beelicious-and-fictitious - Tumblr blog

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Lip Piercing

Summary || [Eddie Munson X Female Reader] To you it's just an insignificant piece of jewelry, but to him it's everything

Labret (bottom lip piercing) || 2.1k words || NO BETA/ BARELY EDITED, Post High School Graduation, Slightly Insecure Reader, Eddie Being Adorkable And Inanely Flirty, Descriptions of Intolerant World View, First Kiss, Light NSFW Ending

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

Hey-o, if you enjoy this fic, feel free to let me know in the comments or reblog with comment and tell me what you liked about it or maybe a favorite line (or just keyboard smash, I know what you mean) ❤ they are always appreciated

It's your turn to host tonight's party meeting. From the minute Eddie Munson graduated, the party was adamant that he continue to be a part of Hellfire club. And while he wasn't allowed on school premises by school administration anymore, he had taken up the unofficial positions of Hellfire Presidential Advisor and Newbie Mentor. 

It's not that the new Hellfire cabinet didn't know how to teach, it's more like they lacked the time and patience to do it themselves. Lucas had to quit both of his extracurriculars to help Max recover in physical therapy, and president Dustin and vice president Mike did their best to balance all of their club responsibilities with their school and non-Hellfire relationships. 

"It's just a little extra hand," Eddie had reasoned to himself. "A couple hours every week spreading the joy of the greatest fantasy game ever created." 

But you knew Eddie better. He missed the club. And on top of that, his garage band had also had to take a hiatus after Jeff got an unexpected full ride scholarship from some out of state college and their drummer's messy parental divorce forced him to move to Iowa. Between losing friends and being bottom rung at his new garage shop job, you knew he was holding back how much the changes were affecting him. 

That's why you invited him over to your house hours early to help set up. Normally, if he had the time available, you'd use Steve or other older members of the gang, but today you just wanted to spend some time alone with your good friend to make sure he was okay. You gave him a list of supplies to pick up and told him to meet you at yours after your quick morning shift. 

It's unlike Eddie to show up on time but he's close enough– only ten minutes late. You can hear the retching growl of his elderly van pulling off the road and into the grass in front of your house. Smiling, you wipe your hands on the kitchen cloth and subconsciously turn your body to the side door, only to be surprised to hear a knock at your front door. 

It takes you a moment of confusion before you open it to find that, yes, it was still Eddie. He looked just as surprised to see you as you were to see him (and seemed to be glancing downward at something). 

"Hey Ed," you say slowly. "You never come through this door…" 

It was just known. Eddie had always been welcome in your house which was too small to be called a bungalow but only slightly roomier than the trailer he lived in. The only people who used the front door were solicitors and your new friends– but Eddie always came through the side door, never a knock between them because he was always expected. It made a part of you sad that things had seemed to change so much in just a few months. 

He was still staring at you with a dumbstruck expression. It made you self conscious enough to look down yourself and check for possible stains on your shirt. Did you forget to wear a bra, perhaps? But when you looked, you found nothing out of the ordinary and looked back up at him, puzzled. 

"What? What's wrong?" 

Eddie shook his head quickly and skirted around you into the house, calling quickly, "nothing, nothing! It's just… didn't want to walk in on you in case your boyfriend was around." 

You snorted as you closed the door. "Boyfriend? What boyfriend?" 

"The Keeley guy, remember?" 

"Oh!" You rubbed a hand over your arm. "Oh that was a while ago; we never even made it to a third date. I can't believe I haven't talked to you about it, that was a month ago…" 

You feel increasingly troubled, but Eddie just bumps his forehead on your shoulder playfully. "Don't worry about it, we both got busy, that's all. I promise I'll use the side door next time. Your package, as requested." 

Then he presented the grocery bags filled with the party supplies. You take them and spread them out on your kitchen counter, talking as you do. “Thanks Ed. And thanks for coming over early to help me set up, I really appreciate it." 

Eddie nods from his position leaning against the counter. He hasn't offered further help nor does he seem particularly talkative despite all the things that you missed out on. He just continues to lean on the counter top with a mysterious smile and mischief in his eyes. 

You finally pause shifting party materials and cock a hand on your hip. "What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Something swirls in the pit of your stomach as his smile quirks up in the corner. His eyes are trained on your lips and refuse to go anywhere else. It's a look you had seen Robin give Nancy from time to time before they got together. 

It's the kind of look you are not supposed to give to a girl who is 'just your friend.' 

Nervous about pointing out the flirty look even if jokingly, you subconsciously tuck your bottom lip between your teeth– and feel metal. 

Your whole body shudders. "Oh…" 

Your hand moves to cover the labret piercing, which you never ever ever wore in public or even told anybody about after you got it. It had been your silly little secret for a time and you had clumsily put it in the second you got home entirely out of habit, completely forgetting that Eddie counted as early company. 

For his part, Eddie seemed deeply amused by your weak attempt to hide the jewelry that had been winking at him in the light for the past twenty minutes. "When did you get that?," he asked, still smiling like a menace. 

You roll your eyes indignantly, "a while ago… it's not a big deal…" 

"Sure I just… never knew you had it in you," he replied, twisting his neck to get a view of it around your toying fingers. 

You dropped your hand and sighed, busying yourself with party set up and snack prepping. "It's just a piece of jewelry. It's cute! But everyone in the whole world thinks wearing something on anything other than your ears is a sign that you're a criminal or a devil worshiper." 

"You don't have to tell me," Eddie laughs. 

You shake your head and laugh alongside him. "I get one piercing on my lip, and suddenly everyone thinks I'm a thug, or a harlot, or I'm advocating deviancy of some kind. It has to mean something in their eyes, because they can't just see it for what it is: just… beautiful." 

Eddie slides a hand onto your shoulder and squeezes. Understanding radiates from his body in waves and you feel an unexpected sense of relief wash over you, like a weight lifted that you hadn't known was weighing you down. It's not an important secret, but having kept it to yourself had sort of made it into one. And now Eddie knew. Eddie, who would be the first in line to understand exactly what you mean when you say it's just jewelry. 

"For the record," he says into your ear, "I really like it." 

"You do?," you feel silly for asking because it's Eddie but it slips out of you anyways. 

He has his arms folded over his chest and wears a teasing smile. "Yeah. Goes real well with your chunky sweater and sensible jeans. Very big 'future cool mom' vibes." 

You punch him in the chest and laugh, "oh shut up, asshole!" 

The laughter dies out and you look at the clock, showing an hour before your rowdy guests will start to arrive. You fiddle with the stud, not wanting to take it out just yet but also far from ready to show the rest of the gang. Long, warm fingers wrap lightly around your wrist and pull your hand down, and suddenly you feel yourself being crowded into your counter by Eddie's body and you don't mind it. Nor do you mind how close his pretty face is to yours. 

"I really do like it," he says again in the slowly diminishing space between you. 

Instinctively, your hands find purchase on his hips and draw him flush against your own. It feels natural even though you have never done this before (with him, your friend). "Yeah?..." 

Eddie wants to do something about it. You want Eddie to do something about it. He leans in until his forehead touches yours and heat pools in your stomach feeling the weight of him against you. 

From so close, you can't see the way he bites his bottom lip but you do feel the tip of his nose bump your own. Your need for him aches and you grow impatient enough to tilt your head and barely brush your lips against his. It sets a fire in the blackened pools of his dark eyes as he feels your lips stick to his just a tiny bit upon the light contact. 

And still he hesitates and asks, "Jesus, please tell me this means I can kiss you and not make things weird between us?" 

"Eddie," you say in a scolding tone and dig your fingers into the lapels of his jacket so hard the leather squeaks, "if you don't kiss me right now, I'm going to–" 

Thank god he does because you have no idea what you were going to say next. His lips are incredibly soft and taste of a faint cherry something that only intensifies as he presses your shocked mouth open and licks your tongue. He can feel your body vibrating with need against him and it only makes him more desperate to keep going. His hands cradle your face and his hips press further into yours, effectively trapping you against the counter. And taking your bottom lip in his mouth comes the gratification of feeling the inorganic press of your lip piercing in his mouth. 

One kiss becomes a series of kisses, drawn out and hungry like a flame taking to new and unexpected kindling. Despite its suddenness, it doesn't feel strange, it just feels right. Hell, it feels like a long time coming, actually. Like you've been dancing around wanting each other since the beginning. 

It's Eddie who pulls away first and you find yourself gasping for air, so dizzy that if he hadn't been holding you up, you would surely have collapsed. One of his arms wraps around your back and you feel with some embarrassment that sweat had been collecting in your undershirt and it quickly turns from cold to hot as he holds you there. 

You open your eyes and focus on his lips, unsure of what you might find if you look into his eyes and you are grateful when he doesn't force you to look. 

"Whoa," he sings in a gravelly voice that vibrates in your chest. "That was… intense." 

A chuckle escapes you and you let the air start to clear. Though your dizziness quickly dissipates, your light headedness doesn't fade and you still feel like your floating. This sensation is nurtured by the way Eddie subconsciously rocks, cradling you against his chest and almost dancing to music in his head. You are convinced he is partially, if not completely unaware that he is even doing it, and you rest your chin on his chest in contentment. 

This little cocoon of budding love cannot last forever though. Eddie heaves a great sigh, presses another kiss to your lips, and takes a step back. You feel all of the heat in your body evaporate like mist and resign yourself to party prepping, first reaching for your piercing to remove it as you make your decision. 

When you do meet his eyes at last, he whispers, "we'll talk about this later." 

Later comes at nearly 2 am after Steve and Robin usher the young ones home, and the only talking going on is your incessant invocation of Eddie's name as he takes you with all the reverence of a starving man finally being allowed to gorge himself on a decadent spread. 

Eddie divests himself of his clothes in a matter of seconds but with your clothes, he worships every part of you that is revealed to him. He lays you down and massages your legs, ignoring the needy tug of your hand tangled in his unruly curls. And when he finally pushes into you and seats himself to the hilt of your core, Eddie sighs and thinks that this is where he's always belonged. 

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

I just think Eddie is so neat I adore every version of him ❤ if you wouldn't mind, please reblog and/or leave a comment to let me know what you liked about this fic!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Hey! Reminder that if you have a blank blog/do not have your age in your bio:

I will be forced to assume that you are a minor and block you! ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ON MY BLOG. PERIOD. The NSFW content that I create is not intented for you to consume!

Minors are by definition people under the age of 18: THAT MEANS YOU ARE A MINOR, IF YOU ARE 17!

I DON'T CARE HOW MATURE YOU THINK YOU ARE! BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE, BEGONE AND DO NOT RETURN UNTIL YOU HAVE REACHED THE LEGAL AGE OF ADULTHOOD. IT IS NOT PERSONAL OR OPTIONAL, IT IS OBLIGATORY FOR YOU TO FUCK OFF.

If your blog is blank enough, you will be reported as a potential bot, so watch out for that as well.

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Okay so...

As it does sometimes, Life has once again gotten in the way of my ability to complete a challenge that I set for myself.

The Two-Week Valentine's Day Special will not be completed in full.

I'll be shifting my focus to more important real life things for a while and this blog may become a bit of a desert again. My hope for now is to take my time writing the WIPs and post them as they are completed, most likely without the Valentine's theming.

But I do have a nice Eddie Munson fic which I will post on the 14th!

It's already written (like literally 2 months ago, I have no idea why I haven't posted it yet) so it's no stress on my part!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

My Big Shot, My Star

🖤 A Valentine's Day Special 🖤

Summary || [Steve Harrington X Female Reader SMUT] Your movie star boyfriend takes you out for a night on the town in Hollywood. 

Movie Star!Steve AU | 5.6k words | NO BETA/SELF-EDITED, Old Hollywood/1950s AU, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Five + Steve Harrington + Presents,” LuMax, Established Relationship, Lavish Gift Giving, Kisses, Loss of Virginity, Steve Is Barely Experienced, Premarital Sex (GASP), Tender and Outdoor Sex, Contraceptive, Fingering (female receiving). 

More Valentines! | Other Keery Fics | Main Masterlist 

You helped Max Mayfield with the rouge on her cheeks and her lips as the time to leave was overshot by a minute. You had both gasped when a black limousine had showed up at your hotel doorstep that morning, and a well-dressed man had informed you that Steve– your Steve– had sent it to bring you to him. Of course you climbed into the back seat and let Max explore with a giddy expression as she pocketed a few of the decadent treats loaded up in the car. 

"So you really are dating a famous movie star, aren't you?," she teased. 

"Well, I…" you stuttered and tugged on your ear nervously. 

You knew Steve before he moved to Los Angeles with his parents. The Harringtons were always well off, but ever since Steve began appearing in films alongside the likes of Clark Gable and Humphrey Bogart, you and the rest of Hawkins had believed that they were swimming in luxury. Steve had always made it sound more humble than that when he talked about it on the phone, but you were beginning to wonder if that was entirely accurate. 

The drive was long but comfortable and you were excited to see Steve in the flesh at long last. Your family had been skeptical about allowing you to travel so far away (and for a boy), but you managed to convince them that it was safe and that Max would need a chaperone with her own boyfriend Lucas Sinclair (who is in California for the year to be mentored by Steve for basketball tryouts). 

But you had no intention of spending Valentine's Day babysitting a pair of young teens when you could be with your Steve, alone for the first time since he visited (last year!). Max had eagerly assured you that she could handle herself and Lucas in Hollywood with only Steve’s hired man as chaperone and promised to check back into the hotel before dark. 

Excitement bubbled in your stomach as the limousine parked outside of a beautiful gated home. There was a gorgeous Lincoln Continental waiting outside as well with the man of the hour sat on the car hood and waiting for you. You threw your arms around his neck and squealed, so glad finally even to smell his natural musk that you missed so dearly. 

"Oh, Steve!" 

His arms crushed you to his chest and your feet stopped touching the ground for a second. Your skirt swirled as he spun around with you, careful to set you down gently before kissing the breath out of you. When your lips parted, Steve stared down at you with a goofy smile and warmth in his eyes. 

“Not a single day has gone by where I didn’t wish you were in my arms again.” Steve’s words stole all the air out of your lungs for the second time.  

“I’ve missed you, too,” you said as you fought back tears. “Please don’t make me cry, my mascara...” 

Steve laughed and swept you into another hug, distracting you from your feelings by chattering away about a new movie that he's filming for (something about baseball). When he was sure you weren't going to burst into tears anymore, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Did you like your gifts?” 

Steve flicked one of your earrings, and you took your own hand to touch the matching necklace at your throat. 

“Yes, I did. Thank you,” you replied sheepishly. “You don’t have to spend all that money on me, though, surely...” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Steve scoffed and waved a hand as if clearing the air. “Don’t worry about my pockets! I won’t say how much it cost but know this: I may be a man of means but I also have a sense for modesty. Isn’t that what you love about me?” He waited for you to chuckle before he said, “besides, I like spoiling you. You’re supposed to let me do that on the holiday!” 

You relented easily and delivered more kisses to his handsome nose. Steve ushered you into the car for a late lunch or early dinner in town. The sun was still about an hour from setting, but the Hollywood strip dazzled you. Well dressed men and women walked in beautiful clothes in the warmish weather and every business was fancy and upbeat, even the streets were paved gorgeously and became a vision! 

Steve took you into a nice diner (through the front doors, no less) and immediately you were seated by a host. A booth with vinyl seats and carved mahogany accents. You looked around nervously but most of the patrons seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations and food tasting. 

“Relax,” Steve soothed you with a thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “You’re safe with me, okay? Nobody is going to bother us.” 

You ordered your food together and tried to catch-up on the past. There were things about Hawkins that you just couldn’t talk about over the phone and it was great to be able to share things with him in person. Steve asked about the other kids in Hawkins, and you told him that Mike, El, Will, and Dustin were loving Hawkins high and had been taken under the wing of a friendly outcast named Eddie Munson. Steve in turn told you a bit more about the parties he got invited to– you thought he might have down played some of the antics that the Hollywood people would get tangled in– but he also admitted he had a much better time making friends with an ice cream slinger named Robin Buckley, rather than the Hollywood Star’s wealthy children. 

The food was delicious and filled your belly to bursting. You were laughing as he told you about how clumsy but brilliant Robin could be when suddenly Steve looked over your shoulder and his face went flat with shock. 

“What is it?” You turned around and saw a large man approaching your table. There was some commotion behind him– a crowd of people, lights flashing, questions being shouted. Steve slumped back in his seat and looked like he wanted to disappear. 

“M-Mr. Mannix,” he stuttered, then stood abruptly to shake the man’s hand. “Sweetheart, this is-is one of my bosses, Eddie Mannix.” 

Mr. Mannix glances at you with a stoic face. He’s well dressed like most everybody else in Hollywood. Tailored suit and matching hat but he doesn’t look like a star, he looks like a working man, a man who gets shit done and who nobody messes with. 

“Ma’am,” he tipped his hat almost as a second thought, then turned back to Steve. Mannix was so tall and broad that he blocked all of the natural light coming from the big windows at the front of the diner and cast a shadow over your beau. “Never seen you taking a girl out, Harrington. Wasn’t sure you were the type.” 

Steve subtly wiped his palms on his pants. “This is my girlfriend, sir. Of quite a few years, actually, sh-she’s visiting from my hometown for Valentine’s day.” 

Mannix made a surprised noise and returned his gaze to you. It wasn’t friendly, per say, but it wasn’t reproachful either. “Well if you don’t want to be in the papers tomorrow, I suggest you both slip out back. There’s vultures here for a 'candid' interview of another young couple, and I can’t have you take up all the spectacle, you understand.” 

Your blood ran cold as you realized he must have meant paparazzi. It was an aspect of Steve’s life that he didn’t talk about much, but he did seem to hate. What counted for news around these parts could sometimes be more akin to gossip and rumors, and you wanted no part of that, not at all. 

Steve’s face grew serious– he must have thought the same as you– but before he could try to flag down a host, Mannix stopped him. 

“I’ve already paid your bill. Left a generous tip, too,” Mannix winked and gestured with his chin towards the door. “Go on, lovebirds, get outta here.” 

Steve thanked him breathlessly and took your hand to help you up. Mannix positioned himself like a shield, protecting you from the photographers until you were ready to dip and even dumping his hat on Steve’s head with a firm ‘I’ll be wanting that back,” as he did. Steve threw his arm around you firmly and rushed out, not slowing down until you were far enough from the diner to break free of the hustle. The sun set and painted the sky as the darkness of night crept in from the opposite horizon and washed you both in warm shadow. 

“That was close. I’m so sorry, doll,” Steve simpered and pulled your face towards his to kiss your forehead. “Mr. Mannix isn’t a bad guy, really, he’s just not a people person.” 

Perhaps not, but he had saved you both. “I’ll be sure to thank him before I leave. I mean, I love being yours, Steve, but the way those tabloids talk about girls… even the prettiest ones…” 

“I know,” he petted your back, and Mannix’s hat flopped down at an angle, almost obscuring his pretty eyes. “Let’s get you in the car, okay? I’ve got a few more things to show you.” 

As you walked, you heard Steve muttering determinedly to himself. “Someday, things are going to be different. And you and I will never have to be afraid of hateful, ignorant people ever again.” 

…

The heater in the car worked wonders for your chilly hands and you lamented not bringing a sturdy coat with you. Of course Steve loaned you his and discreetly left Mannix’s hat on the dashboard. 

“Why’d he do that anyways?,” Steve griped, trying to fix his eternally perfect hair. 

“Because with that do, they’d notice you in a dark room,” you laughed. His hair was too iconic, it had made headlines for months after just a small role as an extra in a film. Girls across the country swooned at the sight of him, even though it was longer than respectable men wore it, and that fact had launched the career his parents had so desperately sought for him to have. 

“I suppose.” Steve stopped the car at the foot of a hill that made you gasp. “Yeah, the Hollywood sign. It’s impressive to look for the first time, I guess, but there’s more I want to show you. You wear those kitten heels like I told you?” 

You gave him the stink eye. “You know I did, you’ve been looking at my legs all afternoon!” 

Steve tilted his head and gave you a conspiratorial wink. “Well I can do far more than just look, if you want me to.” 

The last thing you were expecting to do on Valentine’s day was hike up a steep hill, but it was worth it when you saw Steve also grabbed a picnic basket from the trunk. He finally let you stop beneath the letter D of the sign and began to unroll a blanket. The area here was flat and bare of the desert brush, almost like he had scoped it out or made it himself. It gave you a perfect view of the sun setting and the lights of the city coming on like their own earthbound stars (and less of a chance of being spotted from below by passersby or vagrants or the heat). 

