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ssweetleaf · 6 days
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I'm a Winner
Pairing: GatorxReader
Summary: You've heard rumors about Gator's abilities in the bedroom and you're curious. You can overlook his bumbling idiocy for an earth shattering orgasm.
18+ Only
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Your eyes started tracking him from the moment he walked in. Gator Tillman, cocky son of Roy Tillman who was known for being a jerk, an idiot, and the resident fuckboy. He moved with the swagger of a man who thought he ran the world. Which is exactly what he thought. He never missed a chance to tell people how he was the law. 
He pulled that stupid vape from his pocket, hitting it hard as he laughed at something Jimmy was saying. Jimmy, another douchebag if there ever was one. You’d made the mistake of hooking up with him for him to be gone before you’d even woken up. No note. No call. But you’d seen him at the bar that night, Susan hanging all over him while he pretended that he had no idea who you were. 
After fucking four of Stark County’s finest you had sworn off cops completely. But lately, you’d been thinking of bending that rule. Yeah, Gator Tillman ran his mouth, telling anyone who would listen how amazing he was in the sack. It was probably just that, all talk. But according to a couple of the girls, he was worth taking a ride. 
He chugged a beer as the men around him all chanted, finishing it off with a neanderthal thumping of chest that led to a loud belch. You grimaced. Maybe this plan wasn’t the best one. Maybe those girls had been exaggerating. After all, Roy Tillman owned this county. No one wanted to get on his or his son’s bad side. They could just be blowing smoke up your ass so it didn’t get back to Gator that they were talking shit about him. 
After Lacy Boggs had bragged about Gator fucking her in the back of his cop car after another one of Jimmy’s parties, you’d been intrigued. She’d claimed that he had worked her over so good that she couldn’t walk straight for a week. After Kelsey Stouts had renowned you with her story of giving him head to get out of a speeding ticket, saying she’d never been so turned on having a dick in her mouth, you’d been highly interested. 
What man had a dick so special that a woman came just from sucking him off? You’d found yourself suddenly paying special attention to the deputy sheriff. Sipping your coffee in the diner while he picked up his order, noticing how well he filled out those camo pants he loved so much. He’d leaned back, resting his elbows on the counter, lazily waiting for his food, and you’d noticed it wasn’t just the back of the pants he’d filled out. 
That was the moment you’d decided you needed to see for yourself. That was the moment you’d realized that Gator Tillman, while a piece of absolute shit, was a hell of a view from all angles. He wasn’t long term material but you weren’t looking for long term. You were simply looking for a good time with a man who might be able to show it to. Unlike the other worthless men in this town. 
Gator turned, his eyes locking onto yours from where you sat, on a stool at the counter in the kitchen. One eyebrow lifted along with one side of his mouth, his hand running over that slicked back hair. You ran your tongue over your upper lip, knowing he wouldn’t be able to ignore the gesture. And sure enough, here he came, like a dog scenting a bitch in heat. 
“I could feel your eyes on me,” he smirked, placing one hand on the counter next to you, invading your space to the point where you could smell the Axe body spray he’d clearly used far too much of. “Whatchu want, darling?”
“Sorry, officer. Is it a crime to look?” you challenged, tilting your head, biting back the urge to reach out and tug on the wild mass of chest hair that was escaping the top of his shirt. 
“It’s only a crime if I say it’s a crime.” His head dropped, lips so close you could smell the fruity tang on his breath of watermelon from that damn vape he always had in his pocket. “See something you like?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I’ve heard things…but I’m not sure if I should believe them or not.”
“You heard things? Well, I heard things too.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“I heard you got a thing for men in uniform,” he whispered. His hand fell on your knee and you allowed it, curious to see where this was going to go. After all, wasn’t this what you’d come here for tonight? “Let me guess. You been disappointed but you heard Gator can get your body exactly where it needs to be, didn’t you?”
His fingers slid under the edge of your skirt and you placed your hand over them, stopping him. Gator smirked, pulling hips lips between his teeth. 
“Pretty full of yourself, aren’t you?” you teased.
“You could be full of me too, mama. You know you want to. Just say the word. Jimmy’s got a spare room upstairs. This Gator wouldn’t mind exploring your wet swamp.”
A snort you couldn’t stop escaped and before you knew it, you were in hysterics. Gator looked confused and then offended, his hand disappearing from your leg as he straightened up, turning his head to each side, trying to regain his tough facade. His eyes darted around the room, daring anyone to say anything about you laughing at him. 
“I’m sorry…but do you really think that’s sexy? Referring to my vagina as a swamp?” you cackled. “Jesus, maybe those girls were overexaggerating. I thought you had game.”
“Oh, I got game honey,” he hissed angrily, his face suddenly in yours again, those hazel eyes dark as night. You swallowed hard, pulling back, laughter dying in your throat as you waited to see what he was going to do. Knowing the Tillman family, there was no threshold to what they were capable of when they were angry. “I got more game than Lebron James.”
“Okay…yeah. I’m sure you do. Must be a bad night for you or something.”
His hand came to your throat, his nose bumping yours, “You need a lesson in how to talk respectfully to authority. If you don’t have nothing to say, we might have to give that pretty little mouth something else to do.”
Heat flared between your thighs as he pushed against you, spreading you wide until you could feel pressed against you. Dampness was already spreading across your panties, your teeth biting down on your lower lip to keep you from whimpering in front of this entire party. Fuck. Why were you so turned on? You should be pushing this asshole off and telling him where to shove it. But the way he was looking at you, those eyes filled with promises of what he planned to do…you wanted it. 
Opening your eyes wide, you gave him the most innocent, doe eyed look you could manage. “Uh-oh, deputy. Have I been a bad girl? I guess you better punish me then so I can learn to be better.”
You enjoyed the way Gator’s eyes flickered in surprise, his cock reacting to your words, rigid and hard. You fought the urge to rub yourself against him, to relieve some of the ache that was already throbbing. You fucking needed this.
“Then get that sweet little ass upstairs.” His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “Last door on the right. Get on the bed and get on all fours. Lift that little skirt up for me and wait until I get there. And no touching yourself honey. I’ll know.”
Then he was gone. You gasped, blinking, finding him back over with his cop buddies, another beer in his hand. His eyes flickered to you and up the stairs. Not even knowing who the hell you were right now, you rose on shaky legs, making your way up the steps. 
No one stopped you. No one even seemed to be paying attention and if they were, they probably just assumed you were going to the bathroom. At the top of the landing, you made your way down the hallway, grabbing the doorknob to the last door on the right just like he’d said. 
Were you seriously going to do this? Were you really going to let Gator fucking Tillman order you around? For a second you considered just walking back down the stairs and out the door to your car. Let him be pissed when he got up here and found the room empty. Who in the hell did that guy think he was? God?
But that thought evaporated as fast as it came. You weren’t leaving. You were too invested now. You wanted to know if he could put his money where his mouth was. You wanted to know if that dick was as magical as the rumors said it was. And fuck, you wanted him to dominate the shit out of you. You wanted him to punish you. You wanted him to give you what you’d always craved but never had, what most of the boys in this town weren’t capable of. You wanted an earth shattering orgasm. You wanted to be walking funny for a week. You just hoped you weren’t getting your expectations up to have them shattered in disappointment because this guy could be all talk.
That fucking pick-up line. You snorted again thinking about it as you crawled onto the mattress. What woman would want her pussy to be compared to a swamp? Gross. Pressing your face into the mattress, you lifted your ass high, grasping the hem of your skirt and flipping it up. But dumb didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck, right? Only time would tell.
“Well, well, well…now if that ain’t the prettiest sight I ever did see. A woman showing some respect to authority, following an officer’s commands.”
Your pussy clenched, anticipation building at the sound of the door shutting, the lock clicking into place. The sound of cotton slipping over skin caressed your ears as he pulled his shirt off, a flash of green fabric in the corner of your vision. 
Each step toward the bed was a thud as his heavy combat boots hit the floor. You squirmed. Your desire building, your need pulsing through you like the rumbles of an earthquake. You’d never been so fucking turned on in your life and he hadn’t even touched you yet. God, he better live up to the hype.
“Mmm, now that’s a peach I’d like to sink my teeth in…”
He was right behind you now and you jumped when his hand came down upon your flesh with a loud smack. Gator treated the opposite cheek to the same treatment, eliciting a whimper from you. His hand wrapped around your thighs, yanking them further apart, spreading you wide. 
“My, my…” You gasped when his nose slid over your panties from the front to the back. “Damn darling, you smell just as sweet as you look. You taste just as good too?”
“Why don’t you put that mouth to good use and find out?” you teased, wiggling your ass back and forth for him, your need for him use his fingers, his tongue, his cock, fucking anything on you raging like an inferno. The heat was spreading over your skin until you were sure you would incinerate from it, nothing left but a pile of ashes on this bed. 
Another smack came at your words, this time to your pussy, the impact vibrating throughout your entire body. You cried out, rocking your hips backward, damn near begging this man to give you more. 
“Now, I thought we’d done and cleared this up, darling? It’s your mouth that needs something to do. Clearly you haven’t learned your less about talking back to your superiors.”
“I don’t work for you,” you snapped, unable to keep yourself from antagonizing him, wanting to push him over the edge, to push him to give you exactly what you wanted.
“Oh, well, I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’m here the law of this land,” he snarled, grabbing a fistful of your hair, lifting you up off the bed. “Tonight you do work for me and you can start by getting on your knees.”
Leaning forward, you batted your eyelashes, smirking with a tilt of your head, “Make me, officer.”
His lips pouted to the side, his hand coming to the back of his pants. You could tell he was more excited than aggravated at your challenge. Most girls probably didn’t have the balls to talk back to him, too scared of that last name he carried around. When he revealed it again, a pair of handcuffs dangled from his fingers. 
“Oh, we want to play like that? Alrighty then.” Roughly, he shoved you face first onto the bed. Pulling your arms behind you, you felt the cool metal snap around each wrist. “I can play like that.”
Not even waiting for your response, his fingers curled in your hair, tugging until you had no choice but to come off the bed, standing in front of him. Pulling again, he jerked your head so you were looking up at him. You gasped at the pain at your scalp and he used that opportunity to lick the inside of your mouth before pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking until it released with an audible pop. 
“Now, I said on your knees.”
His hand dropped to the top of your head, pressing you down until you had no other option if you didn’t want to rupture a vertebrae. Gator stood, considering you, his head tilting one way and then the other. With a movement so fast you barely knew it had happened, his hands pulled at your shirt, ripping the buttons. Swiping at the fabric, nothing was left to conceal you from him besides scraps of black lace.
“That’s better. Wanna admire those tits while I watch that mouth apologize for talking back.” His zipper made a soft hiss before his pants dropped around his ankles. Gator slid one hand into his boxer briefs, pulling out his already hard cock, showing you that what you thought you saw was no exaggeration. This man was hung. “Now open up for me, mama.”
