#going feral for fem steve | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thornsnvultures · 11 months

Text

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor.

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom.

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head.

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent.

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

🖤

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3K notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 1 year

Text

cherry pie.

pairing— dilf!steve harrington x fem babysitter!reader

w/c— 4.5k

♡ summary— turns out your little crush on mr harrington isn’t so one-sided after all, and after many unsuccessful dates, he starts to realise that no one is as good to him as you are.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, age gap (unspecified, but reader is early 20s, steve is early 40s), heavy on the daddy kink i’m sorry, hung!steve, oral (m receiving), praise, nipple play?, breeding kink, smut goes 0-100 real quick sorry, unprotected p in v (wear protection in real life please), steve’s hairy chest makes an appearance bc i’m feral for it, terrible TERRIBLE ending bc it’s me and you should expect it by now!!!

a/n— pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!!

˖ ࣪⭑

You felt pathetic.

Sat on the couch, aimlessly staring at some black and white re-runs on the television while you waited for him. Mr Harrington— clad in his formal attire, he had mentioned before he left while fumbling to put on his watch that he had a date, one that he was already extremely late for— and shit, you couldn’t help the way your chest ached with jealousy, a lump forming in the back of your throat while you tried your best to keep up your sweetest smile.

“Help yourself to anything, honey- what’s mine is yours, you know that.” he spoke, and you held out his coat for him, helping him slip it up his arms and over those broad fucking shoulders, mulling over his choice of words and that stupid pet name.

Whats mine is yours. What’s mine is yours. What’s mine is yours.

“Thanks hon, I’ll be back a little late tonight- kids need to be in bed by 9 at the latest and remember to call me if you need anything.” You nodded, muttering a small okay, before he pressed a little kiss to your forehead, “alright, see you later.”

So hours later, with both kid’s tucked up into bed all tuckered out, you thought about him— the way he looked, so handsome in his shirt and tie, expensive cologne pressed into his wrists and behind his ears, filling your senses completely when he leaned to press his usual friendly kiss, one that never failed to have your knees buckling underneath you.

But that was all it was. Friendly. You were just the babysitter, too young for him, too inexperienced for him, and your face soured when you thought about what his date might look like. Pretty dress and manicured nails wrapping around the glass that held her too-expensive wine, fluttering her lashes and running her leg against his underneath the table— she was probably a lot closer to his age too.

You sighed, pout prominent on your lips, trying to snap yourself out of whatever you had going on, falling for an older man all while you babysat his kids.

Yeah, so pathetic.

12:3am— the clock ticked away upon the mantle piece, going by so slowly you had started to feel your eyes become heavy, though you were soon snapped out of your little stupor at the sound of the front door closing, footsteps clicking along the hall and keys being thrown on the counter.

You rushed to get up, inwardly scolding yourself for seeming so eager, before making your way out to greet him.

“Hey, honey-” his usual smile wasn’t there, instead a frown etched at the corners of his lips, brows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Everything go okay?”

You nodded, but quickly followed up with an answer at the quirk of his brow— he liked when you used your words.

“It went great- I think I really tired them out,” you smiled, pulling at the collar of his coat to take it off him, watching him fix himself some whiskey, the crystal tumbler clacking against the rings on his fingers all while he settled himself on the leather armchair.

You frowned at his lack of conversation— he was usually so chatty, cooing over you for being so sweet to take care of his kids for him, but there he was, silent and mulling over god knows what.

“Mr Harrington?” You inched closer, toeing at the carpet and fiddling with your fingers, not entirely sure how to approach him. “Is everything alright?”

His eyelids fluttered shut, huffing a breath through his nose and you took the time to take a good look at him. His shoulders tense, legs spread wide and the fist that held the whiskey was paling from his constant squeezes.

“I’m fine, doll, really-” he sighed, unoccupied hand scratching along the stubble that littered his pretty jaw. “S’just- m’so tired of these dates.”

Your lips jutted down in a frown, much similar to his, anything that masked the smile that wanted to form— you know it was terrible, but knowing his date went bad, it made a little bit of hope flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

So you sank to your knees, reaching for the laces to his polished shoes, pulling at the string to the bow to loosen it completely.

“Did you wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling at the heel and putting it to the side to work on the other.

You saw him stutter, eyes glazing over a little bit at the way you knelt in front of him, all doe-eyed and doting on him, pretty lashes fluttering up at him whether you knew it or not.

“I-” he started, swallowing hard when your hands rested against his thighs, both shoes untied and discarded somewhere next to you. “They’re just- none of them are right for me.”

Your fingers kneaded at his tense thighs, trailing back and forth against the fabric of his pressed slacks.

“Shit—” he cupped your face in his big palm, stroking at the pudge of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “No one is as good to me as you are, honey.”

You beamed up at his cooing, letting a giggle slip from your throat, giddy and inebriated from his little touches.

“I can make you feel good, too, Mr Harrington-” you were bashful when you said it, skin flushed and gaze flitting to the arm of his chair, fingertips still smoothing over the expanse of his thighs. “Let me make you feel good- please.”

Steve groaned, chest rumbling and he pushed his head back— you watched his adam’s apple bob while he swallowed, his neck on display and you pushed your thighs together when you thought about how pretty it would look covered in your lipstick stains.

“Honey— we can’t-” he stumbled over his words, gazing down at you with such a fondness in his eyes and there was something else, too, swirling around in his vision, all dark and honeyed, glistening in the low light of the lamps. “I’m too old for you— it isn’t right.”

“But, daddy—” you whined, his cock throbbed once you said it, rutting up from beneath his slacks and your fingers itched to press against the bulge there. “you said it yourself, no one is as good to you as I am.”

He felt like a teenager again, close to blowing his load already from the way you said that name. Your name for him and him only.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

It swirled around in his thoughts over and over, round and round, and he had to press a palm against his cock to ease the throbbing just a little, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened, flitting towards his hand.

“Christ, honey— didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He suckled his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing down at you, all warm and gooey, melting your insides into mush, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and throat. “You really want an old man like me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, pout prominent on your puffy lips.

“You’re not old,” he chuckled at that, “want you so bad- want you to be my daddy.”

˖ ࣪⭑

It didn’t take long for you to get his pants off, he even helped you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips up so you could bring them down to his thighs— along with his boxers of course, the sight that sprung from the material leaving you dumb and gawking.

He was huge, both in length and thickness. The rumours really were true, Steve Harrington was absolutely well-endowed, the tip a pretty pink, beaded with pre-cum that just started to trickle along his shaft and into the ridges that ran along the length.

Steve chuckled at your wide eyes, knuckles smoothing against your cheek and chin, eyeing at your parted lips and his cock twitched again when he thought about pressing his thumb between them.

“You’re so big.” You managed to choke out, fingers tentatively wrapping around his base— thumb and fingers barely meeting in the middle from the sheer thickness of it.

You squeezed, hard, watching the way his tummy muscles clenched and his tip leaked.

“I know, sweet girl, but you’re gonna take it so well—” he hissed through clenched teeth at the way your fingers felt, “promise.”

You nodded up at him, already cock-drunk and dumb from his coos, pouting prettily while you felt him up, smearing his pearly pre-cum around, lubing him up real good before you got to work.

“Fuckin’ Christ—” he moaned, your puffy lips wrapped snugly around him after pressing a spongy kiss to his tip, suckling him slightly and lathering your tongue against the thick vein that ran upwards, before pulling off with a lewd pop.

The corners of your lips curled, fluttering your lashes and running your tongue from base to tip, kissing up his shaft and pressing the imprint of your lipstick into his flushed skin.

“Doesn’t that feel good, daddy?” You took him down your throat before he could answer, already touching the back and it wasn’t even all of him, earning a groan that rumbled the span of his chest.

“Y-yeah, honey, feels so good—” he cradled your head, fingers tangling in the strands of your hair, “such a daddy’s girl, hm?”

You hummed around his cock in response, thighs squeezing impossibly close from how turned on you were, arousal practically dripping through your underwear and slicking up the fat of your thighs.

“Yeah you are—” he grinned, pushing you down further, choking you entirely and causing you to gag around his hefty length. “Atta girl.”

It was messy, spit trickling down your chin, pooling along your tits and ruining your makeup— your mascara running down your cheeks in long, black lines and clumping up your sticky lashes.

You were crying, too— tears slipping over your brimming waterline, eyes all glassy and cute, swirly little sparkles floating around your irises whenever you looked up at him.

He looked so pretty, skin glistening with perspiration, a few buttons on his shirt undone and showing off the expanse of his handsome chest, the sight of the course dark hair had you drooling on his cock even more.

“So good to me,” he cooed, “all mine.”

You felt your eyes rolling back, clit pulsing furiously at the idea of being his and his only— you just wanted to be filled by him and bounce on his cock like a little bunny, let him fuck you nice and deep so you’d feel him for days.

“Say it, honey—” he pulled at your hair, cock falling from your lips, “say you’re mine.”

“M’all yours, daddy.” You preened, clutching at his thighs, leaving crescent moons in your wake, “only want you.”

“Fuck— come ‘ere,” he helped you stand up, lips curling upwards slightly when you stumbled on your feet, patting at his lap. “On my lap, there we go.”

You settled yourself, knees digging into the sides of the chair either side of him, hands already drawn to his chest and your palms smoothed over it, tugging at the hair there and thumbs grazing slightly over his nipples.

Steve’s big arms enveloped you, wrapping you up in a sort of hug, bringing your cheek down to smoosh against his chest, letting you nuzzle into him.

It was a strange sort of calm— a few minutes wrapped up, somewhat sated though still needy and pining for each other’s affection. It was nice.

You realised it was nice to feel like you were his.

“What do you need, honey?” He muttered, chin pressed against your head, hands trailing along your back and sometimes slipping to the plush of your ass.

“Wanna be yours,” your whine was muffled by the press of his fuzzy chest, “wanna make you feel good— all the time.”

His cock throbbed at the way you spoke, so crude and sweet, honeyed words travelling straight between his legs and causing him to drip.

He was in too deep and it was not good.

“Come on then, doll-” he cooed, smacking a kiss to your flushed cheek and patting at your ass to get your attention. “Show daddy.”

You nodded, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, huffing out a breath of frustration before letting him take over, watching with bated breaths as is hands pushed your shirt to the floor, smoothing his palms along your tits and kneading at the covered mounds.

“So pretty, baby,” he pulled at the cups of your bra, letting the weight of your breasts spill over the underwire and the cute little bow that sat in between, showing off your nipples and the way they hardened completely from under his gaze. “Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ these pretty girls from me.”

Both of Steve’s thumbs grazed over your nipples, bringing his forefingers to squeeze and pull at them, tugging them just to make you mewl and feel the wet spot underneath your skirt grow even larger. And you were putty in his hands, melting into his touch, inebriated from the way he spoke to you, touched you, looked at you.

God, he was handsome.

“Daddy—” you whined, clutching at his wrists and grinding against his cock.

“What is it, honey?” His face was so close to yours, eyes fixated on your pretty tits and he made a quick mental note to pay more attention to them later on.

“Wan’ you to fuck me.” So abrupt, pouting over-exaggerated and lashes fluttering— your pussy way too slick and aroused to have anything other than his cock inside, stretching you out and filling you so lovely.

“Such a greedy thing already-” he pulled you in closer, “barely sucked my cock and you’re just so needy, honey.”

“Can’t help it,” you leaned forward, nose against his, tracing the tip over his cheek and along the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses. “So handsome.”

Steve’s head was in a tizzy, twirling around all dumbified at how pliant you were, how sweet and doting— small praises like that were so big for him, making that blotchy raspberry blush creep and wrap around his neck, fluttering down his chest and even speckling the tips of his ears (the colour much akin to the rouge tip of his cock).

“Gimme a kiss, sweet girl.” Voice so smooth despite the stern undertone, gliding from his teeth to the tip of his tongue and bringing you even closer with a hand cupped around the nape of your neck, fiddling with the little, sensitive hairs that adorned the space.

You obeyed of course, completely eager if anything, practically bouncing at the chance to press your mouth to his. You had been waiting for it, so had he, the soft, spongy kisses— one, two, three, in a quick peckpeckpeck, before it turned deeper, mouths locking, feeling yourself sigh and relax against the firmness of his chest, allowing his to work you open as much as he desired.

The crude, slippery feeling of your tongues finally clashing had you reeling— licking into each other’s mouths and suckling on bottom lips, breath hitching in your throat and you resulted to pressing your palms against his cheeks as a way to ground you before you started floating away from his inebriating kiss.

“Want-” kiss. “Want me to take care of you—” kiss. “Don’t you, honey?”

Oh yes. God you wanted it so bad, you had ever since you laid eyes on him the first time you had met him— nervous and picking at your cuticles, standing shy as he opened his front door with that smile of his, full of charm and warmth— a little cocky at your shyness, though still stuck out a hand for you to shake. You distinctly remembered getting a little light-headed at the mere feeling of his big hand enveloping yours.

He chuckled when you nodded, eyes all dizzy and hooded and he sucked your tongue between his kiss-bitten lips.

“Pretty cunt is fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, baby,” he cupped at the heat between your thighs, your skirt bunched up around the fat of your waist and he thumbed at the pearl of your clit over the sopping fabric that covered you. “Does she want daddy’s cock? Bet she does, huh?”

Your eyes were rolling again, and you were surprised any part of you still functioned. You felt so dumb, so cock-drunk, and you wondered how on earth you would act with his fat cock stuffed deep inside you, jamming at your insides and fucking you until you couldn’t think, just feel.

“Please.” It was a simple utterance, barely there, fluttering your lashes while you said it to sway him, to quicken the pace and have him fill you, though the tears that slipped weren’t for show, brimming down your cheeks constantly from how overwhelmed you were feeling.

“Please, what? What d’you want?”

You pouted at him, nosing at his cheek, not budging until he brought a palm down against your ass, spanking it sharply and swiftly, knocking the air from your already weakened lungs.

“Come on, don’t get shy on me now,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling upwards until the crotch of them slipped between your folds, snug against your clit and making you mewl. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it t’you.”

“W-want you to fill me up— wan’ your cock inside me, please-”

“Atta girl, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You watched with widened eyes as he gripped at the base of his cock, and still, every time you stared at it, the size of him left you a little breathless, wondering whether he would even fit.

He tugged your underwear to the side, the pink cotton basically see-through and glistening, and he let out a breathy moan at his first glance at your bare pussy. So pretty, so ready for him— wet and slick, clit all engorged and peaking from the hood, begging for some stimulation and you made a similar sound when he tapped his tip against it, pushing it downwards against your hole, collecting your sweet arousal before repeating the action, over and over and over again.

“Don’t get all pouty, gotta make sure you’re ready f’me, honey.”

You wanted to scream at him, holler at the top of your lungs that you were ready— so fucking ready, but you couldn’t, not when his kids were upstairs asleep— you couldn’t afford for them to wake up, you didn’t want the attention to end.

And that was what it come to— selfishly, you wanted all the attention he had to give.

He looked at you, pressed a kiss to your forehead, the glasses that sat upon his bridge slightly askew and you leaned to fix them.

“You think you can take it, baby, or did you want my mouth for a bit?”

A good offer, but you shook your head still, you’d have that later if he was willing, and the mere idea of having him feast upon your pussy had you dripping on the velvety skin of his cock even more than before.

Steve made a humming noise in the back of his throat, before pulling at your thighs, tugging you closer to his chest and having you hover over the length of his cock, just waiting as patient as you could for him to sit you down onto him.

“Be a good girl now— gotta relax f’me.” His hand on your hip helped you sink, the other still wrapped around the base, feeding it slowly into your greedy pussy, watching with a heaving chest at the way your cunt sucked him in, but he could feel the stretch of your walls around him.

“Waitwaitwait—” you gasped out a breath you had been holding, “just need a minute.”

You felt so full, stretched completely, a little less than half of his cock sat inside you and it was still bigger than any you had taken before.

He coddled you, shushing you and pushing a hand up to smooth over your hair.

“Take your time, honey—” he hummed, smacking a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I know it’s a lot to take.”

“You’re huge.” He chuckled at that, though he couldn’t fight the little hitch in his breath when your walls clenched around him, trying hard to adjust.

“I know, I know, but you’re already takin’ it so well.”

The praise had you drip further, the see-through lines of arousal slipping over the rivets on his cock, creating an obscene squelching sound when you lowered yourself a little further.

Just over half now, splitting you open, practically in your guts, you thought at least, and you were sure if you pressed hard enough on the plush of your stomach you would probably feel him there.

“There you go-” he was still cooing at you and you gave him your biggest heart eyes, pout permanently etched onto your lips, and he hoped it wasn’t going anywhere soon. “shit, y’don’t even need any help, takin’ it like a fucking’ champ.”

Almost there, almost all of him was nestled snug inside your cunt, so in a swift movement, you sunk down entirely, a rather less-than-quiet moan simmering from your lips and if it was just the two of you in the house, he would’ve basked in your loudness and pretty whines, but it wasn’t— and the two of you really needed to be quiet.

He pressed a palm over your mouth to stifle your sounds, your lips kissing the divots on the front of his hand, so warm and large, big enough it covered your whole chin and your lashes fluttered at the feeling.

And you started to move, still worked up, and a little sore, but were you really to blame? His cock was massive, stretching and filling places where you didn’t know anyone could reach, and once you started easing yourself up, right to the tip, you sank back down again, a little harsher than the first, whining into his callused skin whilst your eyes rolled back.

With each slow downward thrust of your hips, you could feel the course, dark thatch of hair that trailed from his stomach all the way down to the base of his cock. It was tickling against your clit, much akin to the hair that littered the thickness of those strong thighs of his, rubbing against your ass so deliciously. And his balls, shit— so big, so fucking heavy, full of his cum, the Harrington prodigy stored up inside of them and you throbbed and twitched at the thought of carrying his babies.

Fuck, you were totally down bad.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, honey?” It was almost as if he knew, a smirk heavy and crooked on his lips, his flashy Rolex glistening upon his wrist in the dim light of the lamp while he guided you up and down, up and down, nice and steady, but so, so deep.

You shied away, gaze flitting to the ceiling, and you would’ve stayed like that, waiting for him to drop it, until his palm— once again— came down on your ass in a smack, much heavier than before, much more painful than before, but the sting of it bloomed in your core and had more blood rushing to your clit.

“Come on— when I ask you somethin’ I expect an answer.” He was stern and sharp, though the smirk never left, plucking at the corner of his mouth and mocking you so delectably.

“M’sorry, daddy—” you crooned, hands sliding from his shoulders to the thick muscle of his biceps, the designer fabric of his shirt smooth under your palms. “Was thinking about your cum—”

Your whine was breathy, but you made sure to quiet down, his hips now moving in time with yours, knowing you could take him fully now, though just barely.

