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wonusite · 5 months

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Endless Adoration

❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader

GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating

A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.

Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.

His little sister, however, does not see it that way.

Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.

Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.

“It’s caramel.”

You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”

Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.

Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.

“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.

“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”

Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.

“It’s caramel.”

“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”

Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”

It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.

“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”

Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.

“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”

It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”

Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.

“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”

“You what?”

His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.

Fuck.

You were going to kill him.

It’s not Mingyu’s fault.

When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.

“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.

Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.

Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.

You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.

Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.

Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”

The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.

“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”

He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.

“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”

The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”

Fuck.

Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.

The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.

“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”

Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.

“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.

Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”

All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.

When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.

You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.

You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.

“Are you ready?”

Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.

“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”

You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”

The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.

“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”

“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.

Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.

You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.

“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”

Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.

“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.

“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.

“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.

Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.

“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”

Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.

“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.

You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”

Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.

The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.

Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.

The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.

You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.

Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.

“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”

The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.

Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.

Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.

“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.

“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”

You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”

Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”

In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.

The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.

It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.

The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.

“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.

His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.

“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”

Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.

Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.

“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”

Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”

“Why? That’s why I have you.”

Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.

By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.

The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.

“Here.”

You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.

“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.

The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.

For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.

Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.

He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.

Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.

It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.

Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.

“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.

Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.

Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.

Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.

These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.

Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.

In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.

At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.

As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.

After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.

Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.

When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.

“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”

It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.

“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”

Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.

Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.

“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”

The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.

“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”

“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.

“You’re not?”

“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”

Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.

“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”

He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.

The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.

If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.

Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.

“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.

The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.

Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.

“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.

As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.

You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.

“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”

“I want you to fuck me now.”

Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”

He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.

“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”

You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.

Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.

“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”

You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.

“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.

Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.

“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”

The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.

“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”

When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.

Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.

You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”

That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.

“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”

You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.

Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.

Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.

If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.

Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.

“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.

Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.

“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.

Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.

It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.

“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.

Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.

His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.

“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”

Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.

Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.

Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.

“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.

Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.

You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.

When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”

You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.

Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.

“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”

He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors

#mingyu smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x you #mingyu fic #svt fic #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x you

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silverhairsimp · 3 months

Text

who's gonna take care of you? k. bakugou

I am sicker than sick and couldn't sleep last night so here's some bakugou fluff.

Pairing & CW: Bakugou x f!reader. Reader and Bakugou have two kids. Brief mentions of pregnancy from Mitsuki (Reader is not actually pregnant). pure, sickly sweet fluff.

Katsuki looks at the clock hanging above the kitchen sink, 7:24am. Usually you’d have been up for at least a half hour by now, maybe more. The kids have to be to school at 8:30, it’s only a 12 minute drive, but they like to get there early and play with their friends before their day of learning starts. He looks at the two of them sitting at the counter, digging into their fresh pancakes and waffles with a variety of fruits. They were similar in a lot of ways, but your daughter refuses to eat pancakes, the same goes with your son and waffles. And what kind of number one dad would The Bakugou Katsuki be if he didn’t make his brats happy?

“You two stay here and finish eating— gonna go check on your ma’,” he calls out to them before heading down the hall, only to stop with a had on the doorframe to look back at them. “And no eatin’ spoonfuls’a syrup this time! That shi— crap’ll give you diabetes.”

The two of them laugh at their dads empty threat, knowing they’ll at least sneak one or two spoonfuls before he gets back.

He has an office day today, full of paperwork and unfished reports that need to be submitted by the end of the week. He’s been working overtime, which means you have too. Working overtime at your own job and taking care of the kids when he gets home too late or leaves too early for work.

“Baby—“ he calls out when he pushes open your bedroom door. Your cheeks are flushed red, your brows are knit together, you’ve got a mound of blankets on you, yet your feet are sticking out from the bottom. “Hey, y’doing okay?” He asks as he gets closer, sitting next to your sleeping form on the bed when he reaches a hand out to cup your cheek, followed by placing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Jesus babe, you’re burnin’ up. Might be running hotter than I normally do…”

His words are laced with concern as he heads to your shared bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with as cold of water he can get before wringing it out. For good measure, he grabs the thermometer and to confirm his suspicions.

“Open up for me, baby.” He brushes his thumb over your cheek and your eyes finally open when you bring your hand up to touch the cold cloth on your forehead. “‘Ts cold…” you mumble and he slips the thermometer underneath your tongue. “Yeah and you’re hot—“ he waits for the thermometer to finish rereading before he adds: “101.9 to be exact.”

You try to sit up, “I’m fine…”but the pressure in your head is too much so you flop back down into the pillows. “I don’t know what year you think I was born, but I know what fine is. And you, are not fine.”

“But the kids— they have school, you have work— I have things to do around the house.” You try to protest in between a fit of coughs, but he plants an arm against the bed, palm down at your side caging you in. “you know the hag— my mom,” he corrects when you give him the glare, “she loves taking them to school. Eijiro too. I could call either one and they’d drop ‘em off. And with work, that’s one of the perks’a bein’ your own boss.”

He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, trying to hide the wince at how warm your skin is. Gods you must feel like shit. “Lemme call my mom—“ he steps out of the room and gently closes the door, calling in a favor to the woman who always saves his ass.

‘Yeah, y/n sick, real sick. Need someone to drop off the beats at school. What? Morning sickness? No she’s not pregnant again. She’s sick sick. Got’a fever of almost 102. Yeah, they ate. Yes, lunches packed. Ugh— what kinda father do you think I— mmgh. Thanks ma. They’ll be ready for ya.’

He comes back in the room slight shake to his head as he thinks back to the conversation he just had with his mom. Your youngest is 6 and she’s been itching for another grand baby, but that’s too bad. She’s got two good ones to love on anyway. “Moms comin’ to pick em up in 15.”

The two of you can hear the padding of feet running down the hall and your two replicas appear in the door frame.

“Mommy what’s wrong? Did you catch a bug?” Your 8 year old son asks you as he pushes his hips to the bed. He may have his fathers eyes but he’s got your color hair and the sweetest personality to match.

“Ew! Why would mommy catch a bug!! That’s so yucky!” Your daughter chimes. She’s got that ash blonde hair to match her fathers and definitely gets his personality.

“Yeah, squirt, mama’s not feeling great so your Gramma Mitsuki is gonna take you to school.”

“Katsuki— you really shouldn’t have asked your mom to come all the way here.”

“You say all the way here like she doesn’t live 8 minutes down the road.” He smirks at you, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna miss the opportunity to be involved in your kids’ lives.

“Daddy, why can’t we stay and take care of mommy like she takes care of us when we’re sick?” Your boy asks with those gorgeous ruby red eyes peering down at you. “You guys have to stay in school and get good grades. You wanna have your own agency and be the number one hero like your daddy don’t you?” You smile at the two of them and lift your hand off the bed to cup their cheeks one at a time.

Your daughter flexes her little muscles and grits her teeth. “Yeah mommy! We’ll get strong so we can take good care of you some day!”

Each of your kiddos leans in to place a kiss to your cheek, it’s no use trying to stop them either. They’re both stubborn, just like you and Katsuki.

“Go get cleaned up before Gramma gets here— and don’t think I can’t smell the syrup on those sticky fingers, you little shits!”

It’s no use trying to protest the language when you hear the fit of laughter and screams as they run back down the hall.

Katsuki gets up to make sure they’re heading out to wash up and grab their school bags while he makes another call to the agency, letting Mina know he won’t be in.

You’ve nearly fallen back asleep by the time he comes back with a hot bowl of homemade soup, a freshly squeezed cup of orange juice, a ginger shot and two pieces of toast. “They’re right ya know. You’re like super woman to them— and even she needs help sometimes.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and turns on the tv for some back ground noise before he grabs his computer and sits next to you in bed.

“Katsuki. You’re gonna get sick if you stay here—“ you try to protest and he just smiles and puts the cold rag on your forehead. “Yeah… and when super man needs help; I know you’ll be there too..” He lands a fat one right on your lips and smiles. The two of you share everything together. Even the cooties…

#tays sick writes #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #katsuki fluff #husband bakugour #dad bakugou #sick reader #comfort kat

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idkfitememate · 5 months

Text

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2(You are here!), Pt. 3

So… you may have head but Razor.

BUT IT WAS IN SELF DEFENSE YOU SWEAR!

He just, POPPED UP outta NOWHERE! How else were you supposed to react?! By not attacking on sight???

So now here we are. With a knocked out Razor on the grassy floor as you and your family of churls and slimes stand over him.

Huh.

You had no fucking clue what you were supposed to do now. Do you… drag him out of the forest? Find a wolf from his pack??

Maybe not the last one cause wolves eat boars…

Anyway.

Dragging him out means that you’d have contact with other characters and you were NOT prepared for that. I mean, at this point you had built such a strong connection with the mobs around you that you kinda forgot about the characters?

You also had to focus on the fact that you were a boar now. Not a human. For survival.

You are now something that poofs into meat after it dies.

So as you stared, you failed to notice a rustling of bushes behind you, but when another human form rose from them…

You ended up kicking Bennett in the head via hind legs.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

So, apparently churls enjoyed the average human sacrifice every once and a while. Which is fair cause sometimes you gotta let off a little steam, you know?

But not like this.

The two were tied to a rather long stick over a fire as churls of every type danced around while singing.

You simply sat your fine boar ass in the grass looking a little less than pleased at the situation.

As they continued to roast the preteens over an open fire like chestnuts, you finally realized that “Holy shit they are actually cooking them I need to stop that-“.

And stop that you did!

By spitting up the equivalent of a lake onto their fire.

…Cool.

As water logged churls stood by in shock, you began to nibble at the startlingly strong vines wrapped around the duo.

And by gods those were strong vines.

But your jaws were stronger.

And now you have two children at your feet, drenched and still somehow passed out Jesus it’s been a few hours how hard did you hit them?-

And now you had no clue what to do. Right back at the same dilemma that made you hesitate to save them. Wtf do you do with them now???

Your hesitation was apparently apparent as you felt a had rake through your fur. Looking back you noticed a hilichurl petting you softly, gently directing you towards an opening in the forest.

Allowing it to guide you, you found that a couple adventurers from the guild calling out for Bennet.

Fuck.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Now they were tied to a tree deeper in the forest. Only difference is that they were now awake.

And thrashing about.

And maybe a bit sacred.

You sat on your haunches in front of them as they thrashed against their bindings. Something you noticed was that they weren’t using their visions.

…Weird.

Anyway as you continued to stare at them and them at you are they pulled against the vines, you noted that Bennett had stopped and was now just staring at you.

He was opening his mouth.

Holy shit was he gonna speak to you?

“Hey there little guy..?”

HOLY SHIT BENNETT SPOKE TO YOU-

“W-would you be a good little boar and get help?.. or something?.. please?”

Your only response was a snort, then you turned to Razor. You wanted to see if he’d have anything to say.

(Not that that was gonna change anything you’d still help them-)

“Uhh… Good boar? Friendly boar? Boar smell weird… boar help Bennet and Razor??”

Yep you loved them.

Giving a small squeal, you finally made up your mind. This was enough human interaction for a while, so you’d find a wolf, bring it back and then let it guide them to the Wolvendom in order to drop them off with Razor’s pack.

While you stood triumphantly with small sparkles surrounding you, the two boys sweat dropped at the sight of a somehow smug boar?

Boars can’t move their faces like that, can they?

Bennett hesitated… can they?

Coughing and shaking his head, Bennett finally noticed you were walking away and the hardcore growling Razor was doing.

“Hey! W-where are ya going little guy?” He called out.

You just turned, snorted, then continued on your way.

“W-wait!”

“Stupid weird smelling boar…”

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Trotting across hills and avoiding the odd traveler as best you could, you finally found yourself at the Wolvendom. Shaking off your nerves, you head inside.

You slowly made your way through the grass, acutely aware of all the wolves surrounding you. Letting out little huffs you found yourself in a clearing.

A clearing….

Wait….

OH SHIT-

“Hello little one.”

ANDRIUS YOU FORGOT ABOUT ANDRIUS-

“What is a small boar like you doing here where it is not safe?”

His voice had a teasing tone to it, which confused you. This was the literal Wolf of the North, the man who embodied wolves. An actual GOD of the pack. Why wasn’t he hunting you down on sight???

Your confusion was plastered on your face, causing the wolf to chuckle.

“As a creature connected to Teyvat, did you not expect me to realize when The Creator stands before me? My head bows to you, O Mighty One.”

And now a kneeling Andirus was in front of you, as well as seemingly every wolf in the forest.

… So they weren’t going to eat you. Nice to know.

As you tried to communicate with the large blue and white wolf what you needed, only small squeals and oinks made it out. God this was pissing you off. With the churls, they just seemed to know! While it would be nice to talk with someone, you hadn’t needed to for a long while. This was bullshit! Now you’re getting pissed off!-

“Breath my Lord. Have you forgotten?”

Forgotten what? Huh?-

“It seems you have, the boar is not your only form. Any beast that has its soul connected to the heart of Teyvat. Every creature, every animal, they are you children. You have taken the forms of all as you encompass all. Try taking the form of a wolf and speak to me.”

He was acting like a god damn tutorial. Which… was actually fairly needed in this time of… well, need.

So you could do other animals huh? Let’s just see about this. Focusing all your willpower into it, your skin began to shift and turn, fur growing longer… slowly you transformed…

Into a fucked up half boar half wolf abomination.

AND JESUS DID IT HURT-

Loud whines and whimpers mixed with loud squeals and barks left you maw as you hopped around, before forcing yourself back into your now more favored form, a boar.

Yeah never again. You’d rather struggle.

Sighing and placing ‘shapeshifting’ on the back burner for now, you simply walked forward and grabbed some of the larger wolves fur in your mouth in order to drag him. Staring down he let out a small chuckle (He can chuckle???) and began to walk forward, allowing you to trot in front of him.

“Of course my Lord, lead the way.”

Thank the gods he had nothing to say about that mishap. (Maybe he was scared of you smiting him… hehe…)

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Keeping a brisk pace, your small form had finally found itself in front of the two boys once more. It seemed as though they had tired themselves out from struggling, but we’re still awake. And Bennett’s eyes lit up upon see you. As they should.

“Hey there little guy! Did you get h-h- OH MY BABRBATOS!-“

Andrius, in all his glory, walked behind you as you sat there with a somehow even smugger expression than before. A large abundance of wolves had taken their place behind him, looking like a sea of grays and blacks.

“H-h-h-h-h-“ You’ve broken Bennett, now to check on Razor.

…The poor wolf boy also looked shocked.

You slid your tusks under the vines and pulled, snapping them off and allowing the boys to fall to the grassy floor. And then two hilichurls gave them their visions.

Oh. So that’s why they weren’t using them-

You watched as Razor nudged at Andrius and a few other wolves before turning to you.

He was walking towards you…

His hand outreached towards you…

And he rested it gently on your head.

You nuzzled in to his hand as small happy tears began to run down your cheeks. You basically rammed your head into his palm, sucking up all his attention. He seemed shocked, then happily began to rub both his hands into you, a small smile on his face.

Bennett watched with in astonishment, before grinning and laughing, rubbing your back with his hands. And h o l y s h i t did it feel good.

Hell, even Andrius began to nuzzle you.

At some point the petting stopped - which made you sad you will admit - but as you watched them walk off you felt pretty good about yourself because like, you just helped some characters! Even if you were the reason they were in trouble in the first place…

But that’s not the important part!

The important part is now you had some friends! And they were pretty neat.

But now you had to figure out how the fuck to deal with your newfound ‘shapeshifting’ powers… May God have mercy on all vision holders.

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Omake~~ A Boar and two Boys walk into a bar~~

“Is this the onE NO IT IS NOT RUN RAZOR-“

Ever since that day, Razor and Bennett have been trying to find that weird boar that both kidnapped then released them.

The reason they had been out that day was because it was Razor’s turn to hunt for his pack. Sure, wolves hunt in groups but Razor ironically enjoyed hunting alone, but Bennett was always welcome.

Razor had seen the boar, saying that it had “smelled weird”, whatever that meant, and began to follow it. Of course, Bennett lost him for a moment but when he found him, he was met with the back hooves of a boar.

And the rest was history.

When they went around trying to tell the tale of the boar that had summoned Andrius, the people of Mondstate thought it was just that.

A tall tale.

The only person who seemed mildly interested was the bard Venti, but that was quickly shut down when he started trying to figure out rhymes and how to make a song out of it.

So they decided to find it on their own.

“Bennett need to stop running up to boars. Razor will smell weird boar.” Razor had grabbed onto Bennetts shirt while saying that.

“But the faster we find it, the faster we can show it off!” Bennett argued.

The two began to bicker in the field they had been searching in, it was near where the forest they had found the boar in, and the field was currently occupied by boars so common sense dictated that it should be out and about, grazing away.

Of course, you don’t follow their stupid mortal logic.

“Do… do you hear that, Razor?”

“Yeah. Sounds like pig in sky.”

“Well pigs can’t fly so-“

“DUCK!-“

Razor forced Bennett’s head down, pushing them both to the ground as four wild winds whipped around them. A large dragon and a hawk flew by as an equally large lion and wolf speed past.

“The four winds…” Bennett whispered.

Razor sniffed the air.

“AND WEIRD SMELLING BOAR!”

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

WHOOOOO WHOOOO IM RIDING A DRAGOOOONNNNNNNNNNN-

Today was a good day for you.

Thank you to all who’ve enjoyed Boar!Creator so far! My inbox is always open for requests and what to do with Boar!Creator! Have a good day/night!<3 ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

(P.S. if you want to be tagged, don’t be scared to ask! I’m still getting used to Tumblr, so please let me know if I do it wrong! The same goes if you want to be removed!~ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)

(P.S.S. would anyone be interested in hearing about my Genshin OC’s/My personal Genshin AU ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა?)

Tag list: @genshin-impacts-me , @resident-cryptid

I apologize to anyone else who wanted to be tagged, Tumblr is beating my ass rn and not letting me tag anyone else! Sorry again!-

#genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau x reader #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Boar!Creator

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friedchickenluver · 7 months

Text

n2deep | full-length smut | modern!adult!zuko x f. reader

warning(s): sloppy oral sex (f. receiving), 69 position, mating press, rough sex, light spanking, squirting, dirty talk, car sex, implied recording, belly swells, dick imprint, cervix kissing, choking, ghetto ass bondage, breeding, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), rimming, anal thumbing, not proofread and I can barely write dialogue without cringing

wc: 2k+

notes: yeah i decided to post it on here.

•𑁍•

Zuko is the type of person to have and take you anywhere, all he needs is you and your body and the both of y'all were all set. Currently, your pussy is now being scrubbed over the landscape of his face, eating you out like some starved man. He had you upside down, face down and buried against his own burning arousal, hands gripping the middle of the console to keep you from falling forward, knees kneading into his toned chest and your feet being thrown over his shoulders. A familiar sensation of his smooth tongue slapping itself raunchily in between your lips, licking a prolonged stripe up from your very front making it to the very middle of your ass. He sucked in his cheeks rimming around your hole carelessly sucking in your muscles with help of an eager mouth slurping back up and reusing his bubbled up saliva.

You made a screwy noise once he slapped the sensitive flesh of your ass, every pop of his mouth going straight to a throb in your dripping clit. Your stomach churned up the heat of an oncoming orgasm, subtly mouthing at his dick to lap up the stream of precum spilling from the crest of his tip. It didn’t really have a taste, but you were so intoxicated on the aroma of his expensive cologne. It mingled on the inside of your nostrils, and so did his cum that burned down in there also.

He couldn’t help but to make a variety of content noises, continuing to drink up every drop of your ejaculation against his face, feeling a mouth sucking in the heat of his veins. The clashing temperatures between her seemingly cold mouth on fire that raged throughout his cock caused the man to buck up erratically to meet her mouth for more of the gratifying effect. Zuko pushed his thumb into the taut slot settled below her bottom, planting it there inside to lick back down into her actual nub of nerves. Biting it roughly triggered your head to shoot back up from her ministrations, coughing up a loud noise of pain into the muffled interior of the car.

A lip was pulled to be bitten down in the middle of two rows of teeth, humping back on his thumb made your eyeslashes flutter rapidly, throwing your eyes to the darkness of the back of your head. Clenching so hard around the digit made you squirt violently, coating his face with your intense finish. Everything you felt in that moment mustered up altogether in a drawn out moan of desperation. This is the third time you did that tonight and your body was basically convulsing from overstimulation, legs burning and going numb from the exhaustion of your muscles working tirelessly in one position to support yourself.

Sliding your legs from straddling his head, he instructed you silently to lie down onto the slightly damp leather seats below. You watched with your lips slightly parted and mouth drying up from overuse, Zuko grabbed the specific pair of panties you had worn that evening, tearing them apart to reduce it down to one long piece of cloth to tie your ankles together with. An involuntary flinch shook up the nerves running across her body as she gazed at him tearing up her underwear.

Legs instinctively holding themselves up in the air for him, a hand of his grasping your ankles to throw the ruined pair of underwear to bind up your legs along the shape of your ankles, kissing the sides of your feet soothingly to lull your nerves. The kisses were slow and calculated, his still damp right thumb massaging one of your feet as he kissed back up to your wiggling toes. Arousal pressurized within her body just by watching Zuko reciprocating the deep stare of blatant desire, in this small intimate exchange the air shifted slightly as he pulled your legs back with the grip on your panties with the ankles within them.

“Here, keep these in your mouth for me, so you can hold your legs back.”

Zuko took a few hurried intakes of breath watching her struggle to lurch forward to bite down on the thin fabric of her undergarments. All of her hamstrings ignited in a fire of stretch bringing her legs down in the mostly uncomfortable position he guided her into, wincing in acute pain, not noticing how a hand pushed her feet back to lift up her lower half to properly angle himself up to her gaping entrance. He cursed sliding straight into nothing but tightness, he had to ground your hips to keep from jerking away from the renewed connection.

Lumps balled up amongst the canals of her throat, she braced herself for his experimental movements at the edge of her pussy. Zuko had to place his hands digging into the seat on his left side in order to back up his starting pace up into her. Sinking down into her from above, reclining on one foot that dug into the carpet interior of the humid car, the other knee profoundly rubbing into the groaning material of the leather.

Throwing his head back with a long noise of satisfaction, he dipped your thighs back further until they were flush in contact with your contracting abdomen. His thrusts had you fumbling your words and choking on your drool, deep sighs excused as hushed whines. Syllables of all sorts fell from the corner of your mouth with the small starter trail of drool seeping out from your mouth. Suctioning slaps filled up the drums of your ears, easing their way to a faster pace. Zuko was known to have such impatience but god did his impatience know how to please you.

With each and every plop downwards, he exhaled nearly laboriously as sweat condensed around his hairline. Windows began to fog up from the heat of their bodies melding together deliciously, getting more and more reckless by the second he scooted his other foot to prop himself up on the creaking seat.

“That’s right, take this dick pretty girl.”

Nothing but an array of exaggerated moans and whines filled the silence of the car, and sobs that accented his hips landing down to drill through the gummy barriers of your sex. Your breasts bouncing around lewdly created another sight for Zuko to bask in as he never let up plowing inside of her.

Surely, the car had started to rock from his pace ricocheting throughout the entirety of the situation surrounding you two.

“Fuuck me!” You snarled out despite your underwear restricting your mouth, hands flying to scratch at his forearms possibly drawing blood from your nails burrowing past the thin layer of his milky skin. A slimey mixture of your wetness and his blossoming precum combined into a bubbly, translucent blend, his aggression splashed the fluid all over the contents of the car and themselves.

He’d fuck it so voraciously you couldn’t differentiate if you were peeing or squirting actively, whatever, the only thing on your mind was telling him how good his dick is. How his dick is the only one ever meant for you, each time you reassure that what he was doing was perfect, his length would hammer in your walls so good as physically possible. Zuko reached through your open legs to push downward on your throat to let him stand up a little more on his feet to beat down in your soaking wet pussy.

Instantly, the makeshift bound flew from your mouth as you screamed his name like a thousand times over, gritty noises of wailing cries from your soul itself as you tried to shove him out of you. Head slamming down on the door handle from him nailing down on your cluster of nerves just up behind your clit, you could’ve cried from the view of your juices spraying all over his gorgeous body. Your insides felt mixed around, reaching new depths you had no knowledge of being there. The swell of your stomach came from the sheer girth of his massive fucking shaft, rearranging the layout of your guts with such vigor.

“So fuuucking wet, so fucking- good. Cum on it f’me doll.”

His dick’s print bulging out on the inside of your stomach caused your vision to churn, unrhythmic moans in obscene noises displaced from his plunges forward. Zuko sped up impossibly faster, spanking down the underside of your ass with his pelvis viciously. It’s obvious there were some bright red mark down there, you’re now at the peak of your overstimulation twitching and jerking your body around the sticky leather from your sweat and never ending fluids. The jerks came in sprodiac groups, legs shaking violently in the air from sheer muscle exhaustion.

Deciding that you were literally at the crest of passing out, you rapidly tapped on the seat beside you to signal to Zuko that you were trying to tap out this round. Before you could even sit upright to remove yourself from him with slight movements, he hooked your legs with the aid of his powerful arms to pin you down altogether with most of his body weight.

“No, don't run now, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Oh if only you could even grasp at how pitiful of a wail that was punched out from you was, you were genuinely burning from a plethora of emotions, sensations, thoughts, words. It was crazy how he had you at his mercy and his will, if heat wasn’t already there it definitely came to wash in another wave over you. It all felt absolutely amazing on the precipice of an orgasm so great you’d think you died and went to heaven for the first time.

The blood that circulated throughout your veins ran freezing cold, eyes shooting open with your pupils narrowed and thin, back arching up into something practically inhumane. Your body spasmed out vehemently, yet nothing fell from your mouth, just silence for the moment of your climax. And so you officially collapsed back down onto the backseat, limbs all going into a limp jelly feel.

She continued to loudly moan, regardless of her finish, Zuko still hasn’t had his own fill yet. He rutted into her body to fuck her deeper against the material of the seats, thrusts growing reckless and overwhelming in pure force. The pure white ring of her finish accumulated around the base of his cock as he drove it a good inch further every single time he rocked back inside. Their combined fluids grew sticky from Zuko churning them into a disgruntled pulp, the micro-strings of ot all sticking to their bodies, mixing with sweat.

It wasn’t long until after a few more strokes that he came wholly, pressing down on your stomach to cave in his cum in the depths of your womb. Zuko groaned rather quietly, but loud enough for you to hear. The couple’s noises of gratification in sync as she squirted another few times.

Your eyes glittered as you checked out the state of the car in all of its glory, the windows were well fogged over, clothes thrown anywhere haphazardly, and the seat was completely covered in a puddle. The way your entire body quaked rapidly as he withdrew with a loud suction noise, a quiet chuckle came from above you, gaining your attention as he reached for his phone left in the driver’s seat.

“You mind?” Zuko said with a gentle, tired smile. You returned the warm visage, flipping over on your stomach to arch your lower half up in front of him. The flash flickered on illuminating the internal dark aesthetics of the Bentley they were currently in, preparing themselves for another senseless round. His essence leaked down the innermost parts of your thigh as he positioned himself up at your entrance, grabbing a handful of your ass.

────bloopers

“You owe me a shit ton of Chick fil a for what you just put me through.”

“Why not Wendy’s? It’s ch-“

“Don’t play with me Zuko.”

#atla zuko #fire lord zuko #avatar the last airbender #fanfic #zuko x reader #zuko x black reader #firelord zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko smut #firelord zuko #zuko x y/n #kinktober 2023 #[𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫‗ ❍]#smut #like a bit over the top lols .#✧*̥˚ [works] *̥˚✧

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waitimcomingtoo · 7 months

Text

Rumor Has It

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: chaos ensues when Peter suspects you may be pregnant

Masterlist

“Do we have any salt and vinegar chips?” You asked as you rummaged through the kitchen pantry.

“No, because those are disgusting.” Rhodey replied without looking up from his newspaper.

“Actually, they’re delicious.” You insisted. “Clearly someone agrees because they’re all gone. I need something bitter. Do we have any pickles?”

“I think we have some left over from Cap’s birthday blowout. I’ll help you look.” Peter got up from his seat at the kitchen table and went over to help you look.

“I’ll look too. I need some cheese balls.” Sam patted his stomach and went over to the pantry. What he found inside was a nearly empty bag of cheese balls waiting for him. Sam slowly held up the bag to everyone sitting at the kitchen table so that they could see it.

“Who ate all the balls?” He said calmly.

“It wasn’t me.” You answered.

“Not me. I don’t eat that crap.” Bucky scoffed.

“What do you call that then?” Tony asked and pointed to the pop tart in Buckys hand.

“Well it’s strawberry flavored, isn’t it? That’s a fruit.” Bucky replied.

“You’re a fruit.” Tony mumbled.

“Come on. Fess up.” Sam urged. “Who finished all the balls?”

“Not me.” Peter answered while everyone else stayed silent.

“Well it was fookin’ one of yus.” Sam snapped and threw the bag to the ground.

“Don’t look at me.” Tony held up his hands in defense. “I haven’t eaten cheeseballs since the 80s. That was also the last time I tried crack. Unrelated.”

“Someone needs to tell me who ate all the balls or there’s about to be an Avengers level threat in this kitchen.” Sam warned.

“I did it. I ate all the balls.” Carol confessed and stood up from the table.

“And just put back an empty bag? Don’t you think the rest of us would’ve liked some balls?” Sam asked as he slowly walked towards her.

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Or maybe I didn’t care.”

“Maybe you should care. I was looking forward all week to those nice, crunchy balls.”

“We don’t always get what we want.” Carol replied and narrowed her eyes.

“Why did we all decide to drop “cheese” and just say balls?” Peter raised his hand to ask.

“If you finished the balls, you should have replaced them with more balls.” Sam told her.

“I’ve been busy.” Carol shrugged him off.

“Doing what?” Sam scoffed. “Eating all the snacks and not replacing them?”

“Why’d you ask if you already knew?” Carol asked sarcastically, making Sam grow madder.

“I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll kill you harder.” Carol warned back.

“Guys. No fighting in the kitchen.” Tony quipped. “It makes the fruit go bad faster.”

“He’s right. The bad vibes make the banana go brown instantly.” You insisted. Carol looked down at the empty bag of cheese balls and sighed.

“I’m sorry I ate all the balls.” She said sincerely. “I’m on my period right now and I honestly don’t even remember doing it.”

“Fine. You get off the hook this time. But only because I don’t understand how periods work.” Sam said with the same sincerity.

“I can go get some more balls now at the store.” Carol offered. “I need ibuprofen anyway. My cramps are killing me.”

“Hey, sparkles, can you get me some cough stuff while you’re there? My throat is acting up.” Tony said and rubbed his sore throat.

“Why are you always sick?” Sam asked him.

“Your immune system gets weaker as you get older. This cold could very well be his last.” Peter pointed out.

“Thanks.” Tony replied sarcastically through a cough. Carol left for the store and you looked down at the cheese ball bag in confusion.

“What’s today?” You asked Peter.

“The 25th.” He replied. “Don’t ask me what day of the week though. I’ve never known.”

“Hm.” You frowned and put your hand on your stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

“My period was supposed to come on the 10th. I wonder why it’s so late.” You shrugged.

“Weird.” Peter shrugged as well and didn’t think anything of it.

“I guess these will have to do. As entertaining as this was, I’ll be in my room.” You said as you grabbed a bag of tortilla chips, kissed Peters cheek, and left the kitchen. Sam turned to Peter with an amused look on his face, making Peter frown in confusion.

“Uh oh.” Sam chuckled.

“What oh?” Peter asked.

“Nothing. Just don’t ask me to babysit.”

“Babysit who?”

“Your kid.” Sam said simply.

“What kid?”

“The one your girlfriend is pregnant with.” Sam said like it was obvious.

“What?” Peter laughed. “She’s not pregnant.”

“Did we just see the same thing? Her periods late and had weird food cravings? She’s definitely pregnant.” Sam insisted.

“He’s right. Only a pregnant person would willingly eat salt and vinegar chips.” Rhodey said from the table.

“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no way she’s pregnant.” Peter laughed it off but felt his stomach start to turn with anxiety.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t realize there was no way.” Sam snorted and looked Peter up and down. It took Peter a minute to realize what Sam was implying and he quickly shut that down.

“Now hold on a minute. Best believe I’m in my baby’s room every night leaving her adequately satisfied. I’m saying there’s no way she could be pregnant because we use protection. And because I have lighting quick reflexes.”

Tony threw a a buttered bagel at Peter from the kitchen table and it stuck to his chest. Peter looked down at the bagel before looking at Tony in shock.

“Why would you do that?” Peter asked.

“The question you should be asking is didn’t your tingle tell you I was gonna do that? Maybe your reflexes aren’t as quick as you thought.” Tony shrugged and went back to his breakfast. Peter peeled the bagel off and tossed it in the trash before looking at Sam.

“Do you really think she’s pregnant?” He whispered.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Peter asked back.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah. That’s a really good idea. Let me ask my girlfriend if she’s pregnant. That definitely won’t effect her self esteem in any way or make her mad at me at all.”

“You’re right.” Sam agreed. “You have to sleuth.”

“Or I could just wait until she feels ready to share the news.” Peter pointed out.

“No.” Sam shook his head. “You gotta go sleuth.”

And so, Peter left the kitchen to sleuth. He went to your room and pushed your door open to find you.

“Hey, honey bee.” Peter greeted you as he walked into your room. You were standing in front of your floor length mirror with your shirt pulled up a little.

“Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You asked as you examined your reflection.

“Uh….” Peter looked behind him for help getting out of this question. He ended up turning in a full circle twice and got dizzy.

“Peter?” You asked and rolled your shirt down.

“Ummmmm.” He stalled and pretended to take sudden interest in the things on your dresser. He knew girls had a record of asking things and wanting certain answers and he was almost positive that this was one of those questions. Your question had also watered the seed that Sam had just planted in Peters head about you possibly being pregnant. Peter knew he needed to avoid answering this question before you got suspicious that he might know something.

“Did you say something?” He asked you.

“I asked you a question.” You laughed at his obvious attempt at avoiding the question.

“You did? I must’ve miss that.” He played dumb.

“Just be honest with me. Do you think I’ve gained weight?” You repeated.

“I don’t understand the question, sorry.”

“It’s a simple yes or no question.”

“I’m confused. Are you asking me?” Peter forced a confused laugh and pointed to himself.

“Yes, you. You’re the only one in here. Do you think I’ve gained weight? Be honest.” You asked and looked back at your mirror again to see your side profile.

“In what regard?”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Just answer the question. I’m not gonna be mad. It’s not the end of the world to gain weight. I just want to know if you’ve noticed it.”

“I’ve never noticed anything. Ever.” Peter replied.

“Right. Thank you.” You chuckled and walked over to him to wrap your arms around his neck. He kissed you hello and momentarily forgot about what Sam had suggested.

“Why do you ask?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I was just getting dressed and I realized I used to put this belt on this hole but today I put it on the hole after that.” You shrugged and showed him your belt.

“Maybe it shrunk.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I grew.” You shrugged.

“You look beautiful either way.” Peter said sincerely. “Whether you got bigger or not. You’re still the only girl I want to holla at.”

“I think so too. Thanks.” You smiled warmly at him and rested your head on his shoulder to hug him. Peter wrapped you in his arms and sighed happily and you gently rocked back and forth.

“You’re welcome.” He answered. For a second, he wasn’t panicking about the possibility of a baby. Instead, he felt excited to start a family with the person he loved most.

Later in the afternoon, you and Peter strolled into the kitchen to get some snacks. Tony and Sam were making lunch while Carol restocked the snack cabinet.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s your cough syrup.” Carol said and gave the cough medicine to Tony.

“Thanks. My throat is killing me.” Tony sighed and cracked open the bottle.

“Here. We have measuring cups in the-“ You started to say as Tony took a long swig of the syrup.

“Or chug it. Okay.” You nodded while Peter stifled a laugh.

“Ugh. They can’t figure out how to make this taste any better?” Tony grimaced and wiped his mouth.

“I’ll make you some tea to wash it down.” You offered and filled the kettle with water.

“Thanks, kid.” Tony smiled. “I love when my annual man flu lines up with when you’re home from school. You’re so good at taking care of people.”

“Thanks for saying that. I don’t know what it is but I really like taking care of people when they’re sick. It makes me feel like a mom.” You said as you poured the hot water over a tea bag. Peter started choking on the water he was drinking while Sam gulped.

“You’re gonna be such a good mom.” Carol told you. “You’re so giving.”

“Aw, thank you. I hope so.” You smiled and patted your stomach twice. Peter and Sam exchanged a look with equal panic on their faces. Sam grabbed Peters arms and pulled him aside.

“Did she just pat her stomach?” Sam whispered.

“No way. This can’t be happening. You can’t be right. You’re never right!” Peter whispered back as he started to panic.

“Maybe this time, I was!” Sam whispered harshly.

“She can’t be pregnant. There’s no way. She would’ve told me.”

“She is telling you.” Sam insisted. “She’s dropping hints like crazy.”

“Oh my God. Why’d you have to put this idea in my head? I’m freaking out, man.”

“So am I. You think I want a spider baby crawling up the walls and shit like it’s the exorcist?”

“Technically the exorcist is the guy who gets rid of the demon. He doesn’t crawl up the walls. The possessed person does that. Well, I guess depending on the demon.”

“Jesus Christ. This kid is about to be so god damn annoying.” Sam sighed.

“You know what? No. She’s not pregnant.” Peter decided and walked away.

“Are you sure about that?” Sam called after him as he went back into the kitchen. When Peter got there, you were mixing honey into Tony’s tea while helping him with something on his phone. Peter watched you patiently teaching Tony and smiled to himself. He once again felt that maybe it would be okay if Sam was right. If you were pregnant, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. It was unexpected and jarring, but not impossible for Peter to handle as long as he had you.

The pregnancy rumor that existed between only Peter and Sam died down for the next few days. It wasn’t until a rainy Sunday that Peter thought about it again. You were watching a movie in the living room with some of the team when Natasha came in.

“Carol and I were gonna go train. You wanna join?” Natasha asked you.

“I would but my lower back is killing me. I think I slept weird.” You said and cracked your neck. Peter felt his face heat up when you said this, and Sam caught it too.

“Did you hear that? Her back hurts. Because of the baby!” Sam whispered to Peter.

“That’s not why. Didn’t you hear her? She said she slept weird.” Peter whispered back.

“Duh, she slept weird because of the baby!” Sam whispered again. Peter waved him off but couldn’t help but wonder if he was right.

“I could crack it for you.” Natasha offered.

“Could you? Thank.” You got off the couch and went over to Natasha. She wrapped her strong arms around you and was about to squeeze when Peter jumped off the couch.

“Not so fast.” He said and pulled you away from Natasha.

“What’s the matter?” You wondered. Peter was dumbstruck for a second when he realized he couldn’t say he didn’t want Natasha to crack your back incase her giant muscles squished the little baby in your tummy.

“I just don’t think it’s safe to be cracking her back if you don’t know what you’re doing. You could hurt someone.” Peter tried to explain but didn’t sound convincing.

“I’m not gonna hurt her. I’ve cracked her back plenty of times.” Natasha insisted and pulled you back towards her.

“Okay. Just be careful. Baby on board.” He mumbled the last part quickly.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“Nothing. What did you say?” Peter asked you to throw you off.

“I didn’t say anything. Weirdo.” You laughed at his odd behavior and let Natasha crack your back. Peter held his breath until you were safely out of her arms.

“Oh thank God.” He sighed. “We survived that. Cool.”

“Did you not think we would?” You laughed in confusion.

“I don’t know how to answer that question.” Peter answered honestly.

“You are being so odd lately. More than usual, you know that?” You chuckled as you pulled him back towards the couch.

“That’s just my boyish charm.” Peter laughed weakly and settled back onto the couch. He pulled you into his side and told himself that your back could be hurting for any number of reasons and didn’t necessarily mean you were pregnant. You watched the movie for a little bit until Peter felt you shift and wince a little.

“Are you okay?” He asked you.

“Yeah. My boobs are just sore.” You said and adjusted your bra uncomfortably.

“Why? Did you sprain them?”

“Um, no.” You chuckled. “I don’t even think you can sprain them. I must be PMSing.”

“Oh, thank God.” Peter said too enthusiastically. “Your period came?”

“No. Why do you seem so excited about it?” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. Peter gulped and avoided eye contact with you.

“Excited? I’m not excited. Your men’s trail cycle doesn’t evoke any emotions within me. But if you don’t mind me asking, how are you PMSing without the P?”

“I’m pretty sure the P stands for “pre”. But you still get the symptoms sometimes even if you’re not on your period.”

“Interesting, interesting. Follow up question, are you usually this off kilter?”

“You mean irregular?” You laughed. “No. I haven’t been late in years.”

“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh and tried to focus on the movie while his mind raced.

“You’re telling me. My boobs hurt like a bitch.” You whined and pulled the blanket up to your chin.

“Ahem, I could help with that, m’lady.” Peter smirked and held up both his hands. You looked at him for a long time with a disgusted expression before turning back to the movie.

“I want pretzels.” You said.

“Coming right up.” Peter jumped off the couch and ran to the kitchen. Sam saw him leave and got up to go after him.

“How’s it going?” He asked Peter once they were alone in the kitchen.

“I don’t know.” Peter sighed. “She hasn’t told me anything yet.”

“Is she showing any other signs?”

“She said she thinks she gained weight but I can’t really tell. I don’t think about that stuff. I just see her and I’m like “oh my god it’s a girl”. Have you noticed anything else?”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I saw her rip the wrong banana from the bunch and broke down crying.” Sam admitted.

“Oh no. Is craving bananas a symptom of pregnancy?”

“No, idiot. Mood swings are. For your future child’s sake, I really hope she isn’t actually pregnant. No one deserves this dumb of a father.”

“I know.” Peter whined. “What do I do? I’m freaking out.”

“I’m sure she’ll tell you soon. And if she doesn’t, you’ll find out anyway. It’s kinda hard to hide a pregnancy after a few months. Just relax, man.”

“Okay. You’re right.” Peter agreed. “I’m not gonna freak out until I know there’s something to worry about. Now excuse me while I pee out this apple juice.”

Peter walked away from Sam and went into the bathroom. After peeing, he blew his nose and went to throw it out when he saw something strange in the trash. He frowned and pulled it out before feeling all the color drain from his face.

“Oh no.” He said gravely. In his hand was a pregnancy test with two red lines.

“Positive? What? Are you sure?” Peter whispered harshly and shook the test. The lines stayed the same and Peter felt his stomach drop. All those moments of thinking everything would be okay seemed so far away now. Now that it was real and not just an idea, Peter felt overwhelmed. You were really pregnant and he really didn’t know what to do. He felt his heart start to race and he fell against the door with the test in his hand. You heard Peter thud against the door and went to go investigate.

“Peter? Are you okay in there?” You asked as you knocked against the door.

“Go away! I’m pooping!” Peter screamed as he ran the test under hot water to try to change the answer.

“Why is that always your response?” You sighed and walked away. Peter waited until you were gone before sneaking out of the bathroom. He went to go find Sam and yanked him into another room.

“Dude. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peter said and handed Sam the test.

“Oh shit. Are you sure?” Sam asked and shook the test.

“I already tried that. It’s true. She’s pregnant.” Peters mouth went dry as he said it out loud. It felt even more real now and he didn’t know how to handle it.

“Dude. This is serious. Aren’t you guys in like middle school?”

“We’re both in college. But still. I’m not ready to be a dad. I can’t even take care of myself. Look at this rash.” Peter whined and lifted his shirt to show Sam the red ring around his armpit.

“Oh my God. What the hell is that?” Sam grimaced and raised his hands to protect himself from Peters rash.

“A rash. Like I said.” Peter said flatly. “I think I’m allergic to my deodorant.”

“So use a different one.”

“But I like how this one smells. It’s called Flannel, see?” Peter said and got closer to Sam with his arm raised.

“Get your armpitt out of my face before I make it where you can’t have anymore kids.” Sam warned and Peter put his shirt down.

“What am I supposed to do?” He whined. “Mr. Stark is gonna kill me. And then May is gonna kill me. And then Y/n’s parents. I’m gonna die three times. Three times!”

“Yeah. No, I agree. You’re definitely fucked.” Sam agreed.

“What? That’s not helping!”

“I’m sorry dude, but how am I supposed to help you in this situation?”

“I don’t know. Tell me it’s all gonna be okay?”

“Is it? You’re not out of college yet and neither is she. Neither of you have jobs that can support a child. And it’s not like you live together either. Where would the baby even stay? Your crappy apartment? Or here at this tower full of nuclear weapons and glass windows that aren’t baby proof?”

“I didn’t even think of those things.” Peter realized and started to panic all over again.

“Clearly you don’t think at all. How did this even happen?”

“From sex.” Peter whispered and covered his mouth.

“I know that.” Sam rolled his eyes. “But don’t you guys use protection?”

“Of course. Always. Wrap it before you tap it. On god.”

“Well is she on the pill?”

“What pill?”

“You know. The pill.”

“Tylenol?” Peter asked.

“Oh my God. This poor baby.” Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“What am I gonna do Sam? I’m not ready to be a father. I only had one until I was 9. What if the kid turns ten? I don’t have any examples of being a father past age 9. What am I gonna do?” Peter whined and shook Sam by the shoulders.

“She could get an abortion?” Sam suggested.

“Maybe but that’s not up to me. If she wants to keep this baby, we’re keeping the baby.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. Have you ever babysat?”

“Just Ned’s tomagotchi. And it died. Like, immediately.”

“Well lucky for you, Y/n is gonna make a great mom. You’ve seen how caring she is. She takes care of all of us when we get sick. And she gets weirdly excited to do it too. If you so much as sneeze around her she runs to get you a thermometer and a blanket. And she knows all the passwords for streaming services.”

“You’re right. She’s got this. I can learn from her.” Peter said and started to calm down.

“Are you gonna tell her you know?”

“No. She deserves to tell me in her own way on her own time.” Peter decided.

“I think that’s smart. In the meantime, you should probably hit the books. There seems to be a lot you don’t know.”

“You’re right.” Peter realized. “I need to know what to expect when I’m expecting.”

“Can I be honest?” Sam asked.

