#girl i’m so dizzy it’s insane

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — sometimes your boyfriend’s want for you just seems to be insatiable.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, mating press, breeding, biting, he loses control of his technique a teeny tiny bit at the end, im going absolutely insane. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiii this is a lil mix of my gojo thoughts over the past few months, my sanity is slipping as u can tell <3

the way gojo satoru was in bed was exactly how he was in real life, absolutely merciless when he wanted to be, you realise with the dizzy haze in your mind and the pillow he’s shoved under your hips. there’s a pleasurable burn in your thighs where he’s got them folded into you, your ankles dangling by his ears as his hips press into your ass and the way he looks over you is needy, and a little wild.

but he only really got like this on on a few occasions, like after a gruelling mission, a boring mountain of paperwork or maybe you’d been teasing him. sometimes he’s just consumed by the idea of you carrying his kids— he’s so incredibly insatiable.

“you feel me right here, sweet thing, hm?” the snowy haired man above you hisses with a languid roll of his hips, deliberately pressing into the sweet spots inside of you that he always seems to be able to find so easily. but you can barely breathe, nevermind answer with how full you feel — your warm walls twitching around his heavy shaft before he’s giving you a few more thrusts.

“don’t hold out on me, it feels good, right?” gojo goads, chuckles when the next particularly deep kiss of his cock along your insides has your lips parting to moan, eyes squeezing shut as you wriggle underneath him.

“‘ts too deep, satoru! fuck—“ you manage, voice breaking under the weight of your own arousal but shit— he loves you like this. pliant and pretty and all his. you’re basically begging for him to give you his soul, to pour it into your body and your bones until you’re twitching— his stamina was limitless after all, an endless pool of energy.

“oh? but i’m sure you can take more..” gojo’s words are a low drawl as he curls over your folded figure, making your muscles scream for some sort of relief but he still manages to give you more. he begins a pace that’s so deep, so animalistic that you feel like you could black out with the way the pleasure rips through you, making your body clap against his as his balls smack loudly against your ass and suddenly he’s even deeper.

“see, i knew it.” it’s smug despite the the trembling undercurrent to his tone, breaking under the weight of his own arousal as his voice takes an octave higher. but you’re doing so well for him, your eyes are rolled back— lips parted and you’re basically begging for him to go harder when he leans into press his lips against yours, pushing his name between your lips as your hands grab at him for any sort of relief.

“almost there, right?” gojo groans against you with the next quiver of your walls; the next particularly heavy thrust makes your thighs tremble and he’s so deep it almost hurts, making something spark and burn along your inside as he fucks you into the mattress like a wild animal.

you whimper, barely— it’s a desperately pathetic little sound, wound up tight and it makes him pull away to look at you, crystalline eyes cloudy with lust before his lips are stretching into a smirk.

“oh, more?” gojo’s head cocks to the side and you know you’re done for when his pace picks up, every heavy thrust is driven by the muscles in his body and your pussy squelches loudly with every wet connection of his hips.

“oh, i’ll give you more, baby. so greedy f’ me, hm?” despite his teasing, he’s babbling— sweat beading along his skin as the snowy peaks of his hair frame his flushed features and fuck, the pretty sight above you only makes you feel even better. you’re so high off his desperation, every muscle in your body screams under his but the nerves in your body cry even louder with how good you feel— with how much your body craves him.

“‘ts so tight, you milkin’ me, sweet girl? how many you want, huh? give you as many as you need. wanna see you swollen f’ me, you want that, mhm?” gojo’s barely coherent but his words only make you squeeze around him tighter— a silent little invitation as every thrust has you crying more, more, more! satoru, want your cum—please! punched out little gasps and cries as he digs the orgasm out of you.

“oh, you’ll look so pretty f’ me—f-fuck!” his huge body is looming over yours, pressing you into the mattress and the pillows beneath you. your thighs are flush against his abdomen and chest, and your lungs feel like they quake on every exhale as your lips part to moan. he presses himself into you— face nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he grazes his teeth along the skin there, headboard screeching loudly in time with every smack of his hips.

“‘toru, please please please—‘m g’nna,” you tremble as you shake beneath gojo, thighs tensing tight against his body and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you as he smirks against your skin. your orgasm hits you so suddenly, so hard and good that your toes curl where they hang over his shoulders, your body stiffening beneath him and the first milking compression of your pussy makes his pace stutter, hugs him so tight he can’t help but bite so hard into the sensitive skin of your neck he draws blood.

“should see h-how pretty you look like this. tell me ‘ts all mine, y’ gonna make me a daddy, yeah? g’nna fill you up so good. oh, this pussy’s made f’ me, ain’t it?”

his body trembles as he pulls back slightly to watch your cream pool around the base of his cock, your slick smeared along his skin and your walls still throb with every unforgiving push of his hips. your orgasm feels like it stretches on forever as you gasp out broken yeah, yours, love you so much ‘toru, waves rolling through your body with the heat you feel pour and sting along your nerves. it only takes a few more clapping thrusts and your choked confessions before hes kissing you, just as he likes as his lips curl into you.

gojo cums hard, thick and heavy inside of you when he feels your tongue push against his, swallowing both of your groans into the kiss as he pushes his load into your puffy cunt. you’re both so lost in bliss, so unaware of the electricity across your boyfriends skin and the uncomfortable pressure that seems to suddenly weigh down on your intertwined bodies.

the bedroom light flickers but you don’t notice, he’s slurring curses against your lips as he almost pins your thighs to your chest completely, the air between you seems tighter— atoms trembling in the finate space. but he’s continuing to fuck into your sensitive pussy with tiny little thrusts you don’t notice the creek of your furniture as it twitches out of place— like it’s being pulled towards you both. the small flickers of purple fizzle out when you’re both spent and he’s collapsing on top of you with a low, breathy chuckle, making you whine with the cramp you feel in your body.

“‘toru! you’re heavy.” you grumble, voice worn and scratchy but it doesn’t move gojo as he cuddles deeper into you, leaving sweet little kisses along your skin with obnoxious kissy noises— a stark contrast to how filthy he was being a second ago.

you’re both breathing deep as you give up trying to escape from underneath him, opting to press your fingers through his damp hair instead before he finally moves. he pulls back, enough for his cock to push his cum out of your pussy as he does, squelching and dripping into the mattress beneath you both as you jolt slightly. “careful, ‘ts messy, ‘toru.”

gojo whistles lowly before he looks at you again, one of your legs still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder before he’s placing a sweet kiss to your ankle, then following it up with a painfully languid, experimental thrust as his crystalline eyes focus on the mess he’s made of you.

“come on, sweet girl. you’re not nearly full enough f’ me yet.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

[coryosbaby]

—ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ‘ᴛɪʟʟ ɪ ᴘᴀꜱꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ !

(Luke Castellan x bimbo! Reader)

Content warning . Victory sex? Choking, size kink, dumbification, marking, Sub! Reader, Dom! Luke

“Baby!”

Luke’s excited voice echoes throughout your empty cabin. Your curious eyes look up at him, distracted by drawing on pink lipstick with a fine tipped brush. Your lovely boyfriend wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses you flat on the mouth.

“We won,” he says, grinning. “I took the flag.”

You smile excitedly, turning around to hug him.

“That’s so amazing, Luke!” You reply. “ I’m so happy for you!”

It’s true. Your lover may be the best fighter in camp, but that doesn’t mean you don’t get giddy everytime he wins (yet another) capture the flag game.

Not to mention he’s like, insanely hot afterwards. Taking note of him, he’s sweaty and flush with the thrill of battle, and you think this is his best look: when he’s claimed something for his own.

You guide him to your bed, checking him for any major cuts or bruises. He never has any, and that doesn’t change today. You drop to your knees regardless, and nuzzle your face against his thigh. It’s one of your favorite ways to show affection towards him at times like these, when he needs to calm down and let his body rest.

However, you can’t help but clench when his hand wraps around your hair and he pushes his hips towards you. He does it unknowingly, out of instinct, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing a kiss to the crotch of his jeans.

He pauses, a smirk forming on his face.

“Need something, baby?”

You nod, a small “mhm” leaving your lips.

His eyes are teasing as his fingers grasp your chin, directing you to look at him.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks, all serious and deep, and you smile up at him, doe eyes gleaming as you excitedly play with the zipper on his jeans.

“I’ll be so good, Luke. Promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

He thumbs over your bottom lip, watching your hands much tinier than his unzip his fly. You pull out his hard, aching cock, the tip pretty and pink. You watch a pearl of arousal slide down his shaft, watch as he looks down hungrily at you. Your mouth waters.

You kiss his cockhead, letting his stringy precum glaze your lips, before sticking out your tongue and gently licking him. He lets out a heavy breath, his hand falling into your hair.

“Fuck,” he groans, sighing. “Such a good little princess for me.”

You whine, beginning to guide him into the warm heat of your mouth. His smell, all sweaty and musky, makes your brain fuzzy. It’s disgusting really, how desperate you are for him after a tournament. Letting him fuck your throat after a game is almost tradition.

And he knows it, too, teases you as you take him all the way in the back of your throat and choke on him. He presses you further down and lets your nose rest against his pubic bone. Your eyes roll back.

“Mmm,” he groans. Tears leak out of your eyes and smear your mascara as your throat contracts. “ Does my dick taste good, baby? How’s it feel having the greatest swordsman in the entire camp fuckin’ your throat, huh? Y’like that?”

You can’t reply, and he knows that. But you let out a guttural moan, making Luke growl.

“Such a stupid little thing. I asked you a question, baby, I expect you to answer it.”

Your lips slide off of him with a loud pop, your lipstick smearing on the side of your cheek as you gasp for breath.

“Love it, Luke. Love your cock so so much, just wanna suck on it forever…”

He grins, then, lets out a little chuckle between his lips as he guides you back down on his cock.

“That’s better.”

You trace your tongue filthily along the vein on him, move your hand down to palm one of his balls. You’re almost dizzy with it as you suck him, and you think you can stay like this for the rest of your life with his hands in your hair and his cock down your throat.

Luke has a primal stare as he watches your lipstick coat his cock in pretty pink stains. His hips buck up, once, twice. He’s about to cum, so he pulls you off of him.

“Gorgeous girl,” he compliments softly, wiping your mouth with his thumb. Drool drips down your chin and neck. “Want you on your clothes off and you on your back, okay? Can you do that for me?”

You nod obediently. Your wobbly legs lift up and you begin to unzip your pink jacket, then your Bebe top underneath comes off with two perfectly manicured hands. You slide your skirt off, and unclip your bra. But before you can take off your heels, Luke tsks. Ever the gentleman (to you, at least), he puts your foot on his thigh and undoes the laces on them.

“Are these new?” He asks, genuinely curious, as if he isn’t about to fuck your pretty brains out.

You nod, heart racing as he smiles up at you.

“I like them,” he drawls, gently tickling your ankle. “They’re cute.”

“Cute?” You say, giggling. “My shoes are cute?”

“Of course they are. They’re stilletos.“

You smile at the fact that he’s remembering the type of shoe because of your many rants to him about clothes. You let him remove them for you before sliding your panties down your legs and crawling onto the bed. He gives your ass a teasing slap as you crawl over him to your fluffy pink pillows.

He towers over you, slipping his shirt off and revealing his bare torso. You almost blush like a school girl, and pinch one of this biceps.

“You’re getting so strong,” you say in awe, feeling the muscle underneath your hand. Luke laughs, kissing your jaw.

“Gotta get big to protect my girl, don’t I?”

You bite your lip, his words sending a throbbing sensation straight to your already dripping core. He pushes his jeans and underwear past his meaty thighs and hastily kicks them off before giving his cock a few heavy strokes. He brushes his tip up against your folds, teasing. You whine, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I need it,” you say against his ear, sugary and sweet. “I need you.”

And how can he resist that, when you’re so pretty and pliant underneath him? He groans, pressing himself into your tight entrance, his hands going to either side of your head as he splits you open. Your thighs spread of their own accord, inviting him in even further.

“Such a tight little slut,” he moans out, watching how your pussy lips practically choke his cock. Your back arches.

“All for you,” you whisper.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he punctuates each word in between thrusts, his pace increasing ferociously at the thought of owning you. “This little pussy? These tits? That fucking brain of yours, it’s all mine. Mine to toy with, mine to use… all of it.”

Your eyes roll back as he begins to mercilessly pound your pussy into the mattress. His big hand plays with your throat, then his fingers wrap around it and he squeezes. Your airflow is nearly cut off, and you gasp for breath as he presses harder. Your pussy gushes slick at the movement. Your lips press against the vein on his wrist, and you stick open mouthed kisses to the skin there. It isn’t long before you need to be let up; however, Luke’s grip on your neck doesn’t move. In fact, it tightens— you try to move it off, try to lift your head up to breathe, but Luke slams you back down into the pillows. Your hand grabs his much bigger one, a small, choked murmur of his name tumbling from your lips, begging, “Luke.. please”.

And that makes his hips stutter. He knows you want this, knows that this is something you’ve always liked. If he had actually hurt you, you would’ve said the safe word.

He shoots inside you with an animalistic growl, his cum coating your inner walls in thick white ropes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Your legs shake and squeeze his hips as he empties himself into you, your clit still throbbing hotly. Luke isn’t a non giving lover, and while his softening cock rests inside your cunt he reaches down and rubs slow, deliberate circles into your clit.

“Cmon,” he breathes out, watching your pussy spasm. “Cmon, baby, give it to me. Let me see you cream on my fucking cock.”

You whimper loudly, your orgasm hitting you so intensely you fear you may pass out. Your back arches up into Luke’s touch as he helps you ride out your high. When you come down, shaking and sticky with release, Luke’s fingers leave you and he wraps you into your arms. He presses a kiss to your hair, and you sigh happily when he pulls you on top of his spent body.

“Luke?” You ask him. Your fingers play with the hand shaped bruise forming on your throat.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

@mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆ #luke castellan #Luke Castellan x reader #Luke Castellan x fem! reader #Luke Castellan x bimbo! reader #Luke Castellan smut #Luke Castellan fanfic #Luke Castellan blurb #Percy Jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy jackson fanfic #Percy Jackson series #luke Percy Jackson

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#savannah’s fics #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington sick fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fluff

[pandoraslxna]

hi! first and foremost all of ur writing is GODSENT I’m hooked‼️ secondly, i saw ur requests were open and was wanting to see if you could write a neteyam smut where the reader is in heat and is completely insatiable so it leads to some thigh riding and it just isn’t making the cut so he just sits you on his face? and I love ur characterization so with lots of dialogue and him talking you through it pretty please🙏🏽 thank you for gifting us constantly !!

The heat that spreads

adult Neteyam x female avatar reader

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, thigh riding, oral, face sitting, praise kink, heat cycle

Words: 1.9k

Notes: thank you so much for your kind words they mean the world to me!! 😭🫶🏻 I had so much fun writing this skfjdks

Being a Na’vi had it’s perks.

The newly unlocked strength, heightened senses of smell, inhuman hearing and the agility of your avatar body— it was incredible! But there were still some things you had to get used to. One of these things being the monthly heat cycle every female Na’vi goes through, once their bodies are fully developed. It’s a blessing and a curse. You still haven’t figured out when exactly it happens, you just know that it’s not regular and therefore usually comes as a surprise. But you and your mate are trying to make the best out of it.

Right now, you’re sitting on Neteyam thigh, helping him braid his hair, when it suddenly hits you. It starts with a strange yet familiar feeling in your stomach, a warmth that spreads from your lower abdomen right into your lap. It tingles. Makes your head feel dizzy and clouded. You can feel your pupils dilate, senses on high alert as you inhale your mates scent. Neteyam smells like rain, fresh cut grass and tree bark. "What’s wrong?", he tilts his head, some of his braids lazily fall over his shoulder and you swallow thickly. He caresses your cheek with his big hand, thumb gently brushing over your bottom lip. "'Teyam", it comes out as a whine and you blush, "I- I think I‘m starting my…" Neteyams eyes widen. Has it been a month already? He thinks back to the last time with a smug grin on his face, when the two of you couldn’t leave the nest for nearly three days.

You try to clench your thighs together for some friction but it’s impossible with Neteyams leg inbetween them. You curse the position your in, but then he shifts under you, the muscle of his thigh brushes against your clit and you gasp.

You don’t even mean to, but your body has a mind of its own and you slowly start grinding yourself against his thigh. "Please", you beg for his touch, "C-Can we, uhm…" Your eyes point to the weaved sleeping matt, that you two share, across the marui pod. A contented purr of your name rumbles in his chest, your toes curling into the soles of your feet as your name drips from his tongue like warm honey. "Keep doing that", he chuckles and guides your hips to keep moving, "We‘ll get to mating soon, my sweet girl. Now I just want to help you get to your release. The first of many." His words aren’t just promises, they’re vows. He enjoys the days of your heat more than anything, willing to bend you in every possible position until you’re finally satisfied. His stamina seemingly increased during these times, thanks to a certain hormone only the female’s mate could smell.

You whimper softly, the tips of your ears burning with an intense heat as you stare up at your mate through lidded eyes. Neteyams words sent your heart a flutter, stomach bunching into a tight knot as your nerves tingle like a live wire.

You felt small sitting on his thigh, dwarfed by his much larger stature as you struggle to stay seated. You can feel the heat pooling rapidly in the pit of your stomach, heart beating hard against your ribs and pounding loudly in your ears as your breaths come out in short, rough pants. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it almost drives you insane. It hurts.

You experiment with different paces and pressures, trying to figure out the best way to get yourself off. It doesn’t take very long to find out what works best for you.

"You're dripping all over my thigh,” Neteyam notes amused. He’s mesmerized by the sight of you using him for your own pleasure.

You take a deep, shuddering breath, tongue darting over your dry lips as you swallow around the lump in your throat.

"'Teyam," you wail, voice turning into a whine laced with tiny hiccups. "It’s, fuck, it’s not enough… It hurts, I want to– need to cum so bad."

"I know, little one. You're doing so well for me", he praises, with his fingers digging into your hips he helps you move faster and cause more and more friction. Neteyam then tenses the muscles of his thigh, which completely changes the feeling. It’s so much harder now, the friction a lot more satisfying. "Better?"

You nod frantically, incapable of forming a coherent response.

Every rock of your hips is bringing you a jolt of pleasure. It feels so euphoric that you find yourself never wanting it to end. Everything‘s being stimulated with each buck of your hips and small shivers shot up your spine every time you brush your clit against his muscles.

You were growing wetter by the second, so much so that a wet patch was beginning to form on his skin. Which was making it easier and even more pleasurable for you to glide yourself up and down his thigh. When you brush your clit once more, you really couldn’t help the loud moan that left your lips.

"You’re close already, aren’t you? My sweet girl is going to cum just from grinding herself on my thigh", Neteyam chuckles teasingly and his intense eye contact is too much for you. You shy away from him but his free hand reaches for your face, thumb and forefinger digging into your jaw as he tilts your chin up. "No, you keep looking at me with those pretty eyes or I’ll stop." You can feel his hot breath against your skin, every hair on the nape of your neck standing up at his close proximity. "D-Don’t stop, please! Please I’m so– so close Neteyam!" Your breathing wavered, hot, burning coil in your stomach threatening to snap as you tremble. He‘s in complete control of your movements, strong hands digging at your hip so hard, you know it’s going to bruise tomorrow. He moves your body along to the rhythm that you desire. Your face twists with pleasure as you moan with complete abandon, his name like a prayer on your lips as your wet pussy slides across his thigh. Neteyam hums, voice deep and thick as he speaks to you in a hushed whisper. "It’s okay, little one. You can cum, let go for me."

You don’t hesitate to obey his command, the coil in your stomach shattering into a million pieces as your orgasm violently courses through you. Your body trembles and you scream your mates name with pure bliss, clinging to him like your life depends on it. Your movements falter, fingers numb as you hold tight onto his shoulders and what little sanity you had left. Neteyam forces you to ride out the waves of your pleasure high, pressing his leg hard against your clit until you beg for him to stop, crying that’s it’s too much but not enough at the same time. If he keeps that rhythm up, you’re sure you would immediately cum again.

Your legs are shaking and you pitch forward, burying your head against his board chest and seeking the warmth of his skin. His sturdy grip on you slowly eases, fingers gently threading through your braided hair and his other hand caressing your back to soothe the erratic beating of your heart. You hum with content as you press your ear against his chest, listening to his thundering heartbeat as you try to regain control of your breathing.

"How do you feel, my love?", he kisses the top of your head.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar heat to return to your core, spreading like a wild fire and you hide your blushing face in his chest. "Wasn’t enough", you mumble and it’s barely above a whisper. "Hm, I thought so", Neteyam grins, "my desperate little mate." You don’t even know what’s happening at first, as he maneuvers you into a new position. When your eyes fly open, you find your mate almost flat on the ground, laying right below you and with his head resting between your thighs. Your eyes widen when he playfully bites down onto the soft flesh of your thigh, careful not to actually hurt you with his canine. His hot breathe fans over the wet skin of your cunt and you shiver. "Neteyam, what are you–" He leans forward to place a sudden kiss right on your clit and you choke on your words. "Sit down", he demands and his words alone make you weak in the knees. One of his hands cups your ass and the other one your hip, with his three long fingers digging into your skin he supports you, pulls you down closer to where he licks his lips, ready to consume his favorite meal. You do as you’re told, carefully lowering yourself to sit on his face and immediately, his tongue darts out to lick a stripe from your dripping entrance to your clit.

He moans at your taste, at the way you fist your hands in his hair to anchor him so you can rut against his face. Against his nose and those puffy lips, so roughly that you can feel his head moving with the force of your hips. And yet he’s moaning uncontrollably, gasping and groaning your name and between slurps and sucks.

He’s a voracious pussy eater. Tireless, hungry, eager to please, but most of all responsive even though he’s nearly smothered under your weight as you ride his face.

"Holy shit— oh, fuck, 'Teyam you’re gonna make me cum again!"

His mouth and his tongue work overtime, swirling around your clit. Suckling on your lips. Sticking his tongue as far into you as he possibly can, ignoring his aching jaw to lick up every little drop of your delicious juices. Smothering himself and shortening his breath from stuffing his nose into your mound to reach as far into you as he can. And then– then, Neteyam does the one thing that he knows you absolutely love.

Taking a hand off your hip, he slips two of his fingers into your soaking wet cunt and curls them just right. Pairing powerful strokes of his hand with long sucks of his mouth, he coaxes you over the edge with such familiarity and such confidence that it takes your breath away. Literally.

"Neteyam!” You gasp, hands fisting in his hair and pulling as your thighs snap tight around his head. Your orgasm almost takes you out, it makes you shake like the leaves of a tree in a storm, your muscles jumping and spasming and making you twitch uncontrollably until it plateaus into complete, white-out inducing bliss. His fingers keep pumping in and out of you through the clamping of your walls, stretching out your orgasm until you’re slumping down ever so slowly, your body slowly going limp from the incredible pleasure.

With a gentle tap to your thigh, you untangle yourself from your mate, lifting your hips from his face. He’s glistening with your slickness and it makes you flustered. When he sits up, your eyes immediately fall on the outline of his hard and painfully neglected cock under his loincloth. It makes you swallow almost hungrily.

He grins at you, palming himself over the thin cloth as he repositions himself once again. With a hand flat on your chest he gently lays you down and then sits on his heels, right between your thighs. "Satisfied yet?", he tilts his head and licks his lips clean. You shake your head no and he chuckles. "What do you want? Talk to me, my sweet girl and I’ll do whatever you want."

"More. Please, I want… more."

#avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam x reader #neteyam x female reader #awow #avatar way of water #atwow #･ ｡ﾟ☆: *my works* :☆ﾟ.

[lilmashae]

(she ride dick like a) carnival !

.·:*¨༺ when you ride the members of riize ༻¨*:·.

shotaro

he’s extremely flushed ! he might even be flustered depending on the situation — he’ll cope by hiding his head in the crook of your neck , or burying it into your chest. however , under different circumstances , he’s holding onto your waist , guiding you on top of his shaft. times like this , he’ll pepper kisses all over your neck and collarbones whilst his hands generously grope your ass.

eunseok

absolutely loving every single second if it… he’ll tease you like crazy — you’re not getting any help at all. after all , he’ll ask you what’s even the point of you riding him if he has to help you out or put in any work. eunseok would absolutely adore watching you squirm and try so hard to stay up straight. i think eventually , he’d cave — he’ll be coming to terms with the fact that he can’t tell you no. you’re to pretty to do everything all by yourself , you’re just his pretty little baby !

sungchan

is either very whiny and flustered or super mean :( when he’s all sweet and whiny , he’ll have his hands all over you — literally. the poor boy’s squeezing your waist and pawing at your sides relentlessly. he can’t help being uncoordinated , you just feel so good sucking him in between your slick , gummy walls. when he's feeling mean though , much like eunseok , he’ll prefer to let you do all the work. he’s not helping you — he won’t even cave. on top of everything else , he’ll either drown you in praise or the latter. however , the praise is more humiliating than anything.

wonbin

nothing unusual for you two , i’m a firm believer in pillow princess wonbin. he’s handset than usual though — he’s FULLY reclined: the sweet boy refuses to do any work at all… his head’s thrown far back and his hands are either cupping your boobs and fondling with your waist. he’s very whiny and loud , he doesn’t care who hears !

seunghan

he’s a combination of shotaro and sungchan ! he’s really whiny but still dominant in a sense that he’s smithing you in praise and kissing you everywhere. he wants you to know how good you’re making him feel , so he’s very vocal. i think he’d mark you up realll good while you’re riding him. the way you bounce up and down on his cock has him breathless and dizzy. he’s stuttering and all flushed… yet , he’s still worshipping every inch of you — he’s by far the most pussydrunk , he might even refer to you as a goddess… absolutely insane about you.

sohee

he probably would never ask even though he’d really want to. so when you do ride him , he’s thanking you like you’ve done him some HUGE favor. i feel like he’s girthy , so when you sink down your biting your lip and looking for anything to hold on to — he thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. sohee feels so lucky… his hands are probably around your shoulders , pulling you into his chest — you two are like rabbits in heat ! you’re both just trying to melt into each other the whole time… it’s sort of cute how hot and breathless you both are (y’all are making out which doesn’t help his breathing problem) !

anton

he’s a boobie-sucker ! i’m not here to argue , i just know these things… he’s so sweet , trying to guide your hips down but he loses it midway… he’s bucking up into you… it’s really just one big mess the way you two are drooling and squirming. he too , will bury his head in the crook of your neck and he might accidentally mark you… he’ll feel really bad after , but you’ll assure him it’s fine ! anyways , anton’s long , slender , and slightly curved (i know these things , feel them in my soul) so each time you plop back down , his tip kisses the spongey silk of your g-spot and he feels like he might melt !

guidelines and disclaimers | considering hiatus ! I’ll have a verdict soon , thanks for the support 🫶🏽

#lil-ma-shae #riize smut #shotaro smut #eunseok smut #sungchan smut #wonbin smut #seunghan smut #sohee smut #anton smut

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY THREE

in which you never make it past the stairs.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, single use of 'Y/N', upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 5.4k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

23:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

“Be honest with me, Eddie. Do you like her?” 

Eddie feels pathetic when all he can do is hum in response to Nancy’s voice over the line, mind moving in slow motion as looks down at you. You’re here, in his apartment and curled up on his couch. You’re here, and you’re his for twenty four hours, if he can just stop fucking it all up. 

He should have known the hum wouldn’t satisfy his best friend.

“No. I want a real answer,” she scolds, and he can imagine her frustrated scowl she wears as he gives her nothing. But he just feels defeated – he’s at a loss for words right now, “Don’t over think it – do you really like her?”

No. No, I do not just like her. I fucking love her. And I really shouldn’t, but I do, and I can’t change that. 

“I… I think I do.” 

“I just said to not think about it. It’s a yes or no question, Munson. Don’t… Fine, don’t be honest with me. Be honest with yourself. So I’m going to ask you one last time, and I recommend you don’t think about it, because every time you do, it seems like all you do is push her further away. Do you, Edward Munson, like Y/N?” 

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

More than Nancy could understand. More than even he understands. He likes you, more than just in the sense of what Nancy was referring to. He likes you as a person. He likes the way you challenge him, that you won’t take his shit. He likes the way you keep up with him even if you are motivated by a fire of hatred he’d built with his own two hands. He likes the way you clearly care about people, evident with how you treat everyone else. He likes the way you never cease to surprise him. He just… likes everything about you. Every single part of you he has been gifted with witnessing even when he’s undeserving, he fucking adores.

He never stood a chance. From the moment he first met you in that bar, it was always going to end this way for Eddie. All you had to do was lay your eyes on him, and his fate was sealed.

So, yeah. Eddie Munson likes you. Eddie Munson loves you. 

—

HOUR TWENTY THREE - 3:00 PM

You don’t even make it outside the apartment building.

You make it down the hallway, sniffling the entire way and ignoring the curious glances from the neighbor that walks past you. Clearly, the entire building must have heard your fight with Eddie. They probably even heard the debauchery you two had taken part in on his balcony beforehand. 

They probably think you’re insane. You don’t really care. 

Once you enter the stairwell, it all becomes a bit too much. Your head is spinning as you take a few of the steps before you give up, dropping down to sit on one and succumbing to the dizzying feeling with your head between your knees. It’s a lot – Eddie has given you a plethora of information, too much to be able to stomach all in one go but necessary to offer you all at once. 

He always loved you. He’d felt it too, that first night. All your blooms and all your vines hadn’t been what gave you away, but instead his own garden that had begun. And instead of tending to it as you had been prepared to with your own, he’d gone and drowned it. He’d taken away any glimpse of sunshine and cut off all nutrients, tried to starve the thing inside of him away and burn it with unnecessary hatred. 

It was all so unnecessary. So, so unnecessary. 

The girl you once were isn’t something of the past. You were foolish to believe there was any separation – between who you were the first night and now, between who Eddie was that night and who he was as you left him behind. You’re both still the same people, still in the same position. 

You never stopped looking for Eddie in every room you entered. You never stopped biting your tongue at the thought of starting a conversation with him, never stopped aching to reach out for him even as he filled the ocean between you two. Every single date you’d gone on after meeting him had been a flurry of excuses. 

No, not excuses. Comparisons.

Every single person that had shown you interest in the last year had been subjected to a side by side comparison to the man you couldn’t have. To the man you thought you’d held in the palms of your hands for a night, only to have it all taken away so suddenly. None of them drank whiskey and coke. None of them wore rings on their knuckles that they would fidget with when nervous. None of them reacted when you’d stumble beside them, none of them ever offered to foot the bills of the dates they took you on. And every time you noticed these insignificant details, you’d only think of moments with a certain long-haired metalhead. 

You’d spent a year convincing yourself that there was only bad. Spent a year ignoring that nagging in the back of your head, when Eddie had been the worst fucking actor you’d ever met. He was right – his affection had seeped out time and time again, had reached out and wrapped around you like a warm blanket. Most of the time, it was your irritation that led to any arguments turning into true fights. 

You weren’t innocent in this. The blame is shared. You’d both been victims, time and time again, of absolute self-destruction. 

When your phone rings, you indulge yourself in the hope that it’s Eddie. 

It’s Steve.

“Hello-”

“What the fuck happened?” Steve cuts right to the chase, ignoring your greeting, “What the fuck does Eddie mean the bet is off?”

