When Harkness becomes friends with someone new, he almost immediately asks what their major is or what course they want to follow with when in university, so he can talk a bit bout his own course and how much praise he gets on his works. He’s not full of himself (maybe a bit), but he wants to show his interest in his studies, so he can eventually find a group of people that also fuck with studying as a hobby or as a hangout, so he can feel motivated. He’s the king of locking in, but just like everyone, he gets tired and needs someone support.
I feel a little predictable for saying this, because it’s literally in the picture I chose, but come on.. he smokes a little. He tried to quit multiple times, but gives in very easily because of stress. But don’t think that means he’s in for anything hardcore. That man wouldn’t touch weed even if his own mother offered it to him. But even tho he smokes not too rarely, you could never guess. He despises the smell the cigarette leaves on him and hates to see his teeth yellowing, so he puts a lot of work in avoiding bad smells and brushes his teeth many times a day, even when he doesn’t smoke - it became a habit.
If you’ve been dating him for a long while, he’s insufferable to be near – he’ll take EVERY. FUCKING. opportunity he gets to tease you or make a little teasing comment, a romantic and/or sexual remark only the two of you get, sometimes in front of other people, but more subtly so. Still, some people might notice the meaning behind his comment and they’ll become extremely awkward. He likes when you join in a lot, and you two will be constantly exchanging jokes every now and then.
Harkness is still a very corny and caring kind of boyfriend tho, he’s commemorating every little event, never forgets anything and always makes sure to give the best gifts. Unfortunately, it became a pride matter too, won’t rest until he knows he’s got THE gift. So he does everything in his power to prevent repetitive gifts and is always writing down small things you say to him on his arm, so when he’s got his notebook with him, he can add it to his list of possible presents.
Will stop everything to write an idea he suddenly has. For example, when asking for his meal in a restaurant, he'll randomly think of something to write an essay about and ask for the waiter to wait for him to write down his idea on the nearest napkin. He always has a pen on him. Will gasp in the middle of his sentences when he thinks of something good.
He introduces himself to most people as "Rich". Nobody calls him that, in the end. No matter how close, his friends will refer to him only as "Harkness" and, occasionally, as "Richie", mostly to tease him. Really, people who don't know him too well are the ones who much more likely call him Rich or Richard.
NSFW
Harkness favorite position is sideways. He wants to make sure he can pay as much attention to you as humanly possible during sex, and when you're laid down on your side, it makes it easy for him to pay attention to your face and most of your bodily reactions. Turns out this is all talk, because when he has good sex he gets too drunk on it to pay actually attention.
Can't handle receiving head, he loves it, but it's never fully ready. The sight is overwhelming and so are the sensations, a hole is one thing, a hole with a tongue is another, having a muscle move around him on demand to tease him drives him mad. And your pretty eyes looking at him make his tip purple from the ungodly amount of blood that pools in it from arousal. Is a bit ashamed to admit it, but really likes having your teeth graze his lenght.
He whimpers and whines, but is, surprising, not loud. His sounds and breathing are so soft, is very fitting to how he treats you. Since Harkness’s usually fucking you sideways, he’ll hold one of your legs over his shoulder and gently caress it, sometimes even massaging your calves. He’ll kiss and suck on your legs while mindlessly mumbling praises and gasping into your leg, all while he quickly and loosely thrusts in you, rolling his hips just how you like it.
Has a lot of cum in him? Like wow. Even after two rounds, Harkness is still going to have a little more cum in him, in case you want to overstimulate him– which he loves. He doesn’t really reads romantic novels or poems, but to him, being overstimulated is a sign that he’s offering all that’s his to you, showing you just how much he longs to bring your bodies together, body and mind. For him, falling in love is a really serious thing, he takes it very seriously and it takes him a lot of closeness for that to happen, so when it does, he finds it very easy to have sex, that is after he’s had his first time of course.
Harkness is all about the feelings when having sex with someone he loves, but when it’s just a hookup, he’ll prefer to be ridden, so he can assume more of a passive position. If he ever hooks up is to relax and get his mind off things, so really wants to be taken care of, but that doesn’t mean he’ll neglect you, he looks forward to share the effort put into fucking. When he’s desperate to unwind, will actively look forward to being choked, really gets off on that blissful blur.
Extra(?): Honestly I headcanon him as trans...in the 70s it would be pretty hard for him to transition but still, I cant get over the thought of what it might be like to scissor with him, if his partner too is the owner of a kitty. When scissoring he would very much be into any position, but he prefers it to sit in front of you, intertwining your legs together so your clits can rub together while you caress and kiss eachother.
Collie is terrified of every animal that flies, and that turned him into a city boy. Don’t get me wrong, he does like nature and cannot stand the thought of closed places without plants in it, but for the love of god don’t let that man cross paths with a bird. He would rather sit naked on a grill than make eye contact with a goose, and all the color from his face can vanish just from hearing the sound of bug wings buzzing.
You can tell that Collie is not a lightweight. He’s got muscles, he’s plump, and he knows it. That doesn’t stop him from resting all his weight on top of you. He does it both to be obnoxious and to catch your attention – he slides his thigh between yours, digs his face in your neck and all that fuzz, but he doesn’t mean to lure you into anything sexual, he just loves closeness.
This particular position makes his waist very exposed tho, so it’s easy to attack the vulnerable spot by poking it. He’ll squirm like he’d just been stabbed and then get off you. Collie will sit on the corner of whatever you’re laying on top of and stare at you with a frown. He’ll take revenge sooner or later.
Collie doesn’t like to go out to eat, specially by himself. He’d rather order it or pick his meal to take home, that way he can eat something he likes in an environment which he doesn’t feel the need to rush. He feels this way because once he worked in a restaurant as a waiter and had to hear constant complaints from people waiting in line for a free table. If he believed in hell, he would think he would go back to it when he dies.
Loves showering. Collie looks all sweaty and nasty during the walk but COMEONNNN look at him, he’s a clean, neat boy. Maybe a bit too clean, in fact, during ideal weather he takes three showers a day and has a whole schedule to take care of his hair. He might be a bit mean about it sometimes. If your hands are greasy after eating something or if you’re just sweaty, he’s not hugging you unless he looks as equally disgusting. But you’re getting a little peck on the cheek.
He either sleeps while looking like roadkill or a log. His boobs are too heavy, his back aches and he needs to sleep in these weird ass positions
NSFW
Speaking of, Collie loves nipple play, would tease you all day if he didn’t love you so much. During cold days, he’ll let his fingertips get cold and tease your nipples by switching between the sensation of his cold fingers and warm mouth.
Collie’s loud in bed, not loud in the sense that he whines, but he growls, groans and huffs a lot. Having the wolfman fuck you wouldn’t be as loud. He tries to be quiet, he swears it, but makes no effort whatsoever to cover his noises when being sucked off or when eating you out. When he’s close he’s panting and huffing like an animal and his hips constantly buck a bit too hard, but he hits the right spots.
Still about eating out, I think he’s super rough with it, and I believe he’s a bit of a munch. As a loud one himself, he gets off on making his partner louder than he is, so he has become a master in eating out, both ass and pussy. Will literally dig his mouth against you while sucking, trying to get the most he can, he’ll grip your thighs and push them down so roughly it leaves marks. He’ll bite your asscheeks and your folds if you’re into that, and has no problem spitting on you as lube.
He loves being able to look at what he’s doing from up close. You want his fingers in you? He’ll lay between your thighs to stay close to your holes so he can watch them intently as he fucks them. But be prepared for some torture when he’s positioned himself like this, he loves giving you what you want but also loves to see how your body reacts and begs. Will tease your perineal and your inner thighs while saying kinky shit and watching your body tremble.
He might be into a bit of submission, but just on occasion. If he did something wrong, he’d gladly apologize by letting you ride him to death.
Collie likes fucking his partners into oblivion because, when he likes someone, they deserve all of his attention, so naturally, he likes positions where he can hit the spot just right. However, he’s also obsessed with being close to you, so he loves missionary and having you sit on his lap.
Tags: Misuse of Legal Jargon, Misrepresentation of Court Proceedings, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Proving Guilt by Oral Sex, Clit Worship
Summary: Thanks to the Instagram algorithm, during your mindless scrolling after work, you find a picture of Finn at least a decade ago and long before you met. Standing in front of a banner proclaiming “I heart Vagina” grinning like an idiot.
Author’s Note: Really just saw that photo while browsing my For You tab on Twitter. Basically like “Sir! This is a Wendy’s!” Then all I could imagine was he probably most definitely loves vagina and would love to show you just how much… enthusiastically.
Inspired by:
Northern weather danced around drunk in Miami, Florida with temperature struggling to reach 60 degrees. Floridians refused to leave their houses. If they did they were bundled up as if they lived on the Klondike. Tourists ran around in t-shirts and shorts basking in the sun.
The door to your high rise condo closed behind you. A full body shiver worked its way through you and you cursed. The curse echoed in your head as you sat your purse down on the entryway table. The cognac tan leather tote – a Christmas present from Finn – softly hit the ground next to the table. The tote filled with your laptop, case files and notes from the office. The plan was to working later on in the evening over a glass of Pinot Noir.
Your tan suede split top ankle booties were kicked off next. In your stocking feet, you made your way into the kitchen where you grabbed a bottle of water. The liquid refreshing as it hit your parched mouth. You stood by the sliding door of the balcony, high above the ground. Perfect view of the Atlantic. The sun already sinking down on the other side of the condo.
The low temps and fading sun chased a lot of the beach goers away though people still sporadically dotted the beach. A particularly daring person fought against the waves; diving through them cresting on the other side before another one built and stalked the shoreline. Probably a crazy northerner whose house was currently buried under multiple inches of snow in a state where the temperature was half your age.
You shivered on principal. You also sent up a prayer thanking God your husband agreed with your philosophy that people aren’t meant to live where the air hurt your face. There was a reason Florida was invented.
In the master bedroom, you shrugged out of the khaki colored blazer; the arms rolled just below the elbow. The lacy v-neck camisole followed along with the black dress pants. Dropping the garments into the hamper, you grabbed a t-shirt; the material soft and threadbare from multiple washes and slipped it over your head. A pair of black joggers followed.
Comfy clothes on, you moved to the kitchen where you made yourself a salad topped with grilled chicken. You hated eating dinner when Finn was gone; couldn’t find the motivation to cook for just yourself. It was a lot of trouble for one person but there was always a tinge of disappointment in Finn’s voice when you told him you hadn’t eaten when he’d call before bed. So you tried to make sure you ate something. Always small and light. Salads mostly. Sometimes cereal which earned her an eye roll.
Hey, Finn needed to learn to take wins where he could get them. You ate. That’s what he wanted. Cereal was on the food pyramid.
Somewhere.
Armed with the bowl of salad and another bottle of water (damn New Year’s resolutions), you sat down on the couch tucked into the corner with your legs beneath you. Ceramic bowl perched on your lap. Cell phone on the arm of the couch. It was now time for the mindless brain rot of scrolling social media. The time where you just let your brain bask in pure unadulterated nonsense.
Tik Tok first then Instagram; liking photos and videos posted from WWE, Netflix, your friends on the roster and the other various accounts you follow. Thanks to the algorithm on Instagram there were plenty of posts in your feed from accounts you didn’t follow. Based on your likes plenty of them were about Finn. Those you didn’t mind. You would never complain about photos of your husband. Fan art, especially the ones depicting Finn as a demon, were your favorites.
You froze as your thumb moved and the next picture came onto your screen. The account wasn’t one you knew but that didn’t matter. There was Finn. Maybe a decade to fifteen years younger. Standing at attention. Arms straight down at his sides. The location was some kind of vender market. Grassy field. Pop up tents. People mingling.
Finn stood proudly in front of one of the venders. Grin as wide as you’d ever seen it. Black Balor Club merchandise shirt. Black sunglasses on his face. The huge vinyl sign behind him proclaimed “I love vagina”. Big bold letters. The love a bright red heart.
He looked so proud of himself with that cheeky grin. Your bark of laughter echoed in the condo. With an eye roll you swiped over to your text messages and sent your husband a message.
You: FINN BALOR!
You: What on EARTH is this!
You attached the photo now saved to your phone and sent it along with the messages.
A response came faster than you expected. A glance at the clock on the wall showed Raw was still a couple hours away.
Finn: In my defense, I was young, dumb and easily amused.
Finn: The picture isn’t wrong.
Finn: I do love vagina.
A smirking emoji was attached. Your face heated thinking of all the times Finn settled between your legs; hands gripping your thighs spreading you open. You pressed your thighs together as you shifted; an ache bloomed in your belly.
You: That’s your defense Mr Balor? The picture isn’t wrong?
Finn: I think it’s a very strong defense.
You laughed and quickly typed back. ‘The court is gonna grant you a recess to come up with a better argument.’
*~*
The door to the apartment opened early the next afternoon. Work was spread out on the kitchen table in front of you. Laptop open. Case file pulled up. Multiple tabs and pages minimized. Email open for the steady influx of correspondence. Legal pad on the table with your notes. File folders opened. Cellphone face up. The screen already dark on the notification that Finn arrived home. The gorgeous Florida day offering up a backdrop behind you.
Tuesdays were usually your considered work-from-home day depending on Finn’s travel and when he arrived home. The thought of being stuck at the office knowing he was home was too much for you. Being home when he walked through the door after traveling was a must.
He was dressed in black joggers and a black zip up hoodie over a white t-shirt. A ridiculous bucket hat sat on his head. His grin was cheeky, just as you imagined it last night during your conversation. He left his suitcase and carry on by the door and hung the hat off the handle.
“I’m ready to present my case, Your Honor.”
You dropped your pen to the legal pad and gave him your full attention. The Irish lilt in his voice doing absolutely nothing to your insides. A white lie, but hey, you weren’t under oath. “The court isn’t taking oral arguments at this time.”
The grin on Finn’s grew impossibly wider.
And maybe a little more devious.
Warmth started to bloom low in your belly.
“I think the court will be personally interested in this oral argument.”
The way the word oral danced off his tongue caused the warmth to travel up your spine. You felt the heat as your cheeks flushed. You crossed your arms as you sat back in the chair. Your legs crossed as your thighs clenched. Your eyebrow cocked. A stern expression on your face though you could feel your lips twitching as a smile fought to emerge. “Oh really Counselor?”
“Permission to approach?” Finn was already moving before he finished asking. The smile turned down a couple notches but no less potent. An ache unfurled between your legs.
