#Steve’s moves are pretty good
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crusheswhimsandfancies · 2 years ago
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Blue Jeans Baby by Atlantic 5
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pinyatapix · 15 days ago
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how i imagine Minecraft Alex's personality to be like vs how i imagine Minecraft Steve's personality. duality of minecraft
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d1sheclectic · 10 months ago
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i almost regret watching the outsiders movie because it tainted my perception of the characters :(
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hardrockshrimp · 2 years ago
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Little Green Men!!!!
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catharusustulatus · 2 years ago
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Possible plot points for Stranger Things have been bouncing around my head like the DVD logo screensaver, so here's some of what I think is going to happen in season 5. Cue the bingo cards!
Multiple time jumps; one between S4 and S5, one mid-season
Max wakes up with a connection to Vecna and/or the Upside Down
The gang has a tactical montage set in Hopper's cabin
Sinkholes open up all over Hawkins, one swallows Family Video
Mrs. Wheeler gets involved in the action somehow
Jancy breaks up, Stancy is either endgame or Steve dies
Dustin has nightmares about Eddie the way Max did about Billy
Steve and Dustin brotherly moment post-nightmare/panic attack
Eddie comes back but not as Kas, more like Billy did in S4 if at all
Robin and Vickie flirt, maybe even kiss, Vickie leaves for safety
Murray dies, either sacrificing himself or killed by gov agents
Suzie assists the gang against gov agents using Cerebro
Big fight/shootout with evil government guys is B plot
Argyle is the comic relief until he has a heroic scene
Dustin forms a plan to use time travel in Upside Down for final fight
Will comes out to Jonathan and Joyce and is accepted
Will comes out to Mike, is supported but rejected romantically
Will's feelings for Mike and possible rejection will awaken powers
Will is trained by El and/or 008 to use his powers
Badass moment of Steve w/ the nail bat set to music goes viral
Steve dies in penultimate episode or act 2 of the finale in a final sacrifice for Nancy/Robin/Dustin/everyone
Final fight against Vecna is over 2/3 through finale
Emotional high school graduation scene post final fight
Lumax, Mileven, and Jopper endgame
Finale montage to emotional 80's song ties up lose ends
Jopper wedding is final scene
Heroes cover by Peter Gabriel is used at least once
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pikachu-deluxe · 2 months ago
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been thinking recently about how i play games (in general but also a bit on the competitive side on some)
turns out i don't particularly care about winning, i just want to have fun, but obviously i do like winning i just try to do win by doing very stupid stuff
it's way more fun for everyone involved when you do things against the meta or common sense and end up winning anyways bc it's so weird that it takes others by surprise
#i like doing dumb things that only work bc they're dumb#so everyone just falls for it#hehe yes run into my very telegraphed move boy#also why i enjoy low tiers more so than top tiers in most cases#bc they're often not super explored so people aren't used to playing against them#so they have no idea what to expect from someone that takes weird ass characters seriously#maybe i should get back into mk8dx#and use a stupid combo like max speed or something#bc you can win with that if you know how to go about bagging#can't frontrun tho#i'll think about it#i just kinda quit that game bc it's just. so dumb it's such a bad game. sort of in a way#it's good it's just oddly designed. it's at least pretty well balanced all things considered#but i hate it bc of how you have to play the game if you wanna compete at higher level#same with smash ult kinda. i hate Hate how high level ult is played. it's so fucking slow and defensive bullshit#but there's some fun to be had in it if you do dumb stuff as i said#or if you have a character like ness that presses a bunch of buttons so you're always doing something#i like pressing a bunch of buttons :3#it's so much better than just standing there waiting for the other guy to do something like sonic waiting to spin dash or#steve mining with a wall between you#or g&w doing stupid things in general this bitch has too much air movility#also fuck mario (sometimes) he's such a fast character you can't do anything unless you have fast options or are patient enough to wait for#an opening. but fuck that i don't wanna wait around#i wanna run straight at you and hit you#before anyone says to play melee or pm. no#sorry it's a bad game too just in different ways. not bad bad but yknow#meteor cancel. shields that reflect projectiles. like 15 characters you can use if you're good enough otherwise you have like 5 you can use#out of the 26 in the game (not counting wireframes or giga bowser)#tho melee definitely has some better mechanics like wavedashing and run speed carrying over from jumps (not really a mechanic tho#since it can be changed on each character individually)
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witchywithwhiskey · 8 months ago
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the alpha next door
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pairing: alpha!steve rogers x omega!female reader
summary: you and your neighbor are harboring feelings for each other, but both of you think the other is too sweet. then, things take a turn when your first heat since moving in hits, revealing the depth of your feelings for the alpha next door—and his for you.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), omegaverse AU tropes (heats, knots, purring, mating, scenting), piv sex, breeding kink/pregnancy kink (reader's on birth control tho), accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), dirty talk, praise kink, daddy kink, little bit of mommy kink, size kink, pet names (baby), mutual pining, idiots in love, dual pov
word count: 8.9k
a/n: here's my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420's Cum Together Extravaganza!!! i used the A/B/O AU and breeding kink prompts—and this is my very first omegaverse fic!!! so uhhh please be kind because i don't know what i'm doing 😅 also loosely inspired by "too sweet" by hozier!! anyway, this ended up a lot longer than i thought it would be....whoops!! hope y'all enjoy!!!
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When you first moved into the little pink cottage next door, Steve Rogers decided that you were too sweet for an ex-soldier alpha like him. An omega like you was filled with sunshine and gentleness, and you deserved an alpha who would treat you like the precious thing you were. 
The kindest thing Steve could do for you was stay away. The thoughts you inspired in his alpha hindbrain had him hating the rough and greedy animal side of himself. He wanted to dig his fingers into your plush hips and bend you over, make you present your pretty little body in the way the alpha in him craved. 
But he reminded himself you were too sweet. Too sweet for the obscene thoughts that plagued his mind. Too sweet to be defiled by a big alpha like him. Too sweet to be swollen and round and glowing because you were carrying his child…
Still, you were his neighbor and Steve couldn’t avoid you entirely, even though everything he saw only reaffirmed his belief that you were too good for him. 
The little pink cottage beside his house had come with a front garden filled with pink roses and all manner of other pink flowers that Steve couldn’t even begin to name, but you tended to them like you’d planted them yourself. Steve would get home from work, park his truck in his driveway—which had a perfect view of your front garden. He’d watch you from behind his tinted windows as you took care of your flowers, looking like a garden fairy come to life.
When Steve eventually grew uncomfortable with how long he’d been watching you, he would get out of his truck and call a gruff hello to you as he made his way inside. Your melodic voice returning his greeting would follow him into his house, where he’d close his door and lean against it, panting like he’d just escaped a warzone while his cock strained against his jeans. But Steve wouldn’t stoop to jerking himself off to the thought of you—at least not while you were just outside. 
On weekends, Steve would work in his backyard, mowing the grass and tending to the shrubs that ran along the line separating his property from yours. When the weather was nice and pleasantly warm, you would sit out on your small back porch, curled up in a wicker chair reading some book or another.
Steve would offer to mow your lawn, just for an excuse to stay outside longer, and be a little bit closer to you. You’d let him, and thank him for his efforts by giving him some ice cold lemonade, smiling up at him while he drank it. Steve wasn’t the least bit surprised the lemonade was more sweet than tart. 
As the weeks and months passed since you’d moved in, Steve couldn’t help but feel his desire for you growing, becoming a living thing curling around his heart, making it beat for you. You were the sweetest and prettiest omega he’d ever met, and he’d be lucky to be your alpha, but he kept his distance, certain you could do better than him.
That is, until your first heat after moving in next door changed everything.
That was when Steve learned you were far more than the innocent little omega he’d determined you to be—you were a creature of sex and desire, made to take an alpha’s knot and be pumped full of come in the hopes that their seed would take root in your womb. When your heat hit fully, your keening wails echoed from your cottage, and they were a siren song that called directly to Steve’s alpha heart.
But he kept himself away. After all, there were polite ways of going about these things, and he’d never even asked you out on a date, so he certainly wasn’t going to assume you wanted his help to get you through your heat. Besides, you hadn’t asked for him to join you, anyway.
That didn’t stop Steve from keeping an eye on you, though.
He’d noticed the slight change in your scent a few days before your heat truly set in, his cock reacting even more to your perfect omega body than normal. Steve felt like he was walking around with a constant bulge in his pants after getting a single whiff of your scent, but he ignored the niggling feeling telling him he needed to be close to you and did his best to hide his reaction. He knew you had other things to worry about than the comfort of the alpha next door. 
Even though something in him compelled him to go to you, Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk over to your cottage. It occurred to him that even if you didn’t want him to help you through your heat, he could offer to go to the store to get the food and provisions you’d need. But he didn’t. He was worried about what he’d do if he looked into your home and saw your nest and smelled your sweet perfume. 
So Steve kept his distance, watching you from his truck and the windows of his house as you brought home a week’s worth of provisions—protein bars and sports drinks that would keep you nourished enough to make it through your heat. Steve wished he could carry the heavy-looking bags into your home, but his cock was pitching a tent in his sweatpants, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with the way his alpha body reacted to your omega scent. 
Finally, as your heat drew closer, you locked up your cottage, closing all the windows and drawing all the curtains. Steve couldn’t help but notice, though, that you left the skylight in your bedroom cracked open a tiny bit. Steve’s alpha hindbrain itched at the thought that you’d only left it open because you couldn’t close it yourself, and he had to hold himself back from going over to your cottage to offer to close it.
Steve knew omegas liked to keep their nests dark and warm and locked up tight. They wanted to keep all the scents created during a heat trapped in their nest, at least until their heat broke. So it was curious that you’d left the skylight open, even a little bit. 
But when your heat hit in earnest that evening, your pitiful whimpers and desperate moans filtering through the open window and directly to Steve’s ears—through the window of his bedroom that he’d thrown open the moment he’d heard you—he forgot about what omegas typically wanted. Instead, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock, making him harder than he’d ever been in his life. 
