#but why the FUCK is Donna laughing???

[tophsazulas]

#both of you go fuck yourselves

[highlifeboat]

If y'all wanna know what it's like watching me play RE8, this is it tbh.

[roturo]

CRY FOR ME -dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: sex pollen, old lovers meet again.

→ summary: He loves you, he really does, but he left you. Months wondering why he did that had you crying for him, never ending the never-ending cycle of the abandoned by Dick Grayson wasn't in your to-do list. It's time to hit him with a smile, rather than a goodbye that would leave him wondering.

→ warnings: SMUT, angst, sex pollen, mating press, breeding kink, marking, fingering & oral (f receiving), mutlipes orgasms, overstimulation, mention of weight loss (but it's never specified how much or the weight of the reader exactly, neither a body type), hero into villain!reader, med student!reader, mentions of kory and dick being together but never in a relationship, reader is friends with harley quinn, reader was part of the og titans.

A/N: I'm really proud of this one, might even do pt2 if it gets support. -Words: 3.4k

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

¨And you know what I hate most of all that shit he put me through?, He-¨

¨Can you please stop talking about Dick Y/N? It's been MONTHS, damn it! almost a year! You're driving me nuts! I'm not even Dick's ex, or friend and I already hate him as much as you do. So let's move on.¨

¨You don't understand, I was a good girlfriend! Shit! I even became a hero for him! Now look where we are.¨

Harley laughs at your remark of how the tables have turned.

Both of you were sitting at the top of a building eating some ice-cream, which Harley insisted on steal from a random kid on the street, after robbing some random store she liked a collar from, you were now looking at how police officers where trying to look for a culpable of this crime.

It's been 11 months and 5 days since Dick broke up with you. You couldn't AND still don't understand why he did it, both of you were fine one day and the next one he decided, 'oh how could I destroy the woman of my dreams heart?, I know how! What if I tell her I don't need her anymore in my life and she's useless! then some months later fuck some fire princess and act like i'm a new person with this new suit and name! oh! also, re-do the titans! when my ex helped me do the og ones, helped when the fell apart but she's useless anyways!'

To say you weren't deep down for him, would be a lie. You don't know how he could keep laughing everyday knowing how his little trauma ass dumped you like trash. Well, if you're being honest he doesn't have a small ass, but that doesn't matter.

¨Aw, I want more ice-cream¨ Coming back to earth after some deep thoughts, Harley grabbed you by the wrists in order to change up and start looking some restaurant for dinner.

After changing clothes and Harley talking about how obsessed she´s with the Joker, you couldn't quite blame her, both of you were finally walking on the street, laughing at some random inside joke both of you had.

¨Huh.¨ Your phone started ringing and you could swear if it wasn't cold enough to freeze you up, the call was. ¨Who is it?¨ Harley asked, sneaking through your shoulder.

¨OH! Donna?, the cute girl you talked about?¨

¨Shhh, let me attend this call... Hello? Donna?¨

¨Y/N, um- hello! How are you? It's been what? one year since we don't talk?¨ ¨I'm... fine. How about you?¨

You were quite confused for this call, on the outside you're calm, but inside, you're freaking out.

¨I'm good, it's nice to hear you're doing fine!¨ ¨Thank you Donna, but I know you just don't call to ask how i'm doing, what's wrong?¨ ¨Oh well, you quite know me well Y/N, i'm sorry it seemed that way, but you're like the only person I know who could help us with some medical issues, you know? So I wanted to ask you if you could come and help us to deal with Conner, and maybe stay some days...? i'll explain you who he is and all of that later.¨ ¨Donna, you know i'm not longer on the me-¨

Harley pinched you in the arm, trying to talk but you were faster. ¨Ow Harley! Stop it!¨ You told your best friend in a whisper so Donna couldn't hear the both of you, also covering the microphone of your phone, for... extra precautions.

¨You don't understand! This is an awesome opportunity! You're going undercover in the titans tower! Imagine how crazy Jack (Jocker) would be! Say yes!¨

Thinking it for a few seconds, she was right, you could get some important information from them, it was indeed, an awesome plan.

¨Who knows, you might also see bird-boy again!¨ She said raising her eyebrows in a teasing way making you roll your eyes.

¨Y/N? Are you still there?¨

¨Yes, when do you need me to be there?¨

¨Erm... now if it's possible¨

You were now unpacking your suitcase, Donna told you to pack for at least a month, isn't that incredible?

You haven't come across any of the other titans, beside, Donna, Dawn, Gar, Rachel, Jason and Rose... Quite interesting team.

You didn't introduced well to the kids since you were in a hurry to enter your temporary room and not ran into someone else...

While you were unpacking your old tools Wayne gave you while you were their medical support 'hero' maybe also because you were a med student, you still helped with fights, bruises and hits.

You found the 'special' bandages you had for Dick, since the 'normal ones weren't soft enough for his bruises' a small smile appeared on your face at those old memories.

Now unpacking your clothes, you found three special lingerie underwear with a note from Harley:

'Just in case you have some fun ;)

xx Harley~'

The note made you roll your eyes but you couldn't deny it brighten your mood, throwing away the not and putting aside the 'Harley present', you continued unpacking your clothes, you brought in a separate case for your suit, just in case.

¨Y/N! Can you come here?¨

¨Coming!¨ maybe you could order the clothes other time.

When you entered the living room, the kids were no longer there, except Jason.

They started explaining you what happened between Deathstroke and what they know about Conner, you were paying attention to know what you're dealing with, you haven't even realize Dick came in sight until Dawn mentioned it.

But Dick didn't came alone, he was next fire princess which you couldn't care less to investigate her name when you found out about Dick meeting her.

¨Oh Dick! We brought Y/N so she could help us with Conner, since we don't have anyone else who knows about this weird medical stuff.¨ They know what happened between you two, and they still decided to ask for your help knowing he's going to be here.

You stood up from the sofa, eyes locking with his, you couldn't longer see the coldness in his eyes, but there wasn't warm either, you couldn't quite decipher what he's feeling.

¨Kory¨ She gave you her hand at which you responded with your name and doing the same. You locked eyes with her for a brief moment, a small smirk appeared in your face but disappeared once the greeting finished.

¨Y/N.¨ You locked eyes with him, a tension only the two of you could feel. You were different, much prettier, you lose some weight too, blame it on the break-up depression, but you were shining.

¨Grayson.¨ Hearing you say his last name instead of his name he could feel a small part of him getting shattered inside him, you changed.

After checking on Conner and taking some notes, it was finally night time, you were eating some cereal, knowing more about Gar and Rachel, Kory, Dawn, Donna and Robin were dressed up with their suits.

¨We have some issues to deal tonight with another troublemaker, nothing serious though, just a one night problem.¨ Dick announced while getting ready to go out.

¨Y/N, you should come! Maybe warm out a little like the old times." Dawn invited you, how nice of her, only if she knew you were also a troublemaker.

¨No thank you, i'm only here for medical support.¨ You gave her a small smile and said your goonights.

Some knocking in your door woke you up, it only passes one hour since you went asleep and they're already annoying you, first day!

¨Y/N? Are you awake?¨ You heard Dawn saying though the door.

¨Mmh¨ You replied.

¨We need you, it's Dick.¨

Even more annoying.

You walked next Dawn through the halls until you finally came into Dick´s room. Inside they were Donna and Kory, clearly concerned about his well being.

His behavior seemed, weird, there wasn’t any bruises or cuts, not even blood. He was just twisting in pain on his bed. You stepped closer to him, and got your hand on top of his forehead at which he only whined, that scared you, since it sounded more like a moan than a whine. He was hot, sweating and moving a lot.

You had your suspicions what this could be, but you needed to confirm it, this can't be real.

¨Can you please... tell me with which villain you fought with?¨

¨Ivy¨ Donna said.

Shit.

¨I need to make a call¨ you quickly said running out of the room.

¨Surprise, surprise!¨ Harley said in her taunting tone. ¨Oh my god Harley, I can't believe you.¨ ¨Well, you know a girl needs to help her best friend, so... I called another friend and voilà!¨ ¨What am I supposed to do? I don't have the fucking cure for sex pollen Harley! I owe you one, can't believe Ivy did this for me.¨ ¨You just said it, sex. C´mon Y/N!, it's your moment to play with him! He had you like a sad girl, why don't turn her into a mad girl? Make him cry for you. Break his heart like he did with you.

You ended the call, and just in time, Kory came. ¨Y/N, we need you Dick keeps talking about you and rambling about some stupid things.¨ You could sense a strange behavior from her, like if she just discovered something big.

Watching Dick twisting in pain and saying your name in just some black briefs felt good. You can't lie to yourself Harley was right.

¨It's sex pollen¨ You admitted.

¨And what's the cure? Do you have it? That's why you made the call?¨ Donna asked.

¨No, the only cure for it it's well... sex. The pollen might last for at-least 3 days or even a week, symptoms are well... extremely high sex-drive, dehydration, high temperatures, and... I think that's all.¨

Donna chuckled at what happened to Dick, ¨Let's go girls, let's leave this to Kory.¨ Dawn just laughed at a very shocked and blushed Kory, ¨Don't be like that Donna, Kory and Dick haven't confirmed anything yet.¨ You felt your jaw clenching, but decided to act calm, and when all of you were almost leaving, you were stopped.

¨No. I want her.¨ Dick said, pointing towards you. All of you stayed quiet at the sudden confession. You were shocked to say at least, blood rushing to your cheeks, you were about to leave that damn room until you remembered what Harley said.

Cry for me.

Donna grabbed your shoulder, looking at you. ¨You don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable.¨

¨No. It's okay, i'm in.¨

After mentally preparing yourself, bringing some water bottles into the room, they left you alone with him.

You sat next to him on his bed, memories came back flying around the both of you.

¨Look, I know that-¨ He completely cut you off when he started kissing you, making you lay down on the bed, you left a small moan when he broke the kiss for a moment.¨Oh my god, you don't know how much I wanted to kiss you again.¨

Did he missed you? Every question that came to your mind was easily erased when he started kissing and sucking your neck while unbuckling your jeans and taking them down with your underwear, he pulled apart to admire the bruises he left, he grabbed your panties and threw them to his nightstand.

He started kissing your thighs, making small pauses on each to make sure he's marking you as his again. Every time he went higher until he gave a small peck on your clit. ¨I can't wait to taste you sweetheart.¨ There it is... the nickname.

He got your legs over his shoulders and gave a testing long lick on your pussy, teasing your hole. At which he started sucking your clit once he heard the high pitched moan you did when he teases your hole.

His started spelling his name with his tongue on your pussy at which it only made you hornier, suddenly he inserted his index finger inside you. Dick sped up, fingers now flicking in and out of you at light speed, nose pressed into your clit, and before you knew it you were cumming, shuddering on his mouth, crying out his name.  Quickly he took all the remaining clothes from you and him, now both of you completely naked for each-other.

He was rock hard. No, scratch that, his cock looked like it was made of fucking ruby. Red and painful and already half-soaked with pre-cum.

He pressed your legs impossibly closer to your torso, moving down to meet your eyes, until you were folded in half beneath him, legs on his shoulders, putting you into a—

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was going to be a long night.

He fell on his forearms, and you wondered how much more you could take- He laced his fingers on top of your head, thumbs on your forehead, holding you still. He mumbled out another gonna make you feel s’ good before pounding you in earnest, practically bouncing you both on his mattress. His balls smacked against your ass, and the feeling was so damn satisfying that he just had to go harder. You would sport matching bruises tomorrow, his hips on your ass. You pushed out moans in time with his unforgiving pace, a metronome playing the beat to which his sanity danced away from him. 

“More?” He sounded fucking pathetic, like he was asking himself that, his voice octaves higher than it usually was, but he didn’t care. “More, you little slut? That what you want? You want more?”

“I’ll give you more,” he babbled, “More, baby, give you more give you everythin’ gonna fuck you so hard you won’t walk for weeks.”

He’s not too worried about hurting you—you’re already so wet—more that he’s afraid he’ll cum the second he starts moving again. Out of his previous partners, he doesn’t think any of them have felt this good around him.

“Please-” a strand of incomprehensible begs and pleads leaves his mouth when he starts thrusting into you again.

¨Shit- how are you even tighter huh? You've been keeping this tight pussy just for me?¨ He's a whiny mess, small kisses every time he cans, praises here and there.

“Mmm yes please yes please yesyesyesss—” was all you could manage. He laughed at you, breathless, and you wondered how he could keep up this pace and still rattle off incredibly filthy little comments, looking right in your eyes. 

“You’d like that? Yeah? Gon’ look so pretty, little baby, so pretty full of my child, yeah? All round and glowing and heavy with me. All of ’em will look at you and see me, all me, see that I did that. You want that? You want that you want that—”

He leans forward to coo praise into your ear, gently nipping at your earlobe. Goosebumps raise along your exposed flesh. The sound of skin slapping on skin echoes through the stairwell. Sometime during this his teeth find the soft muscle of your neck, leaving a crescent shape mark that’ll certainly bruise in the morning.

You're pretty sure everyone on this tower have heard the both of you fucking like rabbits by now, but knowing this was going to follow him his whole life, with the memories of him fucking you every way possible just so you could leave him, it's all you need to don't care about that.

The first time he cums, he doesn’t even realize he has. He shudders. It felt good—a bit too good—but nothing out of the ordinary. It makes him do a double take. His cock doesn’t even go soft. Drips of cum run down your thighs, pooling on the bed-sheets beneath you.

His thumb traces circles around your clit, moving in erratic, uneven motions. Dick leans back down for another kiss. You can taste yourself on him, though it’s not entirely unpleasant. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him to your chest. The two of you can only fuck and cum until you’re too exhausted to continue. You’ve never felt so full. The thought of using protection crossed your mind once—and only for a moment—the pollen leaving you too desperate to care.

Second day and he wouldn't give you a break to nap for a minute.

