ems୨୧ @dazeyjones - Tumblr Blog

steve and his innocent gf who wants to be put in a headlock when fucking <3

steve’s got you pinned beneath him on the mattress, one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand gripping the meat of your thigh so he can keep your leg hooked high around his waist. he’s been fucking you slow, deliberately slow, for what feels like forever, dragging the thick length of him out until just the tip nudges inside, then sliding back in so deep your breath hitches every single time.

“ohh baby,” he murmurs, “already so fucking gone and m’barely even trying”

you whine, nails digging into the flexing muscles of his back. he chuckles and rolls his hips in a lazy circle that makes your eyes flutter.

“a-ah stevieee!”

“uh-uh.” he dips his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “you don’t get to whine my name like that unless you’re gonna use your words. c’mon, honey. tell me what you want. you can do that, right? or is that pretty little head too full of cock to think straight?”

heat floods your face. he knows exactly what he’s doing, has known since the second you started squirming harder every time his bicep flexed beside your cheek.

you swallow, “i… i want-”

he pulls out almost all the way again, waits. lets the silence stretch until you’re clenching around nothing.

“want what?” he prompts, voice dripping mock sweetness. “gotta say it, sweetheart. i’m not a mind reader. well-” another slow, torturous slide back inside, “i guess i am when it comes to this greedy little cunt, huh? she’s doing all the talking for you.”

your thighs tremble. you can feel how wet you are, can hear it every time he fucks back in. embarrassing. but you’re way past caring.

“headlock,” you finally breathe. “wan’ you to-put me in a headlock. please.”

steve stills for half a second. then a filthy grin spreads across his face.

“ohhh, baby.” he sounds delighted. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re this dumb for me.”

he doesn’t tease you about it, not with words, anyway. instead he shifts his weight, plants one knee deeper into the mattress so he can get the angle right, then slides his thick forearm under the back of your neck.

“like this?” he asks, voice deceptively gentle as he starts fucking you again, deeper now, harder, using the new leverage to pull you onto his cock with every thrust. “this what my sweet little dummy wanted?”

you nod frantically. can’t speak. don’t need to. your mouth drops open on a silent moan.

he hums, pleased. “yeah, i thought so. look at you, y’drooling. can’t even keep that pretty mouth closed anymore.”

the crook of his elbow tightens, just enough, cradling your head, forcing your neck to arch so you’re looking right up at him. his bicep bulges against the side of your face; you can smell the clean sweat and the faint cedar of his cologne. it’s overwhelming. you’re surrounded by him, inside you, around you, above you.

“you like this huh? pretty lil’ cunt loves it?” he groans, pace picking up, hips snapping harder. wet, filthy sounds fill the room. “love being my stupid little thing. can’t think, can’t talk-just gotta take it. just gotta let me rearrange that tight cunt while i hold you exactly where i want you.”

you whimper. try to say his name. it comes out garbled. “st-ohh-st-t-ohh-fu-fu-mmhmphh”

“shhh, i know, baby. i know.” he leans down, lips brushing your forehead, such a sweet contrast to the way he’s pounding into you now. “you don’t have to talk. you’re doing so good just laying there and letting me fuck you stupid. that’s all you’re good for right now, huh? my perfect little cockdrunk girl.”

the pressure of his arm increases, just a fraction. your vision blurs at the edges, pleasure spiking so sharp it almost hurts. you’re shaking. clenching. so close.

“gonna cum f’me?” he coos, voice wrecked and mocking at the same time. “gonna soak my cock while i’ve got you all locked up like this? yeah you are. i can feel it. this pussy’s begging for it. c’mon give it to me. let me feel how dumb stevie makes you.”

you break with a sob, back bowing, thighs locking around him as you come so hard your ears ring. he doesn’t let up, keeps the headlock firm, keeps fucking you through it with long, punishing strokes until he’s growling low in his throat, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with a muttered string of filth you can barely process.

when he finally eases his arm away, he doesn’t pull out right away. just stays there, heavy and warm on top of you, pressing soft kisses along your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“good girl, y’did so good,” he whispers, all honey again. “took me so well.”

you’re still floating. still can’t quite string words together.

he smiles against your skin. “

dazeyjones

this changed lives

bbluesidess

omens and cycles

another bravebyers and wheelwise comic because I’m still obsessed with this concept

stevenose

Hellooooo….. I have Mean!Steve (dub!con…) thoughts to share!!!!

Steve hosts a party at his place and you decide to pre-game to help your shyness. You end up drinking way too much before the party and show up more drunk than anyone. Steve takes note of this and decides to drink less than he normally would. He hands you drinks, keeps an eye on you all night. He mocks your pathetic tipsy state in front of others, rolling his eyes when you wobble unsteadily against his side, clinging against him, as if babysitting you was the worst thing ever.

But when grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his lap on the couch (with such ease btw!) while the party is still at its peak, and coo’s into your ear about how pathetic you are and how easy you must be to use, you realize he is absolutely loving the situation and being in full control of your inebriated mind. Being so sloppy and messy when you’re making out on that couch, whimpering and head spinning as he whispers that you’re so reliant on him and he’ll take good care of you.

And scooping you up bridal style, carrying you upstairs mid-party to rail you in his bed of course!!! Because he’s such a good caretaker!!! Ahhhh!!!

dubcon!! proceed with caution!!; drunk!reader; mean!steve (out of character but whateva); fingering; protected piv sex!!!

anon i want you to know that this has been in my head ever since you sent it <3 like i can’t even really do this idea justice it’s so good. but i tried my best!!!

polinakiska

BFF!Mike Wheeler who…

BFF!Mike Wheeler who slut shames you to the point you second-guess every clothing choice.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who stares into your soul while you talk to other men.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who gently cups your face with both hands right after slapping your cheek.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who makes you believe you deserve to be slapped for making him want you.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who touches himself to the thought of you crying in his arms.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who secretly wishes you’d date random guys just to be left broken for him to fix.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who insists on sleeping on the same bed ‘cause he swears you’re scared of the dark.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who touches himself right beside you as you sleep.

BFF!Mike Wheeler who smears his cum on your lips when he’s done.

___________________________________________________

this is so bad. i really thought i could switch roles and be the writer for once💔💔💔

maaaddiexo

Polaroids

mainlist -> stranger things -> finn wolfhard ->

warnings: all of it. so much fucking teasing i love it, degredation, slut-shaming, slight oral fixation, p in v, oral, fingering, dirty talk, basically more graphic-as-hell porn

Y/N didn’t know when she’d started crushing on Mike Wheeler. It didn’t feel like it happened overnight, but was more of a gradual thing that developed as Mike grew from an awkward, walking target into a tall glass of confidence and nerdy sex appeal. He kept his hair cut short, and he seemed more in control of his long limbs as he walked the halls of Hawkins High. Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas passed where Y/N stood with Max at her locker, changing out her textbooks. When they disappeared around a corner, Max turned on Y/N.

“I dare you to seduce Mike.”

Y/N choked on her cherry lollipop. “What?”

Max nodded, an evil grin on her face. “Yeah. Do it, or I won’t use all those tips you gave me to seduce Lucas tonight and our relationship will crash and burn because you refused to make a move on a guy I know you have a thing for.”

Y/N frowned. “I do not have a thing for Mike Wheeler.”

“You do. But go ahead – lie to your best friend.”

Y/N could lie to a lot of people, but she couldn’t lie to Max. So she changed tactics. “Mike Wheeler doesn’t like me.”

“Y/N.” Max blinked at her. “He’s been crushing on you since I moved here back in middle school. We won’t be seniors forever. Take the guy out of his misery and act on those feelings you have locked up in that slutty little heart of yours.”

Y/N looked at her friend. “You used to be a lot less emotionally perceptive.”

“And then I met you. Come on.”

Later that evening, Y/N and Max walked into the Wheeler house like they owned the place. The boys were arguing about D&D logistics in the basement, their shouting heard from the main floor.

“Five bucks we don’t even watch a movie,” Max muttered, straightening out her new top. It wasn’t some tight, low-cut piece of fabric Stacey Albright would use. This was Max, afterall. The new shirt had a cut down the center of the crewneck neckline, parting ever-so-slightly when she leaned forward, and it was a couple inches shorter, showcasing the tan she got over the summer.

“Quit fussing,” Y/N smacked her hands away. “You look great.”

“Says the girl who’s used to flirting,” Max muttered, pulling open the door. “Speak of flirting–”

Y/N held up a hand. “Yes. I said I would. Screw you and your sudden astute observational skills.” Max rolled her eyes, bounding down the stairs. Y/N took her time, watching her steps on the steep staircase as she descended. Both her and Max had dressed up a little nicer tonight, Y/N trying out the new pleated skirt she’d got. Naturally, wearing it in a basement of all places was a bad idea, but that was all just part of her plan. Besides, the knee-high socks she was wearing would keep her warm long enough.

Taking her time also let Mike look his fill. And look he did. Y/N watched his eyes take their time moving from her ankles to her waist, and then jump to her mouth where she was sucking on another lollipop. Y/N swallowed a satisfied smile and looked away. Maybe there was some truth to Max’s words.

“T.V.’s all set up,” Dustin smiled. “We just need to make the popcorn.”

“Lucas and I will do it,” Max offered. Before anyone could say another word, she was tugging her boyfriend back up the stairs, the door slamming shut behind them.

“God, Mike, why is your basement freezing?” Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, shifting from foot to foot. Freezing was an exaggeration, but so long as it got her what she wanted. “Could I borrow a sweater or something?”

“Maybe it’s cold because you’re dressed like Slutty Cheerleader #3 that’s the first to get murdered in a shitty horror movie,” Dustin snarked from his spot on the couch, not even looking over at Y/N as he dusted chip crumbs off his Hellfire shirt. Both her and Mike glared at the back of his head.

“I’ve got a bin of clean laundry on my bed, Y/N.” Mike smiled down at Y/N. He was a few inches taller than her. “I think I’ve got a sweater or two in there. First door on the left. Help yourself.”

Shit. Y/N had hoped Mike would take her up to his room. But not one to give up at the first hurdle, Y/N nodded and turned around, heading back up the stairs. Just before the door shut, she practically heard Will’s eyes roll.

“Dude.”

“What?”

Just as Mike had said, there was a bin of folded laundry on his bed, the bed unmade. Mike’s room was surprisingly clean – for a guy. A few pieces of clothing littered the floor, and his desk was a mess, but that was pretty much it. He had posters of athletes and D&D memorabilia taped on his walls, and Y/N spied a full-length mirror on the inside of his open closet door.

She found a clean sweater in the bin, and tipped her head back with a groan. The sweater was an excuse. She dropped her head, wondering what she was going to do next, when she spied it. A polaroid camera on his bedside table. Upon checking it, there were four film sheets left. She smiled.

This could work.

She’d just have to wait a little longer.

Idea after idea flooded her mind as she moved to stand in front of Mike’s mirror, but she finally landed on two, and quickly set up.

When she bounded down the stairs five minutes later, declaring she was ready for the movie and absolutely swallowed up by one of Mike’s knit sweaters, she was a hell of a lot warmer. And not just because of the sweater.

She’d officially started playing with Mike Wheeler.

—

After everyone left Mike’s house and he’d rolled up the half-eaten bags of chips, Mike made his way up to his room, flicking on the light and coming to a dead stop. “What the…”

The laundry bin was on the floor. But Y/N had been in his room so that wasn’t too odd. What was odd was that his bed had been made and his camera was sitting dead center. Mike approached it slowly as if expecting it to explode. It didn’t, but when Mike picked it up, he noticed a single film sheet beneath it, face down.

He picked it up.

“Holy fuck.”

Her face wasn’t in it, but Mike knew it was Y/N. Knew it by the curvature of her smooth, long legs. By the slimness of her fingers wrapped around the camera. By the blood red panties he’d caught a glimpse of when she ran upstairs. She’d obviously taken this photo when she’d grabbed a sweater because she was standing in front of his mirror in the photo. And she wasn’t wearing pants.

Holy fuck she wasn’t wearing pants.

She’d slipped on one of his old rock band shirts, the hem stopping at her waist so he could see every inch of the front of her panties. She was still wearing those knee-high stockings, making her look even sexier. And written at the bottom of the photo in black Sharpie–

Do you like red?

Mike fell back on his bed, gripping himself through his shorts.

When he was younger, his crush on Y/N had been an innocent one. But then puberty came, and twisted it into something a little darker. He’d never acted on it – he never thought she’d felt the same and hadn’t wanted to risk losing her as a friend. But Will-the-fucking-Wise had noticed, and had never stopped teasing him about it.

He checked the camera. Two film sheets.

Beyond grateful he had the house to himself, Mike pulled his shorts down and worked on his reply.

—

When Monday came around, Y/N hadn’t spoken to Max about what she’d done in Mike’s room. The girl had been late to first period, slamming into her desk just as the bell rang. The teacher gave her a disapproving look but said nothing, starting the lesson. At lunch, the boys had AV Club and Max had lacrosse practice, so Y/N was left to her own devices. On the bleachers outside, she caught up on schoolwork and started brainstorming some ideas for the photography project her and Mike had been paired up for. Five minutes before the bell would ring to signal the end of lunch, Y/N packed up her belongings and headed inside. She moved through the crowd towards her locker, quickly turning her combination into the lock, frowning when a piece of paper fluttered to the floor.

No. A polaroid.

Y/N froze.

It was face down on the floor, hiding its contents from view. Shoving her lunch in the locker and grabbing her books for third period, Y/N swiped the picture off the floor and scurried for the bathroom, only flipping the sheet when she was locked in a stall.

She should have been sitting down.

It was Mike, but not his face. One leg was laid straight, the other bent at the knee. But what took up Y/N’s attention was his cock, standing straight at attention. The shiny head was an angry red so dark it was bordering on purple, and Y/N wished she could lick at the pearl of precum beading at the slit. His lean fingers fisted the base so hard his nailbeds were white. At the bottom of the image, he’d written his response to her original question, do you like red?

You tell me.

Yes. Yes, he liked red. A lot according to the photo. He must have been in agony if the colour was anything to go by. Y/N wasn’t inexperienced, but she’d never seen a cock so thoroughly teased without reprieve. Her panties felt damp, and her bag heavy with the other photo she’d taken Saturday night in Mike’s room.

Fuck it.

Y/N walked to Mike’s locker slowly, looking both ways down the empty hallway before slipping the polaroid through the slits in his locker, the Sharpie still drying on the image.

I can’t wait to use your photo later.

—

Y/N was playing a dangerous game, and Mike Wheeler didn’t like to lose. Dustin had vented about his sister being allowed to buy a camera but he wasn’t allowed to buy anything until next month because he’d maxed out his allowance already.

Mike had been turning that tidbit of information over in his head every day since. The knowledge that Y/N had bought a camera indicated she planned to continue this game. He locked his bedroom door behind him, moving for the secret hiding spot he’d hidden her two polaroids. It was Wednesday, which meant Y/N would be coming over to work on their project once school was out. He had a spare fourth period while everyone else had class. Usually, Mike would stick around and wait, but not today. He had approximately forty minutes before she was walking through his front door.

He didn’t even bother taking his pants off, just pulling them down far enough to pull his semi out. But the second his eyes focused on the polaroids, he was rock hard. Mike spit in his hand and stroked the shaft, squeezing every few strokes. He closed his eyes, imagining what Y/N’s hand would feel like, and that thought only steered his mind to her mouth.

Y/N was always sucking on those fucking cherry lollipops, lips popping whenever she released it. Mike stroked himself faster. She had to be good at giving blowjobs – she had to be. He’d seen her swirl her tongue around the sphere of sugar, collecting her spit before sucking it back into her mouth.

Thumb swiping over his slit to collect the leaking precum, Mike whispered Y/N’s name. “Y/N.”

Like every night before, Mike didn’t let himself come to the photos. He edged himself to near-completion, glaring at the two photos as if his self-imposed edging were their fault.

He supposed, in a way, it was.

Forty minutes later, after Mike had spat on Y/N’s first photo as he wrenched his hand away before he could come, Mike had a plan.

When the doorbell rang through the house, Mike knew how the next few seconds would play out. Karen would call up the stairs, “Mike! Y/N’s here!” but upon hearing no response from him, she’d send her right up.

Karen Wheeler did exactly that.

When Y/N knocked on the door, stepping in a moment later, Mike drowned in the sight of her in another skirt. She’d worn skirts every day this week and, yeah it had been hot out, but Mike knew that wasn’t why she was wearing them. He fought the urge to shift and relieve some pressure in his crotch, nodding at her.

“Hey, Mike.” She gave him a soft smile, one he knew was meant to lure him in and lower his defenses. Too bad he had multiple days of edgings ruining his mood.

Y/N dropped her bag on the edge of his bed, unzipping it. “I have some great ideas for our photography assignment. I’m thinking we do it on perspective, photographing the same thing from different angles to show how many sides and interpretations an object can have.”

What an insightful topic. Perfect for more than one reason. “Sounds good to me.”

Y/N beamed. “Great. Oh! I, uh, got a new camera. But,” she blushed sheepishly, nibbling at her lower lip. “Could you show me how to use it? I want to make sure I’m using it right for this assignment.”

Her attempt was obvious, but Mike still slid off the bed, letting Y/N see the bulge in his jeans. He took the camera from her hands.

“Your idea about perspective is great. But sometimes it’s hard to move the camera, so you have to move the subject. For example,” Mike snapped a photo of Y/N standing with her hands at her side, flapping the photo after it printed. “You look sweet and innocent in this photo. But if you, say, knelt.” Mike pushed Y/N to her knees, stepping in close and cupping the back of her head to hold her in place as he shoved his crotch in her face. Her hands landed on his thighs, eyes flying up to Mike’s where he was ready.

Click.

Mike pulled out the photo, showing it to Y/N, who was still on her knees with her face inches from Mike’s boner. “You’re still the same, and your sweetness and innocence are still there, but they look different. More…breakable.”

The photo perfectly captured Y/N’s big doe eyes, filled with the perfect combination of surprise, arousal, and innocence. His bulge was clear in the picture and hovered inches from Y/N’s tinted lips. His hand held her head in place, and Mike knew he’d be using this photo as well.

“Mike,” Y/N whispered, hands creeping up his thighs.

Mike tsked and grabbed her wrist. “You think just because you leave me a sexy picture or two that I’ll fuck your cunt when you ask?” Y/N tried to stand, but he pushed her back down. “Here’s the thing, Y/N. I’ve had a crush on you for years. But I’m not an awkward kid anymore. I know what I want. And now that I know you want me, I’m not going to let you go. You wanna play a game? Let’s play.”

Y/N swallowed in apprehension. Mike smirked. “Open your mouth, Little Red.”

Y/N glanced at Mike’s crotch and then did, tilting her head up at him. Without a moment of hesitation, Mike bent down and spat. The loogie shot straight to the back of Y/N’s throat, and she choked. Slamming a hand over Y/N’s mouth, Mike leaned lower. “Swallow it.”

Y/N did, coughing more. “That’s a good fucking slut,” he praised, reaching for his belt. “Put your hands on your thighs.”

Y/N gripped the ends of her skirt, staring up at him. Mike shoved his jeans and boxers down below his ass, pulling himself out. Y/N eyes widened as he fisted himself, stroking himself slowly. Touching himself relieved some pressure, but not nearly enough. He collected the leaking precum on a finger, shoving it in Y/N’s mouth. She sucked eagerly, swirling her tongue around his finger.

“Yeah, Y/N, just like that. I knew you’d be good at this, baby.” Mike fisted his cock, guiding it to Y/N’s swollen lips. “Suck my cock, Y/N, but just the tip. Any more and I’ll take it away.”

Y/N opened her mouth, pulling him in and immediately swirling her tongue again. Mike’s eyes rolled. Fuck, that felt good. She did it again before bobbing her head, lips covering the edge of his head but going no further than that.

“Such a good listener,” Mike pushed some hair out of Y/N’s face, reaching for her Polaroid. “Or you’re just a desperate slut. Are you a desperate slut, Y/N?”

Y/N hummed around his cock, sucking harder. Mike’s hips bucked forward, and he moaned. Through half-lidded eyes, he watched Y/N’s tinted lipgloss transfer from her pretty mouth to his slick cock, flushed with arousal. It wasn’t just the head of his cock that was swollen and angry now – it was spreading down his shaft. Y/N stared up at him, never losing that stupid innocent look on her face, not even as she sucked him off so hard his vision turned white.

“Oh, fuck.” A broken moan slipped past his lips. “You’ve teased me for years, Y/N, but that fucking mouth, mmm, doing such a good job.” Y/N hollowed her cheeks further, tongue darting out to massage the underside of his cock. He fisted the base of his cock and Y/N loosened her lips. Like she could read his mind, she stuck out her tongue and Mike came on her tongue with a guttural moan, ass muscles tightening. Y/N swallowed everything he gave her, even going so far as to reach forward and clean the blunt head gently, peppering it with gentle kisses before tucking him back in.

“Stand up.”

Y/N huffed a soft laugh. “I, uh, I don’t think I can.”

Mike looked down and, sure enough, her thighs were trembling just the slightest. Taking away her control had a bigger effect on her than he’d anticipated. Mike bent down, picking her up by her armpits. She grabbed his shoulders, widening her stance.

“Thanks.”

“Are you wearing red panties today, Y/N?”

Her eyes shot upward. “What?”

God, you’d think she was the one still coming down from an orgasm with how frazzled she was. But no. This was what not getting an orgasm did to her. He backed her into his desk, caging her in. “Are you wearing those pretty red panties for me, Y/N?”

It’s like she doesn’t hear him, eyes still staring up at him. He chuckled, pushing her skirt up himself, fingers grazing the front of her panties. “Blue. I do love blue, but it’s not red.” He dropped her skirt, breath ghosting over her cheek. “Y’know, if you had worn red, I might have torn them off and buried my mouth between your thighs and see how good you tasted. But you wore blue, so…” Mike brought his hand up between her thighs hard and fast, grinning when she bent over in reaction to him slapping her core. He rubbed three tight circles around her clit, ran one long strip down her center to feel her soaked panties, and backed away. “Get the fuck out of my house, Y/N.”

—

Y/N had gone to Mike’s house on Wednesday to work on the project. On Thursday morning before first period, she found him at his locker, pushing herself into his space while he switched out his books. He barely glanced at her. “Didn’t take you long to find me and beg,” he said plainly.