“Permission granted…” your voice came out husky. Your eyes tracking his movements as he unzipped the hoodie and removed it tossing it over the back of an empty chair. The air thickened around you.
Finn lifted his right hand - the one with your name obnoxiously tattooed over the back – and cupped your face. The rough calloused palm from years of ring work and lifting was a familiar touch. Instantly grounding. You leaned into the touch as he tilted your head up.
The kiss was soft at first. Lips moving together in a dance you’ve perfected for years. Your arms loosened across your body as your posture melted. He always had the ability to unravel you with a simple touch. Your fingers gripped his t-shirt hanging loosely from his body in his bent position.
He swallowed your gasp as he deepened the kiss and pulled you from the chair. Your hands fisted tighter in his shirt trusting him completely to lead you wherever he wanted. You’d follow him anywhere.
Your legs hit the couch and Finn eased you down until you were lying on the chaise portion. A moan escaped when the kiss broke and you chased his lips.
Finn chuckled as he knelt on the floor in front of you. His knees digging into the area rug you spent hours debating over at the store before finally deciding this was the perfect one. Those calloused hands moved up your legs over the soft skin you spent hours prepping last night. In hope…
The skin on your arms prickled at the sensation. Your pussy clenched and you could already feel the growing dampness on your panties. It took very little for this man to turn you on.
His hands hooked the waistband of your linen shorts and the panties beneath them. With a tug you were lifting your hips and Finn was pulling them down your legs and off. He dropped them on the floor. Forgotten.
His hands traced the smooth skin of your thighs again and you shifted; legs parting to reveal yourself to him.
Finn groaned at the sight. His body thrummed with pleasure. Muscles coiled tight. His cock thickened inside his joggers growing heavy. His mouth watered at the meal before him. He hooked his arms around your legs and pulled you closer to the edge. Your legs parted further to make room for his shoulders.
“I’d like to introduce exhibit A to the court…” Finn’s Irish accent was thick; a sign of how turned on he was.
He trailed a finger down the outside of your puffy lips. Your clit already swollen and peaking from the hood. You were already glistening. Body preparing itself for him.
You opened your mouth to respond when you felt his hot breath at your center. Then your brain blanked as his mouth found you.
Your fingers gripped the cushion beneath you as Finn’s tongue took a slow deliberate swipe up through your pussy. A full body shiver encompassed you. From your entrance to your clit his tongue tasted everything you offered.
He teased you. Short little strokes. Circling around your clit never quite giving it the attention you so desperately craved. Even with your hips moving, searching for his tongue to hit the target… he thwarted every single jerk.
When his tongue entered you, you threaded your fingers through his hair. The short locks buttery soft free of product. “Finn…” his name left your lips with a breathy gasp. Your eyes screwed shut.
Finn moaned in response. His fingers pressed against your thighs. His hold firm keeping you in place. His tongue delving deep inside your clenching channel tasting every inch of you.
He feasted buried between your legs. His tongue deep inside you. His nose against your clit. His tongue gathering up every bit of you directly from the source. When he pulled his tongue free, his beard was soaked. He wrapped his hands around your thighs holding you in place; halting your movements. Lifting his head he stared at you – wide open and on display. Your pussy coated with a mixture of his saliva and your excitement.
You quivered under his perusal. Pussy clenching. You struggled against his hold. Trying to thrust up to his face. “Finn… please…”
“Love how you get so wet for me,” Finn murmured. He lowered his head and dove back in. His tongue working up your center again. He moaned as your taste burst in his tongue. A growl formed in the back of his throat as he gripped your thighs tighter and yanked you closer to him.
He licked with broad strokes. Up to your clit with more teasing nudges and down to your entrance where he dipped inside once more.
Counselor seems to be wasting the court’s time…” There was a hitch in your words. Your fingers relaxed against the cushion. You lifted a hand and let your finger tips lightly caress over your belly.
Finn chuckled against you. The vibration caused your hips to jolt in his hold. He lifted his eyes to stare up your body and met yours while his tongue still languidly licked. “Just want to make sure I’ve properly prepped the witness…” he pulled away just enough to brush his lips against your thigh in a soft kiss.
The dampness of his beard left a mark on your skin to air dry.
“The witness has been prepped…” your hand met his where it held your thigh. Over the back of his hand and over the warm metallic of his wedding band. Your fingers drifted across his temple and into his hair. Holding firmly not pulling. “Please Finn…”
A wicked gleam brightened Finn’s blue eyes. “Yes ma’am…”
You gasped loudly as his mouth found your clit. You tossed your head back chin toward the ceiling; eyes clenched. Lips parted. Breath caught somewhere in your throat. He sucked gently on the sensitive bud.
Finn moaned, his own eyes fluttering shut. Gone was the teasing. He drove in with purpose now. His tongue licking fast strikes on your clit. His hands tightened their grip on your thighs trying to hold you still. Your back bowed off the bed as you moaned pressing your pussy further in this mouth.
“Finn…” your fingers tightened in his hair. Your arms and legs tingled. Heat built in your belly. “Oh God…” your free hand reached for something to hold on to. Sometimes in the bedroom it would be a pillow and you’d hold it over your face in an attempt to stifle your moans before Finn would yank it away wanting to hear every single sound he drew from you.
Your body hummed with pleasure as Finn’s targeted your clit with precision strikes; nudging the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. Gasps and moans fell from your lips as you writhed on the couch. The t-shirt you still wore twisted and pulled across your body. Your hips rocked into his mouth.
A whine broke free and you bit your bottom lip.
“An objection?” Finn’s voice was low and rough thick with arousal as he spoke against your swollen cunt. He circled your entrance sending his tongue deep inside you once more drinking up everything you gave him. He moaned feeling you clench around him.
“Finn… please…” you couldn’t think of a proper response. Your brain full of continuing misfires. Everything boiled down to Finn’s tongue and the raging inferno deep in your belly. The fuse lit and traveling fast.
The sound of your wetness hit your ears along with the licking and lapping of Finn’s tongue. The sucking. Your hips were immobile; locked down by Finn’s grip. Another whine filled the room but this time Finn didn’t say a word. Just continued his assault on your clit. The strokes fast and quick. Lapping over the swollen bud. Wet and lewd sounds filled the condo.
Finn’s hands shifted on your thighs and you were able to jerk against his face. His beard scratched the sensitive skin of your inner thighs causing a thousand tiny zingers to shoot down your legs. Your toes curled and you dropped your knees a little more opening your self up even further.
A cry was ripped from your mouth as his tongue licked and sucked your over exposed clit. Heat coiled tighter and tighter. For a suspended breath you hovered in the air. Sound disappeared. You were floating.
Then you were crashing.
With a loud cry you were coming. Your thighs clenched around Finn’s head trapping him against your pussy. He growled and doubled his efforts like a starving animal discovering food. Your hand twisted in his hair yanking him harder into you as your hips jerked and gyrated on his face.
Your pussy gushed. Your slick coated Finn’s beard as he lapped up everything he could. His cock hard in his joggers. The position didn’t allow him to press against the couch for relief. The tip weeped bleeding into the insides of his briefs. He growled when you tried to scoot away. His hands tightened on your hips keeping you in place. He wasn’t done feasting.
Finn’s tongue softened. His licks slowed drawing your orgasm out. Each swipe to your clit caused your hips to jerk and you to moan. Your body trembled and twitched. Your breaths came out in gasps as you drew oxygen into your taxed lungs. Your chest heaved as if you’d just ran a mile. Somewhere in your orgasmic haze you must have stopped breathing.
“Finn…” you moaned as your fingers tightened in his hair and nudged him away from your pulsing clit. The touch too much.
With a kiss to your mound, Finn lifted his head. Blue eyes twinkling even though they were heavy with desire. Your essence covered his lips and beard. His grin was cocky. “Defense rests Your Honor.”
With your body still trembling with aftershocks, you tightened your fingers in his hair and tugged drawing him up. The kiss was deep and filthy. Your tongue sweeping inside Finn’s mouth tasting yourself. Your hands clutched his shoulders as your legs wrapped around his waist.
The kiss broke with a soft brush of your lips against his. A teasing swipe of your tongue over his lips. “The court is not satisfied…” you rocked your hips up. Your breath escaped through your lips in a hiss as his hard cock ground against your center. Sensitive. Still pulsing. Still greedy. Cunt clenching ready to be filled. To be stretched. “The defense still has not met the burden of proof…”
The grin Finn gave could only be described as feral. A dark hungry glint filled his eyes making them go dark and stormy. Lust weighed heavily in them. “Oh really?” His mouth tilted in a crocked predatory smirk “The defense is more than prepared to satisfy the court.”
Then he rocked his hips. His hard cock nudged your swollen center. It was hot and insistent even through the layers of clothing. Your heels dug into his ass pressing him closer. Your hands scrambled with his t-shirt ripping it over his head until his chest was on display. The sculpted shoulders and pecs. The dips and ridges of his abs and hips that disappeared into the waistband of his joggers. Finn spent years working on his body. Hours in the gym. Discipline in the kitchen.
The whole ‘body is a temple’ or whatever.
You spent years worshiping it.
“You have any more exhibits to present?” Your voice was breathy as Finn continued to rock against you. Your hands clutched his shoulders. The skin warm.
“Just one… exhibit D…”
Finn snapped his hips forward. His hard length pressed deliciously against your clit. You groaned and your eyes closed as you tossed your head back. “Please… continue…”
Summary: Your neighbor just can't get enough of you.
Warnings: age gap, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), creampies
A/N: FINALLY FINISHED BESTIEEEEEEE 🤪🤪 as always may contain grammatical and spelling errors. i am dyslexic and in way could i proofreading this completely 😭 sorry in advance 🫶🏽 i hope you like it!!! comments, requests, and general feedback is always welcome!!! think about making a taglist too let me know if you'd be interested and ill make a post!! ANYWAYS ENOUGH TALKING ENJOYING MWAH 💋
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
You were outside in your front yard looking through your mail. It was early in the morning so you were just outside in your moomoo, some slippers and your bonnet. You didn't think anyone would be out this early but you were proven wrong when a very familiar car horn went off behind you.
"Do not start with me this morning Cody." You said turning around with your arms folded across your chest
Your neighbor, Cody, rolled his passenger side window down and leaned over, smiling at you brightly.
"Good morning pretty lady." He smiled "Come over here for a minute and let me talk to you."
"Boy what did I say about bothering me?" You rolled your eyes fighting the smile trying to form on your face
"Aht don't do that." He said pointing a finger at you. "If I was bothering you, you would have cussed me out like you did old man Sammy from around the corner."
You laughed and shook your head as you walked over to his car. He wasn't wrong though. When you first moved into the neighborhood you thought old man Sammy was a sweet man until he started to try and get into your pants. Just nasty and old. He was well in his seventies you would think he knew how to treat a lady.
"What do you want Cody?" You smiled softly leaning over and into his car window
"Just wanted to see your pretty face up close this morning." He said raising a hand grab your chin in his fingers
You kissed your teeth and swatted his hand away from your face. He always does this. From the very first day you moved in Cody has been teasing you and playing these little flirting games with you. It's how the friendship between you formed. Now here you are, in the neighborhood for almost two years now and Cody still flirts with you like he did day one. You hate to admit it but it is the highlight of your day.
"Bye Cody." You smiled
"Nooooo," he said reaching over and grabbing your wrist. "I called you over for a reason."
"Which was?"
"Remember when you needed to use my washer and dryer?"
It was a about a week ago. Your washer and dryer hook up went out and you had about two weeks worth of dirty clothes you been neglecting that needed to be washed immediately. You called Cody and basically cried about it because who knew fixing a damn washer and dryer unit was that expensive. Cody told you to just come over and use his like it was obviously the only option for you and he even paid to get your unit fixed. He said consider it him paying you back for getting your brothers to fix his transmission
for free. You wanted to protest and say it was fine and that you could just go washing in the city but he came over and carried your clothes across the street to his house and already made the call to the repair man.
"Yeah I remember why?" you asked eyebrow raised
"You left some stuff behind." he said
Your face went hot in embarrassment. "Oh my God, Codes I am so sorry."
Cody raised a hand and waved you off. "No big deal it's only a few things. I gotta go to the office but when I get back I can drop them off? I get home around eleven tonight."
You leaned into car a little farther so you could grab his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his. "Why you staying in the office so late? Is everything okay?"
Cody brought your hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. "Nothing you need to worry your beautiful head about. I'll be over later okay?"
"Alright." you sighed letting go of his hands and standing up right. "Don't overwork yourself now." you said pointing a finger at him now
"If I overwork myself you gone take care of me?" He teased
"Don't I always." You rolled your eyes
"You always got me baby." he smiled triumphedly "Now go on and get back in the house. You know this is when Sammy does his walk."
"Shit." you cursed before turing around, hurriedly grabbing your mail and running in the house.
You spent the next few hours going about your business and making dinner. You made sure to cook enough for Cody because you know on days where he is in the office late he definitely neglecting eating. You didn't make nothing too spectacular, just some baked chicken, cabbage, mash potatoes, mac and cheese and cornbread. You made it before and Cody loved it. Cody works hard and does so much for the community. It pains you a bit that he doesn't have someone to take care of him the way he takes care of others. That's why you make sure you return the favor to your neighbor whenever you can.
It was a little after eleven when you saw headlights shine through your window. You were laid out on the couch and didn't bother getting up since you let Cody know the front door was open for him an hour ago. You sat up as you heard the front door open and close softly. It took a few moments for Cody to walk down the entry way and into the living room. He held a small bag in one hand and his briefcase in another.
"You look whooped." You smiled sadly taking in the man in front of you
"Was a long day babes." He sighed walking over to you.
You stood up and grabbed his briefcase out of his hand and laid it on your coffee table. Cody placed the bag of what you assumed were your clothes right next to his case before taking your hand in his.
"Please tell me you got something to drink." He sighed smiling at you softly
"How about some dinner and a drink hmm? I cooked your favorite." You smiled, thumb rubbing circles on the back of his hand gently
"Have I ever told you, you are the best?" He cheesed
"Maybe once or twice." You chuckled letting go of his hand to reach up to his suit jacket and unbutton it for him. He let his hands fall down to his side and you pushed his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms. You took his jacket and laid it over the back of the couch before grabbing his hand and leading him to your kitchen. You made him sit at the island while you warmed his plate up in the microwave. While his food was heating up you grabbed a chilled glass out of your refrigerator and your glass of bourbon you keep just for him. You placed a sphere of ice in the glass and pour him a generous amount before going back to the microwave and grabbing his food. You placed the plate and drink in front of him and he thanked you softly before digging into the food.
