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stevenose · 11 months

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don’t delete the kisses - 4/?

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a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: gender unspecified reader; modern/camboy!steve; pining!!!!!!! so much pining!; eddie munson on thin fuckin ice!; whatever vickie and robin’s ship name is; drug use (mary juana!); reader gets too high, steve takes care of them; accidental confession!; inner panic!

author’s note: sorry for the lack of sexy in this! more sexy coming soon - for now enjoy two idiots pining for each other :)

it’s been a month. 30 days. and you’ve been doing so good.

you’re like a reformed pervert. sure, it’s flirty. steve’s got a knack for being a charmer whether he means to be or not. but you’re so good at acting casual, at hiding your obvious want for him. reminding yourself that the embarrassment of telling him that you’ve watched him - jerked off to him - and of being wrong about it is just too much. a relationship that starts with doing things behind each other’s backs was most likely bound to fail.

and, really - you’re doing good! so is steve. he’s got enough money to pay for a few month’s rent at a place in indianapolis and he moves there with robin. totally covers her rent for her so she can find a school and a job somewhere good while he considers his own prospects away from their tiny hometown. they’re farther away, but having their own space has many benefits. you’ll be free to hang out without ever-watching adults, free to smoke and drink and be generally stupid.

you’re invited to their housewarming party, which is coming up this saturday.

“i’ll see if i can make it,” you tell steve, just to hear him groan at you. it’s different - he’s on the other side of the counter now, no longer an employee. a customer, if you can even call him that. he’s mostly just a handsome nuance.

“come on,” he says, reaching for you, making you smile and duck your head as you turn around to stack some DVDs. “after all i’ve done for you?”

“you mean like quit your job? you know i’m the only one here now.”

“i’m sorry!” he cries. “how about i just pay you instead?”

“sure,” you laugh. “for what?”

and when your eyes lock, his brown irises are a little deepened, intense. you feel entirely too hot. you’re quick to face away from him completely, fucking around with the inventory system. “i’ll be there, steve, you know i will.”

“promise?” he asks, leaning across the counter as far as he can, poking you in the back with his pinky. you reach back and take it in yours.

“pinky.”

“pack a bag. in case,” he adds quickly. “eddie’s… supplying. not that it’s any good.”

“you mean my close personal friend eddie munson will be at your party? i’m absolutely coming now.”

steve makes a gruff noise behind you. “i’ve gotta go get some things from my house - my parents house. text me, okay?”

and while you do text, the tone has shifted substantially since the night you nearly sexted. it’s almost sickening how boring it is. he’s only ever not treating you like you’re made of porcelain when you’re with him in person. you sort of wish it was the opposite.

===

you feel so stupid arriving with your overnight kanken in the backseat. no way you’re spending the night. where would you even sleep? robin and steve hardly have a couch. it’s a thrift store find and you’re not even one hundred percent certain it’s not filled with bed bugs. vickie’ll be here for robin, you’re sure, so the floor of her room is out. and sleeping in steve’s room makes you feel a little nauseous and giddy.

you swallow it.

steve’s quick to greet you when you knock, wrapping you in a hug like he really didn’t think you’d come. even after you’d texted him.

on my way!

You mean it? 🥺

yes

silly

Don’t text and drive. Silly.

there’s a good sized crowd inside. nothing too insane. some kids steve knows who he’s constantly cleaning up after - “dickheads! this is new carpet!” - and some friends of robin’s from band. she hugs you heavy when she sees you, beaming wide before going back to her place beside vickie. “you know vickie, don’t you?”

it’s something robin always does. it’s like she’s so enamored with vickie that she has to show her off - which is adorable.

“we’ve met,” you say, waving. “anything good to drink?”

“robin made sangria,” vickie says. she blushes when robin squeezes her hand.

“incredible,” you answer, “i’m going to try it out!”

eddie munson nearly body slams you when you enter their kitchen. “shit! didn’t see ya,” he says, steadying you. he’s quick to let go and take a step back. “hey,” he says. “i’ve been - meaning to talk to you. i’m real sorry about the thing… at the place. at the restaurant.”

you furrow your brows as you grab a cup. “i’m sorry?”

“for how i acted,” he insists. “i’m sorry i made you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t!” you laugh.

eddie falters just slightly. “oh. steve - nevermind.”

you pause. steve what? steve told him you were uncomfortable? it’s so beyond the truth. but if you think about it, you can maybe understand why that happened, and it makes your stomach flip.

“we’re good, dude,” you say, clapping him on the shoulder. “now where’s that shit weed i was promised?”

===

you’d been so good. really good! you hadn’t even smoked in a month, afraid of what you might say or do around steve if you did. but this is a safe space. you wouldn’t dare humiliate yourself in front of other people. it’s a celebration, anyway, and you’re not in the mood to drink tonight. steve catches you taking a joint from eddie (“it’s not shit weed!”) and he joins you outside, on his big terrace.

“not bad,” you say, nodding as you look around at the second hand patio furniture. “really not bad.”

“thanks,” he says, taking a seat, watching you. you wonder why, because it’s not that kind of wow, i can’t take my eyes off of you look you sometimes catch him with. it’s a little more parental, like how he looks at the henderson and mayfield kids.

“wanna share?” you ask, holding it out to him after lighting it. he nods and takes it from you. there’s something intimate about sharing it that neither of you want to discuss.

“maybe we should slow down, huh?” he says after a moment.

“i’ve only taken three hits?” you say.

“well - but you haven’t smoked in a while, right?”

you scoff, understanding now. “i don’t think my tolerance has gone down that much. and i thought you said this stuff wasn’t any good?”

he sort of shrugs, but he doesn’t extend the joint back to you.

“stevie,” you sing. “i’m a grown up. did you forget?”

he’s got this look of slight irritation that you can tell he’s trying to swallow down. he doesn’t know how to fight you on this. he has no right to. he’s hesitant when he hands it back to you, letting you take one more puff before he snatches it from you and puts it out in an ashtray.

“hey!”

“we can smoke again in ten - fifteen minutes. let’s just see how we’re feeling, okay? eddie’s new stuff is a little strong.”

“so am i.”

“okay,” he grins. “you can beat me up about it later.”

you feel fine - totally normal - until steve takes your hands and helps you out of the low sitting chair you were in. once you stand, the world starts spinning. steve’s skin on yours makes you panic and you’re quick to pull away. pull it together. you know the second you admit you smoked too much you’re fucked. you have to fake it til you make it, chanting to yourself that you’re okay as you follow steve inside.

and as you’re sitting on that maybe bed bug-infested couch, you feel more and more out of it. it’s insanely difficult to listen to anything anyone’s saying. the only thing keeping you grounded is steve, with his thick thigh pressing right up into yours. the warmth reminds you of where you are, but it’s fleeting. you’re soon staring across the room, blazed out of your mind, increasingly more anxious.

“hey,” someone says. you look over dumbly. it’s eddie. “you okay?”

steve’s in your line of vision now, leaning over to look at you. he’s frowning.

“yeah,” you say. “why?”

eddie laughs loudly. “i think you’re a little fucked up.”

“i’m a lotta fucked up,” you admit.

people laugh. but there’s steve, frowning a little more, brows furrowed.

“hey,” he says softly. you’re so honed in on him. like he’s the only thing in the world. “can i get you some water?”