“Sure.”

“I kinda thought that between the two of you, you’d be the one to carry the baby. Not her.” Sam told him.

“No, I get that.” Peter nodded in agreement.

That night, Peter opened his laptop and started to research everything he could on pregnancy.

“I’m gonna the father the shit out of this kid.” He whispered to himself before diving into his research. By the time the sun came up, his eyes were red and glazed over. His hands were cramping from all the typing and his back was stiff beyond repair. He had spent the night reading every article he could find and took extensive notes. He shut his laptop when he heard birds outside and padded out of his room. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw you about to take a bite of a bagel with lox.

“No!” Peter screamed and shot a web at your bagel. He yanked it away from you and threw it at the cabinet, where it stuck. Everyone turned to look at Peter and he felt his face heat up.

“What the hell was that?” You laughed in surprise.

“You can’t be eating that in your condition.” Peter blurted.

“What condition is that?” You asked and Peter realized he had said too much.

“Um, dating a boy who thinks fish is gross?” He smiled weakly.

“It’s just lox. Try it. I think you’ll like it.” You said and started to make another bagel. He realized that if he ate the rest of the lox, you couldn’t eat any. He had read in his research that uncooked fish was not safe for pregnant women to eat but it seemed like you didn’t know that yet. Keeping it away from you without telling you what he knew was his best bet.

“Okay. Yeah.” Peter reluctantly agreed and sat next to you at the table. You handed him your bagel with the fish on top and he gagged a little. Peter the opened his mouth and shoved the entire bagel inside. He chewed it slowly and gagged every so often.

“You ate the whole thing.” You said in disbelief over what you had just witnessed.

“Uh huh.” Peter said with a full mouth.

“Did you like it?” You laughed and wiped some cream cheese off his mouth.

“Yeah. Yummy.” Peter said weakly. He turned his head a little and gagged loud enough for you to hear.

“Peter, if you don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“I love it.” He lied and kept chewing. He slowly swallowed the massive bite and made a face as it went down.

“Do you want to throw up?” You asked him.

“Yes please.” He nodded. You brought Peter to the bathroom and held his messy hair back as he threw up into the toilet. Once it was all out, he rested against the wall. He caught sight of the garbage can, the very one ye had found your pregnancy test in.

“Soon, this will be me helping you throw up.” He said.

“What?”

“What?” Peter said quickly when he realized what he had said.

“Are you feeling okay?” You laughed and checked his forehead.

“Are you?” He genuinely asked, wanting to know if you were experiencing morning sickness yet.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Peter lied. You found his behavior strange but decided not to question it further. You knew Peter well enough to know that this was just how he behaved sometimes. You brought him back to the kitchen and made him some tea for his tummy as Peter watch d carefully from his seat. He felt himself relax for the first time since finding the test. Now that he had some some research and remembered how good you were at taking care of people, he felt more confident in your combined skills as parents.

That feeling was confidence was shaken later that day when Peter went into your room to find you. He pushed open your bathroom door and found you sectioning your hair into parts with the faucet running. Beside the sink was your hair straightener. Peter gasped dramatically and yanked the plug out of the wall before shutting off the water.

“Are you crazy? What the are you doing?” He asked as he took the straighter out of your hands.

“Doing my hair? Is that okay?” You laughed in confusion and reached for the straitened.

“You can’t be using this when the waters running. What if you drop it into the sink and get electrocuted?” Peter said as he held the straightener up.

“I’m not sure it works like that. I think it the sink would have to be full of water.”

“Oh. Well I don’t know how hair straighteners work, okay? I’m not God.”

“Peter, you’re being ridiculous. More than usual. Let me straighten my hair. I have to go out tonight.” You whined and took the straitener from him.

“Go out where?”

“It’s Kate’s birthday. We’re gonna go to karaoke and then go to a bar.” You explained as your ran a section of hair through your straightener.

“A bar?!” Peter nearly screamed.

“Yes, oh my God.” You laughed at his outburst. “What’s with you today?”

“What’s with me? What’s with you? You know you’re not supposed to drink when you’re…” Peter trailed off and you looked at him in confusion.

“When I’m what?”

“When you’re on medication.” He said quickly. “Obviously that’s what I was going to say. I saw you take Tylenol before. You’re not supposed to mix alcohol and medicine.”

“That was just for my back pain. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go out tonight.” Peter whined and wrapped his arms around you. You stopped doing your hair and turned around in his arms to face him.

“Why not?” You wondered.

“Because…” Peter trailed off as he desperately tried to think of something. He only knew one thing that would be sure to get you to stay.

“Because I’m not feeling so good.” He lied and faked a cough.

“Oh no. You’re sick?” You gasped and felt his forehead.

“Yeah. So sick. Tony must’ve given me whatever he has. I feel horrible.” Peter whined and clutched his stomach.

“But Tony’s throat was bothering him. Does your stomach too?” You asked when you saw what Peter was doing. Peter realized he was faking the wrong illness and nodded.

“Oh yeah. My throat and my stomach hurts. And I think I’m getting a fever too. And my toe fell off.” He laid it on thick to get you to stay.

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and pulled him into your arms.

“Baby?” Peter whispered in fear.

“I’ll take care of you, okay? I’ll tell Kate I can’t make it.” You smiled sweetly as you cupped his face. Peter felt bad for lying to you but he couldn’t let you go out drinking if you were pregnant.

“Thanks, honey bee. You’re the best.” He smiled back. You took his hand and brought him to his room to tuck him into bed. Peter felt guilty all over again when you went to go make him some soup. He was feeling perfectly fine so your efforts were for nothing. You came back and fed him the soup, making him feel even worse about lying.

“I feel like Peeta in the cave.” Peter joked as you held the spook to his lips.

“Ugh, dirty Peeta in the cave is so hot. I would’ve won the games with the things I’d do to that man on camera. I’ll tell you that.”

“Wait, what?” Peter sat up and looked at you.

“How about some tea?” You smiled sweetly as you changed the subject.

“Can we circle back to what you just said about-“

“I’ll go make some.” You cut him off as you left his room. You came back soon with a hot mug of tea for Peter. He was already sweating under the blankets you tucked him into and the hot soup, so tea was the last thing he wanted. But he felt that that’s what he deserved for lying to you.

“Oh, no. You’re so sweaty. You must be getting a fever.” You frowned once Peter had finished his tea.

“Oh no. Must be.” Peter laughed weakly and discreetly fanned his face.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You said and climbed into Peters lap. You started to kiss his neck and he went into high alert mode.

“What are you doing?” He asked and gently moved you back.

“Kissing you?”

“With a suggestive undertone.” He replied, sounding accusatory.

“Is that a problem?” You laughed and bent down to kiss his neck again. He pulled you off and looked at you in disbelief.

“You want to have sex? The very thing that caused this?”

“Huh? Caused what?” You asked.

“The pregnancy.” He said like it was obvious. Peter slapped his hand over his mouth as you tilted your head in confusion.

“Wait, what? What pregnancy?”

“Your pregnancy.”

“My pregnancy?” You asked as you sat back on your knees. Peter sat up as well and pushed the blankets off himself.

“I’m sorry. But I know.” Peter admitted with a sigh.

“Know what?” You laughed in confusion.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore, honey bee. I already know about the pregnancy.” Peter said as he took your hands.

“Wait, I’m confused. Who’s pregnant?” You asked him.

“You are.” He said simply.

“I’m pregnant?” You asked and pointed to yourself.

“Yes. You’re pregnant.”

“Me?” You asked and looked behind you for who else he might be talking to.

“Yes, you.” He urged and shook your hands.

“Hold on. Who told you I was pregnant?” You laughed at how serious he was.

“You did.” Peter said like it was obvious.

“Me?” You questioned and pointed to yourself again.

“You’re the only one in the room right now.”

“Peter, I never said I was pregnant. I think I would remember saying something like that.”

“That’s because you didn’t say it with words. You’ve just been dropping hints like crazy. The sore back, the eating of salt and vinegar chips-“

“Those are-“

“No they’re not.” He cut you off before you could defend them.

You stared at Peter as you tried to gage if he was being serious or not. He stared back at you as he tried to figure out if you were upset or relieved that he knew.

“Also I found this positive pregnancy test in the trash.” He said as he pulled the test out of his pocket. You took the test from him and looked at it for a long time. Peters heart raced as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you flipped the test over and showed him what it said on the back.

“This is a strep throat test.” You said calmly.

“What?!” Peter shrieked and took the test back. Sure enough, the back said “rapid strep throat test” in raised letters.

“Tony has strep throat. You knew this.”

“This looks exactly like a pregnancy test.” Peter defended as he showed you the test again.

“Peter, this looks nothing like a pregnancy test. Do you know what a pregnancy test looks like?”

“Apparently not.” Peter scoffed. You stared at him for a minute before cracking up laughing.

“You really thought I was pregnant? That’s why you didn’t let me eat fish or straighten my hair? And tried to stop Natasha from cracking my back? Which I still don’t see the correlation, by the way.”

“I didn’t want you or the baby to be in harms way. What if the straighter shocked you and the baby came out like the Flash? What if it just ran right out of your womb? Or what if Natasha squeezed you so hard and the baby popped out like a rocket?”

“You know shocking little about pregnancy.”

“I know. But as nervous as I was, I was also kinda excited.” Peter admitted. “I know you’re the person I’m gonna be with forever. It would be nice to have a little one that was a combination of the both of us.”

“And one day, we will have one.” You assured him. “And hopefully, they’ll inherit my intelligence over yours.”

“I hope so too.” Peter chuckled. You leaned down to kiss him and he felt himself fully relax for the first time in days.

“I hope you know that if we do have a kid one day, you’re carrying it. I’m not getting fat.” You told him once you pulled away.

“I don’t know if that’s medically possibly yet. Not for cis men, anyway.“

“We’ll find a way.” You shrugged. “We can ask Bruce. You can be like a seahorse! Or Cosmo from the Fairly Oddparents.”

“I’d do it for you, honey.”

“I know you would. That’s why I know you’re my forver person too.” You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. Peter pulled you into his lap and slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss.

“So, now that we know you’re not pregnant…” Peter trailed off and played with the buttons on your shirt. You caught on to what he was suggesting and laughed as you pushed his face away.

“Not a chance.”

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade-blog @boogywoogywoogy @ciarahollands

2K notes · View notes

cozage · 8 months

Note

Coza! congrats on 2K followers. I like your smuts and i don't know what. idea I want.CouldI request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy + ace + Zoro + sabo + taking care of you when your sick.

I am actually very sick today so this one was nice to think about :)

Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Ace, Zoro, Sabo CW: I didn’t proofread this forgive me for errors Total word count: 860

In Sickness and Health

Luffy

He is worried sick about you. He spends the whole morning just trying to get you to laugh.

He tells jokes, makes funny faces, and plays pranks on Zoro. Anything he can think of to get you smiling and laughing.

Sometimes he succeeds in getting you to laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit, so he eventually gives up on the laughing endeavor.

Instead, he climbs into bed with you and pulls you flush against his body. He holds you and whispers sweet nothings into your ears to lull you to sleep.

He wipes the sweat off your brow and rubs your face with a cool rag when you get hot. Even when you're asleep, he still does it.

When it’s time to eat, he doesn’t ask for your food. It’s probably one of the first times in his life that he hopes there are no leftovers. He knows you need the food to get strong.

And when you finally get out of bed, he bounces with joy, excited to resume his normal routine with you again.

Ace

Ace doesn’t know what to do when he wakes up and you’re the warm one in the bed. So he runs to get Marco.

“They're fine,” Marco says. “It’s just a fever. It will pass.”

“Can’t you just heal them?!” Ace whispered, looking at you nervously.

“With little things like this it does more harm than good. Let their body fight it. If it’s still bad in 24 hours, come back to me.”

Ace is so worried he doesn’t eat. He doesn’t leave your side. He had tried to cuddle up to you, but you had kicked him away.

Now he sits on the floor beside the bed, his hand outstretched and intertwined with yours as you sleep.

He only wakes you to drink water and to eat. Even though it’s the last thing you want, he makes you consume something to keep your energy up.

After a few hours, he still hasn’t moved from his spot, and you finally allow him to rejoin you in bed. The heat is still miserable, but at least he’s a comfy pillow.

The next night your fever finally breaks. And though you’re still miserable, at least he knows you’re going to be okay.

Zoro

Zoro was surprised that you weren’t out on the deck by mid morning. You hadn’t had a particularly late night, so it strikes him as strange.

As he opens the door to your room, you groan and roll away from the light.

He barks out a laugh. “That hungover? I didn’t even see you drink!”

“Migraine,” you moan, pressing your hands to your temple as you speak.

“Oh.” Zoro's voice instantly drops several octaves. “What can I do?”

“Just come lay here with me.” You stretch out an arm to him, beckoning him into bed.

He has no option but to join you, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you and flexing against you. You feel safe in his arms, and slip into unconsciousness immediately.

When you finally wake up, the sharp stabbing has left, but Zoro still has you firmly in his arms.

“Are you hungry? Do you-“

“Shower,” you cut him off with your own words. “I’d really like a shower.”

So he leads you to the bath house and he gingerly washes your hair and your body as you keep your eyes closed, trying to minimize the effects of your migraine.

When you finish in the shower, he silently takes you back to your room and the two of you lay around for the rest of the day, quietly talking or sleeping or just enjoying each other's company.

Sabo

“Soup?” He whispered, cracking the door open just a tad as he held a bowl.

“How’d you know?” You groaned, throwing a pillow over your head.

He laughed, deciding not to tell you how it was almost noon. He knew you weren’t always an early riser, but you were only in bed at this time if you were sick.

“I called out, so we can-“

“Sabo!” You cried. “You shouldn’t have called out!”

“But you’re sick.” He held out a book. “I got you a new book and everything.”

You hummed in delight, taking the book from him and setting it down on the nightstand.

“Do you want to be alone, or can I join you?”

You really didn’t want another body in the bed with you while you were feeling so gross. But you also didn’t want to be alone.

“Can you just stay in the room?” You asked.

“Let me grab some work, I’ll be right back.”

He worked quietly at his desk in your room, only taking breaks to fetch you water or food or anything else you would ask for.

And you fell asleep to the quiet scratching of his pen, sleeping well in the fact that he would never leave you alone when you needed him.

1K notes · View notes

handful0fteeth · 2 years

Text

hot for teacher

summary: you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, dirty talk, (slight) rough sex

words: 13.6k

EDIT (09/24/2023): i am not a “no beta we die like men” person, but this?? she was not up to my standards. so i fixed her! enjoy ya horny bastards

"You know I heard Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"

This announcement from your best friend is enough to make you choke on the mouthful of sandwich you're chewing on and spew chunks of it all over the table.

You drop your food noisily back onto its plate and reach for your drink, struggling to breathe while there's still turkey and lettuce lodged in your esophagus. The diner's patrons ogle you as you attempt to collect yourself, some concerned, some plain annoyed.

"Christ, dude!" Kelsey laughs, leaning over the table and thumping you hard on your back. You wave her hand off and guide your straw into your mouth, desperately gulping down Coke with one hand pressed to your chest as if that’ll ensure the food doesn't take a wrong turn on the way down.

"You have to - fuck, dude - you have to give a girl some warning before you just say shit like that, Kels," you sputter. You wipe a hand across your damp eyes and take a couple of steadying breaths, and finally, the reality of what Kelsey just said hits you. You look up and blink away the tears to get a clear look at her.

"Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?" you ask quietly, not wanting to attract any more attention. Kelsey nods, a smug grin plastered across her face. "Apparently, it's like a dog trying to drink water," she giggles. "Katie Kaspbrak went out with him last week, and she's been telling everyone how God-awful he is at head."

"Katie Kaspbrak? The same girl who swore half of the staff at school was in love with her?" You lean back against the cool vinyl of the booth and cough lightly, suddenly less interested in this gossip now that you've learned the source.

Katie Kaspbrak would lie about what she had for breakfast if she thought it would make her seem more interesting. Actually, now that you think about it, she has done that.

"That's what I thought too," Kelsey continues, "until Belinda Carter and Donna Greene overheard her, and they said the same thing. Belinda said she was so shocked that she just faked it until he thought she came and then made an excuse to leave."

You pause. Katie Kaspbrak is one thing, but two other girls? That can’t all be a coincidence.

But… it's Steve Harrington. Every girl - and some of the boys - you've ever spoken to have the hots for him, whether they want to admit it or not, and how could he be so sought after if he gives such a piss-poor performance at something so fundamental? You pick at an errant lettuce leaf that juts out from the edge of your disheveled sandwich, pretending to find it fascinating so you don't have to look at Kelsey's elated expression anymore.

"Why are you waiting until now to tell me this?" you ask. Kelsey leans back in her seat and pops a french fry in her mouth, glancing at the dusty clock that hangs in the diner's lobby.

"Just wanted to give you something to look forward to before your date, Y/N," she says with barely contained glee. "I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow." You shoot her a dirty look.

"Who says we're even gonna go that far tonight?" you counter, but you both know you're full of shit. You look down and pick at the skin around your fingernails to avoid Kelsey's knowing gaze because if you meet it, she'll see the uncertainty written all over your face.

She loves messing with you like this; she's done it for almost every date you've ever gone on, regardless of who it's with. You pick up your sandwich and take a too-big bite to avoid having to talk anymore.

"Yeah, right. You've wanted to bang Steve since the moment you saw him, but you'll magically dry up the second you get the chance. Sounds legit."

You stick out your tongue, letting Kelsey get a nice view of the smushed-up chunks of meat and bread hanging off it, but it doesn’t deter her snickering.

Her smug declaration is all you can think of for the rest of the day. It's so distracting that, while getting ready, you accidentally kiss the burning hot barrel of your curling iron to your temple and put your shoes on the wrong feet twice.

Who says that you have to go down that path tonight, anyway? Who says Steve is even the kind of dude to want to fuck on the first date?

Well...everyone who attended Hawkins High says, actually. Son of a bitch.

Perhaps you could just go down on him and insist he doesn't have to return the favor; it's not like most of the guys you've been with haven't leaped at the opportunity to skip the preamble and shove their dick in something anyway. The only problem with that is…you really wanna fuck Steve Harrington.

Really, really badly.

And you want it to be as good as it possibly can be. You've wanted this for years, and now that you've both graduated, who knows how long Steve plans to stick around in Hawkins so you can have your chance?

The time Steve promised he'd pick you up rolls around quicker than you'd anticipated. In the mirror, you smooth down your skirt one final time and fluff up your curls.

Kelsey doesn't know what she's talking about, you decide. Who were you to listen to gossip spread around by Katie Kaspbrak anyway? You practice smiling brightly in the mirror and notice a smear of lipstick across your front teeth. You lick at the stain and then rub it away with your index finger. It would be fine.

Everything would be fine…right?

A car horn beeps twice before you can successfully reassure yourself.

He's here.

Oh, God.

You fly down the stairs two at a time, briefly worrying about how humiliating it would be to crack your head open before your date and snatch your purse off the kitchen table as you say goodbye to your mother. She reminds you of your curfew, and you give a vague acknowledgment as you pull the front door shut behind you.

In the faint evening light, Steve's maroon BMW is almost black, glimmering in the sour yellow streetlight like the shell of a beetle. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you croak a "Hi!" around it. Steve Harrington climbs out of his car gracefully, and his easy smile, accompanied by the bouquet of flowers he has clutched in his hand, is enough to make your knees wobble a bit.

"You look really pretty," he says, eyes flickering up and down your body. You're grateful for the dim outdoor lighting as your face flushes scarlet. "Thanks. Are those for me?" you ask, pointing at the bouquet. You wanna kick yourself as soon as you finish saying it. Of course, they're for you, you absolute buffoon. You’re on a date - who else would he be carrying flowers for?

Steve chuckles chuckles under his breath and extends them toward you. "You said these were your favorite, right? I saw 'em while I was getting stuff for tonight, so…Yeah." You gingerly take the flowers from him and bury your nose in the petals, inhaling their fresh scent as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides, though his expression remains as casual as ever.

Is he…nervous?

He reaches in front of you as you walk up to the passenger side of the car and opens the door, bowing his head and gesturing for you to come inside exaggeratedly. You giggle and sink into the leather seats as he scurries around the car's hood. As he swings the door shut behind him and settles in behind the wheel, you silently draw a few steadying breaths.

The inside of his car smells distinctly of cologne and floral soap, so much so that you have to briefly wonder if he got his car detailed in anticipation of your date. His cologne is woody and sweet, not so strong that it stings behind your eyes, but you know the scent will stick to your clothes whether he lays a hand on you tonight or not. The thought makes your stomach flutter a little. As he revs the engine, you absently twirl the stem of a flower around your finger.

"By the way," he says as he pulls out of your driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. "If you hear something clunking around back there while we drive, that's just Lucille."

You cock an eyebrow. "Lucille?"

You swear you see the ghost of a knowing smile creep across his lips, but an evening shadow cuts across his face before you're entirely sure. "Just a safety measure, that's all."

~~~

The date is more perfect than you could have ever imagined it to be. Steve takes you to a restaurant near the video store where he works, a little Italian place that's surprisingly upscale - at least, upscale for Hawkins. Your fingers don't get the opportunity to graze a door handle or the back of a chair the entire time, as he's always right behind you, reaching around your body to beat you to it.

His gaze never leaves your face when you talk, and he's so clearly hanging on every word you lose your train of thought a few times. It's jarring to have the guy you've been obsessed with for so long give you his undivided attention - in a good way, of course, but that doesn't stop the words from getting caught in your throat.

He’s so pretty it's hard to maintain a coherent thought; all you want to do is stare at him and memorize the details of his face. The way his hair gently curves over his forehead, and he pushes a hand through the soft fringe to get it out of his eyes; the way his eyes sparkle in the warm, low light of the restaurant, transfixed on you like you're the single most intriguing thing he's ever laid them on.

You're not even halfway through offering to pay for half of the meal when he informs you he slipped his card to the host before you were even sat, and it's already taken care of. You insist he at least let you cover dessert - a small square of tiramisu you both nibble at - but he waves you off.

"You can pay for the next date," he says coolly, smiling behind a sip of his drink. You pull the cloth napkin from your lap and pretend to dab food from your mouth so you can hide your giddy smile and blushing cheeks. Next date, huh?

After dinner, he drives you to the outskirts of Hawkins, parking in a clearing in the forest that overlooks the blinking lights of the small city below. You have a perfect view of the moon as it gleams in the sky, full and white, and the stars glitter against the black velvet of the night without all the light pollution.

You sit on the hood of his car, legs crossed under you, picking at a loose thread on the hem of your skirt as it pools in your lap. You tug a too-big jacket tighter around your shoulders, a gift plucked from his trunk once he saw you shiver from the autumnal air against your skin.

Steve is leaning back on his palms, head dropped between his shoulders as he stares at the sky. Goosebumps ripple across his skin, and every so often, his body twitches forward with a slight shiver, but he seems content enough in his short-sleeved shirt.

He catches you staring and chuckles when you avert your eyes and pretend to be fascinated by the paint on his car.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asks.

"A cute guy," you respond, your voice smaller than you intended. You clear your throat.

"That's so funny; I was just looking at a cute girl!" he exclaims, and you laugh. "Crazy how that works, huh?"

"Aren't you freezing?" you ask. Steve shrugs.

"I'm alright. It's refreshing. Keeps me awake," he murmurs.

A few minutes of silence pass comfortably. You listen to the sounds of the forest around you, only slightly concerned when you hear a twig snap in the distance or something rustle in the foliage beyond the car. But Steve's lack of interest in either puts you at ease. After a while, he points at a random spot in the sky and announces, "Found it!"

"Found what?"

"My friend Dustin - total nerd, by the way - was talking my ear off yesterday about constellations, like, how to find them and shit, and I found one!" He gestures for you to scoot closer without taking his eyes off his discovery, apparently not wanting to lose his spot. You do so, body hovering close enough to his that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin, and his cologne wafts pleasantly back up into your nose. You follow the direction his finger is pointing in, scanning the inky blackness of the sky.

"Do you see it?" he asks excitedly.

"Did your nerdy friend happen to tell you what this constellation was called?"

"Uh. Ursula…something…I think. He said it was "the littler one" of the two."

"Ursa minor?" you posit. Steve snaps his fingers and points at you affirmatively.

"There you go! Do you see it?"

You shake your head. The name is familiar, but you don't remember what it's supposed to look like. You mostly slept through your astronomy class in high school.

Suddenly, an arm drapes itself around your shoulders and pulls you in, and warm fingers caress the sides of your jaw, tilting your face further upwards. Apparently, Steve has decided that the best way to help you see what he sees is by manually guiding you in the proper direction, so he's pressed your bodies together and is trying to angle your head in just the right spot.

Your stomach flips, and your heart jumps into your throat. This time, you're worried you'll choke on it. You're sure Steve can feel the blush in your cheeks burning beneath his fingertips, but he's either too engrossed in Ursa Minor to care or is choosing not to mention it.

"Right…there. See?" Steve says, voice notably lower than before and now right against the shell of your ear. A shiver walks its fingers down your spine.

“O-Oh, yeah,” you stammer. You do see it, a tail of shimmering dots curling into a small rectangle of stars, but you're more focused on Steve's mouth right out of the corner of your eye, his lips parted and quirked up into a smile. His hair brushes against your cheek as he turns his head toward you, and his index finger presses itself against the curve of your jaw to encourage you to look at him.

His eyes shine in the moonlight, dark and kind, as they flit over the details of your face, lingering the longest on your lips. He's warm and solid against you, and you tentatively place your fidgety hand on his knee.

He's so beautiful, you think to yourself. It isn't a word you've ever used for the other men you've dated, but it fits Steve well. A square jaw still soft at the edges with youth, wide brown eyes framed by lashes so thick and long that they fan across his cheekbones when he blinks, full pink lips barely parted and pursed like he has something to say. Beautiful.

Steve’s finger slides down the edge of your face until it reaches your chin, pinching it between bent thumb and forefinger. He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath wash over your lips.

You, on the other hand, forget how to breathe entirely.

He hesitates, and you feel a tug in your stomach as the thought of him pulling away from you occurs. Does your breath offend? You did eat a lot of garlic bread at the restaurant. Maybe you should've packed gum in your purse -

"Is this okay?" he murmurs. You blink, a little caught off guard by the question.

“Huh?” Very astute.

“This,” he says, and his thumb presses itself briefly in the center of your bottom lip as if to punctuate what he means. “I mean…can I kiss you?”

You swallow hard to avoid swooning at the question and clear your throat. "Yes. Yes, please kiss me."

He barely even has to move to capture your lips, so softly at first, like he’s afraid you’ll suddenly change your mind if he applies more pressure. Electricity thrums beneath your skin, zapping every nerve you have until your entire body is lit up with excitement. Your free hand trembles as you rest it against his chest. His heart thumps wildly beneath your palm, indicating that Steve Harrington is just as nervous as you are right now. This helps you to relax a bit, strangely.

Steve's arm slides down from your shoulders to wrap around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. He smiles against your mouth as a contented sigh escapes you and pulls away just enough to mumble, "Still okay?"

You bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your fingers and bring your lips back together, kissing him with more fervor. He hums against your mouth, satisfied with his answer, and his smile grows almost imperceptibly.

When he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you gasp, and his hand slips up to the nape of your neck and buries itself in your hair. He doesn't pull, just holds you firmly in place, and though the act is relatively small, its possessive nature makes you unconsciously sink into his touch. Your mind races with thoughts of what it would feel like if Steve did pull, just a little - how your neck would bend forward, how your eyes would be forced skyward, and how you'd have no choice but to arch toward him as he kept you where he wanted you.

He keeps you still as he pulls away, chuckling at the little mewl that falls out of your mouth at the lack of contact. He soothes you with kisses peppered down the expanse of your neck, pausing only to nip and lick at random spots of flesh. You moan breathily into his hair as he sucks on a patch of skin just above the neckline of your shirt, and your hand creeps even further up his thigh.

"If you give me a hickey…my mom will kill me," you breathe, and Steve snickers against your neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks. The thought is enough to make your stomach sink with dread. You shake your head ardently. He grazes his teeth against your throat, his satisfied grin tangible against your buzzing skin.

"I didn’t think so."

He makes his way back up to your lips after sucking another hickey into your flesh, this time thankfully below where your clothing can cover, and doesn't waste a second slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You swear you'll turn to liquid any second now and slip straight through Steve's fingers. Steve tastes faintly of tiramisu still, and you eagerly chase after the taste, your tongues sliding against each other. The hand in your hair glides down your spine and pauses above your ass. His fingers twitch hesitantly against the hem of his jacket, hiking it up only to smooth it back down several times. He waits for you to move to give him some indication that you want to go further.

So, you oblige him.

You pull away, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips. It's Steve's turn to whine at the empty space where your mouth used to be, and it's a sound that resonates right into the fingers still curled against his chest. It makes a feral heat stir in your belly, and you make a brief mental note to find what else elicits that noise from Steve Harrington's lips later.

You decide if there was any moment in your life to be bold - it's right now. You use the hand on his chest to nudge him up the hood of the car so his back is flush with the windshield, and before he can question what you're doing, you swing one leg over his lap and sit, straddling him.

He takes a surprised breath and smiles at you, the moonlight making his eyes shimmer like liquid bronze. You kiss him again, and he boldly reaches down and grabs two generous handfuls of your ass. With a groan, you roll your hips back into him, urging him to grab more, grab harder.

Your hands grip either side of his slim waist and dip below the edge of his shirt. His skin is so warm compared to the chill of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to do anything to obtain more of his heat.

"Do you…wanna head inside the car?" he asks breathlessly, kissing the corners of your lips and down your jaw. "It's a lot more comfortable."

"I'm pretty comfortable right here," you say, and Steve laughs. He sits up straight and slots his hands under your knees, pulling you forward and down so you sit directly on his crotch. Despite the multiple layers of clothing between you both, you definitely feel something hard nudging at your inner thigh, and you let out a noise that's half surprise, half arousal.

"He's getting a bit restless if you catch my drift," Steve drawls, capturing your chin between his thumb and forefinger again. Your eyes flicker downward as if you’d be able to see with your legs and his jeans in the way. God, you want to see it, though, need to see it.

"'Course, if you're uncomfortable, we don't have to,” he says quietly, earnestly. “It’s up to you, Y/N.”

Your answer is to grind down on his dick hard enough that he pushes air out through his gritted teeth and grips your ass tighter. "Like I said," you purr against the shell of his ear, "I'm plenty comfortable."

Though Steve helps you back onto solid ground gingerly, there's a tautness to his muscles, a stiffness in how he moves that belies how desperate he is to get you into the car. He tries to adjust the front of his jeans casually, and you pretend to be staring into the treeline when he glances in your direction. You cock your head a bit in confusion when you notice him pull something long and thin out from below the backseat. It appears wooden, and the flared nub at the bottom is familiar enough that you realize it's probably a baseball bat. However, the top of the bat is oddly lumpy and seems to be covered in something spiky; you can't tell for sure what that could be because it's wrapped tightly in a tattered blue towel.

He pops the trunk and throws it inside, acknowledging your puzzled expression after slamming it shut with a calm smile. "Lucille," he says simply. You decide you'll ask about it later. If you remember.

What you do remember, as soon as your back is nestled against the interior car door and Steve slots himself between your thighs, fingertips pushing the fabric of your skirt further up around your hips, is the conversation you had with Kesley.

"You know Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"

You try to push the thought from your head by carding your fingers through Steve's hair, marveling at how soft it is while he plants kisses along your inner thighs. His lips brush across the intersection of your hip and thigh so gently that it makes you squirm a bit. Steve, despite your efforts, takes notice.

"Ticklish?"

"Uh. No?"

It's a lie. A bad one.

Steve smirks up at you and pushes your skirt past your pelvis, over your panties. Before you can stop him, his mouth is latched down over the sensitive juncture of your thigh, and you squeal in protest. Your breathless laughter and pleas for him to stop go unheeded, and he pins your writhing hips to the leather of the backseat so he can continue sucking a bright red hickey into your skin. Seemingly satisfied, he pulls off with a pop and strokes a finger over his handiwork. You bump his head with your knee, a halfhearted attempt to get him to stop prodding.

"Cute panties," he says lowly, and his finger follows the thick tendon that runs from your inner thigh to the edge of the cotton fabric. He drags the tip of it just underneath the seam of the gusset, pulling it far enough from your skin that it snaps back and makes you flinch. You remember agonizing over which pair to wear while you dressed - everything was too itchy, tight, plain, or extravagant for a first date. You only settled on the blush pink pair currently hugging your hips because they were the least offensive thing you could find.

You swallow hard, your hands fidgeting from their place atop your chest, and reflexively try to shut your legs. You're suddenly painfully aware of Steve staring at you, your most intimate part. A thin scrap of cloth is the only thing that separates your pussy from Steve Harrington's eyes, and while it's not like no one has ever seen you in states very similar to this, this time is…different.

The butterflies in your stomach are hammering against your ribcage and fluttering into your lungs, threatening to cut off your air supply entirely. You're sure you're going to suffocate before he can make any further moves, and you're gonna pass out right in the back of Steve Harrington's car before he's even really done anything -

“Y/N?”

Steve's warm hand squeezing your hip pulls you from your thoughts. You pull the pooled fabric of your skirt up against your stomach so you can look at his face. His expression is hued with concern.

"Hm?"

"Are you okay?" His thumb rubs in small, soft circles above the purpling hickey on your thigh.

"Yeah! I'm totally fine, I just…sorry, I kinda got lost in thought."

"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to, yanno, if you're feelin'...like, weird about any of this."

You shake your head and smile, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. "I'm absolutely fine, Steve. I promise you. Did you say something before? I didn't hear you."

"I, uh…" He curls the tip of his finger beneath the gusset of your panties again, this time tugging experimentally. "Just wanted to know if I could take these off."

Your face is scorchingly hot, and if it weren't for the shadows cascading over the both of you, you’re sure Steve would laugh his ass off at the shade of red your cheeks have achieved. Any verbal response you might muster is lodged impossibly tight in your throat, so you just nod, let your legs fall further apart, and lift your hips off the seat so he can work your panties down your legs.

He does so with something akin to reverence, inching the fabric further and further off your body until his warm breath unfurls over your bare skin in deep, measured breaths. He carelessly tosses your panties somewhere in the front of his car, eyes transfixed on the spot between your legs. You're torn between wanting to yank your shirt collar over your eyes so you don't have to look at the deferent expression on his face, the damn near worshipful look in his dark eyes, and wanting to sit up to get an even better look at him.

"Wow… you're…fuck." Steve Harrington is at a loss for words because of you. You keep the glow of pride you feel at that fact to yourself…for now. You pull your legs back toward your chest, hooking one hand under your knee ditch to hold it steady and give him a better look.

"Are you, uh…can I, like, eat you out?" he asks, and though part of you inwardly leaps for joy at the request, another part wants to suggest he do literally anything else.

You're being stupid, you chide yourself. Who gives a shit what Katie Kaspbrak or her stupid friends say? They're probably full of it anyway. Why are you entertaining the idea of telling Steve fucking Harrington he can't eat you out?

"Yes, please," you hear yourself breathe out despite your internal reservations. Steve smiles and raises a hand to replace the one keeping your leg pulled back. You take note of the way he licks his lips before he brings his mouth down against your pussy.

It's…well…it's interesting.

His tongue bypasses your clit completely and instead presses against your urethra, of all places. It isn't flat or relaxed; instead, a stiff pinpoint of muscle grinding uncomfortably into a spot that is decidedly not meant for that kind of stimuli. You shift, uneasy, but he seems to interpret it as a pleasured movement, which only spurs him on. He digs the tip of his tongue harder into your flesh, and you're grateful he can't see how your face is screwed up in distress.

Oh, God…oh, God. It really is awful. It's almost excruciating, and Katie Kaspbrak was fucking right. What do you do? What will he say if you tell him it's not good? Will he get embarrassed or hurt or even angry? Has anyone ever tried to tell him that this was wrong before?

You're conflicted and debating on just letting him finish up and possibly lying for the rest of time that Steve Harrington is a champion at eating pussy, until his tongue flicks upward and the unrelenting nub of his tongue stabs into your clit. You yelp involuntarily and yank your leg out of his hand, tightening your thighs. You press your fingers against your slit, hoping to soothe the throbbing ache Steve's harsh ministrations have brought on.

"What, what happened?" he asks, frantic, sitting up as much as he can in the confined space of the backseat.

He looks so much like a kicked puppy it's physically painful, maybe more painful than the burning sensation in your clit, and you consider for a moment just brushing it off as a leg cramp and letting him continue as if it's the best head in the world.

But you can't. You won't. If Steve doesn't know what he's doing wrong, he can't fix it, right? You just hope he's genuinely ignorant of how unrefined his skills are and not just overconfident and uncaring. The apologetic expression he's wearing is encouraging that it's the former.

"I…that hurt," you hiss between your teeth. "That hurt a lot."

"I'm so sorry," he says, reaching towards you instinctively, but then he seems to reconsider and takes his hands back. They rest atop his knees, clenching and unclenching, just like when he picked you up. "I…I thought that's what girls liked. I haven't…no one's told me any different, and I don't, like, have a bunch of practice - I mean, I've had practice, but no one's ever said anything before. I had no idea I was hurting you. I don't…I don't have to do that if you don't want it. I can do something else. I mean, Nance never really liked it when I did that either, so-"

He stops, eyes widening once it dawns on him what just came out of his mouth. Admittedly, you're a little shocked yourself. You attempt to keep your expression neutral to not make him feel worse, but you clearly fail because Steve cringes away when he catches a glimpse of your face.

"Shit…sorry. I shouldn't… it's not cool to bring up your ex on a first date. I know that. I'm sorry…Look, if you wanna go home, I get it. I kinda messed shit up, so I can-"

He's so fixated on his contrite ramblings that he doesn't notice when you sit up, nor when your hands cup either side of his face, and he only stops talking once you've pressed your lips against his, making it physically impossible. You feel the tension melt out of his body, and he tentatively grips your elbows.

"I'm fine," you start, leaning your forehead against his. His breaths escape in panicked, warm bursts against your lips. "I don't need to go home. I'm absolutely perfect here, with you. You didn't stab me with a burning hot poker or anything, so I'm doing pretty alright." The corners of his lips twitch upward in a sad suggestion of a smile. You should know better; you shouldn't ask about Nancy Wheeler even if Steve accidentally brought her up first, but you can't help the question that ripples from your lips.

"What do you mean, 'Nance never liked it?'" you ask carefully, and his muscles flex beneath your fingers. You're treading on thin ice. You rub your thumbs over his cheekbones, attempting to put him at ease and have his eyes meet yours.

"It's… it's stupid," Steve mutters, eyes downcast at his lap. "She…Nancy really, super hated it when I went down on her. I never thought about it too hard, I guess. I chalked it up to her being kinda uptight and just moved on, but now it makes way more sense. I suck. Of course, she hated it." He offers a dry, humorless sound you suppose is his attempt at a laugh.

"Did she ever, like…tell you what you were doing wrong?" you ask softly.

"Yeah…well, no, not exactly. I don't know. She'd usually just sit up and tell me she wanted to do something else, and when I asked what was up, she would just dance around the question, and we'd do something else and…I stopped trying after that. I should've asked questions."

"Well, you can ask them now. If you'd like."

Steve finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and his eyes are markedly brighter than before. "If it's not too astoundingly lame…yeah, that'd be great. What exactly hurt about it? Was I too rough?"

"Partially that, and partially how rigid your tongue was," you giggle. "It feels much better if you loosen up. Think more like licking a lollipop than Vlad the Impaler."

Steve laughs sincerely at that one, and his head tilts forward to rest on your shoulder. "Vlad the Impaler, huh? That's pretty bad."

"It is, but it's nothing you can't improve on. I'll even let you practice if you want." Steve sits straight, his once crestfallen expression replaced with wide, hopeful eyes and a hint of a genuine smile on his lips.

"Seriously?"

"Mm-hm. I'll guide you through it, like, uh...like a pussy-eating professor."

Steve snorts and kisses you briefly. His hands move to your hips in twitchy anticipation, unsure whether or not he should settle on your bare flesh or the hem of your skirt. It's almost like he suddenly doesn't know where to start. You decide for him; you lay your hands over his and guide them toward your body, bringing them up beneath your skirt and settling them on the bare skin of your hips.

"Give me a reason to tangle my fingers in that famous hair, pretty boy."

Without warning, you're pulled forward hard enough to fall unceremoniously onto your back, nearly thumping your head against the door handle. Steve almost concusses you in his excitement, but you can't bring yourself to care once you feel his breath washing over your exposed slit in warm, quick puffs. You sigh contentedly and thread your fingers through the hair at his temples.

"Loosen up, right?" he hums, and you make an affirmative noise high in your throat when you remember he can't see you nod.

"Start at the bottom," you say quickly, "and work your way up. Don't go straight for the clit, just-"

The sensation of Steve's hot, wet tongue licking a flat stripe up your cunt, slowly and carefully, makes your brain short-circuit. The instructions fizzle and die on your tongue, and you forget why you were speaking for a moment.

"Like that?"

"Huh? Yeah…yeah, like that. You don't have to just lick, either. You can like, um…suck on certain areas, like the lips and the - fucking shit -"

Steve is, apparently, a fast and very ambitious learner - before you can finish a complete sentence, he's applying your advice fucking beautifully. He licks another long, languid stripe up your pussy and sucks gently on your labia, tugging lightly with closed lips. Shifting his face upward, his nose grazes your clit, eliciting an unexpected moan. One hand flies above your head, fumbling for the handle on the car's roof for purchase, and you keep the other firmly planted in his hair.

"Still good?" His voice has an edge, much cockier now than it was just a few moments ago. He's so entertained by your reactions, and you don't know if it makes you mad, turns you on, or both. You decide that's not important because his mouth isn't on you anymore, and you can't stand for that.

"Fucking fantastic."

"Any more lessons to teach me?" he asks smugly. His hands are splayed across your inner thighs, spreading you open just slightly, and his thumbs are massaging your outer lips as he talks. His tone ignites something defiant within you. You push yourself up on your elbows and stare down at him evenly, meeting his eyes. His rediscovered confidence is undoubtedly hot, so hot you can feel your arousal starting to leak onto the upholstery beneath your ass, but it's in your nature to want to challenge him a little bit.

"Here's one," you rasp. You fist a hand into Steve's hair, gripping it tightly by the roots, and shove his face deeper into your cunt. You toss both legs over his shoulders and lock them at the ankles.

"Give that mouth something useful to do other than fuckin' talk."

You swear to everything holy, you hear Steve Harrington growl.

He dives into your pussy with renewed fervor, fingers still keeping you opened up for him, and laps at the rivulet of slick drooling out of your hole. Once the taste hits his tongue, he moans into you and pushes his face so deep you can feel the light stubble on his cheeks grazing your sensitive folds.

Your back arches, lifting you almost entirely off the seats, and you bite your lip to stifle the noises threatening to burst from your throat. It's not to spare whatever stranger may or may not be lurking in the bordering forest but because your moans sound downright embarrassing. His tongue burns a wet trail from your weeping hole to your clit, where it laps experimentally at the swollen bud.

You twist and shudder beneath him, your body operating without input from your brain, but the feeling of Steve's hands slamming your hips down into the seats snaps you back to attention. You lift your head from its position against the car door, struggling to focus your eyes. Steve has laid himself as flat as he can across what little space remains in the backseat. His arms coil tight around your thighs, which keep both legs hanging limply over his shoulders. He stares up at you through his thick lashes, eyes gleaming hungrily, while he licks and sucks your pussy like it's the last meal he'll ever eat. His ordinarily perfect hair is trashed, sticking to his damp forehead in dark clumps.

You gnaw on your bottom lip stubbornly, clinging to what little rebellion still smolders inside you. Steve laughs; the vibrations feel like heaven against you, and you fling your head back down.

It isn't until his mouth has formed a near-vacuum seal around your clit that you unabashedly squeal into the humid air, unable to contain yourself anymore, pleasure wracking your body in unrelenting waves. Steve doesn't let up, swirling his tongue while he sucks, somehow keeping you glued to the seats without much apparent effort. You knew he was strong; he was an athlete the entire time you were in high school, but you didn't imagine his slender frame belied this much strength. The ease with which he's made you almost immobile is unexpected and very, very sexy.

"S-Steve, Steve - fuck - okay, God, you're getting me close already," you wheeze, voice straining high and desperate in your throat. You don't usually get close this fast unless you're alone and rubbing out a quick orgasm before bed or out of boredom. Still, the combination of his greedy suckling and licking, the sheer amount of enthusiasm he's displaying toward pleasuring you, and the fact that this long-held fantasy is coming to life right before you are making you hurtle toward the edge.

You inhale sharply, your body tenses, you're so, so close, you're about to cum -

Steve pulls off you, his lips making a wet, obscene pop before they curl into a fiendish grin. You whine, and he chuckles at you, rubbing your thigh apologetically. "You taste so fucking good," he says breathlessly.

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper. "And…thank you?"

"I'm having too much fun and didn't want you to cum yet," he says simply. "Plus, I wanted to ask something."

"Go for it."

You can't see them, but you can feel Steve's fingers on your pussy; his thumb makes a few small, tight circles around your clit before two more digits glide down the length of your folds and stop right at the entrance of your hole. They nudge around the rim as he speaks.

"Do you like getting fingered at the same time?" he asks, hopeful. "I know I'm at least good at that."

"Yes, please, do that," you beg, hardly letting him finish the sentence. You pause as the last part of Steve's sentence registers in your lust-addled brain. I know I'm at least good at that.

The corners of your mouth tug downward into a frown. Just as Steve ducks his head down again, you cup the sides of his jaw in both hands. He looks up at you, and the way his eyes flash nervously in the darkness doesn't escape you.

"By the way," you murmur, rubbing your thumbs into the stubbly flesh of his cheeks. "You've proven to be very…very good at…yanno, all this. Not just fingering."

"Yeah?" The hope in his voice is so genuine and sweet you could cry.

"Yeah. You just needed a little guidance, that's all."

He turns his head and kisses your palm, tracing circles into the back of your hand with his own before pulling it away and lacing your fingers together. Your interlocked hands rest next to your bare hip, and he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh. "Want me to get back to the, uh…fun part?"

You giggle. "I'm having a ton of fun, personally, but if you mean the eating my pussy part…yes, please."

"Gotcha."

Steve wastes no time reclaiming your swollen clit in his mouth, but he's decidedly gentler as he trails his two middle fingers around the rim of your hole. You can't tell if he's teasing you or testing the waters as he dips the tips inside you a few times, never edging past the first knuckles before pulling them back out again.

If he keeps this up, you’re going to go batshit insane. You're milliseconds away from telling him so before he swipes his fingers through the slick puddling beneath your pussy, and plunges them inside you up to the last knuckle.

"Oh my fucking God," you moan, writhing as much as possible while trapped between Steve's body and the car. His fingers curl, brushing against a spot that makes sparks fly behind your closed eyes, and he rubs against it purposefully once your voice pitches up and your breathing quickens even more. Both hands tangle in his disheveled hair, and you're torn on whether to push him away with how overwhelming the pleasure is becoming or pull him closer so he never stops. You settle on knotting your fingers at the roots and holding on for dear life.

Steve's fingers make lewd wet sounds as they pump in and out of your hole, and his free hand rests on the soft mound of skin above your clit. He pulls back just slightly, a stringy line of saliva connecting his tongue to your body, and his index finger stretches your skin up enough that the hood of your clit shifts backward. He chuckles.

"You should see how much of a mess your pussy is," he says. His tongue darts out to lick the slick shining on his lips. "It's so cute."

"Cute?" You don't know if that would've been the word you'd have picked to describe yourself right now, nor had anyone ever done so before. Despite the flush rising high on your cheekbones, you pretend to be more offended by it than you really are.

"Adorable," Steve coos, a smug smile sprawling across his handsome face. "And the noises you're making are even cuter. Have you been saving those just for me?"

You're speechless. You can't deny it, but you sure as hell aren't going to confirm it for him, either. His head will get so big you worry it'll fill the car's cab until you're both suffocated by the sheer mass of it. You sit up as much as you can against the car door, tugging the hand still woven with yours and smiling audaciously at him. You cross pinched fingers in front of your lips in a zipping motion, twisting them at the corner and flicking your wrist over your shoulder. My lips are sealed.

Steve scoffs. "Oh? We'll see how long that lasts, pretty girl."

Steve thrusts his fingers deep inside you again, fluttering them against your g-spot, then spits on your exposed clit. He dips his head and licks up the saliva trickling down your slit in one slow, hot strip, eyes never leaving your face.

You press your lips together tight, screwing your eyes shut and exhaling hard through your nose. Your legs are trembling, you're gripping his hand so tightly you're surprised he isn't complaining of bruised bones yet, and your chest is heaving with the effort of staying silent, but you're winning.

Or, at least, you think you're winning.

That is until he stuffs his fingers so deep inside you that it causes his hand to curl upward, almost cupping your cunt in his palm and grinding the heel of his hand into your tender clit. You can't help but gasp as he outright abuses your g-spot, rubbing circles against it with such pressure that even if you wanted to make noise, you can’t - the pleasure radiating from your core has snatched your voice away. You can't even draw in a satisfying breath and only manage a few sparse, shallow gasps.

"You done acting like you're not gonna give me what I want?" Steve asks, voice dripping with sweet condescension. You sob. It takes a stammering, whimpering, tear-filled moment before you gather enough oxygen to reply.

"U-Uh-huh, I'm - shit - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Steve…."

"Atta girl." Though his fingers don't relent in the brutal pace they've set, he does bend his hand down enough so he can lap at your clit again. Tears eke out of the corners of your eyes and drip slowly into your hairline, and when you find your voice again, it bursts out of you in a broken scream.

It takes thirty seconds of consistent attention before he's got you close again, and you warn him of that fact by whining and tugging on his hair.

"You gonna cum for me?" he huffs, breath washing over your sensitive skin.

"Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck - oh fuck me, Steve -!"

"Soon, baby," he hums.

Your orgasm crashes into you full force, and your throat burns with the force of your wailing as you arch off the backseat; you guarantee you're pulling some of Steve's hair out with how tight your grip is, but he is decidedly unfazed. He milks this moment for all its worth, never stopping or slowing in his ministrations.

Tears flow down your cheeks freely, soaking into the neck of your shirt and wetting the hair you'd spent so much time on. The pleasure crescendos into something too intense to handle quickly. You choke out a few half-assed pleas, your brain melting out of your ears at this point, far beyond being capable of intelligible sentences, and Steve ignores you.

Clearly, you don't decide when Steve Harrington is done - he does.

Your orgasm seems to go on for days, months even, and just as the pain begins to nip at the edges of your earth-shattering pleasure, as you almost snap your legs shut and beg Steve to please just give you a small break, you feel it.

Your second orgasm. Building, apparently in secret, riding the tails of your first one and sneaking up on you to the point you don't notice you're going to cum until your cunt spasms around Steve's fingers again.

"C-C-Cumming, cumming again, fuck, oh God, fuck, I can't - Steve, I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Steve assures, fingers working impossibly faster. You're astonished he doesn't have the mother of all hand cramps right now. Perhaps he does, and he just doesn't care. You don't think you care, either. "You can cum for me again, Y/N. Come on. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl."

This time, you don't even have the strength to scream. You weep and sag against the car door, body tremoring and barely managing a few pathetic pleas between hiccuping breaths.

You're drenched in sweat, and you're sure your makeup is fucked because of it. That and the tears, of course. You must look utterly trashed, but when Steve finally pulls off your poor, sore pussy with a pop, he looks at you like you're the single most beautiful creature on the planet.

He goes to wipe his lips with the back of one hand, and you notice slick shimmering down his chin and even splattered onto his neck. It's only then you feel the absolute lake of cum that’s accumulated beneath your ass, and your entire body burns bright red with embarrassment. He raises himself up on his palms, his arms boxing you in tightly.

"You are so gorgeous," he says, cupping your cheek in the hand that isn't glistening with your cum. You laugh shakily and lean into his touch.

"Sorry… 'bout your seats," you offer weakly, and he shakes his head. "You can ruin my upholstery anytime."

Steve leans down, dark eyes scanning your face, and smiles. It's a sweet, lopsided expression, nowhere near the self-satisfied, almost sadistic grin from earlier. They both quicken your pulse, but this one assures you you can at least take this moment to recover from possibly the best orgasm of your life.

First and second-best orgasms. Wow.

He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He slots his leg between yours, narrowly avoiding the puddle you've made, and cradles your head as if he's the only thing keeping it from flopping sideways. Frankly, he is. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead before leaning his own against it.

"You okay?" he asks. You nod, sighing and swallowing despite your parched mouth. Your hands rest atop your chest, curled up into each other meekly as you try to regain any semblance of strength in your extremities. You bump your lips into him again briefly.

"You're a remarkably fast learner, Steve Harrington," you mumble, voice hoarse. He chuckles.

"It's easy when I have such an incredible teacher.”

It takes a few minutes to clean you - and the car - up. Steve digs around in his glove box for some old fast food napkins and gingerly sops as much of your cum out of his seats as he can while you lay on your side, curled up and heavy-lidded as the adrenaline slowly dribbles out of your system. He dabs the sweat from your brow, following the rough, cheap napkin with gentle kisses to soothe your flushed skin. Afterward, he bunches the napkins and shoves them in his passenger side door before rejoining you in the backseat.

He hoists you up onto his lap and guides your head onto his shoulder, allowing you to nuzzle your face into his neck and inhale his scent as he rubs your back.

"Any more pointers?" he asks just before you've dozed off. You smile and shake your head.

"None whatsoever. You've exceeded my greatest expectations, dear pupil." He laughs and thumps your back appreciatively. It's not until you're readjusting slightly to get more comfortable that you realize something - Steve is still hard. Achingly so, it would seem, as you can feel the rigid denim stretched over his bulge so tightly you're surprised the zipper hasn't popped clean off. Heat stirs in your belly, and you make a soft, serene noise in your throat as you grind your bare pussy into his lap.

His hips stutter upward just enough for you to bounce slightly, and you giggle into the crook of his neck. "We still haven't taken care of you yet." "We don't have to if you're too tired," he assures you, voice little more than a deep hum against the shell of your ear. "I'm happy just makin' you feel good."

You consider it. You know you'll be sore tomorrow, regardless of if you choose to have more of Steve Harrington stuffed inside you, and your clit is throbbing and achy to the touch. You could fall asleep on his chest right now; he could keep you in this beautiful, dreamlike space for the rest of time if he wanted to. But there's a part of you, a part much, much louder than the part complaining about your sore slit or exhausted body, that is dying to know what Steve's dick looks like.

You leave a trail of kisses up from the hollow of his neck to the curve of his jaw and blink at him happily. Once your faces are close enough that his eyelashes are nearly tickling your cheekbones, you snake one hand between your bodies and trail a finger over the cold metal teeth of his zipper.

"Just 'cause my cunt is sore doesn't mean I'm totally out of commission," you purr. "And since you did so well with your mouth on me… don't you think it's fair I return the favor?"

You feel, rather than hear, the low moan that rumbles through Steve’s chest at the insinuation. You hook your nail through the eye of his zipper and give an experimental tug.

"Can I suck your cock, Steve?"

His lips are on yours almost before the question rolls off your tongue. His fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you still as his tongue explores inside your mouth. Steve's natural taste mixes with the taste of your slick in an intoxicating way, but just before your head starts spinning, he breaks the kiss enough to breathe, "You're gonna have to move, baby."

Of all the lewd, downright filthy things Steve Harrington has done and said tonight, the way he slurs the word "baby" against your swollen lips is the thing that makes you blush the hottest.

He reaches behind you and opens the car door, and you both shiver slightly as the cold air rushes in from the forest and cools your sweat-soaked skin. He pats your thigh and juts his chin forward, so you awkwardly clamber out of the BMW despite your wobbling legs. You lean one hand on the car's roof while Steve scoots to sit on the edge of the backseat and swings his legs onto the ground.

He brushes past you as he emerges from the car, planting a quick kiss on the top of your head before he pops the trunk and struggles with something inside for a moment. With a victorious smile, Steve waves the same raggedy blue towel that had been wrapped around "Lucille" before assuming his spot in the backseat again. He folds it in half once and lays it out between his spread legs atop the mud and sparse grass you're standing on.

"So you don't get your legs all dirty," he explains, observing your mildly confused expression.

"My legs?"

"It'd be killer on your back, sucking my dick while you're bent at the waist, wouldn't it?" Steve laughs, undoing his belt with deft fingers while he watches the realization dawn on you. "The least I can do is make you more comfortable and keep the mud and crap off your legs, right?"

“Yeah…totally…”

Words escape you as you watch the metal of Steve's belt buckle glitter in the moonlight while he slips the leather out of the loop. His shirt is riding up just far enough onto his stomach that you can see a dark thatch of hair leading upward from the hem of his jeans, and at that moment, you are determined to follow Steve's happy trail with your tongue at some point. As he pops the button on his pants, you release your grip on the car and collapse to your knees. You grab his hands and pull them out of the way, splaying your fingers across his thighs and squeezing.

"Let me," you say, eyes darting between his mostly undone jeans and his face. He chuckles at you, and you try to commit his crooked, sweet smile and warm brown eyes to memory. He's beyond handsome, drop-dead fucking gorgeous - and he's letting you suck his cock. You take a moment to thank whatever deity or greater cosmic force that's brought you to this exact moment in your life.

"Be my guest," Steve says, leaning back on his palms and staring down the bridge of his nose at you. You lean forward, using the grip on his legs to keep balance and capture the end of his zipper between your teeth. You drag it down agonizingly slowly while keeping complete eye contact with him. You can't look away from his amazed and steadfastly aroused face. Pants fully unzipped, you think you can make out that Steve is wearing dark red boxer briefs.

Very normal, all things considered, but you know in the back of your head that this particular shade of red will always make you horny now - Pavlov's dogs had their bell, and you drool at the sight of Steve Harrington's underwear.

Steve lifts his ass off the backseat just enough for you to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. You could pull his cock out through his underwear, but no, you want to see all of him, every last inch. Fair is fair, right?

Steve is…fuck, he's big. Bigger than you ever even fantasized about.

His cock springs upright fully after you've freed it from his boxers, and with a hard swallow and a fluttery feeling in your gut, you realize it's big enough to touch his navel. It curves toward his belly, an angle so perfect it's impossible not to imagine how it'll feel inside you once you can handle it. The head is flushed a dark red and slick with precum, and you watch in reverence as a milky bead forms at the slit. It's all you can do to not surge forward immediately and lick it off. The hair covering the base of Steve's dick and balls is dark, nearly black, and unexpectedly curly compared to the other hair on his body.

You reach a tentative hand out and wrap it around his shaft. He's so thick your fingers barely touch once you've made a fist. Steve hisses at the feeling and drops his head back a little.

"You're…so fucking big," you say breathlessly. Steve laughs and cards a hand through your hair, brushing sweaty strands away from your forehead.

"You think you're gonna be able to handle it?" His voice drips with fake sympathy, so you nod your head despite being unsure. The head is so big you worry you won't be able to fit it in your mouth without your back teeth accidentally scraping it, let alone have it go down your throat. But the cocky, smug look he wears makes you want to suck his dick until he cries, just like you did.

You nudge his shirt further up his torso, noting how solid his abdominal muscles feel beneath your palm, and dip your head down to his happy trail. You lay soft kisses amongst the thick, coarse hair, and Steve subtly squirms.

"Ticklish?" you ask. He narrows his eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

You chuckle, sorely tempted.

You copy his actions from earlier and lick a long, hot stripe with your flattened tongue up the entire length of his cock, stopping only to swirl around the head and lap up his precum. The salty taste blooms across your tongue and your mouth embarrassingly floods with drool as you suck and lick more of the flavor into it. You inch carefully down his shaft, opening your jaw as wide as possible to avoid an encounter between his dick and your molars and twirl your tongue around the length in your mouth to make up for what you can't wholly swallow yet. One hand wraps around the base to make up the difference, stroking up and down slowly as you bob your head.

It's an interesting, intricate dance, trying to fit Steve Harrington's monster cock in your mouth without outright biting it. You persuade your gag reflex to let him go down your throat a bit more, your quick strokes getting slicker and slicker with the drool that pours freely down Steve's dick and wets his pubic hair. Breathing through your nose proves difficult when his massive cockhead obstructs the back of your throat entirely, but you manage well enough.

Steve is absolutely beside himself. He's moaning unabashedly, and it's like music to your ears. He's the first man you've ever been with who makes noises outside of oddly paced-out grunts or a random curse word here or there, and it's having more of an effect on you than you ever could have imagined. You press your thighs together as more slickness drips from your throbbing cunt, free to gush almost to your knees without the interference of your panties.

"Fuck, baby, fucking shit…fuck yeah, just like that… you're sucking my cock so good, you look so fucking hot right now, oh my God," Steve babbles, eyes fluttering and head lolled over to one side. He bucks his hips, probably involuntarily, and his cock bumps the back of your throat just hard enough that it makes you gag.

You cough and pull off him far enough to take a breath, your hand still firmly locked around his base and wet with spit. He laughs breathily and caresses your cheek as you pant.

“Sorry…sorry…I didn't mean to choke you. You're just… you're so good…."

"You can, uh…like, do that again if you want," you say shyly. Steve cocks an eyebrow.

"Do what?"

"That. What you just did. Again."

"You want me to gag you like that again?" It's said with genuine surprise, not judgment, and you smile sheepishly at him.

"Kinda, yeah…only if you're okay with it too, I just…I can handle it…."

He considers it, absently twirling a few strands of your hair around his fingers as he mulls your request over. Then, both hands slide to the back of your head and gather your hair into one large, tight handful that makes you sit up straighter. Cold air gusts against your freshly exposed skin, and you shiver as Steve leans forward and kisses your forehead. He uses his other hand to pull his jacket tighter around your body, tucking the collar against your throat.

"If you can handle it," he says, and with one smooth push, he's shoved you back down on his cock. The head bumps the back of your throat hard, and though your entire body jerks forward as you gag, Steve doesn't relent. He seems as determined as you were to fit the daunting length of his dick down your throat, and the fact you practically begged him to facefuck you appears to have dissolved any lingering inhibitions he may have had. He keeps one hand securely fisted in your hair, and the other moves to feel where his length is bulging through your throat. He hums lowly and strokes his fingers over your taut flesh.

"You can take more than that, can't you?"

You haven't even begun to respond before he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his way past your uvula, and you can only gag and shudder as your nose gets buried in the thick curls at the base of his cock. He guides you back by your hair only far enough that his head isn't bullying into your airway anymore, then pushes you back down - he does this over and over, hardly letting you have a moment to breathe while he chases his pleasure. You moan as you realize you've essentially become a means to an end, a method of reaching an orgasm, a warm, wet hole for Steve to fuck his cock into, and your fingers sneak down between your thighs to rub your aching clit.

Though you try to be discreet, you're soaked, and you can't do a thing to hide the obscene squelching sounds your pussy makes as you grind into your hand. Steve, with sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and drunk on lust, laughs.

"You're so fuckin' cute. You like bein' my cocksleeve that much, pretty girl?" You attempt a nod and a noise that leans toward acquiescence, and it's good enough.

Steve sets a rigorous pace, bringing you down far enough to kiss his pelvis every time, moaning a little louder when the muscles of your throat contract around his thick shaft as you gag. You are, admittedly, worried you'll puke at some point, and the thought of having arguably the best sexual experience of your life ruined by you blowing chunks all over Steve Harrington's penis does, unfortunately, cross your mind. But before you can dwell too long on it - and before the building nausea becomes too much for you to handle - Steve pulls you off his cock.

Your lips pop wetly as they leave his shaft, and you gasp shakily, the sudden influx of oxygen almost dizzying. Drool drips freely from your aching jaw and the thick strand of saliva that connects your mouth to the head of his dick glints in the moonlight overhead. Your fingers never stop working your clit, though your orgasm ebbs away after your throat ceases to be utterly abused.

"Why'd you stop?" you rasp.

"Was gonna cum too soon," he chuckles. You whine and surge forward, but you're stopped by the firm hand still ensnared in your hair. You crave the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue so intensely, and the fact he isn't letting you have it right away fills you with tantrum-level frustration.

"What, you want it?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ, please."

"Aww. You can beg much better than that." His fingers curl, tugging your hair at the root and jostling you back and forth a little.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he starts dragging you further away from his shining, dark-red cock. Drool and precum ooze from the tip and you can see it twitching every few seconds, and though your throat feels raw and sore, your jaw aches, and your legs are alight with pins and needles, you need it back in your mouth. You could kneel here all night, and you would swear you were in heaven. The brazen fire in your belly has been snuffed, replaced with the most thrilling need you've ever experienced, so you can't think of anything snarky to say in response. Instead, you do as Steve says, and you fucking beg.

"Please, please give it back, Steve."

"Give what back, baby?" he purrs.

"Your cock."

"What about my cock?"

"Please give me back your cock, Steve. Pretty please, I need it."

He clicks his tongue at you, giving your head a little shake again while your eyes are helplessly fixed on his glistening shaft. "Hmm, I still don't believe you."

A broken sob falls from your mouth before you can help it, and you paw helplessly at his thighs. "Please, please, please, fuck my face, Steve, please. I need it so badly. Please give it to me. I'll do anything, just please...."

He smiles and coos at you, bending down slightly to kiss your forehead softly. "You sound so pretty and pathetic for me, baby," he hums.

Your mouth is full again in a flash, and this time, it's evident that Steve has surpassed any pretense of being gentle with you. That clumsy, nervous boy from earlier has melted away, leaving this commanding, exceedingly bold, and surprisingly dominant man in his wake. His voice has lowered to just above a growl, rough with lust. The way he's reclining back and fucking your mouth like he's pumping into his fist, the way he teases and mocks you and eggs you on - it's fucking intoxicating. You can't get enough. You want him to go further; you want more, more, more.

"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming, fuck Y/N," Steve gasps, placing both hands on the sides of your head and driving his cock down your battered throat. The heat of your impending orgasm begins to pool between your hips, and you rub your clit furiously as you gaze up at Steve, trails of mascara-riddled tears tracked down your spit-wet cheeks.

The exact moment his cock pulses and the first hot, thick rope of cum shoots down your throat, you push yourself over the edge of your third orgasm of the night.

You moan as much as you can around his dick, body spasming uncontrollably, and the vibrations from your noises make him grip the seats beneath him so hard you think he’ll shred the upholstery. You try to swallow as best you can, and Steve does mercifully pull out just enough that the head of his cock rests against the middle of your tongue, allowing you room to breathe. His cum is salty and heady, and you're immediately addicted to it, and you hollow your cheeks to greedily suck more of it into your mouth. He looks at you with worshipful adoration, like you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your hand drops from your overstimulated clit as your orgasm abates, and you use it to hold onto Steve's thigh for balance. You distantly feel embarrassed about smearing slick on his jeans.

When Steve pulls his spent cock from your mouth and releases your bunched-up hair, you fall forward unceremoniously into his lap. You pant raggedly into the fabric clustered around his upper legs, trembling like you've been tossed in the snow. He praises you under his breath, almost like he's not entirely cognizant of what he's saying.

"You did such a good job, God, that was amazing…you did so well, baby…fuck…."

You smile dreamily, glowing under his praise. He pets your hair absentmindedly, and after a while, he gingerly guides you back so you're sitting on your haunches, the rough terrycloth of the towel digging into your knees. He looks beautiful in the bluish light of the evening, hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles, cheeks still dusted a light pink, lips swollen and red and wet with his spit. Steve cradles your face in his hands and rubs at the greyish tear tracks streaking your cheeks, almost embarrassed of their presence.

"Are you okay?"

You nod sluggishly, nuzzling your cheek into Steve's surprisingly rough palm. He smooths the frazzled hair he'd been tugging on so enthusiastically back away from your damp forehead, fluffing it apologetically once he realizes the style you'd sought to achieve is thoroughly ruined. You're sure you look destroyed, to be fair - most of your lipstick is smeared messily on the lower half of Steve's softening cock, so you imagine the rest of it is smudged down your chin and across your cheeks. When you wipe the back of your hand beneath your jaw to catch a few stray tears, your skin is stained blackish from the mascara-laden liquid. Definitely not Harrington-proof, you note amusedly.

"Lemme help you up," Steve says, scooting forward off the backseat and bending toward you. One arm snakes around your waist and tightens against the small of your back; the other hand knits itself against your right hand, and when Steve pulls you to your feet, you're pressed flush against his chest, bodies entwined like partners gliding across a dance floor. Despite everything that's happened in the last hour, you still giggle nervously at the lack of distance between your face and Steve's. He smiles sweetly, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

The hand clasped in Steve's twitches toward your lips reflexively. Your mouth still tastes like his cum, and while you certainly don't mind, you aren't sure if he will. He notices your hesitance, and after a moment, the reason seems to click for him. His smile grows imperceptibly.

Steve takes your face in both hands and kisses you deeply, licking your bottom lip before sliding his tongue against yours. Your already weakened knees wobble, threatening to let you drop like a ton of bricks right back to the rumpled towel beneath your feet. The tangy taste of your cunt still lingers on his tongue and mixes with the salty flavor coating your mouth; it's addictive, and for a moment, it tricks you into thinking you could go just one more round. The way your clit throbs painfully at the mere insinuation, however, quickly dispels that idea.

Steve presses a final, sweet kiss to the tip of your nose after he pulls away from your lips, and the way his eyes sparkle at you in the moonlight dashed across his face makes your stomach flip excitedly, a sensation you're almost embarrassed to feel. It seems too innocent, too chaste after everything you've done tonight, but your cheeks flush hotly regardless.

"You…are something else," Steve says quietly, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"You're one to talk."

You turn your head toward his palm, kissing his warm skin. The yellow-green light of his watch glows out of the corner of your eye, and when he twists his wrist a bit to the side, you catch a glimpse of the numbers.

No. No, that can't be right.

Steve makes a discordant sound as you yank his arm back toward your face, pushing his sleeve up to his elbow. You must've read the time wrong; it can't be that late.

But there it is, clear as day, in blocky electric numbers. Your curfew, which you've never broken, passed almost half an hour ago.

Your heart plummets down through your stomach, and you swear you hear it plop into the dirt at your feet.

"I'm so dead," you murmur, and Steve cocks his head quizzically.

"What?"

"I'm dead!"

You scramble toward the rearview mirror and tug it upward. You look absolutely wrecked. How will you explain why ninety percent of your makeup is gone? Why your hair looks like you've just gone through a tornado? Steve huffs out a confused laugh.

"Am I…missing something?" he asks, leaning casually against the side of the car. You tug the collar of your shirt up and scrub at your mouth - it makes your lipstick look worse and stains the inside of one of your favorite tops. Shit. You frenziedly try to work the buttons on Steve’s jacket closed, desperately tugging the collar up in an attempt to conceal the rapidly deepening red blotches he’s sucked into your skin. They’ll bruise by tomorrow, and if you weren’t in a blind panic, the thought would turn you on. Admittedly, it still does.

"I'm so, so late. My mom is gonna kill me," you say frantically. Maybe it'll be dark enough that no one will notice your lipstick…but they'll definitely see the black trenches carved into your cheeks. Shit.

You turn to the side, trying to tame your hair into a halfway decent shape. It doesn’t work, and you exhale roughly through your nose; the scrunchie you always wear around your wrist is snatched off, and you twist your hair into possibly the sloppiest, worst bun you’ve ever created, but it’ll have to do. Every single aspect of your appearance is like a bright red, flaring neon sign blinking above your head, ready to announce I HAD HOT SEX, AND THAT’S WHY I’M SO INCREDIBLY LATE.

You know it shouldn't matter; she doesn’t have much recourse since you're an adult, but fear still pangs in your gut so hard it makes you nauseous. You can picture it now, tiptoeing into the living room just to have the lamp in the living room flicker to life, your enraged and concerned mother silhouetted in the dim yellow light. You're sure you'll be able to see the steam rolling off her body in waves from where you'll be standing at the landing of the stairs. You'll be lucky if she lets you leave for the supermarket after this, let alone on another date.

"Shit, is it really that late?" Steve asks, and how his voice pitches up in genuine confusion only aids your panic. He bounds to the driver's side of the car, almost tripping over his feet as he fumbles the keys from his pocket and slams them into the ignition. Your butt barely touches the passenger side seat before the engine roars to life, and Steve slams on the gas.

Apologies tumble freely from his mouth as you clumsily clip your seatbelt into place, and you assure him it's alright as best you can while licking your fingers and scouring the mascara stripes off your cheeks. It doesn't work and tastes weird, but it's all you've got.