The two of you chatted about your day a little bit as he ate. You even pour a glass for yourself to enjoy with him. After a while the two of you made your way back into the living room. You knew Cody needed company right now so you weren't in a rush to see him off, plus you missed hanging with him. You two haven't been able to sit like this for a while due to work and just life.
Cody unbuttoned his waistcoat and plopped down on your couch with a sigh. He brought his arms up to rest on the back of your couch, face flushed a sign the alcohol is running through his system, and legs spread open.
"C'mere pretty girl." he said tilting his head motioning you to come his way
You walked over to him, a noticeable sway in your walk from the way the alcohol was affecting you. Cody watched you cross the small area, eyes hooded and heavy. You stood in front of him and he tilted his head back to look up at you, licking his lips.
"Why you looking at me like that?" you blushed
"Because you're beautiful." he said matter of factly. "Why you still single pretty girl?"
You sighed stepped in between his legs.
You don't know when or how it came about but Cody and you always toed a very thin line. Your other neighbors already assumed the two of you were dating. Some of the teenage girls would even go as far as saying you two went together real real bad. But in all honesty the two of you were just friends, just neighbors. But the air tonight, it's something different in it.
"Never found someone worthy of being with me."
Cody sat up in the couch arms dropping from their spot on the couch. "How does one prove their worth to you then hm?" He asked as he placed a gentle hand on your hip
"By letting me use their washer and dryer."
Cody raised an eyebrow with a sly smirk on his face. "Is that right?"
You nodded your head bringing you bottom lip in between your teeth.
"And what else?" He asked using that gentle hand on your hip to guide you into his lap. You allow yourself to climb into his lap, legs straddling him. "Tell me."
"Cody." You warned feeling like lines are going to be crossed
"Come on pretty girl." Cody said bringing a hand up to your cheek, cupping it softly. "What else do you need from me to be worthy? I will do it."
"Just kiss me."
And he did. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours gently as if he was still testing to make sure it was okay. You sighed softly against his lips and brought your arms up and around his neck taking the liberty to deepen the kiss. Cody wrapped his free arm around your waist pulling you closer to his body, his thumb rubbing your cheek softly.
Cody groaned into your mouth as he shifted down on the couch, his erection pressing up against your throbbing heat causing you to gasp against his lips. Cody detached his lips from yours and began to kiss along your jaw as he dropped his hand from your face to grab you by the waist. His kisses trailed from your jaw and down to your now exposed shoulder from your moomoo falling slightly. You tilted your head to the side to allow the man to kiss along your shoulder and latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin as his hands on your waist began to move your hips back and forth on his hard on.
You bit your bottom lip in between your teeth as you placed your hands on his shoulders to ground yourself as you let yourself sink into the pleasure of your neighbor kissing on your neck and grinding your wet pussy against his slacks.
Cody pulled away from your neck and looked up at you in his lap, eyes are dark and stormy blue, laced with lust and hunger as he continued to move your hips just the way he like against him. He watched the faces you made as you began to soak through your panties, trying to etch them into his memory forever.
He dropped a hand in between you and him, "Don't stop." he said noticing your hips still when he stopped moving them for you.
You nodded your head in obedience and began to grind against him again, soft whimpers falling off your tongue as Cody reached for the bottom of your night gown and pulled it up and brought it to your mouth. You opened your mouth and allowed him to push the satin fabric into your mouth. Cody leaned back against the couch with a quiet "fuck" escaping from his mouth ad he watched your soaking wet panties sliding against his front with ease. A dark spot formed on his pants as you continued to please yourself in his lap.
"Cody." you moaned, letting the fabric drop from you mouth as you threw your head back
"I'm here baby." he replied placing his hands back on your waist
"Cody please?" you whined
"Tell me," Cody said stilling your hips. "tell me what you want from me."
"I need you Cody," you stated "I need you so bad."
Cody rested his forehead against yours. "You already have me."
"Then fuck me like it."
Cody wrapped his arms around tour waist tight once more as he stood up off the couch with you in his arms. He carried you up the stairs and into your bedroom. He sat you om the foot of the bed gently, capturing your lips in his, kissing you gently as his hands worked your moomoo up and over your head causing the kiss to break.
You sat there looking up at Cody in nothing but your dripping panties. Cody looked down at you, chest rising and falling quickly as he undid his cufflinks and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off and letting it hit the floor. Cody spread your legs open as he dropped to his knees in between them. His hands hooked on the waistband of your panties and you raised up off the bed just enough for him to slip them down and off.
Cody grabbed you right ankle and put it over his shoulder. He pressed soft kisses along your calf, on your knee and up your thigh. As he got closer and closer to your aching pussy, the two of you maintained eye contact as your breath picked up.
Cody's face was right in front of your pussy. His breath could be felt against your wetness causing a shiver to run through your body. Cody pressed a soft kiss on your lips causing you to jolt under the contact. Cody chuckled softly before taking his tongue and pressing it flat against your pussy. You moaned and let a hand get tangled into his hair. Cody moaned as he began to lick on your pussy, his tongue wiggling it's way in between you fat outer lips. You gasped as his tongue hit your clit. You fell back onto the bed as Cody spread your lips with his fingers and letting his tongue flick against your clit. You let out a loud series of moans and his tongue swirled around your clit. Cody hummed as he took your clit in his mouth, sucking on the bundle of nerve as his free hand dropped down and worked on unbuttoning his slacks. Cody unzipped himself free, pulling his erection free from his boxers as it began to leak all over himself.
You laid on the bed, eyes closed and back arched as Cody continued to lap at your pussy until his face was covered in your juices. Cody pulled away from your pussy and pressed a kiss on your thigh before dropping your leg from his shoulder allowing you to take a moment to collect your breath as he stood up and stripped out of the remainder of his clothes.
You laid on the bed with knees bent and legs spread wide open, tiddies in your hand, playing with your nipples as you watched Cody take his precum and use it as lube as he rubbed his erection. Cody dropped his dick from his hands to grab you by the thighs so you were back at the edge of the bed. He lined himself up at your entrance and grabbed his dick and tapping his tip on your pussy, groaning at the strings of wetness that attached to his dick from your dripping pussy.
Cody aligned his tip at your entrance and gave you a look asking for permission. You bit you lip and reached down in between your legs, grabbing his erection and guiding him inside you. You gasped and he groaned as he entered your heat. Cody placed a hand up by your head as he leaned down to press your lips against his. Your arms wrapped around him as he bottomed out inside you. His hips stilled for a moment to allow you to adjust to his length.
You began to move your hips, fucking yourself up on him. Cody took that as a sign to start moving his hips.
"Fuck." he moaned as he pulled his hips back all the way until it was just the tip in you before snapping his hips roughly
You choked on a moan as Cody continued to pull almost all the way out and slam back into your pussy.
"Fuck Cody," you moaned "feels so fucking good."
"Yeah? You like how I fuck you?" he questioned thrusting in and out of you faster. "Do you know how long I been wanting you underneath me? How long I had to play good neighbor when all I wanted was to see you take me?" he all but growled against your lips as he placed a hand on your neck, not squeezing it or applying any pressure, just as a reminder, an anchor of sorts to the both of you. "And God do you take me so fucking good baby, look at how you got my dick all creamy."
You moaned at his words as he pounded into your pussy. You knew you were making a mess on his dick, you felt yourself leaking onto the bed but you just couldn't bring yourself to care as Cody brought his hand down on your pussy to run circles on your clit as he fucked your pussy.
"Cody, Cody, Cody," you parted as if his name was a mantra. "Cody please I am so close."
Cody capture your lips in his again as he fucked into you harder. The sound of your wet pussy being fucked in and out filled the room. Moans from the both of you began to get louder and louder as you approached your climax. Cody hissed as you clinched around him.
"I'm gonna cum." you warned
"Cum for me." he said against your lips. "Cum for me baby."
You nodded your head as the knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter. You let out a small yelp as you wrapped your legs around Cody's waist.
"Cody!" you exclaimed "Fucking shit." you gasped as your legs began to shake and your body jolted as your orgasm came crashing down over you.
"Good fucking girl." Cody praised as he fucked into you faster and harder chasing his own orgasm
"Fuck." he groaned, throwing his head into the crock of your neck. You wrapped an arm around his head as he dug his fingers into your waist as he grunted and moaned as his cum began to flow out of him and into your pussy.
Cody continued to fuck into you until his hips slowed and he just laid on top of you. He pressed soft kisses on your neck, nipping at your skin gently causing you to giggle softly as your fingers ran up and down his back.
The two of you laid there taking in the moment and each other before Cody pulled his face out of your neck and pressed a soft and deep kiss on your lips.
"Does this mean we can tell the girls we go together for real now?" he chuckled as he pulled out of you and laid down next to you
"Oh yeah." you giggled. "Tell them we go together real bad now."
~summary: winning in your hometown is huge, when your boyfriend ditches you, you find comfort in someone else
~word count: 1.2k
~tags/warnings: cody rhodes x reader, smut, p n v, oral (f receiving), drinking, cheating
~credit: all pictures from pinterest & header by me
(not entirely proofread.)
please tell me what you think! constructive criticism welcome!!
——————————————————————————
still buzzing off your hometown win against your rival, chelsea green, you walk backstage, number of people congratulate you on your match. as you are about to reach your locker room, you see a familiar face. cody rhodes. you’ve known him for years. never really close, but you guys aren’t strangers.
“good match. crowd loved you.” he said low, but warm, “smart reversal on the i’m prettier, i even think chelsea was shocked.”
“yeah i didn’t know how’d it work out.” you laughed a little.
“you’re family’s here right? what are you guys doing after?”
“it’s just my mama and my sister. so probably not much.” you brushed it off like it wasn’t a big deal.
“after you get done talking to them, come by the bus. celebrate the win with some drinks.” he suggested in that same low tone. like he was keeping it a secret.
“okay, yeah. i definitely need a drink after that. let me change and find them. give me twenty?”
“yeah for sure!” he smiled warmly before patting you on the back as he was walking away.
——————————————————————————
the low hum of the bus engine and the liquor filled the space between you. you sat on one side curled up on the sofa with a blanket draped over you. with the glass in your hand, starting to feel the effects of it running through your body. you don’t remember exactly how the conversation started all you remember is getting to this point.
“he didn’t even show up tonight. said he had plans already. like you see me once a month and you want to hang out with your friends? it’s just aggravating, you know?” you said in a huff, slightly slurring your words together “it’s gotten to the point where i told him, i can’t have sex because of training, im not even interested in it anymore.”
cody leaned forward slightly, sitting his glass down on the small table next to him, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on you, listening with quiet interest.
“and i definitely shouldn’t be say this, i blame the liquor,” speaking way before your brain threw out a red flag, “but id have sex with you.”
the silence lingered. your words lingered. running through his head again and again. he just looked at you to see if you are really serious. he knows you’ve only had two drinks, he knows your buzzed at best.
he finds his eyes glancing down at your lips. you don’t know who leans in first, but some way or another, your lips end up on his. slow, deep and deliberate. the blanket that was covering your legs now in the floor, you straddling him. one hand on the side of your face and the other on your hip. all the tension that had settled, was now gone. the kiss turned more heated.
buzz buzz buzz
you pull back, pulling your phone out of your pocket. before you could even decline it, cody speaks.
“your boyfriend just knows how to kill everything?”
before you could even answer him, he grabs the phone and answers it.
“she’s a little busy. oh and she can definitely have sex while she’s training.”
he hangs up and throwing my phone on the other end of the sofa. he looks at you with a small glint in his eye, you can’t quite name.
“if you wanna leave you can. i don’t wanna force you into crossing any lines.” he murmured, voice slow and intentional, drawing his thumb against your cheek.
you just kissed him, hard. his grip on your hip tightened. he stands up, holding you up flush against him, heading straight for the bed. he sits you down on the edge, just long enough before he reconnects your lips.
your hands worked on untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders. he breaks the kiss and grab it and throw somewhere in the room, leaning forward to pull up your hoodie.
he starts by kissing down your neck, then down between your breast. sliding his hand to unclasp your bra.
“cody… please i need you.” you whined. you felt like your body was on fire.
“okay baby just a second.”
he leans up on his knees, starting to take his pants off, you follow in suit. sliding your shorts and panties down your legs, throwing them off to the side. cody finally gets rid of his pants, leaving him in his boxers.
your hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him back down. the kiss turns sloppy fast, all you feel is his weight on you. his back flexing while his grabbing your hips. how hard he is through his boxers, pressing straight onto your clit.
you buck your hips up, rolling into his.
“cody please”
he starts to move back kissing down your body again.
“baby can i taste you first?”
before you could answer, your thighs are over his shoulders and he’s kissing your inner thigh. you feel a warm stripe being licked right between your folds. his nose hitting your clit, with each lick. he moves to suck on your clit.
“oh-cody”
he keeps sucking, occasionally bitting just a little bit. he then inserts a finger, matching the pace with his tongue. your hips buck, grinding onto his face. your hear him groan. full on groan. that sets your stomach on fire, you are so close.
“cody, please, i’m close.”
“come on angel, make a mess on my face.” he mumbles.
all it takes is him adding another finger, for you to cum. he guides you through, trying to prolong your pleasure. after your breathing slows down, he raises up, kissing you instantly. you moan at your taste.
his hand slides down to take his boxers off. taking his dick and sliding it through your folds, gathering some of the wetness, as he slides into you.
“ohmygosh- you’re so big” you mewl out, breaking the kiss.
“come on baby, you’re doing so well. she’s taking me so well.”
you look down and he’s not even all the way in. he’s slowing rolling his hips, slowing sliding all the way in you.
“there we go, angel. i’m all in. she’s taking me so well. made for me, yeah?”
all you could do is moan. rolling your hips to meet his. he picks up the pace, ramming into you at a pace making your eyes roll.
his fingers find your clit, rubbing circles around the sensitive bud.
with each snap of his hips, he getting closer and closer to the edge.
“baby you feel so good.”
“cody, im close.”
“squeezing me so good. come on, cum. let me have it.”
with one last snap of his hips, your body tenses up and your breath hitches. as soon as he feels you letting go around him, he buries himself at the hilt and cums, stilling rubbing circles on your clit.
