards your pussy and you moan. 
“say…say that shit again…” he murmurs, all out of breath. he sits up, still stuffed deep inside you, his thick sheeny triceps flexed as he had them pressed against the sides of you.
“say what?”
he’s so embarrassed—a sheepish expression washes over him, tips of his ears were fuming with hotness before he grumbles, pulling out just to avert his eyes towards your messy pussy. “fuckin’….call me…baby again...please.”
“call you baby, yeah?” you teased, and he glares, a cute scowl on his face
“…you heard me, whore.”
GOJO ☆ SATORU
“hey, you’re back,” he utters, hugging you from behind. he smells so good—peppering your neck with a variety of chaste kisses, he sounds a bit shaken up and he’s far more clingy than usual.
the minute you hug turn around to hug him, softly running a finger down his undercut he lets off a moan. “y-your touch. ‘s been so long since-”
“toru i was only gone for three hours,” you mumbled, and he stared at you.
his entire face was flushed, his usual fluffy and well was all in his face. messy, ruffled, and he was sweating just a bit.
“why-” then you pause, moving your eyes towards the night stand to see the empty wrappers of candy scattered everywhere. “you- did you eat those?”
“no,” he immediately says, with a swift head shake, before letting off an ashamed, “yes.. i couldn’t help it. i thought you were just joking about the um…horniness.. but baby, i-i need you on top of me.”
he was so desperate.
you decided to 'help' him, in his way he wanted you to ride him so the lust could wear off, hopefully.
gojo’s so loud, slouched back against the squashy pillows of the sofa.
his head goes back before gripping your waist, whining at the way your hips rollicked against him. “f-fuck me more, touch me more. kiss me..baby please, ‘m so hot, pussy’s making me burn up, fuck..”
“satoru,” you mumbled, bucking your hips against him and it makes you suck your teeth. he was so big, easily stretching you out, molding out your pussy with such grace.
“stop talking.” you moaned, rocking back and forth. his cock, the girth of it stretched inside of you and you bite down on your lip.
gojo’s hair nearly covers his eyes, and he’s panting and whining each second. the way you clamp and squeeze around him makes his head spin.
“m-make me, girl.” he pouts.
you rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him and gojo moans in your mouth. the slim tip of his tongue ran against yours and he was so sloppy, breathing out his nose. he squeezed your ass with his left hand before whimpering once he started to bottom out.
he pulls away, simultaneously grabbing one of your breasts to latch his lips onto your perky nipple, a sweet attempt to hide his moans but he was still loud.
“mph,” he muffled, blue eyes staring up at you as you rode him so good his eyes nearly starts to roll back and you moan from the stimulation. his orgasm came so hard that he’s almost seeing stars. he painted your insides white—so much came out, it’s like he’s been saving his old just for you, he couldn’t stop tottering while being beneath you.
that’s when he lets out a sharp breath—tapping you lightly with his bottom lip visibly poking out.
“can..can you praise me?” he pants, you slow down your rhythm and gojo’s pupils dilates a bit, he swallows before moaning once you lean in to kiss near his neck. “your voice gets me so..tingly.”
“you did so good, satoru,” you hummed, kissing his nose, then his neck, then his chin, he’s still buried inside and he can’t stop moaning from your touch.
you run a finger down his v-line and he whimpers, his eyes following your movement and he was indeed warm. “…good boy.”
“jus’ hearing you talk ‘s gonna make me cum again, baby.” he choked out.
his soft shaky moans go against your ear the minute you start to ride him again, a slow yet sensual pace and he’s about to lose his mind. “don’t s-stop fucking me please. ‘m your good boy. all yours...fuck.”
25K notes · View notes
tootiecakes234 · 3 months
Text
“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.
“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.
“Where ya at?”
“In the game room.”
So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.
“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.
“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.
“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”
“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.
You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.
“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.
“No.”
“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“
And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”
“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”
“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”
“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.
“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .
“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.
“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”
You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.
So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.
He is allowed to say no.
“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.
“Yeah she is.”
“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”
“I’ll tell her.”
And with that you head toward the door and leave.
Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.
You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.
After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.
Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.
“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”
“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.
“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”
“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”
“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”
And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. ��Awwwww my sweet boy”
“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”
And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.
You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.
He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99
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dante-mightdie · 18 days
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A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺
nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth
c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda
it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to
they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that
simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…
“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer
simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads
“she’s so selfish.”
‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(
“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.
you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john
“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you
simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them
and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t
he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him
he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.
‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan
his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom
“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen
he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years
he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house
you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks
“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt
“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly
“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh
“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter
he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes
“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him
he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip
“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer
he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date
but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.
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moongreenlight · 5 months
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Have you ever seen that corny ass skit where it’s the girl talking to her husband asking him to fix things and he says “I’m not a plumber” “I’m not a carpenter” bla bla bla and then one day he comes home and the girl’s like “oh yeah I had the neighbor come over to fix the things you wouldn’t” and the neighbor says she can either bake him a cake or sleep with him as payment so the husband asks “so what kind of cake did you bake him?” And the girl says “I’m not a baker?”
Very much Neighbor!Price x stay-at-home-mom!reader coded :)
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
Neighbor!Price who’s found a quiet little cul-de-sac to settle in when he’s got some time off. It’s a little neighborhood, mostly older people who’re thrilled to have a man like him around to help bring out bins and offer to mow their lawns or rake their leaves or shovel their drives when he’s around.
But somehow he’s found the only other younger family in the area living directly next to him. Parents are a few years his junior, and they’ve got two young kids. He assumes the boy, the older one, is early elementary age- sees you herding him into the car in the morning with a pack lunch and a backpack that’s nearly the same size as he is to and from the house in the morning and afternoon. And the girl, the younger, must be in pre-k, because she’s only out for half the day and doesn’t get the same pack lunch her brother gets.
He’s gotten to know you pretty well. When he’s around, the two of you will chat while you’re tending your garden and he’s working in his garage carrying out some odd project or another. He thinks you’re sweet. Likes the way you wear overalls with a little top when you’re planting flowers in the beds out front. How when you bend over or stand at the right angle he can imagine you’re not wearing a top at all.