“uh huh.” although you don’t really know what you agreed to. you’re a little lost in those honey eyes, a little enamored because he’s looking at you like he cares about you. it’s common, really, but it seems to mean more in this moment.

robin takes over when he gets up, scooting in close and putting her hand on your shoulder. “you’re okay,” she promises, rubbing it soothingly. “you’re good, just need a few minutes, right?”

“yeah.”

she looks over at eddie and even though you can’t really understand in the moment, she hisses, “steve’s totally gonna kick your ass.”

“i know,” he sighs, scooting in front of you. “i’m sorry, that shit’s a little strong. i shoulda warned you. you’re gonna be okay, just twenty minutes and you’ll be feeling good.”

your head snaps into overdrive. you have enough capacity to know you’re insanely embarrassed and the way they’re babying you is actually scaring you. like maybe they don’t even believe what they’re saying. steve comes back and forces his way between you and eddie, handing you a bottle of water, cap already off. “just drink some for me, okay?”

but you don’t want to. you’re scared. he can tell.

“let’s go somewhere quiet, huh?” he offers, gently taking your hands. you let him. he helps you up and sighs at how off-balance you are. there’s a staircase to traverse - it’s a nice apartment - and he has you lean on him while he helps you along. he takes an extra second to glare daggers into eddie. “you’re -“

“-gonna get my fuckin’ ass kicked, i know,” eddie says, throwing himself down on the floor dramatically.

===

the ooohs that follow steve as he’s leading you upstairs to the bedrooms makes him legitimately feel sick. the catcalls are the least of his concern, though, especially with you struggling beside him. he can tell you’re anxious, can feel and see you struggling to take a deep breath. he wants nothing more than to hold you until you’re calmed down, but he has to force those thoughts away as he guides you into his bedroom.

“sorry for the mess,” he mumbles. he’s still unpacking. there’s a few cardboard boxes filled with clothes and trophies scattered around, but it’s otherwise pretty organized. he leans you against the door as he moves across the room to turn on a lamp.

“huh,” you say.

“what?” he smiles, turning around to retrieve you.

you point at his bedspread. “that’s different.”

“what’s different?” he chuckles, putting his arm around you again. “this okay?”

you don’t answer him. “wasnt it, like, checkered?”

“my bedsheets?”

and he pauses. he stops walking. because they were checkered - he treated himself to some more grown up, modern ones when he moved out, thinking they’ll look a little better on camera. but how did you know…?

“and where’s the bowling pin?” you continue, pointing now towards his desk.

and he realizes. immediately.

“did you-?”

but he drops it. you’re in no position to talk about it - you might not even realize or remember that you did. but if you could only answer the question that’s been driving him crazy since the day you started acting weird around him. did you watch my videos?

so he swallows it down, forces himself to stay composed even though he’s losing his mind internally. he gets you on the bed pulling the covers back. he can’t help the smile that breaks across his face when you hit the sheets, sighing dreamily. “they smell like you,” you say.

it hurts not having you.

“not bad, i hope?” he says, putting your water on the bedside table. he reaches for his garbage can, emptying the trash onto the floor in a bit of a hurry.

“horrible,” you joke. “just really bad.”

“sorry,” he says, putting the trash can up on the bed beside you.

your eyes widen with panic and you look at him so scared. “am i gonna get sick?”

“no,” he says. he knows it’s a possibility, though. “just in case you need it, want everything beside you so ya don’t have to stretch.”

“what if i get sick?”

“you won’t,” he promises though it’s not up to him. “i’m gonna make sure of it, okay?”

you finally nod and relax. “okay.”

steve grabs his extra long charging cord and holds it up. “got your phone?”

it takes a comically long time for you to fish it out of your back pocket. “there we go,” he says, plugging it in and putting it beside you. “hey, can you take some deep breaths with me?”

it’s one of several things steve does when he remembers the last few years. those horrors. it sort of helps, if he’s not that deep into an attack.

“okay,” you whisper.

he’s exaggerated as he does it, in part to make you laugh and in part so that you’ll actually follow him. and you do, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

“i won’t let anything happen to you,” he says. “i’ll stay right here.”

“just for a little,” you say, stretching. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay!”

“you told me so, didn’t you?”

“a little,” he admits.

he’s surprised when you reach for him - your hand wrapping around his wrist. you give it a squeeze. “thank you.”

“y-yeah,” he stutters. “‘course.”

he waits with you until your eyes close and your breathing slows down, til your hand falls slack around him. he moves the trash can a little further away from you, just enough so you can stretch out, and he fights the urge to look at your browser history. “be right back,” he whispers, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear before he stands up and leaves, the door shutting with a soft click.

he wants to scream.

he bolts down the stairs and grabs robin and eddie, forcing them into the kitchen.

“everything okay?” robin asks. “they’re not, like, dying, right?”

“i think they watched my videos.”

robin’s a little shocked, but eddie’s just grinning. “congrats!” he says.

“shut up,” steve chides. “or - thank you - i - ugh! they got in my room and - and they know what my bedsheets used to look like. i never sent them - how else would they know that?”

“you’ve never sent a selfie or something-?”

“not in bed. and - and that stupid bowling pin. they asked about it, too, pointed at my desk where it should be.”

“well,” robin says, shrugging half heartedly.

“well, what?” he snaps.

“well, this breaks the ice a significant amount, no?”

he’s incredulous, panicking. “they’ve seen my dick, rob!”

“didn’t you want that to happen sooner or later?” eddie asks, examining his nails.

steve blushes hotly and they both laugh.

“i-“

“no sense in worrying about it now,” robin says. “just - wait til they’re not fucked up and have a mature discussion.”

“steve doesn’t know what a mature discussion is.”

steve’s fist clenches. “eddie, i’m gonna -“

“kick my ass,” he finishes again. “look, what’s this imply, stevie? if they watched your videos. one of two things; either they’ve got the same amount of hots for you, wanted to jerk off to ya - or they wanted to make fun of your penis - AND! since there’s nothing to make fun of! i think this works out in your favor.”

steve short circuits, stomach flipping, heart dropping and then rising again.

“i - i’ve literally talked -“ he swallows hard. “i’ve literally talked about them on stream before. about - oh my god. jerking off to them. and more.”

“if they know, they must be pretty flattered. they’d probably have run away and blocked your ass by now,” eddie continues. “maybe they returned the favor, eh?” he says, elbowing robin who elbows him right back.

“just talk to ‘em,” robin says again, patting him on the back. “but for now, keep them alive.”

he can do that.

taglist will go here when tumblr’s copy paste function works again 🫶🏻

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #camboy!steve

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lovelytsunoda · 8 months

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how will I know? // marcus armstrong

summary: marcus has the hots for a barista at florida's trendiest cafe. it's not the pumpkin spice that keeps bringing him back. perhaps its the fact that he doesn't know how to ask her out that's holding him back.

pairing: marcus armstrong x barista! reader

warnings: pumpkin spice lattes, mid-season exams, i don't know jack shit about coffee so if the terminology doesn't make sense, don't sue me. Clement has no filter whatsoever.

how will I know if he really loves me? I say a prayer in every heartbeat! how will I know if he’s thinking of me? I’m asking you cause you know about things

florida is a vastly different place before eight in the morning. especially in the fall, trees dyed red and orange as nature takes it’s time ringing in the next phase.

marcus stopped, hands on his knees as he bent over to gasp for air. he never associated flordia with the cold, but when you grow up in christchurch, anything less than boiling is cold.

