Steve Harrington Would 100% Eat Your Pussy And Wouldnt Stop Even After You Came Multiple Times

steve harrington would 100% eat your pussy and wouldn’t stop even after you came multiple times

“stevie, please, it’s too much,” tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation. steve had made you cum six times already, five times from just his mouth. a new wave of tears fell when he detached his mouth and pushed two fingers deep inside you. “poor baby, can’t take it, huh?” he questioned mockingly. you looked down and god was he pretty. his pupils were blown from lust and his face shined from your juices, he looked irresistible. even though you were so tired, the sight of him made you weakly push his head back towards your core, his mouth instantly sucking at your clit. you squirmed on the bed as he fingered you, his fingers curling. you practically screamed when he reached your g-spot. “is that it? is that the spot that makes your brain go all fuzzy for me, baby?” he said after pulling away for a second but quickly diving back in. you could feel your seventh orgasm approaching fast, but even stronger than the rest. “s-steve, i’m gonna,” you could barely speak at this point but he knew exactly what you wanted. “c’mon, honey, let me feel it” his words were all you needed and you released instantly. “there it is, good girl” he praised as you finally squirted all over his hand and face. your whole body shook when he pulled his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your release. “that was so fucking hot.” this man would be the death of you.

HI GUYS IM BACK!!! send in requests for any stranger things or twd characters!!

it’s worth it, it’s divine

marc spector x female!reader

summary: when hathor said she’d help give you a push, you weren’t expecting to have marc, khonshu’s avatar, moaning underneath you by the end of the night. but you certainly aren’t complaining.

a/n: *gif is not mine, it’s from pinterest* YALL WHEN I GOT THIS IDEA, I KNEW I FUCKING HAD TO. is this a self-indulgent, highly niche concept? yes. but I also knew y’all would eat this shit up, so we’re going to enjoy this together. (partially inspired by marc calling layla baby in the finale, cause holy hell.) also, this is def canon divergent but it’s for the sake of the fic.

warnings: this shit rated: porn, lil' bit of plot in the beginning, +18, unprotected p in v, there’s the involvement of both khonshu and hathor but everything is consensual, mentions of masturbation, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), cowgirl, they’re both a switch, size kink, spit kink, edging, LOTS of dirty talk, marc has a sundress kink, over stimulation, orgasm denial, creampie, mentions of ovulation and the full moon (which I equated to making them both extremely horny, if that makes sense?) oh uh…they also have sex in the great pyramid

word count: 6.2k (of pure smut babyy)

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•••

You’re ovulating…

“…And that matters to me how?”

Hathor sighs dramatically, trailing behind you through the hall. The sand blocks form gradually around you, morphing and falling into place as you begin your descent into the pyramid.

It means that now is a perfect time, pardon my crudeness, for you to get laid. You haven’t had sex in months and because of that, you’ve been particularly annoying.

You stop dead in your tracks, turning a sharp heel at the goddess in shock. Grimacing at her, you watch her unwavering expression (because she really doesn’t care), before turning around with a huff and continuing on your way.

“I don’t remember part of our deal being you’d check up on my sex life, Hathor.”

What did you expect? I’m the goddess of fertility, women…pleasure. I’m just checking up on my avatar. You know, if you’d let me, I could help set you up with a suitor.

You groan. Hathor huffs deeply through her nose, her large snout making the noise that much louder, as she follows you into the main room. Quickly scanning the set-up of towering chairs, you note that not everyone has arrived yet (thankfully, because you really don’t need the other gods to listen in to this conversation) as you walk to your place. “For your information,” you bristle, “I get along just fine without you. I don’t need the goddess of love to help me.”

The fact that you haven’t had sex in months just proves that you, in fact, are not getting along fine.

“Fuck you,” you spit. Slumping in the granite chair, you look again at the other avatars. They’re all here now, silent and still in their seats; postures stoic and calm as they look forward to the middle of the room. They seem completely unbothered…indifferent like they haven’t been arguing with their avatars for the past half hour. That fact only irritates you more. You’re sure that all the gods are annoying in their own special ways, but you’re positive Horus doesn’t go off on his avatar for his abstinence.

So that’s just your luck.

And that’s when you realize, she hasn’t been talking to you. You realize that she’s gone. Hathor, much like the other gods, has disappeared into a cloud of sand and dust, meaning that from here on out they would be speaking through all of you.