He hates your husband. He’s crass and rude and never waves hello to any of the neighbors- odd for such a friendly little community. Leaves for work early and comes home late and leaves you to fend for yourself all day. Doesn’t know how to interact with you or your kids. And Price is almost certain he doesn’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked because his bedroom window looks over your living room and he’s caught you on the couch with your hand down your pants more times than could have been coincidence.
He’s known to be the neighborhood handyman. Got a little workshop set up in his garage and a general knowledge about nearly everything, so it’s not uncommon that he gets a knock on the door a few times a week. Usually it’s some of the older neighbors popping over to see if he can fix their TVs or help their grandkids connect to the Wi-Fi, but it’s a pleasant surprise when you turn up on his porch mid-morning.
You’re scrunching the ends of your soaking wet hair in a towel. Apologizing as soon as you hear him turn the deadbolt. Feverishly going on about how you must have blown a circuit in the bathroom trying to dry your hair and you’d usually be able to manage but your husband shoved a bookshelf in front of the breaker and you can’t get through to it.
He’s sweet about it. Always is, but especially for you. Follows you over to your place and promises you no less than ten times that it’s really no trouble. He’s happy to help. It’s a quick fix, but he drags it out as long as he can. Insists on following you up and down the stairs from the basement to the top floor twice to make sure everything’s working properly.
He notices that the bathroom door sticks and that the fire alarm in the hallway is chirping from a low battery. You apologize for the toys in the living room and the clean laundry pile on the couch and the state of your house. Say that your husband is racking up a hefty to-do list with a small laugh that’s just a bit too forced.
He’s thrilled to tell you that he’s got some free time later in the week and says he’ll come over if only to help out your husband. Makes some backhanded remark about how your husband is clearly a busy lad. You refuse- of course- sweet thing that you are, but he turns up the next day after you’ve taken your kids to school anyway.
He tails you up the drive so there’s no way you can shut him out. Shushes you when you try to apologize for one reason or another and takes off to fix not only the sticky bathroom door and the fire alarm batteries, but also the dripping kitchen faucet and the garbage disposal that’s been broken for months.
You try to stay clear of whatever room he’s working in, chirping short responses to whatever nonsense question he asked in an attempt to lure you over. It was only when he was about to head out and he saw you leaning on the dryer to keep it shut that he saw his golden opportunity.
You were clearly trying to hide it, but even with a small load of clothes in, it sounded like you’d thrown a pair of boots into a tin garbage pail and shook it hard as you could. You tried to shoo him off, but he wasn’t having any of it.
There’s enough skirting around the subject to give you chance to turn down his advances, but when he realizes you’re not outright telling him to go fuck himself, he’s essentially taking it as a challenge to see if he can’t push you to that point.
Hoists you up on the still clanging machine and pushes between your legs on the weak pretense of needing you there to keep the door shut while he works. The machine shook the straps of your top down off your shoulders and made him acutely aware of the fact that you hadn’t had the time to put on a bra yet. It made his pants near painfully tight on the crotch.
He’d try and make idle chat. Your kids and plans for the day, but it’s entirely too hard for him to focus on anything other than the way your thighs are pressing together as the dry cycle started to bang the machine around more. He makes a light comment about how he’s not sure how you get anything done around the house with the dryer in this state. Your laugh is breathy.
And when he leans over you to reach to the back of the machine, he can feel the way your soft panting breaths fan his neck. Confirms his suspicions.
“Alright?”
You’re chewing the inside of your lip while you nod. Clearly starved for stimulation if all it takes is a dry cycle to get you off. Poor thing.
It’s stuffy in the laundry room. Adds to the appeal. Makes your shorts ride up and stick to your legs. Your thighs are dewy and glide together when you shift under his gaze.
“You sure, doll?”
The two of you are almost nose-to-nose. You’re leaned back, caged in by his big arms that look even bigger in his almost obscenely tight shirt. He’s smiling. Letting his eyes wander to your collarbones. The way your throat bobbed when you swallowed.
Before you could choke out your answer, the dryer stopped. Chimed the alert and slowly stilled. You took a shaky breath and nodded once more, looking like you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed or relieved. He backed off, stretched out his hand to help you down.
You lead him to the kitchen. Ask if you can get him anything. Tea or food. He declines. You say something about stopping to get cash when you’re out picking up your daughter in a couple hours. He declines again.
“John, really, I appreciate your help. You have to let me get you back.”
You’re filling the kettle with water anyway, leaned just slightly over the sink. He knows it’s impolite to stare, but he’s never had very good manners when it came to things like that.
“Bake me a cake or somethin’, then. Sleep with me. Won’t take your money, though.”
You whirl around and end up sloshing some water down your front. Doesn’t seem to phase you. Your eyebrows are damn near at your hairline.
“I don’t know if that’s appropriate, considering…”
He snorts a soft laugh. It’s kind- not at all suggestive. Like he’s playing off a clever joke.
“What? Baking me a cake?”
You purse your lips and set the kettle on the stove.
“Never been a very good baker.”
He about hurdles the kitchen island like he’s running track.
“That right?”
You make a thoughtful sound before clicking on the burner. He can see you biting back a smile. You finally turn to face him. Leaned back on your hands with your head cocked slightly to the side.
“I just don’t know that it would be appropriate given our- my- situation.”
It’s his turn to hum and nod. Take a few steps forward, slow and slinky like a predator stalking toward its prey.
“Sure.”
You chew your bottom lip. Try to find some resolve in fussing with your wedding ring. It’s horrible. Small. He can’t help but think about how he’d be able to get you a much better one. He takes a few more steps forward.
“It’s complicated, John.”
Your voice is mousy now.
“I know.”
A few more steps forward and he’s back nose-to-nose with you. Pinning you against the counter.
“I just-“
“Then tell me to go home.”
The button of his jeans grazes your groin and sends sparks up your spine. You recoil slightly, but he’s got his massive hands on your wrists to keep you in place.
“My husb-“
“Don’t. S’not what I said. Tell me to go home. Tell me to go home, and I’ll leave. S’easy as that.”
The coarse hair of his beard brushes along your jaw. Visible goosebumps rise all the way up your neck and down your arms.
