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cupcakeinat0r · 2 months

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<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3

[NSFW]

With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.

Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.

But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.

It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first… to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.

Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.

In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.

You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.

Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).

You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.

You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.

You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.

His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals…

It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.

You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.

You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.

You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.

Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.

You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.

You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.

His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.

This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.

Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.

You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.

You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita… Mmfuck.”

He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.

Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me…do that again...” he pleads.

“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.

“Oh-oh fuck… si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.

You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit…. I’m close, mama, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.

You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“

“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”

You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.

He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.

You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.

“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved…”

Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.

“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.

“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.

“You sureee? You really don't have to-”

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.

Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.

Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.

“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”

“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.

If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”

His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”

Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.

One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.

“Prettiest pussy ever…. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.

You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.

"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.

"But Miguel-"

He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.

Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.

Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.

"B-baby, baby… I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.

“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this… ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada más…” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.

Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"

"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.

Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.

You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.

He gently stops you, and you lay back down.

“I am… but not for food.”

Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3

Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!

This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3

Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3

Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!

P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs 🤭 MWAH!

- Cupcake xoxo

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

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pink roses

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)

you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend.

you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.

“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.

“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).

you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.

“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.

“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.

“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.

“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”

“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”

you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.

“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.

you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.

“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”

“yeah…” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.

“rafe is um… rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's… he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away.

“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.

“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.

“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.

“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.

“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.

“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.

“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.

“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.

“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just… weird.”

“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.

“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.

he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.

“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.

“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles?

you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to.

you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house.

you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.

“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.

“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”

you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.

“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.

“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n… does he make you cum as much as i do?”

“did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”

“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”

rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.

“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.

“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”

“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.

you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.

“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”

rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.

“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.

“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.

“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.

rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.

rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.

“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.”

“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.”

you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.

“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.

“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.

you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.

“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.

“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.

“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”

“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”

“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving.

“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.

“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door.

“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.

you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most… except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.

“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.

you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.

“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.

“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”

“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”

you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.

you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.

doesn’t he know you like pink roses?

the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.

“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.

“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.

“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.

“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.

“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.”

“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.

“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”

“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.

rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.

“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”

“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.

“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.

rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.

rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings.

“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.

“maybe…” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”

rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”

you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.

“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.

“well… i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

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pascals-doll · 2 months

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bed of roses

ellie williams x reader

🫧 continuation of candy | u dont have to read it since this can be a story on its own!

🫧 TYSM FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE VDAY SPECIAL 🥹 i hope you cuties enjoy pt 2!!

🫧 thinking about ellie’s strap all day 🥲

🫧 description: smut smut smut, very cute surprise at the end!, valentines day surprise, dom!ellie, sub!reader, reader gets fingered on stairs, fingering (both receiving), strapon!sex (reader recieving), ‘p’ in v sex, panty sniffing (ellie), body worship (reader receiving), power dynamic, back scratching (ellie receiving), finger sucking/gagging, no use of y/n, use of pet names (pretty mama, mama, doll, pretty doll, and babydoll),

“augh-god! ellie” you moaned out, your hand going to grip the stair-railing as you swore you started seeing clouds.

after completely devouring ellie on the staircase, you guys calmed down momentarily.

catching each other’s breath, sharing soft kisses as ellie tells you how much she loves you.

until she began to kiss your neck which eventually lead to her sucking all over both of your tits as her fingers fuck you relentlessly.

“the prettiest tits in this entire world” ellie utters against one of your tits as the other is messily palmed by ellies hand.

“ellie s’good-augh fuck m’gonna cum!” your moans got louder as the forming of your words got sloppy, not being able to comprehend shit in your fucked-out mind.

“oh the night is just gettin’ started mama” she pulls away from your nipple, smirking at you like she was hell’s #1 sinner.

your mouth goes agape, eyes squeezing shut as your feel ellies fingers fuck you through your orgasm.

ellie’s fingers curling into your pussy causing your back to arch within her lap.

“good mama, thats it. cum all over my fingers” she encourages you, slightly moving your hips along with the movement of her fingers.

ellie craddled you as your orgasm melts you into her embrace, legs completely limp in her lap.

ellie planted the softest kisses on your face and forehead “dont get tired yet, babydoll” she whispers in your ear as she runs her hands through your hair.

once you felt yourself coming back into reality, you lifted your head up from in-between her shoulder “we-we should pick up your poor teddy bear” you state weakly, giving her a soft grin.

“yes, ill get it mama” ellie returns your smile, chuckling sweetly.

ellie helped you up, giving your ass a squeeze through your mini skirt “perfect lil’ass” she states playfully, licking her lips.

“shut up and tell me you love the bear” you tell her, just wanting her to come close to you; missing her warmth.

she continues to walk over to you, stepping up the couple steps of the staircase before you meeting you halfway on them.

she bends down to pick up your bra, not caring much for you shirt.

“i-” ellie begins before stopping to plant kisses all over your face and neck, once again but this time she crouches down slightly; scooping you up.

“fucking love the bear” as she completely takes you into her arms.

you let out a squeal out of slight surprise as ellie scoops you up, using most of her strength. you wrap your arms and legs around her, your mini-skirt riding up.

her hands squeezing your ass as she walks up the stairs.

ellie walks down your shared hallway, you in her grasp as you kiss along her neck and toy with her hair.

you didnt miss each pathway of petals that scattered the wooden floors as you got closer to your shared bedroom.

your heart felt like it was going to palpitate out your chest. your mind couldn’t begin to process how lucky you got.

once ellie arrived into your shared room, she put you down gently “dont turn around yet” she says, moving from infront of you to guide you while also making sure you couldn’t see.

“you can turn around now” the second she says that, you wasted no time turning around.

your jaw immediately dropped to the floor as you see a small light-sign that lights up the words ‘you and i forever’, roses and petals all over the floor and bed, and lastly with 3 different heart-shaped boxes of chocolate.

that wasn’t it, ellie had one more surprise but you were just gonna have to wait.

“you-i-you” you tried to speak, but you could barely form a sentence as ellie yet again, found the way to take the words right ouf your mouth.

“just hold on here, yeah doll?” she asks, kissing your temple softly. you gave her a quick nod before she headed into your shared closet.

while she was in the closet, you took upon yourself to quickly grab your pink silk lingerie robe from your dresser.

you stepped out of your mini-skirt since you were already shirtless; leaving you only in your pink heart design thong.

you put the silk robe on, only covering you from being completely naked since you already basically were.

ellie stepped out of the closet in her sports bra but still having her boxers on.

you were on the bed, you had already put aside all the gifts that were on the bed. you weren’t wasting no time.

“you’re so fuckin’ breathtaking” ellie utters breathlessly. she had to let her eyes take you in from head to toe, wether you were wrapped up like a burrito or completely naked goddess statue; you looked absolutely enchanting every single time.

you could completely entice ellie at any give moment, you had her under your spell with just a look.

“take all of me, ellie” you whimper out, extending your leg to reach out to her as she stalked over to you.

“say it again, doll” ellie’s eyes were engulfed with hunger, getting ready to ravish you. she finally crawls ontop of you.

one hand holding her up as it pushed into the bed and the other one helping you rise your hips. ellie pulled down your thong, bringing it up to her nose.

she took in the smell of your arousal, she could’ve licked your underwear if she wanted too; completely wanting to be taken-over by the smell of your wet cunt.

“take all of me, every single part of me is a part of you.” you devoted yourself to her.

there was no one else that you wanted to be completely one with; ellie felt the exact dsme way.

those words leaving your mouth felt like music to ellie’s ears.

“i fucking love you doll, s’fucking much. till the end of this world.” she begins to passionately ramble as her hands eagerly begin to grope you.

ellies hands began by giving your thighs a soft-squeeze then going up to massage your hips, from there going to fondled your hickied titties; robe slipping to the side.

“mmhpm-so wet for me already” she utters out in a pleased tone as she sees your pussy glisten by your juices as she spread your legs apart.

you bit your lip, feeling impatient. you leaned up slightly to pull her down but she didn’t let you.

“nuh uh doll, you already pleased me enough. be a patient lil’girl” ellie coos, taking one of her hands from your breasts slowly tracing its way down.

ellie’s hand found its way to your dripping pussy, her fingers slightly toying with your hole “please-please” you grind your hip up into her two fingers, she retracts them.

ellie turned to her nightstand, turning away from you momentarily. you were confused but gave her time before questioning it.

when she turned back to you, she turned back around with her blue strap-on.

your mind automatically went nebulous.

“please wha’doll ?” her smirk cause shivers down your spine as she returned to towering over you.

your hands impulsively found their way to her back “fuck me till the sun comes up” you meant it, looking her dead in the eyes as you wrapped your legs around her waist.

“your wish is my command, mama” ellie’s eyes felt like daggers pricking at your skin, you felt such delectation at being at ellie’s mercy.

your back arched into her, your breasts pushing against hers “you can take m’cock doll, y’done it before-it’s okay” she soothes you sensually, her lips going back to wander all over your neck as she pushes your legs up to your stomach.

ellie slightly pulls away, to align her strap with your soaked hole. you lifted your hips up impatiently causing ellie to hold them back down aggressively while slamming herself inside you.

“fuck ellie!” you erotically wailed out her name in such a way, it made ellie want to ruin you even more.

“who can fuck this sweet pussy?” ellie grunts out as her hips snap against your skin “huuagh-you! fuck-only you!” you moan out, pleasure being the only thing known to your senses at the moment.

you felt her strap bumping your cervix slightly as her thrusts got more vigorous “s’good-feels s’good!” your fucked-out babble only becoming amusing to the demon that was your girlfriend in this bloody moment.

“what was that, doll? couldn’t hear ya” ellie smirked out, only fucking into you more ruthlessly before moving one of her hands to rub your clit with delicacy.

“awh god! ellie-puh-ah!” you tried to plead through your tears and overwhelmed moans “shh doll, you’re taking me perfectly” ellie coos, the hand that wasn’t rubbing your clit now went to your face.

she caressed your hot tear-stained cheek, leading her thumb to your slightly agape lips “open these up f’me, pretty doll” ellie tells you, sliding her thumb into your mouth.

the sight of as you took her thumb into your mouth while she was ontop of you, driving herself into you. the way you admired her tattoo, you took the hand that was on the side of the arm she was extending.

you continued to suck softly as you traced the outline of the veins that protruded through her tattoo.

the sight of it all bringing you closer to your orgasm.

she leaned back slightly as you sucked her thumb and oogled her arm, causing the upward angle to bring you pure rapture.

you let out a choked out gutteral moan against her thumb as her hips devilishly work you to your orgasm.

ellie knew how to make you cum not once, but for days.

the way you arched your back, chest inviting her lips to explore.

the way your legs shake as she fucks you relentlessly always; no matter how.

the way she had you calling out like the lyircs to your favorite song.

the way she turned you into a completely utter pornstar.

“ellie! ellie m’close! gonn-ah!” lips removing from her thumb, your lecherous shrieks ringing through the room.

“yeah, pretty mama? you gon’ cum all over this strap?” she groans out, she swore she could cum just of all of this.

you let out quick nods as your nails dragged out slight blood , feeling small droplets fall into your nails.