It meant that everyone was here, and the meeting was about to begin.

It was definitely a weird sensation: feeling your body come to a stand-still as a voice, which isn’t yours, speaks to a room full of Ancient deities. And, it’s equally as weird watching others' eyes glow in the darkroom as they practically scream at each other. The humans, the avatars, on the other end are conscious yet not really present. All nine of your bodies are rendered into just that. Bodies. Nothing more, nothing less. Just conduits. Though, as you get settled in your seat—preparing yourself for the utter shit show that will be this Council gathering (because they always are)—you reason that you’re used to it now.

As annoying as it is to have the Egyptian goddess of women gab away about your cycles, you imagine that in comparison to the others, she’s probably the better one. At least the two of you can and do agree on most things. One of them is you both don’t really care for these meetings in any way. Hathor was a lot more civil; far more cool and collected than everyone else here. It's why she explained to you early on that she gave up trying to talk to the rest of them.

So, as other bodies were being continuously possessed, Hathor and you would just have conservations in your head. Other than when it was an important matter that she absolutely needed to give her opinion on, she was just as lost in the clouds as you were.

And that wasn’t all bad.

But today you just wanted her to possess you until the meeting was over. You didn’t want to give her the chance to talk to you about your sex life, or lack of it, anymore.

Because if you have to hear her say one more time that you’re fertile, you just might strangle yourself.

“Khonshu’s here,” you hear a voice—probably Osiris—whisper.

And that’s when he enters the room.

He no longer sports a look of confusion, as he’s far more accustomed to this entire operation. But, as he comes closer, and you are able to properly see the curve of his brow bone, it seems that he’s traded that confusion for something else. There’s an underlying intensity to him this time that you can’t quite pin. Dark brown eyes pass over everyone’s face until they’re stopping abruptly in your direction. You hold your breath. He keeps his gaze there for a few seconds before he’s forcibly dragging his eyes away from you, finding his place in the centre of the room.

Truly, the small interaction is harmless. It’s nothing to warrant a full-body reaction, regardless of the way you get light-headed.

But you assume Hathor has other plans. You don’t miss the way your spine straightens and the way your leg hooks itself over the other as your shoulders fall back. You feel yourself take slow, deep breaths and realize you are lightly puffing your chest out. The action feels involuntary, and you can’t imagine how ridiculous you look.

“What are you doing?”

What does it look like? Sending physical signals is how humans can tell whether or not someone is sexually interested in them.

“Who’s to say I’m interested in your friend's avatar like that?” You mumble.

Because I can sense your pulse. Your blood is boiling, —.

You let out your breath, shaking your head back and forth until you feel you’ve finally regained control of your body. Osiris then stands up, greets all of you, and turns his attention to Marc.

When your eyes trail down to the man in question, you don’t expect to meet his stare. But you do. And he clearly doesn’t care that you’ve caught him looking at you. He’s entirely unapologetic in the way he stares; sharp eyes roaming over your body nonchalantly before clenching his jaw and rolling his shoulders.

Good God.

Slowly, he gives his attention to your counterpart, as does everyone else in the room, but you can’t dare look away from him. He flexes his hand then. Whether it’s subconscious or intentional you don’t know. But regardless, you watch on as warm tanned skin tightens with each movement until the vein at his wrist is exposed to you.

You feel your entire lower half flutter at the action.

Told you so, Hathor purrs.

•

It’s like that for the entire meeting: Hathor drops the occasional comment, voice echoing in your thoughts as flashes of Marc naked subconsciously pass by your vision. Which, part of you is convinced she has something to do with that—a petty way to prove her point. To make you squirm as she distantly laughs at you.

You attempted multiple times to distract yourself. To focus on anything other than his booming voice, and the broadness of his shoulders. Except, every time you’ve managed to trick your brain into thinking about something—anything—else, her incessant voice comes back.

Oh yeah, you definitely need to get laid.

She taunts you in the way a best friend or a close cousin would. Usually, it can be actually quite endearing, but right now it just pisses you off. Because the way she taunts you now is her way of saying, you can’t lie to me. You can’t hide from me.

Unfortunately, the more you think about it though, the more you realize that the goddess isn’t entirely wrong. You can’t lie to her. You’ve been particularly high-strung lately. So much so, that any average human could tell your change in mood. It’s aggravating, to say the least, and part of it is in fact Marc’s fault.