His body curved and bowed, hips pressed hard against you, arms below your body and hands gripping your shoulders. “Mmm fuck baby,” Dick muttered into your mouth, your moans coming out of you almost breathless. “Yeah, yeahyeahyeah milk me fucking milk my cock gonna cum in you fuck a baby, my baby into you and you’re gonna fucking take it take it nnngh —”

He buried his face into your neck, teeth latching on to skin, biting down to draw blood, a choked groan as he came, really came, his balls squeezing painfully, a deep ache in his gut, indescribable tingles all along his cock, his spine, down to the soles of his feet.

Third day, and you started getting him where you wanted it.

“Sensitive,” you hissed, “Sensitive, Dick, you insatiable—”

“Insatiable is right,” he said to you, eyes wide, still looking like you just told him the Earth was flat. He towered over you, kneeling now, and with horror and a bit of something else you felt how hard he still was. 

¨I missed you so much, the biggest mistake of my life was leaving you.¨

Fourth day he started getting sensitive but that didn't stopped him, and he was a little more languid, strokes slow and smooth, his thighs shaking just a bit as exhaustion started to settle in. His cum was spreading in a pool on the sheets now, and you couldn’t bring yourselves to be even a little disgusted. He loved it. He loved so much how it felt that tears dropped from his eyes every-time he felt that electric shock come to him when he was about to come. He was crying for you.

Last day. Fifth day. Barely even thrusting anymore, just a slow grind of his hips, the friction and the pressure and the raw sensation squeezing out what could have been an orgasm if only both of you were awake enough to feel it.

When you both woke up the next day, he was staring at you, straddling your hair, and that's when you knew it.

¨Good morning sweetheart.¨

You just answered with a small ¨hey¨

¨I never through of seeing you laying next to me again, it felt like home. I'm sorry I did that to you, you don't know how much I regret it, please, give me a second chance.¨

Bingo.

Without saying a word, you grabbed some shirt of his, long enough to cover yourself and went back to your room, stumbling and shaking someway you made it. You changed yourself, taking a minute to observe how he marked you, it was time.

You went back to his room, already changed, you gave him a smile and sat on the bed with him, with no emotion behind your eyes, it was your time.

¨You were ready to leave me for her.¨ Confusion, first stage he made you go through.

¨I was doing fine, really, but then you walked again into my life again and fucked me up.¨ Sadness and lies. Second stage.

¨You think this will make me stay?¨ You signaled the both of you. ¨You think with just some stupid sex to heal you is enough of an apology?¨ A laugh escaped your mouth. ¨You thought this was real?¨

¨You know for a fucking fact this wasn't supposed to happen.¨ You got your hand on top of his, faking a caring smile looking at him.

¨When friends of yours make jokes about how you always leave them, you think it's funny, but it's not. That hurts a lot, actually.¨

You got up from the bed and stepped closer to the door, you paused for a second and turned around to see a hurt Dick naked on the bed with just some blanket covering him.

¨And Dick... Of course I still love you, if it wasn't for me, I would go crying and throwing myself into your arms again.¨

¨You still can.¨ He tried.

¨No.¨ You chuckled. ¨I won't let myself get hurt again. Our love isn't worth the fight. Goodbye Dick Grayson.¨

[itneverendshere]

you were all i wanted but not like this - rafe cameron

pairing: rafe cameron x reader (fem!reader)

WARNINGS: angst <3; just angst.

watched mamma mia and remembered how sam pissed me off when he left donna lmao; self indulgent honestly (haven't written in like a month so decided to get back into it with a smaller piece); hope you enjoy!

you should’ve known better.

the weight of realization presses upon you like an anvil on your chest, each breath drawn heavy with the gravity of the situation. 

sleeping with a guy on the same day you met him? risky.

proceeding to spend the next three months with him? delusional.

falling for him while simultaneously knowing nothing about his life back home? stupid.

the sting of embarrassment gnaws at you and it feels like you're rotting inside.

you want to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all, make a fucking scene out of it. of all people roaming the earth…rafe had to be the one your cousin was dating.

rafe, as in your summer romance rafe, your rafe. 

oh my god!

he didn’t even tell you his surname, didn’t tell you shit and yet, just weeks ago, you were ready to move halfway across the world in hope of finding him again. 

you should've seen the warning signs flashing in neon bright before you. the damage is done, the wounds self-inflicted.

rafe's eyes widen imperceptibly as the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, fitting together with a sickening clarity, a flicker of recognition crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a practiced smile. 

but you see it, that moment of realization, and it only fuels the fire of anger burning within you.

"so, rafe cameron," you say, each word laced with a bitter edge that you can’t quite suppress, "so nice to meet you."

his million-dollar smile falters ever so slightly, a faint tremor betraying the cool exterior he tries so desperately to maintain.

“pleasure's all mine.”

yeah sure it fucking is.

you don’t utter another word to him. as you navigate through the party, each step feels heavier than the last, burdened by the weight of your self-recrimination. the pulsating beat of the music throbs in your temples, matching the rhythm of your racing thoughts. you move through the crowd with mechanical precision, engaging in polite conversation. you plaster on a fake smile and pretend like everything is fine.

what the fuck? how did you let yourself get in this situation in the first place? it’s a new kind of low, even for you. and why is the cameron household so confusing to walk around?

you can barely see straight with the headache taking place in your mind, the bright lights only wanting to make you burst into tears now and then. 

“let me explain.”

rafe comes out of nowhere, ambushing you before you can get to the door.

a groan slips past your lips, “go fuck yourself.”

“let me,” rafe pleads, his tone tinged with desperation, eyes roaming your face for so long.

a bitter laugh bubbles up from deep within you, incredulous at the audacity of his request, “you think i wanna hear anything you have to say?”

he sighs, closing his eyes, “'meant every thing i said back in skopelos, okay? i didn’t lie.”

“you didn’t tell me shit,” your voice strains to keep calm, “not about you, not about your family, not about a fucking girlfriend, you said nothing. a summer flling, yeah i get it, i can get past that. but making me the other woman? are you serious?!”

you had allowed yourself to be swept away by his charm, by the promise of something more. 

“there was no girlfriend!” he says, but you don’t believe him, squinting up at him with a frown.

“right,” your voice is monotonous, “you got back, what? three weeks ago and magically got one.”

“we weren't together, broke up with her, i swear— n'then you left, i thought i was never gonna see you again."

are you that easily replaceable?

if he cares so much why didn't he look for you? why didn't he break his stupid rules and ask for you number like a normal human being?

“oh go eat a cock.”

you turn on your heels, ready to put an end the conversation and to never see him again. you can feel your nails starting to break the skin on your palm and the subtle taste of copper on your tongue.

“hey—hey, hey, baby wai—“ 

as soon as his hand touches your arm, you’re pushing him away as hard as you can, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, “don’t you dare. touching me is a privilege you do not have.”

the pain of betrayal, the humiliation of being used and discarded. you feel so stupid. tears cascade down your cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane, the weight of your emotions threatening to engulf you.

“please don’t cry,” rafe begs, fingers itching to hold you, “baby—“

“stop!” your voice cracks with anguish as you choke back a sob, wrapping your arms around yourself, seeking solace in the warmth of your own embrace, “just stop.”

“i don’t have a choice here,” his voice comes out all rough, as he tries not to cave in and cry, “you think i want to be with her when i could be with you? you—jesus, d-do you not understand how hard is it—“

“don’t finish that sentence,” the anger in your voice cuts through the air like a knife, your words dripping with bitterness and hurt, “it’s hard for you? you?!” 

rafe opens his mouth to answer, but he finds it hard to pass the thick lump in throat, “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“you never do.”

his gaze falls to the ground, unable to meet your accusing eyes. he knows he messed up, knows he's hurt you deeply. can’t even find it in himself to explain, tell you how it’s all his father’s fault, that he only got back with her because ward told him to.

how pathetic would that sound? 

‘'m sorry," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the din of the party, “’m so fucking sorry.”

but his apology feels hollow, empty, like a bandage over a gaping wound. the damage has been done, irreparable and raw. you shake your head, unable to find it in yourself to forgive him, 

“too late."

[handful0fteeth]

hot for teacher

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

pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader

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

words: 13.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Really, really badly.

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

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

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

Everything would be fine…right?

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

He's here.

Oh, God.

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

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

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

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

Is he…nervous?

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

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

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

You cock an eyebrow. "Lucille?"

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

"Found what?"

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

"Do you see it?" he asks excitedly.

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

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

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

"There you go! Do you see it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?” Very astute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn’t think so."

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

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

So, you oblige him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ticklish?"

"Uh. No?"

It's a lie. A bad one.

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

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

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

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

“Y/N?”

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

"Hm?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's…well…it's interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Seriously?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like that?"

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

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

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

"Fucking fantastic."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Go for it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gotcha."

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

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

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

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

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

"Cute?" You don't know if that would've been the word you'd have picked to describe yourself right now, nor had anyone ever done so before. Despite the flush rising high on your cheekbones, you pretend to be more offended by it than you really are.

"Adorable," Steve coos, a smug smile sprawling across his handsome face. "And the noises you're making are even cuter. Have you been saving those just for me?"

You're speechless. You can't deny it, but you sure as hell aren't going to confirm it for him, either. His head will get so big you worry it'll fill the car's cab until you're both suffocated by the sheer mass of it. You sit up as much as you can against the car door, tugging the hand still woven with yours and smiling audaciously at him. You cross pinched fingers in front of your lips in a zipping motion, twisting them at the corner and flicking your wrist over your shoulder. My lips are sealed.

Steve scoffs. "Oh? We'll see how long that lasts, pretty girl."

Steve thrusts his fingers deep inside you again, fluttering them against your g-spot, then spits on your exposed clit. He dips his head and licks up the saliva trickling down your slit in one slow, hot strip, eyes never leaving your face.

You press your lips together tight, screwing your eyes shut and exhaling hard through your nose. Your legs are trembling, you're gripping his hand so tightly you're surprised he isn't complaining of bruised bones yet, and your chest is heaving with the effort of staying silent, but you're winning.

Or, at least, you think you're winning.

That is until he stuffs his fingers so deep inside you that it causes his hand to curl upward, almost cupping your cunt in his palm and grinding the heel of his hand into your tender clit. You can't help but gasp as he outright abuses your g-spot, rubbing circles against it with such pressure that even if you wanted to make noise, you can’t - the pleasure radiating from your core has snatched your voice away. You can't even draw in a satisfying breath and only manage a few sparse, shallow gasps.

"You done acting like you're not gonna give me what I want?" Steve asks, voice dripping with sweet condescension. You sob. It takes a stammering, whimpering, tear-filled moment before you gather enough oxygen to reply.

"U-Uh-huh, I'm - shit - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Steve…."

"Atta girl." Though his fingers don't relent in the brutal pace they've set, he does bend his hand down enough so he can lap at your clit again. Tears eke out of the corners of your eyes and drip slowly into your hairline, and when you find your voice again, it bursts out of you in a broken scream.

It takes thirty seconds of consistent attention before he's got you close again, and you warn him of that fact by whining and tugging on his hair.

"You gonna cum for me?" he huffs, breath washing over your sensitive skin.

"Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck - oh fuck me, Steve -!"

"Soon, baby," he hums.

Your orgasm crashes into you full force, and your throat burns with the force of your wailing as you arch off the backseat; you guarantee you're pulling some of Steve's hair out with how tight your grip is, but he is decidedly unfazed. He milks this moment for all its worth, never stopping or slowing in his ministrations.

Tears flow down your cheeks freely, soaking into the neck of your shirt and wetting the hair you'd spent so much time on. The pleasure crescendos into something too intense to handle quickly. You choke out a few half-assed pleas, your brain melting out of your ears at this point, far beyond being capable of intelligible sentences, and Steve ignores you.

Clearly, you don't decide when Steve Harrington is done - he does.

Your orgasm seems to go on for days, months even, and just as the pain begins to nip at the edges of your earth-shattering pleasure, as you almost snap your legs shut and beg Steve to please just give you a small break, you feel it. 

Your second orgasm. Building, apparently in secret, riding the tails of your first one and sneaking up on you to the point you don't notice you're going to cum until your cunt spasms around Steve's fingers again.

"C-C-Cumming, cumming again, fuck, oh God, fuck, I can't - Steve, I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Steve assures, fingers working impossibly faster. You're astonished he doesn't have the mother of all hand cramps right now. Perhaps he does, and he just doesn't care. You don't think you care, either. "You can cum for me again, Y/N. Come on. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl."

This time, you don't even have the strength to scream. You weep and sag against the car door, body tremoring and barely managing a few pathetic pleas between hiccuping breaths.

You're drenched in sweat, and you're sure your makeup is fucked because of it. That and the tears, of course. You must look utterly trashed, but when Steve finally pulls off your poor, sore pussy with a pop, he looks at you like you're the single most beautiful creature on the planet.

He goes to wipe his lips with the back of one hand, and you notice slick shimmering down his chin and even splattered onto his neck. It's only then you feel the absolute lake of cum that’s accumulated beneath your ass, and your entire body burns bright red with embarrassment. He raises himself up on his palms, his arms boxing you in tightly.

"You are so gorgeous," he says, cupping your cheek in the hand that isn't glistening with your cum. You laugh shakily and lean into his touch.

"Sorry… 'bout your seats," you offer weakly, and he shakes his head. "You can ruin my upholstery anytime."

Steve leans down, dark eyes scanning your face, and smiles. It's a sweet, lopsided expression, nowhere near the self-satisfied, almost sadistic grin from earlier. They both quicken your pulse, but this one assures you you can at least take this moment to recover from possibly the best orgasm of your life.

First and second-best orgasms. Wow.

He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He slots his leg between yours, narrowly avoiding the puddle you've made, and cradles your head as if he's the only thing keeping it from flopping sideways. Frankly, he is. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead before leaning his own against it.

"You okay?" he asks. You nod, sighing and swallowing despite your parched mouth. Your hands rest atop your chest, curled up into each other meekly as you try to regain any semblance of strength in your extremities. You bump your lips into him again briefly.

"You're a remarkably fast learner, Steve Harrington," you mumble, voice hoarse. He chuckles. 