Eager to find out if this cock was everything you’d been told, you opened wide. 
“Stick that tongue out for me. Oh…that’s a girl…”
He slapped the tip of his erection against your tongue a few times. You kept your mouth open as he slipped it inside, the tip running along each cheek. When his fist curled in your hair again, you worked to relax your throat, anticipating what was coming. 
And Gator did not disappoint. He fucked your face, sending his cock straight back to kiss your tonsils. You gagged, your nose nuzzled against the coarse hair at the base of him. But he didn’t relent, doing it again, and a third time, his sack hitting your chin with each hard thrust into your mouth. His groans and grunts created a soundtrack of meal pleasure while his cock left no inch of your throat untouched until you felt like he would reach your lungs. 
“Fuck, darling. That pretty little mouth is good for something other than being a smartass.” His hand eased in your hair, his other hand slipping along his length, pressing it against his stomach. “Gotta show the boys the same kind of love, now.”
You pressed your nose against the seam of his hip, dragging your tongue underneath. He hissed and you moaned, his sounds only furthering your desire. Your panties were absolutely soaked as you took first one and then the other of his testicles into your mouth, sucking and releasing with a loud pop. 
“You are a dirty little slut, aren’t ya honey? You like sucking dick, don’t you?”
A moan was the only answer you gave him, your tongue now dragging over the side of his cock. Fuck, you wanted your hands free so you could touch him. Taking his length in your mouth again, you moved over him, his hips rocking forward to meet you. 
“Look at me, honey. Yeah…fuck, you look so damn pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wrap your lips around it. Yeah, just like that…”
Tears streamed down your face as you took him as deeply as you could. You scraped your teeth gently over the sensitive skin and he jumped, growling before slamming to the back of your throat again in punishment. Just as his grunts were coming faster and you were sure he was close, he grabbed your hair, yanking you off him. 
“Now to see if you taste as sweet as you smell.”
Heaving you over his shoulder, he tossed you to the bed, grabbing onto your hands and hooking the chain of the handcuffs over the bedpost, effectively keeping you restrained. Gator kicked off his pants and his boots before climbing on the bed. He roughly yanked off your panties and then pressed your knees, leaving you spread before him. 
Lying on his stomach, he leaned in, inhaling deeply again, “Fuck, just like peaches. I’m telling ya. Now, you wanna see why all the girls talk about Gator, honey, because I’m gonna show ya.”
He didn’t just lick. He didn’t just suck. This man fucking feasted on you like you were a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving. You cried out, pulling at the handcuffs, your hips bucking up off the bed. Gator’s large hands landed on each of your thighs, pressing you down as he devoured. 
“Fuck, Gator. Jesus…oh my god…that’s so good…so fucking good…” you whimpered, your hands opening and closing in desperate to grab onto his head and grind yourself against him. But you couldn’t. This man had all the control. 
“Mmm…I told you, Gator knows his way around moist places, honey.”
Fuck. You hated that goddamn word. This man seriously had to come up with better descriptions for a woman’s pussy but not even that was enough to break you from the fucking ecstasy you were lost in as his tongue slid down, entering you. That glorious fucking nose, a nose that looked like it belonged on a Roman God continued to nuzzle deliciously over your clit as his tongue fucked you. 
Your body was fucking humming. Gator was playing you like a violin and you were loving every goddamn note. When two thick fingers slid into you, pumping hard while his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed his name, your thighs locking around his head. Your hips rocked up into him, your body desperately seeking sweet release. 
“I’m gonna…oh shit…oh god…Gator…”
“That’s right. Come for me, mama. Come all over Gator’s face.”
The tension within you coiled so tightly, you thought you would snap and then snap you did. With a scream so loud you were sure the entire party had heard, your orgasm crashed over you, your back bowing off the bed. 
“Jesus Christ…” you whimpered, collapsing.
“Mmm…” His lips pressed against your clit and you squeaked, jerking. “So fucking tasty.”
His chin glistened with your juices as he brought his two fingers to his mouth, slipping them inside, sucking the remains of your pleasure off. Your eyes fluttered closed, your body spent, completely wrecked after the most earth shattering orgasm of your goddamn life. The sound of foil tearing caught your attention and you opened your eyes to see Gator slipping a condom over his painfully hard cock.
“I ain’t done with you yet, mama.” Kneeling between your legs, he lifted one up, pressing it against his chest. “Gonna get nice and deep. I’m gonna hit places ain’t no other man ever hit.”
In one swift thrust, he entered you, stretching you, his cock filling you completely. Your eyes rolled back in your head, teeth clenched against the delicious burn. Gator did not wait for you to adjust to his size. He pounded into you, your skin slapping together harshly. 
Pressing forward, he bent your leg toward you with the weight of his chest. The next thrust sent him in so deeply that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. You cursed, gasping his name. 
“There it is…” he growled, rolling into you again and again, each time hitting a space that had you seeing fucking stars, planets, entire galaxies that you’d never explored but desperately wanted to.
“Jesus Gator…I’m gonna come again…I…so good…fuck…”
You wanted to grab his arms. You wanted to sink your fingers into that chest hair that was teasing you, tickling your nose. You wanted to rake your fingernails down his back. But you could do none of those things, the use of your hands taken from you.
A scream ripped from your throat as your second orgasm threatened to tear you apart. Gator didn’t cease his pace as your walls pulsed around him, pulling him deep. 
“That’s it…fuck yeah…I’m a winner…” he grunted, hips slamming into you again. “I’m a winner, honey.” Sweat trickled down his face. “I’m a…” His mouth opened wide, his body shaking as he stilled above you, riding out his own release. “Winner,” he gasped. “I’m a fucking winner.”
Your eyes went wide watching him and you bit down on your lip, thinking it would be a very bad idea to laugh at him right now. Maybe he was an idiot but if he could give you orgasms like that, you’d be willing to overlook a few flaws. 
“Those girls were right, weren’t they?” he demanded breathlessly. “Say it. Tell me they were right.”
“They were…they were right,” you breathed, struggling to catch your own breath. “You’re a winner, Gator.”
“Fucking right I am.”
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ssweetleaf · 6 days
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gator tillman masterlist 🐊
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🤍 indicates smut/sexual content
bleed. 🤍
gator uses his knife to show you who you belong to.
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
blurbs—
riding gator for the first time 🤍
perv!gator steals your used panties 🤍
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ssweetleaf · 6 days
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Gator's the kind of pervy who would take your used panties all the time, whether you know or not
YOU GET IT, ANON!!
SMUT 18+ below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Gator’s hands ruched up the delicate material, his callused hands a great contrast to your lacy panties— ones you had been wearing the other day, on one of the few little dates you had with him before throwing them in your washing hamper.
He’d taken you home after one particular drive-in date, walked you to your door like a gentleman, and you thought absolutely nothing of it when he asked you if he could quickly use your bathroom— a trusty toothpick lazily resting between his teeth, something that never failed to make you swoon.
You nodded and told him where your bathroom was and it was mere minutes before he came back, giving you a big smooch and a promise to call ya later.
Yeah. What a gentleman, you thought.
So, hours later, you hadn’t a clue what Gator was up to in the stuffy confines of his room, your used panties in his hand that he’d conveniently stole on his little trip to the washroom— his daddy sound asleep in the next room over and he willed to stifle his grunts and moans.
He brought your pretty panties to his nose, inhaling the sweet smell of your mound, nuzzling into the crotch of your panties, right where your pussy lips rested, a big hand wrapped around his swollen cock, pumping his fist up and down, up and down, squeezing the tip whenever he inhaled your scent.
“I know your game, baby,” he huffed, tilting his head back and sighing, just wishing it was your much smaller and softer hand instead of his own, “tryna act all innocent—shit!”
Little beads of pearlescent pre-cum dribbled from his slit, sliding along the cracks on his fingers and over his knuckles, messy and crude, he imagined you there with him, sucking him down your throat, no need for mess when you cleaned him up so nicely with your tongue.
“You’re a dirty girl really, I fuckin’ know it,” he used your panties to fold around his cock, using them like his personal flashlight, rutting his hips up into them fervently.
send me asks!
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ssweetleaf · 6 days
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hi i’m sophie! would i be able to request anything about riding gator for the first time? maybe he’s real big and you need some encouragement 🫣
SMUT 18+ below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Your thighs were flush against his, knees digging into the mattress, aching already from your constant hovering— not yet breaching the distance between you two because of how nervous you were. 
Gator’s cock was heavy against his stomach, twitching every so often, impossibly hard and ready, already leaking pearlescent little droplets of pre-cum that had you mindlessly salivating when you caught sight of it.
And it wasn’t that you weren’t turned on, you absolutely were— your slick arousal slipped down your thighs as proof, soaking his skin and your poor clit was throbbing, just begging for attention, like the mere touch of the rough pad of his thumb.
He was just so big.
“What is it, hon?” he hummed, a big hand reached out for you, smoothing against the supple skin of your ass as a sort of comfort. “Can see ya thinkin’ too hard.”
You bit the skin of your lip, casting your gaze downward, trying hard to keep the sight of Gator’s too big cock out of your vision.
“You’re just—” you hiccuped, hands slipping from his shoulders and making their way to your sides before he grabbed your wrists, keeping you there, wanting you to stay flush with him, to feel your skin on his and to quench his thirst for your touch. “Just so big.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, cocking a brow at you, trying hard and miserably failing to keep his smirk at bay.
“S’not funny, Gator— you might split me in half!” You pouted, smacking at his pec, huffing at the now constant pull at the corner of his lips.
“Baby, I’ve fucked you before, remember?” He mocked, hand still smoothing over your skin, your back this time.
“That’s different,” you whined, pout still prominent and you nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cheap cologne before sighing out. “M’scared I won’t be able to take you this way, daddy.”
Gator tried to ignore the jump of his cock from your little nickname for him, carding his fingers through your hair and shushing your silly thoughts of getting split in two.
“Of course you’ll be able to take me, honey,” he cooed, “you’re my best girl, remember? Ya always take me so well, even when I rough ya up a little.”
Your hips shifted at his words, cheeks searing in a flush, and the tip of his cock bumped at your clit from your movements, a soft whine escaping the confines of your throat at the act.
His voice was low, heavy on the shell of your ear.
“Daddy’ll guide ya, hon— no need to worry.”
send me asks/my inbox is open
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ssweetleaf · 6 days
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PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE send me requests (smut of course 🫦) I’m bored and I wanna write! 😤🤍
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ssweetleaf · 10 days
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punk!steve and cheerleader!reader 👁️🫦👁️
SMUT 18+ below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
You were pressed against the cloakroom wall, three of Steve’s spit-slick fingers scissoring crudely inside your cunt and your poor heart thumped at the mere thought of getting caught.
The pretty skirt of your cheer uniform was flipped up, thighs parted and shaky to accommodate his digits even deeper.
“Can’t resist me, can you, honey?” he was relentless with his teasing, even whilst you were in the midst of your lovely performance — you had practiced so hard too, but the countless little winks and suggestive stares the punk had sent you had made you clumsy and flustered.
Hell, you wanted to be angry at Steve — you really did, but the simple utterance he had made, the breathy good girl, it had your knees buckling. And however cliché, you were quite sure you’d lose your balance if it wasn’t for Steve’s tattooed hands grabbing at your thigh and circling your waist to keep you upright.
“Looked so good out there,” he cooed into your ear, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, ready to suckle on the soft skin there. “M’so proud of you, baby.”
You pouted, brattily kicking your foot against his hip.
“I wouldn’t have messed up if you didn’t— Oh!” Steve pursed his pretty lips against your pulse point, sucking the skin between his teeth and bruising the flesh, his knee knocking between your thighs, only aiding in pushing his fingers in even deeper, the rough pad of his thumb firm on your poor, throbbing clit.
“If I didn’t what?” He hummed, breathing through his nose, his warm breath fanned along the skin of your neck and collar bones, leaving you shivering and clutching at his leather jacket to stop yourself from floating away.
“I, I don’t—” you stuttered, mind turning blank, completely fuzzy from his attention, messy kisses fuelling the fire between your legs and you could feel the bulging outline of his cock through his black skinny jeans, causing your mouth to water pathetically. “Stevie, please.”
“There she is,” he cooed, trailing his kisses to the corner of your mouth before sponging a chaste one to your lips, the cold metal of his lip ring was prominent, and you rutted against his hand, so eager for more, to quench the thirst your pussy craved. “Been waitin’ for my subby girl all night.”
The few piercings that littered his face glistened with every turn of his head and you pressed the pad of your thumb to the little tattoo just above his cheekbone— the dark ink making you sigh and huff, so impossibly inebriated by his sheer prettiness, you felt your knees buckling.
“V’missed the taste of this pussy, hon,” he grinned, pulling his fingers from your clenching cunt before pressing them to his tongue, sucking crudely and licking up the arousal that slipped down his knuckles and in between his digits, “been waitin’ for more ever since I had you under the bleachers.”
send me asks/my inbox is open!
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ssweetleaf · 11 days
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currently thinking about steve lighting a cigarette before going down on his girl—
SMUT 18+ below
Situated between your thighs, he shuffled around on his tummy, reaching for his pack of cigs to pull one out— the quick flick of his thumb had the skin of your thighs flickering with light just for a short while until the flame died out.
Steve inhaled deeply, lips pursed around the filter and cheeks sucking inward as the smoke filled deep in his lungs, holding it for a beat or two before exhaling.
“Here, hon,” he spoke, taking one more short drag before reaching his arm out to place the cigarette between your lips, letting it dangle loosely from your mouth, careful not to take any puffs— Stevie didn’t like you taking on bad habits like that. “Look after that f’me.”
You nodded, eyes as wide as saucers at his effortless beauty, lashes fluttering down at him when he wrapped his arms around your thighs, tugging you closer before burying his face in your cunt, lips and tongue lolling over your pretty clit and sucking at your pussy lips, shaking his head from side to side in quick succession to feel your arousal everywhere— and he swallowed you down like a champ, in big gulps, breathing you in just like a cigarette.
Every so often he’d jut his chin up, fingers replacing where his mouth had been, curling two digits upwards, pouting his lips for you to place the ever burning ciggy between his lips to take a quick puff before indulging in your sweet mound once more.
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ssweetleaf · 12 days
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic
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modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader
Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.
disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,
NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve
word count — 6.0k words
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“So… what’s your favorite color?”
It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.
“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a type of blue.”
“You could’ve just said blue.”
“What’s the fun in that?”
You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.
Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.
And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.
Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.
And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.
Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.
“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.
“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”
When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.
Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…
“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.
Your eyes glimmer at the thought.
“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”
“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.
He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”
You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.
When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.
“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”
“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”
You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.
Finally, Steve pulls away.
“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”
“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”
And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.
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“So how’d it go?”
You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.
“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”
“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”
“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”
Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.
“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”
Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”
“Yeah, like cerulean.”
Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”
“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.
He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”
Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.
“Hello, hello.”
“Hey, Henry!”
You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.
“Hi, darlings.”
“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.
“I thought I was Number One.”
“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”
“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.
“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.
Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.
“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”
“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”
Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.
“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."
Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.
All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.
Let's just hope he keeps it.
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“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”
You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.
First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.
Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.
“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.
“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.
You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.
“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.
For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.
“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.
Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.
“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”
“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”
She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.
But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.
Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”
“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”
Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.
“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”
“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”
You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.
Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.
“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”
“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”
———
You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.
You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.
So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.
“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”
They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.
“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”
“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”
“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.
Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.
“…The very latest.”
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“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”
The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.
“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”
“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”
You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.
Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.
Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.
Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.
“Let’s go.”
You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.
Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.
But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.
———
THE NEXT WEEK
You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.
Steve comes home right when you finish.
“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”
“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”
Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.
“You…made this for me?”
“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”
Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.
“Oh,” you sniff.
“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”
“It’s fine.”
Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?
“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”
“It’s okay, Steve.”
“That came out so bad, I…”
“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”
“You’re crying…”
“I was chopping onions,” you point out.
You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.
“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.
“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”
“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.
You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.
Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.
“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”
You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.
The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.
“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”
“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”
“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”
He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.
“For the baby,” he whispers to you.
“For the baby,” you repeat after him.
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The day is here.
The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.
“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”
“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.
“Hand me a glass.”
Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.
SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?
Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.
Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.
“One…” you gulp.
“Two…” Steve joins in.
But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,
"Two and a half..."
It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.
“Three!” you two finally say together.
Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.
“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.
“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”
“No, I’ll look when you do.”
You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....
...cerulean blue. A baby boy.
“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”
“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”
And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.
It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.
And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.
You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.
It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.
Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.
"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."
"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."
“Our son.”
“Our son.”
———
“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”
It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.
But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.
He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.
“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”
“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.
Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.
Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.
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WEEK 38
An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…
Oh no, it’s happening.
You begin to panic.
“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”
“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.
“Get the hospital bag.”
“What?”
“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”
He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.
“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”
“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”
While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.
It rings for a long time before he picks up.
“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.
“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”
The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.
“HO-LY SHIT!”
*Click*. The line disconnects.
Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.
Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.
"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"
You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.
“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”
The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.
"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.
Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.
Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.
But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.
"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"
"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."
"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.
"That," Henry answers him.
---
"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."
The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.
“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”
“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.
“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”
He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.
“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”
“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.
“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”
“PUSH, PUSH!”
“PUSH, Honey!”
“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”
“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”
“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”
Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.
“0507, time of birth!"
“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”
Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.
You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.
“You did it, Honey.”
Everything happens so fast after that.
From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.
And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.
"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"
You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...
———
“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.
“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.
“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”
A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.
“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.
It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.
“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.
“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”
“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”
“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.
Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).
And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.
“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”
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You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.
Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.
Until Benny goes to sleep.
As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.
“Baby…” he moans into you.
“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”
He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.
“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”
“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”
———
“Fuck, right there, Steve…”
You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.
It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.
“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.
“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”
His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.
“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”
“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”
And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.
“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”
“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.
Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.
“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”
———
author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭
divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby
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ssweetleaf · 13 days
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projecting my own kinks here but the thought of messy tongue kissing with steve and/or eddie (taking turns!?!? bye) while they make you cum, absolutely sends me FERAL 👹
SMUT 18+ below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Your chest was heaving, mouth parted and ready for more messy kisses, your head craning to each boy’s mouths, taking turns in kissing them, your heart impossibly full and thumping in your chest.
It was Steve’s turn now, and with big hands, he cradled your face, thumbs mindlessly rubbing at your flushed cheeks before kissing you with an open mouth, his tongue slipping messily inside, running along your teeth and sucking your tongue between his swollen lips.
Eddie made himself busy, lighting up another joint he had rolled, inhaling the smoke with heavy lids while he watched the two of you— his cock was hard, bulging from under his jeans, bordering uncomfortable and he pushed the heel of his palm into his crotch to ease the pressure.
“Come on, Harrington, stop hogging her.” Eddie scowled, wrapping his fingers loosely around your neck as leverage to tug you towards him— a sharp smacking sound came from your lips when they broke away from the kiss.
“Such a greedy girl,” he hummed, licking a stripe up your cheek and pecking the corner of your mouth, “kissin’ two boys at the same time? Little slutty, don’t ya think, sweetheart?”
You whined, clutching at his jean jacket, moaning into his mouth when he pressed his lips against yours, gliding easily with the amount of spit that covered your pretty lips.
“She’s not slutty,” Steve scoffed, pulling you back towards him, pressing chaste little kisses along your cheeks and a small one to the tip of your nose. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, honey? Jus’ wanna make us feel good, don’t ya?”
You nodded, your poor clit throbbing at his cooing, fluttering your lashes up at him as if butter wouldn’t melt, nuzzling your nose into his cheek at his continued kisses.
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ssweetleaf · 14 days
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💌 send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 💗 <33
WHY DIDNT I SEE THIS BEFORE???? thank you bby, you’re the sweetest (literally) ilyyyy 🤍
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ssweetleaf · 14 days
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Get attacked!! ✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈
my lovely kara, my heart is MASSIVE rn. thank you bby, right back at you <33
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ssweetleaf · 14 days
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do u still write for cillian characters??
sadly, i think I’ve lost my inspo to write for cillian characters, but hopefully it’ll come back soon, because i still love him!! 😩
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ssweetleaf · 14 days
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Hi! I know you don’t really write for Tommy anymore, but I was wondering if you would ever consider writing a part 2 for Dark Blue? The one about Finn’s girlfriend.
hopefully sometime in the future I’ll write a part two! thank you for being so interested in it, I’ve kind of lost inspo for cillian characters, but i hope it comes back soon. 🤍
thanks bby <33
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ssweetleaf · 14 days
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bleed.
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gator tillman x afab!reader
summary: gator uses his knife to show you who you belong to.
includes: SMUT 18+, dub-con, knife play, blood play, ownership kink???
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Gator’s mouth was hot on your neck, straddling your waist with those thick thighs of his, a steady palm weighing heavy on your chest as he kept you down and still.
His hunting knife glistened with every short flick of his wrist, the shiny metal winking at you, mocking you, and your chest heaved in anticipation of what was to come.
“You scared, hon?” He cooed, pouting down at your shaky form, all condescending and dripping with venom.
You gave him a short nod, blinking back a wave of tears that threatened to ebb over your lash line.
He clicked his tongue, grazing the skin of your cheek with his knuckles before pinching it between a thumb and forefinger.
“I ain’t gonna hurt you too bad, baby,” he cooed, pressing a short, spongy kiss to your forehead. “Jus’ gotta put you in your place, that’s all— show you who you belong to.”
Gator pushed the fabric of your shirt up, exposing the plush flesh of your tummy, the tip of his blade ran along the length of your skin, not yet harsh enough to break the skin, but enough to have you shivering and waiting for his next move.
He smoothed his free hand along your thigh, pushing them apart and groaning lowly at the sight of your panty-clad cunt, a wet spot evident, saturating the fabric and he grabbed at the elastic, tugging them upwards, watching with a lip between his teeth at the way your pussy lips enveloped the material.
Your poor clit throbbed, desperate for Gator’s attention and your thighs quivered from trying and failing to shut your legs, his knife so dangerously close to your pussy.
“Now,” he sighed, tapping at his chin in mock thought, fingers dancing idly up and down the skin of your thighs, creating goosebumps in their wake. “The question is, where do I cut you, pretty girl?”
You sucked in a sharp breath and it hitched in your throat, it was useless to try and hold in your tears anymore, the fat, salty droplets streamed down your cheeks, ruining the pretty makeup you spent so much time on just for him. But he thought you looked prettier like that, with your mascara streaming in long, black lines and your lipstick smeared along your cheek.
So pretty, he thought. Actin’ as if butter wouldn’t melt.
Gator caught sight of your hip, pulling your panties down to get to the soft skin beneath, trailing his thumb along the stretch marks and blemishes that resided there.
“Think I found the spot,” he hummed lazily, eyes hooded and he quickly reached in his pocket for his stupid vape, inhaling the artificial sweetness and exhaling into your direction, sugary sweet watermelon filled your senses, and you coughed a little when it made its way to your lungs.
He pocketed his beloved vape, shifting around on his knees, his free hand flat against your hip bone, stretching the skin a little and to keep you nice and steady. He didn’t want anything ruining his little masterpiece.
“You gonna be nice ‘n’ still f’me while I mark ya, honey?” He cooed, “don’t want ya wrigglin’ around, it’ll ruin my work.”
You let out a little sob, but nodded nonetheless, the action earning you a little kiss to your tummy, his chapped lips calming you for just a moment, before getting back into his character.
“Y’ready, baby?” Gator didn’t wait for a reply, instead he went straight in with his blade— the sharp edge sliced into your skin, droplets of blood rose to the surface, beginning to spill over the cut he had made.
You cried out at the sharp sting, head fuzzy and eyes completely glazed over from your salty tears, you managed to stay still, knowing that if you struggled it’d hurt much more.
“Shit, honey, look so good when y’bleedin’” he groaned, keeping a fixed gaze on your cuts, a steady hand guiding his knife slowly, drawing out the process for his pleasure. “Could just eat you right up.”
You gasped at his filthy words, your pussy clenching around nothing, arousal leaking through your underwear, completely saturating them and leaving them a sopping mess.
His eyes quickly flitted to yours before resuming his gaze at your hip.
“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya, dirty girl.” He grinned, finishing his last few etchings into your skin, the sharp blade stung as it sliced, but you almost missed its touch when he placed the knife on the nightstand.
Gator watched with big eyes, irises swarming darkly and he leaned down to nudge his nose against your hip, your blood smearing across his skin before he flattened his tongue, lapping up your sweet blood in long licks— he swallowed thickly, grinning up at your with lazy, hooded eyes, blood between his teeth and the cracks in his lips. So obscene.
“Well?” He cocked an eyebrow, “aren’t ya gonna take a look?”
You leaned on your elbows, craning your neck to get a good look at your new brand, eyes widening when you saw what he had etched upon your poor flesh.
There, still ebbing with blood were a scratchy pair of initials:
G.T.
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ssweetleaf · 21 days
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please please please send me smutty blurb requests for steve, kurt or gator— i need to quench my brain rot <3 😼
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ssweetleaf · 21 days
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Idk if you’re still taking Steve HC’s but an HC I have for sure is that Steve has a spitting kink. Absolutely. But specifically spitting in his girls mouth. Idk what it is about him?? Like esp since he to me would be so in to praise during sex but I think for him it would be more of like a I want to show you how good you taste after eating you out and he just thinks it’s so hot to spit in his girls mouth
SMUT below
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Steve’s mouth was eager, tongue lolling over your poor clit, whining into your heat with each passing lick and suck— soon burrying his nose between your folds, wanting the sweetness of your slick to cover all of him.
Breathy gasps escaped the confines of your throat and you fisted at his hair, eager for anything to help ground you.
“Mhm— taste so- so good, hon,” he gargled, speech muffled from your pussy, shaking his head from side to side, the crude slurping sounds filling the stuffy room. “Could eat this pretty pussy forever.”
He sighed into your heat, eyes rolling back dreamily, the mere idea of feasting on your cunt had him inebriated and his hips bucked into the mattress in attempt to quell the throbbing of his cock.
“Oh, Stevie,” you whined, tugging at his roots and raking your fingers over his scalp, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You weren’t entirely sure what you were thanking him for— probably because of how dumb you’d become from his tongue, you insisted whenever he feasted upon you, you’d let him know just how good you felt.
“My pleasure, honey,” he grinned into your cunt, eyes fixed on you, fluttering his pretty lashes while he sucked on your engorged clit. “Was thinkin’ bout it all day— couldn’t get any— any work done.”
He spoke between sucks and swallows, your sweet slick trickling down his throat and he slurped it up wantonly.