“your words, use them.” ellie grits out, her hips fuckiing you well through your orgasm “yes! m’gonna cum all over your dick!” your cries were pure melodies to ellies ear.

“i gotchu pretty doll, i gotchu” as her hips drastically halt, going from fash to now deep thrusts.

“ellie! ellie!” you clung to her as you shook through your orgasm.

“there you go, atta girl” ellie praises you as your orgasm waves through you, nothing but whimpers coming from your foggy fucked out mind.

once you calmed down in her embrace, she slowly pulled out her strap that was now covered in your cum.

“lets take a break, mama?” ellie suggests which you agree too pretty quick.

ellie went to the restroom, grabbing a towelette to clean you up and get you a glass of water.

once she came back, you were laying there wirh your robe tied up. you thanked her for the water as she cleaned you up from your juices.

you had went to the restroom after she cleaned you up. you made your way back into your shared room and as you open the door; there she was.

ellie williams.

there she fucking was…on one knee in only her boxers and a sports bra.

“will you marry me?”

the case that held your sparkly engagement ring being held by the woman of your dreams after just getting ruthlessly fucked, yet treated like a queen.

only something this wonder of a woman could do to you.

“yes, fuck yes, yes.”

you ran to her as she stood up, launching yourself into her arms.

you both went to enjoy your bed of roses t’ill sunrise.

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lonely--seeker · 2 months

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Practise vs Improv

Happy valentine, sending y'all kisses and hugs

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #serizawa katsuya #reigen arataka #Serirei #Someone should write a fanfic that goes like this (<- happens to be someone #i'll try to fit it into last year draft why not #my art #i was thinking about the times I'd go on dates for valentine with a friend #not that we called every hangout a date but still. it was a special valentine's date

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chadfallout76podcast · 1 month

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FALLOUT 4:

"DEATH SHROUD" SERIES UPDATE!

Check out the AMAZING artwork tumblr artist @rad-roche did for our second installment in the Death Shroud! series. This story is titled, "The Cat's Paw", and will see an even BIGGER cast of voice actors returning to reprise their roles this May to benefit Wes Johnson's VoiceAPalooza charity drive for the Alzheimer's Association.

Please note that the voice cast list may change as more people confirm, so this is likely NOT the final art.

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hoonvrs · 2 months

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R U ONLINE? — hyung line smau ( 3k special )

ON HOLD

PAIRING hyung line x fmr

HOW TO PLAY an interactive smau in which you as the reader decide the next step through a poll system. some updates may have a poll, some not depending on the progression. each poll will be linked in the chapter update so trust your intuition and have fun!

SYNOPSIS seems like there’s a small problem between the four best friends when they each find themselves crushing on the same girl. now it’s left up to you to decide who’s your endgame.

GENRE smau, more to be added

FEATURING ( enha ) all

WARNING swearing, kys/ kms/suicide jokes, friendly bullying, dirty/sex jokes ( more will be added if necessary)

STATUS on hold

TAGLIST ( OPEN ) send ask or comment to be added

S. NOTE tysmm for 3kk </33 wanted to do something special so decided on this lil fun games where i let my readers decide the course of this smau so hopefully it ends well and doesn’t get too angsty LMAOO

also please don't spam like as it shadowbans me and lessens engagement <3

PROFILES

DA boyz | DA girlz | DA privz

CHAPTERS

01 hundred hail marys STAT

02 the TRUE tortured artist

03 unbe-knownst

04 CHEEKY SLAG

05 perchance

06 youaremom

07 WARRR I DO

08 me at the aoa store

09 hoe out!

10 ominous as usual. Keep it up

11 jay stuns in new selfie

12 chop suiii

13 hahah what one direction said

14 ah gomen oomf chan

... more to be added

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shu-porang-porang · 2 months

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Cat In Heat

You got him a little surprise!

(sequel: Bunny In Heat)

Pairs: Lee Minho (Lee Know) / fem!reader

Rating: Very Explicit!

Theme: Smut, 18+ NO MINORS.

Warnings: oral, fingering, butt plug, spanking, unprotected sex (do not try at home!), (I think that's enough! let's keep some elements of surprise!)

Word count: 2.8 k

You received a text from Minho: “Hey baby, I’m gonna hit the gym and grab a bite with Jisung next.”

He arrived at 4 a.m. so you didn’t expect him to go to the gym first thing when he woke up, but apparently that’s what he’s gonna do. He was away for only 3 days but you missed him so much it was gnawing at your every fiber. Last night you only noticed his arrival when the mattress dipped next to you and then he spooned you. You tried to fight your sleep weary eyes and wake up to greet him properly but his warmth and the comfort of his presence lulled you back to sleep seconds later. When you woke up this morning, leaving the bed was the hardest thing, you just wanted to stay tangled up with his limbs but you had to leave for work. You slowly slipped out the bed, trying to not wake him up in the process, then placed the softest kiss on his temple, you couldn’t wait to get back and feast on his lips later.

You can’t wait for this work day to be over. Your mind is somewhere else entirely, you’re thinking of the little gift you prepared for him. Two days ago was Valentines Day and he was away. Since it was your first valentine together, you were bummed that you couldn’t spend it with him, but you knew what you got yourself into when you started dating a very busy idol, so you put up a front and did your best to assure him it didn’t matter and you weren’t upset. There’s no point in making a fuss about it anyway, it’s not like they would cancel their plans because you wanted to be with your boyfriend. He said he’d make it up to you later and you decided you can plan a belated valentine when he’s back. Little did he know, you’ve been preparing something for him for weeks. You just can’t decide on the right time to give it to him.

You’re done for the day and there’s nothing else for you to do at work, you ask your boss if you could leave earlier and he says yes. So, you rush to your shared apartment. You have some time before he’s home so you decide to unpack his suitcase. As you’re going through his stuff, you find a box of chocolate, you can’t read the Japanese written all over it, but there’s no doubt it’s chocolate. He always brings you some souvenir so without giving it much thought, you open the box and try one. Well, it’s nothing special, just descent chocolate. Not every souvenir has to be something unique, right? You place it on the drawer and go back to your task at hand.

As time passes by, you start to feel impatient and on edge. It’s like when you have lots of caffein and you get jittery, except that it’s more of a warm feeling, it settles deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly uncomfortable but you’re not sure what’s causing it so you decide to distract yourself by checking the little surprise you got for Minho. You take out the stuff you hid in the back of your bottom drawer and sprawl them out on the bed. It’s an outfit you’ve put together. White and pink lingerie, stockings, garters, a chocker, and few other accessories, but the most exciting parts of the ensemble are the fluffy cat ears and tail. You pick up the tail, feel the weight of the plug attached to it. It was the last item you got and you haven’t come around to try it yet. Suddenly you worry you won’t be able to wear it. What if you can’t get used to it and have to take it off? You don’t know when you’re gonna give him his gift, but you decide to try it now that you’re alone and see if you can handle it.

You take your pants and panties off, hold the tail in your hand, not sure how to go about it. You poke the tip of the shiny plug to your hole but you stop as you can’t get it in even the slightest. Idiot! You need to prepare with lube first! Your hands fidget through the drawer with excitement in search for the lube you bought. You picked a very specific flavor, caramel, hoping it would taste similar to pudding! Too bad they didn’t have a pudding flavor! You lather a finger up and try again. It’s really uncomfortable but you wanna do it for him and you will do it. It’s a weird feeling, having a finger up your butt, and you think there’s no way it’s gonna get loose enough for the plug to fit in but you don’t give up. The warm feeling in your stomach from earlier encourages you to keep going. You move that finger around till you feel less resistance, then you take it out to lube up two fingers this time. You don’t wanna get too loose or the plug will fall out? Is that even a thing? You don’t know, so you decide to give the plug a try. You carefully pour lube on the plug, you don’t wanna ruin the fur, then you push it in and it fits perfectly! You clench and unclench your sphincter a few times, testing how it feels, then you stand up and check yourself in the mirror.

Watching the tail dangling from between your butt cheeks turns you on instantly. You immediately rid yourself of the rest of your clothes to put all the parts of the ensemble on. You pose in front of the mirror. You spend some time putting on a light cute makeup while enjoying a second piece of chocolate, then take another look at your entire outfit. Wow! You look so fuckable!! If only Minho got home sooner. You take a photo of your thigh hugged tightly by the stockings and the garter and send it to him along with: “Are you really gonna hang out with that stupid Ji while I’m waiting for you like this?”

A few seconds later you receive a text from him: “On my way, be there in 10 minutes”

He finally gets home. He’s heart been racing since he laid eyes on that photo and he’s been sporting a semi-hard cock all along. Good thing his oversized hoodie covered it up. He opens the door to the apartment to find you stretched out on the couch, practically humping a cushion.

“Holy fuck! What’s gotten into you today?” He says as he approaches you in disbelief. His eyes scanning your outfit and becoming wide in shock as he notices the tail poking from under the mini skirt covering your ass.

“I’m just being hot for my boyfriend, is that wrong?” You say, stretching like a cat and raising your ass in the air. The skirt rides up and he sees that the tail isn’t a strap on or attached to the skirt.

He kneels next to the couch, running a hand up your thigh till it reaches where the tail inserts your body. He gives the plug an experimental push that draws a whimper from you.

“Kitty’s in heat, huh? What a naughty lil kitty. I’ll take care of you, pussy cat.” His hand comes in contact with your drenching pussy as he says the last word. You mewl in need. Your skin is on fire and his touch feels too good to be true. You can’t think straight, all you know is that you need him next to you, on you, in you, you just want him to take you right then and there.

He picks you up effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, plops you on the bed and causes the plug to go a bit deeper, drawing a hiss from you. You sit up and get on your knees, reaching for his hand to drag him to bed.

“Easy baby, what’s the rush?” He says as his free hand is unbuttoning his shirt. Despite your needy erratic movements, he’s so calm, mostly just enjoying the view of your eagerness.

As soon as he gets on the bed, you reach to unbuckle his belt. He watches you in silence, the way your dainty fingers struggle with the belt and his waistband. You pull his pants and boxers down and he eases out of them. His cock springs free and you don’t hesitate to attach your lips to it. Usually it’s not how things go, you haven’t even kissed him once since he arrived, but your head is filled with carnal desires and you don’t need foreplay to get in the mood.

He leans back on his elbows as your head bobs up and down on his member, bringing it to life fast. You lick a fat stripe from the base to the top, your tongue teases the head with playful licks, his low grunts are melody to your ears. Precum pearls on the tip and you collect it all with your tongue. You wrap your lips around the tip again and give it a few sucks. He sits back up to stop you.

“I won’t last long if you keep that up.” he lifts your chin up, and fixes your cat ear headpiece “Aigoo! What a dirty little kitty.” He coos at you with his eyes fixed on your lips, all swollen and red, so kissable. You get the cue and move closer, clashing your lips. Kissing him after days feels like you’ve been deprived of oxygen and you can finally breathe. You straddle him, your fingers in his soft locks, his hands around your shoulders, your chests heave against one another. You push him on his back as you deepen the kiss, you hungrily suck on his tongue and pull his lips between your teeth. You only stop when your lungs are burning. You hide your face in his neck as you’re gasping for air, your core finding a rhyme to ride his thigh. You moan out his name at the new found friction. You’re not wearing any panties; you thought it wouldn’t be practical with a plug up your butt. Your slick coats his muscular thigh.

