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keeryparadise · 2 years ago

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Front-Seat Driver || K.K.

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Kurt Kunkle x fem!Reader

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[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: You have a blind date tonight, but on your way there, your Spree driver decides he has other plans. (PWP)

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[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 2.6k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: Smut, NSFW, PWP, swearing, kidnapping, almost murder, erotophonophilia (murder kink), dacryphilia (crying kink), p in v sex, sex-tape/recording sex, manipulation??, f oral sex, masturbation, fingering.

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Way too much exposition skip skip skip no one cares, psycho!Kurt, dom!Kurt, sub!Reader, Kurt slurping up your tears yum yum, Kurt slurping up a lot of your body fluids in fact, Kurt weirdly being an experienced sex God??,

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: No

[ ❥ ] NOTES: Here’s a scrap fic I decided to finish so I have more than one thing posted on here (unedited btw i'm so tired). Kurt isn’t SAing you in this btw,, also sorry I was inactive for forever my computer #broke so I couldn't write for weeks ❤

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Air blows softly from your fan, a slow buzz coming from the corner of your room where the fan sits. A citrus candle melts slowly on a shelf, the flicking flame visible in the corner of your eye.

You look at yourself in the mirror, checking if everything was perfect. Is my hair good enough? Is my makeup smudged? Does this outfit look weird? I think I need more perfume. I’ll spray some more.

You wait nervously for your Spree to arrive, fidgeting with your hair with clammy hands. You bite at some loose skin on your lip and feel yourself holding a breath. You haven’t been on a date in almost a year now, and the fact that it was a blind date didn’t make it any better. Why did you agree to this?

You fidget with your hands, pacing around the room quickly, trying to calm your nerves. You think of all the possible ways this could go wrong. There were a lot of ways.

You hear a horn honk from outside your house. Your Spree is here.

You run to grab your phone and purse and shake the last of your nerves off. You blow out your candle and click the fan off, before starting downstairs. The tap of your heels on the tile floor as you approach the kitchen stress you out. You drink a glass of water, take a deep breath, and leave your house before your Spree cancels.

A light gray car sits idly on your driveway. The blackout windows keep you from seeing who was inside, leaving you a little on edge. The app says his name is Kurt. Your hands fidget as you slowly step toward the car’s back door. You swallow deeply before opening the door.

“Kurt?” you ask. You stand outside the car holding the door open as you await a reply.

You crouch down a little to get a look at his face as he turns around to look at you. With a smile, he speaks, “Yep! I’m Kurt from KurtsWorld96, you probably know me.”

The first thing you notice about him is his unique smile. His eyes and his nose scrunch up and his chin tips up slightly. It was like a little kid’s smile. He has a little kid’s haircut too. It’s shaggy and brown and has uneven bangs.

You furrow your brows as you step hesitantly into his car. You notice cameras on every window.

“I hope you don’t mind the cameras.” He straightens his posture, looking behind him to reverse his car out of your driveway, “I need them for safety reasons. Go ahead and take a bottle of water and relax.”

“I-I’m good,” you stammer. He lets out an exasperated sigh in response.

A few minutes of silence go by of you fidgeting and sweating in the backseat of his car. I don’t think I’ve been nervous like this in a while. Is it hot in here?

His cheery voice interrupts the silence, “Soo… where are you going? Like, I know you’re going to a restaurant, but what are you doing there?” He stammers nervously. You see his thumb start to caress the steering wheel slowly.

“My friend set me up on a blind date.” You start to rub the back of your neck, “I haven’t even been on a normal date in over a year, so I’m super nervous.”

You see the driver’s eyebrow twitch slightly in his mirror, “Well I’m glad you didn’t drink that water then, because I’m also supposed to go on a blind date at that restaurant tonight.”

He’s glad I didn’t drink the water? What?

“I guess it’s a not-so-blind date now.” He chuckles nervously, gripping his steering wheel tightly.

“Yeah.” You fake out a laugh.

I can’t believe this guy is my blind date. He’s so… weird.