Steve pulled away before licking a fat stripe up the length of your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue.
“C’mere, hon,” he rose to his knees, straddling your naked hips and hooking a palm behind your neck, bringing you forward. “Wan’ you to taste yourself.”
The pad of his thumb stroked at your cheek, face inches away from yours as he let the spit gather in his mouth.
“Open up, sweet girl.”
You complied, flattening your tongue and opening your mouth wide, drool began to gather at the corners of your mouth and your pussy clenched around nothing.
Steve pursed his lips, his tongue gathering his spit and your arousal, keeping your jaw steady before spitting the mixture into your awaiting mouth— a long silver glob of spit falling onto your tongue and you greedily swallowed it down, the crudeness of it all making you feel fuzzy and warm, cheeks heating and head cloudy.
“There,” he grinned lazily, eyes hooded and glazed over, “don’t you taste so good, hon?”
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ssweetleaf · 1 month
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Older!Dilf!Steve Harrington x afab reader • Explicit content, minors do NOT interact!! • fic includes daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex • Steve’s in his forties, reader is ten-twenty years younger than him <3
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Steve’s lips were pressed to your cheek, his voice slightly taunting when he spoke… “It’s barely even in, angel, and you’re already shaking…?” Although he was right, you didn’t miss the subtle strain in his voice. For all of Steve’s bravado and talk of restraint, he was obviously struggling to control himself, too. He’d barely fit the first three inches of his cock inside you, but it already felt like you were stuffed full…
Steve curved his hips upward, forcing himself another two inches deeper inside you. The length of his cock was impressive, but it was his girth that had your eyes watering. You clenched your jaw and let Steve have you, trusting that he knew what was best for you. “Fuck, honey,” Steve marveled, his voice breathy. “Feel how she pushes back on me…?” His eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, one corner of his mouth turning up in a satisfied grin.
“Think I’m gonna have to break her in a little,” Steve murmured, his voice saccharine, thickened by lust. “Teach her a lesson or two…” He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, stroking your moist, spongy center with a firm but delicate pressure. “…Teach her that it’s rude to push back on her Daddy…To tell him no…”
You moaned softly as Steve sank his cock deeper still, at least six inches filling you at this point. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, panting against your hair. “You’re doin’ such a good job, princess,” Steve gently reminded you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His cock pulsed inside you, twitching against your plump, dewy walls.
Steve’s left hand palmed reassuringly up and down your back, his right hand cradling your neck. Your legs were wrapped around Steve’s waist as you sat in his lap, his belt and pants undone. Steve had pulled the crotch of your panties aside, pausing to rub the slippery fabric between his thumb and index finger, smiling to himself at your evident arousal. He’d pressed his pink, leaking tip inside the crotch of your panties, and let you rock back and forth over his erection awhile, slicking his cock in your cum, preparing it for yourself.
When Steve was satisfied that you were ready to take him, he’d held his cock by the base and maneuvered his tip so it was resting against your entrance, gently spreading your outer lips apart. With a reassuring kiss against your forehead, Steve had lowered you carefully onto his cock, trying his best not to hurt you. But fuck, you were so goddamn tight, so responsive to his touch, that Steve was struggling not to let his urges overtake him and bury himself to the balls inside you all at once.
He could feel your walls beginning to flutter and constrict around him; Steve knew you were getting close. “No no no,” he murmured at your cheek; you whimpered against his shoulder. “You’re not pushin’ me out, sweet girl, not yet.” Steve tightened his arms around you, securing you in place as your legs began to quiver at his sides. “Good girl,” he purred as your orgasm began to bloom. “That’s a good girl-go on, come as hard as you need to, baby; Daddy’s got you; you’re not goin’ anywhere…”
Even though Steve was right, you certainly felt like you were going to buck off his lap at any moment, your body wracked in a climax so intense, you may well have ended up injuring yourself if Steve hadn’t been holding you down. He remained still while you bounced up and down on his cock like a little bunny, your eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in your forehead contorted in a vivid expression of pleasure.
Every ounce of strength left your body during the orgasm, depleting you entirely and forcing you to hang limp as a rag doll against Steve’s chest for support. He smiled warmly down at you, tilting your chin up to face him. “Now it’s Daddy’s turn to come,” Steve said, his hands gliding down your sides. He secured your body by your hips as he fucked up into you. Every upward thrust of Steve’s cock buried him deeper and deeper inside you, your sopping cunt even slicker after coming, making it easier for Steve to take you.
His forehead fell to your shoulder, breath hot and moist as Steve panted against your tits. He bullied your grateful, exhausted cunt like his life depended on it, punching upward with so much force that his cock disappeared to his bush inside you. Steve locked his arms around your shoulders, gripping you snug against his chest as his body tensed all over. His grunts of exertion dissolved into a broken string of expletives as he emptied his release inside you. Warm, thick loads of semen coated your walls as Steve’s cock pulsed and pumped his ejaculate into you. A light sheen of sweat appeared all over his skin, highlighting Steve’s handsome features in the warm afterglow of his orgasm.
He licked his lips before taking your tongue as his possession, sucking and savoring it. Although Steve was rarely lost for words, he found it difficult in moments like this to describe all the emotions flooding through his heart, body, and mind. So rather than use his tongue to speak, Steve found another use for it. He lifted you off his lap, and gently placed you on your back. Settling himself between your thighs, Steve used his tongue to clean up the mess he’d made inside you, catching every last drop of his seed as it leaked warm and white from your precious, pouty cunt… 💖
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