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jadewritesficshere · 10 months

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Insecurity 18+only

Steve Harrington x female!reader

shoutout to all my girlies who are self conscious about their chests.

Synopsis: You feel insecure about your boobs, but Steve shows you there is nothing to be insecure about 18+ ONLY

Contents: negative body image (descriptive about insecurities, self depreciating thoughts), pet names (Honey, Beautiful), groping, unprotected p in v (YALL PLEASE WRAP IT UP), creampie

The gnawing despair and shame that had started earlier in the night had continued to grow, becoming like lead in your stomach. It was movie night at the Harrington residence. As was the tradition after saving the world once or twice, the young adults would get together and watch a movie, eat pizza, and smoke if you felt so inclined.

Tonight was Eddie's pick, some B horror movie. You hadn't really paid attention, more focused on watching Nancy and Steve talking. The despondent feeling had started then, even if you knew they no longer had feelings for each other, you felt insecure. You felt as though you couldn't compare to Nancy. You loved Nancy, she was amazing. Hell, you weren't sure if you wanted to be her or be with her.

But you definitely knew you liked Steve. You hadn't even told Steve of your feelings for him, having your heart ripped out as you watched him go out on many dates, and feeling like an asshole for being glad they didn't end well.

The feeling grew as the movie started. Robin and Eddie, taking their roles as film critics seriously, talked about the techniques being used and made comments throughout. Nancy told them to hush many times, but they ignored her. It wasn't until one of the female characters had her shirt ripped open, causing her bare chest to be on display, that caused silence to occur. Her breasts were bigger than yours and perfectly even and round. Nipples that were hardened and like a beacon your eyes drifted to. Her breasts swayed in an almost hypnotizing way as she ran. You would have been the first to admit they were attractive.

"Damn," one of the guys had muttered, causing you to look over. Eddie's eyes were glued to the TV and for once he was silent.. Robin was blushing and her mouth was dropped open. Steve shifted on the couch, his hand going to adjust- oh.

Your stomach dropped and you felt like your veins had turned to ice. Of course this is what Steve would like. You didn't have a bad chest persay, but you were always self conscious of it. In fact, yours were uneven. Sure, they weren't an entire cup size different, but one cup of your bra would fit perfectly while the other was just slightly too big or too small depending on the bra. You knew that you were probably making a bigger issue out of things, but you couldn't help your insecurity. You noticed the difference every time you looked in the mirror, even if no one else did.

You hardly even noticed the movie ending. You couldn't even remember the plot. You nodded at the discussion Eddie had started, trying to make it seem like you had paid attention. You could feel Steve's eyes on you. "Are you okay?" Steve mouthed from across the couch. You smiled and nodded, but the look of concern didn't leave his face. Of course the one guy you wanted to seem normal to could tell something was off.

Slowly, everyone gathered their things to leave. Robin and Nancy left together while you were searching for your keys. Eddie had went to the restroom then left, saying something about a deal. You still couldn't find your keys. You always left them on the table in the hall, but they were nowhere to be found. This was just making your night worse. The icing on the cake. Like when you are already mad and your belt loop gets caught on the door handle. You grumble to yourself, when you hear Steve clear his throat.

You turn to glance at him. Steve had your keys in his hand. He jingled them before tossing them at you. You fumble with the catch, but don't drop them. Why the hell would Steve steal your keys?

Steve stood at the end of the hall in front of the front door. He had his arms crossed over his chest. "What's going on?" Steve demanded. You rolled your eyes at his tone, earning a glare," Seriously? You're acting strange, what happened?" "Nothing. Thanks for stealing my keys asshole." "It's called borrowing, you got them back." You attempt to slide by Steve but he blocks you. Almost like a game, you try to slide past and he blocks you.

You fake to the left, making Steve attempt to block you there, but slide past him on the right. You grasp the door handle but-

The handle slips from your grasp as Steve spins you around and pins you to the door. His arms blocking you on either side, holding onto your biceps. You drop your keys on the floor from surprise. A moment of silence between you two as you both realize the position you're in.

