witchyi300

Latest Posts by witchyi300

can you pleaseeee write type of guy for gi hun? bro is underrated in his own show 😔🙏

The Kind Of Guy

Seong Gi-hun

SFW

—Gi-hun is the kind of guy who falls in love with kindness and personality, drawn to the way someone makes him feel seen and understood. It's not about looks or grand gestures for him—it's the little things, the quiet moments that reveal a person’s true heart. He admires how you treat others with warmth and kindness, how your laughter can light up a room, and how your compassion extends even to those who may not deserve it.

He’s captivated by your authenticity, your ability to stay true to yourself in a world that often demands conformity. The way you listen intently when he speaks, offering gentle advice without judgment, leaves a lasting impression on him.

Gi-hun isn’t easily won over by surface-level charm; what matters most to him is how you make him feel—safe, valued, and loved for who he truly is. He would slowly become captivated by you, his love for you deepening as he watches you simply be yourself. There’s something about your genuine nature that pulls him in more with each passing day.

—If Gi-hun was tired from work, he’d be the kind of guy who just wanted to be wrapped up in your warmth. He’d quietly rest his head on your thighs or lap, finding comfort in your presence alone.

Sometimes, he’d drape his entire body over yours, seeking solace in the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. Nothing made him feel more at peace than when your fingers ran through his hair, your soft touch melting away his exhaustion. A tender kiss on his forehead would be the final thing to undo him, leaving him weak and completely at ease.

In those moments, with his worries fading and your arms around him, he’d fall into a deep, contented sleep, feeling safe and loved like never before.

—If life became too overwhelming and you came running to him, Gi-hun would immediately pull you into his arms, holding you tightly as if shielding you from the world. He’d gently pet your hair, his touch soothing and filled with love.

He’d press soft kisses to your temple and wipe away your tears, his fingers carefully brushing your hair out of your face. Looking deeply into your eyes, he’d whisper, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.” while cupping your face with his hands. And with that, he’d kiss your forehead, grounding you with his warmth and reassurance, making you feel like everything would be alright as long as he was by your side.

—Gi-hun adores when you sit on his lap, the weight of you resting gently against him as if you were meant to be there. He looks up at you with a soft, almost reverent gaze, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment—your eyes, the curve of your smile, the way your presence seems to calm his restless heart.

His hands find their way to your waist or thighs, a subtle gesture of possessiveness mixed with tenderness, as he pulls you in a little closer, savoring the closeness. He doesn’t need words in moments like these; just the warmth of your body against his and the quiet intimacy between you two is enough. He knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, holding the one person who makes everything feel right.

—If he had the means, he’d spoil you with everything you could ever dream of. No wish would be too small or too big; if it made you happy, he’d make sure you had it. Whether it’s a simple treat or an extravagant gift, nothing would stop him from seeing that smile on your face, because making you happy is his greatest joy.

—His age might be a little older, but not by too much—just enough for him to carry that sense of maturity and wisdom that comes with experience. He would treat you right in every way, with a gentleness that made you feel cherished. Whether it was peeling oranges for you, slicing apples with care, or making sure you felt like royalty, he'd always go the extra mile to make you feel special. He would treat you like a princess, and in turn, you'd feel like a queen in his presence.

—So imagine being in his arms, both of you just there—naked not in body but in the vulnerability of the moment. There’s no rush, no need for anything more, just the simple act of caressing each other, feeling the warmth of your skin against his while soft whispers will fill the space between you. He craves the connection that goes beyond desire, cherishing your raw presence, the way you make him feel whole just by being near him. The simplicity of it all, the quiet affection, would be enough to fill both your hearts.

—If you drift off to sleep on the couch, he would gently lift you in his arms, carrying you upstairs to your bed. With tender care, he'd lay you down and tuck you in snugly beneath a warm blanket, making sure you’re comfortable before quietly leaving the room.

—If you were feeling down, he’d do everything he could to lift your spirits. He’d grab a silly mask, crack a joke, or pull a funny face just to see you smile. When he asked what was wrong and you shared your worries, he’d pull you into a warm embrace, holding you close as he whispered nothing but reassuring words into your ears.

He's the kind of guy who justs wants is to be next to you—your hands locked together, your legs comfortably tangled. He wants your face nestled in his neck, the rhythm of your breathing the only sound in the quiet room.

He wants to feel you stir, mumbling, “I’m so tired,” so he can softly whisper, “Go back to sleep,” holding you closer as you drift off again.

He dreams of those peaceful early mornings, lying beside you in the stillness, maybe reading a book while you rest. Or maybe just running his fingers gently through your hair, watching over you as a soft smile tugs at his lips, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

—He would, will, and IS going to love you bare and raw—unfiltered and unapologetic, accepting every part of you. No pretenses, no facades, just the real, unpolished version of who you are. He would love you with the same vulnerability, never asking you to hide any part of yourself.

In his arms, you’d feel like you could be completely yourself, exposed and imperfect, but cherished all the same. His love would be unconditional, free from judgment, because in his eyes, you are perfect just as you are.

—If he saw you joining the game with him, absolute terror would wash over him. The moment his eyes locked with yours, knowing you'd willingly entered a nightmare he had already endured, his heart would race in panic. He’d grab your shoulders, eyes wide with fear, demanding, “Why are you here?!” His voice would crack, trying to make sense of it all, his only concern now being to get you out of this mess.

He’d scold you, his tone harsh with worry, “What were you thinking!? This isn’t just a game!” His words would come from a place of raw fear, a desperate attempt to push you away from the danger that loomed. His fear would intensify, each second passing a terrifying reminder of what this game could cost.

He would do anything—anything at all—to get you out of there. The thought of losing you, of seeing you hurt, would tear him apart. He couldn’t lose you; he just couldn’t. A part of him would feel like it was slipping away, that his very soul was in jeopardy. His heart would be racing, consumed by the fear of a future without you. No, no—he couldn’t lose you. He would be scared in ways he never knew he could be, completely helpless, yet still trying to protect you at all costs.

—If Gi Hun had a crush on you, he’d be a mess trying to hide it. He’d stutter a little over his words, his sentences barely making sense as he tried to keep his composure. When he was around you, he’d find it impossible to focus, his mind racing in a million directions. He’d try his best to play it cool, but his nervousness would be all too obvious. The way his cheeks would flush, the small awkward laughs, and the way he couldn’t meet your eyes for too long would give him away.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t handle being around you without his feelings spilling out. His every attempt to act casual would fail, and deep down, he’d be embarrassed, but he couldn’t help it. You had him completely flustered, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, he’d always end up wearing his heart on his sleeve.

—When faced with dangerous people, he would immediately step in front of you, positioning himself as a shield. His instincts would be to protect you at all costs, and he’d put himself between you and any threat, no hesitation in his movements. He would hide you behind his back, ensuring that you were out of harm’s way, his body acting as the barrier to keep you safe.

—When Gi Hun confesses to you, it would be a heartfelt moment that he’s carefully planned out, even if his nerves are getting the best of him. He’d send you a text or a letter asking you to meet him at a specific place, and when you arrived, you’d find him standing there, waiting for you. His eyes would light up as soon as he saw you, a spark of excitement and love shining through, though he’d be hiding something behind his back, his nervousness mixed with anticipation.

He’d take a deep breath before speaking, his voice filled with sincerity as he gave you a long, heartfelt explanation. He’d tell you why he likes you, why he fell in love with you—how your kindness, your smile, the way you light up his world, all made him realize just how much you meant to him. It would be a genuine, vulnerable confession, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

Finally, after pouring his heart out, he’d take a step closer to you, holding out the things you love—small tokens of thoughtfulness, gestures that show how much he’s paying attention to the little things about you. With a nervous yet hopeful look, he’d finally ask you out if you want to be his.

You’d be standing there, overwhelmed by his honesty and the sweetness of the moment, in awe and shock, but without a doubt, your heart would race as you say “Yes.”

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll wander into the kitchen just to be close to you. He’d wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing his face into the curve of your neck to breathe in your scent, his embrace warm and unyielding. He’d nuzzle you gently, turning you around to face him with that look in his eyes—hungry, not just for food, but for you.

Even as soap dripped from your hands, he wouldn’t care. He’d guide your hands to his hair, leaning into your touch, and silently begging for your kiss. In his world, no moment was too mundane for intimacy; even standing in the kitchen, you were the center of his hunger, his affection, his everything.

NSFW

—Steamy shower sex is one of Jun Ho's absolute favorites, and he revels in every moment of it with you. Water drips down your skin, warm and relentless, as your bodies collide with a fervor that borders on desperate. The heat between you burns hotter than the steam surrounding you, and Gi Hun pulls you closer, his chest pressed firmly against yours.

Your back meets the cold tiles with a sharp gasp, the chill a perfect contrast to the fire coursing through your veins. Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, locking him in place as if the space between you could ever be enough. Your arms drape over his shoulders, hands buried in his damp hair, tugging gently, urging him closer still.

His hands are everywhere, tracing your curves, memorizing your body like a sacred scripture he’s afraid to forget. His lips would come crashing into yours, urgent and consuming, tasting every part of you he can claim.

—He loves the feeling of your bare skin against his, the intimacy of having you completely, utterly his. Every curve, every line of your body only deepens his admiration, leaving him in awe of the woman he’s so lucky to call his. As he moves with you, his hands trace your face with reverence, his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every expression, every breath, every sound, and every moan you make.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice heavy with a mix of passion and disbelief, “you’re so beautiful baby, my beautiful wife.” His gaze lingered on you with an intensity that spoke of his love, each moment deepening as he continued to hit your sweet spot. Then, drawing closer, he leaned in to taste you once more, savoring every sensation.

—In bed, Gi hun would never resort to calling you derogatory names like 'slut' or 'whore.' That’s just not the kind of man he is, and you are not that type of woman. Instead, he showers you with sweet pet names—'sweetheart,' 'princess,' 'baby' 'angel'— and praises you as he makes love to you.

—Gi-hun wouldn't even realize he had a kink until you whispered how good he was at making you feel pleasure. Each word dripped with desire, and the happiness washing over him was palpable—every “good boy” igniting something deep within.

“Such a good boy for me, baby haa-fuck, making me feel so good,” you moaned, arching your back. Your nails clawed at his back, the sensation driving him wild, making him groan deeply.

His ego swelled with each sound you made, compelling him to thrust harder, faster, hungry for your praise. “I want to hear you say it again,” he said, his voice laced with desperation as he struggled to maintain control. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“Hngg—you’re doing so well for me baby, haah—such a good boy, my good boy.” Your encouragement spurred him on, each thrust becoming more erratic. He focused on the visceral connection at the junction of your bodies, the creamy ring around him and the warm, slick remnants pooling onto the sheets—the evidence of your shared ecstasy driving him towards the edge once more.

“I can’t... Fuck I can’t hold back,” he stammered, the need to please you overwhelming his senses. “You’re so tight baby—you feel so good.. so fucking perfect for me.”

Profanities spilled from his lips as he fell into a primal rhythm, slamming into you from behind. The room filled with the symphony of loud squelches and the creaking of the bed under the force of his fervent thrusts.

“i love you s'much keep fucking me like that baby,” you urged, your breath ragged. His sensitivity heightened with every flutter of your walls around him, his vision blurring as black spots danced in and out of focus. A strangled moan caught in his throat as he found his release, filling you completely with his cum, the warmth spilling inside like melted marshmallows, soft and indulgent.

"haa..fuck—you feel so good baby, ’so good.” he breathed out as he rode out his climax. His arms trembling, feeling you milk every last drop from him, as he collapsed onto you, a huff escaping his lips, “Did I do good baby?”

"Mhm, You did such a good job love." a wide smile formed on his lips.

—If you take him into your mouth, he can’t help but moan loudly, lost in the intoxicating warmth of your lips and tongue. Each flick and swirl drives him wild, and he sputters curses in pure pleasure, praising how good you make him feel and how perfectly your mouth envelops him

—He’s the type of guy who fears hurting you at first, but once you tell him it’s okay, he starts off slow and gentle, relishing the feel of your dripping wet pussy around him. But as he gets lost in the thrill, his aggression takes over, and he’s pounding into you with a rougher, relentless pace, turning you into a moaning, writhing mess beneath him.

Third post in a row, if that’s not pathetic I don’t know what is. Genuinely I’m going to cry though if a woman doesn’t fuck me in about 5 seconds.

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist (Work In Progress)

I plan on doing kinktober this year, as you can read from the title! I plan on going all out and doing as many kinks as I can get to this year, so any recommendations are highly appreciated! Pretty much anything goes! The crazier the better! I made a post previously (the one before this one) with my hard no's and maybe's on it, so check that out if you want before you request anything!

Thanks for all the support!

Here is the list so far!

Menophilia ~Menstruation/Period Blood~ (Billy Loomis)

2.

3.

4.

5. Non-Con (Charles Lee Ray)

6.

7. Wax Play (Jack Sparrow)

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19. Asphyxiation ~Choking~ (The Riddler/Edward Nashton)

20. Bondage-Webs (Peter Parker)

21.

22. Masochism/Dacryphilia ~Crying~ (Chandler Bing)

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

30. Coulrophilia ~Clowns~/Piquerism ~Cutting the Body with Sharp Objects~ (Art the Clown)

31.

Kinktober Requests!

Since Kinktober is happening fairly soon (like in a few days), I want to ask for some Kinktober requests! I have a few ideas already, but am really wanting to challenge myself. So... here are some of my rules for this Kinktober (2024)!!!

Hard No's:

Anything that has to do with feces, urine, or vomit

Anything to do with animals (like, actual animals. Werewolves and stuff like that is alright)

Incest (even if it is two siblings sharing someone)

Minor/Underage Stuff (Not even just adultxminor, but minor/underage in general)

Maybe's:

Non-Con (in certain circumstances or with certain characters, but I won't write any r@pe/non-con when it comes to real people. Ex: Brian Quinn)

Yes's:

Pretty much anything else! I will write literally any kink (unless it makes me suuuupppeerrrr uncomfy) so ask away!

Tourist trap (Stan Pines x fem!reader)

minors dni

Stan is very fond of tourists who believe his stories.

tags: nsfw, smut, p in v, fingering, riding, desk sex, semi-public, praise, sir kink, rough sex

You shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wide-eyed and excited, as you clutched your little Mystery Shack brochure in your hand. It was all crumpled from being folded and unfolded too many times, but you couldn’t stop reading all the incredible things advertised on it.

"See the world-famous Sasquatch Skull up close! Touch the Alien Artifacts nobody else believes in!" 

You believed it all. Every last word. After all, you’re such a lover of the unknown.

Your group of tourists shuffles around you, mostly adults who looks really unimpressed, grumbling about the entrance fee. You’re the only one whose eyes are wide with excitement and who literally trembles from excitement to see everything the Shack have to offer. And that’s exactly what catches his eye.

Stan Pines stands in the doorway, leaning on his cane, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. You don’t notice how his eyes scans over you, how he takes in every little detail: the innocent excitement, the way you’re practically throwing your money at the gift shop already and that naive, gullible glow about you. You practically skip forward, not noticing how Stan’s eyes linger on you. He can tell right away — you aren’t just any tourist. No, you’re special. Too trustful. Sweet. The kind that believe every ridiculous thing he’d ever put on display.

And isn’t that just. . . adorable?

The tour starts and you trail behind him eagerly, eyes wide and shining as he tells stories about the various "creatures" and "relics" in the Shack. Part of you is convinced that every word is true, that you’re standing in the presence of real magic, real mystery. 

Stan notices you hanging on his every word and it makes something stir in him. The way your lips parts just a little, these little “wow” and “ohh” you make, the way your eyes follow his every move. Meanwhile other tourists roll their eyes or sigh, bored out of their minds, but not you. You’re his favorite kind of visitor — the kind that made his job fun

"So," Stan starts, turning to you with a glint in his eye as the rest of the group wanders off, "what do you think of this, doll? Pretty impressive, huh?"