“Oh, Steve,” you gasped and covered your mouth in awe at the sight of the city. “It’s beautiful…” 

Music filled the air from a portable radio. Steve came up behind you and held you close, watching the horizon himself and swaying gently. He lulled you to the point of dreaminess and kissed your neck until you were weak for him. 

“Are you having a good time, doll?,” he whispered in your ear and made you shiver. 

“Yes,” you whispered back. “Can we stay like this forever?” 

“Not forever, dear,” Steve replied wistfully, then spun you around and danced with you gently. “But we can come back and do it over and over again.” 

…

Lying on the blanket, you didn’t need the jacket or your sweater because Steve’s body heat was enough to warm you. You laid across his chest and watched the stars glitter from miles above and imagined a world where you were both old and simple-living folk, married and lying beneath the constellations of home in Hawkins. Maybe when Steve retired from the moving pictures, he would bring you back to Hawkins and you could raise a family there. Together.

“Darling?” Steve’s voice rumbled beneath your ear, his tie discarded and shirt buttoned down scandalously. 

“Yes?” You lifted your head to look down at him with his hair splayed like a halo. 

“I love you,” Steve said reverently. “I… need you to know that there’s no funny business going on with me when you’re not around. I don’t party with those socialites anymore, and Robin really is just a good friend. I want you to know I would never do something that would break your heart because my own belongs to you and you alone, okay?” 

Your face stung for a moment and you couldn’t meet his eyes. You drew circles over the button keeping his shirt from opening further. “Well it sounds like you probably already know I was worried about it. But seeing you today? Well… now I'm certain more than ever before that you do have eyes only for me.” 

“That’s exactly right,” he exclaimed, and pulled you into a deep kiss that made you light headed. “Eyes for only you, my love. No one could ever captivate me the way you do– understand me and love me the way that you do. This year has been so hard for me because I couldn’t be with you. I would give up everything if you asked me, doll, just say the words.” 

You buried your face against his chest where the hair there tickled your chin and soaked up some of the tears from your wet lashes. “I won’t go that far, Steve. But what I will do, is love you with all I have like you do for me. I trust you to be loyal and honest for me, dear, and I… I know you’ll do right by me.” 

Steve rolled you onto your back and kissed you soundly, trailing his lips over your eyes and down your throat until he was pulling the neckline of your dress aside and sucking on the skin there. You tilted your head further and further back and lost yourself in him, feeling heat gather in your face and deep in your gut as his hands explored other parts of your body like a man starved. 

“Is this alright?” Steve’s hand smoothed up your bodice, gentle pressure brushing over your clothed breast and making you gasp. 

You nodded and he continued, kissing over them and drawing his hand down. Self consciously, you gathered your skirt into your hands and pulled it higher. The cool twilight air breezed over your thighs and Steve’s wandering hand found purchase there, massaging you where no one, not even him or yourself, had ever dared touch you before. 

You were left panting beneath his ministrations, wanting more as your awareness of the world around you shrunk until just the two of you remained. Carefully, Steve laid on top of you, his hips spreading your thighs apart naturally and fitting like he was always meant to be there. As he kissed your lips, you kissed him back fervently and did your own exploring. You unbuttoned his shirt further and felt over the expanse of smooth, freckled skin and the sparse hair on his chest. 

When he rolled his hips into yours, you felt something pressing into your body that made you mewl. 

Steve lifted his head so you couldn’t reach him and proposed a new query. “I have a condom in the basket... do you want to…?” 

Your heart pounded hard in your chest. "Yes." 

Steve didn't know he was holding his breath until he heard your answer. Back in Hawkins, the boy was happy to wait until you were ready, especially given his first time had been with Nancy Wheeler who for one reason or another had not been eager to do it again. He wanted to do it right with you. Make your toes curl and beg him for more. 

He got up just to grab it and gave you room to breathe (in case you changed your mind). “Oh, I also have wine in here. Some cheese and bread if you want.” 

“I’m good,” you patted your stomach, “that dinner was exquisite.” 

“It was, wasn’t it?” Steve came back and returned to his position, laying the wrapped rubber next to your head. “For later, just want to kiss you a little longer…” 

You quickly lost yourself in his attention. His shirt became untucked and the zipper on the back of your dress lowered but it was not drawn down completely. His taste and his smell became indistinguishable from your own, and after a moment, you felt his hand return up the skirt of your dress, under your slip, and your knees pushed further apart until his calloused fingertips brush over your belly just above the waistband of your panties. 

Nervousness trembled in your chest as he drew the cotton panties down your legs, but Steve never took his eyes off your face and he covered your nudity with his own warm body as soon as they were free. Your hand followed his with a light touch on the wrist as he averted his eyes just before finally touching your bare womanhood. 

The contact was entirely expected and yet you jerked in surprise anyways. He checked your face for assurance and did it again, testing the waters and making sure you were enjoying it. The contact made your mind race with your heart and your sex ache and it was all so exciting, especially when you sighed pleasantly and a triumphant smirk appeared on his face. 

“Feel good?” 

“Yes,” you replied in a voice so dark and different from your natural one that it startled you. “Yes, Steve, yes.” 

Steve shushed you and resumed his passionate kisses along your neck. His cool fingers collected slick and massaged your womanhood until they matched in temperature, and then he– 

You moaned and threw your head back, instinctively trying to close your legs but unable to with the grown man laying between them. The intrusion of his finger inside you was beyond strange, but after a moment of stillness and placating kisses to your face, you relaxed around it and could almost forget it was there. When he began to move it, penetrating you back and forth and back again, you acclimated to the sensation rather quickly. At the second finger, you winced. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered in your ear. 

You hummed back and felt slightly embarrassed when you realized where the unusual squelching noise was coming from. “Is… is that, me?!” 

Steve chuckled, “it is. Don’t be embarrassed, doll, it means you like me. It means I’m doing a good job, and your body is preparing for me.” 

Preparing for what? And then you remember the condom on the blanket waiting to be used and the bulge in his pants that hadn’t gone away, just pressed into and sometimes rutting against your inner thigh. You wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck for comfort. The new touching was good, but would the pleasure last? Would it really hurt? 

“Steve?” You must have sounded scared because he stopped all movement and looked deep into your eyes, searching. “...I’m ready. I want you. Please.” 

Steve’s eyelids grew heavy, and he slipped his fingers out of your channel to sit himself up and take the condom. For a moment, you hesitated on what to do but decided that watching the stars was mundane now. You sat up on your elbows and watched him work, unsure if you would make him uncomfortable seeing as how he would need to take his clothes somewhat off. You closed your legs and rubbed them together to gather warmth and feel pleasure return at the apex of your thighs, as if you were strumming your own instrument. 

Your boyfriend worked quickly and carefully. If he was bothered when you bit your lip and stared at the sight of his manhood, he didn’t show it. He just stroked his hand over his shaft and rolled the condom down, sheathing it in an opaque plastic or latex. Then he helped you part your legs again and repositioned himself at your entrance. 

“Are you sure, baby?,” he said even as his desire was clear as day, “we can stop now if you want.” 

You shook your head no and braced yourself. You did not want to stop. You followed his instructions, breathing and relaxing and tapping his shoulder when you needed him to pause. And then his warm hips were pressed flush into yours and his grunting turned into a relieved sigh. 

“Is that it? Er, is that all of it?” Your face flushed hot at your own words and Steve pecked a kiss to your lips. 

“That’s the whole thing, yeah,” he replied. And then his started moving, thrusting shallowly into you and you watched his face go slack with an occasional tick and grunt. “Oh, sweetheart, fuck– I’m sorry I don’t mean to cuss, but– fuck, you feel so good…” 

That warmth in your lower belly was beginning to coil. It was good, it felt good and making Steve feel good felt good to you, too. You had never seen this side of him, only caught glimpses of it when you would make-out in secret at the drive-in theater back home. He was making noises you had never heard him make before– he was making you make noises you had never made before! And as he moved faster, he also moved a little harder, but not to hurt you, it was good and he was deeper somehow, and the mound above his shaft was massaging some part of you that made the coil tighten faster and harder like his thrusts until– 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–” Steve’s head dropped to your shoulder and he stopped moving all together. The tightening coil which had felt about ready to snap instead eased back some, leaving you tingly and pulsing with the beat of your heart. 

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What happened?” 

Steve’s body went slack and he lifted his head, now sporting a drunken and sated look on his face. “I finished,” he said with a lazy smile. 

“Oh.” That was sex. And you had finally had it with the love of your life, no less. It was a lot of fun! Being tangled with each other, sharing pleasure like one being, giving and receiving the most coveted form of love. You should be happy and satisifed too... but the twinge of disappointment that blossomed in your chest… well it confounded you. 

“What’s wrong?,” Steve asked. 

He had already fixed your clothes back into place and bundled you in his jacket to keep you warm before fixing his own clothes. You didn’t see what he did with the condom but you have a suspicion that it was simply flung somewhere on the empyy hill side. And he looked really sad right now, like a puppy left outside just as storm clouds gather overhead. 

“Nothing,” you answered enthusiastically, “it was perfect, you were perfect! I’ve never felt so much pleasure in my entire life. I can see what all the fuss was about!” Your laughter was a little hollow and you could tell that Steve was not totally convinced, even if he was playing along. “We should get back. I want to make sure Max and Lucas are safe. You can stay the night with us girls if you want, there’s two beds.” 

Steve nodded his head distractedly and began to pick things up and packed them back into the picnic basket as neatly as he could. “Actually, I was thinking the same thing, except for you and Max to stay with me.” 

…

Steve drove to the hotel and collected the kids. Lucas and Max were so quiet in the backseat that you kept glancing at them through the mirrors to check on them, but they didn’t look like they had been fighting, they were just lounging sleepily with their hands folded together on the cushion between them. A part of you worried momentarily that they might have gotten up to the same adult antics as yourself and Steve, but then you dismissed it and returned your attention to massaging Steve’s right hand. If they had or they hadn’t, it wasn’t for you to know. 

“Oh,” Steve said as you all walked together towards his home-- a certifiable mansion-- and he tapped his forehead as if to sell that whatever thought he had just had was genuinely forgotten. “I do have one more surprise for you! All of you.” 

He steered everyone around the side of the house through a beautiful garden. 

“What it is,” Max asked, but before any answer could be given, Lucas looked through a large, picturesque window and another equally big window out to the backyard, and screamed. 

“HOLY SHIT! WILL! MIKE! EL! DUSTIN!” 

The boy bounded away like a track star to the swimming pool, where four excessively happy kids were cheering and smacking the ground noisily with pool noodles. Lucas tackled a screaming Dustin into the pool, and Max broke away excitedly to meet El for a wet hug. Mike hopped into the pool to join in the fun, and Will hugged Max too before inviting her inside to get a swimsuit. 

Stunned, you blinked a hundred times to see if you were dreaming. “Steve, I can't believe you did this!” 

You tore your eyes away from the happy reunion to find your boyfriend pridefully stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging with faux humility. “No big deal. I missed them myself, the little rats. They almost got themselves caught when you were being dropped off earlier for our dinner date! Would have been a bummer to ruin the surprise so soon...” 

The kids were unbelievably rowdy, but you paid them no more mind as you pulled your boyfriend into a thankful kiss. Steve quickly steered you inside, but not for a bathing suit like the kids had for Max (Lucas had already ruined his nice clothes and decided he needed none). Steve assured you his parents were out of the country and the house was so big that the kids would get lost before they found the two of you. And he showed you to his roomy bedroom with the forgotten bottle of wine from the picnic basket and some crystal glasses.  

“I couldn’t imagine a better Valentine’s day,” you marveled. “Or a better Valentine, at that.” 

Steve blushed and kneeled to help you out of your shoes. “Just wanted to give some love back.” 

He discreetly pushed up your mid-calf length skirt and planted a kiss on your knee. “I know that maybe it’s a little soon but… I’ve been dying to see what you look like out of your clothes.” 

You couldn’t fathom why you felt so scandalized by this– he was just inside of you not half an hour ago! But the more you thought about it, the more you became determined to indulge in desires of your own. 

“You first,” you declared and swirled the wine in your glass. 

Taking it as a challenge, Steve stood and began with slow and deliberate movements, undoing his pants without taking his eyes off of you. You watched him, enraptured. This time, his shirt came all the way off and landed on the carpet. He helped you stand by the hand and set your emptied glass aside, then slid your sweater down your shoulders. His lips returning to your neck was becoming a familiar feeling yet it never failed to leave your skin tingling. 

You turned around and brushed your hair aside to offer up the zipper, feeling the dress loosen quickly, and you choked briefly as you felt your brazier loosening, too. You allowed both materials to slide down your arms and shivered over every tiny touch of Steve’s hands and his sweet smelling breath on your back. 

He tugged on your hips until your body was flush against him. “So beautiful…” 

You removed yourself from his grasp and slipped out of your underwear. You laid yourself on his bed half beneath the covers, feeling exposed but powerful and safe with him watching. As Steve was taking off his pants (all the way now), you grew bold and reached between your legs to see if you could find that spot that he had unconsciously stimulated earlier that created that coiling feeling in your belly and your legs and in between.

You found it quickly and began to massage it more. You discovered that circular motions provided the best stimulation as your pleasure began to build anew. 

Steve divested himself of the last of his clothes and climbed into bed with you, looking mischievous. “What are you playing with down there?” 

You flushed hot and bit the inside of your cheek, not knowing what to say, so opting to say nothing at all.

“Come on, let me see..” he pulled the covers back and looked down. 

His mouth hung agape as he saw you were actually touching your most intimate area. He scooted in closer to you and laid a curious hand on your thigh, waiting for permission. “May I?”

You moved your own toying hand a little and sighed pleasantly as he took over, copying your motions exactly and applying some pressure as well. He was working you up faster than before and he loved the way you were falling apart for him, getting more comfortable with intimacy and letting him know just how good he was making you feel. 

Steve covered your mouth with his own and swallowed a few of your moans. He stuffed his fingers inside you like before and pumped them, nipping your bottom lip as you dug your nails into his arm. 

“Please don’t stop, Steve…” 

Moonlight glinted off of the pool and danced in waves upon the ceiling as your moans climbed higher in pitch. But you felt a plateau forming and your disappointment came back full force as after a few minutes, Steve seemed to be slowing down. You just knew you needed one more thing to get you... somewhere, and then you realized suddenly that when he had changed the position of his hand, he had also stopped playing with that special spot. 

“Steve, Steve.” You looked desperate and tried very hard to convey what you needed, as you were unable to speak coherently. And sweet, clever Steve caught on to your meaning, and without stopping the deep thrust of his fingers, he used his thumb to make those circles on that spot again as best he could. It was enough and you feel that tight coil snap. 

You let out a gasping scream as your whole body convulsed and twitched rhythmically. Your legs snapped closed and trapped Steve’s hand between your thighs, and you writhed with pitiful and lewd noises until your soul returned to your body and left you completely drained. Steve stared at you for a long time until he gently eased his soaked fingers out and let you rest more comfortably. 

It took him several minutes to collect himself while you were falling asleep beside him. Finally, he muttered, “so that’s what’s supposed to happen… hmph, well that's news to me...”

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

First time with Steve Harrington's GOTTA be top ten on my list, y'all. He is so fucking wonderful and cute and FIFTIES Steve would be hella wholesome. Leave a like, comment, or reblog to let me know if you like these and want more!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Spicing Things Up

❤ A Valentine's Day Special ❤

Summary || [How To Be Alone’s Jack X Female Reader SMUT] You show Jack your extraterrestrial appendages and after some freaking out, you get to show him how much fun they can be. 

Girlfriend Reader Has Tentacles | 5.3k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Four + Jack HTBA + Kisses,” Light Angst, Alien!Reader, Faux Alien Anatomy, Mentions of Having Children, Xenophilia/Teratophilia, Kissing, Safe Word Checking, Sub!Jack, Anal (male receiving), Gaping, Overstimulation, No Contraceptive.

More Valentines! | Other Keery Fics | Masterlist

You didn’t mean to set this up on February the Fourteenth, but you figured it wouldn’t matter much given it is just as good a day as any to get dumped by your loving and caring but painfully normal boyfriend. You had heard from a friend of a friend that Jack had bought a ring and, yes, it doesn’t exactly mean he bought that ring, however if it was for an engagement, then you were now racing against time to tell him your crucial and very classified secret!

A secret that, on several occasions, had ended with you alone. Sometimes through your own fault of waiting too long to say it or having it revealed on accident without preparation. All of those partners had to have their minds erased, and one occasion had gotten so out of hand, there was a whole town in Middle of Nowhere, Arizona that had to be mind wiped. You didn’t want that with Jack, he is the world to you and if you can help it, you actually want to spend the rest of your life with him! And yet you also need to be realistic with yourself and remember that ultimately he may choose to leave despite everything you have been through together. 

Jack already left for the hospital to start his shift, so unfortunately you have plenty of time to kill...

To distract yourself from your catastrophic thoughts, you decide to decorate the house. Streamers, plushies, banners– the dollar store makes bank on your one trip to get supplies. And the baking? You’ve gone completely overboard, made more cookies and cupcakes and brownies that you and Jack could ever stomach in a lifetime. You decorate them with pink, red, and white icing and heart shaped sprinkles until there is no kitchen counter space left. 

It makes you look nervous– well you are nervous. You told Jack that you had something serious that you wanted to tell him six days in advance. And he’s been great, amazing even, in holding off questions and making nice while you spiral up and down like trying to hang on to a roller coaster from the outside. 

“It’s nothing bad,” you had said more to assure yourself than him. “And it’s nothing to do with you either!,” you interrupted yourself in the hopes that you weren’t inadvertently driving him just as mad with worry as you were doing to yourself. If Jack was upset or losing his mind, he was doing an excellent job at disguising it. Aside from a few concerned looks, he seemed to be handling it with relative ease. 

You take a seat to catch your breath and suddenly realize you’re exhausted. Everything with a clock face or tells time had been turned off by you in the morning to keep you from counting the seconds until Jack gets home. You haven’t eaten lunch and realize as you look out the window it’s well past noon, maybe three or four pm. 

God, maybe if Jack does break up with you, you’ll just get a cat. One that loves to cuddle and play, one with enough panache to demand food when it's hungry and maybe help you do the same for yourself. At first you think about just throwing together a bowl of cereal, but Jack is still not going to be home for hours so you switch gears and make yourself something decent (after moving the baked goods off the stove and onto the kitchen table). 

Cook. Takes time and attention, savoring the smells and growing hungrier as you move steps closer to your goal. Eat. Taste every bite and make notes about what you could do better next time and what ingredients you’ll need in the future. Wash. Take everything by hand and scrub and rinse and dry with robotic calm and care. Hum a tune so you don’t have to look at your phone and get concerning messages that might pull you away for your very important date tonight. 

Jack comes home early. You hear the keys in the door and are convinced that somehow you have imagined them, until the door swings open and your boyfriend appears bathed in warm sunlight in his blue scrubs with a dozen red roses in his hands. And that smile, that easy tug at the corner of his lips that crinkles the skin around his kind eyes and makes your heart melt into a puddle. If you weren’t already leaning over the sink, your ass would be sprawled out on the floor from weakened knees. 

“Hi, baby! D’you miss me?” 

“Of course I did,” you say and you mean it, you really did. 

You drop the soapy fork in the sink and hug him, peppering kisses all over his freckled cheeks and drinking in the scent morning cologne, dry sweat, and hand sanitizer on him. He tries and fails several times to capture your lips with his own, giggling as he is forced to shove the flowers into your hands and hold you still so he can finally kiss you properly. And you melt into each other, bodies pressing together like magnets and crushing some of the roses’ petals. 

The moment ends when he pulls away from your kiss to glance down at you lovingly. He always does that, sappy romantic gazes that makes you feel like the only person in the whole world, and you feel your resolve to tell him the truth slip out of your hands like a live fish. Maybe he never has to know. Maybe you can hide it for decades and just tell him that you are unfortunately infertile. Maybe you can adopt a cat and a baby and call it good! 

But you’ve tried that before. It always slips out, and you can’t gaslight them into believing they didn’t see something they clearly had. So instead, you pick up your resolve (which is still flopping like a desperate fish) and try to hold on to it a little longer. Almost there. 