“Is kitty having a good time?”

“…mmh” you can’t form words, your brain already signed off and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You suck a spot under his ear while his hand reaches down to squeeze your butt cheek under the skirt.

“Then do me a favor and sit that pretty pussy down on my face.”

You don’t hesitate to follow his order. His tongue skillfully laps at your wet core, his nose nudges your clit. You try not to move but you have no control over your body anymore. Your hips move on their own, riding his face, so he gives your ass a slap as a warning. A loud squeak escapes your lips. You do your best to behave but how can you when now he’s sucking on your clit, while hooking a finger inside you and toying with the plug at the same time. He stops all stimulations at once when he realizes your close.

“…Min…… please”

“Naughty kitties don’t get to come so easily. Now get on fours”

You comply, what else would you do? You’d jump off a cliff if he told you so. You wiggle your ass to his face as he’s closely observing where the plug disappears inside you. Your outfit’s still intact but it’s not gonna last long. He pulls the plug out without warning and replaces it with his tongue. Instantly you hear his satisfied groan, he’s probably enjoying your choice of lubricant. You push back on his face, needing more friction. He brings a hand to rub around your clit while his teeth graze your rim. Your arousal drips shamelessly on the sheets, it’s like a leaky faucet, that’s how good he’s having you now. You never even imagined having your asshole eaten would feel good, something’s really gotten into you. He stops his ministrations just as you’re starting to feel the orgasm build up for the second time. He steps back to admire the view before shoving the plug back in and give you new instructions.

“Close your thighs and press them tight for me princess.”

You look back and see him aligning his oozing cock.

“Just… fuck me… already”

“Too soon…” he forcefully shoves his cock in the small gap between your thighs “…ughhh….for that”

After a few thrusts, he’s fully covered in your juices so he picks up the pace as it slides easier. His member rubs on your clit with every thrust but it’s nowhere near enough to get you off. He gives you a slap that makes you press your thighs harder, so he gives you another, and another, and another. You press your head to the pillow to muffle your yelps. You think you might be reaching a climax this time but no. He takes the plug out and flips you around. This time you don’t just complain with words, but tears are running down your face. You’re a mess.

“Oh little kitty, why the tears? Was I too harsh with my sweet angel?” he says as he towers over you and leans to kiss your tears away.

“No…. just….wanna cum”

“You will baby. You will”

He kisses your face some more and moves down to your neck and chest. He yanks your frilly chocker with his teeth and throws it on the bed, so he can properly kiss and mark your neck. Then he unhooks the lacy matching bra and discards it somewhere else in the room. His hands come in contact with your soft breasts, his thumbs rub your nipples simultaneously and your lips part in a whimper.

“My gorgeous lil kitty” he admires as he continues to knead your breasts and then dips to take one pebbled nipple between his teeth. His tongue twirls around it and he closes his lips on it to suck. His hand travels south to slip between your folds and find your entrance. He has two fingers inside you, with his thumb pressing down on your clit. You buck your hips up to his touch. He lets go of your nipple and comes back up to kiss your lips with his fingers still inside you. You’re so lost in the hot sloppy kiss that before you know it, his dick takes the place of his fingers in you. Fucking finally!

You bite his shoulder as he bottoms out in one go and the stretch overwhelms you. He moans in your ear from your delicious tightness.

“Please….Move baby” you plead and he obeys. Caging you between his hands on either side of your head, he takes his sweet time with slow thrusts. He pushes your thighs to your chest and throws your legs over his shoulders. With this new angle he reaches deep inside, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach again for the… you don’t even know how many times he got you there and left you unfulfilled. You tightly hold onto him as his thrusts get faster.

“ugh… gonna…. c..cum…”

“Cum for me… angel” he kisses your parted lips, muffling your moans, as your orgasm finally washes over you. He reaches a hand down to pinch your clit, your entire body jolts with each pinch as you’re riding out your orgasm. It’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had, well, you’d say that about every orgasm with him, but this one really hits different. Your fluttering walls around him milk him dry and a string of curses leaves his lips as he joins you. He rides his climax, still thrusting into you until your mixed cum forms a ring around his base.

He pulls out and falls on top of you, you don’t mind the weight, you’re too tired to care anyway and he feels like a heavy blanket, you don’t even care about your sticky bodies or sheets. You think you could die happy at this moment but he gets up to clean you before you drift off to sleep. He takes a good look at your fucked out state “Gosh! Baby you’re so hot. I love you so much”. You smile with your eyes closed “love you too”. You’re almost entering dreamland when he startles you:

“Fuck! Baby you ate these chocolates?” He found the open box of chocolates you left on the drawer.

“..mhmm”

“Did you know these were aphrodisiacs?”

“WHAT?” suddenly you’re fully awake, your eyes darting towards his direction.

“I wanted to try them together.” He says with an evident pout on his face.

“There’s still plenty left bunny boy.”

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aidaronan · 1 year

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Valentine's Day at the bar is always a bit chaotic. There are the couples who'd prefer something simplistic. There are the singles and groups who'd rather get fucked up than think about how no matter how emotionally evolved they feel the other 11 months of the year, February always tears down the walls and leaves them feeling raw.

Eddie gets it. He pours a little heavy for those ones even though he knows he'll probably have to clean up something unholy in one of the bathrooms later.

It takes him a while to notice the guy tucked away in one of the back booths. He'd seen him earlier when he came in, a white rose in his hand when he ordered a beer.

Eddie had registered him as cute, all pouty lips and perfect hair, with brown eyes that sometimes caught the light and bled green. But Eddie hadn't thought much about him after that. He'd written him off after seeing the flower, and there had been so so many drinks to pour.

"It's your turn." Chrissy tosses a damp rag at him, washes her hands, and goes back to mixing long islands at a breakneck pace.

Eddie bangs his hip on the corner of the bar, swearing on his way to clear and wipe down sticky tables. He finds rose guy nursing the same beer he'd sold him hours ago, the flower sitting in the middle of the table.

"Oh, sorry," Eddie says. "Thought this one was empty."

"It's fine. I should probably..." The guy drains the last dregs of room temperature beer. "You know what they say. Stand me up once, shame on you. Stand me up twice... Or whatever." He gives Eddie a smile that's more of a cringe, like he wishes he could take the words back the second he says them.

"Her loss." Eddie means it. If he had a guy like that, he'd be insufferable about him.

"His. I'm bi."

"Oh." Eddie glances back at Chrissy, her eyes already searching for him. "I have to get back before they go full Helm's Deep on the bar, but I tell you what. Next one's on me. Alliance of the lonely queers and all that." Eddie gives the guy a pat on his shoulder.

He doesn't really expect the guy to stick around, but he does. He takes Eddie's generous offer in the form of the cheapest beer on the menu, and he moves from the back booth to a seat at the bar.

When Eddie fucks up making a drink because he couldn't hear the order, he slides it next to the guy's Natty Light. "Please stop forcing yourself to drink that. It's painful to watch."

"It's fine. Brings back memories." "Of what? Vomiting outside of someone's shitty house party?"

Eddie can hear him laugh even over the noise. It's the best tip he's gotten all night. (Though he does notice the $5 the guy slips into the tip jar when he thinks Eddie's too busy theatrically mixing a mojito.)

"Alright bitches!" Chrissy hops up onto the bar with all the grace of someone who has a box full of old cheerleading medals in her closet. Eddie cuts the music, and her voice carries like she's leading a pep rally. "Last call!" She points at the crowd of drunks, most of them familiar enough with the bar to play along.

"For alcohol!" they finish for her, some of them rushing up to the ordering stations even while they holler.

The call and response goes on for a solid 30 seconds or so. Mid-pour, Eddie catches the stranger's eyes and gets a smile for it that almost knocks him on his ass. Eddie shakes spilled whiskey off his fingers.

"One more time," Chrissy yells. "Last call!"

"For alcohol!"

"As always drive safe and fuck safe." Chrissy pretends to curtsy in her jeans. "Cab numbers and condoms next to the payphones. Tip your bartenders or we'll find you." She hops down off the bar and starts taking final orders as the bar starts to empty.

Even after they shut down the register, the guy doesn't leave.

"Who's the dreamboat making eyes at you?" Chrissy asks, scrubbing glasses so fast Eddie's surprised she doesn't sprain her wrist.

"He is kind of a dreamboat, huh?"

She sighs. "I'll give you five minutes to secure a date, and then I need you to help me close so I can go home and take a hot bath. God, I want to cut off my feet."

"I want to replace my lower back with Terminator parts, so I get it. Thanks Chris." Eddie grabs a bar rag and makes his way down to the end. The stranger sits up straighter on his bar stool.

"Hey." An awkward scrub of the back of his neck. "Sorry if I misread anything. I can go if you aren't..." He fiddles with the now-limp rose, thumbing gently over one of the thorns. "Like I know you're working so you might have just been being-"

"Relax," Eddie says. "You didn't misread anything, dude." Eddie smiles at him and wipes drink rings off the countertop.

"Oh." A breath of relief. "Thank God for that because you...you're..." He shakes his head.

"Because I'm what? I will fish for a compliment for hours, man. Don't test me."

"And I will ruin shit by talking too much."

"Try me."

The guy sighs. "Because you're nice. Don't get me wrong, you're hot too. With the hair and the ripped jeans. Plus I've been making bets with myself all night about how many tattoos you have. But I don't need hot. I need nice. And you're nice."

"Oh." A beat. Eddie chews on his lip. "I don't know actually. How many tattoos I have, I mean." Ugh. "Like, I do try to be nice obviously, to everyone and especially to pretty guys. But if I got five different tattoos and then I connected them all into one piece, is that still five tattoos or is it one tattoo?" Seriously, Eddie has thought about this topic so much. Too much. "So depending on how you do tattoo math, I have anywhere from seventeen to twenty-nine tattoos. What's your name?"

"Steve. I'm Steve. Harrington."

"Oh, we're doing full names?" Eddie realizes he's been wiping the same part of the bar over and over again and stops. "I'm Eddie. Munson. So..." God, it's incredible that Eddie's still nervous given the situation, and yet. "So there's a 24-hour diner two blocks from here, Steve Harrington. Meet you when we're done closing up?"

"I question you referring to a Waffle House as a '24-hour diner,' but that sounds..." Steve laughs softly and ducks his head. "Nice. It sounds nice."

Eddie returns his soft smile and watches him leave, dropping the battered rose into the trash on the way out.

He and Chrissy close the bar in record time, and he sees her onto her bus with a kiss on the cheek.

"Have fun," she says.

"Enjoy your bath."

"God, I so will."

Eddie's halfway to the Waffle House when he runs into a street vendor closing up a little booth of bouquets meant for Valentine's Day stragglers. He finds himself thinking about that sad white rose, wondering if anyone's bought Steve flowers lately. Or ever.