You nod enthusiastically, clutching your bag of over-priced trinkets and souvenirs. "It’s amazing, sir! i can’t believe im seeing all this in real life! i mean, is the Sasquatch skull really real? And the alien artifacts, are they, like, actually from space?!"

"Well, aren’t you just the cutest little tourist I’ve ever seen,” he smiles, leaning slightly towards you and letting out a chuckle “most people come in here and they laugh it off. Say it’s all fake, but not you. You really believe in this, don’t you?”

“Yeah! ive always dreamed of visiting such a cool place! thank you, sir, it’ll remain a good memory,” you giggle.

“Ohh, sweetheart, if you’re such a fan, maybe i can show you some of the mysteries we keep hidden from the average tourists.” he absolutely loves how wide-eyed and trusting you are. You really believe every word he tells you?

Your eyes light up, completely oblivious to the hungry look in his eyes. "Really? You’d do that?"

Stan rubs his chin, pretending to think it over, though the grin never left his face. “Hmm,” he looks at you for a couple more seconds before he tells you you. “for you, dear? Anything.”

He leads you away from the main part of the Shack, down a hallway lined with dusty old portraits and broken light fixtures. You don’t even notice how quiet it is now as the rest of the tour group far behind. All you can think about was the excitement bubbling inside you, the thrill of seeing something “exclusive.”

Stan opens a creaky door at the end of the hall and motions for you to step inside. You eagerly obey, stepping into a dimly lit room filled with more strange objects, things that weren’t part of the normal tour. At least, that’s what Stan told you.

He closes the door behind him with a soft click, the two of you now alone and you never really noticed how close he suddenly got, his hand resting on your lower back as he guides you further into the room, its cluttered with strange artifacts, most of which hadn’t made it to the main display.

You’re buzzing with excitement as you look around at the dusty shelves. "Wow!" you gasped, wide-eyed. “What’s that? and that?! oh my gosh, is that a real shrunken head?!”

Stan chuckles, settling himself down in an old chair near desk before patting his lap. “Why don’t you come here, doll? I’ll give you a closer look.” there was something in his voice. . . something that should alert you, but you’re too caught up in your excitement to notice it.

Without a second thought, you plop yourself down on his lap, leaning forward to inspect the nearest artifact, still firing off a barrage of questions. "What’s this one? and where did you get it? oh god, is it really cursed?!"

Stan grunts, adjusting you a bit closer as his hands settled on your hips. He leans forward slightly, his mouth near your ear as he begins to explain some ridiculous story about the origins of the objects. But you barely notice how his fingers start to slip lower, just lightly brushing along the hem of your skirt.

You keep talking, completely oblivious, your words spilling out in an excited rush. “This is so cool! i can’t believe no one else gets to see this! i-“ your voice hitches as Stan’s hand slides further up your thigh, his thick fingers grazing the edge of your panties.

He continues talking as if nothing happens. “This here is an ancient artifact from South America. Supposedly cursed, but, eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.” he pauses, his hand gently pressing against the softness of your thigh as he keeps you pinned on his lap.

Your breath caught in your throat, but you tried to focus on his words, nodding as you squirmed a little. “W-wow, that’s- that’s so cool!” your voice breathy as Stan’s fingers brushes lightly along the edge of your panties, teasing you.

“Yeah, real cool, huh?” he asks you, still as if nothing happened, his other hand sliding up your waist to grip your side, so you wouldn’t move that much. His fingers dip lower, grazing the fabric of your panties before slipping just beneath it. “aaand this one here,” he continues, “it’s said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. Powerful stuff.”

You can barely process what he’s saying, your mind blank as his fingers lightly tease along your slit, collecting the wetness that was beginning to pool there. You shift in his lap, trying to stifle the soft whimper that escape your lips, your legs pressing together.

“Something wrong, doll?” he asks in a playful, no, mocking tone, while his fingers now lightly caressing your clit. “You seem a little distracted. Thought you wanted to hear about all these mysteries*.”

“I- I do!” you stutter. “It’s just- s-sir!”

“Just what?” Stan interrupts, his fingers now slipping lower, pressing firmly against your entrance. His other hand grips your waist, holding you firmly in place as you instinctively try to buck your hips against his hand.

You whine softly, barely able to form a coherent sentence. "I-I just. . . oh god-“

Stan smirks. “You’re so cute, sweetheart,” he nuzzles your neck, his fingers now teasing your entrance, pushing just the tip of one finger inside your throbbing cunt. “asking all these questions while sitting in my lap like a good little girl.”

You sob, your hips rocking against his hand without even realizing it. You can feel his cock, hard and pulsing beneath you, pressing against your ass, but Stan keeps his focus on you, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wetness, never stopping his stories.

“This one is said to have special. . . powers. Like it can make someone go crazy with just one touch.” he chuckles, his finger curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you gasp and clench around him.

Your head spinning, your body aching with need, completely at his mercy as he tease and play with you, all while still pretending like it was just another tour.

Stan’s smirk widens as he feels you trembling in his lap, the way you quietly moan, your face and body both hot. He keeps his voice steady, still saying some ridiculous story about the artifacts, but his fingers never stops their teasing.

“So, this piece here was said to be used in rituals. Uhh, something about unlocking a person’s deepest desires, makin’ ’em lose all sense of control.” its not difficult for him to imagine these false stories, he is an experienced lier after all. You try to listen, try to understand what he’s saying, but that’s just impossible to do as he presses his thumb harder against your needy bud, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. You whimper, barely able to focus on his words. Your body burning, every nerve ending tingling as his rough fingers stroke and tease your throbbing pussy. Your hips rock against his hand, desperate for more, but you’re too shy, too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? you were askin’ so many questions before, now you’re all quiet?” his thumb circles your clit a little bit faster and your body jolts from pleasure, a soft cry escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“I’m just-“ you stammer, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you squirm in his lap. “I c-can’t, sir, can’t think”

He chuckles, now pushing two thick fingers deep inside your tight, clenching cunt. You gasp and your back arch against him as he starts to pump them slowly, curling and scissoring his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble. What a lovely sounds you’re making.

“Aww you poor thing, so lost, huh? cant even think straight, can ya?”

You whimper, biting your lip as you try to stifle the noises that are spilling out of you, but it’s useless. Your hips are moving on their own, grinding against his hand as you clung to his shirt, “sir” and “please” leaving your mouth as his fingers stretch you so well.

“Just relax, doll, I’ll take care of you. Just listen to me.” his fingers pumped harder inside your pulsing pussy. “you wanted a tour, right?”

You nodded weakly, not even listening him, unable to focus on anything but the way his fingers were fucking into you, the wet sounds of your dripping pussy filling the small room. His thick digits stretch you open just good, making you lose your mind.

“So this here,” he continued, his voice still calm despite the way you were practically writhing in his lap, “was used by an ancient tribe. Supposedly, they thought it could help them communicate with the gods, but I think it’s more useful for somethin’ else. . . don’t you, sweetheart?”

You could only sob in response, your body trembling as his fingers drove deeper, stretching your tight walls, his thumb never leaving your poor sensitive clit, your muscles clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises as he watches you squirm in his lap, your wetness coating his fingers. “so cute, all worked up like this. You gonna cum for me, doll?” you nod , your hips bucking against his hand, his fingers thrusting deeper inside your aching cunt. Stan laughs at that pathetic sight, his fingers moving faster now, fucking you hard and deep, your pussy clenching around his digits. “Go on, princess, cum on my fingers.” you exhale when Stan finally let you finish. With a strangled cry, your body shakes, your cunt clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes rolled and brain fucking melted as you shudder in his lap.

Stan grinned, watching you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, such a good little doll for me.”

His hand rests on your breast, first slowly and gently caressing it. His fingers find your nipple and give it a light squeeze, drawing another sound from you. Stan smirks to himself as he feels you shaking in his lap, your body responding to every little touch he gave you. His fingers still buried deep inside you, moving at a slow, teasing pace that had you on edge, desperate for more. You can barely sit still, squirming against him, your breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps.

His fingers curling inside you again, and you whimper, your hips jerking in response. “You want somethin’, don’t you? you gotta tell me what you need, doll.”

Your mind foggy, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers keep working you over, drawing soft, desperate noises from your parted lips. You could barely think straight, let alone put together a proper sentence. “pl-please, sir”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your struggle. “Please what, sweetheart? you gotta use your words if you want somethin’ from me.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep yourself together, but it’s damn impossible with the way his big fingers thrusting inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. You can feel the heat building inside you again, that desperate, aching need, but of something bigger than just his fingers. You need to be filled, to have your brains fucked out. “I need more. . .”

“More, baby? you want my fingers to go faster? is that what you mean?”

You shake your head frantically, your whole body aching for something else. “No, I need- need your cock, sir-“

He raise his eyebrows in a fake surprise. “Oh, is that what you’ve been tryin’ to say this whole time? you’re beggin’ for it now, huh? pretty little thing, all desperate for me to fuck you?”

You whimper softly, your hips moving on their own, trying to push down on his hand for more friction, more pressure, but he holds you still, keeping you right where he wanted you. “Please, sir,” you whisper and nearly cry because of horrible emptiness you’re feeling. “please just fuck me, sir, i need you!”

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous today, sweetheart,” he tells you, his hand finally pulling away from your dripping slit. “don’t say i never gave you nothin’.”

Before you can even process whats happening, Stan shifts you in his lap, his strong hands lifting your hips and positioning you right above his length. You can feel his cock, already hard and throbbing beneath you, pressing up against your soaked entrance, and your whole body tense, your breath catching in your throat.

Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, holding you steady as he lines himself up with your glistening cunt, spreading your folds. “You ready for it, doll?” he asks. “this what you’ve been beggin’ for?”

You nod quickly, fuck enough of questions, you thought. “Yes,” you whisper. “yes yes yes, ple-“ but before you can even finish, he slowly pushes inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. You immediately gasp at the new sensation, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your body adjusts to the sudden fullness. Oh god, it’s thick, so hard, filling you completely and you can feel every inch of him throbbing inside you, every vein, it feels so hot.

Stan huffs out, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you’re tight. like you were made for this, doll.”

You whimper softly, holding on him, your body trembling as you try to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. It’s almost too much, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way he fills you completely. You can barely breathe.

Stan gives you a moment to adjust. his cock pulsing inside you. “There we go,” he mutters watching your brows furrowing. “Just like that. . . you’re doin’ so good, babygirl.”

You moan again, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, and you feel him twitch inside you,. “I. . . nhhah, s-sir”

He leans towards you and kisses your forehead, his hands guiding your hips to start moving, slowly at first. “Go on, princess. Ride me, let me see how bad you want it.”

You bite your lip nervously as you’ve never been in this pose before, you slowly start to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down onto his cock. It feels incredible, the way his cock stretches you open, hitting all sweet spots inside you. You feel the tension building inside you again, that same desperate, aching need, and you whimper again and again, your hips moving faster as your cunt tightening around him.

Stan’s eyes locks with yours as he guides your movements, kissing your neck. “That’s it, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good, yesss, such a good girl, ridin’ me like that.”

You cry out at his words, what a sweet praise, your body moving on its own now, your hips grinding down against him, taking him deeper with each thrust. You can barely think, barely breathe, the pleasure overwhelming your senses, your mind clouded, you can’t even maintain the eye contact.

Stan’s hands moves to your waist, holding you steady as he starts thrusting up into you, meeting your movements with deep, powerful thrusts. You whine, your hands gripping onto his shoulders for support as he fucks you, your mouth hangs open while he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust, he holds you so tightly, squeezing your body while you ride him.

You gasp. “I- I’m gonna-“

“Go ahead, doll, cum for me, let me feel it.”

Your body tensed, your walls clenching around his cock as your orgasm hits you hard. Your body shaking, trembling in his lap as you cumming, rambling pleas leave your mouth when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing sweetly against your cervix. Stan groans, his grip on your waist tightening as he thrusts up into you harder, deeper, drawing out your pleasure as long as he can. “That’s it, such a good girl, baby. . . so fuckin’ tight.”

You fall on his chest, still shaking, your mind still spinning from the intensity of it all. You can feel him still throbbing inside you, still hard, and you whimper softly, your hips shifting slightly in his lap, he’s clearly not planning on pulling out.

After you manage to get your breathing back to normal at least a little you feel his hands still all over you, roughly dragging you up and laying you out on the old wooden table. Your legs tremble, spread wide as he stares down at you, taking in the sight like you’re his prize, his fucking reward.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” grin crosses his lips as he grabs your thighs, pulling you right to the edge of the table before slamming his cock back inside your pussy, forcing a cry from your throat. Your body jolts at the sudden penetration, and you moan again, legs wrapping around his waist as he starts pounding into you again. Hard. Rough. Fast. There’s not a drop of mercy in his movements, he's not holding back, fucking you like you're just a thing for him to use. Your sweet moans and that pathetic "sl-slow down!" sound like music to his ears.

His hands all over you, squeezing, groping, touching. He grabs your breasts, kneading them, pinching your nipples through your shirt so hard you whimper, arching your back off the table. He groans at that, leaning in close, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, “Fuck, you feel heavenly, baby, can’t get enough of this sweet little cunt.”

His fingers finds your clit, rubbing circles around it, teasing you until you can’t stop the pathetic whines spilling from your lips. He keeps fucking you harder, his hips slamming against yours, the table creaking under the weight of it all. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your gasps, your moans, your begs and his grunts as he’s pounding into you like he was starving for it.

“Look at you,” he looks down at your flushed, wrecked body, his hands gripping your waist tight enough to bruise. “Such a fucking good girl for me, huh? letting me use this pretty little pussy however I want.”

You can’t really form words, can’t do anything but take it. Your so brain fucked, body burning, you’re so close you can’t think straight. He’s rough, fast, his fingers rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you higher, higher, until you can’t hold back anymore. You cum hard, again, your pussy squeezing his cock well.

But Stan doesn’t stop. He just keeps going, fucking you right through it, ruining your pussy, even harder now, his hips snaps into you, faster, rougher, and you can feel the slick mess between your thighs, the obscene sound of it only making it filthier. You're choking on your moans.

“Ugh, gonna cum inside you, doll,” he groans. “Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, you want that? you want me to fucking fill you up?”

You nod frantically, too far gone to care about anything else, and with one last, hard thrust, he buries himself so deep, his cock pulsing as he finishes inside you. You feel how warm it is, his cum filling you up, spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting, riding out his high.

Finally, he slows down, pulling out with a groan, and you collapse back on the table, spent, utterly wrecked. Youre literally shaking, panting, his cum dripping out of your used pussy onto the wood below. Stan stands there, catching his breath, looking down at you and all that dirty mess, what a beautiful sight: your legs trembling, your body marked with his touch and his cum leaking from between your thighs.

He leans over. “you know, guess I'll give you a discount for that pretty face of yours.”

L Lawliet X F!Reader Smut Oneshot

VERY SMUTTY SMUT, 18+

FINALLY finished! This was so fun to write, but I've been so distracted recently that I haven't been able to work on any of my hobbies. I apologize for going AWOL for like, what, a month? Anyway, hopefully finishing this will be the start of bringing writing back in my life. Enjoy, L fans, and let me know if you have ideas for more!

Warnings/contents: Oral (reader recieving), PinV, cowgirl, happy trail, slight amounts of biting, and a very tired man

L has been working far too much, and it's showing. Not only has he not been leaving the CTV screens, he's stopped sleeping all together. Not even at his seat. For someone so smart, you'd think he'd know to take better care of himself.

Well, tonight, he's finally returned to your shared bedroom, only to retrieve some important flash drive. You were laying upside down on the bed, your legs propped up on the headboard and your hands busy with a rather riveting game of snake.

As soon as you heard him walk in, you perked up, flipping around and watching him with intent, your phone playing a sad little song at your loss of the now irrelevant game. "Hey! are you done working?"

He had his hands in his pockets, his steps light but slow as he felt weighed down by his lack of energy. "I'm never done working," he answered simply, walking to the nightstand and crouching down in front of it.