“I’m not here to beg,” she smiled up at him. “See, I don’t like being denied, Wheeler. And what you did yesterday…it makes a girl cranky. But no matter. I’m nice. I’m here to call a truce.”

Mike’s actions slowed and he looked at her curiously. Doubtfully. “A truce.”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded at him, fishing into her pocket. “I even brought you a white flag. Except, well, it’s red.” She dumped it right on the floor of his locker, and she could tell he knew exactly what it was. His eyes turned dark with hunger and intent as they took in the pair of crumpled red panties in his locker. “You seemed so disappointed last night I thought I would make it up to you. Oh, I almost forgot.”

Y/N placed the polaroid on top of the panties, leaning up to whisper in Mike’s ear, “Fuck you, Wheeler.” And she walked away with swaying hips, leaving him staring into his locker at the photo of her in those exact panties, her hands covering her nipples. And written on the bottom–

Bite me, Wheeler.

—

Friday was movie night, when everyone gathered in Mike’s basement for a movie. It had been one week since Y/N took that first polaroid and started this whole war between her and Mike, and he was more than ready to get back at her tonight. He’d glared at her in every class they had together, Y/N smirking gleefully. She’d won that round, and he’d walked around with a boner for the rest of the day.

On Friday before first period, he was surprised to find his locker empty of Y/N’s gifts, and she was nowhere to be found in the hallways.

“Hey, Wheeler.” Max walked up to him, headphones around her neck. She held a familiar piece of black and white out to him. “Special delivery.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Mike growled, snatching the photograph from Max. “She’s got you delivering them too?”

“Delivering them?” Max scoffed. “I’m the one taking the damn pictures.”

As she stalked away, Mike turned the photo over, cursing under his breath at the image. It was a full body shot, and Y/N looked like a fucking angle. She was standing in front of some gauzy curtains, soft light filtering through and making the edges of her look hazy. She was dressed in a pretty white tank top – no bra – and white panties, her hair framing her face. And her eyes? They were those fucking doe eyes that made Mike rock hard.

Do I look pretty?

Mike slammed his locker with a little too much force, stomping his way to first period. He couldn’t wait for movie night tonight when he could even the score.

Already in class was Y/N sitting front row in a pretty little white tennis skirt, as if she’d colour-coordinated her outfit with the picture. Her eyes met his and he worked hard to not let it show just how much her look affected him. She sucked on her cherry lollipop, leaning back in her seat.

“Hey, Wheeler.”

Mike stopped in front of her desk, tapping on it twice. “That’s the second time I’ve heard that today. And the first person gave me something real special. You got anything for me, Little Red?”

Y/N cocked her head, still sucking on the lollipop. “Someone’s greedy.”

The class began to fill, but Mike stayed at Y/N’s desk. “Someone’s making me greedy.”

Y/N only smirked. “Check your locker after lunch.”

The time to lunch dragged, but it finally came and went and Mike ripped his locker open. The picture fluttered to the floor and he eagerly picked it up, leaning against the row of lockers when he flipped it over.

It wasn’t of Y/N. It wasn’t of anything – just a blank white wall and her messy scrawl in Sharpie.

Denial’s a bitch.

—

Y/N knew Mike was going to do something tonight. He’d been staring at her in every class, hand grazing her thigh when they sat beside each other in photography, the lights dimmed low as the teacher clicked through a PowerPoint. Just before the class ended and the teacher flicked the lights back on, Mike leaned in close, firmly gripping her thigh. “Pack an overnight bag. You’re sleeping over.”

Her head snapped to Mike’s, their faces inches apart. “What?”

“You heard me. And wear red. White’s pretty on you, but red’s my favourite colour.”

And because of those stupid words, Y/N was late to movie night. And, thus, so was Max.

“You’ve changed your outfit four times, Y/N.” Max rolled onto her stomach on Y/N’s bed. “And you’ve looked hot in all of them. Let’s go.”

“But–”

Max pushed off the bed, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders. “No buts. He said red. You’re not wearing red. He’s gonna revenge fuck you, and you’re going to live kinkily ever after. The End. Grab your bag. Let’s go.”

There was something about arguing with Max that made it…absolutely pointless. Y/N didn’t know how Lucas did it. She snatched her overnight bag up as Max pushed her through the door and down the hall. Y/N’s dad grabbed the keys from the dish by the front door, locking the door behind them. The drive to the Wheeler house was short but not awkward, Y/N’s dad belting out song lyrics with them all the way there.

“Thanks for the ride,” Max smiled, hopping out first once Y/N’s dad put the car in park. Her fingers wrapped around Y/N’s wrist, tugging.

“Have a great time, girls!”

Mrs. Wheeler opened the door, purse in hand. “Oh, perfect timing! Ted and I are just heading out. The boys are in the basement. Enjoy movie night!” And then she was gone, calling for her husband.

“Evening ladies,” Dustin purred, appearing from nowhere.

“Hey,” Y/N smiled. “Where are we putting our stuff?”

“Downstairs.” Dustin threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave. “It’s basically all set up.”

Mike had turned half of the floor into a giant bed — pillows, blankets, and cushions thrown on the floor. Christmas lights had been strung up, and the coffee table was littered with chip bowls and candy wrappers. Y/N dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs, wiping her hands on the sweater she’d borrowed from Mike last week. She’d paired it with another blue pleated skirt she’d bought (her allowance was taking a hit with the camera and all the skirts she’d bought) and high socks.

Mike turned around at the sounds,eyes dropping to Y/N’s bare legs. Suddenly, Max disappeared. “That’s not red.”

Y/N looked down at her outfit. “There’s red in it somewhere. You just gotta look for it.”

“Oh yeah?” Mike teased the edge of her skirt. “How hard do I need to look?”

Y/N only smirked and stepped past Mike, heading for the common area. Dustin came down moments later, placing the popcorn bowl in the middle of the table. Dustin and Will took one couch, Lucas and Max the other, leaving Y/N and Mike to either share the wide chair or…

Y/N fell into the chair beside Mike, landing partially on his lap. “Sorry.”

“Everyone shut up. Shut up. I’m hitting play.” Dustin turned out the lamp, leaving the group in darkness. They’d picked Raiders of the Last Ark, and while Y/N usually loved the movie, tonight all it did was threaten to bore Y/N to tears. She turned on her side, hand falling across Mike’s lap. He stiffened.

“Relax, or they’ll figure out what’s going on before I can unbutton your jeans,” Y/N murmured into his neck, fingers fiddling with the button.

“Y/N,” he warned lowly, his hips shifting.

“What?” She undid the button and jeans silently, palming him through just his underwear now. “Afraid to get caught?”

Mike exhaled through his nose, sinking further into the chair as Indiana Jones gave his signature smolder. His own hands slipped under the blanket, helping Y/N push his jeans down just enough for her to pull him out, squeezing him. He was already hard, heavy and warm in her hand. When Y/N rubbed her thumb over his head, she felt herself spread the bead of precum over the tip, smiling to herself when he gripped her thigh. He’d been totally in control when he’d made her suck him off the other day, but it seemed the loss of control was as much of a turn on for Mike as it was for Y/N.

“Watch the movie, Mike,” she commanded, hand stilling. He let out a breathy moan, turning his head to face the T.V. but not really seeing. Y/N subtly spat into her hand, rubbing it along his shaft, reveling in the feeling of him hardening further beneath her. She squeezed the base and Mike choked back a gasp, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her thigh.

“Y/N.”