Steve stood at the window of his bedroom, which overlooked your cottage, his eyes glazing over as he listened to you pant and whine and cry out for an alpha that wasn’t coming. Because of course Steve had noticed that no alpha had arrived to help you through your heat. He assumed you were using any number of the toys that were sold precisely to help unmated omegas get through their heats without an alpha’s help. 
But it meant you were alone, in your nest, riding out your heat on some silicone knot. That thought nearly made Steve storm from his house and barge into your cottage to demand you let him help you, but he reminded himself you were too sweet, too sweet, too sweet for him. So instead, he fisted his cock and listened to your raspy pleas fill the night sky.
“Need your knot, alpha, oh god, please,” you babbled, your voice beautifully melodic to Steve even when you were desperately begging for something he knew he shouldn’t give you. “Fill me up, daddy, I need it—need your knot, alpha—daddy, daddy, alpha, please, please, please!” Your moans grew louder and Steve could only imagine the thick silicone knot that was filling you up the way he should be filling you.
One of Steve’s hands gripped the frame of his window tightly, using the feel of the wood digging into his palm to keep himself grounded as he physically fought with his alpha instincts. He wanted to break into your cottage and rip your toys away from you so he could help you through your heat. Like he was meant to. It should be him inside you, sinking into your warm, welcoming cunt while you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
Steve’s other hand gripped his cock, pumping his hard, stiff length with a fist so tight, it was nearly punishing. It helped a little, but his fist was a far cry from your perfect cunt, which would be gushing with wetness and so hot, Steve would feel like he was sinking into heaven and hell at the same time. And when he came, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as satisfying as emptying his balls right against your cervix, pumping your womb full of his seed while knot locked your bodies together so it would be almost certain he’d knock you up. 
That is, if you weren’t on birth control. Which most unmated omegas were, Steve reminded himself.
Still, the alpha in him was a beast barely caged—he wanted to breed you. 
Steve wanted to see you impaled on his cock and his knot, so bloated from how full you were with his come that he could see it in the way your belly bulged, giving a preview of what you’d look like growing with his child. He wanted to knock you up, he wanted to see you swollen and round with his pup. 
He wanted to keep fucking you even as you carried his child, watching you bounce on his knot, your tits swollen with milk and your belly big and round while he tried to fill your womb with another before you’d even popped out the first. Steve wanted to keep you pregnant all the time, your pretty little omega body always ripe and swollen with his pups, taking his knot and his come every moment of the day so he could make sure you were always glowing with the radiance of motherhood.
It was that image of you—beautiful and knocked up, your eyes hazy with pleasure that came only from being impaled on his cock, and being locked on his knot—that made Steve come. 
He grunted as the pleasure of his fist and his thoughts of you finally became too much, wrapping both his hands around his thick length, one squeezing his knot while the other pumped the rest of his shaft. His come erupted from the tip, streaming over the windowsill and dripping down to his bare feet on the wooden floor of his bedroom.
A growl tore from Steve’s lips while he came, a deep, dark part of his alpha hindbrain responding furiously to the fact that he was wasting his seed. He should be emptying his balls deep in your fertile cunt while your slick walls gripped his knot and milked every drop of his seed into your womb, where it belonged. 
Steve’s release seemed to last for ages, longer than he’d ever experienced before, and if it wasn’t for the fact that his head finally started to clear when it abated, he would’ve been worried he’d gone into rut. But finally, Steve surfaced from the depths of his pleasure, and winced when he remembered the thoughts that had made him come.
Steve was appalled by the direction in which his imagination had gone, and felt guilty for imagining you in such a state as pregnant and bouncing on his cock—even as the reminder made his cock leak one last spurt of his release. Cursing and castigating himself, Steve moved away from the window to clean himself up and wipe down the spot where he’d been standing. 
The entire time he was cleaning up after himself, Steve felt off-balance. He’d never felt such a pull toward an omega before you, and he’d never been so close to going into rut just from listening to an omega whimper and moan. If he didn’t know better, he would think you were his mate—the one omega in the whole world who was perfect for him. 
But Steve pushed that thought aside and reminded himself you were too sweet for an alpha like him. You might’ve sounded desperate and needy while you suffered through your heat alone, but you deserved better than an alpha who could think of nothing else besides pumping you full of come and knocking you up with his child.
Steve felt disturbed all over again when he thought of the vivid, obscene things he’d imagined while he’d jerked himself off. He’d never been the type of alpha to get off on the idea of breeding, let alone pictured anyone swollen with his kid while they were impaled on his cock. Steve felt so far out of his depth, he swiped his clean hand down his face to try to regain the equilibrium that had been shattered by your pretty omega sounds.
Thankfully, you’d gone blessedly quiet at some point when Steve had been coming all over his windowsill. He tossed the rag he’d used to clean up his mess into the laundry and flopped down on his bed, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any rest that night. It was a good thing he’d called out of work on heat leave.
Even as Steve lay in his bed, the refrain that you were too sweet for him repeating in his mind, he couldn’t help hoping that you were getting some much-needed rest. He’d never been one to worry over much about whether someone was sleeping or eating, but he wondered if you’d had a protein bar and drank a sports drink before falling asleep. He knew you needed to keep up your strength if you’d make it through your heat. 
His thoughts spinning around in his mind, Steve fell into a light, fitful sleep, his alpha hindbrain remaining alert and attuned to the sounds coming from your cottage. Little did he know, it wouldn’t be long before everything would change. Something would happen that would force Steve to finally give in to the connection between him and the omega next door.
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When you woke on the second morning of your heat, it was to a burning need cutting through your core, urging you to roll onto your knees and sink down on the silicone knot toy that had slipped from your pussy while you slept. Unbidden, the face of the alpha next door, Steve Rogers, popped into your mind and you sobbed through another wave of aching desire, wishing desperately that he was with you to help you through your heat.
You hadn’t met the alpha until after you’d moved into the little pink cottage next door to his much larger home, and you were instantly smitten with the former soldier. He was big—so much bigger than you—with broad shoulders and bulging biceps that were barely hidden beneath the tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear. But it was Steve’s thighs that were always so distracting to you, so thick they made you want to ride them until your slick was drenching his jeans.
A pitiful moan fell from your lips as you reached between your thighs, grasping blindly for the toy you’d discarded in your sleep. With your face still shoved into a pillow and sleep still clinging to the edges of your consciousness, you slid down on the thick silicone cock, pretending it belonged to Steve. 
The alpha next door was just so…sweet. 
It hadn’t taken you long after moving into your cottage to learn your neighbor’s schedule, and you made sure to always be working in the garden in front of your home when he got back from work. You lived for the growly greetings he would call to you, and the faint blush that would graze his cheekbones, like he was shy around you, his harmless omega neighbor. 
And on the weekends, when you knew Steve wasn’t working, you sat on your back porch reading—though you were more often ogling the fit alpha’s shoulders and arms as he worked in his backyard. The sun would shine on Steve’s blond hair and make him look like a golden god, with sparkling blue eyes that would occasionally flick in your direction, though you didn’t think he was really looking at you.
Of course, when he’d offer to mow your lawn, you’d let him. Then, to show the alpha your thanks, you’d make him some nice refreshing lemonade. If that meant you could watch him quench his thirst while you imagined his sweet mouth on your body, drinking your slick as eagerly as he drank your lemonade, then that was just a bonus to being a good neighbor. Right?
It had become abundantly clear to you that you harbored a crush on Steve, and it was nearly excruciating living next to him when he didn’t seem interested in making a move on his omega neighbor. After all, it had been months, and he’d been nothing but friendly and respectful and sweet. 
It was obvious, at least to you, that Steve was too sweet for you—too sweet to be the rough, dominant alpha you craved. Too sweet to bend you over and impale you on his thick cock with one stroke. Too sweet to shove his knot into your cunt and make you come so hard you saw stars. Too sweet to knock you up over and over again, filling up that big house of his with pups that you’d created together. 
You’d told yourself it was for the best that Steve kept his distance. If he couldn’t be what you needed, then you didn’t want your crush to develop into unrequited feelings. But your heart didn’t listen, so you kept putting yourself in situations where you’d get to see your neighbor—working in your front garden when he got home, sitting on your back porch while he was in his backyard. 
Then, you began to feel your heat coming on, and your thoughts about the alpha next door only worsened. It wasn’t uncommon anymore for unmated omegas to ask alpha friends or acquaintances to help them through their heats, but the prospect of asking Steve for his help, getting to come all over his knot for days on end, and then trying to go back to the way things were sounded torturous. 
Instead, you went about your heat preparations as you always did, gathering supplies from the grocery store and stocking up the minifridge in your bedroom with sports drinks while you piled your bedside table high with protein bars. You closed and locked all the doors and windows of your cottage, drawing the curtains tight to keep out the sun. 
You knew you were a bit of an odd omega, and you didn’t like total darkness in your nest, which was why you had been the only one interested in the little cottage. It had a skylight in the bedroom that any other omega would want closed and covered during their heat. The window itself was covered in a film that dampened most of the direct  sunlight and you enjoyed the natural light, even when you were deep in your heat, so it was perfect for you.
It occurred to you, as you were preparing your room, that if you cracked open the skylight, the sounds you made during your heat would filter out from your cottage. Your desperate cries for a knot might even be heard by the alpha next door…
Later, you’d blame your decision to leave the skylight open on the dangerous combination of your pre-heat brain and the exquisite agony of your crush on Steve. But by that time, the little decision you’d made in the urgency of your heat preparations would’ve irrevocably changed your life—for the better—and you wouldn’t give a thought to regretting what you’d done.
Still, on that second morning of your heat, when you were woken by the need to be knotted and flooded with come, you didn’t even remember that you’d decided to leave the skylight open. So you had no idea whether it was working or not, whether Steve could hear you—but he wasn’t far from your thoughts as you rode your silicone alpha toy, trying to slake the need that burned through your body. 
