👽

take you like a drug, taste you on my tongue

[roxierebellion]

the 5sos boys fanmade instas xx circa 2014-2015💋💋💋

-guitars, pizza, video games -keeks, selfies, backstage

-drums, bandanas, music -bass, animals, nature

[donniedarkolover123]

TRULY PEAK GRYLY TRULY PEAK

[donniedarkolover123]

R U MINE ?

hi thank you to my baby @ily-mgc for this incredible idea :-) i’m gonna make a master list soon guys trust!!! also don’t mind how shit this is, it’s 5am, give me a break

warnings: sending nudes back and forth, cal jerking off, whiny & submissive kinda pervy cal lol.

i go crazy cause here ain’t where i wanna be, and satisfaction feels like a distant memory.

calum had a love–hate relationship with tour.

he loved the fans, screaming his name like he was someone, the way the front row sang every lyric practically louder than the speakers. he loved seeing different cultures, different skies, learning how cities felt at night instead of just how they looked in photos. he loved traveling the world with his brothers; the shared hotel rooms, the dumb inside jokes that never ever died, the late-night food runs where everything tasted better because they were exhausted and laughing too hard. he loved the adrenaline, the ritual of soundcheck, the way a crowd could make a bad day disappear in the span of a single song.

there were perks people never really talked about, too; the quiet moments on planes when everyone was half-asleep and quiet for once, the way music sounded better in foreign headphones, the feeling of being young and invincible and exactly where you were supposed to be. tour made his life feel bigger. louder. infinite.

but what he hated the most—what sat heavy in his chest no matter what city they were in—was being away from his girl.

you.

he knew you understood. god, you were sweet like that. understanding in a way that never made him feel guilty, never made him feel small. you knew the distance wasn’t a choice, that the time zones and missed calls weren’t him pulling away. you told him not to worry when he couldn’t text all the time, told him to focus on the show, on the moment. you always said it like you meant it.

still, it didn’t stop him from thinking about you constantly.

like right now—backstage, pacing the length of his dressing room almost an hour before showtime, bass leaning against the wall, nerves buzzing under his skin. the room smelled like cologne and sweat and anticipation. his phone sat on the couch where he’d left it, screen dark, face-up, like it was waiting for him to give in.

he checked the time. checked it again. different city, same ache.

he could almost picture you—maybe curled up on your bed, maybe half-asleep with your phone in your hand, maybe wearing nothing at all, maybe fresh out the shower, water dripping down your collar bone, sliding in between those perfect—the thought made his chest tighten, rubbing a hand over his face, exhale slowly, then finally grabbed his phone, thumbs hovering over your snapchat name.

calum 💋 is typing…

the notification on your phone made you almost jump out of your skin.

you’d been way too invested in the horror movie playing on your laptop, no thanks to the volume being a little too loud, the lights being off, and the tension coiled tight in your chest. some violins screeched at the exact wrong moment and you physically flinched, clutching the blanket like it could save you. perfect timing, honestly.

your phone buzzed again on the mattress beside you, screen lighting up the dark room.

Snapchat notification

you were curled up in one of calum’s old hoodies, obviously oversized, sleeves swallowing your hands, the fabric worn soft from too many washes and too many nights missing him. hair tucked behind your ears without care, bare legs tucked under you, popcorn abandoned sometime during the opening credits. if calum had seen you like this, all cozy and half-focused and very obviously thinking about him—

yeah. the movie wouldn’t have stood a chance.

you grabbed your phone, heart doing that stupid little skip it always did when his name popped up. it felt ridiculous every time. like your body hadn’t learned distance yet.

you opened the app.

🟥 calum 💋 • 1m

🟥 luke • 5h

🟦 michael • 2w

you tapped calum’s, already smiling.

just black screen. no face. no context. no warning.

and then, in awkward little text, like he’d typed it, deleted it, retyped it again:

calum 💋

hi

you stared at it for a second before laughing under your breath, shoulders relaxing. that was so him. halfway confident, halfway nervous, pretending it was casual when you both knew it wasn’t. all that buildup, all that distance, all those unsent thoughts—reduced to a single, lowercase greeting.

you bit your lip, thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

y/n 😘

hello?

calum groaned and threw his head back against the wall, the dull thud echoing through the dressing room. he shut his phone and pressed it to his chest like it had personally betrayed him.

god. he was such an idiot. who the fuck just says hi? no context, no confidence, no charm. just—hi. like he was some guy from your math class and not your boyfriend halfway across the world about to play a show to a thousand something people. smooth, hood. real smooth.

he dragged a hand down his face, pacing once, twice, muttering to himself under his breath. he should’ve said more. should’ve said i can’t sleep without you or if i don’t fuck you rn i’m gonna go crazy. well, maybe not that one. point being, anything but that painfully dry, lowercase greeting now sitting in your inbox like a bad joke.

before he could spiral any further, he cracked and opened the app again.

okay. damage control.

he straightened up, rolled his shoulders back, ran his fingers through his hair until it looked effortless in that practiced, slightly messy way he knew you liked. he tilted his head, adjusted the lighting, then clenched his jaw just enough—subtle, but intentional. he knew you. knew you’d notice. knew you’d say something about it, probably compliment him, probably make his stomach clench.

he snapped the photo.

looked at it for half a second. good enough.

then he typed, thumbs moving faster now, less doubt, more truth spilling through.

miss you. wyd?

simple. honest. very him.

he hit send before he could overthink it again, exhaling hard as he locked his phone and let it fall back into his hand.

you were still on the app, phone warm in your hands, when the notification popped up.

🟥 calum 💋• 41s

you froze for half a second, like if you moved too fast it might disappear. then you laughed—quiet, breathy, embarrassing in the way only he could pull out of you. like a school girl, like this wasn’t something you’d done a hundred times before and still never got used to.

you opened it.

and honestly? you barely processed the caption at first.

your eyes went straight to him, obviously, how could it not? the sharp line of his jaw clenched just enough to be intentional, the way the low lighting carved shadows into his face like it was doing him favors. grainy tour-quality camera, just blurry enough to feel real. intimate. like it wasn’t meant for anyone else. his hair looked messed up in that careless way you knew wasn’t careless at all.

your thumb moved fast over the screen, muscle memory kicking in before your brain could catch up. you hovered over the reply bar, already smiling, already thinking of something clever, something teasing, something that would make him grin at his phone the way you were doing now.

y/n 😘

babyy u look good 👀

calum 💋

Oh yeah? ;) I bet you do too. Too bad I can’t see you.

you rolled your eyes at his stupid, arrogant confidence, lips twitching despite yourself. like he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. like he hadn’t just sent that photo on purpose, fully aware of the effect it’d have on you.

you shifted where you were sitting, straightening up just a little, angling the phone higher like it was casual—like you hadn’t done this before, like you weren’t already calculating what he’d see first. you tilted your chin up, index finger gently tugging your own bottom lip, peering at the camera through your lashes, batting your eyes in that soft, innocent way you knew drove him insane. sweetheart act fully engaged.

calum’s hoodie hung off you, too big in all the right ways, slipping down one shoulder, fabric pooling around your hips. bare thighs on display, unapologetic. comfortable. his. it felt a little like revenge, a little like a reminder.

you snapped the photo before you could second-guess it.

hit send.

and leaned back, satisfied.

🟥 y/n 😘

god, he was shaking like he was thirteen again, knees weak, palms sweaty, brain completely useless.

it was humiliating, honestly. he knew it was. a grown man pacing a dressing room like this over a snapchat notification. but his body didn’t care about pride or dignity—his hormones were absolutely losing their minds, firing off like it was their job. and really, could you blame him? not when distance made everything sharper, not when missing you felt physical.

he exhaled through his nose, tried to steady himself, then opened the snap.

and that was it.

a soft, almost inaudible groan slipped out of his throat before he could stop it, head tipping forward as if the weight of the moment had finally caught up to him. you looked—god. sweet and dangerous all at once. innocent eyes, familiar hoodie, bare skin where it absolutely didn’t belong. like you knew exactly what you were doing and still wanted him to think it was accidental.

he saved it to the chat immediately, thumbs moving on instinct, like his body had taken over. zoomed in. lingered. memorized. his jaw clenched, heartbeat loud in his ears, the room suddenly too quiet.

he dragged a hand over his face, laughing under his breath, equal parts wrecked and gone for you.

then he typed back, honesty bleeding straight through the screen.

calum 💋

Jesus, baby. So unfair. So sexy.

fuck it, he thought to himself. i’m just gonna do it.

calum 💋

Maybe u could send a little more?

you rolled your eyes, again as you reread the message, but honestly? your boyfriend hadn’t been home in months, and god, you were lonely without him; nobody likes playing by themselves. (for too long, that is). with that being said, you’d give almost anything for another glimpse of him, and clearly, he would too.

and yet, he was freaking out now. like, full internal meltdown.

his phone was still warm in his hand, his message sitting there in the chat like a ticking bomb. was that too much? too forward? did it sound gross? did it sound like he was trying too hard? i mean, yeah, he was in desperate need of a chicken choking sensation but did he have to be so obvious? should he follow it up with a joke? or an apology? haha sorry ignore me—no, that’d be worse. oh fuck. why was he like this.

he paced once, then stopped. stared at the screen. locked it. unlocked it again. his brain spiraled in a thousand directions at once, every possible reaction playing out like a bad montage. maybe you’d laugh. maybe you’d tease him. maybe you’d leave him on read and he’d simply pass away on the sticky dressing room floor.