“Do you like that?” Y/N didn’t wait for an answer, twisting her wrist on the upstroke, centering most of her focus on the head, fingers gliding over the underside where she’d learned he was especially sensitive. Every time his hips bucked or twitched, she stopped and waited until he let out a soft groan of desperation into her hair. He squeezed her thigh again, harder this time.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, Mike?”

“Stop.”

“Why?” She smirked, picking up her pace.

Dustin yelled something at the T.V. and Mike turned to look down at Y/N, pupils blown wide. “Because I’ve been edging myself all week and I’m, oh fuck, I’m going to come.”

She gave Mike her best doe eyes and pulled away, pulling her hand back to her lap, sandwiching it between her thighs. “If you insist.”

—

Mike nearly flipped the goddamn coffee table when Y/N pulled her hand away and made no inclination to finish what she’d started. He’d asked her to stop, but he never thought she’d actually do it. But there he sat, cock rock hard and on the verge of exploding while the movie played around them. When he looked over, Lucas’ eyes had rolled to the back of his head, obviously being granted something Y/N was denying him.

Mike glared at Lucas. And then the T.V. for the rest of the movie. When the end credits finally began to roll, Dustin turned the lamp on. “Alright kids. Twenty minute break before Temple of Doom begins.”

Max groaned. “I’m putting my pajamas on.”

“Good idea.” Y/N stretched in the chair, pushing the blanket off her lap.

The boys seemed inclined to agree, and Mike followed the girls upstairs to change into his own pajamas. In the hallway, Max peeled off toward the bathroom and pulled the door shut behind her. Just before it closed, she caught Mike’s eyes over Y/N’s lowered head and gave him a quick wink.

Power thrummed through Mike’s blood as he followed Y/N into his room, catching the door before it could close. His fingers curled around the edge of the wood, his gaze locking onto hers. He was still hard from her teasing over an hour ago, but he wasn’t going to get back at her. She’d won – he was going to have her. Now. But he’d ruin her along the way.

Mike forced himself through the door, shutting it softly behind her, the click of the lock cutting through the silence like a knife. Mike stepped forward until his chest brushed hers. She was barely breathing, pupils blown wide with desire and anticipation. They only had fifteen minutes or so, but Mike didn’t jump into action. He let his eyes wander down her frame, fingers looping a lock of silky hair around his finger.

He’d always thought Y/N was beautiful – long before he had the language for it, before he even understood what a crush was supposed to feel like. Before, it had been simple and easy, something warm that sat quietly in his chest. But as the years passed, that feeling sharpened, growing heavier, more real. Puberty complicated everything, layering want and restlessness over something that had once felt innocent, until it became almost unbearable to carry. He didn’t know if it was love – didn’t really know what love was – but he knew he liked this space they occupied together, this game they were playing. And even with change looming on the horizon, about to tip the balance towards something more spoken and solid, he wanted to keep playing.

Mike glanced at the clock on his desk. He’d spent three minutes looking at her. Shit. He opened his bedroom door, and spoke across the hall at the closed bathroom door. “Max?”

The shuffling behind the door stopped. “...Yeah?”

“Stall.” He didn’t wait for a response, slamming the door and storming back to Y/N. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, throwing her onto the bed. When she made to rise, Mike pushed her down between her shoulder blades until her chest pressed against the bed. With both hands, he pushed the sweater up to her shoulders before yanking her ass into the air by the hips. He flipped her skirt up, inhaling through his teeth at the sight of her red panties, a wet patch at her core. Mike pushed her legs apart, furthering the arch in her back.

“Jesus, fuck. Don’t move.” He snatched his camera off the desk, and snapped the picture, the flash reflecting in the mirror. The dual image of her in real life and her in the mirror was beautiful. She looked completely wrecked, eyes unseeing, and he hadn’t even touched her yet. Mike tossed the camera on the mattress, kissing the round globe of her ass. She pushed back into his face, her moan turning into a gasp when he bit into the soft flesh. He kneaded the other with one hand.

“Been wanting this for so long, Y/N. Dreamed of this.”

“Mike,” she whimpered.

He arched her back further, rolling her hips until that pretty little wet spot nearly faced the ceiling. He leaned down until his mouth was practically on her. “Look in the mirror.”

The moment she did, Mike buried his face in her, mouthing her clothed pussy. He felt her thighs clench beneath his hands, a tortured moan slipping out of her. She rocked her hips back again, eyes half-rolled.

“Eyes on me, baby.” Mike watched her fight to meet his eyes through the mirror, nearly losing to the sensations. “You look so pretty, Y/N. Fuck, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Mike. Please.” Y/N reached back with one hand, but he caught her before she could move her panties to the side and pinned her wrist to the small of her back. She whimpered, fingers curling into nothing. Feeling somewhat merciful, he slipped his hand in hers, squeezing. “Please don’t stop.”

He nipped at the cotton, humming when she gasped. He must have gotten more than fabric. “I won’t, baby. I promise I won’t. Can you be good?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes,” she whined. “I can. I will.”

Mike squeezed her hand. “Keep it there.” He pulls his hand away, lifting his mouth slightly to pull her underwear to the side, wrapping it around the curve of her ass to keep it there. She was swollen and puffy, her arousal smeared all over. Mike reached back for her hand, his other sliding up the back of her thigh, ghosting over where she wanted him. In the mirror, her eyes widened with desperate anticipation. Mike kept his gaze locked with Y/N’s through the mirror as he slid his middle finger through her folds and pushed the digit inside her.

“Yes.” There was something undeniably sexy watching her eyes roll through the mirror, her free hand gripping his pillow. He dropped a kiss on her bum, peppering them up and down the back of her thigh while he added a second finger.

Tighter now, the sound of moving air joined the squelch as Mike fingerfucked Y/N, slowly picking up speed, slowing down when she clenched around him and didn’t relax. A frustrated whine echoed through his room. “Mike!”

He laughed lowly, lips ghosting her skin. “It’s what you get for teasing me with all those photos, Y/N. You gotta pay the price.” He wrenched his fingers out—

“Ohmygo– fuck, Mike!”—and put his mouth on her instead. He didn’t start slow. He assaulted every part of her that he could reach, fingers bruising her thigh. Her hand pulled at his when she jolted in shock.

“Fuck, this pussy tastes like heaven.” He ran the flat of his tongue downward, circling her clit with the tip. Her hips rolled, trying to get closer to his mouth. He let her, sucking on the oversensitive nub until a choked sob broke past her lips.

“Mike.”

“Fuck,” he said against her pussy. “I love it when you say my name like that. So fucking needy.”

“Mike.” The moan was loud and unapologetic.

“Yeah, baby. Just like that.” Her fingers tightened around his as she rocked her body, grinding up against him. Oh, hell yes. “You gonna come, Little Red?” he teased, using his free hand to stroke her clit. He needed her to.

Y/N nodded into the comforter. “Fingers.”

Mike licked a bold stripe up her again. “No. You’re coming on my mouth. Wanna taste you more.” But he did press harder on her clit, rubbing tight, precise circles. Y/N’s hips jerked. Her eyes had begun to glaze over in the mirror, and he knew she was moments from tipping over the edge.

“Mike–”

“I know, baby. Let go.” He pinched her clit and she did, burying her face into his pillows as she screamed, hips jerking towards and away from him. Mike worked her through the orgasm, softening his licks until she was spent, fighting to get away from him.

The clock on Mike’s desk told him they had seven of the fifteen minutes left, plus whatever Max gave them. Plenty of time. Mike reached for his zipper, the sound making Y/N freeze. She was halfway raised on her hands, eyes flying to his.