“you did so good for me baby.”
all you good do is groan into him. pulling him down kissing him once more. he breaks away and moves off of you and disappears. few minutes later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, cleaning you up and grabbing you one of his shirts, helping you put it on.
“thank you for helping me make my hometown win unforgettable.”
“of course, you deserve to feel wanted.” he replies throwing on a pair of shorts
he gets back into bed, throwing the covers over top of the two of you, pulling you into his chest.
Omg I just saw the recent post about Austin’s long hair and I so need a fix about the reader tangling her hand in his hair at every chance she gets 🫠. Like on a date, sex, even on a sofa???
Word Count: 2.6k
Masterlist
You have absolutely no chill about his hair, and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to pretend otherwise.
It doesn’t start in a dramatic way. There’s no big moment where you clock it and think, ah yes, this is my personality now. It starts with a glance — a passing look in the hallway mirror as you’re walking by — and there he is behind you, bent over tying his shoes, completely minding his own business.
His hair, unfortunately, is not.
The sides are starting to misbehave around his ears, the back brushing his collar in a way that feels like a direct provocation. It’s not long-long. It’s just… enough.
Enough that it never quite sits right.
Enough that it always looks like he’s just run his hands through it.
Enough that you want to be the one doing it.
You slow down. He doesn’t look up, still focused on the laces, but you can tell he knows. He always knows. It’s in the pause, that tiny, resigned stillness that says he’s already accepted his fate.
You step in behind him and slide your hand into his hair at the back of his head.
Yep. That’s the stuff.
Your fingers sink into the thicker part at the nape, soft in a way that feels deeply unfair given how little effort he puts into it. His shoulders drop.
His eyes close for half a second. “Babe.”
You don’t stop. “What?”
He exhales through his nose, already smiling. “Never mind.”
You lean down, press a kiss to the top of his head, leaving your hand exactly where it is, like it’s claimed squatter’s rights. “I’m just saying hello.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s not my fault,” you add, dragging your fingers lightly through it, “that you’re currently walking around with the most touchable hair I’ve ever seen.”
He finally looks up at you, eyebrows raised. “Currently?”
You give him an innocent shrug. “You know. Because you’re growing it out.”
He rolls his eyes like this conversation hasn’t already happened a dozen times. “For work.”
“I know.”
“For a role.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still acting like this is a personal gift.”
You tilt your head, considering. “Is it not?”
He laughs, quick and helpless, and finishes tying his shoes. When he stands, you stay close, your hand still very much in his hair. He doesn’t move away. If anything, he angles slightly, like he’s making sure you’ve got a good grip before he reaches for his jacket.
“You’re obsessed,” he says, like it’s a complaint.
It’s not. Not really. The way he says it is almost proud.
“You’re lucky it’s you,” you tell him. “Anyone else would’ve been tackled by now.”
He snorts. “Tackled.”
“Pinned down. Harassed. Thoroughly investigated.”
He turns fully then, steps into you and drops a kiss to your mouth — quick, warm, the kind that doesn’t need anything said around it. Your hand tightens in his hair without thinking, and the kiss goes a fraction slower, a fraction deeper. He laughs softly into your mouth, like he expected nothing less.
When you pull back, he’s looking at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something softer underneath it. “We’re going out,” he reminds you, voice low.
“I know,” you say again. You are absolutely capable of leaving the house without touching his hair.
Probably.
You let him go reluctantly, fingers slipping free like you’ve been denied something important. Already missing the feel of it.
He grabs his cap from the sideboard and pulls it on as you head for the door. It tucks most of his hair away. Not all of it. The back still sticks out, stubborn as ever.
You clock it immediately.
He catches you watching and gives you a look. “Don’t.”
You smile. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yet.”
He takes your hand, laces his fingers through yours, and leads you out. Outside, he locks the door and turns back to you, already resigned. You reach up and fix the sides around his ears, then the bit at the back the cap didn’t quite manage.
Quick. Efficient. Necessary.
He just looks at you.
You look back. “What? It was sticking out.”
“It was fine.”
“It was absolutely not.”
He laughs under his breath and slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as you start walking to the car. “People are gonna think you’re trying to mess with me on purpose.”
You grin, completely unrepentant. “I am messing with you on purpose.”
“That much is clear.”
On the sofa, it gets worse.
You’re stretched out together, something playing that neither of you is really watching. He’s half-reclined against you, head tipped back, and your hand finds the thick waves at the crown of his head almost immediately.
God, it’s so soft. And long enough now that you can actually twist a few strands around your fingers, tug gently just to feel the way it bounces back. He lets out this low, contented hum, like a cat being scratched behind the ears.
“You didn’t even wait,” he says.
You glance down at him, unrepentant. “Why would I?”
He shifts slightly, making a show of settling in. “I’m just saying. There was no build-up.”
You rake your nails lightly over his scalp, watching the way his lashes flutter. “It’s begging to be played with.”
He laughs, low, and after a minute adds, “If you mess it up, you’re fixing it.”
You deliberately mess it up more.
“Unbelievable,” he says, but he doesn’t move. In fact, he tilts his head a fraction, like he’s trying to pretend he’s not actively encouraging this.
Later, when your hand slows and your attention drifts back to the screen, you realise you’ve been doing it for ages. That it’s stopped being about messing with him and started being… comforting.
You don’t comment on that. You just keep going.
Another night, you’re out to dinner — nothing fancy, but enough that he’s clearly made an effort. You’re sitting next to each other at a small table, knees brushing under it, his arm hooked loosely over the back of the booth like it belongs there.
His hair has been coaxed into behaving. Not perfectly. Not stiff. But styled enough that it’s obvious he’s tried — the front pushed back, the sides almost neat, the whole thing looking intentional in a way that immediately gets your attention. You notice it while he’s talking, nodding along to whatever he’s saying, and your first thought is genuinely appreciative.
He looks really good.
Your second thought is: don’t touch it.
You last about a minute.
You don’t interrupt him, don’t make a big deal of it. You just lift your hand and smooth the side of his hair back into place, slow and fond, like you’re admiring his handiwork rather than sabotaging it.
He pauses mid-sentence and glances at you, amused. “You checking my work?”
You smile. “Complimenting it.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It looks good,” you say honestly. “You did a nice job.”
He hums, pleased, and goes back to what he was saying. You let your hand drop back to your lap, feeling satisfied. See? Normal. Supportive. No crimes committed.
A little while later, you’re listening again — really listening this time — when you lean in closer without thinking much about it. Your fingers slide back into his hair, this time at the nape of his neck, lingering there because you like the feel of it. Because it’s soft. Because it’s him.
You’re fully aware of what you’re doing.
You just don’t stop.
He doesn’t call you out. Doesn’t tease. Instead, his hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, bringing them to rest on his thigh like a gentle compromise.
You look at him, caught, “Sorry,” you say, already smiling. “I know I said I wouldn’t.”
“You didn’t say that,” he says easily, thumb brushing against your knuckles.
“I thought it,” you say. “Very briefly.”
He laughs under his breath, squeezing your hand. “I’m not complaining.”
“I just really like it,” you admit, a little sheepish, a little unapologetic. “It looks so good. And it feels nice.”
“I gathered,” he says, glancing at you. There’s no judgement in it. Just warmth.
You make a visible effort after that. Truly. You keep your hands to yourself, sip your drink, nod along, convince yourself you’re behaving like a fully functional adult.
Then he leans in to say something quietly, mouth close to your ear, and the effort it takes not to touch his hair feels completely unreasonable.
Your fingers slip free and curl back into it again, slower this time, deliberate. Affectionate.
He exhales through his nose, a quiet laugh you feel more than hear. “You tried.”
You laugh quietly, exposed. “I really did.”
He leans in and presses a brief kiss to your temple. “I appreciate the effort.”
You leave your hand where it is, content, and when his arm tightens around you a fraction, pulling you closer, it feels less like indulgence and more like agreement.
The first time you catch yourself doing it without thinking is in the car.
He’s driving, one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on your knee. You’re humming along to the radio, watching the road slide past, when your hand drifts up and settles into the back of his hair like it’s always lived there.
You don’t notice straight away.
What you do notice is him saying, mildly, “You know I’m operating heavy machinery, right?”
You blink. Look at your hand. “Oh.”
You pull it back an inch. Then pause. “Wait. Is this dangerous or just distracting?”
He huffs a laugh. “It’s… debatable.”
You grin and very deliberately put your hand back. “I’ll take that risk.”
“Menace,” he mutters, but his shoulders loosen anyway, like he’s resigned to it.
You leave your hand there the rest of the drive, smug.
You realise it’s become a thing when your friends start calling you out on it.
You’re all sitting around a table, drinks half-finished, conversation drifting the way it does when everyone’s comfortable and nobody’s in a rush. Austin’s beside you, turned slightly inward, one arm resting along the back of your chair.
You’re laughing at someone’s story, when one of your friends squints at you. “Do you know you keep doing that?”
You blink. “Doing what?”
She nods at your hand. “That. With his hair. You’ve been at it for, like, ten minutes.”
You glance over.
Yep. There it is. Your hand fully tangled in it. No memory of putting it there.
“Oh,” you say, a little surprised. “Huh.” You start to pull your hand away.
“No, don’t stop on our account," another friend laughs. It’s very… you.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, heat creeping up your neck. “I’m not doing it on purpose.”
Austin glances at you then, amusement flickering across his face. He lets his hand slide to your thigh, thumb pressing lightly, reassuring. “She does it when she’s thinking,” he says, casual.
You stare at him. “I do not.”
“You absolutely do,” he says, gently, smiling wider. “You do it all the time.”
Your friends exchange looks.
Someone laughs. “Honestly, it’s actually cute.”
You groan. “I hate that word.”
“Tough,” your friend says. “That's exactly what you’re being.”
Austin leans in close and whispers, so only you can hear, “I really don’t mind.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Actually, I kinda like it.”
You glance at him. “You do?”
“Mmhmm.” He’s biting his lip.
Your hand ends up back in his hair before you’ve finished your drink.
Your friends absolutely notice.
You absolutely do not care.
That night, when you get home, the door clicks shut behind you, and the quiet of the house feels charged — the evening’s teasing touches and glances still buzzing under your skin. You slip off your shoes and notice him watching you with that small, knowing smile as he does the same.
“What?” he asks, voice low.
You step closer. “So you like it? When I play with your hair.”
He laughs quietly, hanging up his jacket. “Did I say that?”
“Mmhmm.” You close the distance, backing him toward the stairs, your hand brushing his arm. “So… do you?”
He doesn’t answer right away — instead, he reaches for your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Maybe.” His eyes darken a fraction and drop to your mouth.
You hum and finally let your hand slide up, fingers sinking into the thick waves at the nape of his neck. It’s soft, silky, and the way it slips through your fingers feels deeply satisfying. You twist gently at first — testing. Then, with a deliberate tug, you pull a little harder, tilting his head back ever so slightly.
His breath hitches, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Yeah,” he admits, voice rougher now. “I like it.”
“Like this?” you murmur, tugging again — sharper this time — watching the way his jaw tightens, his hands gripping your hips more firmly.
“Yeah,” he says again, quieter this time. “Exactly like that.”
He leans in and kisses you then — slow at first, testing the waters — but the moment your fingers tighten in his hair again, he makes a low, pleased sound against your mouth and deepens it. His tongue brushes yours, warm and unhurried, while one of his hands slides up your back to hold you closer.
You keep your hand where it is, combing through the waves, tugging lightly whenever the kiss slows and you want more. He responds every time, groaning softly, hips pressing closer until your back finds the wall beside the stairs.
“Fuck,” he breathes when you break for air, forehead resting against yours. “Do that again.”
You smile and oblige — fingers twisting a little firmer this time, guiding his head so you can kiss along his jaw, down to the spot just below his ear. His hair brushes your cheek, soft and warm, tickling lightly as he turns into your touch.
He exhales shakily, hands roaming now — under your top, along your sides — before he pulls back just enough to look at you. “Bedroom,” he says quietly. “Please.”
You don’t need asking twice. You keep one hand in his hair as you guide him up the stairs, tugging gently every few steps to keep him kissing you, laughing softly when he nearly trips on the top step because he’s too distracted to look where he’s going.
In the bedroom the pace slows again. He backs you toward the bed, kissing you properly now, hands careful as he slips your top off, then his own. When he lowers you onto the mattress and settles over you, his hair falls forward, brushing your collarbone, your chest, trailing over your skin as he kisses lower.
You thread both hands into it, gripping lightly, tugging when his mouth finds a spot that makes you arch. He groans against your skin, hips rocking down in a slow grind that has you both gasping.
The rest is easy, intimate closeness — lazy kisses, wandering hands, soft sounds swallowed between you. Your fingers stay in his hair the whole time, tightening when you need him closer, loosening when you want to feel it slide through your hands, until everything builds to a gentle, shuddering peak that leaves you both breathless.
Afterward, you’re tangled together, his weight a comforting press against you. His hair is a glorious mess — damp at the roots, strands sticking up in odd directions. You smooth it back tenderly, fingers drifting through the waves in slow, absent strokes.
He looks blissed-out, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth curved in that lazy, satisfied smile you love. He catches your wrist and kisses the inside of it. “Still obsessed?”
You grin, unrepentant. “Hopelessly.”
He laughs softly, rolling to the side and pulling you against his chest.
And as his breathing evens out, your hand still playing gently in his hair, you think this silly obsession might just be the best thing that’s happened to you.
munch!jason todd who spends every day, sometimes multiple times a day, positioned right between your legs. he truly believes that's where he belongs.
munch!jason todd who loves coming home after patrol and finding you curled up on the couch in nothing but panties and one of his oversized t-shirts.
he'll drop to his knees right in front of where you're sitting, taking hold of your calves to pull you closer to him, big hands already pulling at the waistband of your underwear.
munch!jason todd who once he gets you bare and sees your folds glistening with arousal, dives right in. licking and sucking at your puffy, swollen clit.
munch!jason todd who nearly creams his boxers when he hears your mewls and whines from him making out with your cunt.
munch!jason todd who can't shut the fuck up when he's eating you out.
"fuuuck baby-" he moans into your heat, "pretty pussy's s'wet for me..." he would ramble on and on about how much he loves this, if you didn't tug at his hair and shush him.
munch!jason todd who sticks two fingers in, scissoring you open while his mouth works tirelessly pleasing you.