This is the third council meeting he’s been forced to attend, so you have been able to talk to him. You talk to him quite frequently, actually. It all started out of the pity you felt for a guy who clearly was in way over his head. Before, during and after his visits the two of you would talk for a bit. About anything and everything. Sometimes you would talk to him in passing, and others would go on for more than an hour.

During the past couple of weeks, you came to realize how truly nice Marc was. He had some major issues to sort through, but still, he was kind. His smile was genuine, and that too was something you didn’t need to be a god or goddess to see.

Within this short time, you also came to the realization that you do like Marc and his company. You really do. But it’s because of all these factors and the way you’re so comfortable around him, that your current situation has become his fault.

Marc is to blame for your mess of emotions because everything he does is incredibly sexy. The man stares at you. All the time. Much like today, every time he walks into the pyramid, he looks at you. Whether that’s directly catching your eye as you pass each other, or him searching for the symbol of Hathor above your chair until he settled on you.

Strangely, the last two times he’s been in here, it almost seems as though he’s looking for you.

It’s a silly notion, but one that excites you. Because it’s true that you haven’t had sex in months. No one—other than your trusty vibrator—has piqued your interest, even remotely. So, yes, you have been quite lonely. Up until a couple weeks ago, that is, when Marc showed up in tight black jeans, and a tousled mess of black curls.

You nearly fainted at the sight of him.

But, it wasn’t until the second time you saw him when he remembered your name and purposely made conversation with you after the meeting, that made you want to touch yourself at the thought of him.

Although you wouldn’t be opposed to just shoving his hand in between your legs either.

Whatever comes first, you suppose.

“Hey,” Marc calls out to you. His voice snaps you out of your trance, and it’s at that point you’ve realized everyone has left.

Everyone except you and Marc. Your mind races at that thought.

You offer him a small smile in response.

This is your chance, —. Don’t fuck this up. You two better have sex because I can’t stand the sound of that fucking machine anymore.

Shut. Up.

You hold yourself back from verbally snapping at her as you stand to greet him in the middle of the steps. “How’s everything going with you?”

Really? That’s how we’re starting the conversation? On Horus’ eye, this has to be the most pathetic exchange I’ve ever heard. Just—just give me control. Just a little bit. Let me set this up for you.

Rolling your eyes, you pinch yourself in hopes she’ll feel it. Maybe then she’d get the idea to shut the fuck up.

She doesn’t.

“It’s going,” Marc says with a shrug, taking a final step between you. He towers over you, eyes cast down with that same intensity from earlier. But then his head is snapping to the space behind him and he nearly growls.

The sound shoots right down to your cunt.

“…Khonshu being a bitch?”

He laughs at that, bright white teeth flash beneath his smile. “When is he not.”

You laugh back at him until the air clears and becomes deathly silent. Something feels different. It’s not awkward, but not calm either. It feels…like trepidation. Like there’s a blockade that attempts to halt any further action either of you may consider. Except, that blockade does nothing to hinder the electricity between the two of you. It’s a tension that holds your body hostage: frozen in place with no sign of escape. Not that you would really want to. Because it’s such an addictive feeling.

He doesn’t say anything to further the conversation. He just stares. Like he always does. Deep-set eyes stuck on your face. He’s lost in his head, probably at the mercy of his god, yet he manages to still be very much focused on you.

Just kiss him. Do it. Do something for the love of—

Marc takes a hold of your hips and pulls you into his body as a large hand comes up to grip the back of your head. Gently tugging on your hair, he holds you there for a moment, almost as though he’s waiting for your permission to continue. The whole thing happens in seconds. But once your mind catches up with the rest of you, you slowly open your mouth, offering a gentle uptick of your lips to him. And that act alone gives him all the incentive he would need.

Still holding you in place, he slants his mouth against yours. Knuckles dig into your skull as he kisses you like a hungry animal.

Fucking finally.

The voice echoes in your head and you’re not too sure if it was you or Hathor, or both of you who had that thought. Not that it really matters. All you care about is your own reaction to him. How your body naturally opens itself to his presence; to the excitement of knowing what’s to come.

He groans into your mouth then, and you take note of how delicious the sound is. How it gives you goosebumps and makes your belly flip. Pulling him impossibly close to you by his belt loops, you walk back to your chair only stopping when you feel the cool granite. You gasp at the contact, which Marc takes to his advantage: jamming his tongue down your throat, as his other hand caresses your chin.

It’s an aggressive yet loving juxtaposition. One that ignites something deep within you and forces you to paw at him desperately. Your hands glide over his shoulders, abdomen, hip bones…anything that you can touch as his mouth moves over the hollow of your throat.

He bites at the skin there, then soothingly licks at it. You lean backward, forcing your hips into his. He laughs. “You’re a needy little one, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, Marc, just…”

He stops, stands back and looks at you directly in the eye. “Just…what? You gotta use your words if you want anything, honey…”

You pause then, and something in the back of your mind snaps you back into focus. “Who says you’re the one in control…honey.”

There’s a moment where his eyes widen, and confusion flutters across his face briefly until you’re spinning the two of you around. Pushing him into the seat, you slowly kneel down in between his legs.

You don’t miss his sharp inhale. Giving him the sweetest look you can muster, you pout in his direction. “You wanna fuck my mouth?” Your voice is just above a whisper, but it’s strong, and you can tell how much you’ve rendered him speechless. Taking your pointer finger, you drag it up from his knee to his inner thigh, running the pad of it in circles into the fabric. He gasps through his teeth sharply, trying to hide the way he adjusts himself.

You pause. Then, you grin. “You like that?” You’re humming softly as your fingers expertly work the zipper of his jeans. You hook your thumbs on the front of his jeans, urging him to lift his body so you can pull his pants down.

His chest heaves, and you sit there for a moment—eyes flickering between his half-lidded ones and the tantalizing growing bulge in front of you. He’s gorgeous. A beautiful sculpture of a man that makes you incredibly dizzy. And incredibly desperate to give him head. It’s when his eyes cast downward at you, that you take action.

You relieve him of his underwear, hyper-aware of the way he springs free and hits the lower part of his stomach. You take his shaft in your hand and he hisses. There’s a bit of precum there, leaking from the tip. You take that to your advantage and use it to pump him a couple times, before gently licking at his throbbing cock.

Slowly, you ease the rest of it into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you go, pressing your tongue to the underside of it until you find the vein there. He’s groaning again; head thrown back as he white knuckles the chair you sat in only moments ago.

Swirling your tongue around him, you begin to bob your head in time with each stutter of his breathing. Taking your free hand, you pump him from the base, fingers teasing the tuft of curls there until he bucks up into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles. Sweat drips down his neck and disappears beneath the collar of his shirt as he tries to steady his hips. “You keep doing that, I just might cum in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

His gravelly voice nearly makes your eyes roll back into your head. It takes everything in you—and you mean everything—not to touch yourself then and there. You reason you could do it, it would be easy to slip your fingers through your folds; to fuck yourself on your own hand as you suck him dry.

But it’s when he sits up and pushes you off of him with a loud pop and a tendril of spit hanging off your lip, that you realize you wouldn’t have the time.

He wipes your lip, spreading your spit along the rest of your mouth as he holds your chin in place. Standing up to meet him, you feel the heavy weight of his dick against your stomach. It makes you hyper-focused on him and him alone; makes your body tremble as his cock twitches against you. The sensation reminds you that if you continue, you’d be able to feel him twitch inside you. You moan at the thought.

“As much as I’d love to see my cum spilling out of your mouth, I would much rather see it spill out of somewhere else.” He suddenly presses a hard thumb into your slit and you jolt, quickly grabbing his arms.

As his one hand strokes you—rubbing and flicking, gliding and pinching—his free arm wraps itself around your waist, propping up your knee ever-so-slightly, offering him better access to your core.

His nose presses right under your chin as your jaw falls slack; permanently open in a silent moan as he continues his ministrations. His knuckles press themselves into your clit, while rogue fingers ghost your entrance. Every time he flicks his wrist, changes his pressure, or even inhales the remaining scent of you on your neck, you feel yourself clench at nothing. Knees shaking with every throb of your pussy.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You moan, the sudden change of both of your attitudes adding to the tightening sensation in the pit of your stomach.

His fingers speed up, forcing your entire lower half to vibrate. If he wasn’t holding you, completely supporting you with his body weight; with the mere size of him, you’d have fallen over. Without a doubt.

He stops suddenly, fingers pushed right into your swollen puffy lips. From what you can see through half-lidded eyes, his eyes are dark; set on you as the frown on his face deepens. You whimper as he keeps his hand still. “I asked you a fucking question.”

Your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, nipples hardening every time they press against him. This is when you realize the dress you were wearing sits loosely at your hips, the entire top of it off; bra tossed somewhere with only your boobs exposed to his warm skin… It seems he’s lost his shirt as well.

“…When did you…?”

His finger plunges itself further, to the point where you feel a sharp pain as his nail pokes the sensitive flesh. “If you want us to stop that’s fine.”

“What? No, I…”

“Then answer the question, baby.” His warm lips wrap around the shell of your ear. “How does the goddess of love wanna be worshipped?”

You moan, rolling your hips against his hand. You don’t have the breadth, nor the voice to speak. But you’re close. So fucking close. You don’t want him to stop, you just want—need—him to continue.

But you especially want him lower. Want his head between your thighs and his cock buried to the hilt in your pussy.

You want him to the point where not even Hathor could break you out of your reality. To the point where she’d have to rip you off of him and physically drag you out of that goddamn pyramid.

You wonder where she is now.

Marc waits for a response. He knows you’ll speak, but he needs to hear you. He’s patient. Calculated. A cocky son of a bitch who wants to hear you beg. And you do. “Everywhere. Every way.” You pant out.

He smirks against your cheek. “Sounds fun.”

Letting go of his grip on you (much to your chagrin and the way you immediately ache for his fingers) he yanks the rest of your dress down. Then it’s his turn to kneel. To look up at you through thick eyelashes and admire your completely naked form.

Excitement sets in his glazed-over eyes as he brushes his lips and tongue over the bare skin of your stomach. Rough, calloused hands skim up the sides of your body until they fully encircle your boobs. He groans into the skin just below your belly button, fingers groping and kneading sensitive flesh.

“You’re fucking beautiful, ya know that? Been imagining this shit for weeks.” Another kiss, this time on your hip bone. Your pelvis lightly moves towards him, daring to reach that longed-for high that he denied you earlier. He plants a kiss on your other hip. “Been wanting to taste you ever since I saw you.”

In a flash he has you backed up against Hathor’s statue, left leg thrown over his shoulder as he dives in. That beautiful head of black curls you had fallen in love with on that first day, is now drenched in sweat as it nestles against your mound. And it makes you want to scream.

He takes your breath away instantly, tongue expertly moving against you: giving as much as taking. You are hypersensitive from the earlier assault of his fingers, so when he flattens his tongue against the area between your clit and your hole, your heel juts in between his shoulders.

That action incidentally forces him further into you, pushing his nose into the hooded part of your cunt. His eyes dart up to yours just in time to watch you let out a high-pitched moan; fingers weaving themselves through his hair, as your head falls back into the golden statue.

Meanwhile, your eyes find her sculpted ones as you look up. A laugh escapes you, though it sounds like it’s miles away. And she said you needed her help to get laid.

Like hell.

You were doing just fine. Just. Fucking. Fine.

Marc growls against you, and the vibration makes you snap. Sweat rolls down your forehead, vision going blurry as you aggressively fuck his face, holding him in place with the grip you have on his head. It’s coming. You feel it. That beautiful precipice.

You’re just…you’re right there.

Just--just a little…

He stops. You then feel a gust of cool air hit your hot cunt, and you frown at the man who sits on his knees, slick all over his nose and mouth. Dark brown eyes are blown as his lips glisten a bright red. The look, along with the way his dick stands painfully erect is torturous.

“Who said you could stop…” you grumble, throat sore and raw. He laughs, then drags two fingers through your folds, collecting some of your arousal. Standing up, he grips your head again—a wonderful habit he’s started—squeezes your cheeks until your mouth is open before shoving his fingers in.

Instinctually, you close your lips, cleaning his fingers as he slowly pulls them out to admire your work. “See how good you taste, baby? Fucking delicious.”

God, he makes you feral.

“I said,” you groan, licking your lips clean of anything that might’ve spilled out. “Who said you could stop?”

He leans down to you, so insanely close that you can smell yourself on him. He doesn’t even attempt to wipe his face. Just allows his chin to shine beneath the light of the torches and the open top of the pyramid. “I did,” he whispers. “Because the first time you cum, I want it to be on my cock.” He taps your lips absentmindedly. “Next time will be on my face. Promise.”