get a grip, he told himself, rubbing the back of his neck. he was being stupid. dramatic. gross, even—god, he hated that word. he didn’t want to be that guy. the one who made things weird. the one who said the wrong thing from thousands of miles away.

and then—

🟥 y/n 😘

the notification popped up like a punch to the chest.

his knees actually buckled.

he had to lean back against the wall, breath leaving him in a sharp, helpless laugh, heart slamming so hard it felt like it might crack his ribs. whatever panic had been chewing him alive vanished instantly, replaced with something warm and dizzy and stupidly hopeful.

oh.

oh, okay.

he opened the snap with shaking hands, a grin already pulling at his mouth—then the photo loaded. the groan that tore from his throat this time was louder—undeniable. it echoed faintly off the walls before he could swallow it back, a breathy, wrecked little “shit” slipping out under his breath like a confession.

he leaned his whole body back against the wall, head tipping, eyes squeezing shut for half a second like he could reset himself if he tried hard enough. no such luck. he adjusted his pants—was he really gonna go on stage with a raging hard-on?

calum 💋

Holg shit your fuckig beautiful

he saved the photo to the chat immediately. no hesitation. none. zoomed in like it was instinct, like his fingers already knew what to do without asking permission. he traced the image with his eyes slowly—too slowly—taking in every detail he shouldn’t have lingered on. the photo was of you, hoodie long gone, topless in his bed. he shamelessly zoomed in on your perfect tits, the way the glow of whatever screen you were using painted them to look angelic, surreal, almost. he zoomed in on the way you sat on your knees, thighs spread just barely; he zoomed in on the softness in your expression.

his jaw tightened, chest rising and falling as he dragged in a steadying breath that didn’t do much to help. he unbuttoned his skinny jeans, giving one soft tug downward—not even pushing them—before gently pushing his boxers a little further down, just barely enough to free his cock, already half-hard from a photo of your tits alone. he set the angle up, purposely so that you could see his toned stomach too, confidently clicking send. he quickly opened your snap again, giving his cock one slow stroke at the sight of your tits.

y/n 😘

baby i gotta go, i love you so much, ok? have fun ;)

calum 💋

I love you bye ❤️

calum would've laughed at himself in any other situation. the great, infamous calum hood, hiding in his dressing room, desperately stroking his leaking cock because the girl he loved was sending topless photos. it would've been an amusing thought if it wasn't actively happening.

"oh—shit," he gasped under his breath, imagining what you'd say back to him. something dirty, something filthy, all to get him shaking and whining. his eyes, already heavy returned back to the phone, watching the soft expression on your face and that’s when his fantasies went rampant. he got so lost in his own head, imagining your pretty eyes looking up at him, your lips parting around his name as he pushed into you. he choked on a groan, his hips slowly beginning to jerk against his own hand like he couldn't help himself.

"you—you feel so good," he rasped out to no one in particular, voice wrecked and strained with pleasure. his fingers tightened almost painfully around himself just to keep from losing it right then and there because fuck, if this was what you did to him just by some photos? he wouldn’t survive the rest of this tour alive.

calum’s breath came out in sharp, ragged gasps. his head slumped against the wall, his eyes shut so tightly he was seeing stars behind them. he could picture it so clearly it was almost scary: you on your back, your waist in his hands, your eyes wide and pleading. he panted to himself, your name escaping his throat in a desperate whine.

"can’t—can't take—ah—" he imagined your voice, sweet and soft. the way your face would go pink if he even hinted at what he wanted to put his hands on.

and now, calum was unbelievably lost in his own world of pleasure.

he was completely and utterly lost in the fantasy, rocking his hips desperately into his palm and whimpering all the filthy things he wanted to hear you gasp into his skin. in his mind, you were saying them in that soft voice he loved, words that were half pleading and half begging—begging him to take you, and he would, in a heartbeat. he knew he would.

"shit,," he pleaded weakly, panting like a dog in the heat. "please, please—"

then calum spilled all over himself, his knees buckling to the point where he almost fell down. there was a few moments of stunned silence, mainly because his brain was mush, his mind an absolute blank. calum slumped against the wall, head rolling back against the door as he gasped for air and tried to remember how to form a coherent thought again.

it took a solid moment for his brain to even register the fact that he'd just gotten himself off in his dressing room to a photo of you.

"holy crap,” he choked, cheeks flushed red.

[donniedarkolover123]

hi babyyy, i like seeing how freaky you are over steve harrington i giggle. answer my texts.

I DIDDDDD GOD FORBIDDD I GOON

[donniedarkolover123]

hi karla i love you

hi zoe baby i love you too!

[nobodys-s0n]

QUICK OUTLET ! (season 5! steve harrington!)

╰ or... steve has an aching feeling about the last bout with the upside down. you want to help him anyway possible. the solution? just the tip! (of course, that's impossible with steve...)

WARNING: 18+ CONTENT, fem! reader, gentle sex, 'just the tip', praise kink, hair pulling, risky sex, big dick! steve harrington, dirty talk, quickie, unprotected sex, spit as lube, begging, pathetic! pussy drunk! steve harrington, male whimpering, set before the finale!

steve has never felt so nervous in his life before tonight.

sure, asking you out was a little nerve racking, fighting the demodogs in the junkyard while having to protect three little shitheads was shit-pant terrifying, going up against vecna in his attic to save max and hawkins was a scary level of nervous... tonight was just... different.

you guys had just got max back from her nineteen month long coma, steve himself had figured out a plan to save hawkins and kill the upside down in its entirely all while making sure el doesn't die with the upside down— everything was in place.

it felt too good to be true.

you were equally as nervous, but you had an outlet to let out your nervousness. steve on the other hand, didn't.

it was, give or take, four hours before the plan was going to be set in motion when he whispers to you in the confines of the weapon room in the wsqk radio station.

"baby..." he whispers, watching as you reload one of too many guns the party was taking into the upside down to defeat the hoard of creatures they're going to be met with.

you look up for one moment; you couldn't lie to yourself, he looked sexy as fuck in the outfit he chose... but that would be for after this was all over with, even if your pussy said otherwise. "mhm? yeah, steve?"

"i...uh... i'm not going to lie to you, i've lied to the others; i'm nervous baby, like shit my pants kind of nervous..." he admits, lifting his hand to adjust the hat he was wearing, the material of the handkerchief scratching against his neck. "i'm just... not sure how this is going to go."

you furrow your brows, reading his expression, the slight frown on his lips, the glassy appearance of his eyes. you set the assault rifle down on the table, hearing the commotion outside the station as nancy reprimands lucas and mike for letting max shoot one of the guns in her wheelchair. "steve, handsome, we're all nervous... i mean, it's warrented, considering this is the last time— hypothetically, we fight the upside down, and with vecna acting like creepy weirdo level one hundred tonight... it's fair to say we're all hella nervous."

steve appreciates your grounding words, but he shakes his head anyway. "i-i know we're all nervous... but i can't go into this with this nervousness... i-i need to let it out."

"okay, i can finish the rest, you go let out your nervousness." you tell him, your voice warm combating his own shakiness. the way his fingers clench and unclench into hardened fists is getting your mind racing, you won't lie.

steve groans out loud, licking his bottom lip and moving his left hand down towards your lower back, pressing his palm against you. "you don't understand, hun, i need you. i need it baby."

"steve, right fucking now?" you let out, feeling his right hand move on your body as well, faintly dragging his fingers up your right bicep as his arm curled around you. "where everyone can see?" you add.

he nods shamelessly. "please, baby, just the tip. i promise."

"you liar." you hiss although with no venom, letting him move you as you feel your lower back press against the metal slab, right below a light fixture and a screaming blue poster. "it's never just the tip with you, big boy."

as you speak, your hands conveniently begin to undo the buttons of your pants at your own doing, watching him fumble with the zipper of his pants, lifting his shirt a tiny bit to get a better look.

he's so fucking hard it's not even funny, the right curve of his cock prominent as his cock springs out of his pants the moment he pulls his pants doing enough. hot breaths hit his red handkerchief as his mind goes numb although his ears listen to anybody coming, hearing more of mike and max's arguing.

"i know, i know, baby." he reasons with you, licking his bottom teeth and letting a line of spit drop to the palm of his hand as you pull down your pants down to your shoes. his hand strokes his cock a couple of times, the spit lathering his cock from the tip down to his balls, grounding himself with his left hand on the wall. "just— just lemme do this, hun."

you wrap your arms around his neck, slipping off the hat and letting it drop to the floor as steve lines up with your pussy, taking a deep breath before pushing foward.

your fingers dig into his brunette hair as you feel his bulbous tip slowly ease into you, stretching your cunt and your walls immediately suctioning around his thickness.

"o-oh fuck, baby." he whimpers out, looking down and seeing eight of his throbbing inches still remaining and his tip fully in your warm cunt. "baby, it feels to-too good, i can't."

you close your eyes, leaning your head back on the wall and feeling his tip throb in you... and before you can even say anything; one or two of his inches push into you without care.