He opened a drawer, which contained a safe. He typed in the 12 digit code, opening it and finding a few small files and three flash drives...none of which were the right one. "I put it right here...did you take the red drive from this safe," he asked with slightly narrowed eyes, turning to the left to face you.

"No...is something missing?"

He examined you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, taking in everything about you. This was the problem, he could never tell if you were lying. Whether it was that he was so infatuated with you he couldn't imagine you lying to him, or if you were simply that good, It was frustratingly inconvenient. Perhaps you simply never lied...that was the delirium from not sleeping speaking, most definitely.

"Are you lying," he asked simply.

"No, unfortunately. I wish I had it...I can help you look," you say sweetly.

"I will find it myself...thank you," he nodded, throwing the polite thanks on the end.

"If you say so," you say in obvious skepticism.

He stands back up, looking down at you as you laid back once more. "Do you doubt my ability," he asked challengingly.

"Well...no...It's just..." you look back up at his big, tired eyes, his face discreetly shifting back and forth between curiosity and annoyance.

You look back to your phone. "You've been so tired, you're running on fumes...I just don't think you're in the right place to be effectively searching for and finding things...or, remembering where you put things...or...doing detective work..."

Silence.

You slowly look back up at him, already wincing at how he must look. When your eyes met his, he just seemed...surprised?

"Do you really think my lack of sleep is affecting my efficiency in a palpable way?" He seemed to be considering the notion.

"I do. Very much so."

"Well...I don't have time to sleep," he mused lowly.

you could work with this. "Would you at least shower? It could help you relax, get your mind off things. It'd only take, like, what, 20 minutes?"

He thought about this.

"I suppose it may assist me in 'getting my mind off things'," he sighed. "Fine. But I'd like you to look for that flash drive while I'm gone," he said firmly. Even without the team around, he still acted like he was your boss. You looked up at him with raised brows.

"...please." This energy deficit was making it harder to engage in social conventions, it took a level of consciousness he did not have currently. Another reason he needed sleep.

"Sure," you said with a smile, sitting up. "Go on, go shower, I'll start looking right now," you assured, standing and guiding him to the bathroom. He walked on his own, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed, turning to face the room, scanning it, your brow furrowed. Then, the water turned on. You glanced to the door. You could hear the rhythm of the raining droplets interrupted by him getting in.

With a deep breath, you relax, walking to the nightstand and opening it back up. You typed in the code to the safe, It was a seemingly randomized combination of the numbers within you and Watari's respective birthdays.

Reaching into your bra, you pulled out the flash drive, placing it atop everything else. You'd have to confess and apologize later, for tricking him. You really just needed a reason to get him away from his computer.

With a satisfied huff, you laid back down, continued your game of snake, and waited for him to get out.

fifteen minutes later, the bathroom door gently pushed open, and out L walked, seeming slightly better. he had a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, a slight and sparse amount of black hair barely visible above the pristine white of the fabric. Another towel was slung around his shoulders, catching the water dripping from his spiked black hair.

perfection.

You sat on the edge of the bed, smiling happily at him. "Hey, how do you feel? Better? About the flash-"

"I'd like to have sex."

Your mouth hung open for a moment, the suddenness shocking you. You supposed it was because he was lacked so much energy before, because him being so direct wasn't rare in the slightest. Meanwhile, he simply stared at you, waiting for a proper response.

"Right...right now?"

"Do you have any other plans?"

"Well, no," you say, laughing a little. "I thought you were tired. You should be tired."

"I am tired, but I've come to the conclusion that sex with you would be beneficial, more so than the shower, and more time efficient than proper rest."

You just laughed even more, giggling at his frankness. "Sure, yeah...so, I'm assuming you'll want to get straight to things? make it quick?" Nothing was unexpected with him, that was for sure.

"Well...not without foreplay. I'm not completely helpless," he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly at the insinuation he wouldn't. He could tell that's what you were thinking.

"Is that so? Here I was, thinking you'd leave me high and dry," you tease.

He took a step closer, before putting his foot up and onto the bed next to you and leaning over you. His hands were at his hips, the natural placement for him after so much time putting them in his pockets. "Do you think that lowly of me," he asked softly. His eyes were half lidded, staring deep into yours as if he were reading your soul, and his lips were parted, slowly taking in air, his breath warm against your face, so impossibly close to you.

Your skin was warming, blood rushing to your cheeks and nose as you take in the sight before you. Then, you smile, bringing your hands to cup his face. "You're trying too hard," you taunt, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes, and when you pull away he leans in farther for a beat, as if he's trying to chase you. His serious expression disappears, and he sits up just a little more. "Am I," he asked, genuinely, cocking his head a little in curiosity.

He just makes you giggle, he's so funny without even realizing. "Yes," you laugh jokingly, nodding for a moment before you calm down. Then you lean in a little more, glancing down at the foot propped up on the bed, and quietly say, "No. It's nice, fun...but, I'd rather you just be yourself." You tilt your head up, your lips brushing against his, before you give him a true kiss.

He closes his eyes, a shiver running up his spine, and when your mouth opens to slide your tongue across his bottom lip, he gladly opens his own. Your hands stay to the sides of his face, and his eventually make their way to your shoulders. You stop for a moment, scooting backward. Without even thinking, he sits completely on the bed, just to follow your lips, and as a reward you waste no time kissing him again.

You stay like that for a while, making out while he sort of straddles your legs in his usual crouch, until he moves past your mouth and to your jaw. It surprises you for a moment, but you quickly adjust, your hand moving to his damp hair to steady yourself.

He leaves wet, meaningful kisses up your jawline, his hand sliding up to your neck to hold you in place. "Did you know," he starts, planting a kiss to the spot where your ear meets your jaw. "That the ear is one of the most sensitive parts of the body," he finishes, kissing at the shell of your ear and sucking on your lobe for a moment. He wasn't even trying to be overly sexy, at least not in his words, you could tell he simply said it because your ear made him think of it, but the candidness of this moment that was so L made you melt...especially because of his soft, low voice.

"Is that so," you ask, your voice wavering a little.

you could feel his smile against the skin of your ear as he left another impassioned kiss to the shell. "It appears it is," he hummed, his voice dropping ever so slightly. Maybe he was trying.

You could do nothing but let out a nervous giggle, your back arching upward until your chest met his. You turned your head, your ear no longer accessible to him, and planted a kiss to the side of his neck. You could feel him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat. You kissed him again, this time slowly, and his hand moved to be in your hair, the other planted firmly on the top of your hip to steady himself.

You take the moment to remove the towel around his waist, glancing down to see just what you were working with...and there he was.

He was fully erect, around 6 inches, the pale pink tip beading with pre. Perfect. You almost reached out to touch him, to please him, but...

Finally, and rather suddenly, he mutters, "Sit back....please."

You don't argue, you just...do. You sit back from him. You could have kept going, just to tease him, but just in case he was overwhelmed, you sat back.

He wasn't overwhelmed, to your delight, and you knew because he leaned forward and brings his lips to your clavicle, placing a gentle but impassioned kiss there. He hears your breath catch, and as he looks up at you with his usual moon-eyed stare, he catches the way your nostrils flare, and your lips part. "You are aroused," he states softly, his hands running up your sides and under your shirt.

"I am," you titter, his cool hands sending a shiver up your spine as you watch him intently.

"If you take your shirt off, I may be able to assist you," he hums sarcastically, a slight, gentle smile across his face.

You roll your eyes, a big smile on your face as you remove your shirt, setting it aside. You take your bra off too, and your pants for good measure. The only thing left on you is your underwear, something that, as he trails feather light kisses down the valley of your breast and the center of your abdomen, he carefully removes with his thumbs and index fingers. By now, he's on his knees and bent forward completely, his hands holding your legs apart as he brings himself to be face to face with your aching folds.

he gazes up at you, not in question but in curiosity, almost a way to tease you. do you want this? how badly? you really want this, don't you?

He slowly licks his lips as his eyes flick back down to what was before him. He sticks his tongue out, giving a long, tentative lap up from your entrance to your clitoris. as his tongue slides up your clit, beneath the hood, your hips buck, just enough to let him know you're excited. With that, his lips lock onto it, his eyes half lidded as he lavishly sucks and laps, soft groans reverberating through you ever so gently as he pleasures you.

He always seems to enjoy this as much as you do, and with each moan you release, he responds to you with a particularly angled prod of his tongue, or a vibrating groan in return, rewarding the crescendo of your sounds.

Your hand finds its way to his hair, nestling in the soft black stands and gently pulling at the base. At the feeling, he releases a breath he seemed to have been holding, the air fanning against the skin of your thighs and lower abdomen. The sturdy grip he has on your hips tightens a little, and as your hips stutter with the eventual arrival of your orgasm, he looks back up at you, his eyes peering, examining, daring you to look anywhere but at him. You can't help but to stare back.

With one final lap of his tongue, you finish, back arching, head tossing back, your voice ringing through the room in what he can only describe as the song of the angels. He helps you through, gently sucking on your clit, and when you finally come down from it, he pulls away, licking the fluid from his chin and upper lip. It was sort of endearing, watching him do something that looked so...stupid, to put it bluntly.

You laugh despite your panting, smiling as he sits back with his knees rather relaxed compared to usual, not to his chest, although arched halfway there. "you were...considerably louder than usual. has it been a long time since you've experienced an orgasm?"

you almost wanted to chide him for asking a question that had such an obvious answer, but you supposed it was good he didn't negate the fact that you could self pleasure. "Nope. I guess you could say I've been saving myself for you," you sigh teasingly, crawling closer, over his legs, bringing your face and hips above his, respectively.

He instinctively takes your hips, looking up at you with a thoughtful expression. "Why would you do something like that," he asked disdainfully.

You laugh a little. "Does it matter?"

He pauses, looking to your hips. "I suppose not. It makes no difference to me," he muses.

You smile down at him with endearment, your hands sliding to his shoulders. No time to waste.

You lower yourself down his vehemently leaking cock, his grip tightening around you as you push yourself past his tip.

he leaned forward, his knees coming up, your body now between his chest and his legs as your hips met his. he wasn't especially girthy, but his length more than made up for it. You take in a breath, steadying on his shoulders, and slowly slide upward.

He watches with a sort of aroused fascination as you begin to ride him, his eyes not leaving the sight of your body taking his dick in and out, watching and feeling every twitch, listening to every sound, the variations, the angles, everything perceived. You wouldn't think he was enjoying himself all too much, given the fact he was only releasing tempered pants and the occasional hum, but it was his attention that gave it away. Nothing besides his work, and now you, has captured his attention so quickly and so intensely.

If he weren't so tired and in need of a proverbial "quickie," he'd have you in as many different positions as possible. He has a need to see every facet of you, to know how you look and feel and sound in every angle and situation...but, for now, the usual cowgirl will do. And it does, it does rather nicely.

He only looks up at your face when he takes notice of your own noises, growing in volume and desperation. Of course, when he looks up, he can really only see your tits, bouncing away, and he really has no choice but to lavishly suck on your nipple. a formality, truly. The sounds and expressions that elicits is simply heavenly.

He grips your hips tighter, and as the air from his nose fans across your chest, he thrusts himself up. You cry out, his tip unexpectedly hitting your cervix, and all you can do now is shift back and forth as he thrusts up, peer into his large observant eyes as he tongues your breast and uses your body as he wishes. The sight, the feeling, the sounds, it was all too much for you. You moan louder and louder, signaling an orgasm, and the moment his tip pounds a particular spot, you're done. Your hips buckle, your body shakes, and best of all for him, your walls constrict.

in mere moments after you, he begins to truly moan, his cheeks flushing as his orgasm grows closer. After one particularly fast and hard jerk of his hips, he's calling out your name, his teeth pressing into your chest as his lashes flutter, his cum releasing within you in quick spurts, riding the wave as your hips roll against his.

He said this would be quick, a way to relax while staying time efficient, but fortunately he was too tired to take his own tiredness into account. He fell completely asleep beside you, his head pressed into your chest and his legs pressed to your torso as you stroked his hair. He'd sleep for the next 14 hours, and while you got up to pick up the slack at work, get something to eat, or use the restroom, you always returned to him.

I genuinely looked like coraline's dad writing this. I had fun, but wow was I lethargic. I'd like to do this again though, hopefully when I'm feeling more determined!

Taglist: @cheekyweekymouse

“he’s so baby girl”…. is a 40 year old man

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

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It made him feel a little better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he thought about something else. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

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

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

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

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

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

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

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

It took all your willpower not to react. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

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

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

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

——

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

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

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did?”

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

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

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

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

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

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God, you’re killing me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no.”

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

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i can fix him (no really i can)

Hi!! If you're comfortable with it, I was wondering if you could possibly write a smut for Charlie?

A needy y/n sneaks into Charlie's room during a stream, trying to avoid being seen, and just sits underneath his desk, like, in between his legs. Y/n just begins to tease him by slowly rubbing their hands up and down his thighs until Charlie just let's them suck him off as he tries to stay quiet during the stream.

He eventually ends the stream because it's just too much for him and he needs to fuck y/n's throat. After using their throat, he just fucks them on his desk while praising them.

JOLLY GOOD SHOW

You squirm rubbing your thighs together imagining Charlie sprinkle kisses along your thighs. Just the thought of him manhandling you was able to make you wet. You knew that the next few minutes of this would be insufferable for you. You were right. You craved skin to skin contact with your boyfriend. You tiptoe over to his office giggling to yourself as you slide in through the door getting on your hands and knees crawling over to his desk. As soon as he notices you he smirks and talks to chat, you smile looking up at him as you get under his desk spreading his legs. He adjust himself in his seat letting you pull down his pants. You palm his through his boxers seeing some pre cum leak out as you mocker you hand away pulling the hem of his boxers down, teasing him. You swirl your tongue around his tip using your hand to massage his balls, pulling away you use your other hand to slowly jerk him off using his pre cum and your spit to lube it, causing him to whimper a little bit. He clears his throat. “Condi, biz— we might have to finish the game a different time— I don’t feel to well” you heard distant “feel better soon”s and some “aw man”s but you kept going, bobbing your head up and down around him as he leaves call and ends stream pulling you back by your hair. “You could even wait for me to finish streaming could you?” He grunts as he pushes your head down, holding the back of your head as he fucks into your mouth using it as his personal fleshlight. He groans your name every time his dick meets the back of your throat. Your reflexes kick in as you gag around his dick, tears forming in the brims of your eyes. A tear streaming down your cheek as he hits the back of your throat again. His dick twitches inside of you as his cum coats your mouth some getting on your face as he pulls out. “Fuck.” He groans pulling you up from underneath the desk bending you over on the desk pulling down your panties and pants in one swift move, immediately teasing your entrance by shoving the tip in and out as he grunts with every movement. He groans and goes ball fucking deep inside you thrusting in and out at a steady pace speeding up roughly squeezing your ass as he fucks into you harder hitting your g-spot each time, he pulls out flipping you over sitting you up on the desk sliding into your entrance fucking into you faster making a ball of pleasure form in your stomach, as he wraps his hands around your neck. He brings a bond down from your neck down to your clit rubbing it in circles drawing moans out of you as you feel the ball in your stomach tighten and your legs twitch as you reach your orgasm clenching around his length digging your nails into his back as he loosens the grip on your neck. Within a few more thrusts he was finished cumming inside you painting your insides with his load.

hm happy pride month to them

Tempted — (SDV) Sebastian

Pairing: Sebastian / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 9,457 Warnings: Heavy foreplay, cheating, virgin reader, manipulative sebastian, dubcon, creampie, brothers best friend, praise, cunnilingus Synopsis: All Sebastian has ever wanted is to fuck his best friends little sister. And tonight, you offer him the opportunity. Even if unknowingly.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most “recent” that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

It’s too good an opportunity to pass up. You, sat trembling on his lap while his warm hands rest gently against your exposed thighs, the skirt you had decided to wear today riding up just a little as he lightly strokes his thumbs up and down against the edges of it. There’s just something so… dirty about the whole situation, y’know? Which makes it all the more exciting, his heart positively fit to burst out of his chest at the shy look you give him, the small shake of your thighs every time his thumb swipes against you. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that just maybe… This is where you’ve wanted to be all along, rather than the excuse you gave upon entering his room.

“You gotta start out slow, okay?” He sighs fondly, resolved in his decision to indulge in just a little bit of fantasy before you prance out of his room and back into the hands of your boyfriend. Even just thinking the word makes him feel sick, wishing deep down that it was him instead— but you’re off limits. Always have been, probably always will be. You know, being Sam’s younger sister and all that: he’s always been forced to swallow his ever growing feelings for you in the name of the bro code. Silly fucking code in his opinion, and yet alas, he’s remained faithful to it. At least up until today, until you timidly entered his room and graced him with your presence to ask one question and one question only.

How does sex work?

It’s obvious that you couldn’t have asked your brother such an embarrassing thing, and upon further questioning it seems you were too scared to admit your virginity to your current boyfriend too. And so here he is, sitting up with his back against his bed headboard with you placed dangerously snug on his lap. He promised himself he wouldn’t let things get too far, after all, you are taken. Like, ignoring the morality of fucking your best friends sister, he also has to account for the ethics of cheating with you, of which he’d like to avoid. Besides, you’re a good girl— evident from the fact that you’re still a virgin, so he can’t imagine you’d be up for more than just a few tips. Even if his cock stirs awake in an effort to convince him otherwise, exhaling a shaky breath before you to try and calm himself down enough to remain level headed about things. That skirt is so cute though, and the way you’re sitting has the backside of it flipped up, meaning that your ass is currently sitting directly against his—

“A-And, don’t let him pressure you into anything you don’t want, ‘kay? If he knows what he’s got, he’ll take it slow with you. But don’t be afraid to say stop.” His voice is low, almost whispered as a distraction against the demure eyes you look at him with. It doesn’t help that you’re so soft under his touch, your inexperience showing clearly from the way you don’t seem to know what to do with your hands, the slight squeeze of your thighs against his own as you effectively straddle his lap. He has to fight with himself not to lean further back against his bed and fuck his hips right up into your clothed cunt, swallowing thickly instead to remain on track. Right. Helping. “Start slow, yeah? You gotta build some tension, make him really want it, okay?” He smiles softly, waiting for you to nod down at him. “Watch, I’ll show you what I mean.”

It’s a selfish action, his words hiding behind faux innocence of just wanting to help, and yet still he allows his hands to wander. Just helping, he’s just answering your question, he tries to convince himself, ignoring the obvious nagging at the back of his mind over just how long he’s waited for this exact situation. Just. Helping. Starting with slow movements up and down the length of your thighs, both hands leaving a finger trail of goosebumps on your skin as you shake on his lap. Has to bite his lip in response to how responsive you are, watching your reactions through hooded lids. You’re so cute, you know that? So pretty as you avoid his gaze, letting your head hang just a little low while he stares you down, tickling his way up to the border of your skirt before placing both hands on your equally as exposed arms. You jump in response to the sudden change, but he hushes you softly. “Just relax into it, yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it?” He coaxes, still smiling casually, as if this were a normal thing for friends to do. Because first and foremost, you are his friend, and he’d hate to ruin things with you because of his barely contained lust. Focusing on running his palms over your shoulders instead of his thoughts, begging to turn his brain off and to just enjoy this moment with you, circling his hands over your skin, up and down your arms with intent on warming you up. Your breaths come out in gasped trembles and it’s how he knows he’s doing a good job, smirking more now at how receptive you’re being. “See? Just a little petting and it already feels good, right?” His cock certainly agrees, twitching at the meek nod you offer in return. He really didn’t need your confirmation, the state of you noticeable from the deep blush you wear all the way to how your hands have finally found home on his chest. The feeling of which causes his back to straighten up more, inadvertently pushing himself further into your touch, not that he thinks you’ve noticed thanks to his wandering hands. And how could you, since it seems this is your first time being touched at all, his fingers creeping under the sleeve of your shirt to thumb at your bra step, digging under it gently just to hear you choke on a gasp. Oh, and you sound so pretty too… Much better than how he’s always dreamed of. He’d like to hear more.

Plus, he thinks you’d like to give more seeing as how you pout down at his feather light touches, the cute look you wear drawing a low laugh from him. “What is it, sweetheart?” He affectionately calls to you, letting one of his hands drop to your hip while the other tilts your chin up, the sight of your cute furrowed brows causing him to sharply inhale air through his otherwise gritted teeth. He’s playing a dangerous game here, he knows, but with a gulp of confidence and a quirk of his brow he continues the private lesson. Just giving you some assistance for your boyfriend, just helping you learn how to act when the time comes.

He’s patient to wait for you to reply, but it seems you aren’t even aware of what it is you’re seeking. It’s cute just how needy you are regardless, fidgeting around on his lap in a quest for what he can only assume is more, but your virgin brain struggles to find the correct words for it. It’s all right, he knows how to help, looking over you once to double check that you still want to continue the lesson. Cautiously, the hand under your chin dips to poke lightly at your neck, right at the thin skin under your ear. “Y’see right here? It’s sensitive. I’m sure your boyfriend would like it if you kiss here.” He whispers, naturally allowing his head to follow his touch as he ducks down to press the smallest of kisses there— completely intending on leaving it at that, but the sweet sound you make in response convinces him to continue. He swallows a deep groan of his own before planting a few more faint kisses down your neck, doing his best to savor your taste when you inevitably have to leave his hold once the lesson is over. It’s not entirely self indulgent, anyone (including your boyfriend) would enjoy such soft and tender touches, and really when he thinks about it— that’s what he’s here to teach you. Though he can scarcely deny the butterflies that fill his lungs as you tilt your neck for more kissable surface area. Blessed with the small squeaks and sighs you let out, your sheer unfamiliarity with the situation stroking his ego so well as he grows more confident in his actions. Slowly rubbing soothing circles against your hip while he lines your neck with kisses, traveling his way across your jaw until he almost makes it to your lips. Though here, he stops. Allows a knowing smirk to tug at his lips at the way you shudder from feeling his breath ghost over your face before laughing a little breathlessly. Not at you, but rather one filled with love and awe. You’re so cute, it’s impossible to control his cock brained actions.

“Your turn.”

Not that he expected much else from you, but the soft shy reaction you give at his two words still sends a chill down his spine and a throb in his cock as he watches your eyes narrow, feeling the weight of your determination as you almost immediately start to mimic his actions by placing your curious hands against his bare arms. It’s a gentle action, one that proves endearing enough through how new you are at it, but he appreciates it nonetheless. He’s honestly a little surprised at how self-assured you are to be able to dive right in, but you won’t find him complaining. Shivering into the light playful rubbing you do up and down his forearms, letting his head lean back a little once you reach up to his biceps. “That’s it, just like that.” He quietly encourages you, letting you explore his body on your own terms without providing much more guidance. It’s more fun to learn hands on anyway, isn’t it? And you’re doing such a good job, too. For a virgin, anyway, but because it’s you he feels you carry this certain charm with you. Your actions send a pleasurable chill down his spine.

“Is this okay?” You suddenly speak, and he’s a little taken aback from how winded you sound from just a little foreplay. Oh, he can’t rightly leave you in the incapable hands of your boyfriend now, can he? He doesn’t trust him to look after you properly, to take his time with you like how he is right now. His mind clouded with you and your touch, ignoring the annoying reminder that you’re off limits— for now, at least.

“Mhm.” He nods, wanting to reassure you as much as possible so that you don’t stop touching him, his body hot with the thought of you feeling his hard cock beneath you. Been hard since you popped the question, if he’s honest. “Jus’ keep going. Remember what I taught you.” He hopes his words are convincing enough, allowing you a moments breather before tapping your thigh for attention. “You can do it. Felt nice, promise.”

And with that encouragement you start once more, letting your fingers linger on his arm before giving him a bashful look. He’s just about to ask you whats wrong but you cut him off completely as you promptly lean down, the feeling of your wet lips attaching to his neck causing him to bite down on his lip to swallow a moan. Thankful that your face is hidden so that you can’t see the way his eyes roll back at such a minor thing, though his hands unfortunately give him away as he accidentally squeezes your hips a little too hard as a way to calm himself down. It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but you truly have him feeling like a virgin again. The way his body reacts to you so easily, slipping down the bed just a little to subconsciously get closer. A small reward for your efforts, wanting to show you just how much you affect him by letting his sneaky hands play with the waistband of your skirt. A small ping here, a gentle tug there, all while you adorn his neck with increasingly confident kisses— just as he did to you. He makes a mental note that you’re a quick learner, a loving smile plastered on his face by the time you manage to kiss along his jaw, his cheeks warm at the sight of your fluttering lashes before him. Here, you also stop. Faces mere inches from each other as you pant against him. Not that he’s doing much better, mind you. His own lungs struggle to keep up with how his night has turned, squeezing once more at your hips as thanks. “Exactly.” He hums, all soft and low so as to not frighten you. “Don’t worry, we’re not actually doing anything…” He trails off upon seeing your wandering eyes, watching closely as they travel down to his lips and then back to his eyes, noticing how your lips part slightly at the minimal amount of petting you’ve endured thus far. And he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince more with his words, your pretty face or his cock— so rock hard just from your close proximity to him. But he leans forward anyway, lets his lips meet yours in just the softest kiss ever, and one he’s overjoyed to feel you immediately reciprocate. “Just practicing.” He whispers against your lips, smiling into the forbidden kiss before he has to pull away lest his tongue slips down your throat in horny eagerness.

He pulls back, takes in the sight of you looking so needy. The harsh heave of your chest, the pink of your cheeks and his saliva coating your lips. Must be your first kiss, huh? Ah, he laughs internally. You sure are a sight to see, and his crush is in full effect as you await further instructions after your stolen first. Your cautious hands taking root in his shirt, fisting it into a tight hold as if you were struggling to keep yourself steady— and all of that from just a small kiss. You’ve got to know just how intoxicating you are, right? How he’s beyond love drunk, smiling down at you with this dumb expression he can only put down to infatuation. “See, doesn’t that feel nice?” He coughs, trying to distract himself from the lewd look you stare back at him with, an attempt to hold onto the last shred of responsibility he has left. “Make sure you go slow with him before moving on to anything else.”

“What’s next?” You quickly ask as soon as he’s done speaking, and he swears you know just what your innocence is doing to him. Though that much is immediately known false, his cock can’t seem to agree. Straining hard against his gray sweats with greedy insistence, begging for you despite the fact that you’re off limits. “What about this?” You ask shyly, dropping your gaze to the fat bulge in his pants.

Well, a little more tutoring wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Especially since you’re asking for it.

“Hm…” He pretends to think, casting his gaze to the side in faux thought while you eagerly tug at his shirt. There’s so much he wants to do with you, filtering through all of his nasty late night fantasies before settling on a tame enough one for your experience difference. He can’t go too far, remember. “Wanna know how to really get your boyfriend going?” He cocks his head to the side to question you, sighing deeply to restrain himself when you reply that yes, you’d like to.

He’s kind enough to at least guide your hand, helping you hop off his lap momentarily to let you sit between his legs now. “Here.” He holds your hand gently, dragging it closer and closer to his cock until you can feel the heat of his arousal directly under your palm. A soft curse escapes his lips, a strained fuck as he feels your fingers twitch against him, the smallest gasp exiting your own lungs as his cock jerks in return. The corruption he’s putting you through only fueling his lust, feeling it pool in the pit of his stomach when you go wide eyed staring at the way his cock trembles for you. How long has he been waiting for this, for you to hold his perverted cock in your tiny hands? Too long, it seems, for the moment you eventually do wrap your hand around it he can’t seem to help but let a growled moan sound. He knows he’s going too far, but he’s wholly incapable of slowing down. Who would, when their dreams are coming true right before their very eyes? Surely your boyfriend wouldn’t blame him for that, right?

“Sebastian?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s only natural, yeah? Of course I’d get hard, we aren’t gonna actually do anything. Promise. Just— Just bend down for me a little, okay?”

You seem confused at his instructions, and so he tries again. Applying a little pressure to the nape of your neck so that your head lowers, helping you situate your mouth right above his cock while your hand instinctively squeezes around the fat of his length. Oh, you’re such a good learner, aren’t you?

“Like this, okay? There you go.” He smiles wide, laughing lightheartedly at the strain in his voice. He’s got it so bad for you, and it seems you’ve got no idea. Expectantly looking up at him as you stay seated in the position he so kindly manhandled you into. Doggy style, though with your face almost pressed right against his leaking cock. Fuck, shit— maybe this was a bad idea after all, a fat bead of precum dribbling from his tip just from looking at you in such a lewd position. “Fuck— okay, just— Stick your tongue out.” He all but begs, quickly flustering to correct himself with: “Just pretend, remember? Practice.” He inhales sharply when you immediately follow suit, tongue out and pressed against his fat cock just like that. It’s all too easy for him, there’s no way he can hide a moan, looking down at you with such need that he’s sure even your virgin ass could pick up on it, though you’re quick to correct him when you don’t do much more than what he’s asked.

And while he loves the sight of your tongue flat against his hard and hot cock, he’s sure your boyfriend would want more. And by boyfriend, he means himself. “Lick it.” He gasps. And when you send him a questioning expression in return he sighs. “Just trust me, lick it. He’d love that—” his lies are cut off by your followed instructions, the feeling of your tongue gliding up and down over his still clothed cock causing his hips to buck up, voice caught in his throat. He’d apologize if he meant it, but God he doesn’t, not when you look so pretty like this. All eager to please and avoiding his gaze, the small wet spot from his leaking precum soon swallowed up by your cute tongue and leaving his front soaked in your saliva as you busy yourself with following his help until he says otherwise. You’re almost hypnotizing to him, his thumb coming down to stroke kindly at your cheek for your efforts. “Yeah, fuck, he’d like that a lot— I think.” He swallows thickly, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he watches you tongue at his hard on, the dirty nature of getting off without direct content to his cock causing his tummy to tighten. And he’s so desperate too, fuck, has been ever since he can remember. Can’t quite believe his luck knowing now that you’re still a virgin, happily accepting your clumsy experience with open arms. He deserves to be your first, doesn’t he? Been waiting long enough anyway, and as he buries a hand in your hair to help guide your mouth up and down his cock more to his liking he grows more convinced that you are his for the taking. Why else would you allow him to touch you like this? Be your first cock sucked, yeah? Even if it’s only over clothes, he has to take things slow with you. Has to, even if he doesn’t want to. Thing is, his resolve has never been the strongest with you. And his moral compass ever gray. So it’s no surprise that when you decide to look right up at him while licking him through his sweats he chokes. His eyes rolling back into his skull unashamedly while his grip tightens in your hair, fisting at the strands for some sort of stability in the face of your obscene purity. “Mhm—” his tone is almost smug, pouting back down at you as you flick your tongue directly over his sensitive tip. “God— Your— Your boyfriend is so lucky—” He laughs, releasing your hair to instead pet the crown of your head, cooing sweetly when you beam at the praise. Anyone would be lucky to have you it’s true, it just so happens that he’s decided you’re his now. “Sure this is your first time?” He teases, smirking wide at your sudden stop to defend yourself. You’re so easy, though he’s really got no leg to stand on with how hard his cock throbs for you too.

“It is! C’mon, you said you wouldn’t make fun of me…” You huff, pulling off of him and sitting up straight to reprimand him properly. Even like this, he thinks you’re cute. Even when whining he wants to fuck you senseless. Even when you’re clearly embarrassed and acting all shy he thinks you’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen. He’s fucking desperate.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it baby.” He tuts, leaning over to caress your exposed skin some more now that you’re off him. “Besides. I was being honest. You’re really good at it. I really liked it…” He whispers his last words, hoping you don’t hear him before coughing to further obscure his true intentions. “Your boyfriend will really appreciate all your practice, I mean.”