he took a deep breath, pushing up the sleeves of his athletic sweater and stretching his arms as he began to walk down the quiet street. the off season was no joke. sure, he’s fucked around for a few weeks with some of the old ferrari boys, but now he finally had a chance to make something of himself.

to be a household name.

which meant that despite the outside temperature and the lack of desire tk do much, he needed to keep up the routine. the routine would keep him sane, keep him in fighting condition.

but first, he needed coffee. and indoor heating.

he pushed into the coffee shop on the corner, a quiet yet cozy set up with blown glass pumpkins on the shelves behind the counter, a garland of fake fall leaves strung up around the point-of-sale terminal. lo-fi covers of eighties arena rock played in the background, a tinny rendition inf of Springsteens ‘dancing in the dark’ echoing throughout the empty space.

empty except for one person.

at a table in the back corner, a petite woman of about twenty one sat cross legged, earbuds in and staring at a laptop as she hopped her head to whatever she was listening to and scribbled a few things down on her notebook page.

she sang under her breath as she bopped her head, and marcus could hear the fluctuating notes of “you sexy thing” clashing with the overhead music.

there was something about the care-free nature of her own little world that marcus found very endearing.

sliding a hand into his pants pockets, he turned back to the counter, tapping the bell on the counter to call for a barista.

at the sound, the girl in the corner jumped, apple earbuds falling out of her ears as she stumbled over the kanken backpack on the floor.

“fuck, give me just a second! sorry, we usually don’t get any traffic before eight in the morning.” she groaned, heading towards the counter, cuffs of her oversized jeans dragging on the floor. “it’s mid term season, you know how it is.”

“I don’t, actually.” marcus shrugged “I never went to university.”

the girl laughed, slipping behind the counter. “count yourself lucky. this is hell.” she took a breath, tying her hair in a loose ponytail behind her head. “what can I get you?”

“do you have just, normal coffees?” marcus chuckled, looking at the chalkboard menu on the wall. “something that my trainer won’t kill me for drinking?”

the girl behind the counter laughed, placing a hand over her heart. “someone under the age of thirty drinks normal coffee?”

“such is the life of a professional athlete.”

she smiled softly at him, and he felt his stomach churn as she tapped the tablet screen.

she was so pretty, in such a subtle, ordinary way. the kind that took no effort.

“espresso, latte, or americano?”

marcus placed his order, tapping his black amex card against the machine as she turned around to grab a paper coffee cup, a blue sharpie peeking out over her back pocket. she uncapped the marker, leaning over the counter and resting her elbows against the laminate.

“can I get a name for that?”

“that depends,” marcus grinned, mimicking her pose. his face was so close to her that she could have kissed him if she leaned a little closer. “can I get yours?”

“y/n.” she flushed, blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I’m marcus. nice to meet you, y/n.”

every morning after that, it was like there was an invisible string that kept dragging marcus back. he couldn't explain what pull that the small boutique cafe had, but every morning, like clockwork, he was slipping into the small store, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl who had first caught his eye, sitting curled up in her small corner of the white marble space.

by the second day, he had worked up the courage to ask what she was studying. by the third day, she had memorized his order (americano with cream and cold foam) and by the fourth day, he was coming in early to help her use her study flash cards.

despite herself, y/n found herself longing for the kiwi, the mysterious athlete that had slipped so easily into her life despite it all, despite the obligations that she was sure had to things that weren't her.

it all felt too good to be true.

and you know what, one morning he never came in, and she felt her heart sink, even though there was no reason for it. it's not like he was her lover. he was just another customer.

one she had grown attached to.

of course, marcus had a good reason for not coming in that morning. he knew it was the day before her exam, and he wanted more than anything to be there and help her make sure she was ready. instead, he found himself at the airport, waiting for two different flights to land: james from new zealand, and clement from... well, he didn't actually know where clement was flying in from. sometimes, when it came to the eccentric frenchman, it was better not to ask. and

because he was such a good fucking friend, he was waiting in the arrivals line at the asscrack of dawn instead of ordering coffee. and once his friends had piled into the car, squishing suitcases and duffle bags into the sad excuse of a trunk, he got it into his head that he was going to go straight to the coffee shop.

"mate, you missed the turn to your house." clement frowned, tapping on the window. "where are you taking us?"

james smiled to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow. "he's taking us to see coffee shop girl."

"oh, shit. are you finally going to tell her you love her?"

"oh, fuck you both." marcus groaned, pulling into a parking space in front of the small shop, aptly named 'what's the tea?. "i'm not 'in love', but i want to know her better. she has a big exam tomorrow, and you guys know i've been helping her study, so i just want to make sure she feels okay about it."

clement snorted, sharing a look with james.

"simp." both men said at the same time, laughing hysterically as marcus stepped out of the car, flashing his middle finger at his comrades before he went inside.

when they were done laughing, clement and james followed him inside, greeted by a lo-fi version of 'you shook me all night long'. the cafe was busier than marcus had ever seen it, and there were three different girls working behind the counter today, the tables almost full. he spied y/n's backpack at a corner booth, tucked safely into the corner.

but there was no sign of y/n.

he waited in the line, james and clem behind him, and when he reached the counter, he couldn't hide his disappointment that she hadn't come to ask if he still wanted his usual order.

"what can i get you?" athena, the woman behind the counter asked him.

"hi, is y/n working today?"

athena grinned, leaning against the counter. "you're runner boy, aren't you?"

"he calls her coffee shop girl! they're made for each other!" clem shouted with a laugh, earning a small slap to the chest from james.

"she's in the back, she stepped out to take a break. today has been rough on her." athena smiles softly, stepping back. "i'll go get her for you."

he peeled away from the line, hands tapping his sides nervously as he watched athena duck into the back room. james clapped him in the shoulders, attempting to talk up his longtime friend.

when the door to the back room opened, and y/n emerged from the small break space, his heart stopped. her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she had been crying. her hair was loosely pinned back in a plastic clip, a minuscule droplet of water on her glasses.

and as soon as she saw him, she couldn’t help but smile.

“you came. I missed you this morning.” she said softly, making her way towards him, hands shyly hidden in the sleeves of her sweater.

marcus chuckled, gesturing towards clem and james. “yeah, I had to go pick up these two wankers from the airport.”

almost as if they had heard, both men turned towards the couple, waving their arms madly.

“he wants to jump your bones!” clement shouts before taking a sip of his fancy matcha drink, seductively winking at a blonde behind the bar

“please, pay them no mind.” marcus sighs as y/n starts to laugh. “I’ve known them since I was like, twelve. theyre harmless, just taking the piss.”

“don’t worry about it.” she smiles, brushing an errant strand of hair. “I think it’s charming.”

“your civil lit exam is tomorrow, right? how are you feeling?”

she exhaled, slipping both hands into her back pockets. “overwhelmed. but I think I can do it. i can definitely pass, just not sure by how much.”

feeling james and clems eyes boring into the back of his head, marcus took a deep breath, wringing his hands together. “hey, after your exam, maybe when your life has calmed down a little bit, do you want to grab a drink?”

she beamed, blushing pink as she reached for a cardboard heat sleeve, scribbling her number down on it. “yeah, I’d love that. do you want w coffee? the usual?”

she slipped the sleeve with her number on it onto the cup, her hand lingering over marcus’ as she passed him the cup.

when he went back to his friends, james and clem took one look at the scribbled digits on the side of the cup and burst out into cheers.

as they left the shop, he turned back, stealing a look at y/n as she slipped behind the bakery case. when she saw him, she gave him a smile, and a gentle wave.

and marcus waved back. maybe moving to florida wasn’t a bad thing after all.