"I'll take those yellow daisies," Eddie says, forking over a bit of cash. He second-guesses himself three or four times before he slides into the booth across from Steve and watches his face light up.

"My favorite color," Steve tells him. "And daisies are my favorite. My great-grandma always had them in her window when I was a kid. When my parents left town, we'd play card games in her living room and eat homemade fudge."

Silently, Eddie vows to get Steve Harrington yellow daisies as long as Steve will have him around.

"Mine would always drag me to bingo," Eddie says. "I loved it."

By the time they've both finished a stack of pancakes, Eddie has Steve's number scrawled in the blank space between 2-5 tattoos. Steve has Eddie's written on a napkin along with plans for their next date.

They talk on the phone every day until Eddie meets Steve for dinner, handing him a bouquet of happy yellow daisies, accepting a handful of deep purple calla lilies in return.

It's nice.

#steddie #fanfic #mine #valentines day #alcohol #eddie munson & chrissy cunningham

3K notes · View notes

bloodcasket · 5 months

Text

“ EASY, BABY ”⋆ ﾟ☾

PAIRING: DI!Jill Valentine x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Pure NSFW (descriptive smut), Age gap centered!! (Death Island! Jill), Female described reader, Dom!Jill, Sub!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, reader described as more inexperienced than Jill (nothing too specified), innocence kink, fingering, finger sucking, tribbing, panty play, dirty talk, jill just loves to praise, teasing on Jill’s behalf, a lil bit of manhandling. LIGHTLY PROOF-READ!

WORD COUNT: 7.4K+

DESCRIPTION: The whole department and crew is out for celebration at a restaurant. As Jill sits amongst the table, she spots the new girl, young and timid, giving shy glimpses from across the table.

AUTHORS NOTE: SUPERR rusty after lack of writing for a couple of months now, really hoping this satisfies because Jilly bean doesn’t get enough fics written about her. Let me know if there’s any mistakes, please and thank you! (I’m so normal for her, i promise). Took me too long to finish, and i got lazy toward the end.

The last thing you wanted was to deal with any of the men sitting around you, feeling forced to pry out fake enjoyment and formulate fraudulent smiles at any of their cheesy comments.

They were all grown and lax, after all, middle-aged and experienced, their worries about leaving bad impressions left long ago after years of regulating bioterrorism. They just simply didnt care, and tonight was meant to be jubilant, after all. It was a way to congratulate the team for arriving back home in one piece. Clank glasses of iced bourbon and smile after the weeks of prolonged misery and uncertainty.

It had only been a few minutes that you sat, waiting at this table, the celebratory event making you feel like the black sheep.

A timid, young stranger, her shoulders hunched in discontent, and her expression nonchalant as she sat alongside the chairs of older individuals, ones who laughed and cheered, shook hands and grinned with their cheeks shaded crimson, wrinkles creasing around the shape of their eyes.

It was people who worked drastically to make the trip to Alcatraz bearable, and handled more experience within this field. Something you felt you lacked. Something you saw yourself unequal to, off putting. In other words, even undeserving.

Employment under “The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance” was nearing a few months now for you, but your line of work strayed far from any defensive units, due to your familiarity with the information management department. You organized required files and handled technological tasks under supervisors order, you weren’t genuinely handling firearms and terminating undead like the others were within the BSAA. You were simple, and did your part, participation with higher-ups was foreign.

The invitation to come here was optional, of course, but your ripe desire to see a certain woman was hard to swallow. After several days of trying to deny yourself this opportunity, the denial became fruitless, and you finally succumbed; which leads you to sitting at this lengthy dining room table, shuffling in discomfort and trying best to bite back any resurfacing regret.

It’s a restaurant, aromas conjoining in the air, certain scents collecting that it perplexes you. The whisks of alcohol burn through your nostril hairs—your lip twitches in discontent, jaw soon slacking as fragrances of broth and caramelized delicacies fog around you. You scrunch your face and twist your cute nose, huffing in the perfumes of delight.

It was all so overwhelming, and yet you had barely done anything yet sit and spend a few minutes skimming the menu—fiddling with your hands on the table when you yearned for a distraction. And yet; another server hurries past your seat, wide platters in hand, a trail of aromatics left in his wake. Drool draws upon your impatient tongue, you wondered how much longer it would take.

“Jill, didn’t think you’d make it”, a male voice chimes, you're able to single it out amongst the banter of the public place, trying best to listen as other residents at the table mumble out tipsy-tainted sentences, snortling and getting themselves comfortable as they slosh down fancy cocktails.

The timid position in which you kept yourself in the moment you sat down at this table seems to have been disoriented, a stiffness residing down the arch of your neck as you lift your head and adjust your eyes to your surroundings.

Dimly lit, and silken curtains are drawn over windows for the evening, you blink a few times to observe across the table, eyes stretching past messy cutlery, and halfway bubbling glasses. You blink again, throat moving slowly as you swallow dryly.

Under tinted yellow light, she sits. She’s shaking her head, exaggerating a huff of exhaustion as she edges her seat closer to the table. Brunette hair is silken and syrupy brown, a few strands askew from where she let the hair descend down her face and tickle the middle of her neck, the vision filling you with exhilaration.

‘Jill Valentine’, you suddenly think, watching as she’s easing herself more comfortably into the seat, shaded heels of her boots sliding forward as she pushes her legs apart, elbows jutting against the hickory surface that you oh-so-admired for several minutes straight. She’s hunched over improperly, wrapped up in a gray woolen cardigan, not caring much for table manners. A heat brewed low in the pit of your stomach.

“Had to finish my report, it was a pain in the ass”, her adjacent partner seems to love this reaction—being that he chuckles shortly afterward, “would prefer if you took it off my shoulders next time”.

“Your responsibility”, he replies nonchalantly, Chris Redfield from what you remember, a known operator within the BSAA. He was respected largely by his peers, a man with his time spent sacrificing and protecting, all for the benefit of “greater good”. You couldn’t say much about him, you couldn’t say much about anyone to be quite frank, except for one person. His partner in crime.

Needless to say, you scrounged through your closet for hours one night to pull out piles of clothes in desperate search to find something presentable for this woman. Bouncing your eyes back and forth over different varieties of garments, torturing yourself over the delusional manifestation that you’ll attract Jill Valentine tonight.

Intimidating. Most would plaster that description over her if it was all for first impressions. A 41 year old military woman who can carry her guns just as wonderfully as she can carry her foul language. She’s blunt, and by no means patient due to certain circumstances, but with the small moments she’s managed to pass alongside you, the tiny things don’t go unnoticed.

Coincidentally, you bump into her in the lobby; she’d chuckle jovially, waving one hand toward you dismissively as you ramble out apologetic gibberish. Reassuringly telling you “it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it”.

You’re heading toward a file room? She’ll catch you in the halls, velvet lips upturned into a gentle grin as she greets you with your name slipping off her tongue, blue eyes narrowed down at you in an observant manner. She remembers the little details, remembers you.

To say it was innocent appreciation was incorrect. It was an attraction, and the more your female superior managed to cross paths with you, the more you felt the warmth in your stomach churn and twist. It embarrassed you, to say the least. Jill Valentine was probably an individual with her priorities straight, and here you were, grinding your thighs together as you squirm uncomfortably in your seat, front teeth gnawing on the swell flesh of your bottom lip. You looked ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Ogling an older woman as if she were some high school crush. Where were your priorities?

Heaps of chestnut hair suddenly color your vision, blocking your delicate view as a head leans forward to inch closer to the woman you admire, “Here Jill, saved your drink until you got here”, her voice is flowery and feminine, a tinge of nasal sweetness at the end of her chirping sentences. “Glad to see you”. You almost envy her in this moment.

“Thanks, Claire”, a pale palm wraps around the transparent glass, pearls of condensation glistening on Jill’s lengthy fingertips, her nails clumsily trimmed, and beaten hands calloused from her work. You feel your breath hitch at the sight, cotton mouthed as you watch.

Tonight was going to be long. Too long, if this was all you were going to think about.

Claire retreats to her original position in the chair, her conversation with the brunette ephemeral as she focuses her attention on another, leaving Jill solemn in her thoughts, curtly nodding to every general word Chris might possibly say. She’s taciturn, and trained on the voice of her adjacent companion.

Without the veil of ember strands shrouding over the woman’s face, you melted in your seat, lethargic and ditzy as you bored your beady eyes into the vision that was just blissfully her.

One sip, then another. Her lips curl around the lip of the glass, swallowing measured amounts of golden whiskey that smell like smoke and peaty.

“We should all get together and go on vacation after all this, think we deserve that much”, Chris suggests this as he wedges his fork into the collops of filet spread along his plate, in which the other hums, her eyes flickering from the pit of her glass and then forward, peering across the table.

Rings of cerulean catch your nosiness, and you feel the organ within your rib cage falter, and then within seconds accelerate, heart racing like a jack rabbit inside your chest. She caught you staring.

She keeps the contact for a few seconds; you’re the one who widens your eyes and cowers into yourself, suddenly pretending that the entree platter of pillowy bread rolls is of much more interest.

You think you’ve gone crazy, due to the slanted, open mouthed smirk she summons on her face, mumbling a few words in reply to the male beside her (which you don’t catch due to how much blood is rushing to your face, head swarmed with internal comments of how utterly humiliated you feel). Nevertheless, the intrigue she displays is clearly prevalent, more so in the way your young face ducked to hide yourself other than the subtle conversation Chris clearly tried to create.

Just as you had foreseen, the night was indeed long and mundane, and your quick glances at the nonchalant beauty sitting opposite of you was practically dangerous, due to how cautious she seemed of her surroundings and every object that crossed her. A habit she carried in her occupation, you supposed. She was by no means incognizant. (It would be a lie if you didn’t at least give one glimpse, though. Maybe two…maybe three).

You can’t recall if it had been an hour or more, but the facade of enjoyment seemed to lose its potency, and perhaps for others as well.

Little by little, the crew took their leave, furred winter coats slung over the slope of their shoulders as they waved and headed out for the night, giving you some trivial excuse to join alongside them. With the bill paid generously in reward for everyone, the crowd migrated out through the exit doors and into the parking lot, the wisps of frosty air breezing past in copious amounts.

You trembled, nails dipped into the lower fabric of your mini dress, trying best to ease it further down your thighs as you cursed yourself for wearing such attire.

‘All that work just to stare at her like a fucking idiot’, and now here you were, with gritted teeth and trembling flesh as you shuffled down the sidewalk in shame, purse hung over your shoulder whilst you made your way home. That is, until the crackling of gravel wound up behind you, tires rolling over cement and bright beams flashing over you as if you were a deer in the headlights. An unfamiliar car slowly approaches beside you, and you stumble in your heels as you halt.

“You waitin’ on someone or something?”, the subdued hum of the engine had synthesized with the husky chuckle that was rightfully Jill’s, “don’t tell me you were actually gonna walk home in that? No jacket?”

An arm is laid firm across the surface of her car door, her head peering out through the window as she leans forward, her expression is practically incredulous. As if she was disappointed in your choice-making, and your lack of self-awareness for the weather and time of night. She thrums her fingers across the door impatiently, other hand gripping her steering wheel as she expects an answer.