“Yeah, you thinkin’ about getting filled? Having all of this cum inside your pretty tummy, huh?” You were glad he had said it for you, far too embarrassed, and way too fucked out to string that sentence together, and the words, when they came from his mouth, sounded much better, you thought. “Want my babies, don’t you, hon?”

You were babbling nonsensical nothings, a sweet concoction of ‘oh yes daddydaddy, please’ fluttering from your puffy lips— nodding at him and clutching at him, his arms, his chest, anywhere you could find, until you settled on his hands, resting your own over his, while they pressed into your hips, guiding you faster now.

It had taken you a little while, but once you were comfortable, you had started to bounce like a little bunny in season, fucking down onto his thick cock, feeling the cut tip of his nudge at your g-spot, the ridges and veins that ran along the shaft so present and eager against your walls— you felt everything, so full, so sated, actually, scratch that, you weren’t sated, not until his cum was deep inside you, not a drop wasted.

“Who would’a thought you’d be bouncin’ on my cock tonight, sweetheart- shit—” sweat was shimmering on his skin, his stomach muscles clenching, not wanting to cum too soon. “So glad it’s you, sweet girl— my girl.”

You nodded, breathless.

“M’your girl, daddy. All f’you.”

Steve was close, closer once you uttered those words, sucking breaths in and bringing you closer, forehead pressed against yours, the sound of the squelchy slapslapslap filling the stuffy room.

“That’s right, that’s right— Christ, m’so close, daddy’s so fuckin’ close.”

And you were too, embarrassingly so, and you made it apparent with your whines, pressing your kisses into his skin, the pace between you growing sloppy, though somehow harder.

“Am too,” you babbled, “can we cum together?”

So sweet, so fucking sweet you were, eyes all big and wet and glistening so prettily, and he thought he would bust at merely gazing at you, but he nodded, his own irises moulding into hearts, quite similar to yours, beating out of his skull like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

“Yeah, honey,” he said, “yeah, we can cum together, such a good girl.”

The rope was growing taut, deep in your belly, just begging to snap any time soon, all you were waiting for was one word, one single word to have you unraveling above him—

“Cum,” that was it. “Cum f’me— shit, so good—”

Stars and sparkles all flurried your vision, clouding around Steve and highlighting the way he looked when he came, mouth agape, wanting so badly to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, not when you looked the way you did.

You were a mess, convulsing against his chest, creaming his cock, clenching and twitching around him while you milked him of his sticky cum.

Steve’s lips were on yours in an instant, tongue and lips, sloppy and wet, spit trickling down your chins at the lazy kiss, but too fucked out to care.

And for a while you stayed there, on his lap, slowly kissing while he cradled your head and muttered pretty praises into your ear, though you couldn’t shake a certain thought that swam through the haze that was your brain.

What the fuck happens now?

✰

tagging <3—

@ghostlyfleur @hornyhornyhimbos @crowssixof @lavendermunson @esquivelbianca @ratzztar @justpeachy46 @jackchampionsbbg @hazzaismyreligion @harrington-lover @spikedhe4rt @gabessock

(some blogs i wasn’t able to tag, sorry about that <33)

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #older!steve harrington x reader #dilf!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington daddy kink #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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rowanswriting · 4 months

Text

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞

(steve x fem!reader smut)

written for @imyourdaninow I love you so much Dani! 🖤

wordcount- 970

warnings (do not read unless you’re eighteen or over! mutual masturbation, phone sex, name calling. reader is driving) if I’ve missed something please reach out to me! hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome and appreciated! love you guys!

“Baby, did you hear what I said?” You snap back to reality at the sound of Steve’s voice coming through your car’s speakers. You’d zoned out for a moment around the time when Steve couldn’t shut up absolut wanting to get his mouth on you. “This isn’t fair, you know I’m driving home baby.” You whine out, pouting even though he couldn’t see you do it. The older man laughed on the other end, you could picture his smile in your head, he was far too cocky.

“Awww but isn’t that a part of the fun honey? Don’t you like being all wet for me? Don’t you like being my pathetic slut?” You bite back a moan that threatens to slip out at his words, squeezing your legs together as you try to keep your car on the road and not run off into a ditch because your boyfriend is a menace. “I know you took your bullet with you, you always do, why don’t you use it while you drive baby?” You roll your eyes, really you wanted to slap him silly for this, you sigh and reach over into your bag, pulling your mini vibe out, Steve knew you far too well.

“You’re holding it aren’t you?” You roll your eyes harder, pushing your hips up to pull your pants down to your knees, slowing down a little. You hold the button down, turning it on before pressing it against yourself, letting a strangled moan out, hearing Steve’s breathing pick up on the other side of the phone call. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this baby, you’re so fucking dirty. Can’t even wait to get home to get off for me can you?” You shake your head slightly, gripping the steering wheel in your other hand that isn’t busy pleasuring yourself.

“N-no, can’t help it baby, you turn me on so much. I wish you were here, wanna pull over and ride you in my backseat.” Steve moans loudly, the slick sound of him rubbing his cock rings throughout the small space of your car. “Fuck, listen to you, wouldn’t even care if someone saw us either would you? All you’d care about is how deep inside you I could go, I think you’d love it if people driving by looked over and saw you bouncing yourself down around me, you want everyone to know who owns you.”

The aching in your body intensifies as you stop at a red light, his words shooting straight down to where you need them the most, you’re so wet it covers your thighs, leaking down onto your seat, you’d have to clean that up soon but for now you were enjoying the sensation of your boyfriends dirty words, not even caring if someone looked over and saw what you were doing. It would only make you cum harder if they did. “Please, I c-can’t last much longer Steve, need you please.” You press the button again, the vibrations kicking up some as you try to stop your hips from moving too much.

“Cumming already? What a desperate thing you are, do you think you deserve to cum? I think you’re being a very bad girl right now, getting off in the car isn’t what good girls do, baby.” You grit your teeth, what a fucker. “I-I’m sorry! Please I can’t anymore.” You bite your lip hard, feeling your orgasm approaching faster and faster, your legs shaking as you check your mirror, looking around to make sure you weren’t keeping someone from being able to pass you. Steve says nothing, his breathing ragged as you hear his fist working himself faster and faster, the combination of trying to focus and feeling lust drunk makes your mind spin. You feel dizzy, or like a feral animal, he was driving you insane.

“Just think baby, if you cum really good for me, I’ll give you whatever you want when you get home. I’ll drop to my knees at the fucking door and eat you out like you deserve, I’ll fucking worship you, now, cum for me, show me how desperate you are, let me hear you.” He says. The fire burning within your veins finally becomes too much, you pull over quickly slamming on the breaks and quickly putting your car in park, a few more circles over your clit and the sound of Steve’s praises is all it takes.

You should be in porn, is the only thing you can think of as you cum, the breathy sounds coming out of you were enough to make you cum even harder than you already were. Steve didn’t last much longer on the other end, grunting out some things you couldn’t understand along with breathy little ‘fucks.’ You quickly turn your toy off, your hands trembling as you throw it down onto the seat next to you. You slump down, gripping onto the wheel as your entire body trembles. Your seat completely soaked under your ass creating an uncomfortable feeling as you lift up your hips again, pulling your ruined underwear and pants back up your legs.

Steve laughs before speaking again, his voice sounding hoarse from how loud he was being just moments ago. “Holy shit baby, that was the hottest shit you’ve ever done.” He praises, causing your face to flush as you shush him. You two quickly fall back into a regular conversation as you turn your blinker on, putting your car into drive and pulling back onto the highway slowly. You hoped Steve would make good on his promise when you got home, you cranked up the air conditioner and shook your head giggling at some joke he was currently making, pressing down on the gas with the thought of him waiting for you at the door, on his knees.

taglist 🏷️

@bunnyhargrove @sweetdazequeen @steves-babysitter @reidsbtch

#steve harrington smut #steve smut #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n smut

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Hi! For smut requests, what about the reader wearing something not usually considered sexy (like granny panties or sweatpants) and Eddie or Steve going feral over them.

Love you btw 💖

LOVE you ♡ fem!reader cw smut MDNI

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you ask worriedly.

"You realise you're half naked, right? In my bedroom?" Steve asks.

You look down at your t-shirt and panties that cover literally everything that could hope to be covered. "These are my most tame pair of underwear. Could you not be a guy for a second?"

You're kidding, of course. You'd hoped for some fun tonight, you just hadn't expected his attention like this. Maybe after you'd gotten undressed.

Steve's hand twitches where it lies on his thigh. You watch it move, thick fingers creeping inward.

"They're still- I mean, I can still see everything." He laughs. There's an amorous catch to it.

You raise your eyebrows with a soft smile and shift so one thigh is in front of the other. "Stevie, are you messing with me?" you ask demurely.

Steve holds your gaze and slowly, so slowly, brings a hand to the growing bulge in his jeans and readjusts his cock. You suck in a startled breath.

"C'mon," he says, eyes lowering with pleasure as he palms his length, "Can you blame me? Can you-" He shudders and tugs with a little more fervor. "Sweetheart, would you come over here?"

The shush of his palm over denim plays loud, your footsteps louder. Steve holds a hand up before you can reach him. His belt buckle clinks as he pulls it open.

"What? Am I just s'posed to stand here?" you ask shyly. Is that really enough? You in your cotton panties, a foot away?

"You could take off your shirt?" he suggests.

He's definitely messing with you. You follow his hand as it dissappears under the waistband of his boxers and decide to call his bluff, tucking your elbow into the lip of your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You make sure to arch your back as you do, tummy jutting forward and tits bouncing gently as you strip.

The little movement is enough to make Steve moan. A familiar ache grows between your thighs.

"Shit," he says, breaking easy, "shit, fine. Please, come and sit on my lap." You're unimpressed. "Come on, come and sit on my lap."

Unfortunately, you break easy too. He holds out his free hand and you take it, easing yourself over one of his thighs as he pulls you in, mindful of his second, stuttering hand tucked away in his boxers. "There you go," he murmurs as you settle.

Your cunt presses hot to denim. He must feel it.

You hold your hands to your neck, unsure for a moment on what to do next. Sex isn't always as cut and clean as you want it to be and you worry if you get greedy quick you won't be able to draw it out as long as you want to tonight. Steve seems to be on the same page, his fingers massaging slowly up the inside of your thigh.

"Can I touch you?" he asks.

"Yeah," you say. You swallow roughly. "Please."

He skips the bump of your cunt completely to toy with the ribbon on your panties, a dainty white bow. His knuckles brush the trembling skin under your belly button and you both react.

"Tickles?" he asks at your giggling.

"Uh-huh."

Steve slides the tip of his finger under the waistband and pulls. It snaps back against your skin and makes you jump. He does it again, running his finger back and forth until your squirming in his lap, anticipation a heavy heat in your core.

He lifts his gaze to yours, hand pulled from the confines of his boxers and reaching for your hip. Fat melds under his grip as he pulls you forward, cunt dragging up his thigh. You all but sink into him, nose bridge pressing to his as you dip your chin for a kiss.

You can't help yourself. He kisses you and all you can do is grind against him, arms wrapping tight around his neck as time stretches and want burns. He laughs into your kisses and slouches down, brings you with him, hands roving over your skin salacious and greedy.

Steve pulls away, leaving you damp and wanting as he says, "I can feel you."

"Can feel you too," you say quietly.

"Think you're making a mess on me, baby. Making a mess of your nice panties."

You huff an embarrassed laugh. "Shush," you plead.

"I won't shush." He grabs a handful of your ass and pulls, spreading your cunt enough to make you sigh aloud. "You think 'cos they're covering you up I don't know what's underneath? Think I don't know you back to front by now?"

"I know, just... they're nothing fancy-"

"Fuck, who needs fancy?"

"You really don't mind them?" you ask, heart beating fast as a mouse's.

"I'd definitely say I like them, baby. Want me to show you how much?"

You screw your fingers in the neckline of his t-shirt. "Please, Stevie. I... I want you. Need you to touch me."

His cock jumps against your midriff. He threads a hand behind your ear and pulls it towards his lips. "I know. Think I don't know how wet my baby's cunt gets from simple kisses?" His nose whispers down the shell of your ear. "You think panties with a little extra fabric'll stop me fucking you dumb? You know better than that," he utters.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things smut

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explorevenus · 1 year

Text

toy cars & princess tea parties ♡ steddie x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni !!! srsly i will scream

word count - 4.8k

description - a few years after the (non-canon) events of season four, steddie and reader are grappling with the implications of adulthood-- eddie comes home from work with an interesting idea to take their relationship to the next milestone...

tags/warnings - polyamory, pet names (baby, princess, angel, doll, etc.), praise, threesome, breeding, fem!reader, eddie being mischievous bc he 100% planned this, steve playing right into eddie’s hand and going absolutely feral, p-in-v ofc ♡ also one use of (Y/N) which i didn’t know was a problem for some people but apparently it is so there’s ur warning

a/n - ok i’m sorry but ever since my first time witnessing the six lil nuggets speech i cannot get over the CANONIZED FACT that steve harrington is INTO BREEDING. it’s canon to me and u can ARGUE WITH THE WALL. that being said i felt it was my civic duty to rope eddie into it bc i physically cannot help myself and here we are ♡ i hope u enjoy, i will repent later ♡

p.s. i used the stand-in name ‘jennifer’ for them to refer to a random npc classmate of theirs bc apparently that was an incredibly popular name in the 80′s so if ur name is actually jennifer i am sorry in advance but the name is only mentioned like two or three times at the beginning so

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ! ♡

-venus ♡

It started out as a quiet, normal evening.

You were curled up on the couch with Steve, drifting in and out of naps as he played with your hair and absently watched whatever was on the TV. You were both off work today, and unsurprisingly, it was rather quiet without Eddie around. He'd been working late shifts at the record store lately-- something about a coworker needing a schedule change to coincide with her college classes.

So, there the two of you sat, your hair messy with sleep as you slumped into Steve's chest, his strong arm closed tight around your shoulder, thumb caressing your exposed arm where your blanket had slipped down. It was cozy, it was lazy, it was sweet.

A stark contrast to what you didn't know you were in for that night.

Your sleepy eyes blinked open at the sound of the front door to your shared apartment opening, and you and Steve both turned your heads to see Eddie walk in. Eddie tossed his keys on the counter and stretched his arms up with a dramatic, satisfied groan before kicking his boots off, and his dark chocolate eyes soon trailed across the room to you and Steve.

His lips were quick to upturn into a smile. "What a sight to come home to. Aren't you two just adorable?"

"Says you," You mumbled tiredly, opening up your arms so as to coax him to join you on the couch. "How was work?"

Eddie's posture softened and he wasted little time giving into your command, plopping down on the couch beside you and joining Steve in playing with your hair. "It was fine. Work's work, y'know."

You hummed in acknowledgement, just about to drift back to sleep at the added warmth of his body before he spoke up again.

"Do you guys remember Jennifer from high school?" Eddie asked.

Steve pondered for a moment. "Jennifer... which Jennifer?"

"Chess club Jennifer," Eddie confirmed. "She came into the record store with her boyfriend today, that guy Todd? Well, I guess he's her husband now. Anyway, she was like, super pregnant. Isn't that weird to think about? People we went to high school with are having kids now."

It certainly was weird to think about. High school felt like it was a lifetime ago just about as much as it felt like yesterday, and classmates getting married and starting families were just another harsh reminder that you were all well and truly adults now.

"Yeah... wow. That's a trip," You mumbled, reaching up to rub the sleep out of your eyes. "Sometimes I forget we're not 16 anymore."

"Yeah, seriously," Steve hummed in agreement, and you could have sworn you noticed his muscles tense beneath you.

"Well, good for them," You added, hoping to cut through some of that tension. "They've been dating since like, freshman year. I guess it was only a matter of time."

Eddie let out a little breath through his nose, grinning as he stared forward at the TV, but it was evident he wasn't really watching.

You raised an eyebrow and nudged him. "What?"

Eddie shrugged, drumming his fingers on your hip and stealing glances between you and Steve. "Only a matter of time, huh?" He asked. "Good to know."

Eyes widening, you quickly straightened your posture and stared at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" You pressed further. Steve was watching him too, reaching for the remote and muting the TV without even looking. The silence was deafening.

Eddie shrugged again, face smug with amusement. "I don't know, it's just... seeing them all happy together and starting a family, it just kinda got me thinking, y'know? That could be us someday."

Steve's hand froze on your arm, and now you could hardly read his expression. You just stared between them with eyes so wide you were sure they could see right through them and into the cogs turning in your head.

"Just think about it for a sec, okay? Indulge me for a minute," Eddie continued. "Little Munsons and Harringtons running around, Saturday morning cartoons, bathing fat little babies in the sink... wonder whose seed'll take first," He chuckled to himself.

But that comment alone got to you. Your face burned, and now it was you pretending to watch the TV, even with the sound off. Heat pooled in your core with an embarrassing quickness, and it felt nearly impossible to fight off the image of trying, Steve and Eddie fucking you into a sobbing mess and filling you up to the brim, competing to see who would knock you up first. You swallowed dryly.

"I-I need some water," You stammered, peeling yourself out of their arms and abandoning your blanket as you disappeared into the kitchen.

You had never really talked about having kids before. Steve had always shown an interest in starting a family, but you weren't really sure where you stood, and Eddie didn't seem like the type. You always figured it would be a conversation for another day, a day in the distant future when you were all finally adults working big jobs, picket fence and whatnot.

Yet here you were.

"You alright there, baby?" Steve's voice broke you out of your deep thought and you realized your glass was full beneath the tap, cool water spilling out over your fingers shortly after he'd spoken.

You flinched and turned off the water, setting your glass down and reaching for a rag to dry your hands. You couldn't quite bring yourself to look at him as you replied, "I'm fine, just... thinking."

"Thinkin' pretty hard, it looks like," Eddie teased, coming up behind you with a squeeze to your hips and a sweet kiss to the crown of your head. "Didn't mean to freak you out, doll."

"I'm not freaked out! I promise," You were quick to clarify, taking a big sip of your water with a shaking hand. "Just... caught off guard, I guess. I've never really thought about having kids before."

Eddie let out a little pff. "Oh, come on, I don't believe that. You've never thought about it before? Not even one time?"

You shook your head.

He turned you around in his arms, taking the glass from your hand and returning it to the counter, ensuring he had your full attention. Steve was leaned on the door frame listening, observing. Watching your reddened face.

"You're blushing," Eddie chuckled quietly, leaning down to brush his lips over your forehead before turning over his shoulder to look at Steve. "Help me out here, Harrington?"