Your heats were always a little hazy, like most omega’s, with desire and need pounding through your blood so insistently, you couldn’t form any coherent thoughts. Your mind could only focus on getting a cock inside you, then a knot and, if you’d had an alpha to help you, the gush of their come. Since you were so mindless, you uttered words that you’d forgotten the second they fell from your lips.
The first night of your heat, when you’d had a moment of clear-headedness enough to gulp down a sports drink and scarf a protein bar, you’d hoped you hadn’t cried out anything that would embarrass you—like Steve’s name. You’d had a vague memory of calling out for an alpha, which was normal for an unmated omega, and a daddy, which was normal for you, given your desires when you weren’t going through your heat. But you’d breathed a sigh of relief when you didn’t remember calling out for Steve specifically. 
You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you cried out Steve’s name while in heat. But you were about to find out.
The silicone toy in your cunt wasn’t cutting it. It had been just fine that first night, though you hadn’t felt as satisfied as you normally did, and you hadn’t slept as long as you typically did in between waves of your heat. Something about this heat felt different. You weren’t just desperate for an alpha’s knot and come, you wanted more…
You wanted a pup. You wanted an alpha’s cock shoved deep in your cunt, unloading their come against your cervix, filling your womb with a seed that would take and knock you up. You wanted to be bred—and not just by any alpha. You wanted the alpha next door to breed you.
Steve. You wanted Steve. You needed Steve. 
“Please,” you gasped, the word leaving your lips as you thought of your big, sweet alpha neighbor. His face came easily to your mind, those sparkling blue eyes and soft lips, that strong jaw and the way a blush turned his cheeks the most perfect shade of pink. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need your come,” you whined, speaking to the image of Steve in your mind.
You pushed yourself up onto your knees, grabbing one of the many pillows from your bed and shoving it between your thighs, forcing the silicone alpha cock deeper into your cunt. Still, it wasn’t enough, even as you tried to make due. 
You rocked your hips, trying to replicate the feeling of fucking yourself on an alpha’s cock, but it paled in comparison. A desperate whine worked its way up your throat, filling your room and slipping from the skylight into the morning air.
“Please, daddy, wanna have your baby,” you cried, your hands going to your tits and tugging on your nipples so roughly, pleasure and pain swirled through your body, creating a tornado of sensation that only fed the need burning in your core. “Wan’ you to knock me up, alpha, wanna give you pups, wan’ you to suck on my milky tits while you fuck me, daddy.” You groped your breasts, pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself, the sensations making your cunt gush slick all over the toy inside you. 
The pleasure was gathering in your core, making you more desperate to reach the pinnacle of your climax. Your hips worked, humping the pillow and cock between your thighs, shoving yourself down against the knot at the base of the toy, knowing it was what you needed to come, but your pussy was still too tight to take it. 
“Oh god, I need it, alpha, I need it, I need it,” you babbled mindlessly, fucking yourself furiously on the toy and still wishing it was Steve’s cock. 
You pictured him beneath you, his cheeks tinged pink, not with a blush, but with the flush of his desire for you, his blue eyes nearly black from his pupils blowing wide as he stared up at you. His soft mouth parted as he groaned, his thick cock buried in your tight cunt, twitching as you squeezed him.
It was with that image in your mind that the fateful words spilled from your lips. You cried out desperately, “Knock me up, daddy, gimme your pup, please—please, breed me, Steve!” 
So close to the edge of your release, you barely heard the distant crashing sound that echoed between your little cottage and the house that belonged to the alpha next door. All you heard were your gasping breaths and mindless moans, the toy shoving into your cunt making low squelching noises that only managed to turn you on more. 
It was only when a much closer smashing sound preceded the swirl of cool morning air infiltrating your home, and flooding into your nest, that you were able to drag your attention away from your own desperate frustration. Your omega instincts were going haywire, part of you telling you something was wrong, while another part unfurled and shifted, like a flower blooming toward the sun. 
Blinking your eyes to clear away the haze of your heat, your mouth fell open in an ‘o’ of surprise at the sight of the alpha in your bedroom doorway. 
Steve’s big body filled the doorway, his hands clutching the wooden frame while his chest heaved with heavy breaths. It looked like he was trying to hold himself back, his grip so tight on your doorframe that a distant part of your mind worried it might splinter beneath his palms. But you couldn’t think too closely about that, not when your neighbor was staring at you with a crazed look in his eyes, like he wanted to fill you with his knot as badly as you wanted to be filled.
Your too sweet alpha neighbor’s mouth—which was normally curved in a soft, friendly smile—was twisted with ferocious lust, and when he spoke, his voice was a rough growl like nothing you’d ever heard from Steve. 
“Invite me into your bed,” he rumbled, the order clear in his voice even if he didn’t use his alpha command. “Ask me to help you through your heat, tell me you want me here,” he went on through clenched teeth, an edge of desperation in his tone that called your heart—and your cunt. “Tell me you want me, omega.” His fingers gripped the doorframe tighter, and you heard the wood creak beneath his strength. 
Your pussy spasmed and your heart lurched when Steve called you by your designation, but it was when his scent hit you that you felt something inside your being shift and lock into place. Steve smelled like home—like safety and security and love. He smelled like a future of wrangling children together and making love together and sitting on a porch swing together and growing old together. 
In that moment, you knew what your instincts had known from the moment you met Steve—he was your mate. He was the one alpha in all the world who was meant for you, just as you were the omega meant for him. And once you knew that, it was the easiest thing in the world to part your lips and beg him to join you in your nest, in your bed, and help you through your heat.
“Please, Steve—please, mate, please help me,” you begged, your voice breathy with need and excitement, tears of joy shining in your eyes. 
Something shifted in Steve’s expression when you called him your mate. You watched as he took a deep breath, scenting you the way you had him. A riot of emotions swirled in those beautiful blue eyes of his—disbelief, acknowledgement, acceptance, satisfaction, pride. You saw the moment he realized what you’d only just discovered, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.
“My omega, my mate,” Steve growled, finally letting go of the doorframe and launching himself at you.
Finally—finally—Steve was coming to you, closing the distance between you, and you’d never been happier in all your life. The alpha next door was your mate, and you hoped that meant he would be more than willing to knock you up and breed you like you needed.
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Steve had woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of your sweet cries that morning, though they sounded much more desperate to his ears. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but you sounded less than satisfied with whatever toy you were using and Steve slid a hand down to his already hard cock, thinking you should’ve been riding him instead of some silicone dick.
He’d lazily stroked his cock, trying to restrain himself from coming all over his stomach, while listening to your increasingly desperate cries. Steve had fisted a hand in the sheets of his bed, hoping it would be enough to hold himself back from storming over to your cottage and taking your heat into his own hands. 
Then, Steve heard you cry out his name and something in him snapped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d thrown on some boxer briefs and stormed out of his bedroom, leaping down the stairs and throwing open the front door of his house so ferociously, he’d ripped it off some of the hinges. 
Not even caring that he was leaving his door open, Steve charged over to your cottage, taking a little bit more care with your front door when he broke the lock and pushed it open, flinging it closed behind him. He knew it was likely stuck closed thanks to the broken lock, but Steve only cared that it would prevent anyone else from getting into your home. He’d deal with getting out later. Much later.
Finally, Steve got to the doorway of your bedroom, your nest, and he’d stumbled to a stop at the sight that lay before him.
You were perched in the center of your big bed, a pillow wedged between your thighs, the knot of a toy barely visible while you humped futilely on the fake cock. Your delicate fingers groped your tits, squeezing your soft flesh and pinching your nipples like you were milking yourself—that thought making even more blood rush to Steve’s cock. Desperate whimpers and whines fell from your lips, more pleas to be knocked up and filled with pups, and they were nearly his undoing.
At the last second, Steve gripped the doorframe, holding himself back from pouncing on you, as he tried to remember why he shouldn’t be there. You were an unmated omega, in heat, and he hadn’t gotten permission to be in your nest, let alone help you through your heat. And you were too sweet for him…
God, you looked sweet, though. Sweet enough that Steve’s mouth watered with the thought of how slick you were, how good you would taste on his tongue. Even from the doorway, he could see the way your wetness had soaked the pillow between your thighs. He wanted to taste you, to scent you, he wanted you. 
Steve was seconds away from launching himself at you when your gaze finally landed on him. It was the delighted surprise in your eyes that urged him to ground out a desperate plea for consent to enter your room and help you through your heat. Blessedly, you seemed coherent enough to answer—but you didn’t only answer and beg for his help, you called him your mate.
That word struck a chord in Steve’s chest, his heart pounding even harder at the impossible prospect that you were his mate—that you were meant to be his. But he took a deep breath, taking in the scent of you and opening himself up to the possibility that you were his. 
You even smelled sweet, like the pink roses in your front garden—or, rather, the peace Steve felt when he came home to find you tending to your flowers. You smelled like the warmth of a gentle fire and the giddiness of butterfly kisses. You smelled like life, like the time unfurling before the two of you, years and decades spent with each other, making each other happy. 
It was as if Steve truly came alive for the first time when he scented you, and the last tether of the self-restraint holding him back from you snapped. 
“My omega, my mate,” he rumbled in a low purr, a voice he’d never even heard himself use before. But he didn’t have time to think about that too closely—he only knew he needed to get to you. 
As quickly as he could, Steve surged into your room, tearing off his boxer briefs—the only clothing he’d had the presence of mind to put on, and he was thankful for it, since it saved him the grief of a public indecency charge—in the few steps it took to get to your bed.
By the time Steve tackled you into the tangle of blankets and pillows, he was naked as the day he was born, his cock throbbing with need and brushing against swaths of your soft, bare skin, leaving his precum behind. The alpha cradled your body in his strong arms as he rolled you beneath him, his narrow hips slotting perfectly between your plush thighs, his hard length resting against your mound. 
But there was something in his way, something that shouldn’t be inside you and Steve couldn’t help but growl, “Get that fucking toy out of my cunt, ‘mega.” He softened the fury in his voice with light, fleeting kisses to your cheeks and temple and forehead, greedy to taste the sweetness of your skin.