“How was your day?,” Jack asks, rubbing your back and stepping away to remove his shoes and put them by the door. “I dropped at least three things on my shift today, but thankfully no babies.” 

“I’m sure the parents were thrilled when you told them that joke,” you quip dryly. 

Jack laughs and discards his lanyard on the key hook by the door. “Oh geez, that’s a good way to get myself blacklisted from every hospital in the state!” 

You look around the apartment feeling a little self conscious. “Well, you can probably see I spent most of my day decorating.” 

Jack makes a show of looking up and around, his eyes bulging at the dessert covered counters before falling back on you with a sympathetic and amused look. “Yes, I can. It looks great, baby. We can probably, uhm, take some of those treats to the neighbors.” 

You laugh together awkwardly. It feels like your heart is beating uncomfortably against your rib cage and your stomach is vibrating with anxiety. 

It's time to tell him your secret. 

…

In the bedroom, you make him sit. Then stand. Then sit again. Trying to calculate for the possibility of him fainting and causing the least amount of physical damage when he falls. He stands in front of the end of your shared bed obediently but you can see that he's running out of patience with your indecision and nerves. 

Meanwhile you babble incoherently, trying to balance the narrative and prepare him for either entirely mediocre news or the worst thing he has ever heard in his entire life that will uproot his whole existence and lead to him needing to be neuralized.

"Sweetheart, please," Jack interrupts before you can shoot off on another extremely nervous tangent. "Just… tell me what it is." 

You bite your finger so hard you leave indents. "... I have something to show you." 

Hadn't he been listening to anything you were saying just now? Well, he was probably gaining net zero information with the way you rambled and backtracked and contradicted yourself. No more games, just do it. 

You force your hands to rest rigidly at your sides and lift your chin. "It's my body. Something you don't know about it… something I'm not supposed to tell you about unless our relationship is truly serious." 

Jack shifts in his seat looking worried. "Okay…" 

"I probably wouldn't even ever tell you about it, except that if we want kids together, you know someday not now, like five or ten years from now, if you still want to be with me, it will be important," you add. 

"Right you said that," Jack sighs and rubs his temples. "And you said it's not an infectious disease. And it's not 'bad' but it's not 'normal' and and and– sweetheart! All this… anxiety and stalling is unnecessary. You know me, sweetheart, I'm a rational guy. I'm going to react rationally." 

"Yes, and I love you for that. But…" and you take a breath like it will be your last. "Right now, I am going to ask you to be more than rational. I need you to open your mind and expand it beyond the realm of your known reality because what I'm going to show you… is not for traditionally sound minds." 

Jack swallows roughly, then gives you a serious nod. 

As he watches you, something moves beneath your shirt. Slithering movements expand like a living creature hidden beneath the fabric. What the fuck is that…, he wonders, and his confusion compounds with fear as a slithering something falls out beneath the hem and reveals itself. It curls upward and uncurls at the end, prehensile and dexterous. It looks like a tail, or a tentacle, or… but… what even... did you have an octopus under your shirt? Did you somehow get your hands on animatronics and think you could scare him with it? Is this payback for making you watch The Thing?

Another one follows, then another, until there are four distinct worm-shaped waving things, all undulating as if they are independent minds that have agreed in a telepathic language that they are collectively discomforted by being watched. 

Jack wants to glance at your face but he cannot tear his eyes away from the abnormal growths that are supposedly connected to you. His brain struggles to reconcile all this information and can't seem to sort anything rationally. He knows your body– or he thought he knew your body– where have these things been that he never noticed them before? So then it has to be a prank or a lie but that also doesn't make sense because why the fuck would you do that to him? 

"Jack?" 

The– he can't stop thinking of them as– tentacles seem to shrivel away from him and he watches your clammy hands pull your shirt back down over them… yet he can still see the impression of them, hiding, pressed against your belly. 

The disconnection of visual dissonance makes him blink and feel relief. He tries to stand abruptly and instantly his vision goes black and ringing fills his ears. Your hands– your normal human hands– grab his arms and help him sit back down to recover. Your terrified face swims back into focus. 

"Are you okay? Do you need water?" 

Jack's hands grip your sweater hard as he asks, "what are those things? Where did they come from? Why, how, what…" 

You look away uncomfortably and try your best to answer calmly. "Well, we consider them just as limbs, but to you they might seem like extra, flexible appendages. They come from… well, you probably misidentified it as a naval, but people of my species don't have umbilical scars. We…" you swallow, "pull our limbs inside to protect them from physical attack and… to blend in." 

"S-species…?" 

You stroke his hair to comfort him (and yourself). "Yeah, I'm… not really human. Uh aliens are real– we’re not evil abductors or impregnators though, by the way– and there are like billions of species just on Earth alone, not every alien is like me. You know that movie Men In Black? It's exactly like that! Actually it's a fictional documentary, Lowell Cunningham worked at the agency for decades before he became a comic book creator." 

Jack nods like a bobble head and tries to stand again, this time successfully, but he starts to back away from you, inching towards the bathroom. 

"I need a minute. I need, I need a minute." 

Jack stumbles over his feet seeking salvation in the form of the 4 x 5 foot windowless concrete cell that the landlord called a “full bathroom” and who charges extra on your monthly rent for the aptly named “Brutalist aesthetic.” There’s a plywood door, porcelain toilet and sink, tiny mirror cabinet, and claustrophobic shower nook– the only bit of personalization is the foldable shelf you and Jack built together so you can do your make-up. While the room was uncomfortable by design, having a moment to himself was necessary to gain back some sanity. 

Jack splashes water in his face and pops a squat on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest and closing his eyes. 

Aliens are apparently real and his girlfriend is one of them. It’s a lot for a sensible guy like Jack to take in especially on a Wednesday. His mind went involuntarily to the engagement ring he had ordered to be made just a few weeks ago before you had suddenly told him you needed to share something serious. But what does you being an alien change– other than his entire understanding of the universe and his place in it? 

Jack blows a heavy breath and stands up, shaking the tingling feeling out of his legs. Leaving the bathroom was the hardest thing he had ever done, and finding you crying silently at the kitchen table surrounded by the Valentine’s Day cupcakes you so lovingly decorated broke his heart. He decides to show no fear. Jack pulls a chair up right next to you and pulls you into his arms. He realizes he can’t feel your "extra appendages" anywhere and his shoulders relax only to add more guilt like a weight in his stomach.  

You cling to him so needily that he rubs your back and shushes you gently. “It’s uhm, it’s going to be okay, sweetheart, but I-I do have questions…” 

Sniffling, you sit up and swipe a hand over your cheek, “of course! Anything.” 

Something about feeling you in his arms, a real being and not a delusion but not entirely the person that he had thought that you were, it allowed him to ground himself further into this new reality. 

“Well what, uhh… how different is your anatomy to, like, humans?” 

Your mouth crooks into a smile and you try to clean your face as you answer. “It’s very similar– well on the outside. I mean if a medical professional cut me open, they’d probably notice something off with my organs. But aside from the extra appendages… no. This face and this body isn’t a facade, it’s all me, there’s just a little bit more.” 

“Okay,” Jack sighs and sinks into your arms furthrr. Then he half jokes, “now, tell me about those tentacles.” 

You laugh and it’s like the fear from earlier evaporates between you two. “They are not tentacles! We have our own words for them, not that it would make sense to you. But I guess if that’s the closest approximation you have in your Human language, then fine, call them tentacles.” 

Growing hungry, the conversation pauses as you take a break to sate your rumbling stomachs and then you both lay down in your bed with the television on mute. Jack brings up the tentacles again and you trace the V-neckline of his scrub shirt as you try to answer. 

“Well, I have five of them, which is pretty standard. To describe them it in Human terms: they have high strength and dexterity, but low health and constitution.” 

“D&D lingo? Very sexy.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle. “We can have kids together, if you are concerned about that. Yes, they will probably have tentacles too and have to be taken to my family’s physician– which is what you should do for me in all future emergencies, by the way. We can have human kids if you really really want, but I don’t think you’re going to be fully on board with the How.” 

“Could you elaborate on that,” Jack asks. 

You boop his nose, “Nope!” 

You both dissolve into laughter and when it dies down, your eyes start to droop. Waiting to have this huge, world altering talk with Jack was beyond nerve racking, and now that it’s over, you are officially drained. Yet Jack seems to have other ideas and he tries to keep you awake with kisses along your neck in spots he knows are sensitive to his touch. 

“You said you have five but you only showed me four,” he whispers against the spot behind your ear. “Am I correct in thinking that that one is different from the others?” 

You hum an affirmative and allow him to turn you over onto your back where he hovers over your side and slips his hand under your shirt. His kisses become more aggressive and he turns your head over to lavish kisses on the other side of your neck. While a part of you hoped he would become comfortable enough with your body to explore newer avenues of intimacy, you had fully expected it to take weeks or months, however the way he is touching you makes you wonder for a second if he erased his own memory of the reveal. 

“What are you doing?” You can’t help but giggle as his hair tickles your skin. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” 

Jack’s warm hand caresses higher, brushing against the edge of your bra as his frenzied kisses continue. “I was thinking about how you made me wait to tell me about your ‘extra appendages’ until the lover’s holiday, and I question how coincidental it is.” 

He lifts his head and wags his eyebrows at you until you cover his face with your hands. 

“No, it’s not like that! It really was an accident,” you say defensively. “That being said, you changed your mind real fast about my tentacles when you started thinking about sex!” 

“Well how do you know I wasn’t into it before? You know, tentacles are getting pretty popular in the human adult film industry…” 

Jack may be mostly teasing, but you suspect there is probably a kernel of truth hidden in his joke; a sort of half admission of interest (which is great for your sex life, all things considered).  Your boyfriend has already proven himself to be pretty adventurous when it comes to sex, always open to experimentation and even suggesting some things himself. But this was a little different from introducing safewords, handcuffs and other instruments into sex… 

“We don’t have to, baby,” you say. You hold his face in your hands so he can look you in your eye as you continue, “I mean, sex is one of many of their functions, but… you aren’t going to hurt my feelings if you want to leave them out of sex, and know that I am not ‘missing out’ on pleasure by doing so. Okay?” 

“I understand what you’re saying… and I want it,” Jack replies, pressing his forehead against yours. You feel the hard line of his cock against your thigh and the fast beating of his heart against your own chest. “I trust you with my body and– if it really is all the same to you– I think I’d like to see what you can with those things.” 

Heat floods up through your belly and into your throat which constricts reflexively. “I just want you to be sure, baby. Promise me you’ll tell me if you want to stop?” 

“Of course,” he replies as he massages your thigh. “We can use the traffic light system or whatever you call it!” 

Finally feeling confident, you both take things slow. Kissing in between discarding clothes, lips connecting wherever you can reach each other as you strip down to your underwear– including when Jack takes down your pants and your underwear at the same time and planting hot kisses on your mound. 

Standing up, Jack folds his glasses and sets them neatly on the nightstand before slipping his underwear down his legs. You watch his stiff cock jet upwards and make a light slap against his stomach before settling, hard and proud. Your bra flies across the room and you lay back again, intent on letting him be on top so as not to make him feel trapped beneath you if he suddenly decided your body was a little too monstrous for his psyche. 

As a test, you wait until Jack is climbing over your body to allow your smaller tentacles to unfurl and reach out to him. It does startle him– he freezes for a second before he settles on his haunches and watches intensely as you lay your them gently against his skin. Your extra limbs are warm to the touch, moisturized but not slimy, and Jack strokes the one climbing up his hip to find it very reactive. 

“Can you feel that?” He knows he probably sounds ignorant, but he says it anyway and watches the curious tentacle curl around his wrist. 

“Yes, I can feel you,” you whisper. “I can feel everything. They’re very sensitive but not as sensitive as…” 

Jack can tell you are prioritizing his comfort and feels grateful for it as his body and mind adjust to the extra stimulation. He does have to remind himself that these things are a part of you and not some unknown entity sharing your body, but the nerves quickly turn to excitement as your tentative exploration becomes bolder. One slithers close to his junk, looping itself around his cock and balls and tightening like a living cock ring which elicits a gasp from him. 

“Color?,” you immediately prompt. 

“Green, very green…” 

Jack becomes obsessed with the way you look now; you were laid out beneath him like an empress on a chaise lounge. You were touching him all over his body even with your hands inert and resting on the pillows beneath your head. A tentacle slinks loosely around his neck leaving him breathless with anticipation. 

“Go on,” he moans and feels the limb become snug and start to pull him forward. Jack is forced to bend forward as he watches you rise to meet him for a kiss. 

But he’s losing his balance and he discovers his hands are bound behind his back. Then something heavy pushes back on his chest and keeps him in the air as your lips meet his for a passionate tangling of tongues. The heavy thing holding him up was almost unnaturally warm and he had to peek at it. What he saw made his cock throb. 

“I know I said it was more sensitive than the others, but did I mention it was bigger, too?,” You tease him, letting him back up to sit and properly marvel at your last secret. 

Your fifth tentacle can only be described as girthy. The end doesn’t taper like the others do, it’s blunted and therefore a little phallic looking, and it carries with it a strength that exists nowhere else in your body. Jack can’t stop wondering if the strange shape of the tip is indicative of a hole or just extra skin. A name for it involuntarily forms in his lust filled mind as it caresses over his body with far more greed than the rest have: the Bully. 

“Green,” Jack wheezes. You hadn’t asked, but he wants you to do something– anything– to him, especially with that thing! 

Your hand ends up in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Easy, baby.” 

You lift yourself again and settle into a different position; this time straddling him and adjusting a smaller tentacle from a makeshift cock ring to a grip that allows you to pump his neglected shaft. The second his hands shift with a need to touch, you release him there too and tease a few more sensitive parts of him. Meanwhile, Jack’s hands find purchase around the Bully, stroking it with reverence and licking his lips in a way you can’t ignore. 

“Jack, do you want to…” 

He’s already opening his mouth and dragging his tongue over the tip and delighting in the way it makes you shiver. Further confirmation that you can feel it, and he’s quick to apply himself to liberally spreading his spit around the appendage and bobbing his head with a practiced motion. 

“God you’re gorgeous, baby. You like having your mouth full, huh?” 

Jack pulls back on the tip to moan a positive response before taking the Bully a little deeper and feeling it bump the back of his throat. That’s when he feels the Bully move by itself, fucking into his mouth and he stops gagging quickly once he’s made the adjustment. Your little noises tell him exactly what he needs to hear and he feels his mind slipping into a submissive headspace which he hadn’t experienced in a while. 

“Good boy, Jack,” you purr and switch so your hand is stroking his cock. “Think you’d want this thing somewhere… else?” You can feel his cock jump in your hand and spread the pre-cum around the skin there. "Fuck, okay, baby. Need you inside me first." 

The Bully pops out of Jack's mouth and he has to blink stars out of his eyes. He hugs you to his chest and peppers kisses all over your neck as you try and maneuver around his clinginess. 

“Babe, that tickles,” you say, and your giggling turns to a gasp as you feel his tip catch at your entrance. “Oh fuck…” 

Jack hisses in your ear as he impales you. “Mh, so tight, sweetheart. Go ahead and relax… that’s it, oh-ho– so perfect.” 

Without letting you go, Jack returns you to the bed and locks his arm around your waist. It takes you a second to find a placement for your legs but you settle on crossing your ankles and digging your heels into the small of his freckled back. Your smaller tentacles tease his ass, feeling the muscles flex as he thrusts shallowly into you. Light sweat coats both your bodies and your tentacles have a special coating that lubricates a little bit better. 

Jack’s panting against your collarbone turns to a whiny moan as his hole is breached and instantly he wants more. You don’t make him wait long and it isn’t until the third slips in that he feels a tightness and stretching. 

Jack’s cock is hitting so deep you feel like it's puncturing your lungs. “G-green, baby?” 

He buries his face in your breasts and groans like an animal, “yesss, fuck, please…” 

The Bully is slippery– Jack can feel it leaving slick trails as it surges and pushes out from the limited space between your bellies. The trail continues as it works around his hip and Jack loses his pace as he feels the other tentacles opening him wider. There’s pressure at his entrance before the Bully– your thick, wet tentacle– breaches the muscles and slips inside. 

For only a moment, all five of your appendages are inside him before the little ones retract but they are barely noticed by Jack, whose mouth falls open and his eyes widen as they lock onto your beautiful face and he feels like he’s being split apart. 

His whole body tenses up, squeezing the intrusion and burying his own cock deeper inside you. Jack takes a few deep breaths and relaxes just enough to let you push in further, and he sucks air between his teeth as he feels the Bully slide deep enough to touch his prostate. 

You watch the myriad of chaotic expressions cross your boyfriend’s face and feel something resembling sadistic entertainment as you watch him try and fail to process all of the pleasure assaulting him. Your clit needs no stimulation with the way his muscles constrict on your extra appendage because they stimulate you the same. 

You hum and stroke your hands over his arms. "So tight, baby. So perfect…" 

Jack bows his head as his body adjusts to the stretch and shivers as he realizes the Bully is so deep it's making his stomach bulge. Black and stars dance at the edges of his vision like a vignette. His brain's ability to function glitches like a computer game with lag, yet his eyes rover over your torso and your face without keeping much of the information beyond pretty, pretty, good, touch, so full, warm.  

You twist the Bully like a key in an ignition and the noise that Jack makes is so loud his face turns beet red. 

"If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to come," you chuckle breathlessly and caress his face.  

Jack's breathing is ragged and he answers by thrusting his hips backwards into the Bully, then thrusting forwards to sheath himself in your guts and repeating mindlessly. The vignette of darkness creeps further into his view and almost begins to obscure his vision of you completely, but he doesn't stop because he's so close and his pleasure transcends all other thoughts and reason. 

Your own moans crescendo over the ringing in his ears and the moment you tight around his sensitive cock, Jack explodes. 

His sack tightens and he pumps hot jets into your womb (he presumes, your anatomy is now a mystery to him), his body shakes with the force of his release and he babbles incoherently until he is hoarse. He feels the Bully pulse inside of him in time with your orgasm and pull out suddenlu just as he collapses into your arms. 

"Holy fucking shit," you pant. 

Jack weighs heavy on your body but you can still breathe it's just a little constricted. Using the heels of your feet, you massage his thighs and rub his back with your hands as you boyfriend comes down from his high. You almost worry that he's somehow suffered a heart attack and died, except for the fact that his heart is still beating. 

"Jack, are you still with me, baby?" He doesn't move a muscle but his breath on your collarbone tells you enough. "Think we're gonna need a nap after that." 

Jack snorts and says in a gravelly voice, "way ahead of you…" 

Needing to move before your legs fall asleep, you roll until you can slide out from under Jack, who falls limp into the space you left behind. You don't do much clean up aside from wiping the cum leaking onto your inner thigh and then you crawl back into bed, taking an extra soft blanket to throw of both of you as the room grows cold. 

"Hey…" Jack reaches out and grasps your thick tentacle (which you had forgotten was still out). "What's all this?" 

You look between him and the limb and back again. "What do you mean?" 

"The, the… spots, there are spots but there weren't spots before…" 

Jack's brow furrows and he runs his thumb over your skin. He hadn't seen anything special color-wise until now– ovalish rings have appeared with black outlines and color changing pulses on the inner edge of the spots, blinking like a psychedelic pattern. Was he tripping right now? 

"Oh!," you snapped your fingers and laugh, "Humans can't typically see these colors which is why, to you, they suddenly appeared. I should have probably mentioned that the mucus on my tentacles acts like a mild hallucinogen. It'll go away in a few minutes, I promise." 

"Christ," Jack rubs his eyes and laughs as you cuddle under his arm. "Now I know what I'm getting myself into! And… I still love you. Tentacles and all."

You tuck yourself deeper into his side and wrap him up in the way you have always longed to, unable to tame the joy on your face and tingling throughout your body. "I love you so damn much, Jack. Happy Valentine's Day."

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

As a writer I have the power of all the gods and no one can stop me from writing freak smut! Like, comment, and reblog if you wanna see more freaky alien sex! BECAUSE I'LL FUCKING DO IT

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Getting Off

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Walter “Keys” McKeys X Female Reader SMUT] the cop arresting you is wearing a cock ring and you get out of trouble by bending over for him. 