“John, he-“
A throaty growl from him.
“He’s not getting a lick of you.”
And then somehow he’s got you on your back on the couch. Shoved off the pile of laundry and pushed you down. His eyes are near pitch black and hungry. Ravenous. He tears off your shorts. Doesn’t wait for you to hoist your hips, just yanks so hard that you’re a little worried you’ll get thrown off the couch with them.
He is wretched. Planting wet kisses from the inside of your knee all the way up to your sex frustratingly slow. Big hands splayed over your hips to keep you from bucking up into his mouth. He’s got this maddeningly smug smile on his face like he’s waiting for the perfect moment to say I told you so. Like he knew this was going to happen from the start, you were just too stupid to see.
Your underwear is embarrassingly wet from your little go on the dryer. Your pussy puffy and sensitive underneath. You whine when he kisses over the damp spot. Laves his tongue over your folds without pulling them to the side. He makes some comment about the state of you that borders on snarky, but you choose to ignore it.
When he finally does rid you of your panties, there’s a moment of clarity where you realize what you’re doing. You push up on your elbows and try to roll out from under him, but he gives your clit a mean slap that forces you back onto the couch and ends your protest. Sends you to that liminal, clouded headspace where all you can focus on is how desperately you need to come.
It’s clear he’s savoring the moment. Running the point of his tongue through your folds. Teasing at your hole. Artfully swirling around your clit, but never close enough to give you the friction you’re so desperately craving. Planting hot, wet kisses on your inner thighs. Leaves a few love bites in his wake like he’s boasting; so certain your husband wouldn’t get close enough to notice that he had no problem decorating you as he pleased.
You’re a mess. Being taken apart stitch by stitch. Panting and whining and begging for more. Your orgasm is coiling tight under your belly without him having to do much. Any other time you’d have felt a little pathetic, but you were too preoccupied to care now.
He finally brings his hands up and you think he’s about to stuff you full, but he only lets his fingers drag slowly along your sensitive sex. Collects some of your arousal and pulls it up toward your naval. Watches the goosebumps form under his touch.
He rucks your shirt up with his free hand and immediately wraps his lips around your pebbled nipples. Tongues at them. Lets his teeth graze teasingly over them. And whatever one he’s not got currently in his mouth, he’s working his fingers over. Pinching and flicking until you’re teary eyed and squirming under him.
And then finally, fucking finally, he ducks back down and fixes his mouth on your clit. Sucks gently on the swollen bud for just a moment and then companies his mouth with two fingers bullying their way inside you.
The stretch is almost uncomfortable in its suddenness, but you quickly get used to it. The pleasure is blinding. Forces you to throw your head back against the cushion and screw your eyes tightly shut. A string of high, needy moans float through your gaped lips.
He’s sweet, Jesus, is he. Hums and groans with his mouth still on your bundle of nerves. Pulls away just enough to tell you how pretty your pussy is taking him before going back to work on your sensitive clit. You want to scream. You think you may actually come entirely undone on this couch if he doesn’t stop.
And then your orgasm coils so tightly within you that it explodes outward. Tears through you and leaves every square inch of your skin sizzling. He doesn’t let up. Pins you down by the stomach with his forearm and continues down his warpath. The sounds his fingers make when they sink into you are so pornographic that it makes your face hot.
You eventually find it in you to warble out something that sounded like please, too much. And he pulled off, still with that smug grin pulling his lips now surrounded by glistening slick caught in the hair of his beard.
He gives you one last kiss. Lewd and wet and so searing hot you’re worried it will actually blister the sensitive flesh of your cunt. He’ll sit back on his haunches and fuss with the button and zipper of his jeans before saying something horrible and cheeky like
“C’mon, doll. Thought you were set on payin’ me back.”
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strang3lov3 · 7 months
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VS
Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.
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This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”
Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.
W/C: 4.7k
“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 
“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”
“Sounds cool.”
“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”
None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 
Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 
So what was Joel there for?
To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 
It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.
 Comedy gold.
“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”
Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”
“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”
Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 
You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”
“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 
You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 
“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 
“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”
“So where’d you get your clothes from?”
Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”
Sounds like Joel. 
There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.
“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 
“You’re joking.”
“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”
Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”
“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”
You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 
Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 
He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”
You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”
“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 
“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”
“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”
“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 
“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”
So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”
A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”
Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”
“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t wanna.”
But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”
Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”
“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”
 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”
You don’t believe in TMI. 
You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 
You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”
“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 
You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 
Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”
“Not interested.”
You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”
You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”
Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”
You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?
The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–
You interrupt. “The fuck?”
“What?”
“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 
“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”
“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 
Men. No help at all. 
Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 
Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.
You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 
“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”
“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 
And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 
You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”
Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 
And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”
You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”
“You never make things easy for me, do you?”
Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 
Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.
Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 
You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.
Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. “What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”
 “Why not?”
“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.
“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”
You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 
You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.
You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 
Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 
“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.
“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”
Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”
Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”
“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 
“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”
His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”
And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.
“Right,” you agree. 
Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.
“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.
His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”
“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.
“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”
“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”
You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”
You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 
“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”
You nod again.
“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”
“I-I dunno, Joel.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”
You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.
“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”
You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.
“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”
You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.
“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”
With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”
Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 
While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 
Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”
You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.
He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.
“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”
He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 
He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.
“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”
“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 
“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”
“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 
“What’s the magic word, hon?”
“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”
“Wrong,”
You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 
 “It’s Cinnabon.”
Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 
He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 
“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”
Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 
“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”
You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 
You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 
Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 
He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 
“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.
Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”
That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 
‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 
Part two here
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planetsano · 7 months
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warnings: hybrid talk, master/pet, heats, knot mention.