You sit in silence for the rest of the drive. A thick and uncomfortable silence. The kind of silence that you know you both can feel. It was the longest three minutes of your life.

Kurt speeds past the restaurant the two of you were supposed to meet at.

“Kurt? You just passed the restaurant.”

Kurt gives you a look in his mirror, “I know.”

He presses his foot harder on the gas pedal, and you push back in your seat slightly.

“Kurt, where are we going?” Your knee bounces as you try to study your surroundings through the night’s dark filter.

He tilts his head to the right, “I thought maybe we could go somewhere else instead. Fancy restaurants aren’t really my thing.” He gives the camera a look.

You scoff, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast, Kurt please turn back.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you ramen or something.” He gives another look to the camera.

Your face contorts into a confused mess, “Are we going to your house?”

He looks at you again through the mirror, “Yeah obviously, where else would I be taking you?” He rolls his eyes and puts them back on the road.

You kick his seat in frustration, “I don’t know, a park, or maybe the restaurant we were planning to go to in the first place?”

He rolls his eyes, “Just relax, we aren’t even that far from my house now.”

You sit back in your seat, defeated and arms crossed. It’s useless to argue with him now, this man is clearly insane.

After a few more miles, he pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park. He takes his keys out of the ignition and turns around to look at you, “We’re here.” He smiles his stupid little boy smile. He turns back around and grabs his phone from its holder. He opens his car door and steps out, walking up to your door and opening it too, “After you,” he sings sarcastically, waving his arm in a polite way.

You sit still with your arms crossed, refusing to move.

Kurt rolls his eyes, “Come on, get out of the car.”

“No.”

He moves closer to you, reaching his arm over your chest to find the seatbelt, “Come on-”

You push his arms away from you, “No, I’m not getting out!”

He insists, reaching again for the seatbelt, fighting you to get it off. The seat belt clicks, and he starts pulling you out of the car.

“No!” you yell, “Let go of me!”

He’s surprisingly strong and manages to pull you out of the car. You hit your head on the concrete, hard, and you barely have enough time to recover before he picks you up bridal style.

He moves toward the front door with you in his arms and spends a solid minute trying to unlock it without setting you down. He pushes his front door open and carries you to his room. You lay helplessly in his arms, barely conscious.

You hate to admit it, but this is something you’ve fantasized about over and over. Your weird obsession with psychotic characters has corrupted how you think, and you feel almost turned on by this.

“Kurt,” you mutter under your breath, “Kurt, where are we?”

He sets you gently on his bed and kneels next to your helpless body, “We’re in my room.” You see what you think is a smile creep onto his face.

He stands up and walks toward a tripod set up in the center of the room. He places his phone in it and rambles to the camera.

He looks back at you and starts to walk over. He kneels next to his bed to look at you and places a gentle hand on your cheek, caressing it with his thumb, “You’re so beautiful.” He brushes your hair off of your forehead and presses a kiss to it. He gives you a different smile than usual. A smile with eyes coated in intimacy and eyebrows pressed together with desire. Nothing like that little boy smile you thought was so unique.

He studies you through narrow lids, his hand moving from your cheeks to the deep indent in your waist. The sudden heat on that sensitive spot sends a shock down your legs, and you let out a soft whimper. You squeeze your legs closer together at the sudden heat forming in your pants. Kurt notices, shifting his gaze to your lower half. He looks up at his ceiling, chewing on his lip.

“I was going to kill you,” he looks back down at your face and looks you in your eyes, “but that was before I knew I could make use of you.”

You turn away from him and bury your face in his sheets, letting out a quiet whimper. A single tear leaves your eye and absorbs into the fabric.

Kurt shushes you and caresses the top of your head with his hand. He plants a small kiss on the top of your head and grabs your face violently, that action directly contrasting his gentle kiss. He forces you to look at him in his eyes. You feel another tear forming in the corner of your eye. It falls slowly down your cheek, and Kurt sticks his tongue out to lick it away.

“Salty,” he purrs.