Free City AU | 3.5k words | NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Three + Walter McKeys + Ring,” Dubious Consent, Impersonating A Police Officer, Car Theft, Mentions of Toxic On-And-Off Relationship, Infidelity, Vibrating Sex Toy, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Manhandling, Torn Clothes, Size Kink, From Behind, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Creampie (Please Use Protection IRL Use Condoms), Cockwarming

More Valentines! | Other Keery Fics | Main Masterlist 

Stupid fucking car. Stupid money hustling boyfriend. How hard is it to give a fuck about Valentine’s Day? It's one day a year! You have tried everything: begging, screaming, dropping hints like an anvil, sending yourself your own fucking flowers, making the dinner reservations and handing him the fuck details just so he shows up, fucking his best friend. But year after year, February 14th rolls on and your boyfriend does nothing. He was either stealing away to a basketball game, cajoling a client at his day job to buy into one of his entrepreneurships (which would fail like all the others had, or refused to leave the house gym because he had to “get swole.” 

The entrepreneur shit pisses you off the most– you are professional bank robbers! Who needs a legitimate job when crime pays so well?! 

So this year, you stole his favorite car! This particular make and model of super car went from 0 to 90 in a second flat, though you could tell from the way it accelerated and decelerated was weighed down by all the added armor plating. The paint job is obnoxious neon colors with the graphics from his shitty mandom podcast.

Now you could have stepped on the gas when the cop car behind you turned on their lights. You could probably make it by crossing over county lines and out of his jurisdiction. But you have had enough of car chases for a while and pull over instead. As long as your boyfriend hasn't reported it as stolen yet, you’re probably fine. 

A set of knuckles wraps on the window and you roll it down. “Afternoon officer, how can I–” 

“Turn the ignition off,” he interrupts you gruffly and leans down to glare at you. This part of Free City is flat and dry, no shade to hide you from the burning rays of the sun and air conditioning is the only thing keeping you from fainting, but you turn it off anyways, hoping he'll be quick about this stop given he should also be extremely hot, too. 

Slicked back chestnut brown hair and a comb for a mustache. His eyes were hidden by a pair of reflective aviators (of course), his shirt collar was open at the throat in the heat and his white undershirt glowed pristinely. His big, meaty hands were tucked by the thumbs into his utility belt, and your eyes dragged lustfully back up his lean torso to his freckled, handsome face– well he would be handsomer if he wasn’t wearing the meanest fucking scowl. 

“Got a hot date?,” he asks with sarcasm dripping from his voice. “That why you’re driving so fucking fast? 60’s not enough for you?” 

“‘M so sorry officer,” you say, distracted by a light buzzing sound (was that his radio maybe?). “I, like, dropped my phone and stupidly tried to pick it up and my foot pressed down on the gas and, and…” 

His uniform makes you double take. It’s tight on him– you only need to look at the bulge of his crotch to see that– but it’s also the wrong color for this area. That shade of navy blue is reserved for Free City’s urban jurisdiction… but he pulled you over in the sticks, nothing but desert and meth dens and old highways like the one you’re on. He should be wearing khaki, he should be a state trooper or something, right? And what the fucking is that buzzing! 

“Hey,” the weird cop snapped, “I said. License. And registration, ma’am.” 

Shit, shit, shit. It’s not your car and you were driving twice the speed limit and you can get in trouble anyways. “Yeah! Grabbing it! My license… but I should tell you this is my boyfriend's car, that’s why I'm not on the registration.” 

The cop– his name tag says Keys– hums mockingly. He snatches your wallet from your hands and walks back to his patrol car (also weird looking, might be missing decoration on the door but it could just be your position in the sun) without waiting for you to fumble for the registration. Fuck, fuck– this wouldn’t be the first time a cop fucking robbed you, how much cash did you have in that thing this time?!

You check the rearview mirror and see nothing but the cop's head looking down in the driver's seat, possibly entering something into his laptop– fuck again. You’ve got a record– who the fuck doesn’t have a record in this fucking city– so there’s no way you’ll get away with just a warning. Even a speeding ticket was seemingly unlikely given Officer Keys shit attitude. You need to have the registration before he gets back or he’ll become insufferable. 

“Okay,” you take a deep breath to calm down and pull the glove box handle, only to have it fall open and dump paper, dime bags, and guns into the passenger seat and onto the floor. “Oh, motherfucker!” 

There’s a gun– there’s two guns laying on the floor of the car in plain sight and a pissy cop who will be back any minute looking for probable cause to arrest you. You rip your hand back like the guns were going to explode and your blood pressure only raises more when you realize there’s no way to dig anything resembling a registration out of that mess without getting your ass shot. 

Defeated, you cover your face with your hands. Maybe you could get out of the car and drop straight to your knees. It would piss the cop off as he didn’t tell you to get out and he’d obviously fucking shoot at you but maybe he’d just graze you for climbing out instead of unloading his whole fucking clip if he finds you staying– 

A shadow falls over your body, one you feel rather than see as you the boiling directness of the sunlight washes away. “UHm…” 

You hear the cop sigh and pull your car door open. “Step out of the vehicle slowly and with your hands out.” 

The curses flooding your brain overwhelm you. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day! You should be sipping champagne and getting your back blown out in a luxury sized bathtub, not harassed by a city cop in the desert and taking the fall for your loser boyfriend’s coke and unregistered weapons. 

“I said get out of the car!” The cop grabs you with his thick hands (hands that you had, for half a second, wanted on you before you remember he’s a damn cop) wrapped around your thighs to drag you out faster.

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, stop!” Shaking, you hold your hands out in front of you and try your best to roll your body off of your back on the very edge of the seat. He was the one who commanded you to move slowly, but now he was impatient and this time his big hands capture your waist, making you flinch a second before you are ripped upwards into his chest, nearly hitting your head on the low rise of the car cabin door. “I didn’t know that was in there! Jesus Christ!” 

You never expected to feel hatred when a hot man’s body was pressed against your back, but today you’ll make an exception for this prick. High off his authority, officer Keys kicks the car door closed with so much force that a cool breeze kicks up among the dust. Then he slams you bodily into the hot car body and probably delights in the angry shriek that leaves you. 

“You fucking asshole!” All the fear that had been bubbling in you earlier turns to anger for a moment and you try to push off the hot car to free yourself unsuccessfully. 

The cop groans in response– probably the weirdest thing about this exchange, it almost sounds… sexual? “Keep talking, baby. Maybe the courts will give you a nickel and a dime to serve!” 

He forces your arms up and behind your head and starts patting his belt for his handcuffs. He grunts, and this time it sounds repressed, like he was trying to keep it down… that’s when you realize the bump in his tight pants is pressing hard into you… and vibrating. 

Your mouth falls open and dries up instantly in the dry desert air. “...are you wearing a cock ring?” 

“What?” You can still hear him fumbling for the handcuffs, his other hand so tight on your wrists that it hurts. “Shut up.” 

You push back with your hips and feel him counter you– and you would have believed it was just him being pissy about you not holding still, if it weren’t for the way his hips roll at the end. Effectively rubbing his very hard cock into your ass to get some friction. It’s embarrassing when it suddenly feels like the hot air around you is suddenly inside of you, spinning into a ball and writhing like fighting cobras in your gut. 

You desparately need a way out of this dilemma and you may have found it. “Fuck me…” 

The cop hummed, slapping a silver cuff on your wrist. “What did you say?” 

“I said–” you pull your arms until your elbows graze the painfully hot roof of the car. Because your motion was unexpected, the cop startles and freezes when he feels your head lay on his shoulder. You can peer past his sunglasses at his indignant, brown eyes. “Fuck. Me. I don’t want to go to jail for my trash boyfriend, and you don’t want to be suspended for sexual deviancy on the job, do you? Win–Win.” 

“Who said I wanted to fuck you, huh?” The cop, less angry and more amused now, tightens the other cuff to your wrist and braces his hand on your chest. “If you’re stupid enough to steal your boyfriend’s car full of illegal shit and get pulled over, who’s to say you're not stupid enough to give me a venereal disease, you little slut?” 

You pout. “... I didn’t steal his car and I don’t have a disease. And don’t fucking call me a slut!” 

But officer Keys just laughs at your indignance. “Open your mouth for me, cupcake.” 

You do what he says cautiously and are instantly gagged by his fingers. You can taste dust on his dry skin as well as something foul like oil. It’s entirely reactionary when your teeth close around the intrusion, and officer Keys grunts and draws them back but not fully out. Now that you know what to expect, it only takes a second to relax and allow him to press his fingers deeper into your mouth again, struggling to fight back your gag reflex and remember how to take it. He’s testing you but it doesn’t take long for you to ease into it, even sucking on them and swirling your tongue for him. 

“Atta girl,” the cop purrs, “yeah, yeah. Oh, I can work with this. You can deepthroat, right? You’re gonna need to be able to swallow the whole sword.” 

You nod your head and then find yourself suddenly unbalanced. The officer’s fingers pull free with a wet pop and he takes a massive step back from where he was crushing you against the car. You are stopped from falling by the very strong grip that takes hold at the back of your neck and he commands you to drop to your knees. Hot car, hot pavement, by the end of this, you’re going to have burns and bruises. You delicately squat instead of kneeling, wishing you had your knee pads or a jacket to throw down for protection but Keys is already unbuckling his belt. 

Your lip curls impatiently as you wait for him to finish pulling his dick out. A part of you wants to smack the sunglasses right off his face or pull his gun and shoot him, but you know it’ll do you no good in the long run. And as he uncovers his junk, the sound of vibrating gets louder. There's a wet patch on his underwear that you immediately forget about when he pulls the waistband down and his fat cock pops up. 

"Jesus Christ–"you gasp and try to protect your mouth, turning away from the sight before you but unable to tear away completely. 

It appears Keys is a meticulous groomer below the belt, too. The cock ring is glittery cyan blue, a ring around his balls and another around his cock making them both flushed red and veiny. You watch him twist the vibrating plate around his swollen flesh and use his other hand to pull back his foreskin. 

"Hey! Tick tock, cupcake," he says as he winds his hand in your hair and starts to pull you forward. "I'm on the clock and we're running out of daylight." 

Time to work for your freedom.  

Gathering saliva in your mouth, you wrap a hand around the base (fuck, your fingers don’t touch your thumb) and with your other hand still cuffed, you push the vibrating plate to his balls. Keys pulls his phone from his pocket and turns up the vibe via remote app, causing his hips to jerk and leave a wet smear of pre-cum under your nose. 

“Okay deep breath, baby.” The hand in your hair pushes you forward and despite the warning, you still gag when he slides right back and hits the back of your throat. “Uho, more.” 

He barely pulls back to let you suck in a new breath before he’s back at it, pushing you down on him despite your squirming resistance until your nose is buried in his short pubes. Your hands drop to his thighs and your nails leave red scratches on the pale white skin, tears gathering on your lashes until you are able to take one shaking breath through your nose. 

You should be mad, but the simpering whine he makes fills you with pride instead. It was impressive for you to take all that cock on one go. Your sex pulses with need and you don’t even notice your knees are on the hot pavement. 

“Swallow, baby, come on,” he praises as he looks down at you, his sunglasses moved off his sweaty nose to his head so he can better. 

Your jaw aches fiercely but you manage to obey and Keys’ moans at the feeling of your throat constricting his length. “Good girl, fuck.” 

Finally, Keys releases you and you’re able to gasp and cough and catch your breath while you stroke him to keep him happy. Your preferences for servicing him begin to shift as you feel your underwear slicken and stick to your outer lips. The last time you had good dick was probably that bank bathroom mid-heist (that janitor was packing just like this). This cop may be a complete asshole and a pervert, but damn it a huge dick was always going to do something for you! 

“Officer?” Keys looks down at you with slight disdain. He does admire the glistening drool on your chin and the wetness of your lashes, and he’s quickly distracted by your leaning back to squeeze your breast over your top. You’re going to ask him for something he fully intends to deny you until… 

“I’m so wet, please please…” you bite your lip unconsciously and make him watch you touch yourself to tell him about your soaked panties. “You can fuck me as hard as you want, don’t even need a condom, baby, please…” 

Officer Keys seemed to like the sound of that very, very much. He hauls you to your feet and walks you backwards twenty feet to his patrol cruiser. Still handcuffed, you can’t do much except obey and try not to trip over your own feet and fall. He keeps a tight hand on your arm as he swings open a door in the back before shoving you in halfway. You feel him yank your bottoms down your thighs and spit on your slick and puffy folds. 

“O-ho, baby,” he cooes almost mockingly and runs a calloused thumb over your clit, “how bad did you need to be fucked? You are one lucky girl that I pulled you over, aren’t you?” 

You try to answer him but he smacks your pussy and you shriek instead. 

“Just breathe, sweetheart,” he says, stroking his length still dripping with saliva, “nice and easy…” 

And then you feel the head of his cock pressed against your entrance and realize he is not going to stretch you out first even with that monster. On a long exhale, you force your body to relax but still you squeal a little as you feel him begin to fill your channel. For all his perverse snarling and coldness, he does exhibit some level of mercy as he doesn’t make you take too much all at once. It’s still a bit of a painful stretch but he moves slowly right up until he bottoms out inside you and growls loudly. 

“Goddamn!” You feel him grind against your hips and the cock ring vibe bumps your clit adding pleasure over the slight pain. “Haven’t fucked a pussy this tight since the Penris Bank robbery.” 

He starts moving in you, but your mind is somewhere else. Penris Bank has only ever been successfully robbed once in thirty years. You did that– I mean, you and your crew did that. Walked away with 20 mil each. Okay, your crew robbed the bank while you got your back blown out in the executive office bathroom suite. Hold the fucking phone– 

“Oh my god, you’re not a fucking cop!” In the blink of an eye, you realize how blind you’ve been. How could you forget that dick? Just because it was cosplaying as a police officer? So stupid. “Fucking asshole!” 

You try to struggle out of his grasp, but Janitor Keys adjusts his grip on your hips and lifts you up until your legs are kicking uselessly and he’s spear heading his cock into your g-spot. And as angry as you are, you can’t resist the coiling fire in your gut turning your arms to jelly or punching some high pitched moans out of you. 

“That’s it, kitten, purr!” Keys laughs and fucks you faster. “You missed this dick, huh baby?” 

You grumble and he smacks your ass so hard it stings. “I can’t hear you, bitch, did you miss this dick?!” 

“Yes,” you cry and drop your chin to your chest and throw your head back when he starts furiously circling your clit. “Yes, fuck! No one fucks me like you do–” 

“Fucking A’ right, baby…” 

Your feet find purchase on the car floor allowing you to brace against the heavy assault and push back, taking him even deeper. If a car packed full of people wolf whistling and shouting obscenities drove by, you hardly noticed, except for Keys' prideful wave as they disappeared. 

"Fuck, fuck," your stomach tightened painfully and tears gathered on your lashes. The bumping of the cock ring vibe slapping against your clit does you in and you collapse, gushing all over your partner's cock and soaking his pants. 

You feel lightheaded as you are gently laid out in the backseat of the faux cop car on your stomach with Keys cock still deep inside you. It only takes him three or four thrusts before he stills with a grunt and pumps you full of his cum. One of his hands rubs your back just like he had done when he finished on your stomach at the bank. 

Damn, you really had missed him. 

Catching your breath, you lift your head and turn a bit, then smack him across his face. Keys looks at you wide eyed, sunglasses gone and fake mustache peeling off his upper lip. 

"Ow…" He swallows and ducks his head to mumble, "okay, I guess I deserved that. Sorry."

You lay your head on your arms, feeling exhaustion wash over you as the role play ends. 

"...you know if you want, you can come over to my place and uh," Keys voice drifts off as he traces shapes on the soft skin between your shoulder blades. "I've got this huge bathtub in my penthouse thanks to the cut you gave me. We can, I dunno, throw some rose petals everywhere and drink champagne since it's Valentine's day." 

You lift your head again and give him a puzzled look. "Why would you do that?" 

Keys is a great actor because the way he blushes now is so sincere that you almost forget he was manhandling you not five minutes ago. 

"Because I like you, and you deserve it…?" 

Well, if your shit boyfriend wasn't going to spend Valentine's day with you… "fuck it, sure. But you need to clean this up and tell me what the fuck you are doing in a cop uniform!" 

Keys finally pulls his overstimulated cock out, leaving you empty and leaking but he massages your sore flesh to ease the slight pain. "Happy to tell you everything! We've got all night, if you want." 

And he leans over you one more time to plant a kiss on your temple before climbing back to eat his cum out of you. 

It looks like you are in for a great Valentine's day!

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

So I was deadass going to scrap this entire fic several times, but I feel like I managed to work around the whole "fucking a cop" aspect. Drop a like if you liked this and leave a comment or anon ask if you wanna let me know what you liked about it!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Fire Hazard

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Kurt Kunkle X Female Reader SMUT] You’re having second thoughts about what you want from your boyfriend. 

No Murder AU | 5.3k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day Two + Kurt Kunkle + Candles,” Established Relationship, Mild Angst, Dog (Kurt’s Pet Pitbull), Brief Baby Talk, Public Displays of Affection, Groping, Mentions of Vaping and Substance Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Banter, 69ing, Double Penetration (dildo), Rough Sex, Subspace, Choking, Squirting, No Contraceptives, Dangerous Emergency Conditions, Caught Naked. 

More Valentines! | Just Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

You had been dating Kurt since the previous summer. Dating was starting to feel like an inappropriate word for it as you both acted a little more like teens fooling around rather than young adults courting. The unconventionality of it didn’t bother you originally! What you have with Kurt feels extremely passionate compared to previous relationships. It feels equal and mutual. His parents sucked, so why would you want to be introduced to them? You’re both strapped for cash, so why go out for a fancy dinner? It wasn’t a relationship based purely on sex nor was it lacking, so what is there to improve upon? But eventually, you started looking around you and seeing some metaphorical tiles missing from your roof. 

All of this turmoil is on your mind as you stand outside your favorite taco stand where Kurt told you to meet him. Your old school rival just posted a picture of her and her new boyfriend captioned: all I wanted for Valentine’s Day was flowers and a card, but this guy went all out cooking my favorite meal and playing a love song. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN HE LEARNED TO PLAY VIOLIN HAHA

The tweet only makes your ire worse as you stand in the February cold shaking in your skirt and ankle boots. You called your most sensible friend to see if they could talk you down. 

“Ooh no, what’s wrong?,” they joked as they picked up. You spit words at a rapid fire rate trying to explain how your relationship suddenly didn’t feel serious anymore with concerns that Kurt might be an incompatible partner for you. When you finally ran out of breath, your friend took a wise, deep breath and answered, “I think you might be catastrophizing, babe. Relationship 101 says you gotta communicate to him what you need in order to feel happy. Have you talked to him yet?” 

“...no,” you replied sheepishly. “I don’t know how to say what I mean without making it sound like I’m breaking up with him, though.” 

“Look babe, you don’t actually know if he’ll react poorly. Just remember to communicate and compromise with him. Don’t let your anxiety drive you crazy.”

You sigh in relief and throw your head back. “See this shit is exactly why you need to be a counselor!” 

The beep, beep, beep of the phone hanging up leads you to laugh (its a common rib among your friends, as is hanging up after hearing shitty puns) and you fire off a real text thanking them for their advice. The cold is almost all but forgotten when you hear a car honking and pulling up at the empty spot on the curb. It’s Kurt in his silver prius giving you a happy little wave wearing the hoodie you left in his car and a Kurtsworld96 beanie. 

As you walk up to his window trying to prepare yourself for the Talk, Kurt rolls down the window and yells, “hi babe! Happy Valentine’s Day! Come here, I’ve got something for you!” 

You make it to the passenger side door and have to turn your head in confusion. “... are there candles in your car?” 

Kurt opens your door from the inside and waves you in frantically. As you climb in, the hair on your arms stands up even more when you realize how many candles there actually are. Thankfully they aren’t lit but they are placed like he intends to. You feel Kurt press a kiss to your ear. 

“Hey, to all my new Kurties out there, this is not a joke! This is my real actual girlfriend!” 

Your heart sinks. Fuck, he’s streaming right now? How could you forget that he streams basically everything? You cannot have this serious conversation with the internet watching. Plus you’re still mad about the ‘fans’ who made a comprehensive foot cam compilation video from streams and your instagram and your mom's facebook album (yes, they included your childhood pics, the sick fucks). You’re still blocking DMs asking you for feet pics at least five times a day. 

You don’t hear a single word coming out of Kurt’s mouth as you round on him so fast he freezes like a deer in headlights. “Turn the stream off. Now, Kurt.” 

Kurt sputtered. “I-I, you said–” 

“I know!” You had half heartedly agreed to let him stream part of your date the week before. “I know what I said but… just turn it off now, please.” 

Kurt looks like a kicked puppy as he nods and mumbles some sort of promise to update his viewers later, then ends the stream. He looks up at you through his lashes and squirms uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. 

“Can you drive to the Wok, please? The one I like…” 

“Are we going to talk about–” 

“Yes! But I don’t want to talk about it in the car,” you interject and slump into your seat. 

The whole ride is pure, disquieting silence. You know Kurt’s racking his brain trying to figure out how to apologize even though he hasn’t done anything wrong and you mentally kick yourself. This was exactly the thing you didn’t want to happen, you knew you would fuck up and snap at him all because of your own anxiety. You just need to force yourself to be quiet and try to calm down. 

Your steaming silence fuels Kurt to tiptoe around you– something he has never done before with anyone. He parks and ushers you inside, bouncing on the balls of his feet and so nervous that the host who tries to seat you raises an eyebrow. You ask for a private table and a pot of tea. The table you are given has a nice red privacy curtain and optional seating. Sighing, you throw yourself onto the bean bag and scurry to pull your skirt back down. 

Kurt sits himself delicately on the edge of a neighboring bench and hesitantly asks, “...can I sit with you?” 

Of course you hold your arms out to him like a moody toddler demanding to be coddled and Kurt complies with visible relief. He pulls you up so he can settle next to you, cuddling but aware of the public setting beyond the curtain. 

"Okay so… what's going on?," he asks quietly. 

You sigh and melt further into his side, still unsure about how to voice your concern. You are saved by the return of the server who took your food order. And now nothing stood in your way, you just have to say it. 

"I…" you swallow your fear and try to meet his eyes. "I… feel… like you don't take our relationship seriously." 

Kurt balked as if you had slapped him. "What do you mean?!" 

"What I mean is that…" you want to back peddle your statement so much but you need to move forward. Go! Forward! "I mean that I love you, but… I hate that we only have sex in your car." 

"Oh well–" 

"I'm not finished, Kurt! Shush!" Your boyfriend closes his mouth and tries to stay quiet until your direction. "I hate that you only fuck me in your car and I hate that we only play videogames at our own homes for your streams and I hate when we go to influencer parties just so you can get tagged in one picture and stay for hours even though we both want to go home." 

You can't look him in the eye as your problem becomes clearer in your own head. "I don't hate you, Kurt. I don't want to see other people or whatever. I just… want to do everything about the day-to-day differently!" 

Kurt blinked. You had summarized your entire relationship in three short activities. The only part of your relationship that wasn't uploaded to the internet was your sex life and that is only because you asked him not to. You weren't asking him for money or clout or to meet his family. You just wanted more of him. 

"I can do that," Kurt said half to himself. He bumped his head into yours and held your gaze as he said, "we can do that, we can do more. Whatever you want, babe, I promise!" 

Relief washes over you and your food order arrives in time for you both to dig in. A part of you is still skeptical that lasting changes will be made, but time will tell if he'll make good on his promise to be more exciting with the relationship and not fall back and demand you go back to the 'easy' stuff. 

You catch him typing up a tweet and he lets you read it before he sends it. It’s just an apology to his viewers and official announcement of the canceled Valentine’s Day stream with the reason of wanting to spend unpressured quality time with his girlfriend. You split the bill on a full belly and broke away to use the bathroom, texting a thank you to your advice friend and letting them know your talk worked out. 

Kurt was waiting for you by the woman’s bathroom door and kissed you as soon as you exit. He throws an arm around your shoulder as you walk out and head back to his car which is still buried in dozens of candles. He hurries forward and in a flourish, opens the passenger door for you. It’s cheesy, sure, but cute and it does make you feel a little special. 

“Gah, I need to get rid of these,” he says as he has to pick a few up from the driver’s side floor and throw them in the back. “Do you mind coming to my house real quick? I’ll dump them and then we can do whatever you want to do today, okay?” 

… 

Kurt's house is just fifteen minutes away and you chat about nothing the whole way but still end up making plans for a stream next week and an un-streamed nature trip. It isn't until he pulls up into his driveway that you feel those butterflies return to your stomach. 

You really don't wanna meet his parents, at least not today. You know it will put your boyfriend in a bad mood anyways, but Kurt insists they shouldn't be home. He also ushers you to go inside and let him clean up by himself. 

Kurt gives you the house key and you let yourself in, creeping quietly around the bungalow and checking every room for signs of life. Aside from a sleepy pitbull in the laundry room, no one's home. You catch your breath and help yourself to a drink from the fridge, picking from things you hope are Kurt's. 

Meanwhile, Boyfriend runs back and forth carrying bundles of candles in his arms, some of which fall to the ground and nearly break. The dog joins in and almost trips him causing you to laugh and get a glare in return. 

You don't remember falling asleep on his couch but you are awoken by a hot tongue. "...I hope that's the dog." 

"It is," Kurt says as he leans over the back of the couch like he's been watching you sleep. "Ready to start a real date, sleeping beauty?" 

…

The mall is a little eccentric tourist attraction and your date starts with a brand new romantic movie playing at the theater. The least packed room still has rows and rows of couples and loud kids and couples with loud kids. You and Kurt get some decent-ish seats and buckle down with all the snacks you snuck in. You are practically sitting in the same seat, your legs thrown over his and his arm around your shoulders and his other hand very unsubtly groping your upper thigh in between popping popcorn and candy into his mouth. 

The movie starts and the lights come down, but the noisy crowd never truly goes quiet and the littlest kids scream in disgust every time a kiss happens. You slap Kurt with a twizzler and he retaliates by taking a bite out of it. 

Your mouth brushes against his ear as you whisper. "Are you going to tell me why it took you an hour to get those candles out of your car?" 

With a sly smile, Kurt just shrugs and squeezes your breast which earns him a scolding from an annoyed movie goer who caught him. After the movie ends (so stupid, 10/10), you race each other to the bowling alley and get kicked out for vaping indoors (Kurt’s fault entirely), then enter a few expensive clothes shops to try things on which almost ends with you getting dicked down in a changing room. It’s dark out when you hit up a Baskin Robbins for ice cream before heading back to his house. 

Your face aches from smiling so much. In the car, Kurt pulls a bullet vibrator out of the center console and hands it to you. When you don’t move, he pushes your hand closer to you. 

“What? It’s clean,” he says. 

“I know it’s not clean, Kurt.” You turn it on and slip it in his pocket just as a red light turns green and watch with glee as he squirms the rest of the way back to his house. 

…

Somehow– possibly due to distraction from such a blessedly fun day and anticipating sex that wasn’t in a car for once– you missed the fact that the house had lights on. Kurt was grabbing something he forgot in his trunk and you waltzed up ahead and entered the house’s side door. Instantly you are greeted by Kurt’s pitbull, waggling its tailless butt and bouncing from foot to foot. 

“Hi baby! Hi!,” you coo and crouch just inside the doorway, both trying to block it and trying to get further inside which is easier said than done with a dog this strong. “Are you happy to see me? Oh, so happy! Are you doing a happy little dance with your happy little feet?! Happy, happy feet! Oh the happiest little feet!” 

The dog howls in song and you imitate it playfully, only to realize there’s a middle aged man in sweatpants watching you from the kitchen. Embarrassed, you stop howling and push the dog gently across the tiles and manage to shut the door properly, hoping it doesn’t obstruct Kurt. The unknown man has lots of grays in his patchy facial hair and looks at you with confusion and disbelief, like you’re a hooligan interrupting a rich man’s dinner. 

Fuck, this is totally Kurt’s dad! “...hi. I’m… Kurt’s girlfriend… he let me come over…” 

“Oh,” Kurt’s dad– what the fuck is his name?- let his guard down and you wonder if he might have been calling the cops. “Well, uh, hi. It’s nice to finally meet you…” 

You give him your name and Mr. Kunkle nods. “Where is Kurt, by the way? I kind of need to talk to him?” 

As if hearing his name, Kurt appeared behind his father. You give him a look and he just says he was upstairs. 

“Hey,” Mr. Kunkle is clearly slurring his words, “you know the club by the McDonalds with the playhouse? I need you to take me there, I have a gig tonight.” 

You have never seen Kurt angry before. It scares you. Mr. Kunkle’s substance abuse problems are legitimately the only things you know about him and it hadn’t occurred to you until now the drunken sway he seemed to have just standing still, he looked like he was standing on the deck of a pirate ship. And he’s going to fuck up everything… 

“Oh, you can just take the car!,” you shout abruptly. 

“What,” the men ask simultaneously. 

Thinking fast, you cross the kitchen and nearly push Mr. Kunkle out of your way, snatching Kurt’s keys from his pocket and shoving them into Mr. Kunkle’s hands before beginning to push him towards the front door. 

“Yeah, absolutely! We wouldn’t want you to be late or anything! And you know, Kurts been sick ever since we left the mall, he should really be on the toilet or maybe in the shower in case he pukes!” 

“What the fuck–” you stifle Kurt’s protests with a hand in his face and continue to shove Mr. Kunkle out the door. 

“HAVE FUN, SIR!” –and then you slam the door, finally alone. 

“Are you crazy? He can’t be driving my car, what you thinking,” Kurt gets in your face as you start to push him towards the stairs. 

“I was thinking we can have sex without company!” Kurt stops resisting you and lets you bully him to move faster, taking the second door on the left into his bedroom with a mysterious warm glow. “I was thinking I didn’t want your dad walking in on us naked and sucking each others… K-Kurt, did you do this?” 

Inside the room was quite small and contained a closet, a mattress and bedding on the floor, and a computer desk and dozens and dozens of lit candles. Arranged in a line on the edge of the desk and in clusters around the bed where they were arranged in groups of four and “stabilized” by makeshift candle holders (read: dinner plates). Smells like something woodsy (Sandalwood? Palo santo? Cedar?), hinting sweet (Mango or Apricot?) and something flowery (rose probably) hung in the air like a thick warm blanket, almost chokingly and it makes you want to open his window. 

“Kurt when did you…” you turn to him for an answer and find him reaching around you to unzip your jacket and slip it off your shoulders. 

“I did it while you were talking to my dad.” Kurt’s hands slide over your belly and he pulls you back against his body, swaying gently. “Do you like it? I tried to pick your favorites.” 

“And that’s really sweet, baby, but… this is a fire hazard.” 

Kurt scoffed. “Come on, babe, it’s not that serious! They’re not even touching the carpet!” 

“I know but they’re also not far from the carpet and fuck there’s a lot of them– hold on a second, let go real quick–” you dance around the candles and throw open his window as wide as you can get it without setting yourself on fire. “Holy shit, fresh air.” 

“Jesus, just–” Kurt catches you by your hip and picks you up to lay you on the bed, “- can you turn your brain off for a second and let me love on you? Please?” 

Sprawled beneath him, you think about it. “...no cameras, right?” 

Kurt groans louder and gets off the bed. He blows out a couple candles that nearly burn his arm as he reaches for the computer mouse to show you that nothing is being recorded. Instead, as the monitor comes awake so does the speaker, both playing the sights and sounds of some twenty-something chick getting railed by two guys. Kurt swears, slapping the keyboard in a hurry to turn it off but you’re already laughing at him. 

“Okay! Point proven,” you giggle and kick your shoes off, careful to set them between the candles. “Geez, maybe we should invite one of your friends over and try that.” 

“Fuck no.” Kurt slips his shirt over his head and tosses it carelessly, narrowly missing the candles and both of you wince. When he unbuckles his belt, he’s looking around for space to put his clothes and settles for under the desk. “‘M not fucking sharing you with anybody.” 

“Aww,” you say as you unhook your bra and shuck your tights off without tearing them. “What about a dildo?” 

Kurt nods as he unzips his jeans, your eyes immediately drawn to the bulge in his boxers. “I can do that, yeah. I think I got one, lemme look. Keep getting naked!” 

Your boyfriend digs through his closet and you lie back and wait with one hand on your breast and the other between your legs, sighing contently as you finally give yourself that much needed attention that you’ve been aching for since lunch. Kurt crawls back into bed and sets the belt and toy aside before leaning on his hands and kissing you passionately. You can still taste the rocky road on his tongue from the ice cream shop, and wrap both your arms around his neck to keep him close. 

Kurt does shake your kiss off to ask, “did I hear you say something about sucking each other off?” 

It isn’t long before you’ve switched positions– with you on top but facing the other way, Kurt’s soft locks brushing your sensitive inner thighs while you hunker down, elbows on his hips and mouth watering. Kurt's thighs shake as you wrap your hand around him, the cold of your palm and fingers touching and stretching back the burning hot velvety skin of his shaft. 

With his lips against your clit, he moans. His wide hands slide up over your ass and squeeze your cheeks, drawing your center closer so his tongue can skim and tease other parts of you, slipping between your folds and tasting your slick. 

"More Kurt, please." 

Kurt obliges by wetting a few fingers with his mouth and pushing them into your channel down to the knuckle. 

You gasp, spit dripping out of your mouth and onto his cock, which you use to quickly coat him in and lick his tip, taking the salty pre-cum and mixing it with more spit and using your hand to spread it back down to his root and over his sack. 

Impatient, Kurt bucks his hips and gags you, the tip of his cock knocking lightly against the roof of your mouth. He sighs into your throbbing clit and inserts a finger into your ass alongside the ones fucking your pussy. 

"Kurt,” you cough, “don’t want you to come yet…” 

He smacks your ass with the hand he was fucking your pussy with. “Get up then, babe. Can you get on all fours for me?” 

“Sure,” you reply, then lay back down on your belly and second guess yourself. 

Kurt focuses on lubing the dildo and figuring out how he wants to wear it. It’s cute the way his brow furrows and his lip curls, not a single real thought passing through in his brain. You pull on his wrist and take it from him by the pink shaft, and he kisses you in thanks with a strong hand on the back of your neck. 

“Hey!” You throw Kurt down on the bed, his hair flopping over the corner of his mattress. His surprise changes to want as you straddle him so his happy trail tickles your sex. His voice drops deeper as he hums, “heyyy…” 

“Stop fucking around and put this on,” your giggling turns into a laugh when you gently slap him with the dildo and he sputters indignantly. “Oh my god, your face!” 

You laugh yourself into tears while Kurt wipes the lube that was streaked across his cheeks. He grumbles as he wraps the belt of the harness around his hips and ends up just as confused as before because usually you’re the one wearing this and it’s made to be strapped between your legs too but if he wants to use his cock too he has to wear it upside down but won’t it slip around when you’re fucking and and– 

Kurt doesn’t notice you’re moving until he feels warmth envelop his hard, red cock. He looks down with wide eyes, taking you all in– arms propped behind you, legs firmly planted forward and your hips rising and falling like a perverted crab walk where you work his girth deeper into your hole. 

Kurt pouts, “I wanted to fuck your pussy…” 

You answer by taking him all the way to the hilt and lean forward with a mischievous head tilt and reply, “well this way, you don’t have to wear the condom you didn’t grab!” 

Fair enough, he does like raw dogging. Finally, the dildo is secured over his pubs and he helps you lift up to put the tip in your pussy and sink down slowly. His hands are nearly bruising with the strength of his grip and the muscles in his arms strain because he needs you to go slow, doesn’t want to stop or pause because you hurt yourself taking too much too fast. He gulps as he feels the tip massage the top of his shaft through the thin membrane wall until you’re sat down again, properly filled. 

When the two of you first became intimate, Kurt quickly came to learn that you are a tough bitch to overwhelm. The first time he pulled your hair, the first time he gagged you on his cock, the first time he groped your naked breast and bit your shoulder as he came (all occurrences performed inside of his car), you barely flinched. Unfazed by his roughness and admitting which ones you loved and which ones you would merely allow. He felt like he could never really surprise you in a good way, that he might never truly wow you during sex. 

But right now? Right now you are entirely dependent on him to hold you upright. He doesn’t remember how but he’s got your arm in one hand and pulling tight to keep you from flopping over. Your breaths are shaking, whining, eyes unfocused and rolling, sweat glistening in the candlelight. He manages to pull you forward enough to catch you with a steadying hand against your collarbone, hand spanning wide thumb at the hollow of your throat and fingers curling on your shoulder. 

“You okay, baby?,” he asks. You nod weakly, and he hesitantly suggests, “you feel full?” 

Your answer is a pitiful whine. He has never seen you like this, so lust drunk, he doesn’t have the words to describe what is happening to you. Either way, it’s making him throb inside you. When you can support yourself (both hands planted on his hairy, sweaty chest), he caresses your body from belly to thighs. 

“You wanna lie down? Babe?” He pets your forehead hoping you’ll open your eyes and you do, still floating but also tethered, like a balloon on a string. “You okay?” 

“M okay,” your words are slurred. “No, I wanna be up, ‘kay…” 

You start your little dance slowly. Your hips move in circles, adjusting to the dual sensation of penetration. Kurt watches you in awe. He helps you transition to lazy thrusts, biting into his bottom lip to keep himself from finishing too quickly. He loves seeing you like this. It’s not the first time you’ve ridden him but fuck, you were right that fucking on a bed is better than the cramped confines of a prius. He could actually lean back and see all of you, no fear of getting charlie horses while he’s trying to blow your back out. Just your bouncing naked tits and messy hair and no concern of being arrested for public indecency. 

“Harder, Kurt,” you beg breathlessly. 

“Fuck… okay baby…” 

Kurt can barely hold onto you, his hands too slippery for a proper grip so he moves up to your waist and begins to thrust into you. The harder he drives himself and the dildo into you, the louder the sounds that punch out of your chest. But you’re not close enough to orgasm while he’s teetering on the edge, and while he's not put off by overstimulation, he prefers to experience it as a consequence of your sadism which he's not gonna get with your current mindless state. 

"Hey," Kurt pats your cheek and shakes you in order to gain your attention. "Hey!" 

He sits up unexpectedly and traps you against his chest. Between the sickly sweet heat from the candles, their overworked bodies, and the cold breeze, feeling Kurt's hot body against your stark cold nipple made you hiss and try to squirm away. 

"What?, you snap, finally coming back to yourself. 

"There you are! Pay attention, I'm trying to make you come," he scolds you. 

Before you can say anything back, his hand slips between you and roughly begins circling your neglected clit, making you gasp. Your ass constricts around his raw cock and he falls back onto the bed as a new flood of adrenaline flows through him. 

"Come on, baby…" 

One slight angle adjustment later and your body shudders involuntarily. Kurt isn't sure if it's your g-spot, but he's ready to find out. His hand comes around your throat roughly as he drills into you faster and harder, reveling in the feeling of your throat constricting under his hand. 

Your last noise is a wet gurgle as your eyes roll back before you come, showering his lower half in liquid and fluttering tightly on him. Kurt empties his sack quickly while you're still being rocked by aftershocks before he lowers you across his chest and pulls out. 

“Holy shit that was good,” Kurt pants and chuckles at your lazy grunt. 

“Is something burning?,” your voice is muffled by the sheets. 

“Yeah, fucking candles– OH FUCK!” 

Well shit, the carpet is on fire. Maybe catching so quickly as it fell on one of the many mystery stains in the room. Frantically, you climb off of Kurt and start using your fingers to pinch other candles out, looking over your shoulder to see the fire is growing rather slowly. 

“WHAT DO WE DO?” 

“HOSE, GET A HOSE.” 

Kurt leaps over the other lit candles and disappears out the door. You stand up and swipe a discarded flannel shirt to wear before following him– and running directly into his dad again. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Mr. Kunkle tries not to look at your nearly nude figure and barely manages to step out of the way before Kurt comes barrelling back to you, handing off the unattached garden hose. 

“Attach this end to the bathroom sink and turn it on. Now, Kurt!” 

You wait by the still open door and watch the free fire consume a plate full of candles and catch on edge of the mattress. The heat is getting more intense as precious seconds tick by waiting for a signal from Kurt. So of course an older woman appears also in the house who you have to presume is Kurt's mom and she had clearly seen the fire from outside judging by her hysterics. 

"I got it!," Kurt finally shouts above the roar of the fire and you squeeze the trigger, dousing his entire bedroom in gallons of water until the last orange flame is extinguished. 