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gojo satoru would be the best caregiver looking after his hybrid girl. you’re so precious and sweet to him, you can barely string together a coherent sentence but satoru’s long since come to understand what you’re trying to convey. he thinks it’s so cute when you get frustrated that your words aren’t matching with the big emotions you’re feeling in your chest and it makes your bottom lip quiver and tears well in your eyes. but he understands— he makes you feel seen, heard, understood and loved.
if you’re a little lamb hybrid, you’re so gentle with kind demeanor, but you’re also timid or shy. gojo tries to get you out of your comfort zone by making you ask the cashier for your own ketchup and extra napkins.
if you’re a little bunny hybrid, you’re curious, friendly, and a bit mischievous at times. he can’t get enough of touching on your little cotton tail and soft, floppy ears. the way you eat your fruits is SO fucking cute because you space out while you nibble.
if you’re a little puppy hybrid, you’re curiosity gets you into a bit of trouble because you get into things you’re not supposed to. your demeanor is bubbly, energetic, and eager to please. you love to play fight and go outdoors.
but that’s neither here or there, really. satoru knows it’s wrong.. perverse to stick his cock in you even if you’re in heat. your tight little cunt is visibly dripping, pulsating for something to fill it right up like a fucking plug. he’s your master, right? you don’t understand why he’s hesitating so much but in your simple little mind, you don’t think about the nuisances that come with having sex in humans. it’s already viewed as taboo to own a hybrid in today’s society. he’d just be fitting out the stereotype.
gojo isn’t a pervert.
but how can he say no when you’re pawing at his crotch, sniffing his scent with a shaky whine in your throat? you’re just a precious and you’re begging for it— but he soon realizes you’re starting to beg for a knot he just doesn’t have. it disappoints him a tad bit that he can’t satisfy you in a truly primal way. so he fucks you until you’ve passed out from exhaustion and he’s shooting blanks. too much pleasure turns into pain after a while.
so he tells you he’s gonna get you some yucky pills that are supposed to “help” by suppressing your heats monthly.
but satoru can’t help but to think about the memory of how sloppy, hot and wet your cunt felt around him— he’s never had a cunt so good before. maybe he’d opt in for a more.. “natural” way of getting you through your heats..
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hungharrington · 15 days
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Ok hear me out casual intimacy with Steve!! Like imagine the first time u shower together and u just wash his hair for him! The first time u change in front of him or wen ur wearing an oversized t shirt and like skimpy panties and go over to the couch where he is and sit in his lap it's the moments where it's such so much trust and love low key him realizing how comfy u are around him and how much u trust him he gets turned on
Brushing ur teeth together at his place? Man is half hard already
ohooooo casual intimacy IS his turn on you’re so goddamn right — this is just like, sweet domesticity <3 and steve then gets turned on by it hehehe + fade to black smut
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There had been a period of time after you got together where Steve sometimes wondered if you were ever going to properly relax around him. Like truly relax.
Not that he minded in the least! Watching you avert your gaze nervously, feeling your face glow all hot when he calls you honey, feeling the little tremble in your fingers when you hold his hand— Steve adores it all.
He knows it means you like him. And Steve likes you too.
He likes you a whole bunch— like a lot a lot, okay? In fact, if he probably told you how much he likes you, you’d probably melt and hide under the covers and never return. Which Steve doesn’t ever want.
So you’re a bit reserved and Steve’s still crazy for you and it works. But basically, he never really expected to get this.
“D’ya wanna, like, maybe, shower together?”
Steve blinks, his towel in one hand and his heart pounding in his chest. Did you just say that? He blinks again, just to be sure.
You’re staring at him from your place on his bed, probably being the bravest you’ve ever been considering what you’ve just asked him.
“Yeah- yes. Of course.” He stammers out before you can get too shy on him. “I’ll go get another towel.”
It doesn’t take long for him to snag another from the linen cupboard but by the time he’s back, he can hear the spray of the shower. You’ve left a trail of clothes leading up to it. Something warm stirs in his chest.
He doesn’t make a big deal about it and you seem grateful for it. Beyond the odd complaint about hogging the water, to which Steve sticks his tongue out at you before switching, it’s almost like an ordinary shower. Washing up, wetting his hair.
Except, y’know, til you offer to wash it.
I swear to god do not get a boner right now, Steve thinks desperately to himself, his head ducked down so you could reach it more easily. You’re not making it easy for him. You’re paying him so much attention, your fingertips soothing along his scalp as you lather up the shampoo, massaging the skin. It’s heaven.
Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you this relaxed whilst the two of you have no clothes on.
You’ve been trying not to be so iffy about being naked but honestly Steve didn’t care if you were forever. He likes you any way he can get you.
Usually, the lead up to sex is the only time Steve gets to see you naked— when it’s all charged air and an eager energy to start making each other feel good. Hot kisses and a feverish vision of pleasure.
But this… this is different. There’s no charged energy, just a low buzz of love.
You cup your hands over his eyes so shampoo doesn’t get in them when you tilt his head back to rinse it and Steve nearly cries then and there. He’s never been so happy to return a favour, letting you lean up against him as he soaps up your hair. He’s pretty sure your eyes are closed the whole time. It feels good, taking care of you. It makes him happy.
Afterward, as you towel off, Steve keeps expecting that familiar shyness to creep in.
He’s not watching, okay? But as he gets himself dressed, just in his pyjama pants, it doesn’t go unnoticed that you’re not scrambling to cover up. Instead, you’re at ease, slipping on your panties and then one of his own large t-shirts. You must’ve stolen it when he wasn’t in the room.
It makes him pause, a momentary gawk, before he remembers to close his mouth. You catch the end of it and a flustered expression crosses your face, as if realising how much you’re exposing yourself. And that just won’t do— so Steve remedies it with a kiss, dragging you over to him by the waist so he can lean up against the counter and kiss you sweetly.
You both have wet hair. Your skin is all dewey from the shower and your eyelashes look extra long when they’re wet. You’re fucking beautiful.
It’s all Steve can think as you both brush your teeth in the mirror— making eye contact every couple of seconds and grinning like goofballs. It’s not productive. Steve adores it.
You’re both half-dressed, you without pants and Steve without his shirt, and it’s so damn homey, so cozy, so in love, that it makes Steve’s chest a little tight, in a good way. It’s intimate. You trust him.
Oh my god, He thinks. You trust him.
His pants grow tight. The flimsy material of his pyjamas hide nothing. Steve holds one hand in front of his crotch and looks to the ceiling for strength, because there’s no way you won’t be able to notice.
You lean over and spit out your toothpaste and then look at him through the mirror.
“Steve?”