“Mike…”

“We’re not done yet.” He dipped his chin, making it clear what he wanted. Cautiously, Y/N lowered herself, but Mike saw the excitement in her eyes as she stretched her arms out in front of her, burying them under his pillows. “Look at me, Y/N.”

She met his eyes in the mirror.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy. And I don’t want you to look away. Got it?”

Y/N whimpered, nodding. Mike watched her through the mirror for a second longer, before looking down. Her pussy was a slick mess, red and puffier than before, but he still felt the desire to spread her wider with his hands and spit. It landed right on her pussy, and Mike watched with rapt fascination as she clenched, as if trying to swallow it whole.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Mike smirked at Y/N, who hadn’t looked away, and grabbed the camera. “Smile, slut.”

Y/N didn’t, but her face in the photo was more beautiful than a smile could ever be in that moment. She looked ravished with flushed cheeks and mascara smudged under her eyes. The bottom of the photo caught her bare pussy, his spit shining.

But Y/N hadn’t been ruined yet, and that was Mike’s goal. His cock was flushed deep red, painfully hard at being so neglected. It was slick with precum, but Mike still ran it through Y/N’s folds, coating it with her cum and arousal.

Click. Another photo.

“Mike.” A pointed huff mixed with a subtle shift of her hips.

Mike smiled, checking out the photo as it developed. “Our photography project is gonna be fucking amazing, baby.”

“You are not showing Mr. Wright a photo of my pussy.”

“You’re right.” Mike tossed the camera and photograph aside. “This pussy’s all mine.” He pushed in steadily, not stopping until he’d bottomed out.

“Ohmygoood…Mike.”

Oh my God was right. Y/N was tight, resisting him in the best way while he’d pushed in inch after inch before finally stretching for him. His ears rang at just how snug she felt, clenching around every inch of him. His fingers dug into her hips hard enough to hurt and finally – finally – he moved.

Mike pulled out nearly all the way before snapping his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt again.

Y/N screamed. It was choked and wrecked and everything Mike had only ever dreamed of hearing. He did it again and again, pounding into Y/N with years of unrequited feelings and lust. He’d dreamed of fucking Y/N in just about a hundred positions, and this was only one and it felt amazing.

“Oh. Fuck, Mike.”

“You feel so good, Y/N. Such a good fucking slut.”

Y/N sobbed. “…Slut.”

“You like it when I call you a slut?” Mike propped a foot on the bed. “Fuck you like the slut you are?”

“Yes. God, yes!”

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good.” Mike’s head tipped back in ecstasy, eyes closing. The feeling of her stretching around him as he thrust inside her, the sound of skin slapping, all the denial he’d been through the past week. “My slut does such a good job of milking my fucking cock.”

Click. Mike’s eyes snapped open. Whirrr went the Polaroid as it printed the film. He could only imagine the image as the camera slipped through Y/N fingers at a particularly rough thrust, her back arching with a gasp.

“Shit, Mike,” she breathed.

“Don’t be quiet,” he cooed, his hips rolling. “Wanna hear you.”

“Make me.” Even with his cock buried inside her, she found it in her to fight. She pushed her hips back into his, gasping as he hit her cervix. “Jesus. Fuck.”

Adjusting his grip on Y/N’s hips, Mike angled deeper, setting a punishing pace that tore a gasp from Y/N with every hit to her cervix. “That’s better. But I want more. Scream for me, baby.”

“Make me scream,” she threatened, but her voice was breathless and it came out more like the beg he knew it was. Mike chuckled, continuing to thrust in and out of Y/N as he reached for the camera with one hand and her hair with the other, gathering it at the base of her neck and giving it a testing tug. “Eyes on me.”

Mike didn’t think Y/N could with the way her whole body had begun to tremble. Still, she raised her head, glossy eyes finding his in the dirty reflection, her arms under her chest and his sweater bunched around her shoulder. Mike tugged firmly on her hair, pulling Y/N’s head up and baring her throat.

Click.

“Mike, I– fuck. Please don’t stop.”

“You gonna come?”

Y/N’s lips parted, eyes rolling. “Uh-huh.”

“God, you’re falling apart. Such a fucking slut. Good sluts get permission.”

“Please!” Y/N cried, tears welling in her eyes. “Fuck, Mike. Please let me come. I wanna come all over your cock. Pleasepleaseplease.”

Mike’s heart beat in time with the sound of skin slapping and Y/N’s harsh pants. He felt that familiar tightening at the base of his spine. He had maybe a minute, but Y/N was chanting underneath him like she had seconds. He fought to keep his thrusts consistent – deep, hard, fast.

Punishing.

He fucked her hard enough to bruise. To ruin.

“You know what I want.”

“Mike!” The scream tore from Y/N with a vengeance, her fingers clawing for purchase in his sheets. Her entire body locked beneath him as she came, clenching around Mike so hard she nearly pushed him out. Her walls fluttered and her back arched and Mike had never seen something so beautiful. He pushed himself closer to the edge, hips threatening to stutter.

Mike’s head fell back again, his pending orgasm about to take him under. “Shit, Y/N. M’gonna come.”

Fingers dug into the flesh of his ass, pulling him tighter. Y/N watched him, eyes barely open. She was way past overstimulated, her lips parted. She squeezed, her message clear. Mike’s eyes rolled and he used the last of his energy to bury himself to the hilt in Y/N’s flooded cunt, groaning his release. His vision went white as he came, Y/N’s walls still fluttering around him. When his vision finally cleared, Y/N was panting hard beneath him.

He pulled out slowly but Y/N still hissed, hips jerking. Her ass still in the air, he watched her pussy clench, pushing out the milky white of his release. Yeah, he was gonna need to memorialize that.

Click.

Mike threw the camera on the bed, gently lowering Y/N’s thighs to the bed, kissing up the back of one, over her bum, and up her spine. When he got to her neck, he pressed one solid kiss there, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Such a good slut.”

nobodys-s0n

‎✧˚₊‧ frat! steve making you ride him with his hat on!

you don’t know when you first got on him, you’re not even sure how he got into your bed in the first place, but all you could think about was steve harrington’s girthy cock thrusting in and out of you.

your body was lifting itself, hands on his chest with the bed creaking and squealing with every movement that you made, bouncing on his cock. each bounce on him made his cock go deeper, his bulbous tip kissing your g-spot with each drag up and down your walls.

he had that shit eating grin on his face, his hands behind his head as he watched you, whimpers and groans leaving his mouth.

“god baby, you look so fucking pretty, just bouncing on my dick…” he praises, biting his tongue as his cock twitches inside your tight cunt.

you moan louder and louder, matching the bed’s noises as sweat beats down the side of your head, hair sticking to your forehead as you found yourself closer and closer to your orgasm.

“steve! steve… oh f-fuckkkk.” your nails dig into his chest, thumbs brushing against his chest hair as your knees buckled, thighs clenching around his hips.

you never imagined the frat bro you always hated would feel so fucking good, but here you are!

steve chews on his bottom lip, half-lidded eyes watching you as your breasts bounce and sway in his face, his back arching a little at a particularly good thrust. "got such perfect boobs baby... pretty body for a very pretty woman... here, let's make you another level of sexy..."

your eyes roll back as his cock drags up and down your clenching walls, eyes closed and ears full of static.

meanwhile, steve's fingers play with the band of his hat and before you could guess, the feeling of a snapback was placed on your head, a little big on you but he clipped it to where he knew it would fit your head. some of his hair strands were in the hat, steve moaning low as the fishnet of the hat covers your hair, the hat slightly tipping with each bounce.

"there you go... sexy sexy fucking girl." he coos, his left hand going to your hip as his right hand goes upwards towards your neck. he cups your cheek and makes you look at him, his thumb dragging on your bottom lip.