He grabs your hair and pushes it over your shoulder before taking a step forward. He has a plan. A very clear predetermined idea of how this exact moment is going to go down. But what he doesn’t know is you do too. Except you imagine your idea is far different from his.

You stop his efforts just when he uses his hand to brush his tip against the edge of your pussy. Splaying your palms on his shoulders, you push him down until he’s completely on his knees. He looks intrigued. Compliant in his actions as he settles himself. You make note of the little bed the two of you have made with the discarded clothing, and realize the two of you don’t have to go anywhere. Because this is perfect.

You’ll take him right here. Right now.

Lowering yourself to his level, you separate your legs until you’re straddling him. You don’t know what controls you in that very moment; what allows you to go slowly in the wake of your desire to just fucking cum already. To just grab hold and grind against him until you fall over the edge. But as you tease him, adjusting yourself in his grip as he flashes a wolffish grin, you realize that this is the reason. The tension. The build-up. You want him to submit to you. You want him to beg to fuck you after you’re done fucking him.

It drives you mad.

His hair falls in front of his eyes and you take the moment to tenderly brush it out of the way. He catches your wrist in midair, pulling it away from his head before placing a gentle kiss on your palm.

You smile at him. But then he shifts his hips and his cock slides along your incredibly wet seam, bringing you back to the current moment. “Fuck me,” he moans.

Grabbing hold of his hands, you place them on your chest before raising your pelvis until you’re just gliding along his shaft. Marc’s head falls backward with a particularly loud groan and you take the opportunity to suck at his collarbone. You move your hips back and forth slowly, spreading your slick all over him until he slips between you without much effort at all.

Your thighs tremble, and you nearly gush all over him at the heat of it all. He looks delirious, soft moans filling the empty room as he now grips the ground beneath the two of you.

You love him like this. Hard. Desperate. Aching for you.

He’s now the one to buck into you, trying to gain some other form of friction; a little more momentum to drive him to that release.

You leave open-mouthed kisses along his throat and jaw causing him to shudder beneath you. Your fingernails glide along his chest and down to his dick in continuous motions as he groans. Using your other hand, you shove him backward until he’s fully lying on his back. His jaw clenches; his eyes stay fixated on you and the way your chest heaves in anticipation. He waits. Albeit, he’s a little less patient than before.

And that’s when you think that you’re just as tired of waiting.

With your knees, you lift yourself up, just enough to guide his cock to your centre. You clench around the tip as it rests just…right there. And then, after what seems like hours, you’re sinking down on him.

You moan loudly, mouth wide open as you gasp for air. Your body adjusts to the feeling of being full; stuffed beyond capacity; beyond what you thought was possible.

Your hands, in an effort to brace yourself, set themselves on his lower abdomen while his hands end up finding the dip of your hip and the curve of your ass.

And then you’re moving. You start off slow as you get used to the feeling of him and the way you nearly lift off of him entirely before dropping yourself back on his cock. There’s a nagging heavy drag of the particular vein along the underside of his dick that runs over your velvety walls. The feeling robs you of any cohesive thought and instructs you to continue further. To feel the way he throbs inside you.

“Fuck, —, you—so fucking tight.” Marc grunts as you pick up your pace. You’ve begun to swivel your hips; alternating in different patterns as you ride him.

You’re both in the midst of testing the waters of what turns you on and what makes you just want to fuck him into oblivion. On a particular move, when your pelvis rolls forward and your clit rubs against the base of his shaft and the bit of hair there, your nails dig into him. He growls at you as his hands tighten their grip on your ass. “Such a tight. Fucking. Pussy,” he growls through gritted teeth.

And that’s when the proverbial match is lit.

Your skin feels like it’s on fire; burning up like an object re-entering the atmosphere. His touch scorches you, and his voice goads you on. Leaning backward, you grab ahold of his thighs and then start bouncing. Your moans have quickly turned into whimpers and breathy cries as your cunt sucks him in further.

At this point, Marc has equal control as you. He aides your hips in their steady, fast-paced rhythm, lifting his to meet yours. You’re not too sure if you’re still the one riding him, or if he’s just thrusting up into you. But at this point, you don’t care. Because your brain feels like mush. The only thing taking up residence in your thoughts is the sound of skin slapping against skin and the squelching of him fucking through your wetness. All of it, mixed with Marc’s raspy voice, makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

You’re so pent-up. So ready to finally cum because of someone and not something. To cum on Marc instead of your fucking vibrator.

You reason that if you were lucky enough, you would fuck him daily. Because this?

This was your field of reeds.

You’re so caught up in the way that coil tightens with each snap of his hips, that you hardly notice you’ve relinquished your power to him. He’s sitting up again, mumbling over and over in your ear: “fuck you feel so good. So good for me, honey.” He has your arms placed carefully around his neck as one hand sits in the middle of your back, and the other guides you’re ass up and down.

He’s moving at such a rapid speed, that you can’t keep up with anything. Your whole body feels numb as his cock moves in and out of you. In all honesty, you feel like you’re on the ancestral plane. Like you’re looking at yourself from the outside; like you can’t comprehend what is currently happening other than how fucking good your body feels.

“Fuck, Marc.” You cry. “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard.”

And it’s at that particular snap of his hips you let out a moan that even shocks you. You’ve never heard that come out of your mouth once before, in any scenario. But, then again, no one else, not even your collection of toys has touched that inner part of you before.

He’s practically hitting your cervix. In your measly attempt to try and still maintain dominance—to fervently ride him—you had shifted your knees further apart which only allowed for his cock to kiss the innermost point of you. “Right there…” you almost don’t recognize yourself or if you had even said anything. If it was all in your head or if you spoke it into existence.

Nonetheless, Marc listens to your reaction. Reevaluating his situation, he slams his hips up again, and when you nearly scream, he smirks to himself.

“You feel that, baby?” He’s unrelenting in his pace, rapid calculated thrusts as he continues piercing you on his cock. He takes your wrist and holds your hand right above your cunt near your navel. “You feel me, huh? Feel me right there?” Another snap. Another cry. “I’m so fucking deep, baby. Just—“ he grunts. “Just fucking up right into you. Bet no one else can do that. No one else fucks you this good. God, you’re gonna feel me for weeks.”

You do feel him in your stomach, fucking you with everything he has; splitting you in half as you hold on for dear life.

The tears are streaming down your face now; pooling at the base of your neck. You sniffle. “Please, Marc… I’m so fucking close.”

“I know, honey.” His fingers begin to slip as his hips gradually become sloppier. He’s losing his rhythm and you feel the way his cock bulges inside you.

He’s gonna cum. And fuck so are you.

Except, if you just let go—

“No.” He growls in your ear as he drives you down on his hips. “You aren’t fucking coming without me, got it?”

His demand is aggressive, and though it should deter you, it does the exact opposite. It just pulls even harder on the end of the rope that ties itself in knots.

“Marc…” you whine.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair he yanks your head backwards until your eyes are directly in line with the open sky a couple hundred feet above you. “I’m right there, baby. Just—hold on for just a little bit longer. I know you can. You’re a good girl.” Another harsh thrust. “You can do it.”

You shake your head rapidly. “Fucking wait.” He spits, paying his attention to where your bodies connect; on how red and angry and fucking wet his cock is as it pistons into you.

Your hands flail, grasping onto anything they can, as you hold your orgasm in. Biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, you try to steady your breathing. He told you to wait. But fuck, you don’t think you can. Because you really are right there. That deliciously painful knot is so taut, that it threatens to rip itself apart at the thread.

“Fuck, Marc!” With a quick repositioning of his hold on you, he slams your hips down onto his, holding you down as he lets loose inside you.

His thrusts are erratic and messy as he groans. “Come on, pretty girl. Go ahead. Cum.”

It’s that sole command that opens the gates. The coil, on cue, snaps and you scream. It’s a blood-curdling, wall-shaking scream that echoes throughout the pyramid. The sound is so loud, you’re sure that half of Cairo can hear you; can hear you being fucked silly by Marc fucking Spector. The pounding of blood in your ears goes away as the upper half of your body falls backwards. Knees lock around Marc as your sight goes white.

With a loud groan, Marc takes hold of your body, flips you over so that you’re on your back, then fucks you through his own orgasm. Your walls squeeze him as he cums, fluttering around his throbbing cock as he stuffs himself into you.

You can feel the warmth in your lower half, regardless of all your senses having disappeared. Marc spills into you, slowly fucking his seed further into you as he comes down from his high.

The edges of your vision slowly dissipate back into the same indigo colour as the desert sky. It’s a beautiful sight that adorns the top of the pyramid and helps guide you through the final waves of your orgasm. The full moon glitters against the backdrop of stars (though you’re convinced your high added a couple extra white dots), and radiates downward.

Marc falls on top of you, his hot breath trailing over your shoulder and neck as he presses kisses to the area beneath your ear. His hands run tenderly all across the skin of your body, much like he’s stuck in a trance. A product of your shared euphoria—too caught up in the strength of your orgasms to truly understand what you’re doing, what you’re saying or thinking.

Your head then lolls to the side, only to see Hathor walk into the main room through the far corner doorway.

She stands there and looks at you, with her hands on her hips and a devilish smile on her face

Took you long enough.

•••

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thinking.. thoughts.. about.. eddie.. lifting your skirt up and pulling the front of your panties down slightly, just enough to get a peek at your lil mound, taking his cock out of his jeans and putting just the head inside of the soft cotton fabric. he starts stroking the thick shaft, all you can do is just stand there and squirm as you watch his precum leak inside your panties. your own wetness creates a small damp patch, only adding on to the mess being created. eddie is groaning in your ear as hes hunched over your small figure, and you can hear that hes getting close. his breathing is getting quicker and he gets rougher with his strokes, until suddenly you start to feel something warm and thick seep into your panties. his cum gets all over your swollen clit and puffy lips. and once he gets over the intensity of his orgasm, all eddie does is admire his work before pulling your panties back up and fixing your skirt.

whining crying biting my fist punching the air

he does it because its dirty and eddie loves dirty things. specially when you bat your lashes n say "m'sore." from the harsh pounding he'd given you last night. there's a nice dent in his wall from his headboard because of it.

"that's alright, sweetheart, m'gonna give her a break, yeah? let her restore her mana." he smiles at you, fond, gently patting your throbbing pussy through your panties. its all you're wearing besides his shirt. "can get off in other ways, easy peasy."

you blink at him. "how? dont want you to get off without me...."

his eyes twinkle at your little pout. "not without you. I'll show you. here, lift up your shirt for me- thatta girl." his praise makes you tingle as you grab his shirt in your hands and lift it, up over your tummy until your tits fall free. his eyes darken and he reaches down to cup himself over his pants. grips himself and shuffles closer to you. "all you gotta do-" he breathes, hand dipping into his jeans to tug out his flushed cock. already dripping at the fat tip. "-is stand still and look pretty."

you tighten your hold on the fabric as you peer down your body where hes nudging his cock between your legs. he leaves a wet smear over your panties with his leaking head, before hes tugging those down, just a little, to fit the shape of his wark cock into the mold of your cunt. you gasp when his hot flesh hits your abused pussy and he hisses.

"did a number on you, huh? poor little pussy-" he grunts as he grips himself, drags his hard flesh through your dripping folds. presses down so his angry mushroom tip is pushing against your cotton panties, he rubs it in them, grunting. "gonna give you-" he gasps, curls in a little. his hand slaps down on the counter next to your hip. "-give you something to make it better."

you tremble. "w-what is it?" you know what he means. you just like to play this game.

"something real special." he pants. drags his leaky cock against your weepy little pussy again. "s'gonna make you so sticky, baby. but you'll like it."

his lips brush your cheek, kitten soft, his breath hitching "that's it- take your medicine, got it all stored up f'r you, honey"

when he cums, his thighs shake with it. thick spurts coat the cotton of your panties and he groans at the sight. pulls back to tug them back into place and you whine when the sticky fluid touches your cunt.

"gotta let it work its magic."

Stranger things porn links!

1k followers celebration!

Thank you so much for 1k! As a token of my gratitude, this is part 2 of my celebration! Part one is here!

Warning: All links contain porn!

Includes: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Jim Hopper, Dmitri “Enzo” Antonov, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Karen Wheeler.

Navigation

Steve Harrington:

Steve makes you cum with a dildo

Steve gives you a tummy bulge

Dilf!Steve teases your pussy

Steve fucks you blindfolded

Eddie Munson:

Mutual masturbation with Eddie

Eddie throat fucks you

Bestfriend!Eddie licking your clit

Creaming on Eddie’s dick

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