"It's easy when I have such an incredible teacher.”

It takes a few minutes to clean you - and the car - up. Steve digs around in his glove box for some old fast food napkins and gingerly sops as much of your cum out of his seats as he can while you lay on your side, curled up and heavy-lidded as the adrenaline slowly dribbles out of your system. He dabs the sweat from your brow, following the rough, cheap napkin with gentle kisses to soothe your flushed skin. Afterward, he bunches the napkins and shoves them in his passenger side door before rejoining you in the backseat. 

He hoists you up onto his lap and guides your head onto his shoulder, allowing you to nuzzle your face into his neck and inhale his scent as he rubs your back.

"Any more pointers?" he asks just before you've dozed off. You smile and shake your head.

"None whatsoever. You've exceeded my greatest expectations, dear pupil." He laughs and thumps your back appreciatively. It's not until you're readjusting slightly to get more comfortable that you realize something - Steve is still hard. Achingly so, it would seem, as you can feel the rigid denim stretched over his bulge so tightly you're surprised the zipper hasn't popped clean off. Heat stirs in your belly, and you make a soft, serene noise in your throat as you grind your bare pussy into his lap.

His hips stutter upward just enough for you to bounce slightly, and you giggle into the crook of his neck. "We still haven't taken care of you yet." "We don't have to if you're too tired," he assures you, voice little more than a deep hum against the shell of your ear. "I'm happy just makin' you feel good."

You consider it. You know you'll be sore tomorrow, regardless of if you choose to have more of Steve Harrington stuffed inside you, and your clit is throbbing and achy to the touch. You could fall asleep on his chest right now; he could keep you in this beautiful, dreamlike space for the rest of time if he wanted to. But there's a part of you, a part much, much louder than the part complaining about your sore slit or exhausted body, that is dying to know what Steve's dick looks like.

You leave a trail of kisses up from the hollow of his neck to the curve of his jaw and blink at him happily. Once your faces are close enough that his eyelashes are nearly tickling your cheekbones, you snake one hand between your bodies and trail a finger over the cold metal teeth of his zipper.

"Just 'cause my cunt is sore doesn't mean I'm totally out of commission," you purr. "And since you did so well with your mouth on me… don't you think it's fair I return the favor?"

You feel, rather than hear, the low moan that rumbles through Steve’s chest at the insinuation. You hook your nail through the eye of his zipper and give an experimental tug.

"Can I suck your cock, Steve?"

His lips are on yours almost before the question rolls off your tongue. His fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you still as his tongue explores inside your mouth. Steve's natural taste mixes with the taste of your slick in an intoxicating way, but just before your head starts spinning, he breaks the kiss enough to breathe, "You're gonna have to move, baby."

Of all the lewd, downright filthy things Steve Harrington has done and said tonight, the way he slurs the word "baby" against your swollen lips is the thing that makes you blush the hottest.

He reaches behind you and opens the car door, and you both shiver slightly as the cold air rushes in from the forest and cools your sweat-soaked skin. He pats your thigh and juts his chin forward, so you awkwardly clamber out of the BMW despite your wobbling legs. You lean one hand on the car's roof while Steve scoots to sit on the edge of the backseat and swings his legs onto the ground.

He brushes past you as he emerges from the car, planting a quick kiss on the top of your head before he pops the trunk and struggles with something inside for a moment. With a victorious smile, Steve waves the same raggedy blue towel that had been wrapped around "Lucille" before assuming his spot in the backseat again. He folds it in half once and lays it out between his spread legs atop the mud and sparse grass you're standing on.

"So you don't get your legs all dirty," he explains, observing your mildly confused expression.

"My legs?"

"It'd be killer on your back, sucking my dick while you're bent at the waist, wouldn't it?" Steve laughs, undoing his belt with deft fingers while he watches the realization dawn on you. "The least I can do is make you more comfortable and keep the mud and crap off your legs, right?"

“Yeah…totally…”

Words escape you as you watch the metal of Steve's belt buckle glitter in the moonlight while he slips the leather out of the loop. His shirt is riding up just far enough onto his stomach that you can see a dark thatch of hair leading upward from the hem of his jeans, and at that moment, you are determined to follow Steve's happy trail with your tongue at some point. As he pops the button on his pants, you release your grip on the car and collapse to your knees. You grab his hands and pull them out of the way, splaying your fingers across his thighs and squeezing.

"Let me," you say, eyes darting between his mostly undone jeans and his face. He chuckles at you, and you try to commit his crooked, sweet smile and warm brown eyes to memory. He's beyond handsome, drop-dead fucking gorgeous - and he's letting you suck his cock. You take a moment to thank whatever deity or greater cosmic force that's brought you to this exact moment in your life.

"Be my guest," Steve says, leaning back on his palms and staring down the bridge of his nose at you. You lean forward, using the grip on his legs to keep balance and capture the end of his zipper between your teeth. You drag it down agonizingly slowly while keeping complete eye contact with him. You can't look away from his amazed and steadfastly aroused face. Pants fully unzipped, you think you can make out that Steve is wearing dark red boxer briefs.

Very normal, all things considered, but you know in the back of your head that this particular shade of red will always make you horny now - Pavlov's dogs had their bell, and you drool at the sight of Steve Harrington's underwear.

Steve lifts his ass off the backseat just enough for you to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. You could pull his cock out through his underwear, but no, you want to see all of him, every last inch. Fair is fair, right? 

Steve is…fuck, he's big. Bigger than you ever even fantasized about. 

His cock springs upright fully after you've freed it from his boxers, and with a hard swallow and a fluttery feeling in your gut, you realize it's big enough to touch his navel. It curves toward his belly, an angle so perfect it's impossible not to imagine how it'll feel inside you once you can handle it. The head is flushed a dark red and slick with precum, and you watch in reverence as a milky bead forms at the slit. It's all you can do to not surge forward immediately and lick it off. The hair covering the base of Steve's dick and balls is dark, nearly black, and unexpectedly curly compared to the other hair on his body.

You reach a tentative hand out and wrap it around his shaft. He's so thick your fingers barely touch once you've made a fist. Steve hisses at the feeling and drops his head back a little.

"You're…so fucking big," you say breathlessly. Steve laughs and cards a hand through your hair, brushing sweaty strands away from your forehead. 

"You think you're gonna be able to handle it?" His voice drips with fake sympathy, so you nod your head despite being unsure. The head is so big you worry you won't be able to fit it in your mouth without your back teeth accidentally scraping it, let alone have it go down your throat. But the cocky, smug look he wears makes you want to suck his dick until he cries, just like you did. 

You nudge his shirt further up his torso, noting how solid his abdominal muscles feel beneath your palm, and dip your head down to his happy trail. You lay soft kisses amongst the thick, coarse hair, and Steve subtly squirms.

"Ticklish?" you ask. He narrows his eyes.

"Don't even think about it."

You chuckle, sorely tempted.

You copy his actions from earlier and lick a long, hot stripe with your flattened tongue up the entire length of his cock, stopping only to swirl around the head and lap up his precum. The salty taste blooms across your tongue and your mouth embarrassingly floods with drool as you suck and lick more of the flavor into it. You inch carefully down his shaft, opening your jaw as wide as possible to avoid an encounter between his dick and your molars and twirl your tongue around the length in your mouth to make up for what you can't wholly swallow yet. One hand wraps around the base to make up the difference, stroking up and down slowly as you bob your head.

It's an interesting, intricate dance, trying to fit Steve Harrington's monster cock in your mouth without outright biting it. You persuade your gag reflex to let him go down your throat a bit more, your quick strokes getting slicker and slicker with the drool that pours freely down Steve's dick and wets his pubic hair. Breathing through your nose proves difficult when his massive cockhead obstructs the back of your throat entirely, but you manage well enough.

Steve is absolutely beside himself. He's moaning unabashedly, and it's like music to your ears. He's the first man you've ever been with who makes noises outside of oddly paced-out grunts or a random curse word here or there, and it's having more of an effect on you than you ever could have imagined. You press your thighs together as more slickness drips from your throbbing cunt, free to gush almost to your knees without the interference of your panties. 

"Fuck, baby, fucking shit…fuck yeah, just like that… you're sucking my cock so good, you look so fucking hot right now, oh my God," Steve babbles, eyes fluttering and head lolled over to one side. He bucks his hips, probably involuntarily, and his cock bumps the back of your throat just hard enough that it makes you gag.

You cough and pull off him far enough to take a breath, your hand still firmly locked around his base and wet with spit. He laughs breathily and caresses your cheek as you pant.

“Sorry…sorry…I didn't mean to choke you. You're just… you're so good…."

"You can, uh…like, do that again if you want," you say shyly. Steve cocks an eyebrow.

"Do what?"

"That. What you just did. Again."

"You want me to gag you like that again?" It's said with genuine surprise, not judgment, and you smile sheepishly at him.

"Kinda, yeah…only if you're okay with it too, I just…I can handle it…."

He considers it, absently twirling a few strands of your hair around his fingers as he mulls your request over. Then, both hands slide to the back of your head and gather your hair into one large, tight handful that makes you sit up straighter. Cold air gusts against your freshly exposed skin, and you shiver as Steve leans forward and kisses your forehead. He uses his other hand to pull his jacket tighter around your body, tucking the collar against your throat.

"If you can handle it," he says, and with one smooth push, he's shoved you back down on his cock. The head bumps the back of your throat hard, and though your entire body jerks forward as you gag, Steve doesn't relent. He seems as determined as you were to fit the daunting length of his dick down your throat, and the fact you practically begged him to facefuck you appears to have dissolved any lingering inhibitions he may have had. He keeps one hand securely fisted in your hair, and the other moves to feel where his length is bulging through your throat. He hums lowly and strokes his fingers over your taut flesh.

"You can take more than that, can't you?"

You haven't even begun to respond before he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his way past your uvula, and you can only gag and shudder as your nose gets buried in the thick curls at the base of his cock. He guides you back by your hair only far enough that his head isn't bullying into your airway anymore, then pushes you back down - he does this over and over, hardly letting you have a moment to breathe while he chases his pleasure. You moan as you realize you've essentially become a means to an end, a method of reaching an orgasm, a warm, wet hole for Steve to fuck his cock into, and your fingers sneak down between your thighs to rub your aching clit.

Though you try to be discreet, you're soaked, and you can't do a thing to hide the obscene squelching sounds your pussy makes as you grind into your hand. Steve, with sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and drunk on lust, laughs.

"You're so fuckin' cute. You like bein' my cocksleeve that much, pretty girl?" You attempt a nod and a noise that leans toward acquiescence, and it's good enough.

Steve sets a rigorous pace, bringing you down far enough to kiss his pelvis every time, moaning a little louder when the muscles of your throat contract around his thick shaft as you gag. You are, admittedly, worried you'll puke at some point, and the thought of having arguably the best sexual experience of your life ruined by you blowing chunks all over Steve Harrington's penis does, unfortunately, cross your mind. But before you can dwell too long on it - and before the building nausea becomes too much for you to handle - Steve pulls you off his cock.

Your lips pop wetly as they leave his shaft, and you gasp shakily, the sudden influx of oxygen almost dizzying. Drool drips freely from your aching jaw and the thick strand of saliva that connects your mouth to the head of his dick glints in the moonlight overhead. Your fingers never stop working your clit, though your orgasm ebbs away after your throat ceases to be utterly abused.

"Why'd you stop?" you rasp.

"Was gonna cum too soon," he chuckles. You whine and surge forward, but you're stopped by the firm hand still ensnared in your hair. You crave the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue so intensely, and the fact he isn't letting you have it right away fills you with tantrum-level frustration.

"What, you want it?"

"Yes, Jesus Christ, please."

"Aww. You can beg much better than that." His fingers curl, tugging your hair at the root and jostling you back and forth a little.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he starts dragging you further away from his shining, dark-red cock. Drool and precum ooze from the tip and you can see it twitching every few seconds, and though your throat feels raw and sore, your jaw aches, and your legs are alight with pins and needles, you need it back in your mouth. You could kneel here all night, and you would swear you were in heaven. The brazen fire in your belly has been snuffed, replaced with the most thrilling need you've ever experienced, so you can't think of anything snarky to say in response. Instead, you do as Steve says, and you fucking beg.

"Please, please give it back, Steve."

"Give what back, baby?" he purrs.

"Your cock."

"What about my cock?"

"Please give me back your cock, Steve. Pretty please, I need it."

He clicks his tongue at you, giving your head a little shake again while your eyes are helplessly fixed on his glistening shaft. "Hmm, I still don't believe you."

A broken sob falls from your mouth before you can help it, and you paw helplessly at his thighs. "Please, please, please, fuck my face, Steve, please. I need it so badly. Please give it to me. I'll do anything, just please...."

He smiles and coos at you, bending down slightly to kiss your forehead softly. "You sound so pretty and pathetic for me, baby," he hums.

Your mouth is full again in a flash, and this time, it's evident that Steve has surpassed any pretense of being gentle with you. That clumsy, nervous boy from earlier has melted away, leaving this commanding, exceedingly bold, and surprisingly dominant man in his wake. His voice has lowered to just above a growl, rough with lust. The way he's reclining back and fucking your mouth like he's pumping into his fist, the way he teases and mocks you and eggs you on - it's fucking intoxicating. You can't get enough. You want him to go further; you want more, more, more.

"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming, fuck Y/N," Steve gasps, placing both hands on the sides of your head and driving his cock down your battered throat. The heat of your impending orgasm begins to pool between your hips, and you rub your clit furiously as you gaze up at Steve, trails of mascara-riddled tears tracked down your spit-wet cheeks.

The exact moment his cock pulses and the first hot, thick rope of cum shoots down your throat, you push yourself over the edge of your third orgasm of the night.