"What's going on? Did...did I do something?" Steve frowns at you. Your stomach drops at the look of disappointment on his face," No! Steve just...no." "You can't even look at me without frowning." His words make you realize you are indeed frowning. You must have been frowning at him all night. You attempt to smile, but the attempt is pitiful and Steve sighs," I'm sorry...I dont know what I did, but I am." "Steve you didn't do-" "No, no. Let me finish. I'm sorry that-" "Steve-" "-i never meant to make you uncomfortable, if you tell me what it is I can avoid doing it again-" "Steve I-" "- let me speak! I'm sorry i-"

"It's my boobs!" Your voice is loud, not yelling, but loud enough that there was no way Steve could ignore it. You bite your bottom lip and his mouth drops open slightly. He closes his mouth and swallows, your eyes flicking to his Adam's apple moving. You don't miss how his eyes snap down to your chest that was covered by your shirt.

"Uh I'm sorry?" Steve blinked a few times before looking into your eyes," I think I'm missing something?" Nerves wrack your stomach, embarrassed at the feelings of insecurity you had. You fidget under his gaze," Well I mean...the movie...she...mine don't look..."

Steve's eyes widen slightly with realization. "Oh Honey...there's nothing to be self-conscious about." You scoff at his words making him glare. "Seriously, all boobs are beautiful. Big, small, perky or not, I could go on. Even, uneven, doesn't matter to me.. Boobs are boobs. And they all are beautiful." "Not mine." Steve rolls his eyes," Yes yours." "Nuh-uh" "Yuh-huh!" You and Steve bicker back and forth before the thought fuck it runs through your mind.

You grab the hem of your sweater, yanking it up. You're glad now that you had worn the severely baggy sweater without a bra. Your breasts jiggle slightly with movement, Steve's eyes immediately darting to them.

He licks his lips as he stares at your chest. Your chest rising and falling with every breath you take. His gaze heavy, making you aware of what you just did. You go to lower your sweater and his hands dart out to hold yours up," Now hold on..."

He smirks at you and lowers one hand down to your left boob. He palms at it, making you realize how big his hand really is. He squeezes lightly before lifting your breast and letting go, watching your breast fall and jiggle. He groans and the sound goes straight between your legs. His other hand darts to your other breast. You can tell there is a difference in size against his hands, but Steve doesn't seem to care.

Your nipples start to harden from arousal and the cool air. Steve's eyes focused on the peaks as his thumbs rub over each one. A shudder runs through you and goosebumps run down your arms from Steve's feather light touch. Steve's eyes are lit up with barely contained lust.

"Don't know why you were concerned about these...They're perfect." Steve mumbles, dipping his head close to your chest before looking up at you. The unspoken question has you nodding your consent. Steve grins slightly before slowly kissing your chest. A kiss here and there. A slight bite. Licking and swirling his tongue. He sucks lightly on one nipple, sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your arousal start to dampen your panties. A light moan escapes your mouth before you bite your lip to hold it back. Steve groans at the sound before pulling back. "Fuck babe..." Steve exhales slowly. He closes his eyes trying to get a grip on himself. You aren't sure if you should lower your top or take it off. Steve shifts and your eyes dart down and-

Oh. A thrill of pride runs through you at seeing Steve's erection. Knowing you gave him that? Knowing you got him worked up just from the part of you that you are the most insecure of? It may not take away that insecurity fully, but it does help to lessen it in this moment. You lick your lips at the sight. Damn, it was big.

Steve's hands slowly grasp yours and lower your sweater. "We uh better put those away. Or I'm gonna have a hard time controlling myself." Steve clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. You nod absent-mindedly. You pause and then say," Who says you have to control yourself?"

Steve growls and crowds you against the door. Your arms go over his shoulders, a hand in his hair and one on his neck. Your noses knock together slightly before his lips collide against yours. Soft but passionate. Your chest rubs against his as he pushes a leg between yours. The friction hits your pelvis as you both grind against each other.

You can feel the roughness of his jeans through the fabric of your pants, it hitting just right to feel amazing against your clit. You pull back with a gasp, Steve taking the opportunity to kiss down your jaw. You aren't sure if he maneuvers your head, or if you turn it to give him better access. You can feel a hint of pain as he nips his teeth, that turns into pleasure as he sucks and licks the spot. He trails down from your jaw to your neck, to the spot that makes your fingers and thighs clench. You know your underwear must be soaked at this point.