"s-steve... oh goddddd... s'so big..." you whimper, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed.

he smiles, tapping his finger on your cheek as he watches the hat tilt back and forth. "i know it's big, but you're taking it just fine... now who's your daddy?"

"y-you are, steve." you whimper, a little bit embarrassed but mostly too cock drunk to even care at this point.

his smile becomes bright as he nods. "that's my good girl."

click here for main masterlist!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: a little sloppy but god damn, vol 2 knew damn well what they were doing putting steve in that fuckass baseball cap. it's so giving frat bro! steve, especially that scarf.

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

aglionbyacademia

so I finally read and watched Daisy Jones & The Six

alliecathayes

BILLY DUNNE, DAISY JONES, GRAHAM DUNNE, WARREN ROJAS, KAREN SIRKO, EDDIE ROUNDTREE in Pittsburgh

Daisy Jones & the Six | (2023)

wife-of-all-dilfs

what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

libertyybellls

RIDE COWGIRL !

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; a slow kiss with finnick has a twist of fate.

contains; SMUT!! mdni. riding, small innocence kink, size kink, established relationship, takes place pre- third quarter quell.

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

it was a cozy night in, finnick had been laying in bed with you on top of him, stroking your hair as he read his book.

targaryenluvs

OH BABY!

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader, young!naive!tribute reader

summary: finnick found you to be as cute as ever. but you aren’t exactly the smartest in the room according to him. luckily, finnicks more than happy to help his sweet baby succeed, and he will not let you forget him.

warnings: AGE GAP (18 - 23) smut, FILTH THIS MAN IS DOWNBAD, possessive, corruption, pervy finnick, violent thoughts/intrusive, exhibitionist? degradation, oral (m & f), p in v, overstimulation, praise, mirror kink? spanking 👀 rough sex? tummy bulge, my first time writing smut be kind 😭

word count: 5k - this is literally the longest fic ive written.

a/n: this is what happens at 6am and i can’t sleep, thoughts are thunk - massive thank you to @motelofmermaids and @lust4lore for their help with reading and writing!!!

taglist: @coolchick333 @doublesideeye

forevermoreharrington

The way you call me "Baby" - S.H

Steve Harrington x female!reader

A/n: Steve’s been so patient with his girl but he just can’t take it anymore and neither can she, soft!Steve, hopelessly in love, smut

Warnings: 18+, strong language, virgin!reader, penetration (unprotected), use of 'baby and good girl', light choking

Word count: 2.4k

She’d always been Steve’s girl, even when she wasn’t, that’s just what he would call her. He knew in his heart the second he met her he didn't want or need anyone else, he just wanted to be able to call her his.

theemporium

Can I request 40 and 49 in the smut list for Robin? Desperate for some good Robin smut i’ve read it all

ahh thank you for the request! sorry its short but hopefully i can write some longer smut for robin!!🖤

40. “this isn’t what i had in mind when i yelled fuck you”

49. “shut up and pin me down”

It was funny the situations that alcohol could get you into. Maybe spouting embarrassing comments in front of someone you didn’t mean to expose yourself to. Maybe doing something stupid that you’d never do whilst sober. Or maybe something as simple as being a clumsy mess that chips away at your dignity.

Alcohol just has a funny way of putting people in situations they usually wouldn’t find themselves in.

And for you, it happened to be underneath the girl that you had labelled your sworn enemy since the sixth grade.

dazeyjones

holy guacamole

luvsbyherblogs

Can you please grace us with some dom!Robin headcanons?

more dom!robin headcanons

description: can never go wrong with dom robin headcanons, can you?

warnings: smut (18+), fingering, use of strap-on, oral, use of the word ‘slut’,

pairings: robin buckley x reader

word count: 2,125 words

a/n: i shall do the gracing of dominant robin headcanons!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

she’s always so gentle with you, caring and always considerate with what exactly you’re feeling when she’s touching you.

and she’s always touching you, with her arms tight around your waist and her head pressed between the warm skin of your neck, light kisses and dark marks seconds away from showing.

robin is nothing more or less than a tease, she knows how to push your buttons, how to make you want her in the most inconvenient times.

her touch is nothing like you’ve ever had before. robin’s slender fingers reach deep depths that send strikes of pleasure throughout your body no matter the time. the curve of her fingers serves as a sensation shocker, leaving your legs shaking for days.

she uses that to her advantage.

a simple kneed of her hands between your thighs in the middle of the night and you’re all hers, legs spread as she skims her fingers over your clit. ass pressed against her front, her neatly manicured fingers swarming around your tongue.

all robin wants to hear are those pretty sounds you make while trying your absolute hardest to stay calm and collected.

“c’mon, don’t keep so quiet hunny. i know it feels good, talk to me.”

her raspy voice doesn’t help your case either, everything about this girl can have you undone in mere seconds.

sweet nothings laced with double meanings are robin’s forte and just another one of her many spells to have you keen for her.

robin loves having you grind your bare pussy on her leg. moving your hips forcefully and watching closely as your cunt drips juices all over.

whimpers of you begging for her to keep going or of how good she’s making you feel only spurs her on.

you whine and she moves faster, her lips pressing kisses and tongue licking at your sensitive neck. overthrowing your body into way too many sensations, until you’re coming right on her leg.

she’ll have you lick her clean, guiding your head gently but firmly as if she’s having you eat her out.

“go ahead, get down there and clean up your mess.”

and heed my warning when i say don’t look at her with those desperate, and begging eyes unless you want her to tongue fuck you into next friday.

giving head is robin’s territory, so expecting to go one night without her skillful tongue and short brown locks between your legs is just plain stupid.

“taste so good, all for me. only mine.”

she’ll pull your hands to her head, making you tug and pull at her hair until she’s whimpering over your clit.

of course, the girl is possessive. she can’t have such a prize running away from her, not with how much she loves pleasuring you.

robin would never admit the true reason for her love of domming you, oh that would be too embarrassing for the sweet girl.

for you to know that she loves touching you in these ways so much because it means she’s the one giving you all your pleasure.

it’s a rare occasion to have robin fuck you with her pretty pink strap-on, but when she does it’s like heaven on earth.

you’re all drooling and rambling with your face pressed against a mound of pillows, your hair grasped in her hand while she whispers dirty words in your ear.

“don’t want you to cum yet, hold it…please?”

you know robin is teasing you, feigning politeness as if she wasn’t pounding into you the way she currently is.

lewd noises of lovemaking filling any room you both decide to fuck in.

living room; with you bent over the arm of the couch while she licks at your dripping pussy from behind. nails scratching like a disobedient cat.

“say it baby, use your manners…‘pretty please’…see it’s so easy.”

dining room; arched back against the table as she finger fucks you. opposite hand tight around your neck, but you don’t quite care about breathing or your lack of.

“such a dirty girl. you love every second of this, such a slut.”

laundry room; for the times you both crave the extra sensations or must stay quiet when a guest is around. as much as robin hates seeing you so silent, she loves seeing that pretty face of yours turn to pleasure. you’re all lip-biting and mouth-covering, but it’s no use anyways.

“c’mon. you’ve gotta be quiet if you wanna cum for me. can’t disturb our guest, baby.”

bathroom; with a jealous robin watching as you use the shower head for pleasure rather than her. luckily, punishment comes soon after and you don’t regret what you’ve done after the way she completely ravishes your cunt with the infamous bright pink dildo.