“I was just-“, and here’s the flaring heat of humiliation rising once more. Your lips are molded into a solemn line, her glare of ridicule made you feel guilty for not asking for her aid in the first place. “I’m not too far from here- I wouldn’t want to be a bother”. You’re lying through your teeth, and the brunette scoffs as if she already knows.

“Fucking hell, you were actually going to do it? You’re too young to be doing stuff like that”, she jests in a low manner, muttering more so to herself than to you. Her arm slithers back inside the vehicle, head motioning to the empty passenger seat with a quick nod. “Like hell I’m letting you walk home, it’s not safe. I’ll give you a ride. Get in”.

The authority of her tone makes your knees wobbly, and the way she sits back in her seat with her neck craned against the headrest commands urgency. She’s waiting. You feel a lump harden in your throat. She’s waiting for you.

You hasten your little steps, sheepishly opening the car door and sliding inside, whispering with pruned lips how thankful you are for the ride. You’re stiff in the seat next to her, hands folded in the center of your lap; they were numbed from the cold, goosebumps embroidered along your delicate flesh.

“Don’t mention it”, she brushes off the innocent gratitude with a witty shake of her head, vehicle rolling through the asphalt, leaving the parking lot with just a planate flick of the wrist, elongated fingers dipping into the rubberized padding of the steering wheel. You watch from your peripheral, nostrils flaring as you shakily inhale, splashes of soap and freshly cleaned laundry breeze over you, and you relish in it, stomach all filled with butterflies over something as simple as the older woman’s scent.

“Where to, then?”, she inquires with a throaty hum, vision focused on the road ahead of her. She sighs in frustration when you tell her, though she grins in utter amusement, laughing when you deluge her with stuttering apologies over a mere lie.

“Christ. Thought you said you were close?”. She makes a turn, dirt crackling under the wheels as she pulls onto another street.

“I know, I’m sorry”, you mumble in shame, hands folding tighter and tighter until your knuckles jut against your skin, your face all flushed. Lower lining of the dress you wore was hiked up your thighs, you felt so exposed and scrutinized alongside her, in her car.

“It’s alright, don’t take me too seriously. New girl, right? I remember. Explains why you’re always so quiet”, Jill continues with the conversation, glimpsing over just for a second to study you before she’s focused again. “You enjoy the place? They had some nice drinks, don’t you think? It wasn’t all too bad”, you frown at her words, a heaviness nested in your chest. You hadn’t really done much tonight at the celebration. Nothing other than ogle at her, eat some bread rolls, and then ogle at her some more.

“I didn’t drink anything really, unfortunately”, admitting this was rather awkward, due to how much desire you held to impress her. Now you just felt inadequate, lackluster. “Too many people I didn’t know, if that makes any sense. I must sound boring, don’t I?”.

“Not even one drink?”, she questions, lips curved up into an open-mouthed grimace as she flutters her eyelashes in teasing surprise. “Free to get whatever you want, and you’re telling me you were too shy to even drink anything?”, and she sneers when you nod, biting down laughter in hopes she could keep you comfortable in her presence. Smile lines deepen around the shape of her mouth, silky lips blessed with a tint of coral, apples of her cheeks glowing with every beguilement grin.

“It doesn’t hurt to celebrate, you know. You work hard, I’ve noticed”, she pauses, considering her next words carefully, not wanting to tread any risky lines, “I’m not that far from my apartment anyway, want to have a drink or two? Think I’ve got some lying around, wouldn’t hurt to get em’ used up”.

Green light hanging up ahead switches rapidly from yellow to red, crimson hue painted over the dashboard and along the height of your body. You’ve sunken a little in the passenger seat, all wide-eyed and panicked when she offers. You open your mouth to answer, but she cuts you off before you could turn the opportunity down.

“Just the two of us, okay? I don’t bite, I promise”, and you swear you’re melting, too convinced. You nod in response, a simple “sure” is all you can hiccup.

‘Maybe all that time ripping apart my wardrobe was worth it?’

Maybe so, because Jill fucking Valentine is moving her lengthy index finger to the left of her steering wheel, flicking on her turn signal without a single ounce of hesitation, and then making a u-turn that can only promise one thing.

The ride to her apartment.

Agreeing was most definitely easier than doing, that was for certain. With the door opening, and her leading the way inside, not only then does it really solidify into reality. One of your leading superiors—a trained operations agent—has driven you back to her apartment to “share drinks” and “celebrate without all the other chatter”. At least that’s what she bargained for in the car.

You’ve politely found purchase on the faux leather cushion of her couch, material beige and smoothened, and you curl into it as you keenly gape around the place.

The condo is fresh, and crisp, organized and minimalistic, but still with a trace that’s so understandably miss valentine.

After hearing about rumors of Jill’s horror in raccoon city, you can almost bet she’s much more at ease now, with her new place, and her new position. Eager to distance from her solemn past.

She’s a workaholic, that’s for sure, multiple rooms in her living space and she’s dedicated one for her research; the door slightly agape, and you can’t help but satiate your curiosity as you squint your eyes and look past the doorknob.

With what little you can see through the crevice, there’s a desk inside with files strewn along the top, corkboard furnished along the wall and vital information pinned to it with colored thumbtacks. Not able to help yourself, a tender smile cracks on your lips as you notice irrelevant stickers plastered along the granulated cork, designs of cats and succulents the older woman has happily put everywhere. Your heart pangs at the innocent gesture, imagining such a stern individual indulging herself with such small and adorable items.

“Do you have a preference? Want anything in particular?”, said woman calls from the kitchen, face astern and a hand pushing the fridge door open. Hastily, you retreat your beady eyes, suddenly feeling impertinent for your sense of wonder. She lists off what she has, but it’s all foreign to you, not making much sense from your lack of alcohol expertise.

“I’m not sure”, you shrug sheepishly, a bashful grin displayed, “anything is fine, really”. ‘Anything that you pick, I’ll drink’, sounds more correct, but you digress.

She reads you like you’re an open book, your naivety and youth all too transparent and sat right on her couch, eyebrows furrowed and hands respectfully folded in your lap. A position she’s noticed you in ever since you were rigid and unsettled in her vehicle. When were you ever going to relax? It filled her with incomprehensible mirth, the way you were.

“You’re quite young, aren’t you?”, Jill teases a little, poking at the spots that make you internally weak as she flashes a knowing smirk, “don’t drink a lot I take it? That’s alright”.

She retrieves two glasses from her cupboard and fills them with her pick as you so kindly advocated, closing the fridge and then sauntering over. She takes her place beside you, the leather sinking from the weight of two, her thigh resting along the couch and the shape of her kneecap brushing against you.

“All yours. Bottoms up”, a throaty chuckle resounds in her throat as she offers the drink, ushering for you to take it into your small hands, in which you oblige with unreadable panic. “Cheers”, she clinks her glass with yours, before she’s reclining into the cushion and swallowing, throat muscles contracting up and down.

You only manage to gulp down a small portion of the beverage, soured reaction shriveling your lips. It wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it was Jill’s, and you found it as well sought after as any nobel prize. This drink, this couch, this moment. This moment with her, even if every lick of the bitter whiskey was deathly, you would still sacrifice every lumpy taste bud just for a second with the woman.

Slowly, she sets the drink down on the coffee table, and you watch her movements carefully. Those hands of hers guide the cardigan off her shoulder blades, shrugging the gray fabric down and onto an armrest with a composed exhale.

What torture it is, your foolish reverence for her. Dirty incalescence ferments between the swell of your thighs, burning and burning once you catch sight of the dip between her chest, cleavage freckled with age and brown moles dotted along her sharpened collarbone. Her tight little blue tank top hiding underneath that damned cardigan this whole time. The fabric is stressed across the seaming of her bust, creased and curled until it dips down and hugs around the frame of her waist. There’s no fucking way you’ll be able to make it through tonight without slipping up.

“You’re brave for working under the organization, no matter what you do. Reminds me of when I first started training, I was around your age too. It’s risky, but I’m sure you already know that”, she bends downward to unlace her coal-shaded boots, tugging the zipper down without an ounce of patience in her.

“You gettin’ along with everybody? How is everything, with the new position and all? I mean, the way you were acting earlier, it makes me worried. If anyone’s screwing with you-”.

“No no no, it’s not like that, I promise”, you cut her off, shaking your head quickly in hopes you could help her understand your viewpoint, in which she glances at you and sits upright. She got you to talk, and if she wasn’t absolutely smug about it.

“Everything is fine, and the department is kind to me. You’ve been very generous too, and I’m thankful. I’m just…still trying to get used to everything”, she bobs her head with acumen, digesting every syllable and stumble of your words, listening maturely. She finds flattery in your compliment toward her, doing best not to grin.

“How is it with, um…you and Chris?”, you ask, and the moment the question slips past your lips, you’re filled with utter regret. What kind of question was that? Valentine raises her eyebrow in bewilderment, shocked by the sudden change in subject. She draws her arm along the head of the couch, manspreading whilst she sits as she pleases, eyes still narrowed with pique and pointed in your general direction.

“Me and Chris?”, the laughter she bellows out is vocal, giggling deeply without much restraint, “we’re partners, is all. We’ve been in this field for a while now.”

The way she carries herself around you is as if she’s known you for years, like this is just some humorous conversation that fills her with interest. She wasn’t this excited to speak at the restaurant, you’ve noted, and it’s heartwarming. You, of all people, have made her soft.

Despite all the liquor she’s consumed tonight, she is still impressively sober, quick to catch on to all your soft spoken words, and averting eyes. Although, her high tolerance, of all things, is not a particular trait of hers that surprises you. It only aids the turmoil that rumbles in your chest; it makes you feel weighed down and heavy, the scent of luxurious usquebaugh lingering on her tongue after every breath she releases.

“I see”, you mumble, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jill rolls her blue eyes, “you’re always apologizing, you have nothing to be sorry about”, the room falls silent, clock that’s hung on her wall ticking as seconds prolong into minutes. That is, until she speaks again.

“What about you? Got a boyfriend? Lay it on me”, and the room feels like it’s suddenly enclosing, the words strangely suffocating, and you refuse to admit your sheer infatuation you bore for her. You shake your head with silence, finding that your speechlessness was a better reply rather than your jumbled words of anxious gibberish. One slip up, and you knew it would be over.

Your fingers tease the constricting dress again, eyes exerting to the way your thighs expand and lay flat on her sofa. The way the material fits you like a glove was sweltering, especially with her obsidian pupils beating down on you, drinking up your every tentative counter.

“So that’s a no”, she snorts at your lack of volume, feeling filled with confidence. “You stare a lot, you know that? I noticed you looking at me all night. I don’t scare you, do I?.”

You shoot your attention toward her now, irises apprehensively rounded and wide, and you feel the world absolutely crumble as you're struck with distress over her admittance. She did notice, after all. How pathetic you must have looked the whole time, peering from the fucking entree platter to her every couple of minutes, so visibly envious whenever anyone uttered a single word to her.