He’d called Steve. Obviously.

“It means the bet is off,” you feel a fresh wave of tears choke you up, “We didn’t last the full twenty four hours. We lost.”

Steve’s scoff echoes over the line, “You’re telling me that with not even two hours to spare, the two of you now find it to be a bit much? It’s been twenty two hours, nearly twenty three, what harm is there in a few mo-”

“A lot of harm, actually,” you cut him off this time, in no mood to be scolded like a child. None of them knew what had happened. None of them knew how everything had changed so drastically between you and Eddie, “I- I called it off. It was me. I’ll come up with the money for you guys, just give me a few weeks.” 

Do they know about Eddie’s feelings? Had you been the only one so oblivious to being caught up in a lie?

“Hold on, hold on,” Steve tries to soothe you, but it does nothing. When a sob escapes you, the dam finally breaking through, he grows even more panicked, “What the actual fuck happened?”

You don’t answer the question. “Can you come pick me up?” 

“I- Excuse me?”

“I need a ride,” you gasp out, swiping rapidly at your face to hide the evidence of your breakdown as you can hear someone walking up the stairs, “Can you- Christ, Harrington, can you just come pick me up?” 

More neighbors. More nosey glances. Fuck them. 

“No.” 

You almost think you heard Steve wrong. “What?”

“No, I will not be coming to pick you up.” 

“Why?” 

Your chest is aching with every sob you withhold. Trying to cling to composure, trying to cling to the fact that the worst was over. The wound could heal. The wound had to heal. 

“Tell me what happened,” Steve demands, “Tell me what the fuck has happened over the last twenty something hours, and I’ll come pick you up. But if you don’t tell me, I’m tossing my fucking keys in the canal and you can be  stuck with him for the rest of your life for all I care.” 

And therein lies the issue. You don’t want to tell him. Suddenly, you’re something animalistic, the memories of the last twenty three hours becoming something of such substance to you that you wouldn’t dare to part with them. You want to hold each moment, each stepping stone along this rocky path, close to your chest and swipe out at anyone who gets too close. You need to cradle them with care and dissect each one for your own sanity, picking apart all the times you were too blind to see the truth. 

You make your decision. The animal inside of you, hiding amongst vines of affection and blooms of hope, decides. “I can’t.” 

“You can’t, or you won’t?” 

You both know the clear distinction, and you can’t be bothered to care as your breathing finally evens, the sobs settling themselves down.

“I won’t.” 

It’s quiet for a while until you hear Steve finally laugh in disbelief. A sharp breath out at first, that grows more into a chuckle that you know pairs with him shaking his head.

“Jesus,” he whispers, “I… okay. I get it. I don’t know what the Hell went down, and I won’t force you to give me a play by play,” he pauses, and you can hear the but before he even says it. It stretches over that pregnant pause, silence only broken up by static from the phone line until he speaks again, “But you’ve got to give me something to work with here. Eddie randomly texts me that the bet is off and to tell the others, and then I call you just for you to start sobbing-“

“He only texted you?” you interrupt the plea, brows furrowing, “He just… He texted you and no one else? Did he call Nancy?” 

“What? No. I’m the only one who’s heard anything from him.” 

You stare at the wall across from you, gaze digging right into one of the cracks filled with dust.

Fuck it.

“He told me he loves me, Steve,” you begin to open up, prying that memory from the claws of the animal. It doesn’t go down without a fight, screeching as you say the words, protesting offering even the smallest of breadcrumbs to your friend. You don’t have to tell Steve everything — but you can tell him this. “He said he never really hated me, and that he loves me.” 

There’s nothing for Steve to say. You don’t know if it’s because they all really did know, saw what you couldn’t, or maybe if Eddie had already admitted this to the others. But in his honesty, he’d only mentioned Nancy knowing. And you’d seen the twist of his lips, the pinch of his eyes during that recount; you doubt anyone else knows. 

He’d been prepared to take this secret to the grave. To keep it, even from you.

“I liked him,” you admit in that quiet stairwell, almost forgetting Steve was on the other end of the line, “God, I- I just liked him so much that first night. I wanted to waste all my time getting to know him. I know you all saw it after he went cold.” 

How I searched for him in every room. How I’d always ask if he would be at functions. How I’d gravitate straight to him on the rare occasions he was there. 

You continue on, your animal within finally stopping its petulant protests. It seems to understand; there’s a balance to be found. Admitting this doesn’t mean losing Eddie. It could mean more, “Even when he started being a fucking asshole, I wanted him. I always thought I’d just get him out of my system one of these days, but I didn’t. Not even after tonight. I… I like him.” 

It’s not love. Not quite what Eddie had felt, because his plan had worked to some extent. You’d been held at an arm's length for so long, the like never had the chance to grow into love. 

“So go get him.” 

It’s the last thing you expected from Steve. “What?” 

“You like him. Present tense,” he parrots your words back to you with emphasis, “So go get him. You said he loves you, kid. And sure, there’s a lot to work through there, but the bet isn’t off yet. Texts can be deleted. I can take a few hours to come get you. Just…” you listen to his deep breath over the phone, letting his words settle within you, “What’s the worst that can happen? You guys hate each other? I think we’re a little past that now.” 

“Yeah,” you find yourself laughing, only half amused, “We are kind of past that.” 

What is the worst that can happen? 

“At the very least, tell him how you feel,” Steve continues on in such a calming tone, your chest clenches, “Because I’m sensing that you haven’t. Or else you wouldn’t be sitting on the phone crying to me, and Munson wouldn’t be impulsively texting me.” 

“It wasn’t that impulsive,” you hum, leaning your cheek against the cool railing beside you, still mulling over your options. Really, option. Singular. “I made it very clear that it was over.” 

Steve lets out a groan, and you smile despite yourself, “You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.” 

“I kind of did.” 

“Then go fix it!” Steve’s exclamation makes you lift your head again, “He’s an asshole, okay? We can agree on that. He’s fucking dumb, and he’s an asshole, and he definitely isn’t some dreamboat in my opinion-“

“You know, I have a bone to pick with you there,” you’re already standing up, heading inclined towards the door you had just burst through, feet heavy as you try to dig within yourself for just a little bit of bravery, “Why the fuck would you say what you did that night? When I met him. You told him I’d never go for him.” 

“I didn’t think you would. I mean, you didn’t jump my bones when you met me, and I am a goddamn dream boat.” 

“Steve Harrington,” you take the first step, suddenly determined, “You’re a fucking idiot. I kind of hate you right now.” 

“More than you hate Eddie?” 

“So much more.” 

“Then go tell him that,”  Steve instructs as you take a few more steps, back up on the platform for Eddie’s floor already, “Make me the bad guy, I don’t care. Tell him he even gets a free punch.”

“I get a free punch first,” your free hand reaches out to grab the door, gripping but not pulling. Not yet, “We’ll see if you’re still such a dreamboat with a broken nose.” 

It’s all teasing, but Steve can tell your anger beneath it all is very real. It isn’t something all consuming or dangerous, but it is well deserved for what he’d put you and Eddie through. All with one little throwaway comment. 

“I deserve that,” he affirms, “I really, really deserve that. Scout’s honor that you’ll get your punch when I pick you up in… say, an hour?” 

You nod, and start to pull on the door, “See you in an hour, Harrington.” 

You hang up before he can say another word. There’ll be time for more scolding later, for more genuine conversation at the hand everyone had in all that went wrong. But for now, you only have one boy on your mind. 

And apparently, he’s in love with you. Has been for a long time.

You race down that hallway faster than you had when you’d left, determination throwing you forward with each step as you grow closer to apartment 2C. You raise your fist when you come face to face with Eddie’s front door, still terribly insistent and strangely brave, when suddenly — it opens up.

“I-“ you squeak out, fist still frozen and poised in the air. 

Eddie has never looked more frazzled. He’d been clearly running his hands through his curls, frizzing them up nearly comically. His eyes are red from tears, and if you look close enough, you can see an indent in his bottom lip from his teeth digging in.

Your eyes meet his, and all he can do is sigh your name. 

You take a few steps back, and he follows. You tell yourself you need the distance, because without it, you might throw caution to the wind and just kiss him again. That’s not what you came here to do – before you can ever kiss him again, before you can put not only yourself but him through that, you need to tell him. 

Your heart is ready to burst out of your chest, and you repeat Steve’s words over and over in your mind.

So go get him.

What’s the worst that can happen?

“I thought you were leaving.” 

His voice is a broken whisper, gravely from the tears he’s no doubt been succumbing to since your exit. You search his face for any sign that he might still be far away from you, still in his head, but all you can see is that he’s here. 

He’s here, with you, in this moment. 

“I never made it down the stairs,” your voice cracks terribly, croaky and shaking until you clear your throat, “I- Steve called me.” 

“I texted him. To let him know the bet is off.” 

“I know.” 

It’s awkward, but without ice. It’d be impossible not to be, even when every glance into his eyes just fills you with warmth.

There will be time to be angry later. With Steve, and with Eddie. One day, you’ll spare the time to mull over the way he continued to treat you even after his own personal revelation of how he loved you. You should pay more attention to it now, but every time your mind tries to go there, it just becomes overcast with what’s happened on this night. 

You can’t erase the past. Good or bad. Both exist, and both fuel you as you take one more step back and support yourself against the wall across from his door, just as you had when you’d first arrived twenty three hours before. 

Eddie takes several deep breaths before he follows you. You don’t have to say a word out loud; he’s completely in tune with you as he leaves his front door wide open and walks to stand beside you. Only then, when you’re both on the same side of the hallway, do you both slide down to sit on the floor. 

“We need to talk,” you sigh, watching the way your knee knocks into his. Gentle brushes, soft touches. There’s no room for any thorns here. Your vines have wrapped their way around not just you, but him as well, and there’s far too many flowers thriving along them to even think of such dangerous pricks to linger, “I know what I said. I know that I left. But…” But I can’t stay gone. I can’t let it end like this. I can’t do it, not like this. “I never made it past the stairs.” 

His shoulder bumps yours, forces you to look at him as he offers a sad smile. He can tell you're nervous, can tell that you’re the one who’s slipping away into their mind now. 

“Hey,” he says softly, “It’s just you and me. Just two people who hate each other’s guts, remember?” 

“Except we never did,” you remind him, finally looking down to pick at the frays of your jeans, “We never hated each other’s guts. And that’s… the issue? Maybe not issue. It’s not a problem to be solved. But, you were honest with me, and I think I need to be honest back.” 

I need to say more than just no.

“I like you, Eddie,” you finally spit out, craving relief from the admission. But it won’t come, not quite yet. Not until he hears your full truth, “I liked you from that very first night. I just- when I was in this room full of people I didn’t know, not well enough at least, you took one look at me and decided that you’d sit by my side. You’d be my friend. I don’t care how the night ended and I don’t care that you went back on your gut reaction,” you take a sharp breath, and finally relief finds you as you whisper, “You chose me. That very first night, you chose me. And I want to figure out how to get back to that, not pretending to hate each other.” 

You hold no expectations for how Eddie will react, especially given that your confession was seemingly less monumental than his, but his hand coming down on your knee surprises you all the same. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and you believe it. There’s no hesitation in your belief this time. It goes without saying that you know he’ll probably spend the rest of his life sorry, trying to make up for the last year. 

You decide to put your hand over his, let your palm press into those knuckles before you move to slip your fingers between his, “I don’t want things to go back to normal. I just want us to be able to start over.” 

You catch his smile out the corner of your eye, “Yeah? That’d be pretty nice. Maybe this time I won’t be such a dick.” 

“And maybe this time I won’t throw a glass at your head,” you add, leaning into him a little, feeling his grip on your knee tighten with affection.

He shakes his head briefly before throwing it back against the wall, “I deserved that. When I deserve it, you are always welcome to throw a glass at my head.” 

“That’s an expensive way to deal with things.” 

“We’ll get the glasses from Goodwill.” 

Both of you are softly laughing when your head meets his shoulder. You should probably be talking more properly, but you don’t. You decide to just enjoy this time with him. You have an hour left.

When the door to the right of Eddie’s opens up, you both straighten up a bit, and you watch in real time as the embarrassed blush lights up across Eddie’s cheeks at the sight of his neighbor — Mr. Jenkins.

He pauses, and God you wish he hadn’t, because now your insides are turning with your own self-consciousness. He takes in the sight of you two, sitting out in the apartment building hallway, hands entertained and heads leaning on one another, and then he chuckles.

“Good. Glad you two kids figured it out. Now please, for the love of God, keep those activities private. Indoors. No more balconies.” 

Eddie has burned past pink, now a brilliant red. You’re surprised when a soft giggle escapes you, the ridiculousness of everything that has happened finally hitting you. Eddie turns his head to look at you with wild eyes, a silent scream of traitor before he faces the elderly man again.

He clears his throat, “Right. Uh, of course. Sorry, Mr. Jenkins.”

He grumbles a bit as he turns away from you two, still smiling as you can hear the faint “Yeah, yeah,” of his words.

The moment you two are alone again, you can’t help it — you burst into laughter.

Genuine and much needed laughter fills your lungs, expanding them beyond capacity as you finally let yourself just let go of the night. All the fights, all the stress, all the misunderstandings, and all the honesty seem to melt like butter from you, the tension leaving your soldiers for the first time in what feels like hours. You like him, you like him, you like him. No matter what happens after this, you like him. Just as you had that first night. Nothing can really take that from you; all the miniscule details can be worked out later. Any arguments and any fights that need to be had can be handled tomorrow. For today, you like Eddie Munson, and that’s enough.

“It’s not funny!” 

“Oh, it’s fucking hilarious,” you gasp out as Eddie gently slaps your shoulder, “That poor old man fully saw your dick.” 

“I’ll never be able to face him again,” Eddie deadpans. You don’t catch his adoring smile as you only laugh harder, “I’ll never be able to know peace in these halls again.”

You quiet down your giggles, taking your hand from his to swipe at the tears of joy that had gathered. Your stomach aches in the best way, finally, “Should’ve kept it in your pants, Munson.” 

“Says the minx.” 

It’s nice. Just as you had thought — there would be a time to laugh about it. And now, as your temple falls back against Eddie’s t-shirt and he snakes an arm around your back, is the best moment you can think of. 

The two of you let silence settle again. All you can hear is the other’s breathing, deep and calm and assured breaths that don’t whisper of any secrets or any panic. It’s peaceful; it’s absolute bliss. 

“God, I need a nap,” Eddie mumbles as he trails a finger in an insistent circle over your shoulder. Gentle and feathery light, repetitive enough to almost lull you to sleep, “How do other people do this shit?”

“I don’t know, but a nap sounds heavenly,” you nearly moan. You can picture it now, wrapping up in your usually mediocre comforter back in your dorm room, and your uncomfortable mattress has never been more romanticized.

Eddie stares at his open door for a second, thinking, “Is, uh, Harrington coming to get you?” 

You only nod against his shoulder.

“Did he tell the others that the bet is- or was- or-“

“No,” you laugh as he fumbles over the specifics, “He never told the others. As far as they know… We made it.” 

Eddie sighs in relief, “Oh, thank God. I did not want to have to pay any of those fuckers.” 

“They never would have let us live that down.” 

“Never.”

Another lapse of silence. There’s times where you think Eddie might get up, might hold out his hand for you to take and drag you into his apartment again. Maybe try and let you two squeeze one last nap in, considering the way you’re already half unconscious on his shoulder. But he never does. The two of you sit in the comforting silence of that hallway, backs pressed to the wall and bodies leaning into each other’s gravitational pull. 

Getting him was never really about having another hard conversation. Just making sure he knew that his feelings were returned, to remind him of the change that had happened within you over these last twenty three hours, was plenty enough for you. 

