#its not banging its not pussy popping

[inhidingxoxo3637]

Why have we got Nightcore anthems today ??

[rafeysdoll]

request request request!!🎀

rafe x reader fucking in the bathroom at a random party after she said he’s not paying attention to her!!🤭

you had entered the party with bloated confidence. having blasted your favorite it girl songs in rafe’s truck, wearing a matching pink set. a frilly skirt that gave a tease of your ass pairing nicely with a cropped top that showed perky tits, your strawberry perfume scented skin barely covered.

but within an hour or so, you’d return back to him from your little girlfriends with practically half a brain. tipsy and needy.

“daddy..” you pout, bottom lip dramatically popped out more than usual. “miss you,” you tell in a gentle voice, the fruity drink in your manicured hand halfway finished.

“yea.. uh. give me a moment, yeah doll?” he states, counting some money before turning back to a man you barely realized was besides him. “yeah this will cut it, here you go man.” he says before giving a small baggie.

the unknown man walks away with a smile, rafe pocketing the money as he turned his focus to you. “thought i told you i needed to sell big tonight, hm? don’t you want your allowance money or are you okay with not going on a shopping spree this week?”

you whimper, quickly hiding your flushed face in his chest— trying to be careful not to smear any makeup on his shirt for his and your sake. “i.. is it really that bad of a crime to miss my boyfriend?” you mewl, glossy lips still turned into a frown.

“jus’ want a little attention.. that’s all. you won’t even notice i’m here, promise.” you sweetly continue.

as it turns out, your honesty can be as flexible as the rest of your body.

“ohhh fuckkk!” you cry, rafe practically rearranging your guts as he fucks you against the bathroom door, sliding in and out of your puffy pussy with perfect ease. “mmph! soooo good daddy, so good.” you moan, pulling on his hair, jaw slack as endless high pitched moans flow out of your swollen lips.

“mm, this what you wanted? you happy now, you big baby?” his strained voice taunts. every snap of his hips against yours emits loud, proud moans from you. not caring for those who might pass by. “i.. i am happy,” you moan, still unashamed. “thank you.. thank you daddy.” you whimper, fat cock bullying your pretty insides. tits jumping at each rut.

some part of you worried that one perfect bang of his shaft in your hole would have you wake up in your bed— all having been a dream.

“there’s your manners, such a good girl.” he praises, taking in your lips for a sloppy kiss before continuing. “always.. always take it so well, baby.” a smirk reaching his face as he lowers his massive hand down your body, quickly finding your clit to rub— your face twisting in what could only be a mixture of ache and pleasure.

“gotta come with me, alright doll? know you can do it for me. you’re perfect.” his sweet words making your walls slicker. “y-yes.. yes daddy.” you agree, desperate and pathetic. submissive little dummy.

your brain had practically already finished its transition to mush, nothing floating in there but rafe and his dick.

it was only a matter of time before you both came, your cunt squeezing around him with all it’s got, spilling around his base as you felt his warm cum spill inside you. he was careful to pull out of your folds, small whimper at the loss of fullness. gently putting you down. “i love you.” you mewl, emotions raw. your brain still coming back to you as hot cum oozes out.

he moves to wipe a bit, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i love you. did real good for me.”

[munivrse]

Takeout (on me)

tall sexy dancer gf! bada lee

cw: pussy whipped bada lee taking you in several different positions. cannot get enough of the noises you make and how good she makes you feel. good god.

a/n: i am so sorry for the filth that follows. free claim for a place in heaven!

your back arched as bada's hands ran down your sides, stopping to squeeze at your waist.

"please bada."

both her hands continue their journey down your body, spreading your legs to make room for her. she stands above you at the edge of the bed, hands massaging at your thighs, just shy of where you really want them.

"you look so pretty like this baby."

she wraps your legs around her waist and leans down to you, one hand by your head, the other rubbing up and down your thigh. she presses her lips against yours. it starts out so sweet. her lips ghosting against yours, kissing you and pulling back when you move in for more. but something switches in her when you moan into her mouth. the hand on your thigh moves up to squeeze your waist, the hand by your head grasps your hair and pulls. she bites your bottom lip, waiting for you to open your mouth. she licks her tongue against yours, groaning as she grinds against you.

"so fucking good for me." bada presses kisses in between each word. her brows furrow as she grinds harder against you, deepening the kiss by gripping your hair. you gasp, hands grabbing onto her shoulders,

"feels so good baby." your hips grind up into hers.

bada stops kissing you in favor of watching you move. you're so fucking hot. she loves the way your eyes flutter each time you meet her in the middle. your nails feel so good through the fabric of her flannel. she wants to take more from you. make you moan louder.

"fuck. fuck baby, stop." she draws out, hand letting go of your hair. she sits back up, taking a look at how flustered you looked. she's sure she looked nearly the same,

"tell me what you want, baby." bada's free hand, that was previously gripping your hair, dances down your stomach and cups your cunt. she lets you grind against her hand for a bit, enjoying the small gasps you were letting out.

"c'mon baby. tell bada what you need."

you open your eyes and bada's are peering down at you. the breath leaves your lungs as her fingers dance around your clit.

"want you to fill me up- please."

bada's eyes close. she needed to make you feel good. needed to see you fall apart against her.

"so polite," she bends down to leave a short kiss on your lips, "whatever you want, angel."

bada grabs her strap and watches as your eyes sparkle. she chuckles a bit. she's made a habit of wearing a harness underneath her pants as you've just been so needy lately. your hands reach out to help her, but she swats at you. she makes you watch as she puts it on. your head spins as you take in her appearance. she's got a loose flannel on, grey cargos unzipped just enough to account for the cock strapped to her, and a messy bun to complete her look. her bangs are starting to stick to her forehead and she's nearly panting.

she makes her way between your legs.

bada leans down and kisses you again. its so much sloppier this time. teeth and tongues clashing and when bada comes up for air, theres a line of spit between the two of you,

"open your mouth."

you comply, mouth opening almost immediately at the command. bada sticks her thumb inside and you instinctively close your mouth around it. bada kisses her way down your neck. she stops just above your collarbones and mouths over the area. she feels you take a deep breath as she sucks a mark into you. she bites at the skin first, makes her mark, and then tongues around the area, pulling away to lightly blow cool air. she loves to watch the goosebumps on your skin.

once she's done enough damage to your neck, she switches her attention to your chest. she takes a nipple into her mouth and groans. she fucking loved your tits. she pulls away with a pop,

"so good for me hmm?" she smirks against your skin when you whine against her thumb. she removes her digit from your mouth.