You moan as much as you can around his dick, body spasming uncontrollably, and the vibrations from your noises make him grip the seats beneath him so hard you think he’ll shred the upholstery. You try to swallow as best you can, and Steve does mercifully pull out just enough that the head of his cock rests against the middle of your tongue, allowing you room to breathe. His cum is salty and heady, and you're immediately addicted to it, and you hollow your cheeks to greedily suck more of it into your mouth. He looks at you with worshipful adoration, like you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your hand drops from your overstimulated clit as your orgasm abates, and you use it to hold onto Steve's thigh for balance. You distantly feel embarrassed about smearing slick on his jeans.

When Steve pulls his spent cock from your mouth and releases your bunched-up hair, you fall forward unceremoniously into his lap. You pant raggedly into the fabric clustered around his upper legs, trembling like you've been tossed in the snow. He praises you under his breath, almost like he's not entirely cognizant of what he's saying.

"You did such a good job, God, that was amazing…you did so well, baby…fuck…."

You smile dreamily, glowing under his praise. He pets your hair absentmindedly, and after a while, he gingerly guides you back so you're sitting on your haunches, the rough terrycloth of the towel digging into your knees. He looks beautiful in the bluish light of the evening, hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles, cheeks still dusted a light pink, lips swollen and red and wet with his spit. Steve cradles your face in his hands and rubs at the greyish tear tracks streaking your cheeks, almost embarrassed of their presence.

"Are you okay?"

You nod sluggishly, nuzzling your cheek into Steve's surprisingly rough palm. He smooths the frazzled hair he'd been tugging on so enthusiastically back away from your damp forehead, fluffing it apologetically once he realizes the style you'd sought to achieve is thoroughly ruined. You're sure you look destroyed, to be fair - most of your lipstick is smeared messily on the lower half of Steve's softening cock, so you imagine the rest of it is smudged down your chin and across your cheeks. When you wipe the back of your hand beneath your jaw to catch a few stray tears, your skin is stained blackish from the mascara-laden liquid. Definitely not Harrington-proof, you note amusedly.

"Lemme help you up," Steve says, scooting forward off the backseat and bending toward you. One arm snakes around your waist and tightens against the small of your back; the other hand knits itself against your right hand, and when Steve pulls you to your feet, you're pressed flush against his chest, bodies entwined like partners gliding across a dance floor. Despite everything that's happened in the last hour, you still giggle nervously at the lack of distance between your face and Steve's. He smiles sweetly, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

The hand clasped in Steve's twitches toward your lips reflexively. Your mouth still tastes like his cum, and while you certainly don't mind, you aren't sure if he will. He notices your hesitance, and after a moment, the reason seems to click for him. His smile grows imperceptibly.

Steve takes your face in both hands and kisses you deeply, licking your bottom lip before sliding his tongue against yours. Your already weakened knees wobble, threatening to let you drop like a ton of bricks right back to the rumpled towel beneath your feet. The tangy taste of your cunt still lingers on his tongue and mixes with the salty flavor coating your mouth; it's addictive, and for a moment, it tricks you into thinking you could go just one more round. The way your clit throbs painfully at the mere insinuation, however, quickly dispels that idea.

Steve presses a final, sweet kiss to the tip of your nose after he pulls away from your lips, and the way his eyes sparkle at you in the moonlight dashed across his face makes your stomach flip excitedly, a sensation you're almost embarrassed to feel. It seems too innocent, too chaste after everything you've done tonight, but your cheeks flush hotly regardless.

"You…are something else," Steve says quietly, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"You're one to talk."

You turn your head toward his palm, kissing his warm skin. The yellow-green light of his watch glows out of the corner of your eye, and when he twists his wrist a bit to the side, you catch a glimpse of the numbers.

No. No, that can't be right.

Steve makes a discordant sound as you yank his arm back toward your face, pushing his sleeve up to his elbow. You must've read the time wrong; it can't be that late.

But there it is, clear as day, in blocky electric numbers. Your curfew, which you've never broken, passed almost half an hour ago.

Your heart plummets down through your stomach, and you swear you hear it plop into the dirt at your feet.

"I'm so dead," you murmur, and Steve cocks his head quizzically.

"What?"

"I'm dead!"

You scramble toward the rearview mirror and tug it upward. You look absolutely wrecked. How will you explain why ninety percent of your makeup is gone? Why your hair looks like you've just gone through a tornado? Steve huffs out a confused laugh.

"Am I…missing something?" he asks, leaning casually against the side of the car. You tug the collar of your shirt up and scrub at your mouth - it makes your lipstick look worse and stains the inside of one of your favorite tops. Shit. You frenziedly try to work the buttons on Steve’s jacket closed, desperately tugging the collar up in an attempt to conceal the rapidly deepening red blotches he’s sucked into your skin. They’ll bruise by tomorrow, and if you weren’t in a blind panic, the thought would turn you on. Admittedly, it still does.

"I'm so, so late. My mom is gonna kill me," you say frantically. Maybe it'll be dark enough that no one will notice your lipstick…but they'll definitely see the black trenches carved into your cheeks. Shit.

You turn to the side, trying to tame your hair into a halfway decent shape. It doesn’t work, and you exhale roughly through your nose; the scrunchie you always wear around your wrist is snatched off, and you twist your hair into possibly the sloppiest, worst bun you’ve ever created, but it’ll have to do. Every single aspect of your appearance is like a bright red, flaring neon sign blinking above your head, ready to announce I HAD HOT SEX, AND THAT’S WHY I’M SO INCREDIBLY LATE.

You know it shouldn't matter; she doesn’t have much recourse since you're an adult, but fear still pangs in your gut so hard it makes you nauseous. You can picture it now, tiptoeing into the living room just to have the lamp in the living room flicker to life, your enraged and concerned mother silhouetted in the dim yellow light. You're sure you'll be able to see the steam rolling off her body in waves from where you'll be standing at the landing of the stairs. You'll be lucky if she lets you leave for the supermarket after this, let alone on another date.

"Shit, is it really that late?" Steve asks, and how his voice pitches up in genuine confusion only aids your panic. He bounds to the driver's side of the car, almost tripping over his feet as he fumbles the keys from his pocket and slams them into the ignition. Your butt barely touches the passenger side seat before the engine roars to life, and Steve slams on the gas.