“Yah?” He gargles back, toothbrush still in his mouth, eyes still on ceiling. His cock thickens a little more in his pants, blood getting a little hotter.
“Are you…?”
He gives a big sigh through his nose, “Yah.”
He finally forces himself to met your eyes through the mirror and you’re… smiling? Almost mischievously. Oh god.
“Because… of the teeth brushing?”
Steve rolls his eyes but the embarrassed flush on his cheeks still gives him away. He leans over and spits his toothpaste, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“No, not cos of the— well, not just cos of the—“ He cuts himself off, the blush on his face beginning to spread down his neck. “Look, you washed my hair and you’re not wearing any pants! We’re brushing our teeth together! I like it, okay?”
In a complete reversal of the usual, suddenly Steve’s the flustered one and you’re the cool, calm one. Your smile only grows at his explanation, some of the mischief exchanging for fondness.
“That’s okay,” You say softly. You press up on your toes to kiss his cheek and wander towards the door. “Do you wanna cuddle tonight?”
Steve’s cock gets harder at your words and he groans, because he knows you know what you’re doing— especially when you laugh a little, a cheeky sound. You’re playing into his in-love fantasy, his domestic dream, that somehow has a direct line to his dick now, which is probably most definitely a problem for later.
“You know I do.”
“Well, c’mon then, loverboy,” You coo.
Steve chases you from the bathroom all the way to his sheets, your laughter louder and more beautiful than anything.
And he does get his cuddles —y’know, after he fucks your brains out.
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cntloup · 1 month
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18+ MDNI Continuation to this Price's Bratty Daughter!Reader x Ghost
After a while, you start to feel some sort of attachment to him, your gaze fixating on him more often, your touches lingering... and of course he notices considering how observant he is. 
And unbeknownst to you, he feels the same. But it’s not right. He’s afraid he won’t be able to give you what you desire. Sex is one thing, and love is another. He's a broken man. And he will break you too if you ever get too close. 
So he tries to keep his distance. And he gets rougher in bed, trying to detach all his feelings from his actions. He's got you in a headlock as he relentlessly rams his thick cock into your tight sopping pussy, thinking that you’re just a spoiled brat who needs to be taught a lesson. 
And of course, he cums inside you again, releasing pearly beads of his cum in your womb, mixing with your cream and leaking out of your abused puffy pussy. 
And unbeknownst to him, you’ve stopped taking your pills for a while, thinking maybe with a baby, you could get him closer to you, receiving some sort of affection, something at least resembling love from him. 
When you announce your pregnancy, he’s kind of shocked since last time he checked, you were on the pills. But he’s also relieved, “About time...” he mumbles under his breath. 
He'd love to knock that bratty attitude out of you. Maybe you start to act more mature now that you’re pregnant. 
Also his feelings for you were unbearable as it was, and he was planning to finally confess long before you told him that you were pregnant. But he always backed out at the last second, keeping his emotions sealed off. He's not good for you, he always thought.
But now the thought of your belly swollen with his baby has made him absolutely feral and he can’t keep away from you anymore. 
Eventually, he starts to open up and be more affectionate towards you. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he was cold and distant with you in your fragile state. That's what he tries to tell himself, thinking this is not him showing his love to you, but only being considerate. 
Once Price finds out that Ghost has knocked you up, he’s furious. But then you tell your dad that you love Ghost and you wanna keep the baby, and he wouldn’t deny his baby girl her love and happiness now, would he? 
He begins to think it’s better that it’s Ghost than any of those flimsy boys who always chase you around. Eventually he gets into the idea of you two being together. 
Under one condition. You should get married. Ghost is a man who can set you straight. And especially now with a baby on the way, you will finally mature. It's basically perfect for him. 
So Ghost starts to think that he may be actually good for you, now that your dad approves. He's perfectly capable of protecting you, also putting you in your place when you act up.
That’s when finally, Simon comes around and tells you he loves you after a night of passion in which he surprisingly was gentler than before. 
“I love you.” he murmurs while panting heavily above you, sweat dripping down his forehead, strands of blonde hair sticking to his skin.
You think that you haven’t heard correctly since you’re still lost in your post-climactic haze. But as you gaze into his gorgeous brown eyes, burning love evident in them, you know that you heard right.  
“Really?” you grin, tears prickling the corner of your eyes, “Yeah. I fuckin’ love you.” “I love you too, Simon.” and he kisses you oh, so lovingly, completely in contrast to his previous kisses that were fiery and rough. 
On your wedding night, he gently removes your lingerie and lays you on the bed. Your baby bump is slightly visible and you lightly nuzzle your palm on it instinctively. 
He tenderly trails sweet open-mouthed kisses on your skin, until he reaches just above your tummy and kisses the back of your palm before removing your hand and kissing your belly, “I’ll be gentle, lovie.” he promises, voice soft and soothing as he glares into your anxious eyes and you nod. 
He makes love to you for the first time. There's no slamming into you harshly and no bruising grasp on your hips. No, he wouldn’t do that to his sweet little wife.
There's only him softly rolling his hips into you while kissing your lovely lips and tracing his rough hands across your delicate body with feather-like touches.
He's wary of your swollen belly as he splits your tight seeping cunt open on his fat cock. There's the familiar slight sting at first which quickly fades away as pleasure begins to take its place.
He gives gentle languid thrusts as you sob and mewl under him, your nails grazing up and down his muscular back and broad shoulders.
With a soft cry of his name, the burning euphoria of your orgasm rushes through your body, “Good girl. My girl. My beautiful wife.” he praises and his low growl reaches your ears as you feel the familiar warmth filling you up.
A/N: the horny brat taming ones will come back dw :)
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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upsidedownwithsteve · 22 days
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader [4.2K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+
SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE
LESSON #1
“Oh, come on,” the guy coaxed, voice wheedling and a little slurred. 
You didn’t really know him, a friend of a friend's cousin who was visiting from out of town but he’d been cute enough to entertain five beers ago. He’d grown sloppier now, a little leery, his hand around your wrist as he udder you towards the dock that overlooked Lover’s Lake. 