“Hey,” Eddie whispers. Neither of you have a clock, but you can both feel the time running out, “I, uh, want to say one last thing before this is all… over.” 

“What’s up?” you mumble into the material of his t-shirt. The one that your nose nearly turns and buries into, trying to enjoy that last bit of boy that has lingered after him since the beginning of the night. 

“I need you to know I didn’t tell you everything just for this to happen,” he begins to explain, “Like, I never loved you with the intent of being loved. I actually love you without ever expecting you to reciprocate, whether it’s embarrassingly admitting you have a crush on me-” one of your hands limply comes up to hit at his chest in a pathetic lack of strength, which makes him pause to chuckle, “-or if you came back here and said that you were… like, wildly in love with me. Or you could have even said you never really want to see me again. That was never the point.”

“What if I came back just to say I forgot something? Like, ‘oh, hey, I just forgot my chapstick’?” you’re nearly slurring your words in fatigue, but still smile at the thought of doing that just to fuck with him. 

“I’d probably lie and say that there’s not a single tube of chapstick in that apartment,” he admits, his palm now just cupping your shoulder, drinking in the privilege of touching and holding you this way as he gives it a squeeze, “And then I would have shut the door, and started searching like a mad man for that fucking chapstick, and never would have told you once I found it.” 

You snort, “Keeping my chapstick? Pervert.” 

You shift your head to just barely peer up at him, and you see those fucking dimples. You can’t believe there was a time where you didn’t notice those. 

“I’m serious, though,” he lets his smile falter just a bit, but those innocent indents don’t, “You could still say the word, tell me you don’t mean it and you don’t even like me in the slightest, and it’d be fine. No hard feelings, truly.” 

He’d just succumb to the terrible fight he’d been running from this entire time. From the moment he had met you. He’d succumb to his worst fear and let himself burn for you, even if you didn’t burn with him. 

“Eddie.”

“Hm?”

“Stop being such a fucking idiot,” you chastize as you lift your head from his should. His arm remains around you, not even slipping, “Stop trying to talk me out of liking you. It’s done – I like you. End of story.” 

His smile turns into something sad for a second, something almost sour, before it really does fall completely. Only the ghosts of those dimples remain for a moment in your memory. Suddenly, you get what he means. He isn’t trying to deter you, only remind you of what you need to consider.

It’s not just another moment of insecurity. 

You probably should be putting up more of a fight. All the damage done, both tonight and in the last year, can’t really be erased in the matter of an hour. It’s a whisper of it’s okay to take time to heal, a true white flag of surrender being waved from across his ocean. 

Vines, oceans, fires, glass walls – all of the metaphors have finally turned trivial. 

“I might need time,” you give in just a little bit, knowing it’s for the best, “I… I mean, everything can’t really change so quickly. Maybe we give it a few days. A few weeks, if we have to. We…” 

“Just spent twenty four hours together, and could use the time apart?” he ends your sentence for you in a joking tone, but you both know it’s true. 

The time apart would not only do you well, but answer the burning question on both your minds – does this last past tonight? 

Right now, you’re sure it does. But it’s possible you’ll return to your dorm room, that Eddie will spend some time in his apartment without you hovering around every corner, and that it could change. That is entirely possible. 

It’s something you almost need to mentally prepare yourself for. 

“Yeah,” you rasp out, almost choked back up at the reality of it all. You blame it on the lack of sleep, “Yeah, we could probably use some time apart.” 

Saying it out loud goes against every gut instinct you have. 

“Yep,” Eddie almost seems to also be gritting those words out, tongue almost more stubborn than yours, “Time apart. Just to think. Not… uh, not forever. Not unless we decide it needs to be.” 

You sound like you just broke up with the poor dude without ever even dating.

How many couples have had this exact conversation? How many have promised temporary time apart, only to never see each other again? 

It strikes a little bit of childish fear in you, but Eddie’s arm is still warm and heavy around your back, his palm rubbing up and down along your bicep as if he can sense all that doubt that you battle with. 

It’s okay. Leaving for now is not leaving forever. Besides, you once lived a life without Eddie Munson in it. You can live that once more, if needed.

You like him. You liked him that first night, and you like him now. You like to enter rooms and know his eyes seek you out, you like to know that every time he crosses your mind that there’s a possibility that you’re also plaguing his thoughts. Time, distance, and hatred have never been able to change that.

“I-” you start to say, more vulnerability metallic on your tongue and more honesty poised for his taking, when you’re both cut off by a familiar figure coming down the hallway. 

It’s not a neighbor, not another set of judgmental eyes. 

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #if it's bad don't tell me wah

[captainfern]

HI CAP!!! I’m the anon who requested breeding & overstim like a week ago AND IT WAS SO GOOD OML TY.

Anyways I know requests are closed but I hope you see this when they’re open 😭

HEAR ME OUT: Breeding kink, overstim, praise, slight restraint (yknow strong dad bod Price 🤭), and AGAINST THE WALL.

Thank you cap~ Love you!

sorry this is so late :(

anyway here’s some p0rn lmao

18+, fem!reader

price had you pinned against the wall of your bedroom, your legs parted as the large front of him pressed up against you. his broad chest and the warm curve of his stomach kept you motionless against the wall, rendering you immovable.

he held both of your wrists in one hand, holding them above you and pinning them to the wall as his other hand took hold of your hip, angling you into place so he could continue fucking up into you.

you were shaking beneath him, sweating with trembling legs as your husband fucked you, splitting you open on his cock. you could hardly moan anymore, releasing small whimpers of his name as each thrust knocked up against the plug of your womb.

he groaned above you, animalistic and claiming, marvelling at the way your cunt sucked in his cock, taking him so well. after three orgasms, your entire body was alight with overstimulation, but still reacting to his touch. it made pride surge within him, mixed with the feeling of possession. you were his.

his cock stretched you open, your previous orgasms dripping out of you with each thrust, running down the inner fat of your thighs. price’s dick and front of his pelvis was also slick with your releases (which he always loved). the sounds were wet, sounding around your shared room and making your head spin.

“mmm, so good, baby—” price grunted, cutting himself off with a groan as the silken walls of your cunt clenched around him. “being such a good— yeah, that’s it— good girl for me, aren’t you?”

you nodded deliriously, your entire body wracked with pleasure. you almost felt dizzy when your fourth consecutive orgasm began to build like static in your lower tummy.

“‘course you are, ‘course you are…” price muttered, slamming into you and keeping you restrained against the wall. his stomach pressed to yours, his chest against your bare breasts. the feeling of you both rubbing together was driving him insane. he groaned your name, followed by a string of curses. “fuck, my good girl. my best girl. always so good for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? always so good for your captain.”

you tossed your head back against the wall and moaned, his words going straight to your pussy. you felt yourself flutter around the thick girth of his cock, forcing a strained grunt from his lips before he leaned down to attach his mouth to the side of your neck.

price sucked kisses there, continuing still to grind himself against you. you could feel his warmth, the hair spanning his chest and stomach, and his facial hair scratching lightly at the link of your shoulder. you moaned at all the added stimulus, your trembling body beginning to seize up as your release approached.

“john—” you moaned, hands struggling and flexing in his hold. but he didn’t budge.

he held you against the wall while he fucked you, grunting into the curve of your neck as the tip of his cock continued to bully up against your cervix, drawing whimpers and whines from your mouth.

“that’s it, let me hear those pretty noises,” he muttered against you, licking over your hot skin. “let your captain hear you.”

you did. you moaned and whimpered outwardly for him. for your husband, your captain. you moaned with each upward thrust of his cock into the slick heat of your pussy, body shaking beneath him as finally your orgasm neared it’s crest for what felt like the millionth time.

“captain.” you whimpered, and price moaned in response, continuing his pace and keeping his thrusts consistent as he brought you to the edge, your vision blurring in the corners.

“that’s it… that’s my girl. been so good for me, baby. you can come,” he praised, and then urged gently towards the end. “you can come. come all over my cock one more time for me. one more time like my good girl.”

you shattered beneath him— coming around his cock again, losing yourself in the feeling of him. your entire body shook, muscles stiffening as you arched off the wall, pressing ever closer to him as your orgasm consumed you.

you had to stop yourself from squealing as your release gushed out of you— liquid warmth splattering out from around his cock, dripping down your trembling thighs. the thrusting sounds grew wetter, and price’s cock twitched inside you, still battering the entrance to your cervix.

he groaned. “fuck, fuck— that’s it, that’s it— my good girl, just— fuck— just like that. let me come inside you… let me come inside this perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

you mewled, practically going limp against him.

“s’alright, baby, i’ve got you. i’ve got you. just let me fill you up, okay? let me get you nice and fat with my baby…” he trailed off, interrupted by a string of grunting huffs. “yeah— yeah let me fill you up. let me breed this tight little pussy and make her mine.”

price came with a guttural moan of your name, still talking against your neck, the vibrations making you keen.

he stood true to his word, pumping you full of him. he was so deep that you could feel the warmth of his release spreading inside you, and he slowly softened as he pumped himself dry.

“shit…” he whispered, pulling out of you and dropping your arms. the mix of your releases dropped down your thighs in thick droplets, and the sudden loss of his cock made you whine.

“it’s okay, it’s okay, i’m here.” price cooed, guiding you slowly over to the bed and laying you down. he lay down next to you, before you felt his fingers brush up against your core. he slowly stuffed two fingers inside you, but not before dragging them up your thighs to collect his seed that had spilled out.

price held you against him with his other arm, kissing you gently over the top of your head and across your face, all the while keeping you plugged with his thick fingers.

“did such a good job, sweetheart,” he told you. “i love you.”

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #captain john price #captain john price smut #price call of duty #price smut #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod smut

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ rafe gets jealous

warnings: a tiny bit of smut, swearing, dom!rafe, mean!rafe, shitty writing.

summary: rafe gets jealous when you talk to jj at a party. innocent!reader x rafe

the loud thumping music invaded her ears as she made her way around the large house. she had arrived with her boyfriend but thirty minutes in and he was nowhere to be seen. these parties weren’t her kind of thing, but of course she’d go just to make rafe happy. she’d do anything to make rafe happy.

her eyes skimmed the crowd, not being able to see much over the sea of people. it probably didn’t help that all these people seemed to be absolute giants. moving from the living room, she found a corner in the hallway to try and situate herself.

y/n wasn’t good with crowds, and she certainly wasn’t used to them. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who were utterly confused about the relationship between rafe and y/n. he was all about parties, drugs and alcohol while she preferred last night walks, staying in and watching films. it took some convincing from rafe to get y/n to go, but after seeing how happy it would make him, it was an easy decision.

watching so many people pass by her over and over made her dizzy. she didn’t know who’s house this was, she didn’t know who was here. before she knew it, panic set in and her eyes glazed over. y/n’s chest heaved as she tried her best to shrink into the corner.

a familiar voice broke her free of the hundreds of thoughts crossing her mind at such an insane speed. “hey y/n! didn’t think this was your scene?”

turning her head, her eyes met with an old friends, provoking a relieved grin to cross her face. “jj! thank god, have you seen rafe?” jj’s face contorted at the thought of y/n’s boyfriend. there was a very hostile history between the two, one y/n chose to ignore, not wanting to pick sides. “nah, you can come sit with us if you want?” jj offered sweetly, very aware of y/n’s anxiousness.

being childhood bestfriends with someone, you become used to their personality and mannerisms. just like jj had always done, he’d helped her out of another nerve-wracking situation.

nodding her head eagerly, she followed him through the house, all the way to the back garden. out there she recognised a few faces, john b, pope, kiara and sarah. as they noticed the girl following behind jj, they gave her warm smiles, especially sarah.

“rafe wander off again?” she half-joked, of course she knew what her brother was like, but didn’t appreciate his ability to forget to keep an eye on y/n. she nodded in response, a somewhat embarrassed laugh escaping her.

“why don’t you sit with us until he shows up?” jj suggested. “thank you guys, i don’t even know why i’m here to be honest.” y/n sat down on the deckchair next to her friend, pulling her short dress down as she did.

after some time, they had all fallen into conversation with one another.

“hey y/n do you remember when we-” jj started but was quickly cut off by the shadow of someone stood behind them. y/n and the pogues glanced up in sync, y/n’s eyes widening in delight as she scanned the familiar face.

“rafe! i couldn’t find you!” she beamed, happy to be in his company once again. “so you come sit out here with these pogues?” rafe grumbled, venom in his tone.

“hey! if you hadn’t left her all alone in there, jj never would’ve brought her out here!” sarah retorted, growing annoyed with her brothers attitude. rolling his eyes, rafe huffed and reached for y/n’s arm, wrapping a strong hand around her wrist.

“um, bye guys, it was nice to see you all!” y/n shouted over her shoulder as rafe dragged her away from the group.

rafe continued to pull her through the house until the pair reached his car. “get in.” he spat. bowing her head, she obliged, not wanting to anger him further. sitting down in the passenger side, she buckled her seatbelt quietly.

y/n eyed rafe as they drove in silence, his knuckles were white against the steering wheel as he seethed. deciding to speak up “please don’t be mad rafe, i was lost and jj was just trying to help” she mumbled, wary of his response. “jj this, jj that! do you have a thing for him or something?” rafe yelled, jaw clenching.

“what? no of course not! he’s just my friend rafe! i only want you!” she pleaded, trying to break his delusions. glancing at her slightly, rafe slammed the breaks on, pulling over on a dark road. “prove it.”

y/n’s face fell into a confused frowned, not quite understanding. rafe reached over to unbuckle her seatbelt before removing his own and leaving the car. y/n sat there in silence, baffled.

she jumped in her seat as rafe ripped her door open. reaching for her again, he pulled her out of the car before pinning her against it.

she felt his hot breath on his face as she met his volatile gaze, chest heaving. “i said prove it y/n” rafe snarled as he continued to tower above her. looking up at him, brows furrowed “i don’t understand rafe?”

“get on your fucking knees, and prove it” he spat, wrapping a hand around her throat before lowering her to the ground.

it was like a lightbulb went off in her head, finally understand what he wanted. she reached for his belt buckle, carefully undoing it. rafe’s hands gathered y/n’s hair into a ponytail while she pulled his jeans and boxers down, freeing his hard on.

before he could even blink, she wrapped her lips around the tip of his length, looking at him for approval as she did.

“that’s a good girl”

#dom!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe imagine #obx #outer banks

[kittyball23]

When you have time could you do a one shot of poppy fan girling over the fact that her bf is in two famous boy bands? I wish the movie gave a little more of it focused on him because the adoration is so cute to me.

Yes, here it is! :D

Surprise (a Trolls fanfic)

“Hey, Branch? It’s almost showtime, I was just thinking that maybe we could…”

The Pop Queen cut off her own question with an enormous gasp.

“WHHHHHAAAAAAT?!?!”

It was simply impossible for her to believe the sight in front of her. Granted, she knew some of what she would find when she ventured backstage to find her boyfriend. She knew of his brothers, and of how they were the sensational boyband known as BroZone. But what she did not at all anticipate were the four other Trolls who made up the other insanely popular boyband that there had been back in the day. 

And, recalling that that band had had five members - and seeing that her boyfriend was costumed to the same chic style they were wearing at that moment - it suddenly all made sense in a whirlwind of revelation.

“Kismet?” she exclaimed in a squeak, pointing a shaky hand at Branch. “You were in BroZone AND Kismet? And you… didn’t… tell me?!” She shot her gaze at the brothers. “Guys, did you know about this?”

They hurriedly denied.

“I’m just as surprised as you are, Pops,” John Dory admitted.

“Not a clue,” Bruce answered.

“Nope,” Clay said, putting his hands up and taking a couple steps back, while Floyd replied with a mystified “Uh-uh,” and a small shake of his head.