“No, I”-

Your pale lips tremble as they open, an absinthal taste wrought over your tongue and depleting any moisture from your mouth. You try to answer, meek and destroyed from your own clumsy dilemma. How different this could have been, if only you weren’t so gullible when it came to your yearning, now leading yourself into chagrin as you couldn’t keep your eyes away earlier.

“I’m sorry”, you pipe out, “I didn’t mean to”-, and she’s engulfing you, brain all smothered into mush and your body liquidizing to putty under the embrace she ensnares you in. Countless nights you’ve spent imagining how every curve of her lips feels pressed along yours, how they move, how they taste, but absolutely nothing can put into words how beautiful they feel as they swallow up your squeaks of dismay.

She’s crawling forward until she’s got you all laid out underneath her, squirming in your position as you submit to the palm she lays on your chest, a firm push she gives until you’ve gone flat amongst the leather cushion. With her legs now entangled with yours, she’s content, humming into the kiss she’s so rightfully initiated, sharp nose dipping into the velvet skin of your face, and skimming along your cheek with every tilt of her head.

Challenged by inexperience, you try best to keep up with the opening and closing of her mouth she’s laying upon you, her eyes sealed as her lips seemingly can’t control themselves, a hunger you’ve never expected from Jill. Flavors of malt she's got melting from her tongue, intoxicated saliva that’s mixed with yours and creating a slippery concoction between your lips with every thirsting lick she provokes.

“Need some attention? Am I right?”, the brunette separates from the bliss she had solicited, lips detaching with a wet smack so she can inhale sharply. “I’m much older than you, much”-, she huffs, airily snickering at the sight behold just right beneath her, “much fucking older.” She drags the wriggling muscle out from between her teeth and over her lips, collecting the moisture and spit you had so generously lathered over her. To die like this, it would be divine.

You lay dormant and vulnerable to her control, but she had warned you. Her words were not to be taken lightly, but rather, considered. To give up your innocence for such a filthy, wretched moment like this, Jill knew better. But those eyes of yours had begged, pleaded, were filled with desperation. Whatever she had done, or would do, you wouldn’t lament over it—but rather—savor it.

“I know”, you speak up, balancing the shakiness that wracks you. You’ve wanted a moment like this with her, and you refused to let it slip away from the cracks of your fingers when she was so, so close to granting you everything you’ve wished. “I know you are.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Explains all the staring, that goddamn dress during winter for Christ’s sake, all on purpose, I take it, tryna get my attention”, the silver pendant of her necklace dangles above you, circling as if it’s meant to entrance you. “The hell am I going to do with you?.”

The authority that oozes off her foul tongue is like morphine, an opiate you’ve swallowed, it’s addictive and ruins your common sense completely. Innocent eyes flicker back and forth, your jaw now slack as you can’t focus between the heat swirling in her pupils, or the way her lips taunt you for another taste.

The delicate curve of her nose, like a deity the way she so naturally is, sculpted from the stars as you examine the dorsal bump that sits near the bridge between her eyes, and then arches down to her cupid's bow. You want to pepper kisses all over her, take a risk into her world, trace the fine lines that are embedded into her pale complexion. God, you wanted it, no matter how foolish you would become.

Not able to withstand another teasing comment, you bring your lips to hers with vehemence, your shaky hands drawn over the stretch of her back, nails bundling up fistfuls of blue cotton fervently and with lack of restraint.

“Easy, baby”, the older woman rasps out a discordant laugh as she eases apart from you, “I got it, sweetheart. Let’s take our time, no need to rush anything.”

But the way your fingers are threading up her spine, carding through the syrupy strands of her hair and burying the pads of your fingers into her darkened roots tell her everything. “Please”, you whisper, a whine of desire prolonging from your throat, “take me to bed.”

And who is she to deny such a request? Fallen at your feet from square one.

With groping hands and ragged breaths, Jill has led you to her room and shoved her calloused hands onto the square of your chest, watching you stumble your way backward until your knees wobble, feet losing balance and you surrender your footing. Now draped along her mattress, you’re sprawled amidst her disheveled sheets, unintentionally alluring at the edge of her bed. A present that needed to be unwrapped and reveled in. Undressed and ravaged.

Undoubtedly, the attraction was mutual. Too reticent to meet her eye, fledgling and modest you were, a stark contrast to the indecent and repugnant men that stuck around and partnered alongside Jill in multiple missions. She was abnormally engrossed in you, freshly employed, seeing a sliver of compassion in every beam you presented, how much you were blossoming compared to the others who groaned and wailed.

Of course, your age had been worrisome, and Jill felt guilt course within her at such salacious contemplations. But to have you laid out in this moment, so youthful, so precious, she knew it was alright. She was going to take such good care of you, that was certain, cherish you like no other. And from the way you propped your weight up onto your elbows to wait for her, in her bed—she knew you had waited a while for this too. The glimmering twinkle in your glossy eyes, an unspoken plea from the depths of your soul.

Jill pried your heels off your feet and threw the irrelevant shoes to the floor, long fingertips prodding along the protruding talus bone and further down to the curve of your calf, pulling your leg upward so she could chastely peck along the skin. Give you softness before she fucked you clueless, solicited vulnerable cries from that sweet mouth.

“God, you’re so perfect, sweet thing. Need you to be good and spread your legs for me”, she mumbles amongst unarticulated nibbles to your calf, two strong hands guiding your limbs apart with your permission. You comply, breath hitched in your throat, craning your neck back once she lowers a palm between your two thighs, index and middle finger circling into your sticky panties, meddling with the sodden gusset.

She grunts, your wet cunt fueling her ego. She knew it was worth examining how ruined you already were, but this quick? How precious.

“Fucking hell, you’re needy”, you flush viciously at her jesting observation, squirming so sensitively at the swirls and caresses of sensual friction, every plunge of her trimmed nails into the flimsy fabric were torturous. Panties are humid and tainted from your own very need, and you feel your body is just an ocean of desire, body overflowing with lecherous want.

You wantonly gripe and huff, dress now creased and hiked up to your navel as Jill holds you still and anchored, one hand clamped around your knee securely as the other is buried between your thighs, toying with you. Coaxing those gentle gasps out of you that make her heart swell, fill her with greedy pride.

“Just a couple of kisses, and your panties are already ruined”, she curls a finger into the band and drags the elastic up, the soiled undergarment loose and freed from your glistening labia, before Jill releases, the material slapping back down within mere seconds. Jolting and whimpering, you’re appalled from the igniting slap amongst your sensitive warmth, hips jittering and Jill flashes you a playful smile.

“Half my goddamn age and gettin’ all wet”, she tugs the panties up now, watching the cotton sink into the slick of your pussy, lips curled around the laced seam and cutely puffed out, glistening with your own pronounced arousal. “Pretty girl”, she muses, dark eyebrows creased and wrinkles of concentration forming along her forehead as she gawks at you coming apart, beseeching for mercy with little squeaks and airy sighs. She wonders when you’ll demand pleasure, but such a sweetheart you are, letting Jill have her way with you.

She’s too impatient for this little game, having enough of prolonging your reward of indescribable pleasure and ecstasy. She pushes the damp gusset to the side, a bridge of transparent slick breaking apart from the undergarment once she bares your cunt to her hungry eyes, lengthy fingers spreading your velvety lips apart, her mouth formulating into an impressed “o” at the vision.

“Jill”-, you pipe up with uncertainty, but she hushes you, another kiss she smothers to your calf. “I know”, she hums, “I know”. You feel all warm inside, sickened with endearment by the way she looks at you, clenching around thin air as you imagine how well she’ll fill you. You’re all hers tonight, she knows this.

A veil of brown tresses conceal half her face as she lowers her head to a calculated angle, sharp collarbone and shoulder blades pronounced once she bends closer to your clit. She collects tepid drool off the tip of her pink tongue, and hurls it down onto your turgescent pearl, watching her bubbling saliva sully your pretty little pussy and drip down to your pulsating hole, entrance begging to be split open as you clench once…then twice, and a third time. You shiver at the contrast of temperature, cool slick now warmed by the draw of her thermal spittle, and you attempt to keep your head up to watch with half-lidded eyes, desperate to see the woman you loved.

Despite her foul-mouthed tendency, and inclination for dirty talk, she was slow, and tender. Her hands were rough, marred from training and littered with blemishes and scarring. Though, she was so considerate the way she plopped her thumb along the swell of your clit, textured fingertips rubbing upward against the flesh, flicking the small, and hardened bud with precision that had you moaning brokenly into her pillows. Your nostrils flare, inhaling her musk that’s adorned the sheets, the scent enveloping you, in which you only moan louder.

“Yeah, feeling good, aren’t you. Like my fingers?”

“Mhm!”, you had no words to speak, clasping onto the bedding as she steadily draws circles of pleasure over your enlarging bud. She tests the waters, pointer finger nudging at your dripping entrance, and when you make no sound of denial, she buries herself inside, curling one finger into your cunt. She laughs flippantly as your body instinctively swallows her in, fleshy walls tightening and frenzied, clenching sporadically around her, and she adds another finger slowly, trying best to be careful with you; her precious girl.

“Jill- oh my god”, the sudden stretch of her fingers is surreal, sticky taint gushing from your weeping hole and defiling the pale, boney fingers that split you apart so remarkably, obscene sonorities that climb up the walls and ring into your ears. You were already soaked earlier after the push of her tongue along your teeth, a saturated flower between your shaking legs, luminous and gleaming after a rainfall of dominance the older woman harbored.

But the way she bullies her knuckles inside you, her spit sloven hands smearing her slobber all over your vulva—you've been undeniably ruined, sopping mess that’s smeared to the flesh of your inner thighs and down to the shape of your rear, and you sob.

“Can’t- can’t do it”, your body says otherwise, pleading for more, blood rich and adrenaline coursing through bluish veins like wildfire. Thrust after thrust, and push after push; transforming your mortal chassis into molten nothingness. You’ve surrendered willingly, fallen victim to a certain euphoria that wounds around you, ensnares you into a blanket of submission.

“You can”, Valentine coaxes, more of a demand than suggestion, inspecting you past her webbed eyelashes, “and you will.” Her two fingers are tight against one another, pummeling toward the spongy muscle inside you with a pump of her wrist, arm flexing as she opens you wide to her advantage, folds spread apart to her liking, flapping limply atop the tarnished knuckles that gets forced into your noisy pussy. You’re writhing desperately, an arm flailing down the arch of your stomach to catch her, and you’re teary eyed; two crystals gleaming and threatening fat tears.

You’ve begun to blubber riddles of nonsense, incoherent gasps that can only direct Jill toward one conclusion, and once your hips grind upward to meet the dry surface of her palm, she’s sucking her teeth. You’re close, she smirks in understanding.

“Hm!”, you shake your head, and what else can you say? Disheveled and torn away, once innocent and pure, now fragmented into a vision of a filth from the way you moan symphonies. Dress slithered up just below the cave of your ribs, and a trembling hand clamping down on the wrist that’s trapped between your lifted thighs, you’re the image of a prostitute.

Nonchalant from your intrusive hand desperate to stop her, Jill swats you away and flashes you an expression that reads ‘don’t do that again’, before she’s plunging once more, and your stomach lurches, hitched breath trapped within your esophagus.