~~~

When Steve screeches up your driveway, you are an hour past curfew, and that’s only by the grace of God and Steve’s disregard for speed limits.

You sling your purse strap over one shoulder and almost kick the passenger side door off its hinges as you get out of the car, but just before you're about to bolt up your driveway, you pause.

It wouldn't kill you to be just a little later, right?

You whip back around, and Steve stares up at you, a little breathless, flushed, and still so beautiful. You grip the edge of the window and bend down, poking your head inside the car.

"I had an amazing time," you say, and you wish Steve wouldn't smile at you the way he does because it makes you want to say, "Fuck it," and hop back in the car. But he does, and you don't, and he nods.

"You wanna do it again sometime? I mean, not, not it, like a date - well, we can do it again if you want to. I'm just saying we don't have to…."

He sighs, and you pretend not to notice the flexing and unflexing of his hands on the steering wheel. It's endlessly endearing how nervous he is when he isn't jamming his cock down your throat or eating you out like a starving man. Something in your mind wants to see how flustered you can make him, but you silence it.

"Such a way with words," you tease, and you cup his cheek in your hand. You kiss him tenderly, hoping it encapsulates everything you want to say but don't have time for right now. Fingers slide up the nape of your neck and ensnare themselves in your hair, keeping your lips locked for a few moments longer. Your mouth is swollen and chapped, but you'd kiss him all night if he'd let you. Maybe one day he will.

"I'd love to do this again, by the way," you hum against the corner of his mouth. "Assuming I live past tonight, that is."

"Looking forward to it, Y/N. Oh, and, by the way…."

He grips your hair, not too hard, but just enough to where you stiffen and let out a soft moan. He peppers kisses along your cheek, to your temple, to the shell of your ear.

"I'm keeping your panties. Maybe next time I'll shove 'em in your mouth if you try to play the quiet game again with me."

He releases his grip on your hair, and his hand purposefully slides along the curve of your jaw until it reaches your chin. He pinches it between thumb and forefinger and kisses the bewildered, now painfully aroused look off your face before leaning back, giving you a wink, and revving the car's engine.

"See you soon, baby," he calls. His car crunches back down your driveway, and you're left standing there, brain short-circuiting and threatening to melt out of your ears, hyperaware of the cold night air nudging against your bare pussy under your skirt. You press your thighs together and jam fabric between them self-consciously, hoping against hope that you won't flash your poor, unsuspecting mother, who is undoubtedly waiting for you to chew you out.

You turn unsteadily, gazing up at your house. The living room light is already on, and you can see a lithe shadow flitting anxiously from within the windows. You're going to get an earful.

It was so. Fucking. Worth it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #steve harrington / reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #fem!reader #f!reader #smut #my writing #somebody to love series

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 6

You start to break down, finally accepting Konig's soft advances.

WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing

Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3

This basement is filled with dead people. Or, so you thought at first glance.

At the second glance, you notice a broken bicycle, a bunch of furniture pieces, and something that you could only describe as a particularly horrible-looking attempt at wood carving. Or, maybe, a hanging post. You were in the killer’s layer, after all.

You were there for 10, maybe 15 minutes, and you already know that you are not making it out sane. Your whole body is trembling, your head is throbbing, you are dizzy after an orgasm, and Max is still lying here, his body is warm and soft. Blood stopped dripping from his stomach, but it didn’t make him any less dead. Coughing and almost throwing up from disgust, you spit out every last bit of cum that you managed to get out of your sore throat. You needed something – water, normal food, a good few hours of sleep because you’ve been running on sheer adrenaline for the past 12 hours and it started to take a toll on your…everything.

Just a few hours ago, you were a bored college girl on her forest trip with a bunch of weirdo friends. Your biggest problem was the utter boredom of this fucking woods, not the murderous maniacs on your tail. Now…

— Open wide, Maus. Let me feed you, ja?

Now you were spoonfed reheated chicken soup by König. Colonel in the PMC. The guy who dropped his mask to make you even more scared because you see all the burn marks and scars on his face, and just know that you won’t ever be able to resist someone as strong as him.

Guy who calls you “good girl” and pets your head and tries to engage you in this weird as fuck power dynamic that makes your cheeks warm and your mouth open, even though the saltiness of the soup makes you remember his cum and…fuck. Oh, god fucking damnit.

He is smiling like a maniac, making sure that with each spoon of your soup, you also eat something…you don’t even want to acknowledge it, your stomach is too empty, and your mouth was already tarnished by him, so what’s the problem with a few more drops of his semen, carefully added to the mixture so you won’t be able to miss it? You cringe in disgust as he smiles and pushes even more in your throat, almost making you gag from the spoon deep past your teeth. At least you know that the chicken bits here are actual chicken.

— Let…let me go. Please.

You finish the bowl of soup after a few torturous minutes. The salty taste in your mouth leaves you cringing, and König smiles, wiping your face with a napkin. You feel helpless – with your arms newly bound, there is nothing much you can do when he presses a bottle of coke to your mouth, making you wash away the incredible saltiness with even more incredible sweetness. You want to gag, but he closes your mouth swiftly after.

He smiles.

— We’ll walk you later. Now is not the time for girls to be out.

— I’m not a…

He scoops you in his hands, your body swinging in the air like a doll. It’s horrible, just how strong he is – makes you tremble in his hold, like a useless little victim you are. God, this even sounds embarrassing – yet you can hear the smile in his voice as he drags you along with him. Forcing you to look at Max’s dead body, the smell isn’t filling the room just yet. You try your best to consider yourself lucky.

— You’re cranky, Maus. Need to get you out of here before he starts to smell, right? Brainy ones usually rot extremely fast.

He laughs at his own joke as he pushes you in his arms further. Your head pounds with every one of his rough, deep phrases, his hands are going to roughly manhandle you in place. You whine, too weak to resist but not too weak to stop crying. God, this is pathetic. And scary, And not like those movies about hot killers and half-naked girls.

You’re not a final girl material because instead of fighting him and slamming your knee in his dick again, you get even further on his hands, hoping he would be able to hold you in place like you wanted it.

— Not sure if I should call you a Kitten or a good girl. What do you prefer?

He pushes his large, calloused hand to your face, smearing blood all over your cheeks once again. You cringe, your nose gets the fragrance of blood and decay from his skin – the weirdest fucking perfume that you hope to never smell again. Sobbing softly, you allow him to press his hands on your body, to roam around freely, like you were his fucking treat and not a real person with wants and desires.

— Fuck you.

— It’s Horangi’s job, girl. Not yours, ja?

He laughs plentifully, getting you in his hands. You shiver under his touch, not wanting his fingers anywhere near your abused body – they got you off one time exactly, and you wish never to come from your captor’s toucher. You don’t even want to look at Max, too scared to ever see his lifeless, cold face – terrified of the deep path you feel towards him. Like nothing has happened, like he wasn’t one of your friends. You don’t feel anything besides being tired, and you can’t begin to unwrap all the complex feelings behind your assholish friend group deaths.

Jenny and Chad are still out here, still could get help – but they were ignoring every one of your pleads, not wanting to ruin their nice vacation with your dumb panic. Deep down, you almost feel like screwing these fucking assholes and hoping that they would get impaled by a large freaking stick, preferably in the middle of very lame and satisfying sex. Preferably…

— König, I thought we agreed of not letting her out.

— You’re going hunting, and I need company.

— She could run, you know. You’re too soft on her.

— I can break her ankle! She won’t run then.

König’s voice is so cheerful you actually feel nauseous. He is smiling and laughing, and they both hug before the shorter guy gets out – you can’t even begin to remember the outline of their house because, honestly, serial killers shouldn’t have houses this nice. Ruch wood, probably painted with blood, some hunting trophies, probably incrusted with human bones and remains of their victims, a lot of silly little knickknacks that are probably trophies from the previous groups of dumb college kids…

Shit, no matter how much you wanted to say that this place looks horrible and straight out of a horror movie, it still looks nice. You wonder if it could be scored for a low price, with all the disappearing in the woods around it. You wonder if they started to kill people to make the house cheaper and buy it for half a Euro and a firm handshake.

König grabs you like a plush toy, squeezing you in his magnificent, strong chest, almost making you choke on his boobs as you just desperately try to breathe. He smells like masculinity, too much male perfume and blood – you tuck your face closer to his neck, trying to see if you could, perhaps, bite through his blood stream and vampire your way out of this place, but he only laughs, feeling your teeth on his skin as a form of foreplay. You didn’t want foreplay, you wanted to fucking kill him, maul him to death, do everything in your power to drop him on his back and perform acts that would be not only concerning to feminism but humanity as a whole.

He drops you on the couch before you can sink your teeth into his shoulder, leaving perfect teeth marks on the pale skin of his body. You heard somewhere that human bites are actually incredibly dangerous and call make you ill – you also hoped that you could somehow get rabies from that one poor rodent lying dead on the ground, and so you would be able to transfer the disease to these two fuckers.

You hoped that Karen would give them all the STDs that are possibly could be transmitted.

You hoped that Max would annoy the shit out of them before he died.

You hoped…but it’s useless now, isn’t it? You are sitting on the couch, your captor keeping a firm hand on your thigh, his erection still hard in his pants – you refuse to look at it, you’re better than this, but, oh god, you had no idea a dick could be this dick and don’t prod through pants. You feel like a house dog that was allowed to sit on the soft furniture for the first time in her life, and you hate it. With a groan and, perhaps, a bit of an angry yelp, you fall to the ground.

König smiles immediately – and pushes your face between his legs, perhaps thinking that you just died to suck him off. You wince, both from disgust and fear. Your jaw is still sore, and you aren’t sure how you can still close it.

— Such an eager girl, ja? I will give you what you want then.

Come to think of it, while he is relaxed and his partner is out of the house, you could try to bite his dick off. It should give you a headstart to run and find a weapon to eliminate one of the problems. Then, again, it would require you to put his dick in your mouth again.

Your jaw pleaded to just allow him to fuck your pussy instead.

Your pussy pleaded to just give him your ass, to not risk being pregnant.

Your ass…yeah, you’re not trying anal for the first time with a guy who can swing his dick like a baseball bat and kill some unhappy campers with it.

With the swiftness of the wind, you get up, sitting on the couch in the most modest pose you can imagine. You threw away a couple of pillows in the process – nice pillows, soft pillows, pillows you couldn’t imagine in the house of not just two killers but two military dudes who don’t seem like the type to like everything soft and cute. Besides you, you guess – or they always get one of their victims as leverage or a fucked up pet until they are fully committed to just killing you and eating what is left of your remains.

König only laughs, getting a hand over your shoulders and pressing you closer to him. You don’t want to, but you’re basically naked, save for your underwear and torn jeans, and he is warm. You don’t need a blanket when you have his hot flesh next to your skin – you suppress a smile, trying your best not to fall into their clutches. You’re tired, yes, but it’s not an excuse to be a whore! There are many more convenient moments to be a slut and this one is not it. They killed your friends!

Your asshole friends.

— You have any movie preferences?

He has to repeat his question a few times, you’re too lost in thought to actually listen. Only when he pinched your thigh, no doubt leaving a bruise, you kinda jumped in place, only barely containing a pathetic whimper. His fingers just started to gently squeeze and play with soft flesh, only making everything more warm and twisted and painful.

— No slashers.

He chuckles, pressing his hand deeper into your inner thigh. You try to close your legs, not wanting to invite his fingers in, but he just rests his fingertips on the border of torn jeans, gently brushing it over the sensitiveness of your skin. You gulp, suppressing any reaction.

— No slashers. Gut. I, too, prefer the real thing.

Shiver rund down your spine. God, you need to get out of here, not play house with a murderer! A handsome murderer who killed your asshole friends and who was also kinda nice(not killing you, that is) and even saved you from being too hurt and even allowed you on the couch and even…god, you’re a miserable shell of a woman and the greatest speedrunner of the Stockholm syndrome in the world.

Your body sinks into the couch that smells like a mix between a frat house and a meat fridge.

He turns on the TV, placing something dumb and loud. You don’t even want to look, but you’re bored, and you don’t want him to think you are letting him off the hook with your observant nature – you look at him, quietly as he intensely watches a…

A familiar melody fills the room. You actually need to wait a few seconds, blink, and then look at the screen again. God, is he fucking serious right n-

You are sitting in the house in the middle of a murder forest, with the dead body of your friend rotting in the basement of said house, you were forced to have sex with the killers of the said friends, and now you’re kidnapped in the said house…and the killer just turned on fucking Encanto for you.

— It’s popular among girls your age, right?

You want to say that, among normal college female population, porn would be far more suitable to watch. The guy looks older than you, for sure, mature, with a rugged face and scars and that perfect stubble and touches of silver in his ginger hair, and…shit, you’re dreaming of his rough handsomeness again. Quick, think about your dead friend.

— I’m not 5.

— You act like you’re 5.

— Wh…what do you mean?

— You left your friends to die, you don’t care that we can hurt you…

— I care that you can hurt me!

— You’re silly, Liebling. A normal person would try to run away three times already.

— You said you’d break my ankles.

— I will. Still, you look like you prefer this place more, ja? You can watch dumb shows and eat whatever you want and never worry about…whatever you were doing before.

— I don’t! I…this is stupid.

— You’re a bit dumb, Schatzen. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you.

He smiles as he ruffles your hair again, his hand goes to gently cup your face and cover it with hungry, sloppy kisses. You can’t even focus on the cartoon on the screen because he is basically devouring your lips right now, forcing you to open your mouth and invite him in – you don’t want him to bite you, you are hurt enough without that kind of contribution. You feel dizzy, dehydrated, you are still exhausted, and you’d want nothing more but to close your eyes and allow him to do whatever he wants with your lifeless body.

You want to roll to the side, hug the pillow, and watch Encanto on pair with some trash TV about housewives killing each other over a garden salad. You don’t want to think about your dead friends because they are dead, you are alive, and your lips are getting crushed as he forces the kiss to be more deep, as he brings his hand to gently squeeze your waist and brush over your back.

You are flushed by the end of the kiss, König grins sluggishly as you are panting, shocked, excited and a bit overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even think about biting his tongue off – which sounded a bit stupid right now, yes, he would probably just kill you for trying, but you could at least…you could at least close your lips and don’t allow him to kiss you like an excited puppy who just loves loves loves covering your face with his saliva.

Like a dig with a boner, König presses wet lips all over your face and head – in your hair, on your temple, gently brushing over your forehead and cheeks, making sure that he traces his lips over every last bit of blood that he left on your skin. He grunts in the kiss, something more like a guttural moan, and you never knew that just the motion of simple, sloppy kisses can make a man so excited – you are scared and just a little bit curious. Just how much he wants to touch his victim.

König gently places you down on the couch, forcing you to sit straight. He picks up one of the fallen decor pillows and throws it into your hands, allowing you to have something to fidget with. He almost looks guilty, anxious, that barbaric, rugged face is red with embarrassment and sadness as he can’t really do anything nice with you right now, can’t play with you like he wants to. God, König would give up a lot to just fuck you raw on this couch, to forget about your stupid friends and make you their nice little couple addition – but he promised, he knows he is, and you’re too sensitive and overwhelmed to take him like this now.

König can bet that you’d be so tight he wouldn’t even get a finger in. Breaking you in should feel fucking amazing.

— Can’t fuck you right now, Schatzi. Promised my tiger we would share you.

He smiles guilty, boyish, that dumb smile brings heat to your cheeks again. You turn away from him, feeling his hands keeping you in place firmly – but otherwise, he allows you to just watch the movie, getting lost in the plot you saw a couple dozen times.

You are watching the movie, and König is watching you.

— You aren’t sad?

— About what? You can sense a certain level of nervousness in his tone. You lick your lips, hugging the pillow closer to your face so he won’t be able to read your expressions.

— That we can’t fuck right now.

— I don’t want to have sex at all.

— You came stronger than I did.

— It’s a…ph…physical reaction. I didn’t want it.

— You don’t sound convinced.

He is drilling the dangerous thoughts in your head. The desire to just empty your brain and allow them to take the lead, the desire of your mind to simply shut down from all of the horrors you already saw. This is an apathetic stance – you don’t see a point in fighting after you see what they are capable of, and you certainly don’t see the point in ever trying again. Still, you somehow want them to stop, just so you can stop worrying about falling for their trap and stop being a good person who cares for her friends.

You feel like almost falling asleep, dozing off on the couch – not because you feel safe or warm, but because your body is simply refusing to reach anymore, too exhausted to produce even the most basic self-reservation instincts. König forces your head on his lap, gently stroking your tear-stained face.

When Horangi returns home with a bloody axe and Jenny, kicking and screaming in his hold, you are fully asleep on König’s lap.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #yandere cod #slashers #slasher #horangi x reader #horangi #yandere horangi #yandere x reader #male yandere

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 6 months

Text

I'm almost done with part 3 of Blacksmith's Daughter.

But I have once more found myself weak against the headcanons and giggling uncontrollably at my own train of thought.

So this time

What would happen if you found yourself with a bag o' weed?

Whatever here we feckinGOOO

Because I Got High

OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X Reader

Headcanons

NSFW because context and stuff

♫♬Creepin Up The Backstairs - The Fratellis♬♫

Don't just say yes to tease me, do your utmost to please me

I don't mean to be sleazy, being you can't be easy

Zoro

"I mean, I've never tried it, but...."

Never done this before, usually have to have friends to introduce you to this sort of thing, and he was fairly lacking in the friend department until recently.

But basically, the hell with it, why not?

Just watching you roll it up in curiosity and borderline nervousness—

No, he's not nervous, shut up.

First hit and he's trying not to cough up a lung, shoving at you while you giggle about it.

Once it hits, he's in absolute awe of...well, basically everything.

Has never been so relaxed in his entire life what is this sorcery?

Falling back into his favorite hammock and pulling you down with him, just staring up at the ceiling in wonder.

Mentions after several minutes of silence that he can't feel his teeth and then just dissolves into hysterical laughter.

Cannot stop grinning, so comfortable and at ease with everything, kissing at your temple and your neck and pulling you closer against him.

Literally just wants to cuddle at this point, not anything more than that. Just lay there and hold you close, relax, breathe you in and enjoy the warmth and comfort of your body against his.

"....Fuck."

Sanji

"Excuse me, you have what? Oh, this is going to be fun."

He's worked in a professional kitchen. This is not his first rodeo.

Also, hand over the ganja. You're not smoking it, you're cooking with it. Or in actuality, infusing it into butter and cooking with that, to ensure even distribution.

Again. Not his first rodeo. Whatever he does come up with, be it brownies or cookies or are those churros???, you know he knows what he's doing.

Just leaves plates of edibles laid out across the kitchen of the Merry, and no one knows but the two of you.

Luffy eats an entire plate of brownies and is practically in a coma fifteen minutes later, laying sprawled out on the deck and pointing at a cloud every so often to comment on what it looks like.

Nami and Usopp sitting in the corner, alternating between giggling and dying in laughter at the pitiful state of their captain.

Zoro decided he was going to wash dishes for some reason, but you're pretty sure he's been scrubbing the same plate for five minutes.

You and Sanji standing off in another corner, leaning over each other and cracking up at the chaos you have managed to wreak among the crew.

And it gives the two of you the perfect opportunity to slip off to bed, which you definitely don't waste.

As flirty and playful as he is on a normal basis is doubled right now, and whether you're giggling or moaning beneath him, he's absolutely thrilled with the outcome of this endeavor.

"Oh, so much fun...."

Shanks

"Oh, sweetheart, we are going to the moon."

Do you even have to ask?

The second you tell him you found a bag of the green in the contraband hold in the Marine ship you just sunk, he's grinning like an idiot.

Grabbing you, an officer or two, leaving someone else in charge for a while, and you're all smoking out the captain's cabin.

Thirty minutes later, amid the haze of smoke, Benn's sitting in the corner just staring at his hands in borderline terror. No thoughts, just oh dear gods hands.

Yasopp's doubled over the map table, laughing hysterically at something Shanks said five minutes ago.

Shanks has pulled you on top of him on his bed, arm curled around you, kissing you slowly, no worry at all of any other parties present.

But every so often, his head drops down to his pillows, and he spouts off some high-wisdom one-liner, and just stares off into space for a moment in wonder.

"If...if you drop a bar of soap on the floor...is the soap dirty, or is the floor clean?"

Mihawk

"You have what? Why?"

Disapproving stare.

Well, he might have dabbled in his younger years (no it had nothing to do with Shanks quit asking), but not for quite some time.

It dampens his senses, it's not worth the trouble.

But...maybe it wouldn't hurt, just this once.

Ten minutes later, he's laid back across his bed, arm curled around you, completely at one with everything.

Just staring up at the ceiling, thinking.

Everything makes perfect sense, everything is one, and it's just delightful.

If you need advice about anything, now is the time to ask, because all the secrets of the universe are now his.

He has no idea how far gone he actually is and honestly it's pretty hilarious.

Glares at you when you point it out—before giving a snort-laugh and agreeing with you.

It's a rarity that you get to see him this relaxed and unbothered, so enjoy it while it lasts.

Definitely initiate a make-out session; he's going to take it very slow, and very thorough, savoring you even more than he usually would.

"Mmm, you taste divine, little one...."

Buggy

"Are you serious? Oh, hell yes—"

Eyes light up like a kid at Christmas, you have what?!?!

Oh, he's down as a clown.

He literally said that line, and then grinned so hard that you almost don't want to shove him overboard for it.

He's more than prepared to make sure there are munchies available—mainly chocolate, since he has a serious sweet tooth.

Taking a toke and then kissing along your neck, making you giggle.

Unlike drinking, this is a private affair, just you and him. You're the only one who gets to see this side of him.

Making you giggle gives him life, so he's going to be murmuring stupid jokes in your ear in between trying to make you moan, and he'll settle for either.

"Ooh, yeah, that's it, baby—just give me what's mine."

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notjustjavierpena · 8 months

Text

Eat

A/N: Pussy? Eaten. Stomach? Butterflies. Hotel? Trivago. Think this takes place short after Gush.

Summary: You tell Joel that you cannot come from getting eaten out, but he isn’t convinced.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut (mdni), dad’s best friend joel miller, daddy kink, soft soft soft and patient joel, nipple play, pussy eating, dirty talk, intense orgasm, pet names , bit of praise kink and body worship

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49669783

Eat

Joel has you completely naked and pinned to his bed. It’s a Saturday afternoon, sun is pining in through the curtains and heating up the room that’s already warm from your bodies being entwined. You have yet to get out of bed despite needing a shower, perhaps some food for your growling stomach, and maybe a glass of ice water from how sweaty your body is when you are in the older man’s proximity. He makes your heart pound.

He hovers over you whilst on his knees between your legs, hands on your wrists and gaze hungry as he contemplates what he wants to do with you. Your stomach drops as he asks, “Will you lemme have it? Lemme eat your pussy, princess?”

It’s not that you don’t think this is sexy. It is just that. Though, despite how many times Joel has made you come during the summer, he actually hasn’t gone down on you yet.

He has tried a million times though, but you have always playfully pushed his head away every time he has tried to descend on your body, distracted him with a blowjob, or made him finger your cunt instead. At this point, you still haven’t told him that the reason is that you simply don’t like it.

“Joel,” you avoid his gaze, turn your head away, “I—“

Joel hasn’t heard hesitation from you before, only the jokes that he hasn’t taken to heart. He lets go of one of your wrists, takes hold of your chin, and guides your head back so you face him again. He furrows his brow at the uncertainty in your eyes that meet his, “What’s a’ matter?”

“Nothing,” you play dumb, avoiding his curious look once more but he snaps his fingers in front of you to regain your attention. You groan at how well it works, “Why would anything be wrong? It’s just… I don’t really like it. I can’t come from it.”

Joel narrows his eyes slightly, not convinced, “Why’d you think you can’t come from it?”

“This guy I was with,” you begin and it’s Joel’s turn to look uncertain. You want to roll your eyes; doesn’t he know that he has ruined everyone else for you by now?

“Years ago,” you add, “He told me I took too long, so maybe I just, you know, couldn’t. I didn’t want to try again.”

Joel doesn’t get pissed at the guy or start a rant like you expect him to do (something about that boy taking this sort of experience from you and turning it into something negative). Instead, he starts laughing to the point where he needs to rest his forehead against your shoulder to calm himself because the pout you give him just makes him laugh harder.

“What?” You push at his head in annoyance. He cannot even hold onto your other wrist anymore.

“Took too long. Jesus,” his laughter is interrupted by a cough. You can feel his chest vibrating against your own, “He was bullshittin’ you, baby girl. What a lazy piece of shit, and what range of stupid lil’ fuckers you’ve allowed to have what’s mine.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I hate it,” you squirm underneath him at his choice of words, reaching for his hair with your hands to pull at it gently, “Stop laughing. It’s not funny.”

“It is kinda funny,” he looks up at you through his lashes. There’s something sweet to his voice whilst his eyes darken, “Hey now. It’s just… ya said ya didn’t squirt either, and then fuckin’ wet the bed.”

You go beet red, “Joel. God.”

“I’m merely a man just tryna prove a point,” he jokes, earning a glare. Something shifts a little in the air and then he isn’t playing anymore, “Will ya lemme try? Just f’me? We can stop anytime you want.”

“I don’t know,” you sound unsure.

“We’ll go reeeal slow,” he pushes.

“O-okay,” you say. What’s the harm in letting him try? It’s not like it is uncomfortable for you, but rather just slightly boring and awkward.

“Okay’s not a yes, princess,” Joel crawls up to try to kiss your uncertainty away. He pecks your lips over and over again, switching not long after to pepper your face with more gentle kisses instead. They’re scattered across your cheeks, lips, nose, above your eyebrows, soft eyelids, and chin. He doesn’t let up until you giggle sweetly.

“Yes!” You squeak and mess up his hair, “Eat some damn pussy, if it means that much to you.”

“Try to relax for me,” he instructs and pushes himself to sit up again. His eyes have darkened further, “How do you want ya legs?”

You bend your legs, planting your feet firmly on the bed and spreading yourself open enough for Joel’s broad shoulders to fit between your thighs. He doesn’t go down yet though, keeping his promise of taking things slow in case you want to stop before it gets too intense.

His lips connect to where your neck meets your shoulder, pressing his nose firmly into you to inhale your scent. It must be nothing but sleep and sweat by now. He opens his mouth against your skin, sucks across your collarbone until he reaches your jugular notch. He dips his tongue into the dent, and licks off the sweat before murmuring, “I can feel you not relaxin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you say with a pounding heart and you mean it, curl your toes, but he shushes you immediately.

“No, no. This ain’t on you, baby. Tell me what I can do to make ya relax,” he pulls back to look at your face. He looks so gorgeous with the sun hitting his body like this.

“Talk to me,” you whisper without knowing why.

“My baby wants to hear how gorgeous she is?” He asks as he goes back to putting his mouth on your throat. You tip your head back, and he hums against you, “How perfect ‘n beautiful ‘n sexy? Perhaps a little spoiled too?”

“Mhm, yes,” you rest your hand on the back of his neck when he starts to descend. His lips trail down between your breasts, and his huge palm covers one of them whilst he sucks on the other. He is eager, cheeky enough to tug your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You moan softly.

“Fuckin’ love your tits, Jesus, look at you,” he mumbles absentmindedly to himself before going back in. He dares to suck a light purple mark onto your skin just close enough to your nipple so that you can cover it up and keep it a secret between the two of you even if going to the lake with friends and wearing your skimpy bikini.

You groan and arch your back when he switches to the other one of your tits, cupping it still whilst lapping at your nipple. He flicks his tongue across it just when you think he might pull away, causing you to let out a long drawn-out whine.

“You fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?” He kisses the swell of your breast, tugs a little with his hand. You close your eyes, bolts of arousal shooting up your spine again when he suckles once more.

Slowly, you find that much of the nervousness is seeping out of your body with every kiss, lick and suck of your salty skin. It may be the time to admit that Joel knows just which buttons to push to turn you into putty. It may also be the time to admit that you are starting to get excited about what is going to happen. Nervous but excited.

“You’re so soft… like damn silk,” he admires whilst he goes lower. His nose brushes along the length of your stomach, tickling a little to the point where you shiver and let out a soft sigh. He relishes in it, “Damn, baby. Listen to that sound.”

You rake your nails across his scalp when he nips at your skin. Heat is pooling in your belly and you can feel slick drip onto the sheets, running down the cleft of your ass, “Touch my pussy, Daddy.”

Joel tenses visibly at the nickname. He grips your hip, and somehow becomes a little rougher in everything he does, “Gotta wait. Maybe your disaster college boyfriend didn’t get ya worked up enough. I definitely ain’t gonna make that mistake.”

He crawls further down, kisses open-mouthed and hot right below your belly button several times. Even places the flat of his tongue against the skin there to lick long languid stripes, “Won’t start until you beg me to kiss your little twitchin’ clit.”

“But I’m so wet,” you pout, flexing the muscles in your stomach. When you try lifting your hips to find some kind of friction, he pushes you right back down into the mattress.

“Stop,” he warns sternly. The hand on your hip runs across your belly, teases over your mound and ghosts over your clit until you cry feebly for him, “Do you want me to just touch ya between your pretty legs?”

“I told you I don’t like the other thing,” you reply to spite him and egg him on. He smacks one of your thighs, wiggling the flesh after.

“Liar,” he breaks eye contact to look right down at your cunt. You are sure that he can see how you clench around nothing, clit so hard that it is exposed from underneath the hood. You are so ready for him to follow through, no matter the nervousness in your body, “The anticipation wouldn’t have you this excited if yadidn’t care. You’ll fuckin’ let Daddy live between your thighs after he’s done eating.”

“Fine,” you huff, spreading your legs further to punctuate your sentence, “Put your mouth on my pussy. Prove it.”

Joel groans at the sight of you giving in to him. He gets comfortable on the bed, legs hanging out over the edge. One arm scoops underneath you to curl around your right thigh and the other rests on top of your left. He splays his hand across your sternum, and almost automatically, you reach for it and tug at two of his fingers as if needing something to hold onto for dear life.

“Now we talkin’,” he smirks.

“Hold on,” you interrupt, heart almost beating out of your chest with how horny you feel. That, and the fact that what Joel is about to do to you seems to be the most intimate thing you can think of. It feels dangerous, exciting, and scary.

You put another pillow behind your back and head, so you can watch him over the top of your tits and his hand. He grumbles but waits.

“Go,” you say with an apologetic smile, “Just wanted to see you.”

“Ain’t you adorable?” Joel gazes up at you to follow through on your wish, “Ready?”

“Just wanna come now,” you promise, “‘m just nervous. Makes me fidget.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, breath ghosting over your pussy as he lowers himself down slowly, “Makes ya toes curl too.”

You cannot quite believe that you have Joel Miller’s face between your legs right now, and even less so believe the hungriest smile in history that he is sporting. It is enough to make you blush, letting go of Joel’s hand and reaching up to cup your face when the anticipation becomes overwhelming. You rest your pinkies in front of your mouth, palms burning from being clasped around your cheeks but it feels like you might lose it if you let go.

The simple brush of his tongue that he chooses as a starting point has you squirming on the bed. His tongue is warm and flat against you, licking how he had done it against the sensitive skin of your stomach.

Your stomach muscles twitch. It feels… good. Better than the first time you did it.

“Okay?” He asks in a hum, looking up at you through his lashes with genuine eyes. You nod slowly, and he lowers again to press a soft kiss to your sensitive clit.

And then another.

And another.

You make a noise best described as a soft sigh.

Then he goes lower, the kisses becoming more sloppy and wet. He stops when he reaches your quivering cunt, lets out his tongue to scoop up some of the slick that has gathered and is spilling down between your cheeks. He then licks a long stripe all the way up to your clit, and laps at it like he is eating a damn ice cream cone.

“Mhmm, tastes so fuckin’ good, baby, like heaven,” he continues with his small licks, the hand on your chest finding your left nipple. Tugs like he knows you like.

You moan for the first time, not sure if you have repressed the urge to do so. He takes it as a sign to keep going, stiffening his tongue to run it between your folds repeatedly and eventually settling on your clit again. He flicks the tensed-up muscle against the nub, setting up a pace that suddenly causes you to whine.

“Ohh,” you swallow thickly, part your lips and breathe heavily. A muscle in the thigh that Joel is holding flexes involuntarily, and you can feel him smirk against you when he moves back to open-mouthed kisses.

“No, go back,” you demand, “Please.”

“Yeah?” Joel pulls back instead to tease you. He removes his hand from your thigh to suck his thumb into his mouth. He makes you tremble at the sight, but even more when he circles your clit with the pad of the finger after, “You like Daddy’s tongue on your pussy, baby?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Say it,” he still draws lazy circles.

“Feels so good,” you admit finally with a groan, “You’re always right.”

“Know I am,” he kisses your inner thigh. The hand on your breast moves to rub soothingly up and down your belly, “‘bout time you realized.”

“I want you to keep going,” you say with a shy smile, blinking down at him, “Please, Daddy?”

His hands still on you, but then he reaches to place both hands on your inner thighs to spread you out a little further. You fall back into the pillow, and he sinks into you again, “Whatever baby wants, baby gets.”

You have never actually thought about how big his mouth is before. In fact, it is huge in comparison to everything about you. He is able to stretch his lips over every inch of your cunt, and he gladly does.

Your breath hitches before you let out a drawn-out moan. Joel eats you out enthusiastically; he licks, sucks, and even dips his tongue inside of you for a moment too. You can feel the world closing in on you, shrinking to nothing but the pressure that builds.

“It’s—“ you want to say something that makes sense, because whatever you had done in the dim light of your college dormitory a few years prior was definitely not this, but there are no words that describe how overwhelming his slick tongue is, “It’s— oh God.”

You squeal pathetically as your cunt teeters on the edge of an orgasm. You try to press your thighs inwards to make the intensity go away, but Joel is so much stronger than you.

It hits you then. Fuck, it’s going to happen; you’re going to come with his mouth between your legs, and he is never going to let you live this down. This is not what you had planned. There is a little part of you that knows you would have relished in being right for once, but there’s a much bigger part that thanks the Gods that you aren’t going to live forever without coming like this.

You close your eyes as you groan, but it makes Joel slow down, “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart, look at me.”

He sucks again, and your hands fly to his hair, but it only goes on for a second, “Ya doing so well. Does it feel good, princess?”

“You’re being mean,” you whimper, tugging at the strands of hair that you have between your fingers, “Make me come.”

Joel follows through then. He buries his nose in your mound and sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with how much effort he puts into it. When you start thrashing on the bed, he wraps his arms around your legs and holds you tightly in place until you fall apart right below his mouth.

You shriek as your cunt spasms. If not for Joel’s strength, you are sure that you would have accidentally kneed him in the face, because your legs lose control of themselves as if the orgasm has severed any connection to them.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you break the swearing rule as your orgasm peaks, pushing and pulling his head away because you don’t have a clue whether you want more or less. Your back arches as Joel keeps licking through your drenched folds, you think you might have started to cry too.

Shaking breaths echo through Joel’s bedroom as you come down. Joel has removed your hands from his head, and you have slumped into the mattress with a whimper. Nothing has ever felt more dirty.

“Are you okay?” He asks after crawling up the bed to lay beside you. He rubs your stomach with his broad hand, and even that makes you let out a feeble sigh.

You laugh with exhaustion, but don’t reply.

“I do good?” He asks with a lopsided grin, rubbing the back of his hand over his soaked mouth and chin.

You turn your head to look at him but then start giggling, pointing to your own nose, “You got a little… you know.”

He doesn’t get it when he wipes his hand over his nose the first time. You laugh harder due to the dopamine flowing through your system, and he grumbles, “Well help me then, kiddo.”

When you beckon him closer, he moves without hesitation, and as you run your index finger down his nose to catch your own shiny arousal, you try to push down the feeling of butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

It’s a feeling that needs to go away. You can’t possibly love Joel Miller and survive.

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azulsluver · 6 months

Note

haunted house au??!! Is that a new event coming up? Will it relate to the last chapter 👀👀

Originally, bunch of ghouls who haunted this old house/apartment or whatever. I wasn't paying a lot of attention to that au but realizing the Halloween event was perfect for starters. For those who read the event then it would make sense of how the characters came to be in the world MC lives in.

Here are the basics of how they accustomed to their new life.

tw: yandere, ghost!twst, mentions of attempted suicide, obsessive/possessive behavior, mentions of gore-ish fantasies and acts, nudity (non-sexual), they watch you sleep every night.

Your apartment is small. With them all inside as ghosts they can physically interact with each other so it gets pretty cramped. They’re attached to you, literally, they aren’t able to leave the place they’re in unless you track down Crowley or COUGH COUGH the man who owned the store. Also moving places since it is “haunted house”, will lead to them following along.

-What did he do to deserve this? To be transferred into a world with no magic, and to be a ghost again! He can't physically touch you or use any sort of magic to collar you, it's a nightmare for Riddle when you break some of the (unknown) rules.

-To keep it short, Riddle is a noxious ghost to have around. He practically breaths down your neck for everything you do. You'll mostly see Riddle inside your bedroom, along with many others who are trying to get comfortable. Besides the bedroom, Riddle is one of the many ghosts who will volunteer to go along with you for your errands. That is if people like Ace or Floyd who always wanna tag with you.

-The second person to be leaning over your shoulder is Trey, he’s more than curious of your everyday life. What type of shampoo you wear, lotion or perfume that reminds him of you. He’s not a nauseous but you’d wish he’d leave you alone as well. The veil covering his face burns into your mind of the people he tore so easily, no matter how much he smiles sweetly at you.

-Like clingy dogs, Deuce is nearly always on you. Be it a hug, hand holding, or trapping you in his arms, he can’t stand the thought of separation now that you’re here and alive. Second clingy dog; Cater. He’s so fascinated by everything and you, often times teasing Deuce to not hoard you all for himself. Cater does bother you as much as Deuce does, his odd fixation on you is unknown and sometimes freaks even Ace out. But Cater thinks it’s adorable, funny even.

-Nobody really eats anything. They don’t have the stomach in your world to actually enjoy cuisines like you.

-Ruggie and Ace are always pulling pranks on you, inside your safe haven has been stripped from you completely. Where privacy privileges are nonexistent as the ghosts free roaming in your home. You’re always on edge with these psychopaths who have no problem using your fear to their advantage.

-None aren’t as kind as Silver however, but he doesn’t bring you much comfort. When everyone feels no guilt of killing the innocent, Silver is nothing but human to you as he shared a deep meaningful conversation with you during the late night. Times where you couldn’t sleep and he just so happens to be awake there for you.

-Speaking of clingy, Leona, Rook, Jack, Kalim, Floyd, AND Malleus are there to make your mental sanity DROP. With their weird confessions and obsession of wanting to cut you open and eat you is bad enough. Their touches burn like hell. Oh will somebody solve the problem of these big mean demons….

-The shop is your solution. With the shop owner spewing nonsense into your ear, hope drains when you catch upon the fact ghosts like them will stay until your time has been served.

-Like death themselves, until you can no longer breath will you be free, not unless one of them manages to snag your soul into their realm.

-However, there is a part-time solution if you wish to have peace and quiet. A sacred scroll that mostly works like a phone seeing how it needs to recharge energy to work; as it is unbreakable, it’s used to ward off evil spirits for a whole week before falling into a deep recharge for a month.

-Was it a scam, maybe, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

-Now there are some who aren’t as obnoxious as the rest, that being Vil, Jamil, Trey, Azul, Jade, Lilia, and Silver. With your space being respected if asked, they’re more curious about your world. Not being obnoxious doesn’t mean they aren’t playful, often making comments on how you’re gonna die. What position, what days, places, all the scenarios that feeds into your brain like scratching chalkboards.

-What should be dreaded most is sleeping hours. The touches are faint and almost weak, something that had to do with your current situation and mood. As your drowsy figure stumbles into bed, somehow they too become more docile and quiet. That sounds good but it’s the fact they don’t sleep. Instead now that you’re state is dreaming off they can’t really interact with anything else. Other than watching you in a single room. Their touch is haunting.

-No one can see them, other than you and Grim. With you and your fat little feline friend have to deal with losers like these. Sadly, Grim can’t do much as no physical contact works, much to Idia’s pleasure.

-Absolutely no one likes any of your friends coming over. Surprisingly even Sebek is possessive over you. They’d glare so hard it makes you pass out from fear they might cause actual harm. As they can’t be seen doesn’t mean the force of their wrath will.

-Having friends over is not a good idea. But leaving home doesn’t get rid of their pissy attitudes. As spirits have strong emotions and auras; leaving you feeling sick and lightheaded by their constant bickering.

-Settling for agreements are tough, people like Azul and Vil have no problem with that. In fact they were one of the many to ask before doing things. You recognize Azul as the one who attempted to drown you, as Floyd dose nothing but babble about how much he cried and how he whines it hurts. Azul and Vil someone….respect you in a way? You certainly aren’t seen as equal but from everything that’s happened to you? A pat on the back is all you’re given.

-Get use to nudity. They sure are but they’ll still be dicks about it: Ace, Sebek, Jamil, Leona, Lilia, Floyd.

-More about their physical touches. It can cause a lot of harm to your body. Leaving marks and evidence of their abuse. Depending on your circumstances it can hurt as bad as getting your nails ripped out, they aren’t able to dig their fingers into your flesh to the point of slicing limb to limb.

-That has something to do with life and deaths they aren’t allowed to kill you ad your are bounded to the book. Serving the years of unknown disasters (murder, accidents, etc…but any attempt of self harm brings agony until you are waking up with their faces hovering above you.) or old age

-Rook makes most of your situations worse somehow. He’s always teasing the others for stupid reason. He wants to sit with you when Leona has a arm slumped over your shoulder on the couch. Invading your personal space in from of Malleus when engaging (not so willingly) conversations. Asking stupid questions like; do you prefer waking up to me or blah blah when you awake from your slumber.

-“Neither.”

-They don’t seem very useful other than bothering you whenever you come back home. The problem is how small room there is, and they complain about it a lot as well.

-Luckily for you they aren’t completely useless nor do their powers; it’s still pretty weak and does little. Malleus is ancient, his power weakens him if used, but he’ll use it for your advantage. Good luck.

-That’s the power, yep. Only key holders contain powerful magic as they did back in their world.

-Technically Malleus has the power to bring good and bad luck. Depends on how silly he’s feeling. Cue the blackish grey skies with green thunder causing crashes outside.

-Riddle’s power does more harm to others however, like his usual unique magic, and the reason why you don’t bring anyone over/ victims are forced to experience a choking hazard, one that’s not visible to touch or see.

-Leona can bring you golds and jewels, those are rare times if he ever thinks you deserve it. As I say when you have a whole drawer of them.

-Azul’s power allows him to create illusions, they are weak yet powerful on your still traumatized soul. When angered he’s petty enough to bring the faces or place of the events that happened in the book.