At this point, Poppy wasn’t even sure how she was still able to keep standing there - she was trembling so much from the excitement building up inside of her, she was just about ready to collapse!

Branch himself shrugged, keeping collected. “Surprise,” he chuckled.

Poppy couldn’t help herself anymore. Forgetting about everything but being filled with happiness - and not being able to coherently form any other sentences - she rushed forward and threw her arms around Branch’s neck, screaming in delight. Then, she rushed to hug each of his friends, taking Hype, Ablaze, Boom, and Trickee off guard with her uncontained enthusiasm and bone-crushing embrace. And then still, she leapt over towards JD, Bruce, Clay, and Floyd, hugging them for good measure, too!

Hype shook his blue head with a smirk. "Well, that's some girl you got there, Branch!" he exclaimed.

"And this is some sneaky secret-keeping boyband-extraordinaire boyfriend I've got!!" Poppy shouted, finding her voice again and nearly dizzying all nine men with all her jumping up-and-down on the spot. And now that she was speaking again, she couldn’t seem to stop! The words tumbled out of her a hundred miles a minute.

“This is incredible! I really really REALLY can’t believe this! I’m so excited I could SCREAM! I think I will scream! AAAIIYYIII!!! Okay, okay, I’m done now. No, just kidding, I’m actually not. AHGHGH! I’m not gonna be over this for, like, a SUPER long time! I, like, REALLY need all of your autographs, too. Ooo! And a picture! Well, more like a dozen pictures with you guys. And then I’m gonna need copies! And then copies of the copies!! And… and… would it be weird if I fainted right now? Because I totally feel like I’m gonna faint right now, hehe!”

And she did. Expended, she keeled over with that ear-to-ear smile still plastered on her face. Branch caught her right before she fell to the ground, and carried her in his arms.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said to his friends and brothers, smirking at the Pop Queen. “I’m gonna get her situated in the front row. Then we can get this show rolling, alright?”

And that’s just what he did, leaving Kismet and BroZone to themselves.

Both boybands looked at each other awkwardly, not sure what to say to each other. At least, until Floyd broke the ice, smiling politely.

“So… how did you guys meet Branch?”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #kismet #nsync #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #thanks for the ask! #kittyball answers #100+

[mrkis]

addicted to you. (l.dh)

PAIRING: haechan x reader GENRE: smut WORD COUNT: 1k

SYNOPSIS: haechan is addicted to tasting you and fucking you.

CONTENT WARNINGS: explicit content, pwp mainly, oral (f receiving), dom!haechan, mean-ish!haechan, unprotected sex, light choking (haechan rests his hand on your neck), slight pussy slapping, dirty talk,

“That’s it…” Haechan moans in between your legs, fingers digging into the flesh on your thighs that rest upon his shoulders as his tongue wiggles between your folds, slurping hungrily at your pussy that drips with cum. “Pretty thing, cum for me again. Good girl”

You’re shaking, wailing as you cum for the third time on his tongue, your hand locked on the back of his head with your fingers threading through his dark, thick hair. He laughs against your pussy, the vibrations causing you to arch your back and pull at his hair to try and tug him away but it’s no use when he’s got you caged.

The room spins and you pant heavily, blinking to regain your vision as he mouths at your pussy again, tongue flicking miniature circles around your clit and you’re mindlessly pleading for him to stop, to let you breathe and catch a break.

“You want me to stop? Hm?” He questions you teasingly, pushing himself up to rest on his knees and your legs flop motionlessly on the bed from his shoulders. Haechan crawls above you, trailing kisses from your navel to your cheeks, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling down which causes you to whine. “I haven’t even fucked you yet… can’t I fuck your pretty little pussy, baby? Fill you up with my cum?”

“Please”

“What are you pleading me for?” Haechan murmurs as he gently taps your cheek with his hand before caressing your face so lovingly that it has your heart fluttering in your chest. You don’t really know what you’re pleading him for, all you know is that right now you want him. “Want me to fuck you that bad? I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“Just—” You swallow thickly, licking at your lips. “Sensitive… s’too much”

“I’m sorry” Haechan gives you a patronising pout. “You know how much I want you. I can’t help myself when it comes to your pussy, baby… All for me, yeah? All of it?” You nod but you’re stopped when you feel the slight pressure in your cheeks from where Haechan squeezes. “Say it. Use your words”

“All for you”

“All for me” He repeats with a hum, one hand holding himself up beside your head with the other slips between your bodies to fist his cock, pushing his tip between your folds to gather the saliva and your cum left behind. “God baby I’m so addicted to you… you have no idea. Can’t get enough of you—your body, your taste, your pussy. You drive me crazy”

“I do?” Haechan meets your eyes with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine, nudging his head against your entrance teasingly as he tilts his head to the side, lips brushing over yours, “Absolutely insane, baby”

You gasp once Haechan fills you up completely, legs tightening around his hips and whining at how sensitive you feel, pussy contracting around Haechan’s cock that stretches you out perfectly, leaving your thighs and cunt aching. 

His hand slides up from between your bodies to rest around your neck, squeezing gently as his lips mould with your own, leaving you breathless when his hips begin to thrust at a pace that has your mind whirling, feeling dizzy. 

The headboard rocks against the wall with each frantic thrust and you’re worried if the neighbours will hear and complain (although you really didn’t care a few minutes ago when Haechan had his head shoved between your legs). 

You reach your hand up to stop the headboard from hitting the wall but the second your fingertips make contact with the cold wallpaper, Haechan’s other hand curls around your wrist to drag it down, pressing it to the bedsheets with a tut as he pulls away from your lips.

“Someone might hear” You warn him, unable to draw your eyes away from his, the dark expression and swollen lips enough to make you whine softly. “They’ll hear, Haechan”

“Let them” He tells you, grunting as he shifts above you, dropping his head to mouth at your shoulder. “Let them hear how fucking addicted I am to you and how much you love my cock. I hope they can hear how wet you sound too… how your pretty pussy is sucking me in so sweetly—”

“You’re insane”

“I know” He hums, smirking against your skin as his fingers squeeze around your neck once more, fingers pressing gently against the pressure points that cause your breath to hitch at the back of your throat. “It’s your fault”

“My fault?”

“Mhm” Haechan nods as he pushes himself up to rest on his knees, releasing his hand around your neck to drag down your body, ghosting over your nipples and trailing down your stomach before resting above your pussy. 

You cry out in pleasure and in shock when he retracts his hand to slap it back down on your clit, electricity buzzing up your spine as your legs close around his figure but he laughs, using his thumb to rub small circular motions over your sensitive clit as he slowly fucks into you, cursing to himself as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy.

“Pussy so perfect” Haechan coos softly. “Can’t wait to fill you up… you’d like that? Yeah? Filling your cunt up with my cum. Do you want it?”

“I want it” You nod frantically. “I want it so bad”

“I know you do” He smiles down at you. “So fucking desperate for my cum to make a mess of your pussy, to fill you up so full… Can’t wait to have a taste, baby. Can’t wait to devour you all night”

Your eyes widen slightly but struggle to stay open due to Haechan’s thrusts, “All night?”

“Of course” Haechan loops his arms around your thighs this time, dragging you down the bed and flushed against him, resting your legs over his chest and pressing a chaste kiss to your knee. You gasp at the sudden movement, his cock buried deep inside of your pussy and your back arches, fingers gripping the bed sheets beneath you. “How else am I supposed to prove how fucking addicted I am to you?”

 ©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #nct haechan smut

[kissitbttr]

ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️

-sapphic loser

“i said no, miguel”

he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,

“why nooot”

“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”

“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”

“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”

miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,

his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”

“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”

“they’re being annoying right now”

you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”

his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,

“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”

“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”

that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,

“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”

“god! miguel you are so—

-

“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”

yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,

his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.

miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,

“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it

“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”

your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”

miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,

god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,

“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”

it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,

“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.

“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“

he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.

he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.

“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”

his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,

“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,

“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”

“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,

“know your limits, baby”

#this is so messy omg #i hate this one tbh lmao #frat!miguel #miguel o’hara blurbs

[predestinatos]

inside me | CL16 ִ ۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ 🗝️.♡

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc × fem!reader 

summary: feelings aren't something charles and you talk about. especially not when you're tipsy in a club bathroom. chapter 3 of an ongoing series.

tags: enemies to lovers, more jealous!charles, i never get tired of writing it, smut, sexual content, cursing, some progress in vulnerability sort of? not much, angsty-ish but soft? ending.

word count: 5.4k

📎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ minors dni !! warnings & note underneath

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), sort of rough sex, sexting, this is soo filthy, unprotected sex, creampie.

note: okay so! i got a bit carried away while writing this, clearly being so much bigger than usual, but it's to compensate for my 4-day absence which will surely delay the next chapter a bit!! thank you again so so so so!!!!! much for the good comments and support, it genuinely makes me very very happy. hope you like this one!

“Two more tequila shots, please” Oscar shouted to the bartender, the music muffling his voice and your thoughts.

The two glasses appeared before you, its content calling to your dizzy mind. Dropping the salt in your hand, you prepared for the countdown. Oscar looked flushed and giddy, already a bit tipsy, just like you. His cheeks were a soft pink and his eyes were constantly in a smiling expression, which spread itself to you. “A toast to a very good friendship” he said, laughing, as you clinked your cups against each other, licked the salt off of your hands, chugged the drink and placed lemon in your mouths.

Oscar and you had kept going out. You enjoyed each other’s company, talking to each other and overall just existing together. Of course, one of those nights you two had to have the talk you dreaded to have. Curiously, it was Oscar who started, his words spilling very fast and messily, although they could be condensed to a simple “I think we’re just friends.” You were totally okay with that. It simplified your life, and Oscar’s following proposal just made it even better. “That doesn’t mean we can’t… have fun together, though. If you’d like to.” And that was your relationship with him – purely a fun one, a jokingly flirtatious game where none of you had your hearts broken because there was nothing to break apart from a few glasses.

So, after many shots and funny faces at the taste were exchanged, here you were, dancing with him enthusiastically, your bodies jumping and touching and having fun.

You were surrounded by people you loved – Oscar, your friends, everybody at that club – and that loved each other in that moment. Your friends got along beautifully with Oscar, and you even saw some potential for deeper relationships with this one girl, so you were happy, insanely so. Except for one thing: the pair of eyes looking at you from you and your friends’ tables.

As much as you tried moving further away, enjoy yourself and drink away the burning hot sensation on the back of your head, you couldn’t. Charles’ gaze wouldn’t leave your body, filled with rhythm and loose, but contrastingly so tense from his eyes.

You knew Charles was coming. But you thought he would be calm about things, take them lightly and not care much, given the fact that you and him were in very weird territory. It was now hard to hide from your friends that something was going on – the snarky remarks had turned more like innuendos and inside jokes that made you blush, and there were only so many nights where, for some reason, only the two of you couldn’t make it. Apart from those two instances, your relationship with Charles hadn’t been physical again. Some texts were exchanged, sure, but neither of you knew what you were doing; you were ice skating on very thin grounds, which threatened to break at any given moment. It was a matter of who was going to take the hardest step.

“I’m pretty sure Leclerc is into you” Oscar started, laughing at something that wasn’t particularly funny were it not for the alcohol in your system. You laughed back, throwing your hands around his neck and letting your mind run through all the thoughts compressed in your head, all the sounds and sensations surrounding you. “You’re friends, why don’t you ask him?” you replied in his ear, hoping he would hear you, or maybe even guess what you were saying. Pulling away to look into his eyes, you saw him shaking his head in a negative motion, the tipsy smile in his pink lips “he would murder me if I even got remotely close to him.” You both bursted out laughing again, shrugging carelessly at the ridiculousness of it all. “No it’s just… he hasn’t stopped staring at us and I doubt it’s because he finds me attractive” the Australian continued, nodding his head towards where Charles was sitting. Unapologetically, you two stared at him, who also unapologetically refused to break eye contact. Holding a beer in his right hand, eyebrows furrowed and shirt sleever pulled up, he looked angry. Yet, he also looked attractive, his gaze dark and possessive, his left hand tense and his jeans hugging his legs perfectly. He raised his bottle towards the both of you as in a friendly excuse of a toast, or even recognition of your existence as something other than 2 nuisances. You nodded again in recognition, a peace treaty that was sure to be broken sooner than later.

As you turned around to keep dancing, you saw Oscar’s eyes widen in shock, amazement and amusement all at once. “What?” you asked, nervous. Before he could even answer, Charles was behind you, half yelling, half whispering, not to you, but to Oscar. “Can I borrow her for a second?”

In his drunkenness, but also his own enjoyment, he merely nodded gleefully, winking at you as Charles gripped your arm softly as if to assure you you were fine, or as fine as you could be in that moment.

The bathroom was tight. Very tight. Or maybe it was spacious but simply felt like it, when Charles was so close to you, his grip on your arm tight but not angry in the slightest. It also felt hot, burning and scalding, like being too close to the sun, yet you knew for sure they had AC and it was on. Releasing your arm, Charles pulled away from you only to lock the door of the bathroom.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, laughing drunkenly at the stupidity of it all. “You’re gonna drive a lot of people mad by doing that” you tell him while fixing your hair as best as you could. You notice his body stiffening at your words and how they mockingly leave your lips, and even though he is currently not close to you at all, you still feel him on every inch of your skin when he lowers his voice and says “you’re driving me mad.”

Perhaps because you were drunk, you giggled ironically. Not only was the situation frustrating to the point of laughing, it was clear you had the upper hand in this case, with Charles’ voice and expression finally showcasing more vulnerability than usual. “And why is that, Charlie?” you ask, keeping the mocking tone that was getting to him even more this time. With the question, you dared to walk closer to him slowly, not taking your eyes off of his face. His jaw tightened and he looked away, his brain seemingly as loud as the muffled music outside. For a few seconds, you remained like that, in silence, your defiance and his stubbornness fighting quietly. Upon his clear refusal to answer, all you could do was shrug, “that’s what I thought.” You start walking towards the door, but his tall frame stops you before you can get to it. You are, again, so close to him, feeling his scent, alcohol and expensive perfume, but not his touch, for his hands remain by his side. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving if you want,” he started, his jaw tense as he licked his lips. “Then answer me” you demanded.

It wasn’t even that big of a question, you just wanted to hear him admit that he was jealous, even though he had no right to be. You wanted to see where this conversation would go, if you could finally put an end to this game you two were playing, as painful as it was for you to end it. You knew deep down the reason why he didn’t answer was because that meant exactly that – it meant talking about feelings, about rules, about labels. And neither of you were ready to do that. You realized then that you were placing on him the weight of it, cowardice filling you even in drunkenness.

Running a hand through his hair frustratedly, he moved his feet to let you move towards the door, unblocking your passage. You suddenly felt cold, his frame not hovering yours anymore, and that gesture held more vulnerability than any other he had ever done in the past. So, because you were slightly drunk, or maybe in spite of it, you pulled him towards you and kissed him.

His whole body relaxed against you, letting out a frustrated and hungry breath. By now, his hands and lips felt familiar yet new all at once. Your heart raced as if it was all novelty, yet you knew it wasn’t, for you had been craving them for so long. The way he was kissing was new, however. It always seemed to be, every time you two met again, for he seemed to place more and more feeling and less and less thought into his kiss, his lips moving against yours in a needy, almost desperate way, much different from the previous arrogance he possessed.

He let out a breathy whimper against your lips, and you realized then how completely yours he was. You pulled even closer against you, his shirt collar feeling hard contrasting with his soft hands on your body, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the sink. The coldness of the sink causes you to hiss and then laugh to yourself amidst the kiss, to which he too lets out a soft chuckle.

“I’m serious, you do drive me mad” he suddenly said, bringing both of your thoughts back to that which you were trying to avoid. You looked down at the already visible bulge in his jeans, and your eyebrows raised before looking back up at him – “I can tell.”