"steve..." you warn. "that's not... just the tip." your words get broken into shaky groans as another inch is pushed in.

he nods. "i know baby, but please, i'll be quick." he promises, and that crack in his voice? how could you say no to him.

your sigh is faux angry— the only reason why you'd say no is because of the risk of getting caught, but right now? you didn't really care about getting caught. "just... ah!" two more inches push in and stretch open your walls, three inches still remaining. "just hurry. 'don't need p-people walking in because you couldn't handle it."

with your permission finally given to him, steve thrusts fully into you, all eight of his thick inches opening your walls and immediately getting clamped down upon.

steve throws his head back, your fingers pulling at his strands as the feeling of fullness rams into you too quickly but god, it feels amazing. "steve! f-fuck!" you grunt, trying to not moan too loudly.

steve on the other hand, moans a little too loud when heat smothers him, his eyes half lidded and threatening to roll back as he lets you settle into how full you feel. "g-god baby... never forgot how good you fucking feel... this warm pussy all 'round me."

"m-move steve." you beg him, rubbing your heel against his pant leg. "fuck me."

he didn't need to be told twice.

steve pulled out just enough for one inch of him to be remaining in your cunt before thrusting back in, filling you right back up and forcing open your walls. his whimper is louder than he meant it to be, his arms wrapping around your waist to ground himself, his hands gripping your hips on each side.

pleasure shoots through your veins as steve doesn’t give you a damn moment to complain, beginning to gain momentum as he angles deep inside your cunt, hitting your g-spot continuously.

“st—steve-“ your moan is muffled by a sloppy push of his lips against yours, tongue flicking against your bottom teeth. "oh god!"

steve thrusts quicker as his balls slap against your cunt, both his hands rubbing up and down your clothed back, sweat beading down both sides of his face as he moans under his breath, feeling your fingers yank at him again. "god you're so pretty..." he whispers against your lips. "just taking me so well, feel so fucking good."

each thrust hits you further and further, your folds fluttering around him as you slowly let pleasure seep into the part of your brain that told you to be worried. all you can feel is steve. "f-fuck— steve! so good..."

"yeah baby? you like that? you like how deep i am in you? in this perfect cunt." he questions, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck. "thank you, thank you, thank you, baby..."

his words against your neck shoots shivers down your spine as each thrust pushes you deeper and closer to your orgasm. it's quite pathetic you find yourself so close already, but you couldn't hold it, he felt too good in you and you could tell by the way he was gripping your hips; he was close too.

"steve, steve, oh fuckkkk." your nails pull at his hair again, digging into his head as you ground yourself against him. "steve. g-gonna cum! oh fuck!" your vision begins to blur as the only thing you can feel is him.

steve nods to your words, quickening his pace as the sound of skin slapping and moans fill the room, sweat sticking to both of you. "let's cum together. please, baby, cum for me as i cum in you— do it together, baby." he blabbers, placing wet kisses along your neck as he grinds against you.

you nod your head a little too quickly, a streak of heat spreading across your face as you can't stop yourself from going over the edge that steve was trying to push you over. "steve! oh fuck! cumming!"

right as you feel pleasure flood your own senses, steve's senses are flooded with it's own type of pleasure. groaning loudly into your neck as your walls clench around his cock, he slams in one more time as his balls tighten and he feels himself go over his edge.

your whole body feels fuzzy as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back and vision going white as you cum hard around him, nails digging so deep that you're scared you drew blood as you go slack jawed.

meanwhile, steve digs his nails into your back as he cums in your cunt, spewing hot ropes of semen into your needy walls as he empties inside of you, grinding helplessly against your cunt in overstimulation. "oh god baby... so good... taking my cum like this... letting me fill you right up— ahhhhhh." he moans.

steve's breaths are heavy against your lips as you both come down from your shared highs, watching as your eyes close then reopen and he can see the color of your irises again. a smile spreads across his face.

he looks like he went to heaven and back, his hair sticking to each side of his face as a lopsided smile remains on his lips, completely lost in the feeling of you as you cum all over him, straight up whimpering that sounds like a cat's purr almost as he feels your warmth all around him. you begin to worry that anyone can walk in now, with all the moaning and the rattling... but steve gets a hold of himself before that fear becomes a reality.

"thank you, hun..." he whispers, gripping the base of his cock with his right hand and pulling out slowly. "atta girl..." he adds, watching as his cock leaves your folds, using a cloth on one of the many spaces around you two to wipe off your cum from his cock.

he bends down, his hands grabbing the waistband of your jeans and helping you pull them up as your hands grab them from him. you raise an eyebrow at him as he puts his cock back into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

"still nervous?" you question him, watching as he picks up the hat and wipes the possible dust off the fishnet parts of it.

he shakes his head, planting a kiss on your lips as he slides the hat back on his head, backwards in all. "not at all..."

click here for main masterlist!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: needy steve, i need you so fucking bad. guys. the finale is today. i get elmax, steve harrington, lumax, and happy el ending today. lowkey in the minority when i say i think vol 2 was good. it has it's issues but damn did it have a lot of good moments. just in time for the finale and steve harrington comes back to me tonight and i can't wait to see him! also thank you so fucking much for the support on my steve fics!

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

[donniedarkolover123]

TJANK GOD

[nobodys-s0n]

QUICK OUTLET ! (season 5! steve harrington!)

╰ or... steve has an aching feeling about the last bout with the upside down. you want to help him anyway possible. the solution? just the tip! (of course, that's impossible with steve...)

WARNING: 18+ CONTENT, fem! reader, gentle sex, 'just the tip', praise kink, hair pulling, risky sex, big dick! steve harrington, dirty talk, quickie, unprotected sex, spit as lube, begging, pathetic! pussy drunk! steve harrington, male whimpering, set before the finale!

steve has never felt so nervous in his life before tonight.

sure, asking you out was a little nerve racking, fighting the demodogs in the junkyard while having to protect three little shitheads was shit-pant terrifying, going up against vecna in his attic to save max and hawkins was a scary level of nervous... tonight was just... different.

you guys had just got max back from her nineteen month long coma, steve himself had figured out a plan to save hawkins and kill the upside down in its entirely all while making sure el doesn't die with the upside down— everything was in place.

it felt too good to be true.

you were equally as nervous, but you had an outlet to let out your nervousness. steve on the other hand, didn't.

it was, give or take, four hours before the plan was going to be set in motion when he whispers to you in the confines of the weapon room in the wsqk radio station.

"baby..." he whispers, watching as you reload one of too many guns the party was taking into the upside down to defeat the hoard of creatures they're going to be met with.

you look up for one moment; you couldn't lie to yourself, he looked sexy as fuck in the outfit he chose... but that would be for after this was all over with, even if your pussy said otherwise. "mhm? yeah, steve?"

"i...uh... i'm not going to lie to you, i've lied to the others; i'm nervous baby, like shit my pants kind of nervous..." he admits, lifting his hand to adjust the hat he was wearing, the material of the handkerchief scratching against his neck. "i'm just... not sure how this is going to go."

you furrow your brows, reading his expression, the slight frown on his lips, the glassy appearance of his eyes. you set the assault rifle down on the table, hearing the commotion outside the station as nancy reprimands lucas and mike for letting max shoot one of the guns in her wheelchair. "steve, handsome, we're all nervous... i mean, it's warrented, considering this is the last time— hypothetically, we fight the upside down, and with vecna acting like creepy weirdo level one hundred tonight... it's fair to say we're all hella nervous."

steve appreciates your grounding words, but he shakes his head anyway. "i-i know we're all nervous... but i can't go into this with this nervousness... i-i need to let it out."

"okay, i can finish the rest, you go let out your nervousness." you tell him, your voice warm combating his own shakiness. the way his fingers clench and unclench into hardened fists is getting your mind racing, you won't lie.

steve groans out loud, licking his bottom lip and moving his left hand down towards your lower back, pressing his palm against you. "you don't understand, hun, i need you. i need it baby."

"steve, right fucking now?" you let out, feeling his right hand move on your body as well, faintly dragging his fingers up your right bicep as his arm curled around you. "where everyone can see?" you add.

he nods shamelessly. "please, baby, just the tip. i promise."

"you liar." you hiss although with no venom, letting him move you as you feel your lower back press against the metal slab, right below a light fixture and a screaming blue poster. "it's never just the tip with you, big boy."

as you speak, your hands conveniently begin to undo the buttons of your pants at your own doing, watching him fumble with the zipper of his pants, lifting his shirt a tiny bit to get a better look.

he's so fucking hard it's not even funny, the right curve of his cock prominent as his cock springs out of his pants the moment he pulls his pants doing enough. hot breaths hit his red handkerchief as his mind goes numb although his ears listen to anybody coming, hearing more of mike and max's arguing.

"i know, i know, baby." he reasons with you, licking his bottom teeth and letting a line of spit drop to the palm of his hand as you pull down your pants down to your shoes. his hand strokes his cock a couple of times, the spit lathering his cock from the tip down to his balls, grounding himself with his left hand on the wall. "just— just lemme do this, hun."

you wrap your arms around his neck, slipping off the hat and letting it drop to the floor as steve lines up with your pussy, taking a deep breath before pushing foward.

your fingers dig into his brunette hair as you feel his bulbous tip slowly ease into you, stretching your cunt and your walls immediately suctioning around his thickness.

"o-oh fuck, baby." he whimpers out, looking down and seeing eight of his throbbing inches still remaining and his tip fully in your warm cunt. "baby, it feels to-too good, i can't."

you close your eyes, leaning your head back on the wall and feeling his tip throb in you... and before you can even say anything; one or two of his inches push into you without care.