Kurt stands behind you looking dumbfounded. "Holy shit…" 

Your boyfriend's mom is red in the face. "You are in so much trouble, Kurtis. And put some fucking clothes on, young man!" 

Suddenly feeling self conscious, you rewrap the flannel around your naked body and tip toe into the room to see how bad the damage is. The carpet is completely fucked: black and filling the room with some awful chemical smell that was probably going to delete some brain cells the longer you inhale it, and where the edges are browned, there is also candle wax from those fallen and consumed. 

You had tried to keep the nozzle down and while the fire hadn't crept towards his computer desk, you may have fucked up the tower anyways with the spray. The mattress could technically still be slept on and suffered the least amount of damage. 

But considering the fact that the bedroom is littered with evidence of sheer stupidity, you know neither of you are going to be able to make up any real excuses for this. 

You gave Mr. Kunkle an awkward thumbs up and toss him a pair of boxers you found in Kurt's closet, then push the door closed as you are determined not to spend any more time barely clothed in front of his parents. And while you are sure that you will not be invited back into the house anytime soon (if ever), you smile to yourself knowing you ultimately got what you wanted for Valentine's Day.

More Valentines! | Main Masterlist

Am I proud of this one? Yeah! Is it good? ...uh I plead the fifth, its dirty and thats all that matters to me. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog to show this fic some love if you wanna see more of this!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Clinomania

❤ A Valentine's Day Special! ❤

Summary || [Steve Harrington X Female Reader SMUT] Your devoted boyfriend gets creative waking you up on Valentine's day morning. 

Your Boyfriend Steve | 2.5k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Valentine’s Day Theme, Prompt: “Day One + Steve Harrington + Chocolate,” Established Relationship, Glasses!Steve, Food Play (Hershey’s Kisses Chocolate), Morning Sex, Body Worship, Foot Massage, Breast Humping, Oral Sex (male receiving), Anal Fingering (male receiving), Aftercare. 

More Valentines! | Just Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

Your friends laughed at you– laughed!– when you bought a new mattress. 

"Don't you sleep at Steve's house most nights?," Jonathan inquired. 

"No, she passes out at her desk because she’s a workaholic," Robin teased. 

"You're wasting money on a bed when you should be saving up for an apartment," Nancy chastised. 

"What you’re really wasting is a perfectly good mattress," said Eddie, but he stopped grumbling the second you told him he could have your old one. 

"I think you just keep doing you, girl," Argyle added from over the phone and then proceeded to describe how he was holding both of his thumbs up. 

But you picked one from a top rated brand and jumped on the bed until the stiff springs softened. Tonight, you fall into your clean sheets and pillows and comforter in silky sleep clothes after a nice shower and you sleep like a happy little rock. 

Early in the pre-dawn morning, some muffled sounds pull your head up from the warm recess of the sleep pool. Your eyes flutter open to find someone sneaking quietly into your bedroom. You would recognize the silhouette of that luscious hair anywhere and grunt because you're not fully awake. 

You see Steve turn his head towards you in surprise. He shushes you gently and whispers, "sorry. Go back to sleep, sweetheart." 

You expected him to join you in bed but are disappointed to see his form retreating after a kiss on the forehead. It almost feels like a dream as sleep pulls you back under and the next thing you know is sweet dreams fueled by the smell of coconut and papaya. 

You dream of laying on a beach with white sands and turquoise waves. Kids play at the edge of the water, the boombox by your towel plays Blue Oyster Cult softly, and the gentle breeze blows a stray beach ball into your hands. Well, it’s actually a basketball. And a tall, lean man in bright red swim trunks crouches by your side with a flirtatious smile, brushing his pretty brown locks off his forehead and holding out his hand. 

“Sorry about that,” dreamy beach boy Steve said as you shook his hand, “gee, you’re awfully gorgeous, aren’t you? How’s about I help you with that sunscreen, doll?” 

You manage to undo the strings of your bikini top before quickly realizing that you must be dreaming. And as always, the dream slips away into memory and you open your eyes and return to your quaint, quiet bedroom which has become lightly sun filled. 

A handsome face appears above you with his wire frame glasses sliding down to the end of his aquiline nose. “Good morning, valentine.” 

“Hey Baywatch,” you mumble sleepily. 

“What,” he chuckles and adjusts his glasses. "Sleep well?" 

You moan. "So good, baby. Maybe… maybe too good…" 

"How's that?" You can't see him anymore now that he's slipped from your view and you can't turn your head. 

"I'm too comfortable, Steve," you almost sound like you're whining. "I can't get up. I can't move." 

Steve comes back into view. "Need a doctor?" 

You try to command yourself to shake your head but nothing happens. Growing slightly concerned, Steve drops a hand on your hip and his thumb absentmindedly circles your skin. It feels good too, not enough to free you from the bed's clutches. 

"Think… you just need to help me get my blood flowing," you finally said, and watched his gentle brown eyes turn hungry. 

"I can do that." 

Steve sets what sounds like a ceramic mug on your nightstand and picks something else up, then shuffles to the end of the bed before mounting it. You feel his knee bump your foot and realize you must have forgotten to use your blankets last night. 

"I was going to save this for after dinner tonight," you hear Steve start to say, "but I guess we'll be doing your presents backwards today." 

"What is it?" 

You hear a bottle open and close, then the sound of his big hands rubbing against each other moistly. "Massage oil. Get you nice and warmed up, sweetheart." 

Steve starts in at your feet, the oil warmed by his hands and easing the friction of movement. Your eyes roll back into your head at the firm pressure of his thumb making circular motions into your arch. And your boyfriend takes his time with you, not overworking nor neglecting certain muscles– just the goldilocks of massaging. He works up to your mid calf before setting your foot down to the side and switching legs. 

The silk fabric of your pants is unfortunately getting stained as he pushes it up your leg, but you can't bring yourself to mind at all as you feel him part your legs and scoot closer and closer to your core. Your blood is circulating at optimal capacity and you've never been so relaxed and yet so worked up before. 

Steve's head comes into view and he looks down at you with a fond smile, stripping your pants off completely and beginning work with his hands on the meat of your thigh. You whimper involuntarily and it only makes his smile widen. 

"Hi baby," he teases you. "How are we feeling?" 

This time, you moan appreciatively. "So good, Steve. Need you…" 

He raises an inquisitive eyebrow. "Need me to what, sweetheart?" 

Of course he is going to make you say it. Despite being close enough to your core to know how wet you were, able to see your nipples peaked under your shirt and the sweat on your neck. The back of his hand is centimeters from brushing your mound and yet he still wants you to say it. 

Stubbornly, you flatten your mouth and turn your head aside, pretending to fall back to sleep. He chuckles at your obstinance and drops a kiss on the exposed part of your neck before climbing off the bed entirely. In a panic, you whip your head around to find him and whine pathetically. 

"Where are you going?!" 

"Nowhere," he laughs, "I'm gonna wash my hands and grab something, calm down!" 

Feeling more awake, you manage to shuffle your legs into a more comfortable position and slide your arms in to start unbuttoning your shirt. Steve comes back with a box of chocolates. He takes a few into his big hand and sets the box on your nightstand where you realize there are also a few candles that hadn't been there before with black wicks and curling smoke. Steve unraps the foil from each of the chocolates and offers one to you, which you gladly open your mouth for and intentionally lick his fingers as you take it. It isn't long before he gets back in bed, but this time he straddles your hips. You glance at the comfy lounge pants on his hips and the bulge resting on your pelvis. 

“What’s that for?” You’re not too excited about food in your new bed but Steve shushes you and asks you to trust him, which you do. Then he pushes open your shirt and admires your bare chest. 

"Oh baby, for me?," he asks as if your naked breasts are a gift (and to him, they are). "You shouldn't have… but boy am I'm glad you did." 

His silly mood dials back as he begins to strategically place the little chocolates on your belly, making a trail between the valley of your breasts, mounting two next to your nipples, and placing one pointed top down in your naval. You roll your eyes but let him play, not quite getting the joke until he leans down and takes the first one, replacing it with his wet lips. 

"A kiss for a kiss," he says as he leans back with a goofy smile and chews. He takes another, inching up slowly.

"You're going to get sick from eating all that chocolate," you say lazily.

"They're minis," he shrugs and upon collection of the next Hersey's kiss, he leaves a sticky wet spot with his tongue. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I won’t leave you hanging.” 

Steve takes a chocolate from your boob and after making sure that it’s evenly melted in his mouth, he licks a stripe over your budding nipple, painting over it. The shock of hot and cold as the chocolate quickly cools has you shivering, and he repeats this action on the other side, then spends a good few minutes sucking it back up and cleaning them. 

The slick is beginning to pool inside your underwear, now having nowhere to go. And when you wiggle your hips, Steve’s stiff cock bumps the lowest part of your belly and leaves a sticky spot where pre-cum has soaked through his clothes. 

“Steve, Steve,” you whine and wiggle needily beneath him. “Please, baby, please.” 

You are moments away from full on crying, incoherent with your blooming desire but trying not to hurry him into anything. You suspect that Steve is just as down bad as you are, though he has patience galore when it comes to worshiping your body, much to your elation and sometimes dismay. 

And for once, or maybe because he can’t wait anymore either, Steve sits up and tugs his shirt over his head, the collar of his shirt accidentally pick up some of the chocolate staining his chin. The hem brushes his happy trail, revealing his freckled skin and hairy chest like a present being unwrapped. His glasses almost fall off, but he rights them once his left hand is free and tosses the shirt to the end of the bed. He’s panting now, same as you, his right hand gliding over his stomach to the waistband of his jeans and undoing his belt. 

Your mouth salivates as Steve pushes his jeans aside and the only barrier left between him and the world is Calvin Klein. Your boyfriend has always been good to you, and you can always ask him for anything you want. Impatience overwhelms you and you stop him just as his thumb catches on the waist band of his underwear. 

You crook a finger at him, then place your hands on his butt and pull, beckoning him to sit higher on your body. Away from your needy sex. He looks confused but he follows your direction, asking what you are doing until his voice trails off and he watches you smear melted chocolate from one breast to the other and lick the remains off your hands. 

The way he whispers your name makes you feel powerful. You take up his heavy cock in your hands and stroke him slowly, bringing him to full hardness and coating his shaft in chocolate. 

It's a mess in the making but you are too drunk on lust to stop. 

"Come here," you coax him to scoot just an inch closer, then settle his cock between your breasts and squeeze, forming a channel around his member and staring up at him. 

Steve could just about faint. He braces himself on his thighs and pulls his hips back and thrusts, feeling his cock slide through sticky chocolate and gathering sweat. On the second test thrust, you stick your tongue out and catch the tip which coats the appendage in pre-cum. 

"F-fuck," Steve gasps. 

Was fucking your tits the filthiest thing you two have ever done with each other? The chocolate does bring it to a close second, but no. It’s never something Steve has asked for, or mentioned being interested in, yet still some instinct inside of you drove you to it and made you feel like this was the action that would satisfy your desire to make him feel good. Pleasing you pleases him, which pleases you, and on and on in a delicate dance of kissing and rutting and caressing that makes you feel boneless and loved. 

Steve whimpers and pets his hair back only for it to flop back into his eyes. The strands are becoming damp and sticking to his forehead. You know he needs more, he always makes those sounds when he needs more to finish. So you walk your fingers around his hip and squeeze his ass, parting his cheeks as his hips stutter and his thrusts become not faster but stronger, rougher. It takes no brain cells for him to take up the task of sandwiching your boobs back over his cock for more friction– but not until after he dribbles spit on your skin to lube it up. 

Steve nods his head before you can even ask permission– he wants it– so you go ahead and slide one finger into his hole, slow and careful so as not to cause him discomfort. And Steve moans, the loudest he’s been all morning. 

“Baby…” Sweat drops from the point of his nose and he keens. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come…” 

He almost topples over when you suddenly shove him further up your chest, pulling his cock past your breasts until you can lift your head up and wrap your lips around his tip and suck. His whole body jerks unexpectedly, eyes rolling back into his head and his glasses falling off completely without him noticing. You set them aside as far as you can and push him forward again, trying to use your body to tell him what you wanted from him since your mouth was full. 

“Okay, okay…” Steve mutters as he repositions himself and begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. 

He growls upon feeling you moan with praise, the vibrations pressing right against the sensitive underside of his tip thanks to your playful tongue. You take him further, further, his cock inches deeper until it’s about halfway and then he jerks back just in time for the first rope to paint your chin. 

Shaking and high, Steve watches through his lashes as you greedily suck and swallow his load, his whole cock pink from use beneath the mixture of chocolate and spit. You release his cock with a pop and lick the come off of your chin as best you can, then smile like a cat with creme. Adrenaline drains from his body and he feels like you did when you woke up, relaxed and tingling all over his body. He rolls to the side almost tumbling onto the floor as your bed is unexpectedly narrow compared to his and he waddles off to provide clean-up.

He does yelp when your finger pops out of his ass, not realizing you hadn’t removed it until he stepped away from the bed and his noise makes you laugh so hard your sides hurt. 

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he says as he returns to wipe you down with a warm, clean washcloth. “Valentine’s Day is supposed to be about you, not blowing me!” 

“Valentine’s Day is about us,” you correct him mirthfully. “And I’ll do whatever I want with your body if you let me.” 

He chuckles and sighs, slipping into your bed and curling his arm under your shoulders until you are strewn out on his chest. His heart beats steady in his chest and is already lulling you back into the clutches of sleep. But Steve has one more thing to say before you drift off. 

“Just give me a few minutes of rest, okay? And then I’m going to spend the rest of the night until dinner– when I am taking you to Enzo’s by the way– making you feel so fucking good, you will never be able to masturbate again.”

"Promises, promises," you purr with contentment.

Other Valentines | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment, drop an anonymous message, or reblog if you wanna show me and my work some love! More sexy holiday fics to come leading up to the Fourteenth!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Celebrate Valentine's Day!

Welcome, welcome. These fics are 18+ NSFW female reader inserts with Joe Keery and Joseph Quinn characters (no RPF). If you are a minor, please do not interact. All fics include tags of possibly triggering content which you can read before you proceed!

Links will be added daily as the fics drop! First drops February 1st!!

❤ \\ Bee's Masterlist // ❤

Week One Keery Spotlight!

Clinomania || ft. Steve Harrington | Day One + Steve + Chocolate!

Fire Hazard || ft. Kurt Kunkle | Day Two + Kurt + Candles!

Getting Off || ft. Walter McKeys | Day Three + Keys + Ring

Spicing Things Up || ft. Jack HTBA | Day Four + Nurse Jack + Kisses

(Un)Virtual Valentine || ft. Walter McKeys | Day Six + Keys + Card

My Big Shot, My Star || ft. Steve Harrington | Day Five + Steve + Presents

UPDATE 2/15 FUTURE OF THE REST OF THE V-DAY WIPS:

If you missed it: the plan to post the rest of these fics on time has failed HOWEVER these are not being abandoned! The decor of these fics may change, but as they are completed (❤ I'll get to them when I get to them ❤), they will be linked here and available to read on my Masterlist.

Happy holidays, loves 💋

Venus & Aphrodite || ft. Jack HTBA | Day Seven + Nurse Jack + Flowers

Week Two Quinn Spotlight!

TBD || ft. Eddie Munson | Day Eight + Eddie + Card

TBD || ft. Tom Grant | Day Nine + Tom + Presents

TBD || ft. Eddie Munson | Day Ten + Eddie + Candles

TBD || ft. Ralph Penbury | Day Eleven + Ralph + Ring

TBD || ft. Leonard Bast | Day Twelve + Leonard + Party

TBD || ft. Billy Knight | Day Thirteen + Billy + Flowers

TBD || ft. Eddie Munson | Day Fourteen + Eddie + Kisses

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Valentine's Fics

Valentine's Fics

Valentine's Fics

Valentine's Fics!

I WHAP YOU WITH LOVE! I BRING YOU LOVE IN THE FORM OF READER INSERT FICTION!

Seven days of Keery! Seven days of Quinn! All smut, all the time!

Return February 1st for "Clinomania" and the event masterlist which will be updated daily during the fortnight until the holiday!

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Okay, change of plans... trigger warning for descriptions of injured persons

Short Version; the afformentioned fics in my last update are going to be postponed or scrapped completely

Yesterday both of my parents slipped on ice (yes, That Ice. They didn't know it was slick until they were falling: I'm talking almost one step out the door), my mom was the only one with a serious injury (she's not paralyzed though, thank god), so I'm going to have to step up and help my stepdad care for her as well as take over care of the house and our dogs.

So basically I will not be very active in the next 4-6 weeks. It's not an official hiatus, and you might seen fics pop-up here at random, but please forgive any "lower quality or out-of-season" -ness that they have. I'm rolling with the punches, as it were

The most important thing is that my mom is going to be okay and even though she's in a lot of pain right now, I'm truly just thankful it wasn't worse. Y'all stay SAFE out there, please, no errand is worth risking serious injury over and the weather for us is volatile in a way it never has been before ❤💚

Happy Holidays to all and the start of a New Year on it's way

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Stuck

Summary || [Kurt Kunkle X Female Reader] Impressing Kurt's extended family during your 1st Christmas with them becomes a major point of stress for your sexually voracious boyfriend

Christmas Holiday With Kurt's Family | 2.3k words SMUT | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Swearing, Porn Without Plot, Religious Affiliations and Pressure to Conform, Unusual Sex Position, Distracted Narrator, Semi-Public Sex, Degradation Kink (Light), Name Calling (slut, whore, etc), Almost Caught, Anal Fingering (female receiving), Interrupted, Rough Oral Sex (male receiving)

Other Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

It was going to be your first Christmas with your boyfriend's family. Your first impression was going great as you got to know so many of his cousins. Getting hit on by the creepy ones wasn't great, but all you have to do is cling to Kurt or his female cousins and things are fine. 

Except for right now: stuck ass up in a chair because you tried to crawl between the cushioned seat and the cushioned back instead of standing and walking around it like an adult. Your current position has the potential to make things anything but fine. If Kurt's family is anything like yours, there will be terrible rumors about you since you forgotten to change out of your 'promiscuously' small sleep shorts. 

You struggle to free yourself again unsuccessfully as you hear footsteps behind you. A familiar chuckle and a shadow move over you until you see Kurt peeking at you from above.

"What, uh, what are you doing, babe?," he sniggers. 

"Kurt, thank goodness! Can you help me? I think it's my shirt caught on a nail or something," you replied. 

"Oh, would you say you were…" he smiled smugly, "stuck?" 

It takes you a second to catch his meaning. "Not like that, you perv. Besides, your entire family is running around this house, we can't!" 

You could hear them– kids outside, aunties laughing over mimosas in the family room, and uncles laughing over beers in the foray. This side room was near the backyard but sunken, like an above ground basement so the windows were slits nearer to the ceiling. Inside the room is an eclectic collection of comfy chairs arranged in a circle with abandoned needle works on all of them which is the only sign of your previous attempt to bond with his aunts who had all moved on from crocheting to day drinking. Oh but not you, you just had to stay a little longer and make one neat row, one row that didn’t make Kurt's still living great grandmother’s eyes roll in disgust. 

And then you had dropped your hook and, like an idiot child, climbed through the furniture to retrieve it. 

Now, you grunt in frustration, feeling your jaw clench as it takes hold. “Please Kurt, this is enough embarrassment for one whole lifetime. Can you just get me out, and we can…” 

You feel Kurt’s big, warm palms slide over the sensitive backs of your upper thighs. His callouses creating a rough drag to his gentle touch that started at your knee and slid under the hem of your shorts to tease the elastic band of your underwear. Then he gave your flesh a squeeze and a pull, spreading you apart for a moment and making heat pool sharply between your legs. You are struck dumb by how exposed he makes you feel even without removing a single article of your clothing. 

It isn’t until you feel his legs straddle your hips and his weight bears down, pushing your hips into the seat and trapping you further that any words of wisdom or reason are able to push through your mouth. 

And all that comes out it a weak, shaky “Kurt, don’t,” that is powerless to the feeling of his hips grinding into yours, his own loose basketball shorts barely concealing the growing rod beneath them. 

Kurt shushes you gently and continues to move his hips in a smooth roll, stimulating your sex in a position you literally can’t shy away from him in. “You have to be quiet, baby. Door’s not locked and anybody could wander in and find you being a whore for me.” 