"that feel good, huh?" he grins with a sort of pride, looking up at your fucked-out expression, "so fuckin' beautiful like this..." he's obsessed with the knowing that only he can make you feel this good.
munch!jason todd who ruts his hips against the couch the whole time, trying not to be selfish, but it's so hard, literally, when you're making all those pretty noises just for him.
munch!jason todd who can tell you're close before you even know it. when he feels your gummy walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers, and your breath get shallow, he knows all you need is a little encouragement.
"there you go, baby, you gonna cum for me?" he tilts his head, pulling his lips away you to speak, making you whine. he huffs a laugh and goes back down to suck at your clit harder than before, making you cry out.
"mhm... fuck- cum for me, sweet girl" he smiles into your cunt, relishing in the way you tighten impossibly around his fingers when you finally let go and cum with his name on your tongue.
munch!jason todd who licks you clean like your release is liquid gold, closing his eyes and focusing purely on how good you taste.
munch!jason todd who presses a soft kiss right on your sensitive bud when he's done cleaning you up, then gazing up at you with that whipped, lovesick look in his eyes.
munch!jason todd who has a very obvious wet patch on the front of his pants when he stands up. he flops down next to you on the couch and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the top of your head and holding you as you recover form your orgasm.
munch!jason todd who leans his head down to whisper sweetly to you, "you're jus' too good, baby"
doing friends with benefits with dex is actually a full-on work duty because ... this man is crazy, head over heels for you and your body.
especially when you let him fuck your cunt—all loaded up with his cum and the glistering sound of his balls crashing against your pussy within every thrust it's just: chef kiss. absolutely incredible.
your legs might be trembling, and yet he'll be behind you, gripping your waist so tightly he'll surely leave his fingertips etched into your sides. he's big, and when i say big, i mean HUGE. all caps included.
it took you ages to get used to his size, even though his pace is slow sometimes—it's still common for you to have to cover your mouth so none of his roommates can hear you moaning from how good his cock feels thrusting and kissing your cervix.
he doesn't shy away, he's very smug about it. prasing how good your walls are gripping his dick, leting out some low moans against your ear while biting it. you can't push him away.
"gosh, i missed this," he would say between each thrust. "take your time darling, 'cause ain't going nowhere until this—fuck! this pretty cunt of yours is dripping with my cum."
your vision turned blank. you had become a bundle of moans that only bore his name: "dex," "oh fuck—right there!," "'s too much, i feel like m'gonna pee myself!" is all you can say. and yet again, that only encourages him to keep hitting your cervix until you see stars.
that's the biggest benefit dex gets from agreeing to these kinds of encounters with you. because no matter what, even though you have countless dates with guys, he knows perfectly well that after them you'll run straight into his arms. begging for him to fuck you and remind you he's the only one who knows you better than anyone.
Synopsis: Their hands are one of their main tools in combat. Turns out they're also their main tool for pleasuring you.
Characters: Sabo, Nico Robin, Doflamingo, Black Maria, Sanji, Koala - seperate.
Content: Fem!reader, fingering... lots of fingering... thats literally what every character will be doing just in different ways.
-> Content warnings will be at the start of every characters section bc they all differ (content warnings are mainly for Doffy + Maria tbh cause they're mean freaks)
SABO
CW: pet names, teasing/edging, implication of oral sex, inappropriate use of... fighting technique?
"Fuck," you moan with your head pressing back into the pillow like you wantwd it to swallow you.
Sabo has three fingers inside you. The room being filled by the sounds of your moans and your pussy squelching each time he pulled them out only to press them back in.
Occasionally he curled them, causing an involuntary sounds to leave you to which Sabo always reacts differently to. You're almost sure that with each new sound you make he internally catalogues them.
"You doing alright, love?" His smug voice asks you, curling and pressing right in your sensitive spot that has you clenching around him.
"St-stop teasing me, you asshole." You manage to say once he brings his fingers out again before he pushes them back in once more, making your back arch upwards, hips thrusting to try and get more of him in while a cry leaves your lips.
You'd been at this for what felt like hours but in reality was probably no more than thirty minutes.
Sabo has always had a high libido and the stamina to match it. You, however, have never matched him in such a department. So it often resulted in situations like these-
With him constantly & enthusiasticly pleasuring you in anyway he can: often with his fingers which can curl exactly where you need them with his freaky dexterity learned from his dragon claw maneuver, and with you being left constantly on edge with him never wanting to have you cum too quickly.
His fingers had shocked you going into your relationship, the first time he'd moved them the way you're almost certain only he can and you still don't understand how. You often switch between thinking of it as a curse and a blessing depending on whether Sabo wants to tease you or not.
He often does.
Sabo hums lightly, speeding up his fingers which has you letting out a small gasp. "'m not teasing you, I'm pleasing you."
You let out a slight laugh at his terrible rhyme but decide to remove one of your clenched hands from the sheets to grip the back of his head, pulling his head and eyes up to meet yours. "It'd please me more if you let me come already, you insatiable freak."
Sabo blinks like an owl, tilting his head, before letting out a laugh of his own, leaning forward & kissing you softly, his lips tangling with yours. You sigh into it, even feeling your building climax, the kiss relaxes you and you feel some of his strands of hair brush against your cheek.
When he pulls apart, your eyes flutter open and look into his hazel as he asks you against your lips: "Well why didn't you say so earlier?"
You don't have time to argue or even think about saying: "I did, you're just an asshole who didn't listen!" Because his fingers speed up once more, curling and his thumb presses against your clit.
You come quickly after. Letting out a cry as your toes curl, legs shake and Sabo's fingers ride you through it.
You think you might've blacked out but when you open your eyes again, you look up and see Sabo sucking his fingers covered in you, with a dangerous look in his eyes. He looks down before his head dips and his tongue prods you.
NICO ROBIN
CW: inappropriate use of df e.g multiple hands serving as bondage and just... lots of pleasure. edging, teasing, overstimulation, pet names like naughty girl and good girl, praise kink.
Her devil fruit was very handy. It was also very handsy.
She has you spread out, knees on her couch within the library, with one hand holding your wrists together like a rope while two hands on each ankle are holding you down. Theres a hand each for both breasts, twisting and squeezing, while one hand is sprouted beneath your dripping cunt, working fingers into you.
Meanwhile, the one responsible for all of this, sits in front of you in her main chair. Her legs are crossed, there is a book in front of her although you're not sure she's actually reading any of it, and her hand moves to grab her tea cup and take a sip of it while her fingers curl inside you making your breath stutter.
You've already cum once, simply from her hands and the attention to your breasts, but Robin hadn't stopped and watched with a serene smile as you writhed with tears forming in the corner of your eyes and your breath coming out in quick pants.
"Robin," You moan. The woman responds by tweaking your nipple slightly sending a burst of heat down to your core.
"Hm?" She inquires with a hum innocently, like she doesn't know exactly what she's doing. Her fingers curl, her thumb presses lightly on your clit and your back arches, trying to lift from the soft cushion of the couch but being unable to as one of her duplicate hands holds you down.
You almost let out a cry from the pressure but Robin forms a hand on your mouth before you can. When you look up at her, breathing hard, she gives you a small smile from over her book.
"We can't be too loud, someone from the crew could hear, you naughty girl." Her hands gently fondle your breasts and you watch her gaze drop down to them, filling with lust. "This is a library after all, its disrespectful to make too much noise."
You muffle out an apology beneath her hand which causes a small laugh to leave Robin, one that has her eyes crinkiling shut.
"You'll be a good girl and keep quiet?" She asks, opening her eyes once more to peer at you. You feel a heat rise in you like it always does no matter how many times she calls you that. You give a quick nod as your reply and then Robin is allowing the hand at your mouth to dissipate.
Once she does she presses hard on your clit while her fingers curl and begin to speed up. You bite your lip to hold back a moan while your head dips forward and eyes squeeze shut. Your hips try to rock against her fingers but as soon as you begin, two hands are on your hips holding them down.
A whine leaves you. Robin then forms a hand at your chin, tilting it upwards. She's moved from the seat to now be standing in front of you with a dangerous smile on her face.
Her hand, her real hand, replaces the one at your chin which she summons away and her thumb trails your bottom lip while her fingers rock inside you. Your thighs want to clench together but her hands stop that.
"Are you close?" She asks you softly.
You nod and her smile widens. Her fingers picked up, her attention on your clit only increases and you stifle another sound.
"Ah, such a good quiet girl you've been." She hooks her thumb into your mouth, operating your lips. "Come for me."
Your orgasm hits you and a cry leaves your clips before you can think to stop it. Some drool pools in your mouth, threatening to slip past the corner of your lips.
Her fingers work you through the orgasm until you're shaking and Robin lets you regain your breath before you hear her let out a small disappointed sigh.
"You were doing so well, but you had to go and be loud..." her thumb collects some of your saliva before pressing it back into your mouth.
"Im going to have to punish you for that, no?"
DOFLAMINGO
CW: inappropriate use of df eg. bondage, slapping, edging, mirror sex, rough, slight size difference, slight dub-con because the reader can't really move during any of this?
Strings hold your thighs taut, digging into your skin causing ridges to form that you know the view of only make Doflamingo's grin widen. You're spread out against his clothed lap, but the clothes do nothing to stop the feeling of his bulge against you that only makes you arch hard against him.
He feels it, of course he does, it'd be difficult not to when your back is supposed to be pressed against his chest. Doflamingo tightness the strings that bind your wrists above your head and behind you, interlinking at the back of his head. The position is uncomfortable, its supposed to be. Doflamingo doesn't do comfort, after all.
But the mirror in front of you that forces you to see your humiliated state doesn't do anything to help with the heat you feel right now. You're spread, dripping, and behind you Doflamingo smiles.
"Fufu," he drawls, as his strings tug on your wrists. It causes your back to try and arch further from him in an attempt to escape but one of his hands rests on your lower abdomen and presses you back into him.
"Such a needy girl," he says while his other hand trails across your thighs. They twiddle over the strings encasing your fat like how one might play with the strings of an instrument. His large hands then flatten rubbing over them, before delivering a sharp slap.
You cry out, but you're unable to move despite your body's desire to flinch away. He then rubs at the spot, condescendingly.
"That was for trying to escape me," He tells you, with a voice sweet like poisoned honey set in an obvious trap.
"I wasn't trying to escape," You argue, throwing him a glare in the mirror that is severely unthreatening when your eyes are slightly hazy with unshed tears from the slap.
He tuts in your ear and you see in the mirror as his hand trails to your inner thigh. Brushing against the small hairs of yours that lay there. "It's not good to lie," he says against your ear, nibbling it.
You think to yourself that's rich coming from him but another slap is delivered to your thigh before Doflamingo is spreading your flaps open.
A gasp leaves your mouth unwillingly when two of his fingers plunge right into you, curling in a way that makes your head tilt back. Doflamingo tuts again. His hand against your abdomen rises, grazing your breasts, before reaching your chin. He forces it down and forward, your eyes meeting your own in the mirror.
"You need to see and appreciate what I'm doing for you." His voice rings out with slight offence, like you trying to look away from yourself was you breaking some unsaid rule.
Maybe it was.
Doflamingo's fingers are long and thick. A dangerous combination especially when he begins to pummeling them in and out of you. Your head is forced to keep your eyes on the mirror and you find yourself watching in the mirror how easily he maneuvers in and out of you.
"Plenty of women are dying to be in your position, you know." He whispers before curling his fingers once more.
A moan leaves your lips before you can stop it, and you retain your dignity by snapping back at him, "Really? I'd thought more than half the women in Dressrosa would've been in this position of mine already."
Doflamingo goes still.
His fingers stopping inside you while his grin drops. You see it happen, and you feel a shiver run up your spine. Behind the glasses, you feel his gaze on you through the mirror. It feels like a predators gaze.
"Maybe they have," He says with a worryingly even tone. The fingers holding your chin then grip tighter, painfully. Closing against your jaw. His grin returns, even more feral. "But they'd still beg to be back in it."
You would've screamed if it were not for his fingers locking your jaw so that it could not, when as soon as his words left his mouth, his fingers moved with innane speed, in and out of you.
The noises filled the room. Your legs kicked out before string held them still much like your thighs and you thrashed against him as much as you could with limited mobility while his fingers worked you towards orgasm at quick speeds.
His thumb eventually, roughly, rubbed against your clit and you were seeing stars. Coming against his fingers while they never stopped. Squelching filled the room accompanied by his boisterous laugh.
He kept going even through the wave of your orgasm before finally stopping allowing you a breather. He kisses your cheek, "and that was just the prelude."
BLACK MARIA
CW: Size difference, inappropriate use of df eg. Bondage. dacryphilia, use of pet name: pet, dumbification, begging, same with Doffy, slight dub-con bc the reader can't rlly move during this.
"Oh, come now, you can take this," Maria coos into your ear as one of her large fingers works itself slowly into your dripping pussy, following one already inserted.
You stare up at her grinning face and cold mean eyes looking down on you. Quick pants of breath escape your gaped lips, she watches, amused, as you try to say anything- whether it be a plea, an insult, a beg, you're not sure but only a cry leaves you as she inserts her second finger fully in.
You're so full, yet she's done barley anything. Your saving grace is the fact that despite her fingers being so long, they are slim, and it suits her sadistic needs that you can actually fit two of her fingers in you without breaking fully.
She begins to move them slowly, finding pleasure in the way your body twitches, trying to escape but being unable to, tied up in her webs, stuck and only in place to just take what she's oh so generously giving you.
Your head tilts back as she speeds them up, lightly making small scissoring motions that have you crying out as she effortlessly explores every part of you.
Your mind is blank with only her, like a fog has settled over and your only thoughts consit of Maria's fingers, the urge to come, and the words she whispers to you.
"Now now," she coos once more. Her voice sounds like the loudest thing right now. "There's no need to cry, pet."
Maria's words, belatedly make you realise, your sobs have in fact been coming from the fact you're crying.
"Although, you do make such a beautiful image like this."
Her fingers begin to pick up, and your legs tense where they are against the webs. You cry out and Maria whispers sweet nothings into your ears as she lets her fingers work quicker. Their mobility is limited in, whats to her, your small cunt, but they make do, pumping in and out.
Eventually, she decides to let you off as she sees your breaths picking up, your legs trembling moreso against her webs- she can feel every part of you with them and it sends a thrill of pleasure through her.