A sudden need for him washes over you, your clit tingling at the thought of your walls wrapped warmly around his erection. You barely even know the guy, but somehow he’s got you wrapped tightly around his finger.

“Fuck me, Kurt,” you whisper in a low, raspy tone.

Kurt flinches backward slightly at your sudden submission and smiles. His hand travels down your stomach and into the opening of your skirt. Two of his fingers slowly massage your clit on top of your panties. You bite back a moan and throw your head back slightly into his pillows. His fingers push their way under the hem of your panties and slowly press themselves through your entrance. A soft moan manages to escape your lips.

“Like that?” he breathes.

You nod shakily and practically beg him on top of you with your eyes. You grab onto his shoulder for support and grind into his curling fingers, pushing yourself in and out hungrily. Breathy moans escape your mouth every time you feel the shockwaves from Kurt’s fingertips curling inside your walls.

He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and you give him a quiet whimper. He pushes you away and stands up, sucking your juices off of his fingers.

“You taste so good,” he coos.

You stare up at Kurt and watch him take his shirt off, throwing it carelessly across the room. He steps back toward his bed and mounts himself on top of you, his legs on either side of your hips and his arms pinning your wrists to the mattress.

Kurt presses your lips together softly. He quickly pulls away, leaving you leaning in, begging for more. Kurt starts moving his lips down your body. He sucks the teary flavor from your cheeks and leaves dark hickies along your neck and collarbone. He pulls your shirt down and sucks on each breast hard. His tongue swirls around each nipple, the wet warmth of his mouth sending a twitch to your legs. Each breast is left with a dark magenta spot where his mouth had just been. He leaves gentle kisses down your stomach and stops at the hem of your skirt.

Kurt flips your skirt up and kisses each of your thighs. You push your hips up slightly, and he kisses the wet spot on your panties. A gentle finger caresses your clit, teasing you.

He slides your panties off your body and sets each of your legs on his shoulders to get perfect access to his meal. He flicks the tip of his tongue teasingly on your clit, causing you to flinch. He licked his lips and soon Kurt had his face buried between your thighs.

His tongue made laps around your entrance, going in and out slowly. He flicked at your clit causing you to moan his name every time. He kissed and sucked at the fleshy pink and slurped at your juices. Your back arched every time he found your sweet spot, and eventually, he was only going over that spot. Shockwaves sent down your thighs causing you to press your hips closer into his face.

Kurt stops with one last kiss on your clit and crawls back up to your face. He presses his lips onto yours and lets you taste yourself in his mouth. He starts grinding his hips into your body, and you quickly attempt to pull off his belt. You throw his belt across the room and tear off his jeans. Kurt slides his boxers off and frees his growing erection, precum already shining on the tip. You grab his dick and start slowly pumping. Kurt groans into your mouth, sending vibrations down your throat.

“Oh God, please just put it in,” you beg breathlessly. You let go of his cock, and he slowly presses himself through your entrance.

You let out a breathy moan at the first insertion, and he starts slowly setting a pace. You feel yourself sinking into his cock. You bang your hips together and you moan Kurt’s name every time he finds your g-spot. Your nails dig into his back, and you pull his hips down harder, swearing and moaning his name desperately.

The both of you are panting and whining by the time he says he’s close.

“Oh god, baby I think I’m close,” he moans, “F-fuck. Keep going, just like that.” He stammers and stutters, barely able to form sentences.

“Me too baby, keep going, please.” You desperately try to press him into you deeper each time, but his thrusts are getting sloppy. Your wetness squelches every time he sinks his dick into you.

“F-fuuck, that’s it,” he cries out, his chest heaving heavily, “Oh my god, I’m about to cum.”

He thrusts faster and faster, getting closer every time. You feel the tingle crawling up your thighs, signaling you’re close.

You throw your head back into the pillows, craving the sweet release. His last thrust hit the spot perfectly, and you’re engulfed in an all-consuming orgasm, your entire vision going white and your vocal cords almost bursting from your last moan.