"steve..." you warn. "that's not... just the tip." your words get broken into shaky groans as another inch is pushed in.

he nods. "i know baby, but please, i'll be quick." he promises, and that crack in his voice? how could you say no to him.

your sigh is faux angry— the only reason why you'd say no is because of the risk of getting caught, but right now? you didn't really care about getting caught. "just... ah!" two more inches push in and stretch open your walls, three inches still remaining. "just hurry. 'don't need p-people walking in because you couldn't handle it."

with your permission finally given to him, steve thrusts fully into you, all eight of his thick inches opening your walls and immediately getting clamped down upon.

steve throws his head back, your fingers pulling at his strands as the feeling of fullness rams into you too quickly but god, it feels amazing. "steve! f-fuck!" you grunt, trying to not moan too loudly.

steve on the other hand, moans a little too loud when heat smothers him, his eyes half lidded and threatening to roll back as he lets you settle into how full you feel. "g-god baby... never forgot how good you fucking feel... this warm pussy all 'round me."

"m-move steve." you beg him, rubbing your heel against his pant leg. "fuck me."

he didn't need to be told twice.

steve pulled out just enough for one inch of him to be remaining in your cunt before thrusting back in, filling you right back up and forcing open your walls. his whimper is louder than he meant it to be, his arms wrapping around your waist to ground himself, his hands gripping your hips on each side.

pleasure shoots through your veins as steve doesn’t give you a damn moment to complain, beginning to gain momentum as he angles deep inside your cunt, hitting your g-spot continuously.

“st—steve-“ your moan is muffled by a sloppy push of his lips against yours, tongue flicking against your bottom teeth. "oh god!"

steve thrusts quicker as his balls slap against your cunt, both his hands rubbing up and down your clothed back, sweat beading down both sides of his face as he moans under his breath, feeling your fingers yank at him again. "god you're so pretty..." he whispers against your lips. "just taking me so well, feel so fucking good."

each thrust hits you further and further, your folds fluttering around him as you slowly let pleasure seep into the part of your brain that told you to be worried. all you can feel is steve. "f-fuck— steve! so good..."

"yeah baby? you like that? you like how deep i am in you? in this perfect cunt." he questions, stuffing his face into the crook of your neck. "thank you, thank you, thank you, baby..."

his words against your neck shoots shivers down your spine as each thrust pushes you deeper and closer to your orgasm. it's quite pathetic you find yourself so close already, but you couldn't hold it, he felt too good in you and you could tell by the way he was gripping your hips; he was close too.

"steve, steve, oh fuckkkk." your nails pull at his hair again, digging into his head as you ground yourself against him. "steve. g-gonna cum! oh fuck!" your vision begins to blur as the only thing you can feel is him.

steve nods to your words, quickening his pace as the sound of skin slapping and moans fill the room, sweat sticking to both of you. "let's cum together. please, baby, cum for me as i cum in you— do it together, baby." he blabbers, placing wet kisses along your neck as he grinds against you.

you nod your head a little too quickly, a streak of heat spreading across your face as you can't stop yourself from going over the edge that steve was trying to push you over. "steve! oh fuck! cumming!"

right as you feel pleasure flood your own senses, steve's senses are flooded with it's own type of pleasure. groaning loudly into your neck as your walls clench around his cock, he slams in one more time as his balls tighten and he feels himself go over his edge.

your whole body feels fuzzy as your orgasm hits you, eyes rolling back and vision going white as you cum hard around him, nails digging so deep that you're scared you drew blood as you go slack jawed.

meanwhile, steve digs his nails into your back as he cums in your cunt, spewing hot ropes of semen into your needy walls as he empties inside of you, grinding helplessly against your cunt in overstimulation. "oh god baby... so good... taking my cum like this... letting me fill you right up— ahhhhhh." he moans.

steve's breaths are heavy against your lips as you both come down from your shared highs, watching as your eyes close then reopen and he can see the color of your irises again. a smile spreads across his face.

he looks like he went to heaven and back, his hair sticking to each side of his face as a lopsided smile remains on his lips, completely lost in the feeling of you as you cum all over him, straight up whimpering that sounds like a cat's purr almost as he feels your warmth all around him. you begin to worry that anyone can walk in now, with all the moaning and the rattling... but steve gets a hold of himself before that fear becomes a reality.

"thank you, hun..." he whispers, gripping the base of his cock with his right hand and pulling out slowly. "atta girl..." he adds, watching as his cock leaves your folds, using a cloth on one of the many spaces around you two to wipe off your cum from his cock.

he bends down, his hands grabbing the waistband of your jeans and helping you pull them up as your hands grab them from him. you raise an eyebrow at him as he puts his cock back into his boxers and zips up his jeans.

"still nervous?" you question him, watching as he picks up the hat and wipes the possible dust off the fishnet parts of it.

he shakes his head, planting a kiss on your lips as he slides the hat back on his head, backwards in all. "not at all..."

click here for main masterlist!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: needy steve, i need you so fucking bad. guys. the finale is today. i get elmax, steve harrington, lumax, and happy el ending today. lowkey in the minority when i say i think vol 2 was good. it has it's issues but damn did it have a lot of good moments. just in time for the finale and steve harrington comes back to me tonight and i can't wait to see him! also thank you so fucking much for the support on my steve fics!

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

[stevesgother]

sorry thinking about having to sit in steve’s lap during group car rides because robin gets her license and can’t afford anything but a beater volkswagon that doesn’t fit everyone inside of it

maybe the road gets bumpy or your jostling because eddie said something that made you laugh. and steve is in literal purgatory hell because he can smell your natural scent mixing with your perfume and it’s killing him!! he’s fighting off his boner like this life depends on it :(

you keep leaning back to whisper inside jokes into his ear and the way your breath feels on his face gives him goosebumps. thank god it’s dark in the car because he’s certainly embarrassingly red by now

all his senses are honed in on you: the way your laugh sounds, the way you smell, the skin of your arm touching the skin of his and if he lets himself, he can see a bit of your cleavage over your shoulder and oh no. oh god. the dreadful boner

you can feel it almost immediately against your ass. normally, with any other guy and in any other circumstance, you might’ve been offended. but with steve, you’d almost hoped for it when you decided it was his lap you wanted to sit on tonight

the others don’t notice you shift in his lap to face him better, still not straddling but capable of looking him in the eye. he’s looking at you like you’re about to tear him a new asshole— wet, hazel eyes glaring up at you

you throw an arm lazily over his shoulder, threading a hand through his hair and he lets out a whimper so quiet that even you could barely hear it over the sound of the engine

“it’s okay, stevie,” you murmur low in his ear. he shivers

“i’m—sorry—i don’t know why—“

“hey. it’s okay.”

he nods at your reassurance, trance-like, mouth slightly agape. He breathes, “I just—don’t want you to think—“

“do you think about me like this all the time, steve?” you murmur with your head tilted inches from his face

“no! no— i—“

“do you think about what i look like underneath my clothes when you touch yourself at night?” you ask him this right into the shell of his ear, “all alone and pent up?”

“ohmygod—“ he almost moans

“we’re here!” robin announces from the front seat. the engine cuts and the cabin lights turn on and steve is snatched very suddenly from his hypnosis; his cheeks a very bright crimson

“c’mon,” you smile sweetly but squeeze his shoulder in a way that says: this isn’t over

[lotusribbons]

a/n: little blurb because big dick!steve is REAL and CANON and IN OUR WORLD PEOPLE!!!!!

"it's too big, it's not gonna fit."

"steve hears that all the time, and he goes in anyway. don't you steve?"

and you nearly choke as the words tumble out of robin's mouth.

thinking of how she's right, and how he's trying to immediately divert the conversation. but as his eyes avert her gaze, his lands on you-and you can see him swallow-thickly, fingers enveloping the collar of his knitted sweater as he tugs gently.

you know his mind has already gone there, too.

how last night he had you pinned beneath him, forehead glistening with sweat as he pounded into you, his muscles flexing and veins threatening to burst from his biceps. how he had somehow crunched your knees to flex to your ears. how he had all of his body weight pressed into your contorted form, his chest flat against your lifted thighs, inevitably caging you beneath him. how he groaned on the verge of a growl-nearly animalistic every time he rightfully earned endless moans from you. how his chest hair tickled the inside of your knee as he kissed your ankles, still pressed into you before moving to your neck.

"steve," you breathe, strangled and raw, his name barely surviving your throat after all the moans he's pulled from you. you can swear you'll lose your voice from it.

you don't care.

he groans again, vibrating against your neck as his head burrows in the crook of it. "jesus fuckin' christ." he snarls, and his thrusts become erratic. "s'too big-" you try, your eyes glassy with tears of what you can only assume is ecstacy.

you wish there was a word stronger.

"nuh-uh, baby. s'all good. s'okay," he replies, somehow managing to ground you. hold you. despite his primal urge to fuck you-stretch you-he always snapped his attention back to you in a heartbeat.

"takin it so good," he slurs, pulling his face from your neck to look at you. he almost wishes he didn't, because he'll finish right now. cum right on the spot.

"so pretty," he manages, jaw slack, his thick hair toussled, yet somehow still holding most of its shape.

"my pretty baby. takin' my big cock for me, yeah? you like that, yeah?" he whimpers, brows furrowed at his feigned mockery of you, and it earns him an eye roll, gasping and panting.

sometimes, only sometimes does steve's suppressed cockiness rear its head, and it's always when he's balls deep in you, stil needing to hold your hips against his own to fit all of it. and you let him, because part of you wants him to talk that way.

you have steve harrington. you're his girlfriend.

and the thought of that alone makes your clit throb, aching and begging for some sort of friction.

the warmth nestled in the pit of your stomach starts to blossom, lips parting absentmindedly as you maintain your gaze, eyes locked on steve's.

he nods knowingly, and you can swear you see a smirk.