Charles suddenly looked shy, not expecting your bluntness, and he looked away to compose himself. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, he took a deep breath and placed his hand on your leg softly, to which you responded by biting your bottom lip and closing your eyes at the feeling. “You really want to talk about that?” he replied to your previous comment, his cockiness coming back as fast as it had disappeared upon realizing how turned on he made you feel by simple touches.

Feeling brave, playful, or overall crazy, you grabbed his other hand and brought it to your lips. You kissed each of his fingers carefully, not hiding your pleasured face as you felt his gaze darken at the sight of you. His grip on your thigh suddenly intensified, this time as an attempt to calm himself down, though it was clear he couldn’t do so successfully. Charles was already going absolutely insane over the view he had, but then you brought his hand to your cheek and placed his thumb on your open mouth. He inhaled sharply, in lustful anticipation, before you closed your lips around him and sucked his finger while looking up at him. “F-fuck… don’t do this to me” he breathed, his head cocked to the side, both desperate and demanding. You took his finger off of your mouth to reply, leaving your mouth smeared with saliva that he spread across your lips as you muttered “why not?”

With the question, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, your back pressed hard against him, feeling his heartbeat racing and his cock against you. His hand flew to your hair, pulling it so you could see yourself in the mirror, as the other went back to the position it was before, thumb pushing forcefully inside your mouth. “Look at yourself. You look so fucking hot. You can’t do this to me, not when I’m so so mad at you” he whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your body, as he pushed himself against you harder, causing a moan to leave your lips. “What?” he mockingly asked, his eyes pierced on yours through the mirror, a dark smile spreading across his expression.

Everything Charles did hit you with a force a thousand times higher than anyone else. It was the years of accumulated tension that culminated in this incessant need for each other – and it didn’t seem to be fulfilled any time soon. So when Charles released his grip on your hair and removed his hand from your lips, you felt betrayed and disappointed, your underwear soaking wet but unsatisfied. “We’ve had enough fun for a night, you’re drunk” he said, tapping your shoulder carefully as if you were a child.

This sudden change in behavior managed to not only anger you, but also hurt you deeply. It felt like treason, of the highest sort – the way he suddenly seemed to care about your state actually, paradoxically, seemed like the meanest thing one could do in that situation.

“I was drunk the night in my house, too” you replied, your anger coming out of your voice and suffocating any attempts of the hurt from being noticeable. Charles merely closed him eyes softly, taking a deep breath. “We were both drunk. We were both impulsive” he said, opening his eyes and looking straight at you.

His words hit you like a punch in the stomach, making the music stop, at least in your ears, in your mind, in your body. You raised your eyebrows at him, and you wanted to scream, to yell at him, to hurt him back. And you knew the only way to do so was by doing the total opposite of what you felt like doing – “okay” – was the only word that escaped your lips as you made your way out of the bathroom, back into the noise, the drinks, the distractions.

You went home afterwards, your mind spinning and your body too exhausted to keep going. Oscar had dropped you off at home, already sober enough to drive (at least way more than you were), but not before listening to the whole story of What Is Going On Between You and Leclerc, his mouth hanging open during the whole journey. His goodbye was said through a kiss on the cheek and a “don’t show up to races with me anymore, I have to win!”, which made you laugh despite it all.

You now laid in bed, comfortable pyjamas on and too tired to take your makeup off despite the constant warnings from everyone that you should do so. You tried convincing yourself you’d do it later, knowing fully well the most probable scenario was you falling asleep just like that, but it didn’t matter. Your TV was on, something was playing in the background but you weren’t particularly watching it, for your head was still spinning.

The attention you weren’t paying at all was interrupted by your screen lighting up, which normally you would ignore, were it not for its content, and, more specifically, who had sent it.

Charles (Asshole): whre are you (3:12am) Charles (Asshole): cna we talk??? (3:12am)

You shouldn’t answer, in fact, you were tempted not to. However, his texts clearly revealed he was not sober in the slightest, and as much as you hated to admit it, you cared about him. Upon some minutes with your fingers hovering the keyboard on your screen, you replied.

You: home. pls call an uber (3:14am) Charles (Asshole): on my wya. i did. im not taht stupod (3:15am)

The wait seemed hours long. You sat there, before deciding to get some water for yourself, and also for him, who definitely needed it more than you did at this point. You checked how decent you looked in the mirror, and despite frowning a bit at the messy aspect of your comfortability, you decided it did not really matter given the state Charles appeared to be in.

Those suspicions were confirmed after a very badly typed “I’m outside” text, which you decoded well enough to open the door. You were greeted with Charles wearing a giddy smile, his eyes partly glossy and his cheeks red. He seemed unbelievably content, more than usual, and you knew it was because of the alcohol in his veins, his thoughts, his whole body. You stood aside to let him in, and without ceremony, he sprawled across your sofa. “Good memories in here” he started, his voice dragging, stumbling across some words, and finishing with silly giggles.

You merely rolled your eyes at him, despite how endearing he now appeared before you. Sitting next to him on the couch, you felt his head resting on your lap, which, surprisingly, did not ignite your need to protest. Instead, you instinctively caressed his hair, soothing him and yourself at the same time. He let soft murmurs escape his lips, and tried closing his eyes for brief moments. However, he quickly opened them, “God, it spins even more with my eyes closed” he said, bringing his hand to his brow.

“You should drink some water” you said, attentively. Charles looked up at you, his eyes shining with intoxicated passion, and his hand caressed your face softly. “You’re so pretty” was all he could say in reply to your suggestion, a reply which further confirmed the need for him to fulfill that task.

You carefully urged him to sit upright, which he did despite some protests, and brought the glass of water to his lips softly. You watched him gulp the liquid as it dribbled a bit from his chin towards his neck, and you shamefully looked away, images of other much different nights surfacing in your head.

You allowed yourself to look back upon hearing his satisfied “ah” and feeling the weight of the cup decreasing to its minimum. With this, you noticed his shirt unbuttoned, more than usual, and as he sat back, his chest almost fully exposed to you. Your eyebrows furrowed for a few seconds, and you bit hard, holding back whatever feeling was going through you, which you refused to name despite it all. He was drunk, you were not sober, you two had nothing, it was not the time.

You couldn’t help but make a comment though, “I see you didn’t let me ruin your fun” – you tried to joke, but it sounded more petty than you had intended. He looked towards his shirt, then back up at you, before letting out a loud laugh and running his hands through his hair. “Yeah, well, I wanted to take you off my mind. Clearly it didn’t work.”

There it was. The thin line you both didn’t want to cross. Frustratingly, the only times you were close to doing so had to be under the influence of alcohol, making it impossible to discern what is meant and what is blurted out. Because of this, you merely shrugged off a laugh, and remained in silence, looking down.

You felt and heard his body shifting closer to yours from behind, his hands making his way towards your shoulders and neck, massaging them softly. You let him, enjoying the feeling, needing it way more than you thought – either the massage itself or the simple feel of his touch, you couldn’t say. At first, his touch was light, almost hard to feel, like a soft breeze on your bare skin. However, slowly, his hands started applying more pressure, getting more greedy with their movements, as if consuming all of you.

His warm breath hit your neck and ears, the sensation causing your vision to completely blur. It impressed you, how despite being drunk, he seemed to know exactly what to do to push you to the edge. You turned your head back towards his and as is gaze fell on your lips, your heartbeat increased, signals travelling throughout your whole body.

Once again that night, you were aware of how you were the one who pulled Charles towards you, relieving him of the need he had for you like this – not merely with touches, but with a ravenous control and hunger, completely at his display. However, you pulled away, your mind stable enough to know what you were doing – if he already thought you drove him mad, he had no clue what was coming.

His confused expression met your suppressed smirk, and before he could protest, or at least question you, you spoke. “You’re drunk. Don’t want to be impulsive,” and with that, you got up and quickly went to your room, coming back with a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, which you threw on the sofa. “You can sleep here. Those are Oscar’s,” you were aware you didn’t have to say that, but at that point you realized there were no rules to this game anymore – everything counted. “Goodnight”

You turned away, leaving Charles processing what had happened in those minutes, how things shifted so fast. You felt satisfied with the control you had over him, the payback for what he had done, yet you couldn’t deny the frustration only increased as well. It took so much of you to pull away, to not give yourself up completely to him, especially when you knew how good he felt and how much he wanted you.

You sat in bed and turned on the TV once again, trying to drown the pulsating feeling in your core. It was hard to concentrate, knowing Charles was one door away, his warm body so ready to take you. The images running through your mind left you desperate, and you decided to take matters into your own hands – literally.

You slipped a hand down your stomach, inside your shorts, and touched yourself lightly through your underwear. You were embarrassingly wet, and so sensitive that as soon as your hand found its way between your legs, you left out a small moan. You knew it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear, yet you brought the other hand to your mouth impulsively and timidly.

As if guessing, your phone lit up once again, with a couple of texts that left you speechless.

Charles (Asshole): im tryign my best not to go there adn ruin you (4:02am) Charles (Asshole):  but youre making it so hard fro me (4:02am)

You couldn’t move – at least, not anything but your hand, drowned between your legs, frantically moving in unconscious and needy desire. You simply stared at the text, biting your lip to prevent any noise from coming out of. As you stared at it, you saw the three dots that told you he was typing more. Your eyes flew to the door, as if you could see through it towards the living room, where Charles was lying, typing these messages to you. The thought of him behind that door got you lightheaded, feeling utterly drunk again.

Charles (Asshole): i know youore reading these (4:04am) Charles (Asshole): if you want me to, ill sotp (4:04am)

Upon that last text, which wasn’t a threat in the slightest but which you interpreted as such, given the urgency in which you needed him to continue, your hand flew to your phone, immediately typing a response.

You: dont stop (4:05am)

It was hard, typing with only one hand, the other occupied trying to replicate Charles’ own touch, and to make matters worse, you couldn’t think straight. Typing those simple words took more time than you cared to admit or wanted, and you knew he wasn’t dumb to not have realized that. That simple request you made boosted his confidence to reply in a manner that immediately hinted that he knew what to do, that he now felt like he had free reign.

Charles (Asshole): why not? (4:05am)

You couldn’t see him, yet you knew this question wasn’t innocent, you knew he was on the other side completely pleased with himself, a smile sprawled across his pink lips.

Charles (Asshole): asnwer me princess (4:06am)

The nickname, even when used to get under your skin – or maybe because of it – set you over the edge completely. You had been holding your composure for so long that this simple word made you whimper, this time loud enough to know he had heard it.

Charles (Asshole): fuck that was so hot (4:06am) Charles (Asshole): i want you so bad (4:07am)

You were now filled with ecstasy, your walls begging for him to fill you, your head swimming in overwhelming arousal. So, you decided to do what you were meant to do since you first placed your lips on his: keep playing.

You: prove it (4:08am) You: i dare you (4:08am)

That text was all it took for Charles to completely unleash himself, getting up from the sofa and moving towards your bedroom, opening the door with urgency, finding your body outlined by the television lights.

He had changed, somewhere in between your trip to your room and his first text, but only partially – he stood, shirtless, before you, standing at the feet of the bed as you looked up at him, your face leveling his waist area.

You licked your lips instinctively, and for a moment time stood still between him and you, his chest rising and falling deeply, his muscles tense with need. Charles broke that spell by placing his index finger carefully on your chin, raising your gaze towards his and stilling it there. You swallowed dry, lustfully. “Show me what you were doing before I came in” he demanded, roughly this time. In fact, his hand remained there, forbidding you from breaking eye contact, as you lifted your arm and brough it downward, back between your legs. “Were you thinking about me?” he asked, voice growing deeper, more imperious. You nodded, as best as you could with the pressure of his hand on your face, now carelessly holding all of you in it. “Use your words” Charles continued, his erection visible, directly in front of you, so desperate, so conflicting with how he seemed so composed and dominant. “Yes” you replied. Yet, this did not satisfy him in the slightest. His grip on you tightened, and a tsk escaped his lips as he shook his head negatively.

Your hand started moving faster, one finger now dipping inside you, which Charles did not fail to notice, but pretended to be unaffected by. Without warning, he pulled down his sweatpants, followed by his boxers, just enough to expose his erection fully to you. Letting go of your face with violent affection, he now gripped your hair as he held his cock in front of you. “Let’s give those pretty lips some other use since you don’t want to talk” he whispered, his tip now caressing your lips. “Open, princess” his tone was commanding, completely new yet so dangerously arousing. You promptly obeyed, shocked yet completely vulnerable before his own desire.

At first, Charles merely played with you, frustrating your desire to have him in his mouth, despite the fact that it frustrated him in the process as well. His grip on your hair got tighter and tighter, as this teasing game was clearly driving him insane. In a swift and quick movement, he placed himself fully inside your mouth, the warmth and wetness causing his body to shudder completely. You swallowed around him, feeling his desperate push to take more of him in. As you removed your hand from in between your legs to hold yourself on his thighs for support, he grabbed it, bringing it back to where it was. “Don’t fucking stop” he growled, almost incoherently. Having him fully inside your mouth, your nose so close to his navel, and hearing his authoritarian tone, caused a cry to escape your lips. You could barely think, let alone speak, now two fingers buried inside your wetness.

Charles movements were rough as he fucked your mouth relentlessly, your name leaving his lips as if in a chant, as you kept holding his gaze. “Tu es tellement doué pour ça, putain” French once again escaping his lips, giving away his lack of self control, as he unleashed himself completely to his desire. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyes teary with the pleasurable strength he was using with you, and you felt yourself close to coming.

Charles himself was close, but did not allow himself – nor you – to continue. Pulling out of you quickly, leaving saliva all over your now darkened and swollen lips, he did not hesitate to push you down on your bed, climbing on top of your body.

Impatiently, he pulled your pajama shorts and underwear off, whilst you pulled your shirt above your head, completely bared to him. Harshly and lusciously, Charles slammed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out to prepare you for him. “So ready for me, fuck” he whispered, more to himself than for you, yet not caring if you heard it.

His already sweaty body shone in the near darkness of the room, satisfaction spread across his focused expression as he saw how your body yearned for his. Removing his fingers from inside you and placing himself between your legs, he pushed in inside you, his hardness filling you up completely. Your back arched instantly with bliss as your legs wrapped around him in an attempt to feel him even closer, as if such was possible. You were trembling from his scent, his breath and the sounds of your bodies on each other. His movements were fervorous and electric, a fast pace which burnt your vision and set your body aflame.

“Charles” your voice begged, as he continued his movements. Your voice worked on him as a reminder of how mad he was when it came to you, how much he needed to take his desire out on you, his jealousy released with each thrust. “Does anyone fuck you as good as me?” he asked, eyes closing slowly from the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You let out a crying “no” as he grunted, his face now buried in your neck, biting it hard.

A crazy thought crossed his mind, one which was more common than he could admit, one that he thought about frequently in the darkness of his room or even when he was trying to distract himself with anyone else – the thought of filling you up, claiming you as his. This was enough for him to be close, as your moans filled the thick air, and he felt so good inside you, enough to feel intoxicated by it.

“You’re mine” Charles let out, incapable of containing himself. His words caused your whole body to convulse with shockwaves of pleasure as you repeated “I’m yours” into his lips, his neck, your nails drawing patterns on his back. His hisses of pain and pleasure revealed how close he was himself, and he positioned himself in order to be able to look at your satisfied and sensitive expression of complete bliss. Charles erupted inside you with a final thrust that made you see fireworks, as the thickness of the air reached an all time high.

After a few seconds of chests rising and falling, breaths being caught and thoughts becoming clearer, Charles pulled himself out of you and laid next to you in your bed, grabbing the remote as he caressed your arm softly.

That movement, the familiarity and comfort of it, how different it was from the uncertainty of what you two were, to the nature of your ‘relationship’, to you still filled with his cum, suddenly made you want to cry.