“Yes, alpha,” you gasped, fumbling between your bodies to wrench the silicone dick from your tight hole. 
The sweet submission in your voice was too much for Steve—he had to taste it. Slanting his lips to yours, Steve kissed you for the first time, groaning into your mouth at the wondrous feeling of your mouth beneath his. You tasted better than you smelled, like radiant sunshine bursting on his tongue and casting a golden glow over his entire body. 
Deepening the kiss, Steve plundered your mouth, stroking his tongue against yours and nipping at your lips until you were gasping and panting beneath him. Your entire body trembled with unslaked need, your fingers clinging to his bulging biceps as you cried out for him, all of which stroked Steve’s alpha ego so much, his cock twitched and leaked against your belly.
“Please, Steve—daddy—alpha—I need you inside me,” you wailed in a broken voice and Steve’s instincts took over.
He shifted his hips back, the tip of his cock finding your slick hole and he pushed forward, sinking his hard length into your cunt with one thrust. Steve’s entire world realigned, his heart stuttering in his chest at the feeling of your tight heat consuming him, overwhelming him. An animalistic groan left his lips, and he buried the sound in your neck, breathing in your scent as he tried not to come immediately.
With Steve’s cock finally buried inside you, he felt your body relax beneath him, your moan of pleasure dissolving into a sigh of relief. Steve’s hindbrain felt a deep satisfaction at the way you melted in his arms, your submission to him apparent in the loosening of your muscles. Finding your lips again, Steve kissed you sweetly, cherishing the moment of calm before your heat urged the two of you to move.
“Thank you, alpha,” you whispered, your voice soft and blissful and the most content Steve had heard it since your heat began in earnest the day before. “The toys weren’t working.” You pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek on your way to burying your face in the crook of his neck, breathing so deeply he could hear your inhale, making his cock twitch in the depths of your pussy. 
Then, your words pierced through the haze of pleasure in Steve’s mind and he purred, smiling into your neck when you relaxed further beneath him, responding to him.
“You needed your mate, didn’t you, baby?” Steve cooed, lavishing your neck with kisses until you were whining and squirming beneath him. “Needed your daddy to pound your needy little cunt like only your alpha could, huh?” He started rolling his hips in tight circles, grinding into your cunt, his knot rubbing your clit in a way that had you clenching deliciously around him. “Needed me to pump your sweet little womb full of come, huh, needed me to give you a pup?” 
As soon as the heated words fell from Steve’s lips, he wished he could take them back. He’d heard you beg him to breed you, but that was when you were riding a silicone alpha dick, not when you were seconds away from taking Steve’s knot. 
Mentally, Steve chastised himself for letting his mouth run away from him so soon. He’d barely gotten his cock in you and he was already talking about knocking you up. He didn’t want you to think he was that kind of alpha, one that only wanted an omega to pump out babies for him—even though the thought did make Steve rock hard.
“Sorry, ‘mega,” Steve mumbled, shifting his arms beneath your body so he could cradle your head in one hand, holding you still while he rocked his hips into yours, kissing your cheek and jaw and neck and anywhere he could reach. 
“Sorry for what?” you asked on a gasp, hooking your legs around Steve’s sides and clinging to him so you could grind on his thick cock. 
Thankfully, you didn’t seem turned off or scared by Steve’s breeding talk. If anything, the way you arched your spine and shoved your cunt down on his dick made him think you liked it. But surely that couldn’t be true.
“Didn’t mean to mention pups so soon,” Steve said gruffly, hiding his face in your neck so you wouldn’t see the blush that he knew was turning his cheeks pink. 
“Oh god,” you moaned, your cunt squeezing Steve’s cock as your body writhed beneath his. “Wanna give you so many pups, alpha,” you cried, humping up from beneath Steve’s big body, riding his cock harder than you’d been riding your toy when he’d walked in. 
Steve went cross-eyed at the assault on his senses. Between the perfect heat of your slick pussy gripping his cock, teasing his knot every time you rocked against him, and the sound of your sweet voice confessing you wanted him to knock you up, Steve’s body shuddered with the effort it took not slam his knot home and flood your womb with his seed to give you exactly what you wanted.
“You like that idea, huh?” Steve rumbled, hungry passion and desire coursing through his body and urging him to move faster, to fuck you harder. He pulled out of your fluttering pussy and slammed back inside, relishing the desperate cry that left your lips and the way your fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. “You like it when your alpha tells you how much he wants to breed you?” 
Despite his best efforts, Steve could hear the thread of insecurity in his question, and he wasn’t surprised when you cupped his face and moved his head up so you could look into his eyes. What he didn’t expect was the sheer amount of pleasure and desire in your hazy gaze, or the mixture of sweetness and depravity in the little smirk you gave him.
“I do, daddy,” you said, your voice breathy but no less firm in your resolve. “I want to hear everything you’ve thought about doing to your little omega—want you to breed me, alpha.” 
Everything else in the world melted away as Steve focused on you—his omega, his mate—and the fact that he was going to try his damndest to give you what you wanted. After all, that was his duty as your alpha. You were his to take care of, to provide for, to protect, to cherish—to fuck and to knot. 
You were his to love—you were his to breed. And Steve planned on loving you and breeding you plenty.
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You’d never felt anything so good as Steve sinking his thick alpha cock into your weeping cunt, and you nearly sobbed in relief as the edge of aching, burning need finally abated. This was what you needed—not a toy or any alpha’s cock, but your mate’s. Your body and omega instincts had known something was wrong, and it had taken a slip of your tongue to fix it. 
Even if it had been an accident to cry out Steve’s name, you couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not when you finally felt something like satisfaction. The need of your heat still burned bright beneath your skin, but for a moment, you could revel in the feeling of being so intimately connected to your mate, your Steve—the alpha next door. 
The words of thanks had slipped past your lips before you could stop them, and you loved the teasing way he responded. But then you felt a shift in Steve. He’d seemed to feel guilty for mentioning pups, but even his apology turned you on, making your arousal burn hotter. Your body had been unable to still when you needed him so badly—needed to give him pups, needed to grow round with his child and know that he had claimed you in the most primal way possible. 
Your brain had short-circuited when Steve had said he wanted to breed you, but you’d still heard the anxiousness in his tone and you’d guided his head up so you could look at him. The uncertainty and guilt in Steve’s beautiful blue eyes nearly broke your heart. He was too sweet for words, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with even the words he said in the heat of the moment. 
Between one breath and the next, you fell in love with Steve Rogers. He wasn’t simply the alpha next door, he was your mate, and he was yours. A fierce possessiveness filled your chest as you smirked up at your alpha, determining to show him exactly how much you wanted everything he’d said.
“Want you to breed me, alpha,” you begged on a moan, your hips rising up off the bed to meet the brutal thrusts of your mate. “Fill me up with your pups, daddy, please, I need it!” You held Steve’s gaze, letting him see the pleasure on your face, hear the genuineness of your words. 
You saw the moment Steve’s insecurity and guilt melted into desire and determination. His blue eyes darkened and his face twisted into a mask of sinful resolve. He looked like a fallen god, with his golden hair and tanned skin, framed perfectly in the little bit of morning light filtering in through the skylight above your bed. Your pussy clenched around his cock, fluttering as he thrust inside you, teasing your hole with his knot.
“Don’t worry, ‘mega,” Steve rumbled, ducking down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that left you gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead to yours, staring deep into your eyes. “We’re making a baby today.”
“Yes, alpha,” you cried, spreading your legs wider in an effort to let Steve fuck you deeper. He grinned, shifting his hands to your thighs and pushing them up against your chest, folding you in half and pounding you into the bed. 
“Gonna fill up your perfect cunt with all the seed in my balls, and if it doesn’t take today, ‘m gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing with my come—until your belly’s bulging with it,” Steve growled, rutting into you with a ferociousness you never would’ve expected from your sweet alpha neighbor. But Steve’s sweetness was never far from the surface, and he proved it by lowering his voice to a deep rumble that you felt in your belly, asking, “Mm, ’s that what you want, baby, want daddy to give you a pup?”
You were pinned beneath Steve, his cock fucking you so hard, your room was filing with the wet squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and the sharp rhythm of your alpha’s thighs slapping against your own. But still, it was his words that seemed to have the most effect on you, turning you into a writhing, needy creature who’d only be satisfied when Steve emptied his balls deep in your cunt. 
“Yes, alpha,” you cried, your fingers clinging to Steve’s shoulders, digging into his warm, golden skin while he fucked you into oblivion. “Want you to knock me up, wanna give you a pup, wanna grow big and round with your child and feed you both from my milky tits,” you babbled, throwing your head back and screaming when Steve’s cock hit against your cervix, pleasure and pain swirling like an inferno in your body. “Please, daddy, god, I need it, I need it—knot me, breed, me, Steve, please!” 
“Baby,” Steve groaned, capturing your lips in another kiss while he rutted into you faster and harder, his knot pressing against your tight hole with every thrust and teasing you with the stretch of it. “You’re gonna get a pup, alright,” he growled when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours. “You’re gonna pop out a kid for me and then I’m gonna fill you right back up.” Steve moaned, his body shuddering and you knew he was close. “Wanna watch you bounce on my cock with your belly ripe and swollen with my pups, your tits heavy with milk—the prettiest mommy and mate an alpha could ask for.” 
“Steve,” you sobbed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to hold him close, kissing him and thrusting your hips up to meet his. “Please, make me a mommy, alpha—wanna be a mommy, please, daddy, daddy, please!” Then your lips were too preoccupied with Steve’s, kissing him messily in between desperate moans while he fucked you hard and fast. 
Finally, Steve pulled back and thrust forward with so much power, his knot pushed inside your tight cunt and you screamed in pleasure, the feeling of his thick bulge stretching your tight hole sending you over the edge into the most earth-shattering release you’d felt in your life. It was a transcendental experience, coming on your mate’s cock, your alpha surrounding you and filling you up in every way possible.