"I'll let you cum, if you remind me who you belong to," Maria whispers, words dripped with honey.
With no hesitation you tell her, "You! I belong to you! Please- please-"
Her stained lips grin wickedly and she taps her pipe in hand, before setting it down. Her other hand holds your waist as her one with fingers still working in you, moves her thumb and presses hard on your clit.
You come instantly, crying out in relief as you squirt over her fingers. She watches with half-lided eyes and once your done, brings your fingers to your lips. "You did well," she tells you and you pratically preen at the praise taking her finger into your mouth and cleaning yourself off of her.
SANJI
CW: oral sex (reader recieving), hair pulling, body worship, slow sex
If Sanji is one thing, he's a gentleman. Emphasis on the gentle.
His fingers work themselves into you as a process. Sanji's fingers first open your flaps, his fingers dip into your growing wetness and you watch as he lifts them, he observes before tasting you with reverence, you could've sworn he looked like he was tasting a five star meal and not just your slick.
You think surely I can't taste that good... But you're not quite sure watching his face.
After which, he'll tell you. "You taste, divine, mon amour," and his face is baked in such ecstasy you can't claim otherwise. He dips his head into your folds and licks up your slit, tasting what he can.
You can only grip his hair, causing a moan to burst out of him that sends a vibration through you that you feel with his tongue prodding your hole.
You then feel his fingers return, they'll gather up your slick from your hole and then, his middle will begin to gentley slip in. He lets it move at a slow, rhythmic pace. Meanwhile, his mouth works on giving attention to your bud at random intervals that has you responding vocally and tightening your fingers in his hair that has him responding vocally.
"O-ohh," you find yourself moaning as his fingers curl with a suck to your clit. "Sanji," your voice catches on your words when you feel him prod another finger into your hole while speeding them up slightly.
The cook takes your vocalisation as encouragement and allows his fingers to speed up and focus intently on your clit.
Despite the intensity of his movements, the direct focus he has on you, Sanji's pace is still too slow, working you up steadily. His one hand works into you while his other holds up your thigh. His hand digs into your flesh and he grasps it like it's a squishy toy he doesn't want to break.
You spend another thirty minutes in this state. Sanji fingering you slowly while his other hand trails your thigh and leg, he ended up giving you somewhat of a massage there, before, finally, you got close.
You let him know so, and like a man starved, he becomes quicker and you're cumming in no time.
You're pretty sure you've soaked the bedsheets but Sanji doesn't seem to care as when you look down at his face he's staring up at you like you'd just given him the best gift he's ever recieved with the area around his mouth and his lips glistening with you and his eyes lided with devotion.
KOALA
CW: inexperienced Koala, unintentional edging- she's trying her best
"Are you alright?" Koala's voice slips through your pleasant haze. Her fingers work at a slow pace, slipping in and out of you like Koala is scared if she goes any quicker she'll hurt you.
The pace, despite it's slowness, has you seeing stars. Her fingers are strong, her movements are direct and focused, Koala moves at such a slow pace but you're sure if she moved any faster you'd come already.
You manage to nod at her question, movements hazy. Koala lights up above you, planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth, and with it her chest brushes against yours and you mewl, your back arching upwards slightly.
Her fingers in you curl with the movement, a sharp move, and her thumb presses down onto your clit. You gasp, feeling your climax approaching, but almost sob when she quickly retracts her movements.
"Ah- sorry! I didn't mean- I didn't hurt you right?" She asks, peering down at your face with a frown.
You can't help the small smile that forms on your face. You cup her cheek, kissing her slowly before rubbing her soft skin with your thumb.
"Please, do that again, but quicker," You pratically beg.
Koala blinks down at you like you'd grown a second head but ultimately smiles with a smile of determination on her face.
Her fingers slide into you again, and she begins to move them in and out quicker. A sigh leaves your slips as you feel yourself slowly building to climax again as her fingers work you up and her thumb moves, trying to rub at your clit but mostly rubbing around it and sometimes brushing against it.
Eventually, her pace speeds up, fingers curling in you just right and her thumb manages to find your bud again. She circles and presses down on it in tandem with her fingers and before you know it, your climax is hitting you.
Koala's fingers slow their pace but keep inside you as you come down from your high and she watches your face in curiosity.
"Can we try that again?" She asks once your breathing has slowed. You don't know why you'd ever tell her no.
A/N: I have like 0 sexual attraction to Doffy and Koala, and idk if thats obvious or not from my writing of them. Also, yes. It is infuriating me Doffy's is somehow the longest section of this.
warnings: very suggestive, detailed making out, description of readers body (not detailed!) sex mention, fem!reader. yes, kit connor is my wally west face claim…. i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything! also realized how similar this is to my tim fic after writing it but yolo i guess
divider: @pxrce-lain
865 words
wally truly couldn’t believe himself right now. he can barely comprehend the things he’s done to lead to this point. he’s currently face to face with his best friend’s sister, faces only inches apart from each other’s.
his hands are resting on your thighs, “is this okay?” he whispers out. you only respond with an eager nod.
something about this moment feels soft. the look in your eyes feels so warm and alluring. he’s never seen anything quite like it. sure, wally’s had his fair share of vulnerable moments with various partners, but he’s never had you.
his hands move up your thighs, to the curve of your hips, and now cupping your cheeks. he leans in, not before saying, “is this okay?” once again. you softly giggle, “you don’t have to keep asking, y’know.” he laughs, as his head dips into the curve of your neck.
“just trying to be respectful, that’s all.” sure, he’s gotten around, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have morals. especially when it comes to you. when it comes to this moment he’s sure he dreamed into existence.
he lifts his head from your shoulder, “you look beautiful right now.” said with a boyish grin. all you do is laugh, and look down. almost like you’re trying to hide from his affection. he lifts your head, fingers grazing your chin, “what?” he says through a sweet nervous laugh.
“it’s just— i don’t know. no one’s ever had me like this, is all.” you say honestly, looking into his eyes. wally runs his hands over your curves once more. he takes a look at your body, then your eyes. “but you’re okay with this, right?”
“yes, wally.” you say through a sheepish laugh. he finally leans in, putting his lips to yours. he kisses you like he’s trying to figure something out. like he’s trying to find a way to remember the taste of your mouth until the end of time.
he pushes his tongue into your mouth, testing the waters. you reciprocate the action almost immediately. the two of you kiss, and kiss, and kiss. it feels like hours have passed by the time you go to pull your shirt over your head.
but wally quickly moves his hands to yours, preventing this from going further. “what’s wrong?” you ask sincerely.
“i just— i think we should wait to do anything more.” he says with a nervous hiss. “why? did i do something?” you ask, with a slight tilt in your head.
“no! no— it’s just about respect. y’know, i’m trying to be respectful.” he says while shrugging his shoulders. all you can do is laugh at his antics. “how chivalrous, wally west.” the two of you just laugh for a moment, until the moment falls a bit more serious. wally leans in once again.
the two of you make out for hours, with it not leading to anything more. the way he kisses you is full of sweetness. there’s something so simple about it, like it’s not supposed to lead to anything more. he kisses you like the two of you will never have sex. like he’s not trying to get anything more out of you.
because he’s not. he’s just simply enjoying the taste of your tongue on his. enjoying your smell. memorizing every crevice of your mouth while his hands memorize every curve of your body.
you pull away, looking him in his eyes. you just giggle, completely lost for words. his hands are still resting on your face, “why are you laughing?” he says hypocritically, also through a laugh.
“i don’t know!” you say with a wide, but flat smile. he laughs once again, “i really meant it when i said you look beautiful.” you suddenly get nervous, hiding your face in your hands. “none of that.” he softly says, moving your hands from your face.
you go to fix your hair and put on your fakest pout, “but i’m all messy now!” he laughs, catching your hands in his once again. “and yet, you still look beautiful.” he drops your hands, now fixing your hair for you. he then kisses your forehead, then lands a quick peck on your lips.
“we should… probably stop for now, right?” he says with hesitation. “right.” you say with all your might. although you don’t want this moment to end, you’re content with just being in his presence, regardless.
the two of you cuddle up and switch on the television, settling on a random low-budget romcom. but neither of you can truly focus on the cheesy film you’re watching. you’re too busy reflecting on the romcom-esque moment you just shared.
wally really meant it when he said he wanted to take things slow. he glances over at you, completely lost in his thoughts. he wants you to know that he’s really, truly, about this. about you. the last thing he’d want you to think is that you’re just another one of his late night rendezvous.
you’re so much more than that. so much more than his old ways. he thinks you’re sweetness in human form. he knows you’re the one for him. he’s no longer even thinking of the future consequences of his very, very, idiotic actions. all he can think about is how, once again, you’re the one.
having wally wests’s hips slapping against your ass, cock drilling into you hard, but at a regular, human pace, not the harsh pace he’s got you so used to. he’s not going slow, he’s not even being gentle about it, but he’s not going as fast as he can, not wally fast. for any other guy this would’ve been okay, but you know your boyfriend can do better than that right now.
your back arches in hopes of getting a better angle, but it’s not enough, you need more friction. that’s when your hips start moving against his. you start fucking yourself back into him, until it’s finally you who’s taking control of the situation, his movements synchronised with your own, falling into a nice rhythm together. wally loves it. he loves seeing you use him for your own pleasure like that and the jiggle of your ass with every snap of his hips.
still, it’s not enough for you. once a "faster" finally escapes your lips, he really goes faster. you try to keep moving your hips along with his, but it’s impossible to keep up with him once he starts picking up the pace, a pace only the fastest man alive can achieve. you’re only left to give in to the pleasure your speedster boyfriend provides.
you’re barely aware of what was going on inside your cunt anymore. the sensation of his cock dragging along your walls is not only mindnumbing, but also too fast for your brain to catch up on. the obscene sounds coming out only help heighten the sensation, the slaps of skin that should never come this rapidly, the wet sounds your combined juices make each time his cock slips in and out of you, and the small grunts of your boyfriend behind you. all of it plus the occasional slap of his balls against your clit—that also comes a lot more often at his speed—has you seeing stars already, but what finally drives you over the edge is when he starts vibrating his dick against your walls too.
you hear a “hm” out of wally once you’re coming on his cock, an amused hum by a clearly-too-pleased-with-himself boyfriend.
i could NOT stop thinking about wally west as a human vibrator
because no toy could ever be compared to his face buried between your thighs, hands holding them and throwing your legs on his shoulders while his tongue works in ways only someone like wally could do
“mm you taste so good, babe” he moaned on your pussy, rolling his eyes to the back of his head from how tight your grip got in his ginger locks. his tongue was going at a speed that put your vibrator to shame, the pace so fast it had your thighs locking his head in place and your legs trembling in the air
“fuuuuck, bet your vibrator can’t do this”
“can’t get enough of her, holy shit”
“already getting hard just from eating you out"
“wall- oh my godddd, wally” you gasped, knocking your head back and jerking your hips for a second from the pressure. but wally’s grip immediately held you still, if not closer as he buried his face more into your pussy with a satisfied sigh
“you’re not leaving until you make a mess all over my face”
and right when you thought you couldn’t handle it any second, wally placed his tongue and pressed it flat on your clit, the inhuman pace not stopping for even a second as his grip on your thighs tightened and a vibrated moan of your name left his busy mouth
that was more than enough for you to lock his head with your thighs and let your orgasm wash all over his lower face with a loud moan of wally’s name, your pussy glistening with both your cum and wally’s saliva
“more—" he panted on your cunt, licking every single drop. “more more more more—" wally was so pussy drunk he needed you to cum again. “cmon gorgeous, i know you have one more in you”
this man was not stopping, even when your cum was dripping on his chin, even when your thighs were not letting go of his face, even though your grip on his hair was tight and burying his face more onto your cunt
and the next day? you threw the shamed and humiliated vibrator in the trash
—————————————————————————
masterlist!
(a/n: had to get on the vibrator!wally train you have no idea how thats been haunting my mind for a good four weeks)
nsfw 18+ wally west and sucking ur face making out.
cw: nasttyyy sloppy making out that involves spit. And maybe breathplay? Idk but it’s my JAM ٩(ˊ ᗜˋ*)و
Wally would like… kiss you so hard bro. He loves make out sessions so much cause it gets him sooo riled up. Maybe TOO riled up. He can def come in his pants just from making out.
But it’s fine cause yk, Speedster metabolism
or wtv tf
He would be full on sloppy frenching and sucking ur face like he needs it to fucking breathe. And his tongue?? Down your throat.
Damn near not letting you breathe through your mouth until he’s finished with..basically face fucking you with his tongue.
He would totally be sucking on ur tongue all the while letting out beautiful needyyy moans pathetically as one of his hands he holds you by your neck, adding a bit of pressure of course cause he doesn’t want you to go nowhere.
You don’t need to go anywhere right now.
You need to just be here with him.
He’s just possessive like that. :3
Pulling you closer by the neck everytime you squirm or whimper around him. You just need to sit here in his lap and look pretty while he kisses you and himself to death.
He doesn’t even care about all the spit down his chin, or yours . How could he? He can’t exactly wipe it off his other hand is busy feeling you up, teasing you by squeezing your tits extra hard justttt how you like just to see you get even more riled up, shamelessly. like the perv he is.
He gets more needy and hungry while deepening kiss and is pinning you down on the bed under him . He breaks the kiss and both of you are breathless, his wet, red lips teasingly licking the shell of your ear lustfully.
“Hah..hah oh fuck sweetheart… lemme kiss you some more. Yeah, c’monn babe lemme shove my tongue down your fucking throat again. I know how much you love it”Yeah he’s projecting he enjoys this a little bit more than you do. He’s such a freak.
He would be smiling lazily at how swollen and wet your lips are.. how short breathes escape you as you look at dumbly. Your brain short circuiting while he just laughs at you mockingly.
cocky asshole
Wally would plant soft kisses on your face…which turned sloppy of course. From your lips, to your jaw, down to your neck, he leaves wet kisses all over you.
“Sucha pretty girl... and all for me, huh? Letting me kiss you stupid like that… hah.. y’look s’pretty under me baby…God you don’t know what you d-do to me, sweetheart...oh fuuuhggkk..”
His voice cracks as he WHINES, pulling you in for another deep, sloppy, desperate kiss. The 2 of you swallowing each others moans while Wally grinds his leaking hardness in his boxers onto your soaked panties like a poor puppy in heat.
He’s even whimpering like one too.