"'m good for you- your good girl- fuck." you moan out as she grinds her strap against your core. you try and pull her closer and she pulls away from you,

"say please." she teases, one hand takes the silicone cock and fucks just the head of it into your pussy. your back arches,

"please. please fuck me."

bada grins again, wordlessly sliding into you in one swift thrust. she revels in your gasp. she pulls almost all of the way out and grinds back into you. her hips are like water as the fluidly go back and forth. her hips stutter when she hears a particularly loud moan, making sure to grind up into that spot.

she wraps a hand around your neck and lightly squeezes, "you like it baby? you like when i take you like this?"

you respond by pulling her back down to your lips, she meets you in a messy liplock.

"deeper- please baby go deeper." you whine, hands grabbing at bada's back. she pulls out until only the head of her strap was left and pushes back into you. you inch up the bed at how hard she was fucking you. her hand comes to cradle the top of your head, making sure you never hit the headboard.

"what happened to my sweet y/n? huh?" she pulls out and slams back into you, "when you could barely ask me to kiss you, now you're begging for me to go harder, deeper." her eyes bore into yours, "you're just a needy little thing, arent you? "

your eyes water. she was fucking you too good. one hand cradled your head and the other was grasping onto the sheets to steady herself. you could feel her in your stomach and it made you lightheaded. fuzzy. you wanted her to crawl into your skin and stay there.

she taps your cheek, bringing you back to reality, "am i fucking you too good baby? mmh? or does my pretty girl need more?"

you whimper, murmering out a quiet "please" and bada takes this as an enthusiastic yes.

she leans back, the hand covering your head smoothes down your stomach and she leans back onto her feet, one hand going behind her for support. she fucks up into you, and in this position, she hits your g spot perfectly with each thrust. you also get a view of your girlfriend getting lost in your sounds. she's got one hand pressing on your lower stomach, her hips roll into yours. her bun coming nearly undone, stray hairs falling into her face. and- oh- she just put her shirt in her fucking mouth. her brows are furrowed, forehead creasing at how much she's focused on making you feel good.

your body lights up, eyes rolling to the back of your head. your hands grip the sheets behind you and bada's groaning out with each thrust as if she's fucking her own cock into you. she thinks she could cum like this. fucking into you, watching and hearing you getting mindfucked into oblivion. she fucks you like she wants you to only know her and the way she languidly rolls her hips into your own.

you were so upset earlier about how she acted in front of her class today. she put on a show for them, showed them something only you were supposed to witness; to feel.

what she doesn't tell you is that she imagined you under her the entire time.

so now she's imitating exactly what she was doing to that floor, this time, with a partner.

she knows you're about to cum when your eyes become hazy and unfocused. she cant help but be selfish in the moment. she wants to feel you cum. she wants to be the one making you feel this good. she wants to feel you clench around her, grip at her hair, shove her closer to your aching cunt. so she does what any sane person does and pulls out.

you don't even have the time to process being empty, bada yanks you by your legs to the edge of the bed and gets on her knees.

"wanted to feel you cum," she grabs the back of your thighs so that your knees are against your chest, a certain anklet dangling dangerously by her ears. she spits on your pussy and dives right in. she licks a stripe up between your lips, a stuttered moan leaving her mouth. she presses soft kisses to your sensitive clit, one hand coming down to rub at your opening.

your knees knock together, trapping bada in between your thighs,

she flicks her eyes up, "spread your legs."

you relax them a bit.

"gonna make you cum in my mouth. wanna feel you."

she inserts two fingers into you, scissoring you open. you're so wet that she can hear squelching sounds as she pushes them in, pulls them out.

she wraps her mouth around your clit and sucks. that does it for you. your back arches and the only thing keeping bada's head getting squished between your legs is her arm holding your knees to your chest. a hand flies to her head, grasping her hair. your toes curl and you feel your stomach coil up in expectation. bada's fingers fuck you through it. her mouth not leaving where you've needed it most.

bada's eyes roll to the back of her head. she could barely fucking breathe and if she were to go out, theres no better place than between your legs.

as you come down from your high, you had to physically push bada from your weeping cunt. when she lets up, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glazed over. she crawls on top of you and forces your mouth open by pushing on your jaw. she spits in your mouth and leans down to swap your own wetness between each other.

you both pant as bada releases you, smoothing your hair down and chuckling,

"you still wanna switch places with the floor?"

[sideblog-ver3]

club bang (18+)

(vampire boobs) (spider webs) (big dick steve)

“oh- oh fu- fuck me… ah- ah stevie.”

the loud bass and synth of the club music echoed through the cracks of the locked bathroom door. there was whooping and hollering, people talking loudly and screeching from intoxication just outside the door.

“you like that? my cock hitting you good?” steve’s left hand wrapped in your hair tight while his right held onto your hip as he snapped himself hard against your ass. stomach pressing into the cool countertop, left hand gripping onto the sink while you reached behind with your right to hold onto steve’s wrist.

you stared into yourself, mirrored reflection bathed in the seductive red glow of the club lighting. mouth hanging open, jaw dropping off its hinges while your eyes fluttered with each thrust and deep touch from steve’s tip. your moans started to sync in rhythm with the remixed version of a pop song, you started to whine more high pitched when steve picked up speed.

“ah ah ah ah- so- go- good- ah ah ah.” head tilting foreward, eyes catching the motion of your tits bouncing.

“atta girl. taking it like a champ, baby.” grip releases your hair, giving your scalp a moment to breath as you both catch your breath and feel steve adjust you into a new position.

his legs spreading a bit wider, palms manhandling your hands to push into the mirror then gripping at your hips again. harder this time, an excited gasp as the pressure to your skin.

“be a good girl and watch me fuck you good.” lips attacking your neck, then down to your shoulders before pulling away. you couldn’t contain the whine at the lack of kisses he’s given in the last thirty minutes. “kisses later, baby. need to fuck you badly.” a growl to steve’s words caused you to clench around his slick cock.

“oh, yeah. keep- keep doing that.” steve demanded as he bent his knees a bit and started to thrust at a different angle. tip ramming into that sweet spot steve can always find, the one that turns you into putty.

“stevie… fuck…” only able to get those two words about before more oohs and aahs dropped from your gaping mouth.

“going dumb on me? cat got your tongue, baby?” a condescending to steve’s taunt. you nodded, fully cock drunk with each thrust and grunt that followed.

changing positions again, steve dragged his left hand over your bouncing chest before letting his long, slim fingers wrap snugly along your throat. then moving his right over your exposed stomach, teasing fingers taking their time to reach your clit and starting to tease at the nub.

“ah ah, the- there, yes yes yes! oh, stevie!” using one hand to hold onto his forearm. your pussy sucked him in tighter, feeling yourself getting closer with each flick. “close- so close…” declaring to steve.