But Steve looked just about as flustered as you did. "It would be nice," He admitted. "I've thought about it. A lot. You would make a beautiful mother, (Y/N)."

"See?" Eddie smirked. "Harrington agrees with me."

"Don't you guys think we should wait? I mean, the apartment works just fine for the three of us, but it's a little small to raise kids in, and we're still so young," You said, though you weren't fully sure whether you were trying to convince them or yourself. "It's just a really big decision. I don't think we should rush into it."

"We can get a house!" Eddie grinned, brushing your hair away from your face. "I'll work overtime at the record store, book extra gigs at The Hideout. Whatever I need to do to make that happen. We'll find somewhere real nice, fenced yard and all that. Maybe we can even talk Steve into building a treehouse."

"I don't know, Eds..." You sighed.

You fully expected Steve to back you up on the absurdity of that suggestion, but he didn't. "That's not such a bad idea. I've been saving up from my paychecks since we graduated. It was meant to be a safeguard if Vecna came back and we all needed to hit the road, but it's been a few years now. Maybe we should just do it. Real estate's pretty cheap around here, given everything that's happened."

Perhaps they had a point, although selfishly, you sort of wanted them to keep trying to talk you into it.

"That's great, but have you guys really thought this through? Like really thought it through? Babies are a lot of work, and our relationship is hard enough to explain as it is, people are going to have so many questions--"

"Then let ‘em ask," Eddie interrupted you, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, though he quickly became distracted by your throat, tipping your chin up with his pointer finger. "I don't give a fuck. It doesn't change anything. They'll just be jealous that they don't have an extra parent for their kids like we do, right Stevie?" He spoke between increasingly sloppy kisses to your neck, teeth nipping at your warming skin.

"Exactly," Steve smiled softly, crossing his legs where he stood, and you almost could have sworn you saw the front of his sweatpants tightening. "We're already better off than most couples, if my math is right."

You were quickly melting under Eddie's attention, and Steve's lustful gaze. While you might have initially hoped that excusing yourself for a drink of water would help you cool off, it was entirely obvious now that such an attempt was in vain-- you couldn't fight with yourself anymore. They'd successfully convinced you.

Swallowing thickly, you tangled your fingers into Eddie's messy curls and could hardly bring yourself to look at either of them as you spoke in a near-whisper, "O-Okay, let's do it..."

Eddie froze, pulling away from your neck with a parting nip of the flesh so that he could stare at you with stars in his eyes. "What did you just say?" He asked.

Shyly, you glanced between them, a giddy smile tugging at your burning cheeks. They both looked truly in disbelief. "I said let's do it. Let's try for a baby."

Eddie hardly had a chance to react before Steve crossed the small kitchen and took your face in his hands, pupils blown wide as his mouth collided with yours. You stumbled back into the countertop at the force of him, gripping the edge with one hand and fisting his old Hawkins High gym shirt with the other. Eddie could do little but step back and observe, and unbeknownst to you and Steve, since you were preoccupied, Eddie had quite the satisfied smirk resting on his face. Truthfully, he knew this was what Steve wanted and that it likely wouldn't be much of a challenge to get you both going, the devil that he is. There was nowhere better to start than to just witness the fruit of his efforts.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," Steve spoke against your lips, letting one hand drop down to slide up beneath your shirt-- a shirt you'd stolen from Eddie's side of the closet-- and you shivered at the feeling of his warm skin on yours. "No idea how long I've wanted to hear you say it, princess..."

"S-Steve--" You gasped, but he wasn't finished yet.

"Say it again," He grunted, hips rutting into yours, and... yeah, his grey sweatpants were definitely getting tight. "Say you're gonna make me a fuckin' daddy, sweetheart."

Eddie watched with anticipation, palming impatiently at the front of his jeans. He knew Steve wanted this, but he didn't know he wanted it this badly.

Breaths quickening, you briefly took Steve's bottom lip between your teeth just to drive him that much crazier before giving in to his request, voice soft and sweet. "I'm gonna make you a fucking daddy, Steve..."

Steve let go of your face to hike one of your legs up over his hip, driving his clothed cock into the seat of your thin pajama shorts. You let out a choked whine, feeling a rush of wetness pooling in your panties, head swimming with need.

"Forgetting someone, angel?" Eddie interjected smugly, eyebrow raised, working himself stiff over his jeans.

Panting against Steve's hot, wet kisses, you barely managed to get the words out. "G-Gonna make you a daddy, Eds... gonna give you a baby..."

Steve groaned against you, lips sloppily trailing down your chin as he lifted you up in one quick motion, peeking his eyes open just enough to orient himself so that he could carry you towards the bedroom. You grabbed at Eddie's free hand as you passed, dragging him along with you, although he hardly needed any convincing-- he'd been waiting for this all day, resisting the urge to feign a sudden onset illness just to skip out of work and fuck you dumb, even though it appeared Steve was determined to beat him to it.

Steve shoved the bedroom door open with a heavy hand and wasted no time pinning you to the bed, tugging at your shirt like he'd die if it didn't come off, and in your eagerness to be touched by them you were quick to lift it over your head for him, exposing your soft chest to the cool air of the room. Steve's teeth dragged over your collarbones and down to the swell of your breast, sucking a harsh mark there before he took your nipple into his mouth and swirled over it with his slick tongue.

"F-Fuck," You sighed, taking a fistful of his thick hair.

Eddie shed himself of his t-shirt and jeans before joining the two of you on the bed, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand and stroking his hardened cock with the other. "You're gonna look so pretty with a baby in you, dollface," He mused, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. "Everyone's gonna know you're fuckin' ours, huh? Ours forever."

You nodded hazily, reaching out to grab at his thigh, your nails pressing little crescent moon shapes into his alabaster skin. He sucked in a sharp breath, pace of his hand faltering. Eddie didn't want to cum just yet, for obvious reasons, but it was hard to stop himself from jerking off as he watched you writhe under Steve's touch. He found himself having to exercise some serious self control.

Pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, Steve slid his hand beneath the waistband of your shorts and ran two fingers over your drenched panties. "So good and wet for me already," He praised, watching with lust thick in his eyes as you inadvertently bucked into his hand. "You just can't wait, can you? Want me to fuck a baby into you so bad..."

"Y-Yes, Steve, please," You whimpered, shaking hands carding through his hair. "W-Want it so bad..."

"Easy, Harrington," Eddie chuckled breathlessly. "It was my idea. I'm goin' first."

Steve shot him a look that could truly kill, dragging his fingertips over your clothed clit just to make you squirm. "What are we, twelve?" He scoffed.

"Whatever. Don't make me push you off the bed, Stevie. Move," Eddie grunted, expecting Steve to put up more of a fight, but he didn't. He simply rolled his eyes and withdrew his hand from your shorts, clambering off of you to busy himself undressing for now.

Eddie crawled atop your trembling body, kissing down your chest as he dragged your panties and shorts down with a hooked finger. You hastily kicked them off and let them drop off the edge of the bed, leaving you completely bare for them. Eddie took a moment to soak in the sight of you with adoring, hungry eyes, dipping a calloused finger into your folds to ensure you were as wet as Steve said-- you definitely were, in fact, even more so than he'd been led to believe.

With a proud smirk and shaking hands he took hold of your hip, dragging the reddened, weeping head of his cock up the length of your pussy to slick himself with your arousal. You flinched at the stimulation, bucking toward him with a soft mewl of his name, a coded plea for him to get on with it, and he chuckled.

"I've got you, baby," He soothed, gifting you a sweet kiss. "Gonna fuck you real good, promise."

Your jaw dropped in bliss as the head of his cock breached your entrance, and without even thinking about it you hooked a leg around him and drew him deeper into you. He was trying to be gentle, considering they hadn't prepared you quite as well as they usually would, but he was impatient and clearly, so were you. His hips jerked into yours as he lost himself to the feeling of your plush, soaked walls hugging him tightly, and as he buried himself in to the hilt he let out a low growl that was almost animalistic.

Eyelashes fluttering, you whimpered in pleasure at the feeling, holding his soft biceps to ground yourself. "Fuck, Eddie..." You sighed, rocking into him.

"Jesus, baby, you gotta be patient, or I'm gonna bust and then neither of us will get to enjoy this," He chuckled breathlessly, fingertips pressing into your hips as he slowly began to move. "Fuck, you feel like a dream..."

Your head fell back into the pillows as the pace of his thrusts picked up and steadied-- he'd quickly found his rhythm, watching your tits move with every snap of his hips against yours, and he could hardly believe his luck that he'd found two people as perfect as you and Stevie, let alone that you'd agreed to start a family with him. Just the thought of it drove him crazy, and he could barely look at you anymore or he would finish way too soon. Screwing his eyes shut, Eddie let his own head fall back similarly to yours as he submitted himself to the feeling, and the sinful sounds of your slick cunt taking all he would give you.

Steve, newly naked, sat beside you on the bed, taking your breasts into his big hands, thumbs skimming over your pebbled nipples as he watched Eddie fuck you. "Takin' him so well, sweetheart," He mused, resisting the urge to reach for your clit. "You're such a good fuckin' girl, aren't you?"

"S-Stevie," You whined, speech slurring with pleasure as you reached weakly for his hand. "Feels so... so good..."

He hummed, taking a hold of your hand, lips brushing over your knuckles. "I'll bet it does, princess. Gonna let Eds make you a mama, huh?"

"Mhm," You nodded, squeezing his hand. "A-And you too..."

Steve chuckled softly, kissing your knuckles again, more affirmatively this time. "That's right. That's my good girl."

With the combination of their filthy words and the near bruising feeling of Eddie's engorged cock prodding at your cervix, you were ashamed to admit that you were already nearing the finish line too. You desperately clenched around Eddie in an attempt to hold on, but it would seem as though the action brought him that much closer to his own end.

His rings were cold on your hot skin as one hand moved from your hip to the lower part of your stomach, applying just enough pressure to intensify the feeling of his swollen cock inside you. Your mouth fell open in a near silent cry, and Eddie couldn't help a breathless little laugh at your reaction. He just couldn't believe how adorable you were, how perfect you looked even while he was fucking you like a touch starved teenager.

"Right here," Eddie groaned, taking his lip between his teeth with a wild grin. "That's where our perfect little baby is gonna grow, right between these gorgeous fuckin' hips of yours, princess..." His inked skin glowed with sweat in the low bedroom light, and your cheeks burned.

It was in that moment that you started to realize that Eddie really must have been thinking about this for a long time-- running into a classmate of yours at work was just a convenient excuse to bring it up. Regardless, you couldn't help but be glad that he did.

"S-So close, Eds, m'close... please," You whimpered, feeling that knot begin to tighten deep within you, but in his concentration it would seem Eddie had barely registered your plea.

No matter, Steve was certainly paying close attention. He gently brushed your hair away from your face so that he could admire you properly before allowing his hand to travel down the length of your stomach, dipping in the space between you and Eddie so that he could toy with your clit. Mewling in pleasure, you gripping Steve's wrist with a shaking, white knuckled hand as your high crested over you-- you felt your walls pulsing around Eddie's thick cock as your cum seeped out around him.

It would seem that alone was enough to push Eddie finally over the edge. His fingertips bore deeply into your skin, pace of his thrusts faltering as he buried himself as deeply inside you as he could manage and shortly thereafter, you were graced with warmth and butterflies as his hot seed flooded your cunt. The deep, broken moan that fell from his lips was unlike anything you'd ever heard from him before, primal and satisfied like he'd never had an orgasm quite like this. With stilted movements he continued to fuck his seed into you for just a moment until he was absolutely positive you'd drained him dry, and only then was he able to will himself to pull out.

"Jesus, sweetheart, you drive me crazy," He huffed, catching his breath as he reached forward with his thumb and caught a stray globe of pearly white that was threatening to slip out of you, pushing it gently back into your sensitive pussy. "Can't waste a single fuckin' drop, now can we? Not 'til you're good 'n knocked up, huh?"

"E-Eds," You whimpered, jolting beneath his touch and finding yourself unable to do much more than make grabby hands at him, craving his affection.

Flopping to the bed on the other side of you, his lips brushed over your sweaty temple as he soothed, "M'right here, princess, m'not goin' anywhere."

Steve was kind enough to allow you a moment to come back to Earth before reminding you of his presence with a soft touch to your thigh. "Are you ready to go again, sweetheart?" He asked, kind words juxtaposed by the absolute carnal hunger in his eyes, pupils blown wide as he soaked in the pretty sight of Eddie's seed leaking from your cunt.

Just the sight of him hovering over you, careful hands spreading you open by your shaking thighs was more than enough to reignite the flame in your core, bringing a renewed wave of need. You nodded lazily, reaching for his hand.

Steve laced his fingers in yours. "Use your words, princess."

"I-I'm ready, Stevie," You sighed with a sweet smile, your hips working off of a mind of their own as you bucked gently toward him. "Want your cum... n-need it so bad..."

You almost could have sworn you saw his eyes roll back into his head in pure bliss at the sound of those words leaving your lips. In no need of any further convincing, Steve softly kneaded your quivering thigh in his large hand before taking his woefully hard cock in the other, lining himself up with your entrance in a way which took special care to push any stray seed of Eddie's back into you. Your head fell back with a quiet whine, already sensitive from having came already, but equally so your mouth was watering and you could hardly think coherently through the thick fog of need that clouded your fucked out brain.

Steve drove into you as carefully as he could manage in his eagerness, cognizant of your sensitivity but all too anxious to give it all to you. As he bottomed out inside of your slick cunt his eyes screwed shut, almost overwhelmed by the feeling of your cum-soaked walls pulling him in.

He groaned deeply, hips snapping impatiently forward. "S-Six..." He muttered, perhaps to himself, but the utterance did not go unnoticed by you or Eddie.

"Huh?" You mewled, squeezing his hand as you rocked on the bed. "Stevie?"

"Six," He said more clearly now. "I've always wanted six... six cute little terrors, and you're gonna be their mama, huh?"

"Six?" You gasped, but were quickly subdued by the pleasure of his thick cock rutting deeply inside of you, threatening closer to your cervix.

Eddie chuckled. "We could handle it. I mean, we've had plenty of practice."

Now it was you squeezing your eyes shut, head lazily shaking back and forth on the mattress. "Uh-uh," You moaned. "T-That's... s'too many..."

"Jus' think about it," Steve grinned. "Three boys, three girls. Toy cars and princess tea parties, road trips in Eddie's van..."

"S'too much," You slurred, though at this point neither Steve nor Eddie could tell if you were still referring to the six kids thing or if you were just getting overstimulated. They silently figured both were possibly true.

Eddie smoothed your hair away from your forehead. "Doin' so well for us, princess. Just a little longer, m'kay? Stevie's gonna take good care of you."

Tears pricked at your eyes as your second high of the night continued approaching all too quickly. Every last movement Steve made pushed you closer and closer to the edge, beckoning you to finish once more, and it felt so horrifically good that it almost hurt. You could hardly think straight, unintelligible moans tumbling from your lips as you squeezed Steve's hand like he'd disappear if you let go.

"Don't fight it," Steve said breathlessly, squeezing your hand in return as an acknowledgement of your inability to speak up. "Just cum for me, honey, just let go and cum for me..."

His words alone sent shivers down the length of you that glittered and bloomed at the base of your spine and brought your legs together, inadvertently pulling him deeper into you as you cried out and gushed over his hard cock. Your whole body shaking, you hardly even noticed that your free hand was reaching for Eddie's.

"Aww... you're okay, you're alright," Eddie cooed, taking your hand while Steve continued to rut into you, though it was evident he wasn't far from his end, either. "You still with us, pumpkin?" Eddie checked in.

It took you a second to fully process what he'd asked of you, but once you did, you nodded hazily.

"That's my girl, all fucked out and dumb," He praised. "Aren't you just the cutest, hm?"

Eddie brought your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles, and when you pulled his hand towards yourself he expected you would return the affection-- instead, you took his thick middle and ring fingers into your mouth as if to pacify yourself.

He nearly came again at that motion alone.

Steve, who watched this exchange occur with lust-blown eyes, drove into your cunt hard, white knuckling your hips as his jaw dropped in a jagged moan and he emptied his seed as deeply inside you as he could physically manage. For a moment he couldn't bring himself to pull out, rocking into you just a few more gentle times as if to fuck it further in. You were a quivering, whining mess at the hand of his ministrations.

Once he had properly descended back to Earth from his high, Steve leaned down to kiss the blushing bridge of your nose, and then Eddie's ringed knuckles that rested just before your lips. You blinked absently, tears bubbling in your lashes, but even so you couldn't help but smile at how sweet they could be in the aftermath of acts that would reasonably deny you entry into heaven.

"You're so good for us, sweetheart," Steve mused, steadying you by your waist as he unsheathed himself from you, slowly so as not to waste any of their seed. "I can't wait for us to have our own family."

You sucked softly at Eddie's fingers, gazing up at Steve with hazy doe eyes that wordlessly pleaded for him to join you on the bed. Typically he would make you say what you wanted out loud, but neither of them felt the need to bother tonight. After all, you were gifting them something they couldn't get from anyone else, something they only wanted from you.

Catching his breath, Steve brushed his hair away from his face and laid on the other side of you, drawing your shaking body into his warm chest. Eddie scratched your back lovingly as Steve played with your soft hair.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed while you all regained proper consciousness, but that silence was broken by Eddie.

"I hope it’s a boy.”

"A boy?" You gasped, turning over your shoulder to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Like there aren't enough of you already?"

#venustext #sintext #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #steddie smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson smut

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trashmouth-richie · 2 years

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♡ ziggy, 31, she/her, your cool older sister, writer, ♉︎ , mashed potato enthusiast, i like to laugh..a lot. dm or slide into my ask box I love chatting and simping over the hot boys (eddie, steve, argyle— occasionally jonathan and billy, + always hopper) of Hawkins

♡ this is an 18+ only blog, minors will be banished by the power of 3

♡ latest works blurbs: love’s never meant much to me

cold shower 18+

the raven told me of you 18+

♡ latest works series: open arms 18+

♡ popular works (series): honey i’m home (roommate!eddie) 18+

♡ requests: open | asks: open

♡ tag list: comment on this post to be added

♡ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | ♡ ao3

♡ pls support writers with reblogs + comments

💤i do not give anyone permission to copy, steal or repost my works on any other platform. i do not give permission to put my work into AI systems of any kind. copyright @trashmouth-richie

LATEST WORK ·˚ ༘

OPEN ARMS: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life you’re living… you find it hard to trust him again.

*new* HIDE + SCREAM : Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

LILITH : a series of blurbs about crazy!reader x crazy!eddie.