And leaving his spit all over you like one too.
Okiii thats all I hope you liked it & i really hope it made sense > <
#drabble.ᐟ ⸝⸝ collegeboy!wally west ⸝⸝ pining!wally ⸝⸝ gentle praise&teasing ⸝⸝ oral sex | fingering ⸝⸝ p in v ⸝⸝ MDNI ! reader’s first time.
───〃★ anon’s request !
wally zipped around his off-campus apartment one last time, straightening cushions and dimming the lights just enough to keep things cozy without going full “romantic cliché.”
his heart was doing that annoying flutter thing it always did around you—faster than even the speed force usually let him push. you’d been on a few dates now—coffee runs where you’d buried your nose in a textbook and blushed every time he cracked a joke, late-night campus walks where he’d slowed down (way down) just to match your pace, and that one movie night where your hand had brushed his and stayed there.
god, he’d been pining hard and practically begging after the third date with that half-joking, half-desperate “c’mon, babe, I’m dying here. let me show you how good it can be.”
you’d finally said yes, shy smile and all, and now here you were. shit he’s nervous. he hasn’t been this nervous about anything since… he doesn’t remember and he’s not about to dwell on it when you’re outside his door.
he heard the soft knock and blurred to the door in a heartbeat, pulling it open with a grin that was equal parts cocky and genuinely thrilled that you made it. “hey, you. was starting to think you’d changed your mind and hit the books instead of me. wouldn’t blame you—those textbooks are probably better company.”
you stepped inside, clutching the strap of your bag, cheeks already pink. pretty, bookish you in that oversized sweater and pants that hugged just right. wally had seen the way you looked at him during lectures or when he passed by the library. he wasn’t blind to your crush. but it’s not like he wasn’t crushing either. “i… i didn’t change my mind,” you murmured, voice soft but steady enough. “just nervous.”
“totally fair,” he said, closing the door behind you and taking your bag gently, setting it aside. no speeding for this—he wanted every second to feel real. “first times are kinda a big deal and i’m not gonna rush you, promise. we go at your pace, okay?“
your laugh was quiet, breathy, and it did things to him. wally guided you to the couch, sitting close but not crowding. his hand found yours, thumb rubbing slow circles over your knuckles. he could feel your pulse racing under his fingers and it matched the way his own sped up around you.
conversation flowed easy, the way it always did with you once you warmed up. you talked about the latest assignment in your lit class, eyes lighting up behind your glasses in that way that made him want to listen forever. he teased you lightly—“you’re such a brainiac. it’s hot, y’know that?”—and leaned in to kiss the corner of your mouth when you ducked your head shyly. fuck, he wasn’t sure when it happened but he could already feel himself aching and he hoped you didn’t notice. he didn’t want to look like some loser who gets hard at seeing you blush.
the kisses deepened gradually. wally kept it soft at first, one hand cupping your cheek, tasting the faint sweetness of your lip balm. you responded tentatively, fingers curling into his shirt, and he hummed approval against your lips. “you didn’t tell me you were this much of a good kisser.”
“shut up, i’m not.” he watched your cheeks flush the prettiest shade of red he’d ever seen.
“mm, you’re lying,” he muttered playfully, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
when your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard lines of his abs—earned from running literal marathons in seconds—he groaned low. “careful, or I might vibrate a little.“
you pulled back a bit, eyes wide but curious, flitting from his face to where your hands rested. he couldn’t help but love the look you had on your face. “vibrate? like… down there?”
wally chuckled, the sound warm and a little ragged because hell, he’s never been this turned on before. not from just a little bit of making out at least. “only if you want the full speedster experience later. bit too early for that now though,” he joked breathlessly—desperately trying to maintain his composure. “right now it’s just me, you know. same guy who’s been crazy about you since you dropped that stack of books in the quad and told me to stop showing off. hope that’s not too disappointing.”
that earned a shy laugh from you, relaxing you enough to reach for his shirt. he helped you out, tugging it over his head, revealing the lean, toned build that came with being the flash. he watched your eyes widened, fingers tracing the lines of his abs with hesitant curiosity. the touch sent sparks through him. and it stroked his ego too, honestly, seeing you look at him like that.
“touch me wherever you want,” he encouraged, voice low. “I’m yours tonight… and tomorrow if you want.”
he eased you back against the cushions, trailing kisses down your neck, savoring the way your breath hitched. his hands slipped under your sweater, palms warm against your soft skin, mapping every inch like he had all the time in the world (which, he kinda did). “tell me if anything feels weird or too much,” he murmured against your collarbone, nipping lightly.
you nodded, shivering as he peeled the sweater off, revealing simple bra and the flush spreading across your chest. “it feels… nice. really nice. keep going?”
that was all the encouragement he needed. wally took his sweet time undressing you, whispering praises between kisses—“god, look at you. so pretty. i’ve been thinking about this”—until you were bare beneath him, shyly trying to cover yourself. yeah, no. he won’t have that. he caught your wrists gently, pressing them beside your head. “don’t hide now, baby. you’re so pretty and I’ve been dying to see you like this.”
his mouth moved lower, tongue tracing circles around one nipple until it pebbled under the attention. you gasped, arching into him. he could smell the faint, sweet scent of your arousal starting to build and feel the heat radiating from your skin. the moan you gave went straight to his cock. he could feel himself hardening against his jeans, but he ignored it, focusing on you—the way your breath quickened, the subtle shift of your hips.
fingers slowly trailed down your stomach, dipping between your thighs. “is this okay?” he asked breathlessly and when you nodded he wasted no time. you were slick, warm, and—fuck—so responsive. the way you gasped when he circled your clit slowly? enough to end him right then and there.
“walls…” you breathed out through a whine, hips twitching.
“yeah? right there?” he cooed sweetly, unable to hide the smirk on his lips. he kept the pace languid, gently rubbing two fingers back and forth through your slick folds. he didn’t want to slip a finger in just yet, wanting to make sure you’re wet enough beforehand. he wondered what it would be like to sink into you but the thought was shoved down quick because, right now, this was about you—not him.
“so wet for me already. that’s my sweet girl. relax into it. just breathe, baby. we’ve got all night.”
you moaned softly, hands fisting into the fabric of the couch, eyes fluttering shut as your back arched just a bit off the surface when he brushed your clit. be it, shy as you were, your body was opening up, trusting him in ways he never thought he’d see before. wally kissed you deeply through it, swallowing your little sounds.
he took his time moving down till his face was between your legs. he was learning what made you gasp—slow circles, then a firmer press, then he was dipping a finger inside your tight heat. you were incredibly snug, walls clenching around the single digit. “fuck, it’s so tight,” he murmured, kissing your hip. “we’re gonna take this nice and easy. tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop.”
“it doesn’t hurt,” you managed, cheeks flushed deep red. “more… please.”
he added a second finger carefully, scissoring them while his thumb worked over your clit. the wet sounds filled the room alongside your growing moans. he could feel your body relaxing fully now, your slick coating his hand. his own cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, but he focused on the taste of you as he lowered his mouth, tongue replacing his thumb. salty-sweet and addictive. so good it made him groan. he licked and sucked with patient enthusiasm, humming in appreciation as your hips bucked.
“oh god, wally—” your voice broke on his name, fingers tightening in his hair as you came with a shuddering cry, your thighs trembling around his head. he worked you through it, gentling his touches until you relaxed.
he crawled back up, that ever present smirk on his lips as he kissed you deeply so you could taste yourself on his lips. “you okay? that was gorgeous.”
you nodded, eyes hazy with pleasure. “mhm… yeah. i want… i want to go all the way now.”
wally wasted no time kicking off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing free—hard, flushed, pink and leaking at the tip. he was average length but thick, and he stroked himself once, watching your eyes follow the motion. “we’ll go slow. condom?”
you shook your head shyly. “i’m on the pill. and… I want to feel you.”
he chuckled softly, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss. “cheeky thing. came prepared, huh?”
he positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your slick entrance with a soft sigh. the heat was fucking awesome, but so teasing. “breathe for me, baby. relax and tell me if you need a break.”
he pushed in inch by inch, groaning at the vice-like grip of your pussy. he moaned—not a groan—a moan as he bit his lip to try to keep any other dignity-damaging sounds in. his voice was strained with effort when he spoke. “shit, you feel good. so fucking… tight… perfect.” he sank deeper, bottoming out with a shared gasp and then stayed still, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. his forehead pressed to yours as he breathed you in. “you okay? talk to me.”
you nodded, nails digging into his shoulders, a mix of pleasure and the initial stretch making your breath catch. “it burns a little… but don’t stop. feels full. good… good full.”he waited a little. after a few moments, you shifted experimentally. “okay… move. please.”
wally rocked his hips slow and shallow at first, trying to build a gentle rhythm. every thrust drew a delicious little moan from you, your shyness melting into open pleasure. and he was witnessing it firsthand. the drag of your walls was fucking perfect, wet sounds and skin slapping filling the air. he reached between you, thumb circling your clit again, feeling you clench tighter.
“wally… faster,” you gasped, legs wrapping around him.
he obliged, but kept it controlled with deep, steady strokes that hit that sweet spot inside you. swear slicked your bodies, his muscles flexing as he held back. “that’s it. you’re taking me so well. my smart girl… look at you.” wally’s voice was husky, teasing edge softened by genuine infatuation. you were so perfect. he kissed you hungrily, hips snapping a little faster as you started meeting his thrusts, legs wrapping around his waist.
your orgasm hit first for the second time, walls fluttering around his cock, and a broken moan of his name on your lips. you dragged him over the edge with you and he bottomed out, spilling deep inside (he didn’t mean to but he wasn’t fast enough. ironic) groaning your name, his hips stuttering. the orgasm left him boneless, but he stayed buried, kissing your shoulders and collarbone lazily through the aftershocks. he just held you close, gently moving his fingers through your hair and holding you through your first.
“baby, you were amazing. seriously. fuck, that was… worth every second of pining and begging. you feeling okay?”
you smiled shyly, curling into him. “yeah… that was good. really good. can we do that again sometime?”
wally chuckled at your breathlessness and at how that shyness from earlier was nowhere to be seen now. you’re the one asking for seconds? he never would have seen that coming. he gently pulled out with a shudder and rolled over, pulling you against him and sighing. “anytime, bookworm. i’m not going anywhere.”
Could u do a fanfic about a new female character joining the set of stranger things So basically a story about me (not me exactly just like y/n or something) and joe keery on the set of stranger things.at first we don’t really take much notice of eachother but one day when me and other cast members were around the fire after filming I started playing guitar and singing and joe fell in love with me then and there. but im an avoident attachment person and I don’t like to get too close with anyone and i love late night walks and sitting in a field staring at sunsets or just playing music. Joe occasionally starts coming with me on these and we start getting closer and i start pulling away as my avoidant attachment style starts but joe doesn’t give up on me. Its a really really slow burn. Then one day joe tries to get intimate and I reveal i have never done anything like that before and he guides me but then we have our first argument about him flirting with a co star and i burst out crying and try to ignore him but then he gets me alone and doesnt let me go until we have another argument and solve it then one day a co star is flirting with me and joe gets jealous and we have another argument and we don’t talk for days until we both cant take it anymore and find eachother and we make up and we have another moment. Could u please usee other stranger things cast members name (it would really make me happy if u did this u dont have to ofc)
"Sunsets, strings & slow burns"
⋆⭒˚.⋆ Joe Keery x reader ⋆⭒˚.⋆
english is not my language please be kind and sorry if i wrote wrong :) requests are open if you want!
warnings: slow burt, avoidant attachment, fear of intimacy, angst, jealousy
The bright Georgia sun beat down on the sprawling set of Stranger Things as you stepped out of the production van, duffel bag slung over your shoulder.
It was your first day as the new recurring character, Elena, an ally to the Hawkins crew with a mysterious past tied to the Upside Down.
The role had come out of nowhere: a callback that turned into a contract, pulling you from your quiet life into the whirlwind of one of TV's biggest shows.
You kept your head down as a production assistant led you to the trailers.
The cast was already deep into filming Season 5, and the energy was electric but chaotic. You spotted Millie chatting animatedly with Sadie near the craft services table, both laughing over something on a phone screen. Finn and Gaten were tossing a frisbee back and forth with Caleb, while Noah waved at you from afar with a friendly grin. Maya offered a quick "Hey, welcome!" as she passed by with a script in hand.
And then there was Joe, he was leaning against a trailer, hair slightly tousled from a recent scene, talking to Charlie.
You’d seen him in passing during auditions, but up close, he had that easy charisma, laughing at something Charlie said, running a hand through his hair.
Your eyes met for a split second, he gave a polite nod. You nodded back and kept walking. No big deal, you weren’t here to make friends.
Attachment wasn’t your thing; it never had been, people got too close, expectations built, and then came the inevitable disappointment. Better to stay on the edges.
The first few weeks blurred by in a haze of long shoots, prosthetic makeup sessions, and learning lines.
You were professional, polite smiles during table reads, focused during rehearsals with the group. Joe was always around: cracking jokes that had the younger cast members in stitches, high-fiving Gaten after a successful take, or running lines with Millie.
He tried a casual "How's it going, newbie?" once during a break, but you kept your response short. "Good, thanks." so he didn’t push.
You found your rhythm in the quiet moments.
After wrap, while others headed to dinners or game nights in the shared rec area, you’d slip away for late-night walks through the wooded paths near the set. The air smelled of pine and distant rain. Sometimes you’d find a quiet field, sit cross-legged in the grass, and watch the sunset bleed orange and pink across the sky, guitar case beside you. Playing music was your anchor, soft acoustic melodies that no one else heard.
One evening, after a grueling day filming an intense chase sequence, the cast gathered around a bonfire on the backlot. It was Millie’s idea, a way to unwind. Sadie brought marshmallows, Finn had his phone blasting a playlist until someone switched it off for real music. You sat a little apart from the circle, knees drawn up, nursing a water bottle.
"Come on, Y/N," Maya called out, spotting your guitar case. "We’ve heard you humming during breaks. Play something!"
The group chimed in, Gaten clapped. "Yeah! Show us what you got!"
You hesitated, fingers itching despite yourself.
Joe was across the fire, poking at the logs with a stick, his face half-lit by flames, he glanced up, curious but not expectant. Something in the warm night air, the crackle of wood, made you relent. You pulled out the guitar, tuned it quickly, and started strumming an original song, slow, haunting chords about lonely roads and unspoken fears.