Apologies tumble freely from his mouth as you clumsily clip your seatbelt into place, and you assure him it's alright as best you can while licking your fingers and scouring the mascara stripes off your cheeks. It doesn't work and tastes weird, but it's all you've got.

~~~

When Steve screeches up your driveway, you are an hour past curfew, and that’s only by the grace of God and Steve’s disregard for speed limits. 

You sling your purse strap over one shoulder and almost kick the passenger side door off its hinges as you get out of the car, but just before you're about to bolt up your driveway, you pause.

It wouldn't kill you to be just a little later, right?

You whip back around, and Steve stares up at you, a little breathless, flushed, and still so beautiful. You grip the edge of the window and bend down, poking your head inside the car.

"I had an amazing time," you say, and you wish Steve wouldn't smile at you the way he does because it makes you want to say, "Fuck it," and hop back in the car. But he does, and you don't, and he nods.

"You wanna do it again sometime? I mean, not, not it, like a date - well, we can do it again if you want to. I'm just saying we don't have to…."

He sighs, and you pretend not to notice the flexing and unflexing of his hands on the steering wheel. It's endlessly endearing how nervous he is when he isn't jamming his cock down your throat or eating you out like a starving man. Something in your mind wants to see how flustered you can make him, but you silence it.

"Such a way with words," you tease, and you cup his cheek in your hand. You kiss him tenderly, hoping it encapsulates everything you want to say but don't have time for right now. Fingers slide up the nape of your neck and ensnare themselves in your hair, keeping your lips locked for a few moments longer. Your mouth is swollen and chapped, but you'd kiss him all night if he'd let you. Maybe one day he will.

"I'd love to do this again, by the way," you hum against the corner of his mouth. "Assuming I live past tonight, that is."

"Looking forward to it, Y/N. Oh, and, by the way…."

He grips your hair, not too hard, but just enough to where you stiffen and let out a soft moan. He peppers kisses along your cheek, to your temple, to the shell of your ear.

"I'm keeping your panties. Maybe next time I'll shove 'em in your mouth if you try to play the quiet game again with me."

He releases his grip on your hair, and his hand purposefully slides along the curve of your jaw until it reaches your chin. He pinches it between thumb and forefinger and kisses the bewildered, now painfully aroused look off your face before leaning back, giving you a wink, and revving the car's engine.

"See you soon, baby," he calls. His car crunches back down your driveway, and you're left standing there, brain short-circuiting and threatening to melt out of your ears, hyperaware of the cold night air nudging against your bare pussy under your skirt. You press your thighs together and jam fabric between them self-consciously, hoping against hope that you won't flash your poor, unsuspecting mother, who is undoubtedly waiting for you to chew you out.

You turn unsteadily, gazing up at your house. The living room light is already on, and you can see a lithe shadow flitting anxiously from within the windows. You're going to get an earful.

It was so. Fucking. Worth it.

[rebeccasteventaylor]

It’s just - Fourten loves Donna so damn much. It’s a platonic love but no less deep - it really shows how a non-romantic love can still mean the whole fucking universe. It can still be the most powerful force in the universe. The Doctor loves Donna and she loves him, and he finally expresses.

Remember that hug at the end of Midnight? Like he was hanging onto her with all his strength? And she was so surprised? Because he didn’t do that. He laughed and joked and hinted but never said. Never expressed.

Now he expresses his love and need for her at every opportunity. He stares at her by his side and is delighted beyond measure she is there. He holds her and kisses her and shakes jokes with her and loves her.

This is why the doctor has this face back. Not to save Donna (although thank all the beings in the universe he did). It’s to save him. Give Fourteen to a chance to say the things Ten never could

[makeithappenandreal]

If Donna stayed the Doctor's companion Part 2:

12th Doctor: *trying his best act* Look, Donna, So I am with monks now, I don't care about the Earth or your people...

Donna: You know I can tell the type of breakfast you had today from looking into your eyes at this point , right?

Donna: So wrap your acting up, we have an afternoon tea arranged at Jupiter after we get this monks out of the Planet.

12th Doctor: Can't you just play along for once...

-

12th Doctor: I can't tell Donna that I am blind! She will fuss over me!

Nardole: You need to tell her! How can you hide it?

12th Doctor: Trust me, she will not notice one single thing.

Donna: *the second she walks into TARDIS* You are still blind, aren't you?

12th Doctor: Oh for Time's sake...

_

11th Doctor: So, River is Amy and Rory's daughter and she is also my wife as well... Does that mean Amy is my in law?!

Donna: She can berate you Like a child at any time. Living my dream for real

_

Donna: ...

12th Doctor: Not another word-

Donna: WORLD PRESIDENT LOL *bursts out laughing while pointing at him*

Donna: UPGRADE FROM TIME LORD VICTORIOUS THO

12th Doctor: Oh hell.. *puts his head on his hands*

_

_

War Doctor: We are surrounded by knights, we need to do something to escape!

11th Doctor: Oh there is no need to espace. Watch. Donna?

Donna, from the portal: YOU STUPID SPACEBOY WHERE IN THE EARTH ARE YOU AND I AM COMING THERE TO KICK YOUR IDIOT ASS TO SPACE

Knights: *run away in true terror*

10th Doctor: It's like we never left...

_

12th Doctor: *after turning up on the coffee shop Donna's relaxing* So, remember Davros?

Donna: ... Of course I do.

12th Doctor: *laughing nervously while thinking how he fucked up* So Guess what...

_

10th Doctor: *getting married to Queen Elizabeth*

Donna and 11th whispering aggressively behind* : - I cannot believe you did not mention you were married to QUEEN ELIZABETH! -.OBVIOUSLY i diDN'T KNOW!-

_

12th Doctor: So this is Gallifrey!

Donna: I thought it was Space Eden or something from the way you described it, this is just red sand. Like literal Azirona has more eccentric places than here.

12th Doctor: ...i sincerely want to believe I will be able to impress you one day because this is killing me.

_

Donna: So...

12th Doctor: ...

Donna: Why did you kidnap the president's wife?

12th Doctor: Oh, Heaven, you had a conversation with Missy, didn't you?

Donna: I literally have enough material in my hand to embarrase you for at least one regeneration, yeah.

Missy: She is my favorite.

_

13th Doctor: *steals Donna's coats every once in a while and does not give the clothes back*

Donna: *rants to her about that but secretly loves it*

_

12th Doctor: Clara, please be rational and give the TARDIS keys to me.

Donna: *whispers to Doctor* Not to interrupt an emotional moment but she does know you can just snap your fingers and get into TARDIS doesn't she?

12th Doctor: *shakes his head slightly*

Donna: Also that I have an extra key...

Donna: In fact I have a bowl of them because you like the noise the keys make when you drop it in there

Donna: But I guess this is what we are doing because you like to see people in angst. Okay.

[thebearer]

honestly, thinking about the last episode and thinking about pete, and i am an honest to god pete defender.

like he is so good to sugar, and tries to hard to be good for her, good for the whole family. he knows how fucked up they all are, and he's just there- a little sunshiney boy trying to keep everything together. he has the best of intentions, he really does.

the scene with donna outside the restaurant. how he's just trying to do what's best and he feels empathy for her? he sees the best in people and honestly, i get why they're hard on him- he's not their usual type in the family, but pete deserves all the love and support genuinely.

just picturing your first true berzatto family get together. donna wants to see the new baby, so they have it at the restaurant. steven and michelle from out of town, jimmy, leo, donna, everyone- the whole gang. you're overwhelmed, especially when donna starts drinking.

pete just kinda comes and sits by you, while you're alone and unsure in the corner. you'd already been hounded with a million questions, carmen is trying to keep the peace in the kitchen, trying to check on you, trying to keep everyone from killing each other.

"how are you doing?" pete asks, sitting beside you, baby mikey in his arms.

"i-i'm good." you muttered, eyes darting around the room.

"it's a lot." pete sighed.

"it is a lot." you muttered, nodding slowly. "i mean, i knew it was gonna be a lot. carmy warned me on that but it's like..."

"so much worse than you thought it would be?" pete looked at you carefully.

"yeah." you nodded. "i, uh, i understand a lot more now."

"they're, uh, they're actually really nice. all of them, on their own." pete offered. "like steve and michelle, they're great, really. easy to talk to, always really nice, super fuckin' funny. and...and you know jimmy. leo is... leo's kinda a ball buster. got this dry sense of humor, but he'll be nice to you, a little invasive you know? but he's got good intentions."

you nodded slowly, eyes scanning around the room towards each person. "what about his mom?" you muttered, looking at the white haired woman nursing another glass of chardonnay. "she, uh, she hasn't spoke to me the whole time. i tried to introduce myself and she walked right past me." you tried not to sound hurt, carmen told you to shake it off, but it did hurt. that was his mother, no matter how he tried to play it off.

"donna is... donna is a lot." pete hummed. "she... you can't force donna. ok? she'll come to you when she's ready. right now, she doesn't know who you are. and as fucked up as it is, it's her way of looking out for carm, looking out for herself. just give that one time. she's watching you."

you scoffed lightly. "yeah? that supposed to make me feel better pete?"

"no. no not at all." pete laughed. "but, just some advice. you gonna leave carmen anytime soon?"

"no." you furrowed your brows, shooting a glare at him.

"then you show her that. she'll ease into you. i promise." pete said.

"thank you, pete." you nodded sincerely at him. "thanks for this."

"of course." pete grinned. "it's a lot and they're all too caught up in their own to try and help so... we outsiders gotta look out for each other."

you laughed lightly, looking down at the baby in his arms. he had the berzatto nose, carmen's and mikey's. "you're not an outsider anymore." you grinned. "not with this little guy."

pete smiled proudly. "i'm still an outsider. just got like a lifetime pass in." you laughed, reaching out to stroke the baby's soft tuft of hair. "you wanna hold him?"

"are you sure?" your eyes flashed to him. "i'm not great at it."

pete shrugged, fishing his hand sanitizer out and tossing it to you. "just don't drop him. i won't abandon you with him. promise."

you freshly sanitized hands shook lightly, grabbing the baby a little unsure, shifting the weight in your arm until it was comfortable. baby mikey gurgled, face scrunching for a moment, before he settles, lulled back into whatever rest he was in before.

"ah, he likes you." pete boasted. "must know you're gonna be a vip like me."

you snorted lightly, swaying back and forth with the tiny baby. "yeah. hopefully."

"you will be." pete nodded, his eyes cutting over to the figure by the windows. "judging by carmy's face, you definitely will be."

you looked up, seeing your boyfriend standing there, a water in his white knuckled grip staring at you. you smiled gently, nodding him over.

"they got you on baby sitting duty?" carmen grinned, trying to play off how flustered he was before, how his heart was skipping a beat seeing you like that.

"somethin' like that." you hummed. "pete just asked if i wanted to hold him. he's cute. kinda looks like you."

carmen scoffed as pete boasted. "he does, doesn't he! i told nat that and she told me i was crazy! see, nat!" he stood, going to get his wife from across the room, a promise he'd be right back.

carmen slid into his spot, leaning over your shoulder to look at the baby- his nephew. "he's cute." he nodded. "sorry you got stuck with pete." his tone snarled, rolling his eyes gently.

"hey, stop that." you frowned. "pete is very sweet, alright? he's a good guy, carm."

carmen could feel his shoulders tense. he was a good fuckin' guy, he knew that, that's why they gave him such a hard time. "you're right." carmen muttered. "he is a good guy."

"what were you two talking about?" carmen asked, letting the baby wrap his tiny fist around his finger.

"he was just telling me about your family."

"oh." carmen rolled his eyes sarcastically. "i'm sure that was great."

"it was." you said firmly, looking at him. "all the good stuff, baby. promise."

carmen blushed, resisting the urge to kiss you while his sister and pete came back over, pete exaggeratedly talking about how the baby did look like carmy and mikey and you agreed, which then brought jimmy over to give his opinion, stevie and michelle following, until everyone was around you bickering and throwing back and forth about who was right.

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ 𝆬  ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴍᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʙʟᴏᴡ ᴊᴏʙ 𝆬 𓏸

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Kunikida, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Fyodor, Sigma, Nikolai

content: nsfw, praise, degradation, oral sex | reblogs appreciated!

The second DAZAI'S eyes flutter open, there's a smirk stretching his lips wide apart. You're all pretty between his legs, your lips glistening with saliva and his precum where you've closed them around his aching cock, and, well, how could he possibly resist such a perfect opportunity to tease you?

Words of degradation and praise alike leave his mouth as he leans down and cups your face in one hand, his thumb smoothing over your flushed cheek, and he outright chuckles when you gag as he suddenly thrusts his hips forward, catching you entirely off-guard. Given how you've been at it for quite some time, it doesn't take long until he comes; he makes sure to spill onto your face, however, with his cum soon dripping off your forehead and the bridge of your nose, some of it even having caught on your lashes. He's a jerk through and through, but be at least offers to make you come.

“Oh? My, bella donna, don't tell me you were too needy to wait until I'm awake! How adorable you are, truly — come, up you go; why don't you show me just how much you want me to fuck you, hm?”

CHŪYA is more than surprised when he wakes up to pleasant warmth around his dick. For but a moment, he's terribly flustered, with his cheeks turning a pinkish colour, though he huffs out a laugh a mere moment later, his smirk amused.

He tilts his head back with a groan when the tip of your nose brushes against his abdomen, the head of his dick nudging against the back of your throat, and he moans in pleasure when you gag around him, a pitiful whine leaving your mouth. He's one to question where you'd like for him to come, though, well, you can't really respond with your mouth full, which is why he decides for you and comes down your throat moments later.

“Fuck, wouldn't have thought you'd be into something like this, baby. You feel so damn good around my cock—, fuck, it's like you're made for this. Good girl. Come on, take some more.”

RANPO'S signature smirk appears on his face the second he lifts the blanket up, only to find you slurping on his dick. He tilts his head to the side, and amusement all but drips from his voice as he asks just what exactly you think you're doing the same way his precum drips onto your tongue.

While he's terribly smug about you wanting him this much, he lets you do all the work. The urge to occasionally thrust into the tight heat of your throat is present, sure — he's but a man, after all —, but the sight of you bobbing your head up and down eagerly to please him is even more intoxicating. By the time he comes, he demands that you wake him up with head daily from now on.

“Oh? Are you enjoying yourself, love? You certainly look like it, drooling all over my dick like that. Bet you're dripping wet yourself. Why don't you touch yourself for me while you keep on pleasuring me, hm?”

Let's be real; FYODOR probably knew that you were planning on waking him up in a rather special way even before you had the idea in the first place. Because of that, he's not particularly surprised when he, one morning, opens his eyes to you gagging on his dick, though a pleased smile finds its way onto his lips nonetheless.

He immediately teases you for how needy you are, and for how terribly insatiable, for how sinful, you're behaving, though he himself isn't any better, honestly. He enjoys it whenever your saliva, as well as his precum, coat your chin and drip from your swollen lips, though he's mean about scolding you — just like he's mean about fucking your throat. Don't you dare complain about his rough pace, though. You're his to use, after all.

“My, what a messy pet I have. And such a needy one, too. Oh, how good would it be if you were able to see yourself right now, drooling all over my cock like a slut. On second thought, why don't you get me a camera real quick?”

SIGMA'S eyes widen the second he gazes down his own stomach, only to find you between his legs, your lips stretched obscenely wide around his cock. The slurping and occasional gagging noises cause his cheeks to flush, though he can't deny that this feels damn good.

He swears he's trying to be gentle as he bucks his hips into your mouth, his thighs shaking when you suck at the head of his dick, your tongue swirling around it, and, God, you're way too talented with your mouth; he's choking out praises while you keep sucking him off until he comes down your throat, and, afterwards, he's quick to offer to repay you.

“Ah, love, you're so good—, you feel absolutely amazing. So close—, please, darling. Oh, God, that was something to wake up to. Now, let me make you feel good, yes?”

NIKOLAI'S smirk is terribly smug when he gazes down at you, his arched eyebrows raised. He's surprised for a moment, though he adjusts to the situation quickly, and he might just call you a whore for doing something this depraved.