-Kalim is like a drug, his power is anything including smoke. Smoke that can make you sleep, intoxicate you, feel hunger or smell something like childhood.

-Vil is draining and giving. Having the ability to give or take your fatigues, when used more it can cause you to bleed from the nose and lead to hallucinations. It’s best to be on his good side if you ever feel the need for more enthusiasm energy.

-Idia can create skeletons to the living world. They don’t last long but are able to sedate and hold you. He doesn’t use them much as it quickly drains him. (Skeletons won’t be seen by others btw)

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Text

You get high with them- 🍃 🚬

Support me on Ko-Fi

Luffy

You of course bought some edibles the last time you were on land. Now chilling jn bed you ate some and Luffy came in- Assuming the gummies were just normal candies he partook in some before you could give the warning.

He ate a easy 400mg and now is laying next to you as high as a kite. His gum gum abilities also being messed with by the edibles as he is quite literally dropping over the sides of the bed.

"My face feels heavy and fuzzy" He hums, blinking at you slowly.

You smile at him and giggled at his reactions.

"You're absolutely fucked up-"

He nods at this and just giggles as he lays there. Clearly a giggly high.

Sanji

You offer Sanji a bit from your joint while sitting in the kitchens. He accepts figuring it won't be that bad-

Sanji and you will talk with you for a while as you two shared the joint. When it hits him however- it hits him hard.

"This feels weird" He smirks at this and passes the joint back to you with a smirk. The man shows a whole new side of himself- were where he is just so chill and open! Super cool too.

"Yeah I do see Chef Zeff as my father. I'll never let him know since that would boost the old man's ego way to much- But I love the old guy"

Will come up with amazing cooking ideas and actually prepare them, often having music playing as he does so.

"(Y/N) I just got an amazing idea- what if I cake the creamy cheese sauce from the pasta and add it to ramen instead and top it with spicy seafood, a soft boiled egg and green onions. A cheesy spicy ramen"

Zoro

When you first offer to zoro he absolutely refuses- It isn't until a few weeks later when he sees you at it again does he agree. You make him a small joint to start out with and the two of you sit on the main deck under the stars and pass it back and forth.

He will start to get a bit chattier. Talking to you a bit more about random things- He smiles and giggles a bit more.

"This is a new experience for me- I usually don't want to dull my senses"

You take another kit and cough a bit, Waving the smoke.

"But you drink a fuck ton" You pass him back the joint and he nods.

"Touché"

Eventually however he gets sleepy, immediately turning into the sleepy high. Just laying on the deck half asleep and joining in humming a song with you.

Usopp

Truth be told- Usopp is the most open to the experience. He lies saying he does it before despite being fairly clean. However is interested in the opportunity!

Will be the one wanting to try a pipe- Which you will happily provide and the two of you will sit in the bottom haul of the ship and pass the pipe back and forth-

Usopp will actually start to yet honest with you- really really honest. It turning almost into a therapy session between the two of you.

"Man I really miss my Mum... she was just an amazing person and it makes me upset to think she only heard about how her son was a lying mess up instead lf someone great"

He admits, sadly looking at the pipe before taking another rip of the pipe.

"I'm sure she's proud of the man you are Usopp. You are a good guy and an amazing pirate" You praise, patting his shoulder.

He nods at this and smiles. Defiently a honest high Ironically.

Nami

Nami is no beginner- In her time away from Arlong she used to smoke to feel a bit of stress relief. So when you offer she comes prepared with her favorite bong.

Sitting together the two of you will talk for hours while taking massive hits of the bong. Eating snacks stolen from the kitchen as you play records.

"So- You think that Buggy can take off his dick?" You question watching Nami take another massive rip from the bong, holding it in for a good second as she nodded and releases the cloud of smoke.

"Abso-fucking-lutely he can. He said he would take every thing apart and I saw how small he had himself flying- There is no way he hasn't sent his cock through the air"

"Wait- so if every part... do you think Luffy can stretch his?"

You both burst out in hysterical laughter and continue to talk mindlessly. Nami is Defiently the social butterfly of highs, just laying out the best of conversations.

Buggy

You get caught by Buggy smoking at first- however he is fine with it and interested in what you could possibly be doing.

Buggy is more then willing to smoke with you, thinking this will be a fun experience for you all. It's an experience all right-

Let's say in stupid thoughts you guys get hotboxed in his bedroom. Buggy has his hair down and will be talking about random philosophy and sounding intelligent unlike his normal Goofy self.

"You know, I've always wondered how the system of devil fruits work?- if one can exist at a time say I die. Does that mean another Chop Chop fruit will appear? Who controls this?.. Does that mean a plant knows when I died?"

You nod at this, also curious of this question.

"You know, I never thought of that... wait wait- so Does that mean a plant is closer to a God then anything else if it knows when you die?"

You two will talk for hours about random questions, before stumbling to get some snacks in the middle of the night.

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moonstruckme · 25 days

Note

i am also sick and now dreaming of comfort from Steve :( hereby requesting a sick fic with Steve and gn!reader pls and thank you (when/if you feel like it!!)

Thanks for requesting babe <3

Steve Harrington x gn!reader ♡ 915 words

When Steve knocks for the third time, you relent.

You cover your mouth and nose with your blanket as you open the door and block the entrance with your arm. “Don’t come in here,” you warn.

Steve pushes past your arm easily. He’s carrying a small plastic bag. “How am I gonna make your soup from out there, genius?”

“Steve, I’m serious,” you say, though you close the door behind him before tailing him into the kitchen. “You don’t want to catch this.”

He sets his bag on the counter and turns on you. You’re not prepared for his hands on your face, cool and unbelievably soothing. He frowns. “I can tell," he says. "Has it been this bad all week?”

You’re so tempted to fall asleep in the safe haven of his palms that it takes you a second to answer.

“Pretty much,” you admit.

Steve hums and thumbs a line down your cheek. “I should have come sooner.”

“You shouldn’t be here now,” you say, but the fight is going out of you with every second of tenderness. You’ve been pathetically lonesome this last week, filling your home with tissues and discarded dishes while telling Steve over the phone that you weren’t that sick and then indulging in copious amounts of self-pity while walking to the store to restock on drugs and cough drops.

“You should’a had someone to take care of you,” Steve argues gently.

“I’m fine.”

His smile is wry. He lets his hand slip down to your shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before turning around. “Maybe I’ll start to believe you when you can say that without all your consonants sounding like bs and ds,” he says, rustling through his bag. “Deal?”

You sigh but follow him to the stove, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the counter. “What are you making?”

“Harrington family recipe.” Steve holds up a box of noodle soup mix. “Water and sodium.”

You start to laugh but it turns into coughing, horrific, racking coughs that you hide in your blanket. Steve’s hand lands on your back, tentative and then firm as he rubs between your shoulder blades.

“Jesus,” he says softly. “You okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak as the fit dies down.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” He sounds concerned. “I’ll meet you in there.”

You want to stay but your cough drops are in the bedroom, so you shoot your boyfriend a lame thumbs-up as you go. Every cough ignites a brood of aches, your throat and chest and temples each throbbing with their own special brand of hurt. The one in your temples sticks around the most. You grab a washcloth after popping a cough drop in your mouth, dampening it with warm water and laying it across your eyes while you lay down on the bed.

You’re still trying to suppress your cough despite the lozenge when Steve comes in. When you move the washcloth to see him, he looks upset.

“Your head hurts?” he asks, so concerned you really could cry.

“It’s just my sinuses,” you say, like that makes it better. “Is that my soup?”

“Yeah, but it’s too hot to eat.” He leans forward, setting the steaming bowl on your nightstand. “You wanna face massage for now?”

You blink. “Are you serious?”

Steve grins, suavish and yet sweet beneath that. “Yeah, honey. Close your eyes.”

You do. Steve’s hands on your face aren’t a surprise this time, but the effect is about the same. You relax, instinctively, before he’s even done anything, and when he starts pushing at the skin just above your eyebrows with his thumbs, you actually sigh.

He laughs. “Good?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is breathy and embarrassing, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

“Hey, I know things, okay?” Steve feigns offense, but he’s no good at hiding the pride in his tone. “I’ve been sick before, too.”

“Thank you. I owe you my life for this.”

His voice softens. “Don't sweat it. Just relax for a bit, yeah?”

It’s not a hard direction to follow. Steve’s thumbs are firm but kind as they press into your forehead and the areas around your eyes. You imagine your skin moldable as wax, his touch smoothing out the crackly lines of your sinuses until they’re soft and supple.

“Can I say something stupid?”

You crack an eyelid, sniffling. “Sure.”

“I’m feeling, like, weirdly protective of you right now.” Your surprised laughter launches you into another hacking fit, and Steve’s own smile is guilty as lets go of your face, rubbing your shoulder. “Seriously! I couldn’t give a shit if I’m going to get sick. You look all sad and vulnerable, I feel like a bear or something is going to come in here and you’re too weak to protect yourself, so now it’s my job.”

“You w—” You press a hand to your chest, tiny tears squeezing out of the corners of your eyes. “—wouldn’t have protected me from a bear before?”

Steve grins. “And your voice sounds hot like this, too.”

Your coughing worsens again. You shoot him a look to say Stop making me laugh, but you don’t really want him to.

“This is what does it for you?” you croak.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, there are silver linings.”

You don’t argue as Steve unwraps another cough drop and passes it to you, placing it in your mouth as he resumes his work on your headache. You suppose there are.

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libraryofgage · 5 months

Text

A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One (you're here!)

The Mummy (1999) is one my comfort movies, actually, and I realized Rick and Steve are very alike actually. It's the looks, it's the hair, it's the loyalty and devotion.

Anyway, here's an AU where Rick and Evelyn O'Connell are Steve's parents lol

If there are any other people you think would make good parents for Steve, let me know! I'll take them into consideration and see if inspiration sparks :D

Anyway, if you'd like a tag on any future parts, let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

-----

After being relegated to the open-air portion of some ruins in Crete, Steve entertains himself by slowly moving closer to the cats nearby in the hopes of petting them. His parents said he couldn't go into the ruins, but they didn't say a thing about playing with the ruins' inhabitants. Said inhabitants are gathered in a circle, some standing and some stretching out in the sun, but sticking together as though they're waiting for someone to begin a discussion.

He takes a piece of jerky from his bag, tearing it into small pieces as he peeks around the corner of a column. A few large stones are scattered around it, nearly reaching his shoulders and helping to hide him from the view of the cats on the other side. Though, in all honesty, they're probably only sticking around because they smell the jerky in his hand.

Steve grins and tosses a piece of meat over the stones, watching as it lands in the middle of what he's dubbed the Cat Council. A calico cat jolts, ears perked as she stares at the meat before taking a tentative step forward. She sniffs the meat, decides it's an acceptable offering, and eats it.

When it's gone, Steve tosses more pieces. He feeds a few more of the cats now, and he's practically buzzing with excitement. Deciding they're less likely to scatter, Steve clambers onto the huge boulder in front of him, managing to find little footholds to boost himself up. With a grunt, he makes it to the top and looks down on the Cat Council, ready to throw the last of his jerky when he hears the stone beneath him shift.

In the time it takes to blink, the ground crumbles beneath the rock, scattering the cats and dropping the stone out from under Steve. He falls with it, momentarily and terrifyingly weightless before gravity takes over and he drops. A yelp escapes him, followed by a pained cry as he lands feet-first on the rock, his ankles taking the brunt of the impact and, if not breaking, severely spraining for the effort.

Grit, dirt, and dust coat Steve's tongue and throat, and he coughs up as much as he can while taking in his new surroundings. Thankfully, sunlight filters into the underground space, allowing him to see the tiled floors and walls covered in a carefully carved and painted frieze that has, somehow, survived the centuries since its creation. Several figures wearing togas and carrying baskets line up outside a darkened arch. They don't exactly look happy to be there, but they seem resigned to their fate. Steve can even see the tears meticulously carved into several faces.

When he follows the frieze, he realizes the space he's in is really a hallway, one that seems to stretch forever on either side of him. Amazingly, there's no other sign of aging in it. No spiderwebs crowding the walls, no erosion from wind or water damage, and no sign of people having walked the passageway in centuries. It's the kind of perfectly preserved discovery Steve and his mother lose their heads over while his father waits for something to go wrong.

Steve is about to try standing (if he can stay upright, maybe he can explore a little and find something to show his mother before they realize he's gone missing) when he hears...a snort? Maybe it's more like a heavy puff of air. He tilts his head, twisting around to squint down the corridor to his right. Something glints in the darkness, close to what he assumes is the ceiling, and Steve grabs his flashlight.

He clicks it on, aiming the beam at the ground and slowly moving it down the corridor. He stops when the light shines on cloven hooves, a bad feeling beginning to build in his chest. With a now somewhat shaking hand, Steve slowly raises the beam, that bad feeling growing as it shines over furry hind legs and a furry waist that seamlessly blends into scarred skin just below the navel. Despite everything, he keeps going, only confirming his worst fears when his flashlight finally reaches the top to find the head of a bull staring straight at him, the horns cracked and nearly scraping the ceiling, the black eyes undeniably trained on Steve, and a glimmering golden ring looped through its nose, as untarnished by time as the friezes.

For ten seconds (Steve counts while trying to control his panic), he and the minotaur stare at each other. Then, it puffs out air again, the force strong enough to sway the ring in its nose. Steve grips the flashlight tighter, swallowing around the wariness threatening to choke him and briefly wondering if, maybe, centuries have somehow soothed the minotaur's anger.

And then it roars, deep and loud and powerful enough to shake the corridor and bring more dust and grit raining down on Steve from above. It lowers its head, aiming its horns straight at Steve, and charges with all the fury of a creature that's been denied centuries' worth of sacrifices.

Steve screams as the minotaur's hooves shake the ground with each step, too scared to do anything more than sit there and wonder if there will be enough of his body for his parents to identify when the minotaur is done with him.

He's just about accepted the answer (it's no; the answer is no) when something grabs the back of his shirt and yanks him up just before the minotaur crashes into the boulder. Strong arms wrap around Steve, holding him close as his father's familiar voice says, "I gotcha!"

Steve blinks, his heart still hammering as he clings to his father's neck and looks at his mother over his shoulder. She's staring at the hole, a frown on her face as the minotaur's enraged roar sounds from below. "Rick, I think we should go now," she says, grabbing the back of Rick's shirt and yanking him back just in time to avoid the minotaur's giant hand slamming into the ground next to the hole.

"Great idea, Evie," Steve's father says, his voice a little strained as he passes Steve over and pulls out a gun. "I'll cover you. Get Steve to the car, get it running, and I'll meet you there." The minotaur screams again, and Steve is still close enough to see it realize it can climb the stone to reach the surface.

"You have three minutes, or I'm coming back for you."

Rick looks over his shoulder, flashing a grin at Steve and his mother. "I'll be right behind you," he promises.

And he was. With a minotaur right on his heels and another week added to their time in Crete while they tried to get the whole situation straightened out without too many casualties or Steve's uncle Jonathan ruining more than one good pair of trousers.

-----

Steve doesn't think he'll grow used to the smell and sounds of the hospital. The antiseptic, sterile atmosphere isn't too bad, but the constant background noise has the potential to drive him up the walls. It helps that he, Eddie, and Max were finally moved to a room together, mostly muffling the beeps and PA announcements with each other's chatter, snoring, and other noises.

Right now, everything is drowned out by the kids arguing with Eddie about their next campaign. Eddie wants to do a sequel of their current one while they've been gunning for something sci-fi-themed if Steve is understanding their debate correctly. He's not sure why it's so important, but their voices are creating nice background noise, and Robin's rhythmic, habitual tapping of her fingers on his arm grounds him, so he lets his mind wander.

Honestly, Steve thinks they'd all benefit from a nice trip somewhere. Maybe Paris. They can't possibly run into anything in Paris, right?

Well. The catacombs do exist, and nobody knows what's down there. So they'd have to stay well away.

But still. Paris. The food. The Louvre. The history. And, you know, maybe they could just pop into the catacombs just so Steve can take pictures and show his mother later. Following a strictly regulated guided tour should be perfectly fine.

Steve drops his head back against the pillow, wincing slightly when the action tugs at the stitches along his throat. They hurt, but his worst injuries are on his sides where the demobats bit and feasted. The doctor said they'd scar permanently, looking somewhat apologetic about the fact until Steve waved her off. What's a few more for the collection?

Besides, at the time the doctor was giving him a rundown of his injuries, another had been doing the same for Eddie. His list was pretty similar to Steve's, and it only took him a few seconds to realize something very important: if Steve hadn't been there to share the demobat burden, Eddie would be dead.

That fact had sat with him for a while. Death is no stranger to Steve. In fact, he's intimately familiar with the concept. And all the ways it can be subverted. Steve doesn't want to think he'd be the kind to pull out the Book of the Dead after everything his parents have told him, but he also knows he'd do anything for the people he loves. Like Eddie. Like Robin. Like the kids.

Steve has risked his life for them numerous times, and he'd do it again without a moment's hesitation.

"I can't believe we're only just finding out!"

This statement comes from the hallway on the other side of the room's closed door. The voice is achingly familiar to Steve, one he's only heard over the phone for the past few months, and he sits up straight. The conversation in the room falters for a few seconds before picking up again after the kids decide it's probably not relevant to them.

And then comes hurried, angry footsteps outside the door and a doctor's voice saying, "I'm sorry, but only authorized visitors are allowed to see patients."

"I wouldn't stay in her way," a man's voice says, his tone teetering between amused and genuinely sympathetic toward the doctor.

Apparently, he doesn't heed the warning, and the room is silent enough that everyone hears the following tirade. "Authorized visitors? Authorized visitors?! Are you stopping me from seeing my son? Who on earth do you think you are? If you don't get out of the way, I will make you move, mister."

"I wonder when she'll realize she's got the wrong room," Dustin says, sounding amused.

"Ma'am, I ca--," the doctor's words are cut off by a sudden yelp and the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor outside.

The door is thrown up to show a woman, her shoulders heaving and her curly hair in disarray. She's covered in grime like she dragged herself out of a grave and came right away without stopping to clean up. Which, honestly, might be the case. Behind her is a similarly disheveled man, a fond smile on his face as he looks at the woman. "That's my girl," he says, the smile becoming a full-blown grin when the woman smacks his chest without turning around.

The sight is so familiar that Steve nearly tears up. He hasn't seen his parents in months, and their appearance suddenly lifts a weight that he didn't even realize was on his shoulders. Whatever else happens, they'll take care of it.

Finally, Evelyn's eyes land on Steve, and the anger on her face melts away into relief and worry. She rushes over, sliding around Robin before she can move, and cups Steve's face in her hands. "Oh, my poor boy, are you okay? What have the doctors said?" she asks.

Steve's father hovers behind her, giving Steve a once-over with his eyes before determining he's fine. "Better question," he says, placing a hand on Evelyn's shoulder and leaning closer, "Where in the hell were your guns?"

Steve is about to answer when his mother whirls on Rick. "His guns? Our son is in a hospital bed, and you're asking where his guns were?! Are you daft? Have you lost your mind?" she asks, poking her finger into his chest.

He sighs, takes her hand, and wraps his other arm around her waist. "Evie, he's fine. He's awake, and nobody in here looks like they're preparing for a funeral. Clearly, he's gonna be discharged soon. So, I think asking where his guns were is reasonable because maybe he wouldn't be in a hospital bed if he'd had them."

"Dad is right," Steve says, getting his parents' attention. He grins at them. "I'm fine. Doctors said it would just be another scar. Or, well, like three more scars. Doesn't matter. I should get discharged later this week."

Before Evelyn or Rick can say anything else, Dustin asks, "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"Language!" Steve shouts, turning his head to glare at Dustin.

"Did you seriously just call him out on language?" Rick asks. "You?"

"His mom gets upset when he swears, so I've been trying to set a good example," Steve mumbles, slumping down in his bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Everybody, these are my parents. Evelyn and Rick O'Connell. Parents, this is, well, everybody."

"Oh, let me see if I can name them," Evelyn says, her eyes lighting up some at the challenge before pulling away from Rick. She points to each child as she correctly names them. "I already know Robin. So nice to see you again dear--"

"Nice to see you, too, Mrs. O'Connell."

"--Now, you must be Dustin. I've heard plenty about you, young man. And based on the haircut, you're Will. You've got to be Mike, and you two are Lucas and Erica. This must be El, and you're Max, right? I'm sure you'll get better soon, dear." When Evelyn turns and sees Eddie, she gets a softer smile. "And you're Eddie. I've heard quite a bit about you, too. All good, I promise. It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Wait," Lucas says, frowning slightly in confusion, "Eddie and Steve have only known each other for, like, a week?"

Everyone looks at Steve, and he shrugs in response. "Eddie was pretty impossible to ignore in high school," he says, brushing off the questioning looks until only Robin and Eddie are left staring, the former with a knowing glint in her eye and the latter with a confused one in his.

"Sorry, I still can't get over Steve having parents," Mike says, his nose scrunched up like this entire thing might be some hallucination.

"Did you think he was an orphan?" Robin asks, shooting him a similar scrunched-nose look.

"I don't know! He's never talked about them! I thought his parents were, like, absent assholes or something," Mike says, his shoulders raising defensively.

"That's our fault, I'm afraid," Evelyn says, smiling apologetically as she moves to stand by Steve again. She places a hand on his head, gently carding her fingers through his hair. The motion is familiar and reassuring, and Steve leans into the touch, unaware of Eddie staring at his mom's hand.

"Our work is pretty, uh, need-to-know," Rick says, shrugging as he reaches behind Evelyn and places a hand on Steve's shoulder. "As in, nobody needs to know."

Steve is nodding in agreement when more footsteps sound from the hallway and his uncle slides into the doorway, nearly tripping on his own feet. He clears his throat, adjusts his jacket, and looks up to find a whole room staring at him.

He blinks and tugs on his collar, shifting his gaze to Evelyn and Rick. "Well, after you lot ran off, I got us visitor passes," he says, holding up three stickers.

"You stole them," Steve and Rick say, their voices in synch and nearly indistinguishable.

To his credit, Jonathan doesn't question it. He just scoffs, walking into the room and slapping a sticker on Rick's chest. "I am offended. How could you possibly think I stole them?" he asks.

"Should I remind you how we met?" Rick asks, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan.

"Fair enough. Carry on," Jonathan says, looking away and moving to Steve's side. "Good to see you, old boy. Glad you aren't dead, and sorry it took so long to get your parents here. It's not easy making phone calls to the Amazon Rainforest."

Steve shrugs. "I figured," he says, watching as Evelyn pulls her hand from his hair to place the visitor sticker on her chest.

There are going to be endless questions later. The kids are definitely going to try to grill Evelyn and Rick about their work and about Steve as a child. But there's plenty of time for that later.

For now, Steve is happy to just relax and let his parents take over. He doesn't have to be the responsible one anymore, and he can finally breathe with that weight off his shoulders.

----

Tag List (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@badgerburrows

#steddie #steddie fic #the mummy 1999 crossover #steve harrington #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #jonathan carnahan #eddie munson #the party #future steddie #here for a good time not a long time #that's the vibe with these crossovers btw #just enjoy the chaos lol

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