LIE TO ME: lovesick! Eddie *new!*

SERIES ·˚ ༘

TWINFLAMES : (ongoing) Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader —the annngst, the smut, NO VECNA, it’s gonna be a ride (15/??) (on permanent hiatus)

HONEY, I’M HOME desperate for a roommate, you place an ad in the paper. Eddie x Fem!Reader (enemies to lovers, menace!Eddie )

DO YOU LIKE THE WAY THE WATER TASTES? a day at the pool with your best friend, his gf, and his best friend Eddie— who has a crush on you.

HEATED taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddie’s idea. the day trip there was Steve’s. But when Wayne’s borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boys’ tempers aren’t the only thing to rise.

ONE SHOTS ·˚ ༘

FORTY THREE BELOW *new* blizzard au, reader is fighting a cold

COBBLER *new* blizzard storm with a crabby eddie

TWELVE HOURS *new* smutty 12 hours of bf! eddie worshipping you until christmas

DIFFERENCES *new* a blurb about the way Steve & Eddie fuck you

IT’S 3 AM *new!* [early early morning smut with Eddie]

LEAVE ME IN THE DARK *new* [eddie angst: before & after s4]

CONFESSION *new!* [smut] eddie x fem!reader

LANDLORD! MEAN! OLDER!EDDIE [smut]

SOMEONE LIKE YOU [steddie angst]

LETTING SOMEONE GO *new!* [angst]

RUN

HELLFIRE THANKSGIVING [smut]

BAD DATE CHRONICLES

PREP SCHOOL [smut]

WANTING YOU

AT THIS MOMENT, YOU MEAN EVERYTHING steve x reader smut

more fics under the cut

MINI SERIES ·˚ ༘

WE’RE THE LAST IN LINE [on Hiatus]

MINI MINI SERIES ·˚ ༘

TEASING

CHOKE ME, BITE ME

QUEEN OF THE DAMNED eddie x fem!reader { corruption kink }

ANSWERED ASKS ·˚ ༘

VALENTINE’S [fluff]

LITTLE MUNSON [fluff]

UNO

ICE ICE BABY

WHEELS ON THE BUS

KITCHEN SEX steve x fem!reader

DESSERT

FERAL + BREAD

GLASSES + LIGHTS

BEST FRIENDS

BILLY X EDDIE X YOU

ROOF SEX : Eddie x Fem! Reader

LET’S NOT KEEP SCORE *new* coach! steve x fem reader

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #ziggys masterlist

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

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I'm on Fire

older!biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

90's au//Part 6

🚨18+ Only, MDNI, smut, dry humping, thigh riding, squirting (not reader), implied smut, mild violence, jealousy, alcohol consumption, reader feels betrayed (not by Eddie), smoking cigarettes, mention of tattoo placement on reader, biker gang, mention of poverty, loved one in hospital, fear of loss, mention of sex with people other than reader and Eddie Word count: 6.8k

In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush of Fight Night, Eddie disappears again to take care of a family emergency. The two of you share another intimate moment and have a nice night together just before everything starts to unravel. The connection you two share, and everything in your little world, is about to be tested.

Series Masterlist here

A/N: This is turning into the biker!Eddie Munson soap opera I didn't know I needed. I have lots of storyline ideas ahead for this, hopefully I can execute them as well as I want to. As always, thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥 It's difficult to catch errors when I edit myself, but I do my best. Spotify playlist: here

Eddie was holding your face between his hands, kissing you deep, his tongue flicking in every so often to make contact with yours. This is really happening, you tell yourself, sliding one hand up into his hair, the roots damp with sweat, jaw muscles stretching to take each other deeper. He pulled back a few times to plant kisses on your mouth, the tip of your nose, and then he pressed his lips to your forehead and hovered there while your hands slid up his slick chest, his body radiating heat. The DJ played something by Jane’s Addiction and the world seemed to continue on around you, and then your finger began to trace the intricate bat tattoo on his chest, the mouth of it was ancient, feral, and dripping blood.

He leaned back to make eye contact with you and he winked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Damn, you’re so beautiful,” and then he cleared his throat and dropped one hand from your face as Steve stepped up near him.

“Sorry to interrupt, man, but I need a minute,” Steve Harrington said, cocking his head to the side.

Eddie squeezed your hand and told you he’d be right back while he motioned for Steve to walk with him. “Follow me back to my place. I need to put a shirt on.” He turned around when they were a handful of steps away to look at you again, and of course you were still staring at him; he stifled a smile.

Even though the fights and the entertainment were over, the crowd hadn’t thinned out very much. The music had started back up and groups were headed back for more beer. You took the opportunity to go over to the fence and spit out some of the blood still in your mouth, and Katie came over to ask if you were okay, her hand rubbing your back.

“Let me see,” she said, referring to you your mouth injury. She winced when she noticed that the lower part of your jaw was swollen. “Not a dull moment in this friendship. Sip of beer?” She asked, holding her cup up.

The thought almost made you gag for some reason and you shook your head. “Where’s Robin and Jeff? Are they okay?”

Katie tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and fixed the neckline of your shirt. “Jeff is somewhere with that young biker stud, and Robin went to bring the jeep around. You have everything you came with? The clown car is leaving.”

You hesitated, because you didn’t want to leave, but you had to be at work early the next day, and you needed to get some ice on your face to keep it from getting worse. “Sure,” you looked across the parking lot. “Just let me find Eddie and say goodbye to him.”

By the time the two of you took a few seconds to look for Jeff and made it through the crowd, Eddie was no longer at the compound.

“Munson? He left,” one of the Hell’s Belles with short black hair told you, a cigarette bouncing between her lips.. “He took off a few seconds ago. Like a bat out of hell.”

To say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but there had to be good reason. Plus, you knew the guy was exhausted; he wouldn’t just take off on a joy ride for the hell of it.

Steve had no clue where Eddie went.

“But, you were the last one to talk to him, right?” Your tongue licked out to feel the rawness of your lower lip. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” Steve bleated, arms out in a shrug. His hair was usually slicked back and tight, but because of the brawl, it was adorably messy with a strand hanging down over his eyebrow, “Nothing that would make him bolt. I was just telling him which guys still owed money from the fights, but he didn’t really give a shit.”

You wondered if he lived the double life of a super secret agent: the 007 of bikers.

“He did get a phone call,” Steve offered. “But I didn’t hang around to hear who it was.”

Parked out at the curb, Robin honked her horn, and it looked like Jeff was already in the jeep with her.

Erika and her friends walked by, throwing you dirty looks as they went, but you really didn’t give a shit about them in that moment.

“Why is Robin in such a hurry all of a sudden?” Katie asked Steve, arms crossed over her stomach as the three of you shuffled to the gate at a trot.

“We hired a babysitter for tonight, a neighborhood girl, really nice, but Robin’s always annoyingly nervous to leave Ollie with new people.”

Robin honked again, even though she could see that you were all moving in that direction, but clearly not fast enough. You turned in a circle, taking one more look around for Eddie before you got in the jeep, but he had officially evaporated.

-------

By the next afternoon, you still hadn’t heard from Eddie, and so you had your other assistant watch the front of the gallery while you hid in the back room to call his place, only to find that there was no answer. The first unromantic gift you planned to get for him was an answering machine.

Robin, Katie, and Oliver showed up to the gallery event looking adorable, after you encouraged them with talk of fresh crab legs and expensive goat cheese from France you could barley pronounce. Steve was working at the tattoo shop, but Oliver looked extremely dapper in red trousers, a black, short sleeve button down shirt and a red bow tie. He was still getting used to you, so he was on the quiet side, but he showed an intense amount of interest as you explained the mediums that were used in some of the artwork.

“Ollie loves to paint and draw, don’t you Ollie?” Robin asked him, but when you made eye contact to hear his answer, he shyly tucked his chin. Toward the end of their visit, though, there was a tiny finger tap on the side of your leg, and you looked down to find two big brown eyes like saucers staring up at you from under long, dark lashes. The boy was irrefutably Steve’s clone.

He curled his hand a few times, motioning for you to bend down, closer to him. “That one is my favorite,” he told you, pointing to one of the really loud, colorful abstract pieces.

“That’s my favorite too,” you whispered, in all seriousness, which afforded you an impish smile and a few consecutive nods of the head before he traveled back to take Robin’s hand.

Katie held her wine glass to her lips to muffle her words as she leaned closer to you. “Judith is looking exceptionally MILF this evening, in a Morticia kind of way.” She was referring to the owner of the gallery, who only popped in once in a great while to boast her importance in the community. Just at that moment, Judith, with her black hair styled in a short, severe asymmetrical bob, made eye contact with you and offered one of those unreadable, passive-aggressive expressions that always made your mind scramble to figure out what you had done wrong. Nothing, you reminded yourself, you’d done nothing wrong. Except, maybe, steal a lover away from one of the wealthiest women in the state, who also just happened to be one of Judith’s country club pals. Had Charlene put the pieces together and realized who you were and where you worked? It wouldn’t be a herculean feat; it was a small town and there were only a handful of galleries in the area. But suddenly, it dawned on you, that it probably wasn’t the brightest career move to make, being that much of your current livelihood depended on the support from people in Charlene’s circle.

All the same, who sits around fretting over a reputation or a career when you could be with Eddie? Definitely not you.

“Still no word from Batman?” You asked Robin as the three of them headed for the door.

Robin pressed her lips together so that her mouth became a thin, pensive line, the silver ball from her lip ring sliding to one side, and she shook her head. “No, and I haven’t been able to get a hold of Wayne either, so we’re going to drive by his place once we leave here.”

You’d be at the gallery for another hour after the event was over to clean up, and so you gave Robin one of their business cards with the phone number on it. “Please let me know what you find out?”

When you said the final goodbyes, it was dusk, and you poked your head out the door to watch them trot off down the sidewalk: Oliver in the middle, with Katie and Robin on either side, holding his hands. At one point he jumped and they swung him a few feet, giggling as he went. You weren’t much of a crier, but for some reason, the sight made tears well up in your eyes.

Jeff had the weekend off, but you found out from your other assistant, Holly, that Judith had gone home, and the news made your shoulders drop with relief. The sidewalk was bustling when the two of you locked the doors, busy with couples and friends coming in and out of the various bars and restaurants on your street. There was that buzz of spring time excitement in the air; people coming out of their caves after a long winter, ready to shake off the cobwebs and show off their pedicures.

You told Holly to take home whatever she wanted from the leftover spread of food. “You can head home, I’ll finish the rest of this up,” you assured her. Holly had just turned 21 recently, and you knew she was aching to get out and enjoy her active social life. You, on the other hand, were daydreaming about a quality night stretched out on the sofa after the events of the previous evening. Holly went out the back door, and you stayed to watch and make sure she got to her car safely before locking yourself into the building, and that’s when the phone rang.

The floor was extra smooth in the back hall, and you slipped a bit as you quickly spun around, pushing yourself off the wall, arms pumping to gain momentum as you bolted for the beige landline mounted on the wall in the office.

“Thank you for calling Moon River Gallery, this is----”

At the other end was Robin. “Wayne was rushed to the hospital last night,” she said with a sniff, as if she’d just been crying. “He’s okay now, but I’m pissed that Eddie didn’t tell anyone.”

Your heart sank as you leaned your hip against the table. “Oh, no, what happened?”

She sniffed again. “I’m not really sure. I guess they put him on some different meds, and he got lightheaded and fell...and hit his head on the...on the….” her voice trembled and she couldn’t get it out, and so Katie took the phone.

“Hi, it’s me,” Katie said. “He hit his head on the kitchen counter as he went down and he’s banged up. It looks worse than it is though, he’s going to be totally fine,” you could tell she was saying it more to Robin than to you. “Sorry it took so long to call, we just got back from the hospital. He was sleeping, but we got to see him.”

“No, you’re good, I’m so glad you called,” you flicked the light switches that turned off all of the artwork spot lights and the main over head, so the only illumination was in the front windows, the back room where you were, and the deep blue glow from light strips on the main floor. You had not yet officially met uncle Wayne, but you knew how much he meant to all of them, especially Eddie. “What about Eddie? Was he at the hospital?”

“Eddie left when we got there,” Katie sounded confused. “He said he was going to find you.”

------

Getting a call like that from the hospital put Eddie’s head in a dark place. It sent him into survival mode; he couldn’t deal with anything else until he knew that Wayne was okay. He stayed by Wayne’s bed that night, wide awake, eyes bloodshot, knee bouncing, thinking about loving people only to lose them in the end. Fear curled its icy hand around his heart; Eddie had already lost so many people he cared about, he worried that one more would break him.

And then his thoughts rushed to you. The two of you were barely a thing, and already the idea of losing you made his eyes go black with the idea of an emptiness that had the potential to gut him beyond repair. His first instinct was to distance himself from you; he was eerily adept at closing himself off, blocking the world out, and pushing people away. In his life, whenever something good happened, he was always very suspicious about what type of disaster was right around the corner.

Yet, all he wanted in the world at that moment—besides someone to tell him that Wayne’s cancer was miraculously cured---was for you to be there with him in that dark, lonely hospital room. Machines beeping, the smell of antiseptic and bleach and dread. If you could be in his lap, he’d wrap his arms around you and close his eyes and put his head to your chest, and you’d promise him in that sweet voice of yours that nothing bad would ever happen to you, and you’d always be his. You couldn’t promise those things, and he knew that, but the idea of resting his face against the side of your neck did help him to get an hour of sleep in a very stiff chair that was too small for him.

Wayne woke up early in the morning, and Eddie was able to talk with him a bit, and get an idea of what to expect from the nurses. Once he knew that Wayne was in good hands, and he could stop spinning his wheels, he had to go back to work and take care of the three tows that were already lined up. There was one other driver, but business had been growing, and he almost needed to hire a third. Now, he also needed to find an office assistant, even though Wayne kept protesting the idea. No one could replace Wayne, but the part time help would lessen his burdens.

He should’ve called to let Robin and Steve know what happened, he realized that now, and he should’ve called you, but the day got so damn busy so fast, and since Wayne was okay, he didn’t want to alarm anyone needlessly. He’s lucky Robin didn’t slap him across the face, because she looked like she was about to.

By the time he finished up at the garage and went over to check on Wayne one more time, it was late---but he needed to see you. He had to see your face before his heart exploded.

--------

You had just hung up from the phone call with Katie and Robin when you jumped at the sound of a soft tapping noise. At first, you didn’t know where it was coming from, and your ear prickled as you tried to use it as an antennae to guide you to the sound. The main floor was full of shadows; only dark blue atmosphere lights that made you feel like you were in an aquarium, and the illumination from the front window.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

You stepped around one of the big, freestanding artwork dividers, just as you realized the sound was coming from the front window.

And then you saw him.

Shrouded in the residual purple darkness of a sunset, standing at the front door with one knee out to the side, hand down low, knuckle casually but repetitively hitting the glass. Wearing all black; jeans, leather, shirt, the only color peaking out was from his tattoos. Your eyes found each other at the same time, just as you came into view, and it was all you could do not to start giggling and skipping along at how happy you were to see him.

You tried to wipe the smile off of your face as you headed for the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed,” you were shaking your head, frowning, trying to act like you didn’t know who he was.

The stern look on his face slipped a little at the corners of his mouth, but he maintained intense eye contact with you, continuing the tap...tap…tap, with the hand that said “H-E-L-L” across the knuckles while the other knuckles spelled out “F-I-R-E”, until you got closer and there was nothing but a pane of glass between the two of you. You broke eye contact just long enough to twist open the double locks, and then he stood there in the doorway bit longer, bracing his arm high on the frame; shirt and coat rising to show the hint of a tattoo at his hip.

“Can I take you to dinner? Are you hungry?” He asked as you motioned him in. He was reluctant because he didn’t think he’d be allowed in there. Much like a vampire, he had to be invited.

“Sure, but, it’s late,” you said as you secured the door again. He turned to you, about to say something else, but then you closed in on him, grabbing onto his jacket with both hands, hips coming together, and he brought his hands to rest on the top of your shoulders. “I’m really glad Wayne is okay,” you whispered, regarding him with the utmost sincerity.

He played with a wisp of hair at the base of your neck. “I should’ve called you, but I--”

“You’re here now,” you beamed. His left eye was swollen, with a bit of bluish black discoloration, and there was a tiny butterfly band-aid over the small cut above his eyebrow.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he returned in a low voice, bending down to kiss your lips, gripping one side of your neck as he did, his thumb stretching up over your jaw. You moaned against his mouth and the sound made his brow clench, stretching his other hand down to casually adjust himself in his jeans.

He moved his hand around the back of your neck as you pulled apart, his eyes trained on your mouth. “How is your tongue?” He almost couldn’t even talk about it, the idea of you getting hit in the face—even accidentally—made him want to start punching walls.

You raised your eyebrows a few times. “I could still eat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“There’s that all night diner down a couple streets,” his voice a low mumble. “They have those vegetarian burger things, I checked.”

For some reason, that thoughtful gesture sent you even further over the moon about him, and you slipped one hand into his back pocket while the other one played with his wallet chain. “And what will you have? A big, fat steak?”

“The bloodier the better,” he said, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.

You planted another quick kiss on him, and then, “here, follow me. I just have one more thing to finish up and then we can go get some blood in your mouth again.”

The front desk against the wall was long and rectangular and came up to your waist. You pulled one of the stools out from under the alcove and placed it next to you so that he could have a seat while you finished sorting some invoices under the dim blue light. Eddie sat with his back against a filing cabinet, legs spread wide, one hand on his hip, the other forearm on his thigh, the hand with the digital wrist watch hanging down between. He tilted his head to watch you as you bent over several times to scribble something on a piece of paper.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, and you threw him a bashful look over your shoulder. “Come to me,” and he slapped his hand on his leg a few times, directing you where to sit. “You’re too far away.”

He probably meant for you to side-saddle him like he was Santa Claus, but instead, you slid your skirt up your thighs and straddled his whole leg, facing him, like you were about to ride his thigh like a horse, hands braced on his chest. Eddie smirked at how you crawled onto him, he cupped one palm under your butt cheek and popped his knee a few times so that you were, indeed, riding him.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you told him as he brought a hand up to either side of your face, tucking hair behind your ears, brushing his thumb across your skin, metal rings cool as they scissored your ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, dark eyes searching yours. “What else do you like?”

You brought your hand up and ran your finger down his full lips, gently pulling the bottom one open as you went. “I like your mouth.”

He kissed your finger, said a quiet, “you can have it,” and then, with both hands, pulled your face to his, lips parting, tongues exploring, faces turning to avoid noses and lick deeper, hungry moans rising. You slipped a hand around the side of his warm throat, dipping your fingers into the downy hair at the base of his skull, his tiny silver cross earring grazing your hand.