" i know you're close, honey. c'mon," his voice is ragged and deep, and as if reading your mind, his callused thumb flies to your clit-moving in circles with just the right amount of pressure. his cock stretches you in a way that you didn't even know was possible-you had only read things like this in books or seen it in movies, but you didn't think it was real. but steve harrington is splitting you in half.

for probably the millionth time, but you're positive your body will never fully accommodate to his size, and you're selfishly grateful for it. every time feels like the first time. steve has to pump his fingers in you, tongue brushing against yours while he works you open, cooing and murmuring against your lips about what he's going to do to you.

"gonna be nice'n pretty for me, yeah? gonna be so wet for me-can already feel it now." he'd say, and you swear you could cum by his words alone.

your breath starts to hitch, losing its rhythym-and that's all he needs.

"steve-" you manage once more, except this time it's a warning, and he knows it.

"that's it, baby. cum for me. c'mon, sweetheart. god, i love you." he's talking at a hundred miles an hour, and you know he's close too. he always lets you cum first, but you didn't want that.

not this time.

"cum in me." you breathe, eyes hazy.

"what?" he replies, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. "baby..are you..are you sure?" he asks, locking his attention on whatever you have to say.

"please. do it, steve."

you've never heard the noise that comes out of him.

he works feverishly, rushing down to your face to kiss you-teeth gnashing and swallowing one another's moans. your pussy starts to clench around him, milking him for what you need.

"please-" you beg, teary eyed and desperate.

"jesus, fuck-" he stammers, hips drilling into yours. you couldn't be closer if you tried.

and then you feel it.

the warmth of his cum spilling inside of you, drawing a sharp gasp from you. his cock is so big that eventually his cum has nowhere to go, and you feel it spilling out of you-but steve only pushes it back in, slow thrusts into you, his lips softly making out with your own.

"god.." he breathes, and you laugh softly.

"that good?" you tease, and he can only nod, the warmth of his laugh gracing your skin as he nods, resting his forehead against yours.

"always."

-;

and so you finally crack the smile you've been trying to hold, eyes still locked on each other as the rest of the squad continues dissecting and creating a plan.

"later?" he mouths, brows raised, and you nod silently, attempting to hide you grin.

"later."

[donniedarkolover123]

YOU PEOPLE WORK SO FAST IH MU GOD

[lotusribbons]

a/n: little blurb because big dick!steve is REAL and CANON and IN OUR WORLD PEOPLE!!!!!

"it's too big, it's not gonna fit."

"steve hears that all the time, and he goes in anyway. don't you steve?"

and you nearly choke as the words tumble out of robin's mouth.

thinking of how she's right, and how he's trying to immediately divert the conversation. but as his eyes avert her gaze, his lands on you-and you can see him swallow-thickly, fingers enveloping the collar of his knitted sweater as he tugs gently.

you know his mind has already gone there, too.

how last night he had you pinned beneath him, forehead glistening with sweat as he pounded into you, his muscles flexing and veins threatening to burst from his biceps. how he had somehow crunched your knees to flex to your ears. how he had all of his body weight pressed into your contorted form, his chest flat against your lifted thighs, inevitably caging you beneath him. how he groaned on the verge of a growl-nearly animalistic every time he rightfully earned endless moans from you. how his chest hair tickled the inside of your knee as he kissed your ankles, still pressed into you before moving to your neck.

"steve," you breathe, strangled and raw, his name barely surviving your throat after all the moans he's pulled from you. you can swear you'll lose your voice from it.

you don't care.

he groans again, vibrating against your neck as his head burrows in the crook of it. "jesus fuckin' christ." he snarls, and his thrusts become erratic. "s'too big-" you try, your eyes glassy with tears of what you can only assume is ecstacy.

you wish there was a word stronger.

"nuh-uh, baby. s'all good. s'okay," he replies, somehow managing to ground you. hold you. despite his primal urge to fuck you-stretch you-he always snapped his attention back to you in a heartbeat.

"takin it so good," he slurs, pulling his face from your neck to look at you. he almost wishes he didn't, because he'll finish right now. cum right on the spot.

"so pretty," he manages, jaw slack, his thick hair toussled, yet somehow still holding most of its shape.

"my pretty baby. takin' my big cock for me, yeah? you like that, yeah?" he whimpers, brows furrowed at his feigned mockery of you, and it earns him an eye roll, gasping and panting.

sometimes, only sometimes does steve's suppressed cockiness rear its head, and it's always when he's balls deep in you, stil needing to hold your hips against his own to fit all of it. and you let him, because part of you wants him to talk that way.

you have steve harrington. you're his girlfriend.

and the thought of that alone makes your clit throb, aching and begging for some sort of friction.

the warmth nestled in the pit of your stomach starts to blossom, lips parting absentmindedly as you maintain your gaze, eyes locked on steve's.

he nods knowingly, and you can swear you see a smirk.

" i know you're close, honey. c'mon," his voice is ragged and deep, and as if reading your mind, his callused thumb flies to your clit-moving in circles with just the right amount of pressure. his cock stretches you in a way that you didn't even know was possible-you had only read things like this in books or seen it in movies, but you didn't think it was real. but steve harrington is splitting you in half.

for probably the millionth time, but you're positive your body will never fully accommodate to his size, and you're selfishly grateful for it. every time feels like the first time. steve has to pump his fingers in you, tongue brushing against yours while he works you open, cooing and murmuring against your lips about what he's going to do to you.

"gonna be nice'n pretty for me, yeah? gonna be so wet for me-can already feel it now." he'd say, and you swear you could cum by his words alone.

your breath starts to hitch, losing its rhythym-and that's all he needs.

"steve-" you manage once more, except this time it's a warning, and he knows it.

"that's it, baby. cum for me. c'mon, sweetheart. god, i love you." he's talking at a hundred miles an hour, and you know he's close too. he always lets you cum first, but you didn't want that.

not this time.

"cum in me." you breathe, eyes hazy.

"what?" he replies, and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. "baby..are you..are you sure?" he asks, locking his attention on whatever you have to say.

"please. do it, steve."

you've never heard the noise that comes out of him.

he works feverishly, rushing down to your face to kiss you-teeth gnashing and swallowing one another's moans. your pussy starts to clench around him, milking him for what you need.

"please-" you beg, teary eyed and desperate.

"jesus, fuck-" he stammers, hips drilling into yours. you couldn't be closer if you tried.

and then you feel it.

the warmth of his cum spilling inside of you, drawing a sharp gasp from you. his cock is so big that eventually his cum has nowhere to go, and you feel it spilling out of you-but steve only pushes it back in, slow thrusts into you, his lips softly making out with your own.

"god.." he breathes, and you laugh softly.

"that good?" you tease, and he can only nod, the warmth of his laugh gracing your skin as he nods, resting his forehead against yours.

"always."

-;

and so you finally crack the smile you've been trying to hold, eyes still locked on each other as the rest of the squad continues dissecting and creating a plan.

"later?" he mouths, brows raised, and you nod silently, attempting to hide you grin.

"later."

[donniedarkolover123]

hi

[stillstreet]

shadow on the wall from the X-files premiere last night.

[silverfucksville]

[donniedarkolover123]

kissing in cars

blehhhh another highschool au suck it! this one is different. losing ur virginity to mikey! warning; a little awkward smut lol, praise, mikey’s nervous and a little submissive if u squint. this is longer than i wanted it to be, u can tell i got sick of it in the end LOL!! enjoy!!

michael clifford was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for—quietly, unintentionally sweet, like it was stitched into him rather than something he performed. it was in the little things. the way he’d wordlessly hand you one side of his headphones on the train, shoulder bumping into yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world. the way he’d push his fries toward you even though he definitely wanted them, pretending he was “already full” when you both knew he wasn’t.

he’d never admit it, not out loud—not with his whole tough, dyed-hair, loud-music exterior—but deep down, michael was painfully romantic. the kind of boy who remembered how you took your coffee, who walked you home even when it meant going out of his way, who made sure his hands never lingered where you didn’t want them to. respectful in a way that mattered. careful with you. gentle, even when he was joking around.

and tonight, michael was staying over like he always did. nothing about the routine was new—your room, the familiar comfort of his hoodie, the low hum of the house settling into sleep—but something in the air felt different. heavier. softer. charged.

his stares lingered longer than usual. when you caught him looking at you, he didn’t glance away right away. just smiled, slow and nervous, like he was thinking something he wasn’t sure how to say. and you weren’t any better—your eyes kept drifting back to him, tracing the familiar lines of his face like you were seeing him for the first time all over again.

you had a lot on your mind.

mostly… michael.

you’d been dating him for almost a year now, and the thought had been sitting in your chest for weeks, growing louder every day. you felt ready—for the next step, meaning, well, sex. not rushed, not reckless. just… ready. but the idea of bringing it up made your stomach twist.

what if you made him uncomfortable?

what if you said it wrong?

even though you knew—knew—that he thought about it too. he was a guy, for gods sake. the way his thumb traced idle circles on your arm, the way his breath would hitch sometimes when you shifted closer. michael wasn’t oblivious. he was just careful. maybe too careful.

you were curled against him now, resting on his chest, fingers loosely tangled in the soft fabric of his muscle tee. his heart beat steady beneath your ear, grounding and warm. one of his arms wrapped around you instinctively, thumb brushing your shoulder every so often like reassurance.

the tv played music videos in the background—half-watched, half-ignored—but neither of you was really paying attention. there was a quiet nervousness between you, unspoken but shared, like you were both standing on the edge of the same thought, waiting for the other to step forward first.

michael swallowed, chest rising beneath you. his hand stilled for just a second, then resumed its gentle movement.