One large hand of his rests on the back of your head, his nails scratching over your scalp until you moan around his dick, the noise muffled and your eyes fluttering closed. While his tiny gestures seem loving at first, he soon all but pushes your head down, and, no matter how strong you are, you really don't have a chance to pull back. He chuckles, amused, when you gag and choke, tears welling up in your eyes, and you really don't have to hope for any mercy or pity; your suffering only causes his dick to twitch in your mouth.

“Oh, come on, you can take it, dear! I believe in you; besides, don't you want to please me, darl? Don't look at me like that now — you've gone without air for longer than this before!”

ATSUSHI's whole body seems to jerk by the time you flatten your tongue against the underside of bis dick, and it takes quite a bit for him to process the situation, still tired as he is. When you bob your head up and down, though, a loud and entirely unashamed moan leaves his mouth and his back arches off the bed, his thighs spread wide.

While there's some initial embarrassment at first, with his cheeks flushing pink, he gets over it quickly. Soon enough, he's all but thrusting into your mouth and down your throat, and he's really not trying to be rough, he swears, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you, but it feels so damn good — he can't help but get lost in the pleasure. He's quick to spill down your throat with a grunt, though he also hurries to apologise for doing so without asking moments later.

“Ah—, you're so good, please, please, I'm so close, so damn close, don't stop. Oh—, oh, did I—? Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to come, you know, inside—”

It takes a while for KUNIKIDA to wake up even after you've put his dick into your mouth, but by the time he does, there's a heavy blush spreading from his face down his neck. He's in utter disbelief, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, though this really isn't the time to scold you about manners and what a lady should and shouldn't do; instead, a moan claws itself out of his throat when he opens his mouth to say something.

Moments later, he simply gives in, and praises leave his lips naturally. His hand moves to your head, though more to guide you than to push you down. He's especially weak for when you moan or whimper around his dick; the vibrations make him groan in pleasure. He's intent on pulling out before he comes, though, no matter how much you reassure him it's alright to come into your mouth.

“This is most indecent—, hah, though I guess it can't be too bad when you just wanted me this badly. Please, do continue—, God, that's good. Just like that. Good girl.”

AKUTAGAWA is a light sleeper; the second you close your lips around the flushed head of his dick, his eyes snap open, and for a mere moment, he's simply irritated. It only registers to him that you're between his legs, pleasuring him, when he gazes down at you, all wide-eyed and sucking him off, and a groan falls from his lips.

Despite being initially unhappy at being woken up this abruptly, he can't exactly complain, not when your mouth is this talented. Still, he's rough when he thrusts up into your mouth, wet heat engulfing the tip of his cock as it pushes down your throat, and he can't say that he doesn't enjoy the way you gag just a little around him, protesting moans leaving your throat. His smirk is well-hidden, but smugness seems to radiate off of him when he comes into your mouth and you struggle to swallow it all.

“God, you're needy. What, you want my dick that badly you couldn't even wait until I woke up? Hah, fine then. Show me what you can do.”

➛ this work was commissioned by @ queenquixotic!! 💜 thank you sm again for commissioning me and letting me post this!

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@the-foreigner465 @dei-lilxc

[lostaurorax]

breeder

pairing | husband!travis kelce x wife!reader

summary | travis, jason and donna are filming a new episode of the new heights podcast when the topic of breeding gets brought up and things escalate

warnings | indications of sex & breeding kink!!

authors note | i absolutely LOVE this man so i thought why not write a fic for him!!! lmk what u think and if u have any requests send them my way :)

travis, jason and their mom were all currently recording a new episode of the new heights podcast. they had gotten onto the topic of who donna would save if she had to pick between travis and jason.

“who do you actually root for? in the battle to the death..me versus travis who are you rooting for?” jason said as travis laughed in the background

“if you were on a boat and you were in the middle of the ocean who would you save- me or your father?” donna said trying to one up jason

“she just fucking threw it right in your face.” travis said

“that’s easy i would save you in a heartbeat! there’s no question on that! who would you save trav?” jason said wanting to hear travis’s side now

“you know what? dangnamit…”

“if you don’t act quick enough you’re gonna lose both of them you don’t have a choice!” jason said as serious as ever causing travis to laugh again

“all right mom answer the question, who you saving?” jason said

“life or death….” donna said as she sighed drastically

“if you choose me just know that both wyatt and elliotte will grow up without a father!” jason said trying to persuade his mother even more which just lead her to chuckle

“i’ve gotta start breeding…” trav said after not speaking for a bit

“please do not.” jason said

“more grand babies? that sounds like a great idea!” donna said ecstatic that she might get more babies

“imma find a breeder and i’m gonna get kids so that mom can love me again..” travis said causing jason to laugh

conveniently you had just gotten home and walked into the room immediately being seen on camera by jason and donna.

“speaking of breeders!! mrs y/n kelce has just entered the room.” jason said introducing you to all the people who were listening

“hi jay! hi momma how are ya?” you said as you sat on one of travis’s legs and leaned into his headphones so you could hear what everyone was saying

“hi hun! i’m doing well! you look stunning as usual..” donna said she had always been so sweet to you and you absolutely loved her

“aw thank you! what we’re you guys chattin’ about?” you said now turning around to look at trav but before he could speak jason did travis needs to breed you so mom can pick him over me..” jason said causing you and travis’s eyes to both go wide

“jason! that would not make me pick him i love you both equally!!” donna said trying to defend herself

“we’ll on that note! me and my wife are logging off goodnight everyone!” travis said as he heard jason laughing in his ear as he shut his laptop. he could hear him say something along the lines of “looks like their about to go breed your gran babies mom..”

after a few minutes of silence you turned around in travis’s lap to face him. “so…you want to breed me?” you said looking up at him

“baby it was just a joke i swear! unless you’re up for it…” he said when he noticed the smirk on your face and how your hips were rubbing over his growing boner “oh i’m down…”

“mm now that i think about it you’d look so fucking sexy with your belly all swollen with my baby inside.” trav said as he found your hips and placed you flat on his boner causing you to gasp “fuck just go ahead and breed me then…” you said rolling your eyes back as you felt his dick poking your clit through your shorts “shit you don’t have to tell me twice!!” he said as he stood up and threw you over his shoulder and ran to your shared bedroom. it was gonna be a long night of breeding.

“mm now that i think about it you’d look so fucking sexy with your belly all swollen with my baby inside.” trav said as he found your hips and placed you flat on his boner causing you to gasp “fuck just go ahead and breed me then…” you said rolling your eyes back as you felt his dick poking your clit through your shorts “shit you don’t have to tell me twice!!” he said as he stood up and threw you over his shoulder and ran to your shared bedroom. it was gonna be a long night of breeding.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the twinkle lights

lilac, chapter fifteen

a/n: yes that is lorelai gilmore in that moodboard and yes that scene those are screenshots from is partly the inspo for this chapter.

summary: “Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now. The last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, alcohol consumption (not by reader though), fluffy phone call

word count: 2049

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As yet another heavy sigh flowed from your lips, you tried to force your tense shoulders to relax as you felt the steam, from the coffee cup centimetres away from your mouth, kiss your weary features. 

Hidden away in the corner of the inn’s kitchen, you sat slumped on a small stool, the one usually tended for reaching the stuff in the upper cabinets. But just as you took your next sip, keeping it small so as to draw out the eventual emptiness and the fate that came with it, the doors swung open and in burst the rotund visage of Donna, all done up from the bottom of her clacking heals to the peals hanging low from around her neck.  

“What’s up, sluts!” her booming voice caused your father to jump and the piping bag in his grasp to nearly slip, though the entrance didn’t affect the sheriff who leaned against the far counter. His gaze stayed directed out the window where rows of foldout chairs were half set up. The remaining bubbles in Donna’s slender, lipstick-stained glass sloshed around as her eyes beheld the towering cake standing on the central worktable. And like a child, the inebriated woman couldn’t keep her fingers to herself as she reached out and swiped her finger through one of the swirly flowers piped around the tiers, “uh! Yum!”

But before she could bring the treat up to her lips, Harvey’s hand tapped over hers as he snapped, “no! Don’t you even dare!” raising up a finger and waving it in her face as he warned, “I have been working on this all week and I will not let you ruin it the last second!”

“Urgh, Harv, you’re so uptight, darling,” she rolled her eyes then held out her champagne flute, “here, why don’t you have a little glass of bubbly to calm your nerves?”

“Donna, just–,” you could almost make out the steam that spewed out of his ears, “get out of my kitchen! The rest of the night you’re not allowed in here or else–… or else…” he rapidly lost all of his gumption as he struggled and improvised a threat, “I’ll–… I’ll have Otto arrest you!”

Clearly not paying attention at all, Otto finally turned to face the rest as he overheard his name, “huh?” he raised his cosmopolitan up to his lips and took a small sip, “did you just say something about me?”

“Hah,” Donna laughed condescendingly, “sure he is, honey,” muttering as she sashayed around the kitchen table, “that’s funny… Otto, arrest me, his best friend of nearly 40 years, that’s–, oh!” her murmuring came to a screeching halt as she rounded the cake and your obscured figure came into her field of vision, “Y/n! There you are, you naughty, naughty girl! I heard a scrumptious little rumour that you were swapping saliva with a certain lumberjack in the Lilac Inn’s very own lobby just a few days ago… so, tell me, is he as great as I’d imagine?”

Exhaling lowly, you didn’t have the energy to humour her, “I thought you said you’d help with the decorations.” 

“Oh, I persuaded a few of the groomsmen to finish up the final touches for me.”

“You–, okay, alright, sure…” you begrudgingly took the last drink of your coffee and set it down on the table, “I give up.”

Turning to the small-town sheriff and causing her party dress to swoosh in the process, Donna smirked, “hey, did you see the groom’s uncle? The bald one? I heard he’s recently divorced… you wanna go hunt him down?”

With the hand not clutching his pink drink, Otto linked arms with Donna and said, “sure, why not,” before the eccentric duo disappeared out the side door that led into the garden.

With now only yourself and your father remaining in the kitchen, you puffed out a long exhale before pulling yourself up to your feet, the soles aching slightly from how much you’d been running around. 

“You alright, pumpkin?” Harvey lifted his gaze from his crouched position next to the tall dessert, bending over so close that his moustache nearly touched it as he kept a close eye on the whimsical patterns he slowly decorated on the white wedding cake. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you sighed, patting his shoulder gently as you passed, “just wish I had time for a longer break… wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” he called after you before you pushed the doors to the dining room open. 

The wall of noise hit you at once as you exited the kitchen, like running straight into a brick building. It was like a storm of music and loud conversations all throughout the packed inn. Willing your fists to unclench, you tried to prolong the purposely deep breaths you’d focused on just minutes before. 

Casting your glance out the tall windows, you spotted a few men, half in their suits, the jackets thrown off and the cuffs rolled up, stringing up twinkle lights from one tree to another. Swiftly, your gaze travelled further down and zeroed in on the set tables before you, across the neatly folded napkins and the various names on the place cards, one of the centrepieces especially caught your tense eye. Because of the immense stress you were already enduring, the slight askew nature of the vase, of both white and pastel purple lilacs you’d cut just this morning, made you feel as if drawing in a proper breath was the most difficult thing in the world.

Rushing to adjust it, even if it was just an inch, it still managed to bring a minuscule bubble of peace to your mind, sadly one that swiftly burst when two kids stormed through the room, one of them waving a sear piece of white cloth of his head. Promptly discerning what precisely it was they were playing with, you caught them right before they managed to rush back out of there. 

“Wow!” you held them by the shoulders and kneeled down to be at their level, “hey, you two,” you tried your hardest to lighten your tone, “you mind giving that veil to me?” 

“No, it’s mine!” the small boy clutched it to his chest. 

“Okay, uhm,” you sighed, trying not to lose your patience in front of these children, come off as some scary fairy-tale witch and make them cry, “how about you give me this so that I can return it to Emma and then I tell you where the secret, magic swing is?” 

“A magic swing?” the slightly taller girl’s eyes grew wide, “where?”

“It’s gonna cost you if you wanna know,” you held out your hand.

“Hmm,” the young boy squinted his eyes a moment before he cracked, “fine,” and gave you the veil, “where is it?”

“Behind the gazebo and in the direction of the pond,” you straightened back up and folded the accessories gently, “right there’s a huge tree with a swing on it.”

As they scurried off as fast as their little feet could take them, you turned and marched out into the lobby with your eye set on the grand staircase, but before your hand even reached the bannister, a frazzled man stopped you. 

“Hey, miss?” however just as he called for you, the sound of your ringtone buzzed in your pocket, “miss?” 

Fishing out your phone and not looking at the ID, you picked it up and briefly spoke into it, “hold on,” before twisting it away from your lips and turning to the mousy-looking man, “yes?”

Holding up a crisp white shirt, he pointed to one of the cuffs, “one of my buttons fell off and I–“

“Okay, hang on one second, I’ll find you a sewing kit. I just need to return this to the bride first,” you held up the veil.

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded and backed off into the sitting room to the side.

Beginning your ascend of the stairs, you turned your haphazard attention back to the phone, “hello?”

“Y/n?” Frank’s deep timbre flowed from the phone and seeped into your very core, “is this a bad time?”

Passing a few rowdy bridesmaids on the steps, they nearly bumped into you and caused you not to comprehend a single one of the words Frank had just said, “what?”

“I asked if this is a bad time,” he repeated as you reached the top of the steps, but as you did, the shrill wail of a baby, cradled in its mother’s arms, pierced your very soul. 

“I–, uhm, what?” you whipped your head around and spotted the hall closet off to the side, “I’m sorry, just one second,” and rushed to duck into it. The thin wall didn’t manage to drown out all of the noise, but it did get quiet enough for you to finally hear yourself think again. Switching on the dull lightbulb, “fuck…” you let yourself slide down the length of the door till you sat on the floor, “there,” you exhaled slowly, “hi, now I can hear you. What’s up?”

“Are you alright over there?”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just a bit chaotic right now,” resting the veil in your lap, you stretched out your legs, “the last of the guests just arrived and I haven’t even had time to go up and change yet. I’m still in fucking jeans.” 

“Sweetheart, it’s you,” his smile shined clear through in his low voice, “you could easily pull off wearing jeans to a wedding if you’d like.”

Feeling the corners of your lips gently tug upwards at his words, you breathed out, “so, did you just call to talk about the fact that I’m still in jeans and not the jaw-dropping green dress I got, or was there something else you wanted?”

“I just called to check in, see how you were holding up, but also to make sure you’re still up for tonight.”

Letting your spine rest back against the door, you shared, “honestly, the thought of going over to yours as soon as this is all over and they don’t need me anymore is the only thing getting me through the day without having a fucking meltdown…”

Letting a low sigh flow from his lips, you heard him ask, “you sure you don’t need me to get over there?”

“You’re sweet, but no, it’s alright,” you smiled, your fingers gently fiddling with the veil, “actually, it’s probably good that you’re not here. With the way Donna’s already enjoying herself with the champagne, you might end up as her next husband before the couple says I do.”

“Oh,” he swiftly mirrored the laugh that bubbled out of you, “well in that case.”

After the chuckling had died back down, you tried your best to sink into the quiet completely and enjoy the fleeting pause his phone call had granted you. 