It was only then that you became aware of the grinding you were doing on his leg, and by the time you were aware of it, you didn't want to stop. You needed it, you were drunk on the sweetness of his mouth, the spicy pine and leather of his scent. It was one of the first warm nights in a while, and so you weren’t wearing nylons or tights, and the thin material of your underwear was the only barrier between his denim and your cookie box.

Eddie knew what was happening from the first twitch of your pelvis, and one of his hands slid down to your hip, locking you there, encouraging it. You started to push off of the balls of your feet to deepen the friction as the need for stimulation increased.

“That’s my baby,” Eddie growled as you put your forehead to his. He slid his hand around to make a fist in your hair, pulling your head back so that he could have access to your throat. He sucked at your pulse point, groaning as he did so, while your other hand clung to his jacket for dear life.

The hair tug made you whimper. “That,” you breathed. “I like that too.”

He tightened his grip, taking control of your head, forcing your lips back to his for another deep kiss. He was lifting his leg to meet your needs now, anticipating the rhythm. “Good girl, I got you,” his voice was barely a murmur, lips grazing yours. You started to saw faster back and forth on his leg, slipping one hand down to his other thigh to anchor you, caught unaware at how good it felt and how close you were.

Outside, people were still passing by on the sidewalk, finishing up with their dinners and heading home, or to a bar, but the desk blocked you from view so no one could see that you were rocking like a cowgirl bound for hell.

Your underwear were soaked now, seeping onto his jeans; your cunt swollen and aching against the perfect mix of friction against his denim. You were breathless, mumbling the answer to an unasked question, “uh huh uh huh oh god,” as he put your forehead back to his, one hand still clenched in your hair. You were whispering incoherent parts of words, saying his name, and then you started to feel a spring bounce open inside of you. Eddie could feel it too; you trembled and choked his name one more time, and then you fell forward, curling against him with quickened thrusts.

He tilted his head so that your mouth could find his neck to use as a muffle for your scream, your tongue melting on the salt of his skin. His strong arms secured your body to his as you continued to grind on his leg. “I got you, baby, cum for me…” he coaxed, bracing your hip and the back of your head.

But it wouldn’t take much coaxing, because suddenly you were there: stiffening up against him, letting out a sharp cry just below his ear, one hand holding the other side of his head as if you were feeding on his jugular. His grip on you tightened as your body shuddered, going blind for a second, whimpering against his throat.

Eddie let out a guttural curse as the wetness from your warm pussy penetrated the skin beneath his denim, pre-cum soaking the tip of his cock inside his jeans in response. You let your full weight fall against him, safe, knowing he wouldn’t let you fall, pussy contracting in the afterglow, face buried in his neck and hair.

“Damn, what was that,” you gasped once you were finally able to speak, shoulders trembling in the afterquake. Should you be embarassed? You’d never cum like that before in your life.

He gave a throaty chuckle, his hand rubbing up and down on your back. “I won’t be washing these jeans for a while.”

You were starting to sit up, smoothing your hair back and licking your lips, when you noticed the cherry red glow of a hickey appearing on his neck surrounded by some teeth indentations. “Oops,” you ran your thumb over it, thinking it might be lipstick. “I marked you, now I guess that means you’re mine.”

“I’m fine with it,” his serious eyes found yours from under hooded, sleepy lids.

You were both starving by the time you locked up the gallery, and Eddie’s bike was parked close, so you agreed to ride with him, and then he’d bring you back to your car after. You had brought a change of clothes with you, as you always did so that you could get out of your fussy gallery clothes as quickly as possible, and now you were comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt with your black converse. You hadn’t thought to bring a change of underwear, but you would from now on.

Out on the sidewalk, you eyeballed the big beast of a bike with only a tiny space on the seat for a second rider. He lit a smoke and passed you the helmet that had been hanging on one of his handlebars.

You looked down at it. “But, don’t you need to wear this?”

He shook his head, cigarette pressed between his lips. “I only have one with me, and your head is more important than mine.” He zipped up his jacket and swung one leg over, mounting it.

He could tell you were hesitating. “We’re only going a couple blocks,” he assured you. “If you hate it, you never have to get on this thing again.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you scrambled to find the right words as you strapped your bag across your body put the helmet on, tightening the chin strap. The helmet was way too big for you and you worried you looked like a real dork. “I’m just not sure...how to do this.”

He hitched his chin at you, planting his feet on either side to hold the chopper steady. “Grab onto the back of my jacket, put this foot here...and then swing the other one over.”

Once you were on, you adjusted your bum on the seat and held onto the sides of his leather, fingers clawing at him nervously, letting him know that you were ready.

Eddie kicked the beast to life with a hop and a twist of his fits on the handlebars; it growled its obedience loud and fierce. People stopped on either side of the street to turn and see where the noise was coming from, and most of them stayed to watch as Eddie walked the massive, menacing bike out to get a clean shot in through the passing cars.

He took one of your hands and brought it around so that it was at his stomach, your chin at his shoulder. “Hold on tight, baby,” he called to you over the roar, and then he lifted his feet and the two of you shot into the night, his discarded cigarette bouncing to the pavement in a dance of orange sparks.

A few cars away, down at the dark end of the street, a white Jaguar idled with the headlights off, and the blonde woman behind the wheel cursed under her breath as she watched the two of you go, anger and jealousy tightening her face. Charlene Gregson was smoking a cigarette, too, and on the exhale, she hissed, “I’m going to make her regret she ever met you, Edward Munson.”

---------

Katie’s eyes rolled back in her head as Robin’s fingers worked her in the perfect spot, “fuck, right there right there,” and then Robin put her other hand over Katie’s mouth to keep her quiet as her orgasm mounted. Oliver was asleep across the hall, and Steve was having a beer in front of the TV after just getting off work. Her cries properly muffled, Robin curled the fingers of her other hand deep in the honey pot and bent her head to find Katie’s nipple with her mouth.

Katie was trying to tell her something, heels digging into the bed, her body gyrating against Robin’s hand. Robin thought she was just really vocal in bed, but then she felt the warm spray coat her hand in bursts, and that’s when she found out, in a moment of awe, that Katie was a squirter.

--------

On Sunday, Katie was working on lessons plans for the first day back after break, but you convinced her to let you take her out to dinner. Later on, you showed up at the tattoo shop Steve worked at just as he was bent over inking a big lower back butterfly for a woman. You flipped through the flash in the tattoo books, talking about maybe getting matching ones. Katie had a tattoo on her ankle, and you had one on your shoulder blade in honor of your grandmother, but neither of you were close to the quantity and quality of work that Steve, Robin, and Eddie had, but you had to start somewhere.

“Did you know that Robin has had two of her girlfriend’s names tattooed on her?” Katie asked you, loud enough for Steve to hear.

Still focused on what he was working on, Steve joined the conversation. “Hey, I didn’t put those names on her, but I was excited when she let me cover them up.”

Robin was at work that afternoon; at one of her side gigs as a maid at one of the fancy local hotels, and it was optimal because she was always able to bring Oliver with her. He loved taking home the tiny shampoo bottles and soaps.

“I can always draw up a design for you girls, if you have something in mind,” Steve announced, looking up briefly as the two of you came up to the counter to say goodbye.

“What do you think?” Katie turned to you, one eyebrow up. “Maybe a dotted line across our throats that says ‘cut here’?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I did that one,” Steve mumbled.

---------

On the opposite side of town in the industrial district, Eddie had a guy by the throat and was sliding him up a brick wall in an alley, holding him there, his feet off the ground, trying to kick out feebly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Eddie asked him with a tilt of his head, voice calm but eyes narrowed.

The guy was struggling for air, spitting, face going blue, and all he could do was bare his teeth in a slobbery grimace.

“Check his pockets,” Eddie told the other two bikers that were with him, bracing the guy against the wall like he weighed nothing.

The object of Eddie’s chokehold was a weaselly snake of a man named Rollo who borrowed a large sum of money under Eddie’s name from the Coffin Kings, gambled it all away, and tried to split town. Eddie was supposed to bust his knee caps, but scaring the actual piss out of him, and taking his wallet was punishment enough, he felt. Eddie could be a very violent man if he wanted to, but only on his terms and never at anyone else’s command. Rollo’s two other friends were on the ground; one was unconscious and the other one was doubled over in pain.

“Look in my eyes,” Eddie told Rollo as the other guys found Rollo’s wallet and continued digging around for whatever else he had on him. “The next time you see these eyes, you won’t be able to walk away on two legs, do you understand?”

Rollo nodded a few tiny nods, and Eddie released his hand, letting his body slump to the ground against the wall, coughing, trying to swallow. He was stocky with a beer belly, but short, bald with a goatee.

“Now, get the fuck out of here,” Eddie grumbled as he turned on his heel. “Get the hell out of this town if you know what’s good for you.”

Eddie released a heavy sigh as he mounted his bike, pausing just for a second to remember how tight your body had been pressed against him the night before, the way you had clung to him for dear life, screaming a little when he turned corners. At dinner, you held his hand across the table, right in front of everyone, as if being with a grease monkey and a thug like him didn’t bother you at all. He didn’t know you’d grown up poor, with an alcoholic mother, and you had to learn to be scrappy as hell to get the things you wanted—nothing had been handed to you. He assumed that the two of you had grown up on opposite side of the tracks, in a sense, that you were perfect and polished, and one day soon, you’d realize that he was far from it.

He should’ve been on top of the world knowing that he had you to look forward to, but Eddie had a bad feeling in his gut that he couldn’t ignore. That ominous, invisible tug reminding him that something was about to go wrong was ever-present.

-------------

There was a downpour on Sunday night, and you were just about to check the answering machine to see if Eddie called while Katie started her yoga practice in the living room, when Jeff showed up at your door unannounced. The frantic knocking on the front window made you both jump, and then, there he was in a big, clear poncho with a hood over his head. He shook himself out on the porch before he came in all the way, unbuttoning his slicker to hang it on one of the coat hooks. Jeff had never been to your place before, so you were amused at how he just made himself at home. He took his shoes off before he stepped onto the carpet, even though that wasn’t something either of you required of your house guests.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” He demanded, clearly distraught, looking around as if to check and see where the phone in question was.

“We just got home a little bit ago,” Katie told him, sitting up on her mat to pull her knees to her chest. “What’s going on?”

“Did you listen to the message I left?” He pressed, eyes wide and blinking dramatically at you.

The light was flashing on the machine and your finger was on the button to play the messages back, but you hadn’t pushed it yet, and you flipped a glance at Katie, your heart racing a little.

“Jeff,” you sighed, exasperated. “Please, you’re here, just tell me.”

Jeff puffed out a long breath, hang high on his hip. “First, tell me why you’re leaving the gallery. Is it because of me?”

Disbelief took hold of you initially; you were sure Jeff had just overheard something wrong or made a mistake.

Jeff continued. “If it’s not because of me, and you’re just going to a better gallery, please, take me with you?”

“Hold on,” you put your hand up, trying to make sense of what he was saying as you sat down in the wood chair by the phone. “What made you think I was quitting?”

Jeff’s disturbingly bright blue eyes softened as they found yours and he realized that you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He went over and took a seat at one of the padded bar stools next to the kitchen island, and then he looked down at his hands, suddenly wishing he would’ve waited for you to check your messages.

“I had to go in and get my check late today because I was gone Saturday,” he paused almost as if that was the end of it, but then he lifted his head, an apologetic look on his face as he looked at you. “Judith said I needed to come in for a couple hours on Wednesday to train with the new manager because you were leaving.”

You froze, letting that sink in. Still an element of denial present, you wondered if maybe Jeff heard Judith wrong---perhaps another manager from a different gallery was visiting? But, if so, why wouldn’t you know about it? Why would Judith tell Jeff about it and not you?

“Hunny?” Katie called to you because you weren’t saying anything, your mouth was just hanging open. You snapped it shut abruptly and swallowed.

Jeff shook his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be the one to---” sure, Jeff loved a good gossip train, but he genuinely did not want to be the one to inadvertently break it to you that you had been fired without a warning. “I thought you quit, and you just didn’t want to tell me. I thought you already knew.”

Your mind went to Judith’s face at the art show on Saturday, how she had been throwing you dirty looks while simultaneously avoiding you. You were already fired then, and you just didn’t know it.

“I’m fine,” you breathed a forced laugh, hoping to calm everyone else in the room even though your stomach clenched with fear of the unknown. “Everything is fine, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Jeff and Katie exchanged a look, and then they both turned back to you, but your eyes were focused on the floor, the tip of your tongue hovering on your top lip, pensively. Outside, a blast of thunder boomed so hard, there was the equivalent of a light bulb flash in the front window, and a few of the neighborhood car alarms went off, bleating like ominous warnings in the distance.

-------

Later that night, long after Jeff left and Katie had gone to bed, you sat out in the dark of the living room, alone, playing back the messages at low volume while rain continued its lullaby on the windows.

There were four: two from Jeff, one from a credit card company, and...one from Eddie. You had already played it several times, but you played it again, this time with your head tilted, ear close to the speaker of the machine, and your eyes closed.

“...hey, it’s me,” his deep voice wavered a bit and then he cleared his throat. “...damn, you know I hate these things….but I got home and wanted to tell you…that I was thinkin’ about you.”

You’d been holding the stress of the past few hours at bay, letting the knowledge of your abrupt and back-stabbing dismissal tighten in your stomach, but then the sound of his voice broke you a little, and your chest hitched a few times, a single tear making its way down the bridge of your nose.

There was a long pause where it sounded like he was stretching. “...you can call me...or not…I hope you had a good day. Mine was shit,” you could hear him whistle a bit and click his tongue, wondering what to say while simultaneously feeling stupid for talking to a machine. “Let me know if we’re still on for Tuesday night…I’d really like to...to see you again. Okay, later.”

And then, he was gone. You played it several more times before you went to bed, angrily wiping tears off your cheeks. You couldn’t talk to him just yet; you were still too confused and blindsided to get into it with anyone. Plus, you were exhausted, and triggered by rising feelings of abandonment and worthlessness. After you dealt with whatever lame excuse of a conversation Judith had in store for you when you went into work the next day, maybe you’d just stop by the garage to see him for a bit. Maybe he’d be able to fuck the pain away.

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Part 7

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Taglist xoxo @unfocused81 @manicmagicmahem @dream-a-little-nightmare @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @falling-solar-system @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @tlclick73 @truffleshuffle12 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @hellv1ra @bexreadstoomuch @kurdtbean @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @ireidsmut @lilpotatobean2 @leilaloufeyson02

#eddie munson #older eddie munson #bikereddiemunson #eddiemunsonsmut #eddiemunsonseries #strangerthingseddiemunson #eddie munson angst #eddimunsonxfemreader #femreader

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aphrogeneias · 8 months

Text

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 — fingering

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: mirror sex with a side of oral fixation. reader's outfit is described but their body or other physical attributes are not.

Steve couldn't keep his hands off of you the whole night.

One couldn't possibly blame him, not when you looked like that. He'd been wanting to get you alone since you were getting ready, but you'd insisted on inviting Robin to get ready at your place — because according to you, Robin couldn't do her makeup without hurting herself at least once, and unfortunately, he knew that to be true.

He meant unfortunately not because he didn't like having his best friend and his girlfriend around, but because he wasn't able to bend you over your vanity and fuck you within an inch of your life after seeing what you were wearing.

It was ironic, since he almost said no to your proposal of a couple's costume. He didn't have the best memories of this sort of thing, and after spending the last Halloween with Robin's band friends at a party he knew almost nobody, he thought that would be it. No more cutesy shit, no more going home with someone that would still be there in the morning.

Until you, that is. Steve threw all the caution he had carefully gathered over the last couple of years on your first date, and he didn't regret it for a second. Not even when you suggested he'd dress as Sonny Bono for this year's Halloween, to go along with your Cher costume. Not when you walked into your room in a tight, chrome silver jumpsuit that hugged your curves and showed your tummy, making his hands itch to touch you.

He kept one hand on you through the entire car ride to the party, feeling your warm skin through the slick material of your clothes. When you got there, it only got worse as he saw you glow under the black light.

After one too many beers and a couple of very suspicious cups of punch, Steve felt hot. Like his skin was burning, and touching you would be the balm that would soothe him. He opened more buttons on his patterned shirt, feeling his already tight bell bottoms tighten as he watched you dance with your friends, finding his eyes across the room.

You both must have had the same idea at the same time, because you met halfway in the middle of the improvised dance floor, matching looks of mischief in your eyes. It wasn't long until you were pulling each other up the stairs and into the nearest bathroom, sharing messy kisses and giggling into each other's mouths as you stumbled into the counter.

"It tickles." You said between a giggle and sigh, holding his face with both hands. The fake mustache was a nuisance, but he was far too eager to have to take it off now.

"You said it was sexy." He countered while running his hands through your body, finally being able to grope you shamelessly, just the way he wanted. It made him feral, feeling your soft skin under his big hands.

"Never said otherwise."

Your breathy voice kept him going, and the smell of your perfume made him dizzy as he lay hot kisses down your neck, and lowering the upper part of your jumpsuit down until he fully removed it, leaving it hanging as he kissed down your collarbones, and lavishing your tits with his tongue whilst one hand dipped further down your navel and into your panties.

"Turn around, baby."

Without hesitating, you did what you were told. Steve wanted you to see yourself as he did — already fucked out, eyes hazy with lust, all glitter and spit on your pretty skin, tits out, silently begging him to do something already.

Lucky for you, you never had to beg. Steve always gave you everything willingly, almost too willingly.

His hand made quick work of your thong, pushing it to the side and dipping his fingers under your folds, rubbing your clit in slow, tight circles, and then spending his movements as you whined for more. He could already feel the wetness seeping out of you, spreading it around and teasing your hole before he dipped two, thick fingers at once into you.

Your moans were getting louder, but not louder than the music outside. Still, Steve used his other hand to insert two fingers into your gaping mouth, and to his delight, started sucking on them right away while he worked your pussy in tandem.

"That's it, that's it, baby. Take my fingers, ride'em good." He breathed into your ear, feeling your goosebumps all over. "Look so good like this, taking all I give you. I wanna give it all to you."

He accented each of his words with a thrust of his fingers, hitting that spot every time. With a hand grabbing the sink and the other around his wrist, you squeezed your grip, signaling that you were close. Steve kept his rhythm, feeling your pussy clamp around his fingers and gush slick down his wrist as you whimpered and whined through your orgasm, hips bucking wildly into his hand.

When he removed his hand from your mouth, you were a mess of drool and teary eyes, your mascara running down your cheeks, hair that was once put together, a mess. You were the most beautiful girl at this party, and only he had the privilege of seeing you like this.