You wished he would leave, complete the final act so you can repeat it soon, so things didn’t get complicated, complex and hard for you to do anything about. The frustration was enough for you to get up with a “I’m going to take a bath” in a tone he recognized – somehow – as unlike you.

Getting up from his seat, he followed you into the bathroom, where you stepped into the shower and turned the water on, ignoring his presence completely. You kept focusing on the water running down your body, how it resembled his own touch but not as fulfilling, as pleasurable. The sound of the water running incessantly calmed your thoughts, enough so that you could barely hear him come in the shower himself, turning you around so you could face him.

His expression was tender but nervous, aware of something floating along with the vapor of the warm water, fogging the mirror. Yet, he pulled him to you in an embrace in which you two remained for long, longer than maybe it was supposed to, longer than for it to be considered normal. Pulling away, his lips fell onto yours gently, in a kiss that possessed more words than both of you cared to admit.

You knew, then, that was all he could give you in that moment. And you did not know how to feel about that.

@cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

#charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 fandom #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1blr #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

[goldeunoias]

Pretty little angel.

A/N: I like writing for Heeseung stans bc they always give me A+ feedback on the things i write so here you gooo~

“Never thought someone like you would want to do something so dirty angel,” Heeseung chuckled in your ear, rubbing your thighs as he spread his legs.

“Raise your dress up f’me and I’ll make you feel really good,” he cooed, leaving wet kisses on your neck.

You nodded in embarrassment and did so, Heeseung putting your dress in your mouth and dragging his index finger down your midline and past your belly button. You whimpered through the fabric and your legs twitched some, an amused grin coming onto his face as he drew shapes on your inner thighs leaning back in his seat some.

“A preacher’s daughter wanting to feel the pleasures of the flesh from me, I truly am thankful” Heeseung groaned as he saw a dark patch on your pink underwear, his knuckle pressing against the saturated cotton.

You groaned and felt yourself get nervous, tears coming into your eyes at the stress. Heeseung noticed and pulled your dress out of your mouth, stroking your cheek.

“What is it angel, talk to me yeah?”

You sniffled and shook your head, keening into his warm hand. “I-I’m nervous. They say fingering can break the...you know and I-I don’t want it to hurt,” you managed out, your chest rising a bit in nervousness. Heeseung hummed and moved your hands so they sat on his shoulders instead of digging into your thighs, kissing your cheek softly as he rubbed circles on your hip.

“It’s okay angel, I won’t make it hurt, just trust me ‘kay? You’re my good girl and I would never hurt my little angel,” he soothed. You took a deep breath and nodded, Heeseung grabbing your hand and letting you hold it, your soft fingertips against his calloused ones.

“Squeeze my hand to help you mkay?”

“O-okay,” you agreed. You rested your head on his shoulder as Heeseung moved your underwear to the side, a deep “shit” leaving him as his finger was met with some resistance, eventually making it past your sticky walls.

Your breath hitched and you whined into Heeseung’s shoulder, your breath getting heavy as you felt him press against your walls.

“Let me know where it feels best angel, talk me through it,” Heeseung encouraged in your ear, kissing it to push you along.

“A little higher I think,” you guessed, your walls spasming as Heeseung’s finger pressed against something spongy. “pressdownharderplease” you rushed out, feeling embarrassed at your own wants.

Heeseung could only grin as he followed your instructions, slowly pressing against the spongy part of your walls. The moan you let into his neck was going to drive him insane, ensuring you stayed turned on by messily licking the shell of your ear and kissing your neck; the places he knew were your favorite, even if you never said.

“Feel good angel? You’re rutting your hips into my hand and I only have a digit in,” he couldn’t help but tease, raising up your dress so he could have a better view of your untouched pussy being violated by the likes of him.

“Ngh, I-I don’t know if it feels good, it feels weird,” you panted out, feeling weird sensations form in your lower belly.

“Play with your clit and tits like how I showed you, it’ll make you feel even better,” He instructed. You nodded and Heeseung had to suck a breath between his teeth as you pressed down on the bundle of nerves and tugged at your nipples through your dress.

Your face was burning but you couldn’t deny how good it felt as you let a moan escape from your throat, Heeseung’s hand slowly starting to become drenched.

“I’m gonna slide another one in, let me know if it hurts mkay?” Heeseung softly whispered to you. He watched your face scrunch up as he slid another digit in, shaky whimpers leaving you as you felt yourself get stretched.

“Shit angel you’re gonna make a mess of me,” he groaned as he watched droplets of syrupy essence trickle down both his digits. “Does it hurt?”

You gulped and shook your head, your head feeling dizzy. “I mean it does...but it, ngh, feels good too,” you whimpered out placing your hands back on his shoulders and rolling your hips into his hand.

“canyousuck...on my chest please,” you croaked out shyly, lowering the straps of your dress and leaving your upper half barren.

Heeseung felt his member throb against his jeans as he watched you so bashfully wait for him to ruin you.

“What to do, I’m corrupting my pretty angel by the minute,” Heeseung groaned against your chest. You shuddered for a moment as you felt the texture of his tongue press against your pert nipple, Heeseung’s other hand that was holding your dress coming up to pinch your other swollen bud.

“H-hee my tummy feels weird, different than normal,” you stuttered out as you felt his teeth lightly graze over the sensitive flesh of your nipples, suckling it until marks began to bloom.

“It’s okay angel just let it happen, I got you, I’m right here,” he soothed as he sped up his fingers slowly but surely, his own head spinning as your gummy walls continued to flutter around his hand.

His palm now began rubbing over your swollen clit, your nails digging deeper into Heeseung’s shoulders as you felt something tight form in your lower belly.

“It’s toomuch, I-I can’t,” you panted out, biting down onto his shoulder as a dull ache sat in your belly and in your core.

He winced at your bite and knew there’d be a mark there tomorrow, pressing down firmer against your spongy walls and aching clit “Just a little more angel, c’mon give me what I want you can do it I know you can,” He rasped against your ear.

Your legs gave out from underneath you as the knot snapped in your belly, moans that you didn’t even recognize as yours leaving your throat as your walls uncontrollably pulsed around his hand.

“There you go, such a pretty girl for me,” Heeseung praised as he continued his fingers. You squirmed around in his grip Heeseung’s hand gripped your inner thigh firmly, making movement difficult as you struggled to remove his hand between your legs.

“C’mon angel that was only one, lets see how many more you can take yeah?”

*******************************

A/N: i'm sorry i can't stop writing heeseung as a mean dom i wanted to make it kinkier and make him rougher but i had to RESTRAIN myself

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard thoughts #lee heeseung smut #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung smut #heeseung hard hours

[janeyseymour]

Hey, I was wondering if you could right a Mel x Reader fic where R gets super drunk at PECSA and ended up getting knocked up(from a rando), her and Mel not being together but flirts pretty heavily. And Mel finds her crying in the bathroom abt after finding out, and after Mel finds out why she starts distancing herself and being cold. Then maybe when R’s a few months along Barb tells Melissa off for being so rude, then fluff + whatever ending you think is best?

your wish is my command. lemme know what you think, because i lowkey loved writing this :)

as always, entirely unedited.

Unexpected

WC: ~3.55k

You’re at PECSA, and of course that redhead that you constantly flirt with is right by your side. Neither of you have mentioned anything about going out or whatever is going on between the two of you, but you quite like having her by your side.

You’ve both had quite a few drinks, and the flirting is beyond ridiculous at this point- anybody at the convention can see that the two of you are madly in love despite the fact that you aren’t in a relationship or even doing anything remotely ‘romantic’. She’s not hanging off of you, you aren’t hanging off of her… it’s just the look in both of your eyes and the smiles on your faces when you’re together.

But eventually, she calls it a night as Barb tells her it’s maybe time to head up.

“Oh, go,” you roll your eyes. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“Are you sure, hun?” Melissa asks you, voice oddly soft considering the party still going on around you.

You nod. “I’m sure, babe. I’m probably just gonna have another drink and retire to bed myself.”

“Have a good night,” the redhead tells you as she pulls you in for a hug. She turns on her heel and heads out of the room with her work wife.

And that leaves you as the last Abbott worker at PECSA. You head up to the bar and order yourself another when a man tries to approach you. You’ve seen him at a few of the different panels and discussions, but you haven’t spoken to him and he hasn’t spoken to you (mostly because you’ve had Melissa by your side this entire weekend, not that you mind that at all). He offers to buy you a drink, and you don’t have it in you to say no.

That last drink, although you were heavily intoxicated to begin with, does you in. You end up blacking out.

The next morning, you wake up in your room naked and alone. There’s a familiar burning sensation between your legs. Fuck- you just had a one night stand… and at PECSA weekend of all places. What a fool.

But you figure nothing will come out of it. You’re on the pill, there’s a condom wrapper in the trash… you’re safe. 

That was two months ago. And now, you’re sitting in the Abbott Elementary bathroom, sick as hell. You did have the leftovers that you let sit in your fridge for maybe a day too long before eating last night. After expelling the contents of your stomach from your body, you wipe your mouth and head down to the office, looking like you’ve absolutely had the life sucked out of you. 

“Girl, what’s got you lookin’ like shit?” Ava asks you in her conventional Ava way.

You groan as you sit down in the chair in her office. “I think I have food poisoning. I need to go home.”

“You got emergency plans?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Mel knows where they’re at in my room.”

“Okay, but I can’t promise you gon’ have a competent sub. Mr. J might even have to-”

“I don’t care,” you groan as you hoist yourself up from her chair. Suddenly, you get insanely dizzy. Your vision goes dark, and you wake up with Melissa sitting on the floor next to you looking at you with more concern and love than you’ve ever seen from her.

“What happened?” you groan as you try to sit up.

“Stay down,” the redhead tells you gently. “You passed out in Ava’s office.”

“I what?” you mumble.

She just brushes a few hairs away from your face. “Here. Drink.” She holds a water bottle up to your lips and helps you take a few sips.

“Good god,” you mutter. You lay there for a few more minutes before you finally have your bearings.

“Let me drive you home,” your colleague insists.

“I’m okay,” you sigh softly. “I can just walk.” You don’t live far from the school, so it really isn’t a problem.

“I’m driving you. C’mon.”

Melissa gets you comfortable in your home before she drives back to Abbott, and she’s back at your house come the end of the work day with what she claims to be her own remedy to a stomach bug or food poisoning.

The next day, you’re feeling much better, but then at lunch, the smell of Melissa’s lunch makes you queasy and you have to excuse yourself. You don’t think you can stomach lunch with the way you’re stomach is churning. What the fuck could make you feel so shitty?

And then you remember… you should be on your period right now. But it still hasn’t come. Actually, now that you really think about it, you’re a week late.

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Without thinking, you grab your wallet out of your purse and head down to the convenience store on the corner. You buy a pregnancy test and sigh. Ducking into the bathroom, you rip open the package and take the test. You sit there for a few minutes, silently praying that you aren’t with child.

But as luck would have it, five minutes later the word pregnant is staring up at you. At first, you think your eyes are playing tricks on you. How are you pregnant? You’re on the pill, the last guy you slept with was… shit- you had a one night stand during PECSA weekend. You burst into tears. Loud enough tears, that when a certain redhead comes to check on you, she can hear your sobs from the hallway outside the staff bathroom.

Concerned, she knocks frantically. “Y/N? Hun?”

You wipe the tears from your face as you try to catch your breath. “I- I’m fine.”

“No you ain’t,” she tells you, seeing right through your act. “C’mon. It’s just me. You need me to hold your hair back while you puke?”

“‘M fine,” you say again, but the crack in your voice gives you away.

She sighs loudly. “Hun, you either let me in, or I pick the lock.”

You don’t think she can pick the lock, so you don’t open the door. She counts to sixty, and then you hear the door click as the lock unlatches approximately ten seconds later. She appears in the doorway looking quite proud of herself as she slides the bobby pin back into her hair- that is until she sees the puddle that you are.

“Y/N?” she lowers her voice and softens it. “What’s wrong?”

You just hold up the test as you hang your head in shame. Her eyes go wide as you see what you’re holding up.

“You’re… When did you…?”

“PECSA weekend,” you choke out. “After you- after you left. I- I thought I was fine.”

“You had a one night stand?” she asks you, clearly bewildered and a little hurt.

You nod as the tears continue to flow down your cheeks.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I didn’t think I had to!”

“What are you… you seriously had a one night stand?”

“I did,” and you pick up on her tone- the sharpness. “I’m allowed to do that, you know. I am single, and I don’t need you judging me.”

“I ain’t judging you. I’ve had my fair share of those, but not when I’m talking to someone!” she bites out.

“What do you mean?”

“It means I thought we had somethin’ going on here, but clearly I was wrong,” she huffs out. Before you can get anything else out, she’s gone, and you’re left on the bathroom floor crying alone.

You try to talk to her during dismissal, once you’ve collected yourself a bit more- although you haven’t collected yourself by much. As you would later realize, your hormones are very much already all over the place. But she pretty much refuses to talk to you.

You cry on the way home. Oh how you wish you could have a glass of wine to at least somewhat numb the pain you’re feeling, but now you have a child to think about. Speaking of, you should probably make an appointment with your doctor to confirm that you are pregnant, although you’re almost 100% certain that the test didn’t give you a false positive.

The next day, you take a half day. The doctor is able to confirm that you indeed are pregnant- already about eight weeks along.

You show to school the next day in bulky clothes, as if your stomach grew overnight and you feel the need to hide any sort of signs that you’re pregnant before you’re ready to tell everyone.

Melissa avoids you like the plague. And it absolutely breaks your heart. The next few weeks continue on like this.

And with your hormones and mood swings only getting worse, it becomes harder and harder to fight the big emotions that you’re feeling. So, about a week out from being able to tell everyone that you’re with child, you burst into tears when Melissa comes into the break room, grabs her lunch, and leaves without so much as glancing in your direction.

The sob that erupts from your body startles everyone in the room, and their eyes are on you immediately.

“I- I’m sorry,” you rush out as you grab your lunch and head down towards your end of the hall. Your tears don’t stop, and once you’re in the confines of your own classroom, the dam really does break. You’re reduced to pathetic whimpers and choked out sobs as you almost curse the day that you conceived this baby that you’re carrying- he or she cost you Melissa.

You hear heels making their way to your room, and there’s some stupid part of you that hopes it is the second grade teacher. It isn’t, of course. It’s Barbara instead.

“Sweetheart, what has gotten into you?” the kindergarten teacher asks as she enters your room and closes the door behind you. She makes her way to where you’re curled up in your desk chair and perches herself on your desk.

“I- I’m fine,” you try to tell her, but the tears that continually fall down your face say otherwise.

“Y/N, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer truthfully,” she says calmly, evenly. You nod. “Are you pregnant?”

You gasp. “How do you know?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been through it twice… I’ve had many friends who have had children. I know the signs: not being able to handle certain foods you love anymore, craving the oddest food combinations, more frequent bathroom trips… the fact that you’ve switched from espresso to tea. How far along?”

“Twelve weeks,” you whisper.

“I didn’t realize that you were seeing anyone,” she says softly.

“I’m not,” you mumble. “PECSA weekend… I blacked out after Mel left.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs quietly. “When did you find out?”

“A month ago,” you cry. “And since I told Melissa… she- she hates me!”

“She doesn’t hate you,” the kindergarten teacher tries to assure you.

You sniffle as you wipe your tears on your sleeve. “She does! She was mad!”

“Why would she be mad?”

“Because… because she said something about how she thought something was going on between the two of us, but clearly she was wrong… Barb, I- I didn’t mean to hurt her!”

The older teacher frowns at that. “Sweetheart, are you and Melissa dating?”