You feel Kurt’s warm cum fill you up, and the moan he lets out nearly gives you a second orgasm.

His muscles barely hold him up over your body and you can see sweat daring to drip off his chin and splatter on your chest. One does manage to drip off and land right in your cleavage. It almost burns.

He pants heavily over you, not daring to make eye contact. You see strands of hair stuck to his forehead and you push them away revealing his eyes. He fixes his gaze on you, his pupils dilating entirely, and he presses himself into you giving you a sloppy kiss.

He pulls away and lets his head dangle, a hot breath finding its way on your neck. “Fuck, that was good,” he rasped. You manage a weak hum in response.

He slowly slides himself out of you. He can barely balance himself as he stands up and hobbles weakly to his camera. You hear him speak to his audience, but it’s all muffled. Your head still hurts and you’re still experiencing the after-shock of it all.

Kurt turns his camera off and stands over you.

“Want a water?” He asks.

“What?”

“You look exhausted, do you want some water.”

“Okay, sure.”

He goes to the other side of his room and retrieves a bottle of water from a corner of his room. He hands it to you and you drink it slowly.

Huh, it tastes kind of funny.

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[ ❥ ] ~ KEERY PARADISE

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keeryparadise · 2 years ago

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Hands All Over Each Other || S.H.

[ ❥ ] PAIRING: Steve Harrington x Reader

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[ ❥ ] SYNOPSIS: You and your alluring neighbor Steve live on the same apartment floor. You’ve been dying to get a moment alone with him, and when you both get trapped in an elevator together, you feel more excited than scared. Barely ten minutes pass, and before you know it, your hands are all over each other.

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[ ❥ ] WORD COUNT: 2.1k

[ ❥ ] WARNINGS: Cliche plot asf, mention of sexual/steamy content, kissing/making out, hickies, y/n definitely has a hand kink, y/n is a pervy stalker, y/n wants to shower with steve, hand sex?? /j

[ ❥ ] INCLUDES: Nervous/awkward/embarrassed Steve, dom!Steve, hand massage, wayy too much hand talk, too much fluff, the most palpable tension ever created.

[ ❥ ] REQUESTED: No

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It was an honest accident, or maybe a miracle from God. Yeah, definitely a miracle from God. You think.

Just seconds ago, you stood fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for the elevator to come. Now you stand in the corner of said elevator, knowing those doors won’t be opening again for a long time. And God, are you so glad that the doors won’t be opening anytime soon, forcing you to be stuck alone with your next-door neighbor Steve.

You’ve been practically drooling over Steve Harrington since he moved in next door to you a few months ago. You’ve only talked to him once when he came to your door to introduce himself. But you’ve seen him a lot.

You memorized his schedule: you hear his alarm ring every morning at 7:30. He takes 20 minutes to get ready and leaves at eight to get coffee. Sometimes you follow him. He works until five in the evening and watches TV for the rest of the day. He then showers at ten and goes to bed when he’s finished.

Sometimes you like to imagine him in the shower. Skin slick with water, his hair wet and dripping beads down his toned skin. Those goddamn hands, combing soap through his hair. Eyes closed, facing warm water, goosebumps forming on his neck from heat. The steam fogging up his mirror, surrounding his entire body. Deep breaths as he struggles to breathe in the thick, steamy air.

Sorry. What were we talking about?

He gets his mail every Sunday, around 11. Today you decided to follow him, maybe, strike up a conversation in the elevator. If you’re lucky, you want to try to make your fantasies a reality.

Oh God, were you happy when the elevator came to a sudden halt on the third floor, not moving, not opening its doors.

You and Steve give each other worried looks when the doors don’t open for much too long to be considered normal. His eyebrows raise, pulling together as he nervously steps forward.

“I don’t think that was supposed to happen,” he spoke with an uneasy smile.

You nod, “Yeah, definitely not.”

He steps over to the panel of buttons and pushes the ‘open door’ button. For a moment, he stands impatient, awaiting a response.

Nothing.