“me too, fuck. i’m gonna- gonna cum inside. it’ll stay there all night, our- our secret.” reaching to squeeze at a bouncing tit. “gonna eat you out when we go home.” purring into your ear.

“ah… stevie-“ “i know, me too. just let go.” teeth biting at your left ear lobe, lips wetting the skin as he pulled away. the action only spurred you on further, feeling your heart speeding up, legs getting shaky by the second and drool rolling from your lips.

“cum on my cock baby, you can do it. and i’ll cum in this pussy, claiming it as mine” and stars exploded behind your eyes. a loud, cracked moan flooded the tiny bathroom, steve’s low hums a second after and you could feel his warm cum mixing with your dripping arousal.

steve pressed a kiss onto the back of your neck, “that’s my baby. did so good for me.” and he slowly slid out your hole, both of you gasping at the sensation.

steve worked to slid your panties back on, making sure to give the band a snap to your hips then fixed your mini skirt into place. you worked to fix your hair and what was left of your makeup while steve tucked himself back into his levi’s.

wrapping his arms from behind, steve rested his chin onto your shoulder. love struck eyes watching your face as you smiled at him through the mirror.

“ready to go back?” he asked. you knew he meant the crowd but you shook your head and bit into your bottom lip before saying, “nah. let’s go home. wanna sixty-nine with you all night.” and who was steve to say no to you.

[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.

[suashii]

୨♡୧ PRETTY LITTLE DISTRACTION — you want his attention elsewhere.

pairing. dan heng x reader.

warnings. f!reader. established relationship. college au. finger sucking. all characters written 18+.

dan heng’s bedroom is flooded with warmth as he opens the door to the bathroom, steam from his shower escaping the en suite. there’s a towel on his head and his hands make work of drying inky black strands of hair, though a few drops of water drip from his bangs down the bridge of his nose. gray sweatpants hang low on his waist, his v line on display and thin, dark hairs peeking out from his waistband. your eyes linger there and you miss the way dan heng’s brows furrow upon seeing the mattress void of his laptop and books. “where’d my stuff go?”

“i put it all on your desk,” you tell him, dragging your gaze up his abdomen and chest, finally reaching his glacier eyes. “you need to take a break.”

he tosses his towel in the hamper before joining you on the bed. you scoot closer to him, taking his hand in yours to play with his fingers. the motion does little to derail his train of thought.  “i did. the shower was my break.”

“yeah, right. i bet you were drawing equations on the steamed-up glass.” dan heng rolls his eyes at that but you ignore it and sit up on your knees. your fingers continue to trace lines over his knuckles with your next words. “it’s not a break if you’re still thinking about the material. you’ve gotta take your mind off of it.”

he raises his eyebrows, if only slightly. “is that so?”

you nod matter of factly, as if your statement should have been obvious.

“then what do you suppose i do to take my mind off of everything?” dan heng asks, his resolve slowly beginning to slip. you have a knack for doing that, convincing him to change his mind. your honeyed voice is hypnotizing; captivating in a way he can’t explain but certainly doesn’t mind.

you lick your lips before they curl up into a grin. dan heng is the epitome of a good student and while you’re proud of him for keeping up with his studies, you selfishly desire to pull him away every now and then. that eagerness is rearing its head now as you swing one of your legs over his hips so that you’re straddling him. you haven’t let go of his hand yet and you don’t plan on doing so any time soon, raising his lithe fingers to your face.

the scent of almond butter follows him, wafting under your nose and feeding your craving for dan heng. you need a taste of him and with his fingers so close to you, the thought of popping them in your mouth grows more and more enticing with each passing second. it wins you over quickly and you slip his pointer finger past your puffy lips. your eyes drift closed, lashes brushing the tops of your cheeks as you moan around his digit.

the sound has more of an effect on dan heng than he’d like to admit. half of the blood in his body rises up to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, painting them both a pleasant pink while the other half goes down, fueling the slowly rising tent in his sweats. you suck at his finger leisurely, let your tongue swirl around it in lazy, wet circles. the act draws a sigh from dan heng’s lips, a shaky one that sounds twice as loud to him in the silence of his room.

you smile around him upon hearing his reaction, dragging your lips up his finger and suckling sweetly at the base of his nail. his chest rises and falls beneath your unoccupied hand, his heart ricocheting off his ribs. another hint of his arousal presses against you, growing harder, more difficult to ignore as you continue to suck at his finger. 

it’s subconscious, the way your hips roll and the slow grind of your panty-clothed pussy over dan heng’s aching cock. he tosses his head back against the cushioned headboard, choking out a moan at the sudden attention you’re paying to the sensitive bulge in his pants. it makes your tummy flip and flutter as you breathe out a sigh around him, goosebumps raising all the way up his arm.

there’s only so much satisfaction you can get from suckling away at his finger, rubbing against him with so many layers between you. it won’t be enough to soothe the throbbing of your clit and you think the same can be said of dan heng’s erection. you’re hungry for more.

“mm,” you hum around his finger before releasing it with an exaggerated pop. you dip your head to capture the man’s lips in a messy kiss, still languidly grinding against his hard-on. a string connects the two of you once you finally pull away and only breaks when your lips move to pose a question. “how’s this for a distraction?”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[skulla-rxcks]

ok hear me out.

Chan on his weekly live (ik it's no more channies room but anyways), as he comes to the end and gives STAY his famous "big hug", he hears Y/N enter his room, he's quick to end the live, but in all the hurry he pressed the wrong button, he didn't end the live, So now STAY can see him, but he doesn't know, mabye he can like- yk have s€x w Y/N while hes in camera? No need to but the idea just popped up in my head at school today so I just had to ask u (plz tag me if u do it tho)

WRONG BUTTON !

Paring: bang chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut, channies room :(

Warnings: v*ginal, praise, Twitter goes insane, Chan accidentally doesn’t end stream 👀

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28

Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

For @foivestarrsketchez 🧡 !

A/n: I miss channies room man :’) (fuck Jyp, all my homies hate Jyp 😔✊) one of my friends just recently became a stay so they probs don’t know what it is. *sobs* i forgot how most of it ended too.. so I’m sorry about that, hopefully it’s okay tho !

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Annnd.. that’s it! Thank you STAYS for tuning into another episode of Channies room and I’ll see you all next time!” Chan says, looking over to the door and seeing me wanting to enter.

He brings two of his fingers up to his eye, making his signature peace sign before pressing what he thought was the end button.

“Chris..” I mumble out, moving towards him. “I know baby, come here.” He coos, pulling me onto his lap. “What do you need?” Chan asks me, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. “You..” I cry, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I need more of an explanation than that.” He chuckles, making me scoot back a bit so he can take his shirt off. “Dick.. I want your dick in me.” I beg.

“Good girl.” He smirks at me, unclipping my bra and watching it fall off my shoulders. “Fuck.. you’re so fucking hot..You gonna ride me?” Chan asks as he motions for me to get off his lap. I watch as he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out. “Wait. Condom.” I pause. “Don’t worry, i have one here.” He answers, I get back on his thigh and roll the rubber over his already erect dick.

“mmgh..” I whine as he stretches me out, my eyes squinting with pleasure.

“Oh god baby.. you’re so fucking tight and warm.” His hands make their way up to my waist as he begins to rock his hips up to meet mine. “Channie..” I moan, rubbing my hands up and down his chest. “Mmm.. fuck!” I move my head down so our lips meet. I capture his lips and begin kissing him. Our lips moving together in a rhythm. While we’re making love to each other there’s a knock on the door. Ignoring it, we continue doing what we were doing. I start riding him faster, moaning into his mouth as we both take each other.

“Fucking hell your cunts so addicting..” Chan groans into the kiss, his hands gripping my hips and bringing me up and down faster on his cock. “Y-you feel so good in me..” I whimper, one of my hands moving from his chest to rub my twitching pussy.

Another knock is done on the door, making me pissed off that someone’s trying to interrupt us, Chan notices the change of emotion in me and decides to call out to the person knocking on the door. “Yes? I’m busy right now.” He sighs hoping the person will leave.

“You realise you’re still live right?” It’s Han, he sounds worried and annoyed.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” Chan replies, his eyes widening as worry fills his brain. “Nope, it’s all over the internet, people are talking and recording clips of everything. I’ll just come in and end it properly for you.”

“Shit..”

Han opens the door, keeping his eyes on the floor, acting like he wasn’t aware of what we were doing. He presses the ‘end’ button, double checking that he actually pressed it before deleting the stream off the account.

Han leaves the room, taking Chans laptop and giving the two of us some privacy to finish; since we didn’t have any earlier.

“What if you get kicked out of the group because of me..?” I whine into his neck, feeling a tear flutter out of my eye. “I’ll figure something out, yeah?” Chan replies, thrusting upwards into me. “

If nothing can make you feel better, at least sex does..” he chuckles, leaving a trail of kisses down my neck.

. . .

A few hours past it’s a little bit later, I’m laying in bed with Chan, we decide to check what STAYS are saying on social media about everything that just happened earlier today. It’s more tame than I expected luckily. Not many clips are coming out which i’m happy about people realising we deserve privacy, however it of course is going to be a trending topic all over the place. The other comments people are saying are like ‘i wish I was her’ or ‘Chan’s even hotter than I thought’. Guess that’s what happens when you fuck a kpop idol, huh.

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: Wooyoung x f! Reader (mentioned mingi x reader x wooyoung

Word Count: 1124

Warnings: cursing, none otherwise (smut warnings under cut) (this one jumps right into smut so be warned lol)

Genre: smut, fluff, rated M for mature, established relationship au

Summary: what better way to ravish your boyfriend than to double-stuff him :)

Smut warnings: double penetration, strap on, dom/sub (wooyo sub, reader dom), spitroasting, sex toys (dildos specifically), dirty talk, fake cum, multiple orgasms, feminisation (wooyo calls reader eonni and his parts get called pussy/cunt as well as other feminine pet names for him), praise, anal/oral (male receiving), mentions of a threesome, felching (man i love that shit)

I’m only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 24! pegging/feminisation, and once again I'm doing the latter lol! and please forgive it if its not written well---i dont usually write dom readers lol

And if you want to know what other days I’m doing? You’ll just have to wait and see ;)

-

“Fuck, look at you, princess. So pretty choking on my cock,” you praise, letting your hand tangle in Wooyoung’s soft hair as he looks up at you with his babydoll eyes. “God, you’re so good for me princess.”

Wooyoung whines as best as he can manage around the silicone resting on his tongue as his hips grind against the dildo lodged deep inside his ass. Your free hand squeezes his jaw ever so slightly, eyes trained on the plastic pushing in and out of his mouth. You can feel your cunt grow wetter as the other end of it pushes inside of you. If you squint, you can see your slick dripping down the double-ended dildo into Wooyoung’s waiting mouth.

With every thrust, you push into his mouth and each time, he sinks deeper and deeper onto the thick cock entering his ass. And each time, a low whine comes out from around the cock in his mouth. “God, you’re so greedy for me,” you sigh, your hand caressing his hair as you bring the hand cupping his jaw up to fit a thumb into his mouth, stretching it out impossibly more. “Do you ever think about this? About having another man come here and fill your pussy up? I see the way you look at Mingi, how you can’t seem to keep your eyes off his hands. Do you want them wrapped around your pretty neck?”

Wooyoung pulls off your dick with a pop, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “God, please, yes,” he whines, blinking up at you and you can’t help but lean down to press your lips against his. Even after fucking his mouth for a good while, you can still taste the peach chapstick he always steals from you on his lips

“You’re so pretty for me, baby. Are you close?” He nods quickly, his pretty lips pouting so perfectly as you press the dildo back into his mouth as your thrusts get more and more erratic. “God, you’re so perfect and open and willing for me baby. Go on, come for me.”

With a high-pitched whine, he comes, his body shaking like a leaf and you smile as you press a button, making the cock in his ass shoot out the fake cum, filling him up as his moans spill out endlessly from the feeling of being full. As you pull carefully out of his mouth, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer. You won’t need much to push you over the edge, so you pull out of his mouth slowly.

“Baby, you get to choose. Do you want me to eat you out, or do you want me to sit on your cock until you come again? The choice is yours.” You punctuate your sentence by gently slapping the silicone against his spit-covered cheek.

Wooyoung pushes his bangs out of his face, sitting up on his heels with a too-innocent look in his eyes. “Want you to eat me out, please,” he begs and you bend down and kiss him again, slipping your tongue in his mouth.

“Thank you for asking nicely, baby,” you hum, patting his head. “Now, come on, turn around for me. Do you want to suck on that dick for me? Make it clean while I taste you?”

Wooyoung can hardly form sentences, scrambling around to present his perfect ass to you. You can’t help but spread the thick flesh with your hands, getting a good look at his slick hole and half-hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. Before he can whine about how long you’re taking, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to his puckered rim, letting your tongue flick out to get a taste of the fake cum.

“So pretty, baby,” you sigh, pressing two fingers into his ass and admiring the way it seems to be trying to suck your fingers in deeper. “Look at your pretty cunt dripping come. You wish it was Mingi, huh? Want him buried deep inside of you?”

“No, just want you, eonni,” he moans around the cock, and you can practically hear the tears in his thick voice. “Please, please, more.”

You chuckle at his whining, pressing another long kiss to his rim. “Pretty princess, don’t be impatient.” And without another moment's hesitation, you fit a third finger into him, leaning down to lick up the mixture of lube and cum dripping down his length to press it back into his hole before spitting on his ass.

The moans he’s letting out are so pretty that your thighs can’t help but squeeze together as you clench around nothing. “Fuck,” he moans, popping off the dildo as he presses the top of his head against the wall. “You’re so deep inside of me– I’m gonna cum–”

You chuckle against his ass, your fingers working deeper until they press against that spot that has his hicks kicking as he cries out in ecstasy. “Fuck, already? Gonna come again for me, princess? Your precious cunt is swallowing my fingers so well, baby.”

With one last high-pitched cry, Wooyoung comes dry, his hole clenching around your fingers so tight you think he might snap them off. “Ah, shit,” you groan, sitting back on your heels and letting your hands drift to the dildo still inside of you, pumping it in and out as you chase your high.

As you are getting closer and closer to the peak, warm hands cover your own and your eyes snap open to see Wooyoung, his hair a mess and a smirk on his face taking hold of the dildo, pumping it slowly into you as his other hand thumbs at your clit. With a broken cry, you come, letting your head fall to rest upon Wooyoung’s, breathing in his floral shampoo as you let your orgasm wash over your body.

“Fuck,” you sigh, finally sitting back on the ground and letting the plastic fall out of your sopping cunt.

And, like the lovable menace he is, Wooyoung crawls under your arm and presses his face into your neck, pressing light kisses over the sensitive skin. “That was good,” he hums, smiling up at you with a tired shine to his eyes.

You smile back, carding your fingers through the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat. “It was,” you agree amicably.

“Do…do you think next time we could have Mingi join?”

You laugh and smack his arm gently. “You’re incorrigible, Woo,” you sigh fondly, but pause and think about it. The idea of Mingi just enveloping Wooyoung in his body makes your mind blur. “Maybe we can. Next time.”

“Next time,” Wooyoung repeats, his eyes fluttering close as you press a kiss to the crown of his head.

-

@cultofdionysusnet

[maynardmaniac07]

Is there any way to get a real good Harry Lewis smut? 👀 like everyone thinks he’s so shy and gentle but once he’s behind closed doors is game over lmao

A/N: I can sure have a go for you! I hope you enjoy it

Certain Settings (Harry Lewis/WroeToShaw Smut)

Y/N's POV

When you look at Harry, what do you think?

Shy?

Awkward?

Well he is all of those things... in certain settings

I can honestly tell you as his girlfriend of 4 years, he is an animal in the bedroom

He is so adventurous it is unreal!

He will literally do it anywhere and everywhere

Some of the places we have done it are definitely not legal

But I won't go any deeper into that

Our sex life will never be boring

We are currently out at a restaurant with all the boys and their girlfriends finishing our desserts off and Harry told me to put a vibrator in and he has been messing about with the remote this whole time

I have tried to keep a straight face all evening but its been a struggle

He has a remote on his phone and he keeps turning it up to high and then completely off.

By the time, everyone has finished their desserts, I am permanently glaring at Harry from across the table

"So who's going to club then?" JJ asks

There are a few mumbles in agreement from everyone

"Actually me and Y/N are going to go home, I promised that we would have some alone time" Harry explained

Everyone lets out a laugh in unison

"So that means that you two are going to go home and fuck" Ethan says

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do" Freya says with a wink

"And don't forget protection" Talia says as everyone gets up from he table

I roll my eyes at everyone as we say our goodbyes and Harry guides me out of the restaurant and into an uber

When we get into the back seat, Harry pulls me close

"You've been such a good girl for daddy, haven't you?" he mumbles into my ear

"Yes daddy" I reply back quietly even though the taxi driver isn't deaf and is probably heard us already

"Daddy's going to fuck you nice and good when we get home, do you think you deserve daddy's cock?" He questions

"Yes daddy, I've been a good girl! I need your cock" I plead quietly

Harry hums

"Well baby, we will have to see. If your good, I might let you cum twice, one from you toy and one from daddy's cock" He says

I feel Harry's hand travels down under my dress and runs his hand up and down my thong that is between my pussy lips

Harry has a thing about me wearing thongs, he loves to see it when it is pulled up high and the material is sat between my pussy lips

It turns me on as well so I can't complain

When he feels it, I see a smile spread across his face

"This is just how I like it princess, a toy in you and your panties tight against your pink cunt" He mumbles to me before he pulls me into a kiss

It isn't long before we get back to our flat

Harry is quick to drag me up to our flat

We are quick to get in and as soon as I shut the door behind us, Harry pushes me against it

“I can’t wait anymore! I need you right here, right now” Harry says before he tugs my dress up and over my head 

My boobs pop out from my dress, leaving them against the cold wood and I’m left just in my panties

I feel Harry’s hands go to the waistband of my panties and push them down my legs to the floor

Harry wraps his arms around my body and pulls my body against his

His hand slides down to my pussy, before he takes hold of the cord that is connect to the toy and slowly pulls on it pulling it out 

“Ahhh” I gasp as it slowly slips out of me

Once it is out, I hear it drop to the floor with a bang and then I hear the sound of a zip

It isn’t long before I feel Harry’s cock rubbing up against my inner thigh

“I spent all day stretching you with that toy, I should be able to slip right in” Harry mumbles into my ear

He directs his cock to my opening, before sliding in

“Fuck!” I squeal

Harry doesn’t even wait to adjust, he just starts fucking me at a brutal place 

“How are you still so tight? When I have been stretching your pussy all day” Harry says with a groan

He continues to fuck me harder than he has ever done before

Yes we are adventurous, but god this is mind blowing

One of Harry’s hands is wrapped around me holding me close and the other is reaching around and pinching my nipples

“Fuck, feels so good Daddy” I moan 

“You’re such a good girl for me, so beautiful! You’re all mine!” Harry tells me 

We continue for a while longer before I am literally about to explode

“Daddy, please let me cum! Please!” I moan

“You can cum whenever you like baby, cum for me” He tells me

I scream with pleasure as I reach my climax

As I clench around Harry, I feel him bust his nut inside me

He thrusts a few more times before he pulls out and cuddles me close

“I love you so much” He says to me, as he kisses my neck

“I love you too! Now let’s have a shower because we smell like sex” I say with a chuckle

Harry quickly grabs me and picks me up and carries me to the shower

And if we went for another round in the shower, no one has to know

A/N: PLEASE REQUEST SOME IMAGINES

Masterlist

[muns0nslov3r]

Hiiii :)) so i would like to request some pegging w/ sub!Jonathan x dom!reader 💜💜

a/n ; ofc! so sorry didn't get to it right away :( wasn't checking my Tumblr stuff, plus been so exhausted :((

warning : sub!jonathan, pegging, praise, Dom!gentle!reader, petnames like : good boy, love, pretty boy, anal fingering, mommy kink.

minors dni

~~~~~

“you want me to do what?” you asked sitting on your bed under your fluffy blanket. “I want you to peg me..” the boy across you mumbled, his face flushed with a pretty shade of pink. 

“I understand if you dont want to.” he sighed rubbing his eyes which were red from his high “ I didn't say I dont want to love, just shocked me that's all” you rubbed his back comforting him.

you and Jonathans sex life wasn't horrible. you two had great sex, always wanting to try new things from time to time. wasn't all the time but at least you got to have your boys pretty cock inside you.

he looked at you as you planted a kiss on his lips, rubbing his cheek as you smiled “ ill gladly try it out with you love” you whispered in his ear as he shuddered gripping your hips as he swallowed harshly. kissing you again as he rubbed your hips pulling you deeper in the kiss.

you got into his lap kissing him more licking his bottom lip as he let your tongue inside, exploring and bumping with his tongue. he tasted like a mixture of mint chapstick and weed.

grinding against his cock with your ass feeling his cock grow hard. “ wait wait..” you stopped him pulling your head back to reveal a string of spit connected to his tongue. “ how are we going to do this..? we dont have anything..” you fixed his bangs as his face turned pink again.

“ uh. I bought something. and its uh in my bag.” he mumbled as you felt your core tingle feeling you already soak your panties. he sat up grabbing his bag as you left sloppy kisses on his neck. as he pulled out a dildo with a strap. “oh my..” you giggled kissing his neck more. 

he moaned slightly at the feeling biting his bottom lip “ take your pants off ok pretty boy?” you said against his neck as you heard his belt coming undone and going down with his pants.

“good boy” you smirked kissing his jaw as he felt his cock twitch in his boxers.

you rubbed his thigh as you kept kissing the soft skin on the boy. he whimpered slightly as you squeezed his cock through his boxers.

you helped him get undress as he did the same with you. gripping at your breasts sucking on them “oh love..your so cute.” you moaned earning a groan from the boy.

pulling his mouth of your nipple with a ‘pop!’. looking up at you as you strapped the straps on, connecting the dildo to it. Jonathan watched trying not to rub his strained throbbing cock.

it was aching, leaking a bead of pre-cum on the red tip, it wasn't thick but it was a nice full feeling whenever it slid into your pussy.

he went onto his tummy lifting his ass up as he hid his face into one of your pillows, sucking in your sweet scent, he could smell your shampoo ad perfume on it. making his cock twitch.

you grabbed a little bottle of lube. opening the top as you let some drip onto the boys puckering hole, watching him squirm at the coldness of the room and the lube. “doing so good pretty boy” you smirked kissing his plump flesh of his pretty ass.

you used your middle finger rubbing the lube around his hole more helping your finger get coated as you slid it in “my fingers going in now.” you rubbed his back as it slid in, letting him adjust as he gripped your silk pillow case. 

a whine leaving his parted lips as you moved your finger slowly. he was melting under the pleasure as he moaned thighs already quivering.

you moved your finger at a painfully slow pace. “ more..” the boy panted as he groaned in frustration “ you sure? dont want to hurt you love..” you looked at him “I'm s-sure” he sighed feeling your finger go a bit faster.

“oh fuck mommy.”

you stopped as he lifted his head up “ shit m’so sorry! I didn't-” he got cut off by a fast thrust of your finger “ you like that huh? you like mommy fingering you love?” you teased, hearing Jonathan moan.

“love it so much mommy.” he bit his bottom lip “more..I want more please.” “ oh you're such a needy boy” you said earning a nod from him, putting another finger inside as he loved the stretch from your fingers.

it was a while as you pulled out your fingers. “ think your ready pretty boy” you kissed his ass as he nodded. you reached under the strap on to move your fingers between your fold gather your slick.

and putting it on the fake cock coating it as you smirked. lining the tip to his hole “ and its going in..oh fuck taking it so well.” you praised him as you watched the dildo go in his tight hole.

he gasped biting at his bottom lip to keep quiet “ y-you can move..” you heard the boy mumble as you started to move your hips slow, hearing him whine and breathy moans leave his pretty swollen lips.

your thrusts started to get a bit faster, the boy already turning it a mess. his moans were always music to your ears if you could you would record it and listen to them over and over and over. 

“ oh fuck mommy it feels so good! moremoremoremore please!!” he moaned as your hips went faster, as you gripped his hips rubbing his back with your other hand “ doing so fucking good, you love mommy cock hm?” you asked as he nodded. blabbing about how good it felt.

you smirked as he let out a high pitched whimper as you pushed it all the way in slowly “ take it all.. good boy” you kissed his spine as you snapped your hips against his hard.

“fuck!” he moaned gripping your poor sheets so hard they might rip.

your hips kept snapping against his smiling down at him as you petted his head lifting it up a bit to hear his breathy moans. “ fuck mommy if you keep doing that im going to c-cum..” he whined

“ aww you dont wanna cum?” you teased stopping your thrusts.

“no I wanna cum so bad please!!” he whined tears showing up in his eyes. “ oh pretty boy dont cry you'll get to cum I promise.” you kissed his cheek as your movements began to happen. 

thrusting deep and fast, each thrust hitting his prostate hearing him gasp and cry out. “ oh fuck m’cummming!!” he whined arching his back as you giggled “ that's it cum for mommy” you said as you held him close, his back against your breasts.

ropes of white shot out the silt, there was so much it was covering your poor pillow. he whimpered arching his head back into your shoulder as you helped him ride out his high. 

you slowly pulled out as you let him lay down. a fucked out mess. 

you grabbed a cloth as you got it wet, going to him as you cleaned him up rubbing his back. helping him get back into his soft sweater and sweatpants.

changing your pillow case as you two cuddled holding each other as you fell into a deep slumber.

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Grandaddy - The Paradise, Boston, Massachusetts, August 9, 2003

Twenty years ago, my girlfriend Dulcie and I climbed aboard the Grandaddy tour bus, which was parked in front of the Paradise on Commonwealth Ave. I was just a kid, trying to get some music journalist cred; this may not have been going backstage to interview Mick at a Rolling Stones concert, but it felt like a big deal at the time!

I chatted for a while with drummer Aaron Burtch, who was a super nice dude. Dulcie (who I would soon marry!) snapped some pics afterwards (Jason Lytle was a no show, sadly). Later, we caught the show in the very very very hot Paradise. Grandaddy was a (surprisingly?) terrific live band both times I saw them — something that's on display on this excellent recording. It's available on the massive Grandaddy Live Archive, which is a wonderful resource. All bands should have a page like this!

And hey, here's the article I wrote for the long-defunct Junkmedia.org:

The execs at V2 Records were shocked earlier this year when they received the tapes for Grandaddy's new record, mysteriously titled Arm of Roger: The Ham and Its Lily. The label was expecting big things from the band, especially following the critical and commercial success of 2000's masterful The Sophtware Slump. But after almost a year of recording in frontman Jason Lytle's home studio, the Modesto, CA-based group had turned in a follow-up that was disappointing, to say the least.

In fact, the new record was terrible.

Kicking off with the sonic mayhem of "Robot Escort" and closing with an offensive, if nonsensical ditty called "The Pussy Song", Arm of Roger was nothing short of career suicide — 35 minutes of un-listenable garbage. V2 staff members spent about a week in a state of panic, thinking that one of their flagship bands had gone completely off the deep end.

Grandaddy drummer Aaron Burtch chuckles, recalling the label's reaction. "The people who didn't know us that well there, they were saying, 'We've gotta get these guys into rehab, this is a bad situation, there's absolutely no way we can put this record out.'" But finally, the band's A&R; person, Kate Hyman, left a message on Lytle's answering machine.

"OK, motherfuckers," she said. "Where's the real album?"

"There had just been one too many record label calls to Jason's house, wondering where the record was," Burtch laughingly explains, relaxing in the "smoking lounge" of Grandaddy's tour bus a few hours before the band's show at the Paradise in Boston. As "a kind of tension-breaker" at the tail-end of a long and difficult year of recording sessions, Lytle, guitarist Jim Fairchild, and keyboardist Tim Dryden concocted the Arm of Roger album in three alcohol-fueled nights. "They just got super-hammered and banged this really stupid record out really fast," Burtch says. "And then we Fed-Ex'd it right over to them. It's good to keep people on their toes. Especially record labels."

V2 must have breathed a collective sigh of relief when Grandaddy duly delivered Sumday a week later. Picking up where The Sophtware Slump left off, the "real album" is easily one of the year's best. While not as career-defining as its predecessor, Sumday refines the band's futuristic pop sound and features some of Lytle's most accomplished songwriting to date. Like all Grandaddy releases, the new album is a self-produced affair. "One hundred percent of the album was recorded at Jason's house," states Burtch proudly. "We've always, always done that. I don't think we could do it any other way."

Despite the comfortable confines of Lytle's home studio, Sumday's birthing process wasn't an easy one. "It took a long time," Burtch says. "There were five or six months of set-up time, starting with us getting a bunch of new gear in. Then we had to make sure everything worked. And then we had to make sure Jason knew how to work it all." Finally, the band commenced recording, only to hit a wall about halfway through. "We had about six songs finished, but we had to take a break so Jason could get his head back on straight. He had just been down in the dungeon for months by that point."

Another disturbing development was Modesto's burgeoning reputation in the media as a hotbed for shady activities. "It's become the capital of young missing women, which is kind of scary," Burtch says of the central California tract-housing sprawl Grandaddy calls home. "There were the Yosemite Murders four years ago, and then the whole Laci Peterson thing happened. It's terrible, but if you live there, you just think, 'That fuckin' figures'." Still, he has no plans to relocate. "It's a weird place, for sure," he admits. "But I'm not gonna move, as far as I know. That's because we've all kind of built our own little oasis there that's separate from everything else."

Not that the band will be spending much time stoking the homefires in the coming months. With a tour itinerary that began in April and stretches well into December, they'll be lucky to spend more than a weekend off of the road. "This," says Burtch, pausing to gesture towards the cramped confines of the band's tour bus, "is not what we do. We make music, and we'd like to play shows, but we don't want to play a show a night for a year and a half. Radiohead has it down. They put out their record, play forty shows and then they go home. It'd be neat to be afforded a luxury like that. That would be the ideal. Big records, not so big tours."

Grandaddy isn't at this level yet — not by a long shot. Still, the band is selling out most of their club dates, and is greeted rapturously by fans. Upcoming shows in the UK and the US with Super Furry Animals will see the band reaching an even larger audience. "That'll be really cool," says Burtch. "Super Furry Animals had us come out and open for them in the UK in 1998, before anyone knew who we were out there. We've been friends with them since then. And that was the first time we'd played big places, with proper sound equipment and all that. So we owe them a huge debt."

Of course, the current tour was almost over before it began. During the band's spring stint as the opening act for Pete Yorn, guitarist Fairchild was literally run over by a tour bus carrying production equipment. After a few too many post-concert libations, he stumbled down some stairs and found himself beneath the wheels of the 18-wheeler. Miraculously, Fairchild only broke some small bones under his shoulder, and was onstage performing (with his arm in a sling) a few days later. "Hey, shit happens," says Burtch of the incident. "Sometimes you almost die, sometimes you don't. You put a bunch of skateboarders in a bus and tell 'em 'You can't do this and you can't do that, and you have to be back here at one o'clock' — you're fuckin' asking for it. Shit happens..."

[kamoshidakun]

Mindless Self Indulgence

Fandom: Persona 3 Ship: SEES Orgy Rating: Explicit, R-18, NSFW Warnings: BESTIALITY aka fuuka bangs a dog, SHOTACON Prompt: "Noooo fuuka don't fall down in front of Koromaru!" + "SEES loses to shadows"

As more than one party member fell several floors up, Fuuka felt like she needed to do something. Akihiko-senpai, Shinjiro-senpai, and Aigis had gone up to resuscitate the rest of SEES an hour ago. Nothing was heard. Swallowing, Fuuka went up the steps with Koromaru following close behind. She'd just use Healing Wave and a few healing items on Yukari who could patch the rest of them up. However, when she and Koromaru finally made it to the floor where everyone was the sight of an orgy surrounding a pair of Cupids greeted her.

Ice water pulsed through Fuuka's veins as she watched the debauchery take place. Even Ken was in on it! She squirmed in discomfort as she watched Mitsuru work the boy's cock between her heavy tits and her tongue into the boy's ass. Yukari ate her out with gusto between her senpai's legs as Junpei railed into her from behind. Aigis was behind Junpei with her own face shoved between his cute cheeks. Akihiko, Shinjiro, and Minato drilled into Hamuko in all her holes next to the rest of the group.

The sight kept her completely still. She couldn't even summon Lucia. Everything in front of her was just a huge distraction. She didn't even hear Koromaru start to growl beside her as the Cupids noticed the two of them. A wave of glowing pink shot toward Fuuka who saw it too late. Suddenly, Koromaru dove in front of her and took the blow. He landed on all fours. His nails tapped against the mismatched tiles of Tartarus as he thrashed his head around. A low growl grew into a full-on howl before turning toward the green-haired girl.

The only warning Fuuka had that she was about to be mounted was the neon pink flash in Koromaru's eyes before he charged for her.

It was an unforgettable night. How could someone even try to forget the sight of your entire dorm having sex? Though, Fuuka wasn't any better. She was despicable. Koromaru had been affected by the Shadow and attacked her. She knew it wasn't the dog's fault. It wasn't her fault. Yet she felt that she could have tried harder to deny the shiba. She could have used her Persona's few skills to try to heal him. She could have tried to fight him off. She could have tried to talk him out of it. But she didn't. She laid there and took it like the good little bitch she apparently wanted to be. She didn't do anything. So did she always want this? She must have. It was the only way to make sense of her feelings. She ached for the dog every day. Masturbation barely scratched the itch. Sleeping with boys and even older men didn't help either.

Unable to take it any longer, Fuuka led Koromaru into her dorm room. Immediately after 'locking' the door, she crawled onto all fours and hiked up her skirt. Curious, Koromaru stepped toward the girl. His nose was cold against her heated folds. His breath felt just as cold. She gasped. Then suddenly, Koromaru hopped on top of the girl. His cock was out of its sheath and blindly thwapped against her aching slit. Desperate to feel him inside her once again, Fuuka reached back, gripped the red shaft, and lined it up with her oh-so-willing pussy. Then, the shiba pushed forward. His fat cock firmly sheathed itself inside of the girl in one hard yet smooth slam. It didn't take long for him to find a hard and steady rhythm. He panted noisily above her as his knot began to swell and knock into her clit. Then, he was completely inside Fuuka. His knot lodged itself into her aching cunt. She whined as the dog howled above her. Cum splashed against her womb. The door rattled as Koromaru turned around while still attached to Fuuka.

"Is everything okay, Yamagishi?" Mitsuru called out. "Please say something..." Fuuka groaned as she tried to pop Koro-chan out of her but he was stuck. The redhead knocked again before the door rattled open.

"I-I'm coming in--ohmygod."

[pissmoon]

i keep seeing 100s of iterations of pretty much the same post, along the lines of "punk is about ideology! not music!" usually drawn out into several paragraphs, posted with the explicit purpose of justifying OPs insistence on calling themselves a punk despite loathing punk music and pissing their pants at the idea of attending a hardcore show. do you know how many times i've seen mitski called punk without a trace of irony? the internet is a crazy place

Nothing less punk than discussing and longposting about what punk actually is online buuut... There is this online phenomena of picrew icons who would shit their pants if they had to listen to discharge claiming punk as vaguely leftist and 100% free of bigotry. But the punk image, even like of the most anarchist squatter crustie type revolves around edginess and violence and hatred of mass-culture! They are not 'leftist' in the same sense as some socdem Twitter users posting about representantion in Netflix series all day are. 'its not music its ideology' even if it was true you are still not close to that ideology lmfaoooo. Then again i dont personally think it's a scene free of bigotry or ever was - 'the white noise supremacist' by Lester Bangs is a good read on one of first punk venues in nyc and the community around it and how punk in the early years was supposed to be an antithesis to the hippie movement. It was fresh because it was 'edgy' and the music was noisy as antithesis to pretentious prog-rock - but a part of said edginess was using bigotry, racism, nazi imagery even for shock value etc. Anyone can just say 'right wingers dont belong in the scene' (even people... Who themselves dont belong in the scene...? Which is the case with these posts?) online, but being a punk wasnt about posting online they were getting in physical fights over that shit ffs. Why do you think their music is so angry and edgy. Because they are supposed to be angry and edgy. And once pop punk started the punks also started being pussies and posers. This is why music is important, it gets shit and so does the entire movement around it - it's angry because YOU are supposed to be angry too.

[transedhausen]

please please write omegaverse hookhausen please im begging you

ayo @thekentuckyhimbo its what you've been waiting for!!!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tyler chanted, face buried in one of the many pillows lining his nest, a hand on the back of his neck— Donovan’s hand, his mate’s hand— keeping the younger man in place. Sweat was rolling down Tyler's forehead, plastering his bangs there, and he clawed briefly at the blankets, gasping in a sharp breath when Donovan angled himself just right, making Tyler’s pussy clench down, a fresh gush of slick rolling down his trembling thighs. “Donovan, Donovan, I need it, please, please, please,” he begged, too high and needy, but he couldn’t really help it. It wasn’t Tyler’s fault Donovan was so fucking good.

Donovan just grunted in response, and in any other context it would’ve been hilarious. But his dick was inside Tyler’s cunt, pounding him just the right way, knot barely catching the rim, making the younger man mewl and press his hips backwards. “I got you, I got you, I’m gonna fuckin— give you a litter,” Donovan managed to force out, so close to popping his knot it ached, and Tyler made a noise like a wounded animal, pussy fluttering down, getting tighter, then loosening just enough—

The second Donovan’s knot locked in place, he came so hard he went blind for a second. He could still hear Tyler, almost screaming, saying something, shoving himself back on Donovan’s cock even though there was nowhere else to go, nothing more to take. Without a thought, Donovan dug his blunt fingernails into the back of the younger man’s neck. The reaction was exactly what he’d expected; Tyler stilled immediately, whimpering and moaning breathlessly, cunt still pulsing around Donovan’s cock, working shot after shot of cum from him. “Good boy,” Donovan whispered, shuddering a little when Tyler purred, “good omega.”

It was a full hour until Donovan’s knot went down enough to pull out. Tyler groaned and squirmed afterwards, a stream of cum running from his pussy and soaking into the blankets, face screwed up in a frown he only wore while wrestling. “Don’t pout,” Donovan chuckled, kissing his mate’s cheek, one arm wrapped around Tyler’s waist, nose starting to rub at his scent gland. “Feeling better? You don’t feel so hot anymore.” Tyler made a noise like a hum, non-committal, as his eyelids fluttered, rolling onto his side to curl up against Donovan. “I feel fuckin’ tired,” he muttered, rubbing his chest on the older man’s chest, getting comfortable as his breathing evened out, got deeper.