As your body squeezed Steve’s cock, he groaned loudly in your ear, burying his face in your neck while his hips stuttered against yours, trying to fuck you with his knot but unable to move because your bodies were locked so tightly together. Then, with a moan of, “my mate,” you felt the moment Steve began to come. His cock twitched deep inside your cunt, a warmth filling you as he shot rope after rope of come against your cervix, filling your womb.
For a long time, the two of you stayed locked together, riding out your releases in each other’s embrace. Giggles and moans filled the room, each of you kissing the other wherever you could reach while you basked in your pleasure together. You breathed in the scent of Steve, your lips dragging up and down the column of his throat while he kissed your neck and shoulder and just beneath your ear, making you shiver. 
Eventually, when the squeezing of your cunt was reduced to a flutter and your body had milked every last drop of seed from Steve’s cock, the two of you settled. Your heat had abated for the moment. Though need still burned low in the core of your body, reminding you it wasn’t over just yet. 
But you had a bit of a respite, and you took the time to revel in you newfound mate. Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, which was flushed pink with pleasure.
You felt Steve’s smile against your skin and then he was rising up so you could see the full blush that tinged your alpha’s cheeks. He looked so sweet and ruined, his blond hair a mess, his blue eyes bright with satisfaction, a deeply smug smile on his plump lips. 
“Feeling better, ‘mega?” he asked, though there was so much male satisfaction in his tone, you were certain he already knew the answer. 
Still, you liked seeing this side of Steve. Typically you didn’t like cocky alphas, but Steve looked so hot when he was confident, your pussy fluttered around his knot at the sight of his smirk.
“I am, daddy,” you said softly, smiling up at your alpha, enjoying the way his smirk deepened as you confirmed what he knew. You couldn’t help but stroke his ego a little more. “Now that you’re here to take care of me.”
Steve’s eyes softened and he pressed a heated kiss to your lips. “Good,” he said when he pulled away. Then his arms were wrapping around you and he rolled onto his back, dragging you with him until you were splayed across his broad chest, your bodies still locked together by his knot. 
It would deflate soon enough, but you reveled in the feeling while it lasted, snuggling into Steve’s arms. Sleep called to you, but Steve was still moving and you when you opened your eyes, you found him reaching for your stash of provisions on your bedside table.
“Gotta eat and hydrate, baby,” Steve murmured as he unwrapped a protein bar and began feeding it to you. Even though you were exhausted, you knew he was right and you let him feed you, only sitting up when it was time to gulp down some of the sports drink he offered you. “Good girl, ‘mega, doing so well for your alpha,” Steve said, praising you while you ate and drank.
When you were done, Steve tossed the empty wrappers and bottles back onto your bedside table and relaxed into the many pillows on your bed. You settled down on his chest, your body sated in every way possible, muscles going loose when your alpha began to purr. 
“Thank you, alpha,” you mumbled, the urge to sleep more insistent since you were fed. Steve’s hands smoothed down your back, tracing your spine lightly with his fingertips in a way that made you melt even further into him. 
“Don’t need to thank me,” he grumbled, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. “You’re my mate, ‘m gonna do everything I can to take care of you—and our kids.” He added the last bit like it was an afterthought, but you knew Steve meant it, and your heart warmed at his protectiveness. 
You smiled into Steve’s warm skin, nuzzling into his neck beneath his jaw, breathing in the scent of him—the scent of home—but his words made you remember something you should tell him. 
“Steve, ‘m on birth control,” you murmured sleepily, pressing a lazy kiss to the thick column of his neck. “Thought you should know.” You snorted a little, laughing at yourself for the silliness of your last statement, even though it was true.
The rumble of Steve’s purr changed as he chuckled, his strong arms tightening around your waist for a moment before he grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over your cooling bodies. “Figured, ‘mega,” he rumbled, his voice so warm, you could hear his smile. “Doesn’t mean ‘m gonna stop picturing you round with my pup, even if it’s a while before that happens.”
“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment, then pouted as you processed his words. “As long as it’s not a long while,” you muttered, hardly listening to what you were saying because you were so close to sleep.
Steve chuckled again, his hands squeezing you lightly. “It’ll be as long or as short as you want, baby,” he assured you in a gruff voice that was thick with just as much tiredness as yours. “I’d give you a pup today if I could.” 
You smiled, your heart filling with emotion, and pressed your lips to your alpha’s neck. You might’ve been exhausted, but it didn’t stop you from murmuring the words your heart urged you to say, “I love you, Steve.” 
Steve’s purr deepened, and he held you close, no hesitation in his voice when he said, “I love you, too.” Your alpha brushed a kiss to your cheek and smacked your ass very lightly. “Now rest, omega, we still have to get through the rest of your heat.”
You fell asleep with a smile on your face, feeling safe and protected and satisfied in the arms of your mate, your bodies still locked together by Steve’s knot. You never would’ve expected anything to come of your crush on your neighbor—and you never would’ve expected he’d be a perfect fit for your desires, let alone your mate. 
But, you knew the two of you were going to live a happy life together—and you couldn’t wait to spend every moment of it with the alpha next door.
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eddiesxangel · 6 months ago
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1-800-HOT-TO-GO | E.M
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Anonymous asked: Can i request a fic where either the reader reveals during a pizza and beers hangout she was a phone sex operator for a brief time and everyone is shocked and one of them jokingly asks if she was any good and she whispers something dirty in their ear and it changes their friendship
Cw: fem!reader, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk 1.7k words
“Come again?”
“I used to work a sex hotline,” you shrug like it was no big deal.
“No way,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”
You hear Steve and the others giggle around you, also in disbelief.
“Wanna bet?”
“Try me.” He wants to call your bluff because no way in hell did he not know this about you. You always were reserved when it came to talking about sex; you never had you seemed promiscuous.
You hold up your hand to your ear, pretending it is a phone, and Eddie follows your lead.
“Ring ring,” he giggles.
“Hello.” You changed the pitch of your voice to be more sultry.
“Hi,” he smirks.
“Can I get a name, handsome?”
“ Eddie”
“Mmmm, hi, Eddie. I’m Candy.”
“Candy?”
He breaks character, but you don’t.
“the boys say it’s because I’m so sweet.” You fake giggle.
“This is my first time calling. I’m not sure what to do here.”
“That’s okay, I’ll walk you through it… you want to get comfortable for me?”
Eddie looks around the room at the others, who are trying to stifle their giggles. This night was supposed to be chill, with pizza and beers. He wasn’t really sure how you all ended up here.
“I’m comfortable.” He says without actually moving.”
“I wish I could see; you sound so sexy.” You sigh.
Another giggle leaves Eddie’s lips because who is this person who’s taken over your body?
“Yeah? you wish you could see be, Dollface?” Playing into it more.
You lean in to whisper so only he can hear it this time. “oh yeah, big boy; I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me.” You sit back, take a loose tendril, twirl his hair around your finger, and watch Eddie’s eyes widen at what you just said.
“Oh-okay, that’s enough.” He chuckles, trying not to give away how turned on he just got. “I believe you!”
You sit back with a giggle and grab another slice of pizza like nothing just happened.
Everyone looked at you with shock.
Eddie quickly gets up and excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
“What did you say?!” Robin begs.
You shrug in response like it was another day at work… which it has been.
“Damn, is it hot in here?” Steve pops the collar of his shirt.
“You guys need to loosen up, my god.”
While you were still enjoying your pizza, Eddie was having a crisis. Never had he thought of you in that way until moments ago, listening to those filthy words slip from your lips.
“I bet your cock is already nice and hard for me. Such a good boy, I want you to fill me,” your words replayed in his mind while he tried to fight the blood rushing to his stiffening cock.
He can’t go back out there like this. Eddie splashed cold water on his face to try to snap him out of it, but it didn’t help.
A quick rap on the door startles Eddie out of his inner monologue.
“You okay, big boy? You’ve been in there fifteen minutes.” He hears you laugh from the other side.
Had it really been that long?
Eddie’s issue had not been resolved; in fact, it had worsened as he tried to push down the thought of you naked and spread out for him… talking to him like that.
“Yeah-I-uh- just a minute.” Eddie wanted to pull his hair out at how frustrated you had made him.
You were just pals, bubbies, amigos.
You weren’t attractive… were you?
Eddie never thought to look at you in that way; you’re just a friend, always had been, always will be… unless?
The more Eddie thought about it, the more he realized he did think your hair looked really pretty tonight. The way you always did your makeup really brought out your beautiful features…and when he got a whiff of your delicious perfume when you twirled his hair, he thought his.
“You sure?” You try to jiggle the door handle, but it’s locked.
“Shit,” Eddie curses under with breath.
“Come on, Ed, talk to me, please?”
You hear the lock unlatch and watch the doorknob slowly turn as Eddie pokes his head out.
“Hi,” he’s short and sounds a bit out of breath.
“I hope what I said didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
Ed saw the worried look in your eyes.
“No! Well, I mean, yes, but…no.”
“Yes, but no?”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. He didn’t see a way out of this. He stepped aside to let you in and shut the door behind you.
“Eddie?” You look up at him.
“Hm?”
His eyes snap to your concerned face.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a big deal! It did it all the time for work; I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. clearly, I overstepped a boundary-“
“You’re not the only one.”
“What do you mean?”
Eddie moves his strategically placed hands to reveal the tent formed in his jeans and watches as your face falls into amused shock.
You cup your mouth to stifle an unexpected giggle.
“That’s not the reaction a guy wants when he shows a girl how turned on he is.”
“I’m sorry, I just!-didn’t think?”
“It’s okay. I’m just trying to get rid of it, but it’s not going away.”
“You mean?”
“I’m waiting it out.”
“Oh, ok.” You nod awkwardly.
An awkward silence washes over the both of you as you try so hard not to stare at his crotch.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for your help if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I wasn’t!”
“Ok…”
Another very uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt, trying to do everything in your power so as not to look down.
“I um… I guess I’ll just.” You point to the door that he’s blocking.
“Uh. Ok,” he nods and steps to the side.
You close the door behind you but don’t leave. You lean against the door and take a deep breath, trying to make sense of the evening.