He spams the button repeatedly with his thumb, practically banging on the panel at one point. He gives up with a frustrated punch and an irritated sigh.

“Well,” he starts, “I guess we’re stuck here.” He pushes himself up against the wall, his head leaning back, as he slides down the wall to sit.

“Yep,” you reply, mirroring his actions. You sit in front of each other, cross-legged. He doesn’t make eye contact.

He sighs, “Nothing to do but wait, I guess.”

You quirk your head slightly, “That’s not entirely true,” you insist, “who knows how long we’ll be here, might as well get to know each other. We’re neighbors, after all.”

He gives you a slow nod and makes eye contact for a brief instant. You never noticed it before, but his eyes were brown.

He gives you a low sigh before speaking, “So, where were you off to before this?”

Following you, actually.

“Getting the mail.”

Steve lets out a low chuckle, his posture hunching slightly, “Me too.” He smiles at you.

I know.

“Oh,” you try to sound surprised, “What a coincidence then!”

He refrains from making eye contact still and instead stares at a big, yellow stain on the floor. It’s flattering that he prefers that over you!

Steve’s hands lay awkwardly in his lap, visibly clammy. You’ve never had the chance to get such an up-close look at his hands before, but now that you do, they’re much better than you imagined. And God, they look much better, dripping in a nervous sweat. His fingernails curve into a hill, practically spotless. His wrists and knuckles look so delicate that they could break under too much pressure, yet you can’t help but imagine him so clearly breaking you with those same fingers. His wrist bones pose prominently due to the positioning of his hands, and you feel the heat in your pants grow every time you see them shift under his skin. You’ve never seen more delicate hands on a man, yet you can’t even begin to imagine what he’d do to you with them.

“My eyes are up here,” Steve scolds.

You finally break the gaze on his hands to look up at him, blushing from embarrassment.

“Sorry, I just-” you stammer and stutter, tripping over your words, “I really like your hands, and I guess I zoned out looking at them.” You didn’t mean to put that much emphasis on really.

Steve gives you a blushy smile and scoots a few feet closer, putting out his left hand, “You can touch it if you want to. It doesn’t bite, I hope.”

You giggle, covering your mouth, and deny him politely, “No, seriously, I was just zoning out. I don’t want to touch your hands.”

He breaks eye contact and looks away, his kind smile folding into a frown. His eyebrows point up, and he uses his hand to cover his blushing face.

“Ah, okay.”

Your stomach drops seeing the embarrassed look on Steve’s face, and you grab his hand with both of yours in one swift motion. He makes eye contact again, his lips slightly parted. You look down at his hand, sitting tense in yours. Your thumb brushes against the back of his hand like a feather, intimately and soft.

You feel his eyes staring at the top of your head and look back up at him through your eyelashes, desire sparkling and mixing in the colors. His pupils dilate at the sudden eye contact, and you press more firmly into his hand, maintaining magnet-like staring with your eyes. The deep brown of his eyes mix with the black of his pupil, and soon everything is a mess of chocolate-colored desire and intimacy.

Your thumbs push firmly between Steve’s knuckles and along the back of his hand, and you feel knots of tension release with every press. You massage his palm with the rest of your fingers and finally break eye contact to flip his hand over and study his palm. You cup the back of his hand with one of yours and use your other hand to trace the lines in his palm with a careful index finger.

“You can hand read?” Steve questions.

You shake your head and continue tracing his lines with the nail on your pointer finger, “No, I’m just studying you.”

You close his hand and tilt your face back up at his eyes to see the blush spread on his cheeks. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you stroke his fist with both thumbs, slow and careful.

You look back down at Steve’s hand and give it back.

It’s not until you look back into his eyes that you realize how close you have gotten to each other’s faces. A hot breath escapes his parted lips, warming up your entire face. You’re so close that your noses touch, causing you to flinch backward from the shock.

A small whisper attempts to escape your lips, and a barely recognizable “thank you” is all you can manage. You cover your face in embarrassment and lean away from the heated body in front of you.