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @clemswrld @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @lorarri @cartierre @diorleclerc

#the cozy collection 2023 #marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong x reader #indycar #indycar x reader #formula two x reader #indycar rpf #indycar imagine #formula 2 #Spotify #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste

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burninlovebutler · 1 year

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Candy Hearts ♡

pairing: sub!austin x fem-dom!reader | word count: 7.6k-ish

warnings: FLUFF, smut, stuttering, subby shy giggly artist!austin, handjob, praise kink, oral (f receiving), squirting, humiliation kink, straight sadism lol, name calling, forced o, multiple o’s, overstimulation, little-esque?, 18+ MDNI

summary: you decide to give your shy, artsy chemistry partner a chance when he asks you to be his valentine. after his creative date surprised you, you invite him over for a movie and… snacks.

see my masterlist for all other fics ♡

disclaimer: for vday i wanted to challenge myself because as most of you know, fluff is not my forte lol so not only was writing with NO angst a challenge but also one shots aren’t my favorite to write & so i feel as though it is not my best work 😅 pls keep that in mind & don’t judge too harshly 😅👉🏻👈🏻 hope you enjoy anyway! (also late, kinda rushed, didn't use my thesaurus for this one lol sorry 😅)

vibes: candy hearts playlist ♡

⋆⁺₊⋆ i’d be your stars,

and you’d be my little moon ☾

-little moon - mackenzie bourg

You tapped a gel pen against the tall wooden desk you were sat at, waiting for class to start. Your cheek rested in your palm propped up by your elbow and your eyes threatened to doze off at the monotony of the 7 pm Thursday chemistry class.

The small, shy boy who had been assigned as your partner for semester was the only highlight of the horrendous class. He was quite entertaining, both because of how endearing his timid fumbling was and how easily you could fluster him. You knew he had a thing for you, but you never pursued anything, even though he was exactly your type. You simply didn’t think he could handle you, he seemed too inexperienced.

The slender boy finally rushed in just minutes before class was supposed to start. His paint-covered baby yellow Kanken backpack was busting with supplies, art brushes, sketchbooks, colored pencils in metal containers, even a small canvas or two. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell he was an art major – hell just looking at him told you he was an art major. The curly haired blonde wore a striped long sleeved shirt with the cuffs covering his hands.

“Hi y/n.” He said shyly, plopping his backpack on the ground.

“Hey Austin.” You smiled a little at the scene in front of you, you couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable.

“So- uh-“ His voice carrying a nervous tremble and fidgeted slightly with his thumbs, “Um, I was wondering if I could show you something after class?”

You propped up a brow, “Oh? What is it that you have to show me?”

“Well- uh, I- um,” He fumbled, “I kinda need an opinion on something.” He ended quickly.

You eyed him but before you were able to question him further your professor began and he was a hardass about anyone interrupting class, he’d even lock the door if you were late.

Class ended around 9 pm and the impromptu plans with Austin had nearly escaped your mind, until his anxious voice informed you, “It’s uh, in the art lab, if you wanna follow me?”

“Sure.” You nodded lightly, curious as to what he’d possibly want your opinion on. You were a communications major and hadn’t ever taken an art class. You barely even knew where the art wing was.

He led you through hallways and courtyards, barely saying a word to you, just very determined to reach his destination. You followed him cautiously observing him, the way his fingers would play with the tail of the backpack strap, a hand in his pocket then out, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Whatever he was showing you was definitely making him nervous.

He walked you into an empty room, littered with half-finished canvases, drying clay pots, mannequins, prop fruits and the air was heavy with paint fumes.

“Wow, it’s really cool in here.” You commented gazing over the mesmerizing room.

He didn’t reply and just kept walking towards the back of the room where it seemed to be the pottery section. When he reached the second shelf of finished pottery projects, he stood in front of it. “So- um- I’m sorry in advance if this is weird.”

Your brows curved at his words, silently praying it wasn’t going to be something gross. He swiveled around, picked something up, held it for a second before turning around. Rosy flush filled his cheeks as he handed you a short but wide heart-shaped cylindrical container. It was a light lavender color, resembling the color of a candy heart.

You carefully took the cup-like sculpture, giving him a questioning look.

“I uh- um, look inside.” He said shyly, bringing sweater-covered hand to his mouth chewing on his thumbnail.

You peered inside the cup and in candy heart-font said, ‘Be mine?’

“I was w-wondering if you’d maybe, want to be, ya know, my v-valentine?” He stuttered out, “I know it’s kinda lame and you probably hate valentine’s day-“

“Yes.” You said simply with a gentle smile.

“It’s okay I underst- wait, yes?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, this is the cutest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

“Oh,” He blushed and went to bring his covered hand to block his face but stopped himself, bringing it down to fidget, “Um, it’s a pen holder.” He clarified.

“A pen holder?” You questioned with a little laugh.

“Yeah, well I noticed you use a lot of colored pens in class so… I thought you might need something to keep them on your desk.” He bit down on his lip to hide a smile.

A wide grin tugged at your lips, maybe this one had potential afterall. “Well, that’s quite thoughtful of you Austin.” You continued inspecting the inside of the cup, noticing some extra sketches inside, “What are those?” You tilted the pot to him, the sight intensifying the redness in his cheeks.

“O-Oh, um, they’re beakers…because you know we’re in chemistry class…” He trailed off, “I know it’s really lame I’m sorry I just thought-“

You giggled and placed a finger to his lips, “Sh, I think it’s cute.”

“You do?” He looked at you with the bluest, cutest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” Your lips curling into a beam. “Well, what are we doing for the date then Valentine?” Emphasizing the name thinking he’d probably like the reassurance.

“O-Oh well- I,” He fumbled to swing his full backpack off his one shoulder, unzipping the pouch and digging around until he found what he searched for. He held out two voucher type papers, “I thought maybe we could go to this pottery class? It’s like a w-wine and pottery type thing… I don’t k-know if you even drink b-but yeah, in case you did, I don’t know I thought you m-might like it.” His nerves clear in his increased stutter. The stuttering wasn’t new, he had one even when he was calm. But it got worse when he was nervous, like before a quiz or an experiment, and especially during presentations. You often had to take over explaining the slides for him since it got so bad. You didn’t mind though, science wasn’t his strong suit. Makes sense for a right-brain artsy individual.

“Sure, it sounds like fun.” You held the glazed clay close to your chest, knowing you it was in danger of getting dropped and you didn’t wanna risk breaking it. “I look forward to it.” You leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek.

He bit down on his lip and nodded, “Cool.”

Valentine’s Day came and you arrived to the pottery place that was hidden away in a quaint part of town you’d never been before. You waited outside, leaning against the wall. There was a bit of a buzz in your tummy, maybe you were more excited for this date than you thought. There was a gift hidden behind you to surprise him with.

Finally, you noticed the small boy making his way to you – curled up cuffed jeans, black converse, and a slightly nicer blue sweater with a white collar peeking out beneath it. “Hi y/n.” He smiled shyly, even shier than normal. You questioned whether he’d even been on a date before. He pulled his arms from behind his back, holding out a single rose and a large box of luxurious looking chocolates. “I-I didn’t know what kinda chocolates you liked s-so I got you a variety pack.”