Why did the thought of turning Eddie on excite you? He’s a friend. Just a friend. I always had and always will be.
With a deep breath, you go to push yourself up off the door, but before you’re able to, you hear your name being moaned from the other side of the door.
You froze. You knew you should move, but your feet were locked in place. More heavy breaths and the sound of muffled moans seeped from under the door gap, and you pressed your ear to the door.
Eddie was jerking off because of you… and you liked it?
Eddie bit back screaming your name as he finally released himself into the bathroom tissue. Finally, he could return to rejoin everyone without being physically uncomfortable.
He discarded his release, tucked himself back in, washed his hands, and unlocked the door, but he was ambushed when you fell onto him when he went to open the door.
You let out a squeak as you lost your balance, falling into Eddie as the door was opened from under you.
“Woah,” Eddie catches you before you’re able to fall. His rage hands wrap around your biceps, gripping tightly to brace your fall.
“Were you spying on me?”
“Oh god, sorry” you’re so embarrassed. The whole evening has been one shit show. You scramble to find your fitting to create space between you and Eddie.
“You were spying on me!”
“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down.”
“You totally were spying on me!” He accused.
“You’re the one who moaned my name!” You defend.
Eddie’s cheeks reddened.
“You’re the one who said all those… things!” his hands flailed.
“You’re the one who egged it on!”
“So!”
“So?”
“Yeah, so!”
“Woah, guys, what’s going on here?” Steve pops his head around the corner.
“Nothing,” you both glare.
“Ohhhhhkayyyyyyyy,” Steve turns a heel and walks back to the kitchen to grab a drink.
“Eddie,” you sigh, “I don’t want to argue. This is dumb, and we can pretend it never happened.”
“We could, but I gotta know.”
“What’s that?”
“Did you like it?” He took a step closer, filling the gap between you.
“What?” You look up at him.
“I asked if you like listening to me?” he brushed your hair behind your shoulder.
You gulp, not expecting Eddie’s demeanour to switch on a dime.
“I… I don’t know?”
“I think you did, and you’re too scared to admit it.” You can smell him. He is so close to you.
“Eddie, what are you doing?” You watch as he leans in closer.
“Just trust me.” His hands find the back of your neck, pulling you close.
“Eddie?”
“Let me try something.”
“Kay,” you whisper.
Eddie’s lips graze yours ever so lightly before he presses them fully.
A million and one thoughts run through your mind as Eddie kisses you.
You blame the cheap beer for letting this happen. You blame the beer for liking it. You blame the beer for kissing him back. You blame the beer for the tongue slip and the beer for how you wanted to moan when he pulled away.
“Woah”
“Yea woah,” you repeated dumbly.
“um… did you like it?”
“Yeah… did you?”
“Yeah.”
“cool… now what?”
“go out with me,” Eddie states confidently.
“Like a date?”
“what else would it be?” He chuckles.
“I don’t know?” You shrug, embarrassed that Eddie is getting you all flustered.
“You’re cute when you don’t know what to say.” He smirks.
“I’m cute?” You never thought hearing Eddie say those words would send butterflies fluttering through your tummy.
Eddie doesn’t answer verbally; he leans in to kiss you again to confirm his statement.
“We should get back to the others.” You sigh as you pull away.
“You didn’t answer me.”
“You didn’t ask me anything.”
“Yes, I did. I asked you out.”
“No, you said go out with me. That’s a statement, not a question.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No,” Yes, you were totally messing with him.
“Will you go out on a date with me?”
“Just say yes! You’ve been gone for half an hour!” You hear Robin yell from the living room.
“Robin!” You hear Steve scold.
“What?”
You can’t help but laugh and can’t believe the next world’s coming out of your mouth.
“Okay, I’ll go out with you, Eddie.”
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ssweetleaf · 7 months ago
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babies.
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husband!steve harrington x wife!reader
summary: you finally tell steve that you’re ready for a baby.
includes: SMUT 18+, breeding kink, not really a daddy kink but he refers to himself as daddy lol, mating press, creampie, unprotected p in v
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
“Hang on— what did you say?”
Steve felt as if he was dreaming, completely delirious, struggling to stay on his feet when his knees started to buckle.
He clutched a quivering palm to his chest, as if in attempt to quell his heart, but nothing could sate the thick thumping that barrelled through his rib cage.
You smiled at him, a small, impish one that made his eyelids flutter and you stepped closer, smoothing your hands along his shoulders before resting upon the thickness of both biceps, squeezing only slightly— just for your benefit, of course.
You knew it was something he’d desperately wanted to hear for a long while, so you spoke slowly, hoping the few words you spoke would register properly.
Because this was real. Such a big step, something that Steve had always dreamt of, but you not quite. It took a good few years for you to succumb to the idea of raising kids; a pretty house and a small wedding— even a few cats roamed around your home, so you knew that something was missing, something you now wanted desperately in your life.
“I want to try for a baby, Steve.” You spoke, watching his doe eyes grow even rounder, little tears threatening to ebb while he felt all melty and gooey, moving forward to shakily cup your cheeks and bring you closer towards him.
Steve nuzzled his nose against yours, sighing out a big breath and sponging a sweet, chaste little kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I don’t know what to say, honey, I’m—” he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his thumbs lazily circling the apples of your cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy.”
So, the two of you fucked like rabbits— for hours and hours, multiple times a day, the mere feeling of his raw length inside you had you creaming around him in minutes, and it was much akin for Steve, the soft, gummy walls of your cunt squeezing around him with no barrier between the two of you.
It felt like heaven.
Steve had insisted that you both have sex as regular as you could, the need to have you pregnant, to make it stick, needed to be quenched, and you nodded along like the doting little wife you were.
“My pretty honey,” he cooed, pressing your knees firmly against your heaving chest, holding you in a mating press whilst he fucked his thick cock into your spasming pussy.
Sweat beaded along his hairline, breathless from his hard thrusts— he had already came inside of you three times that same day, however you knew he wouldn’t let up until he saw those two red lines that told him what he’d wanted to hear.
“Gotta give you my babies, don’t I, hon?” He uttered, moaning breathily into the stuffy air— his full, round balls smacking against your ass with every inward thrust, so full of cum and ready to breed. “Gotta be thorough now, baby— want you nice ‘n’ round.”
He was babbling, words slurring into something almost nonsensical— his pretty lips sponged at any piece of skin he could find, mouthing and suckling with a desperation that shone in his honeyed eyes.
Your pussy practically sucked him in, letting his ruddy tip nudge at the spot so deep inside you, that had you clenching and fluttering.
“Fuck, jus’ wanna be a daddy so bad,” he whined, “and once we have our first, we’ll have another, and another, and another— oh fuck.”
He was fisting the pillow underneath your head, muscles drawn tight, trying so hard to keep his eyes open and not let them flutter closed— trying hard to keep his eyes on you.
“But don’t worry, honey baby,” he sighed with a smile, still thrusting as deep as he could, his thumb moving to rub at your clit. “You’ll still be daddy’s best girl— daddy’s favourite, I’ll make sure of it.”
You whined. He was so filthy, so crude, as soon as his big dick would slip inside of you he’d be gone, so stupid, completely pussy drunk. Silly boy.
“You ready for it, hon?” He cooed, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, “ready for my cum, pretty girl?”
You nodded, uttering a small ‘yes, Stevie’ through a moan and a sigh, clenching hard and quivering around him, ready to cum yourself.
The sheer need to be filled had you delirious.
“Yeah, gonna fill you up— gonna put a sweet baby in that pretty tummy of yours,” he hummed, “that sound good?”
“Sounds s’good, Stevie,” you whined, struggling to keep hold of your legs, your limbs shaky when you tried to keep your knees pressed against you. “Wan’ it so bad, want your cum— want your babies.”
He nodded fervently, hair whipping in every which way, dick throbbing in you hotly, the taut veins pulsing with every inward thrust— so, so close and ready to burst.
“I know ya do, hon— you ready to take it? You ready to take another load, baby?” He whined, squeezing his eyes shut, thrusts turning sloppy and erratic, “I know you’re so full, can barely fit anymore cum inside this poor pussy, huh?”
“Can take it, Stevie,” you spoke, fluttering your lashes, your lips all pouty and pink, “promise.”
And with one, two, three thrusts, he stilled inside of you, so deep, tip kissing your cervix before shooting his thick, pearly ropes of cum inside you, hoping to fill you with his Harrington prodigy, to make all the babies he could wish for.
Steve kept your legs raised, pulling them from your chest to place above his shoulders, keeping your back arched.
“Gotta make sure it takes,” he whispered, stroking at your calf before pressing a little kiss to your ankle. “think this is the one, honey.”
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arpicityandneed · 1 month ago
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You, Me, and the King
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18+ f!reader. King bucky. Knight Steve. Queen reader. Dirty talk. polyship. light choking. creampie. Cuckolding. Voyeur!Steve.
~
If anyone noticed the visible bulge in the Steve's breeches they knew better than to say anything. The hefty sword he carried on his hip mixed with the deadly glare he gave everyone that passed by helped. They also knew better than to comment on the high pitched wails coming from the door Steve was guarding with his life. The new King and Queen were still on their honeymoon, locked away for days on end as they worked to fulfill their duty to the kingdom.
"J-James!"
He had you on your knees, your arms long since having given out as he thrusted into you. Every plap plap plap of his balls against your swollen clit echoed by the squelching of your pussy gobbling up his cock greedily. James pulled you up until his hand was around your throat, his hips never ceasing as he forced your back to arch. It made you squeal when he hit that special spot inside you. (Outside the door Steve had to clench his jaw and readjust his erection. He knew exactly what that sound meant, he heard it often enough now.)
You were usually quiet and shy, hiding at your King's side and whispering in his ear when you did have something to say. But every single time James got his cock in you, you couldn't help yourself. And your husband loved it.
"That's it my Queen. Let them, fuck, let him hear you sing for me." James let his scarred left arm wrap around you, his massive hand finding your clit easily as he fucked himself into your slick folds. You'd long since felt your own juices run down to your knees. You were sure James' balls were sticky as well.