After the moment of comfortable silence had come to a close, Frank’s voice flowed from the phone once more, “So, tell me,” the playful nature in his tone was still blatantly clear for you to pick up on, “just how jaw-dropping is that dress of yours?”

“Well,” you bit down on our grin, “I won’t be able to wear a bra with the kind of neckline that it has… and with the way that it falls on me, I might not be able to wear underwear as well,” that wasn’t true in the slightest, but he didn’t have to know if you’d slipped them off before you even put the dress on or mere moments before stepping out of the car to see him. The thought of him imagining you without them the entire night was far too enthralling not to entertain, “would be such a shame if the dress got ruined by distracting lines, wouldn’t it?”

As you heard him puff out a gravelly breath, “fuck me…sweetheart, you’re killing me here…” you simply giggled in return, “uhm, when was it again that you’ll be done?”

“Not completely sure, some time after dinner properly. I’ll send you a text when I head out.”

 “Alright.”

“You want me to try and steal some cake with me? We might need a snack a little later…”

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled, “you planning on working up an appetite, are you?”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[asurix]

'' Valentine's day''

Genre: NFSW/SMUT, Dazai x reader, dom!dazai, sub!reader,afab!

content warning: Oral sex,vag!nal sex, sadistic,whimpering,praising,degrading and swearing ( i think thats all lol)

Ok so... i made a new poll and dazai won....again- i mean hes hot but twice is foul i thought chuuya was going to win or fyodor... OR Tachihara??? but i guess my charming suicidal guy won...

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 DAZAI

Dazai was you're boyfriend, he wasn't all tho like typical boyfriends... he was way more different... A normal boyfriend would cuddle you and care for you, but Dazai? all he could do was fuck you're pussy until you're cunt remembered EVERY vein from dazai's cock, you weren't complaining, but come on? the least thing he could do was show a bit of romantical feelings... right?

You and Dazai were at home, you wanted to test out Dazai's feelings for you, lucky for you it was valentine's day, you approached Dazai looking a bit suspicous in his eyes, ''something wrong?'' he asked raising a eyebrow, his attention leaving his phone but instead to you,

'' do you know what day it is? Dazai?'' you asked curiously, ''14 februari, why?'' he answered you're question, you couldn't belivie this guy he really forgot valentine's day? what a jerk! you groaned walking away from him irritated, ''whats wrong bella? why so mad!'' he yelled from across the living room, the voice echoing to the kitchen, making you more irritated, ''just dont talk to me'' you rolled you're eyes, ''why not?'' you heard him exactly behinde you, wasn't he just in the living room what the hell?, you got startled by his sudden presence, ''n-nothing you just forgot a special day'' you're expression turning from irritated to sadness,

Dazai tilting his head, confused still not understanding what you were trying to say, ''huh?'' he said confused, ''are you serious its fucking valentine's day and you couldn't bother to remember a simpe day to appreciate you're lover?, n-no not even lover!? just you're booty call!'' you yelled at him, ''valentine's day? already-'' just by hearing that you got so ticked off you stormed out of the room angrily, you sat down on the bed, grabbing the pillow from you're side, then shoving it in you're face, groaning in it, such a pain! you thought to yourself, 6 hours has gone and you hadn't even realised you went to sleep, not until you checked the time to see its 8 pm, god i slept for 6 straight hours? you thought to yourself, before you could get out of bed you heard keys opening the front door,

he went out? you thought again to yourself, you walked over to the front door to greet Dazai completely forgetting what happened 6 hours ago, ''where did you go?'' you said curious, ''i went out to get you're valentines present's'' he said smiling before taking off his shoes and coat giving you a kiss on the forehead before setting the stuff he bought on the kitchen counter,

''valentines gift's?'' you asked confused, thats before you remembered everything that happened ''o-oh yeah...about that im not really mad anymore s-so you're fine i guess...'' you said scratching the back of you're head, ''well i wanted to get my girlfriend some stuff for valentines day because my bella donna deserve's the world'' he said smiling warmly, ''well im glad im you dont see me as you're booty call Dazai'' you said smiling back ''i never saw you as my booty call Y/N'' he said, his face turning serious, ''ive always seen you as my lover, my only one, my stress relivier and my everything'' he said turning his back to you, unpacking all the stuff he bought for you, ''i got you this lingerine donna, it would look really nice on you while you ride me'' he said grinning, you couldn't help but laugh, ''you're such a idiot

Dazai'' you said laughing, ''im serious, yesterday you didn't leave the house, and today you didn't leave the house either so am assuming...no i know you didn't get me anything for valentine's day'' he said his grin widening, ''but its okay, you can cover up a apology with just you bouncing on me today for valentine's day, thats all i want'' he said smiling, 'well you're not wrong i didn't get you anything for valentine's day, so i dont have a choice to ride you'' you said ironiclly,

-after you opened all the gifts with Dazai-

''There bella i got you all these stuff, now all i want as my gift is you're body'' he said grinning, before you could say anything, he picked you up bridal style taking you to the bedroom, he threw you on the bed, you sat up, Dazai standing infront of you while you're sitting on the bed, ''my, what do you have in plan?'' you asked him, ''i have a lot for you, say this is you're punishment for not getting me anything for valentine's day, i get to be rough how ever i want got it?'' he titled his head waiting for you're respons

'' do whatever you please, love'' you said smiling, he unbuckled his pants, his hard cock flinging out of his boxers, he lined up his cock to the entrance of you're mouth, ''open wide, donna~'' he said smiling wickedly, he pushed his tip inside you're mouth, making you gag a little bit, you started licking his tip, massaging his balls, Dazai couldn't help but moan, ''f-fuck... i might c-cum if you continue like this, and i dont want be done bella~ he said chuckling, he grabbed you're waist then threw you on the bed, he postioned his cock to the entrance of you're soaked cunt, he slammed inside you causing you to whimper, ''d-dazai...'' you choked out, ''n-not to deep please'' you whined out, ''i said i was going to be rough bella, just take it like that bitch you are, alright?'' he said before slamming inside you again hitting you're sweet spot mutliple times.''i know you like it there bella'' he laughed, ''s-shut up..'' you cried out, Dazai contiuned violating you're cunt hitting you're G-spot again and again this assault continued for minutes until Dazai finally couldn't handle you're pussy clenching around his cock, making his cock twitch inside you, he finally gave in and came. ''f-fuck...bella youre clenching my cock so h-hard...'' Dazai groaned, you couldn't respond due to the overstimulations getting the best of you, you pasted out without you, yourself knowing it, you woke up to hot tea on you're nightstand, and heart shaped chocolate and a bouqette of flowers with a note on it, ''ill be back donna for our dinner, just going to pick some groceries love you x- samu'' this idiot, you chuckled to yourself, you drank you're hot tea and ate you valentine's chocolate, before going back to sleep, waiting to see what Dazai has planned out for you.

[misseviehyde]

PIERCE ME

"You are not getting your belly pierced young lady, whatever you may say - this is the end of the story!"  

Hannah pouted as her Mother screamed at her for the third time that day.  She had been nagging her Mom for hours now, but all it had succeeded in doing was to antagonize Linda and make it even less likely Hannah would get what she wanted.  

"That's so unfair. Donna's Mom let her get one. All my friends are getting them!"  

"Donna's Mom may not mind her daughter looking like a little slut - but I do.  You will have to wait till you are old enough to get one with your own consent. I want nothing to do with this," scowled Linda with her hands on her hips.

Stomping her foot, Hannah tossed back her head with a scream of rage and stormed out of the living room. On the way, she nearly bumped into a smirking figure by the door who was enjoying the show.

Hannah scowled as her little brother Eddie laughed at her. He loved watching her get into trouble and was such a goody two shoes. Pathetic little boys like him needed to stay out of her way.

She went to push him out of the way, but he ducked out of the way and stuck his tongue out at her.

What a little shitbag...

She'd show him to mess with her... him and her Mom!

***

Hannah decided she would get a piercing anyway. Once she had her belly pierced it would be too late for anyone to do anything about it and she didn't care if she got grounded so long as she got what she wanted.

She put on makeup and clothes to make herself look older and stormed down to the mall - but as she was too young to provide an I.D - no one was fooled enough to help her.

Sobbing outside a tattoo parlour, her mascara running, Hannah grit her teeth hard. Life was so UNFAIR. Why couldn't she just do what she wanted?

Suddenly she heard a laugh. A cool looking woman with pink hair and tattoos and piercings was leaning against the side of the shop eyeing her up.

"You gonna give up that easily bitch? I've been watching you all morning trying to get a piercing and failing. I was starting to admire your determination but now I see you're just pathetic."

Hannah stormed to her feet. "Fuck you! I'll get a piercing even if I have to do it to myself!"

The woman's eyes flashed with amusement and partial admiration. "Yes! That's more like it girl. Take what you want. Don't let anyone stand in your way. Bully and manipulate others to always get what you want. Sluts ALWAYS win."

Hannah gawped at her.

"I can see some real potential in you, so I'm gonna help you get EVERYTHING you ever wanted. I can give you an slutty magic piercing. Use it when you get home and it will turn you into a sexy eighteen year old bitch.  No one will even remember the old you - it will be like you have always been a hot popular slut. Your Mom will never be able to stop you again. You'll finally be the assertive, bullying, spoiled slut you dream of being and you will be able to get as many tattoos and piercings as you like. No one will ever stop you again."  

The woman produced a piercing from between her fingers and tossed it to the surprised Hannah. "Just put this into your belly button and let it bond with you. All your dreams will finally come true. Trust me."

Hannah slipped the piercing into her jeans pocket and with a muttered 'thank you' stumbled away whilst the woman watched with a smirk. Hannah truly believed what she had been given was really magic. There was just something so convincing about the woman.

The pink haired woman watched Hannah run excitedly away then turned and walked back into her tattoo parlour. "Evie's Place."

What happened next really wasn't her problem, she just hoped the girl enjoyed the gift she'd been given...

***

Hannah couldn't believe her luck. She wanted to believe in the magic so badly and be a hot older girl. The urge to put the ring in straight away was almost irresistible, but she wanted somewhere private to transform where she could enjoy her transformation. "Soon I'll be a slutty popular bitch and then NO ONE will stop me."

Hannah ran excitedly home, her heart pounding. She couldn't wait to try the magic piercing and get older and hotter.

Once she was a slutty eighteen year old she could fuck boys, drink alcohol and smoke. She would have a body that would make others jealous and would do whatever she wanted. She couldn't wait to be a slutty, spoiled bully and torment her Mom and stupid brother.

She could already imagine wearing the hottest skimpiest clothes, swearing and belittling people... getting tattoo's and maybe even her nipples pierced. It was going to be so fucking hot!

Bursting through the door to the house, Hannah grabbed the piercing and leapt up the stairs. A few more seconds and her dreams would come true.  She quickly ran up to her room, but in her haste failed to notice her brother Eddie was once again in the way.

This time he was too slow to avoid her and they collided, Hannah bouncing backwards and Eddie hitting the wall with an 'oof'. The impact caused her to fall onto her backside and the piercing leapt out of her hand and spinning in the air bounced onto the carpet in front of Eddie. Recovering quickly, he pushed himself off from the wall and he picked up the piercing triumphantly.

"Haha, Mom said you couldn't have one of these. I'm telling. You're gonna be in SO much trouble." Eddie was gloating, he loved having something to hold over his stupid sister.

Seeing the piercing glittering in her brothers fingers, Hannah suddenly felt the icy grip of fear. She had to get the piercing back at once from him, but she needed to play it down. If he thought for one moment it was really important, she'd never get it back. Taking it by force could be an option, but was risky. No... the subtle approach was best.

"It's a fake one you douche. Mom says I couldn't have a real piercing so I bought a fake one that stays in your belly without a pin. It's actually a worthless, cheap piece of shit. You're wasting your time, she isn't gonna care about it." Hannah tried to keep her voice calm.

"No! I don't believe you. I'll prove to Mommy you disobeyed her. Look - it doesn't stay in," sneered Eddie, sliding the piercing into his belly button to prove his sister wrong. 

"Noooooo" screamed Hannah - but it was too late as the piercing bit into Eddie's belly button and eagerly took root. He instantly transformed - a rippling wave of energy spreading out from the piercing and turning Eddie from a good boy into a nasty little slut and altering reality to create Hannah's bitchy older sister Ella.  

Bones cracked and skin tightened - his flesh tanning slightly as Eddie moaned and stretched pleasurably. It felt good to become a girl and he offered no resistance as big tits pushed out of chest, causing his top to balloon out and his little boy dick sucked away to become a tight eighteen year old pussy.  

Lying on the floor, Hannah stared up in horror at her transforming brother as his ass pushed out and he grew taller and sexier than she could ever hope to be.

Slutty white expensive nails sprang from each finger tip and every inch of hair on his body melted away to leave smooth tannedfemale flesh.

The girl above her was moaning and giggling in pleasure as her voice became rich and bratty.

"Oooooh what's happening... mmmmhhh it feels so good," she moaned as her short hair lengthened and grew out. Thick slutty makeup coated Eddie's once innocent face and naughty pink lips curved into a surprised look as his insides churned and he became physically fully female.  

"Ohhhh shit, I can mmmmh almost feel my ahhhh new uterus in there... oooh I'm a fucking girl and I like it! I feel so feminine. I can FEEL the estrogen pumping around me. Making me girly, making me like boys. Mmmmh."

Thick black lashes fluttered in pleasure as sexy blonde hair fell down around her shoulders and naughty blue eyes twinkled with the desire for sex.

This girl needed a new outfit and Eddie's shorts became a pair of tight white hot pants as his big tits were encased in a slutty pink top. Gold hooped earring dropped from his ears as his trainers turned into bitchy pink cowboy boots - just perfect to get fucked in.

As his clothes changed - Ella's personality rose inside him to take control. A bitchy voice giggled in his head and Eddie allowed it to re-write his thoughts, mind and personality.

Sinking into Ella felt good. Being older and sluttier felt so amazing. The piercing was making HIM the naughty bitch of the family. He wanted it all.

Hey little Eddie. Time to become me... mmmh time to be a bad, bad girl. You're gonna love having my pussy and tits and being a naughty little cock-sucking slut. Let me fill your head with memories of all the boys we gave blow jobs to and all that cock we swallowed.  Mmmh you love cum now don't cha bitch?  And getting fucked by a big cock... feeling it deep in that tight pussy. Mmmh you live for that now! Yes thats it... you're becoming me... ahhhhh good boy. Now cum and become me fully...

Shuddering in pleasure, Ella creamed her panties and the once pure and innocent boy became a spoiled bitch. His bad girly side was now dominating their body. Eddie was dead.

"Oh fuck  yeah - I am sooooo totally a slut now and I fucking love it. Yessss!" 

Giggling madly, Ella grabbed her tits and squeezed. She felt amazing. Being a naughty whore was such fun and she was never going to take the piercing off.  

Hannah shook her head like she was in a dream. The events of the last few hours were fading as reality changed so that she remembered nothing of her brother.

Looking at her slutty sister, Hannah felt nothing but disgust. "Eugh - why are you always acting like such a slut?", muttered Hannah darkly as she watched Ella play with herself.

Her sisters new personality had slotted into her own life and having grown up embarrassed and disgusted by her exhibitionist sister, Hannah was now a quiet little nerd girl. She no longer remembered she ever had a brother or that she had even wanted the piercing for herself.  

Ella did remember though - it amused her to think she had woken up this morning as a little boy. Being a hot bitchy slut was loads better and she giggled joyously. "Whatever sis. I'm off to my room for some real fun. You're SUCH a fucking loser."

Hannah had just picked herself up. She now had bottle top glasses and a preppy outfit on. Laughing, Ella tore the glasses off her face and ground them under a booted heel - then she pushed her blinded sister over again.

"Ohhh but before I go, if you ever call me a slut again in front of Mom and Dad I'll do worse than this you little bitch. Don't forget it."

***

Changed into something more casual and easy to rip off - Ella excitedly examined her room. It was a boudoir fit for a princess.

Calling her latest boyfriend on her expensive mobile phone, Ella examined her new bedroom as he made his way over. It was pink now. Pink, girly and slutty - just the way she likes.

She played with her blonde hair and admired her sexy new grown up body, lusting after herself.  Fuck she was hot.

When her bad boy boyfriend Jason arrived she didn't waste anytime. "Baby - I am so horny. I want you to fuck me... hard." 

Ella moaned and squealed as Jason threw her onto the bed and ripped off her clothes. His hand closed round her throat as he pushed deep into her tight bare pussy and began to pound her - causing Ella to moan and groan in pure ecstasy.  This was how she liked it... to be used like a whore.

"Yes... fuck me you stud! Pound my body with that big cock! I want it deeper... OHHHH YES"  

Ella loved being fucked rough. She watched her piercing glitter in her navel as Jason stretched her pussy out good. His cock slid in and out of her tight clinging pussy lips and her big tits shook as he fucked her hard. She wrapped her tanned legs around his strong waist.

"Cum in me baby... I wanna feel it fill me up."

Turning her head Ella giggled as she saw her door was ajar and the tear streaked squinting face of Hannah was watching her. It was so fucking hot to rub her sisters face in it. Hmmm maybe she should make the little bitch eat Jason's cum when he creampied her?

"Cum in me. Ohhhh fuck yessssssss." She groaned as he pumped so much into her it instantly flooded out down her tanned thighs.

Being a slut felt so fucking good...

***

THREE MONTHS LATER

"What's the matter loser?" laughed Ella as she pulled up next to Hannah on the sidewalk. "No friends to walk home with? I'd give you a lift but I'm on my way to the mall."

Of course Hannah had no friends. Ella had seen to that by bullying them all.

Since becoming a slut Ella had transformed her life and other peoples. She was now a spoiled toxic girly girl and so long as she had her magic piercing, no one could stop her. But her desire to corrupt others was now growing.

"I'm on my way to Evie's Place to buy some more piercings. I was thinking it's time to get Mom and Dad a present too. You know... I think Mom might enjoy a clit piercing. Once I get it onto her, she'll become the fake plastic neighbourhood homewrecker I know she can be. For Daddy - a cock ring and a cage. I can't wait to turn him into a simp."

Lauging, Ella threw some wrappers and trash she didn't want out of her car and into her sisters face. The shutting the door she drove on.

It was time to see what else Evie's Place had to offer...

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

Warning: Mentions of suicide attempt

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

"Jesus, keep it down, would ya," you say groggily, rubbing your eye as you walk out of your room, utterly confused at the commotion unravelling in the lobby. "The fuck is going on?"

"You people are insane! I'd rather be with Deathstroke than with you assholes..." Jason says, the last statement he claims more quietly. A harsh truth, revealing how little his supposed teammates thinks of him.

"Jason drew crosses all over my mirror after telling me to go get looked at by a fucking priest!" Rachel yells in anger.

You looked over at Jason in confusion.

"Yeah, I told her to get looked at, so what?" Jason yells back. "You almost fucking killed me! And I didn't draw those crosses, I haven't got a fucking clue what you're on about, how many time do I have to say it!"

You stare at the two, still delirious from your interrupted nap. Jason would say some fucked up stuff but drawing crosses? He wouldn't go that far. Barking and yapping is the most he'd do.

"And he put a beer bottle in my room," Hank says.

"And a picture of Elis," Dawn adds.

"And an orange soda bottle," Donna finishes.

The adults list the things Jason presumably planted in their rooms. But for what motif? Just to piss them off? Wait. Jason literally fell from a building like, what? Yesterday? Why the fuck would he pull this shit then..

"Wait, wait, wait. Pause, I can not stress this enough," you say. "I understand Rachel's situation, what the fuck about you guys?" You ask the other adults.

"Jason just put some shit that was deeply connected to our past in our room. If he pulls something like this again, I'll forget what team he's on," Hank replies.

You cross your arms. "Okay, did any of yous tell Jason about this deep shit about your past?"

Rachel and Gar's head turned to the adults as they all looked at each other with doubt.

"Oh my fucking days," You scoffed, aggressively rubbing your temples.

Before you can scold at them, you notice Jason is already gone.

Jeez, maybe I am a shit teammate.

You ram into his room first and instantly run out when you see he's not there. You check the surveillance room, the training room. Not there, either. Finally, you speed up to the roof. And there he was, standing at the edge.

Your heartbeat's pace picked up.

"Jason," you called out. He looked over his shoulder, then looked right ahead of him.

"C'mon, Jason, get down from there. We can work this out," you slowly say, taking small steps towards him.

You see him shake his head. "There's nothing to work out," he says. "I'm just gonna fuck things up again. There's a poison in me. That shit spreads. Hurts even the most healthy people."

You stip at a safe distance where Jason wouldn't make any irrational movements if you'd come any closer, and you lean against the ledge near him.

"Mm, well, what about people who's already unhealthy?"

Jason turns his head to look at you in confusion.

"Jason, all of us here has been through some tough shit. From my experience, this 'poison' you're talking about, it's nothing compared to what I had to face. I'm sorry that they accused you, Jason. I don't even know why they did- they don't even have a good reason to," you explain, making sure he knew that you were not against him, that he wasn't alone.

"I don't know if this makes any difference," you continue, "but I believe that you didn't do any of that."

"You don't?" Jason asks in disbelief, yet still a hint of hope in his voice.

"Of course I don't. You're my teamma... You're my friend, Jason," you reply back, thinking it's safe to step closer to him as you reach a hand out towards him. "Please come down," you pleaded.

Jason stares at your offering hand for a while, then glances the view in front of him before returning his gaze to your hand.

He sighs, taking your hand in his and steoping diwn from the ledge, leaving a gasp of relief from you before you pull him into a tight embrace.

A few seconds later, you push him away, realising you may have crossed some boundaries.

"Sorry.. I- I'm just glad you came down," you admitted as Jason just shrugged in reply.

You sighed as you sat down, your back leaning against the ledge, patting the ground beside you, inviting Jason to sit beside you.

"Jason, you are kind of an asshole. I mean, you did tell Rachel to go get looked at by a priest- I know she almost tried to kill you, but she still needs to get a hold of her powers. I'm not saying it's not a reason to be scared of her! If I was in your place, I'd be freaked out by her, too. Just give her some time. Plus, you did call both her and Rose freaks..." Jason slightly nods at his mistake. "But... you're one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met," you admit as it seemed like Jason's head could've snapped off his neck from how fast he turned.

"Don't let it get to your ego," you say before continuing, "I mean, you can spar blindfolded! You survived being kidnapped by Dr. Light and Deathstroke. Oh... and Jason," you call out to him before you shift yourself to face him properly. "I know you're always saying you're okay after your... fall. But it's not a sign of weakness to ask for help. You don't need to prove yourself to anybody. Not to me, at least," you finish, placing a hand kn his shoulder for assurance.

All Jason does is look at you, probably searching for any sort of trap or lies or whatnot. You believe you've said too much that things got awkward and he probably wants to be alone.

"Yeah.. I've been talking for too long," you agree to his probable thoughts as you try to get up.

But Jason stops you, grabbing a hold of your arm.

"No," he says, "I... Thank you," he confesses as you take your place back on the ground. "Yeah, I guess I am an asshole," he continues, looking at the concrete underneath him. "I don't know... It's just shit I say. Sometimes, I say it without thinking. I say a lot of shit without thinking," he admits his wrongdoings.

"And that's okay," you reply, placing your hand on top of his. "We make mistakes. But we talk it out, and we forgive."

"I didn't put all that shit there or draw the crosses, I swear-"

"Jason, you don't need to try convince me. I told you, I believe you," you reassure him.

"Didn't really believe that you believed me," he shrugged. "The others still probably think I'm insane."

"If they do, I'll just punch some sense into them," you tell him. "Besides, they can't think you're any crazier than me."

Jason's eyebrows scrunched together. "What do you mean?"

"Oh shit," you laughed. "You never knew about how I became a Titan, and how I even met the others,."

Jason shakes his head.

"Well, I was running away from my mom. Criminal, but not one of those well-known ones. Robbed a few jewels here and there, had some of her workers try and catch me. Then, when I lost them, the only place I could think of staying was an alleyway. Luckily, it was on the safe side of town. That's when Dick found me. Brought me back to the tower-"

"He really has a thing for bringing unconscious people back to the tower, huh?" Jason interrupts, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"That sounds horrible without context," you say, then continue, "but yeah. When I woke up, I was absolutely shitting myself. I was my bag, but when I got to the elevator, the passcode wouldn't unlock. That's when everyone came. Hank, Dawn, Donna, Dick, Gar, and Rachel. I was so freaked out. So I threw my homemade bombs at them-"

"I'm sorry, bombs??"

"Calm down. They were just glitter bombs," you say as Jason makes a face in both confusion and amusement.

"Bht my mom taught me a few tricks. Pinned Gar to the wall with a couple of knives. Dawn was stuck to the floor with some knives, too. I think Hank was blinded by some glitter. But yeah, eventually, they got me to calm down," you finish, laughing at the memory.

"Jesus... I still can't get over the glitter bombs. I thought you just made flash and concussion bombs," Jason says.

You shook your head. "Nah, I only learned how to make those later. The glitter bombs were just a hobby. So, I guess you yourself aren't as insane as you think you are. I mean, even when I used to go to school, kids would think that I'm crazy, but I probably am, like, glitter bombs as a hobby? I-"

"You're not crazy, Y/n! If anyone thinks so, they're the crazy ones-"

You laugh. "Thanks, Jason. I like being friends with you too."

Jason's reaction is hesitant, but he smiles and laughs with you.

"C'mon, let's go back down. You need a rest. A long rest. We can even listen to that loud metal music you listen to," you say as you get up, dusting yourself off.

suggestions for part 2?

Jason copies you, getting up and wiping any dirt off from his pants, and a genuine smile on his face as he follows you down back to his room.

[holylulusworld]

Girls just want to have fun

Summary: Girls just want to have fun

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: partying, drinking, dancing, ladies’ night

A/N: For my story everyone is alive.

Inspired by Cindy Lauper's song "Girls just want to have fun"

It’s a damn good night. You feel good, and maybe you’re a little tipsy.

After months of being cramped in sleazy motel rooms with the Winchesters and fighting battle after battle, you finally got the chance to have a night out. It’s ladies’ night with karaoke and free drinks at the bar in town.

“Yes! Show them what you got!” you cheer your friends on, raising your glass. Jo, Charlie, and Bela are on the stag singing we will rock you. You’re not much of a singer, but you like to watch your friends having fun.

“They had too much wine,” Donna laughs because Charlie wants to try out stage diving. “There are like three people. They cannot catch her fall.”

“Nah, she’s like a cat and lands on her paws!” You exclaim loudly. “Believe me, she got this. A girl who fuck’s Dick Roman and Leviathans over can rock a stage dive too.”

“She will get hurt,” Jody worriedly watches Charlie stagger on the stage. “I can’t even look.”

“Wait! I got an idea,” you get your phone out to call Sam and Dean. “Guys, we have an emergency. You need to come to the bar. We need your help.”

You end the call before Dean can ask what happened, or if he needs to bring the big guns. While you order another drink and tell Charlie to wait for her stage dive a little longer, Sam and Dean run toward the garage at the bunker.

“What the…?” Dean watches Jo, Charlie, and Bela sing another song. Charlie waves at Dean while Bela blows a kiss at Sam. “Sammy, what has gotten into them? Do you think it’s a wrath? A ghost maybe?”

“Uh-Dean. I don’t think this is the supernatural kind of emergency,” Sam smirks at Bela who undresses him with her eyes. “I think they are having fun, is all.”

“What? Fun!” Alerted Dean storms toward you to snatch the drink you just ordered out of your hands. “Y/N, I hope you’ve got a damn good explanation why you called me. This doesn't look like an emergency.”

“It is!” you grab his arm to guide Dean toward the stage. “You see.” You point at Charlie on the stage. She giggles and walks toward the edge. “Charlie wants to try her first stage dive. We need strong men to catch her.”

“Stage dive – what?” Dean blinks a few times. “You’ve got to be shitting me! No more drinks for you.”

“Aw, but Deano,” you pat his chest with both hands. “Girls just want to have fun sometimes.” You lean closer to nuzzle his chin with your nose. “Please for me. Catch Charlie.”

Dean purses his lips. “This is far too dangerous! She could get hurt!”

“You sound like a dad,” you grin. “Deano, come on. Live a little.”

“What’s going on?” Sam finally joins your little conversation. “Where is the emergency, Y/N?”

“Charlie wants to stage dive. Y/N came up with the brilliant idea that we can catch Charlie,” Dean huffs. “She called us for a stage dive, Sammy.”

“Hmmm…” Sam looks at the stage, at the ground, and then at his hands. “If we team up, we can do it, Dean.”

Dean turns his head like in slow motion, to gape at his brother. “Did you hit your head, Sammy? What if she misses us and ends up on the ground? Charlie could get seriously hurt.”

“Deano, please,” you fist his Henley, tugging hard. In a hurry, he didn’t put on a plaid or a jacket. “I’ll make you pie tomorrow.”

“You’re going to be hangover tomorrow,” he points out. “If she gets hurt, you’ll take the blame.”

Dean walks toward the stage to talk to Charlie. He’s still not convinced this will work, but he’ll do it for Charlie and you.

“We can help,” Sam says. He walks toward the stage, followed by Castiel, Jack, and Gabriel who popped up Out of nowhere.

“Don’t tell me she called you too…” Dean sighs deeply. “Fine, let’s do this…”

And then, you all joined Dean to give Charlie the chance to have her first stage dive.

Sometimes girls just want to have fun.

Tags in reblog.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

i just know that one of Dick's favorite movies is The Devil Wears Prada.

so here's me presenting a few lines from the movie that Dick definitely uses in his daily life.

---

Dick, with a stuffy nose: B, what time does the gala start tomorrow?

Bruce, frowns: It will begin at 7 in the evening. But hey, Chum, you feeling alright? It seems as if you have a cold.

Dick, pinches the bridge of his nose: No, no. It's nothing. I'll be okay.

Bruce: You sure? I mean, Tim and Duke will be there. You don't need to-

Dick: I'm not sick, B. I'm not sick. I refuse to be sick, I'm wearing Valentino for crying out loud.

Bruce, blinks: Um. Yes, yes you are, Chum.

---

Dick: Little Wing, what are you wearing??? I told you to wear the grey and black top with the black boots. I put that together for you! Why are you wearing that jacket instead?

Jason, rolls his eyes: To be honest, Dickface, I don't really care about what I'm wearing.

Dick: You should cus fashion deserves to be cared for!

Jason: I don't give two fucks about that stuff.

Dick: Stuff? Oh. Okay. I see. You think this has nothing to do with you. You go to your closet and you select… I don’t know… that lumpy black jacket for instance because you’re trying to tell the world that you take yourself too seriously to care about what you put on your back...

Jason, rolls his eyes: You're really quoting to me? To me?

Dick, groans: We get it, Jay, you're the literate one. I can read too, ya know.

Jason: You mean repeat that movie over and over?

Dick, blushes: Hey, you watch it with me!

---

as Nightwing ties up the goon, he stares at the shirt he's wearing.

Goon, spits blood on the floor: What are you staring at, Wing?

Nightwing, clicks his tongue: You have no style or sense of fashion.

Goon, blinks: What does that have to do with--

Nightwing, shakes his head: No, no, that wasn't a question.

---

Batman, shoving the goon on the wall, growls: Talk!

Red Hood, his hand on his holster: You better start opening your mouth or I'll blow it up.

Goon, shivers from fear: Fine, fine... It wasn't me. I was paid an amount.. I needed--needed the money.

Red Robin: Then what was the kid doing in your apartment???

Black Bat looks like she's ready to knock the goon out any minute.

Goon: It wasn't me, I swear. Please, believe me. I'm innocent. It was-

Nightwing, raises his hand: Details of your incompetence do not interest me.

the rest of the Bats look at Nightwing. white lenses of their masks or cowls would definitely scare anyone. especially when they're staring at you like that in the darkness.

Nightwing, smiles: What?

---

Dick, finishes the information of their plan: Okay, that's it. Does anyone have any questions?

the rest of the Titans members either shake their head no except Wally, who is smiling up at Dick like he's the sun.

Dick: Oh, to add, don't forget to have the serum on your suits as the toxins in that planet may be deadly. Okay?

the Titans nod at him.

Dick, smiles at his team: That's all.

Donna, giggles: So how many times have you seen The Devil Wears Prada this week, Boy Wonder?

Wally, shakes his head fondly: I think it's too many to count.

Dick, laughs: No one shall judge me.