The sight of him was so endearing, his long shaggy blonde hair, his nervously restrained smile and pink freckly cheeks, it sent a flutter in your chest. “That’s very sweet of you Austin.” A toothy grin laid claim across your face, “I got you something too.” Bringing your arm out from behind your back, offering a teddy bear wearing a sweater that resembled many that he wore.

His face lit up, “O-Oh my goodness!” He beamed. You took the presents he got you so that he could take the bear he so evidently wanted to scoop up. He immediately stole the bear and squeezed it, “Thank you so much! He’s so cute, I love him.”

You chuckled, “I’m glad you like him. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Oh oh, I do I do I do!”

Once inside the glaring white art studio, you both were separated. At first this seemed odd as it was valentine’s day, you figured you’d be working together. But the instructor explained this was to give you the opportunity to make something unique for each other. So, you threw on the provided smock and were placed across the room from each other.

As you looked around the room you noticed the room was filled with couples significantly older than you both. People your age were probably out clubbing trying to get laid or having “anti-valentine’s day” parties. But when you searched across all the middle-aged pairs, you spotted your date – your 21 year old shy chemistry partner – laughing it up with the grandma-esque art instructor.

A smile tugged at your lips watching the interaction, the normally fairly quiet boy was the most comfortable and animated that you’d ever seen him. You were too far to hear what they were talking about but just from his focused mannerisms and confident demeanor, he was definitely consulting with the sweet old lady about whatever project he was planning. The familiarity between them made it clear that he was a regular there. She was so gentle with him, just like a grandma.

When he caught you watching him, you expected him to blush or hide but instead gave you a raised brow, ‘I caught ya’ look. You didn’t know why but you immediately felt a fuzzy feeling in your tummy mimicking embarrassment and pretended you weren’t actually looking at him. There was a slight uptick in your heartbeat when you realized he was walking towards you and you hadn’t even touched the lump of clay in front of you.

“How ya doin’?” He asked and you swore you could almost hear a tease in his tone. He caught you- clay handed.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “I uh- I don’t really know where to get started.”

“Well, I could help.” He beamed, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his arms covered in clay marks.

“Sure.” You nodded with a tightlipped smile. “I just, I can’t do art like- at all.”

He waved away the notion and rounded your seat, “Everyone’s an artist.” He stated before his hands finding your own and guiding them to the mass of clay. His touch sparked an electricity on your skin and made you hyperaware of every place your bodies intersected. His arms molded around you from behind placing them on the medium, “Okay so, step on the pedal a little.” He instructed and the confidence in his voice erupted goosebumps across your body.

The tabletop began to rotate when you barely tapped on the pedal, his hands gently pressing yours into the wet clay. “I um, I think I wanna make something small.” You said just low enough for him to hear.

“Okay sure.” He moved his thumbs into yours, shaving the edges off the clay to size it down. “You just gotta remember to keep it wet.” You didn’t even think he caught on, but blood was rushing to your cheeks.

He stepped away from you, wiping the gray excess off on his smock, “You think you got it?”

“Oh- Oh yeah, I got it. Thank you.” You gave him a little smile and he replied with a wide one before he shuffled away back to his project.

You followed his instructions and kept withering the lump down until it was a tiny mound. You scraped it off the plate shaped it into a small heart with a tiny loop at the top. The pad of your thumb curved a divot into the heart and painted it a dark brown. The clay was fast air drying so that you’d be able to take your creations home the same day.

For the finishing touch, you dug into your pocket to find a crystal you snuck in and carefully pressed it into the groove. Before the date you had visited your favorite crystal shop searching for a gem that reminded you of him. In the search you stumbled across a stone called Larimar, that did just that. It had varying shades of light blue with cracking white stripes throughout that made it look like the clear blue ocean waters you only ever see in postcards from exotic islands.

You didn’t realize the class was ending until you heard the clamor of people cleaning up, suddenly relieved that you had rushed through the beginning.

When you noticed him walking towards you, you promptly hid the pendant behind your back. He was doing the same, hiding his creation behind him. Before you could even argue at who was going first he brought his out.

Your eyes widened when you saw a sculpted bear about the size of a cell phone. It was almost identical to the stuffed bear you had given him earlier, only the sweater this one wore matched the blue striped one Austin was wearing. He blushed and offered it up to you, “I didn’t want you to go bear-less, I’m sure he kept you company before you gave him to me.”

The gesture softened you in ways you didn’t even know was possible. Nobody had ever made you feel that way, no one had ever been so thoughtful.

“Oh my gosh, thank you.” Letting out a tiny gasp when you took it with your freehand, bringing up to your eyeline to appreciate the detail. Every little hair was carved, every weave of the sweater pattern, even the teeny curves of its eyes all so precise and perfect. “How did you do this in such a short amount of time?”

He looked down and kicked his feet a little, “Well I, I been kinda working on it all week.” Mumbling down with his hand linked behind him, “Um,” He turned his shoulders a bit behind him to gesture to the older instructer, “Ethel was helping me with it. I wanted it to be perfect.” He shrugged.

Your brows curved together, “But I just gave you the bear today?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, that’s why I was so excited when you gave it to me – well besides that it was cute, and I love stuffies. But I was already working on a bear for you. I just added the sweater today though, because yours had one. It inspired me.” His teeth tugging his lip resisting a smile.

“Well, this just isn’t fair.” You huffed dramatically and his eyes instantly filled with worry that you didn’t like it. “I didn’t have a whole week, and all I could come up was this.” Bringing your hand out keeping the heart hidden in your hand before opening it up for him. “It’s not nearly as good – I, like I said me and art we just-“

He stole the pendant from your hand and looked at it in awe, “I love it.” He said softly, gently running his thumb over the stone. “Where did you get this crystal? It’s so pretty.”

“I well- I picked it out at a crystal shop. It made me think of you.” Bringing your shoulders to a shrug and your free hand to scratch your other arm. “It reminded me of your eyes, I guess.”

The corners of his lips couldn’t have gotten wider as he held the charm against his chest, “Ah y/n, this is so nice.” He pulled it out to look at it again then looking up at you with big bright blues, the same ones that resembled the stone. “Really, really nice. I love it.”

You chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you like it. I really love my bear.”

He pressed his lips together, “Really!”

“Yeah, you know, I was really gonna miss him.” You smiled sweetly at him.

A tiny excited squeak escaped him, “Oh I’m so happy you like him!”

You were lingering outside your cars making small talk trying to prolong your time together when you figured you might as well take the plunge. “Well, would you like to come over to my dorm?” You asked, not really expecting anything out of him but the night had gone so well you didn’t want it to end.

“I uh- yeah sure!” He tugged at his lip and nodded.

You twisted the key to your home and pushed it open, revealing the messy single dorm. “Sorry for the mess, I uh- didn’t expect anyone over.”

He chuckled looking around, like he was genuinely curious at your living area, “It’s okay, my dorm is covered in canvases always so, I get it.” He walked around then you heard a small squeak from him.

“You okay?” You asked from across the room, thinking something was wrong but he looked at you with a giant grin, “You put my pen holder on your desk!” He gushed. “That’s nice. Really nice.” Bringing his sleeved hand to his mouth, biting down on his thumbnail.

“Oh, yeah of course. I love it.” You gave him a sweet smile, “Which reminds me,” walking over to where you placed your purse down, and pulling out the heavily wrapped gift. You precariously unwrapped the packing paper and placed the clay bear next to the pencil holder, “I had to put him out.” You beamed and leaned over to his grinning face, placing a quick peck on his cheek. It seemed as though he might explode, not knowing how to respond.