You’d dug your heels in, smiling through your teeth as you shook your head and tried not to spill the cheap wine Robin had brought down the front of your shirt. The small beach that was hidden in a cove was surrounded by trees, green in the summer, full and making the crescent moon strip of land perfect for a bonfire and for some drinking. 
There were small crowds of people all over the sandy patch, sitting on blankets and cheap camping chairs, familiar faces lit by the small fire, people you didn’t know as well lingering between, bare feet on the edge of the shoreline. 
You’d came with Eddie, riding in the front seat of his van with a rucksack full of corner store liquor on your lap, the smell of weed coming off strong from the pocket inside his leather jacket. 
“A night full of potential clients, sweetheart, please,” he’d pleaded with you, brown button eyes wide. “The Jacksons have their cousins over from the backass of Georgia, they’ll pay for the rest of our summer if I show them the good shit.”
So you’d agreed, albeit grudgingly, letting your best friend haul you off your sofa and to the get together that you didn’t really want to go to. But Robin was there, and Nancy too, a few people you hadn’t seen since senior year, back for the summer to visit their folks and well - it wasn't all bad. 
Then the evening faded into night and the lavender skies turned inky, the same shade as the lake water. And when people got a little looser, whisky and bud light warming their veins, they laughed as they stripped down to mismatched underwear and dove off the dock, splashing and shrieking in water you couldn’t see the bottom of and god—
You’d, grimaced, turning away from the shoreline and sticking close to Eddie, the boy’s arm always brushing your own even when he was busy dealing, twenties fisted in his hand as he passed over baggies to a twenty something girl you’d never seen before. 
But then that guy found you, relatively sober and sweet until he wasn’t, sloppy with his arm around your neck, breath smelling like smoke and beer and he was pulling you towards the people in the water, telling you it was all part of the fun. You’d protested immediately, intensely, eyes wide as the water came closer and your feet hit the wooden planks of the dock. 
Between the gaps, you could see black, dark water rippling, the moon overhead glinting white off the tips of the current. Eddie hadn’t noticed you were gone until the stranger had dragged you half way down the decking. Your wrist burned from how tight he held it, how hard you tried to twist it from his grasp. 
“Hey— hey!” Eddie had barked out, loud and brash and aggressive enough to make a lot of people around him startle. He broke free from the circle that had gathered around him, lips set in a snarl and determination in his eyes. You knew fine well that when Eddie got his hands on this guy, it wasn’t going to be pretty. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Let her fucking go—”
But Eddie couldn’t reach you in time, not when his boots dug too deep into the sand and there were too many people to push out of the way. The guy laughed at a joke you weren’t a part of and then he pushed. 
Your arms swung wildly, windmilling as gravity took over, your balance gone and you were too near the edge of the dock to do anything about it. Your hands grabbed at the air, fingertips just brushing your new acquaintances shirt and his grinning face and beer blurred eyes were the last thing you saw before you back hit the water. 
It was as dark underneath the surface of the lake as it was above it, an icy shock despite how warm the day had been, how the heat still lingered in the night. You gasped, immediately inhaling, murky water filling your mouth and throat and you kicked, hoping that the direction your hands were clawing in was up. 
But nothing happened and your body didn’t move. 
On the beach, people were murmuring, too drunk to consider the consequences, too stoned to fly into action. Besides, only seconds had passed. Bubbles were floating in the spot you’d gone under, ripples evidence of the fact that you’d once been there. Eddie was sweating, shoving at people as he ripped off his leather jacket and prepared to vault himself onto the water after you but someone at the bottom of the deck beat him to it. 
Steve Harrington had dropped his beer at the first sign of the commotion, his part in the conversation with Jonathan Byers and his friend from California dying off as he turned to watch a guy he didn’t know drag you down the dock. The stranger had been laughing but you hadn’t, and before he could say something, Steve only had a second to look at the absolute horror on your face before you were forced backwards and into the lake. 
He was on his feet immediately, facing back up the dock to where you’d disappeared from, watching wildly for signs of you returning to the surface. And then Eddie was yelling at him, pushing past some underage kids from out of town, half of his jacket hanging from his shoulders and he was yelling. 
“Steve! Steve, she can’t fuckin’ swim, man—”
If Eddie finished the sentence or said anything else, Steve didn’t hear it. He launched himself off of the side, hitting the cold water with a splash he didn’t hear. Water filled his ears and fuck, he could barely see. But somewhere a little below him there was a flash of white from your shirt that had tangled itself up around your neck, your arms flailing wildly as you tried your damn hardest to kick up the way. 
Steve had grabbed your arm, your panic making you slip before he curled his fingers around your wrist and then you were being hauled against him, your back to his chest as he moved with a confidence you could never imagine for yourself. You’d been under for a minute, maybe a little more, maybe a little less, but Steve had your head breaking the surface of the lake in seconds. You were gasping and coughing, your fingernails tattooing half moon lines in Steve’s forearm as you held onto him, fear gripping you as hard as you did him. 
You thought you’d heard his voice, a low murmur in your ear that was fuzzy from the water lodged there, from the buzz and clamour that had then awoken on the beach as the music stopped and people were gathered by the shoreline. 
Eddie had been knee deep in the water, readily meeting you and Steve as the boy swam closer with you, and once your feet hit the sandy bottom, you lurched forward, hands held out to grab Eddie’s waiting ones. 
Steve’s were on your back, keeping you upright and steady until he saw that Eddie had you. You and Steve were both dripping and Eddie was swearing, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, unsure whether to rush you to his van first or hunt down the creep that had put you in danger in the first place. 
But Nancy was rushing forward with a blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders and taking in your chattering teeth and panicked stare, the vice-like grip you had around Eddie’s fingers. “He’s gone,” she said to the boy. “He ran off when he saw Steve dive in. Just get her home, Eddie.”
Steve Harrington had ended up in the front bench with you in Eddie’s van, your shivering frame sandwiched between both boy’s and no one said anything until you all got back to Eddie’s trailer. 
You hadn’t said anything as you’d headed for a hot shower, your wet clothes slapping on the bathroom tiles as you had stripped, slimy weeds and grains of sand stuck to your cold skin and your hands were still shaking as you twisted the squeaky handle to turn the water up hotter still. 