"Steve," you tap his neck to get his attention and he pulls back to look at you," Bedroom?" Steve's eyes light up and a blinding grin spreads across his face. He lets go of you and takes a step back. Steve grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand bigger then yours, but feeling like a puzzle piece sliding into place. Butterflies in your stomach taking flight as it felt so right.

Steve leads you up the stairs and into his bedroom. He lightly closes the door and pulls his shirt off. You can't help inhaling sharply at the sight. Pale skin scattered with beautiful moles, like stars in the night sky. You want to kiss each one. His chest hair and that stupid happy trail, it made your mouth salivate. Steve flexes his biceps slightly, trying to show off. You wouldn't tell him, but he didn't need to show off for you. You thought he was beautiful just as he was. Even when he was a "loser" (his own words not yours).

You toss your sweater off quickly, not wanting to miss a second. You push your pants and underwear off in the same movement. It hit you suddenly, that you were naked in Steve's room. This had only happened in your dreams, and if this was one, you didn't want to wake up.

Your eyes dart back to Steve as his jeans come off with his boxers. Steve's dick stands to attention, lightly hitting his stomach. A smattering of curls neatly trimmed at the base. A prominent vein on its side. You can see a mole on one of his balls, and you still agree with your earlier thought of kissing every mole. You lick your lips at the thought. Steve goes to take his tube socks off and falters slightly, almost falling.

It takes some nerves away you didn't realize you had as you giggle at the man in front of you. Steve's face flushes with embarrassment, but that feeling goes away as he sees you getting comfy on his bed. In his mind, you look like you belong. Like this was the perfect place for you. Steve gets his socks off and tosses them away, stalking over to you.

Steve slowly crawls onto the bed and over you. You grin up at him as he braced himself over you. "Hi," you murmur before kissing him. You can feel one of his hands snaking down your arm and grabbing your hand. He holds your hand as you kiss, making your head spin. Something so innocent as holding hands mixed with the way his tongue was moving against yours made it feel incredibly dirty. You knew you would think about this moment every time you held hands, because now you weren't going to let his hand go that easily.

Steve slowly lines up, rubbing his dick through your folds. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine as he rubs against you clit. You whimper slightly, bucking against him. Once his dick is coated thoroughly with your arousal, he teases your hole with his tip. The lightest touch of pressure, just so you know he's there before he pulls away.

You can feel the head of his dick slip in slightly, both of you moaning. "Ready?" He asks and you nod. He slowly pushes in, pausing to give you time to adjust to his length. It has a slight sting of pain as you stretch to adjust for his size. Steve murmurs apologies as he kisses your face, going back to the spot on your neck he found earlier. You relax against him and he pushes in all the way.

You've never felt so full. The feeling was amazing. Steve slowly starts to pull out before pushing back in. Each thrust of his dick sending pleasure coursing through you. You wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to hit a different angle that causes you to moan.

Panting into each other's mouths as he thrusts into you. Steve moans wantonly, sending shivers down your spine. With every thrust he hits that spot that makes you see stars. You can feel your climax approaching. "Give it to me Honey," Steve murmurs, hand snaking down and circling your clit.

You crash over the edge before you realize you were even there. You spasm from pure unadulterated pleasure. Stars explode in your vision as ecstasy takes over. "Oh fuck you're-" Steve cuts off with a gasp as his hips stutter. You are floating through space, barely tethered to your body. You thought out of body experiences only happened when you were about to die, but the pleasure you felt sent you to new heights.

Steve's thrusts falter as he cums. You start to come back to earth as you feel his release paint your insides. Steve collapses on you, not in an unpleasant manner, but like a weighted blanket was laid on you. You wrap your arms around his waist in a loose hug (and if you squeezed his ass well thats just for you two to know). You can feel his heaving breaths as his chest rubs against yours.

Steve pulls back slightly to stare into your eyes. "Hi again," you giggle. "Hi Beautiful," He grins at you. You try to hide your face in his neck but he laughs and pulls back more, making you whine. "Don't go shy on me," Steve kisses your nose," I've seen you naked now. Nothing left to be shy about." You would argue but Steve kisses you again.