You began walking to the kitchenette, “You want something to drink?”

“W-water if you got it?”

“Yeah of course I have water you weirdo.” You teased, opening your mini fridge and taking out two water bottles. Walking over and handing him one, “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

“Sure!” He replied, accepting the water bottle and cracking the cap off, “What kinda movies do you like?” He inquired, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a quick sip. It wasn’t until then that you noticed just how plump his lips were.

“I like scary movies!” Then realizing he didn’t seem like the type to like them, he was much too skittish. The immediate widened eyes confirmed that theory.

“Oh uh-“ He forced a smile, “I like scary movies, we can watch a scary movie if you want.”

You raised a brow at him, “You sure?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm!”

“Okay…” You analyzed him. Normally, if your relationship was deeper, you’d know to pick up on his obvious hesitation and choose another option. But, you thought this would be a good test. Part of your hesitancy of pursuing him first was the idea that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with you. You had a preference of dating subbier-type men and he read that way but you didn’t know much about him yet, you had no knowledge about his past experiences or interests, or if he even was a ‘sub’, or if he was just a shy inexperienced man.

So, this scary movie would be a test to see where he stood, how he’d react. You weren’t cruel though, you would pick a pretty calm slasher film and of course you’d turn it off he really didn’t enjoy it.

You plopped onto your grey suede couch and noticed he just stood there, like he was unsure of what he was supposed to do. You chuckled and patted the seat next to you, “Well are ya gonna come sit down silly?”

“Oh-Oh yeah of course!” He quickly shuffled over to you and gently sat beside you, further than you would’ve liked.

You flipped through the options on Netflix and chose one of the later, less good Halloween movies. You felt him tense up even in the opening scenes but as the movie progressed, you inched closer to him. There was a blanket slung over the back of the couch and draped it over the two of you. It was appropriately themed pink with hearts. You figured if he was afraid, he could use it to hide in.

The blanket plan worked, not only did it give him some comfort, but it also allowed him to discretely scoot closer to you. His hip now flush against yours as he curled the blanket close to his chest, his eyes glued to the screen horrified. It was kind of adorable his reactions were, gripping the blanket and jolting a bit during intense scenes.

In a particularly frightening jump scare scene, he covered his face with the blanket and jumped so far up he landed partially in your lap. Deep red filled his cheeks when you curled your arm around his waist pulling him completely into your lap. “You okay? We can turn it off if you want?”

He brought his sleeve up to cover his mouth, “Um…m-maybe we take a break?” He suggested even though you knew the answer was yes.

“Okay, that’s fine.” You replied calmly and paused the movie behind him. “Would you like to stay here for a bit?” Referencing his spot in your lap.

“Y-Yeah, is that okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah sure, of course.” Curling your hand around his waist and pulling him closer, “Would you like me to play some music? Is there something that is calming for you?”

“Uh- You can’t make fun of me.” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip.

“I would never.” You reassured.

“Okay, um, I like classical music? Like Beethoven?”

“What! Why would make fun of you for that?”

He shrugged, “I dunno, because it’s not, ya know popular now.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “C’mon now.” Picking up your phone and connecting to your Alexa to play a classical mix playlist. You could physically feel the immediate relief the music brought him.

“So, classical huh?” You softly reached around him to bring the fallen blanket back around his shoulders.

“Thanks,” He gave you the tiniest smile and took the edges to fully cocoon him, “Yeah, I listen to it while I’m painting… it kinda-“ He shook his head, “Nevermind it’s really stupid.” Pulling the blanket tighter around him.

“No, no c’mon, you can tell me?” You pressed in a delicate tone.

“It’s just- When I listen to classical music when I paint, I guess it inspires me? It makes me feel like one of the greats ya know?” His baby blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them before. His voice was clear and excited, not stuttery and shy like normal. “Like what was Van Gogh listening to when he painted ‘Starry Night’?” Once he picked up on his evident excitement he backtracked, waving away the words he’d just said, “Sorry- Sorry I know it’s lame.”

A wide smile tugged at your lips, “No, it’s not.” Gently finding his wrist over the blanket and gave him a tiny squeeze, “I think it’s really cool that you’re so connected to your art like that, I just, yeah. I really like hearing you talk about it.”

He pressed his lips together, wrapping one arm around himself and keeping the one you held still under your touch.

“You’re pretty cute you know that?” You tugged you lip between your teeth, almost excited to see his reaction.

As expected, he turned tomato red, “Oh- thank you.” He said shyly, “You’re really pretty.”

The words returned the flutter from earlier, you didn’t expect this date to go anywhere but you really weren’t prepared for the churning in your tummy from the tiny things he did.

“Thanks darlin’” You took a leap and grazed the back of your hand against his cheek. The slight nerves of thinking he would retract faded when he just blushed and nudged his face a bit against your touch. You followed the natural inclination to tangle your fingers into his blonde curls and scratched his head lightly. He only leaned into your touch more, closing his eyes and letting out a small happy noise.

“Hey, I forgot I got some valentine’s day candy if you want some?” You asked, pulling your hand from his hair.

He seemed disappointed at first, then quickly perked back up at the mention of candy. “Sure!”

“Okay,” You brought your tongue between your lips as you strained to stretch across the couch to the side table with Austin still in your lap. He only giggled at your difficulty but didn’t intend to move his comfortable position. Amidst your struggle, you were finally able to pick up the glass bowl that held a mix of holiday candy. “Here, take your pick.” You offered the bowl to him.

He used his finger to careful move the candy around, very seriously focused on finding the perfect choice. Finally, he plucked a small baggie of candy conversation hearts and gave you a little smile to indicate he’d made his choice.

You chuckled at the precision of his extraction then mimicked his actions, finding a red heart-shaped lollipop. While Austin was distracted by his delicate opening of the teeny clear envelope of his candy hearts, you were carefully freeing the red lolli from it’s plastic covering.

He popped a lavender heart into his mouth and looked up at you appearing content with the flavor, the edges of his mouth curled in a way that accentuated his cheekbones. The moment he saw you drawing the candy from your lips, his demeanor changed. His gaze stayed on the lolly each time you slid it out through your closed lips.

You noticed this and took it as an opportunity to see just how flustered you could make the shy boy. When you opened your mouth, you slowly glided the sugary confection down your tongue, then using the tip to swirl around it. He visibly gulped and pulled the blanket around him fully, shifting a bit in your lap.

You smirked knowing the power you held over him over something as small as a candy. Dragging the lolly down the length of your tongue again, you held it out to him, “Want a taste?”

His eyes widened and cheeks burning red realizing he’d been caught, “I-I um, I just, uh-“

You leaned forward slightly and tapped the candy on his bottom lip, “Open up for me?”

He stilled completely, looking at you wide eyed and hesitated before obeying. He hesitantly took the lolly in his mouth, wrapping his lips around the base. You kept hold of the stem and could feel his tongue move around it, the feeling alone was enough fill your core with butterflies. He pulled off the candy and looked at you as if asking for further direction.

“Good boy.” You said softly and kept eye contact with him as you took the heart back in your mouth, sucking all of his saliva off of it. He began to squirm again. Your fingers followed the edge of the blanket and attempted to tug it open, but he tightened his grip on it. “C’mon baby let me see you.”