His words seem to sate you for now, though he’s not quite done with you yet, placing both hands on your hips to drag you closer to him while keeping you sat neatly between his legs. “I can show you something else, if you want?” This is a bad idea. This is a really bad idea, but he can’t seem to help himself when you look so wanting before him.

You’re all too keen to nod too, happy with the praise he’s offered you thus far as you plead with your eyes for a little more help.

And he’s only too happy to give.

He’s cautious to remain calming, doing his utmost to care gently for your naive attitude. Because while you are such a good learner, he can still pick up on the slight hesitance on your face. The leftover worries regarding such a new experience— and he’d hate to ruin all that he’s built up tonight. Would never forgive himself if you walked out of his room worse for wear than when you came in, and so he’s soft with it as he taps on your shoulder. “Lay back, trust me.” Tenderly murmuring instructions so as to not overwhelm you too much. Even if his cock is practically ready to burst just from watching you do just that: lay back. The sight of you under him is one he’s only ever fucked his fist imagining, and so now that you’re actually on your back for him like this it takes him a second or two to catch up to reality. His vision hazy and his cock twitching, pointed directly at you and easily seen through to egregious wet patch you’ve not only left yourself but also drawn out from his dribbling tip. More than anything, he’s thankful you decided to wear a skirt today. It makes this private lesson a whole lot easier as he situates himself to hover above you, his pesky pervert hands finding their way to your inner thigh to pinch and hold while the other stabilizes himself by planting down on the bed next to your hip.

“Like this?” You seek his reassurance, and he sucks on his teeth from how small you not only look but also sound.

“Uh-huh, just like that baby.” His hand rubs your thigh up and down, his eyes unfocused and attempting to take in the whole view of you so submissive for him but he’s struggling. Never in his life did he think he’d actually pin you down like this. Fuck. The taboo nature of touching your best friends little sister gets to his head, his heart racing as he inches his fingers up, up, further until he reaches the hem of your hidden panties. His cock throbs at the little gasp you let out when he does so, knowing full well that you’ve no idea why you’re making those sounds and only that it feels right to make them. Exactly, he thinks to himself. If it feels so right, then surely it can’t be that wrong to help you so candidly. It’s all he need to tell himself anyway as he swallows thickly to instruct you some more, bunching up his bedsheets in a fist for some semblance of control. “So pretty like this baby. If you just lay back like this for your boyfriend then— Oh.” His fingers graze against your panties, thumb pressing gently against the wet patch over your hole as he seeks to please you instinctively. For a moment, it feels like he can’t breathe. All time stopped as he watches your reaction intently, more precum leaking from his tip when you scrunch up your face in interest. Has to stall himself abruptly and momentarily else he’s liable to just shove his cock in right there and then, face flushed and fingers twitchy. He wants to makes you feel so good that you forget all about your boyfriend, internally telling himself that to do just that, he has to remain patient. “He should— If he’s a good boyfriend then he should take his time with you, okay? I’ll show you what I mean.”

You tense up a little as he shuffles closer, bending down to mimic the position he had you in earlier. Both hands come under your ass to lift you up, meeting his face half way before you scurry to pull your skirt down over yourself. “S-Sebastian, wait—!” You panic, and his heart stutters at how cute you sound all confused.

“It’s okay, shh.” He coos at you, nevertheless not stopping despite your hesitance. “We’re not gonna do anything. Jus’ wanna show you what your boyfriend should be doing. So you know what to expect, remember?” He lies through his teeth, fully intending on doing that which he’s just promised not to. It’s just— he can treat you so much better, y’know? Has to take this chance while he’s got you literally in the palm of his hands, squeezing at your ass just to hear you gasp some more. There isn’t a prettier sound in the world if you asked him than you needy embarrassed whines while his breath fans over your thighs, his nose nudging knowingly at your skirt until he flips it up with his face in one swift motion— his hands too busy cupping your ass cheeks to do the job themselves. Besides, the squeak you let out at his flirty advance is more than worth it with how hard his cock jerks to fuck another one out of you. “You gotta make sure he does this with you. Otherwise, he’s not worth it sweetheart.” He confidently asserts, peeking out from between your thighs just to watch your eyes widen in surprise. Sure, you’ve no idea what he’s talking about, but thats why he’s doing this. To show you exactly what he means, wolf whistling once his eyes cast back down towards your plain panties. Even here looks pure, so innocent are your white panties that he can barely stand the sight of them. Not as a turn off, but because he adores them, loves you so much that even this small symbol of your innocence is enough to rile him up. Who was he kidding, there’s no way he was ever going to be able to last the moment you walked into his room. No chance in hell at keeping himself composed as you sit there obediently, his fingers itching to stretch you out properly already. But they’re too occupied absentmindedly squeezing your ass, keeping him calm and collected enough to at least still communicate his desires with you, his sweatpants growing insufferably tight with how hard his cock aches for you. Not a single thought given to the ethics of touching your best friends taken little sister any more now that he’s face to face with your virgin cunt. Unable to stop himself from sniffing at it like a dog, his cock drooling to the humiliated whines you let out. “Fuck—” he quickly shoves out his mouth, shuddering from your mere scent alone. While you may not know it personally, your body sure seems to want him.

And so he gives in to you once again, repeating the previous actions he had you endure by letting his tongue lay flat against your wet spot and sucking hard. Far harder than you deserve for your first time, but he can’t stop himself. Just one little taste through your wet little panties alone and he’s hooked, grabbing at the fat of your ass with much more urgency as he immediately flattens his tongue in an attempt to swallow you whole, running it up and down your hidden slit before placing a greedy kiss right over where your clit is. It's stupid how erotic things feel despite still remaining fully clothed, his cock harder than it’s ever been just from lapping away at your panties, huffing harshly at the primitive urge he feels to put you in your place. “Taste so good, yeah?” He pants, too deep into his delusions now as your cunt rests against his face to keep up the facade of just helping. “Jus’ a little more, okay? Jus’ need to— need t’move these.” He whispers against your underwear, his breath doing little to cool you down with the heated kisses he presses against you in between his gasped words. And he doesn’t even wait for your consent, dropping you down with an urgency that he’ll apologize for later before peeling your sticky panties off your cunt and down your legs, the shocked whine you let you and the immediate closing of your legs causing a growl to rise to his lips. He’s quick to move though, digging his fingers into your thighs to pry them open again and humming deeply at the sight that greets him. A wet and ready cunt. “Pretty.” He seethes, jaw tight and tummy tense with just how much he wants you, how eager he is to prove his worth to you. That, and the fact that you have the cutest little cunt he’s ever seen, salivating over you as you attempt to hide those adorable expressions he so badly wants to enjoy. It’s fine, he’ll see them soon enough, smiling away to himself when he lets go of your legs and you keep them open. Such a good girl, aren’t you? And for your first time too! He’s so proud of you, making sure you know just how much by trailing soft kisses down your open thigh. Murmuring sweet nothings on his way down to his goal, a trail of saliva in his wake until he once against meets your cunt with a grunt.

Not much else is said for a few long seconds, his own words lost on him at just how good your cunt smells, too focused on making sure he doesn’t bust a load before he has a chance to satisfy you to adequately voice his love for you, and he assumes you’re quiet out of sheer anticipation for what he’s about to do next. You’ve no idea, and that excites him to no end. Has his cock all twitchy, one of his hands lowering to palm over the too sensitive tip to release some of the built up tensions he holds for you. He’s got no time to tend to himself fully though, merely content to just palming at his cock while his free hand spreads your pussy lips apart. To any normal person, maybe even including your boyfriend, they might get embarrassed if they were acting as fraught with need as he is right now— but it’s hard to care about such things when his tongue rolls up your slit, openly drooling down it with a shuddered moan exhaled right against your puffy clit. Virgin cunt tastes so good, and he lets you know just how much he’s enjoying himself by lowering his head to make out with your hole. All messy and sloppy, he simply can’t afford to act any other way with you right now. Not when you make just the prettiest little whimpers, his efforts doubling the moment he feels your hand fist at his hair for stability. So good, such a good baby, doing exactly what he wants without prompting— this is why you should be with him and not your lame ass boyfriend. Look at how much you squirm on his tongue, the way your legs shake as he fucks it in and out of your untouched little hole, squeezing his cock hard at the thought of adding that to the list of firsts he’s taking from you. Getting off himself from getting you off, adding in the pressure of his thumb to your clit as he laps up everything your hole offers him, his head spinning with the sounds of your enjoyment while you claw at his scalp for any sort of purchase— but it’s no use. Hearing you cry out for him to stop, hold on a second! And feels funny, Seb—! only encourages him to keep going, the wisdom of previous sexual encounters he has over you looming between your legs as he sucks at your slick faster, incentivised to stroke the whole length of his cock over his (for all intents and purposes, see through) sweatpants when your legs clamp down over his head. Best earmuffs he’s ever worn, honestly. Though he can still hear the loud sob of his name loud and clear falling from your pretty lips as you very quickly, and easily, cum on his tongue. Not that he’d expected much else from a virgin, but still the speed at which you moan for him strokes his ego about as well as he imagines your cunt will in a minute, your back arching so nicely off his sheets as you ride his face to completion. He only comes up for air once he’s absolutely sure he’s drank every last drop of cum you offer him, and also because you start to push him away from overstimulation. You can’t rightly blame him for wanting to remain tongue pressed between your sticky thighs, you taste so fucking good, and now that he’s had that taste— he’s never gonna let you go. Big brother Sam and your boyfriend be dammed, he’ll brand your insides as his by the end of the night.

He’s gasping as he comes up, suddenly aware of his frenzied state as he has a chance to look you up and down. But oh, what a mistake that is. Your messy hair, body all blushed and shaking, a mess of fluids painting your legs pretty. He could cum right there and then if he’d allow himself too, stopping the shameful inevitable with a rough fist firmly choking the base of his cock. Something within him snaps when you reach out for him, all teary eyed and practically begging for more with the cute pout you wear. It’s enough to have him crawling up you, tugging his sweats down just enough to have his cock hang out before placing both hands at either side of your head. It’s difficult to focus on the task at hand rather than his selfish objectives when you offer yourself up on a silver platter like this, but he does his best anyway. “Make sure he makes you cum first, just like that, okay? He has to get you prepped enough for— Ah, fuck.” His exposed cock grazes against your slippery cunt and disrupts his teaching, instantly his hips buck into the warm heat and slip up to knock against your clit. And upon hearing your muted moan he reflexively repeats the action, humping his precum up your slit with infuriating precision. Can’t quite believe how close he is already, having to mentally remind himself to slow down, all the way until he’s eventually strong enough to stop. Difficult as it is, he still cares about you enough to give you a small breather before taking what was always his. “Oh, you feel so good. Just… Just the tip won’t hurt, okay? Only the tip, I promise.” He hushes your high pitched whines, tenderly brushing his open palm against your shaking shoulder for reassurance. “Promise, baby. It’s not cheating if it’s just the tip, okay? Just so you can see how it feels.” He hides behind a smile while whispering falsehoods down your ear, almost completely bent over you and pressing you further into the mattress below with no intention on keeping his word. Not that you realize, of course. A weak little nod as consent and he’s pouncing on you.

Sure he can’t just thrust it into you, but fuck if he doesn’t want to more than anything he’s ever wanted in his life. Wanting to go the same speed he usually fucks his fist to when thinking about his best friends little sister, all those festivals and band sessions you were present at while he was too busy petting his pervert cock— he wants to shove it into you so bad. But he’s nicer than that, or perhaps more cunning is the right word. If he’s slow with it now, letting his fat cock catch on gently to your dripping hole and stroking himself against it slowly, making sure you’re comfortable and happy enough for him to continue by rubbing smooth circles against your hips and praising you from his higher position, then maybe you’ll see just how much of a better option he is. “Look at you.” He mocks, though it’s said only with adoration, as if he can’t quite believe just how naughty you manage to look while taking cock for the first time. Your enjoyment apparent as he jerks off against you by your open mouthed mewls, your unfocused eyes attempting to beg for more from him, and he’ll give you it. Don’t worry, he doesn’t think he could stop even if he wanted to— and he certainly doesn’t want to do that. “You want it? Oh, your body wants it so bad— Can you feel that? Hear how wet you are? Ah, promise. Promise just the tip, okay? It’s only fair. It’s only fair since I made you cum first, kay?” He laughs lovingly, giving you only a second more to catch up to the situation before gently, far too gently for his tastes, pushing his tip further into you. A collective sigh shared upon his intrusion, his heart beating so hard in overwhelming pleasure from how tight your virgin hole is. So warm and wet, welcoming his leaking tip so well after he tongue fucked one orgasm out of you already. Still, he notices the pain wash over your face, his head lowering to meet your level with a hushed tone. “Oh, baby... I know it hurts, I know.” He sucks on his teeth, trying to bear himself to how snug this fit is, stretching your never fucked before cunt out with his fat cock, thankful for the copious amounts of precum he’s dribbling inside of you mixing with the slick you gush out each time he shifts a little closer, pushes his cock more in the smallest amount. He’d never want to hurt you, but he knows that if you put up with him for just a bit longer, he’ll have you crying from pleasure instead. Softly wiping your tear stained cheeks with another muted whisper. “It's all right, just breathe for me. It’ll real feel good real soon, and then— Fuck, and then what you gotta do to impress your boyfriend is— is wrap your legs around my back, yeah? C’mon, look at me.” He ends up begging, his brows knitted and thighs shaking as he takes you for the very first time. Patiently waiting for your eyes to open and rest on his, a small smile breaking out on his face when you finally manage it. “There ya go. Pretty girl…” He pauses, allowing you a moment to just breathe with his cock tip sitting nicely inside your cunt. And then: “My pretty girl.” As soon as you follow through with his instructions, keeping him pressed against you missionary style with your legs locked around him. He wishes he had taken the time to undress you, to love on your whole body as well as showcase his own, because he knows you’d love the skin on skin contact— but he’s not got the time nor the patience to go through that process right now. The heart wants what his cock needs, and right now that means being buried so deep in your cunt immediately so that all you can feel is him.

He moves without warning. Not that it was his intention, but the pitiful whine you let out at his words causes his cock to take control. A small hump, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of him with how ruined you sound immediately following. A matched cry from the way he splits you in two, despite his minimal movements, he knows this must be scary for you. “Just a bit more, okay? Promise, only a little more. You’re so close to taking it all, yeah?” He misleads you, his cock throbbing at the mere mention of fucking more into your poor little cunt. But still, you nod up at him. Even through babbles of pain and shaky breaths of uncertainty you trust him enough to keep going, and it proves fatal to his self control. Restraint forgotten about the moment you whisper his name. A soft, broken sound spilling from such pretty lips. There’s no way, no fucking way, he could hold back after that. And he’ll apologize to you later for his rashness, sure, but in this moment he’s absolutely powerless to stopping his hips from bucking into you. Pushing the rest of his cock into your warm hole until his balls finally rest against your ass, your skirt bunched up in your own small hands for some sort of comfort, but fuck it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The oppositional sight of his cock stuffed fully inside your tight little cunt and the innocent action of tugging on your skirt goes straight to his balls, all tight and taut and want to mark you from the inside out— but he stalls. Lets his cock rest inside of you for now, taken to doting on you from above to distract himself enough to not cum already.

“That’s it— Look!” He breaks into a kind laugh. “You took it all in. Took me all in, yeah? Told ya, a natural. Fuck, you feel so good—” His cock throbs some more, thick beads of precum spilling out inside for your comfort, his eyes briefly rolling back from the way your walls choke his length at his words. “Promise to make you feel good too, okay? Show you how your boyfriend should be doing it.” He continues to lie, bending down to press a barely there kiss to your sweaty forehead only to pull back up. He wants to watch you fall apart. Needs to see the moment you realize that after all this time, he’s been right here, waiting, patiently, for you to realize his presence. That he could be everything you could ever want for and more. Gradually drawing his hips back and his cock with him, choking at the sight of your silent moan from the feeling, and then calmly pushing back in. The confused stare you regard him with makes him dizzy, working on autopilot as his hands come down to hold on to the back of your knees and gently pushes them down while he starts a lazy pace into you, biting down on his lip from his front row seating as your expression slowly turns into one of pleasure with the slow in and out he forces you to endure. He feels as though he’s melting into you, the stupidly lewd squelch of his cock steadily fucking into your hole, the wet pap! of his balls every time he fully sheathes inside of you, God, he’s so fucking in love. Simply mesmerized to the sight of you taking cock so well, and for your first time too! And the sweet sounds you make every time he forces his way back inside, molding your insides to the shape of his cock— he never wants to hear anything else again. Cursing lowly to himself at the realization of just how badly he wants— no, he needs you to be his. “Feelin’ good, pretty?” He asks you, a cocky smirk spreading on his lips when you mumble a subdued yes. “Told ya— Ah, told ya it’d feel good.”

This is just the start though, his hips experimentally fucking just that little bit faster into you to satisfy his forever urges, though your reaction is instantaneous. A quick breathy intake of air as you attempt to pull your skirt closer to your face, inadvertently flashing him more of your body despite your want to hide. Cute soft tummy that one of his hands immediately presses into, forcing a laugh out of his struggling lungs at your adorable display. And then it fully hits him. He’s fucking his best friends little sister, finally, after all those years— His pace snapping into a more brutal one at the thought, far too quick for your first time and only made more evident from the surprised wail you let you as he begins fucking into you like you deserve. Short snappy thrusts into your tight cunt, a resounding smack of his balls hitting against you filling the space left between his grunts and your moans, harsh huffs for air fanning over you as he adds a little more pressure to your spread legs. “O-Oh my God.” He manages to stutter out, unable to take his eyes off you as they flit between your puffy cunt and your pretty fucked out expression. He’s practically drooling over your reactions. “Jus’ for practice. It’s just practice—” he reassures you, filling your hole up so full, much fuller than you’ve ever experienced before with his quick fucks. Fucking so fast that his head goes empty, a babbled “Good girl, good girl—” over and over again down at you at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, your soft little mewls turning more high pitched and cracked with each eager drag of his cock. Can’t help but dig his fingers into your thighs, his head hanging low while he sits up a little off the back of his heels to fuck into you at a deeper angle. It’s obviously too much for you, the seemingly tell-tale shake in your legs letting him know that you’re close again, and he can’t fucking stop himself. “You gave me your virginity. You gave it to me.” He growls, a playful lilt to his tone at the embarrassment present on your face, the way you pull him closer at his dirty words like just hearing them was shameful, though he easily gives you the contact you’re seeking until his chest is pushed right against your own and his mouth latches on to your neck to suck just a little. A small reminder of your lesson, if you will. “You gonna remember everything that I’ve taught you?” He whispers down your ear, and he’s sure you can hear the smirk through his voice with how tight you clench around his speedy thrusts. Running his mouth more than he’d like just simply because your cunt feels that good, has him in a choke hold. “Maybe you don’t need him. Maybe you should just be with me instead, huh? Mhm. I think you should just be my girl.” His confession emphasized with slower but deeper thrusts into you. Really taking his time to fuck his full length into you, breathing deeply to continue his long awaited admission by way of letting his lips connect with your own. A messy kiss, more tongue than anything as he shoves it down your throat to drip saliva for you to drink up, openly moaning into your mouth just as much as he swallows your own for himself.

It feels too good, your little virgin cunt sucking him off better than anyone else has, persuading himself that this must mean that you’re his, right? “Only do this with me, okay?” He whispers in between sloppy sucks of your tongue. “If it feels so good with me, why would you wanna do it with anyone else? You should just be mine instead.” He all but groans, his tone throaty and dry despite the clumsy kisses, voice fucked out of him by how well your cunt takes him. And it’s clear you aren’t doing much better, able only to nod back at him with a cute dumb look on your face, his mind reeling with sadistic want to fuck it off of you. Grinding his fat cock into you with his hips flush against your ass, his rough thumb coming down to swipe over your abused clit only for a few seconds before he can feel you cream his cock. And fuck if it isn’t the best feeling he’s ever experienced, mind completely blank with the show you put on for him. One of his hands remains on your knee, pushing it down further so he has a better view of your cunt convulsing around his cock, his tip dribbling so much for you at the feeling of your slick trickling out at every small hump he offers you. It feels better than he could have ever imagined, your cute cunt already promising to ruin his every future experience unless it’s with you, and so he lets your ride your orgasm out with the addition of light flicks to your clit. A gentle push of his cock as he rests flush against you, at least until you’ve finally stopped shaking so much and your breathing is more stabilized from your first fucked orgasm.

“Look so pretty when cumming, angel.” He praises you, a sneaky smile on his lips as he once again returns his hand to your other knee, pushing your legs down as far as you’ll allow him while he completely rises off his heels now. His stance looming over you as he tenderly gazes at your barely open eyes, the dopey smile you wear telling him all he needs to know as he pulls his hips back hopefully for the last time tonight— and then fucks back into you as hard as he can. Practically bouncing you up his sheets from how powerful his thrusts are, his words gasped and trembling from the amount of weight he throws behind each thrust. Not that he hears you complaining, instead a stream of broken moans and half started cries of his name spill from your lips. Pretty. “Want me to cum inside? It’s only fair. I’m gonna be all your firsts.” He utters, voice all strained and forced as if it pains him to talk right now. And it does, your cunt wrapped so nice and tight around his cock that it’s difficult to make any sound besides moans, so warm and wet with your two orgasm that it’s a struggle to even think anything coherent. Though it doesn’t take him long to give you what you want seeing as he’s been hard practically since you showed up in his room in that cute outfit. At the very least he’s happy to have made you cum twice, and for truly being your every first. First kiss, first oral, first orgasm, first fuck. And now, your first creampie. Your name falling from his lips in a hushed gasp almost as quickly as you plead for him to finish inside, all breathy and barely there from how powerful his orgasm is when spilling his seed deep into your tiny cunt. His best friends sister, tainting you forever with his cum as he continues to fuck himself into your tight hole, fucking his cum deeper against your womb in a primal effort to mark your insides. The grip he has of your thighs tightens as he milks himself inside of you, nails digging into your skin with a soft apology, barely conscious of what it is he’s doing until it’s already done. And even as he’s running empty and satisfied with how stuffed you are, even then his hips won’t stop, continuing to stroke himself lazily into your overfilled with cum cunt until you whine for him to stop. “Sorry— fuck, I’m sorry—” he uselessly rambles, wincing as he pulls out of you only to stare down at your used hole. Shocked at the amount of cum that spills out of you, looking up at you apologetically until you smile wide back at him.

“Thanks, Seb.” You whisper, all cute and silly. It causes him to mirror your grin regardless though, tucking his spent cock away and shuffling to lay beside you rather than forcing your surely exhausted body into any further movement. You’re so attractive all the time, it’s no wonder he was unable to treat you any differently tonight.

“My pleasure.” He hums, laying an arm over your tummy and resting his chin atop your head. He’s so happy. So completely overjoyed with being able to be your first everything and managing to confess his love for you in one go. It’s a little dizzying if he’s honest, but he can’t help but be hopeful at the way you snuggle back in against him, turning to your side to nuzzle your face against his chest. Even the sound of your deep breathes is alluring to him, so obsessed with all that you are that he pulls you even closer, his softening cock slowly but surely growing harder at your soft affections. “I was being serious, you know.” He suddenly says, though there’s a hint of hesitance in his voice.

“About what?” You sleepily yawn, taking hold of his shirt once more. A comfort thing, he’s sure, but he’s still so in love with the feeling that it coaxes the words right out of his mouth.

“About you… Being with me. I’d like that. Makes sense, too. Since y’know…”

You don’t say anything back, and he thinks that’s fine. A lot has happened tonight, and he’s willing to wait for your eventual answer. Though he worries he’s maybe ruined the mood just a little with his heartfelt emotions, and so he flusters to fix the apparent issue with a breathless laugh. “Just… Y’can’t tell Sam, okay?”

“Promise.” You reply, and given the amount of promises he’s told you tonight, he’s not sure if you’re telling the truth or not. Swallowing the mounting fear of Sam finding out he’s messed with his beloved baby sister by kissing the top of your head a few times. Though he did thoroughly enjoy fucking you for the first time, he’d like to share more soft moment like these with you too. Delicate and giggly, the hand he has over your tummy drawing a hidden I love you against your skin while you cuddle into him. He’ll clean you up later, like the gentleman he is. But for now, he’s happy to simply exist beside you and praise you for how well you did for your first time. Sweet reassurances and smiled fondness. He loves you, and despite his less than kind actions tonight, he thinks you might just love him back.

Shut up m'dudes, it's a national holiday

Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻

Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.

I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)

Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.

Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.

A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀

*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*

It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.

The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.

“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”

“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”

“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”

“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.

“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.

“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.

He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.

Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.

“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”

You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.

“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.

You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.

“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.

“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.

“You say that now…”

You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”

“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.

“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.

“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”

Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.

“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.

“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”

“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.

“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”

You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”

“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”

“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”

“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.

“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”

“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”

“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.

You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.

“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.

“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”

You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.

“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”

He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”

“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”

“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.

He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.

The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.

“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”

He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.

“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”

“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”

“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”

“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”

“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.

“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”

“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.

“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.

Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.

After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.

“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.

“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”

“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.

“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”

“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”

“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.

“Used.”

“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”

“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”

“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.

You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.

“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.

“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”

“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.

Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.

“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.

Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.

You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.

One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”

Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.

“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”

He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.

“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”

You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.

As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.

Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.

“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.

You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.

“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.

“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”

“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.

“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”

“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”

At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.

“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.

“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.

“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”

“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.

“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”

“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”

“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.

“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”

“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”

“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”

“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”

“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.

“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”

Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.

“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.

“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.

“No one has.”

“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”

“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”

Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.

“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”

“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”

“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.

“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”

You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.

“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.

“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”

“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.

Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.

You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”

“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.

“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”

“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.

Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.

His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”

“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”

“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”

“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.

You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.

“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.

“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”

He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.

“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”

“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.

The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.

“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.

Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.

“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”

“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.

“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.

You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”

You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”

You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.

“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.

“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”

“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”

Florida!!! Is my favorite song ever I think?!? (I’m saying this after listening to each song but this time I might be fr)

Wait, so "Daddy" in But Daddy I love Him is the public who criticise Taylor's love life? Genius

“I’m pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free”

w; making out, grinding, dirty talk?

season 1-2 reid wouldn't make any sound, not even a whimper

i think its because of his lack of experience.

you've been kissing for a few minutes, movie long forgotten even though its one of your favourites. your now above him, hips pinning down his own. experimentally, you roll against his hips, a whimper leaving your lips at the friction. but reid makes no sound. you break the kiss, frowning at his lack of reaction.

"spence?"

"mh, yeah?" he says, a little breathlessly.

you pout, rolling your hips again. his eyes snap closed, his jaw tightening at your movement. you raise your hand from the couch, running it through his hair, as you lean down to kiss him again.

you tug at his hair quickly, and a small restrained whimper leaves his mouth. you lean back, smiling triumphantly.

"there we go, c'mon baby make some noise for me."

reid groans at your words, hips rutting up to meet yours once again.

you smirk, leaning back to kiss him again.

"i love hearing you.." you whisper against his lips

Could you write a Jim Halpert fic? I want it to be an x reader who has a lot of tension with Jim and one day they just need to fuck to get it out.

Jim's a tease for sure, so tension is inevitable. Hope you like it! (If not you can always request something else if requests are open!!)

Jim Halpert x Coworker!Reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N; Smut; Plot-ish; Semi-Public Sex; Teasing; Tension; Almost Getting Caught; Big Dick Jim (obvi); Fingering (fem receiving); Missionary; Office Sex; Desk Sex;

Author's Note:

This contains smut, so if you are not 18+ (or 16+ because lets be real here) do not interact with this post! If you like, reblog, comment, or follow me, I will block you! I can't stop you from reading this, but knowing you are makes me uncomfy, thanks!

Michael called an "end-of-day" meeting to, which he had been trying to make a regular thing for a few days now, in order to talk about, well, whatever he wanted. Currently, he was saying something about the Halloween party coming up. It was hard to focus with the chairs being so close together, it made the small "meeting room" kind of hot and stuffy. Either that or the fact that Jim's hand was brushing your thigh, his shoe inching your pant leg up slowly, then letting it drop back down. You couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if he was messing around.

He had been doing this for weeks now, and you never had the courage to tell him to either stop or take him into the bathroom and have him right then and there. It started with him "accidentally" bumping into you and grabbing your hips to steady himself, or grazing your hand as he walked by. At first you made the excuse that it was a small office, he had a desk right next to yours, and even that he was just clumsy. Then he started to be more touchy. He would put his arm around your shoulder when you guys were talking to people. He played it off as a "friendly gesture", but you knew it wasn't when his hand would graze the side of your breasts, or play with your hair, tugging every so often. It got to the point where you couldn't be around him without him touching you in some way. It wasn't like you didn't like it, in fact it turned you on. You just couldn't tell if he was messing with you.

Which brings you to now. His hand slowly inching to your inner-thigh, his shoe messing with your pant leg. You were focusing all your attention on not squirming in your seat. You didn't want to bring alert any of the other people in the very crowded room.

It wasn't until he removed all contact that you snapped back into focus, noticing everyone getting up from there chairs. You quickly got up, ready to get out of there, your body buzzing with arousal.

You were bending over your desk, logging out of your computer, when you felt a pair of hands on your waist. You gasped at the sudden contact and whipped around, meeting Jim face to face. By this point everyone was either gone, or heading out the door, the only one still there being Michael, who was in his office with the blinds closed.

"What are you doing?" You breathe out, barely able to look him in the eye.

"Saying hi. Do you... not... want me to say hi?" He asks, smirking, his eyes half-lidded.

You could barely breathe, his hands, still on your hips, were slowly making their way underneath your shirt, and up your waist. His soft, strong hands rubbing up and down your soft skin.

You finally get enough sense to do something, and reach up, grabbing his neck, pulling him down and forcing your lips together. He groans into your lips, moving you backwards until you bump against your desk. His tongue prods your lips and you immediately let him enter your tongues clashing against one another, teeth bumping each others. He bites your lip causing you to moan, muffled by his mouth pressed against yours. He moves his hands to your ass, about to help you jump onto the desk behind you when you both hear a thud coming from Michaels office.

You both immediately separate, realizing you could be caught at any moment. Your hands go to your shirt, pulling it back down and smoothing it down, while Jim's hands flatten his hair back down. Michael opens up the door to his office, grabbing his things, and leaves to get his coat.

He turns to the both of you and says, "Have a nice weekend you guys! Remember to get the cupcakes for the Halloween party Monday okay Jim?"

"Yeah, yeah. See you Monday!" Jim says, his gaze making its way back over to you.

Michael leaves, the door closing with a loud thud, and Jim's hands are immediately on you again. This time he grabs you, actually lifting you onto the desk, and immediately one of his hands goes to the button on your pants, the other going to grip your hair as he shoves his mouth against yours.

He breaks away from your lips for a moment, his warm breath fanning against your lips as he says, "Are you sure about this? It's fine if you don't want to, you know."

"I think I am going to go crazy if you stop now," You say, laughing softly.

He chuckles, diving back into your lips, his fingers wrapping around your hair as he unbuttons and unzips your pants. You take your hands off of his chest, where they were grabbing at his shirt, and slide your pants off, dropping them to the floor. His hands leave your body and go to undo his slacks, pulling them, along with his boxers, down to his knees, his hard length popping out and hitting his stomach. It takes everything in you not to groan as you wrap your fingers around it. It is girthy, making you unable to wrap your hand around it fully, and very lengthy. He pulls away from your mouth as you glide your thumb over his tip, spreading the precum dribbling down his shaft with your hand.

"Fuck, Y/N. You don't know how long I've thought about this," Jim moans in your ear.

You pick up the pace as you answer, "I bet about as long as you've been teasing me. If I had to guess, of course."

His laugh turns into moans as I rub my thumb across his tip again, moving his hands to your thighs. He moves his hands higher, until they are right where you want them. His fingers pull at your panties, pulling away from you for a moment to look you in the eyes.

"Are you-" You cut him off by pressing your mouth against his again.

"For the last time, yes. Yes I am sure. No I am not going to regret it. Now please touch me Jim," You say, clenching your thighs together, needing to relieve some of the pressure.

"Fine," He says, shoving you onto your back.

He pulls your panties off quickly, throwing them over his shoulder, and rubs his fingers through your slit. He groans at how wet you are. He spreads your wetness through your folds, stopping every so often to rub circles into your clit. You slap your hand to your mouth to muffle your moans.

Jim reaches his free hand up to pull your arm down, "Let me hear you, Sweetheart. Come on baby."

You whimper as he pushes a finger into you, slowly massaging your clit with his thumb. His long, slender finger reaches places inside of you that you could never reach on your own before. Your pussy squelches with wetness as he shoves another finger into you.

You look up at him, his eyes never tearing away from your wetness, seemingly hypnotized. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you faster, each time they come away soaked and glistening, before he shoves them back in again, curling them deep inside of you, hitting that spongey spot inside of you. You try to find something to grip on the flat surface of your desk, unable to find something to keep you grounded. Jim, noticing, grabs both of your wrists with his large hand and pins it to the desk above your head, inserting a third finger, with slight resistance, at the same time.

"So tight, baby. Gonna come on my fingers? Please come for me Sweetheart," He says, leaning down to kiss your face, your neck, your shoulders, as he thrusts his fingers faster and faster, his thumb continually rubbing your clit, the pressure overwhelming.

You moan a string of curses as your pussy clenches his fingers, the coil of pressure inside of you bursting. You try to clench your thighs closed, but he leans down, his shoulders keeping you from doing so.

He slowly stops moving his fingers inside you and takes them out, looking you in the eyes as he licks them clean. He groans like he hasn't ever tasted anything as delicious as you.

"Made a mess, didn't you?" He asks softly.

You nod, barely conscious enough to do that, still coming down from your high.

"Think you can do it again f'me? Hm?" He asks, bringing his hand down to pump his dick which is dripping with precum.

You nod again, "Mhm. I can do it Jim, promise."

He smiles down at you, "Ok pretty girl, let's see."

He pumps his cock a few more times before he slowly inserts it into you, a wet squelching sound emanating from your folds. He groans and his head falls backwards as he thrusts into you, the base of his dick meeting your hips. You moan loudly, straining against his hand holding your wrists to the desk. His other free hand grabs your right leg and pushes it back and out slightly, allowing his to thrust into you deeper and at a new angle.

"Fuck Jim, faster please," You moan out, your eyes beginning to become unfocused.

His thrusts become faster, rougher, the sounds of skin on skin echoes around the office. If anyone were to walk in there would be no hiding what the two of you were doing, no lying your way out of this one. That thought only made you clench harder around Jim, causing his hips to stutter.

"I'm so fucking close Y/N," He whimpers out between thrusts, taking his hand off your wrists in order to circle your clit again.

His thrusts became erratic, forcing you to grip his arm that was holding onto your thigh. You gripped the edge of the desk behind your head with your other hand to stop you from moving on the desk. Your vision went white as you came, your pussy clenching Jim's dick causing his hips to stutter, pulling out and coming on your soaked folds and thighs.

"Fuck. Fuck Y/N," Jim muttered as he slumps down in your office chair that was pulled out from your desk.

"Yeah... How the hell am I going to sit next to you Monday?" You ask, half joking.

"I guess we'll just have to do it again," He responds, smirking at you.

Destroy the myth that libraries are no longer relevant. If you use your library, please reblog.

Everything from Shelby’s vod

It took Shelby 10 months after the relationship to heal

Wilbur cared more about how it looked

It was subtle in the way Wilbur abused

It didn’t start out with Wilbur hurting Shelby out right

Wilbur wanted to make sure that Shelby was ok with the biting so that she couldn’t come back later and say he abused her

As time went on, Wilbur kept biting too hard more and more frequently

Wilbur decided that he didn’t want to keep “accidentally” hurting Shelby so they came up with a safe word

Wilbur made it seem normal and told his friends and made it seem like a bit to take Shelby’s arm and bite it in front of everyone until she has to shot in pain. And she just has to laugh it off

Shelby kept telling Wilbur after these bits happen that she didn’t like it and that he needed to stop biting so hard

Wilbur replied that this is who he is and he wasn’t going to change.

Wilbur would constantly contradict himself and then try and gaslight Shelby, that he didn’t say these things and how do you know that it’s not your memory being false

Eventually, Wilbur weaponized the safe word and used it insure that Shelby was hurt and on a constant basis

Wilbur wasn’t sorry anymore. He had stopped apologizing so long ago that Shelby doesn’t remember the last time he had apologized

Now, sometimes Wilbur would bite Shelby so hard, she would yell out the safe word because it hurt so bad.

Instead of letting go, Wilbur clamped down even harder or he would grind his teeth down.

He would sometimes smile after.

At one point Wilbur had pinned Shelby down and asked her to try her absolute hardest to get him off of her and she couldn’t do it

He said something to make the point that he was so much stronger than her. That she wouldn’t be able to fight back.

Wilbur said he didn’t have time and energy to do the stuff that Shelby was asking for and then would constantly make any sorta time and energy for anything but her

Shelby was constantly anxious, nauseous all the time, gagging daily, occasionally throwing up because of the bit in her stomach

Shelby would tell Wilbur that she felt unwanted and ignored and he would reassure her that he loved her and that he loved her more than she loved him

Wilbur would INSIST that he loved her more.

Wilbur was love bombing Shelby at the beginning of their relationship.

One month into their relationship, Wilbur was talking about them being soulmates, about forever, about how he wanted to be a dad

On the decline of the relationship, Wilbur doesn’t want kids at all and he has NEVER wanted kids

So Shelby brought up marriage and Wilbur said that he still wanted to marry her

Now, he instead says, “I’m not the commitment guy. You know that.”

Shelby did not know that.

By the end, before Wilbur went on tour, he was basically flaunting that he would never prioritize Shelby over anything

Wilbur was never gonna prioritize Shelby over anything that would give him more fame or money.

He said that himself, directly to Shelby.

Wilbur said he wanted to see how much fame and money he could get.

Wilbur admitted that he had grown to resent Shelby

This was the final push to get Shelby out of that relationship

After the relationship ended, Wilbur was “kind” enough to ship Shelby back her clothes

Only her clothes.

Wilbur trashed everything else.

He lived in filth.

Wilbur would spill things and never clean them up

Wilbur got an ant infestation once and was never gonna do anything about because he said bugs are normal in British houses

Wilbur wouldn’t clean his bathroom for months and months and months but would constantly complain about how bad it smelled

Shelby then told him that it was mold.

But Wilbur would insist that it wasn’t mold even though he hadn’t cleaned in months

When they met, Wilbur was washing his clothes without detergent and then hanging it on his filthy kitchen cabinets

Shelby found out after they broke up that Wilbur didn’t clean at all when she wasn’t there because he just waited for her to get there to do it

Shelby was paying for all the cleaning supplies like soap and paper towels

Shelby was paying for food more than half the time because Wilbur would push her to order for them even if she had paid for the previous meals

Shelby was also paying for every plane ticket and every cat-sitter and Wilbur never offered to help her pay

Shelby told Wilbur that she couldn’t afford doing this all the time so he offered to pay for the cat-sitter from now on

He did that once.

And then never again.

Shelby has said all this because Wilbur is dangerous.

He was willing to lie.

He was willing to do harm to the someone he claimed to love more than anyone he had ever loved.

Wilbur’s actions escalated slowly over time and Shelby wont be the last person that he hurts.

Please note that this is everything I’ve gather from watching the vod. If I missed something, just add it on in a reblog. If you still support this disgusting excuse of a human being after knowing that he did this, you are a bad person.

Always listen to the victim

Reblog to have the most homoerotic year of your life 2024

yall better be just as outraged about this as you were about notre dame

Red

Summary: Spencer can’t keep his eyes off your mouth. It must be your new red lipstick.

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Oral (M receiving)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. Reader

See My Masterlist Here

“At least try it on. I’m sure it will look great on you.” Penelope pleads with you. You sigh, picking up the tube of red lipstick Emily got you for your Secret Santa gift. You had never been a big fan of colorful lipstick, always sticking to the nude shades you were comfortable with.

You look down at your dress, a sparkly, black mini dress that hugged your body in all the right places. You were going to a New Year’s Eve party at Rossi’s. JJ, Emily, and Penelope were going to be dressed to the nines. You didn’t want to feel left out. So, you hesitantly bring the tube to your lips, slowly applying the color. You push your bottom lip out, pouting to get a good look.

Surprisingly, it looked great on you. “Wow! You’re a total babe!” Penelope squeals, lightly shaking your shoulders. You take a few selfies together before leaving for the party.

“Baby girl, looking good as always. And who is this stone cold fox?” Derek jokes pulling you in for a hug. Spencer peeks around the corner, to see what all the commotion was. You smile at him, waving slightly. He smiles back, dark eyes twinkling as he looks at you. His gaze stops on your lips.

You notice he swallows thickly, large hands wringing together nervously. His eyes fall to the floor when he notices you watching him carefully. You frown, wondering what that was all about.

Drinks are flowing as Rossi sets the table with the dinner he made for everyone. While you’re eating, you can’t help but be aware of Spencer, who can’t keep his eyes off you. No, not you, your mouth. Every time you take a bite, Spencer’s fork loudly clinks against his plate.

A drop of sauce falls on your bottom lip, when your tongue darts out to lick it off, Spencer chokes on his wine. He puts a hand up, shyly signaling that he is okay.

After dinner, the team separates in the back yard. Emily and Hotch are talking, suspiciously close together. Penelope is almost in Derek’s lap, giggling as he whispers in her ear. JJ, Will, and Rossi are filling up their glasses at the wine station Rossi set up.

You and Spencer finish cleaning up in the kitchen. He walks way, heading for the back door. You catch his wrist, wrapping your hand around it. “Come here.” You walk toward the guest bedroom Rossi said was yours for the night. You open the door, the creaking so loud, you’re afraid you might get caught sneaking around.

You shut it quietly behind Spencer as he walks in. “What are you doing?” He asks, scrunching up his nose. “I noticed that you keep staring at me, or my lips I should say.” He swallows, his adams apple slightly bobbing. “I - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ You push him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting the mattress as you shove him down.

“Shhh. No need to apologize. I don’t mind the staring. I like it.” He runs his hands through his mess of curls as you sink down on your knees in front of him. You reach for the button on his slacks, when you feel him grip your wrists to stop you.

“You don’t have to do that.” You twist your hands, freeing yourself. “I know I don’t have to, Spencer. I want to. Loosen up, live a little.” At your request, he helps you by undoing his pants, and sliding them down his legs.

His impressive length throbs as you stroke it gently, bringing it to your lips. You slowly trace a vein with your tongue, loving the way he shivers under your attention. You drag your tongue languidly over him, swirling around the head as your hand grips the base.

His breath hitches when you finally take him all the way in, lips sealing around him. You lock eyes with him as you begin to suck. “Oh fuck, that feels so good.” He praises you. You clench your thighs together, Spencer hardly ever cursed. It was beyond sexy to watch him come apart because of you.

Spencer whimpers as you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper. His long fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you further down on him. Saliva drips off your chin onto his thighs, as you struggle to take him. When you adjust to his size, you swallow around him, earning a whimper from him. His knuckles turn white as he grips the comforter on the bed.

“I’m gonna c-“ He starts, tapping on your head so you can stop if you want. The fucked out look in his brown eyes makes you pick up your pace. You lock your arms around his thighs, pulling him to you. You flatten your tongue, pursing your lips as you suck harshly, tightening your throat around him. Your name falls from his lips like a prayer as he spills down your throat.

You remove him from your mouth, confidently sticking your tongue out to show him you had swallowed every drop he gave you. Spencer blushes, throwing his arm over his face as he lays back against the mattress. “I need a minute.” He tells you. You walk over to the mirror on the wall, using your thumbs to wipe away the mess on your chin and tidy up your smeared lipstick. You look at your phone to see it was a little after midnight. “Happy New Year.” You say over your shoulder, as you leave the room.

Tags

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @wheredafandomat @cynbx @lover-of-books-and-tea @lamentis-10 @zzumkii @megharat-barnes-reid @anonymously-ominous @kats72 @vivian-555 @itzdarling @emarich7 @nomajdetective @aelinismyqueen @wildernessflora @academiareid @loz-3

Reblog to kill it faster

can i request a Sal Vulcano x reader smut where Sal is a bottom and they have super kinky sex?

Sal Vulcano Smut

That picture of Sal is me rn reading this prompt...

ANYWAYS, you said you wanted Sal to be a bottom, and you wanted super kinky sex, so I (think) I delivered! I hope you like it!

(Just a warning, I have never written for Sal or for anyone being a bottom, so if it's bad, that's why)

Warnings: Use of Y/N; Porn/Little Plot; Dom/Sub Dynamics (if you squint); Bondage; Oral (male receiving); Handjob; Edging; Vibrator Usage (male receiving); Petnames (Baby, Sweetheart);

Smut Ensues Below The Cut

18+, you have been warned!

Sal was going crazy as you straddled him, tying his hands to the headboard with his tie. You moved quickly and efficiently, carefully moving as to not accidentally graze his lap, as he only had his boxers left on. He had stripped the rest of his clothes off before you both even made it to the bed. You had somehow managed to keep your dress, which was very revealing he might add, during the initial minutes.

When you finished tying him up you slowly made your way back down to the edge of the bed, your dress riding up your hips and your head becoming level with his lap. His erection was very visible from where you were kneeling on the bed. You slowly grazed your hand up his thigh. You could feel the muscles clench as you made your way to his clothed mound. When your hand reached his covered erection he moaned.

"Fuck. Please just touch me Y/N." He whimpered as you squeezed him through his boxers, a wet patch of precum dampening the fabric. "Please!"

You wrap your hand around him as well as you can through the boxers and start to rub him, the movement of your hand and the rough friction from the fabric causing him to moan loudly. You clench your thighs as the sound of Sal makes your lower stomach flutter.

"Please baby! I'm so close! P-please!" Sal manages to say through breathy moans.

"I know baby, I can feel it," You respond in a purposefully sultry voice. And you can feel how close he is, his dick twitching in your grip and his boxers becoming drenched in his precum.

Before he could come you pulled away, leaving him breathless and frustrated. His chest was heaving, sweat starting to gather on his shirtless frame, his hair starting to stick to his face. His eyes began to refocus as you pulled down his boxers.

"Couldn't let you go off and come in your underwear now could I baby? Got to take care of you nice and good," You said, soothing him as he whined.

As soon as his boxers were on the floor next to his pants and shirt, you wrapped your fingers around his long, girthy member, and squeezed slightly as precum dripped down your fingers. You could barely contain the urge to lick up the salty substance, but you did so that you could thoroughly enjoy what was to come. You slowly began to move your hand, your other hand gripping his thigh to keep you upright. His dick twitched as more precum gathered at the base of his erection, pooling in the small little patches of dark hair gathered there.

You licked your lips as he moaned, saying your name under his breath as he whimpered and whined for you to move faster. You, unable to deny him when he was like this, sped up, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand. Your thumb trailed along the slit at his tip, forcing him almost over the edge. You were barely keeping your own feelings down, your stomach clenching and your thighs desperately creating friction between your legs. Your panties, the special lacy ones you wore for tonight, drenched from hearing Sal's moans.

"I'm gonna come! Y/N I- I'm gonna-" Sal moaned loudly, his voice cutting out from how strained his voice was.

However, before he could come, you decided it would be fun to edge him for just a little while longer, and pulled away, causing him to strain against his restraints and cry out.

"I know. I know. But I have a surprise for you okay? You're gonna like it baby, alright?" You told Sal, having one last surprise for him before you could allow him to come.

"Fuck! Please just touch me! I don't care how just-" He grunted before giving up and going slack against his restraints.

You decided to tease him a bit before you continued, "Aww. Are you upset that I won't let you come? Hmm? Well, with that attitude you won't come all night? Do you want that sweetheart? Huh baby?"

Sal hadn't even noticed that you were creeping off the bed, all he could say were half muttered apologies, barely conscious enough to say them.

"Please! Y/N I promise... I promise I'll be good. Won't say anything else, just please touch me," Sal said, finally coming down enough to realize what you meant.

You, now fully off the bed, grabbed a small box you had brought into the bedroom earlier in the night. You opened it, and inside lay a small vibrator and some short silk ropes.

You climbed back onto the bed and began to tie Sal's ankles to the end to the bed. You wanted him to be under your full control for this moment. After you finished with his ankles, you looked up at him through your thick eyelashes and saw he was looking down at you, his face red and damp from heat and sweat. God, how did you get this damn lucky?

You crawled in between his now-separated legs and wrapped your mouth around the tip of his cock. He let out a shocked gasp as you sucked and licked his slit, his deliciously salty precum finally filling your mouth. You moaned around his erection, his moans and whimpers filling the air around you.

You slipped your mouth off of his cock with a pop! You quickly wrapped your hand back around his dick so he wouldn't complain, and with your other hand you grabbed the vibrator sitting next to you. A buzzing filled the air as soon as you hit the button, and you silently took in Sal's expression. His glossy eyes looking at you, mesmerized by both your hand jerking him off and the small little black toy in your hand.

You suddenly placed the buzzing toy on his slit while your hand moved up and down around him. He immediately let out a long, deep groan, jerking his head back and his hips up as much as he could with his restraints.

"You like that baby? Hm?" You asked pressing the toy harder against his slit and squeezed around him with your hand.

"Y- oh fuck yes!" Sal moaned aloud.

You were sur the neighbors could hear you now, but you really didn't care. You pressed the button again, turning the toy to a higher power, watching Sal's precum glaze both the toy and your fingers as it dripped down from his now-swollen tip. His face was drenched in sweat, and his hair was wet and flat on his forehead. His chest heaved and his thighs clenched as he became close.

"Y/N! Please let me come! I was good! I- I was so good! Please let me come for you!" Sal yelled out, his hips attempting to thrust into the toy and your hand faster.

You put the toy up to a higher power and moved your hand faster, a wet slapping sound emitting from where your hand hits his pelvis.

"Come for be baby. Come on. You can do it baby, yeah." You cooed as he came, his white seed spilling over the toy and covering you fingers as you slowly brought him down from his high.

When he began whining, you took away the toy and your hand, licking his salty cum from your fingers. You stood up, walking to the headboard, and untied his wrists, throwing the tie onto the ground. You then walked around and did the same thing to both ankles.

Before you could walk away and grab a washcloth to clean him up, he grabbed you by the wrist and spun you around.

He gave you a small kiss on the lips, then whispered, "I think it's your turn now, sweetheart."

Animals (j.m. oneshot)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: dbf!joel miller x afab!reader

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI

Summary: Joel randomly calls you and tells you to meet him outside. Your parents are home though, and you can't necessarily tell them that Joel, your father's best friend, is asking you to go with him somewhere. Do you give a little white lie and leave, or do you wait until it's safer?

W/C: 2.5k

Warnings: Age gap (unspecified, but legal). Reader still lives with parents but she is an adult. Nosy and controlling ass parents to their child who's a grown ass adult. Inappropriate car activities while driving. Handjob. Blowjob. Pulling into a parking lot in broad daylight to do some stuff... P in V unprotected. ✨Save a horse, ride a cowboy (in a parking lot)✨ Reader has bit of a size kink. Cum swallowing... Is there a term for kissing with semen in both y'all's mouths??? (Don't look at me...). Possessive kink. Spanking (just once though). Getting caught... Exhibitionism...😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 I think that’s as much as I can say without spoiling anything, so! After you read it, let me know if there’s anything that I should put in here that I missed out on!

A/N: One of my all-time favorite song is Animals by Nickelback. As of lately, though, with all my Joel brain rot, I can't NOT think DBF!Joel every time I play it... so... here we are... I recommend listening before or when you read, just to really add to the experience hehehe.😈😈😈 @javierpena-inatacvest I hope you’re hungry!😋 Enjoy, y’all!!!

Feral animals under the cut…

You’re beside me on the seat,

Got your hand between my knees,

And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze.

“Two minutes, get your ass outside.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. You blindly brought your phone up to your ear with your parents in the room with you, not taking the time to check the caller ID. 

“I-” you start as you head to the bathroom, not wanting your parents to overhear anything. “I can’t just leave right now, and especially not with you.” He scoffs over the phone. “I was at the dining table with my parents, jackass.” 

“But you’re not anymore, right?” 

“No.”

“And they didn’t question you?”

“Didn’t give them the chance to.”

“Just get out here. I’ll drive off quick, no one will see,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Joel,” you say, your tone betraying your logical responses.

“Now,” he says before ending the call. 

Your heart racing, you peer at yourself in the mirror, making sure you look semi-presentable even though you know Joel’s intentions are going to ruin your appearance anyway. You leave the bathroom, heading for the front door as fast as possible. 

“Who called ya?” your dad asked. 

“Going somewhere?” your mother followed.

“Just a friend. And I’m gonna step out real quick, I’ll be back in a bit,” you say nonchalantly, not trying to raise any suspicion. Your mother raises her brow at you. 

“I really hope you both find the value in respecting people’s privacy,” you say, stepping out the front door as you speak, erasing the chances of any further commentary. That may have come across more harsh than you would have liked, but even into adulthood, the three of you have gotten into huge fights for your whereabouts. It’s not like you left them in the dark all the time or kept them up late waiting for you to get home. You were living under their roof, so you still respected their time. Yet, it was never enough. And you were too wound up thinking about Joel to bite your tongue.

He parked a house away, and you’re practically running at the speed of light to get into the passenger side so he can pull away before your parents decide to make it to the window to gain any more information they can. 

As soon as you get into the passenger seat, though, Joel has different plans as he immediately puts one hand around your waist and the other on the thigh closest to him. You’re barely able to shut the door before he pulls you into the middle of the bench seat of his truck, your body flushed against his. You squeak out at his quickness, his strength. He smirks at it. 

He lets his hand on your thigh drag up your body and situate itself on your jaw, turning your face to his and kissing you deeply, all tongue and teeth and thickened spit due to how fucking turned on both of you are. 

You pull away, breathless, “Baby, you need to drive off, now.”

“Shit, sorry,” he says, releasing his hold on you. “Stop distractin’ me,” he playfully scolds, a smile full of trouble across his face as he pulls out of the neighborhood. 

You scoff at him now, perplexed at his audacity to tell you that you’re distracting him. It makes an idea pop in your head. You’ll show him a distraction. 

You shift your body to face him. Your hand lands on his thigh, running up and down lightly, getting closer to his hardened bulge that’s been begging for your attention since he dialed your number. 

His grip on the wheel tightens, his jaw twitching, “Darlin’,” he grits. “What are you doin’?”

“Oh, nothing,” you say as you lean in closer, licking a stripe up his neck, your mouth at his ear. “Just,” you cup his erection, “being a distraction.”

His hips push up into your hand. He is painfully hard right now, his entire neck and face a bright red from your ministrations. You unzip his jeans, pulling it and his underwear down to let his cock free. You moan at the sight.

“I’m warnin’ you, girl.”

“Want me to stop?” 

Silence. 

He moves his arm closest to you to sprawl along the back of the bench seat, giving you complete access to him as he attempts to drive you two to God knows where. 

You scoot closer in, and let out a content giggle. You place a wet kiss at his pulse point, whispering in his ear, “Thought so, baby.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth and let your spit pool in your hand, bringing it back down to his length, spreading it all over before you wrap your fingers around him.

“Joel, baby, fuck-” you moan in his ear as you slowly begin pumping him, “look how fucking big you are in my hands,” you whine. “Can barely wrap my hand around you,” you say as you nip at his neck again. 

Joel begs his eyes to stay on the road, knowing that if he were to look down right now, he’d lose every ounce of his control — on both his self restraint and his damn truck. But, God damn, the slapping sound of your hand on his spit-soaked cock as you whine and writhe at his side has him desperate. He glances down for barely a millisecond, and he can’t help the groan that leaves his throat, his head threatening to throw itself back in utter pleasure. 

“Am I doing good, baby?” You ask him. “A good distraction?” You add, your lips ghosting his jaw with each syllable. 

“F-fuckin H-hell, baby,” he stutters, hips softly meeting every push and pull of your hand. “G-gonna make me c-crash this f-fuckin’ car.” 

With his admission, your grip gets a little tighter, pumps get a little faster, and you're giving extra attention to the head of his cock. He’s pulsing beneath you, breathing erratic, and you can’t stop the urge to lean down and take him into your mouth. 

On instinct, Joel’s foot falls a little heavier on the gas, causing him to drive a little roughly over a bump on the road. His dick pushes deeper into your mouth, causing the tip to hit at the back of your throat. 

The spit that forms from your gag reflex gives you an easier ability to devour him just as he likes—warm, wet, and sloppy. Your head begins to bob faster, your hand still supporting the base of him as you periodically cup him below, and he’s an absolute mess. 

You pull away for one moment in a choked breath, your hand now jacking him off, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I know you’re close, baby, I feel it,” you gasp out as your hand squeezes a little more, at the pressure you know makes him break. “Need you to cum, baby, need you to fill my fucking throat,” and with that, your mouth is back on him. 

“Oh, f-fu-…” Joel nearly growls out, immediately pulling into some random parking lot, thankful the nearest slot was empty. The second the car is in park, he’s shooting his load down your throat, his hand flying to the back of your head to keep you stuffed full of him. 

The way that you’re so turned on right now just by giving him the sloppiest head he has ever experienced has you absolutely dripping—an absolute moaning mess, vibrating him into overstimulation. He pulls you off, and you can’t help the blissed out smirk that forms on your face as you swallow almost everything he gave you, residue dripping down your chin. 

He brings your face to his, and his tongue collects up his own spend, feeding it back to you in a desperate, sloppy kiss—if you can even call it that. 

As your lips tangle in a nasty embrace, he’s quick to rip your bottoms off as he settles you on his lap. The feel on your pussy of his spent cock slowly getting erect again has you moaning into his mouth, your hips grinding down onto him, arousal coating him, urging him back to his full, hard length. 

“Sh-shit,” falls from your mouth as his trails further down, leaving kisses down your throat. Joel brings his hand down to pump himself a few more times, ensuring he’s at full attention. Your hips lift up on instinct, Joel notching his tip at your soaking entrance. 

You lower yourself onto him, going in with ease with how wet both you and him are, the stretch of him still providing that delicious burn. No matter how prepared or lubed up either of you are, that burn will never go away. You never want it to. It flips a certain switch of lust within you—an animalistic need—knowing just how fucking big he is, knowing that it’s all for you. 

Usually when you’re on top, he’s extra sensitive, and you wait for him to give the signal for you to move. That need is there, though, and you can’t wait. As soon as your hips are flushed with his, you’re immediately lifting back up and dropping down on him again, maintaining a brutal pace that has you both uttering incoherent filth. 

You place your hands on either side of his head, gripping the back of his seat to give you better momentum as you bounce on him. His hands are gripping at the globes of your ass, guiding your movements, fingertip-shaped bruises threatening to form. “Fuck, sweet girl,” he lets out, “just like that, baby.” His face is nuzzled in between your breasts, nipping and licking at them with every bounce of your thrusts. 

His words cause your pussy to flutter, a possessive feeling gliding down your spine. Your one hand releases the chair and grasps at the curls on the base of his neck. “T-tell me,” you stutter, “t-tell me who my p-pussy belongs to,” you get out, licking into his mouth before you let him answer. 

His hips begin to meet your movements, his pubic bone providing the cherry on top to unravel you. His lips are against yours, breaths intertwining into the thick air, windows beginning to fog. “Mine,” Joel growls. Your hips speed up, the truck shaking and squeaking with every movement. “This pussy is mine. You,” he breathes, “are fuckin’ mine,” a stinging pain fills your senses before your brain registers the slap to your ass. 

Your thighs begin to shake and your body goes rigid, your climax teetering against the edge. 

“Joel,” you cry out. 

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, let go for me,” he coos. And just as he’s about to hold you down to fuck up into you, a car parks right next to you, door immediately slamming as the person gets out and urgently peers into the driver’s side window. 

Both of you are too close to stop your movements, the person’s face outside the car falling into pure horror and shock at what’s going on inside. 

“Oh!” you scream out, both of you using all your strength to stop but unable to.

“That’s my dad outside the car!”

Oh please, the keys, they’re not in the ignition,

Must have wound up on the floor while we were switching our positions. 

Before you know it, you’re pulsing around his cock as he fills up another one of your holes with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Neither of you realize just when your father scrambled back into his car and drove away, but the idea of getting caught turned both of you on more than you’d ever admit. 

You don’t get off of him just yet, both of you sitting in each other’s sweaty embrace as you let your breathing and heart rates return to normal. 

“So…” he says, rubbing circles on the small of your back. 

You look up at him, chin perched on his chest. “So,” you giggle. 

“What the fuck do we do?” he asks, wordlessly referring to the mishap with your father.

Not as worried, you mess with him before giving a serious answer. “Mmm,” you say as you place a light kiss to his chest, “I was thinking you give me your boxers since you ripped the only bottoms I have on me, and you deal with the jeans chafing your balls until you get back home.”

His eyes go wide, completely forgetting that he did that, and silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid. Luckily he decided to actually wear underwear today.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m so sorry, I just-” he pauses for a moment. “You fuckin’ distracted me!” he says before he completely busts out in laughter, a deep howl filling the car. You smack his chest, your laughter following suit. 

“You motherfucker,” you say, sitting up a little straighter, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. 

He smiles at you, pure warmth and adoration in his eyes. He clears his throat, his face a little more serious. “I, uh, I was actually talkin’ about your old man, though.”

“I know,” you say, completely unbothered.

“Are you not worried?”

You shrug your shoulders. “No.”

“You don’t think he’s gonna try and wring my neck out?”

“Baby,” you laugh, “no, he’s not gonna wring your neck out. I wouldn’t let him, anyway.”

“Oh, gee. Thanks,” he deadpans.

“I promise you, I’ve got it taken care of.”

His fingers grasp your chin, pulling you in for another kiss, a little longer than the last. “I trust you.”

As soon as you enter the front door, you see both your parents at the dining table again. Though, this time around, instead of controlling and angry, they look pale and embarrassed. 

You stroll to the dining table, not caring to sit down, and you get straight to the point. They can’t even look you in the eye. 

“So? Did we learn our lesson about-”

“Yes,” your parents say in unison, “please just,” your mother continues as your dad starts to retreat anywhere else but here. “Let’s not talk about it.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. 

“You’re a grown woman,” your mother says, rigidly. “It’s really not our business what you do anymore.” You peer at your father. He throws a thumbs up at your mother’s words, eyes still trained on everything else but you. 

“Glad ya guys came to your senses,” you say, offering a smug smile. You can’t help it. If catching you having the steamiest sex in an older man’s car is what causes them to stop breathing down your neck, then so be it. You’d have intentionally done something like this ages ago if that’s what it took. 

You start heading to your room when your dad finally speaks. Still unable to look you in the eyes. “Tell Joel I don’t give a fuck what he does—what y’all do—just,” he pauses to take a breath. “Tell him not to address any of this with me. Ever.”

“Deal.”

No, no matter where we go,

‘Cause everybody knows,

We’re just a couple animals. 

End Note: Well. That killed me. The amount of laps I took writing this...🥴 Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. Also, I try my best to make sure I don’t leave any stones unturned, so if there’s a detail I introduced but never really addressed its significance or gave that detail its full circle moment, please let me know because my perfectionism would like me to fix it immediately :,). All my love! Xo

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The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 2 (2012)