Steve slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss. You can feel his cum slowly drip out of you. He pulls back but you tighten your arms around his waist. "Hey, I'll be right back. Just gonna get a towel to clean up." Steve strokes your jaw. You reluctantly let go of the man so he can go get a towel. Steve leaves and returns quickly. A wet wash cloth in hand, Steve pauses at the sight of his release dripping out of you. You can tell he likes what he sees, making a mental note. He cleans you up, careful as you are still sensitive.

Soon, he is crawling back into bed next to you. He curls into you, wrapping an arm around your waist as his head goes to lay against your chest. You wrap one arm around his waist while the other hand goes to his hair. You both sigh contentedly. "Beautiful," Steve mumbles, kissing your breast. Yeah, your insecurity was definitely lessened in this moment. And you had a feeling that every time it started to grow, Steve would show you how he felt about them.

#Steve loves them all he does not care the size or shape #Steve is also canonically a hand holder during the deed so #He is the most boyfriend to boyfriend and idc if you aren't technically together in this #You are now like bro you aren't letting this man go #Also Steve spends a long time doing his hair and you think he hasn't tamed that jungle?#My man over here trimming and looking at the angles in the mirror to make sure it looks good #Personally I wouldn't care but thats just me #Anyways I love him and I love him and I love him #Is this purely self indulgent uh yes but I know I ain't alone in this so #Also I am so terrible at writing smut my mind goes blank and I just #Enjoy this poor attempt at smut aha #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington/female!reader #Stranger Things #LETS TRY POSTING THIS AGAIN CAUSE TUMBLR BLOCKED IT IN THE FEEDS AND YET I AM NOT SHADOWBANNED SO LETS TRY THIS AGAIN #Jade is Talking

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robthegoodfellow · 7 months

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No Romeo, But He’s My Loving One-Man Show

Mirror Sex, Roleplaying for Days 9/10 of @harringrovekinktober additional incidental praise kink, edging, fledgling D/s dynamic, cum play, slight feminization

(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a femme fatale but really just a very good boy, nsfw)

Handy Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Steve had expected Robin to have some pointed feedback after coming over for dinner and a horror movie—a longstanding tradition Billy had inducted himself into a couple days post move-in by rescuing the pizza from a crispy demise because someone forgot to set a timer—but when Steve met her for coffee later that week, all she talked about was the mirrors.

Why are there so many? Why are there more every time I visit? Do you know how many years of bad luck you’re risking? That old one with the fancy frame is definitely cursed—I saw something moving in it. No, it wasn’t us—something else. Like, out of the corner of my eye. It’s haunted, Steve—you should get rid of it. Don’t break it, though, whatever you do.

Finally, after much redirection and pointed questioning, she’d given her assessment on the Billy situation, specifically how Billy seemed to feel about Steve, from an outside perspective.

Mostly you both seemed normal, aside from sneaking looks at each other constantly. But even that’s normal, in a way. Her eyes narrowed. Is that why so many mirrors? More opportunity for sneaky looks?

Which—what? No. That wasn’t why—though he’d be lying if he said he’d never… But what did she even mean, that even that’s normal?

Well, like when we watch movies and something funny happens, you always look at Billy to see his reaction. And when the special effects are corny, he always looks at you and rolls his eyes. And when we’re all three hanging out, half the time it’s you and me trading knowing looks from inside jokes, and half the time it’s you and him. So, like—the looking isn’t new, I just caught you guys doing it without the other realizing it. Like a bunch of times.

Rather than deny it, Steve found himself asking, pathetically, how Billy looked. When Billy looked at him.

Like this, Robin said, and made the biggest, dopiest cow eyes, complete with dreamy sigh, reverent tilt of the chin.

Steve told her to fuck off, but couldn’t repress the grin splitting his idiot face, and Robin cackled.

Ask the haunted mirror, if you don’t believe me! It’ll totally back me up.

It’s not like they’d planned to make the apartment a fun-house mirror maze, but after the divorce, Steve’s mom went a little nuts selling off stuff from the Hawkins place, all of which was apparently unsuitable for her townhouse in Chicago, and when his dad made a stink about her disposing of hideous heirlooms intended for Steve, she’d promised to forward their son the remainder.

Which was how he ended up with the couch, complete with decorative throw pillows, and… about six ornate mirrors of varying unreasonable size. And sure, he could’ve sold them himself, because his dad didn’t actually give a shit, but then he’d sorta grown used to them, and Billy had never complained, so… yeah. Made the place feel bigger, or whatever.

Over time, the arrangement had shifted here and there—except for the one in Steve’s room over the dresser, the one in the bathroom over the sink—anyway, however it happened, Steve had noticed, one day, that he’d subconsciously mastered where to position himself throughout the sitting room to see a reflection of the kitchen, the bathroom corridor, and… Billy’s room, if the door was open—and, these days, it usually was.

Did he feel like a creep? Well, yes and no. Yes in that he was aware he should feel like a creep, and therefore did, and no in that he was almost certain Billy knew he was watching and didn’t care. Not only didn’t care, but… liked it.

After his conversation with Robin, though, he threw all subtly to the wind, staring fixedly at Billy’s reflection as he puttered around in the kitchen, as he left the bathroom, as he lounged in bed reading a book… silently daring Billy to call him out on it, until Billy did.

“Feel like a bug under glass,” he called, turning a page. “You gonna pin me down?”

Humming, Steve resettled against the arm of the couch, didn’t bother turning—just kept admiring him in the mirror leaning against the wall, almost floor to ceiling. The bedside lamp cast warm shadows, limning his hair in gold. Steve wondered if Billy got tired, holding the book above his face like that.

“I was thinking more like a spy tailing a mark.”

Billy laughed—a short bark of sound. One of Steve’s favorites. “Be dead so fast—made in seconds.”

“You saying I’m more Get Smart than Napoleon Solo?”

“Dunno,” Billy mused, thoughtful. Rolling, he made a pillow of his arms, crossed over the closed book. Leveled Steve a filthy smirk. “If you were 007, I could be your Bond Girl.”

That got Steve to turn around, meet his gaze direct, then cooed, all sympathy: “You wanna be tied up, babe, just ask.”

Billy bit the inside of his cheek, unwillingly amused, so Steve dialed up the cheesy charm.

“C’mon, that was good—Bond Girl? Like bond—”

“I got it,” Billy drawled, levering himself up only to flop against his piled pillows in supposed disgust, book cast aside. “Just call me Pussy Galore.”

“Dick Galore.”

Billy frowned. “Randy Galore?”

“A Bond Boy would have to be Randy Something,” Steve acknowledged. “Or… Something Hancock.”

They paused, then, in unison: “Randy Hancock.”

“And I, James Bondage, am tailing you,” Steve went on, as Billy snickered. “And haven’t been made, because I’m an experienced, accomplished spy—”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” With a final snort, Billy folded his arms behind his head, semi-reclined, and pondered the ceiling, unfocused. “What next?”

Steve mimicked him, only on the couch, back to watching Billy’s reflection. “I use my handy spy-glass to peer around corners, and I catch you unawares—getting ready for bed.” Billy hummed, polite interest, and waited for more. So Steve gave him more, mind whirring, pulse already on the rise. “I watch you take off your shirt.”

Absently, only shifting enough to complete the action, Billy peeled his shirt off. Dropped it on the floor.

“Then your jeans.”

Those required a more aggressive shimmy, but soon they joined the discarded shirt.

“And then I can’t stop—can’t look away. Like I’m glued to the sight.” Steve’s throat clicked as he swallowed, trailing his palm down his stomach—indulged in a firm rub. “So pretty, spread out on the bed.”

On cue, Billy spread, thighs parting to reveal white briefs, the cotton worn thin, pink showing through where his bulge stretched the fabric. Sighing, a lazy hand skated south, fingers brushing the waistband. Slipped under, but no further. The fingers seemed to press—stalling the hips, an aborted twitch.

“Shit.” Steve wagged his head, corralling what remained of his wits. “I—uh, I figure…” He chuckled, let one heel drop off the couch to rest on the floor, his hand working a steady rhythm. “Figure I’ll learn what you like, use it to seduce you later. Learn how you like to touch yourself—”

Billy grunted, lashes stuttering as he shoved past the elastic, made a fist around the handful. Spoke soft, musing: “Haven’t, you know.”

“What?”

“Haven’t been—touching myself.” Eyes still on the ceiling, Billy’s lips quirked, just as soft. “Not without permission.”

That landed like a punch, loosing a long, meandering moan: “Baby.”

And the baby blues drifted down, met a reverent stare in the mirror. “Yeah?” So innocent, solicitous.

Steve rolled his hips into his palm, arching clear off the cushion. “I like that.”

Billy’s head lolled sideways, downcast—bashful as he squirmed, bulky knuckles straining the front of his briefs.

“My good boy,” Steve murmured. And he meant it with every fiber of his being: “Show me what feels good.”

His eyes fluttered closed. The hand slowed. “You.”

Simultaneous hits—to the heart and the heat low in his gut. A vicious press brought himself back under control.

“God—killing me.” Could barely huff it, all of him locked on the hand that had tugged free of clinging briefs to caress the red weeping cock, featherlight, through damp cotton. Steve’s pulse pounded so loud in his ears he more saw it than heard it—pink lips shaping You. You. You.

As though hypnotized, clumsy because he was so hard it fucking hurt, even sweatpants chafing awful against skin throbbing tender, Steve stumbled to the bedroom door—caught himself on the frame, panting, light-headed from the sudden vertical, essential bloodflow coursing elsewhere.

Billy choked off a whine, fisted the coverlet to either side, legs splayed as his spine bowed, sank back. “Please.”

In a blink, Steve was at the foot of the bed, crawling to him, over him, hips forcing Billy’s legs wide. “I got you.” Long, dragging grind, the rub exquisite. “I got you.”

The moan vibrated through Billy’s flushed chest. He hadn’t let go of the bedding—wouldn’t, Steve realized, winded anew. He wouldn’t let go unless Steve told him to.

“How long?” Steve panted, reaching down to rub Billy with the flat of his palm through the briefs, this jerking, gentle pressure that worked him piecemeal to the peak, a maddening build. “How long you been waiting for permission, baby?”

“Luh—” Billy coughed, swallowing spit. “Long.”

“So good,” Steve crooned. “I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”

The flush had spread up his neck to his cheeks, temples pulsing red. He was nodding, mindless. “‘Kay.”

“All right.” Steve brushed the bulbous crown with a teasing thumb. “Tummy or panties?”

Muffled throaty sound—like he’d been stabbed. Delivered on a whimper: “Panties.”

Steve resumed his kneading rub, coaxing, fine tremors wracking the body at his mercy. “One day I’m gonna get you a nice pair. Maybe something with lace?”

Billy gulped, trembling nod.

“Lace for your pretty cock, a thong for that pretty ass?”

Half-lidded, head craned back, lip bitten raw between his teeth, Billy shivered.

“Make a mess in your panties,” Steve whispered, bending low. “And I’ll make a mess in them, too.”

A burst of guttural gasps, almost hiccups, borderline sob, and he convulsed beneath Steve’s hand, sticky wet seeping through the fabric.

Steve dropped a good boy with every kiss—on cheek, neck, sternum. Lifting up on his knees, he brought out his own cock, stripping it with a loose fist.

Half-boneless, Billy hooked lazy fingers in the back of his briefs, tugging them past the curve of his butt, the front pulled snug against his spent dick, and rolled onto his stomach. Arched, presenting himself, bare ass exposed, and Steve found his groove between plush cheeks, rutting with enough force that he could feel his cockhead rub against that tight hole.

It didn’t take long—short pumps, short of breath—brutish grunt as he finished, coating the pert cheeks in ropes of slick, deploying one hand to catch runaway drips, pet the clenching hole with wet fingertips, tease the entrance.

Billy cut off a whine, squirming, grinding into his own mess, pushing into the pressure behind.

“Soon,” Steve promised. “I’ll give it to you soon.”

An unspooling sigh, and Billy went limp, face turned away.

Planting a kiss at the base of a shoulder blade, Steve drew up the back of Billy’s briefs, smoothing a hand over the sodden fabric—with a wave of heat, imagined the trail of his come oozing toward the taint.

Shifting, Steve curled up along Billy’s side, nose to nose, arm looped around his sloping back.

Billy blinked, placid, as Steve drew a lock of hair away from his eyes.

“Ruined it,” he mumbled, mouth quirked. “The spy scene.”

“Nah,” Steve said. “A good spy knows when to change plans on the fly—switch it up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Warming to the idea: “What happened was—I realized I could offer you what you needed. In exchange for what I needed.”

Billy’s gaze was lulling as a lake in moonlight. “What did I need?”

Steve let a smile twitch, nerves singing. “Me.”

An echoing twitch. Lids lowered, a hitch in his tone: “And… what did you need?”

Steve dipped near, heart in his throat. “You.”

Billy hummed, a short burst trapped behind teeth. He nudged close, and Steve’s eyes slid shut.

Press of lips, lingering soft, on the edge of his chin.

“Steve?”

They’d been drifting awhile, lying flush, occasional brush of roving hands, warm gusts of breath. Belatedly, Steve hummed, enquiring.

“Itchy.”

He snorted, stretching like a lazy dog. Shower didn’t sound half bad, but there was something else he’d been wanting to try.

“How about a bath?”

Brows raised, pensive duck lips. Steve called his bluff—bowled him over, rough nuzzle, and hauled him upright.

Now with added next chapter: What He Does, He Does So Well

#harringrove #harringrovekinktober2k23 #roommates in love #sub billy hargrove #dom steve harrington #steve is a spy #billy's his mark #all fun and games #mirror mirrors on the wall

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forestmossling · 4 days

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as has been previously established (or hasn’t? if not, that’s just crazy, this is a fundamental part of my personality) i am an unhinged crossover slut. i just love and enjoy crossovers, even between the most far-fetched and unmatchable fandoms possible, an incredible amount.

and a while ago i had this idea of teen wolf/stranger things crossover (which i obviously never followed up on because i never finish my projects) because their settings just vibe with each other. i thought about older steddie moving from hawkins to beacon hills for a break from all the supernatural stuff (*laughing evilly*), eddie becoming an english literature teacher and steve becoming a counselor in their high school while also helping out the lacrosse team. and danny, as he is wont to do, gets the hots for steve and actually comes onto him, because steve is a young teacher still and danny has bad experiences with older men not caring about his age as long as he’s down to get laid. and obviously steve is terrified and calls eddie immediately because he admittedly can handle this better, considering his own experiences with driving out to indy for questionable hook-ups with older guys while he was still in high school. and at first danny’s like “omg it’s so dumb why are they making such a huge deal out of this” and also pretty embarrassed about the whole situation, but soon steddie become his pillar of support, because they’re two older queer guys!! married!! literally teaching in his school!! (although he never openly admits how much this means to him). but since steve is more of a kindred spirit to him, he comes to him for advice and just to bitch about shit from time to time and steve basically takes him under his wing like he did to the party.

and then there’s stiles (yes, this is a danny/stiles scenario. you can take this ship out of my cold, dead hands, they’re my favorite in tw) who is absolutely obsessed with his new eng lit teacher who is open about also being adhd, is also an absolute nerd while somehow still being undeniably cool, and who doesn’t get angry at his dumb questions in class or snap at him for getting distracted, so he’s got a little bit of hero worship going on. and then there’s eddie, who can sniff a lost sheepie from a mile away and can see how isolated stiles is aside from being friends with scott, so he keeps an eye on him and gets caught up in increasingly weird but incredibly interesting conversations with him after class and privately hopes to corrupt him into getting into dnd. and then he notices the way stiles stares at danny in his class without seemingly even realizing it, or watches him say the dumbest shit to danny trying to get his attention, and immediately goes “boy, do i know the feeling”.

so obviously he tells steve and they hatch a plan to get danny and stiles together, because stiles is such a good boy and maybe dating him would finally stop danny from going out with very questionable older people, and danny seems begrudgingly amused with stiles’s antics anyway, so maybe there’s something there, and their whole dynamic just reminds steve and eddie so much of themselves, makes them think of what they could have been, if they had gotten their shit together earlier, so obviously they can’t just do nothing about it.

and then steddie get dragged into the whole supernatural bullshit (because of course they do), and steve takes out his trusty nail bat. everyone just keeps thinking like “who the hell are these guys and why are they in any way involved in this??” and stiles and danny seriously reconsider their matching scars.

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