You hear him clear his throat to speak, “Yeah, anytime.”

Anytime? Do you really mean anytime? I’d love to do that all the time actually, let me give you massages all the time, it doesn’t just have to be your hands, I do other things too if you want. I definitely want to. Please let me massage you all the time-

Steve places a gentle hand on your knee and brushes it with his finger. The sudden warmth startles you out of an obsessive trance, and you look back at him longingly.

He gives you an awkward smile, “You still have to do the other hand.”

You twist your body back toward him and slowly pick his right hand up with yours. You repeat the same process, gently kneading his hands like a thick dough. You press on certain spots, releasing tension in his wrist and knuckles, slowly and delicately. You try desperately to make this moment last.

You press down on the spot between his index and middle finger’s knuckles, and Steve lets out a soft moan. The hand you were just massaging flies straight onto his mouth, and he furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I don’t know what that was, I’m so sorry.”

You stare at him for a moment, expressionless, and pull his right hand back into yours. You find the spot again, pressing softly at first. He bites his lip with his eyebrows pulled together, holding back something desperately trying to crawl its way out of his vocal cords. You glimpse up at him through thick eyelashes and pull his hand closer into your lap. His index finger twitches nervously from the pressure between his knuckles. You can see the desperation sparking in his eyes as you inch closer. You don’t flinch when your noses touch this time.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes.

You give him a smug smile, lips mocking him, “It’s a little too early for that, isn’t it? Buy a girl a drink first.”

Steve inches away and looks at your surroundings, “Oh, I wish I could, but um-” he makes eye contact again, “It seems I’m stuck in an elevator right now. Sorry.”

You let go of his hand to cover your laugh.

“That’s true, I guess.” You inch back toward him, cupping a hand to his cheek and using your other hand to interlock your fingers in your lap.

Steve wraps his free hand around your waist. Even over your shirt, you feel all the warmth from his hand seeping through the fabric, making your stomach tingle. His eyes narrow, and his smile fades as he inches closer, lips barely pursing.

Your hot breaths mix in the small pocket of air you share between your faces. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Your stomach churns and dances inside you.

You press down on the spot between Steve’s knuckles, and he melts into you.

He pushes himself on top of you, pinning you to the disgusting elevator floor, one hand cupped to your face and the other hands down on the floor. He smashes your lips together, barely able to control himself anymore. His legs wrap around your waist as he pushes your bodies together.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to your body. He lets out a breathy swear when you accidentally press your body into the bulge in his jeans. You arch your back in an attempt to feel more of the heat from his body. Your arms travel up his back, tracing the indent of his back muscles with a gentle finger.

Steve passionately presses your lips together, breathing deeply as he practically grinds himself into you.

You let out a quiet moan, throwing your head back to give him access to your neck. He plants particular kisses on your collar bone, slowly moving up to your neck. He pushes your hair out of the way to start kissing you all over, looking for the spot you like the most.

It didn’t take long before he found your sweet spot. His lips suck at your neck, and his tongue swirls on the skin in his mouth. You arch your back upward into him with another soft moan. You press your waist into his jeans again, causing him to free your neck from his mouth and let out a shuddery breath.

Steve eyes the hickies now decorating your neck, pleased with himself. He positions your face back in front of his and plants a kiss on your sucked lips.

Your breath hitches when the elevator lets out a quiet ding, and the two of you jump out of each other’s grasp, startled. You feel the elevator start to move again.

You make brief eye contact with Steve, the two of you trying to process the interruption. The elevator dings again, and the door opens to the first floor.

You both stand up slowly, in shock, straightening your clothes and fixing your hair.

“We’ll have to finish this another time,” Steve starts, “I need to get my mail.” He leaves you alone in the elevator as the door closes on you and your confused face.

That really just happened, didn’t it?

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[ ❥ ] ~ KEERY PARADISE

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #duffer brothers #joe keery #joe keery x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things one shot #stranger things fic #i love you steve harrington #he's the only reason i watch the show anymore

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