“Listen to yourself”, she tantalizes, sultry remarks hissing from the gaps of her pearly whites, and you whimper delicately as you begin to lose yourself in the bliss. It’s only in that moment of fragility that you recognize what she finds so amusing, the squelching of your cunt, juices lewd and sloppy as they flow, and you’re clenching around the older woman’s joints within. Further and further, until the rope breaks, and you’re crumbling into oblivion, battered fingers ushering you into an orgasm of pristine heaven.

Her thumb lulls you from your sequencing spasms, rubbing your used little clit in tender circles as she marvels over such magnificence with blown pupils, still standing at the edge of the bed whilst she listens to the howls of elation that tumble from your cute lips. She’s got to stop herself from hounding you right now, control the erotic sparks that are boiling underneath the constriction of her pants. She did this, and if she didn’t feel so full of herself because of it. Thoroughly smitten with you.

“There you go”, she hushes you with rasping care, observing with worry as your soft hips remain twitching, “you okay?.”

She abandons the mess she made the moment she joins alongside you, crawling to fill the cold space amongst the bed, suckling marks of woo under the slant of your jaw once she’s beside you. Slender, protective arms are snared around your heaving figure, and you’re humming to reassure her, reaching to grasp onto the meat of her biceps for a sense of imploring comfort.

“You did good”, a husky murmur that rumbles from her, reverberates through you as she douses nurturing pecks along the crown of your swarming head, your brain filled with static and fuzz from such an experience. She thinks you’re finished for the night, wasted and frayed—the humble woman she was—figuring she’ll get you cleaned up and call it a night.

The conclusion is omitted, fortunately, from the moment your mouth falls agape, needy muscle thrashing inside and your libido pulsates. You lever her hand that was once caressing your waist, and bring it upon the seat of your bottom lip, peering past your nose at the wrinkled fingertips; pruned and soiled from the liquid you've drenched them in. Your release, glued and preserved amidst the pores of the brunette's skin.

A low sigh of approval erupts from Jill’s chest as you clean the cracks and crevices you’ve dirtied, your beady eyes now sealed tightly as you slurp on the digits hungrily.

“Can’t baby”, she drawls, cunt throbbing and irritated as it stays purchased amongst the seaming of her ripped jeans. “Might be too much for tonight.”

As if you’re adamant on her docility and compliance, you swirl your tongue over her nail beds, the addictive brewery of your cum, globs of spit, and her flesh had all become dewy and sloshed down the walls of your throat. You moan, bobbing your head until you sputter around her, and the two digits sit upon their tongue-like throne beside the swell of your tonsils, leaving you gagging stupidly by the sensations.

Fucks sake, she wants to pummel that honeyed mound into the sheets until you’re ripping her off, tear streaks racing down your cheekbones. You fucking asked for it? You’re gonna get it.

“Want you to feel good”, you gargle, batting your eyelashes, “please?”

Denial dawns heavily upon her for the second time tonight, the fear of mauling your body—her temple of worship—weighing heavy on her racing heart. But the stench of sex disarms her restraint, the prodding canines and writhing tongue deepthroating her fingers merely convincing her. “Wanna feel you”, you whimper, “wanna”- and there’s no more words that need to be said.

Constricting fabric and other layers of clothes are shredded apart within a matter of seconds, now askew and in disorganized piles amongst the older woman’s bedroom floor. She couldn’t care less, peeling off everything she, or you possibly owned, a chest of ample breasts swinging and soft, chocolate moles dotted from her collarbone to the curve of her rising tits. You feel them perk against your own, nipples coupled and stimulating one another. Her robust figure straddles your hips, strengthened thighs not allowing an escape as she wrestles her lips against yours, groaning in low carnality.

The night is crude, bawdy, and daring. Jill Valentine’s apartment molding into a pornographic masterpiece, with licentious kisses exchanged with swollen lips, and entwined legs that brush against one another. She’s slotted herself so perfectly against your cunt, raising her hips so she can grind her clit against yours, and it’s everything she’s wanted. Everything you've wanted. Hymns of pleasure conjoin, and she’s clamping your thighs as she meets you in the center, a sultry look through her hooded eyes. With nails digging crescents into your skin, she huffs out a hissing moan, string of curse words descending before she can communicate properly.

“So close babe, so fucking close”, Jill’s pelvis pushes upward, folds kissing one another and she connects with you like you’re both two puzzle pieces meant for one another. “Gotta wait for me baby, wait for me, okay?”. She’s already said that many times tonight, stilling her scissoring once she spots even a measly scrunch of enjoyment building up on your youthful features. Egging you on just to shatter any shroud of pleasure.

“Wanna fuck this sweet pussy all night”, she grunts, chuckling in mirth at your whines for release, beads of sweat drawn over her temples. “Be patient with me baby, be patient”. And she’s tugging the ropes again, leg drawn over yours as she rubs against you, over and fucking over again, until you’re a ruptured woman, humbled from your own begging.

#bloodcasket #resident evil smut #jill valentine smut #resident evil x reader #jill valentine x you #jill x reader #jill valentine fanfiction #jill valentine x reader #jill fanfic #lesbian

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aurorawritestoescape · 2 months

Text

PERFECT STRANGERS

Pairing: no outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re celebrating Valentine’s Day at a restaurant with your boyfriend and have eyes only for one man. The other man.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, semi-public, f!oral, implied age gap, unprotected piv (wrap it up), double infidelity, pet names ‘little girl’, ‘baby’, a bit of degradation, smoking, alcohol consumption, swearing

Word count: 2,8k

A/n: Happy Valentine’s Day, lovely people! here’s some filth for you💖 hope you’ll enjoy!

Huge thank you to @milla-frenchy for the title 😘

MASTERLIST || PART 2

You noticed him as soon as he entered the restaurant. He was not alone. No one usually goes alone to a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. A waiter led him and a woman he accompanied to their table, and they joined the other couples celebrating their eternal love.

You were not alone, either. Your boyfriend of one year was sitting in front of you. He was complaining about his work like he often did, and being a supportive girlfriend, you offered him a listening ear and all the comforting words. While talking to him, you noticed that if you shifted your gaze a little to the left, you could see the man facing you at his table.

He was handsome, and at first your eyes found him again and again out of simple curiosity and because of your love for looking at beautiful things and people.

You were subtle, stealing glances at the stranger on a rare occasion. Your eyes would take in his hands, lips, and curly locks. You noticed a gold band on his finger, the fullness of his lips, the way he shifted his jaw from time to time while listening to the woman. You were pretty sure it was his wife.

The moment that made it more complicated, and impactful was when your eyes locked. The room wasn’t that big, your tables weren’t that far away, and you two were facing each other, so it was absolutely normal for your gazes to meet at some point. So they met once. Then again. And again. And a few more times. Many more times.

Talking and eating, you sometimes felt his eyes on you, intent yet warm. His gaze would slide over the woman and land on your face, your chest, your partner.

When your eyes locked, your breath would hitch, and you would look at each other for too long. At one point, you got lost in his eyes, drawn to him by a magnetic pull, and when you dropped your head and looked at the pasta on your plate, you felt like something had been said between you two. A greeting. A secret. A wish.

At one point in the evening, the woman left him for the bathroom, and your stomach churned with excitement as you anticipated seeing more of him. You could finally get a full image of his torso, so you were shamelessly ogling his broad chest and

strong shoulders under the confines of his shirt. Then you looked up at his face and saw his gaze on you. He gave you a lopsided smile and took a sip of his wine without breaking eye contact.

“Are you ok?” Your boyfriend asked, having noticed your changed expression—lips parted, eyes blown and widened.

“Ah...yeah,” you replied, quickly averting your eyes from the stranger.

But you weren’t ok. You were tingling, and your stomach was burning with something bright and overwhelming. Something you’d never felt with the man sitting at your table.

You took a deep breath, and the night went on. Stolen glances were still exchanged between the handsome stranger and you, but you tried to stop yourself from looking at him.

It got too much for you when the woman laughed loudly at something the man said, and his devastatingly beautiful smile made your heart beat faster. A surge of jealousy burned your insides, so you cursed under your breath and took your purse, looking for a pack of cigarettes. You had quit a long time ago, but when you felt overwhelmed or anxious, it was a great way to flee from a place, a conversation, or a person. Which you wanted to do at that moment. So you got up and walked to the entrance, trying not to look at him. You failed miserably, as your eyes immediately darted to his face, and you saw him watching you. He ran his hand through his hair, and his expression was pensive and serious.

***

You stepped outside and took a deep breath of night air. You felt your nerves calm down and walked to the corner of the restaurant. It was quiet, as the street was almost deserted that late at night. It was windy, and the skin on your naked legs erupted in goosebumps, so you walked behind the corner of the building and into the alley next to it to hide from the chilling blows.

You cursed when you realised you forgot your lighter in the purse and were contemplating going back, but decided to spend a few minutes there before returning.

You leaned against the wall while the image of the stranger still occupied your mind.

You were standing with an unlit cigarette between your fingers when you heard a voice.

“Hey.”

You snapped your head in that direction and saw him standing at the corner, smoking. The stranger didn’t walk into the alley, didn’t walk closer, apparently not to scare you in that dark, empty street. A myriad of emotions began swarming in your stomach, but fear was not one of them.

“Need a lighter?” He asked, glancing your way from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, thank you,” you replied, clearing your throat. His voice was deep and gruff and so hot that your heart fluttered, and you felt tingling between your legs again.

He slowly walked to you and stopped at arm’s length, not barging into your personal space. When he took a lighter out of the pocket of his blazer, you stepped up to him, raising your cigarette and placing the tip between your lips. You could have lit it yourself, but you wanted him to get closer. He leaned towards you and covered the flame from the wind with his big hand. Your eyes locked again, like many times before that night, but in that moment, it hit you like a freight train. His beautiful, dark eyes with little reflections of the flame pierced your soul and made you stop breathing for a moment. Your gaze lowered to his plush lips, which were slightly pouted, and when you looked up again, you saw him looking at your lips circled around the cigarette.

You took a first drag and stepped back just a little, wanting to stay close to him. He didn’t step away, and you two smoked together in silence until he talked,

“Is it your husband there?”

“No, boyfriend. And you're with your wife.” It wasn’t a question, you were sure of your words by then.

He hummed with a little nod and added with a glint in his eye,

“Does your boyfriend know you love staring at other men?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you quickly collected yourself.

“Does your wife know you hang out with other women in dark alleys?” You quipped, looking up at him with defiance.

He laughed and gave you his gorgeous smile.

“Not any women. Only with the most beautiful one.” Your stomach made a flip when those words left his lips. The way he looked at you was different now. There was dominance, a desire, a need.

“You can’t just keep looking at me that way, little girl,”

He said, throwing away the bud and taking a step towards you. Your cigarette fell out of your hand as you stepped back, feeling the rush of a prey cornered after a chase. But there had been no chase. You were not a prey.

So you stood your ground, and he stepped up to you, so broad and strong, and you bit your lip, feeling the heat of his body warming you up.

“You were staring at me all night as well,” you asserted, looking up at him with your eyebrows raised.