“you okay?” he asked softly, voice low, almost careful.

you nodded against him, even though he couldn’t see it. “yeah. just… thinking.”

he hummed, fingers curling slightly into the fabric at your back, pulling you a little closer. “about what?”

“about us,” you said, voice quieter than you meant it to be, as you shifted to face him properly—one knee on either side of his hips, more awkward than intentional, like you hadn’t even realized what you were doing until you were already there.

michael froze for half a second.

not in a bad way—just surprised. his hands hovered in the air like he wasn’t sure where they were allowed to land, eyes flicking up to yours, wide and a little nervous. his cheeks flushed instantly, that familiar pink creeping up his neck.

“oh,” he breathed, then laughed softly under his breath, embarrassed. “uh—yeah. okay.”

he rested his hands lightly at your waist, like you were made of glass, thumbs brushing the hem of your shirt but not daring to move any further. you could feel his heartbeat speed up beneath you, not frantic—just aware.

“about us… good?” he asked, hopeful, cautious, all at once.

you smiled, leaning forward just enough that your foreheads brushed. “yeah. good. just… important. like… i think im, uh, ready. y’know?”

he nodded, swallowing. “yeah. for—” he paused, searching for the right words, eyes dropping to your lips and then quickly back up. “for wh—what?”

the room felt smaller somehow. quieter. even the music videos on the tv faded into background noise as his thumb traced a nervous little circle against your side.

“for like..” you said gently. “uh. sex, michael.”

he let out a soft breath, pants tightening quickly as he processed your words. “i like that page,” he said quickly, then cringed. “wow. that sounded dumb.”

you laughed, leaning back just enough to look at him. “it didn’t.”

“okay, good,” he said, smiling now, shy and genuine. “because—yeah. are.. yeah. are you sure, baby? you’re not like.. scared, or anything?”

his hands settled more confidently then, still careful, still respectful. you could feel how much he cared in every small movement, every glance he gave you like he was checking in without saying it out loud.

“well, yeah m’scared,” you muttered softly, shifting a little awkwardly over his hips. “that’s why i want you to be nice.”

michael's heart melted a little at the sound of your slight concern, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you. "of course i’ll be nice, baby," he murmured against your ear, "i’d be a shitty boyfriend if i wasn't, right?"

his hands ran up and down your back. "how could i be anything but nice to you?"

he looked up at you like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. like if he moved too fast, it might disappear.

“can i—” he started, then stopped, then laughed at himself. “sorry. i’m bad at talking when you’re… right there.”

you smiled, nerves buzzing. “you can.”

“i can?” he repeated, eyebrows lifting, hopeful.

you nodded. “yeah. you can.”

that was all it took.

he leaned up instead of pulling you down, lips brushing yours too quickly at first; more of a nervous bump than a kiss. you both froze for a second.

“sorry,” he blurted.

you laughed softly. “you’re fine.”

“okay,” he said, then immediately kissed you again, slower this time, like he was recalibrating. his lips were warm and a little clumsy, smiling into the kiss without meaning to. you kissed him back, hands sliding up into his hair, fingers tangling in the dyed strands.

he made a quiet noise against your mouth—surprised, pleased—and his hands tightened at your waist like he wasn’t sure what to do with all the feelings happening at once.

“oh,” he murmured when you pulled back for air, forehead bumping yours. “wow.”

you giggled. “what?”

“nothing—just—” he shook his head, flustered. “i really like kissing you.”

“me too,” you admitted, cheeks warm.

“cool,” he said quickly, then laughed. “coolcoolcool.”

you leaned in again before he could overthink it, kissing him a little deeper this time. it was messy and uncoordinated, teeth knocking softly, noses bumping. he laughed into the kiss, which only made you laugh too, the sound muffled between your mouths.

“we’re so bad at this,” he whispered between kisses.

“shut up,” you said fondly, kissing him again anyway.

his hands moved—hesitant but eager—one sliding up your back, the other still at your waist like an anchor. he kissed you like he was learning as he went, overexcited and sweet, stopping every few seconds just to smile at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“sorry,” he said again, breathless. “am i doing this right?”

you kissed the corner of his mouth. “you’re doing great.”

he beamed, cheeks flushed, then kissed you again—longer this time, more confident, still sloppy but full of feeling. he broke the kiss but kept his lips pressed to yours, his hands, curiously wandering down beneath your shorts and panties. michael groaned at the feeling of that silken wet heat against his fingers, his head dropping against your shoulder for a second. he couldn't believe this was happening: him in your bed, in his lap, wet for him.

"jesus," he breathed out, his fingers shifting slightly to glide over your entrance. "you’re so, so perfect.."

you whimpered, the unfamiliar feeling of his digits gliding over you was both exciting but unbelievably nerve wracking. “thank you—sorry, i’m like, nervous..”

"don’t apologize, beautiful," michael murmured, taking his time to gently kiss at the skin behind your ear. "i’m.. i’m nervous too, y'know? i just… i want you to feel good."

his fingers were still rubbing gently between your legs, his mouth moving back down to your neck so he could press soft kisses against your soft skin. "just relax, sweetheart," he said against you in a low, soothing hum. "i’ll make it good for you. promise."

at the sight of you nodding slowly, he shifted slightly beneath you—just enough to free one hand so it could slide up under your shirt and cup one perfect breast. his thumb brushed over your nipple, softly, slowly to test the waters while his other hand returned between your legs, this time pressing a single finger inside with agonizing slowness.

"tell me if it hurts," he murmured against lips that were already swollen from kissing him earlier. you nodded, lips parting in a soft ‘o’, a gentle squeak leaving your throat at the sensation of michael’s finger slipping inside you. he forced himself to slow down, to be tender and gentle with you as he held you there in his lap. he added a second finger and leaned back just a bit to study your face. "still good?" he asked quietly, his gaze fixed on your expression. "how do you feel, baby?"

your expression was nothing short of fucking beautiful, the tent in michael’s jeans being a result of that. your lips were slightly parted, your eyes glazed over, wide and curious. “feels.. god..”

he had to swallow hard at the unfinished comment, his gaze darkening at your words. it took so much not to react physically, especially when his imagination was getting away from him. how could he tell you he was above average when you were so inexperienced, new, untried? there was a time for that conversation, he told himself. but not right now.

"is it too much?" michael murmured, curling his fingers gently inside you and rubbing up against your sweet spots—just to hear that pretty gasp leave your lips again. "does it hurt?"

“a—ah!” you gasped quietly, softly, your thighs locking around his hips, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, growing shy from how vocal you were. “no, feels good. feels better..”

and fucking christ, you were going to kill him. michael bit down on the crook of your neck just to suppress the groan that the feeling of you clenching around his fingers stirred.

"good," he managed to say. "that’s—god, that's good.” he paused, watching your face carefully as he curled his fingers again. "i wanna make sure you feel good, sweetheart. i.. i wanna try something with you,”

you stared back at him, blinking at him in a way that said, hurry up, tell me. and at your wide-eyed expression his fingers stilled.

he swallowed hard, gaining courage before leaning in to brush a kiss against your lips. "wanna try me," he murmured roughly against them, "just my tip… see how it feels."

his free hand slid down between you both where the thick outline of himself strained against jeans that were suddenly way too tight for comfort, any sudden movement would have him groaning in slight pain.

you chewed on your lip, your stomach twisting with anticipation as you nodded, the sight making michael release a breath he didn’t know he was holding, his cock aching against the confines of his jeans. "yeah, baby," he said hoarsely as he gently lifted you off him and laid you down on the bed with all the reverence of someone handling something precious.

he climbed over top of you—slowly this time—and hovered just above where your legs were still parted for him. his fingers brushed along that soaked little slit one last time before pressing himself up against it, soaking wet boxers be damned, before he rid himself from the confinements of his boxers, rolling the condom over himself.

"tell me if I hurt ya," was all warning got before pushing inside inch by agonizing inch. your eyes fluttered, brows pinching together as a soft, strangled moan slipped past your tongue, gracing his ears like a prayer.

"ngh—fuck—please, baby, can i please go deeper." he was almost shaking with restraint now, sweat already beading along his forehead from how hard he was trying not to lose control.

“yeah—slowly, slowly, baby.”

michael nodded, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he forced himself to go agonizingly slow, lord knows he wouldn’t do anythin without your sayso.

"y/n,” he whined when he finally bottomed out inside you—completely buried up to where your thighs met his hips. he dropped forward slightly so that forehead pressed against yours while trying catch air between panting breaths.

you clenched around him, your eyes fluttering open to meet his; your body was so tight, so warm, like his cock had found its goddamn home. his fingers dug into your thighs as he held them up against your chest, forcing himself to stay still despite how badly wanted move.

"fuck," he choked out between gritted teeth. "you’re—yeah. fuckin’ p—perfect, baby."

he pressed a shaky kiss against lips that were already parted in little whimpers before pulling back just enough watch your face carefully while still buried inside you completely.

"you okay?" the question came out rough but gentle—because even now? even with your pussy stretched around him perfectly? he’d stop if asked too.

“yeah but, uh, i want—“

“anything,” michael cut in, a panting mess, eyes wide and staring at you, almost excited at the idea of you telling him to do something. “whatever you want, sweet girl i’ll give it to you.”

“a.. a lil more.”

michael held himself still for second longer while gauged your expression, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of discomfort. when you didn't show any, he started rocking into you slowly, almost lazily—not wanting to rush anything but needing something to ease the burning tension building low in his stomach.

he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his lips lingering there for a moment after before murmuring against your skin. "that okay for now?"

he rolled hips forward in one sharp thrust that had cock sinking even deeper inside your tight heat, then pulled back just as quickly so could do it all over again.

"shit," he groaned at the feeling around him, hands gripping your waist like a lifeline while keeping pace steady but a little relentless now, desperate. "you feel so goddamn good."

his head dropped down between your shoulders for second, because couldn't handle seeing your face anymore without losing complete control right then there.

“yeah, yeah just like that—shit..” you gasped, there was no slight pain anymore, just pure pleasure. your hands were everywhere on him—his stomach, his face, his hips. the sight of your tits bouncing with every sloppy thrust he gives you is almost enough to send him over the edge right then and there—one of his hands fly up to cup them gently, thumb flicking at those pretty nipples just to hear you gasp again.

"look at you—nghfuck, look how fucking perfect ya' take me," he all but whines; his cock drags against your cervix in a way that has stars bursting behind both your eyelids now. with every whimper that left your throat, his brain melted even more, hips slamming up into you with enough force to make your whole body jolt forward. the way your tits bounce in time with each thrust has him seeing stars, his hands flying back up to touch and squeeze just so he can watch them under his touch.

"oh—fuuck, look at you," he whispers; almost reverently. "t—takin' me so fucking deep like this... that’s my baby, my sweet.. sweet girl,"

his rhythm turns erratic as that familiar heat coils low in his stomach—the tip of his cock pressing hard against where it aches most for you. one hand slips down between y'all’s bodies; thumb circling over that clit gently. and with that you saw stars burst behind your eyelids, eyebrows pinched together in sheer pleasure, your walls clamping around him as your orgasm washed over you.

his whole body seizes up—a ragged, guttural groan tearing from his throat. "f—shit—y/n," he chokes out; hips jerking helplessly as his cock twitches deep inside you, spilling hot and thick into the condom.

the room was quiet now in that soft, post-everything way, no rush, no nerves screaming anymore, just the low hum of the house and the sound of both of you breathing a little heavier than usual.

after a bit you curled against michael’s side, blanket half tangled around your legs, his arm draped over you like he was afraid you might disappear if he loosened his grip. his skin was warm, comforting, familiar in a new way that made your chest feel too full.

for a long moment, neither of you said anything.

then michael cleared his throat.

“…hi,” he said, quietly.

you laughed, the sound small and breathy. “hi.”

he shifted slightly, immediately panicking. “sorry—did i move wrong? are you okay? you’re okay, right?”

you turned your head to look at him, smiling. “michael. i’m okay.”

he let out the most dramatic sigh of relief. “okay. good. cool. just—y’know. checking.”

there was a pause. he stared at the ceiling, cheeks pink, jaw tense like he had a million thoughts and didn’t know which one was safest to say out loud.

“that was,” he started, then stopped. “i mean—uh—”

“you don’t have to say anything,” you said gently.

“no, i want to,” he insisted, finally looking at you. his eyes were soft, nervous, sincere. “i just… i really like you. like. a lot. and i didn’t want it to be weird or bad or—”

you reached up, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “it wasn’t.”

his shoulders dropped instantly. “yeah?”

“yeah,” you nodded. “it was nice. it was… us.”

he smiled at that, small and genuine, then laughed quietly. “i can’t believe that actually happened.”

you teased softly, “you’re acting like it was a myth.”

“it kind of was,” he admitted. “like, i thought i’d like, i dunno. fall into you.”

you snorted. “you did knock your nose pretty hard into mine.”

he groaned. “oh my god, don’t remind me.”

you laughed together, the tension dissolving completely now, replaced with something warm and safe and stupidly sweet.

michael pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering. “thank you,” he murmured.

“for what?”

“for trusting me.”

your chest tightened a little. you tucked yourself closer to him, fingers tracing lazy patterns on his arm. “always.”

he smiled, pulling you in, resting his chin on the top of your head. “we’re okay, right?”

“we’re more than okay.”

“good,” he said softly. “because i really, really like being yours.”

and wrapped up in his arms, heart still fluttering, you knew—this was something you’d remember forever.

[donniedarkolover123]

punch-drunk love

pop punk baby bf. highschool au, ur an american reader, mikey’s ur sweet bf, no warnings just pure fluff!!

you don’t think you’d genuinely ever been happier. not in the loud, dramatic way people always talked about. no fireworks, no movie-montage moments; but in the quiet realization that settles into your bones when life finally feels like it fits.

the australian summer heat was sticky in a way you’d never experienced before. it clung to your skin like it had something to prove, thick and unapologetic, making everything smell like sunscreen, asphalt, and salt. the air felt heavy, like breathing through honey. sweat collected at the back of your neck, your clothes sticking to you no matter how little you wore.

girls walked around in shorts that barely counted as shorts, tank tops knotted up at the ribs, skin glowing and sun-kissed. boys pranced around shirtless like it was nothing, sunburned shoulders, messy hair, laughter loud and careless. everyone looked like they belonged there, like they’d grown up learning how to exist in heat like this.

moving from colorado to australia had been a shock to the system.

mountains to beaches.

dry cold to suffocating warmth.

snow days to sunburns.

everything felt upside down at first. you missed the quiet of the mountains, the way cold air burned your lungs, the comfort of layers. but australia had its own kind of beauty—loud, messy, alive. and thank god you’d met your friends when you did, because without them, you might’ve drowned in the culture shock.

they found you before you could get lonely. dragged you into their orbit, taught you how to survive the heat, how to laugh at yourself, how to belong somewhere that felt so far from home.

you’d only been in australia a year when you started dating your boyfriend, michael.

michael clifford was… a lot.

all dyed hair and leather bracelets, hoodies even when it was too hot, emotions worn right on his sleeve like he didn’t know how to hide them even if he tried. he felt everything deeply; music, love, heartbreak, stupid jokes, and somehow managed to be both incredibly sensitive and unbelievably .. dumb at the same time.

he was the kind of boy who’d stare at you like you were the answer to a question he didn’t know how to ask.

and also the kind of boy who once tried to microwave tin foil.

but god, did you love him.

his stupidity was charming. he was relentless when he wanted something, especially when that something was you. so when he suggested skipping class, you should’ve known you were already doomed.

“c’mon,” he’d pleaded, eyes bright, fingers laced through yours. “just one day. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”

you’d raised an eyebrow. “define ‘worth it.’”

and that’s when the bargaining started—sleepovers, coffee dates, playlists made just for you, promises of doing homework together later (lies, probably). eventually, you caved. you always did.

so there you were, the two of you sprawled underneath the bleachers, hidden from the rest of the world. the metal above you trapped the heat, turning the space into a little oven. the ground was warm beneath your back, the air thick and lazy.

michael lay beside you, arms folded behind his head, hair beginning to dampen with sweat, grinning like he’d just won something sacred. “see? best decision ever.”

you rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too.

the heat was getting to both of you, making everything slow, dreamy. your limbs felt heavy, your thoughts soft. cicadas screamed somewhere in the distance, the sound buzzing through the air like white noise.

you turned your head to look at him, this boy who had somehow become your favorite person halfway across the world. his smile was crooked, sunburn blooming on his nose, eyes warm and stupidly fond.

michael shifted, fumbling with taking his phone out from his pocket for a second, squinting at the screen like it had personally offended him, before tugging one of his headphones out and holding it up to you.

“here,” he said, already scooting closer. “you gotta hear this.”

you shifted onto your side, shoulder brushing his, and let him tuck the earbud in for you. the music crackled softly between you; something loud and messy and very michael. his arm stayed behind your head, fingers absently playing with your hair like he wasn’t even thinking about it.

you sighed. “you’re gonna ruin my hearing.”

he gasped, offended. “no way. i’m expanding your mind.”

“by blasting pop-punk at max volume?”

“art, babe,” he corrected. “this is art.”

you laughed, eyes drifting shut as the heat and the music wrapped around you. for a moment, neither of you said anything, just listened, bodies pressed together, the world above the bleachers feeling very far away.

then you tilted your head toward him. “so,” you said casually, “what’d you and your band get up to last night?”

he perked up instantly. “oh my god. don’t even get me started.”

you grinned. “start. please.”

“okay,” he said, rolling onto his side to face you, eyes bright. “calum … this.. asshole tried to convince ashton that blue fire was like, cold.” he spoke between giggles.

you snorted. “no way.”

“right? calum believed him for, like, a solid five seconds,” michael continued. “and luke—” he paused, shaking his head. “luke forgot his guitar. again.”

“how does he forget his guitar?”

“no idea,” michael said seriously. “it’s, like, an issue, actually. his memory is… phew.”

you laughed, nudging his knee with yours. “and you? what were you doing while all this chaos was happening?”

he shrugged, suddenly a little shy. “thinking about you. mostly.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks warmed. “liar.”

“swear,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. “cross my heart.”

you shook your head, smiling too much, and he took that as permission to inch closer. his forehead bumped lightly into yours, both of you laughing at the awkwardness.

“we’re gonna get caught,” you murmured, though you didn’t move away.

“worth it,” he replied instantly.

the music kept playing, forgotten now, the shared headphone dangling uselessly between you. michael’s gaze flicked down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, like he was asking without actually asking.

“hey,” he said softly.

“yeah?”

“you’re really pretty,” he blurted out, then groaned. “sorry. that was—ugh. i’m bad at this.”

you smiled, lifting a hand to his cheek. “you’re fine.”

and then you leaned in.

it was slow and a little clumsy, noses bumping, smiles melting into something softer. his lips were warm, hesitant at first, like he didn’t want to mess it up. you kissed him again, deeper this time, and he relaxed immediately, hand sliding to your waist.

it wasn’t dramatic or perfect—just sweet and lazy and very teenage. laughter bubbled between kisses, his grin brushing against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

when you finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, michael rested his forehead against yours.

“skipping class was definitely the right choice,” he murmured.

you laughed. “don’t let our teachers hear you say that.”

he kissed you once more, quick and soft. “worth it anyway.”

[donniedarkolover123]

EVOLVE

based off the best song off everyone’s a star!!! everyone thank my very creative fren @ily-mgc !!!! not really any warnings, just suggestive!

your schoolwork was something you took seriously. actually, you took most things seriously—your deadlines, your notes, the color-coded tabs in your textbooks, the way you organized your desk like it was an altar to productivity.

but nothing mattered more to you than your work.

you were studying to become a psychologist, and the human brain fascinated you in a way nothing else ever had. you wanted to understand people from the inside out—every thought, every impulse, every hidden corner they never said out loud. the messy parts, the beautiful parts, the broken pieces. all of it.

you were the girl who stayed late in the library because you “lost track of time.” the one who read case studies for fun. the one who wrote three drafts of an essay before even submitting the first.

and despite the fact that you were serious, steady, focused—your boyfriend… was not.

luke hemmings, the baby of his band, was immature in every way you weren’t.

he was a walking distraction.

a puppy in skinny jeans.

luke would up to your apartment with his guitar, playing the same riff a hundred times until you finally looked up from your textbook. he’d do this thing where he’d poke your cheek just to see if you’d break concentration.

he’d text you things like:

“do u think birds know they’re birds or are they just doin their best”

meanwhile, you were knee-deep in abnormal psych papers, trying to decode neurological patterns while your boyfriend was putting googly eyes on your houseplants “so they don’t get lonely.”

luke was immature in the way that made you sigh into your hands but also smile despite yourself.

he tripped over his words when he got excited.

he giggled—giggled—when you kissed his nose.

he’d leave half-drunk energy drinks around your apartment like a trail of evidence.

you were studying the human mind with surgical precision.

luke was struggling to remember where he left his shoes in your own place.

and that explains why you were studying-nose buried so deep in your books you barely even registered the sound of your apartment door unlocking. the lamp beside you cast a warm little circle of light over the pages, your highlighters scattered like fallen soldiers around your notebook. you were exhausted, wired, focused...

all at once.

meanwhile, luke had just stumbled in after what he claimed was a long, grueling day of hanging out with his friends-though you knew that meant he probably drank too much iced coffee, played mario kart for three hours, and got dragged into some stupid argument about whether sharks sleep.

you didn't even hear his footsteps until he was already behind you, arms snaking around your waist in that lazy, needy way he always did when he missed you. he pulled you back against his chest, your chair rolling with a little squeak across the floor, which made him giggle like a kid who wasn't supposed to be touching anything.

"babyyy, m'homeee," he whined into your neck, accent thick and dramatic, like he knew it always made you melt. "whatcha doin'? why you always workin', huh?"

he nuzzled his cheek against your shoulder like a cat wanting attention, fingers drumming against your stomach as if that alone would convince you to close the textbook. his day had been mindless and fun; yours had been intense and intellectually draining-yet he always acted like you were the one doing too much.

and somehow, even with the annoyance bubbling in your chest, you could feel the tiny smile pulling at your lips. because this was luke: childish, affectionate, interrupting you at the worst possible moment.

you didn't even bother looking up from your notes when he tightened his arms around you, chin settling on your shoulder.

"luke, i'm trying to finish this chapter," you muttered, tapping your pen against the paragraph you'd already reread three times.

he hummed dramatically, ignoring you completely. "yeah, but your boyfriend's home. shouldn't you be treating that, like... a national holiday or somethin'?"

you snorted. "absolutely not."

"wow. heartless." he pressed a loud, exaggerated kiss to your cheek. "you're bein' cruel to me, babe."

"i'm literally just studying."

"exactly! cruel."

you tried to keep your voice steady, professional—like you weren't melting under the weight of him draped over you. noticing this, luke's hands slid over your ribcage, dangerously close to an area in which luke, loved. "luke, seriously. this is due tomorrow."

he sighed against your neck, all warm breath and childish drama. "but i missed you." he stretched the word like it hurt. "missed you soooo much. been thinkin' about this all day."

your pen slowed. "you were with your friends."

"and i wanted you." he buried his face into the crook of your neck, one of his hands sliding up higher, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the underside of your boob. "you smell nice. 's not fair. can't concentrate when you smell nice."

you tried—god, you really tried-to keep your stern, focused persona intact. "luke. i need—"

"—me?" he perked up like a golden retriever.

"no," you said, though your laugh betrayed you. "i need you to let me finish this page."

he groaned loudly. "boring. let's do stuff instead,"

"we can do stuff when i'm done."

"noooo," he whined. "i want you noww. i'm starvin', baby. i'm dyin'. literally dying."

you turned your head, raising an eyebrow. "you're nineteen.”

"and?" he muttered, voice low now, uncharacteristically serious. "never too old to love your girlfriend."

and after all his dramatic whining and theatrical clinging, he finally—finally—peeled his arms off your waist.

and the second his warmth disappeared, a cold shiver crawled across your skin. it was pathetic, honestly, how instantly you missed him. the absence of his touch felt sharp, like stepping out of a hot shower into freezing air.

you exhaled, steadying yourself, pretending you didn’t feel the loss.

he was quiet. too quiet.

usually luke filled every silence with noise—humming, tapping, throwing himself across furniture like a bored cat. so the sudden stillness made something in your chest twitch.

don’t look, your brain warned. you’ll feed into it. you’ll never get back to work.

but curiosity tugged harder than discipline ever could, and you twisted in your chair—just a glance, just to check—

and there he was.

on his knees.

actually on his knees.

slowly crawling toward you like some oversized, lovesick puppy, his palms dragging softly across the hardwood as he moved. his blonde hair were a messy halo, his cheeks flushed, his eyes blown wide and pleading in a way that felt too raw to be a joke anymore.

“baby, i—” his voice cracked, breath coming in short little puffs like he’d actually run a marathon to get to you. “i really… yeah. really need ya.” he swallowed hard, gaze locked on you like you were oxygen. “baby, please come to bed.”

his hands found your ankle first, warm and tentative, like he was afraid you’d pull away. he leaned in closer until his chin rested on your thigh, looking up at you with those ridiculous, heartbreaking puppy eyes. needy, adoring, almost overwhelmed.

“luke…” you whispered, trying so hard to sound stern, but your voice had already softened around the edges, heat pooling low in your gut. god, why was this doing something to you?

“just for a bit?” he pleaded, his fingers sliding slowly up your calf, squeezing gently like he needed the reassurance of you under his hands. “please. i’m goin’ crazy, sitting out there without you. feels wrong.”

you swallowed, your book suddenly miles away.

“i’m trying to work,” you murmured.

his brows pinched, and he nudged his cheek against your thigh, eyes fluttering at the contact. “i know, i know… but i’m lonely.” he said it so simply, so honest it almost hurt. “been thinkin’ about you all day and now you’re right here and you’re not even lookin’ at me.”

“i was looking at my assignment.”

“exactly,” he huffed dramatically, pressing another soft nudge of his chin into you. “and not your boyfriend who loves you. i just.. i miss my girl.”

you laughed under your breath, brushing your fingers through his curls before you could stop yourself. he melted instantly, eyes half-lidding, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“god, you’re needy,” you teased.

“mmhm,” he agreed shamelessly. “y’know why?” his hands slid up to rest at your hips, thumbs tracing slow circles. “’cause your attention feels good. makes me feel…” he sighed, smiling in that warm, sleepy-luke way. “good. an’ i wanna make you feel good.”

you felt your resolve crack straight down the middle.

“luke, if i get up now, i’m not getting any work done.”

he beamed. “perfect. c’mon, sweetheart.” he tugged gently on your hips, voice dropping to a soft, hopeful whisper. “lemme take care of you, please?”

[donniedarkolover123]

oh my godddddddd you should totallyyyyyy right perv!incel!sub!puppy!luke x nerd!smol!nowaist!virgin!reader and they FUCK! HARDCORE STYLE! IN THE ASS!!! and lukes dick is TEN MILLION INCHES!! and readers vagina is SOOOOO LITTLE!!! AND HES GOT A LEASH! AND BUTT PLUG TAIL!! MAKE IT FREAKYYYYYYYY! TUG ON THAT THANG! and then awsten gets jealous and shocks them to death!! im hornayyyyyyy

worm OUT!!!!!!! 🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛🐛

ur so weird girl WHAT

[donniedarkolover123]

whyyy doess the nsfw ryan alphabet stop at p😭😭😭 pleasee i need that mannnnnnnn

BECAUSE WI. ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT IM TERRIBLY EMBARRASSED IM SORRY