“taking me so nicely. do you hear yourself hunny? god, you sound so pretty.”

front door; calls for just as desperate measures, only for times when you either just can’t wait to head to the bedroom after robin has just come home for work or if you can’t bear to let her leave without a kiss or two. those kisses turn to secret touches which turn into clothes being dropped on the floor and robin being late for work, her name heavily used upon your lips. body pressed firmly against the door and legs wrapped around robin’s hips while your head is thrown back to the gods. her fingers flicking at your clit with eagerness, not daring to enter your slick cunt as she continuously edges you.

“such a pretty pussy, all wet for me. just couldn’t wait, huh? now you have no choice.”

you’ll both be at it for hours, robin fucking into you like you’re her own personal fuck-toy.

you are robin’s fuck-toy and she knows it with how you wrap your legs around her hips and beg her to use you.

oh, how robin loves to use you. she could watch you flail around while bouncing on her bright pink cock for hours, forcing you to nip and suck at all the sensitive parts of her body.

and it would be so impossibly hard because the way she angles her hips causes the phallus to brush against your walls in the most delicious ways. you can’t suppress all the sounds dying to fall from your lips.

robin knows it’s hard, she knows that each time you try to kiss her swollen pink lips you’re too busy thinking about all the good ways she’s making you feel.

“kiss me baby, why are you stopping? i know you can do it.”

her hands doing nothing but distracting you as they caress your warm skin, rolling your hardened nipples between her fingers and rubbing softly at your slick, puffy clit.

“you can’t even stop for just a second to kiss me. does it feel that good? am i fucking you that well?”

all her questions make your head spin and for the first time in forever, all you want her to do is shut up, because you want her tongue, fingers, and cock between your legs all at the same time.

even if it’s impossible, you selfishly want it all anyways.

both you and robin will never forget the day she managed to snag some weed from eddie munson. you’d begged her to try another taste at being high ever since the entire situation with the russians.

turns out robin becomes extremely horny when high. you take this to your advantage, sitting on her lap and slowly grinding down. not enough for her to call you out on it but enough for her to notice through the high.

she sits calmly against the couch, her legs spread just enough for you to slot yours between one of hers. robin’s blue eyes open from their closed placement, a gentle smirk on her face as she peers at you. eyes eating up every slow movement of yours.

she takes a hit of the joint, blowing the smoke into your face.

“something wrong? you seem…antsy.”

a raspy laugh leaves her lips when you don’t respond, although your pace quickens.

panties already soaked from all of your arousal. robin knowingly bounces her leg and you close your eyes, breathing heavily. trying your hardest not to break cover, trying not to come.

robin bites at her lip when your knee is pressed up against her cunt, shorts hiked up to wear she can feel each and every press of your leg.

“keep going baby.”

you don’t listen, your movements stop suddenly.

robin sighs, annoyance and frustration apparent in the way she glares at you.

“i told you to keep going.”

sometimes it’s a curse that you have the luxury of knowing the hottest woman alive. your heart nearly stops as she speaks.

the joint is being huffed on once again, robins nimble fingers pinching the tiny clip. her pink lips purse around it, icy eyes looking down up at you from the tops of her lashes.

she intimidates the hell out of you, there’s no lying about that. you almost throw your entire plan out of the window, wanting nothing more than for her to fuck you on the couch.

she’d be rough with you too, you know that all too well. all the touching and fondling you’re doing has her pent up, you can tell.

instead, you slither to the floor on your knees. keeping deep eye contact while robin watches you with pure curiosity.

shyly, you’d tug at her shorts bringing them lower and lower.

“oh, this is what we’re doing?”

until finally, the piece of clothing is around her ankles. robin clumsily kicks them off before you welcome yourself back to her lap. slotting your legs once again between hers.

panty-covered cunt pressed against the bare skin of her thigh.

“wanted to feel me closer, hmm?”

you nod hesitantly but robin isn’t having it. her stare is kind but demanding and you already know what she expects from you.

“use your words. talk to me.”

only through about two words, robin’s hands slither to your waist. when it appears as if you’re going to stop speaking, robin cranes her head. silently telling you to go on.

the sneaky brunette rocks you against her, pulling your body impossibly closer. even going as far as to sit at the edge of the couch, giving you the ability to push closer together.

the action minimally catches you off guard and a silent gasp falls from your lips. robin smirks, knowingly.

“as you were saying?”

robin urges more words out of you. it’s hard, and you can barely think of anything more to say. she’s purposely making you talk, just so she can snatch the words off your lips.

mid-sentence and robin bounces her leg against your pussy, a wet slushing sound following closely after and her grin only widens. she notices you faltering, trying hard to keep your low eyes open.

the rocking and bouncing becoming too much. you bounce over your own words, pathetically.

“robin…please.”

you gasp breathlessly.

it’s almost embarrassing how easily stimulated you are, even with the thin layer of your underwear.

through all of your pleasure, you don’t even notice how enamored robin is becoming. her clit quivers at the mere sight of you discreetly riding her thigh.

“do you hear yourself? my god, i can’t take it.”

she pulls a hand to her mouth, licking over two fingers while eyeing you down the entire time. she then brings the digits to her slick cunt. as if she really needed the extra lube.

her next set of words almost throws you over the edge.

“go ahead. make yourself cum all over my thigh, pretty girl.”

robin leans in to kiss your bitten lips, you reciprocate the action the best way you can. even if your low moans make it nearly impossible to truly kiss back.

the words of endearment spilling from robin’s lips leave you dizzy, head spinning and searching for stability.

“so pretty fucking yourself on my thigh like that.”

robin oftenly finds herself calling you pet names out of the english language. she told herself back in sophomore year that she would incorporate french, spanish, italian, and russian in her speech more.

so she does, while fucking you. a whisper in your ear, while her fingers pump creamy slick from between your legs.

and you never know what it is she’s saying, either from not being able to comprehend her words when she’s fucking you so well or from simply not understanding.

she always makes sure you know what she’s said by the end, licking at her fingers after you’ve finished several times. a teasing smirk that makes you squeeze your legs together.

suddenly you’re thanking the stars for sending such a goddess of a girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

hard-candy-writing

all mine

older!jealous eddie munson x reader

summary: you really, really shouldn't be at his trailer. not this late, not dressed the way you are, and certainly not after dating another man. but eddie makes sure you don't regret it -- and know just who you belong to.

warnings: 18+, minors dni. afab!reader. age difference (reader is in their early twenties, eddie is in his late forties). dick piercing (prince albert, god i hate that name but unfortunately that's what it's called). slight choking, squirting, p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk. use of nicknames like baby, sweetheart, and little girl. dom!eddie.

a/n: you can blame @quinnsbower for what follows, them and their fucking... intoxicating fic about older!eddie and carver!reader... that shit should be illegal so everyone thank luna for doing god's work, please!!

The trailer park was full of characters. The grouchy elderly woman who tended to a flower box full of dying petunias and the sixty-something construction worker with a Pomeranian had made themselves known, among other unsavoury and odd residents. Strange as they seemed, you tried to approach them all with some sympathy. You lived here, after all. And though you didn't have your Christmas lights up all year long like the couple next door to you, you felt pretty secure in your status as certified trailer trash.

It was a community. Not many people there chose to live in trailers, and those who were wealthy enough to embrace van life out of desire instead of necessity never stayed very long; always searching out new, exciting vistas for their travel blogs, never wanting seconds of the construction worker's beer can chicken or listening to the old woman go on about how she has a whole garden of vegetables out back. They denied the rough outward image of it all, so they lost the privilege of Friday night potlucks. Of laundry being done in exchange for a car being fixed, or of free eggs being given out for keeping quiet about the very illegal chicken coop on the southern end of the park.

And they missed out on Mister Munson's weed. In your opinion, that was the best part.