You slumped back into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Steve put his arms around you, not carinha for the mess you made on both of his hands, placing soft kisses wherever he could reach. "You good, honey?"

"I'll be better if you make good on your promise of giving me it all, Harrington."

"Was that not enough?" He grinned at you through the mirror.

"The night is young. Do your worst."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #kinktober 2023

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Note

I literally love your work and this 3k celebration is absolutely GENIUS so can I please get a filthy martini with Steve Harrington? Can it be enemies with benefits(also hate fucking? I blame you for this new trope obsession bc 24 hours GOT ME FERAL)?

nonnie i love you this is the such an incredible request i can only hope i did it justice oh my GOD

come party with me!

sweet like honey (steve harrington x fem! reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, mean steve sort of if you squint?, oral f receiving, talk of unprotected sex, cnc hickies? is that a thing? she says no and then he does it anyway?, arguing over using protection (steve says he'll convince her to not use it next time, but they use it this time!), not edited, minors dni

You hate him. You swear it to yourself, to your friends, to your own mother who sometimes points him out at sport events or at the local grocery store. You hate Steve Harrington. Simple as that.

But maybe, just maybe, it isn't as simple as that.

Because you hate him, yes - to your very core - but you still always end up here. You still answer when he texts you in the middle of the night, you still meet him at your spot at the park that serves as a halfway point between your house and his, and you still end up in his lap in the backseat of the BMW his daddy bought for him.

“This is the last time, Harrington,” you murmur through fervent kisses as you sit as comfortably as possible in his lap, “I mean it.”

He pulls back with that boyish grin that you absolutely despise, tightening his grip on your hips as his head tilts, “Of course, honey. Just like you said the last two times, right?”

You don’t offer him an answer, instead plunging back in for a biting kiss. You imagine that if you take his bottom lip between your teeth hard enough, if you bite down with the right pressure, he’ll bleed. And the thought of tasting Steve Harrington’s blood across your tongue is more exciting than you care to admit.

“Yes, but I really do mean it this time,” you insist against his mouth, your hangs tangling against the roots of his hair. Your goal is to mess it up, to rake through the product and all the time you know he spends in the mirror each morning, and ruin it.

He only hums in response and urges you down onto his lap harder, the bulge confined in his jeans pressing into you more noticeably.

“Hard already?” you tsk, rolling your hips harder against him, eliciting a load moan from his lips.

He’s just so easy. Maybe that’s why you keep coming back for more.

“God, just shut up,” he gasps against you, moving his mouth along your jaw and neck.

He starts to suck hard on your sweet spot, which in return makes you tug sharply on his hair. Hard enough to make him hiss in pain, “No fucking marks, how many times do I have to tell you?”

“I know,” he says, clearly not knowing, as he continues to chuckle and trace his finger along the junction of your neck and shoulder, “But imagine just how pretty you’d look, all marked up by me.”

“And imagine how pretty you’d look with your head between my thighs, not fucking talking,” you remark back.

No marks. Because if he left a mark, then people might know. And you’d rather die than have anyone find out you had been fucking around with Steve Harrington the last two months.

Steve suddenly maneuvers the two of you so that you’re laid out across the seat, fitting himself between your legs with clear practice. The two of you have been in this backseat more times than you can count, and have learned your way around the confinement of it all.

He pushes up the flimsy sleep shorts you’d worn out, bunching them at the top of your thighs as far as they will go as he places kisses up your inner thigh, starting at your knee, “I know you said no marks, sweetie,” his tone is laced with condescending confidence, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he looks up at you, “But what about here, hm? Where no one can see them? Do we have a deal?”

He’s going to get his way. He always knows he can get his way when he starts to soften you up like this, one hand gripping your knee and already guiding it over his shoulder as the other trails beneath the waistband of the shorts and draws circles on your hip.

“If anyone can see them, Harrington, I’ll-”

“Kick my ass,” he finishes your sentence for you, already moving to nuzzle his nose into your thigh, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before, babe.”

He sucks and nips immediately at your makeshift permission, his saliva glistening against the purple bursting to life on your skin in the shape of his lips.

“Lay off the nicknames,” you sigh, throwing your head back as his moves to make a second mark, higher up and closer to where you ache for him, “Or I will go back home and leave you with blue balls.”

His chuckle vibrates against your skin, eyes flicking up towards you. It’s a shame he’s such an absolute dick, because he looks pretty from here. Hair messed up as you intended, pupils blown wide, lips nearly magnetic against you as if he can’t get enough.

“Oh, honey, you wouldn’t,” he taunts, finally sitting up, beginning to take off your shorts, “We both know you don’t mean it, do you? You can threaten me all you want, but you still come back every,” your shorts are off, and he pauses to lean down and bite at your hip now before continuing, “single,” he moves to the other hip, sucking hard, leaving a weaker shade of violet in his path, “time.”

You don’t reply as you whine out, hips bucking up, encouraging him to get it over with. To put his mouth where you need it most. To stop with his incessant cooing and taunting and to just fuck you with his tongue.

He gets the message fairly clearly through his thick skull.

And you like him best like this, quiet as he slides your panties to the side, tongue on your clit and already sliding his fingers into you, hellbent on unraveling you. He’s learned your body best at this point, knowing when to crook his fingers as he adds a second one, when to alternate between wrapping his lips around your clit to suck and using only the tip of his tongue to trace invisible shapes lost on you. He’s quiet, he’s as messy as a boy like him is capable of getting, and he knows.

But he’s eager. You’d say it’s his downfall, but you truly reap the benefits when he brings you right to the edge only to pull back and begin to make quick work of his own pants. He’s still in his jeans and polo, his work vest discarded in the front seat, his belt quickly joining it.

You have no time to make another smart ass remark. No opportunity to poke fun at the way he bumps his head against the roof of the car or the way he struggles with his zipper a second longer than he should. Because once he’s gotten his cock out of his briefs, thick and pink and already leaking from the tip for you, he makes quick work to be inside you.

“Condom,” you gasp out as his tip circles your interest, making him pause for the first time the entire night.

His eyebrows furrow, “You’re on the pill, yeah? We didn’t use one last time.”

“My mistake,” you grit out, fighting the urge to just let him sink into you, to feel him stretch you in a way you both know only he can, “I know you’re fucking other girls. Wrap it, or I’m out, Harrington.”

A sudden break of softness. In an instant, his teasing halts and he pulls back, looking at you with a hand still wrapped around his base, “I’m not fucking other girls.”

“What?”

“I said,” he leans down, warm brown eyes staring into yours, “I’m not fucking other girls. Only you. Only has been you since this entire thing started.”

If you were an idiot, you’d read more into his words. You’d read into the fact that the town’s womanizer, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, has taken himself off the market for you. You’d think about it the rest of the night, your entire way back home, fantasize about it as you closed your eyes and begged for sleep.

But you’re not an idiot. So you laugh at him.

“Bullshit,” you say, maintaining eye contact, daring him into some unspoken war between the two of you.

You watch as his jaw locks, his eyes set in stone, before he suddenly is fumbling around the car floor and producing his wallet. He pulls a condom from where it had been nestled between an abhorrent amount of cash, and he’s hasty in ripping it open.

“Fine,” he mumbles as he rolls the latex over his cock, “Fine. You want me to wear a condom, sweet thing? I’ll wear a condom. But I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll be begging me to go raw next time.”

Your stomach clenches, your core flutters. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’re already reconsidering your insistence.

“Consider it a challenge, Harrington.”

When the stretch finally comes, you’re preening into him, back arching and legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He’s harsh now in his actions, hardly allotting time to adjust once he bottoms out before he pulls back and repeats the motion, slamming into you harder the second time.

He finds his rhythm quickly; he knows what you like. He knows that you want it rough, that you want him to destroy you from the inside out. Your nails claw at him through the cotton of his shirt, and you consider the ramifications if you were to tear through the fabric, leave holes and make the shirt unrecognizable.

Mommy and daddy would probably buy him a new one.

Your fingers dig in deeper at the thought.

“This good, yeah?” he asks, snapping his hips up into your hard enough to that your body shifts upwards, back burning from the rough tapestry of the seat and the top of your head banging into the car door, “You like it hard, don’t you, baby?”

No words are formed, your mouth open as whines and moans alike tear from your throat, pulling him in closer. He dips his lips back down into your shoulder, placing messy kisses up to your throat.

“You’re always such a good little slut for me, aren’t you? What would your mother think? What would your friends think?” he presses as a hand grips your bare thigh hard enough to leave marks, holding your leg even harder to his hips, “Going all cock drunk for Steve Harrington, the boy you hate.”

“Shut up,” you groan out, grabbing at his hair and pulling harshly, trying to lift his head from your throat. He doesn’t follow the pull of your hand. Instead, he bites down on the skin he was previously kissing innocently against.

He leaves a mark. You know he does. But all you're capable of is a pathetic whine as your pussy flutters around him, sucking him deeper into you.

“Fucking knew it,” he mumbles against the skin before his tongue lathes over the spot that still stings, “Fucking knew you loved being marked up, baby. Tried to stop me all this time because you knew you loved it so much.”

“Steve,” you beg as your head hits the door yet again from the force of another thrust.

He slows his movements, head lifting to take in your features. Your teary eyes, your heaving chest to match his own, “Fuck, too hard?”

You breathlessly laugh, shaking your head, pressing your heel into his lower back, “Harder. Please.”

Those two words are all it takes. Something snaps inside of Steve right there, in his backseat, you a writhing mess beneath him as his jeans continue to slip down his thighs. Your pleads are his command; he offers the smallest of mercies by moving a palm to protect the top of your head before his thrusts turn animalistic.

He’s pounding into you as if his life depends on it, as if your pussy is a warm and wet savior he had sought out for years. The surrounding windows begin to fog over as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, swallowing each of your mewls in exchange for guttural moans of his own. Your pussy clenches down on him, hard, and it does nothing to slow his pace.

“Fuck,” you call out, back arching further. His hand trails below you and settles into the curve of your lower back, pressing you up against him further as he continues. “Oh my God, don’t stop. Please, fuck- Don’t stop. Please, please.”

Steve laughs lowly at your babbling, “I’m not, sweetheart. I’m not. Let go.”

Just like that, you feel the pleasure heat up your core, molten between your hips as you feel every inch of him continue to stretch your walls. His hips begin to stutter as you tighten around him, crying out as the coil tightens to it’s breaking point. It overflows from you, whimpers and cries alike as he kisses them away with clashing lips and teeth. The waves of euphoria are still consuming you and dragging you under when he suddenly stiffens, stilling deep inside of you and collapsing down on top of your chest, groaning the loudest of the night between pants, his hand still curled into the small of your back.

You suddenly wish you could feel his heat filling you. He was right - next time, there will be no condoms. You want to feel him, need to feel all of him.

You both are quiet as you catch your breaths, neither saying a word as you come down from your highs. In a moment of innocent serenity, accidental peace amongst enemies, he presses his cheek against your sternum through your own shirt. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest against your torso.

But the peace must end. Because you’re you, and Steve’s Steve, and the two of you can only fit together so effortlessly for so long. He finally lifts his head, the devilish boyish grin returning, as he asks, “So, same time tomorrow, honey?”

#3k celebration #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #side note i tried to make a divider for this event but can't figure out how to make it transparent boooo #i wrote this in like an hour i'm sorry if it sucks haha #it simply poured out of me the moment i saw the request

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Note

no cos javier and steve both in bed w u and steve has to keep reminding javier to share im going feral

anon you're pulling me back into a pit that I barely managed to escape from fbfgbg I legit read this and a huge ass lightbulb came to life in my head, god I need to rewatch narcos

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄

pairing: javier p x fem!reader x steve murphy

genre: filth filth filth , minors dni

word count: 430

summary: steve wants javier to share

warnings: fingering, oral (receiving), mfm, teasing

Steve can’t help but watch. He’s not really jealous either, no matter how hard he’s trying to convince himself that he is and that’s the reason why he’s feeling like a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

Sweat beads at his tailbone as his eyes devour the way you arch into Javier's mouth, the way you thumb your hard nipples as his tongue slides deeper and deeper with every hungry lick. He’s not a man of art, he doesn’t paint or write or do anything really but this—this right here makes him think of every sculpture and poem.

Swallowing, he smoothes his palm over your thigh, pushing it up until he reaches your hip, squeezing it. Javier doesn’t care about his presence at all, his eyes are squeezed shut, his hips grinding into the sheets as he closes his lips around the sensitive nub. Steve shudders at the way you moan, chest heaving up and your breasts spilling from between your fingers. His cock drips at the sight. He takes a hold of one of your hands, pushing it away, he replaces it with his own much larger hand.

Your eyes flutter open, lips parted, you moan again. “Steve—”

Javier scoffs at that, eyes momentarily finding you through the darkness. “I’m the one doing all the work, you should be moaning my name, bonita.”

Sweat glistens across your body, the dirty yellow light filtering from the window giving you an almost heavenly glow. Javier parts away with a string of saliva following, looking up, he presses the length of two fingers and starts to rub at you with precise movements. Your jolt is instant, fingers rounding around Steve’s wrist, you drip all over his fingers and the sheets. You scream out his name this time, which sparks some annoyance in Steve, he’s not a damned prop.

“You need to share,” he grunts, circling the pad of his thumb around your nipple. “You’re acting like a brat, Javi.”

His protests are cut short with your whine cutting through the air like a knife. You claw at his chest, your sopping sex lifting to meet the movements of Javier’s fingers. When you managed to curl your fingers around the slope of his shoulder you pull him down, crashing your mouth with his. He slips his tongue between your lips, he groans into the kiss, hand roughly kneading the flesh of your breast as Javier curls two fingers inside, his mouth once again latched to your clit.

“You worry too much,” Javier rasps wetly. “She wants us both—Plenty of her to go around.”

Your fingers wrap tightly around his weeping cock, the drag of your palm making him growl. In that moment he knows that Javier is right.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #javier x reader x steve #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic

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rowanswriting · 7 months

Note

Here’s a Steve Thot: The first time you give Steve a blowjob he’s lying on his back losing his mind. He’s never had a blowjob like the one you’re giving him right now, it’s spitty and sloppy and messy and you’re giving his balls attention. He’s making these cute little whimpering and groaning sounds and his back is arching of the bed and he can’t even think straight and neither can I now.😩😵‍💫

(Just been in the mood to make Steve sob, ya know?)

DOLLY!!!!! HELP ME! WHAT THE HELL.

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader Smut

tw// smut, ball play, spit, dirty talk, ect. minors fuck away from this or I’ll swing! thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated!

You’re pressing down on his hips to try and hold him in place. It’s no use though, he’s much stronger than you and keeps fucking up into your mouth, causing you to gag around him.

Steve moans like a porn star, it sends shockwaves through your body every time you listen to him. Dirty words slipping out of his mouth almost thoughtlessly, as he lays back, looking like a fucked out mess.

“F-fuck baby, your mouth makes the perfect cock sleeve. It’s so warm and wet, holy shit baby.” He’s whining, pulling your hair into his fist and pushing you as far down as he can get you to go.

At this point he doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the feeling of your throat constricting around him, your lack of oxygen is only a turn on for you as your drool runs down around his shaft, and to his balls.

He loses the sanity he did have left when you wrap your hand around his balls, squeezing them and rubbing them letting your spit coat them. Normally he can last a long time, but as soon as you pay any attention to his balls he’s cumming down your throat, moaning like a feral animal.

#arden’s mail 💌#dolly🎀#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #Steve Harrington x fem!Reader smut

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roanniom · 1 year

Note

so ur eddie smut where he’s sensitive to sounds 😩 could you please do that but with steve? Like he’s sensitive to sound & when you make specific sounds 👀 he goes crazy?

So I did write a Steve sensitivity fic here, but yeah I love that idea.

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Like there’s a certain spot that only he can hit inside you that has you whimpering. And there’s just a certain whimper that makes him go fucking feral.

“You can’t make that sound, baby. We just started, come on!” he pants, holding himself still over you and stopping his thrusts. You wrap your legs around him and try to pull him back in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Just feels so good, Stevie,” you moan pathetically. Steve groans.

“I know, I know. You just…fuck. If you make those noises I’m gonna…” Steve looks down at you, embarrassed. “I’m gonna cum and this is gonna be over way before I want it to be.”

You grin up at him and pull him down to kiss all over his jaw and neck.

“That’s ok. In fact I want that to happen,” you whisper in his ear, just as you dig your heels into his back to encourage him to start thrusting again. You let out a thrilled squeal when he finally obliges. “It’ll be hot. And then I can just work on making you hard again.”

That last statement causes his hips to buck hard into you, hitting that delicious spot once more and making that dreaded, perfect sound again.

He doesn’t last long after that ♥️

#issa’s writing travel day #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut

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love-toxin · 1 year

Note

Okay but Eddie being the babysitter for you and Steve! And getting thrown into the family because the two of you cannot keep your hands off of him. And he loves the love

ehe <33 i went a lil feral <333

cws: dilf!steve + milf!sunday school teacher!angelface, babysitter!eddie, age gap (38-40, and 22), fears of infidelity (but its resolved), masturbation, pillow humping, (a+v) fingering, throat fucking, ball worship, rimming, assplay, scent kink, angel has a cum kink, threesome, voyeurism, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praise kink, sub!eddie, dom!steve, switch!angel, fem reader.

word count: 8.8k (90% smut)

Edward is so, so cute.

You noticed his look at first--the aesthetic he's got going on is really quite something, with the ripped jeans, and the hair, and the....the rings on those long, thick fingers. He was a little off-putting at first because he wasn't transparently shy, more blunt than anything else as he introduced himself. He's not like some of the other young girls and boys you and your husband had sifted through, almost all of them preppy young teenagers or prepubescent middle schoolers looking for a crack at their first job.

Edward--Eddie, is a little older than that. Which some might find strange or untrustworthy, but he's only around twenty-two, so still young. They would find him uncouth for many other reasons anyways, so it's not really a bother--you and Steve wanted someone older, someone more mature and hopefully more responsible anyways, because you've been looking for a long-term sitter and the high schoolers you picked before....oh, Steve was not happy when you came home early and found them throwing a party in your house, while your son was fast asleep in his room.

On the other hand, your check-ins with Eddie over the last few months have been stellar. Not only has he managed to follow all your rules, but your son absolutely adores him. It's hard enough at your respective ages, with you at 38 and Steve hitting 40 this year, to wrangle a seven-year-old with his own agenda. But Casey has taken to Eddie like a bee to honey and he seems to have no trouble getting him through his daily routines. Toothbrushing, bedtime, and eating vegetables is like a dream when it's in Eddie's hands--the kid thinks he's a god, and Eddie's so thrilled whenever he can talk to your son about his hobbies, so it's a match made in heaven. He's even started reading The Hobbit to him before bedtime, and you can see the joy on Steve's face whenever his son climbs up into his lap and starts excitedly chattering to him about orcs, and dwarves, and dragons, and whatever else tickles his fancy. You're sure it's because he reminds him of Dustin in those moments, and it's just so sweet.

Of course, a couple moms and older ladies at your church meetings had expressed worry at first, discontent even with your choice of caretaker, but you've been quite happy to report nothing but solid results out of the young man over the last few months. Casey's even taken to asking if Eddie can come over and play when you're at home--"Mommy, call Eddie! You and daddy hafta go out, I wanna play dragons!"--so you would think their minds would quickly be changed. But not so.

"He's a fan of that heavy metal music, he can't be good with kids. What if he indoctrinates your son, or converts him? Besides, he deals drugs! You can't ignore that."

Their criticisms fly over your head with nothing to hold them down, and while the drugs do worry you a bit, you have nothing but pure faith in Eddie to keep any of those habits out of your house. He never even smells of smoke when he comes to babysit, and the one time you did catch a whiff of cigarettes when Steve called him in last minute, he apologized and offered to change his clothes as soon as he spotted your nose crinkling up. Such a sweet boy, how could you even try to be upset? Steve lent him an old polo and jeans, and the two of you got a good chuckle before you left at watching him shimmy around in those clothes that were so not his style. But he committed to it because he's just....Eddie. That's just how he is.

And you're not sure when you started thinking of him that way, as Eddie, and not just as your babysitter, but it certainly hasn't gone away on its own. At first it was just a fancy, a cheeky "oh, isn't he cute? I bet the girls love that hair." that you've heard from all manner of female gossip. Even being a Sunday school teacher you aren't immune to it, so you figured that fluttering of your heart when he calls you "Mrs. Harrington" would go away with time.

But it hasn't. And the fear has been growing--what's wrong with you, you've wondered? You've been with Steve for years, and not once have you ever been charmed by someone other than your husband, not to the extent of thinking about them when you're with him. Steve's always been the love of your life since you were eighteen, so what could have possibly changed in all those years? Is it a midlife crisis? Or are you just a terrible person for thinking about another man, a younger man, while you're next to your husband in bed?

It isn't until you start noticing things about Steve that you realize that you might not be the only one, and that it might not be just a you problem. At first it's subtle, a "Hey Eddie, you wanna stay for a drink?" after Casey's gone to bed and you've both arrived home from your date. Then you notice the looks he's giving him--the long, lingering stares when Eddie laughs or flips his hair over his shoulder, sometimes a flicker of a look when he bends over. And soon after that, you notice that he's getting further from Eddie. Steve's buying you more gifts, and your sex life ramps up dramatically; you go from two or three times a week to every night, Steve moaning into your ear that he loves you, he loves you so much, and that worries you even more. By then, has he already strayed? Are you watching his guilt unfold after he's broken the vows of your marriage?

Clearly that's not the case when you get some time alone with Eddie, though. It's quite obvious that he has no earthly idea of your feelings or of Steve's, and there isn't a single clue of some kind of secret affair that you can find. In some ways, you feel a little stupid for searching for one in the first place, because maybe you're just projecting your own guilt on to your poor, sweet husband.

That is until you catch Steve in the shower late at night, jerking off and moaning Eddie's name into his hand. If that isn't a tell, literally nothing could be. But it's a fortunate affair if not incredibly humiliating and shameful for your husband in the moment, shock and pain clear in his eyes when you pull the curtain back and catch him red-handed. It's adorable actually, seeing him so guilty and apologetic as he tries to tell you how much he loves you, and how he's so ashamed of himself but he doesn't know what to do--he certainly wasn't expecting you to admit your own feelings, nor for that humiliation to turn into lust as he pinned you to the shower wall and didn't let you down until the water ran cold.

After that, you came to a crossroads, and you both had to be honest with yourselves. Should you let him go? You both knew how desperately he needed the money, and you were sure it would devastate Casey not to have him around anymore, but how ethical would it be to be paying someone you both want to sleep with? What if your feelings leaked out and Eddie felt pressured to stay, or worse, felt he couldn't leave because of the money? It's such a difficult decision that you just had to leave it for a while, too wrapped up in your emotions to make a proper choice--you both just decided to keep things hidden for now, at least until you can find a better solution than firing him out of the blue for reasons beyond his control.

It doesn't stay that way, though. It certainly doesn't. Because now, you're living day to day with Eddie on your mind, and tonight's the night that you're not so sure it's completely one-sided anymore.

It's just barely past two am, and your key clicks so quietly in the lock that even you can barely hear it. You and Steve have been off on a couple's vacation for the weekend, but contrary to what you were hoping, you're both feeling more exhausted than refreshed. First, the hotel you'd booked months in advance had sold your room out from under you, and you were forced to find a much cheaper, much dingier one to sleep in at the last minute. Then Steve had his wallet stolen, and you spent the better part of your first vacation day calling people and looking around the resort for it. Then some drunk guy at the restaurant Steve had proposed to you in started harassing you, and the two of you were kicked out for Steve's less than delicate way of handling the situation, which was to clock the douchebag in the face after he called you a whore. And now you've just spent hours in traffic trying to get home early, so when you stumble into the front hallway of your home and kick your shoes off, you're so grateful you're ready to head right to bed and pass out.

"Hey, let's go tell Eddie he can go home, first." Steve whispers with a hand on your shoulder, aware and cautious of the fact that your son is definitely sleeping at this time of night. To top it all off, Eddie had called that first evening to tell you that your son had a fever and wasn't feeling well, as if your luck wasn't bad enough already.

"Let's pay him for the whole night, though. Give him a good tip for cleaning up Casey's puke."

"Of course. Aren't you so generous, Mrs. Harrington?" He chuckles, and with his loafers kicked off, he leans down and sweeps you right off your feet like you weigh nothing, and hurries on light feet up the stairs as if you're a bride again and he's rushing to toss you into your marriage bed. You pass by Casey's room and hear nothing, and Steve only lets you down when you reach the other side of the hall where the corner is, to peek into the guest bedroom that you've designated for Eddie. But when you do, and even when you flip on the light, you realize right away that he's not there--there's not even an inkling of a lump under the covers, which immediately flips your mind to worry after you've been on edge for the last three days. A reassurance is just about to fly off Steve's lips over your shoulder, something about how he might've gone for a walk, because his van was still parked in your driveway when you pulled in.

But as soon as you step back and pull the door closed, you hear it. Down the second hallway at the very end, where the master bedroom sits with the door firmly shut.

"Fuck..."

Your eyes both widen, and you share a look with your brown-eyed husband that screams pure shock. That was definitely Eddie. And that was absolutely, indisputably, without a doubt a moan.

Neither of you say a word, you're too nervous to even breathe, but Steve's features twist with anger before he can counteract it. You can both deal with your feelings about Eddie later, but having a stranger in your house while you're gone, and having sex? That's absolutely disrespectful, and you get why your husband is so flustered and stiff as he stalks down the hall towards the cream-coloured door. You follow close behind, like a rabbit on soft paws as you hurry to huddle up behind him--but just as he's grit his teeth and got his hand on the doorknob, you hear something else.

"Fuck...Mr. Harrington-"

His voice lilts, trills up to get a little louder, before his noises are muffled again--he must have clamped a hand over his mouth, but you're too caught up with the fact that your babysitter just moaned your husband's name. You can be sure now that your suspicions were wrong and that there isn't someone in there with him, because it's only his ragged breathing on the other side of the door....and you can hear the hard, sharp shuck shuck shuck of a soft, wet hand gripping the shaft of his cock, just like all those weeks ago when you caught Steve rubbing one out to the thought of Eddie in the same way. Your nails dig into Steve's baby blue golf shirt and it draws his attention down to you, the fury completely evaporated into a hot, red flush burning across his face.

In those strained few seconds, it's not your husband that opens the door. You reach past him and graze his hand as you do it yourself, carefully turning the knob and pushing it forward slowly enough that it doesn't make a sound. Relief washes over you.

Because otherwise, you wouldn't have got to see what's waiting for you in your own bed. Eddie's Iron Maiden t-shirt is rucked up, his pants and boxers in a heap on the floor, and he's hunched over your bed with one hand gripping something beneath him. You peek a little closer, and see that it's your pillow--your pillow, the one that lays on your side, pinned between his hairy thighs and cushioning his hard, rosy-tipped cock that's absolutely drenched in what you can only guess is his own spit and lube. There's clearly a big, damp patch on the dark blue fabric just beneath him, where you can see his balls squishing up against it every time he rocks into it, and...fuck. If you knew how often he had done this, you would've started humping your own pillow a lot sooner.

"Mr. Harrington, fuck--fuck, she feels so good..." Now it's your turn to warm up, Steve's hair tickling your cheek as he looks over your shoulder with just as much entrancement. You watch with bated breath as Eddie pounds your poor pillow into the bed, the hand he was muffling himself with finally spared to reach behind him and slowly work its way down--and you can't miss how slick his fingers are, his hips stopping for a moment or two so he can find the spot he's looking for. "S'gonna be okay, I can take it, I know you're big, I can take it,"

That cute, taut little rim slides open easily with the lube, but Eddie still moans and his hips kick up on instinct when he pushes a finger inside. It isn't until he starts bucking again that you finally notice the hand sliding down your ass, and your squeak of shock gets smothered by your husband's other hand as he claps it over your face, murmuring so quietly into your ear not to move as his fingers travel further. The flimsy sundress he convinced you to wear is obviously coming in handy for him, because your panties move easily and in moments, he's got two huge, hot fingers buried inside your cunt and your slick dripping all over his wrist.

"M-Mrs. Harrington--please, please let me cum, I'll be so good-" Eddie pants, completely oblivious to the squirming woman in the doorway and her husband's pants tenting as his cock strains for warmth. "I-I'll never cum in your panties again, I promise! I'll save all my cum for your pussy,"

You choke at that, and you're yanked back into your husband's chest with a hush and a stiff prodding into your lower back. Eddie's so far gone he doesn't notice though, and fortunate for you, because with Steve rubbing your clit as you listen to him call you baby you really aren't going to last long. Especially not when you can see when he hits his own hot spot inside, and buckles like he's just been shot, his face planting square into the sheets as he keeps working his fingers and humping your pillow with his cock leaking everywhere. He's close, so close, and so are you.

"Harder, please, you can be rough with me--you like it when I fuck her, Mr. Harrington? Like when I make your wife cum for me?" Steve only gets deeper, his tongue on your ear as he curls his fingers into that spot that blinds you with hot, white pleasure, and doesn't dare to stop right up until you're so hot it's burning--and then, when Eddie mumbles that next line to himself, it's the one that throws you right over the edge into ecstasy.

"Bet you and your wife love watching me rub one out, dontcha Mr. Harrington?"

He turns his head over his shoulder just in time to watch you crumble in your husband's strong arms, feet scrabbling for purchase on the hardwood as Steve fingers you right through your leg-shaking orgasm--and while you're writhing and whimpering into his hand, you're soaking the floor beneath you with enough clear, slick cum to run a mop clean through.

Eddie knew. Even if he was just guessing, he was definitely doing it for real--and while your head is still floaty and your body still reeling from cumming, Steve pulls his hand away from your cunt and locks the door behind him with the other, pushing you ahead to collapse into your bed next to Eddie. You can smell him, smell that hot musk of sweat and manly aroma, and if you weren't still trembling your mouth would be on his balls right now.

"About time I got to show you my nightly routine, Mrs. Harrington." He sighs, a content smile on his face despite the circumstances. He pulls the pillow out from under him and sets it next to you--and somehow he looks a little surprised when you grab it, and plunge your face into the exact spot where he'd been rubbing his cock all over it. Warm, wet, smelling of him....you flick your tongue out for a taste, and you're even happier to find that it's just as delicious as you imagined.

"Is this a joke?"

"You think I'd risk my best source of income for a joke?"

"Just checking. So you're a pervert." You feel the weight of Steve's body sinking the end of the mattress as he interrogates him, and when you pull the pillow away from your face, you're delighted to see that Eddie's sitting back with a flustered grin as your husband looms over him. Looks a lot more excited than scared, for sure.

"Only in the good way! Can I-" His hand grazes his cock, but Steve grabs his wrist and yanks it away. The other one, the one you know he was using to finger himself, gets grabbed too--but Steve brings those fingers to his lips, and slowly, intently sucks each one into his mouth without breaking their shared gaze. It's not until the last one gets sucked out with a pop that he finally makes his demands.

"Head over the bed. Lay on your back. Honey, can you give me a hand?" His voice turns so sweet when he talks to you, his soft eyes transfixed on the way you glide over the bed with ease. Eddie does exactly as he's told, and turns himself around so he's laid back with his head hanging off the edge, his curls reaching so far they nearly brush the floor. His fingers tremble and dig into the sheets when you get on top of him, but you don't straddle his cock and he whines. He won't have much room to do that again, though, not after you're finished unbuckling your husband's belt and coaxing that third leg he's hiding out from his underwear. He's already left a wet patch in the gray fabric, much like the one Eddie left on your pillow--you're just flush with gifts it seems, including the reward of watching your husband's cock bob out with that dark, flustered tip that stares you both in the face. Eddie sighs in awe, watching from his place with big, bright eyes, and licks his lips hungrily without knowing what's gonna come next.

"I'm not stopping if you gag. But if it hurts, hit my thigh." He leans down to whisper that part, and as you shimmy your way back down Eddie's torso to his lap, you smile to yourself. Your husband's a softie, always has been, always will be. As dominant as he is, he's always so sweet and doting when things need to wind down--or wind up.

"I won't," Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing and his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. He's in a trance, almost, watching Steve's cock twitch and hang so heavy for him, both with size and with age.

"I'm not asking you, Edward. I'm telling you. Hit. My. Thigh. You understand that?" Finally, he nods and chimes out a "Yes, sir" although your husband sighs regardless.

"Such a brat. Where do you young people get your attitude from?"

"Oh, honey. You sound like a grump! Cut the poor boy some slack--you're gonna do a good job for my hubby, right?" You speak softly, gently pulling his shirt up his chest until it's bunched around his collarbone. He seems to like that pool of arousal that you're leaking all over his belly, especially while you're perched over his happy trail and soaking his bush with your slick, since he's already trying to hump your bare cunt despite being nowhere close to it.

"Yes, ma'am." He rubs your hip affectionately, breath hitching as he leans up to watch you balance on your knees and angle yourself over him, to finally start letting his cock breach your slippery folds. "Y-You want a condom, Mrs. H?"

"No. This'll be a lesson in responsibility. You get my wife pregnant, you'll have to deal with it." Eddie looks back at him in shock, but he doesn't say a word. If anything, it shifts more towards excitement as he waits for you to move--and when you do, when you finally start sinking down on that pretty, girthy cock, Eddie cries out and writhes and grabs your waist for stability but he can't make you stop. You're too wet to try, and the stretch that fills you out when you reach the base....it's not better nor worse than your husband's, but it's different. And you just hope it's as good for Eddie as it is for you.

"How's that feel, sweetheart? Feel okay?" You coo, trying to ignore the delightful scrape of unkempt, wiry hairs against your oversensitive clit. It's even more difficult to keep that pleasure at bay when Eddie's throbbing uncontrollably inside you, and your husband is sweetly, tentatively stroking himself off over Eddie's head as he watches the show.

"F-Fuck my mouth, Mr. H," He suddenly pipes up, reaching back to grab Steve's hips and tug him closer, so his cock is barely a centimetre off his face. "Shut me up before I say something--s-stupid!"

Whatever he's thinking about saying, Steve obviously has the patience to wait to hear it--because he wastes no time in pulling back and aligning his tip with Eddie's parted lips, one hand guiding himself and the other holding his jaw to keep him open as he slowly, carefully works himself inside. Every time Eddie jolts, your hips buck and it stimulates him even more, every inch sinking deeper and deeper until he's whimpering around the obvious bulge of Steve's cock nestled in his throat. It's such a pretty sight, his chest heaving for air and his nose nudging at Steve's heavy balls, spit trailing from his straining lips up his face--and Eddie's taking it so well, you can tell even Steve is pleased to see how trained his throat is to take him already.

"You practiced, huh? You were a good boy and practiced for me?" Eddie's eyes roll back into his head at the praise, and the thought of lazily stroking your clit in the interim is blasted away when he starts throwing his hips into a harsh rhythm. Like he's suddenly been possessed by his own lust, Eddie fucks into you with wild and reckless abandon, and doesn't bother trying to muffle his own choking and gagging noises as Steve starts humping his mouth in tandem. "You like being praised? You want more? Then make me cum."

You can tell by the sounds and the humming from Eddie that he would absolutely be running his mouth if he could, although it dies down into whines and deep, rumbly moans as you ride him harder and pay no mind to how he's losing steam. Honestly, you are too, even though the feeling is just indescribable--so you compromise by laying yourself down on his chest, tits squished up against his pecs and your hips laid flat for easier access, plus an opportunity for Eddie to bring his hands up and grab tight fistfuls of your ass that seem to spur his thrusts on even more. Having yourselves lined up only a few centimetres apart doesn't take away from the adrenaline at all--it just gives him an easier time of rapid-fire bucking into you like two rabbits in mating season.

On the other hand, Steve is taking zero liberties with him. He huffs and reminds him of the stopping rule even though he's in the midst of pummeling his poor throat into oblivion, but when he pulls completely out to allow him some breathing room, Eddie's sticky, flushed face twists with want and he sticks that pretty pink tongue out to coax him back inside. Clearly he's victorious in that sense--Steve's balls smush right up against his nose as he slides back in, tightening up against him when Eddie makes a loud show of slurping him up like he's some kind of dessert. His poor adam's apple is being abused with every dip into his throat though, and with a hazy giggle, you reach up and lick that spot that keeps showing the outline of your husband's cock--and you don't expect him to push down on the back of your head to shove you into it, Eddie squealing and panting with pleasure at the strange sensation of you sucking on your husband's dick through his own flesh.

"So fucking good," Steve pants, breaking his no cursing rule for the moment to look down on you both with reverence. "Sucking me off so good. My angels, you look so pretty down there."

He tugs you back up by the hair, peering around you to watch the mesmerizing jiggle of your ass as Eddie grinds into you and smirking at the sight. Now both of your faces are smeared with your own saliva, and he happily gives you more as he spits into your slackened mouth and watches it dribble down your chin to splatter against Eddie's flushed skin.

"Such a fucking soft tongue too, christ," Your husband groans, drawing your attention back to the pretty boy beneath you that's spasming and choking back on him. "Want me to pay you to warm my balls for me? Bet you'd do it for free. Just wanna have em in your mouth no matter what."

Just for show, he manages to extract himself from those warm, wet confines and moves his hips a little higher, so his musky scent overwhelms your babysitter's face as he rests his sack right on his panting lips. Eddie's honestly so admirable--he doesn't waste any time in sucking on them, his tongue flicking out to taste each one before he pulls them into his mouth independently. If you weren't married, you'd be worried that he'd show you up for Steve's affections, but your husband clearly knows his priorities as he pulls you up to kiss you firmly on the lips. You can taste each other's sweat on your tongues, and when he moves back his hand shifts to cup your chin with a smile and an affectionate rub. And just like that, he snaps back into dominant mode.

"I'd pay you to creampie this tight little throat too, but you're gonna take it anyways cause you're such a dirty boy for me." A shudder runs through him as Eddie moans around his balls, contently devouring them with his tongue and totally lost in the taste of his musk and sweat from the long day--you can definitely relate to that feeling, because something about Steve's smell just makes him irresistible. His treat is soon pulled away with a grunt, but he's not left wanting for very long when you watch Steve stuff himself right back down his throat, like he's returning to where he belongs. The show is gearing up for its finale and you're pretty glad that Steve's already made a mess of you once, because it's been easier to stave off the next orgasm that you know is coming soon--just as long as Eddie keeps rolling his hips into you like a mindless, youthfully horny sex machine. "And you're gonna get my sloppy seconds when you blow your load in my wife. Gonna make you lick it all up and--and get her all clean for me to breed agai-nnnnh, fuck, fuck!"

Steve's dirty thoughts taper off into throaty, husky moans, his hands coming down hard to pin Eddie's shoulders to the bed so he can't squirm off--but if anything he's edging closer, squeaking and humming with moans as Steve loses his composure and brutalizes that poor, pretty neck as he chases the last few seconds of orgasm. Just to top it off, you make sure to grind your hips down against Eddie to meet his thrusts as he does so, crooning out praise after praise when he digs his nails into your waist and shakes with boundless pleasure as Steve floods his belly with cum straight from the source. If he's trying not to cum in you, he's gonna lose--and now you're close enough that you don't care, you just want it, you're losing yourself in the fantasy of being a cumdump just like Steve's always entertaining for you. When you're so close you can feel it coming on too hard to stop it, and your husband pulls out with little regard to the streams of cum that spurt out and paint Eddie's beet-red face, tilting his head up so they can both watch you come apart on top of him. His honey-brown doe eyes widen with awe as he watches you use him for your own pleasure, unashamedly grinding your clit into his bush to get that delicious pleasure you crave--and with Steve's encouragement, "C'mon honey, show Eddie how pretty you look when you cum" the room blots out and you witness nothing but Eddie's concaving stomach as you push him into his own orgasm.

It's hard to tell where you start and Eddie ends, whose fluids are churning up inside you and spilling all over his lap like a man-made puddle, but nothing in those moments matter. All that matters is the rolling waves of tingling ecstasy that wash over you one at a time, accompanied by the feeling of Eddie's nuts clenched up against your ass as your pussy pulses and milks him of all he has to spare. You're really unsure now of what you just did, but the glory that spreads through you as you come down makes it all feel hazy and good--doesn't really matter as long as this feeling lasts, even if it's just the heat of Eddie's body beneath you as you collapse and nuzzle deeper into his chest.

"Mrs. H..." He finally pants in a hoarse voice, sucking back whatever's left sticking to his mouth and trailing a hand up to rest it on your lower back. "Can't see straight...fucked me too good..."

You bury your grin in his collar, dazedly tracing circles in his shoulder as you readjust to your surroundings. When you finally manage to lift your head, you're met with your husband's groin--he's in the midst of pulling up his pants, but he pauses when he sees you eyeing him. Mostly focused on his heavy, hanging cock between his legs, still smeared with cum and spit and sweat...and although it's usually a toss up of whether he thinks you're too tired to do it or not, he doesn't interrupt and even moves closer when you reach out to touch it, and you lick a long stripe from tip to base to start polishing him off.

"Good girl...love it when you clean my cock for me. Always so gentle, huh? Ssh-" He hisses suddenly as you prop him up and suck the soft tip into your mouth, the globs of cum that threatened to fall getting licked up as you ease every last spurt of seed out of him. His hands brace your head but don't move, though you can't quite reach all the way--but when you start sliding off Eddie's cock to stretch closer and move further down on your husband's, he whimpers with sensitivity and watches with a keen eye as his cum drools out of your cunt like a faucet. You just wanna get close enough, forcing down each inch that's much easier to swallow when he's soft. When you've got the shaft all clean, though, you can get to what lies underneath, and sweetly lap at the sticky mess off your husband's balls until you've polished his skin and groomed every thatch of thick, dark hair he's got. "That's my girl. Givin' em such nice attention, yeah? You know they're yours."

Only when you're good and ready does he finally pull you off, a chuckle rising out of him when you sink back into the man underneath you--and unintentionally smother him with your tits in the process, your velvety skin falling victim to his teeth as he starts mawing at each round, soft globe of flesh. He buckles himself up and bends down to peck you on the lips, murmuring that he's gonna get some towels and go check on Casey, and makes sure to scritch the top of Eddie's frizzy head as a gesture of affection before he slips out the door and shuts it. As soon as he's gone, it gets too quiet.

"What were you gonna say earlier, Eddie?" You sit back so he can have some room to breathe, shuffling down so you can sit on the relatively clean sheets and lean back against the headboard. He follows close behind though and cuddles up in your embrace, his arms loosely hung around your waist while he rubs his cheek against you. He's unusually quiet too, breathing softly against the bare skin of your chest without a word to fill the silence.

"I....was gonna tell you I love you, Mrs. H. And I love Steve. And I love that crazy little squirt of yours. And...you make me feel like I belong. That's, uh...what I was gonna say. Stupid, right?" He jokes, but he doesn't laugh honestly. The playfulness fades away as fast as a heartbeat, and you can tell by his clinginess and the way he squeezes you tighter when you stroke his hair. The poor thing is incredibly lonely, although you've sensed that from the start.

"That's not stupid at all, darling. You know Casey idolizes you, you're practically another father to him. And Steve and I, we've loved you for a long time. We just...we were afraid we were pressuring you into a life you didn't want."

Somehow it's more nerve-wracking to say those few words out loud than it was to come on to him in the first place, but it isn't your first run around the track. You know that true feelings are much harder to be honest about, even when the person they regard is cuddled up next to you in the nude.

"No! No, never! You've been so good to me, I never...I've never been treated so well. You always made me feel safe." He sits up to look you in the eyes, his voice unusually level and mature as he keeps going. "You make me feel like I'm part of the family. Like I have a family. I mean, I do, but...my uncle needs his space, and so do I. I've mooched off him long enough. Although I guess I'm just mooching off you guys, now..."

He rubs at his arms, tentatively reaching behind his head to pull his shirt completely off and dump it with his other clothes. But he looks so dejected, depressed, like he's expecting you to realize that he is a mooch and throw him out of your house. His eyes flutter back up to you when you touch his cheek, however, and he listens intently as you spill out your heart-to-heart.

"You are part of our family. Our home is your home. You're not mooching off us if we're asking you to stay--you never have to, but you're always welcome here. We can't get enough of you." You shrug your shoulders, offering a sincere smile that he returns--and soon it turns to giggling, the high leaving you both bubbly and floaty like you just got done smoking a joint. For a moment or two you don't feel like you've got a ten plus year age gap, but that you're both young and foolish and passionate like you've always been at heart.

"....I was also gonna tell you you have the tightest pussy I've ever felt, holy mother of Ozzy-" He sighs dreamily, and you swat at his arm with an "oh, stop it", but his smirk doesn't fade. "Seriously. Thought you were gonna choke me out. I can't believe you're a mom...you've got a better body than I've ever seen in a magazine. No wonder Steve's such a monster in bed."

"I think you're underselling yourself, sweetie." You coo, leaning in close so he can practically taste the last hints of your perfume. "I wouldn't feel so tight if you weren't so beautifully endowed." You reach down and grope his soft, yet still slick cock, and watch his expression twist with open-mouthed awe and pleasure as you stroke it in your hand. Watching it twitch like crazy in your palm stirs something up in you, and your belly knots itself up as Eddie grows harder and harder under your touch. He's still so sticky--you reach underneath with your other hand and giggle as he gasps, and you're right, even his balls are all messy too. Now that you've got a grip you can feel the heft of them, full of that thick, creamy stuff that drives you crazy, and your fingers weave through the matted patches of hair to feel every curve and give them a squeeze to gauge how much you've got to work with.

"Never woulda thought the sunday school teacher'd have a kink like that," He mumbles, but it's a tease, his lips curving up into a smile as he hovers his hand between your own legs and presses his fingers into your clit--and, just like he hoped, he draws a whine and another squeeze out of you. "Now, you know I desperately wanna lick the cum out of you, and I know you're just dying to get your tongue on my nuts,"

He leans into a whisper, rubbing your soft little button harder so you have to clench to keep all that mess inside. "So why not sit on my face? And I'll give this pretty pussy so many kisses, just like she deserves..." He keeps leaning further, boldly brushing his lips against yours until you close the distance for a kiss--and it's so cute how smug he looks when he pulls away, totally unaware of the side you've been keeping down that you usually save for your husband's worst, most tiring days, when he needs someone else to take control.

"Lay back, sweetie." You charm him with glittery eyes, watching intently as he pulls his fingers away and sucks them clean of your arousal before he follows your order--but instead of climbing on top at once, you reach beneath yourself and plunge your fingers inside, swirling them up with a thick coating of sloppy cum that you transfer to him....but not where he would've expected. You watch his expressions as he sits up and sees what you're doing, circling that tight rim that's exposed to you now at this angle. If he wants you to stop, you're sure he'll say something, especially when you meet his gaze and slowly ease your slick finger inside him.

But he doesn't speak up, doesn't shake his head, doesn't push you away--Eddie just watches, legs shaking as he spreads them wider and fists clenching against the sheets when you dip your head down between them. Seeing his hole swallow up your finger so eagerly is cute, especially with those tantalizing balls heaving just above it and clenching when you curl your knuckles, searching for that spot to hook into that's gonna make his cock spurt all over his belly. He takes it well, he's clean, and he's tight. You can't help but think that Stevie's gonna adore this--and when you lave little kitten licks over his rim, getting a taste of that bitter sweat and cum off your hand, and his hips jump with a jolt of pleasure? It's so sweet you could just die. Your hair shifts suddenly and you feel a warmth on your scalp, though you don't peek up until you've wiggled the tip of your tongue against his hole a little more. But when you do, you're pleased to see Eddie hunched over you and his hand on your head, bottom lip pinned between his teeth as he strokes you devotedly.

"L..Love it when you do that..."

"Do what?" You tease, working your finger slowly back and forth as you wait for an answer, and planting a wet kiss on his sack when he takes too long and has to groan it out.

"F-Finger me. Love it when you finger me, and...u-use your tongue, and stuff...s'gross, but it feels..." A sigh makes its way out of him, long and whiny when you press another finger in alongside the first, and spread them both out. You can catch a glimpse of some pearly shimmers of his own cum when you do, getting creamier when you churn them around with your curious fingers. "Feels incredible. No girl'd ever do this for me...they'd think I was crazy-"

"That's why I'm a woman, Edward. Stevie likes it too." You work on searching for that spot again, letting a glob of spit shoot out on to his rim to massage it in and lube him up a little more, which he seriously seems to like--or at least his cock does, because it twitches and bounces at full stiffness now, completely erect and needy and leaking already.

"You do this to Steve?" He asks in a hushed whisper, eyes big and shocked. He's probably imagining it....oh, he's clenching so hard, he's definitely thinking about it.

"All the time. I'll eat him out in the shower after work," You grin, having clearly caught his rapt attention, and test his resilience by making use of your other hand to massage his balls as you talk. "And he'll moan, and moan, and moan. So shy about it, but as soon as my tongue's inside him he forgets it all. Whimpers like a little princess."

Eddie throws his head back, adam's apple bobbing to and fro as he swallows down his cries. It's a lot harder to do when you start holding his rim open and sticking your tongue inside, only allowing him a moment or two of mind-bending pleasure before you pull back and leave him gaping and empty.

"I-I'd watch that," He finally pipes up, trying desperately to cling to his confidence. You really can't wait until he drops the act entirely, and gets to the point that he's grinding into your mouth and begging Mrs. Harrington to eat him out.

"And you'd rub yourself raw to it, wouldn't you? Then you'd beg me to do it to you, too."

"Mh-!" He squeaks and his head cranks back down to watch you lap at his hole, the hand on your head now clasped over his mouth because he can't go without seeing you work for a second longer. But he nods his head frantically in agreement, and that's when you finally tug your fingers out and use them to push his cheeks completely apart--because you reward honest boys, and it takes a lot for a nice boy like him to admit he enjoys having a woman of the church's tongue up his asshole.

"...That's how I found out Steve liked you, Eddie. He was touching himself in the shower, moaning your name." With a grin that's gonna haunt his wet dreams for the rest of his life, you tease his newly-empty hole with the tip of your tongue and let it wriggle there, testing his reactions and the sounds muffled by him biting his index finger out of desperation. The tears glistening in his eyes make him look so pretty, the embarrassment and shyness something you can enjoy now because it won't last--and you plunge your tongue inside him, completely bypassing any resistance he might have had that's now been loosened by your efforts.

"Shit! No, fuck, that's so fucking hot, fuck-!" He grunts, playing with his own cock like he's not really trying to make himself cum--he just wants it out of the way so he can watch you bury your face in his ass. His balls sit high on your face and they're so much heftier when they're spilling over you, swollen and soft and smelling so manly. It's like a dream, a beautiful, sexy dream, and with how floaty your head is right now you're not altogether sure it isn't a dream. The determined and near-feral manner in which you're tongue-fucking your babysitter could very well be something you've just concocted in your mind and gotten too involved in....but the fingers digging painfully into your scalp feel a bit too real, and so does the chuckling that vibrates through your mouth and up his spine as you feel Eddie squeeze his tight ring around your tongue. A knowing smirk makes way for your lips to seal around him, to suck the incredibly sensitive skin that you've teased into vulnerability, and with that one motion you get exactly what you wanted.

"No, no no no no! Fuck, fuck, cumming, cumming!" You've never heard Eddie so needy, voice nasally and high-pitched like he's in pain, but it's the complete opposite. Once he starts humping your face, he can't stop, and he rides your tongue so hard and for so many harsh thrusts you nearly believe he's not gonna let you pull it out. But he does, once his poor, weeping cock finishes spitting another load all over your hair and his belly, and he drains his balls so dry they tighten up and then flatten until they're completely soft. Only then do you manage to extract yourself and sit up, tongue lolling out your mouth as you heave and gasp for air as if you'd just dunked your head underwater.

And Eddie's done when you come up. He falls back and lets his back hit the bed, chest rising and falling hard enough for you to watch him take each breath. You nudge his knees apart to take a peek, and while his cock is limp and still twitching with a spurt here and there, his hole is flushed and spasming with the aftershocks. It's gaping just wide enough to wink every now and then, and you're sure you can call that a job well done. If only you could take a picture to save it forever.

"It's me," Timing as perfect as always, the door clicks open and your husband pokes his head in, a bundle of towels under his arm and a glass of water he stretches to hand you before he shuts it with his foot. "Wore him out, I see."

"Yeah, we had fun. Casey?" Steve slides in beside you, dropping the towels in front of him and throwing one over Eddie's sticky chest, before tugging his polo off for the first and last time tonight to toss it to the floor.

"Sleeping like a baby. Saw his cup in the sink, Eddie gave him his medicine--he won't wake up for awhile." He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, but you redirect him with your hand on his chin to plant another on his lips--and you know he knows exactly what you got up to when your tongue slithers into his mouth, and he hums at the overwhelming taste of Eddie that you pass on before you pull off with a loud, wet smack.

"Aw, well done! Poor thing hates the stuff, I'm proud of you." You rub Eddie's knee that's collapsed into the bed, feeling smug and proud of yourself at wearing out someone more than ten years younger before you've run out of steam yourself.

Maybe it's cause you've just had to keep up with Steve, who's been a stallion ever since he was fucking you in the backseat of his BMW at the drive-in movies after graduation. You'll never forget the time he made you cum so hard you squirted on one of those dates, and had to throw his jacket over your lap to cover your soaked skirt when he dropped you off at home....and how he came right back the next morning with a handful of roses, asking bashfully if you would be his girlfriend. He's become even more romantic as he's matured--but he's never dropped that insatiable lust for you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"What can I say? Best babysitter ever." Eddie pants, grinning up at both of you with his pearly whites glinting in the low light, although his eyes are half-lidded and he's already starting to doze off. You really did wear him out...but you're looking forward to telling Steve about your rather enlightening conversation.

"I guess we're lucky Casey's not getting up til noon," Steve murmurs quietly as you take a sip and pass the glass to him. "Can't imagine Eddie's gonna have any energy for wrangling our kid at six am after this."

"I don't think any of us will have the energy to get up early." You giggle, falling victim to your husband's firm kisses as soon as he sets the water down on the nightstand, his toned arm coming up to cup your cheek as he moves you to lay back against the pillows. He takes a moment to turn back and grab each of Eddie's deadweight legs--because by his snores, he's already passed out--and move them carefully over so he's laid out on the side of the bed and not splayed out in the middle, but returns right back to your lips as his fingertips graze your sides and send shivers up and down your spine.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Are you sleepy?" You shake your head, feeling a girlish flutter in your heart that takes you right back to those days of your early romance. It's one of the many reasons you still feel such intense love for him, because he reminds you of how happy you were then with every headrush that comes from a kiss, and every time he makes you giggle with a joke or a sweet gesture just like he did when you were dating. "Then I think a certain hot momma I know needs some me time."

"Me time?" He nods, a "mhm" hummed into your lips as he steals another kiss, before planting a firm, squirm-inducing one right at the soft spot of your throat. "What kind of 'me time', may I ask?"

Steve leans close enough to your lips that you're sure he's going in for a deeper kiss--but when he hesitates, your mouth is already parted, and you feel that puff of hot breath on your tongue as he mutters in as low and rumbly a tone as he can get.

"Me 'eating this pretty pussy until my wife cums on my mouth' time. Obviously." He smirks, and flicks his tongue across your bottom lip to hear you moan for him already. Knowing Steve, this is definitely gonna keep Eddie from sleeping soundly in the same room, especially when he's got that look in his eyes. But...at least now, you don't really have to worry about waking the babysitter anymore.

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