"Please, James, I can't-" you sobbed as you came again, milking his thick shaft and making him curse.
"But you can, my love. Just a couple more. You have to if you're to give me an heir." He cooed at you, holding up your limp body as you tried to keep up with his endless stamina.
"Steve will lick you all better if you're sore later, promise." Your pussy tightened at the mention of your husband's head knight making James groan loud and filthy in your ear.
The man had grown up with your King, and you knew James trusted him more than he trusted anyone else. He'd even entrusted you to the blond. When your King was busy and you were aching, it was Steve who used his mouth and his fingers to make you feel all better. You'd even had him in your mouth when you felt bold. You wanted to practice, get better at pleasing your new husband. Steve always taught you so kindly knowing exactly what his King liked. You suspected they were more intimate than they let on and the thought made your pussy throb. But you'd never had Steves cock inside you. It was the one rule you had to follow. So when your husband mentions Steve you can't stop the embarrassed whimper that escapes you.
"I know, I know, you want his cock too." Your face burned at the truth of his words, and he laughed feeling your pussy get impossibly tight around him. "Just gotta let my cum all the way in your pretty tummy first. Gotta give me an hier."
"I'll be g-good, give you baby. Promise!" You knew Steve could hear every single word. Knew he'd be suckling on your clit later as he fucked James' cum back into you with his thick fingers when it leaked out. The very thought made you cum again, your fluttering walls dragging James along with you. He cursed, his grip tightening around your throat as his cock throbbed inside you.
"Take it my love, take every fucking drop-" He growled as he grabbed at the fat of your hip, using the leverage to fuck every spurt of cum deeper than the last.
When you both collapsed onto the bed, he cradled you to his chest kissing you slow and deep and drugging. You expected him to let you go to help you clean up a bit like he normally did. But he made no move to separate himself from you. You felt your cheeks heat once more when you realized why.
"James-" Your husband's icy blue eyes were locked onto where your bodies were joined, of the creamy mess he'd made of your pussy, but he seemed to know what you were asking if the smirk on his plump lips was anything to go by.
"Shh, just making sure it takes."
pt. 2
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luveline · 7 months ago
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hiiii if you’re still looking for remus centered requests, i rly liked your best friend steve giving reader a hickey and couldn’t help but think of Remus too! like him helping a shy reader not feel insecure about being the ‘inexperienced’ one of their friend group… by giving her some experience 👀💞? love ya lots!
love u thank u for requesting<3
—Remus gives you your first kiss, and then a little more than that. You know, between friends. fem, 1.2k
“Will anyone kiss me tonight, or shall I go unkissed, like some leper?” 
You laugh at Sirius’ drama. “It’s not so terrible,” you say, coming up the hallway behind him and James, your face bitten by the cold. 
“I know, my lovely little blueberry muffin,” Sirius croons, leaning back and prodding at your cheeks, the smell of cider stuck to him like a cloud, “how you remain unkissed is a mystery to me. Shall we fix that now?” 
Sirius is your friend, he doesn’t poke fun, but you flush nervously at his question. James grabs Sirius by the shoulders and yanks him away from you toward the kitchen, “Stop teasing!” 
“I’m not teasing! I would love to kiss you, sweetheart, just as soon as I can figure out which one of you is the real one,” Sirius says. 
Remus laughs and closes the front door, the last one in. He wraps his hand around your shoulders. “He’d be so lucky,” he says loudly, sending a sulking, pouting Sirius in the opposite direction, James on his tail in giggles promising to feed him some unbuttered toast if he doesn’t chill out. 
Remus’ arm falls behind your back. “Why does he act like that? Four drinks and he’s in love with everyone. He gets so urgent.” 
You confess slowly, “I can’t say I blame him. Sometimes… I wish someone would kiss me quite urgently, and I don’t even need to get drunk.”
“You do?” 
“Just because I’ve never had one doesn’t mean I don’t want one,” you say, “it’s really weird being the only one who doesn’t– who isn’t dating anyone.” You fluster at your confession, worried it’s too much to share, even while his thumb rubs affectionately into your shoulder. 
“I’m not dating anyone,” Remus says. 
“No, but, going for hookups and stuff–”
You falter as he laughs. “You want one night stands?” 
“No,” you say honestly, “but still. You’ve all done that stuff and I’m like, a twenty something loser.” 
“You listen to Sirius too much. You have an entire life to find someone to kiss you.” 
“I sort of want it now, though,” you say meekly. 
Remus laughs again, his arm wrapping tightly behind your back. You’ve both had a drink too, not tipsy like Sirius but the buzz of it perhaps the cause of your loosened tongue, and his easy touching, his teasing. He smiles down at you kindly, “You want a kiss, is that it?” he asks, “Sirius has upset you and a kiss will make it better?” 
You find you love the feeling of his chest pressed to yours, “I don’t know. It would be nice to have one just so he can stop talking about it.” 
He pulls you right into him and angles his face against yours like he’s going to kiss you, his laughing a soft warmth on the tip of your nose. “You want it right now?” he asks, his hand rubbing sweetly into your back. Layers of fabric feel useless; it’s like he’s caressing naked skin. 
“You can’t kiss me,” you say. 
“Why not?” 
“We’re friends.” 
“What’s a good kiss between friends?” He’s following your eyes, he knows all your tones, Remus wouldn’t play with you like this if he thought it wasn’t what you wanted.
“I won’t know how to do it,” you warn in a whisper, you’re reluctance clearly fading.  
“Well, you’re very pretty, so any bad kissing cancels out.” 
You bend into him as his arm pulls you up, your noses nearly touching, closing your eyes as he leans in. 
“You sure?” he asks. 
“Mm,” you hum, though he doesn’t kiss you until you nod. 
Your noses press together most of all, the strongest sensation, but then there’s heat as his lips part so slightly and press into yours. He kisses upward and you have the sense to keep pressing down, letting his soft kisses move you with him, like an ebbing wave. You take an instinctive step back and he pauses, until you attempt to kiss him again and prompt him into movement —he takes the lead. His hands grasp at your back like you’re water slipping through his fingers, letting a sound of pleasure filter from his lips into yours. 
It’s so peculiar. It’s like fireworks, like all the books and movies say, but it’s more. It’s so warm, and his lips are soft even as his kissing turns rougher, as he tilts his head to the side and his lips come apart against yours. Your hand climbs hesitantly against his side, then up, then stuck at the place just above his ribs. 
“Touch me,” he says gently, breaking the kiss as your breath comes fast, “wrap your arm around me, it’s alright.” 
“Am I hopeless?” you ask, placing your arm behind his shoulder and tipping back to see his face. 
He shakes his head, frowning, why is he frowning? “Hopeless?” he repeats. His hand comes up to your face, and that’s almost as bad as the kiss, the heat of his palm on your face and his thumb stroking over the slope of your cheek. He uses that movement to turn your head, and when he ducks in for another kiss, he murmurs, “No, I wouldn’t say hopeless,” the end of it lost on your lips. 
This kiss is rougher again. Your heart beats so loudly you can hear the thump of it in your ears as your eyes close and you attempt to fit a hundred wanted kisses into one. He just squeezes you close and returns your enthusiasm, until you can’t breathe, forced to hang your head over his shoulder as you pant for air. 
Remus kisses your neck. It’s a shock: you squirm at the sensation but let your head fall to the side as he does it again, not nearly as insistent as his lips had been on yours but something unsaid in the trail of his nose as it runs back up your neck and he kisses the skin below your ear. He slows, and slows, until he’s pulling away to stare at you. 
You lift yourself up, nonplussed. “I didn’t know it felt like that.” 
Remus shifts his hand from the side of your neck to the front, wiping at the marks of his kissing with his thumb where it wets your skin. “It doesn’t always.” He smiles at you with just a hint of smugness in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you want to know what a love bite feels like?” 
“Oi!” James calls from the kitchen. “What are you two doing?” 
You pull apart slowly from one another. You think he might’ve forgotten where you were, as did you. 
James catches the fall of Remus’ hand where it had been on your cheek and squints suspiciously. “What are you guys doing? I made toast.” 
You can’t look at him. Remus saves the day. “We’re looking for her earring.” 
“You won’t find it with the lights off.” He glares again with suspicion before turning back to the kitchen. “I didn’t even know she wore earrings,” he mutters. 
Remus gives you a sideways look. “Maybe I can show you what it feels like after?” he suggests, voice measured. 
“Between friends?” you ask. 
“No.” He puts his hand to the small of your back and gives you a gentle nudge down the hallway. “Not between friends.” 
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buckyalpine · 2 months ago
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18+ fluffy, smutty, utterly debauched thot. I'm saying sorry now: Imagine dating a grumpy, rugged, Mob Bucky. Everything about him is all dark and broody from his chiseled clenched jaw and tattooed skin to the permanent scowl on his face. Even in bed, he's only ever dominant, not that you mind at all. In fact you thrive off it, loving the way he takes full control, tossing you around like a ragdoll till he's covered in sweat and you're covered in his cu-
His mask never falls; he doesn't show his emotions or mercy to anyone. He didn't get the title of the Winter Soldier out of nowhere.
But then comes the day where he's especially wound up. A weapons deal turned into a shoot out. He shot everyone dead within minutes but it was still irritating. The side of his ribs stung from where bullets had grazed his skin. That was one out of a thousand things that were pissing him off.
You peeked into his office after Steve had already given you a heads up that your grumpy boyfriend was in a mood. He was sitting at his desk, nursing his third glass of scotch as you padded over wearing nothing but one of his shirts.
"You okay?" You slink onto his lap, your fingers carding through his dark, fluffy locks. He lets out something between a sigh and a growl, the line between his brows more prominent, nothing easing his stress.