Your heart was booming in your ears. The man smiled, before his hand grasped your hip, and he gently pushed you back.

He wasn't rough, you felt a slight pressure on your side, nudging you towards the wall behind. You complied breathing fast and not breaking eye contact.

In a moment, you felt a cold brick wall against your back, and the man stopped inches from you. The electricity between you two was almost tangible, and the darkness of the night was hiding you from the eye of a rare passerby. Only one streetlight at the corner of the restaurant let you see his handsome features.

“You’re right. I was watching you,” he murmured, bracing his hand on the wall next to your head as his other hand found your waist. “Couldn’t stop staring… pretty little thing.”

It seemed that you forgot how to breathe. Time stopped, and your mind was empty. The only thing that remained in the world was him, the man caging you against the wall in that dark alley.

He was looking down at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips and back up. He was waiting for you to take a leap.

And you took it easily.

You stepped up to him, your bodies flush against each other, and pressed your lips to his.

It seemed like that was all he’d been waiting for. His arms enveloped your torso before he pinned you to the wall.

The kiss was overwhelming and hot. There was nothing sweet about it. He growled into your mouth while his hands began roaming your body. It was like he knew how little time you two had and wanted to touch you everywhere, feel you everywhere.

“Please,” you mewled into his mouth, and he parted from you.

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you need..”

“I want you.”

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl,” he said with a shaky voice, feverishly unbuckling his belt. “Gonna let some stranger fuck you in an alley?”

“Yes,” you moaned, pulling your skirt up with shaky hands.

“Little slut. Let me see you,” he mumbled crouching in front of you and helping you pull your skirt up to your waist. He quickly tugged down your lacy panties, took them off, and looked at your pussy.

He cursed under his breath and opened your folds with his thumbs.

“Did watching me all night make you so wet, naughty girl?”

He wasn’t wrong. Cold air hit your soaked pussy and you shivered. Your clit was pulsating and when he put his mouth on it and began licking and sucking you felt like you were about to come.

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he mumbled against your flesh as you placed your feet apart so his tongue had better access. You were clutching his curls while his fingers were digging into your hips and kneading your ass cheeks. He seemed insatiable, making the flat of his tongue rub your clit, then caressing it with his soft lips.

“I’m…gonna come,” you moaned as he was sucking on your sensitive bud filling the alley with the lewdest slurping noises.

After a few moments, you came, shaking against the wall, your hand gripping his shoulder. He was lapping at your juices until you felt overstimulated, and slightly pushed him away.

He stood up, his scruff glistening with your slick.

“Come here, baby,” he growled, unzipping his jeans. He pulled out his cock, which was hard and throbbing. His warm hands grabbed your thighs, and he lifted you up.

You gasped, wrapped your legs around his waist, and put your arms around his neck. You felt his cock nudge your hole, and he started sinking his tip into you. His member was big, but your pussy was ready to take him after your orgasm so he bottomed out easily and started bouncing you on his cock.

The head was hitting your cervix rhythmically, and you wanted to scream, but the need to be quiet allowed only soft whimpers to leave your lips.

Suddenly, you heard buzzing.

His phone.

To your astonishment, he took it out of his pocket, holding you up with one arm, and, after a deep breath, answered the call.

“Honey, I’m helping this guy out. His car broke down,” he said while his cock was buried deep in your pussy, “No, don’t worry, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

While he was talking to his wife, you slid down the wall a bit, and he pushed you up, making his tip hit your cervix hard. You put your palm over your mouth just before a cry escaped your lips. He winked at you with gratitude and added, “Enjoy your dessert, honey.”

He hung up and mumbled, “I’m definitely enjoying mine.”

His lips immediately crushed into yours, and his hands grasped your ass cheeks as he continued to lift you up and down, using you like a fuck doll.

After a particularly hard thrust, you couldn’t help but moan loudly, and he placed his warm hand over your mouth and continued fucking up into your dripping hole.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he whispered into your ear between panting, “so wet and warm, fuck.. “ His scruffy beard was chafing your cheek, but you didn’t care. You were enjoying yourself too much, being fucked by a complete stranger while your boyfriend was waiting for you. On fucking Valentine’s Day. Despite or because of it, your second climax was building fast in your core.

“Can you come on my cock, little girl?” as if reading your thoughts, he asked you.

“Yeah..,” you murmured, “make me come, please."

“Fuck, I like you, so polite.” His hand left your ass and slithered between your bodies. His thumb quickly found your throbbing clit and he started rubbing it. His cock massaging your soft spot, his expert finger stimulating your clit quickly pushed you over the precipice.

You cried out, and he hastily placed his palm over your mouth, quieting you.

“Shhh, baby, you don’t wanna get caught full of stranger’s cock, do ya?” he chuckled, but you heard in his voice that he was close too.

“Fuck, not gonna last with you chokin’ my dick like that.”

The man hastily pulled out and put you down on your feet. He stepped to the side, pointing the tip of his cock at the wall, and started jerking his shaft while his other hand cupped your pussy. He was spreading your slick over your wet folds and watching them glisten.

Soon he moaned and started shooting the spurts of his cum on the wall. With hazy eyes and parted lips, you were taking in the image of him milking his cock.

When the last drop slid down his tip, he took out a handkerchief and wiped it off.

“Hell, baby, you’re something,” he said with a warm smile, panting heavily.

You two started fixing your clothes, glancing at each other from time to time. After you pulled down your skirt, he picked up your panties off the ground.

“Sorry,” he mumbled with an apologetic smile, and you shrugged, stuffing them into your pocket.

“We should go back,” you said with a touch of sadness in your voice. You wished you could spend the rest of the night with him, but reality was not made out of your dreams.

“You go first, and I’ll follow. Don’t want you to have problems with your guy.”

You nodded, shifting on your feet, and added,

“Hope your wife believed the car story.”

He chuckled and came up to you before taking your face in his hands. Your breath hitched again, and you marvelled at his beautiful features for the hundredth time that night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he murmured, and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

It was short and sweet, and when he parted from you, your eyes locked again, and you whispered back,

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

***

The both of you continued the dinner with your partners. He left before you, and on his way out, he turned his head and gave you a playful wink. You smiled into your wine glass as butterflies were swarming in your stomach. Suddenly you thought that you would probably never see him again, and tears welled up in your eyes.

***

In a cab on your way home, you remembered that your panties were still stuffed in your pocket and wanted to push them deeper when you felt something else there. You took it out and saw a card. You grinned widely, biting your lip with excitement.

There was a name on the card - Joel Miller, and a phone number underneath it.

*****

Thank you for reading!💖

Kisses and hugs for your comments and reblogs!😘🫂

PART 2

Tag list: @missannwinchester @morallyinept @bbyanarchist @harriedandharassed @nervousmumbling

If you’d like to join the tag list, let me know!❤️

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal characters #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #valentine's day #tw infidelity

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rougepancake · 1 year

Text

I can’t stop thinking about Husband!Zhongli who let you believe that we was innocent in bed, only to prove you wrong the longer you were married.

Warnings: 18+, sexually explicit content under cut, mentions of threesome, honestly just Zhongli being wild for you. Gn!Reader, minors and ageless blogs don’t interact.

- Husband!Zhongli who allowed you to “show him the ropes” when it came to being a good lover and tricked you into thinking he was both a god and a virgin.

- Husband!Zhongli who moaned so loudly the first time you made him cum, squirming around in the sheets and gazing at you lustfully.

- Husband!Zhongli who goes absolutely feral when he’s fucking you, not being able to control himself with how incredibly wonderful you make him feel.

- Husband!Zhongli who suggested that you have a threesome with Childe and loved seeing you squirm at the idea.

- Husband!Zhongli who whispers into your ear in a deep voice, “I will have order…” whenever you attempt to disobey him.

- Husband!Zhongli who becomes needy and childlike whenever you return from a long trip, only to fuck you like he hasn’t seen you in years afterwards.

- Husband!Zhongli who lets you ride him, becoming fully submissive to you as you toy with him and mock him like there’s no tomorrow.

- Husband!Zhongli who only ever lets you see him in such a state of desperation, regardless of his vulnerability, it only turns him on more.

#being married to this man would be literal heaven #happy valentine’s day btw #zhongli smut #zhongli x y/n #zhongli x you #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #tartagalia x reader #genshin impact smut #x reader #smut #husband au

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your-local-baguette · 2 months

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Flowers ?...for me ? Thank you!

Genshin impact version

Characters: ga-ming, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Wanderer.

Warnings: not proofread and just fluff

Ga-ming

He scratched the back of his neck when he saw you smile and thank him when he handed you a bouquet of glaze lilies.

This lil man loves you more than anything so of course he'd give you flowers!

He's blushing more than you, your smile just makes him weak in the knees

Xiao

He be red as a tomato while handing you a bouquet of Qingxin flowers.

He's such a sweetheart and lil bud is more embarrassed than you!

It's his first valentine with you and he heard about it he went directly for it.

I feel like he'd give you an adepti charm along with it

Kazuha

Now of course he'd give you flowers, a cute bouquet of dendrobium ( pretend they don't mean what they do ok )

He'd be so casual with it and have a huge smile plastered on his face.

It's not the only thing he planned, but all he wanted to see was your smile.

Venti

Cecilia, his favorite flowers and also yours (if they aren't they pretend they are) he attach a poem to it.

Leave it in front of your door and at the end of the little poem it says to meet him at the tree in windrise.

he is VERY romantic

Wanderer

He definitely go out of his way to get you some padisarah.

He'd give it to you but he wouldn't even be able to look at you, also mumbles something alongs the lines' tsk, it's that big of a deal' while he'd be blushing like hell.

When you thank and him and compliment him he'd click his tongue but be thankful regardless.

He's making efforts!

That's it for genshin, hope you enjoyed, some other valentine stuff might come later this week i'm not too sure.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #xiao x reader #venti x reader #ga-ming x reader #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #Scaramouche x reader #valentines day #happy Valentine's

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transvampireboyfriend · 1 year

Text

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him. They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry. Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

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stevie-petey · 2 months

Text

oh, you didn't know?

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.6k

Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.

Steve has never had the best timing.

When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died.

There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face.

Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”

“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over.

“Oh my god–”

“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”

Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped.

Well fuck.

“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”

You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”

The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit.

He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not.

Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.

So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side.

Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again.

You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out.

After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open.

Steve’s plan was foolproof.

Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend.

However, Steve really should’ve known better.

His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door.

There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.

“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him.

You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”

“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.

“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”

“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”

There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life.

At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place.

A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in.

Then, late January, your birthday came along.

This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.

You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake.

Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly.

Except that isn’t what happened.

What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in.

“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face.

Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”

You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him.

Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck.

He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something.

He’s miserable.

Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks.

You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts.

The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”

Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”

He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind.

“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear.

“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”

This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him.

“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”

Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”

At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”

“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”

Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”

“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along.

God, he is so stupidly in love with you.

He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist.

The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of.

Then, a thought occurs to Steve.

“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”

“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”

Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.

And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss.

Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time.

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #valentines day #enjoyyyyyy <3 #mans just wants a gf #bless him

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