And when Eddie was ripping his room apart for dry clothes for you and Steve to change into, his eyes watery with anger, his throat tight with rage, Steve had been leaning against his door frame with his arms crossed over his damp chest.  
“We’ll get him,” he’d said quietly, just in case you could hear above the spluttering of the old pipes. “We’ll find out who he was and— and we’ll deal with him and then I’m gonna teach her how to swim, alright?”
Eddie nodded, movements sharp and jerky and he handed Steve a pair of black sweatpants and an old Metallica shirt. 
“Alright?” Steve had repeated, chin ducked to make Eddie meet his gaze. He had been so serious. “I’m gonna give her lessons. This won’t happen again.”
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The sky was still half pink as you biked down the empty sidewalk. 
A blue-lilac colour, softer than you’d usually witness due to the early morning hour. The sun was still low, the town still asleep, the watch on your wrist telling you the seven am was still to come. Your bike chain whirred softly, brakes squeaking as you slowed by the chain link fence. 
Hawkins community pool was sun bleached and well loved, the old bunting that draped over the water barely red and blue, the shutters for the food stand still rolled down and locked. The aquamarine slide was now more white and it looked like it would give you an infection if your skin was to snag on one of the exposed bolts. But the gate was open, only just, and you sucked in a deep breath as you let your bike lean against the wall. 
Chlorine filled your nose as you walked in, the generator humming and the pool filter trickling, the sun loungers empty and still stacked against the changing rooms. Despite your early wake up call, the air was already warm, a humid kind of heat that Indiana summers brought, sticky and sweet smelling, like someone had left a jug of peach tea on their porch all day. 
The tiles that surrounded the pool were wet, recently hosed down and cleaned, and your sneakers slapped noisily as you walked towards the waters edge. You didn’t go too close, not at all, grimacing at the bright blue rectangle like it would force you in itself. It seemed somehow more menacing when it was still, a glasslike surface reflecting the cotton candy sky above it, no splashing and screaming kids to fill its depths. 
Then a boy appeared - no, more man than boy - from the staff building. 
He had red shorts on, the fabric sitting above his knees and an old white shirt that you assumed must’ve once said “lifeguard.” He was barefoot and tanned, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and he didn’t even notice you at first, too busy hanging a net back onto the wall. 
Steve Harrington was pretty and tall and he had really good hair. He was quieter than when you’d know him in high school, softer looking than he’d once been. But you didn’t really know him and he didn’t really know you. But he was friends with Eddie and you were friends with Eddie, so somehow, someway, that meant you were kind of, almost friends with him too. 
Except you weren’t and you had no idea why you’d agreed to this. 
“You can change in there.”
You hadn’t expected his voice, so you startled, arms wrapping tighter around your body and crushing the small rucksack that housed your suit and towel. You frowned at the idea, because changing meant one step closer to going into the water and you weren’t quite sure you wanted to do that yet. 
So you said nothing.
Steve just watched you from across the pool, brows raised. And then he shrugged and muttered something that sounded like “suit yourself,” before he threw his sunglasses onto a plastic chair and tugged his shirt over his head. 
You’d barely gotten a chance to really look at the quick flash of tanned, bare skin he exposed before he dove into the water, barely causing a ripple. You were slack jawed as you watched him move seamlessly below the surface, his body a pretty shade of blue as his muscles flexed, strong back and broad shoulders stretching as he swam. 
When he reappeared, much closer to you, Steve braced his forearms on the edge of the pool and dragged a hand through his wet hair, strands of it plastered to his forehead, water clinging to his lashes. 
You didn’t know where to look. 
“You’re not going to learn much if you don’t take your clothes off.”
Despite the way his words warmed you, skin heating up the same way the morning was, you scowled. You didn’t want to be here. Not at the pool, not around water, not with Steve Harrington and certainly not at seven in the morning on a Saturday. 
And now you were standing under the morning sun and the same boy that saved you from the lake was squinting up at you from the pool below and you were only really here because Eddie had begged you. 
It had been a whole week and you could still taste lake water on the back of your tongue. 
“Changing rooms are over there,” Steve motioned to the building behind you with a tilt of his head.
You tried not to look at him, or the water, when you nodded tightly, dragging yourself off to the ladies section. And when you came back out, the sun had risen just a little more and Steve was still in the pool, floating easily on his back as he used his arms to move slowly around the water. The rays were glinting off of the water and him, toned shoulders and soft stomach glittering with water droplets and suddenly the pool seemed an even scarier place to be. 
The old swimsuit you’d managed to pull on was a little on the tight side, all black and supposed to be modest if the too small size hasn’t been cutting into the swells of your ass and chest. It had been a good few years since you’d had reason to put it on, and even then, you hadn’t gone near water. A beach day on the Fourth of July with enough space between you and the ocean that you hadn’t even minded the sand too much. 
So you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, trying to hide the expanse of skin there, your knees pressed together and you looked downright mournful about your current predicament. If Steve hadn’t remembered the fear in your eyes that night in the lake as you scrambled for him under the water, he would’ve cracked a joke or two. 
Instead, he swam over to you cautiously, fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swiped his wet hair from his forehead. “Hey,” he began gently. The town still hadn’t woken up yet, not really. It was just Steve’s voice and the hum of the pool filter, some cicadas buzzing in a bush behind the far side of the fence. “Nothing bad is going to happen, alright? Not here.”
You looked at him like you didn’t believe him, eyes wide and lips drawn into a tight line. You didn’t move an inch. And it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, not really. You were exactly friends but Steve was close with Eddie and if Eddie trusted him— well. He got an automatic pass from you too. 
Eddie didn’t trust a whole lot of people. 
But the problem wasn’t Steve. It was most definitely the rectangle full of blue water, shimmering and pretty as it was, it looked deep, the slope of it going downdowndown and Steve’s body was distorted under the ripples, his legs looking broken and mangled, the surface lapping way too high across his shoulders and neck. 
Your body felt like lead, a dead weight ready to sink to the pool floor, legs unable to push yourself back up. 
You took a step back. 
“Okay,” Steve sighed and he tried really hard to not sound impatient. The day had barely begun and he’d make a promise to Eddie, one he really didn’t want to break. “We’ll take it back a little, yeah? Come over here.” 