“No! I mean, yeah we flirted, but she also flirts with Gary to get cheaper stuff from the vending machine! And I- we were never dating… we never even talked about it, and if I had known that was going through her head… I never, ever would’ve slept with that guy.”

“Does she know that?”

“No,” you mumble as the tears begin to subside. “She left and hasn’t talked to me since.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Barbara says, slightly pitiful.

“It breaks my heart, and it’s made… it’s made me hate this baby,” you admit, and the second it comes out of your mouth, you hate yourself. You can’t believe you just said that. “I- I didn’t mean that.”

“I know you didn’t,” the kindergarten teacher assures you as she pulls you into her arms for a hug you didn’t know you needed. “I know.”

You nod silently, aggressively wiping away at the remains of your tears and relaxing into her touch. “I- I’m fine. I just… got a little emotional. This has been really hard, especially all by myself.”

“I’m sure,” Barb says softly. “If you ever need anyone to help out, you know Gerald or I will always be more than happy to assist you… now, and when the baby comes.”

You start to cry again at that- the genuine kindness radiating off of the woman. That, and while you’re more than grateful for the support, you want that support from Melissa.

“I appreciate it,” you whisper. “I really do… I just wish Melissa would’ve been more supportive… I wish she was here with me through this.”

“I’m sure she’ll come around,” the woman promises. You don’t know it, but she’s already made up in her head that she is going to be giving her work wife a piece of her mind later about this.

You just shrug as you pull away from Barbara. “I- I’ll be okay, no matter what.”

“Yes you will be, dear,” she assures you. “Yes you will.”

“Thanks for coming and checking on me,” you give her your best smile considering your emotional state. “Go enjoy your lunch, I’ll be alright.”

“You need to eat too, Y/N,” she reminds you. “Especially now that you’re eating for two.” She extends her hand out to you, and you take it gratefully.

“Can we just… not talk about what just happened… the Melissa part?” you request softly as you follow her through the halls.

She nods, and when the two of you walk in, she gives everyone a stern look when they ask if you’re okay.

You sigh softly as you settle back into your chair next to Barb. “I’m okay. Just a bit emotional lately… because I’m pregnant.”

There’s a collective gasp heard throughout the room, and then you’re bombarded with questions as they all talk over each other.

“Twelve weeks, no I do not know the gender, no I am not seeing anyone, yes I am keeping the baby, yes I will continue to work throughout my pregnancy,” you state. “And: I expect that none of you will act like I’m broken. I’m not; I’m just pregnant.”

Barbara looks at you proudly as you finish your statement and take a bite of your lunch. Then she turns and gives them all another stern look, and they’re quiet again.

“Congratulations,” Janine says sincerely, and then the rest of them are congratulating you just as genuinely and letting you know that the Abbott crew is always going to have your back and that this baby is going to have more love than you could ever imagine.

You give a sad smile. You wish this baby had Melissa’s love.

When the lunch period is over, you’re able to get through the day without another breakdown, and you’re so grateful that you get to go home and veg out on the couch for the night- no appointments, no meetings, just peace and quiet. 

Meanwhile, Barbara Howard is marching her way over to Melissa Schemmenti’s house.

“Melissa Ann, you better open the damn-”

“Barb, what the hell?” the redhead whips open the door.

“What in the Earth, Wind, and Fire are you doing, just dropping Y/N like two day old bread?! She is pregnant, and alone and scared, and all she wants is you- but you decided that you’re too good for all of a sudden? Melissa, I thought you were better than this,” the kindergarten teacher goes off.

“She’s the one who went and slept around,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she walks away from the front door. “She’s the one who threw away everything we had.”

Barbara enters and sets her bag down on the plastic covered couch before she follows the second grade teacher further into the house.

“As far as Y/N was aware, the two of you weren’t together,” the older teacher purses her lips. “Because for once in your life, you weren’t direct with somebody you had feelings for.”

“I thought I was pretty damn obvious about it!”

“You flirt with Gary too! She thought it was innocent!” Barbara tells her. “All I’m saying is, all she wants right now is you. And I do hope you’ll pull your head out of her ass and be there for her- because while I can offer my own support and the rest of the Abbott group stands behind her, it doesn’t matter; she wants you.”

“Doubt it.”

“Melissa, look at me,” the kindergarten teacher orders, and Melissa pulls her eyes away from the carrots she’s peeling. “Y/N left the break room crying when you came in and didn’t so much as look at her. I followed her, and she told me directly that she thinks you hate her- that she wants you to be there with her through this… that she has some not so pleasant feelings towards this baby because it made her lose you.”

“What do you mean?” the redhead teacher asks as she places a hand on her hip.

“It means that she told me… before redacting the statement, that the situation involving you has made her hate this baby.”

“She doesn’t mean that.”

“She doesn’t hate her baby, but she does hate that you aren’t talking to her… that if she knew that you two flirting was anything more than innocent, she never would’ve slept with the guy at PECSA.”

Melissa sighs. “I should go talk to her.”

“You should,” is all Barbara says back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get home to Gerald.” She turns on her heel and leaves.

Melissa runs a hand through her red hair before glancing at the pot of water that is just beginning to boil. She turns off the stove and grabs her keys before rushing to get to your apartment.

She pulls in all too quickly, nearly hitting your car in her haste to get to you. She’s able to slip into the building thanks to another resident and books it to your apartment number. She knocks swiftly.

Inside, she can hear you groan as you pull yourself off the couch. You assume it’s just the pizza you ordered, and you open it. What’s on the other side of the door shocks you.

“Melissa?” you ask quietly.

“Hun, I’m sorry. I’ve been an-”

“What are you doing here?” you interrupt her.

“Just let me get this out,” she tells you. “I’ve been practicing this the entire way over.”

You nod and gesture for her to continue.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was an ass, and you didn’t deserve the reaction I gave you. I was… I let my emotions get the best of me, and when you told me that you slept with someone else, I just got so jealous and angry because I wish it was me that you ended up with in bed instead, but I wasn’t direct enough with what I wanted, and I fucked up. I- I don’t hate you; I could never hate you. I am so, so ridiculously in love with you, and I want to be here for you in any way I can if you’ll let me- for both you and this-”

You hiccup out a sob.

“Hun, hey, why are you crying?” she stops her speech. She pulls you into her arms and holds you tightly, playing with the ends of your hair.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” you choke out. “Just really emotional lately… hormones,” you hiccup out a laugh at the last word.

“I’m so sorry I left you alone when you needed me most,” Melissa whispers. “So sorry. But if you’ll let me, I want to be here for you and the baby.”

“That’s all I want,” you tell her softly as you wipe at your tears. 

“And I want to be here for you as more than someone who just flirts with you innocently,” she tells you. “I want to… we should date.”

You give her a sad smile, and she knows she’s blown it. “Mel, I-”

“That’s okay,” she says softly. “I- I get it. Not the right-”

“You still want to be with someone who’s three months pregnant?” you ask her hesitantly. “You want to deal with all of this, and then a new baby?”

“If it means I get you,” Melissa whispers.

The tears that had started to subside hit you again, and you cling to her as if your life depends on it. “Please.”

“I’m right here,” she promises you as she continues to hold you in her arms. A hand slowly makes its way down to your still relatively flat stomach. “I’m never leaving you, either of you, again.”

You smile as you lean into her. You, and this baby, will be just fine with Melissa Schemmenti by your sides. 

tags (and lmk if you want to be added to the list!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels—slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @nothere1111 @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

[sorchathered]

Strip that down

Pairing- Club Owner!Jake Seresin x Dancer!Reader (Nightclub AU)

Warnings- mentions of stripping, language, light smut

Summary-I’m gonna be so serious y’all I blacked out writing this, might make it a series of drabbles in the future bc I went feral for the concept.

“I swear you have got to be the most pig headed, arrogant son of a bitch I’ve ever met” you say as you storm down the hall, a very disgruntled Jake Seresin hot on your heels. He hadn’t intended to start a fight but goddamnit it seemed like no matter what he said lately caused an argument.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not like I was asking for that girl’s number or anything, she was all over me! What did you want me to do? hit her? Come on Cherry just stop and look at me please?” He said as he jogged in front of you to stall you. You two weren’t even dating, you’d been very adamant that this was just hooking up, so why were you so pissed? Unless…

“Cherry look at me. I can’t keep fighting with you like this, it’s driving me insane. If you want to break things off we can, I can’t say I won’t miss you but I’ll get it. We work together and it’s hard to be professional when shit like this happens. But…if you want more, all you have to do is ask baby girl, you know good and damn well you’ve got me totally wrapped.”

He had you crowded up against the sticky nightclub wall, bass thrumming through the room straight into your chest as he skimmed his hands up and down your sides. You’d been in the middle of your set when you watched some fresh faced new hire throw her arms around his neck and get way too close for your liking, but of course you had to be professional and continue on, trying to school your features as you danced on stage. The second you’d finished and gotten your tips you’d slammed his portion on the bar, stomping off to the dressing rooms, the fire in your eyes enough to burn the whole room down. He wasn’t yours, he was your boss and you should’ve known better than to let him get under your skin like this.

You were trying to get your bearings but your head was spinning, had he really just said he wanted more? You opened your mouth but promptly shut it, how were you supposed to respond to that? Of course that’s what you wanted but you never would’ve suggested it, you’d been in love with him since the two of you had started this whole arrangement, how could you not be? He was charming and charismatic, and don’t even ask about his looks; the man knew he looked good. He was making it harder and harder to focus now, those damn hands of his couldn’t seem to stop grazing over whatever exposed flesh he could get to and it was making you dizzy.

He cocked his head and smirked that smart ass smile at you, leaning in to whisper against your lips, “Gotta use your words baby, you want us to keep going like we are? Or do you want me to make you mine? You say the word and I’ll make sure every girl in a 100 mile radius knows you own me, but I need to hear you say it.”

“You know I do, I love you, you’re such an asshole but fuck I do, I love you Jake.”

He groaned as he pressed himself to you, kissing you hard as he continued to run his hands all over your body. “Goddamnit Cherry, you can’t just drop a bomb like that on me, making me fucking crazy, I ought to take you right here where everyone can see.” His words sent fire through your veins, you cried out and bucked into him at the thought of him fucking you right outside of the main stage, anyone could walk by and you weren’t sure you’d even care. He chuckled against the shell of your ear as he continued to press his palm against your core, he could feel you soaking through the thin fabric of your costume, again he briefly considered following through with his taunting and fucking you right here, but thought better of it because after all you were still at work. He kissed you again and removed his hand from your shorts, watching your pretty doe eyes blink at him in shock, you really had thought he’d do it.

“Oh come on now don’t look at me like that, go change and grab your stuff, first I’m gonna take you out for dinner and then you can be my dessert, whadd’ya say Cherry Pie?” You rolled your eyes but let him scoot you down the hall, and when you walked out with his hand on your ass you made sure the new waitress caught a glimpse of your tongue down his throat. Jake could definitely get used to this side of you, and the private dances just for him every night didn’t hurt either.

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @sailor-aviator @attapullman @bobgasm @sebsxphia @goldenseresinretriever @bradshawssugarbaby @roosterforme @mynameismckenziemae @sarahsmi13s @hangmansgbaby

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #top gun maverick au #top gun au #nightclub!au

[rowanswriting]

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞

(steve x fem!reader smut)

written for @imyourdaninow I love you so much Dani! 🖤

wordcount- 970

warnings (do not read unless you’re eighteen or over! mutual masturbation, phone sex, name calling. reader is driving) if I’ve missed something please reach out to me! hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome and appreciated! love you guys!

“Baby, did you hear what I said?” You snap back to reality at the sound of Steve’s voice coming through your car’s speakers. You’d zoned out for a moment around the time when Steve couldn’t shut up absolut wanting to get his mouth on you. “This isn’t fair, you know I’m driving home baby.” You whine out, pouting even though he couldn’t see you do it. The older man laughed on the other end, you could picture his smile in your head, he was far too cocky.

“Awww but isn’t that a part of the fun honey? Don’t you like being all wet for me? Don’t you like being my pathetic slut?” You bite back a moan that threatens to slip out at his words, squeezing your legs together as you try to keep your car on the road and not run off into a ditch because your boyfriend is a menace. “I know you took your bullet with you, you always do, why don’t you use it while you drive baby?” You roll your eyes, really you wanted to slap him silly for this, you sigh and reach over into your bag, pulling your mini vibe out, Steve knew you far too well.

“You’re holding it aren’t you?” You roll your eyes harder, pushing your hips up to pull your pants down to your knees, slowing down a little. You hold the button down, turning it on before pressing it against yourself, letting a strangled moan out, hearing Steve’s breathing pick up on the other side of the phone call. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this baby, you’re so fucking dirty. Can’t even wait to get home to get off for me can you?” You shake your head slightly, gripping the steering wheel in your other hand that isn’t busy pleasuring yourself.

“N-no, can’t help it baby, you turn me on so much. I wish you were here, wanna pull over and ride you in my backseat.” Steve moans loudly, the slick sound of him rubbing his cock rings throughout the small space of your car. “Fuck, listen to you, wouldn’t even care if someone saw us either would you? All you’d care about is how deep inside you I could go, I think you’d love it if people driving by looked over and saw you bouncing yourself down around me, you want everyone to know who owns you.”

The aching in your body intensifies as you stop at a red light, his words shooting straight down to where you need them the most, you’re so wet it covers your thighs, leaking down onto your seat, you’d have to clean that up soon but for now you were enjoying the sensation of your boyfriends dirty words, not even caring if someone looked over and saw what you were doing. It would only make you cum harder if they did. “Please, I c-can’t last much longer Steve, need you please.” You press the button again, the vibrations kicking up some as you try to stop your hips from moving too much.

“Cumming already? What a desperate thing you are, do you think you deserve to cum? I think you’re being a very bad girl right now, getting off in the car isn’t what good girls do, baby.” You grit your teeth, what a fucker. “I-I’m sorry! Please I can’t anymore.” You bite your lip hard, feeling your orgasm approaching faster and faster, your legs shaking as you check your mirror, looking around to make sure you weren’t keeping someone from being able to pass you. Steve says nothing, his breathing ragged as you hear his fist working himself faster and faster, the combination of trying to focus and feeling lust drunk makes your mind spin. You feel dizzy, or like a feral animal, he was driving you insane.

“Just think baby, if you cum really good for me, I’ll give you whatever you want when you get home. I’ll drop to my knees at the fucking door and eat you out like you deserve, I’ll fucking worship you, now, cum for me, show me how desperate you are, let me hear you.” He says. The fire burning within your veins finally becomes too much, you pull over quickly slamming on the breaks and quickly putting your car in park, a few more circles over your clit and the sound of Steve’s praises is all it takes.

You should be in porn, is the only thing you can think of as you cum, the breathy sounds coming out of you were enough to make you cum even harder than you already were. Steve didn’t last much longer on the other end, grunting out some things you couldn’t understand along with breathy little ‘fucks.’ You quickly turn your toy off, your hands trembling as you throw it down onto the seat next to you. You slump down, gripping onto the wheel as your entire body trembles. Your seat completely soaked under your ass creating an uncomfortable feeling as you lift up your hips again, pulling your ruined underwear and pants back up your legs.

Steve laughs before speaking again, his voice sounding hoarse from how loud he was being just moments ago. “Holy shit baby, that was the hottest shit you’ve ever done.” He praises, causing your face to flush as you shush him. You two quickly fall back into a regular conversation as you turn your blinker on, putting your car into drive and pulling back onto the highway slowly. You hoped Steve would make good on his promise when you got home, you cranked up the air conditioner and shook your head giggling at some joke he was currently making, pressing down on the gas with the thought of him waiting for you at the door, on his knees.

taglist 🏷️

@bunnyhargrove @sweetdazequeen @steves-babysitter @reidsbtch

#steve harrington smut #steve smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut