#i am just continually fucked up by things over and over like a girl attempting to swim in the ocean
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Nightmare- Matthew Sturniolo
Summary: You and Matt ended up sleeping in the same bed when you stayed at their house and Matt has a nightmare and cuddles you on accident.
Warnings: Cursing, use of Y/N, Platonic Matt X Reader, fluff.
A/N: THANK YOU TO MY BAE @cosmicmistake42069 FOR REQUESTING THIS! I loved writing this so much!
PSA: THIS WORK BELONGS TO ME MYSELF AND I! DO NOT COPY MY WORK! GET CREATIVE!
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The triplets and I met last year at a party. We all clicked instantly. Matt wasn't a yapper till he came around me then he ‘couldn't shut the fuck up’ according to Nick. Our friendship got to the point where I came over 1-4 times through the week, and on the days I wasn't at their house or they weren't at mine, or when we wouldn't see each other, we would be on Facetime or in our group chat yapping.
“Holy shit it's almost 3 in the morning” I laugh out looking at my phone and noticing how long I've been at the triplets house.
“Girl why don't you just stay here tonight, I don't want you driving this late at night” Nick suggests.
“I have no clothes but I can't just sleep on the couch” I shrugged, I've never stayed over at their house and vice versa.
“Yeah no, you can sleep in some of my clothes, i would not torture someone by sleeping in jeans, and skinny jeans at that point” Chris emphasizes and points at my jeans laughing.
“And you can sleep with me, if you're okay with that obviously, not in a weird or relationship type of way” Matt's attempt to defend himself makes a smile appear on my face, and the way his hands fiddle within themselves.
“Matt we are all way past the awkward stage in our friendship” I laugh out
“Considering Y/N asks my advice for how her boobs look in 90% of her outfits I think we’re all WAY past that stage,” Nick says while laughing.
“What!” Chris and Matt say in unison as their heads jerked towards me.
“Oh please it's not like I'm asking his advice on how to take nudes” I flick my hand up and down in defense laughing.
“I am always here for that if you need that sort of thing” Nick smirks at me.
“WHAT,” They say again in unison.
“Why don't you ever ask for my opinion on how your knockers look in tops,” Chris says acting as if he was hurt.
“Okay knockers is CRAZY” nick and I laugh together.
“I'm only kidding” Chris throws his hands up in defense “I'll go get you some sweats and a hoodie” he laughs walking down the hallway to his room.
“Are you sure you're okay sleeping in my room in the bed with me?” Matt asks as his voice is husk almost in a whisper.
“I'm good Matt, plus I only sleep in one position the whole night” I laugh softly.
“Here are your clothes” Chris comes running around the corner plopping a set of brown and pink fresh love sweatsuits down next to me. “As a matter of fact, keep that set, I mainly wear the blue one anyway” he continues.
“Thank you, Chris, I'm gonna get changed in Matt's room then head to bed, thank you, guys, for letting me crash here for the night” I smile at the boys and walk down the hallway into Matt's room to get changed.
I've seen Matt's room on Facetime before but never in person, it's very him, he's got a couple of pictures on the wall, brown silk sheets, and a small stuffed animal on the bed.
After changing into fresh clothes, I meticulously folded my original outfit and placed it near the door to ensure I wouldn't forget it the next day. As I settled into Matts room, I heard a gentle knock on the door. Upon opening it, I was greeted by the sight of Matt, who was wearing a soft, reassuring smile.
“You look mad comfortable” Matt laughed softly.
“You got silk sheets yes I'm hella comfortable” i laugh snuggling myself under the comforter.
“Sill sheets are the way to go” He flashes a warm smile, slips under the covers, and takes a seat beside me.
I let out a soft yawn shimmying my way down and turning around to my back facing him. “Goodnight Matt”
“Goodnight Y/N” he laughs softly before he turns around where his back faces mine.
𝜗𝜚 A Few Hours Later 𝜗𝜚
I woke up in the same position in which I had fallen asleep, but I was surprised to feel a pair of arms wrapped around my waist.
“No” Matt mutters under his breath tightening his grip on my waist.
“Matt?” i whispered turning towards him.
“Stop- no” he again whispers shaking his head.
“Matt” I turned my body over shaking his shoulder lightly enough to wake him up.
“Fuck” he jumped up with wide eyes looking at me out of breath.
“A-are you okay?” I say rubbing his shoulder in soft circles.
“Yeah” he starts running his fingers through his hair “I had a nightmare and I should have warned you because I've been dealing with like restless nights for like a week now” he laughs softly.
“Its okay matt really, I just didn't know you were a cuddler in your sleep” a soft giggle escaped my lips causing Matt's lips to shift upward.
“I didn't- I just- fuck I'm sorry this is probably awkward now I mean if this is too awkward for you uh you can sleep on the couch or something I mean I'm not forcing you out just I don't want to make you uncomfortable” he babbled getting anxious.
“No matt its okay I'm fine, plus its 4 in the morning I'm okay, we all get nightmares” i comfortably smile at him.
“A-are you sure this isn't awkward? I mean I know it's just cuddling but just I don't wanna ruin anything” he hands his head low fiddling with his fingers.
“Matt it's fine,” I laugh softly “It's not like you were having a wet dream about me”
“God that would have been awkward” he nervously laughs.
“This may be weird but do you think we could uhm cuddle again? You don't have to say yes but maybe it could help you sleep better?” I ask sending him a soft smile.
“I don't mind” he smiles laying on his back and opening his arms out i shake my head playfully and smile laying my head on his chest and my leg intertwined with his.
“Thank you Y/N” he mutters out softly.
“Mhm” I mumble drifting off to sleep.
Matt gazes down at me as I begin to drift off into a deep slumber, a gentle smile gracing his face before he, too, succumbs to sleep.
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A/N pt 2: AHH TY AGAIN FOR REQUESTING THIS I HAD A LOT OF FUN WRITING IT! I hope you guys are having a beautiful morning/ afternoon/ evening/ night!! I love you guys and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT! 🩷🩷
#SoundCloud#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo fanfic#fan fic writing#fan fiction#fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#sturniolo sister
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the 'Ash Ketchum leaving/completing the Pokemon anime' to 'me having a long, emotional, pensive, existential bout of thought on the topics of life and change' pipeline
#Kayla's personal life#i am just continually fucked up by things over and over like a girl attempting to swim in the ocean#swallowed up and struck by wave after wave#Violently resurfacing to breathe only to have it all crash over me again#does an ocean worry about change?#no; it just is#it doesn't understand someone thrashing about against it#it just pummels you until you simply stop fighting it#what it would be like to be the ocean; something that just Is#rather than the someone drowning and choking on the salt of a concept
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Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#call of duty#john soap mactavish#angst with a happy ending#angst#grovel#jealousy
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A/N: Based on this ask right here! Please send feedback because I love to hear it! Also, this was such a cute write, but you know I gotta add my own twist (hehehe)
WC: 1.8k (kinda quick)
Pairing: Bf!Chan x Virgin afab!Reader
Wairing: Fluff and Smut! Loss of virginity, the reader is kinda scared of dicks (that's what was asked in the ask!), pet names (baby and sweetheart), unprotected sex (it's me and Chan, come on), cumming inside, f! fingering, idk what else
“It’s just weird to think about” you sighed, trying to explain your logic behind not wanting to have sex. Scratch that, you want to have sex with Chan, he’s been teasing you for weeks and your fingers haven’t been helping.
Even at the beginning of your relationship, you explained to Chris that you had never had sex, and he understood, telling you it was perfectly fine, but you didn’t tell him the reason why until a few minutes ago.
“I don’t think it’s that weird, it’s a reproductive organ that all men were born with” he chuckled, watching your face of disgust.
“Exactly, men were born with. I’m not a man, so I can live my whole life without seeing one” you emphasized as he came closer to you, nibbling on your ear. “You really can live your whole life without me inside of you baby?”
You whimpered at the thought, knowing that the last time you even looked at a cock, you were disgusted and genuinely petrified at the thought of touching it. “Maybe we can try?” you shrugged, looking up at him.
He almost groaned at the sight of your doe eyes pleading at him to give your cunt some sort of stimulation. You finally came clean about the reason you were so scared to have sex with him, even after watching you rub your thighs together in attempts to give yourself even a sliver of stimulation whenever he kissed you, he never wanted to pressure you.
“Are you sure baby? We will take this nice and slow, we can turn off the lights too, would you like that?” You simply shook your head at that, thankful you had someone who truly cared about you.
He got up from his bed, turning off his lights, and the dimness of his LED lights, the only thing covering his room being a purple hue, allowing you to see the outline of his face.
“Is that good baby?”
“Yes,” you replied, your voice surrounding him. He slowly shifted you, placing your covered cunt against his thigh, flexing it slightly as he dragged you against it. “Feels good baby?” he asked, kissing your neck as you moaned.
“Feels so good” you whimpered as you continued to rut against his thigh, feeling yourself getting wetter. “Good girl” he chuckled as he flipped the two of you over, your back hitting the bed underneath you, head hitting the pillows.
“Chan?” you whispered, confused by what his next step was going to be. “Baby, you don’t think you would be able to take my cock without any prep?”
He slowly pulled down your sleeping shorts and underwear, basking at the sight of your cunt.
“What a sweet-looking pussy” he moaned at the outline, the light not being bright enough to make it out fully.
When you did feel confident in seeing him fuck you, he would ravish your cunt, eating it like his last meal. For now, though, he was going to get you ready for his cock, slowly dragging his fingers against your slit.
“Fuck Channie” you moaned, feeling his cold fingers running against your hot cunt, your mind slowly floating a bit away as you felt him put his first finger into your sopping hole, causing you to moan as your cunt clenched around it.
“Fuck baby, you need to stop clenching around one measly finger. How am I going to get you to take my cock if you can’t even take a finger?”
“Can take it Channie, please need more”
“Aww, baby look at you acting like such a good girl for me. If you want another finger, I can add another one just for you. You just gotta relax for me baby, can you do that?”
You just nodded, trying to release a little bit, allowing him to slowly add another one inside of you. “There we go, look at you being such a good girl” he said, kissing the top of your forehead as he began to slowly scissor the fingers inside of you.
“Fuck” you moaned at the sensation of his fingers inside of you. He was awe at the sight of you, you were taking his fingers so well, moaning at the feeling of him hitting your g-spot with his fingers.
He knew you needed another source of stimulation, you needed to cum, and he wanted to make you. He slowly dragged his thumb against your clit, causing you to arch your back slightly, your head still pressed against the pillows.
“Good girl, there we go” he kissed your lips before slowly pulling his fingers out of you, licking them. You watched in awe as he pulled them out, “taste so sweet for me baby” he groaned at your taste.
“Now baby, are you sure that you want my cock? I’m fine with us stopping here, but I’m going to need a cold shower”
“I’m sure” you said more affirmatively, “I want you to fuck me”
He groaned at that, slowly getting off the bed to get a condom. “Stop where are you going?” you asked a bit confused. “I’m just getting a condom baby, calm down”
“Please don’t” you whined, you wanted to feel him fully your first time, not wanting anything in the way. “Baby, are you sure? I know you are on birth control, but I want to make sure you are comfortable, we can use a condom”
“No Channie, wanna feel you fully, wanna feel all of you” you whined, grabbing his hand and pulling him back to your bed.
“Fuck” he whisperedd to himself as he pulled his shorts down his legs, throwing them god knows where, the same with his shirt. He couldn’t believe he was going to fuck your pretty little pussy, not to mention raw.
“Wanna help” you whimpered, supporting yourself on your elbows as you took his cock in your hands, a bit perplexed on how warm it was, but you ran your hand up and down it. You noticed how Chan threw his head back, a moan leaving his lips along with your name.
“Fuck sweetheart, if you keep going like that, I’m going to cum”
“What if that’s what I want you to do?” you giggled, watching his pupils dilate under the purple hue. “Baby, you should be glad it’s your first time, or else I would have fucked you for acting like a brat”
You hummed at his tone as he took his cock back in his hands. “You sure baby?” he asked one more time, waiting for you to say yes. As soon as you did, he ran the tip of his cock along your wet slit, causing the two of you to groan simultaneously.
“I’m gonna put it in now”
“Please do Channie”
He slowly started off with just the tip of his cock inside of you, your walls hugging him in so tight that he slowly began to push more inside of you.
It didn’t feel uncomfortable, just a bit foreign. You had never had anything as big as Chan inside of you before, so it was a new experience, but something you could see yourself getting used to and loving.
Chan could see you in your own head so he slowed down. “Is it too much baby, I can slow down”
“No, please don’t, feels so good” you whimpered as he slowly continued his almost snail like pace, pushing his cock inside of you. Chan knew he was big and didn’t want to hurt you to chase his own high. He wanted to make sure it was perfect for you, even if he had to go at such a slow pace.
It took a couple minutes for him to fully situate himself into your cunt, the tip so far deep that he could see your face contort in pleasure.
He let himself stay there, too scared to move, that was until you whined underneath him, begging to feel him move his big cock. “Fuck baby, you don’t know what you do to me” he whined as he slowly took his cock out of you before thrusting it inside of you.
He felt so good inside of you, but you needed more, needed him to go faster. “Please Chris, need more please go faster”
How could he disagree when you looked up at him with your watery doe eyes.
He began to thrust into you faster, causing you to whimper, his cock feeling hot inside of you, hitting your cervix with every thrust. “Fuck baby, this pussy is so tight, can’t wait to fuck it all the time”
“Yes Channie, want you to fuck me whenever you want. Feels so good, so fucking good”
“Yeah baby, you loving my cock inside of you, want me to cum inside too?”
“Yes please please please” you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his torso, causing him to quicken his pace as he placed one hand over your clit, rubbing it in tandem to his thrusts.
“Yeah baby, fuck, can feel you clenching around my cock. I know you are close, why don’t you come for me baby, please cum for me” he whined, kissing your neck, leaving marks all over it. He needed to feel you cum on his cock, needed to make you feel good.
“Fuck Channie, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum” your walls clenched around him as a white ring was visible around the base of his cock, causing you to moan at the sight.
“Fuck gonna cum, are you gonna let me cum in this perfect little cunt of yours?”
“Yes, please cum in me” you whimpered, your entire body feeling overstimulated at his cock continuing to plow inside of you, him chasing his own high.
With a few more thrusts, he came inside, his head tossed back, allowing you to see his adam’s apple bobbing at the feeling of your cunt sucking in his cum.
He slowly pulled out, watching his cum and your own mix, slowly falling out of you.
“Wait here baby, let me clean you up” he quickly pecked your lips before running to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth, running it down your legs before handing you a glass of water from his side table.
“Let’s go to the bathroom, I already started a bathe for you” he kissed your lips after seeing your tired nod, picking you up bridal style before placing you into his bath tub, him entering right behind you, allowing you to rest your back on his chest.
“How was it baby?” he asked, kissing your shoulder before hugging you.
“Amazing Channie” you giggled before slowly closing your eyes, surrounding yourself with him.
#ju <3 answers#ju <3 writes#stray kids#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids x reader#straykids#stray kids smut#skz bang chan#skz smut#straykids smut#straykids x reader#bangchan x reader#bang chan x reader#bang chan smut#bangchan smut
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Insatiable (Part 2)
Part 1
Summary: Your collages should have listened to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Huge shout out to @chanif-art who's artwork continues to inspire me and this story. I am completely blown away with how well part 1 was received. Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented and even simply read it. I didn't do a tag list for this one because I think well over 50 people asked and I completely lost track. Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations!
I was listening to Little Girl Gone while writing this... for some reason it just fits plagas!Leon.
“Honey, I’ve changed so much since I last saw ya.”
You open your eyes, finding yourself inside Leon’s cell. You dart your head around, looking frantically when you realize you’re chained to the chair, the same chair Leon had previously been chained to. You hear Leon chuckle, a low chilling sound as he walks up from behind you, taking long, slow strides. He turns to face you, you notice the black veins sprawling his body have gotten darker, his eyes more red. He grins as he kneels down to be at eye level with you, his four canine teeth noticeably sharp. He runs his tongue along his teeth.
“There you are, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Leon says with a purr.
Your eyes are wide, taking labored deep breaths before you attempt to struggle. Leon laughs, shaking his head.
“That won’t do you any good I’m afraid, but don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those chains so we can have some play time.”
Leon stands back up, walking back behind you. You hear him break the chains apart with his bare hands. You waste no time bolting out of the chair and to the door. No matter how much you pull, the door won’t budge. You turn around to find Leon standing directly behind you. He grabs you by the waist pulling you to him. You flail your arms at him, trying to fight him off. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bryan on the other side of the clear panel holding a clipboard, taking notes.
“Bryan?! Get me out of here! I’m trapped in here with him, please! He’s going to hurt me!”
Bryan lifts his head, shaking it, “the data you’ll provide from this is too valuable to pass up I’m afraid. We need to know if he’s capable of procreating with a un-infected human and what the offspring will look like.”
“WHAT?!” you scream, “Bryan have you lost your mind?!”
Completely ignoring your pleas, Bryan continues, “remember what we agreed on, Leon. You are not to infect her with the plaga until she gives birth. After that, you can do with her as you please.”
“I remember the agreement, you fucking prick,” Leon growls next to your ear before he licks your earlobe.
“NO I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS BRYAN, YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” you continue to scream as you try to fight Leon off.
Leon, however, is much more powerful than you; he bites into your shoulder and makes short work of pinning you to the floor, his hands gripping your jeans and ripping them off you, leaving you with your pair of lace panties. You attempt to crawl across the floor towards Bryan, but Leon drags you back by your hips. Leon flips you over to face him, caging you with his body. He simply stares down at you, his smile wide. You watch as drool drips from his face onto your shirt, which he promptly rips apart to reveal your matching bra to him.
“Aren’t you just delicious to look at?” Leon says, licking his lips before locking his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss.
To your horror, you’re returning his kiss, his hands grasping to both of your breasts. He pulls away after a couple minutes, sitting on his haunches as he pushes your legs apart, noting the dark spot that is now on your panties.
“Oh? You don’t want this? Then tell me why you’re so fucking wet, sweetheart?”
Leaning forward, he grabs your panties with his teeth, dragging them off you before tossing them aside. He then begins undoing the belt on his pants; before long he is pulling his hardening cock from his pants. He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, pushing himself inside you balls deep with ease.
When the head of his cock kisses your cervix, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan. Leon growls, thrusting into you with an insatiable ferocity, causing you to grip his arms, scratching into them with your nails. You felt like he was fucking you for an eternity when he let’s out another growl, pressing into you as deep as he could possibly go. You feel your cunt clamp around his cock, milking his cum into your body.
Leon stares back down at you, his eyes and grin wide as he laughs maniacally.
You wake up screaming, covered in sweat and tears streaming down your face. You take deep breaths, laying your hand on your chest to ground yourself.
It was just a nightmare.
Once you get yourself calm, you climb out of bed and go into the kitchen of your apartment, making yourself coffee and some toast for breakfast. Afterwards, you get ready for work and head out the door. On your way, you decide to stop at the pharmacy. Walking the aisles, you find the feminine hygiene products, grabbing an ovulation test off the shelf and paying for it. Once you get to HQ, you trap yourself into one of the bathroom stalls, taking the test and waiting for the results. You watch in horror as a little smiley face shows up on the little screen, confirming your hypothesis.
You collect yourself before briskly walking into Bryan’s office. You don’t knock, you simply push the door open aggressively, startling both Bryan and the researcher he’s meeting with, you think his name is Pierce.
“I am not going back down there, Bryan,” you say sternly.
Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing up to leave, “I’ll go check on the camera feed downstairs.”
You and Bryan stare at each other as the door swings shut. Bryan rubs his eyes.
“Not this again, I’m sorry but I need you to go down there, you’re still the only one Leon talks to. Is this about what happened yesterday? I assure you, we have taken extra precautions to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”
You stomp up to Bryan’s desk, slamming the positive ovulation test onto the desk. Bryan looks down at the test before looking at you and raising an eyebrow.
“The fuck is this?” he asks.
“I’m ovulating, this is why Leon keeps saying I smell good and wants to practically throw himself on me whenever I’m down there.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Can you think of a logical explanation, then? I’m all ears.”
“This is not up for debate, you are going to continue working with Leon; that’s an order!”
Suddenly, the lights go dim before red emergency lights come on followed by a loud, screeching alarm.
“What the hell?!” Bryan exclaims, looking around confused.
You’ve never heard this alarm during your entire time at D.S.O., you rack your brain around what it could mean when suddenly, Pierce bursts into the office.
“Pierce! What the hell is going on out there?!” Bryan asks.
“Kennedy’s escaped, sir!”
Leon opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around his cell. Deep down he was seething in rage; he had gotten so close to getting out of this chair and having his way with you. Now, his chair had reinforced steel plating welded to it and they strapped a god damn muzzle onto his face. He could see he now had two men with guns guarding the door at all times.
Fucking beautiful.
He tested the chains again, but found they had been tightened recently, angering him even more. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and hoped he would see you today. He hated the thought of you seeing him like this, but he desperately wanted to see you and inhale your sweet, sweet scent.
Out of nowhere, an excruciating pain jolts down Leon’s spine, causing him to cry out and writhe in his chair. His four canine teeth grow sharper, his fingers turning black and now taking on a claw-like appearance and a new, sharp appendage was peaking out of his lower back. The guards turned around to look at Leon. They immediately unlock the door and come into this cell to check on him. Leon stops writhing, slumping over in his chair, pretending to be passed out. One guard stays by the door, facing away from them while the other comes over to check on Leon, checking the chains to make sure they’re in place.
Unbeknownst to the guard closest to Leon, Leon’s new tail was extending from his back, coming around from behind the guard. It was very similar to a scorpion’s tail, but instead of a barb on the end, it looked like a blade. Within an instant, Leon’s tail wraps around the guard’s neck, snapping it instantly as four claw-like appendages burst from Leon’s back, breaking the chains holding his arms in place. Hearing the other guard fall to the floor the other guard turns around only to be faced with Leon, who is now up out of his chair and walking towards him, ripping the muzzle off his face, flashing a maniacal grin at the guard. The guard goes to shoot Leon but Leon is much faster, his tail whipping forward and impaling the man in the chest before flinging him aside.
Leon strides out of his cell, looking down the hallway to see a pair of researchers coming down the hallway. Upon seeing Leon out of his cell, they start shouting at each other and turn to run in the opposite direction. Leon smiles, breaking into a sprint. He leaps, pinning one researcher to the ground with his body while his tail grabs the other by the waist, lifting him into the air.
“Where is she?!” Leon asks with a growl to the researcher he has pinned to the floor.
“Where’s who?!” the researcher stutters.
“Don’t play dumb with me! Where is she?!”
“Up-Upstairs! In Br-Bryan’s office!”
Leon’s mouth clamps down onto the researcher's neck, ripping out his throat as his tail squeezes the other until his spine snaps, falling to the floor as Leon lets him go. At that moment, all the lights dim before red emergency lights come on. Leon breaks back into a sprint to the elevator however, it was not working no matter how many buttons he pushed. He uses his tale to rip a hole into the ceiling, leaping up into it and climbing the elevator shaft.
Once he reaches the top, he pries the elevator door open, swinging down, landing gracefully in the hallway. People are scrambling to get away from him, bumping and tripping over each other to run down the hallway. Leon’s red eyes scan the area, however, he sees no sign of you. More guards with guns show up, firing at him. His tale whips forward, deflecting their bullets with ease as he lunges forward. He impales one operative with his tail while his hand thrusts through the chest of another, gripping the man’s still beating heart in his claws before crushing it.
“Take her and get out of here!” he hears a man yell from down the hallway.
Leon’s attention is immediately drawn to the man that yelled, immediately recognizing him as Bryan. At one time, he liked the man, a brilliant scientist. Too bad he has to die. Leon watches as Bryan pulls out a pistol, firing shots at him. Again. Leon’s tail and back claws deflect the shots as he stands face to face with Bryan, his tail whipping around and decapitating the man with ease. He brings his tail’s blade to his lips, licking off the blood as he proceeds to walk down the hallway towards the entrance of HQ.
A researcher is leading you out the front door, shoving you through the door with his back turned to Leon. He’s about to head out himself before Leon’s tail goes straight through his chest. Leon hears the man’s death gurgles as he flings him behind him, his body falling about 20 feet away with a loud thud.
And there you are, cowering in the entry vestibule, your eyes locked on him, looking up and down his body. Leon straightens out his posture in hopes of making himself alluring to you, his tail whipping back and forth while his back claws flex.
“Do you actually think you can escape me?” Leon coos, watching as you press your back as hard as you can into the glass doors as he comes closer.
“You never will, my love.” he continues with a grin, licking his sharp canines.
You stumble out of the door, bolting into the street and running as fast as you can to your car.
“I will find you.”
Part 3
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#yandere!leon kennedy#plagas!leon kennedy#plagas!leon kennedy x reader#gigabyte writes#insatiable
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illicit affairs | joel & tommy miller
Summary | Two attempts are always better than one, right? If you're serious about getting pregnant then you can't just hope that Joel can manage to do it by trying once every month. It might be wrong, but seeing him camped out on the couch gives you the perfect excuse to try one more time this month, without distractions.
Warnings | Joel Miller being a fucking stud as always, breeding kink, size kink, dubious moral choices by both reader and Joel, Tommy getting cucked (as usual), dirty talk, unprotected PiV sex,
Word Count | 2.7k
Authors Note | Well..... this certainly isn't how I anticipated this series going, but it makes sense, right? Can't just fuck once a month and expect to make a baby. I am absolutely feral for how much you guys are enjoying this series that wasn't meant to be a series and I hope you continue to do so in the future. And also, don't worry, Tommy is back next time in full force, I promise! If you've not read parts one and two, you can find them linked below on the series masterlist - this probably won't make much sense otherwise.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
When Joel wakes the next morning, crick in his neck and lower back screaming at him for a night scrunched up on his brother’s couch, it’s the smell of bacon and the sizzling sound of something cooking in oil that hits him first. He pushes himself up slowly, running a hand over his face before his eyes search for the wall clock. It’s just after seven, he doesn’t have to pick Sarah up for another few hours.
The next thing that strikes him is your voice. It’s quiet, like you’re trying not to wake him up, but you’re singing, or rather humming along to some song on the radio. He doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t care to find out, he just sits and listens for a while, letting the sweet sound almost lull him back to sleep.
When Joel hears the clatter of plates being moved around, he stands, stretching out his back until it cracks in several places. God, he’s getting old. He slowly and softly makes his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watches you. You’re moving scrambled eggs around in the pan on the hob, two plates on the side that already have slices of bacon on them, and he can see slices of bread sat in the toaster waiting to be made. It’s domestic and he realizes he really shouldn’t like seeing it as much as he does. He shouldn’t be here, this should be his brother, but he doesn’t exactly hate it.
“You didn’t have t’make me breakfast.” He speaks, you don’t jump which makes him think you knew he was there all along.
“You didn’t have to sleep on the couch all night,” You counter, looking at him over your shoulder, “I guess we wore each other out, only right I send you off with a hearty breakfast.”
Joel doesn’t really know what he’s doing when he walks deeper into the kitchen. He’s driven by the fact that all you’re wearing is a large flannel shirt, obviously not one of your own, buttoned up over some underwear. You’re fucking magnetic to him, he knows you shouldn’t be, should be as far out of his reach as possible, but he’s only doing you a favour right? The more he repeats it to himself, the more he might believe it.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You speak as his hands play with them hem of the shirt, although your voice is teasing, it doesn’t warn him to stop, almost dares him to go further.
Joel hears you chuckle as his hands palm your ass, “You gonna tell me to stop, pretty girl?”
“You’re trying to get me pregnant, are you not?” You ask, shifting the pan with the eggs off the heat.
“That I am,” Joel is now pressed firmly against your back, hands wandering underneath the shirt to rest on your hips, “But you gotta tell me if you want me to stop, just me and you this mornin’, sweetheart.”
“I’m still good to go,” You murmur, moving your ass into him, feeling his already growing erection in his jeans, “So, give me what I want, stud.”
He doesn’t need telling twice. Never does. He lets his big palm sink beneath the waistband of your underwear, fingers dipping almost immediately through your folds to sink down to where you’re already soaked. He knows some of that has to be him from last night, but as he drags his fingers up, covered in slick to your clit, hearing how you’re already moaning his name, he knows it’s not all him, this is your slick, mixed with him, and it drives him wild. Drives him wild that he’s marked you like this, that you’re just walking around with a piece of him inside of you.
He's almost shocked by how quickly he brings you to the edge with his fingers this morning. Clearly, you’re still sensitive from the four orgasms he gave you the night before, something that still makes his chest puff, his male ego boosted that he went one better than Tommy for you.
“Still all sensitive for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” He leans down to whisper into your ear as his name falls a mile a minute from your mouth, “Gonna come for me?”
“Fuck – Joel – ohmygod,” He can feel your legs starting to shake, he makes sure the arm he’s got pressed to your lower belly keeps you upright, pressed against him, “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Didn’t plan on it.” He chuckles, letting his tongue lick hot stripes to you ear before he sucks the lobe into his mouth and nibbles.
He feels your legs buckle, but that palm manages to keep you upright as you come for him. The way his name sounds in your high-pitched squeal when you let go for him has his cock throbbing in his jeans. If he was any younger, he could almost guarantee this alone would have him spilling himself into his jeans already.
He lets you catch your breath for a moment as he undoes his jeans, stepping out of them and his underwear, though he leaves his shirt on. He has to be inside you right now or he thinks he might pass out. He drags your own underwear down your legs, kicking them to the side once you’ve stepped out of them, before he’s literally slamming his cock into you with full force.
“Jesus Christ, Joel,” You keen, “Fuck, you’re so big inside me.”
“I know babygirl, I know,” He stills for a moment, letting himself get used to the way your pussy is clenching him, literally pulling him in deeper, “A lot, ain’t it?”
You let out a sigh as Joel pulls himself out before slamming back into you, “I can take it,” You whine, pushing back to meet his thrusts halfway, “Fuck me harder, Joel.”
He brings a hand up to fist your hair, pulling your head back so you’re arching into him, “Careful what you wish for,” He moans, “Beggin’ me to go harder, filthy girl.”
Joel can’t quite believe how good this feels. He thought, when he slid his cock into you from behind that he might feel guilty – bending his brother’s girlfriend over the stove without him knowing anything about it – but the way he’s got his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you back so you arch perfectly for him, his hips snapping into your ass in a way that has his vision blurring, he can’t find it in himself to care. Maybe that makes him a piece of shit, but you asked for this just as much as he wanted to give it to you.
He uses the hand tight in the strands of your hair to pull your face to the side. He presses a wet kiss to your cheek before he can’t stop himself from asking for it any longer, “Kiss me, pretty girl,” He growls, pulling your mouth to within a hair’s breadth of his own, “Give me that last piece of you, I know you want to.”
He can see you hesitate. Can sense the flicker of doubt across your face. He won’t force this, but fucking hell does he want it. Wants to feel those pretty lips on his own, wants to know exactly what your mouth tastes like. He grips your hip with his free hand, fingers digging into the skin, sure enough likely to leave bruises there, as he continues his pounding into you.
All of a sudden, you turn your head fully, your own free hand coming up to tangle in the curls on his head pulling his mouth to yours. The angle makes it messy, more of an open-mouthed mash up of tongues that anything else, but it fucking lights Joel on fire. He pulls away and slips his cock from your tight heat, turning you around so your back is to the stove. He pulls your naked body to his own and attaches his mouth back to yours like his life depended on it.
He can feel his cock slipping between your slick folds as he focuses his attention on his mouth attached to yours. It’s depraved, the way his tongue melds with your own, licking into your mouth like he’s a man starved. Which he technically is, he can’t remember the last time he kissed a woman, let alone one as perfect as you.
When he pulls away from you, hands on your ass to lift you up so he can carry you to the kitchen island and sit you on top, he focuses on the string of saliva that attaches your mouth to his. He pulls away just enough that it breaks, settling on the hair on his chin. He almost busts his nut all over your lower belly when you lean across and lick it from his face, grin plastered on your mouth like you know exactly what you’ve just done to him.
You reach down between the two of you, gripping Joel’s cock in your hand, guiding it back to your spread cunt, “I think you better put this back inside me, huh?” You whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “Think you might be about to come, am I right Joel?”
“Fuckin’ hell,” He curses, head to the ceiling, “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pretty girl,” He takes his cock from your grip, sliding it slowly back into your slick pussy, watching as you throw your head back in pleasure as he does, “How many babies you want?” He asks, royally pushing his fucking luck now, “Tell me you want more than one, tell me I get to come inside your pretty pussy forever.”
“You’ll have to ask your brother.” You and your smart fucking mouth, Joel thinks, looking down between the two of you where he’s splitting you open, watching as his thick cock slides effortlessly into your cunt, like you were made for him.
“Didn’t have to ask him this morning,” Joel growls at you, hand resting at the base of your throat, “This was all you, babygirl.”
He doesn’t think before he takes hold of the material of the shirt you’re wearing and yanks it open, buttons flying all over the kitchen surface. Joel lets it gape open, those big hands of his gripping the soft skin of your waist as he starts pounding into you again. He leans down and captures one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, soothing it with the pad of his tongue, before he switches to the other side.
“Such pretty tits, baby,” He groans, moving his lips up to kiss across your neck, “Even prettier when I put this baby inside you.”
His cock is brutal inside you. He can see the start of the discomfort on your face, still sore and stretched from last night. Truth be told, he doesn’t think he can hold on much longer, not when he looks down at the sight of you, spread out, dripping slick onto the countertop, legs spread as far as humanely possible, tits bouncing with every hard punch of his cock inside you.
“Want me to fill you up, babygirl?” He asks, leaning down to capture your lips one last time, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get you alone again, he knows kissing you in front of his brother would probably get him shot, so he’s going to take it all whilst he can.
“Give it to me Joel, fuck,” You moan, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you upright, “Look at me whilst you do it,” You demands, “I wanna see your eyes when you pump me full of cum.”
You’re looking up at him, bottom lip bitten between teeth as he stuffs his cock into you twice, three times. He looks you dead in the eye as he lets your name drop from his lips, hand gripping so hard at your skin it’s painful. He does exactly what you say though, looks straight into your eyes as his cock fills your full of his cum. Dark and dangerous, like predator has caught its pray, spread it out underneath him and fully devoured it.
He lets out the softest of groans as he slips his cock from you, watching as his cum drips from your pussy. It’s depraved, but he takes two of his fingers and pushes as much of it as possible back inside you, curling his fingers up inside you, before he slips them out, covered in his own cum and the slick from your pussy.
He holds them up to your mouth, “You wanna taste, pretty girl?”
Joel swears he sees the devil when you take hold of his hand and drag that perfect little tongue over his fingers. He thinks he might feel his cock begin to harden again when you take them all the way into your mouth and swirl your tongue over them to get them clean, he’s only a man, he can’t help but imagine what that mouth might feel like wrapped around his cock.
He helps you down from the counter, passes you the underwear he discarded early and then slips out of his own plaid shirt, offering it to you for ruining the one you were currently wearing. You could very easily wander up the stairs and get another shirt, but you take it from him, wrap it around yourself and do up the buttons.
“Sit down,” You speak softly to him once he’s got his jeans on properly, “I’ll finish breakfast.”
Joel watches closely as you pour coffee and reheat the eggs slightly, piling a significantly bigger portion onto his plate than your own. You butter the toast and then sit down next to him, eating in silence. He expects it to be awkward, but it’s the complete opposite. It’s comfortable, warm even, just two people enjoying breakfast together before they must go back to their respective lives outside of each other.
When you’ve both finishes, you take the plates and stack the in the sink before Joel realizes he’s still got to pick Sarah up. You smile at him when he stands, going to unbutton his shirt to give it back to him when he puts a warm hand on your arm.
“Keep it,” He says softly, “Looks miles better on you than it does on me.”
Your head dips and then you smile, “Thank you.”
He doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for – the shirt? Probably not. But he smiles and kisses your cheek all the same before he’s making sure he’s got his keys and then he’s leaving.
All Joel can think about on his drive to pick Sarah up is the massive fucking line he’s just crossed. He can paint it in whatever light he wants to – normal couples fuck all the time, at every possible moment, when they’re trying to have a baby, so why should this be any different? That’s all it was, is what he repeats to himself, all fucking day, thinking of the way you begged him to fill you up again, the way your lips felt against his when you finally gave in and kissed him. But there’s still that fucking niggling feeling that he’s fucked it all up, mixed his own feelings in somewhere along the line. He should have never been with you without the knowing stare of his brother, looking out for any signs of concern.
If only Joel knew that Tommy knew exactly what was happening that morning. If only he knew that you’d padded quietly down the stairs and found him soundly asleep on that couch, first instinct to reach for your phone and sent Tommy that text message.
Joel seemed to stay the night on the couch. I know you’ll be driving, so totally get if not, but mind if we try again this morning? Might have a bit more luck relying on two instead of one this month.
You’d waited just moments for Tommy’s reply, standing at the foot of the stairs, watching Joel’s chest rise and fall in his sleep.
Course not sugar, you can tell me all about it when I get in and get you all to myself.
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller smut#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#The Last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou#tlou fic#tlou smut#tlou hbo#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Tommy Miller#Tommy Miller smut#Tommy Miller fic#Tommy Miller fanfic#Tommy Miller fanfiction#Tommy Miller x you#Tommy Miller x reader#Tommy Miller x female reader#Tommy Miller x f!reader#Pedro Pascal#Joel Miller Pedro Pascal
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hot for teacher
summary: you’re going on your first date with steve harrington, and hours before he’s due to pick you up your best friend gives you some rather unsavory information.
pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, dirty talk, (slight) rough sex
words: 13.6k
EDIT (09/24/2023): i am not a “no beta we die like men” person, but this?? she was not up to my standards. so i fixed her! enjoy ya horny bastards
"You know I heard Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"
This announcement from your best friend is enough to make you choke on the mouthful of sandwich you're chewing on and spew chunks of it all over the table.
You drop your food noisily back onto its plate and reach for your drink, struggling to breathe while there's still turkey and lettuce lodged in your esophagus. The diner's patrons ogle you as you attempt to collect yourself, some concerned, some plain annoyed.
"Christ, dude!" Kelsey laughs, leaning over the table and thumping you hard on your back. You wave her hand off and guide your straw into your mouth, desperately gulping down Coke with one hand pressed to your chest as if that’ll ensure the food doesn't take a wrong turn on the way down.
"You have to - fuck, dude - you have to give a girl some warning before you just say shit like that, Kels," you sputter. You wipe a hand across your damp eyes and take a couple of steadying breaths, and finally, the reality of what Kelsey just said hits you. You look up and blink away the tears to get a clear look at her.
"Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?" you ask quietly, not wanting to attract any more attention. Kelsey nods, a smug grin plastered across her face.
"Apparently, it's like a dog trying to drink water," she giggles. "Katie Kaspbrak went out with him last week, and she's been telling everyone how God-awful he is at head."
"Katie Kaspbrak? The same girl who swore half of the staff at school was in love with her?" You lean back against the cool vinyl of the booth and cough lightly, suddenly less interested in this gossip now that you've learned the source.
Katie Kaspbrak would lie about what she had for breakfast if she thought it would make her seem more interesting. Actually, now that you think about it, she has done that.
"That's what I thought too," Kelsey continues, "until Belinda Carter and Donna Greene overheard her, and they said the same thing. Belinda said she was so shocked that she just faked it until he thought she came and then made an excuse to leave."
You pause. Katie Kaspbrak is one thing, but two other girls? That can’t all be a coincidence.
But… it's Steve Harrington. Every girl - and some of the boys - you've ever spoken to have the hots for him, whether they want to admit it or not, and how could he be so sought after if he gives such a piss-poor performance at something so fundamental? You pick at an errant lettuce leaf that juts out from the edge of your disheveled sandwich, pretending to find it fascinating so you don't have to look at Kelsey's elated expression anymore.
"Why are you waiting until now to tell me this?" you ask. Kelsey leans back in her seat and pops a french fry in her mouth, glancing at the dusty clock that hangs in the diner's lobby.
"Just wanted to give you something to look forward to before your date, Y/N," she says with barely contained glee. "I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow." You shoot her a dirty look.
"Who says we're even gonna go that far tonight?" you counter, but you both know you're full of shit. You look down and pick at the skin around your fingernails to avoid Kelsey's knowing gaze because if you meet it, she'll see the uncertainty written all over your face.
She loves messing with you like this; she's done it for almost every date you've ever gone on, regardless of who it's with. You pick up your sandwich and take a too-big bite to avoid having to talk anymore.
"Yeah, right. You've wanted to bang Steve since the moment you saw him, but you'll magically dry up the second you get the chance. Sounds legit."
You stick out your tongue, letting Kelsey get a nice view of the smushed-up chunks of meat and bread hanging off it, but it doesn’t deter her snickering.
Her smug declaration is all you can think of for the rest of the day. It's so distracting that, while getting ready, you accidentally kiss the burning hot barrel of your curling iron to your temple and put your shoes on the wrong feet twice.
Who says that you have to go down that path tonight, anyway? Who says Steve is even the kind of dude to want to fuck on the first date?
Well...everyone who attended Hawkins High says, actually. Son of a bitch.
Perhaps you could just go down on him and insist he doesn't have to return the favor; it's not like most of the guys you've been with haven't leaped at the opportunity to skip the preamble and shove their dick in something anyway. The only problem with that is…you really wanna fuck Steve Harrington.
Really, really badly.
And you want it to be as good as it possibly can be. You've wanted this for years, and now that you've both graduated, who knows how long Steve plans to stick around in Hawkins so you can have your chance?
The time Steve promised he'd pick you up rolls around quicker than you'd anticipated. In the mirror, you smooth down your skirt one final time and fluff up your curls.
Kelsey doesn't know what she's talking about, you decide. Who were you to listen to gossip spread around by Katie Kaspbrak anyway? You practice smiling brightly in the mirror and notice a smear of lipstick across your front teeth. You lick at the stain and then rub it away with your index finger.
It would be fine.
Everything would be fine…right?
A car horn beeps twice before you can successfully reassure yourself.
He's here.
Oh, God.
You fly down the stairs two at a time, briefly worrying about how humiliating it would be to crack your head open before your date and snatch your purse off the kitchen table as you say goodbye to your mother. She reminds you of your curfew, and you give a vague acknowledgment as you pull the front door shut behind you.
In the faint evening light, Steve's maroon BMW is almost black, glimmering in the sour yellow streetlight like the shell of a beetle. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you croak a "Hi!" around it. Steve Harrington climbs out of his car gracefully, and his easy smile, accompanied by the bouquet of flowers he has clutched in his hand, is enough to make your knees wobble a bit.
"You look really pretty," he says, eyes flickering up and down your body. You're grateful for the dim outdoor lighting as your face flushes scarlet.
"Thanks. Are those for me?" you ask, pointing at the bouquet. You wanna kick yourself as soon as you finish saying it. Of course, they're for you, you absolute buffoon. You’re on a date - who else would he be carrying flowers for?
Steve chuckles chuckles under his breath and extends them toward you.
"You said these were your favorite, right? I saw 'em while I was getting stuff for tonight, so…Yeah." You gingerly take the flowers from him and bury your nose in the petals, inhaling their fresh scent as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides, though his expression remains as casual as ever.
Is he…nervous?
He reaches in front of you as you walk up to the passenger side of the car and opens the door, bowing his head and gesturing for you to come inside exaggeratedly. You giggle and sink into the leather seats as he scurries around the car's hood. As he swings the door shut behind him and settles in behind the wheel, you silently draw a few steadying breaths.
The inside of his car smells distinctly of cologne and floral soap, so much so that you have to briefly wonder if he got his car detailed in anticipation of your date. His cologne is woody and sweet, not so strong that it stings behind your eyes, but you know the scent will stick to your clothes whether he lays a hand on you tonight or not. The thought makes your stomach flutter a little. As he revs the engine, you absently twirl the stem of a flower around your finger.
"By the way," he says as he pulls out of your driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. "If you hear something clunking around back there while we drive, that's just Lucille."
You cock an eyebrow. "Lucille?"
You swear you see the ghost of a knowing smile creep across his lips, but an evening shadow cuts across his face before you're entirely sure. "Just a safety measure, that's all."
~~~
The date is more perfect than you could have ever imagined it to be.
Steve takes you to a restaurant near the video store where he works, a little Italian place that's surprisingly upscale - at least, upscale for Hawkins. Your fingers don't get the opportunity to graze a door handle or the back of a chair the entire time, as he's always right behind you, reaching around your body to beat you to it.
His gaze never leaves your face when you talk, and he's so clearly hanging on every word you lose your train of thought a few times. It's jarring to have the guy you've been obsessed with for so long give you his undivided attention - in a good way, of course, but that doesn't stop the words from getting caught in your throat.
He’s so pretty it's hard to maintain a coherent thought; all you want to do is stare at him and memorize the details of his face. The way his hair gently curves over his forehead, and he pushes a hand through the soft fringe to get it out of his eyes; the way his eyes sparkle in the warm, low light of the restaurant, transfixed on you like you're the single most intriguing thing he's ever laid them on.
You're not even halfway through offering to pay for half of the meal when he informs you he slipped his card to the host before you were even sat, and it's already taken care of. You insist he at least let you cover dessert - a small square of tiramisu you both nibble at - but he waves you off.
"You can pay for the next date," he says coolly, smiling behind a sip of his drink. You pull the cloth napkin from your lap and pretend to dab food from your mouth so you can hide your giddy smile and blushing cheeks. Next date, huh?
After dinner, he drives you to the outskirts of Hawkins, parking in a clearing in the forest that overlooks the blinking lights of the small city below. You have a perfect view of the moon as it gleams in the sky, full and white, and the stars glitter against the black velvet of the night without all the light pollution.
You sit on the hood of his car, legs crossed under you, picking at a loose thread on the hem of your skirt as it pools in your lap. You tug a too-big jacket tighter around your shoulders, a gift plucked from his trunk once he saw you shiver from the autumnal air against your skin.
Steve is leaning back on his palms, head dropped between his shoulders as he stares at the sky. Goosebumps ripple across his skin, and every so often, his body twitches forward with a slight shiver, but he seems content enough in his short-sleeved shirt.
He catches you staring and chuckles when you avert your eyes and pretend to be fascinated by the paint on his car.
"Whatcha lookin' at?" he asks.
"A cute guy," you respond, your voice smaller than you intended. You clear your throat.
"That's so funny; I was just looking at a cute girl!" he exclaims, and you laugh. "Crazy how that works, huh?"
"Aren't you freezing?" you ask. Steve shrugs.
"I'm alright. It's refreshing. Keeps me awake," he murmurs.
A few minutes of silence pass comfortably. You listen to the sounds of the forest around you, only slightly concerned when you hear a twig snap in the distance or something rustle in the foliage beyond the car. But Steve's lack of interest in either puts you at ease. After a while, he points at a random spot in the sky and announces, "Found it!"
"Found what?"
"My friend Dustin - total nerd, by the way - was talking my ear off yesterday about constellations, like, how to find them and shit, and I found one!"
He gestures for you to scoot closer without taking his eyes off his discovery, apparently not wanting to lose his spot. You do so, body hovering close enough to his that you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin, and his cologne wafts pleasantly back up into your nose. You follow the direction his finger is pointing in, scanning the inky blackness of the sky.
"Do you see it?" he asks excitedly.
"Did your nerdy friend happen to tell you what this constellation was called?"
"Uh. Ursula…something…I think. He said it was "the littler one" of the two."
"Ursa minor?" you posit. Steve snaps his fingers and points at you affirmatively.
"There you go! Do you see it?"
You shake your head. The name is familiar, but you don't remember what it's supposed to look like. You mostly slept through your astronomy class in high school.
Suddenly, an arm drapes itself around your shoulders and pulls you in, and warm fingers caress the sides of your jaw, tilting your face further upwards. Apparently, Steve has decided that the best way to help you see what he sees is by manually guiding you in the proper direction, so he's pressed your bodies together and is trying to angle your head in just the right spot.
Your stomach flips, and your heart jumps into your throat. This time, you're worried you'll choke on it. You're sure Steve can feel the blush in your cheeks burning beneath his fingertips, but he's either too engrossed in Ursa Minor to care or is choosing not to mention it.
"Right…there. See?" Steve says, voice notably lower than before and now right against the shell of your ear. A shiver walks its fingers down your spine.
“O-Oh, yeah,” you stammer. You do see it, a tail of shimmering dots curling into a small rectangle of stars, but you're more focused on Steve's mouth right out of the corner of your eye, his lips parted and quirked up into a smile. His hair brushes against your cheek as he turns his head toward you, and his index finger presses itself against the curve of your jaw to encourage you to look at him.
His eyes shine in the moonlight, dark and kind, as they flit over the details of your face, lingering the longest on your lips. He's warm and solid against you, and you tentatively place your fidgety hand on his knee.
He's so beautiful, you think to yourself. It isn't a word you've ever used for the other men you've dated, but it fits Steve well. A square jaw still soft at the edges with youth, wide brown eyes framed by lashes so thick and long that they fan across his cheekbones when he blinks, full pink lips barely parted and pursed like he has something to say. Beautiful.
Steve’s finger slides down the edge of your face until it reaches your chin, pinching it between bent thumb and forefinger. He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath wash over your lips.
You, on the other hand, forget how to breathe entirely.
He hesitates, and you feel a tug in your stomach as the thought of him pulling away from you occurs. Does your breath offend? You did eat a lot of garlic bread at the restaurant. Maybe you should've packed gum in your purse -
"Is this okay?" he murmurs. You blink, a little caught off guard by the question.
“Huh?” Very astute.
“This,” he says, and his thumb presses itself briefly in the center of your bottom lip as if to punctuate what he means. “I mean…can I kiss you?”
You swallow hard to avoid swooning at the question and clear your throat. "Yes. Yes, please kiss me."
He barely even has to move to capture your lips, so softly at first, like he’s afraid you’ll suddenly change your mind if he applies more pressure. Electricity thrums beneath your skin, zapping every nerve you have until your entire body is lit up with excitement. Your free hand trembles as you rest it against his chest. His heart thumps wildly beneath your palm, indicating that Steve Harrington is just as nervous as you are right now. This helps you to relax a bit, strangely.
Steve's arm slides down from your shoulders to wrap around your waist and pulls you firmly against him. He smiles against your mouth as a contented sigh escapes you and pulls away just enough to mumble, "Still okay?"
You bunch up the fabric of his shirt in your fingers and bring your lips back together, kissing him with more fervor. He hums against your mouth, satisfied with his answer, and his smile grows almost imperceptibly.
When he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, you gasp, and his hand slips up to the nape of your neck and buries itself in your hair. He doesn't pull, just holds you firmly in place, and though the act is relatively small, its possessive nature makes you unconsciously sink into his touch. Your mind races with thoughts of what it would feel like if Steve did pull, just a little - how your neck would bend forward, how your eyes would be forced skyward, and how you'd have no choice but to arch toward him as he kept you where he wanted you.
He keeps you still as he pulls away, chuckling at the little mewl that falls out of your mouth at the lack of contact. He soothes you with kisses peppered down the expanse of your neck, pausing only to nip and lick at random spots of flesh. You moan breathily into his hair as he sucks on a patch of skin just above the neckline of your shirt, and your hand creeps even further up his thigh.
"If you give me a hickey…my mom will kill me," you breathe, and Steve snickers against your neck.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks. The thought is enough to make your stomach sink with dread. You shake your head ardently. He grazes his teeth against your throat, his satisfied grin tangible against your buzzing skin.
"I didn’t think so."
He makes his way back up to your lips after sucking another hickey into your flesh, this time thankfully below where your clothing can cover, and doesn't waste a second slipping his tongue into your mouth.
You swear you'll turn to liquid any second now and slip straight through Steve's fingers. Steve tastes faintly of tiramisu still, and you eagerly chase after the taste, your tongues sliding against each other. The hand in your hair glides down your spine and pauses above your ass. His fingers twitch hesitantly against the hem of his jacket, hiking it up only to smooth it back down several times. He waits for you to move to give him some indication that you want to go further.
So, you oblige him.
You pull away, a thin line of saliva connecting your lips. It's Steve's turn to whine at the empty space where your mouth used to be, and it's a sound that resonates right into the fingers still curled against his chest. It makes a feral heat stir in your belly, and you make a brief mental note to find what else elicits that noise from Steve Harrington's lips later.
You decide if there was any moment in your life to be bold - it's right now. You use the hand on his chest to nudge him up the hood of the car so his back is flush with the windshield, and before he can question what you're doing, you swing one leg over his lap and sit, straddling him.
He takes a surprised breath and smiles at you, the moonlight making his eyes shimmer like liquid bronze. You kiss him again, and he boldly reaches down and grabs two generous handfuls of your ass. With a groan, you roll your hips back into him, urging him to grab more, grab harder.
Your hands grip either side of his slim waist and dip below the edge of his shirt. His skin is so warm compared to the chill of the evening, and you find yourself wanting to do anything to obtain more of his heat.
"Do you…wanna head inside the car?" he asks breathlessly, kissing the corners of your lips and down your jaw. "It's a lot more comfortable."
"I'm pretty comfortable right here," you say, and Steve laughs. He sits up straight and slots his hands under your knees, pulling you forward and down so you sit directly on his crotch. Despite the multiple layers of clothing between you both, you definitely feel something hard nudging at your inner thigh, and you let out a noise that's half surprise, half arousal.
"He's getting a bit restless if you catch my drift," Steve drawls, capturing your chin between his thumb and forefinger again. Your eyes flicker downward as if you’d be able to see with your legs and his jeans in the way. God, you want to see it, though, need to see it.
"'Course, if you're uncomfortable, we don't have to,” he says quietly, earnestly. “It’s up to you, Y/N.”
Your answer is to grind down on his dick hard enough that he pushes air out through his gritted teeth and grips your ass tighter. "Like I said," you purr against the shell of his ear, "I'm plenty comfortable."
Though Steve helps you back onto solid ground gingerly, there's a tautness to his muscles, a stiffness in how he moves that belies how desperate he is to get you into the car. He tries to adjust the front of his jeans casually, and you pretend to be staring into the treeline when he glances in your direction.
You cock your head a bit in confusion when you notice him pull something long and thin out from below the backseat. It appears wooden, and the flared nub at the bottom is familiar enough that you realize it's probably a baseball bat. However, the top of the bat is oddly lumpy and seems to be covered in something spiky; you can't tell for sure what that could be because it's wrapped tightly in a tattered blue towel.
He pops the trunk and throws it inside, acknowledging your puzzled expression after slamming it shut with a calm smile. "Lucille," he says simply. You decide you'll ask about it later. If you remember.
What you do remember, as soon as your back is nestled against the interior car door and Steve slots himself between your thighs, fingertips pushing the fabric of your skirt further up around your hips, is the conversation you had with Kesley.
"You know Steve Harrington can't eat pussy?"
You try to push the thought from your head by carding your fingers through Steve's hair, marveling at how soft it is while he plants kisses along your inner thighs. His lips brush across the intersection of your hip and thigh so gently that it makes you squirm a bit. Steve, despite your efforts, takes notice.
"Ticklish?"
"Uh. No?"
It's a lie. A bad one.
Steve smirks up at you and pushes your skirt past your pelvis, over your panties. Before you can stop him, his mouth is latched down over the sensitive juncture of your thigh, and you squeal in protest. Your breathless laughter and pleas for him to stop go unheeded, and he pins your writhing hips to the leather of the backseat so he can continue sucking a bright red hickey into your skin. Seemingly satisfied, he pulls off with a pop and strokes a finger over his handiwork. You bump his head with your knee, a halfhearted attempt to get him to stop prodding.
"Cute panties," he says lowly, and his finger follows the thick tendon that runs from your inner thigh to the edge of the cotton fabric. He drags the tip of it just underneath the seam of the gusset, pulling it far enough from your skin that it snaps back and makes you flinch. You remember agonizing over which pair to wear while you dressed - everything was too itchy, tight, plain, or extravagant for a first date. You only settled on the blush pink pair currently hugging your hips because they were the least offensive thing you could find.
You swallow hard, your hands fidgeting from their place atop your chest, and reflexively try to shut your legs. You're suddenly painfully aware of Steve staring at you, your most intimate part. A thin scrap of cloth is the only thing that separates your pussy from Steve Harrington's eyes, and while it's not like no one has ever seen you in states very similar to this, this time is…different.
The butterflies in your stomach are hammering against your ribcage and fluttering into your lungs, threatening to cut off your air supply entirely. You're sure you're going to suffocate before he can make any further moves, and you're gonna pass out right in the back of Steve Harrington's car before he's even really done anything -
“Y/N?”
Steve's warm hand squeezing your hip pulls you from your thoughts. You pull the pooled fabric of your skirt up against your stomach so you can look at his face. His expression is hued with concern.
"Hm?"
"Are you okay?" His thumb rubs in small, soft circles above the purpling hickey on your thigh.
"Yeah! I'm totally fine, I just…sorry, I kinda got lost in thought."
"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to, yanno, if you're feelin'...like, weird about any of this."
You shake your head and smile, brushing a lock of hair off his forehead. "I'm absolutely fine, Steve. I promise you. Did you say something before? I didn't hear you."
"I, uh…" He curls the tip of his finger beneath the gusset of your panties again, this time tugging experimentally. "Just wanted to know if I could take these off."
Your face is scorchingly hot, and if it weren't for the shadows cascading over the both of you, you’re sure Steve would laugh his ass off at the shade of red your cheeks have achieved. Any verbal response you might muster is lodged impossibly tight in your throat, so you just nod, let your legs fall further apart, and lift your hips off the seat so he can work your panties down your legs.
He does so with something akin to reverence, inching the fabric further and further off your body until his warm breath unfurls over your bare skin in deep, measured breaths. He carelessly tosses your panties somewhere in the front of his car, eyes transfixed on the spot between your legs. You're torn between wanting to yank your shirt collar over your eyes so you don't have to look at the deferent expression on his face, the damn near worshipful look in his dark eyes, and wanting to sit up to get an even better look at him.
"Wow… you're…fuck." Steve Harrington is at a loss for words because of you. You keep the glow of pride you feel at that fact to yourself…for now.
You pull your legs back toward your chest, hooking one hand under your knee ditch to hold it steady and give him a better look.
"Are you, uh…can I, like, eat you out?" he asks, and though part of you inwardly leaps for joy at the request, another part wants to suggest he do literally anything else.
You're being stupid, you chide yourself. Who gives a shit what Katie Kaspbrak or her stupid friends say? They're probably full of it anyway. Why are you entertaining the idea of telling Steve fucking Harrington he can't eat you out?
"Yes, please," you hear yourself breathe out despite your internal reservations. Steve smiles and raises a hand to replace the one keeping your leg pulled back. You take note of the way he licks his lips before he brings his mouth down against your pussy.
It's…well…it's interesting.
His tongue bypasses your clit completely and instead presses against your urethra, of all places. It isn't flat or relaxed; instead, a stiff pinpoint of muscle grinding uncomfortably into a spot that is decidedly not meant for that kind of stimuli. You shift, uneasy, but he seems to interpret it as a pleasured movement, which only spurs him on. He digs the tip of his tongue harder into your flesh, and you're grateful he can't see how your face is screwed up in distress.
Oh, God…oh, God. It really is awful. It's almost excruciating, and Katie Kaspbrak was fucking right. What do you do? What will he say if you tell him it's not good? Will he get embarrassed or hurt or even angry? Has anyone ever tried to tell him that this was wrong before?
You're conflicted and debating on just letting him finish up and possibly lying for the rest of time that Steve Harrington is a champion at eating pussy, until his tongue flicks upward and the unrelenting nub of his tongue stabs into your clit. You yelp involuntarily and yank your leg out of his hand, tightening your thighs. You press your fingers against your slit, hoping to soothe the throbbing ache Steve's harsh ministrations have brought on.
"What, what happened?" he asks, frantic, sitting up as much as he can in the confined space of the backseat.
He looks so much like a kicked puppy it's physically painful, maybe more painful than the burning sensation in your clit, and you consider for a moment just brushing it off as a leg cramp and letting him continue as if it's the best head in the world.
But you can't. You won't. If Steve doesn't know what he's doing wrong, he can't fix it, right? You just hope he's genuinely ignorant of how unrefined his skills are and not just overconfident and uncaring. The apologetic expression he's wearing is encouraging that it's the former.
"I…that hurt," you hiss between your teeth. "That hurt a lot."
"I'm so sorry," he says, reaching towards you instinctively, but then he seems to reconsider and takes his hands back. They rest atop his knees, clenching and unclenching, just like when he picked you up. "I…I thought that's what girls liked. I haven't…no one's told me any different, and I don't, like, have a bunch of practice - I mean, I've had practice, but no one's ever said anything before. I had no idea I was hurting you. I don't…I don't have to do that if you don't want it. I can do something else. I mean, Nance never really liked it when I did that either, so-"
He stops, eyes widening once it dawns on him what just came out of his mouth. Admittedly, you're a little shocked yourself. You attempt to keep your expression neutral to not make him feel worse, but you clearly fail because Steve cringes away when he catches a glimpse of your face.
"Shit…sorry. I shouldn't… it's not cool to bring up your ex on a first date. I know that. I'm sorry…Look, if you wanna go home, I get it. I kinda messed shit up, so I can-"
He's so fixated on his contrite ramblings that he doesn't notice when you sit up, nor when your hands cup either side of his face, and he only stops talking once you've pressed your lips against his, making it physically impossible. You feel the tension melt out of his body, and he tentatively grips your elbows.
"I'm fine," you start, leaning your forehead against his. His breaths escape in panicked, warm bursts against your lips. "I don't need to go home. I'm absolutely perfect here, with you. You didn't stab me with a burning hot poker or anything, so I'm doing pretty alright." The corners of his lips twitch upward in a sad suggestion of a smile. You should know better; you shouldn't ask about Nancy Wheeler even if Steve accidentally brought her up first, but you can't help the question that ripples from your lips.
"What do you mean, 'Nance never liked it?'" you ask carefully, and his muscles flex beneath your fingers. You're treading on thin ice. You rub your thumbs over his cheekbones, attempting to put him at ease and have his eyes meet yours.
"It's… it's stupid," Steve mutters, eyes downcast at his lap. "She…Nancy really, super hated it when I went down on her. I never thought about it too hard, I guess. I chalked it up to her being kinda uptight and just moved on, but now it makes way more sense. I suck. Of course, she hated it." He offers a dry, humorless sound you suppose is his attempt at a laugh.
"Did she ever, like…tell you what you were doing wrong?" you ask softly.
"Yeah…well, no, not exactly. I don't know. She'd usually just sit up and tell me she wanted to do something else, and when I asked what was up, she would just dance around the question, and we'd do something else and…I stopped trying after that. I should've asked questions."
"Well, you can ask them now. If you'd like."
Steve finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and his eyes are markedly brighter than before. "If it's not too astoundingly lame…yeah, that'd be great. What exactly hurt about it? Was I too rough?"
"Partially that, and partially how rigid your tongue was," you giggle. "It feels much better if you loosen up. Think more like licking a lollipop than Vlad the Impaler."
Steve laughs sincerely at that one, and his head tilts forward to rest on your shoulder. "Vlad the Impaler, huh? That's pretty bad."
"It is, but it's nothing you can't improve on. I'll even let you practice if you want." Steve sits straight, his once crestfallen expression replaced with wide, hopeful eyes and a hint of a genuine smile on his lips.
"Seriously?"
"Mm-hm. I'll guide you through it, like, uh...like a pussy-eating professor."
Steve snorts and kisses you briefly. His hands move to your hips in twitchy anticipation, unsure whether or not he should settle on your bare flesh or the hem of your skirt. It's almost like he suddenly doesn't know where to start. You decide for him; you lay your hands over his and guide them toward your body, bringing them up beneath your skirt and settling them on the bare skin of your hips.
"Give me a reason to tangle my fingers in that famous hair, pretty boy."
Without warning, you're pulled forward hard enough to fall unceremoniously onto your back, nearly thumping your head against the door handle. Steve almost concusses you in his excitement, but you can't bring yourself to care once you feel his breath washing over your exposed slit in warm, quick puffs. You sigh contentedly and thread your fingers through the hair at his temples.
"Loosen up, right?" he hums, and you make an affirmative noise high in your throat when you remember he can't see you nod.
"Start at the bottom," you say quickly, "and work your way up. Don't go straight for the clit, just-"
The sensation of Steve's hot, wet tongue licking a flat stripe up your cunt, slowly and carefully, makes your brain short-circuit. The instructions fizzle and die on your tongue, and you forget why you were speaking for a moment.
"Like that?"
"Huh? Yeah…yeah, like that. You don't have to just lick, either. You can like, um…suck on certain areas, like the lips and the - fucking shit -"
Steve is, apparently, a fast and very ambitious learner - before you can finish a complete sentence, he's applying your advice fucking beautifully. He licks another long, languid stripe up your pussy and sucks gently on your labia, tugging lightly with closed lips. Shifting his face upward, his nose grazes your clit, eliciting an unexpected moan. One hand flies above your head, fumbling for the handle on the car's roof for purchase, and you keep the other firmly planted in his hair.
"Still good?" His voice has an edge, much cockier now than it was just a few moments ago. He's so entertained by your reactions, and you don't know if it makes you mad, turns you on, or both. You decide that's not important because his mouth isn't on you anymore, and you can't stand for that.
"Fucking fantastic."
"Any more lessons to teach me?" he asks smugly. His hands are splayed across your inner thighs, spreading you open just slightly, and his thumbs are massaging your outer lips as he talks. His tone ignites something defiant within you. You push yourself up on your elbows and stare down at him evenly, meeting his eyes. His rediscovered confidence is undoubtedly hot, so hot you can feel your arousal starting to leak onto the upholstery beneath your ass, but it's in your nature to want to challenge him a little bit.
"Here's one," you rasp. You fist a hand into Steve's hair, gripping it tightly by the roots, and shove his face deeper into your cunt. You toss both legs over his shoulders and lock them at the ankles.
"Give that mouth something useful to do other than fuckin' talk."
You swear to everything holy, you hear Steve Harrington growl.
He dives into your pussy with renewed fervor, fingers still keeping you opened up for him, and laps at the rivulet of slick drooling out of your hole. Once the taste hits his tongue, he moans into you and pushes his face so deep you can feel the light stubble on his cheeks grazing your sensitive folds.
Your back arches, lifting you almost entirely off the seats, and you bite your lip to stifle the noises threatening to burst from your throat. It's not to spare whatever stranger may or may not be lurking in the bordering forest but because your moans sound downright embarrassing. His tongue burns a wet trail from your weeping hole to your clit, where it laps experimentally at the swollen bud.
You twist and shudder beneath him, your body operating without input from your brain, but the feeling of Steve's hands slamming your hips down into the seats snaps you back to attention. You lift your head from its position against the car door, struggling to focus your eyes. Steve has laid himself as flat as he can across what little space remains in the backseat. His arms coil tight around your thighs, which keep both legs hanging limply over his shoulders. He stares up at you through his thick lashes, eyes gleaming hungrily, while he licks and sucks your pussy like it's the last meal he'll ever eat. His ordinarily perfect hair is trashed, sticking to his damp forehead in dark clumps.
You gnaw on your bottom lip stubbornly, clinging to what little rebellion still smolders inside you. Steve laughs; the vibrations feel like heaven against you, and you fling your head back down.
It isn't until his mouth has formed a near-vacuum seal around your clit that you unabashedly squeal into the humid air, unable to contain yourself anymore, pleasure wracking your body in unrelenting waves. Steve doesn't let up, swirling his tongue while he sucks, somehow keeping you glued to the seats without much apparent effort. You knew he was strong; he was an athlete the entire time you were in high school, but you didn't imagine his slender frame belied this much strength. The ease with which he's made you almost immobile is unexpected and very, very sexy.
"S-Steve, Steve - fuck - okay, God, you're getting me close already," you wheeze, voice straining high and desperate in your throat. You don't usually get close this fast unless you're alone and rubbing out a quick orgasm before bed or out of boredom. Still, the combination of his greedy suckling and licking, the sheer amount of enthusiasm he's displaying toward pleasuring you, and the fact that this long-held fantasy is coming to life right before you are making you hurtle toward the edge.
You inhale sharply, your body tenses, you're so, so close, you're about to cum -
Steve pulls off you, his lips making a wet, obscene pop before they curl into a fiendish grin. You whine, and he chuckles at you, rubbing your thigh apologetically. "You taste so fucking good," he says breathlessly.
"Why'd you stop?" you whimper. "And…thank you?"
"I'm having too much fun and didn't want you to cum yet," he says simply. "Plus, I wanted to ask something."
"Go for it."
You can't see them, but you can feel Steve's fingers on your pussy; his thumb makes a few small, tight circles around your clit before two more digits glide down the length of your folds and stop right at the entrance of your hole. They nudge around the rim as he speaks.
"Do you like getting fingered at the same time?" he asks, hopeful. "I know I'm at least good at that."
"Yes, please, do that," you beg, hardly letting him finish the sentence. You pause as the last part of Steve's sentence registers in your lust-addled brain. I know I'm at least good at that.
The corners of your mouth tug downward into a frown. Just as Steve ducks his head down again, you cup the sides of his jaw in both hands. He looks up at you, and the way his eyes flash nervously in the darkness doesn't escape you.
"By the way," you murmur, rubbing your thumbs into the stubbly flesh of his cheeks. "You've proven to be very…very good at…yanno, all this. Not just fingering."
"Yeah?" The hope in his voice is so genuine and sweet you could cry.
"Yeah. You just needed a little guidance, that's all."
He turns his head and kisses your palm, tracing circles into the back of your hand with his own before pulling it away and lacing your fingers together. Your interlocked hands rest next to your bare hip, and he presses a chaste kiss to your inner thigh. "Want me to get back to the, uh…fun part?"
You giggle. "I'm having a ton of fun, personally, but if you mean the eating my pussy part…yes, please."
"Gotcha."
Steve wastes no time reclaiming your swollen clit in his mouth, but he's decidedly gentler as he trails his two middle fingers around the rim of your hole. You can't tell if he's teasing you or testing the waters as he dips the tips inside you a few times, never edging past the first knuckles before pulling them back out again.
If he keeps this up, you’re going to go batshit insane. You're milliseconds away from telling him so before he swipes his fingers through the slick puddling beneath your pussy, and plunges them inside you up to the last knuckle.
"Oh my fucking God," you moan, writhing as much as possible while trapped between Steve's body and the car. His fingers curl, brushing against a spot that makes sparks fly behind your closed eyes, and he rubs against it purposefully once your voice pitches up and your breathing quickens even more. Both hands tangle in his disheveled hair, and you're torn on whether to push him away with how overwhelming the pleasure is becoming or pull him closer so he never stops. You settle on knotting your fingers at the roots and holding on for dear life.
Steve's fingers make lewd wet sounds as they pump in and out of your hole, and his free hand rests on the soft mound of skin above your clit. He pulls back just slightly, a stringy line of saliva connecting his tongue to your body, and his index finger stretches your skin up enough that the hood of your clit shifts backward. He chuckles.
"You should see how much of a mess your pussy is," he says. His tongue darts out to lick the slick shining on his lips. "It's so cute."
"Cute?" You don't know if that would've been the word you'd have picked to describe yourself right now, nor had anyone ever done so before. Despite the flush rising high on your cheekbones, you pretend to be more offended by it than you really are.
"Adorable," Steve coos, a smug smile sprawling across his handsome face. "And the noises you're making are even cuter. Have you been saving those just for me?"
You're speechless. You can't deny it, but you sure as hell aren't going to confirm it for him, either. His head will get so big you worry it'll fill the car's cab until you're both suffocated by the sheer mass of it. You sit up as much as you can against the car door, tugging the hand still woven with yours and smiling audaciously at him. You cross pinched fingers in front of your lips in a zipping motion, twisting them at the corner and flicking your wrist over your shoulder. My lips are sealed.
Steve scoffs. "Oh? We'll see how long that lasts, pretty girl."
Steve thrusts his fingers deep inside you again, fluttering them against your g-spot, then spits on your exposed clit. He dips his head and licks up the saliva trickling down your slit in one slow, hot strip, eyes never leaving your face.
You press your lips together tight, screwing your eyes shut and exhaling hard through your nose. Your legs are trembling, you're gripping his hand so tightly you're surprised he isn't complaining of bruised bones yet, and your chest is heaving with the effort of staying silent, but you're winning.
Or, at least, you think you're winning.
That is until he stuffs his fingers so deep inside you that it causes his hand to curl upward, almost cupping your cunt in his palm and grinding the heel of his hand into your tender clit. You can't help but gasp as he outright abuses your g-spot, rubbing circles against it with such pressure that even if you wanted to make noise, you can’t - the pleasure radiating from your core has snatched your voice away. You can't even draw in a satisfying breath and only manage a few sparse, shallow gasps.
"You done acting like you're not gonna give me what I want?" Steve asks, voice dripping with sweet condescension. You sob. It takes a stammering, whimpering, tear-filled moment before you gather enough oxygen to reply.
"U-Uh-huh, I'm - shit - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, Steve…."
"Atta girl." Though his fingers don't relent in the brutal pace they've set, he does bend his hand down enough so he can lap at your clit again. Tears eke out of the corners of your eyes and drip slowly into your hairline, and when you find your voice again, it bursts out of you in a broken scream.
It takes thirty seconds of consistent attention before he's got you close again, and you warn him of that fact by whining and tugging on his hair.
"You gonna cum for me?" he huffs, breath washing over your sensitive skin.
"Y-Yes, yes, yes, fuck - oh fuck me, Steve -!"
"Soon, baby," he hums.
Your orgasm crashes into you full force, and your throat burns with the force of your wailing as you arch off the backseat; you guarantee you're pulling some of Steve's hair out with how tight your grip is, but he is decidedly unfazed. He milks this moment for all its worth, never stopping or slowing in his ministrations.
Tears flow down your cheeks freely, soaking into the neck of your shirt and wetting the hair you'd spent so much time on. The pleasure crescendos into something too intense to handle quickly. You choke out a few half-assed pleas, your brain melting out of your ears at this point, far beyond being capable of intelligible sentences, and Steve ignores you.
Clearly, you don't decide when Steve Harrington is done - he does.
Your orgasm seems to go on for days, months even, and just as the pain begins to nip at the edges of your earth-shattering pleasure, as you almost snap your legs shut and beg Steve to please just give you a small break, you feel it.
Your second orgasm. Building, apparently in secret, riding the tails of your first one and sneaking up on you to the point you don't notice you're going to cum until your cunt spasms around Steve's fingers again.
"C-C-Cumming, cumming again, fuck, oh God, fuck, I can't - Steve, I can't-"
"Yes, you can," Steve assures, fingers working impossibly faster. You're astonished he doesn't have the mother of all hand cramps right now. Perhaps he does, and he just doesn't care. You don't think you care, either. "You can cum for me again, Y/N. Come on. Cum on my fingers, pretty girl."
This time, you don't even have the strength to scream. You weep and sag against the car door, body tremoring and barely managing a few pathetic pleas between hiccuping breaths.
You're drenched in sweat, and you're sure your makeup is fucked because of it. That and the tears, of course. You must look utterly trashed, but when Steve finally pulls off your poor, sore pussy with a pop, he looks at you like you're the single most beautiful creature on the planet.
He goes to wipe his lips with the back of one hand, and you notice slick shimmering down his chin and even splattered onto his neck. It's only then you feel the absolute lake of cum that’s accumulated beneath your ass, and your entire body burns bright red with embarrassment. He raises himself up on his palms, his arms boxing you in tightly.
"You are so gorgeous," he says, cupping your cheek in the hand that isn't glistening with your cum. You laugh shakily and lean into his touch.
"Sorry… 'bout your seats," you offer weakly, and he shakes his head.
"You can ruin my upholstery anytime."
Steve leans down, dark eyes scanning your face, and smiles. It's a sweet, lopsided expression, nowhere near the self-satisfied, almost sadistic grin from earlier. They both quicken your pulse, but this one assures you you can at least take this moment to recover from possibly the best orgasm of your life.
First and second-best orgasms. Wow.
He kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He slots his leg between yours, narrowly avoiding the puddle you've made, and cradles your head as if he's the only thing keeping it from flopping sideways. Frankly, he is. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead before leaning his own against it.
"You okay?" he asks. You nod, sighing and swallowing despite your parched mouth. Your hands rest atop your chest, curled up into each other meekly as you try to regain any semblance of strength in your extremities. You bump your lips into him again briefly.
"You're a remarkably fast learner, Steve Harrington," you mumble, voice hoarse. He chuckles.
"It's easy when I have such an incredible teacher.”
It takes a few minutes to clean you - and the car - up. Steve digs around in his glove box for some old fast food napkins and gingerly sops as much of your cum out of his seats as he can while you lay on your side, curled up and heavy-lidded as the adrenaline slowly dribbles out of your system. He dabs the sweat from your brow, following the rough, cheap napkin with gentle kisses to soothe your flushed skin. Afterward, he bunches the napkins and shoves them in his passenger side door before rejoining you in the backseat.
He hoists you up onto his lap and guides your head onto his shoulder, allowing you to nuzzle your face into his neck and inhale his scent as he rubs your back.
"Any more pointers?" he asks just before you've dozed off. You smile and shake your head.
"None whatsoever. You've exceeded my greatest expectations, dear pupil." He laughs and thumps your back appreciatively. It's not until you're readjusting slightly to get more comfortable that you realize something - Steve is still hard. Achingly so, it would seem, as you can feel the rigid denim stretched over his bulge so tightly you're surprised the zipper hasn't popped clean off. Heat stirs in your belly, and you make a soft, serene noise in your throat as you grind your bare pussy into his lap.
His hips stutter upward just enough for you to bounce slightly, and you giggle into the crook of his neck. "We still haven't taken care of you yet."
"We don't have to if you're too tired," he assures you, voice little more than a deep hum against the shell of your ear. "I'm happy just makin' you feel good."
You consider it. You know you'll be sore tomorrow, regardless of if you choose to have more of Steve Harrington stuffed inside you, and your clit is throbbing and achy to the touch. You could fall asleep on his chest right now; he could keep you in this beautiful, dreamlike space for the rest of time if he wanted to. But there's a part of you, a part much, much louder than the part complaining about your sore slit or exhausted body, that is dying to know what Steve's dick looks like.
You leave a trail of kisses up from the hollow of his neck to the curve of his jaw and blink at him happily. Once your faces are close enough that his eyelashes are nearly tickling your cheekbones, you snake one hand between your bodies and trail a finger over the cold metal teeth of his zipper.
"Just 'cause my cunt is sore doesn't mean I'm totally out of commission," you purr. "And since you did so well with your mouth on me… don't you think it's fair I return the favor?"
You feel, rather than hear, the low moan that rumbles through Steve’s chest at the insinuation. You hook your nail through the eye of his zipper and give an experimental tug.
"Can I suck your cock, Steve?"
His lips are on yours almost before the question rolls off your tongue. His fingers tangle in your hair, keeping you still as his tongue explores inside your mouth. Steve's natural taste mixes with the taste of your slick in an intoxicating way, but just before your head starts spinning, he breaks the kiss enough to breathe, "You're gonna have to move, baby."
Of all the lewd, downright filthy things Steve Harrington has done and said tonight, the way he slurs the word "baby" against your swollen lips is the thing that makes you blush the hottest.
He reaches behind you and opens the car door, and you both shiver slightly as the cold air rushes in from the forest and cools your sweat-soaked skin. He pats your thigh and juts his chin forward, so you awkwardly clamber out of the BMW despite your wobbling legs. You lean one hand on the car's roof while Steve scoots to sit on the edge of the backseat and swings his legs onto the ground.
He brushes past you as he emerges from the car, planting a quick kiss on the top of your head before he pops the trunk and struggles with something inside for a moment. With a victorious smile, Steve waves the same raggedy blue towel that had been wrapped around "Lucille" before assuming his spot in the backseat again. He folds it in half once and lays it out between his spread legs atop the mud and sparse grass you're standing on.
"So you don't get your legs all dirty," he explains, observing your mildly confused expression.
"My legs?"
"It'd be killer on your back, sucking my dick while you're bent at the waist, wouldn't it?" Steve laughs, undoing his belt with deft fingers while he watches the realization dawn on you. "The least I can do is make you more comfortable and keep the mud and crap off your legs, right?"
“Yeah…totally…”
Words escape you as you watch the metal of Steve's belt buckle glitter in the moonlight while he slips the leather out of the loop. His shirt is riding up just far enough onto his stomach that you can see a dark thatch of hair leading upward from the hem of his jeans, and at that moment, you are determined to follow Steve's happy trail with your tongue at some point. As he pops the button on his pants, you release your grip on the car and collapse to your knees. You grab his hands and pull them out of the way, splaying your fingers across his thighs and squeezing.
"Let me," you say, eyes darting between his mostly undone jeans and his face. He chuckles at you, and you try to commit his crooked, sweet smile and warm brown eyes to memory. He's beyond handsome, drop-dead fucking gorgeous - and he's letting you suck his cock. You take a moment to thank whatever deity or greater cosmic force that's brought you to this exact moment in your life.
"Be my guest," Steve says, leaning back on his palms and staring down the bridge of his nose at you. You lean forward, using the grip on his legs to keep balance and capture the end of his zipper between your teeth. You drag it down agonizingly slowly while keeping complete eye contact with him. You can't look away from his amazed and steadfastly aroused face. Pants fully unzipped, you think you can make out that Steve is wearing dark red boxer briefs.
Very normal, all things considered, but you know in the back of your head that this particular shade of red will always make you horny now - Pavlov's dogs had their bell, and you drool at the sight of Steve Harrington's underwear.
Steve lifts his ass off the backseat just enough for you to tug his pants and boxers down to his knees. You could pull his cock out through his underwear, but no, you want to see all of him, every last inch. Fair is fair, right?
Steve is…fuck, he's big. Bigger than you ever even fantasized about.
His cock springs upright fully after you've freed it from his boxers, and with a hard swallow and a fluttery feeling in your gut, you realize it's big enough to touch his navel. It curves toward his belly, an angle so perfect it's impossible not to imagine how it'll feel inside you once you can handle it. The head is flushed a dark red and slick with precum, and you watch in reverence as a milky bead forms at the slit. It's all you can do to not surge forward immediately and lick it off. The hair covering the base of Steve's dick and balls is dark, nearly black, and unexpectedly curly compared to the other hair on his body.
You reach a tentative hand out and wrap it around his shaft. He's so thick your fingers barely touch once you've made a fist. Steve hisses at the feeling and drops his head back a little.
"You're…so fucking big," you say breathlessly. Steve laughs and cards a hand through your hair, brushing sweaty strands away from your forehead.
"You think you're gonna be able to handle it?" His voice drips with fake sympathy, so you nod your head despite being unsure. The head is so big you worry you won't be able to fit it in your mouth without your back teeth accidentally scraping it, let alone have it go down your throat. But the cocky, smug look he wears makes you want to suck his dick until he cries, just like you did.
You nudge his shirt further up his torso, noting how solid his abdominal muscles feel beneath your palm, and dip your head down to his happy trail. You lay soft kisses amongst the thick, coarse hair, and Steve subtly squirms.
"Ticklish?" you ask. He narrows his eyes.
"Don't even think about it."
You chuckle, sorely tempted.
You copy his actions from earlier and lick a long, hot stripe with your flattened tongue up the entire length of his cock, stopping only to swirl around the head and lap up his precum. The salty taste blooms across your tongue and your mouth embarrassingly floods with drool as you suck and lick more of the flavor into it. You inch carefully down his shaft, opening your jaw as wide as possible to avoid an encounter between his dick and your molars and twirl your tongue around the length in your mouth to make up for what you can't wholly swallow yet. One hand wraps around the base to make up the difference, stroking up and down slowly as you bob your head.
It's an interesting, intricate dance, trying to fit Steve Harrington's monster cock in your mouth without outright biting it. You persuade your gag reflex to let him go down your throat a bit more, your quick strokes getting slicker and slicker with the drool that pours freely down Steve's dick and wets his pubic hair. Breathing through your nose proves difficult when his massive cockhead obstructs the back of your throat entirely, but you manage well enough.
Steve is absolutely beside himself. He's moaning unabashedly, and it's like music to your ears. He's the first man you've ever been with who makes noises outside of oddly paced-out grunts or a random curse word here or there, and it's having more of an effect on you than you ever could have imagined. You press your thighs together as more slickness drips from your throbbing cunt, free to gush almost to your knees without the interference of your panties.
"Fuck, baby, fucking shit…fuck yeah, just like that… you're sucking my cock so good, you look so fucking hot right now, oh my God," Steve babbles, eyes fluttering and head lolled over to one side. He bucks his hips, probably involuntarily, and his cock bumps the back of your throat just hard enough that it makes you gag.
You cough and pull off him far enough to take a breath, your hand still firmly locked around his base and wet with spit. He laughs breathily and caresses your cheek as you pant.
“Sorry…sorry…I didn't mean to choke you. You're just… you're so good…."
"You can, uh…like, do that again if you want," you say shyly. Steve cocks an eyebrow.
"Do what?"
"That. What you just did. Again."
"You want me to gag you like that again?" It's said with genuine surprise, not judgment, and you smile sheepishly at him.
"Kinda, yeah…only if you're okay with it too, I just…I can handle it…."
He considers it, absently twirling a few strands of your hair around his fingers as he mulls your request over. Then, both hands slide to the back of your head and gather your hair into one large, tight handful that makes you sit up straighter. Cold air gusts against your freshly exposed skin, and you shiver as Steve leans forward and kisses your forehead. He uses his other hand to pull his jacket tighter around your body, tucking the collar against your throat.
"If you can handle it," he says, and with one smooth push, he's shoved you back down on his cock. The head bumps the back of your throat hard, and though your entire body jerks forward as you gag, Steve doesn't relent. He seems as determined as you were to fit the daunting length of his dick down your throat, and the fact you practically begged him to facefuck you appears to have dissolved any lingering inhibitions he may have had. He keeps one hand securely fisted in your hair, and the other moves to feel where his length is bulging through your throat. He hums lowly and strokes his fingers over your taut flesh.
"You can take more than that, can't you?"
You haven't even begun to respond before he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his way past your uvula, and you can only gag and shudder as your nose gets buried in the thick curls at the base of his cock. He guides you back by your hair only far enough that his head isn't bullying into your airway anymore, then pushes you back down - he does this over and over, hardly letting you have a moment to breathe while he chases his pleasure. You moan as you realize you've essentially become a means to an end, a method of reaching an orgasm, a warm, wet hole for Steve to fuck his cock into, and your fingers sneak down between your thighs to rub your aching clit.
Though you try to be discreet, you're soaked, and you can't do a thing to hide the obscene squelching sounds your pussy makes as you grind into your hand. Steve, with sweaty hair plastered to his forehead and drunk on lust, laughs.
"You're so fuckin' cute. You like bein' my cocksleeve that much, pretty girl?"
You attempt a nod and a noise that leans toward acquiescence, and it's good enough.
Steve sets a rigorous pace, bringing you down far enough to kiss his pelvis every time, moaning a little louder when the muscles of your throat contract around his thick shaft as you gag. You are, admittedly, worried you'll puke at some point, and the thought of having arguably the best sexual experience of your life ruined by you blowing chunks all over Steve Harrington's penis does, unfortunately, cross your mind. But before you can dwell too long on it - and before the building nausea becomes too much for you to handle - Steve pulls you off his cock.
Your lips pop wetly as they leave his shaft, and you gasp shakily, the sudden influx of oxygen almost dizzying. Drool drips freely from your aching jaw and the thick strand of saliva that connects your mouth to the head of his dick glints in the moonlight overhead. Your fingers never stop working your clit, though your orgasm ebbs away after your throat ceases to be utterly abused.
"Why'd you stop?" you rasp.
"Was gonna cum too soon," he chuckles. You whine and surge forward, but you're stopped by the firm hand still ensnared in your hair. You crave the taste of Steve's cum on your tongue so intensely, and the fact he isn't letting you have it right away fills you with tantrum-level frustration.
"What, you want it?"
"Yes, Jesus Christ, please."
"Aww. You can beg much better than that." His fingers curl, tugging your hair at the root and jostling you back and forth a little.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he starts dragging you further away from his shining, dark-red cock. Drool and precum ooze from the tip and you can see it twitching every few seconds, and though your throat feels raw and sore, your jaw aches, and your legs are alight with pins and needles, you need it back in your mouth. You could kneel here all night, and you would swear you were in heaven. The brazen fire in your belly has been snuffed, replaced with the most thrilling need you've ever experienced, so you can't think of anything snarky to say in response. Instead, you do as Steve says, and you fucking beg.
"Please, please give it back, Steve."
"Give what back, baby?" he purrs.
"Your cock."
"What about my cock?"
"Please give me back your cock, Steve. Pretty please, I need it."
He clicks his tongue at you, giving your head a little shake again while your eyes are helplessly fixed on his glistening shaft. "Hmm, I still don't believe you."
A broken sob falls from your mouth before you can help it, and you paw helplessly at his thighs. "Please, please, please, fuck my face, Steve, please. I need it so badly. Please give it to me. I'll do anything, just please...."
He smiles and coos at you, bending down slightly to kiss your forehead softly. "You sound so pretty and pathetic for me, baby," he hums.
Your mouth is full again in a flash, and this time, it's evident that Steve has surpassed any pretense of being gentle with you. That clumsy, nervous boy from earlier has melted away, leaving this commanding, exceedingly bold, and surprisingly dominant man in his wake. His voice has lowered to just above a growl, rough with lust. The way he's reclining back and fucking your mouth like he's pumping into his fist, the way he teases and mocks you and eggs you on - it's fucking intoxicating. You can't get enough. You want him to go further; you want more, more, more.
"Fuck, fuck, 'm cumming, I'm fucking cumming, fuck Y/N," Steve gasps, placing both hands on the sides of your head and driving his cock down your battered throat. The heat of your impending orgasm begins to pool between your hips, and you rub your clit furiously as you gaze up at Steve, trails of mascara-riddled tears tracked down your spit-wet cheeks.
The exact moment his cock pulses and the first hot, thick rope of cum shoots down your throat, you push yourself over the edge of your third orgasm of the night.
You moan as much as you can around his dick, body spasming uncontrollably, and the vibrations from your noises make him grip the seats beneath him so hard you think he’ll shred the upholstery. You try to swallow as best you can, and Steve does mercifully pull out just enough that the head of his cock rests against the middle of your tongue, allowing you room to breathe. His cum is salty and heady, and you're immediately addicted to it, and you hollow your cheeks to greedily suck more of it into your mouth.
He looks at you with worshipful adoration, like you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Your hand drops from your overstimulated clit as your orgasm abates, and you use it to hold onto Steve's thigh for balance. You distantly feel embarrassed about smearing slick on his jeans.
When Steve pulls his spent cock from your mouth and releases your bunched-up hair, you fall forward unceremoniously into his lap. You pant raggedly into the fabric clustered around his upper legs, trembling like you've been tossed in the snow. He praises you under his breath, almost like he's not entirely cognizant of what he's saying.
"You did such a good job, God, that was amazing…you did so well, baby…fuck…."
You smile dreamily, glowing under his praise. He pets your hair absentmindedly, and after a while, he gingerly guides you back so you're sitting on your haunches, the rough terrycloth of the towel digging into your knees. He looks beautiful in the bluish light of the evening, hair mussed and sticking out at odd angles, cheeks still dusted a light pink, lips swollen and red and wet with his spit. Steve cradles your face in his hands and rubs at the greyish tear tracks streaking your cheeks, almost embarrassed of their presence.
"Are you okay?"
You nod sluggishly, nuzzling your cheek into Steve's surprisingly rough palm. He smooths the frazzled hair he'd been tugging on so enthusiastically back away from your damp forehead, fluffing it apologetically once he realizes the style you'd sought to achieve is thoroughly ruined. You're sure you look destroyed, to be fair - most of your lipstick is smeared messily on the lower half of Steve's softening cock, so you imagine the rest of it is smudged down your chin and across your cheeks. When you wipe the back of your hand beneath your jaw to catch a few stray tears, your skin is stained blackish from the mascara-laden liquid. Definitely not Harrington-proof, you note amusedly.
"Lemme help you up," Steve says, scooting forward off the backseat and bending toward you. One arm snakes around your waist and tightens against the small of your back; the other hand knits itself against your right hand, and when Steve pulls you to your feet, you're pressed flush against his chest, bodies entwined like partners gliding across a dance floor. Despite everything that's happened in the last hour, you still giggle nervously at the lack of distance between your face and Steve's. He smiles sweetly, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
The hand clasped in Steve's twitches toward your lips reflexively. Your mouth still tastes like his cum, and while you certainly don't mind, you aren't sure if he will. He notices your hesitance, and after a moment, the reason seems to click for him. His smile grows imperceptibly.
Steve takes your face in both hands and kisses you deeply, licking your bottom lip before sliding his tongue against yours. Your already weakened knees wobble, threatening to let you drop like a ton of bricks right back to the rumpled towel beneath your feet. The tangy taste of your cunt still lingers on his tongue and mixes with the salty flavor coating your mouth; it's addictive, and for a moment, it tricks you into thinking you could go just one more round. The way your clit throbs painfully at the mere insinuation, however, quickly dispels that idea.
Steve presses a final, sweet kiss to the tip of your nose after he pulls away from your lips, and the way his eyes sparkle at you in the moonlight dashed across his face makes your stomach flip excitedly, a sensation you're almost embarrassed to feel. It seems too innocent, too chaste after everything you've done tonight, but your cheeks flush hotly regardless.
"You…are something else," Steve says quietly, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your cheek.
"You're one to talk."
You turn your head toward his palm, kissing his warm skin. The yellow-green light of his watch glows out of the corner of your eye, and when he twists his wrist a bit to the side, you catch a glimpse of the numbers.
No. No, that can't be right.
Steve makes a discordant sound as you yank his arm back toward your face, pushing his sleeve up to his elbow. You must've read the time wrong; it can't be that late.
But there it is, clear as day, in blocky electric numbers. Your curfew, which you've never broken, passed almost half an hour ago.
Your heart plummets down through your stomach, and you swear you hear it plop into the dirt at your feet.
"I'm so dead," you murmur, and Steve cocks his head quizzically.
"What?"
"I'm dead!"
You scramble toward the rearview mirror and tug it upward. You look absolutely wrecked. How will you explain why ninety percent of your makeup is gone? Why your hair looks like you've just gone through a tornado? Steve huffs out a confused laugh.
"Am I…missing something?" he asks, leaning casually against the side of the car. You tug the collar of your shirt up and scrub at your mouth - it makes your lipstick look worse and stains the inside of one of your favorite tops. Shit. You frenziedly try to work the buttons on Steve’s jacket closed, desperately tugging the collar up in an attempt to conceal the rapidly deepening red blotches he’s sucked into your skin. They’ll bruise by tomorrow, and if you weren’t in a blind panic, the thought would turn you on.
Admittedly, it still does.
"I'm so, so late. My mom is gonna kill me," you say frantically. Maybe it'll be dark enough that no one will notice your lipstick…but they'll definitely see the black trenches carved into your cheeks. Shit.
You turn to the side, trying to tame your hair into a halfway decent shape. It doesn’t work, and you exhale roughly through your nose; the scrunchie you always wear around your wrist is snatched off, and you twist your hair into possibly the sloppiest, worst bun you’ve ever created, but it’ll have to do. Every single aspect of your appearance is like a bright red, flaring neon sign blinking above your head, ready to announce I HAD HOT SEX, AND THAT’S WHY I’M SO INCREDIBLY LATE.
You know it shouldn't matter; she doesn’t have much recourse since you're an adult, but fear still pangs in your gut so hard it makes you nauseous. You can picture it now, tiptoeing into the living room just to have the lamp in the living room flicker to life, your enraged and concerned mother silhouetted in the dim yellow light. You're sure you'll be able to see the steam rolling off her body in waves from where you'll be standing at the landing of the stairs. You'll be lucky if she lets you leave for the supermarket after this, let alone on another date.
"Shit, is it really that late?" Steve asks, and how his voice pitches up in genuine confusion only aids your panic. He bounds to the driver's side of the car, almost tripping over his feet as he fumbles the keys from his pocket and slams them into the ignition. Your butt barely touches the passenger side seat before the engine roars to life, and Steve slams on the gas.
Apologies tumble freely from his mouth as you clumsily clip your seatbelt into place, and you assure him it's alright as best you can while licking your fingers and scouring the mascara stripes off your cheeks. It doesn't work and tastes weird, but it's all you've got.
~~~
When Steve screeches up your driveway, you are an hour past curfew, and that’s only by the grace of God and Steve’s disregard for speed limits.
You sling your purse strap over one shoulder and almost kick the passenger side door off its hinges as you get out of the car, but just before you're about to bolt up your driveway, you pause.
It wouldn't kill you to be just a little later, right?
You whip back around, and Steve stares up at you, a little breathless, flushed, and still so beautiful. You grip the edge of the window and bend down, poking your head inside the car.
"I had an amazing time," you say, and you wish Steve wouldn't smile at you the way he does because it makes you want to say, "Fuck it," and hop back in the car. But he does, and you don't, and he nods.
"You wanna do it again sometime? I mean, not, not it, like a date - well, we can do it again if you want to. I'm just saying we don't have to…."
He sighs, and you pretend not to notice the flexing and unflexing of his hands on the steering wheel. It's endlessly endearing how nervous he is when he isn't jamming his cock down your throat or eating you out like a starving man. Something in your mind wants to see how flustered you can make him, but you silence it.
"Such a way with words," you tease, and you cup his cheek in your hand. You kiss him tenderly, hoping it encapsulates everything you want to say but don't have time for right now. Fingers slide up the nape of your neck and ensnare themselves in your hair, keeping your lips locked for a few moments longer. Your mouth is swollen and chapped, but you'd kiss him all night if he'd let you. Maybe one day he will.
"I'd love to do this again, by the way," you hum against the corner of his mouth. "Assuming I live past tonight, that is."
"Looking forward to it, Y/N. Oh, and, by the way…."
He grips your hair, not too hard, but just enough to where you stiffen and let out a soft moan. He peppers kisses along your cheek, to your temple, to the shell of your ear.
"I'm keeping your panties. Maybe next time I'll shove 'em in your mouth if you try to play the quiet game again with me."
He releases his grip on your hair, and his hand purposefully slides along the curve of your jaw until it reaches your chin. He pinches it between thumb and forefinger and kisses the bewildered, now painfully aroused look off your face before leaning back, giving you a wink, and revving the car's engine.
"See you soon, baby," he calls. His car crunches back down your driveway, and you're left standing there, brain short-circuiting and threatening to melt out of your ears, hyperaware of the cold night air nudging against your bare pussy under your skirt. You press your thighs together and jam fabric between them self-consciously, hoping against hope that you won't flash your poor, unsuspecting mother, who is undoubtedly waiting for you to chew you out.
You turn unsteadily, gazing up at your house. The living room light is already on, and you can see a lithe shadow flitting anxiously from within the windows. You're going to get an earful.
It was so. Fucking. Worth it.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#stranger things#stranger things smut#steve harrington / reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#fem!reader#f!reader#smut#my writing#somebody to love series
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Brown Eyes | Jessie Fleming x Reader
Brown Eyes.
You and Jessie have been dating for a little over a year now. When you transferred to Chelsea you were quickly charmed by the shy Canadian, who on one of your earlier training sessions, welcomed you to the team with a ball to your face.
Hearing “Heads up!!” should’ve given you more than enough warning, but you were so focused on your own drills that you did not think that the warning was directed at you, nor were you expecting the sheer force of the ball hitting you right on the side of your head.
As soon as the ball made impact you came barrelling down to ground, luckily just about managing to roll yourself over to your side to land safely without injuring yourself any further.
“Fuck! I am so sorry. Are you okay?”
You hear the voice coming closer and the sound of their cleats pushing into the grass before you feel them drop down to crouch beside you. You wince as a warm hand lands on the arm currently nursing the side of your head. Your eyes squint as the throbbing continues, trying to take steady breaths to alleviate the dizziness that’s starting to take over your head. A dull ache settled behind your eyes, making it difficult to focus. The training ground around you felt slightly off-kilter, as if gravity had momentarily lost its grip. You attempted to push yourself up, only to be met with a wave of dizziness that forced you to slump back down.
“The medics are coming, don’t move” You squeeze your eyes closed a few times in pain. The dull throbbing in your head making it hard for you to identify who is talking to you, but the accent makes it pretty distinguishable.
“Jessie?” The Canadian with the freckles and the pretty brown eyes.
“Yeah. It was me. Sorry about that y/n” Said brown eyes meet yours, concern and guilt swimming in them. However, there’s more to her eyes– something so alluring and captivating about hers. Amber with the smallest hits of green under certain lights, but under others her eyes are like expressive palettes of cocoa, a special treat for those lucky enough to gaze into them.
Warm, tender and familiar.
You avert your eyes away from hers quickly when you notice you were staring a little too long, the headache still a dull drum, nagging and incessant. It would be weird to memorise the exact Pantone shade of one of your newest teammate’s eyes so you instead focus on the rest of her. The Chelsea midfielder’s cheeks are flushed red, as she struggles slightly to catch her breath, clearly having ran the entire length of the pitch to get to you.
“Sorry I–“
“s’alright. Just a slight knock” You grin at her— or at least you hope you are grinning and not looking like you were about to pass out at any minute now.
“a slight knock, eh?” She’s cute. Very cute. And very Canadian
Before you had a chance to quip back, you were surrounded by the medics. They assess you, going through all the steps to make sure there were no signs of anything serious. They poke and prob at you before concluding that the only thing you’ll suffer from is a sore bump on the side of your head and a lingering headache.
The entire time Jessie was stood by you, refusing to leave even when the medics and the coaching staff assured her that you were in good hands. She insisted that she stay with you.
And she did.
After that incident, you and Jessie were practically inseparable. The quiet, reserved brown eyed girl that you had first met was now the girl that you would sit next to on the bus, partner up with during drills, and have front row seats to her entertaining dry sense of humour.
A few months later, Jessie finally found the courage to ask you out on a date— and of course you had agreed. On your first date, Jessie took you to a farmers market where there were stalls and stalls of seasonal foodstuffs from artisan and local producers. You had the most perfect day with her, stopping at almost every stall to taste the samples that vendors leave out. You and Jessie barely let go of each other’s hands the entire day, much preferring to walk side by side and hadn’t in hand. If you weren’t holding hands, Jessie’s hand was a comforting touch on your lower back or around your waist.
Occasionally, you would take your phone out from your bag to snap a picture, wanting to document all the cool foods and the pretty flower stalls. You knew Jessie wasn’t too fond of the camera; however, it seemed like every time she noticed your phone in your hand, she would smile at you, even striking a pose or two at times, clearly showing that she didn’t mind you taking pictures of her.
“Cute” You mumble, mostly to yourself, after you snap a photo of Jessie drinking her iced coffee.
“Did you say something, baby?” The brunette steps closer to you, personal space be damned, and wraps an arm around your waist.
You grin down at her as you click the lock button on your phone, sliding it back into your bag. You take a moment to focus on the girl in front of you, appreciating her warm brown eyes, her pretty freckles, her rosy cheeks, and the little flyaway hairs that would not stay down no matter how many times she fix her hair.
You bring a hand up to cup her cheek, turning it away from you slightly, before you whisper “I said you’re cute” against the soft skin, pecking multiple kisses before planting your lips against her cheek for one more big kiss.
“Gimme one here” Jessie turns her head towards you, her eyes closed and a small pout already on her lips.
You bite your lip at how adorable she looks, so different from the aloof girl you met months ago. You must’ve taken longer than she wanted because she opens her eyes and playfully squints up at you. “you gonna kiss me or what?”
You gently squish her cheeks together with one hand, her lips forming a cute little pout. “how ‘bout a bit of patience, cheeky girl” You press a wet kiss right on her still-puckered lips, moving your hand from her cheeks to cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
If you had to list one of your favourite pastimes it was making out with your girlfriend. For someone so shy at first, Jessie wasn’t afraid of PDA— anytime, anywhere. She is always the one initiating affection, not caring about who may be watching. Jessie always had an arm over your shoulder, a hand placed on your lower back, or a grip on your waist.
Pulling away slowly, to savour the kiss, you open your eyes to enchanting brown gazing up into yours. A cascade of warmth, like autumn's embrace, like the coffee she solemnly drinks, like the muted shade of her hair against the morning light.
It’s comfort, it’s love, and it’s Jessie.
You often wonder how it would be like to see the world through her eyes, but if you were to ask the Canadian she would say you could see a glimpse of her entire world reflected if you simply looked into her eyes— You.
currently obsessed with jessie fleming and as a result: this.
stay warm, my loves
--- butter
#jessie fleming#woso#woso fanfics#jessie fleming imagine#woso x reader#woso imagine#woso blurbs#woso community#jessie fleming x reader
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Don't You Worry Your Pretty Little Mind
DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!reader
Sugar Daddy Joel, No outbreak
Masterlist : Taglist
Summary: You need money for next semester. Luckily, your dad's rich friend's eyes follow you were ever you go, and he thinks you're such a good girl.
Warning: DUB CON VIA BRAINWASHING AND MANIPULATION: The sex is v consentual, the breeding is worn down. Breeding kink, age gap (30 ish years), Joel's obsession with gender rolls. The gender rolls and sentiments expressed by Joel and eventually reader are not mine. You do not need to be a mother or wife or care for children to be a good girl. Joel is controlling and manipulates reader away from friends and keeps her financially in the blind but he does not hurt her. If you like this and are okay with DARK DARK DARK you might like The Wrong Way on my masterlist bc Joel housewifes little one up. Cream pie, fingering, oral, but its not super smutty. Most is implied.
Immersability: Joel can pick up reader, reader can have kids theoretically.
This born of me being under extream stress rn and wanting all my thoughts out of my head.
*******************************
Joel was broad, sweaty, and all consuming over you.
His thrusts were growing erratic, sloppy, but that was okay; he’d made you cum 4 times already, so it was his turn. You had no idea how someone his age had so much stamina while you got winded walking up a flight of stairs, but were too tired to think much further on it. As it was, you were falling asleep as his rhythmic thrust rocked you. It wasn’t that you were bored, it was that you were completely and totally wrecked. Spent. Fucked to sleep.
“Please baby, please? I need to cum inside you, need to make you mine.”
“I am yours.” You insisted quietly, fucked out head unable to stay up and nodding to the side. You needed sleep.
Joel continues to grunt, to plead with you. “Not yet, not until you’re stuffed full of my cum, not until your belly swells with my baby…”
*
It was supposed to be one time. You were so, so close to having enough money for another semester of college… but not enough. You’d been late on payments so often your school required it upfront for you now, and you were just short.
“Hey hun, you alright?” Joel let himself into your family’s home. He had a key right now, with your parents vacationing in Europe the last couple months and gave Joel a key to watch over things. To watch over you.
You check yourself in the mirror once again, everything needed to be perfect, so you shout down the hall. “One moment, sorry!”
“Take your time, darl’n.”
Re-apply lipstick. Wait, no, too much lipstick. It’s too try hard, take some off. Fuck you smugged it! Touch out your cover up, then the lipstick again. FUCK ITS TOO MUCH! Oh fucking well, your were whoring yourself out, might as well look like one. Straighten your dress. Tits out.
You tried to act casual. It wasn’t unusual to see you dressed up for dinner, your parents were big on dressing for dinner especially when guests were over, and Joel had been a friend guest. Him and your dad were close friends ever since your dad represented Joel in his divorce, getting him full custody of Sarah. It ended up being pointless anyway, as his ex-wife stopped taking Sarah for her weekends a year into the divorce. Sarah had been just a pawn for her, but Joel loved her, taking care of everything she needed for college. His business had taken off, moving from not only construction to full on housing and property developments, so he had paid for her college and was paying for her dream wedding as well. You were invited, although you’d only met her a few times. Your parents, despite their success, had no interest in helping you with college when you rejected pre-law in favor of early childhood development, so you’d been paying your own way.
Joel had defended your life choices when your dad attempted to publicly embarrass you, your dad stating that you ‘don’t fucking listen’ and were an ungratful, disobidiant brat at a dinner party, but Joel wouldn’t hear it. He said you were ‘a good girl’, and that it was a beautiful thing to see a woman who cares about children, still in this world. He praised your efforts and your determination.
“Thank you for coming, Joel.”
Joel stands as you enter the room. “Of course, a pretty girl invites me to dinner, how could I say no? Everything's alright here, no one’s giving you any trouble are they?”
“Yes, everything is good, thank you.”
“Anything need fixing while I’m here?”
“No, thank you. Come on, diners ready.”
You lead him to the kitchen, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail down as you pass. This is what you were counting on.
Joel was quick to praise your food, not holding back on compliments. “This is delicious, sweetheart, you really got a skill here.” and “You’ll make some man very happy one day.”
That last one made you swell with pride. You were happy he thought of you as wife material. What you were about to do wasn’t very “good girl” of you, however. Joel always called you a good girl, while your dad thought for sure you were taking an ‘easier’ major to allow more time for partying. You wanted Joel to think you were good.
After dinner, you and Joel sat down with coffee and a cherry crumble, smoothing your dress over the couch. Conversation was light, easy. It was always easy with Joel, despite him making you nervous. He was just so fucking handsome, so fucking strong, and the way he talked about sarah with a twinkle in his eye… you know he was a good dad, a loving dad. The few times you met Sarah, Joel always took care of her even in adulthood. He gave her gas money she never asked for, told her she looked beautiful, and his face always beamed with pride when he looked at his daughter. He always hugged her goodbye, even if he’d see her tomorrow. Your father hadn’t hugged you in years.
“Is there a reason you brought me here tonight?” Joel asked, sipping his black coffee with a bit of splenda in it, a splash of the dark liquid remaining on his mustache until he dabbed it away.
You squirm a bit in your seat. “Well, yes, actually. Not that I don’t enjoy your company!” Was your fast addendum.
Joel chuckled, smiling into his mug. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I ain’t one of those old men that have delusions of pretty young girls wanting to spend time with them.”
“That’s not it!” You stand quickly, fluttering over to where he sat on the couch and plopping down. “I swear, Mr. Miller, if you say no, I’d want you to stay and finish dessert, I enjoy spending time with you, just as we are.”
*
Joel was struggling more and more to stave off his orgasm, but he needed this. He couldn’t just cum in you, although you wouldn’t resist and he doubted you’d throw a fit. He had you too wrapped around his finger by now. Young, sweet, naive thing that you were… but Joel needed you to want this too, Joel needed a life with you at his side, his pretty wife, mother of his children… starting tonight.
“Joel, nooooo…” You mutter, tired and worn out. He made sure to get you like this; compliant. “I have to finish school, Joel…”
*
“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Just tell me what you need, I’m sure we can work something out.”
You wring your hands in your lap, suddenly aware of your proximity to him. He smelled like leather and sandalwood.
“Well, as you know I’m in school…”
He nodded, setting down his drink. “That’s right, Early Childhood isn’t it?”
That made you light up, turning to actually look at him and finding his kind eyes on you. “Yes! I can’t believe you remembered!”
“I remember your dad ranting about it. I told him he shouldn’t have been surprised, good girl like you, wanting to take care of children.”
You nod quickly. “Yes exactly! My school offers a minor in special needs which I added too.” You were happy with his approval of your choice and added that fact on to make you seem more noble. This was a good cause he was investing in. You were a good girl who wanted to help children.
“My oh my, darl’n…” Joel mused. “You really are a sweetheart, aren’t you? Now, what can I do to aid such a valiant effort.”
“Well, school starts this month and I’m close, I’m so, so close to having enough but even with the overtime, it’d looking like I’ll be short about $500 for tuition, and then there’s books and supplies and-”
“Now wait a minute, little lady.” Joel held up a hand, and for a moment you’re disheartened and think he’s about to reject your ask before it’s even out, but his furrowed brow is for another reason. “Your daddy ain’t help’n you pay for school?”
“No sir… not since I refused to go to pre-law.”
“Well that ain’t right… I know how much he makes, he can pay for a few months in Europe but not your school? Fathers are supposed to take care of their daughters.” He looked genuinely disappointed.
Shrugging, you chuckle nervously. “Well, I suppose he doesn’t think it’s very useful, so he doesn’t want to pay for it.”
*
“You graduate before the second semester.”
“But my dad”
“I’ll handle your dad”
“What about Sarah?”
“I’ll handle Sarah.”
“But the money-”
Joel stopped, mid trust, his cock buried inside you and trying his best to stave off his orgasm.
“Sweetheart… Don’t you know I want to marry you?”
*
Joel had known Mike wasn’t the most attentive father, but he never thought it was this bad. He always thought you were a good girl, kind hearted and calm, empathetic and caring. It had only been this last year that he’d begun to see you as something more, something seductive, yes, someone who he thought about fisting his cock at those lonely nights, but, that wasn’t the full picture either. You were a caretaker… Maternal.
“That’s fuck’n stupid.” Joel countered, bluntly. “Take’n care of children, that’s the most important job on earth, why, your daddy should but thrilled to have such a nurturing daughter!” His voice was raised just a bit, but not at you. Didn’t your dad see what a prize he had? A woman like that, well, you were of high value. You were a treasure. His bitch of an ex wife never really wanted to be a mother, he knew that now, just like his mother. They had Sarah because that’s what you did when you were married in the 90’s. Joel fell in love immediately… she never really attached, and much like his mother wasn’t mentally present on the rare occasion she was physically… Well, his ex-wife lasted longer than his mother did, anyway. You would never leave your child like that. You would never leave him like that. “Whadya need, sweetheart.”
Your fidgeting continues. “Well… $1000… but… It’s not a loan, I was hoping to… to sell you something.”
Interesting… you had his complete attention, whatever you needed, it was yours. $1000 was nothing, and he’d much sure such a good girl had everything she needed… you deserved it.
“Whatever it it, darling girl, I’ll buy.”
He saw you taking a deep breath, hesitating at first before standing up and walking in front of him. You looked stunning in your red dress, an absolute marvel.
With a deep breath and hands folded in front of you., you answered what you were selling.
“Me.”
*
“W-what?” You were suddenly awake again, snapping back to reality at his words. “No, no Joel you’re just saying that…”
Joel shook his head. “I wouldn’t like about that, baby. C’mon, you gotta know how badly I want to marry you. You're my good girl. We’d be so happy together, just you and me…” A large, splaying hand on your bare belly. “And our baby…”
*
Joel stands up, walking over to you and towering his body over yours. “Sweetheart, do you know what you're asking?”
You look up at him and nod. “I do, Joel. Please know I understand what I’m doing.”
He shakes his head. “No, darling girl I’ll just give you the $1000, you don’t have to-”
“I want to.” You eyes shined at him, timid but attempting to look sure. “I can’t just take a hand out.”
“You can-” He reached for his wallet, but you grab his hands.
“I can’t. Joel…” You slide up to him, pressing your body too his. “I’ve seen the way you look at me… I look at you like that too.”
Reaching a hand up, Joel cups your face. “Baby…” He groans, erection growing in his pants already at the thought. “I don’t think I can do this just once… you gotta know that, don’t you? Special girl like yourself…” His eyes darted to your lips, cherry red and beautiful and oh-so inviting.
You look down at his shirt as you behind to feel up his chest. Firm muscles of hard work under the softness of age. “Well, maybe… since my dad won’t help me…” You wriggle your pelvis against his, taunting him before looking up at his brown eyes again. “We can come up with an arrangement?”
Joel was holding on by a thread. “Yeah? You gonna let me take care of you?” His thumb on your face spreads to your mouth, and when it prods are your lips, you open eagerly. Keeping eye contact with his brown orbs gone black, your nod and suck, the message clear. Yes sir.
“Fuck…” Joel mumbles his mouth encasing yours in a harsh, hard kiss and scooping you up with ease, only to lay you down on the couch. Your red dress splays and russles as he does, bending your knees so it slides down to your hips. When you make an attempt to remove the dress, rough hands stop you. “Keep the dress on.”
Your black tights, however, were ripped open to reveal white lacy underwear. “Uh fuuuuck..;. So beautiful…” He marvels at your pussy, so perfectly groomed for him. Falling to his knees on the floor, Joel mouths over the clothed core, his breath adding to the heat as he explored you.
“You don’t have to-”
“I know damn well I don’t.” Joel snaps. “I don’t want to, sweetheart, I need to.”
With that, Joel ripped off your underwear with two hands and dived into you. He couldn’t help but palm himself over his pants as he did. You just tasted too good, and he was a starved man.
*
His thrusts continued, but with a different rhythm this time. Eyes sharply on yours, he drew back slowly but thrusting in hard. Slowly, hard. Less slow, more harder. Less slow… you were going to come again, eyes never leaving his for a moment.
“Everything you ever need, everything you ever want, I’ll take care of. I’ll provide for you, I’ll love you, protect you, I’ll care for you… only thing you ever need to do is take care of me and this baby, okay? That’s it.”
You were dizzy, you were worn, you were on the precipice of climax and you were in love.
“Okay.”
His eyes light up, a smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, baby? You lett’n me fill you up?”
Joel knew you were ovulating. Of course he did. Joel tracked your periods to make sure he always knew what you needed. Heating pads, tea for bloating, pads and tampons and cups. He said he wanted to know so that he could take care of you emotionally.
Of course he knew when you were ovulating.
*
The next two hours were a blur of bliss, Joel taking care of all your needs, physical, sexual, even emotional.
At the end, a $2000 check was written in your name and a tender kiss on the head as he parted as well as plans between you to for next time.
For the next several months, ‘next time’ became more and more frequent, more and more demanding but a higher and higher price. Joel began to take care of it all. Your apartment, your food, every single need or want was handled by Joel, and in return every free moment was spent with him. You didn’t desire to see your friends. They just wanted to party. But you, you were serious about your passions. You were serious about helping people. Joel may have mentioned it once or twice when your grades were getting worse, suggesting instead of studying with them, you study at his place. He’d keep you on track. Quickly, your grades improved, and you began studying with Joel more and more. You eventually just stayed with him.
It was like a dream, you had everything you needed, including Joel who whispered his love to you every chance he had. Joel took care of you in the way your father never did, Joel filled those gaps he left.
Joel took away every in convenience. He told you when your friends weren’t good for you, he cooked for you on late nights, he even began making appointments and getting your car fixed. Your parents were none the wiser, but you began to care less what they thought. Only Joel mattered, and the children. Joel took away every worry for you, and all you had to think about was making him happy, and what to do with your upcoming degree.
*
“Yes Joel.” You whine, desperate to please him, desperate to remain his everything as he is yours. “Wanna be your wife, wanna have your babies, please?”
“Oh fuck,” He panted, holding on by a thread as his brows pursed together. “Gonna fuck you full, little mama.”
Your orgasm hits you, crashing waves causing you to cry out in a rigid scream. “Joel!!!” Your fingers claw bloody on his back. “Make me a mommy, please?”
“Ohhhhh, fuck yeah baby, good fucking girl, gonna put my baby in you, yes, yes yes, FUCK YES!” Joel growled and unloaded into you, painting your inside in his cum and filling you to the brim before collapsing onto you. Heavy and overbearing, Joel consumed your body and every thought in your head and soon, your body and entire life will make room for him.
Your mind reeled, the reality of what just happened setting in. At 22, you were at peak fertility… were you pregnant?
“Joel?” You ask, still clinging to him desperately.
“I know exactly what you’re worried about, and what do I always tell you?”
You smell his neck, reassuring yourself with his mantra. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind…” Joel always told you not to worry about a thing. He’d take care of it all, he’d take care of you…
“That’s right, sweetheart. I know you’re worried about what I said…” Joel’s body pulls away just a bit, tucking his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna marry you, baby girl. I’m gonna take care of you and this baby. If you’re pregnant, if you really are my good girl, I’ll marry you.” Sitting back, Joel watches his cock slide out of you with a ‘pop’ and laments the cum seeping out of you. As he pushes it back in, Joel brings you to orgasm yet again.
*
You were, in fact, pregnant. As your belly swelled, Joel became more and more obsessed with you, constantly caressing your belly. You graduated college of course, as you dreamed, but finding a job… it wasn’t really on your raidar There wasn’t really a need. Joel handled it all, and he said he didn’t want you dealing with that stress right now. And who would hire a heavily pregnant woman?
Joel and you married in an intimate ceremony at the 4th month mark in a small baptist church. It was your parents, a few family members of yours and a friend who two who Joel thought were good influences and Sarah and Tommy were there of course. Joel promised you a big, fancy vowel renewal whenever you wanted, but a wedding like that takes time to plan, and you both wanted to me married when you had your baby.
Joel made you happier than you ever thought possible, he took care of everything. Of course, he controlled everything too, but that was okay. You didn’t need a bank app on your phone, all you needed to know was that your debit card would go through, and you knew it would. You didn’t need the routing and account number, you didn’t need to see finances, look at insurance plans, stocks, bills, anything like that. All you needed to do was take care of your body, and soon, this baby.
“I gotta admit Joel, I wasn’t really a fan of this at the start.” Your dad announces one Sunday dinner. He had invited Tommy and Sarah over as well. Extended family. Both had been hesitant at first, especially Sarah, who was a few years older than you… but they saw how you made her dad smile, and how Joel took care of you… how could they not be happy?
“I remember” Joel jokes back.
Your dad continued. “But I gotta say, this has been good for her.”
They tended to talk about you like you weren’t in the room, sometimes, but that was okay. You were Joel’s pretty, obedient wife, and you spoke when spoken too. You were there to support Joel, not meddle in his conversations.
Joel turned to you and smiled, kissing you on the cheek and feeling your 9 month swollen belly. “She’s come a long way, but she’s a good girl, obedient. Best wife I could ask for.”
Joel spoke for you, proudly telling them how after the baby was born and you’d recovered, you had plans to put your degree to use. Not work, oh gosh no! You don't need to worry about something like that. No, you’d be volunteering at a nonprofit. And isn’t that so much better!
You wouldn’t have to have another worry in your head again, outside of being a good mother. Your could give a few hours a week to children in need and then come home to a living family without being exhausted from long days on your feet.
Everything would be taken care of.
Everything would be handled.
All you had to do was be a good girl.
************
AHHHHHHHHHHHH
I hope you guys enjoyed!!!
I am so stressed rn ive been crying for days about work stuff. I dont want to work I want to volunteer and take care of children in need and have a hot husband fuck me and and and and ANYWAY
PLease consider reblogging, it's the only way to spread fics!
I love you all, thank you to everyone whose been raching out to me
@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @morallyinept @kyloispunk @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @princesslunablogger
#dark joel#dark!joel#the last of us hbo#dark joel miller#joel miller#dub con#joel miller fic#dbf!joel miller#sugar daddy au#sugar daddy joel miller#joel miller reader#dark joel miller reader#joel x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfiction#manipulation#oel miller dub con#dark
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i cant stop thinking about aemond fucking you so sweetly and just worshipping your body, making you cum multiple times
𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; aemond spoils you like the princess you are.
𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader, p in v penetration, mentions of fingering and oral, just pure smut ♡
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; hi! i just had to write this little drabble :) please reblog and comment with your feedback. it means the world to me and keeps me motivated! be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨
"Breathe, Princess," Aemond grunts lowly, his hands holding onto your hips as you balance on his lap. When you fully press down on his erect cock once more, he guides you and lets out a satisfied hum. You start moving your hips, slowly — painfully slow — grinding his thick shaft deep inside your sopping cunt.
“M-My Prince!” you gasp out. Everything is so sensitive; you have already cum two times, once from Aemond stuffing his long fingers into your pussy and the mind-blowing oral he performed afterwards. You’re close to another orgasm, and you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so clouded by pleasure.
“Aemond,” he corrects, that one violet eye of his glinting with unadulterated desire and a tinge of fucking amusement.
Aemond pulls you down for a scorching kiss — his ability to tolerate the sight of you taking him so well is quickly vanishing. The whole thing is fucking messy, just a collision of teeth and tongues as he licks at your bottom lip. His head spins as a result of the sensuality of your kisses, and when he starts to grind up into you, your fingers fly up to tug on the silver strands of his long hair.
The sting on his scalp makes Aemond lets out a strangled breath, and his thrusts deepen as he growls out, "You are beautiful." He enjoys the sound of your high-pitched whine in response, and his pride grows as he observes how fucked out you are already.
"I possess a considerable amount of desires," Aemond says in a hushed tone. "I want you. Your hand in marriage. I want to suffocate you with my dedication. Every inch of you."
You wish so greatly that you could exchange the same words, reassure him of your affections; but you’re too jaded, too caught up in Aemond. That fire inside of him burns with a flaming wrath, yet he is gold.
You can only think of one thing:
What an honor it is to be valued by him.
A stifled grunt escapes Aemond's chest as you grind your hips over his agonizing length, and he furrows his brows. The way your walls cling to his shaft and draw him in until his swollen, enraged tip is pressed firmly against your cervix has completely captured his attention. You're just so wet and tight, leaking all over his cock.
To bring you forward and press his lips against yours, Aemond’s large hand extends to the nape of your neck. Your lips passionately slide against his, and you might just die from the sensation.
“If I am a monster, it is because of the malice of man,” Aemond murmurs into your mouth. “It is only because of your love that I can be spared.”
And this is the moment you have no regrets.
Those in the kingdom made fun of you for selecting Aemond, a man built of barbed wire, equally as sharp and dangerous. How can you explain to them that it is the barbed wire that has protected you all this time?
His fingertips clench around your neck as you attempt to move on instinct, and all you can do is you scream out a pathetic "Aemond!" as you break free from the frantic kiss. “Gods, please. Don’t stop!”
“Keep begging, my love.” Aemond almost chuckles, his lips mouthing over the curve of your breast. "It suits you."
His fingers start to circle your clit and you gasp, clinging to him as his calloused thumb hooks against it and he continues to gently rock into you in excruciating pleasure.
You both gasp as the sensation of him being so completely inside of you, your choked exhale shuddering as they pass through your lips.
“Good girl,” Aemond purrs, his smirk predatory and devilish, made worse by his expression full of mirth. He’s so fixated on how your cunt is trying so valiantly to milk him for all that he is worth, focused on the way your eyes slam shut with pleasure and your jaw drops open. Before you can tell him how much you love him, he gently rolls his hips to lead you up and down his burning-hot length. He begins to place kisses along your jugular, the hot puffs of breath fanning across the skin there, his speed on your clit increasing.
“I’m so close!” you whimper, your hands trembling as they grip his shoulders. Aemond hum in acknowledgement, the corners of his slightly lips twitching upward.
“I am in your blood, in your veins, your psyche. Your entire being—body, senses, and divinity is mine. Can you feel it, Princess?”
“Yes!”
You’re about to cum, hanging right on the precipice of falling over the edge. The heat builds up in your belly, prepared to burst and dust you both with screamed moans and detonate explosive stars behind closed eyelids. You let out a broken cry of his name, urging him brush his mouth against your lips.
“You stole my heart, my love,” Aemond whispers. “Don’t dare give it back.”
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x y/n#aemond imagine#aemond smut#hotd x y/n#hotd smut#aemond x reader smut#hotd imagine#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon smut#millie’s works — 📓
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Twisted
Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader
Word Count: 600+
Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.
Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous
A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)
From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding.
Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.
Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?
Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened.
The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.”
The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.
Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad.
Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”
#vellicores writing event#lloyd hansen#step dad lloyd hansen#step dad!lloyd hansen#stepdad!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x fem!reader#lloyd hansen ficlet#lloyd hansen fic#lloyd hansen drabble#chris evans#the gray man
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Same as it was
Aegon II X (Prostitute Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 2432
Aegon Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Snake Banners by @arcielee
Caution Banner by @zaldritzosrose
Warnings:: dirty smut. There really isn't much plot lol. Oral (M & F Receiving) , Squirting kink, Overstim, cum play. Infidelity (technically).
A/N: This is my first attempt on Aegon and is based on some head cannons I have of him. I am totally open to any comments or suggestions about writing him.
"He's a damn usurper!" You whisper hushed to Marella.
Marella is your madame for lack of a better term.
"You're his favorite girl, and he has ordered you specifically. There is nothing I can do. " She grits her teeth and continues shuffling through dresses and holding them up against your body.
"I... I can't! When Queen Rhanyera inevitably comes to claim her throne, I'll be killed!" You bite at your fingernails, anxiety pumping through your body with such harshness you were afraid your knees would buckle.
"You place far too much importance upon yourself. You're a whore. They likely would just pass you off to someone else."
Your stomach turns at the thought. You don't mind working in the brothel. It feels safe. You have the madame and the other girls if something were to go wrong, but this, what Aegon is asking for, It's just too much.
"Why can't he just come here as he always has?" You plead with Marella desperate for her to understand your plight.
"Because he is a king at war. He can not just frolick into town and fuck a whore in his leisure time. He is being watched, and there is a bounty on his head!" Marella chooses a plain looking green dress that hugs your feminine curves. "Here put this on"
"NO! I'm not going!" You rip the dress from Marella's hands and toss it onto the bed. "If there is a bounty on his head and they come looking for that head while I am in his bed, what is to happen to me then?" You look at her expectantly with eyes wide. She couldn't possibly send you there knowing you will most likely be killed. Could she?
"You would most likely be killed. But if you do not do what he tells you to do, you could be killed right now." Marella picks the dress back up off the bed, shoving it harshly against your chest. "Die now or die later. That is your choice. King Aegon has made his choice, and that choice is to have you, up at the castle for him to call upon as he so pleases, I have grown to care for you over the years but not enough to cross the King! Now get dressed!"
You know she's right. Aegon wanted you badly enough that he sent two guards to escort you back to the keep. A place you knew you didn't belong. Queen Heleana is there. You have heard the stories of her generosity and kindness but how kind could she be to her husband's favorite whore?
Not to mention the ever so pious dowager queen, who no doubt would sooner set herself on fire then show any kindness to a whore who regularly services her married son.
"Why me?" You whimper to yourself as you drop the current brown dress you are wearing to swap it with the green one Marcella had chosen for you.
Marcella chuckles from behind you. "Never know with men. Sometimes they find that one thing they like and that's it. Whatever it is for Aegon, it seems you have it."
You roll your eyes and huff as you shake your head in disbelief. "Gods." You look up to the ceiling as soon as you have the dress on. Fighting back tears. He is going to get you killed, and you know exactly why, all because of that one thing you do in bed that he always claims is "so rare."
You straighten your back and shake out your limbs before you exit the room head held high, walking directly to the two men who had been sent to fetch you.
"Put this on." One of the men handed you a hooded cloak. You quickly put it on and lower your gaze. You were going to go with these men and hope that at some point in the future, there would be a chance for you to escape. One of the men grips your upper arm tightly as he leads you out of the brothel, and the three of you head up to the red keep. Each step bringing you closer and closer to your new life as the King's personal whore.
As soon as you breech the gate, the men move faster, and the man holding your arm pushes your head down further. Clearly, this was a mission that was to be completed without alerting other members of the royal family or council.
It is only once you are ushered into a chamber that you are finally allowed to lift your head. "Stay here." is all the man says before swiftly exiting the room.
That final bang of the heavy door slamming makes you flinch. "This is it, isn't it?" You hold your stomach feeling like the little bit of food you ate this morning might make a second appearance.
"I am going to be imprisoned in this room, as the King comes and goes as he wants." You push the hood back off of your head and look around the chamber.
It is the most beautiful room you have ever been in. Luxurious quilts are laying across the top of the large oak bed. A chaise placed strategically by the window a bookshelf to the left.
A small table and two chairs off to the side of the hearth and a wash basin in the corner of the room. If you had to make a choice in being locked up somewhere, this was probably one of the better options.
You take the cloak off and hang it over the back of one of the chairs and reach for the wine that was left on the table. You pour yourself a large cup and start to chug it, and as soon as you finish, move to pour yourself another as you hear the large door opening.
You close your eyes tight, you haven't seen him but you know it's him. That familiar chill crawls up your spine and the back of your neck, alerting you to his presence.
In truth, he is not a cruel man. As far as targaryens went, he was actually quite gentle. But he has a hunger that is incredibly hard to satiate. It's like he is empty and is desperate to fill the empty space with anything, sex, drink, food, anything he can get his hands on.
"How are you settling?" Aegon wastes no time at all quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses himself up against your back.
"Why am I here? You know you could always just send for me. " You feel him push your hair to one shoulder and start trailing soft kisses along your neck.
"Then I would have to await your arrival and hope you aren't busy with other customers." He gently nibbles up the side of your neck while sliding the flat palms of his hands up your stomach and over your breasts.
"This way, you're always right here when I need you." He presses himself tightly up against your ass. His hardness was evident through his trousers. "And I need you right now." He nips at the top of your shoulder, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.
"And if someone asks who I am? Why I am here? In such nice chambers?" He chuckles into the crook of your neck.
"No one will ask. I'm the king I do as I like. " He whispers sensually into the shell of your ear as he pulls your dress down off your shoulders. "You know what it is I want"
You know exactly what he wants and how he wants it. That is why you are his favorite. You slide the dress the rest of the way down your form, stepping out of it.
You turn towards him a lustful gleam in your eye as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. "Of course I do your grace".
He takes your head between his hands and kisses you like you are air, and he has been suffocating. The neediness radiates off of him in waves.
You push him back and chuckle as you walk toward the bed. He might be a king and a feared man out there in the land of westeros, but in here, in this room, he is a desperate wanton fool and has no qualms with displaying it. He follows on your heels reaching his hands out trying to get hold of you once again.
You crawl onto the bed on all fours as he excitedly tears at his clothes, desperate to remove them as quickly as possible.
You stay positioned on your knees on the bed waiting for him. You have done this so many times, you know exactly how to start.
He jumps into the bed and lays down flat, pumping himself to hardness while he waits for you. "C'mon, C'mere," He whines as he reaches his hand out towards you.
You can't help but giggle at his desperation as you lift your thigh up over his head and bring your heat just above his face.
"Oh, thank you, beautiful." He says as you smother him with your cunt just the way he likes it. He dives in lapping at your soft inside while flicking your nub with his finger. His other hand pushing at your back urging you to get to work.
The feeling is overwhelmingly good, sending shocks of pleasure down your legs with tingling in your toes. You lean forward and take his cock into your mouth as he grunts loudly into your heat.
"Yessss, that is it" He growls and rubs his entire face into your cunt jamming his tongue inside your body with the finesse of an extremely practiced partner.
You moan onto his cock your drool dripping down the sides and pooling amongst the short silver hairs at its base. He moves his hips up jamming his cock further down your throat.
You make sure to take it as far as you can, fighting the urge to gag as the heat in your stomach builds up to an incredibly compact tightness.
You roll your hips dragging your cunt along his face feeling the smile he presses against your folds. He is in his favorite place burried in the cunt of his favorite whore. He harshly takes your hips in his hands pushing you down further onto his face. Lesser men would suffocate, but Aegon could breath you in all day and remain upright and alert.
He sucks and licks at your clit with precision knowing exactly how to make you topple over the edge and as soon as you do he brings his fingers to your clit and vigorously rubs in quick circles overstimulating the nerve to get exactly what he wants.
When your legs clench tight and you gasp with his cock hanging out of your mouth he knows he is about to be rewarded with his favorite treat. He opens his mouth wide as you gush over his face like a fountain, and he attempts to catch every drop.
He had accidentally found out that you were capable of such things one night down at the brothel and that is how you became his favorite whore. You always found it comical when the other girls would tell you of the borderline torturous overstimulation he would put them through just to test if they would do the same thing.
Aegon laughs with glee as he pushes you off of him. You assume the next position placing your cheek flush against the quilt of the bed, leaning your ass up in the air.
"See? Fully trained. Why wouldn't I bring you up here?" He chuckles giddily to himself as he grips your hips, placing you directly in front of him while he slowly slides himself into you. He loves to watch. He is a visual man this much you had learned. He spreads your cheeks apart so he can see clearly as his cock slides in and out, your wetness collecting at the base.
"I swear it gets better every time" He speeds up his movements gripping your cheeks harder as he continues to watch himself fuck into you with a look of utter satisfaction on his face. "This cunt. Somehow its perfect, does just what I want"
"Yes your grace" You feed into his need to be respected, you had learned that quite sometime ago, he wants to dominate, feel a sense of power and control that he just does not have in his every day life.
He ruts into you harder hitting that sweet spot with accuracy. He's been fucking you for years he knows your insides, probably better then you do at this point.
He brings one hand down around to your clit and rubs against it with moderate pressure.
"One more" He barks out with strained desperation. "C'mon"
As if Aegon's mere voice could command your body, you found yourself spiraling toward another release.
"Yes, your grace, as you wish!" You moan as he drills down into you gasping for air and rubbing your pearl furiously as once, again he makes you see stars, quickly changing the motion of his hand from a circle to a vigorous rub the overstimulation making your legs shake.
"Give me it, Give me it!" He commands, slamming into you with such force the posts of the bed shake. Everything around you slows down as the buzzing in your ears grows louder, and with one final screech, you give him what he wants and splash all over his hand and the quilt beneath you.
He then brings his wet hand up to your hip to hold you in place as he nearly impales you while chasing his peak, he reaches his end quickly with a snarl and as he does he pulls out and releases himself all over your backside spreading it over your cheeks and enjoying the shimmer of your skin covered in his spend as he rides out his high.
Aegon collapses down onto the bed with a laugh as you turn back to look at him.
"This is why you're here. War is stressful." He chuckles. "I won't have time to travel to that damned brothel as many times as I am going to need you."
"Need me?" You move up the bed careful to avoid the wet mess you had just left.
He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Yes, I need you, and once I catch my breath, I think I'll need you again"
To be added to taglist click here
#aegon the second#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon x reader#king aegon#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen#aegon ii#tom glynn carney#jess fics
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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BUT I CAN’T STOP STARING IN THOSE EVIL EYES
title is based off a lyric in lady gaga’s MONSTER
my halloween night of horrors masterlist can be found here!
pairing: plaga leon s. kennedy x plaga f!reader
summary: while wandering through an ill kept factory, you and leon grow closer in unimaginable ways due to unforeseen circumstances
word count: 5,648
content: NSFW (minors + ageless blogs DNI you will be blocked!) minor dub-con (in the beginning), slightly rough leon, mind control, notes of voyuerism, fingering, male masturbation, boot humping, minor breast/nipple play, unprotected p in v, creampie, breeding, degradation, praise, petnames (baby, princess, sweetie) leon steps on you, reader is wearing a skirt
*some things to note: though saddler is willing leon and reader into having sex, they both want to sleep with each other of their own volition regardless of the plaga’s influence, it’s the circumstances surrounding it that makes them apprehensive
there are lines of dialogue from RE4R used in paragraphs 12, 14-15, 18, 23 & 39. i do not claim to own these lines or any media from Capcom
a/n: first time writing for leon so please be kind!!! i am just a simple mouse girl :( i thought it’d be interesting to write the plaga “overtaking” him and reader in a sense, watching his mood change drastically much like how it does in the OG RE 4 in this scene with ada (choking cw)
divider by @/benkeibear
You stare at the huge chunk of amber in front of you; it's pretty. The reflecting light gives it a soft orange hue, brightening the dull room it inhabits. After closer inspection, you notice what appears to be hundreds, if not thousands, of Las Plagas encased in the resin. You were almost too scared to be looking at them for so long, fearful that the parasites would jump out at you from their confinement once you crossed a certain threshold.
Cocking your head to the side, you think aloud, "I wonder if this is where they extract the plaga."
Leon, who's rummaging around the room looking for any spare supplies, pipes up, "Who knows? I certainly don't feel like waiting around to find out. Come on." He waves you over, walking toward the exit after determining that none of the scrap in the room was worth taking.
"Alright," you agree, beginning to move towards him.
Then, all of a sudden, your movements are halted, unable to continue forward. "Fuck, no no no,” you think to yourself. Leon looks behind his shoulder, noticing that you haven't moved from your position.
"What are you doing? Let's go." You can barely speak, clenching your teeth together as you force the words out.
"I can't fucking move." You demonstrate your lack of mobility as you attempt to force your body forward, but the most that happens is the slight twitching of your arm and legs.
"What?" Leon's about to stride over to you when the door opens behind him. He's quick on his feet, his gun in the air, aiming his pistol at the tall figure and a group of robed cultists that soon follow him into the room.
"Welcome, my children," he states as the two followers remove the hood of his purple robe, the rest filing around the two of you.
"I am Osmund Saddler. The speaker for our Lord."
Leon, obviously fed up with all the loony bullshit, shoots Saddler straight in the eye. "Tell someone who gives a shit."
Saddler reels back from the shot but doesn't die, staying hunched over due to the impact. "Foolish lambs," he scoffs. "Why do you deny grace?" The volume of his voice rises, and all at once, Leon keels over, taking a knee as he almost completely falls to the floor in front of you, now frozen in place while his gun falls from his hands.
You try to reach out to him, but your movements are stunted.
"Now, abandon your body." Your body is not your own.
"Obey, obey the voice of our lord," Saddler commands as your forced motions bring you closer to Leon. There's a ringing in your ears as he gives you orders; the noise is so piercing that you're ready to stuff your ears full of cotton just to make it stop.
Leon's now back on his feet, his veins turning black against his skin as his arm reaches out to you. His body trembles as he extends forward. You're compelled to move onward slowly, reaching down for Leon's pistol.
"Stop, please," you plead, your wrist swaying back and forth as the gun locks onto Leon. "No," you grit, resisting with everything you have while your arm continues to wobble. Tears stream down your face as you're forced to pull the trigger, shooting one of the cultists to Leon's side, watching them drop dead to the floor.
"Sweet child, do not resist." His commands turn into scolding. The ringing in your ears gets louder as your arm moves again. "Please," you wail into the open air, willing to give anything as long as it meant that he stayed alive. The trigger is pulled again, and the other masked figure drops to the ground.
Leon's face coils up, and his body jerks, trying to reach you, but to no avail.
"I'm sorry," you whisper as you pull the trigger for the final time, scrunching up your eyes, not wanting to witness his lifeless body drop to the floor. The gun clicks and falls in front of you while you collapse onto your knees, sobbing onto the floor beneath, your tears staining the dark concrete floors.
Leon is released from his own entrapment and rushes over to comfort you, placing both his hands on your shoulders. "Are you okay?"
It's funny, you think, in a twisted sort of way. You almost killed him, and here he was, asking if you were alright.
"Pray forgive these wicked sinners," Saddler exhales while shaking his head. Leon's about to lunge for his gun when you're both halted once more.
"Injecting one's blood with the plaga isn't the only way to diffuse it among the populous."
Both you and Leon are manipulated until you're standing in front of each other, his hand reaching out to grab at your hip.
"What are you doing?"
"It's not me, I-"
He gets cut off by Saddler. "The plaga can reproduce sexually as well as through implantation." And it's all of a sudden that you feel a certain heat growing inside you—desire, a sort of carnality—and if the crimson on Leon's cheeks is anything to go by, he's feeling it too. There's a certain glint in his eyes now, a hunger that wasn't there before. Both his and your irises turn a bright vermillion as the plaga fully takes control. It's overwhelming. All of your senses are heightened, now very much cognizant of Leon's hand on your hip, the warmth of his skin permeating through your skirt. All you want now is for him to bend you over and take you.
You shake your head in the hopes of clearing your mind. God, when did you start harboring such intense feelings for him like this? This can't be okay, can it? He saved your life. He's a government agent simply doing his job to rescue you from this hell hole. That's what these feelings are—just misplaced appreciation. You try to reason with yourself as the growing need between your legs calls more and more for your attention.
"What the hell's going on?" Your voice is harsh as it cuts through the air. Leon's grip tightens on your hip, almost as if he's holding himself back.
"Is it not obvious, sweet child? You two have perfect compatibility as sexual mates, and since you're both able to resist killing each other, I'll just have to change my line of thinking and make things easier for you."
"Don't be ridiculous," Leon grunts.
"Why deny it? It's quite clear that you're attracted to each other."
"I barely even needed to coax the plaga into doing anything."
As fucked up as this entire situation was, Saddler wasn't wrong, at least in regard to your side of things. You were intrigued by Leon from the moment he found you, rescuing you after being hog-tied and thrown into one of the wardrobes of an abandoned cabin. He was still incredibly handsome, even if you didn't trust him at first. From the subtle bounce of his soft ashen hair when he jogged to the bulge of his biceps whenever he slicked his fingers through the silky strands and how he was so protective over you, so kind. You could go on and on listing the things you found attractive about him. How he looked suplexing zealots, the slope of his nose bridge, his little smirk after roundhousing ganados, the thickness of his thighs, the swell of his **very** defined chest, and god, his ass. His cute, full-pert ass that you could just-
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
This isn't right. You shouldn't be thinking of him this way, but no matter how much you try to resist, you're always coaxed back into these feelings of sensuality. You'd be lying if you said you didn't think of him fucking you against one of the crumbling walls in the village, holding you so tightly against him while he tugs on your tits. Arousal pools in your panties as heat rushes to your face at the thought.
"Fuck," you murmur, and Leon looks over at you, his breath more labored than before.
"Submit your bodies and release yourself from fear!" Saddler booms, waving his staff around in the air. It's then that you feel Leon's hand underneath your skirt, cupping your mound through your tights, his other hand still gripping at your waist.
"Leon-" you say exasperatedly.
"I'm sorry, I just..." he leans into you, inhaling your scent. "I'm sorry." His lips press into the side of your neck, slowly moving against the sensitive skin. It's so gentle and kind, and if you close your eyes, you can almost pretend that you're somewhere else, not in a dusty room of an old factory, being coerced to have sex through the means of a parasite.
"You're so soft...smell so good," he mumbles into your ear. Even if you're forced to fuck in front of Saddler and his devotees, Leon at least wants his words of care and fondness to be private—to be yours.
You can't help but moan out loud at his ministrations on your neck, feeling your skin crawl with a newfound heat. Your nipples pebble in your bra, and how desperately you want his hands to be on your breasts, kneading them. You wrap your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into the smooth, pale tresses at his nape.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he confesses over and over. He knows this is wrong. He should have a stronger will than this. He shouldn't be sleeping with the hostage he was tasked with saving. This wasn't how it was supposed to go, if at all. He probably wouldn't have confronted his feelings in any other circumstances, seeing how wildly inappropriate they were. He would've rather taken you somewhere nice—maybe a fancy hotel—and do all the sappy, romantic shit you deserve—the candles, the music, the mood lighting. It'd be sweet and kind, but no. Instead, you get this, being made to breed like cattle. The only comfort he can offer is through his words, his mind trying to fight against the plaga, but you smell too good, your skin so supple and warm against his mouth; it's almost as if he can feel the blood pulsing through your jugular vein. He gently grazes his teeth over the area, biting and pulling the skin taught.
"Don't apologize. You feel good too," you exhale, pushing your chest against his.
"I shouldn't let this sick bastard have so much control over me, but god, you feel so good against me," he groans, worming his hand under the band of your tights and underwear. You loll your head back as his assault on your neck continues. He sucks the skin gently as the worn leather of his gloves makes its presence known against your mound. His finger swipes between your slit, gathering the wetness leaking from your entrance to rub soft circles on your clit.
"Christ, you're already so wet for me, baby," he groans against your neck, your breath hitching at his words.
"Oh, you like that, huh?" An amused tilt now present in his voice, the soft circles on your clit continuing as he speaks against your throat. "You like me calling you baby?"
"Yeah," you mewl, your hand reaching down to grip his forearm.
"That's it. Just focus on me making you feel good." Your cute noises cause blood to rush to his cock, making it stiffen in his pants. Your head rests against his chest as he continues to play with you.
"You want my fingers, baby?"
"Yes," you pant, pressing your face into the middle of his chest. He lets out a lighthearted chuckle, his digit circling your entrance before sinking into your warm cunt. "Oooh, you're so tight, sweetie. Squeezing my finger real nice."
"I can't wait til you're on my cock." he mumbles against your throat once again, smirking. His finger curls deep into your soaked pussy, thrusting in and out as you grind against his palm.
"Yes, yes, yes," you gasp, his lips resuming the suckling of your skin as he adds another finger, stuffing your cunt with their thickness, the leather of his gloves wet with your slick as it glides against your clit. You look down from his chest to see his hardened cock starting to poke through his utility pants. Your hand wriggling down to slowly palm him through the fabric, a soft moan rearing from his throat at your touch.
Through feeling him against your palm, he seems to be an impressive size, definitely girthy from what you can make out.
You slide your hand back and forth against the crotch of his pants, his hips lightly bucking into you as a grumbled "fuck" falls from his lips. He sounds so hot when he moans, and you want to hear more.
"I need you to come for me, sweetheart. I need your pussy on my cock so bad." He curls his fingers some more, hitting that soft, spongey spot that makes you see stars. A few more thrusts from his digits and nudges from his palm have you arching into him, his mouth swooping down to swallow your moans through a kiss. He's the only one that gets to hear you cum, despite the audience you both have.
He keeps his fingers stuffed in your cunt as you ride out your orgasm, the sensation of your pussy squeezing down on him making his head whirl in anticipation.
"That's it. That's a good girl," he murmurs, guiding you through the waves.
Despite having just came, you're still just as eager, if not more so, to palm him through his black cargos.
"Easy, easy. You'll have me soon enough," he coos in an attempt to pacify you, removing your hand from his erection while you whine and grumble in response to the loss of touch, wanting him to mount you already.
He guides you onto the floor, laying you flat on the chilled concrete. The cold seeps into your clothes and skin, causing you to shiver almost uncomfortably so as you arch your back, spreading your legs as far as they'll go in your tight skirt. You take to palming your tits through your top, desperate for any kind of prolonged pleasure.
"Someone's needy," he chuckles to himself while he looms over you, his broad shoulders casting a large shadow over your form.
"Come on, you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" He moves to remove both of his belts, unbuckling them and letting them drop to the floor. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest decision to leave himself so exposed, but neither of you could be bothered enough to care.
The next thing to come off was his shoulder holster, the leather straps meeting the other discarded materials on the floor. It's only after his confines are removed that he begins pleasuring himself, reveling in your position on the floor, legs spread deliciously while the rest of you becomes utterly debauched, your expression filled with nothing other than need and want.
You whine out a little, desperate for his touch even after the fact. He smirks while walking toward you, his heavy boots echoing throughout the room with loud thuds til he stops just short of your cunt and sneers. Something about him is different.
He plants his foot atop your mound, grinding the sole into your folds. There's no real force behind it, but it's oppressive and demeaning. He's not the same Leon. The Leon who told dumb jokes at every opportune moment, who ate multicolored herbs, both raw eggs and fish WHOLE, yet looked at you as if you were the crazy one for refusing, choosing not to believe him when he said they'd "mend your wounds." This was not the same Leon who pulled you aside after you ran off scared, giving you words of reassurance and encouragement just as he had throughout this whole endeavor. No, this Leon was more sinister.
Your whines and mewls get a little more pathetic, rolling your hips and grinding yourself on his boot in a desperate attempt for any friction that he'd give you—which wasn't much, but still, anything was better than nothing!
In the midst of your pouting, you catch Saddler's eye. His expression is blank, almost as if he were watching paint dry. His attendants were dismissed by this point, as they had no need to witness the impregnation take place. You can't help but stare at him, his eyes oddly captivating, unable to help but wonder what he thinks of this. Surely he’s the one controlling you both, but is this a last effort of sorts? Making two "subjects" fuck like rabbits just for the sake of spreading his message, his word, and his so-called "vision" Was sex something that he looked down on? Something shameful?
You're pulled out of your thoughts when Leon whistles at you. "Would you rather fuck him instead, princess?" He jeers in a mocking tone. You frown and furrow your brows, glaring at him as you deliver a bratty "no" in response.
"Then keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He sneers as he grinds his heel into you some more, swiping his foot from side to side, knocking the grooves into your clit. He laughs as you continuously mewl into the air, squeezing your tits through your clothes, begging for more attention. Instead of aiding you in your frustrated disposition, he decides to be a little crueler, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants. His head lolls back as he lets out a soft groan, the sound causing more arousal to flood in between your legs.
You moan, your eyes scanning his features—the bob of his Adam's apple, the softness of his jaw, the way his teeth dig into the plush of his bottom lip.
Deciding to prod further, he pulls out his leaking cock from his pants, and you can't help the gasp that escapes you at the sight. He has an adorable ash-blonde happy trail running down his navel that fans into darker, coarse curls at the base of his cock. It has a slight left curve to it and a pretty pink tip. The look of it is tantalizing and mouth-watering. Your mind is flooded with every memory you’ve had of wanting Leon to fuck you silly during this godforsaken nightmare. Now you have a visual to go along with your many fantasies—a pretty cock for an equally pretty man.
You expected him to be in a hurry to fuck you, but he does something unexpected. He keeps his foot on your cunt. You attempt to sit up, your abdomen contracting as you begin to move upward, when he plants his boot on your chest instead, right on your sternum, effectively pushing you flat on your back again.
"Did I give you permission to move?" He stares, cocking his head and quirking a brow, looking down at you as if he were scolding a misbehaving puppy. His carmine irises meet yours as you attempt to shove off his foot by his ankle, though soon finding it pointless as the boot remains firm and steady against you.
You shake your head with a petulant "no," grumbling as his foot takes hold of your chest, pressing lightly on your rib cage, making it somewhat difficult to breathe.
"Then don't get greedy," he chastises, moving his boot back to its previous position on your cunt, leaving a muddy footprint in its wake. Instead of providing you with the friction you wanted, his limb now lays idle against you.
You frown at the brown stain left on your top, glaring at him once more. "You ruined my shirt!"
"I'll tell you what: when this is all said and done, I'll get you a new top. How bout that princess?"
You roll your eyes, grumbling as his hand moves toward his mouth, yanking off his fingerless gloves with his teeth and tossing them among the pile of his other forgotten items.
Warm palms slither down his torso, making their way to his cock, where he squeezes the base, shaking it in the air a tad, teasing you with it.
It's well-known at this point how much you desire him. The plaga floods both of you with nothing but thoughts of you two fucking each other. He watches you eye his cock thoroughly, gnawing at your bottom lip with how badly you wanted him to fill you up.
He languidly begins to pump his hand up and down, precum leaking from his pretty tip all the way down his shaft, creating all the slip he needs. You start to buck your hips against his boot, desperate for your own pleasure, which he still refuses to give you. His hand continues to move along his cock; the rough callouses on his palm are a stark contrast to the glisten of his slick-covered dick.
You huff and puff as he continues to jerk off, growing tired of being teased and tormented. His thumb glides along the slit of his cock head, causing his hips to buck and shudder. You were like a rabbit on a treadmill, his cock being the carrot on the string you were being teased with, so close yet so far...
"Leon, you're being mean," you scowl, feeling grumpy and grouchy, tired of his damn games, your panties soaked through with your arousal, craving any sort of attention.
"Mean?" he asks, pressing his foot further into you, pumping himself a smidgen faster while his pectoral muscle begins to bounce with his quickened pace.
"If I were mean, I'd make you cum just like this while you watch me jack off."
"And since you want to act like such a little brat, maybe that's exactly what I'll do." He speeds up again, twirling his wrist as he fucks his fist, his grunts and groans filling the air among your whines.
"No, no, no, no," you cry, watching him buck into his hand as the slick makes his cock even more slippery.
A pink hue floods his cheeks as heat builds in his body, sweat gathering on the threads of his clothes.
"No?" he mocks with a feigned pout. "You want my cock that badly, huh? Want it to fill you up? Stuff you full?"
"Mhm," you nod incessantly, heat flooding your own face as well, the arousal so overwhelming that you feel as if you’ll burst.
"Why don't you beg for it? Beg for my cock."
You look at him apprehensively. Was he really gonna make you beg for him like a cock-hungry fool?
"I'm not joking about finishing you off with my boot. You'll get no dick and no cum." His efforts hastened, his hips twitching every so often. He’s serious, and so are you, so despite your "strong-willed bratty nature," you beg and you plead for his cock like a good girl.
"Please gimme your cock, Leon. Need it so bad. Need you to fuck me dumb; turn my brain into mush."
"I think you can do better than that princess," he smirks down at you, huffing slightly from the continued pleasure.
Your words turn into a slew of pleas and jumbled moans varying from saying you'll "die without his dick," "how badly you need it," and "how desperate you are for it," all of which boil down to you whining please over and over and over. When he's finally decided that you've made your case, he staves off his release, gripping the base of his cock so as not to finish right in his hand.
He drops to his knees, grabbing and pulling you towards him by your hips, your thighs settling on either side of his while he hovers over you. All his movements are quick and hasty in nature as he hikes up the bottom of your skirt over your pelvis, allowing you to spread your legs further and welcome him into the warmth between your thighs.
He stares down at your black tights below him, now transparent enough to see through to your pale-colored underwear from the fabric being stretched so far. He wastes no time in grabbing the crotch of your tights at the seam and effectively tearing a huge hole in them, his biceps bulging as he rips the fabric from your body. He stares down at the cute design of your panties as your tights lay in shreds against your leg, his eyes settling on the front of the fabric, the wet splotch soaking through from your previous orgasm.
He moves his hand over to your cunt, running his middle and ring fingers through your slit. He settles on your clit, rubbing the sticky fabric against you as he swirls the bundle of nerves in slow circles.
"I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I'm surprised that I held out as long as I did without fucking you."
"Leon," you groan. "No more… I wanna feel you, please," you mumble, reaching out to him as a final stand to get what you desperately crave.
He finally gives in, tugging down the waistband of his pants, landing on the swell of his thighs and below the curve of his ass, exposing the stretch marks that litter his hips and upper thighs.
"See something you like, princess?" he teases, pumping his cock a few times in preparation.
"Mhm, mhm," you nod eagerly as he begins to move toward you. Luckily, your panties are spared from his strength as he chooses to simply pull them aside instead of tearing them apart. He mumbles a grumbly "fuck" as he gets a look at your sweet cunt for the first time. The hair covering your mound shines as your arousal spreads throughout your folds. He doesn’t stop himself from running a finger in between the seam of your pussy, gathering the slick on the pad of his digit and sticking it in his mouth, groaning at the taste of your sweetness.
"Delicious," he mutters as he lays his cock against the warm heat of your sex, giving you a closer look at just how big he is.
He lines himself up at your entrance, and without so much as a warning, he thrusts into you down to the base. You arch into him, your breasts pressing into his chest as your back curves in his direction, a hearty moan coming from both of you. He stretches you out better than in your fantasies, your warm, wet walls clenching down on him as he twitches inside.
"Let's take care of this, yeah?" He asks, lifting your upper half into the air and placing you on your elbows. He lifts your top over the peak of your breasts, ogling the sight of your tits filling out your bra, trapped within their confinement, before he's reaching behind you to fumble with the clasp of the garment. A part of you is amused while watching him struggle, but it's not long after that the cups are falling from your body, your breasts free to Leon’s eyes and the open air as he pulls the straps down your shoulders, flinging the undergarment toward the pile of other forgotten items. He decides to keep your shirt on, enjoying the disheveled, fucked-out look you have with your clothes half on and half off, letting the top stay wrinkled above your tits.
"Perfect," he mumbles, moving his head toward your chest to mouth at it, planting open-mouth kisses along the swell of your breast as his hips begin to roll languidly. He gives you a few slow strokes, just to get acquainted with each other's bodies, before it quickly turns into a hurried fucking.
His hips knock into yours in quick succession, his girth smoothing over every ridge and groove in your tight cunt, leaving you panting into the air as he grunts and groans against your breast. His body pressed so tightly against yours.
His lips find your nipple, his tongue swirling around the areola before pulling the nub into his mouth. The roll of his hips and the suckling of your nipple add to your growing pleasure. You buck your hips in tandem with his, desperate to feel every bit of pleasure you can.
"So greedy, huh, princess? Just need your cute cunt, fucked huh? Anything goes as long as you feel good, right?"
You whine, clenching down on him, squeezing his cock tight as he fucks you thoroughly. He pulls away from your chest, grabbing your hips tight in his grasp, his fingers digging deep into your skin.
"God, you’re perfect for me," he mumbles, leaning back so he's standing straight on his knees, his hands pulling you down on his cock as he brutally thrusts back into you. "So perfect for me to breed." You swear you can see a glint in his eyes as he says that, and your pussy pulsates around him even more.
"You like that, huh?" he teases, punctuating every word in the sentence with a brutal thrust. "You like the thought of being all mine? being claimed by me? Me fucking my kids into you? Knocking you up?"
You mewl and wail, nodding and gasping and heaving; the only thing you care about at this moment is him fucking you full of his seed.
The snap of his hips continues to get quicker, your soft breasts bouncing so pretty as you lay beneath him, your worn and fucked-out expression giving him nothing but joy. His rhythm gets so quick that he manages to slip out of your vice-like grip, causing a low and extended whine to draw out from your lips. He chuckles, enjoying how desperate you are for his body, and leans himself into you once more while he guides his cock back into you, his thrusts regaining their previous speed.
His hand pushes one of your thighs toward your chest, rolling his hips deeper so he can more easily hit the spot that makes your eyes cross, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter as he fucks into you with more vigor. You can’t stop your hands from wandering as you grab the plush of his ass, squeezing the fat while you writhe underneath him. You pant into his mouth, trying to signal him for a kiss, to which he happily obliges, meeting your lips with his as he continues to drive you further and further to the edge.
"Gonna cum for me, princess?"
"Gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?"
"Want it so bad, please?" You moan, sneaking your hand down to the front of your body and rubbing quick circles to your clit.
"Go ahead, princess, cum for me," he mumbles, nestling his head in the crux of your neck, sucking on your pulse point. As his hips continue to thrust into you, you arch intensely into him, moaning loudly as you reach your climax, your eyes rolling into the recesses of your mind as your nails claw into the meat of his ass, leaving pretty, red crescent-shaped divots in his porcelain skin.
You run your hand through his silky blonde strands as you position yourself next to his ear. "Cum with me, Leon," you mutter, still reeling from the aftereffects of your high, the additional thrusting adding to the lingering pleasure still felt. "Cum in me, please. Wanna be stuffed full of you." You lick a stripe up his neck, the salt from his sweat lingering on your tastebuds.
It's a few short and sloppy thrusts later that he's grunting loudly into your skin while he cums, ropes of his seed traveling to your womb.
The door can be heard shutting behind you as Saddler makes his exit, Leon's hips slowing to a full stop once he’s left. With the impregnation going through, he no longer needs to bother himself with whatever the two of you do from here on out.
It’s a few minutes later that the both of you begin to feel normal again, or as normal as you can be given the dire situation. It doesn’t take long for Leon to recover, his baby blues greeting you once more as he snaps to attention, getting himself situated as he puts on his gear and adjusts his clothes, keeping a watchful eye on you as you start to do the same, picking up your bra from his things on the floor.
After getting dressed, he’s immediately at your side. "I'm so sorry. I-"
You cut him off with a finger placed on his lips and a shake of your head. Your face is tired and weary, and your voice a little strained as you tell him, "It's alright."
He’s not willing to argue with you on the ethics of what went down, at least not here, so he decides to put off the conversation til you’re both safe back home, hopefully having figured out some sort of plan by then.
"Are you good enough to move? We shouldn't linger around."
You nod, moving to fully take off your tights before making your departure, seeing as you have no more use for the tattered fabric. The torn material catches his eye, causing embarrassment to rise throughout his face, his cheeks taking on the same rosy hue as before.
"I'll make good on my word, I promise. I’ll get you a new shirt and some tights when we get back. For now…" He walks towards the exit. "We need to get rid of these damn things," he says, pointing to his chest. He checks his jammed gun, ejecting the magazine and resetting the casing before gesturing you over toward him, readying the weapon in front of him before the two of you begin to make your way out of the factory.
Needless to say, this would NOT be going in his incident report.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s. kennedy x reader#leon s. kennedy smut#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil 4 x reader#resident evil 4 smut#x reader#x reader smut#smut#✰ミ angel writes#✰ミ angel’s halloween night of horrors
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The Drunk Dial
W.C.- 3.8 k
a/n; i know that this is extremely shitty
------
Alessia Russo hated you. You would go as far as to say that she despised you. You don’t know when it started, but it’s been one of the only constants in your life ever since. Your parents divorce? Meh, she couldn’t give a damn. You break your arm? Good going trying to get her to sign your cast. You get called up? Ugh tell someone who cares.
It wasn’t like you didn’t try to become friends with the blonde, it was just that she rejected your every advance. In fact that’s all you did the first year or so, until you realized it was futile of you to even try. Ever since the two of you had been living in disharmony, arguing with the other every chance you got.
That’s why you’re so confused when you hear the voicemail she left you the night before as you’re walking to training. The slurred words quickly makes the confused look disappear, a smirk replacing it rapidly as you realize the ammunition you now have.
The girls look on in confusion as you basically skip your way into the meeting room, eyes scanning for the blonde head of hair you’d gotten used to seeing daily over the last few weeks. When you inevitably don’t see her, you take a seat closer to the door than you usually would.
“Oi, Y/n you’re in my seat!” Katie whisper shouts as she takes the seat right beside you, wanting her favorite seat back.
“Tough luck Katie, come earlier next time” You tease, adding an overdramatic wink at the end of the sentence to emphasize. You’re not even mad when the older girl pushes harshly at your shoulder, in too good of a mood to have it be dampened by anyone.
The meeting finishes as quickly as it had started, Alessia not appearing until the meeting itself had concluded and people had started to file out the door. Not you though, you stayed right where you’d taken your seat 20 minutes before.
Your humorous glare didn’t even falter as you felt the harsh one coming from the girl with baby blue eyes, who’d coincidentally thrown herself into the seat opposite of you. Jonas looks at Alessia expectedly as the blonde girl slowly lowers her sunglasses, the tall man expecting an apology from the obviously hungover girl.
“I’m so sorry for being late Jonas” The gaffer looks on in slight disbelief before sighing loudly.
“It’s okay, just don’t let it happen again” He fixes her with a pointed look, quickly disappearing from the enclosed space with Alessia nodding vigorously.
“Can I get you anything Russo? Water? Smelling salts? An alibi for why you’re late?” The teasing tone in your voice is almost as prominent as the striker's headache, the headache that makes her feel like her head is splitting.
“No but you could fuck right off!” Alessia rests her forehead on the cool surface of the table in an attempt at easing her pounding headache. She runs her hands over her sloppily tied hair, the bun she’d hastily thrown her golden locks into quickly falling apart.
“Ooohh, that stings.” Your hand comes up to cover your heart, like the women in those renaissance paintings. “Not the words, but the cloud of vodka that accompanies them” Your teasing continues even after she gives you the finger.
“Fuck you!” Alessia groans out through clenched teeth. With a response as quick as light, you counter.
“Oh you wish” You’re able to see the disgusted expression on her face from miles away, but strangely you also see the slight rosiness of her cheeks.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I went out with some old UNC friends last night” Your eyebrows furrow at her explanation, she doesn’t owe you one.
“Yeah, then you thought ‘Oh, I should call Y/n at 3 am’” The smirk on your face widens exponentially as Alessia lifts her face from the table, confusion on every corner of her expression.
“Really, yeah cause the first thing I do when I’m having fun is think abou-” Her sweet accented voice is cut off by her own, only the latter is slurred and barely audible.
“Y/n Y/l/n I’m ringing you because…what was it?” Alessia’s giggle on the recording of her voice cuts off her next words, “You’re probably asleep but you’re pretty…I don’t even know” The recording is cut off with the sound of someone shouting for shots. Alessia’s face is beet red by now, expressing every horrified thought running through her pretty head.
“The drunk dial. So much subtext. So much intrigue. So much booty call implication.” You’re oh so satisfied with yourself as Alessia opens her mouth to respond, but ultimately doesn’t. The chair bounces off the floor as the blonde legs it out the door, your laughter providing a back track.
The loud clicking of cleats against the floor catches your attention, and when Gio’s head pops into the room from the doorway.
“What happened with Less?” The younger girl questions, having seen Alessia running to the locker room only moments before.
“Russo drunk dialed me! After years of hating me, she called me drunk last night and I got the voicemail to prove it.” Gio’s expression turns from neutral to worried faster than a lightswitch turns a lamp on.
“The drunk dial?! Ohhhh this can’t be good!” Now it’s your turn to be confused, the girl in front of you extremely worried.
“Hey, it’s no biggie. We tease each other all the time, she hates me” You explain apprehensively, not wanting to make the girl more worried.
“That’s the point! What can she do when you hold all the cards? It’s like when two people see each other naked in sitcoms, the balance shifts.” The girl in front of you grabs your shoulder wildly, as to implicate exactly how important it is that you understand.
“So you’re telling me I need to show Russo the lady parts?” Your smile indicates that you’re joking, and Gio shoves your shoulder telling you to go and get ready for training. Still, the talk with the younger woman sticks in your mind throughout practice, especially when Alessia can’t look you in the eyes and when she doesn’t tackle you as hard as usual.
Eventually when practice ends you all file into the cafeteria for lunch, and you end up in line right behind the blue eyed beauty. The blonde avoids your every attempt at meeting her eyes and starting a conversation, not giving you her usual snide remarks. You’re worried now, her snide remarks usually hurting you but in a good way.
“Russo, once when I was out at the pub with the team I hit on a dude who I thought was a chick.” Her sky blue eyes meet yours for the first time since that morning, tens of different emotions swirling around in them.
“Why are you telling me this?” She questions.
“Well it’s to tell you that no one acts like themself when they’re drunk, I wouldn’t think about flirting with a dude sober. Sooo…” You answer her confidently, that confidence disappearing when she gives you a dirty look.
“Fuck off Y/l/n” Her voice is more venomous than a black mamba, and you have to hide the slightly shocked expression from your teammates who all look on in confusion at the interaction.
After getting your food, you make your way to where Gio is sitting in a conversation with Kathrine. The chair thuds as you drop down into it and you effectively pull Gio’s attention away from her best friend, the girl looking at you with a knowing smile.
“You were right, it’s all awkward now and she won’t even insult me.” You throw your hands up into the air as Kathrine looks on in confusion.
“Wait, let’s hear that first part again” Gio demands with a satisfied smile. You sigh, knowing that this was the only way for you to get her to help you.
“You were right.”
“And just one more time for good measure” You fix the brunette with a slight glare before once again telling her that she was right. “Oh it’s like music to my ears, now the only way to get everything back to normal is for you to even the score.” Gio tells you, Kathrine giving up on trying to understand what you were talking about.
“I have to show Russo my bits?” This time, unlike the other, you’re completely serious. Gio slaps her hand on her forehead at you as she tries to explain what she means to you.
“No, you have to drunk dial her! Have you ever acted drunk before?” The girl questions curiously, looking at you expectantly.
“No I’m not drunk, seriously I’m not drunk.” You slur your words painfully, swaying slightly in your seat to give it a realer look. Gio winces at the horrid performance, knowing that she would have to get you drunk for her plan to work.
“That was horrible, I’ll go home with you after the weight session and we’ll practice, okay?” You nod in response before digging into your food.
—-
After another rather awkward training session with the blue eyed girl, you find yourself in your apartment with your young companion who’s trying to coach you on how to act drunker than you are.
As Gio pours you another shot of the clear alcoholic beverage, you can’t help but wince slightly at the burning sensation at the back of your throat from previous shots.
“Bottoms up” The girl tells you playfully as you throw the liquid courage down the back of your throat. “Now, try again. Let’s see your drunk impression.” You imitate an old phone as you make beeping noises.
“Wassup Russo, your call was a nice surprise so I decided to give you a ring to thank you for it” The slurring words don’t help you in the slightest as Gio once again looks on in disgust.
“No, not like that, come on!” The young girl explains.
“Gio, I love you and all, but to be honest you’re a horrible drinking buddy.” You can see the girl's expression change drastically as she picks up the bottle of alcohol. Looking on in shock, you see how the brunette chugs the alcohol directly from the bottle.
“I thought you didn’t drink” You express, Gio looking at you like you’re crazy.
“I don’t, but it’s all for the plot. The things I do for you my friend, the things I do for you” Gio pours two shots for you both to take.
What follows is a night full of drinking with one of your best friends, and one very long very detailed call to your nemesis…
—-
The rude beeping of your alarm going off for the tenth time makes you groan, your head pounding viciously in protest of the light coming in through the blinds and directly into your eyes. Your back aches dully as you feel the hard floor beneath you, looking up to the couch you see Gio’s sleeping form resting all over it.
Crawling over to the girl, you slap her leg hard to wake her up from slumber. The girl wakes with a slight yell as she sees you lying on the floor, questioning where she was.
“What happened last night?” You ask, running your hand over your face, the apartment in shambles with empty bottles strewn around like it would after a high school rager. The young girl shakes her pounding head before perking up again.
“Did you call Less last night?!” You pick your phone up with a rapid pace, looking at your outgoing calls.
“One outgoing call to Russo, and one outgoing call to Kimmy…oh fuck me, that’s not good” You tell the girl, who nods with wide eyes nearly bursting out in laughter at your terrified expression.
“Oh fuck, oh shit, look at the time! We’re so fucked!” You scrambled up from your place on the floor, rushing into your bedroom to gather some new, not alcohol drenched clothes for you and Gio. Throwing the clothes on the youngster, you tell her to hurry up and put them on before you’re even later than needed.
You’re both out the door in record time, slipping the pairs of sunglasses you always kept with you over your eyes to block out the light even more.
Pulling up to training, the two of you rush out of the car and into the building. The locker room is nearly empty by the time you reach it, the only people there being the only two in the whole world that you didn’t want to see at that moment. Kim raises her brow at the door slamming open and as you look into her eyes, you see the disapproving look that’s settled there. When Gio runs into your back only moments later, it only becomes worse.
You rush to your cubby, located only meters away from Alessia’s, Alessia who looks at you with a satisfied smirk on her face. The stupid smirk entices you, and you wonder what you possibly could have said to get her to look at you like that.
Pulling your shirt off, you don’t notice her Alessia’s eyes follow the movement, her eyes locking onto the shaped abs and the ridges that appear on your arms as you struggle to get the shirt off. Just because you don’t notice doesn’t mean that Gio doesn’t, she smirks at the obvious attraction Alessia holds for you.
After getting your training clothes on, you make your way to the door where your skipper is waiting for you. She holds the door open for you before slinging her arm around your waist, you bringing your arm up and around her shoulders.
“Did you have fun last night?” The older woman asks you, your eyes widening slightly in surprise at her question.
“If I’m honest, I can’t even remember most of last night.” Your free hand comes up to rub at the back of your neck, the door behind you opening up yet again.
“Well, next time you and Gio decide to have a night full of drinking, please make sure that you dial Alessia’s number right away instead of calling me, okay?” Your cheeks darken exponentially at the blondes words, the woman a mentor to you.
“I’m so sorry Kimmy.” She smiles up at you in response, patting your stomach lightly before breaking away from you.
Back in the locker room Alessia is getting ready to get out of the locker room, that is before she hears Gio call her name.
“Alessia, I can see the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching you.” The shorter girl keeps her voice low, like she’s talking to a scared animal.
“What are you talking about?” The blonde questions, her eyes betraying her real feelings as the love shines through the apparent hatred.
“I’m talking about you and Y/n, listen I know that you hate her or whatever but the eyes never lie chica, the eyes never lie” And with that, Gio walks out of the room, leaving a stunned Alessia Russo behind.
—-
Only days later, it’s time for an away game and as you settle into your seat on the bus you can’t help but think about your blue eyed teammate. Staring out the window, you get startled out of your thoughts by a body flopping into the seat beside you. Looking to your left, you see the person you least expected to sit beside you.
Her ocean-like eyes look into your own for a second before she stares back towards the front of the bus. When she starts to talk, she does so in a whisper that barely gets heard over the bustle of the bus.
“So, you think I’m pretty huh?” She leans into your body slightly, her minty breath wafting over the side of your face. The cool mint contrasts the hot nature of your tomato red face, wide eyes scanning her side profile nervously.
“What? I’ve never said that!” Your voice comes out shaky and unsure as your eyes flit around the bus, now it’s Alessia’s turn to study you.
“Oh, so you don’t deny that I’m pretty?” She teases, your face becoming even more red than before if that was possible. The sputtering coming from your throat doesn’t help your case as you choke on your spit.
Alessia pulls up her phone to play the voicemail you’d left her only days before, the slurred voice on the recording obviously yours as it was your turn to be embarrassed.
“Hey Ruse-Cruise, I was just calling to tell you that you're so pretty. I can’t believe that you’re real, you always look like a fucking goddess and I’m so jealous that I can’t call you mine. Yeah, sober me is gonna hate myself for that but I don’t care. Kiss Kiss!” If you could, you would throw yourself off a cliff.
Pulling your hoodie up and over your cartoonishly red face, you wish for the ground to swallow you whole or at least get Alessia to move away from you. And after a bit, it seems like your prayers are answered because Alessia moves over to sit beside Lotte and Gio moves into the spot Alessia had occupied only moments before.
“Gio, kill me” You plead to the younger girl, who looks on in part amusement and part concern.
“That bad, huh?” Your head drops down onto her shoulder and you hum in agreement. “It’ll be alright, don’t you worry.” The younger girl strokes your back to comfort you, catching the eye of her partner in crime and nodding. The plan had to be set in motion.
—-
Ever since you had heard that godforsaken voicemail, you had been ignoring the older girl who it had been sent to. The only time you actually gave her any semblance of attention was during training or games, and even then it was only a second of eye contact or a quick word.
The striker's friends had even started to notice the effect your absence had on her, the girl much more frustrated and closed off than normal. It had gotten so bad that her performance on the pitch was worsening slightly. Something had to be done, and fast.
Just to their luck, the two matchmakers had created a plan that was sure to work.
When Gio comes running for you after training one day, her worried expression fools you just the right amount and as she runs away in the opposite direction you were going in, you just had to follow her.
What you didn’t expect was to be pushed into a storage closet only moments after arriving to where Gio had stopped, another body being pushed into you seconds later before the telltale sound of the lock clicking shut sounds throughout the cramped space.
The person leaning against you soon jumps away from you, a voice sounding from the other side of the door.
“I don’t care how you do it, but the two of you need to make up. Only then will you be let out.” The scowl on your face widens at the smugness in Gio’s voice and your fist pounds at the door viciously as you scream and yell for them to open the damn door.
In your attempts to get the girls on the other side to open the door for you, you don’t notice how Alessia starts to panic nor do you notice how she’s now on the ground.
“Y/n shut up!” Her tone is harsh as you continue to bang your fist on the door. “No seriously Y/n, shut up!” The way Alessia speaks has you looking towards her, seeing the dark silhouette of her body sitting on the floor.
“I don’t like tight spaces” She whispers into your ear after you’ve dropped down beside her, taking her hand in your own, you don’t have the stomach to tell her that her death grip is cutting off all your circulation.
“Hey, Russo, how can I help you? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me how” The free hand caresses her shin in what’s supposed to be a comforting action. All the years of supposed hate disappears when she looks up at you with tearfilled eyes, begging you to do something.
“I don’t care what you do, just distract me please” She begs. The idea that pops into your head will probably make her hate you even more, but alas it’s the only way to distract her.
“Fuck it” You lean in closer to her, the fact that she isn’t pushing you away is definitely a good sign.
“Can I kiss you?” You whisper against her lips, in place of a response she leans in slightly and presses her soft lips against your own.
The only way to describe her lips was that they were heavenly, and definitely distracting. They move slowly, testing the waters before diving in. Without breaking the seal of your lips, the forward slowly moves over into your lap, her hands tasseling in your locks whilst yours settle comfortably on her hips. The bruising grip of your fingers doesn’t let up even after the blonde pulls away from the kiss.
She twirls your hair between her long, perfectly manicured fingers and her intense gaze settles on your face, eyes flitting over it like she’s trying to commit it to memory. Your thumbs find their way under the hem of her shirt, stroking the skin softly.
“I’m sorry” She speaks up quietly.
“What could you possibly be sorry for, pretty girl?”
“The way I’ve treated you, I couldn’t even tell you why I did it.” Alessia explains, her fingers caressing your cheek sweetly. You lean into her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her palm before speaking.
“Eh, that’s all in the past, how about we make some positive memories to replace the old ones huh?” You whisper back, pulling the shorter girl in for another kiss.
“Hey, Gio! Can we come out now? We’ve made up” Alessia’s cheeks darken slightly at the particular choice of words. You two stand up as the door gets unlocked and opened, letting Alessia exit first, you soon lunge at the brazilian who’d locked you in. Pulling her into a headlock, you hear the sweet sound of Alessia’s laughter and you can’t help but laugh yourself.
Let’s just say, Alessia Russo doesn’t hate you anymore, the kisses you share deep into the night a sure indication of that…
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✨innocence✨
2019 quackity X reader
-
“Can we try something?”
smut warning
Alex had invited you over to his house for the first time as you two had just started dating. He was giddy as he waited for you. His mom told him you where at the door and a wave of nervousness hit him. he let you in and introduced you to a few people in the household.
After that you to went upstairs. “Sorry if the beds uncomfortable or anything.” He somewhat mumbled under his breath, “It’s okay, I don’t care.” You smiled kissing his cheek. He felt like he absolutely lost it when you did that. He was a blushing mess as he sat on the bed with you turning on some TV.
you two slowly but surely started getting more comfortable and started cuddling, at this point anything playing on the TV was ignored.
As you draped a leg over Alex and he held your waist you couldn’t help yourself from feeling more aroused and he did to. He looked at you leaning in.
“Can i kiss you?” He asked and you nodded somewhat eagerly as you pressed your lips on his cupping his face as he placed a hand on your thigh.
“Your lips are soft.” He whispered through the kiss, you giggled softly to yourself. “You taste nice” You’d admit, and he’d kiss you more.
it quickly led to a make out session. Heavy breathing, hand placement and small grinding motions on each other. “C-Can we try something?” He asked panting. You’d nod and he’d unbuckle your belt and slide it off along with your jeans. He would slide your panties off slowly and look at your went pussy.
“Jesus christ..” He mumbled before rubbing your clit making you whimper in pleasure. “C-Can I…let me just..” He spoke sticking a finger inside of you making you moan softly.
“Don’t get to loud my parents are down stairs and this bed is..creaking,” he spoke softly and turned up the TV. He stuck two fingers inside of you and moved vastly.
you held back moans, “Is this right? do you like it?” He asked, his erection forming in his pants. “Yes! Yes your doing so good..!” you whimpered arching your back and grinding on his fingers.
You had to put a pillow over your mouth to cover the moaning noises. He leaned down and slowly starting eating you out along with fingering you.
with each stroke of his tongue you felt like you were going absolutely dumb. “A-Alex!” I moaned leaning my head back and placing a hand on his head gripping his hair.
you felt yourself getting closer to a climax, your legs shaking and gripping onto his head and the pillow as a attempt to be quiet but the bed was shaking like crazy.
As you finished it felt like heaven, “Mmm..Alexxx~~!! Jesus- your so good with your tongue..~” I spoke and he giggled softly before continuing to eat me out.
he took his fingers out of my as my body relaxed, “Could you maybe help me out?” He mumbled pointing to his boner, You’d nod.
“One more thing,” He spoke “Do it with your shirt off please..it’s so much hotter,” He’d admit as your took your bra and shirt off.
“Jesus fuck..” he’d stare “Can I?”
you nod and he’d cup on and squeeze your nipple making a soft moan leave your mouth. Your moans and whimpers were like heaven to him, they were like addiction.
He’d take his shirt off and slip his boxers and jeans down. “I’ve never really done this before..” you’d admit watching pre come leak from his hard cock as he used it as a type of lube.
“Yeah that was my first time doing anything with a women..uh..just..here.” He’d grab your hand and position you as he let out a sigh of relief. “Up and down.” He’d say as you started stroking him.
“Like this?” You’d as curiously, he’d lean his head back on the wall and moan, “Yes..ohmygod..faster..”
“Your doing so good..” he’d say, “God damn, faster..” He’d whimper.
you would go faster and watch as he bucked his hips into your hand, “Rub your thumb over my tip.” He’d moan as you follow his order “Good girl just like that.”
“Am I doing good?” You’d ask. “So good..god it feels better when you do it” He spoke. He’d cover his mouth and lean his head back as he finished. His come covering your hand. he was panting and catching his breath, “I need you to suck my dick..i need you to,” He whispered and you’d nod getting on your knees. You’d put his tip in your mouth, you’ve never done this before.
soft moans left his mouth, you’d lick on his tip somewhat scared you had to shove all that down your throat. “sorry.” He’d say and you where confused until he grabbed you by the hair and pushed you head down, a loud moan escaped his lips and he’d roll his eyes back. He’d grip your hair helping you.
tears dripped down your face as you’d whimper on his cock. “God damn you look so hot crying over my cock.” He’d say face fucking you.
You’ve never seen this side of Alex before and you weren’t gunna lie it was making you turned on all over again. He once again finished and you hummed on his cock to help, “Swallow it, all of it..” He demanded and you did.
-
he’d help you clean up and clean himself up as well, you too would cuddle all night until you fell asleep on him.
in the morning his mom probably made fun of him cause she definitely heard you two.
-
REQUESTS OPEN
#quackity#qsmp#qsmp quacki#mexican#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#smut#x reader#alex quackity#x y/n#2019Quackity#2019#i have a bad obsession
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⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut!
(not proofread! Also…….I wrote this at like 3 am, so keep that in mind)
_____________________________________________________________
Your arm was starting to get sore, but it didn't matter. You continued to jam your three fingers into her moist cunt. Ellie gripped the sides on the bench you had haphazardly placed her on. Conveniently placed in a corner of a rarely used hall in your school. Especially this early in the morning. You gave Ellie’s neck a few quick pecks before sucking on her weak spot. You wouldn’t have been so pissed at your English teacher for telling you to hand in your book at 7 am, aka an hour before your first class, if you knew it would lead to this. Ellie Williams, the most attractive loser in school, being spread out just for you.
"Shush, shush. You need to stay quiet, Ellie" you whispered. She nodded her head as she continued to keep down her whines. The laces of her dirty converse swing as you continue to slam into her pretty pussy, nudging the bundled up fabric around her knees. Her twisted face was a sigh you tried to keep in your memory, for some lonely night when your parents weren't home.
As you continue to slide your fingers into her needy hole you used her other hand to pull back her t-shirt that’s fallen over due to her constant moving, showing off her pretty little tits. “Prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen” you mumble as you watched them slightly bounce as you spread up your pace. You used your hips to thrust your fingers deeper into her poor pussy, not caring that her access juice smeared onto the front of your jeans, creating strings whenever you pulled back your hips to soon after slam them back into her.
The table slightly banged into the wall behind Ellie with every thrust. You’d start to worry about someone hearing if it wasn’t for your pussydrunk state. The warm feeling of Ellie’s wall’s squeezing you in made you obsessed, desperate to observe every single thing. Ellie clawed at the old wood rim around the table as she bit those pretty lips of hers. You knew it was to prevent herself from being so loud, but you kinda wanted to tell her to just go wild and allow her to let out all those pretty little sounds. But you knew you two would get in big trouble if anyone saw you, so you had to push your horny thoughts aside and be happy with the muffled whines you got.
As you started to rub your thumb on her clit she couldn't help but let out a groan. You winced at the contrast of the dead silent hall before putting your head near her ear. "I told you to be quiet!" you whisper-yelled, trying to conceal the true effect her sounds had on you. "I know. I-I´m trying" she pathetically whined out. You couldn't help but giggle at her cute attempt to keep it together. She couldn't fool a soul.
You jammed in your fingers all the way into her before curving and continuously message her g-spot. Using your hips to press down onto the back of your hand, making sure to reach the deepest point. Quickly pressing your lips against hers to quiet her down. A smirk sneaked into the kiss as the expected moan leaves Ellie's throat, luckily muffled. You could feel Ellie grinning herself against your hand, desperate to feel more of you.
She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer to her as her walls tightens around your fingers. You stumble over to her, putting your non-busy hand behind her, to not crash onto her. She break away from the kiss and buries her face into the crock of your neck. Bitting into the collar of your sweatshirt to cover her moans. Still the mumbled sound would be enough to make you cum. You continue to abuse her pussy, secretly “hopping” she’d accidentally let out a sound she shouldn’t. But being the good girl she is Ellie didn’t let out another unmuffled sound, scared it’d make you stop. And oh, she really didn’t want you to stop. Her heavy breathing warms up your neck as you continue to milk her of her orgasm. The cum starting to run down your wrist.
Ellie´s juice leaked down, past her asscrack to create a pool on the bench.
You helped Ellie off the bench and pulled up her panties and jeans, making sure she looked put together before leaving. You whipped off your fingers on your jeans as you made your way to your classroom. Letting Ellie´s cum soak into the fabric. This will be a good day.
_____________________________________________________________
Author´s Note: I've had this idea in my mind for a while, but never planned to write it down. But then I was like "fuck it!" and decided to write something shorter with less background. This was just a quickly little blur, trying out something new. Hope you liked it, even though it sucks donkey dick!
#sub!ellie#sub ellie williams#ellie x reader smut#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams#tlou ellie#the last of us#tlou
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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