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orbitariums · 4 months

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home this christmas | carmen berzatto x black reader smut

happy christmas! wrote this in a pinch, hope u love

also, all my steve rogers fic readers— what say i finish up girls on film over winter break? just for shits and giggles. enjoy!

the drive to your family’s heirloom brownstone in brooklyn was almost impossible as you and carmy took turns navigating the snowy roads and the panic attack that was new york traffic during the holidays. it would’ve been absolute agony if you weren’t right by your lover’s side and didn’t have tons of r&b christmas classics blasting through the entire time. at the first hotel, the two of you were too exhausted to even talk to each other, but carmen’s arm still found its way around your waist like something of an unconscious mechanism. you had to smuggle yourself free in the morning. by the morning, the two of you were determined to finish up the four-hour drive and make it home for christmas.

no time for rest though. the minute you and carmy stepped in, you were bombarded with the sound of luther vandross belting christmas classics. the smell of good cooking — candied yams, sweet potatoes, collard greens, and glazed ham- overwhelmed your senses. any tension that had built up on the road was immediately released the moment you walked in, carmy holding a huge crate of ingredients that he would use to make chicken piccata.

“cuzzo!” squealed janae, your favorite girl cousin, and a recent howard u grad, as she ran up with her arms opened wide like a snow angel etched into the snow.

“hey boo,” you grinned, basking in the warmth of her hug. you held on for so long— halfway through today’s trip, carmy’s car heat stopped working and the both of you had to opt for multiple blankets and layering up in all the coats and scarves you could find, plus whatever slightly warming object was in the back of his trunk.

“hi baby, hi carmen. merry christmas!,” your mother, hustling over to the sink with a large pot full of hot water cooed out.

“merry christmas, ms. __. so good to see you, can i help you with that?” carmen asked, setting down his crate and heading over to your mother, getting straight to business.

“carmen, you know to call me denise,” your mother nagged, waving her hand at carmen dismissively. “what i keep telling you about that?! you’re family. now leave me alone and ‘gon get started with your little chef shit over there.”

carmen smiled, that deep dimple sinking into his cheek that made you fall in love with him all over again each time you saw it.

“yes ma'am,” he relented.

“ooh, your man is so fine, yn,” your sister announced as she walked into the kitchen. “and a gentleman, but we been knew that. hey, carmy. it’s good to see you, boy.”

“yeah, good to see you, too. how’s uhh— how’s benny?”

your sister scoffed,

“stupid, as always. and he don’t even cook. hey, yn!”

your sister laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“home sweet home,” you grinned, jumping right into the business of the kitchen.

the rest of the day was chaos, but the kind you could only ever love. if anything, carmy preferred this chaos to that of his family’s thanksgiving and back home. this chaos felt organized and loving, not to mention hilarious. it took so long to convince your family that carmy could really cook, but once they finally met him just a few months before and he put down a peach pie like never before, they could not shut up about how fine and talented your man was, and how he was one of the good ones.

today, the same routine. this time, watching carmen cook for your family in your family home revved up a stir deep inside of you that would linger on your mind for the entire afternoon. everywhere you turned you couldn’t help but eye him — his big arms, littered with tattoos, flexing as he stirred a pot of mashed potatoes; the way his brow dug into his forehead with concentration as he definitively scattered parsley over the chicken; his tongue darting out to lick the side of his lip when he was focusing deeply on something.

for the first time in the past 24 hours, you were practically separated from carmy. he was focusing on his dish and tending to the demands of the practically all-female kitchen (no men were allowed, bar for carmy and your aunt’s husband), so he didn’t get to talk to you, doubly engrossed in your christmas dinner duties, much either. though the times that he could sneak away or had to pass by you, he reassured you with a light squeeze around your hips or a hand on the small of your pack as he got by you. unbeknownst to him, it was only feeding the stir that was increasing by the hour between your thighs, and polluting your mind with the most unholy thoughts.

the air was thick with flour, smoke, and the smell of a grand dinner by the time you all were finished cooking. while you let the food cool, you opened gifts. carmy had something for everyone in the family, even your baby cousins, nieces, and nephews. by the end of the gift opening, everyone had agreed that carmy was their new favorite.

“merry christmas, baby,” carmy muttered against your lips, pulling you in for the first kiss you had shared for a few hours now. he placed your gift in your lap.

“merry christmas,” you smiled against his lips, which tasted like sweet wine and marshmallows, as you pulled away.

“c’mon now, what’d he get you?” your aunt hollered from her seat, clapping her hands together joyfully.

you grinned, sloughing away the paper, which was wrapped to perfection, just like everything carmy dared touch. you nearly squealed when you saw the box: black and white with big bold letters: chanel.

“baby, you did not,” you whined, frowning as you looked over at carmen. again that dimple reappeared and it took you everything not to jump his bones. he stroked his hand with his chin in that pensive way of his, his smile sheepish and yet smug.

“open it.”

you opened it slowly as if you were scared. then you practically tore it out of the box when you saw just what it was — the metallic pink chanel bag you had liked just once on instagram, posting it on your story with the caption “need.” you didn’t expect anything to come of that, and yet, here carmy was, going above and beyond to keep up with your expensive and exquisite taste. you couldn’t help but screech in excitement, waving the bag in the air while you stuck your tongue out.

“y’all look what my man got me!”

“my man, my man, my man,” some of your cousins echoed, humored, in the background.

the entire living room practically erupted with noises of affirmation and disbelief from your family.

“girl, let me hold that for you!” your cousin janae pleaded jokingly.

you broke out into a little dance on the couch, ending it with another kiss planted on carmy’s lips, pulling away with a loud smacking noise.

“you really didn’t have to, baby. i love you.”

“i love you. that’s why i did it,” carmy grinned, his eyes boring deep into yours, promising his love to you.

“i just know that’s right,” your mother called out.

dinner was active and loud, as always. carmen’s chicken piccata barely lasted, and folks were starting to compare it to your aunt’s famous fried chicken, but carmy shut that down immediately.

“nah, don’t get me in trouble,” he smirked, holding the plate you had made for him.

there was something so indescribably sexy about watching him just standing there. that he was so easily integrated with your family, so helpful, and charming enough to please your own mother and father had you weak in the knees. not to mention the insane gift. he told you he’d been saving up for a few months ever since he saw you post that, and that only made your heart melt more.

when carmy wasn’t so in his own head, he was a man of true, deep intention. you were the one who brought him back to homeostasis, to equilibrium. his mental state seemed to clear of all the “bad shit” when he laid his head on your chest, on your lap, your hands figuring their way through the ringlets of his curly hair.

“yeah, don’t get him in trouble,” the aunt in question echoed as she walked past.

“don’t worry aunty, i still like your fried chicken better. sorry baby,” you awarded carmy an apologetic kiss on the lips. “but i stand on my shit.”

“as you should,” carmen nodded, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “you like other things about me better though, yeah?”

that last part came as a low murmur against your ear, his lips just barely brushing against the lobe. the words, in tandem with his warm, familiar breath fanning against your neck, made you squeeze your legs together involuntarily. you could practically taste the wine on his lips and it made you dizzy. the stir that had been brewing inside of you for an entire day now was now changing pace, becoming quicker, more violent. if you didn’t fulfill your needs soon, you’d overflow.

you smiled to save face in front of your family, squeezing carmen’s hand as if to say “later.” but god, later couldn’t come fast enough.

the rest of the night you were glued to carmen, practically hip to hip. you sat on his lap while your family talked around the tree, and he made sure his hands caressed your thighs ever so softly, just enough to keep you reeling from his trickling touch. you wanted him to squeeze, wanted him to sink his palms into you and then some.

it wasn’t until nearly midnight that people started to pile out, and only then did you find it appropriate to head upstairs with carmen, bidding adieu to your family.

“aww, it was so good to see you yn, and you, carmen. what a blessing you’ve been to this family,” crooned one of your aunts as she also made her way out the door.

“blessed to be here. thank you guys for welcoming me, seriously. i couldn’t be luckier, holy shit. excuse my language,” carmen rambled,

the words spilled out with ease because of the wine and because he genuinely felt this way. his whole life, he’d been blessed with found family, reminding him that sometimes water could be just as thick as blood. and when you came with the package? he’d never let go.

people began to peeter out late into the night, and by the time everyone was gone, only then was it appropriate for you to bring carmy upstairs to get ready for bed.

both you and carmy spilled out a few more jokes and goodbyes before you took carmy by the hand and led him upstairs. as you were walking up there, it hit you that it was his first time being in your childhood room. you only ever stayed here when you were visiting, so it still had a very y2k theme to it that you hadn’t changed since high school. a poster of lil kim with her legs spread was plastered on your walls, along with nsync, backstreet boys, and a couple other 90s-2000s classics. you still had a half-used bottle of juicy couture viva perfume on your desk, the bow wrapped prettily around the cap.

“oh shit, it’s been a while,” you chuckled.

carmen was taking it all in, looking around with a thoughtful grin etched across his lips.

“always been a fashion girl, huh?” he prodded you.

“oh forever.”

you sidled up in front of him, so close you could feel him up against you.

“you were amazing today,” you reached up to kiss him as he towered over you, in height and energy. a soft, wet kiss that left carmy wanting more. so much so that he unconsciously wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you in even closer.

“yeah?”

“yes. i love watching you with my family. and with the kids, you just…”

“y’know, when i was cooking i kept feeling eyes on the back of my neck. any idea who that could’ve been?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow up as he gazed down at you.

you shook your head knowingly, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, returning his gaze tenfold.

“no,” you replied, your voice sweet like honeydew and so, so telling.

“fuck,” carmy’s gaze seemed to deepen as his lids sunk lower, drinking in the sight of you. “don’t look at me like that, baby.”

he started to pull you closer towards him, back and back and back until you were plopped down on his bed. his legs, wide and bulky, forced you to spread yours over his lap, welcoming his thighs into a straddle.

“like what?” you asked, your eyes twinkling as you looked down at him and he looked up at you, his hands roaming your thighs freely, like an expanse of land that was entirely his property.

“like that, like you’re gonna make me do something you’ll regret.”

“regret? how could i ever regret anything you do to me, baby?” you questioned with a very intentional roll of your hips against him. you felt him grow, blossoming against your own crotch, which made you moan quietly.

“if you’re loud enough—” carmy punctuated his words with a kiss against your neck as his hands went to take off your shirt. you lifted your arms up and your shirt came sliding off, your skin exposed to the cool air. “you just might regret it.”

carmy kissed the side of your neck, eliciting a quiet huff of pleasure from your lips. you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure. his fingers danced delicately against your bare sides until finally, he rested the whole of his palms against your body, easing them up and down like he was smoothing you out.

“mm, i’ll be quiet, daddy,” you hummed, arching your back just so, his hand connecting with the small of your back and fitting right in.

“take your pants off,” he commanded quietly, his eyes practically closed as he studied you with heavy lids. the exhaustion certainly didn’t assist the horny daze he was sinking deeper into, tired and full of lustful thoughts that seemed to weigh him down.

“only if you take your clothes off too, carmy,” you whined, but you shimmied out of your pants anyway, watching him with hungry puppy-dog eyes while he did the same, yanking off his shirt, belt, and pants and throwing them halfway across the room.