"M'fine" He grunts, letting his hands settle onto your plush thighs, the feeling of your skin already starting to settle his frayed nerves. You hum, sitting in a comfortable silence while his fingers start to roam up to the buttons of your shirt. "C'mere pretty girl"
Normally when Bucky gets into this kind of mood, he wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and utterly ruin you until you're a moaning mess with his name and juices dripping from your lips. Your cheeks heat up as he moves to unbutton your shirt, his cock throbbing when he finds you're not wearing anything underneath. Your pretty bare breasts sit right in front of his face and his lips immediately seal around your peaked nipple, sucking while his tongue toys and swirls around like he wants to taste every bit of you.
Your breasts are so warm and soft, he chases more trying to pull more of your pebbled bud into his mouth, desperate and greedy. The longer he suckles, the more he starts to slip into an unfamiliar territory, his mind going blank, fully focused on how good you feel in his mouth. He was already so fucking tired and stressed, he needed this so bad.
You can tell something about him is different as his eyes flutter closed, his arms wrapping around your body to pull you closer. You continue to play with his hair, now massaging his scalp and he whines feeling your gentle ministrations. The soft sound catches you off guard; did your broody boyfriend who most of the city was scared of really just whine while sucking at your boobs?
"What is it baby boy" You ask hesitantly, cupping his scruffy cheek, your thumb caressing his beard. He starts to slip further, moving to give your other breast attention while leaning into your touch. You were the most precious thing in his life. He loved hearing the sound of your voice while he lost himself, letting out another whine at the pet name you called him.
Baby boy.
He liked that.
He was always taking care of 101 things and for once, it felt nice to have someone take care of him. He loves the way you cradle his head like a child, your body shielding him from the rest of the world while he was vulnerable. He'd never let go of himself before, not like this. Not where he was clinging onto you like a needy baby, not even warming his cock, just nursing from you as if your breasts were feeding him the sweetest milk-
Fuck.
His cock throbs at the thought.
He was already so need for you, if your boobs were full, there would be no coming back. He'd constantly be seeking you out, shamelessly taking from you. His subby, empty little brain starts to wander further. On the one hand, no other man should see you the way he does. On the other, he would give anything to prop you on the desk while he sits at the head of the table, letting the others watch what they can't have. Unbutton your blouse just like this, sucking your full breasts, letting your milk leak onto his beard. Fuck, he'd make a show of groaning at how sweet you tasted, licking his lips, not bothering to wipe the droplets that dribbled down his chin. His enemies would have to sit there with their dicks hard in their pants while he told you how you fed the baby and him so well-
How did his mind get here-
"Look at me baby, you okay?" Your voice and the way you speak to him only amplifies what he's already feeling. At this point, there's a mess in his slacks from his arousal, precum leaking, he tries to keep his mouth shut by feeling it full but he really can't hold back.
"Can I put a baby in you?" He looks up at you with puppy eyes, a flash of something vulnerable passing though when he finally pulls away to look at you. "Please?"
Your stomach clenches at the way he's peering up at you, his thick cock ready to break out of his pants, pressing against your soaked cunt.
Could you imagine how worked up he'd be? The second you nod, he's working at his pants to pull his leaky cock out and he's never been this way before. The man prides himself in being able to fuck like a demon and now he's scrambling to stuff his dick in you, 99% sure he's going to cum like a virgin the second his pink tip breeches your hole. This feeling is all new to him, his chest heaving when you sink down on him.
He doesn't hold back at soon as he's all the way in, heavy, full sack ready to pump you till your belly was nice and round. He loves to run his mouth when he's feral and being subby doesn't change a thing.
"Want you to be a mommy" He pants, biting his lip when he feels you clench at his words. All you can do is moan, already way too close to cumming, you've never had your boyfriend like this and it absolutely does something to you. He latches onto your neck to muffle his needy whimpers, a stark contrast to his usual deep grunts.
"Y-yeah baby? You want to make me a mommy?"
"Wanna drink from you, wan you to gimme your milk" He doesn't look at you when he says this, keeping his face hidden in your neck while his hips thrust upwards. Everything about him is sinful and nothing is more sinful than the fat cock that was currently running your pussy but here he was, shy like a child.
"You can have all the milk you want baby boy" You press a kiss to his forehead and that just about does it. I need this man to blow his load like it's his first time having sex. He doesn't have a clue what's come over him but he fully gives into it, overstimulating himself by ruttig up as much as he can so his cock is deep in your pussy.
"M'getting you pregnant" He moans between broken cries when he feels a second orgasm building up, frantically picking you up and laying you onto the table, jack hammering his cock in while you practically squirt. "Gonna-gonna cum again, take it angel, m'putting my baby in your tummy, m'giving you all my kids, oh fuckkk, need you to have my baby pretty girl, please"
I want him to keep his soft cock in you, whimpering when your walls squeeze the last drops of cum out. He can barely move, holding onto you as he sits back on his chair, sweat clinging onto his forehead.
"Feel better?" You coo, still letting him feel whatever he needs as he floats in a postorgasm haze.
"All cause of you" He holds you tight, his sensitive cock twitching at the thought of how much of his spend he's just filled you with, in about an hour, he's going to give you at least one more-
Sorry. I'm sorry.
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hello-sweetheart · 2 months ago
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Neat Freak
Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.
He’s a neat freak.
When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.
Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.
Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.
But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.
Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.
The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.
Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.
His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.
Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.
“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”
“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(
He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.
“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”
“I DID THREE.”
“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”
When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.
He just loves cleaning, okay?
Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.
When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.
It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.
“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.
“Fuck off.”
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unsteddie · 8 months ago
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Steve agrees to play npc parts for Eddie's big one shot that he's been planning forever, but only if Eddie will play basketball with him. So they meet Lucas and Max at the court in the park and Eddie will not shut up about everything.
It's hot, his shorts are rubbing his legs weird, the sun's too bright. Just in general being as annoying as possible. It doesn't bother Steve even a little, he's too busy being smug about getting Eddie into basketball shorts at all. Sure he was still wearing a band shirt, but the shorts were a win.
It starts pretty normal, Max is absolutely ripping them apart verbally and it's working weirdly well to balance out her actual basketball skills, which are nothing to write home about. Eddie whines everytime hes got to run up or down the court, but he does ok at controlling the ball and manages to catch it when Steve throws it to him.
Steve's being blocked by Lucas who's the same height now, and Max is running for Eddie and the ball. Steve's yelling at him to throw it, just aim for the net, and he does. He sinks it, the ball barely touches the rim. He shouts in victory and runs to Steve for a congratulatory kiss, losing the ball to Max, completely worth it.
Over the course of the next few minutes he sinks two more. Steve calls for a pause in the game and simply hands Eddie the ball and tells him to shoot. Another basket. He moves him farther back and Eddie makes it again. Eventually he's standing at the free throw line having scored 7 consecutive baskets and he looks at Steve in wonder and says
"hey, I think I'm good at this?"
Max and Lucas are losing their minds, Lucas is somewhere behind him saying "of course he's good at this." Over and over again.
Steve can't decide if he's more frustrated or charmed, but what he says is "what the fuck, we could have won the championship if you hadn't been a nerd."
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jewishrat420 · 11 months ago
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No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
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shushmal · 8 months ago
Text
There's an incredibly pretty girl at the front desk in Family Video, and Steve—Eddie's boyfriend of eight months—is leaning over the counter with a sly smile and half-lidded eyes.
Eddie pauses in the doorway, struck dumb for a moment as he takes in the scene, and then gleefully ducks down behind the nearest shelf.
"So tell me," Steve says, all low and intimate. "What kind of movie were you looking for?"
"Um," the girl says. She doesn't sound very enthusiastic—barely indulgent at best. Eddie wishes he could see, but any sight of him will ruin Steve's chances right now. He's got a pretty good mental picture though. "I really like those old black and white movies, the really glamorous ones, you know?"
"Oh, totally," Steve sighs, like he's swooning. "Like Cary Grant, Clarke Gabel?" Eddie can practically hear his smirk. "Katharine Hepburn? Ginger Rogers?"
"Oh, I love Ginger Rogers!"
"Really?" Steve says matching her excitement. "Well, you're just in luck! Robin here knows all about those old black and white movies, don't you Robin?"
Eddie presses a hand to his mouth to hide his snickering. Robin had looked like a hooked fish when he'd walked in, she's gotta be gaping stupidly right now. "Uuuh," he hears her mumbling, and tries not to snort too loud. "Y-Yeah, uh, golden age of Hollywood stuff, absolutely. I could? Show you where they are?"
"Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!" the girl says, her interest in the conversation now warmed by several degrees. Eddie is still a little in awe of how well his boyfriend can sniff out gay girls.
"I got the front here, Robin," Steve cuts in smoothly. "You ladies take your time, make sure you pick out a good one!"
Eddie waits another beat, listening at their footsteps shuffle away, before he pops up from behind the shelf. Steve, lighting up like a Christmas tree, beams at him.
"Am I a genius or what?" he whispers, grinning ear to ear.
"Your lesbian powers know no equal," Eddie says just as quietly, taking the girl's spot at the counter, leaning into Steve's space. Steve happily mirrors him, until they're tucked together, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It's Eddie's favorite place to be. "All hail Steve Harrington, blessid he, lesbian whisper. Come to aid all useless queers in the fight against singledom."
"Thank you, thank you," Steve says with an air of novel benevolence. "I promise to only use my powers for good."
"Dingus. Doofus."
They jump away from each other as if shocked. Robin glowers at them both, but the pretty girl behind her is giggling and standing way too close for friendly, just at Robin's elbow.
"Move it, lovebirds," she hisses as she rounds the desk. "I need to check Claire out."
"I think you already have," Steve says. His smile this time is down right evil.
Robin actually hisses at him, and hip checks him away from the register. Eddie does a bow, sweeping his arm out to give Claire the prime spot in front of the desk, before he turns back to Steve.
"My dear, if you could please," he simpers, all posh and nasally. "Show me to your finest, grossest horror movie, thank you my good sir."
"Ugh," Steve groans already heading off into the shelves, not waiting for Eddie to follow. "You're lucky I love you, Ed. Shit gives me nightmares."
"I know," Eddie sings, chasing him. "I love you too."
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