You snap your head around to glare at him– well, as much as you can with only your arms free– and you find him gazing down at you with one arm folded atop the chair back and his chin rested on top, his heated gaze watching you wrestle with how serious you actually are about not doing this. 

You both seem to be turned on by how helpless you are (something to unpack later, perhaps in therapy). 

Then you feel his blunt nails scraping your back as his grips the waistband of your clothes, easing them down over the apple of your cheeks and further, exposing your embarrassingly wet sex to himself, the air, and any potential involuntary voyeurs. 

“Kurt,” you whisper-shout, “seriously, if we get caught–” 

A gasp rips through you and you slap a hand over your mouth to prevent any other unfortunate sounds from escaping as you feel his long pointer finger drag through your slick folds to tease you, ending with small circles over your clit despite the lame efforts of your thighs to clench around his touch. 

“Miss being inside you,” is the only thing that dribbles out of his sinful mouth. “You won’t come with me to the car or the laundry room for a quickie… aren’t you going crazy without sex, or is it really just me?” 

You feel your nipples tighten painfully beneath the rub of your bra cups. 

Ever since Angela mentioned joining the rest of the Kunkle clan for their traditional holiday get-together, you had been elated to tag along. It made you feel like an important and long-term member of Kurt’s life, and the thought of getting introduced to his extended family who were meeting at his mom’s elder brother’s house this year was beyond anything you had imagined with previous partners. 

The Kunkles warned you uncle John Paul was religious– but that hadn’t quite translated to you as Extremely Forward About Pre-Marital Sex. Elsewise, you might have been prepared to be sprinkled with holy water and prayed over at the front door before even taking your damn shoes off. John Paul and his 'traditional' wife were clearly keeping a watchful eye out on you specifically as the only new significant other attending this year. Kurt does have one cousin, Lathan, on his dad’s side with an on-and-off girlfriend Lainey (who you’re pretty sure was also Lathan’s stepsister at one point? wtf…) who you feel is more worthy of John Paul's energy. You theorize that they as the only other young (and unmarried) couple with a need to touch each other all the time, have unknowingly set you up to be scrutinized heavily for potential indicators of, who knows, being a fucking succubus? Yeah, that feels about right. 

For six days, it has been uncomfortable to kiss, sit next to, or even hold hands with your boyfriend. You walk around with eyes on you at all times and double up layers of clothing even when its way too hot to do so to appear as modest as you can. Normally you don’t care what people think of you, but Kurt’s family feels important even if he himself doesn’t care. Which means sneaking off for sex is completely out of the question. Instead, you have only allowed him to occasionally swing his arm over your shoulders and kiss him chastely on the lips as if to say ‘see? This is as far as we’ll go under your roof. No sin of lust here! Now please take down the Eye of Sauron, i can’t take another minute of this…’ 

Kris, Kurt’s dad, seems very pleased with himself watching you two be forced to act like Good Christian Teenagers. In fairness, he has had to bear witness to how fucking sexually insatiable his own son can be multiple times as you two refuse to keep your hands off each other. 

So of course you fucking miss having sex! 

You smother a groan as Kurt, in the present, stops teasing your cunt and pushes his thumb into your entrance, filling you but for a moment. You don’t realize you’ve dug your teeth into your own flesh until you loosen your jaw and feel the harsh sting on your wrist. 

“Kurt…” 

But your last attempt to protest dies in your mouth as he pulls his thumb out and replaces it with his thick shaft. You were so wrapped up in the reasons you didn’t want him to fuck you that you hadn’t noticed him pull his dick out and stroking himself to full hardness. Now his girth– which you usually took in stride multiple times on the daily– it burns as he splits you open and fills you up to the hilt. The stretch is delicious and so much hotter knowing you really weren’t supposed to be doing it. 

Kurt curses above you and wriggles, making sure your slick coats his thick member properly for maximum pleasure. “Almost forgot how good you feel…” 

You have to swallow the needy moan that threatens to escape you as Kurt begins to thrust. It’s shallow, he barely pulls out two inches before pushing back in as deep as he can, and it’s slow to keep quiet, and yet you can still hear the sound of his sack sticking to the tacky substance coating your inner thighs and your ass. It only serves to make you hotter, dousing the fire in you with gasoline. 

Only Kurt’s heavy, controlled breathing can truly be heard over the sounds of your risky little adventure. You take his cock like he owns you and know that’s exactly the kind of filth he would be whispering into your ear if you didn’t need to be quiet. Has he always been this fucking big?! 

Kurt’s hand tugs your hair once to get your attention. “Shh, be quiet! If we get caught, neither of us get to come, you know that, right?” 

The thought is unbearable and brings tears to your waterline. “Need you, Kurt, always needed you…” 

Kurt stifles his own groan and his thrusts grow a little sloppier, the speed heightening the sound of slapping skin despite his own warning but the fear in you actually drags you closer to orgasm rather than farther away. There’s a sticky spot on your cheek where his hand brushed you and you feel that hand return to your body, this time his wet thumb is pushed unceremoniously into the muscled ring of your ass, right alongside his cock below as he continues to thrust into you like a rutting dog. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” drool drips down onto the hand you are using to support yourself. 

A feral part of you wants Kurt to wrap his meaty hands around your throat and arch you backwards forcefully, to fuck into you so hard you see stars, to yell about what a good little slut you’re being for him. Part of you wants his prude, snobby ‘Christian’ aunt and uncle to find him fucking the sense out of you just get the truth out there and ruin your malleable reputation already so you two can continue to be the way you really are with each other– obsessed. 

Kurt begins to whimper and that triggers the end for you. The tight coil in your belly snaps free and you are suddenly gushing and crushing his meat until you feel your toes curl and legs jerk with every aftershock as he continues to drill into you embarrassingly loud. You can tell he’s getting close to the edge, just at the top of the peak when a male voice calls his name from somewhere in the house. 

And then another. And another which seems to be drawing closer. 

And then Kurt barely has a second to stand up on his shaky legs and rip the chair back to let you slide out, finally freed, before the door bursts open and three of his uncles walk in. 

“There you are! You gotta come see this game, Kurt, these clowns are calling fouls left and right!” 

With Kurt’s body obstructing their view of you, you pull your clothes back into place, grimacing at the feeling of so much slick slowly drying in thick layers against your sex. Kurt tucked himself away, but you could clearly see him holding his aching cock against his inner thigh, probably glaring daggers at the interruption. 

“What are you two doing?,” came the most dreaded question of all from the balding uncle who had commented on you being ‘too cute’ this morning in your little outfit (it was the most skin anyone had seen of you since you came in and you’re certain he was being a secret pervert about it). 

While you completely freeze, Kurt steps in with a smooth, unfaltering voice. “Oh, she lost her knitting needle, I was helping her look for it.” 

Lamely, you smile and wave the forgotten crochet hook (not knitting needle but how would Kurt know the difference? It was a total fabrication) in your hand and then the room falls silent. 

Kurt once again shows great composure for this awkward situation and says firmly, “I’ll meet you in the living room in a minute, okay?” 

The uncles nod their heads blankly and shuffle out as if they were one mildly confused mind. You are finally able to breathe a sigh of relief and rest and grateful hand on Kurt’s chest (his shirt is slightly damp along the collar of his neck and a vein jumps as he works his jaw). 

“Quick thinking, babe,” you praise him but he seems to take no notice. “Hey, you okay?” Suddenly, you are nose to nose with your boyfriend and his still dark eyes pin you in place. “You have five minutes to rest. Then your ass better meet me in my car." 

And he disappears from the room in a flash. You have to use the five minutes to instead run upstairs and change into warmer clothing (including shoes, new underwear, and a thick winter jacket) before you sneak out the side door and wait until his prius warms. 

The next thing you know is Kurt fucking your throat to get himself off in broad daylight on a mostly empty suburban street and all is right with the world.

Just Keery Fics | Main Masterlist

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Okay I didn't want to write Holiday stuff but my brain refused to allow me to write anything else 😅

We got smutty reader inserts inbound, no telling when I'll drop them seeing as the reason for the season is approaching rapidly

Stuck with Kurt Kunkle | Porn without Plot Smut: You're trying to impress Kurt's extended family this holiday but suppressing your voracious lust for your boyfriend is hard

Special Christmas Gift with Kurt Kunkle | PWP: College roommate Kurt has the strangest Christmas wish he asks of you

Second No More with Prince Paul | PWP: Paul is sick of being second best at everything and aims to become his mother's favorite son by giving her her 1st grandchild

Water Bed with Steve Harrington | Smut: Eddie's career is starting to take off and you and Steve end up sharing a hotel bed and confessing some feelings

The first three I'm going to try and post in the next five days, Water Bed I will probably post a week after Christmas

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Hangover Cure

Summary || [Ralph (Timewasters) X Spinster! Reader] Ralph requires attention and interrupts your hangover ritual.

The Just Friends Stage | 571 words | NO BETA/ SELF- EDITED, One-shot, Reader Drinks Like A Victorian, Lack of Boundaries, Awkward Friends, Penbury Is Fanon Last Name, Human Puppy Behavior, Fainting

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

You needed a little hair-of-the-dog and a stark wake up call this morning, which is how you found yourself in a bathtub with a glass of brandy. The cold water wasn't doing much to brighten your mood, but at least you wouldn't fall asleep in this water. 

The Penbury twins weren't known for their discretion– nay, they were gossipers to the maximum, especially Victoria– but you were a common guest since you moved back to take over your family estate, and the twins had taken an instant liking to you. So when a knock came on the bathroom door, you rolled your eyes and invited them in. 

To your great surprise, it was Ralph alone. Even in this maze they called a home they were rarely without each other. Ralph wandered into the room excitedly and nearly choked when he realized you were bathing. 

"Oh dear, my deepest apologies! If I had known you were…" 

You rolled your eyes. He knew now, and yet he made no move to leave. He would if you openly dismissed him, he would leave in a heartbeat, but Ralph was awkward and clearly too excited about whatever he had come to talk about to adhere to propriety (perhaps it was also improper for you to have invited him in when he knocked). 

"Don't you look comfortable," Ralph said, clearly nervous and twitching. 

You bite your tongue to keep from mocking him. After all, how could he know what you look like when you smile since you're always scowling? Instead you say curtly, "it's not." 

"Isn't it?" 

It is adorable the way his nose scrunches in genuine concern. Despite his obvious trepidation, he steps over to the edge of the tub to examine it. A mountain of bubbles in the bath obscure your form for you to fret about it. 

"Well it looks comfortable. The candles, open french doors, your favorite brandy, the scent of lilacs and--" Ralph breathed deeply the scent hanging in the air and stuck a finger in the water. "Oh! Well that's quite cold..." 

"I know," you reply flatly. "I made it that way." 

Ralph stared at you in bewilderment. "But… you'll catch your death in this!" 

He was being dramatic and you tell him as much, then watch as he scurries to the rack and pulls two towels and returns with a wide grin and looking as though he has had an epiphany. 

"Come now, I won't have you turning to ice on this lovely summer day!" 

Ralph unfolded the linen and extended his arms as if to welcome you into them. Perhaps it was a learned gesture, one a mother or a maid might use for a child. It seemed a role reversal for him– he almost seems to be scolding you for your unnatural behavior. And, just to be facetious, you set your brandy aside and stand up from the water. 

You have never seen Ralph's eyes so wide. His pretty brown gaze fixed on every inch of your body, from the rivulets of water cascading down your goose pimpled skin and the curve of your shoulder and hips to your peaked breasts and the curls adorning the apex of your thighs. You take satisfaction in knowing you were likely the only naked woman he had seen outside of a painting. 

And then he fainted against the tiles of the floor uttering a single "oh dear" as he collapsed.

Just Quinn Fics | Main Masterlist

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

The Bastard In Your Bed (Soft Version)

GOT Koner (Snow) X Lady of Castle Cerwyn! Reader

Sequel to “Kinktober prompt day 29; Body Worship” | 5.4k words | NO BETA/ SELF-EDITED, Author Attempts (Poorly) To Mimic The Writing Style of The Source Material (GOT/ASOIAF), Swearing, References to Canon Typical Violence, Cuckolding, Infidelity(?), Highborn/Smallfolk, Mutual Pining, Edging, Marking, Breeding, Multiple Time Skips, Mentions of Pregnancy/Miscarriage, Mother! Reader, Ruined Clothes, Oral (female receiving), Cockwarming

This Story Is The Sequel To... | Main Masterlist

Your ankles cross behind his head as Koner folds your legs over your own body and thrusts faster. You have already come twice and have endured watching him torturing himself by slowing down whenever he nears his end. Your heart breaks knowing the reason why he won't let himself finish. 

"Koner," you cradle his face and try to get him to look at you, "let go, love. Fill me up again.”

"No," he grunts and his cockhead hits deep, making you gasp. "I'm not ready yet… not ready to…" 

Koner's pillowy lips curve into a sad pout and you feel his manhood starting to soften inside you. The end of your time together making an heir has drawn to a close whether you like it or not, and you do not intend to let it be such a sad parting. 

You pinch his cheeks and pull his head down, forcing him to look you in the eye. "I know, my love, but there comes a time when all things must end. Please, darling, let's make it a good one." 

Big dark eyes swim with unshed tears above you and you feel him give a barely perceptible nod. "...just come again for me, my lady, one more time…?" 

You aren't sure if you can but… "for you? I can try." 

The handsome Koner Snow kisses you sweetly, licking his way past your teeth before thrashing you with a slew of cleverly angled thrusts and the warmest gaze. It never failed to make fire blaze in your core, no matter how sore you became. The sound of sticky flesh slapping fills your ears and makes your cunt clench around him, causing his rhythm to falter and his eyes to fall shut in concentration. 

"Careful, m'lady," he teases you in that sweet voice you had come to know so well, "or I might not make it. Then I'll have no choice but to clean you up with my tongue and start all over again." 

The twisting feeling in your stomach pulled tight as a bow string. He loves reminding you of his specially skilled tongue work. No matter how many times he did it, it never lost its luster and had you begging for him every time without fail. 

“Ah! Koner…” your legs are shaking as they fall from his shoulders, but he catches them with his strong arms and spreads you wider to pound into you harder. “F-f-fuck!” 

“That’s it, m’lady, fuck, I can feel it coming...” 

Koner presses a hand into your belly and bites your already bruised neck. The weight of his hand on your stomach inadvertently causes some of his seed from a previous release to squelch out of you around his drilling cock and the feeling makes your eyes flutter and your whole body clench so hard that you see stars. A strangled gurgle leaves your raw throat as your cunt flutters harder than it has before. Koner’s thrusts falter and he groans into your neck. 

He pushes your whole body into the bed as he fills you up again. Milky white cream pumps into your womb as he crushes your breasts with his warm palms. 

You are both trembling when he pulls out and wraps you into his arms again. You lick his cheek and savor the taste of salty sweat as he giggles in surprise. 

“You are insatiable, my lady,” he says mirthfully. 

“Only when it comes to you, dear,” you admit lowly and bite your lip to stop from confessing other things. 

You heard the footsteps long before he entered the room. Lord Cerwyn had checked on you often during this time, always at random so as not to let you get too cozy with your 'little pet' as he called Koner. You feel the bedmate quickly pulling away to stand, naked and covered in sex fluids but not as self-conscious as he had been before. You imagine him as having lost most of his modesty from being walked in on again and again. 

Medger burst in through the doors, ever a grand entrance with him. "Ah, wife! I have given you your days, as promised. Now it is time for the boy to return to his duties and for you to return to yours." 

"Yes, my lord," you and Koner said in unison. 

Medger sauntered up to the bed and patted your bare thigh where the furs did not cover you. "How long before you know if you are with child? Do you feel a babe growing yet?" 

You spy Koner covering his mouth with his hand as he tugs on his trousers and give your husband a blank stare. 

"... no, Medger. I'm afraid it doesn't work that fast." 

Koner does not hear much of your explanation as the captain of the guards ushers him out of the room to finish dressing, leaving the boy with a heavy heart and a wish that he had been quick enough to kiss you goodbye. 

…

Three days. Three days of fine dornish wine, sweet cakes, and bread that wasn't stale. Three days spent under the thickest, warmest furs next to a raging hearth maintained at all times by the castle servants. Three days rutting and fucking and filling your womb until it was fit to burst and leaked all night long. The time Koner had spent with you felt both like a lifetime, and yet they passed by more quickly than he wanted. 

You returned to being the Lady of Castle Cerwyn, and Koner returned to the drafty, sickly cold of the guards' barracks and its uninspired rations and hunting for his own meat that he would still be expected to share no matter how measly the kill. And dodging all of the questions his fellow guards flung at him was made easier thanks to the reminder lord Cerwyn had given him. 

"Remember, pup. No babe means no head, and I'm talking about the useless one on your shoulders, not the useless one between your legs.” 

It chilled him to the bone worse than the cold of the North but he soldiered on. After a while, the questions stopped coming and the taste of unsalted rabbit didn't seem so bland. One earnest talk with his captain about the cold in the sleeping quarters ended with Koner slathering mud into the holes in the walls of the barracks by himself trying to block out the draft, and the captain was quick to give Koner a pointed look when dozens of extra furs were made and distributed to the guardsmen. 

Captain Karstark pulled him aside from his duties under the guise of helping him with a special task. No other guards, no horses– just two armed men (one far more seasoned in battle than the other) and snow crunching under their boots in the towering pine forest. 

Unlike other Karstarks and men of the North, the captain’s head was shorn except for the silvery spade hair on his chin. He was a fierce warrior, and a wise one as well. Koner would never call him amicable but in many ways, he did remind him of his own lord father. 

“I take it you did more than just ‘your duty’ when you were with Lady Cerwyn,” Karstark grumbled. “Did a lot of complaining, did you Snow?” 

“N-no, captain,” Koner stammered and tripped on a tree root. “The Lady offered to have new boots and blankets made for the guards, I-I did not say anything like that!” 

“So she just decided that, did she? You had absolutely nothing to do with it at all?” 

Koner flushed. He hadn’t meant to, but while he was showering you in praise and thanks between sex, you quickly picked up on his obsession with how warm it all was. The old wing of the castle where the guards usually slept was still being rebuilt and the barracks were drafty. You insisted that was a serious problem and you would handle it. Then you’d found holes in his boots when your handmaid had brought his clothes back from being washed and doubled down. 

"There’s something else bothering you, boy. Tell me what bug crawled up your ass to make you so skittish," the captain said after an hour. 

Koner startled and tugged at his gloves. "I-it's nothing, captain. Only that…" 

He was expressly forbidden to talk about those three days. But Karstark knew, had known all along and had even collected him for the line-up. And Koner was restless at night dreaming of his head being fixed to a pike and needed at least a little reassurance. 

"Have you heard anything at all about the Lady, captain?" 

The older man hesitated. “Why?” 

“Because lord Cerwyn threatened to cut my head off if she’s not with child,” Koner answered and pouted when the captain laughed. 

“It’s alright, Snow,” he said, patting his back. “My wife and I have been blessed with many children. It would usually take a few months before her belly started to grow, but there were other signs I caught onto before then, like her eating more and having tender breasts. The first sign she once told me is that she stopped bleeding monthly.” 

Koner shudders uncomfortably. 

“My wife is always quieter in those first three months,” the commander continued. “She says babes are most often lost at their earliest. So if she notices anything, she’ll wait to tell me just to be sure it’s not something else. You’ll be alright, son, things like this don’t stay quiet for long. Gods know it’s been long enough. They will see fit to bless her with an heir.” 

Life carried on and once it was announced that you were indeed with child, the frightening, dirty looks from lord Cerwyn stopped coming. It made Koner happy and terribly sad all at once. His first child would not be his own. The babe would never know him, but it would be cared for and doted on immensely by you and the rest of the residents of the castle. He realized he would have to be careful from now on to treat you and the babe like strangers– never being allowed to let his interactions bear a hint of familiarity, or no doubt Lord Cerwyn would put a sword through him. 

Every night after that, Koner prayed for a girl, if only so he might be blessed with more time in your bed trying again. And when the nights were especially long, he found himself reaching his chilly hands into his trousers and fondling himself to the thought of you. Your breasts tender and full, your face eternally bright, and your belly swollen large as the babe grew bigger and bigger. Koner's mouth goes dry as his imagination colors and a few wanton grunts die in his throat as he spills into his hand. 

He wonders if you think about him at all or if you've forgotten him completely and blinks tears away. 