“and your bra, too,” carmy said softly, his words coming out delicate like petals falling off a flower. he was completely focused on one thing, and it was you— nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. time moved slow when he watched you like this.

you started unhooking it, then carmy’s hands flung to your clasp to help you, removing it in record time and throwing it across the room. you opened your mouth to make a joke, but you were immediately silenced when his lips attached hungrily to your breast, closing in on the fat surrounding the small of your nipple while the other hand grasped onto the other.

you whined quietly and started to roll your hips against carmy even more now, grinding deep against his crotch which was covered by his boxers. you could practically feel him poking inside of you, lubricating your pussy even more than it already was.

“carmy,” you whined. “can feel you.”

“mhm?” he hummed brokenly, his breaths heavy and dysregulated. you were so warm, sharing in each other’s heat, in the still dark of your bedroom. the sheets all done up, practically untouched. he pulled away from your breast, unlatching with a soft pop of his lips. his hand replaced his mouth, feeling the warm trail that his lips left. “can feel you too, sweetheart.”

he let his hand drift down to your crotch, cupping you over your underwear, which had a big wet spot in the center.

“yeah, that’s what i feel. you’re so fucking wet, honey,” he crooned into your ear, making sure his lips brushed against your earlobe before he traveled down to kiss on your neck some more, sending shivers down your spine that made you buck your hips involuntarily into his hand. carmy chuckled that dark, smug chuckle that made you hate him and want to ride him all the same. the kind that only came out when you were being desperate— when he had control over you and not the other way around. “what’re you doing, baby? go slow, yeah? be patient.”

he made a wreck of you, obliging you anyway by circling a finger against your clit through your panties, feeling the way your slick seemed to pool endlessly at his touch. wanting to feel it on your skin.

“shut up, carmy, fuck!” you moaned quietly, your arms wrapped around his neck for balance.

he played with you just a little more, wondering just how far he could take it until your quiet moans turned into pleading whimpers, until he made you start to beg just for his fingers, so that by the time he sat you down on his lap, letting you sink all the way down onto his cock, you had no more voice to beg. that was on his mind, and yet, in his tired, sex-drunk haze, he knew to give you what you wanted now, before you went and turned the whole house into a personal fuckfest.

still, he couldn’t help but tease just once more.

“it’s christmas, honey. what’re we doing?”

“i don’t care,” you huffed. “it’s practically tomorrow, it’s like 11:30.”

carmen nearly snorted,

“need it that bad?”

you didn’t reply, and so he asked you again, this time with a kiss of his lips against your neck, sucking and attaching firmly to the sweet, soft skin there, and with his fingers, pulling down your underwear. slick sounds filling the air as it detached from your wet core, a trail of your arousal in between the cloth and your heat.

“hm?” carmy hummed, letting his fingers dance along your slit, ever so gently and delicately, like they were trailing up your entire being.

“god, y-yes, carmy. need it, need you. please,” you whimpered, muffled as you buried your head into the crook of his neck, lurching into him like you were surrendering, a natural lull you didn’t even realize you gave into every time without fail. full disregard, letting him take over, letting yourself let go.

“need my fingers inside you, yeah?” carmy panted, finding it hard to control himself.

all he wanted was to be sheathed fully inside of you, whether that meant twisting you open with his fingers, lapping you up with his tongue, or fucking his cum into you as deeply (and quietly) as he could. he obliged, slipping one finger inside with such gleeful ease, feeling the digit get soaked in your arousal.

you gasped sharply, lurching forward involuntarily. carmy brought you back down with another hand wrapped firm around your waist.

“no no no, stay right there. and answer me, what do you need?”

“need you carmy, need your fingers, please, another,” you nearly cried out, your voice going up an octave just to beg. perhaps carmen’s favorite sound from your lips, and it didn’t even sound like yourself— it sounded like someone who was forced into impenetrable bliss and didn’t have a vessel to express it, just the voice.

“okay, okay, sweetheart,” he was sweet and giving, so generous, so dazed and yet still so in charge. dipping another finger into your slick, wet heat and burying his fingers to the hilt inside of you, causing you to squeak out. “fuck, gotta be quiet, honey.”

“yes, yes, i’m sorry,” you scrambled to apologize, which only made him want you more. hungry, he grunted, jerking his hips up to feel something, anything. your hands flew to his crotch, palming him over his boxers, but he gently pulled your hand away.

“don’t worry about me, baby. don’t worry. gonna have you bouncing on my cock in a minute, just wait. wanna make you feel good first,” he assured you, and in your haze, you nodded agreeably, eyes screwed shut with pleasure.

he moved, slowly, so you could feel his fingers sliding against your walls. you threw your head back, a muffled noise of pleasure escaping from your throat. he kept his eyes on you, unblinking, pumping in slow and controlled one, two times, then he picked up the pace, and with it, you got wetter, slicker, soaking his fingers and his thighs.

your breath caught in your throat, you couldn’t even make any noise. just stilted from the pleasure that you felt, feeling it burn and rev in your stomach— that slow, churning stir back again, working towards completion. all you could hear was your slick as carmy fucked his fingers in and out of you, fast and dangerously deep, hitting every single spot inside of you because his fingers were so thick. carmy’s eyes glanced down for a minute to see his fingers disappearing inside of you like they fucking belonged there, like they were supposed to be inside of you, making you so wet that it was all you could hear. he watched as your arousal painted your mound and spread across your thighs, breathing out heavily in disbelief. he started to fuck his fingers into you faster now, and you whimpered in a pitch he’d never heard from you before. with his other hand, he assisted you in bouncing your hips at the same pace as his fingers. the room was filled with the sounds of squelching as his fingers fucked in and out of you, carrying along your slick with it.

“fuck, you’re so fucking wet. your pussy’s so fucking loud, baby, you must feel so good, huh? feels so good? don’t wanna wake anybody up, do you?” he was delirious, saying whatever came to his mind, his grip on your hip tight and his fingers wrecking you at such a torturous pace.

“mm-mm, mm-mm,” you cried, rocking your hips against his hands and damn near taking his knuckles— his interjections of “such a pretty wet pussy” and “you’re doing so good for me, you sound so fucking good, baby” brought you to your high, and you rode it out whale bouncing your hips up and down. legs shaking and thighs trembling as you tightened around his fingers, releasing all over him. your voice a muddled mess as you cried out. “fuck, carmy, i’m coming. i’m coming.”

“fuck,” carmen said through gritted teeth, his cock jumping in his boxers. “fuck, you’re so good. you’re so fucking good, yn, that’s it. that’s it sweetheart.”

you whimpered as you came, his fingers still deep inside of you and thrusting while you rode it out/

“i know, i know,” he muttered reassuringly, letting you get yours and then pulling his fingers out softly, resting his head against your rising and falling chest.

his hands returned to a smooth, kind roam as he let you catch your breath, touching every part of you to comfort you. when you had found your basis again, you sighed lovingly and wrapped your hands around carmen’s neck, pressing your forehead against his and gazing into his eyes.

a soft smile tugging at your lips, you whispered,

“i love you, bear. wanted to be around you all day, even after spending two days straight with you. still wanted you.”

“i always want you,” he replied without skipping a beat. he lifted his head up to kiss you. “and i love you too. if we can survive a twelve-hour road trip we can survive anything.”

“shit, if we can survive christmas with my family we can survive anything,” you giggled, kissing

his forehead.

“yeah, i love your family though. mom’s dope. sister’s hilarious. cousins are wildly talented. it fucking runs in the family. i don’t know what runs in my family, maybe… i dunno, bad shit,” he chuckled with a huff, shaking his head.

“hey,” you pouted. “don’t say that, bear. you’re sweet… attentive… loving… a perfectionist until it kills you, but, that’s valuable. isn’t it?”

you punctuated each word with a kiss, trailing down his neck and around his clavicles.

“fuck,” he breathed out. “don’t start something you can’t finish, now.”

“try me,” you grinned devilishly.

#the bear #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x black reader #carmy x black reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmy smut #carmy x reader smut #the bear fx #the bear smut #black reader #x black reader

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orbitariums · 1 year

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poison | steve harrington x black female reader

a little steve harrington x black reader imagine set in the 90s

contains: use of daddy, praise + degradation, etc

enjoy!

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were bent over at your vanity, elbows perched like a doll on the white marble top while you squeezed out clear lip gloss from a tube. It was that sticky 99 cent kind from the hair store that stuck to Steve’s lips whenever he kissed you, leaving behind a sickly sweet taste that he yearned for more of all the time.

And that dress you were wearing. A simple white dress that clung to your body, hung onto every curve so unforgivingly. The contrast of the white against your skin tone made your color pop. He almost couldn’t stand the thought that other people would get to see you like this, and he made a mental note in his head at that very moment to be by your side at every moment of that party. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he wanted everyone to know that you were his, without a sliver of doubt.

Watching you pucker your lips and dab delicately at the bit of gloss that strayed from the outlines of your perfect lips became too much for Steve, who had been sitting on the bed behind you with an almost glazed over look in his heavy-lidded eyes. He sat up and stood right behind you, his body flush with yours.

He keeled over you and you felt your breath, warm against his neck, before you heard his voice.

“Baby, let’s just skip the party, hmm? Let’s stay home.”

You knew Steve had nothing but lust running through his mind when his hand found its way up your body and onto the curvy flesh of your chest and he took a squeeze.

You smiled, shaking your head and leaning away out of Steve’s grasp so you could keep prettying yourself up.

“Steve, we are going to this party. It’s Ariana’s birthday, I really don’t wanna miss it. She throws the illest parties, too.”

Steve was relentless, swaying along with you and playfully nipping at your chin, grabbing your sides with a soft grip,

“Mm-mm. I’m keeping you right here, all night. I want you to myself.”

“Mhm, keep dreaming lover boy,” you replied offhandedly, rummaging through your vanity dresser for blush.

When he realized you weren’t giving in to his boyish charm, he pouted dramatically, sitting back on the bed with noticeable force. You turned back to face him when you heard the way the springs creaked angrily with his body weight.

“Can you relax?” you asked, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Just let me fuck you one time before we go,” Steve practically begged.

“Steve!”

“Fine,” Steve bleated monotonously, folding his arms and deadpanning like a child denied a piece of candy. “But you better behave tonight.”

You didn’t take him seriously, but a few hours later, boy did you wish you would’ve.

You pulled up to the party not long after, of course not without having to practically tear Steve off of you all throughout the journey through your house to the car and then to the door of the party, which was held on college campus in Ariana’s sorority. The music was blasting and you could hear it even before you walked in—the song Poison to be specific. You danced a little beside Steve while waiting for the door to open, and he just stood there watching you with that horny little smile on his face.

“Yo!” greeted a friendly voice as the door opened. It was one of your mutual friends, one out of many people who had taken a liking to “white boy Steve,” as your entire friend group called him. Steve paid no mind to the nickname, in fact he had grown accustomed to it and he honestly loved it. It was like second nature to him. “White boy Steve, what’s up, my man?”

You watched Pierce, the guy who had opened the door, reach out his hand to dap Steve up. Steve dapped him up accordingly, then pulled him into a hug. Pierce greeted you as well and welcomed the both of you in, alerting everyone that white boy Steve had arrived. He was in fact, the only white boy for miles on this campus, which was populated by mostly Black and Latinx students. But even with his gelled up hair and a demeanor similar to that of a frat boy, he fit right in.

The party had already gotten started. The house smelled of smoke and liquor, and the floor shook with all the dancing feet pounding against it. It was crowded, as always, but still enough space to walk around and socialize. Although Steve loved seeing you and his friends, you were the only thing on his mind. He was antsy to get out of here and find someplace quiet where he could have you all to himself. It was all because of that damn dress, and that lip gloss you insisted on reapplying coats of every five seconds. It drove him crazy and it was taking everything in him not to drag you away from Ariana midconversation, as you wished her a happy birthday.

“Ari!” you trilled, running up to her as best you could in your glittery silver heels, another thing that was making Steve lose his mind. You were the picture of elegance in his eyes, the definition of a princess. He loved having you as his arm candy, and loved taking care of you even more. It didn’t help that he was also one drink in— that dark brown liquor was going right to his dick.

“Mama, it’s so good to see you, you look so good,” Ariana complimented you with eyes wide. “Lemme see a little spin.”

You actually spun around. Steve’s brows raised all the way up, an uncontrollable reaction, watching you show it off so casually, laughing while you did. Steve couldn’t comprehend how that laugh rang like the most angelic music in his ears and also made him want to bend you over until your innocent giggles were drowned out by crude moans. Meanwhile, you were off in girly fairyland with your friend, completely oblivious to Steve and all the things he wanted to do to you.

Ariana was trilling and whooping and hyping you up, and all Steve could offer was a nonchalant, wordless nod to her. How was he supposed to talk, or keep himself together when you were literally twirling around in front of him?

“Girl, you not even drunk,” you narrowed your eyes doubtfully at Ariana, who was in fact still stable on her feet.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

A brief pause between the two of you, the giddy anticipation budding between you before you both girlishly squealed,

“Birthday shots!”

Steve cursed himself as you and Ariana made a bee-line for the kitchen and you beckoned him to come with you. Drunk you meant tonight was going to be even harder for him. Steve decided he might as well match you if this was what was going to happen.

Five shots in, you, Steve and Ariana were drunker than a donkey’s ass. Ariana had gone full birthday girl mode, climbing up on the countertop in the center of the kitchen and dancing with the vigor you would expect from a drunk twentysomething. You were safe on the ground, cheering her on until your voice went sore, and then you did the unthinkable. Before Steve could stop you, you had removed your shoes, tossed them to the side and climbed up on the kitchen counter, nearly crashing into Ariana before you joined her in dancing. Steve couldn’t tell what song was playing, only that the bass was bumping and that it was so loud, but not loud enough to cover the cheers and heckling you two were getting from your onlookers. It was all fun and games, sure, but when you started to sway your hips and dance against Ariana, it was like Steve lost himself.

Everything around him that wasn’t you was starting to blend, his vision a vignette blur with you as the sole focus. He couldn’t decide between being territorial over the fact that you were dancing like that in front of everyone or if he should just stand back and appreciate the show you were giving him. Drunk as he was, his senses got the best of him and he was focused primarily on your safety. Both of you had nearly slipped off the table twice, so now Steve was beckoning you to come down. You couldn’t hear him at first, but when you finally noticed him, you pouted and shook your head.

“Stevie, I’m having fun!” you babbled, throwing your hands up defiantly3 in the air and back down against your sides. “Girls just wanna have fun? Ever heard of it!”

“Baby, you gotta get down,” Steve insisted, even though he couldn’t deny that you were cute like this, drunk and carefree and bratty. He was just scared to death that you were going to fall, or that you might be embarrassed in the morning.

“No!” you squealed, laughing as you kept dancing, to the delight of other partygoers who were just as plastered as you were. “Let me live my life! I’ll only be young once!”

“Okay, that’s enough, YN,” Steve said, trying to sound as serious as he could. You turned to him and for a moment he thought you were going to come down, but then you reached your arms out to him and started trying to pull him up to dance with you.

“C’mon Stevie, dance with me!” you chirped, a big goofy smile on your face, your eyes round and wide.

He chuckled, shaking his head. It didn’t help that everyone else was chanting and trying to get him to let loose too. You were just so sexy, he truly did want to, but he knew better.

“YN, I’m serious!” he warned, but you ignored him, still tugging relentlessly at his hand.

Frustrated now, Steve rolled his eyes as he took your hand, but instead of getting on the counter with you, he pulled you off with gentle ease, folding you over his shoulder while his hands gripped the backs of your legs. You whined loudly, pounding your fists against his back and kicking your feet as the crowd playfully booed Steve. He motioned his free hand downwards in the air as if to tell everyone to settle down, apologizing flippantly,

“I know, I know. Sorry, show's over.”

Steve grabbed your shoes and then walked over to the living room, trying to keep his balance as he set you on the floor finally. You hobbled just a bit and then snatched the heels away from him, putting them back on so angrily it was almost comical. Steve was watching you with a satisfied smile on his face, amused by how upset you were at making you get down from the table.

“I was really in my groove over there!” you complained, pushing against Steve’s chest.

“I know, baby, I know, you did great.”

Still frowning, you inched towards him, your indignant facade fading with each step you took. Steve knew that look in your eyes from anywhere. It was the look you gave him when you were about to finesse whatever you wanted from him. That low, doe-eyed gaze slightly upward through your long lashes. A small ghost of a smile perched upon those thick, glossy lips, almost a smirk. You reached your hand out, touching his chest, your voice low and husky but still audible over the music.

“Would you rather I was dancing on you like that? Is that it, Stevie, hmm?” you implored, your voice lilted and almost taunting.

Steve swallowed. He had been wanting to fuck you all day, especially the minute you put that dress on. Now, there was no telling what he might do. Steve’s eyes, filled with a burning desire, slowly traveled from your lips to your eyes. That liquor was hitting especially hard right now.

You bit down gently on your lip and turned around slowly, gracefully, your head turned back so you could whisper into Steve’s ear, while you elongated your agitating tease against him, slowly starting to sway your hips into him. Your ass was directly against his dick and you made sure of that, feeling it lift slightly each time you backed up into him and snaked your body side to side. Steve’s hand flung to your hip and his grip was firm and almost harsh. He was practically melting into you, his lips dropped slightly open in pure lust.

“You want me to dance on you like this, right?”

“Hell yes,” Steve nearly moaned, nevermind the other people in the room, who were also dancing just like this with their beau of the night.

You took it a step further, wrapping your hand around his neck and digging your fingers into his hair, giving it the slightest pull. This time, he really did moan, quietly into your ear. You knew he would— as picky as Steve was about his hair, the one time he didn’t mind getting it messed up was when you were pulling it. He was rock hard against you now, and it was like you were purposefully pressing up harder against him because of that.

“I can feel how hard you are. You know, that is just so inappropriate, Stevie, I mean real-”

You were toying with him, but before you could even finish your sentence, Steve had torn away from you and was grabbing your hand, pulling you along with him until he found a room that was empty. It was the bathroom right on this floor, in plain sight of all the partygoers, but he didn’t give a fuck. He was going to have you, and he was going to have you now. You’d been teasing him all night, with glimpses of your long legs, the sight of your dress riding up your thighs when you sat down, watching you constantly smear gloss on your lips, the way you smelled… and he had to endure it all— enough was enough.

He closed and locked the door with superhuman swiftness, and the light turned on viciously bright in contrast with the dim lighting of the party.

“Steve, what are you—”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he practically growled, pulling you close to him and crashing his lips against yours. Though you were caught off guard, you kissed him back just as hard. His longing, open mouth, the way his tongue crashed against yours and the firm grip he had on your hips let you know just how long he’d been waiting to do this, and the way you kissed him back was as if to tell him he was finally going to get it.

You pulled away first, breathless, laughing slightly against Steve’s lips,

“I’m the stupid one? You just pulled us into the bathroom. Everyone’s gonna know what we’re doing.”

“They can watch for all I care,” Steve replied dismissively. The thought made the heat rise in your cheeks and caused your eyes to widen slightly, a reaction which Steve noted, even in his drunken haze. He cocked his head mischievously to the side, the smirk on his face uncontrollable. “But maybe you’d like that.”

You giggled nervously, turning your head to the side so you didn’t have to face him,

“You’re such an idiot.”

Steve pulled you back in, starting to pepper kisses along your neck. His hand, big and strong, found its way to your ass and he squeezed through the fabric of your dress, making you throw your head back slightly. A pleased moan echoed from your lips into his ears, which were ringing with the sound of the loud, unforgiving desire he felt for you.

“Fuck, let me have you baby,” he moaned raggedly, his lips hung open against your neck. You simply moaned in response, hardly picking up on what he was saying because you were in so much pleasure, racked by the idea of being watched or heard.

“Can I have you baby?” he asked, this time with his lips pressed to your ear. “Right here?”

“Fuck, Steve,” you pressed yourself up against him. “You… you want me right now?”

You were breathless, you could barely talk while Steve pressed kisses all along your neck and your jawline. The sensation was heavenly, intensified by the liquor, so sweet and so brisk they made your pussy throb with want.

“Mm hm,” Steve hummed into your neck, the vibrations traveling up your spine.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, Steve,” you replied, your voice ragged with bliss. All he had to do was touch you and you were crumbling into tiny little pieces, putty in his hands. “Want you to fuck me right here— fuck— while we’re at this party.”

Your mouth became ten times dirtier when you were drunk, but so did Steve’s, so he knew exactly how to match your energy and then some. But it was clear he was in charge here, and he made sure you knew it. A fact that only made your thighs squeeze together even more with need.

“That’s a good girl,” he smiled, leaning in for another kiss on the lips, relishing in the way your lip gloss tasted on his tongue.

His cock was practically thumping against you, and he could feel your core pulse against his thigh, you were practically dry humping his leg without even realizing it. He kissed you deeply, his mouth melding with yours. One hand cupped your chin and the other traveled between your legs, brushing against the fabric of your dress before it reached your center. He closed his hand over your mound, feeling how wet you were, counting how many times you pulsed into his hand. A high pitched moan slid out of your mouth into his mouth as you pulled away, watching a string of spit break between the two of you. Your face was twisted up in pleasure— he was rubbing your clit through your underwear with two fingers, keeping perfect eye contact with you as he did so.

“How do you want me?” you asked, so needy he almost wanted to deny you for the fuck of it, but he couldn’t do that to you or to himself.

“Gonna put you on the sink, sweet girl,” he replied, wrapping his hands around you and tapping your ass, signaling for you to wrap your legs around him. You did just that, and Steve placed you on the edge of the sink. He held you a bit as you wobbled to orient yourself, laughing slightly.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Steve couldn’t help himself, he had to say it. As horny as he was, you truly were his princess. All he cared about was treating you right at the end of the day, in any way he could express that.

“You’re beautiful too, Stevie,” you smiled. “Why am I on the sink, I thought you were gonna fuck me.”

Steve almost laughed at the impatience hiding beneath your well-meaning question, his eyes glimmering with a deviant sparkle.

“Wanna taste my sweet girl.”

You bit down on your lip, the twinkle of anticipation shining bright in your eyes as they followed Steve’s path to the ground. He lowered himself down until he was on his knees, just face to face with your core, and he took his lip in between his teeth with the kind of want you could only describe as ravenous. It was a wonder he hadn’t torn all your clothes off you already. But perhaps it was because he wanted to fuck you in that dress, not waste it.

“Been wanting to taste that pussy all night,” Steve whispered, lips pressed tenderly to your knee, splaying sweet kisses up your legs and thighs.

You sighed, your head falling back with bliss, letting go of everything and just letting Steve’s minimal touches take over. He decorated your body with small kisses against your inner thighs and light brushes of his hands, but you felt everything as if it had been multiplied by ten. Not only did the liquor have your pussy throbbing and ten times wetter than usual, but anything Steve did turned you on, whether you were sober or not.

So you were already a mess by the time he had fully pushed your dress up past your waist and pulled your panties down, leaving them in a disarray on the floor somewhere beside him. The cool air breezed past your wet pussy and you sucked in a sharp, surprised moan, which was complemented by a deep groan that rose from somewhere way down in Steve’s body.

“My God, YN, you are so fucking wet— shit,” Steve hissed, unable to hide the wonder in his voice. He reached out two thick fingers and ran them up your slit, collecting all the slick that had pooled at your center and threatened to drip onto the sink counter. You let out a strangled mewl at the feeling, and looked down at Steve with wobbly eyesight and a screwed up face. “Could probably fuck you right now, fuck… don’t even need to eat you out. Look how wet you are, baby.”

He reached his hand up, pressing his fingers against your lips and gesturing for you to taste. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, an act so salacious it nearly made him come in his pants. You made sure to suck the taste of yourself clean from his fingers, torturously slow while you made relentless eye contact with him.

“Such a dirty fucking slut, you like tasting yourself on my fingers?”

“Yes, Steve, please,” you panted, teetering dangerously close to the edge of begging.

“Please what?”

“Steve,” you grumbled, swaying your legs against him.

“No, no, you wanted to be a tease all night long. So tell me what you want me to do to you,” Steve commanded, knowing deep down that it was taking everything in him not to dive headfirst into your pussy and shake his head in it. “C’mon, use your words.”

“I want… want you to eat my pussy right here on this sink and ma-make me cum on your face, please, Steve. Feel how much I need you,” you moaned raggedly, grabbing his wrist harshly and pulling his hand back to your core, guiding his fingers sloppily against your center so they were rubbing against your clit and dipping dangerously into your slit. You threw your head back with closed eyes and moaned, “Mmm.”

Steve felt like this was a fucking fever dream. You looked so hot like this, already in shambles despite how little he had touched you, controlling his hand and dictating your pleasure. He practically growled to himself as he tore his hand out of your grip and shoved his face quite literally face first into your pussy, muttering just loud enough for you to hear. You couldn’t help it and you shrieked out the minute you felt his tongue press flat against your pussy, covering your clit and your pulsating slit, then lick up with unforgiving speed and hard pressure.

Not to mention Steve’s hands were gripping into your thighs, keeping them spread apart because already you were threatening to close them in around his head. So as leeway, your hand sprung down to the back of his head and you pushed his face further into your core, squeezing at his hair and eliciting a moan from him that sent a tantalizing vibration through your whole body. He kitten licked your whole pussy and sucked at your clit, alternating between the two and leaving open mouthed kisses against your pussy. He loved tasting you, it was like you were pouring straight onto his tongue and he was lapping it up like a starved predator.

You let out a strangled moan, grinding your hips uncontrollably against Steve’s face, your thighs providing cushioning for the sides of his face as he dove inconsolably deep into your pussy, making a mess of his own face and your pussy all at once.

You nearly banged your head against the mirror with how far you threw it back when Steve looked up at you with hooded eyes, drunk on the taste of you, infatuated with the sounds of your sweet moans. He’d been wanting to hear them all night and it had him ragingly hard, plus the possibility of getting caught had you both sweating with anticipation.

When Steve pulled back, his lips were glistening but his eyes were completely dark, they’d lost any trace of playfulness. Even in your haze, legs twitching and your pussy absolutely throbbing, you knew you were done for. He didn’t keep his hands off of you, gripping harshly onto your thighs and making direct eye contact with you.

“Get up,” he commanded.

Your eyes widened and you practically jumped off the sink, attempting to wiggle your dress down your legs, only for Steve to position himself right behind you, so you could feel his cock, poking aggressively through his jeans, on your bare pussy. You cried out involuntarily, the slightest friction against your soaking heat making you extremely susceptible to the utmost pleasure.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck this pussy,” you could hear Steve muttering— to you or to himself, you couldn’t tell, but the hunger in his tone was such a turnon, you found yourself grinding up against him as he rid himself hastily of his pants and his boxers.

You felt his cock spring out and giggled mischievously when it did. Steve wasted absolutely no time, placing a domineering hand on your back and forcing you to bend over, your hands collapsing on the edge of the tub in front of you. You barely even had time to steady yourself before he was pushing his cock right into you, already saying the dirtiest things for you specifically.

“All the way in, just like that,” he murmured. Steve had lost his resolve almost immediately, his mouth dropping slightly open the moment he found himself bottomed out inside of you. He knew he was going to come soon already. Everything was too much. Your ass up against him, your white dress bunched up at your sides, how wet you were, making it so easy for him to just slide right in. “You are… so fucking perfect.”

You were literally at a loss for words, and it was only just now that you let out a gasp of a moan, legs shaking from the force of Steve’s fat cock sliding into you with such ease, stretching you out with no prep. This man had you bent over in a bathroom at a party, and you’d do it again for him and more. He finally started to move, one hand resting firm on your ass and the other farther up your back. He was easing in and out of you so easily, it had him throwing his head back and groaning. The liquor didn’t help at all, he wanted to do everything to you.

“Ste-eve,” you choked out as he started to catch onto a pace, not too fast and not too slow but just right, your wet pussy making slick sounds each time he slid out of you and pushed back into you.

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” Steve asked, coming back down to Earth from the Heaven he’d briefly been transported to. “Like how easy this cock just fucking slides into you? How wet you are?”

It seemed that his own words were firing him up. He was starting to pick up the pace, and his hands on you were gripping even harder. Your ass was vibrating back onto his dick, making soft clapping noises that only the two of you could hear over the chatter and music outside. You dared to look back at him when you answered, your face screwed up with pleasure,

“Yes daddy, feels so fucking good, you feel so go— oh!”

You felt Steve’s hand come down harsh against your ass, a loud, strong slap that made your pussy squeeze involuntarily around his dick, making him bite his lip and moan deep in his throat. He couldn’t help himself now, his words started to flow spontaneously, sounding like the feverish confessions of desire of a man who’d waited far too long,

“You’re so fucking good, your pussy is so fucking good. Clapping back on my dick like a good little girl, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, I’m your good girl, I’m your good girl, Stevie. Make me your good girl, please?”

“Mhm,” Steve tilted his head slightly to get a better look at his cock disappearing inside your pussy, his strokes growing more languid and confident now as he set a fast, smooth pace. “Or maybe I’ll make you my little slut? Would you like that?”

You couldn’t respond because it felt like your chest was literally constricted, that was how deep Steve felt inside of you, how good his cock was making you feel. You were practically pressing your face against the edge of the tub now, unable to hold yourself up completely. Steve knew that face from anywhere, knew he was fucking you too good for you to speak, and he chuckled deviously, boyishly almost, a smug smile appearing on his face as he brought two hands to your ass and pushed you back against his dick. Your ass slapped against his mound and you were taking all of him, no ifs ands or buts. And he knew how to fill you up. He slapped your ass again, then resumed his torturously fast pace, becoming even rougher now, even harder.

He was laughing as he spoke, grinning so despicably,

“Yeah, you would love that, me making you my little slut, hmm? Making you— fuck– making you take my cock all day long? Is that what you want?”

Words continued to fail you, so all you could do was nod your head with your eyes screwed tight in pleasure. You knew you were close soon, and you could tell by the renewed feeling in your stomach that you were starting to cream on his dick. Steve didn’t miss a beat, looking down at his thick cock getting coated with your thick cream, down the shaft all the way to his balls, some of it painting your pussy and inner thighs as well. You moaned loudly, you could feel how wet you were between your legs and against the patch of hair on Steve’s mound.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re creaming all over my dick, you know that? Making a mess, baby,” Steve teased, and you nearly ran away when he sucked on his thumb and pressed it against your pussy, rubbing slow, deep circles.

“Fuck! Fuck, Steve!” you found the voice to shout, and the strength to start giving him hell too, making sure to bounce back forcefully on his cock as your pussy secreted onto his dick, leaving a circle shaped imprint around his shaft. He actually growled this time, watching your ass clap back against him, mesmerized by the motion it made each time, something like waves crashing against the shore.

His assault on your pussy grew harsher with each thrust, making salacious, wet slapping sounds that filled the room. He kept one hand on your pussy and the other gripped your ass tight, squeezing all that he could.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he grumbled, his teeth clenched as he watched the way you pushed back forcefully onto him. “You’re— fuck– so good for me, show me how good you feel getting fucked like this.”

He was becoming more breathless, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long. You were nearly crying, whimpering as you got fucked into oblivion.

“Make me come, daddy,” you begged, and that was the final push Steve needed to be able to keep driving into you, getting impossibly deeper as he shifted slightly to a new angle. You practically sobbed as you threw it back even harder now, feeling your orgasm come excruciatingly close as Steve placed both hands on your sides, holding you in place so you couldn’t run away from it, “Yes baby that’s it, that’s so fucking good, oh my god.”

“You’ve been teasing me all fucking night, I want you to come for me now. Go ahead, come all over my cock, baby, make a mess. Make a mess like you do,” Steve encouraged you, gathering up all his strength so his voice didn’t break as he too felt himself on the brink of exploding with pleasure. When he saw the way your eyes rolled back in your head he kept going, egging you, and quite honestly himself, on, “You look so fucking good getting fucked like this. Dressed like a little princess and getting fucked like a whore.”

You cried out as you found yourself coming undone, gushing all over his cock as you finally came. Steve chuckled darkly and through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm you could feel his hand coming down to smack your ass. You were depleted now, and Steve was using you, fucking into you so he could reach his end. You felt yourself start to twitch uncontrollably, moaning still as Steve fucked you through your orgasm. Breathlessly, you found enough strength to ask,

“You gonna come Stevie?”

“F-fuck, yes, yes baby, you feel so fucking good,” now it was Steve’s turn to whimper, losing sense of himself as he fucked sloppily into you. He drew back slightly and looked down, hands by his side, hips slapping clumsily against your ass and thighs. “God, you made a mess on my dick.”

“Yeah? I want you to make a mess in my pussy then, baby,” when you said that, Steve choked on the moan that came out of his mouth. His hips stuttered and with it came spurts of his cum thrusting into you, warm and filling and so much.

“Fuck YN, I’m coming,” he moaned, his mouth dropped open into an o-shape.

“There you go, baby, that’s it,” you grinned, finally catching your own breath and looking back at him, his face enveloped in pure ecstasy and pleasure as he let go inside of you.

He finished completely inside of you, slowing his sloppy thrusts as if to ensure you wouldn’t waste it. He pulled away sweaty and panting, but even through all of that he couldn’t help but bend down and kiss your asscheek, then pull away and swat at it. He helped you up, then zipped up his own pants, and you shimmied your dress down.

“Come here,” Steve beckoned you close, pulling you into him because right now all he wanted was to feel your warmth, feel all of you, and feel safe in your arms. You let him embrace you, and you buried your face in his chest. “You’re so fucking beautiful, YN.”

He pulled away, holding you by your shoulders.

“But never wear that dress again,” he warned you.

You giggled, shaking your head,

“Can’t make any promises, Stevie.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me. But I love it,” Steve grinned, matching your mischievous energy as always.

“I know, baby. Now come dance with me.”

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