Your voice was low and smoky at first, building as the lyrics poured out
The group fell quiet. Millie leaned forward, eyes wide, Sadie swayed a little, Finn whispered "Whoa" to Caleb. But Joe... Joe was staring, really staring. His usual playful smirk faded into something softer, more intense. As the last note hung in the air, applause erupted, you ducked your head, packing up fast.
"That was incredible," Joe said later, approaching as people dispersed, his voice was genuine. "You write that?"
"Yeah, thanks." You zipped the case, already turning away.
He didn’t follow that night but the seed was planted.
Over the next month, things shifted gradually and Joe started noticing your habits.
One late evening, after a sunset you’d watched alone in the field behind the soundstages, you were strumming softly when footsteps crunched the grass. It was him, hands in his pockets, hair messy from the wind.
"Mind if I join? Couldn’t sleep after that last scene."
You shrugged, but didn’t say no, he sat a respectful distance away, silent at first.
Then he asked about the song, you talked a little, about music, not much else. He shared how he missed playing drums sometimes amid the chaos.
The conversation was light, surface-level. Safe.
It became a pattern.
He’d appear on your walks, not every night, but often enough. "Saw you heading out," he’d say with a casual smile. You’d walk side by side through the woods, the cast’s distant laughter fading behind you.
Sometimes Sadie or Millie would tag along initially, turning it into group outings, Millie geeking out over wildflowers, Sadie snapping photos for her private story but more and more, it was just you and Joe.
He listened when you played in the fields, you taught him a few chords one night under a blanket of stars, he was terrible but enthusiastic, laughing at his own mistakes.
"Steve Harrington can fight Demogorgons but can’t play Wonderwall, tragic."
You felt the pull, the warmth of his presence cracking your carefully built walls.
He made you laugh, genuinely, but the closer he got, the more your avoidant instincts flared.
One night after a particularly nice walk where he’d opened up about the pressures of fame, you canceled the next three. Ignored his casual texts checking in. "Busy with lines," you’d reply curtly.
Joe didn’t push hard, but he didn’t vanish either. He’d wave during set, including you in group jokes with Charlie and Natalia.
Slow, always slow.
The intimacy came after months of this dance, filming had wrapped for a week’s break, but many stayed on location.
You were in the field again, guitar silent beside you, staring at a fiery sunset when Joe appeared with two coffees.
"Thought you might want company."
You let him sit closer this time, conversation flowed deeper than usual, your past, his. The way fame isolated him and your fear of letting people in.
As darkness fell, he reached for your hand, you didn’t pull away immediately, his thumb brushed your knuckles, sending sparks up your arm.
Back at your trailer, things escalated naturally, slowly.
Kisses that started tentative, his hands gentle on your waist, you froze when his fingers slipped under your shirt.
"Joe... I’ve never... done any of this before."
He pulled back immediately, eyes soft in the low light. "We don’t have to."
But you wanted to, despite the terror. "I trust you, just... go slow."
He did, guiding with patience and care, whispering reassurances.
His lips on your neck, hands exploring tenderly.
The experience was vulnerable, intense, his body warm against yours, movements deliberate. You clung to him afterward, heart racing, but already the pull-away urge bubbled up, he held you close, stroking your hair.
"That was beautiful. You okay?"
You nodded, but slept little that night.
The first real argument hit a week later, during a cast barbecue, Joe was laughing with a co-star, one of the newer additions playing a minor ally.
She touched his arm, flirty banter flying and you watched from the sidelines, chest tightening.
When he came over later, you were distant.
"You two seemed cozy."
He blinked. "It was nothing. Just talking."
"Looked like more." Your voice was flat.
Avoidant mode: full retreat. You walked away mid-conversation, ignoring his calls.
That night, you skipped the walk, locked in your trailer with music blasting.
Joe found you the next evening in the field. "Y/N, talk to me, don’t shut me out."
You exploded, even if it is rare for you.
"I don’t do this, Joe! I don’t get close and watch people flirt like it’s nothing. I’ve seen it before, people leave."
He argued back, frustrated but not angry.
"I’m not them. That wasn’t flirting, it was friendly. You pull away every time it gets real. I’m here, fighting for this, and you’re halfway out the door."
Tears came then, hot and unexpected, you tried to storm off, but he gently grabbed your wrist, not hard, just enough to stop you. "I’m not letting you run, not this time."
The argument stretched into the night, honest, raw. You admitted your attachment fears, he shared his own insecurities from past relationships in the industry and by dawn, you were curled against him again, makeup sex slow and reaffirming, his guidance even more attentive now that trust had been tested.
Jealousy struck the other way months later.
A male co-star, playing Elena’s on-screen counterpart, started lingering during rehearsals. Compliments on your performance, offers to run lines privately.
One afternoon, he leaned in too close during a break, hand on your shoulder. "You’ve got this quiet intensity. It’s captivating."
Joe saw it all. That night, when you met for a walk, he was tense.
"So, what’s with the new guy? Seems very... helpful."
You rolled your eyes. "It’s nothing, acting."
"Looked like more than acting." His voice had an edge.
The argument escalated quickly in the empty field, accusations flew, your avoidance making him insecure, his jealousy triggering your fears of being trapped.
You didn’t speak for four days.
The set felt colder, one day Millie noticed, pulling you aside during lunch: "Whatever’s going on with you and Joe, fix it. You two are good together." Sadie texted encouragement, even Finn made a dumb joke to lighten the air during a group scene.
The silence broke on the fifth night.
You couldn’t take it, your trailer felt too empty, walks too lonely.
Joe found you at the same time in the field, like magnets.
No words at first, just collision, kisses fierce with pent-up longing.
He pulled you down into the grass, hands everywhere.
"I missed you," he murmured against your skin.
"I missed you too." Tears mixed with the heat.
The makeup was passionate, slower this time, he took his time undressing you under the stars, whispering how much he wanted this, wanted you. Your inexperience didn’t matter; his touch was worshipful, guiding you through waves of pleasure until you both collapsed, spent and closer than ever. He held you as the sun rose, talking through the jealousy and fears. No running this time.
The bond deepened from there.
Late nights with the full cast board games with Gaten and Caleb, deep talks with Maya about music, group hikes where Charlie teased Joe about being "whipped."
You played guitar at more fireside gatherings, Joe always watching with that lovesick look. Your avoidant edges softened, though they never vanished completely. He learned your signals, giving space when needed but never fully letting go.
One final quiet evening, months into the slow burn that had become something real, you sat in the field together. Guitar in your lap, his head on your shoulder.
"You know," he said softly, "that first night by the fire? I fell hard. Your voice, the way you looked at the flames... I was gone."
You smiled, strumming a new melody you’d written about him. "Took me longer but I’m here now."
As the sunset painted the sky, the cast’s laughter echoed faintly from the lot. Stranger Things had brought chaos, monsters, and somehow, this, two people learning to stay.
Summary: You make a love potion for your boyfriend... but it accidentally hits bastard Enzo.
Pairing: Enzo St John x Reader
Genre: Suggestive, Bad boy!Enzo
Word count: >1k
“You ever heard the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for?’’ your best friend asked. “Love potions are tricky things. It might be better if you-"
But you weren't listening. You downed the green sludge, and chanted Jeremy’s name.
Over the last few months, Jeremy had been cold and distant. He avoided your calls, he only showed up at your dorm room at 3AM… You were losing the love of your life.
A week passed, and nothing changed between you and Jeremy. You were heartbroken. The love potion was your last hope, and it had failed.
-
“What the devil?” Enzo said, sitting upright in his bathtub. Water splashed onto the floor.
He had just settled into the hotel bathtub, imagining giving the red-haired receptionist a good railing, when suddenly, he saw your face. It was your dark hair he was smelling, your waist beneath his fingers.
He hardly knew you, for Christ’s sake. You were one of Damon’s friends, some witchy college kid. Sure, you were pretty, but not his type. He liked bad girls, preferably on motorcycles - not uptight best friends with raging moral compasses.
Enzo stomped to the wardrobe and threw on his clothes. Within twenty minutes, he was sweet-talking that receptionist in the back seat of his car. He was kissing her neck, admiring the total absence of a delicious argan oil scent in her hair - when he felt a cold sweat.
HE WAS CHEATING ON YOU.
The thought crashed into his brain like a damn lorry. Apologising to the girl - Becca or Becky or something - he staggered out of the car.
Enzo had to get to the bottom of this.
-
You turned to enter your philosophy class - only to see a leather-jacketed Englishman in the way.
“Apologies, sweetcheeks. We need to talk,” Enzo said.
“Don't you have any innocent people to murder? Where's Damon?” you said.
You nearly got whiplash as he carried you outside the red brick building. You stood there, trying to get your breath back. Enzo was staring at you with intense annoyance. Really intense. You felt yourself blush under his eyes.
“What the hell?” you said, still panting.
“Wasn't I clear enough before? I wasn't asking.” Enzo said, resting both hands on the wall on either side of your head . “You see, I have a problem. I can't get you out of my damn head.”
You laughed. “Oh my god. You're flirting with me. I’ll pass, if that's okay with you.”
“No, sweetheart,” Enzo said. “I don't fancy you, so you can drop the smug grin. I think some witchy voodoo has implanted you in my brain.”
You began to sweat under your T-shirt.
“It's a problem,” Enzo said in a low voice. “You see, I'm something of a lothario myself.”
“Huh?” you said.
“A Don Juan. A Cassanova.” Enzo clarified.
You shrugged.
“I bed a lot of women!” Enzo said. “And this is not exactly greasing the old works, if you know what I-”
You slid out from under Enzo’s arm. You couldn't let him know this was your fault, especially as you had no solution. “Not my problem, sorry!” you said.
In a flash, Enzo was standing in front of you. “Don't go, darling. You won't make it,” he murmured. The threat sounded almost tender. A shiver went down your spine.
You raised your hands and started chanting. Enzo grimaced, sweat beading on his forehead. He slowly sank to his knees before you, gripping his head, which had to be in agony from your spell. A low groan came from his throat.
“Don't mess with me, darling,” you said, exhilarated by your own power, your ability to wipe that smile off Enzo’s face. Feeling naughty, you twisted his perfect hair, ruining it.
You were about to leave, when Enzo’s face changed into a devilish grin. Touching his finger to his tongue, he smoothed out his hair. He was clearly not in pain.
You began to panic. “Why isn't it working?” you said.
“Oh, it's working,” Enzo said, rising to his feet with the ease of a man waking up in the morning. “It's just that fifty years of saying hello to my own organs every morning gave me one hell of a pain tolerance.” He twirled a strand of your hair. “In fact, I like a little pain from a woman.”
You pressed your hands onto Enzo’s chest, still chanting. This was insane. He should have been crying for his mummy by now.
“Ooh,” Enzo said, his eyes closing. “That hits the sweet spot. Now, will you help me or not?”
-
You and Enzo sat on the floor of your dorm room, surrounded by candles. You had your fingers pressed to either side of his head.
“I think I can reverse the spell by entering your mind and finding a real love, strong enough to overpower the false feelings,” you said.
“Your hands feel good,” Enzo murmured. His eyes shot open. “Where on earth did that come from?”
“Ah,” you said. “It's possible that physical touch is making your feelings for me stronger.”
Suddenly, Enzo leaned you onto the floor, his lips inches from yours. You were both breathing fast. Enzo ran one skilful hand down your cheek, then your neck, then your waist. His gaze was worshipful. You had forgotten how good it felt to be touched like that.
“Get the damned thing done before we do something we’ll both regret,” Enzo said, his eyes fixed on your mouth.
You resumed your sitting position. “Now think of the person you most love,” you said, entering Enzo’s mind.
With a shock, you saw yourself and Enzo - but outdoors, in the nighttime. You were sitting on a bench in a knee length yellow dress, and Enzo was next to you in a green army uniform. He knelt and kissed your swelling belly.
“Don't think about me!” you yelled. “Is that not obvious?"
Enzo looked down in embarassment. “Give me a break woman, you're in my bloody mind. Let's try again.”
-
This time, the scene was different, the colours more bleak, more real. Enzo was standing in a stony prison cell. On the outside was a beautiful black woman with short curly hair and ruby lips.
She leaned against the bars. “When will you ask me to marry you, Lieutenant St John?”
He held one of her hands in the gap. “Giving you my name would be the sweetest pleasure of my earthly life. But you know I can't. Not till I get out of this hell hole.”
“You talk like you're going to die in here,” she said. “It's not right.”
He bent and kissed her hand. “I'm immortal, my dove. Don't you worry about me.”
-
Then you were staring into Enzo’s eyes once more, back in your Whitmore dorm room. One tear trickled down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away.
“Who was she?” you said.
Enzo looked at you. “It's worked,” he said. “I no longer feel like ravishing you right here. No offence.”
You rolled your eyes. “None taken. Trust me.” You frowned. “But… what happened to that woman? Did you marry her?”
Enzo got to his feet. “Ancient history, love.”
“Come on. I've already seen inside your head,” you said. “What else have you got to hide?”
“Fine,” Enzo said, crossing his arms. “I'll tell you about her, if you tell me what joker you rustled up that love potion for.”
“Deal,” you said. “So tell me about her.”
Enzo smiled thoughtfully, then said, “The woman you saw was Mags. Maggie. The only woman on this blasted earth I've ever loved. Now, explain why a beautiful girl like you is begging for the attention of some Tom Dick or Harry.”
You smiled awkwardly. “Did you just call me beautiful? Are you sure that spell worked?”
“I'm not in love with you, sweetheart. But a man has eyes,” Enzo said, winking. “Now explain.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was for my boyfriend, Jeremy. I’m not stupid, okay?” you said. “I know he’s treated me like crap. I just… can't give up hope that we could be something special. Is that so wrong?”
“Hope is a dangerous thing," Enzo said. "I spent fifty years in a bloody jail cell, I know.” He rested a hand on your arm. “Hope doesn't fill your belly. Hope doesn't keep you warm at night. It just kills you a little more slowly than despair.”
You gazed at his distant brown eyes, wondering if Enzo still had hope.
“Anyway, I have no idea why the potion worked on you,” you said. “It was unintentional, I swear.”
Enzo held out his hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. The name’s Lorenzo Jeremiah St John.” He grinned. “Also known as Jeremy.”
—
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let me know what you thought on the comments or anon! 💋
Aoi Kunieda 👩🏾 @aoikunieda22 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