You watched as he pulled himself out of the pool with an impressively low amount of effort. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched up and he swung a leg onto the tiles before standing, water dripping off of him, cool and splashing your toes. He made a point of not looking at your and all your bare skin as he walked around the edge of the pool, right towards the back of the lot where there was a set of stairs that led into the shallow end. 
He didn’t look over his shoulder to check if you were following and you only hesitated for a second or two before you did. And when he reached the top of the steps, he waited for you and held out his hand, brows raised expectantly. 
You stared back. 
The water didn’t look as scary here, but not by a whole bunch. It was lighter blue, the white tiles on the bottom of the pool about more visible and the numbers that were flaking and painted on the side of the wall said the depth was only two and a half feet. 
You could drown in less, the voice in your head told you. It sounded a lot like your mom. 
So you kept your arms crossed for a little while longer, teeth gnawing unkindly at your bottom lip. Steve just waited, hand extended palm up and after a minute had passed, he took one step into the pool, standing ankle deep in the water on the top stair. He caught your eye then, smiling in what he hope was a reassuring way. 
“D’you trust me?” He asked, eyes squinting in the bright sun. There was a mole on his cheek that disappeared into the lines of his skin when he smiled. “S’okay if you don’t yet, but, I’m a lifeguard here, so like, legally? I can’t let you die.”
You surprised both yourself and the boy when you snorted unexpectedly, a sharp sound of amusement that you used a hand to cover up. But it seemed to encourage Steve, ‘cause he positively beamed at you, his hand wiggling, vying for your own. 
“C’mon, I promise I won’t let you go,” he swore. He leaned further forward, his fingers close enough to brush the softness of your stomach, if he so pleased. He didn’t. “We’ll start nice and easy today, alright?”
It felt momentous, when you slid your hand into his. He was still warm despite his pool damp skin, like the sun lived inside his bones. He grinned, victorious, nodding encouragingly when you moved to the edge of the steps. 
“We’ll do them one at a time, alright?” Steve moved to stand in front of you, his other hand catching your free one until he was guiding you closer and closer to the water, walking himself backwards with every step you took forward. You flinched when your foot hit the first step, the water warmer than you’d anticipated, brushing up just past your ankle. 
You had two feet in the pool and two hands in Steve Harrington’s and it felt like the entire world was about to implode on you. 
“There you go,” Steve murmured, warmth and a little hum of pride in his voice. “See? S’not bad, right? I’ve still got you.” So you took another step and another and suddenly the water was lapping at your knees. You froze, grip tightening around Steve’s fingers and your wide eyes found his, all too aware of the way you were very much in the pool now. 
“Hey, hey,” Steve’s thumbs rubbed over the back of your knuckles, the skin there burning from holding him so tightly. “Listen. Do you trust me?”
There was no joke that followed the question this time. His eyes were earnest and warm, serious as they looked at you, searching your face for any signs that you were going to flee. It took you a few seconds, swallowing dryly and taking a deep, staggering breath before you nodded. You did, you did trust him, and that was as surprising as you being in the pool. 
“Yeah,” you told Steve, voice a little weak and hoarse. “Yeah, I trust you.”
He squeezed your fingers and his smile was gentle, an achingly kind thing that made your eyes water in the corners and Steve let you stand on that middle step for a little while longer. “Good,” he finally said and his voice was as soft as yours had been. You tried not to look at the way the chain around his throat caught the sunlight, the silver turning golden, just like his skin. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”
You nodded, feverish and your movements jagged and you tore your eyes from Steve to look at your bare feet on the steps, your toes waving under the ripples, longer and skinnier and then fatter and wider. The sight made you dizzy, stomach tumbling a little but even still, you wished you’d had the forethought to paint your toenails something pretty. 
“Two more steps, alright?” 
Steve’s encouragement broke your senseless wanderings and you nodded again, words caught in your throat and he was leading you forward, hands wrapped around your own and he grinned when you took another step down, the water hitting your upper thighs. It was cooler as you went deeper, a stark contrast to the warm, sticky air above it and your skin prickled, mouth falling in a quiet gasp. Another step, happening almost too fast for you to overthink it, the water at your hips and making you swear as you rose onto your toes almost instinctively. 
Steve laughed, not unkindly, as you moved closer to him, unthinking as your hands left his in favour of clinging to his upper arms. It felt safer like that, anchoring yourself to his solid frame, but there was so much bare skin involved and not a lot of space left between you both as you held on for dear life. His fingertips brushed the sides of your waist before he must’ve thought better of it, cheeks burning before his hands cupped your elbows and he took a little step back so your chest didn’t touch his. 
“You’re alright,” he murmured. “You did it, yeah? That’s it. You’re in.”
Steve was grinning and you tried to smile too, trying to feel proud of your little accomplishment but the rest of the pool was stretched out behind Steve’s shoulder and the water there was so much more blue, cerulean leading into indigo until you couldn’t see the bottom anymore. 
Steve must’ve noticed cause he shook his head, the hand cupping your elbow smoothing up your arm until he squeezed, water dripping from his palms and coasting down your skin. “Hey, hey, none of that. That’s for another day. We’re staying here, alright?”
You grimaced at the idea of ‘another day,’ but his words still didn’t ease you. You licked at your lips, dots of chlorine on them and despite how stupid you felt, you asked anyway. “What if— what if l, like, float over that way? Accidentally.”
Steve smiled like he couldn’t help himself, laughter in his eyes and a grin that he quickly tamed. “We’re not gonna catch any waves in here, this isn’t Maui,” he was still smiling, teasing, just a little. But sensing your growing worry, he continued. “And if that had to happen - which it won’t - I’ll come and get you.”
You stared at him, heartbeat in your throat and so many other questions on your tongue. They died there, fizzing into nothing as Steve held your gaze, a silent promise in his brown eyes. You’d never noticed how long and thick his lashes were, still wet and spiky from when he’d been swimming as you changed. 
Maybe there was doubt in your eyes, or maybe Steve just felt the need to reiterate his statement, but when he said once more, “I’ll come get you, just like last time,” you really did believe him. 
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