…

Koner is walking the hall back to the rowdy feast when he hears a strange noise from afar. His feet stop short and he lifts his head, listening to see if it comes again. Another follows, more readily identified as a painful scream that makes his heart pound in his ears. 

A hard hand slaps his shoulder and scares him out of his wits, but it's only captain Karstark. "Snow! Get your ass to your post before I take you outside and have you whipped!" 

Koner fumbles his way two steps before another scream punches through the air, louder and agonized. "D'you hear that?! Someone's being hurt!" 

The captain lifts his chin to the air and thinks for a moment. "... it's Lady Cerwyn. Kitchens have been gossiping about it for days. Babe's finally coming." 

Black dots dance in Koner's eyes and the room begins to spin. "Can't be. She's in pain…" 

The captain hooks an arm around Koner’s and forcibly hauls the boy in the other direction. "Of course she's in fucking pain, have you ever seen the size of a newborn's head? You'll do her no good going to her now, so don't even think about it, Snow. Gods willing, the delivery will be swift and she and the babe will be healthy." 

The silence that stretched after that statement drained all of the blood from Koner's face. "And if they aren't?" 

But the captain only glances sideways at him and pushes him forward again. The message is clear though… there are people who don't expect you to survive. Maybe it' stems from the barren seven years since your marriage and nobody knows that that had not been your fault. He tries to hang on to that thought as he takes back his post at the feasting hall's front door and watches the visiting lord's make merry so loud that the tapestries tremble on the walls. 

Prayer is the only thing keeping him sane. He doesn't know how many he's sent to the Mother for your deliverance, the Father for his own strength, and the Stranger to fuck off, but then a handmaiden whispers in lord Cerwyn’s ear and he is bellowing for the hall to be quiet with the biggest grin on his face. 

"I HAVE A SON!"

The whole hall erupts into cheering so loud it makes Koner's teeth chatter and the feast carries on well into the following night. 

A boy. The lord has a heir at long last, with your hair he is told, and named Robbard after an old Cerwyn lord. He also hears from the kitchen girls that you call him Robin. 

Koner does his best to be happy. He gets to keep his head after all, and as the babe grows older, sometimes Koner catches a glimpse of you with the little lordling walking the grounds. You look serenely happy even when Robin is not content to rest in your arms or as he learns to walk and run, is annoyed at being held back from the stables and the training yards. 

"Slow down, my love," he heard you say sweetly above the din of clashing practice swords. "When you're older, you can wander all you like.”

And sometimes it's hard but by the gods, Koner tries to move on and find joy in drinking and singing with his fellow guards, guarding his own secret– it is the only thing he can do to protect you and your boy. 

…

Someone shoves their boot into Koner's ribs as he sleeps. A few years past, he would have leaped out of his bed screaming profanities, but tonight he simply cracks open his eyes and grunts in annoyance. 

Ser Kyle Condon stands over him with a torch in hand. "Up, Snow. Your lord commands it." 

Koner blinks sleep from his eyes and moves sluggishly to his feet, neither in a hurry nor delaying. Ser Kyle was new to the castle grounds but had quickly become lord Cerwyn’s right-hand. He was a true knight, an honorable man and a skilled fighter. And a prick. 

“Forget the armor, Snow, just grab whatever will keep you warm,” Ser Kyle says. Okay, so he’s not a total prick. 

The walk across the fog covered bailey is quiet. Of course it is, dawn is hours away still. The mud and snow beneath his boots squelch with every step as they make their way to the castle. Ser Kyle offers no explanation as to the reason for his waking, and for some reason, Koner believes it is not because he is withholding something but because he truly doesn’t know what the lord wants from him. 

They trek through long halls in the castle and pass an open door with hearty voices. Koner peaks only for a moment and gapes. Ubba Blooddrinker, who returned from some scourge in the wolfswood killing crannogmen the night before, holding young Robin on his hip and playing with the boy, his nephew. And their guests– a red haired woman in blue holding a red haired babe over her yet bulging pregnant belly. Two young boys older than Robin, nearly identical in size but the black haired boy stood as far from the woman as he could, stopped from getting any further away only by the hand of one who could only be his father. And that man was tall and stoic, wearing a thick gray doublet with a wolf's head pinned to his chest. 

And as if he could sense eyes on him, the man locked eyes with the young Koner just for a moment before Ser Kyle's heavy gloved hand slapped into his back to push him forward and sending Koner into a coughing fit. 

"Was that…?! What are they…?" 

"Shut up, Snow," Ser Kyle growled, "it's not to do with you. Lord Stark and his family have better things to do than be gawked at by a peasant." 

This time, the insult dug its claws under Koner's skin but he snapped his eye forward and swallowed any retort. Behind his eyes the image of Ubba making his son– your and Lord Medger's son– smile bothered him. And it wasn't until Ser Kyle mounted the spiraling steps to the south tower that Koner realized with a sudden surge of anticipation that this led to your bed chambers that his heart started to beat against his ribs. 

Was his dream finally coming true? Had you finally called him back to your arms after all these years? Would he finally be able to confess for your ears alone how you had ensnared his heart? Koner's brow furrows and he tries very hard not to hope against all hopes that he is here for the reason he wishes he was. Still his heart beats wildly in his chest and swells with warmth. 

"All yours," Ser Kyle says and doubles back to the room where the Starks were being entertained. 

Karstark doesn't say a word, just jerks his head in the direction of your bed chamber and Koner follows blindly. Did you call him here, at last? After six long years? Would you confess that you felt the same longing that has been plaguing him all this time? Was this a trap? He remembers with great confusion that Ser Kyle had named Lord Cerwyn as his caller, not you. 

Lord Cerwyn already has his heir, Koner thinks, what else could they want of me other than my continued silence? 

His hands shake, and he pants like he's trying to catch his breath. Karstark turns to him just outside your door and whispers low, "try to keep it quiet tonight, Snow. We don't need the Starks asking questions." 

Koner nods wildly and pushes forward without another coherent thought. And there you are, waiting for him, still dressed in your white linen gown with the silver trim and black belt. And you smile so sweetly at his face that he almost falls to his knees right then and there. 

"Koner," your voice is like a song he could never forget and you drift towards him, placing a soft hand on his cheek and gazing up at him. "I have missed you so much." 

Koner feels like his heart is about to burst and he swallows down around the lump in his throat. “I’m dreaming...” 

But even as he says it, he knows it is not true. No dream could ever replicate the feeling of your touch, a feeling that six years later he has completely forgotten until just now. And your soft lips brush his but he’s too overcome to kiss you back, frozen in fear and confusion. 

“My husband and I have come to another agreement, my dear,” you begin. “Another child and this time, I will be allowed to keep you for a week. Perhaps longer if certain… requirements are met.” 

“...what?” Koner’s legs feel like jelly and he allows you to pull him along and sit him on your bed. His head feels like it has been stuffed full with snow, your gentle caresses on the backs of his hands are driving him to distraction but he tries, he tries very hard to listen to you speak. “I d-don’t understand.” 

You plant another kiss on his lips and this time, he reciprocates just a little, reactionary to your heat as it seeps into him. “Lord Medger has taken my advice that one son alone is simply not enough for a strong, hearty lineage as house Cerwyn. A man needs sons to carry his name into battle and daughters to tie stronger bonds between houses. One spare heir would be acceptable– even if it is nothing more than a precaution.” 

Koner shakes the metaphorical snow from his mind and leans his forehead against yours, trying to calm himself down and understand. “But… they won’t be his sons, not by blood anyways.” 

He feels you nod and is almost too caught up in the pools of your gorgeous eyes to hear your response. “History remembers names, not blood.” 

Finally, Koner allows his hands to touch you back. One arm circles your waist and pulls you closer and the other pets your hair, the scented oils in it slicking his hand and smelling of lavender blooms and blue winter rose. He digs his nose into yours and allows himself to melt into the feeling of you, of being with you again. 

“You devious little vixen,” he scolds you suddenly and makes you laugh. 

“I prefer the term clever fox, but…” you don’t get to finish your thought as he lays you down and smothers your lips with a passionate kiss. Every ounce of warmth and feeling you had for him years ago floods back into your marrow and overwhelms you until tears glide freely onto your face and your chin warbles pathetically. You really have missed him. So much. 

Your head spins as you gasp for breath and Koner turns his attention to lavishing your jaw and your neck with more kisses, his fingers tugging at the leather cord that keeps your shift closed over your throat. 

Then he pulls away suddenly and stares you down. “How? How did you do it? All of it– convincing Lord Cerwyn to bring me back, to stay longer– what in seven hells do you mean longer? How long? Just… how?!” 

There is something dark and unknown to him in your eyes. He was familiar with your virtuous highborn nature, your peaceful but competent leadership, your quiet passion. And he was familiar with how filthy you liked to be fucked too. But this thing, this ambitious intelligence he sees now is new to him, latent in its awakening and calculated. To him now, it is wall he did not know was there which you were now allowing him to glimpse, one that no other man, not even your husband had seen before. 

“Bearing sons is my basest purpose, Koner,” you reply authoritatively. “And keeping me happy is at least secondary among my husband’s duties. I believe my… unusual behavior during my pregnancy is what motivated him to make the suggestion himself that you should stay a little longer.” 

Koner’s brow furrowed. You hadn’t asked him to stay longer. Lord Cerwyn did…? That was… odd. 

“... are you going to think about it all night, or are you going to make love to me, Snow?” 

Koner’s face colors a high red at the dauntlessness of your language. It told him everything he had been dying to know all along. That his love was not one-sided. That although time and circumstance had kept you apart and would take you away from him again, your heart belonged to him just as his belonged to you. That you loved him… 

“Actually I think I have to fuck you,” he says as he climbs off the bed and works his belt off. “I can’t be gentle, not right now.” 

He sits on your hips and when your hands reach for him, he pins your wrists down. “Six years of fucking my fist and wasting my seed. I can’t be the man you knew before, not yet. I have to ravish you…” 

The tinge of fear in your eyes is offset by the subdued feeling of you trying to rub your thighs together. Your gasp turns quickly into a lewd mewl as he rips your pretty dress in half. You pant under him like a mare in heat and glare, grumbling, “I loved this dress…” 

“Sorry,” he says without a hint of remorse, then slams his lips into yours and tears through your shift as well. 

He really isn’t the young boy you knew– he seems stronger, his chin is dotted with hair that hadn’t been there before. He looks every bit the northerner he was supposed to be (you’ll soon learn it to be a small mirage. Once he shaves and his chin is bare like a child, he looks like nineteen again). It makes the blood pulsing in your womanhood throb and your channel slicken quicker. 

“Fucking take your clothes off,” you growl and bite his lip hard. 

Koner chuckles and stands again, rushing to rip off his clothes as you let your torn ones fall to the floor in a heap and toss aside your small clothes as well. His big, rough hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, helping you get onto the bed and laying bare beneath him. 

“So fucking gorgeous,” he growls as his big, predatory eyes drink you in. 

Your arms are thrown over your head and twitch as you resist the urge to cover yourself. “Even now?” 

He knows what you mean. After the baby, your hips and belly are fuller than they had been the last time he had had you. Your breasts sag a little and there are stretchmarks all around your skin. Koner’s manhood twitches with interest. 

“You are more beautiful now than you have ever been,” he replies with determination. “And you will be even more beautiful when the gods bless you with another child.” 

The kiss he lays on the hollow of your throat is brief, and then you are pushing his head down your torso and trying to hook your legs around his neck, which makes him laugh and resist you only to make you grunt in frustration. He peppers as many kisses as he can while you work your way around his playful sport, and his nose burrows deep into the curls atop your mound to inhale your sweet scent. Just as he remembers it. 

“You have to be quiet, my lady,” he says as your heel comes down on the nape of his neck and dips his chin into the pooling slick of your sex, “we wouldn’t want Lord Stark or his children to here you getting your cunt licked, especially not by a bastard who’s not your husband.” 

Instinctively, your hand flies to your mouth, just in time to muffle the squeak that comes from feeling Koner’s nose bump the engorged pleasure button that sets fire to your blood. He promises himself that he won’t get too distracted with this task as his throbbing cock begins to leak needily. He needs you just as bad as you need him, but he has to prepare you. Your body hasn’t taken him in so long it’s hardly going to remember how. 

He hums pleasantly as he tastes you. A tart tang bathes his tongue as he laps up the creamy slick gathering at your entrance and he is quick to work two of his long fingers into your cunt to work you open. 

You squirm under his every ministration and babble tearily. “I missed you so much those first few weeks before I realized I was pregnant. The babe in my belly was a lovely distraction, but then… then my body started to change and I… I started to get cravings…” 

Koner wraps his plush lips around your button and sucks on it gently, humming and bringing your orgasm to the brink. “Cravings?” 

“Sex,” you gasped. “Every waking moment I was tortured with need to be touched and kissed and fucked. My husband tried– gods he tried– but even when he did make me come, it wasn’t enough. He called me insatiable…” 

The combination of Koner’s light chuckle against your sex and his rough touch you made stars explode behind your eyes and your back bow. The man delighted in the feeling of your cunt crushing his penetrative fingers. He needed it on his cock. 

Not another word crossed his lips until he was grunting, filling you up with one motion made easy by your stretched, relaxed state. Your soft hands smooth up his belly, trailing back down and brushing through the hairy trail leading down to the thicket of hair around his manhood. He leaned over you and wrapped you up in his arms, kissing you soundly until you are both breathless. 

“Insatiable, eh? I think I can help you with that, love," he says with a gorgeous smile. 

"Oh, of that I have no doubt," you reply cheekily. 

Your soft laugh turns into a pleased sigh as Koner begins to move within you. It feels like coming home for both of you, a reunion most unexpected and welcomed. Koner's knuckles brush over your open mouth and he raises his eyebrows meaningfully at you. 

You snap your mouth shut to at least try and suppress your noises. "Sorry…" 

And even though he promised to ravish you, he finds his body moves of its own will, taking you with slow, deep thrusts that have you circling your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck, whimpering. Everything feels too good to be true. The feel of your womanhood molding snug around him, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back, the extra softness of your belly skin. His hips jerk and give a particularly deep thrust that makes you gasp and throw your head back. His grip on the pillow is so tight his knuckles turn white. 

"Not a complaint, but," you smirk and brush some of his hair from his forehead, "I was promised a ravishing."

"Right," Koner says hollowly, and he wills it too, wants it, but his body responds against his own wishes and slows to a stop with his hips flush against yours and his own face dumbfounded. 

"Is everything alright, Koner?" A look of worry creases your brow. 

Embarrassed, he buries his face against your collarbone and holds you tight to his chest. His cock is still hard, throbbing even, but it is as if the desperate need that had consumed him earlier had been satisfied even without having spilled his seed. The logic confounds him as it has never been this way before. 

"Koner," you whisper into his ear to coax him up. "What's going on in that head of yours?" 

Koner sighs, and the words flow out of him from somewhere in his mind that even here had not been aware of. "Just… want to stay like this for a while, that's all. I thought I needed… but I think I just… needed to be closer with you." 

"...okay," you say and smile up at him. "Whatever you want, dear. We have time."

After a quick adjustment, you find yourself laying on your side with Koner pressed into your back and sliding his cock back inside you, where he claims you are snug and warm around him and he just wants to stay holding you for a few hours before he fucks you. His hair is soft as it tickles your face and peppers the gentlest kisses along your neck and your shoulder before settling his chin in the crook and closing his tired eyes. 

“I love you,” he whispers so quietly you almost think you imagined the words. His ears are pink again and his chin digs into your tender muscles. 

But you know you can’t say it back. Instead you press yourself harder into the wall of his body and hold his open palm against your chest. “Can you feel the way my heart is beating, Koner?” 

You feel him nod against your neck and hope he understands all that you mean to convey to him without damaging your marriage vow. In a just world, it would be him as your devoted husband and you the lord of the castle. But the laws of gods and man were stiff, and you would settle for taking what pleasure you could for as long as they would allow.

Back to Part 1 | Main Masterlist | The Bastard In Your Bed (Hard Version) **coming soon TBD**

Now I made a second version because I wanted more plot and sex but I didn't want to completely scrub this version either so you get OPTIONS you're welcome 😘

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

HI DEE HO, SINNERS, THE TIME TO PINE IS NIGH

Since there was a 💖 very sweet anon 💖 who requested a Part 2 for Koner (Game of Thrones) that fic is at the top of my completion list and already over 2,500 words because I cannot be contained

I'm not excellent with schedules, but I do have a small back log of WIPs that are almost ready to be publicised and might be released once a week. A summary of just a few are as follows:

--Quinn Characters--

Bat!Eddie Munson multi-fic series WORKING TITLE: Hello Again, Hawkins

Ralph "Heart Eyes" from Timewasters and Ill-Tempered Spinster Reader (grumpy one and sunshine one? Yes please)

Numerous unfinished Eddie one-shots

--Keery Characters--

Filthy filthy Kurt Kunkle Camboy shit I mean just... DIRTY

Werewolf! Boyfriend! Steve Harrington (two parter, both smutty)

More Steddie/Reader Polycule because two toys are better than one

Part 2 of Koner's Kinktober fic will be posted later this week! Friday or sooner

[beelicious-and-fictitious]

Joe Keery Character Masterlist

Main Masterlist

This is a collection of my all of my fics written as pairings for Joe Keery’s characters. All NSFW fics are marked as SMUT!

This list is currently just Kinktober prompts, however I am actively writing new Keery and Quinn fics as we speak!

Reader Insert Fics

Steve Harrington from Stranger Things (2014-present)

Day Four: Breathplay & Missionary | 2.5k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you are sexually repressed and obsessed with Steve Harrington

Clinomania | 2.5k words 🔥 SMUT 🔥 | You're having trouble leaving the comfort of your bed, but best boyfriend Steve is happy to start Valentine's Day anywhere

My Big Shot, My Star | 5.6k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Your movie star boyfriend Steve takes you out for a date on Valentine's day in Hollywood

Day Seven: Costumes & Sex Toys | 2.5k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Steve gives subbing for his girlfriend (you) in a dress one more time

Day Eight: Creampie | 1.6k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | riding your boyfriend Steve in his parent's garage

Day Nine: Double Penetration (+ Eddie Munson) | 3.6k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you and your boyfriend Steve take Eddie to a secluded campsite with a sexy ulterior motive

Day Eighteen: Bondage & Lingerie (+ Eddie Munson) | 4.2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you and your boyfriends Eddie and Steve roleplay a darker version of your D&D characters

Day Twenty Three: Orgasm Denial | 1.6k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | tutoring your high school crush Steve in your college dorm room

Kurt Kunkle from Spree (2020)

Day Fourteen: Love Bites/Marks | 2.2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | helping the Kunkles move and playing a super perverted game with their adult son

Fire Hazard | 5.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | It's Valentine's Day and you are having second thoughts about what you want from your boyfriend

Day Twelve: Hate/Angry Sex | 1.9k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | alone with a dangerous, bored, and very horny convicted murder

Day Twenty One: Nipple Play | 2.5k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | sequel to Day 14; getting braver with your game and touching each other with his parents in the room

Day Twenty Two: Object Insertion & Phone Sex | 2.6k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Camboy sub Kurt preforms a special livestream

Day Twenty Five: Sex Pollen | 4k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Kurt contracts a temporary medical condition, and as his best friend, you are determined to help him through it

Day Twenty Eight: Formal Wear & Strap-Ons | 2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | getting kinky at an influencer costume party

Stuck | 2.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you drop something and get stuck grabbing it, but your boyfriend Kurt's here to give you a hand (and then some)

Walter "Keys" McKeys from Free Guy (2021)

Day Fifteen: Overstimulation | 2.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | you and your boyfriend Keys do some semi-public sex shit at the office

Getting Off | 3.5k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | The "cop" arresting you is wearing a cock ring and you get out of trouble by bending over for him

Day Five: Leather/Latex | 1.1k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Keys gets some one-on-one with his favorite camgirl

Day Seventeen: Licking | 2.2k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Keys pays for the girlfriend experience

\\Return to Main Masterlist for more fics by yours truly//

Day Twenty Six: Wax Play | 3.8k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | Keys is nervous about a date and asks for help with some hair removal

Nurse Jack from Alter's How To Be Alone (short film 2020)

Spicing Things Up | 5.3k words 🔥SMUT🔥 | You introduce your boyfriend Jack to your extraterrestrial appendages

-------------------------------------------------------