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#aware of own bisexuality steve harrington

king-zacharyy · 2 months

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Here)

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"Oh, Maxie.." Steve breathed, pained, as his eyes landed on the prone teen.

"Steve! You should be resting." El said, not getting up from her spot at Max's bedside. Lucas was on her other side, and they were both holding Max's hands.

"Ellie," Steve said on a sigh. Robin wheeled him over to her, and he took her unoccupied hand. "I'm tired of resting. I needed to see my girls. How have you been, kiddo?"

Ellie's head dropped to his shoulder, and she squeezed his hand, practically sagging against him. "Tired. I missed you. I was not happy when I found out you were hurt. Again."

He winced, apologizing, and looked at Lucas. "Lu." He looked up from Max's hand, and Steve could see the tears gathering in his red eyes. "C'mere." He raised his free arm, and Lucas reluctantly let go of Max to tuck into Steve's side.

"She's going to be okay." And he believed that. