Hufflepuff With Slytherin attributes @sunflowerleii - Tumblr Blog

Imagine your husband loving you so much that after completing the mission that saved his life, the first thing he does is put on your wedding ring.

leechonspeeddial

Edward's gaze fixated on the woman across the room.

Bella Swan was dead.

His eyes unmoving, unblinking, while his mind raced. Bella Swan was dead, and he had killed her.

It takes two... a voice inside him said, but he ignored it, shoved it back into the darkness. He already had too many voices intruding his mind. Instead, he stared at the woman and she stared back, eyes red.

He would never see Bella's beautiful brown eyes again; after a hundred years, eternity still felt incomprehensible, smoke scaping the grasp from his shadow. Her soft eyes, like calming pools, now stained red with blood, windows to her soullesness.

She smiled.

He mimicked her, for her sake.

Both Renesmee and Charlie had eyes like the ones Bella Swan used to have. But they were like hers, not hers. Edward was tired of things like her. They were mocking, taunting. An illusion, an allusion, nothing but a reminder to her likeness, not unlike a statue... it wasn't Bella. Not Bella Swan.

He blinked, not out of need but out of habit, and she was now in front of him. She was now faster than anything. She was now not one to trip nor fall. She was now graceful and flawless, perfection incarnate like the rest of them.

She was now a Cullen.

That's what was kissing him now. That's what he'll soon be making love to - because that's all they did now. Better than talking. Better than thinking. Better than confronting reality. Bella Swan was dead and Bella Cullen had stolen her face.

Cullen ripped their clothes, both more expensive than Bella's truck had been. She didn't hold back and neither did he. He could only mourn at the loss of her warmth, the loss of her taste, the loss of her soft skin, and mourn, most of all, the scent that drew him to her.

He was at peace, or a a cruel facsimile of the concept. A purgatory, for his thoughts and his thoughts alone. The other Cullens gave them space in times like this, so Edward was left to contemplate with no one worrying, no one watching.

Bella Swan now only existed in the memories of everyone that had known her. The times only Bella and he had shared, existed in him alone. To Cullen, her interactions were shaped by a hazy cloud, nothing had been real until she opened her eyes thirsty for blood. Her human life had been nothing but the time spent in a womb before she was born as a vampire.

He didn't know her, and yet she was one of them. For eternity, and after.

Perhaps, until death, had a been a warning. Because, beyond death, only a stranger awaits.

jqsmn

season 2 rafe come back to me, i miss you.

incorrectquotesharrypotterv

Y/N: Professor Snape gave me a get better soon card.

Draco: That's sweet. *Says Draco confused*

Y/N: I wasn't sick, they just think I can do better.

Draco: Better about what?

Y/N: Bullying the golden trio

inbred-eater

i miss coke addict rafe i miss coke addict rafe i miss coke addict rafe

coke addict rafe come back to me 😓

bambrinaa

ITS SOMETHING AB SMUTS W RAFE GETTING HEAD LIKE AAUGHHH- please make one with him however you interpret it heheh

cw → mean!rafe (sorry i had to), blow job, deepthroating, face fucking, name calling ౨ৎ

“fuck, just like that.” rafe groaned from above you, thick thighs either side of your head and large frame towering above you. one hand planted in your hair and roughly tugging at the strands, forcing your head to bob faster and faster — other hand scrunching into a fist beside him. you were knelt on the floor, looking up at him through your thick, tear clumped lashes, nails digging into his beefy thigh.

“mhm, ‘just gonna take that dick, huh? yeah? you gonna be a good slut f’me and let me use your throat?” he asked, looking down at you with his half lidded, lust blown eyes. you gargled around him, doing your best to nod as you scraped at his thigh.

“huh? what was that? c’mon, sweetheart. use your words.” he mocked, knowing you couldn’t exactly talk right now. despite that, you pushed your head down until your nose was nuzzled against the neatly trimmed bush of dirty blonde pubes at his base, swallowing around his large cock. he groaned, tossing his head back briefly as his greasy bangs cling to his sweaty forehead.

“‘gonna fuck your face. you want that? bet you would, dirty bitch.” he all but laughed, both hands placing themselves either side of your head and gripping your hair for leverage. he began thrusting his hips forward, angry red tip hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

he watched you, letting out guttural groans and growls, seeing your cheeks damp with tears and your perfect make up smeared, drool dripping down your chin.

but, you still gave him that wide, starry eyed look. it made him scoff.

“you’re such a slut, likin’ this shit.” he wrapped your hair around his wrist, feeling his abdomen tighten. he gave a few more aggressive snaps of his hips before letting out a growl, pushing your head all the way down until you were nose to pelvis.

he shot thick ropes of cum down your throat, the feeling nearly making you gag but you pushed it down. he let out a raspy breath, pulling you from him and letting you breathe for what felt like the first time in years.

you spluttered a cough, lungs burning and throat feeling hoarse. he leant down to you after tucking himself back into his brown khakis, hand going to cup your jaw.

“c’mon, open.” he mumbled, thumb piercing your lips and prying your mouth open like a misbehaving mutt.

you laid your tongue out flat, showing him you swallowed every last drop of his cum. he gave a curt nod, shutting your mouth for you and patting your cheek.

“good girl.”

loserwheelers

sound check

╰ in which... steve gets a little too loud for his own good and learns that his girlfriend finds his lack of volume control incredibly attractive.

| steve harrington x fem!reader

𑣲 warnings : smut, unprotected sex, missionary, established relationship

𑣲 from the author : this is so steve you cannot tell me otherwise!!! i love writing for steve so much

plaugiest-deactivated20260525

all i can think about is mean annoying steve overstimulating reader bc he just. can’t. get. enough.

mean!steve harrington overstimulating his poor girlfriend

something about steve was different tonight— something you couldn’t quite place your finger on. and maybe it was just the hormones talking, too much unregulated testosterone pent up. until the only thing that made sense to him was to release it— release all the pressure, all the heat that drove him absolutely mad onto his precious girlfriend— you.

"f-fuckk, baby." steve throws his head back, rough hands gripping tight around your waist as his fingers dug moon-shaped crescents into the soft flesh of your skin— groaning to the feeling of your warm, velvety walls swallowing around his dick with each mean drag of his hips.

your body rocking back and forth— ass perched up with your face buried in the pillow. he’s feeding your cunt, inch by inch until you’re squirming because it’s just too much. “mm, wait steve!” you’re moaning softly, subconsciously trying to crawl away from how deep he is before his hand cracks down onto the flesh of your ass with a stinging burn as he drags you down by the hips— flush against his pelvis, nuzzling sweet against that spot that makes you go dumb.

“c’mon, princess— you know better than that.” steve rasped, gliding his tongue along his bottom lip with a sinful grin. “and y’know there’s no waitin’.” his voice lowers, playful but full of lust before he’s leaning down to press soft, wet kisses along the spine of your back.

nobodys-s0n

‎✧˚₊‧ frat! steve and his endless need for morning head !

frat! steve harrington is the type of douche to act like he needs a blowjob every single morning to have a good day.

he acts like getting his dick sucked is the best feeling in the world— having you slobber all over his thick dick, your hair all messy in his big hands that he totally doesn’t pull when you suck particularly good, the morning haze of sleep slowly cracking itself off when your lips seal around him and you bop your head up and down.

first thing in the morning, you’ll hear his groggy voice in your ear, his hands running up and down your body, playing with the hem of your leg wear— be it just underwear, sweatpants, or pajama bottoms, he’s playing with it, whispering some needy words about “need your mouth” and “please just suck me off”— all in that tone that drives you up a wall because of how fucking pathetic he sounds.

he needlessly pushes your head down all the way without warning, making you smell his fuckass happy trail and fucking the back of your throat with no care in the world. he loves feeling your hands on his stomach, struggling to get a grounding point as his tip presses against the back of your throat, spit dripping onto his balls and the mattress.

this fucking asshole pouts when he doesn’t get a blowjob in the morning— but he won’t force you to do it, but he will mope.

and maybe get on his own knees and beg you to suck him off in return for whatever you desire that day.

he’ll let you rack up his credit card, he’ll let you doll him up, he’ll let you just laze around the house. he’ll do anything to get your lips on his dick first thing in the morning.

because why have wet dreams about it when he has the real thing right beside him in bed?

click here for main masterlist!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: frat! steve is my favorite because he’s such a fucking asshole but he’s such a whimpering bitch at the same time— like he’s the definition of a switch and I love it. he’s such a little bitch. ALSO WE HIT 2K AS I FINISH THIS SO THANK U SOOOOO FUCKING MUCH. 2000 FOLLOWERS IS INSANE! (a separate post will be sure to come because holy shit!)

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

created by... nobodys-s0n! ™

bruisedsoupp-deactivated2026020

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN

the bottle’s barely stopped spinning when the cheers kick in, all slurred and rowdy from the cheap beer everyone’s been chugging. your heart’s already doing that stupid flip thing, cheeks hot under the dim party lights, and when it points right at you—then steve—oh god, you wanna sink into the floor.

he’s got that grin, the one that’s all teeth and trouble, eyes locking on yours like you’re the only thing in the room worth looking at. he pushes up from the circle, dusts off his jeans casual-like, and extends a hand. “up you go, pretty girl. clock’s ticking.”

you take it ‘cause what else are you gonna do? his palm’s warm, a little rough, and he tugs you close enough that you smell his aftershave mixed with smoke. the closet door swings shut with a soft click, and just like that, it’s you and him in this cramped space, coats brushing your elbows, the faint hum of bass thumping through the walls.

he doesn’t move at first. just stands there, towering, studying you with his head tilted. “y’nervous?” he asks, voice low and teasing, like he already knows.

you nod, swallowing hard. “a little.”

“a little?” he steps in, chest almost touching yours, and backs you up till your shoulders hit the wall. “c’mon, be honest. your pulse is racing, isn’t it? bet i could feel it if i…”

his fingers trail light up your arm, ghosting over your wrist, then pressing right there—two fingers on your pulse point. he chuckles soft. “yeah. thudding like a scared little bunny.”

you bite your lip, not sure what to say. you’ve never been this close to a guy like him—confident, older, the kind who knows exactly what he’s doing. “i’ve… i’ve never done this before,” you whisper.

“done what? seven minutes? or…” his knee nudges gentle between your legs, parting them just a bit, and you gasp quiet. “this?”

“any of it,” you admit.

he groans low in his throat, like that’s the best thing he’s heard all night. “fuck me. y’mean i’m the first one to get you all alone like this? all innocent and untouched?” his hand slides to your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles through your shirt. “m’gonna have fun with you.”

his mouth finds yours then, not rushed—slow, like he’s savoring it. lips soft at first, coaxing yours open, then his tongue slips in, tasting like mint and beer. you whimper without meaning to, hands fisting in his shirt cause you need something to hold onto.

he pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips. “that’s it. just like that. open up for me, baby. let me taste how sweet y’are.”

you do, tentative, your tongue brushing his, and he hums approval, deepening it till you’re dizzy. his free hand creeps under your shirt, palm flat on your bare stomach, inching up so slow it’s torture.

“steve—” you breathe when he breaks away, kissing down your neck now, wet and open-mouthed.

“shh, i got you,” he says, voice all gravel. “m’gonna take it real slow, okay? tell me if it’s too much.” but there’s that edge, that glint in his eye when he nips at your collarbone. “though i bet y’won’t. bet y’want it bad already.”

his fingers find the hem of your bra, tracing the edge, then dipping under to brush your nipple. you jolt, a soft “oh” escaping, and he laughs quiet against your skin.

“sensitive, huh? look at that. hardening up just from a touch.” he rolls it gentle between his fingers, watching your face. “feels good, doesn’t it? say it.”

“y-yes,” you stutter. “feels… good.”

“good girl.” he pushes your shirt up then, exposing you to the cool air, and before you can protest, his mouth’s there—hot, sucking soft at first, then harder, tongue flicking.

you arch into it, hands in his hair now, tugging without thinking. “steve, that’s—mmph—that’s too…”

“too what?” he mumbles around you, switching sides. “too dirty for a good girl like you? nah. y’love it. feel how y’pushing into my mouth?”

he’s right. you are. heat pools low in your belly, aching, and you squirm against his thigh that’s still wedged between yours.

“yeah, there y’go,” he encourages, popping off with a wet sound. “grind on me a little. show me how bad y’need it.”

you hesitate, but he grabs your hips, guides you—slow rocks back and forth. the friction through your jeans and his makes you whine.

“fuck, listen to you,” he says, “moaning already and i haven’t even got y’pants off. y’that easy, sweetheart?”

“m’not,” you protest weak, but your hips keep moving, chasing it.

“sure you are.” his hands work your button open now, zipper down, so deliberate. “let’s check, hmm? bet y’soaked through those cute little panties.”

he tugs your jeans down to your thighs, then his fingers dip under the waistband, stroking over the damp cotton. you freeze, breath hitching.

“oh, baby,” he coos, mean and sweet all mixed. “you’re drenched. all this from some kissing huh? pathetic.”

tears sting your eyes—not bad, just overwhelmed—and he notices, thumbing one away. “aw, don’t cry. m’gonna make it better. gonna touch y’right here, okay? nice and slow.”

his finger circles your clit through the fabric first, light pressure that has you gasping. “like that? yeah? keep breathing f’me.”

you nod frantic, forehead on his shoulder. “steve, please—”

“please what?” he slips under now, bare skin on skin, and christ, you’re slick. he groans. “god, y’feel like silk. so wet and warm. m’gonna slide in now, alright? one finger. y’can take it.”

he does, easing in knuckle by knuckle, curling gentle. you clench around him, moaning broken.

“shh, relax,” he whispers. “let me in. that’s it—fuck, so tight. never had anything in here before, have you?”

“n-no,” you manage, voice muffled in his neck.

“thought so.” he pumps slow, in and out, thumb on your clit now. “gonna stretch y’out a bit. add another. breathe through it, baby.”

the second finger burns a little, but he talks you through— “good, y’doing so good. feel that? that’s you opening up for me. gonna make y’feel full.”

it builds agonizing slow, that pressure coiling tight. your hips buck into his hand, chasing more, and he pins you with his body.

“easy,” he warns. “don’t rush. let it come. y’close, aren’t you? can feel y’fluttering around my fingers.”

“i—i think so,” you gasp. “steve, it’s—oh my god—oh steve!”

“yeah, i know. m’gonna curl ‘em now, hit that spot. ready? come on, let go for me. soak my hand, pretty girl.”

he does, and it snaps—feels so good that it make you sob quietly into his shirt. “that’s it, fuck—y’coming so pretty. keep squeezing, just like that.”

you ride it out trembling, his fingers milking every last pulse till you’re boneless against him.

he pulls out slow, brings his hand up, and—oh god—licks them clean, eyes on yours. “taste yourself, baby. open.”

you do, dazed, sucking tentative when he pushes two fingers past your lips. “see? sweet as candy. m’addicted already.”

a knock rattles the door—time’s up, someone yells.

steve smirks, wiping his hand on his jeans. “better pull y’self together.”

bruisedsoupp-deactivated2026020

i’m so obsessed with everything you write, could you do another fic with steve and innocent!reader, like where reader has an oral fixation and is all shy about it 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

you don’t even realize you’re doing it anymore.

the pen cap sits between your teeth, plastic clicking softly every time you bite down a little harder. your tongue presses flat against it, then curls, then presses again—like you’re trying to soothe something restless inside your mouth that never quite settles.

he’s sprawled on his bed, one arm behind his head, the other lazily tracing circles on your bare thigh where you’re curled against his side pretending to read the same page of your book for the last twenty minutes.

“you’re gonna wear a hole through that thing, baby,” he murmurs, voice low and amused.

you freeze. the pen cap pops out of your mouth with a tiny wet sound that makes your whole face burn.

“i—sorry,” you mumble, shoving the pen under the pillow like it personally betrayed you. “i didn’t mean to—”

“hey.” his fingers catch your chin, gentle but firm, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to meet those big brown eyes that always look at you like you’re something precious and fragile and his. “don’t apologize.”

you swallow. your tongue feels too big, too restless. you want something between your teeth again. anything.

steve’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip, slow, deliberate.

“you’ve been doing it all night,” he says softly. “the straw in your milkshake earlier. my hoodie drawstring when we were watching that movie. the pen now.” his gaze drops to your mouth. “you get all fidgety and shy when you want something in your mouth, don’t you?”

your breath hitches. you want to hide your face in his chest, but his hand keeps you right there.

“i don’t… i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, voice barely above a whisper.

steve smiles—slow, knowing, the kind of smile that makes your stomach flip and your thighs press together.

“yeah you do.” his thumb drags across your lip again, parting it just slightly. “mm well, you’re not subtle, and you’re definitely not fooling me.”

you make a quiet, embarrassed noise and try to turn your head. he doesn’t let you.

“look at me.”

you do, because when steve uses that tone, soft but laced with quiet mockery, your body just… listens.

his eyes are warm, but hungry.

“you wanna tell me what you need?” he asks quietly. “or should i guess?”

your heart is hammering so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

“i—” your voice cracks. you lick your lips nervously. “i don’t know… i just… sometimes i just want…”

you trail off, mortified.

steve waits. patient. like he’s got all the time in the world to unravel you.

“…something,” you finish lamely. “um like y’know, in my mouth.”

his smile grows.

“yeah?” he shifts, rolling so he’s hovering over you now, one knee between your thighs, caging you in the best way. “like what, baby?”

you cover your face with both hands. “stevie don’t make me say it.”

he laughs under his breath—soft, fond, a little mean in the sweetest way.

“okay,” he murmurs, tugging your wrists down gently. “you don’t have to say it.” he leans closer, nose brushing yours. “but you’re gonna let me take care of it, yeah?”

your nod is slow. shaky.

“‘atta girl.” the praise hits you like a drug. you whimper without meaning to.

steve kisses you then—slow, deep, filthy in the way only he can manage while still being gentle. when he pulls back your lips are swollen, slick, and you’re breathing hard through your mouth.

he studies you for a second, like he’s deciding something.

then he sits back on his heels, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and yanking it over his head in one smooth motion.

he settles back between your legs, propped on one elbow, the other hand sliding up your side, under your shirt, warm palm flat against your ribs.

“open that pretty mouth f’me,” he says quietly.

your lips part on instinct.

he traces the shape of your bottom lip with his thumb again, then slowly—agonizingly—slides two fingers into your mouth.

you moan around them immediately, soft and broken.

“there she is, there’s my good girl,” steve whispers, “that’s what you needed, huh?”

you nod, cheeks flaming, tongue curling around his fingers like they’re the best thing you’ve ever tasted. you suck gently, then harder, embarrassed by how desperate it feels but unable to stop.

steve lets out a rough breath through his nose.

“fuuck, baby… you’re so sweet when you’re shy about shit.”

he presses down on your tongue, lets you swirl around the pads of his fingers, lets you hollow your cheeks and take them deeper until you gag just a little—and even then he doesn’t pull away.

he just watches, mesmerized.

“you want more?” he asks, voice gravelly.

your eyes flick down to the obvious bulge in his sweats, then back up to his face. you nod again, small and needy.

he pulls his fingers free with a wet pop, replaces them immediately with his mouth—kissing you messy.

when he finally pulls back he’s breathing hard, hair a wreck, pupils blown.

“stay right there,” he says, already reaching for the waistband of his sweats. “we’re gonna fill that pretty mouth properly tonight.”

you whimper, thighs squeezing together, already aching, already floating.

because steve’s looking at you like with that look— the one that makes you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together even tighter.

…and he’s about to ruin you anyway.

he always does.

that’s why you’re so so eager already—mouth open wide, tongue out, practically begging without words.

steve lets you have at it, sliding in slow until your lips stretch around him, and then you’re gone.

you suck and suck and suck, head bobbing up and down, up and down, sloppy and desperate, wet glucks filling the room every time he bumps the back of your throat.

your eyes flick up to him constantly, wide and watery, searching for that look of approval—and god, he gives it to you. his head tips back with a low groan, one big hand sliding into your hair, not pushing, just petting, thumb stroking gently over your scalp like you’re doing something perfect.

“good girl,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “look at you… so fucking good f’me.”

drool spills from the corners of your mouth in thick, shiny strands, dripping down your chin, onto your chest, but you’re still shy about it—cheeks burning, lashes fluttering, trying to keep your gaze locked on his even as your throat flutters and gags around him.

he just keeps patting your head softly, groaning every time you take him deeper, letting you chase that hazy, needy feeling until you’re both trembling.

plaugiest-deactivated20260525

mean!steve harrington with an innocent looking freak

steve harrington’s never met a girl like you before. sure, he’s slept with plenty of women in the past— some of them have been younger, perhaps older, even women within his age range. some enjoyed being forced into submission, and other girls liked regular old intimacy— but at the end of the night, they’d all say the same thing: maybe this kind of sex just isn’t for me. or something along those lines — lines of excuses that certainly project not being able to handle steve in bed.

he’s gotten so used to it, he just expects a one night fuck. if push came to shove he’d just fuck his hand all night until satisfaction— or that was until you came along. innocent looking thing, who’d looked like she’s never experienced the weight of the world crumbling into ruins. those big, stupid brown doe eyes that curates this weird savior complex within toji himself. but also a desired urge to wreck you loose, to corrupt any flowers planted within that silly little head of yours into dry weeds, pleading for the last source of water.

steve already knew you’d have a few screws loose in the head. assumption? yeah, but it’s always safe to assume the probability of a deer getting stuck in headlights, no? though, it wasn’t safe to assume the façaded innocence you carried as he decided to take a dip in sin.

your soft skin, flushed with sweat— legs thrown over the gruff man’s broad shoulders as his hips slammed into yours almost disrespectfully with a deep groan leaving his lips. “f—fuckk steve—” you whimpered, gnawing at your bottom lip to stifle your whines as his cock bullied your pussy open.

“thaaas’it baby, keep singin’ my name like your personal chant, yeah?” he’d groan, hovering his brooding frame over yours, all folded underneath him. “bet you’ve never been kissed here.” steve hums, his large rough hand tracing up towards your tummy— exactly where your womb is, as he gives you a nice, mean fucking thrust against your cervix making you cry out from such an euphoric feeling your body’s trembling as you nod your head with glossy eyes.

harringtonsprincesss

“steve hears that all the time and he goes in anyway, don’t you steve?” — H. STEVE PT2

the fight is over. vecna is gone, no more monsters will come out of the ground and try to steal you or any of the kids. the tension is palpable when you both walk in his house. steve smells horrible, but it doesn't stop you from leaning against him.

it should feel relieving, that the fight is done. yet it feels heavy, as if your body is still not processing anything. “im going to shower,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “can i come with you?” you ask, the feeling of his cock in your mouth still in the back of your mind. and so is his promise. his promise of finally making you his.

“sure baby, come on.” he pulls you to his restroom, grabbing two towels. you both strip off sticky, dirty clothes, letting out a hum of appreciation as you walk in the shower. the water is warm, but the feeling of his body behind you is even warmer. he buries his face into the back of your neck, hands running up and down your stomach.

he's trying to calm himself down, its not thr first time you both showered together. yet this time it feels weird. the first couple of times he had forced himself to keep himself soft to not make you uncomfortable. but after everything, after you had gave him head, and your pleas of wanting to do more, he felt like he could do more.

“want me to wash your hair?” your sweet voice breaks the spell. he feels dirty, while he's thinking about pressing you against the wall and fucking you dumb, you're offering to wash his hair. “yeah.” he says softly, ducking his head to your neck as you begin lathering his hair with shampoo. the feeling of your hands against his scalp makes him shiver, his hands twitching against your sides.

steve needs to do something before he ends up doing something he regrets. so he grabs shampoo and lathers your hair. softly massaging your scalp. the moment is soft, vulnerable. it would be wholesome if his cock wasn't twitching against your torso. and you somehow haven't noticed!

after what seems a lifetime, you both are done with the shower. steve helps you out, holding your hand and wrapping the towel around your body before he wraps his own towel around his torso.

his eyes linger on you as you rub lotion on your arms, on your legs...“baby?” he mumbles, his hands twitching, again. “yeah?” you answer innocently, blissfully unaware. “come here.” he wraps his arms around your shoulders, forcing your face to be buried in his hair chest as he pulls you into an embrace. you whine against his chest, but ultimately end up hugging him back. “i thought i was gonna lose you...” he whispers against your scalp, fingers digging into your arms.

“i thought i was going to lose you!” you whimper, looking up at him as much as you can with your cheek pressed against his hairy chest. “when you fell off the tower i-” you frown, tears swelling up. “i thought you were a goner.” he senses your tears. he always does. his hands go to your cheeks, chest heaving slightly. “i thought i was a goner too.” he chuckles dryly, softly kissing your lips desperately. “you were all i was thinking about.” he whispers against your lips, hoisting you up and walking you to his room.

you squeak as he does so. is it really time? the time you been waiting for since getting your mouth stuffed? “steve...” you whimper, softly tugging at his hair. steve lays you down in bed, slowly unwrapping the towel from your body, you look so hot,even more now that he's moments from being able to claim you.

“we'll start off slow.” he croaks out, his eyes locked in your pretty core. “we gotta get you as loose as possible to be able to fit me.” his words make everything feel everything so real. this is really happening. “o-okay.” you mumble, biting your lip as he kneels down infront of your, grabbing your hips and wrapping your legs around his neck. your pussy is so close to his face he's basically salivating.

he starts off slow, rubbing your clit slowly to ease you into the feeling of being touched. then kitten licks, just on your clit before he starts diving more in so his tongue is probing into your tight hole. you? well you're a moaning mess since the start. your hips constantly hitching up at the new sensation.

its all so dirty. so sloppy. steve doesn't even realize the amount of spit around his chin as he feasts himself in your pussy. he's enjoying himself like if he's having his last meal. the feeling of his tongue lapping around your folds, paired with the occasional nudge his nose does to your clit leave you already overstimulated. “i think you're ready.” his voice sounds much lower than usual, you never seen this side of him.

he thumbs at your entrance, smirking as it welcomes in the tip of his thumb easily. he knows its not even remotely the same, the tip of his finger and the tip of his cock, but he doesn't care. he needs to be inside you now.

“wait!” your voice rips him out of the trance he was in. “can you...” you look away in embarrassment, thighs trembling. “can you hold me? while you're doing...it.” his eyes soften, immediately climbing ontop of you to bracket your head with his arm. you gaze up at him with glossy eyes, bottom lip trembling. but he can see your eagerness, specially with the way your nails dig into his biceps.

“ill start with the—” he stops talking, staring at you. “do you want to be ontop?” he asks softly, smiling at you. you nod dumbly, not fully knowing what's the difference. he lays down, pulling you ontop of him. he manhandles you so you're slightly sitting up, his free hand holding his cock up. “you can go down at your pace, i wont control you." he says gently, looking up at you as if you hung the stars.

you nod, nails digging into his chest as he gently prodes your hole with the tip. your breathing hitches, nails digging deeper into his chest. “its okay...just breathe.” you whimper, slowly going down on him. you can feek your hole stretch out as the tip goes in. fat tears roll down your cheeks. you're limp by now, the only thing holding you up is steve's hands under your armpits.

“oh my sweet girl...” he whispers, bringing you down so you can fully bury your face into his neck. one hand goes to the back of your head, while the other drifts to your ass. “its too big...” you mewl, sobbing into his chest. he can feel your pussy clench around the head of his cock, it all feels so good. “i know baby, i know.” he grips your ass, hitching it up. he tries to move in just an inch, but you're gripping him—or more like your pussy is gripping him tight— to where he cant move.

“baby we have to continue..” he groans, trying to keep his voice stable. he cant have himself and you be complete messes. you nod mindlessly, too cockdrunk to think about anything other then him. he slowly goes in, taking long breaks inbetween. by the time he's fully in, you're a sobbing mess, yet when he tried to stop you said you could do it. he still doesn't move, wanting to let you get adjusted to him inside of you.

he can feel the way your gummy walls clench around him, forming themselves to fit his size. he's going to make sure he's the only thing that's going inside you. he has half mind to not pull out. if he eve has the time too. he can already tell he's going to be pussy drunk by the time you're both done.

“you can start to m-move now..." you whisper against his ear, not planning on changing your position anytime soon. he presses a soft kiss to your neck, keeping his mouth there as he adjusts himself to start pumping you slowly. soon enough, you're begging him for more.

in a couple of minutes the bed is shaking, his hips are moving erratically as you cry out his name. “this pussy is so fuckin' good..” he groans, eyes rolling back as he continues slamming into you. you're a blabbering mess, eyes rolling back aswell as you arch your back into him.

“gonna marry you...make you a-” he groans, biting hard into your shoulder as he quickens his pace. you're close, he can feel it. “going to marry you and make you a pretty little wife.” he legs constrict as he fuck you. you gasp, lifting your head out of his neck to look at him. “steve!” you cry out, he's practically fucking the oxygen out of you. “im coming...” “i know baby, so am i—”

he twitches under you as you sink your hips, your glossy eyes and red lips staring down at him. “dont pull out. dont pull out please-”

his eyes widen, his cock twitching inside of you. before he knows it, you're coming all over his cock, the feeling driving him over the edge and he's coming inside of you. his seed buried deep inside of you. you're limp, again. head buried against his chest as he tries to process what just happened. “baby you-” he looks down to find you already asleep. cheek comfortably resting against his chest. he's still inside of you, but he's afraid he'll wake you if he tries to move.

“we'll talk about this later.” he whispers, pecking your nose before pulling a blanket over both of you. all he can hope is that he got you pregnant.

bslcry

patience / steve harrington

summary: your boyfriend steve has a really big dick, and you have sex with him for the first time. but it takes a little extra effort because of his size ;)

tags: SMUT, big dick! steve, p in v sex, loooots of petnames, steve is in love with you, use of princess, reader has a vagina, soft dom! steve, missionary, (steve is so sweet and gentle and loves reader so much here need this so bad)

m.list if ya like!

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"slowly, baby. don't want you to hurt yourself princess." steve coos, bending down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. you look so focused, so desperate to get the rest of him in, and it's driving him insane. neither of you can wait for the sweet relief of his dick rubbing against your walls and his balls slapping against your ass.

but steve's dick is big. thick and heavy, decorated with prominent veins and a plump, leaking tip. he couldn't push himself in to the hilt now without hurting you, and he didn't want his princess to hurt in any way.

"please, stevie. just a bit more. need to feel you so bad." you plead, wanting it so bad. needing him like you're life depends on it.

"me too, baby, but you gotta be patient. ok, sweets? can you do that for me?"