He shook his head vehemently, “No-no.” His hand found yours though and guided it up his thigh beneath the blanket. “Only under- if-if you want.” He whispered.

“Okay.” You nodded and followed up his thigh to find a bulge covered by his jeans.

He writhed the moment you landed on the bulge he’d been hiding from you. You pulled him closer in your lap and began peppering kisses along his neck while palming him over his jeans, “Is this what you’re squirmin’ about?” Whispering just under his ear.

“Sh.” He whined, hips slowly rutting against your hand, “Needy.”

You let out a low chuckle at his choice of words, “I see that.”

A sharp gasp escaped him once you pulled his skin into your mouth beginning to form a dark bruise. “You’re so hard for me baby.” Quietly against the darkened mark. “You’re this hard over a piece of candy?”

“M-mhm.” He whimpered softly.

“Mmm.” You hummed against his neck, beginning to unzip his pants and slipping your hand over his boxers. “You wish that lolly was your cock?”

He let out a loud whine and rolled his hips against your hand even faster desperate for friction. “Please.”

“Please what darlin?” Your motion on his stiff member agonizingly slow.

He whimpered and you already felt precum seeping through his underwear. “C’mon use your words for me?”

He kept speechless but he was writhing under your touch and tiny quiet sobs fell from his lips.

“Hmm.” You dragged your hand up to the band of his boxers, slipping a finger beneath it, “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?” You whispered under his ear.

“Y-yes!” He squeaked immediately, “I um- please touch me.”

You smirked, “See? That wasn’t so hard.” Pulling the band over his hard member, it already twitching from your proximity. You began leaving sloppy kisses over his neck while dragging a finger up his length.

He whined, “Please.” Begging again and bucking a bit into your hand.

You chuckled against his neck, “You really are so needy huh?”

“Mhm.” He hummed, letting out a tiny moan when you began sucking marks into his skin.

“I’m gonna mark you up, so everyone in class can know how big of a slut you are.” You mumbled against his skin beginning to pump his cock slowly in your hand.

Whines started pouring from his lips, “Ah! No-no I don’t want them to know! I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Hmm,” Working on an even darker hickey, “You know what’s even more embarrassing?” Your hand picking up speed on his member, driving him crazy in your lap. “That they’ll know who gave them to you, who you belong to.”

“B-Belong?” He asked you wide eyed and innocent.

“Mhm.” Hooking your index under his chin and pressing your lips into his, “Mine. You like the sound of that?”

His cheeks reddened more than you thought possible and you’d never seen anyone look so cute while getting jacked off. “Mhm. Yeah, I like that.” He nodded cutely.

“Good,” Placing another quick kiss on his lips, “Now be a good boy and spit for me.” You brought your hand up to his mouth. He obeyed and spit into your palm, the sight of him with drool dripping from his plump lip was enough to pool wetness into your panties. “Fuck you’re so pretty.”

“Sh.” He hushed, shifting in your lap so that each knee was around your hips then hiding in your neck. “You’re making me all… I dunno.” He nuzzled his nose into the curve of your shoulder.

Your heart fluttered at his reaction to your praise and only fueled your work on him. “Such a good boy.” Your hand having a better rhythm with the help of his spit. His hips were bucking into your hand wildly, letting sobs fill your ears.

He decided to copy you and start trailing kisses up your neck, cause you to suck in a breath not expecting the sensation that his lips burned into your skin. He swirled his tongue just under your ear, growing the pulsing in your clit. You needed his tongue on you.

He whined loudly, “I-I’m close.”

In preparation you brought your shirt up to just under your bust, to make sure he wouldn’t spill on it. “Okay, cum for me?” It earned you some even louder moans, but then remembered his reaction from earlier, “My pretty baby, won’t you be a good boy and give me your cum?”

His rutting in your fist became sloppy and erratic, his whines filling your living room completely. Then one final thrust did him over, shooting milky stripes across your stomach. His head lulled against your shoulder, his breathing rapid obviously spent by the endeavor.

You smiled down at him and kissed his cheek, “You were so good for me.” You whispered and he gave you a lazy smile. Your hand tangled in his hair giving his head a little scratch and as predicted, his eyes fluttered closed with a content tightlipped smile.

Once he came back down from his high, a light pink filled his cheeks when he noticed the mess he made. “I’m sorry I… did that on you.”

“It’s alright.” You said calmly, “But I want you to clean up your mess.”

His eyes widened, “I um- I can get some paper towels or-“

“No baby, I meant with your tongue.” You clarified with a mischievous sneer.

“Oh- um okay.” He nodded but before he could move off of you, you cupped his chin, “The mess on my tummy is not the only one you caused. I want you to clean that one up too.”

His breath hitched looking stunned but nodded obediently. He dismounted from you while you slid your shorts off and shifted to lay sideways on the couch facing him then spreading your legs in front of him. “Well what are ya waitin for darlin?”

He eyed the mess on your stomach seemingly hesitant but surprised you when he leaned down beginning to swipe up his own cum with his tongue. The feeling of his tongue just inches above your core set a rampant buzzing in your clit.

When he was done, he sat back on his legs and stared at your core in awe, like it was some gourmet meal. You noticed that he was hard again in his boxers. “Aw, are you hard again?”

He nodded, “Yes. I’m sorry.” Hanging his head in embarrassment.

“Come here.” You instructed with a curled index towards you. When he move over you at your command, you cupped his cheek. “You wanna tell me what made you hard again?”

He shook his head but kept his cheek glued to your hand. “Was it just from looking at my pussy?”

“A little, yeah.” He said tugging at his lip and keep his eyes diverted, indicating there was something else.

You perked a brow up trying to think of what it could be before a devious smirk spread across your lips, “Was it because I made you clean up your mess?”

Deep rouge returned to his cheeks, “U-uh… Embarrassed.” He muttered into your palm.

“Hmm. Does that happen a lot when you’re embarrassed?” By the way he nuzzled and hid his face in your palm and his cock noticeably twitch in his boxers answered your question.

“I’m sorry just- I can’t help it.” He mumbled.

“You don’t gotta be sorry baby.” You said softly, “Here’s the deal, if you make me cum, I might let you cum again.”

His eyes lit up, “You’d let me cum again?”

“Mhm, if you’re a good boy. But I have some rules.”

“Okay?”

“Rule #1, you can’t cum without my permission.” He nodded, “Rule #2, this time, if I let you cum, it has to be without your hands.”

His look mixed with fear and confusion, “Huh?”

“If you’re gonna cum again, you’re gonna have to do it while humping the couch. In your boxers.” You stated

“W-What?”

“You heard me. Now do you wanna cum or not?”

He nodded quickly, “Yes ma’am.” Then beginning to shift down but you caught his jaw with your hand, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“Are you okay with this? You like when I tell you what to do?” Realizing maybe you got carried away and wanted to check in to make sure you were on the same page.

He gave you an excited and reassuring smile, coming back up to meet your lips. “Mhm. Like it a lot.” Nudging your nose with his. You felt him about to pull away but something in you wanted just a bit more of it, bringing your hands up to his cheeks drawing him into a deeper kiss.

His kiss was gentle but not stiff, tenderly danced his lips against yours. You swiped his bottom lip for entrance, and he obliged opening for you. You tangled your fingers into his long blonde hair and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. You strategically tightened your legs around him so that his covered tip would tease at your entrance causing a sharp gasp from him. “Fuck.” He moaned against your lips.

You giggled in satisfaction, holding his face in your hands, “If at any point you want to stop or you’re uncomfortable just say…” Trying to think of something to use as a safe word but he answered for you.

“Candy heart!” He perked up with a little giggle which made your heart soar at how cute he was, even when you were about to torture him. “That way I can show you one or point if… I can’t talk or something.” It made you wonder if that was some shy way of hinting at some other kink.

You smiled wide, “Okay, Candy Heart it is then.” Lifting up to kiss him again, “Now be a good boy and eat my pussy will you?”

His eyes widened a bit and quickly moved down between your legs, lying flat against the sofa. He spread your lips apart then leaned down to kitten lick at your swollen nub and it felt like heaven. “Fuck,” You breathed out, tangling your fingers into his shaggy hair, pushing him further into you. He let out a moan at your taste.

It didn’t take long for him to start rutting against the couch, which reminded you of another condition. “Oh yeah, there’s another rule.” You smirked when he looked up at you, fear in his eyes. “You’re not allowed to stop until I say so – that includes your humping.”

His eyes widened at your words, pulling away from you, “B-but, I-I’m gonna get close.”

“That’s not my problem. If you cum without permission, there’ll be a price to pay.” He hesitantly nodded.

His whines increased as he lapped up your juices trying his best to get you to finish, his ruts against the couch a bit too slow for your liking.

“Faster.” You demanded and he sped up on your clit. You firmly grasped his hair, “Not on me.”

He whimpered, pulling away from you, your juices slathered all over his mouth and chin. “But I-I’m close.” He sobbed.

“Not my problem.” Shoving his face back into your core needing his tongue back. His rutting increased slightly accompanied by small desperate cries.

“Faster.”

He whined loudly, “I can’t! I’ll cum!”

His absolute desperation was driving you towards your climax, you loved seeing him like that. “You cum, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise. Now faster.”

He fucked himself against the couch, whines and whimpers vibrating against your clit and it was driving you fucking crazy. “Such a pretty little slut.” Combing through his hair to see him better. His eyes scrunching closed obviously struggling to keep it together.

“Faster.”

“I can’t! I can’t! I’m gonna cum!”

“You’re gonna disobey me? Or you’re gonna be a good boy?”

He listened, fucking himself faster against the cushion. His entire body was trembling teetering on the edge of his precipice. You were right there too, just at the edge. The sight of him struggling turned you on in ways you never even know you could reach.

“Faster.” You breathed out, your chest heaving.

“I c-can’t!” He cried into your core.

“I didn’t fucking ask.”

He sped up, “Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.” You warned.

“I’m gonna cum!”

“Hold it.” You growled through your teeth.

“I-I can’t i’m gonna- i’m gonna cum, I-I-“ Loud moans poured against you and his body tensed up, releasing once more into his boxers. But his tongue never stopped working on you.

The absolute pure desperation of him drove you into your own climax, your moans matching his, rolling your hips into his mouth. His incessant swirling of his tongue pushed you even further, just from how much the entire scene turned you on. Euphoria washed over you, sending tingles even down to your toes. But he still didn’t stop.

“What a good boy.” You groaned, keeping a tight fist in his hair with your thighs clamped around his head. “You don’t stop til I say so.” He was completely in your control, obviously making up for his mistake. His tongue felt so good on you, which answered your question from before – if he’d ever been on a date. There was no way this was the first time he’d ever done anything, his tongue was too fucking skilled to be an amateur. And the way he obeyed you? Listened to you? Begged? He was an expert.

He kept eating you, not too fast and not too slow, just right. Just enough to edge you towards another orgasm. “Fuck.” You practically growled out feeling the buzzing build in your clit again. He looked up at you with round, submissive blue eyes – another indicator that he was no novice. He had picked up on your weaknesses and he knew just how to use them on someone dominant like you. Those big puppy dog eyes and the small curve of his brows that communicated, ‘I’m sorry, I’m all yours to do what you want with, I want to make you feel good’. And it worked, the sight of him at your mercy did you in. The knot in your stomach unraveled and you felt your own cum release all over his face, but he didn’t stop, just like you said. “Fuck!” You cried, arching your back off the couch sharply. He kept devouring you and it was like your orgasm didn’t end, just prolonged. You cum kept flowing out of you like a fountain, more than you’d ever came before. Your chest heaved and when you knew you were finished, you gently patted his head. “You can stop now.” Breathing out weakly.

He pulled from your core with your cum all over his face, dripping off his chin. The sight of him, dripping in your cum and his underwear filled with his own made you ravenous. It reminded you of his disobedience.

You gathered all your strength to pull yourself up and onto all fours crawling over to him. “You didn’t listen to me.” You taunted.

He looked at you terrified, “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help it!” Scooting away from you to the opposite side of the couch.

You backed him into the corner of the sofa, “I told you there’d be a price to pay.”

“I’m sorry I just-“ You swiftly slipped the soaked boxers off of him, crumbling them up in your hand.

“Open.” Gesturing at his mouth. You could tell he wanted to resist but was too scared. He nodded and opened for you. He whined when you shoved the most drenched part into his mouth.

You spit into your hand and found his cock again, it had softened a bit but quickly hardened again when you started pumping it in your hand. It was dark burgundy red and swollen from all the stimulation. Pained sobs came from behind the underwear lodged in his mouth. He shook his head profusely as your hand sped up. “Oh you wanna be a little slut and cum without permission? Well, if you wanna cum so fucking bad why don’t you cum again hm?”

Tears pooled in his eyes as he wriggled around in overstimulated agony. “Oh, what’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t that why you came all over me? And your underwear? And my couch?” You hissed through a smirk, getting off on his suffering.

He scrunched his eyes closed, tears being forced out, every muscle in his body contracting from the anguish. His fingers digging into the suede couch looking for anything to possibly ease the overstimulation. Sweat covered his forehead as he struggled beneath you.

“Aw look at you.” Your hand moving even faster on his cock, causing his eyes to widen, “Struggling so much. But even with this, I bet you’ll still cum like the little slut you are.” Taunting in a low voice, now hovering over his face. “Isn’t that right my pretty little one?”

His pained whines increased making the edges of your mouth curl into a leer, “Ah that’s right. Oh, you’re gonna cum aren’t you? You gonna cum like a little whore?”

He whined, still squirming wildly under you. You brushed a stray hair from his forehead, “C’mon baby, you’re so soo pretty like this. Be a good boy for me? Show me how much of a pretty little slut you are?”

All of a sudden, he bucked his hips harshly up into your hand, thick ribbons of cum erupting from his swollen tip. You palmed him til he rode out the high without over stimulating him again, gently pulling the underwear from his mouth. He looked at you through hooded lids, “I- You- We- Wow.” Was all he could muster, making you giggle.

You swiped the pad of your thumb across his cheek bone looking at him in awe, “You were so good.” Softly placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Yeah?” He squeaked only widening your smile.

“Mhm. And you’re so fucking pretty.” You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear.

His cheeks peeked pink again, “Thanks… You’re really fucking hot.” He blurted out.

You busted out laughing not expecting that out of him, “Thanks babydoll.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How about we get you cleaned up and then we can watch a not scary movie?”

“I’d like that lots.” He nodded excitedly, “Maybe we could watch 'Home'? I really like the little alien guy.” He giggled.

You chuckled and pressed your lips against his, “Sure baby, we can do that.”

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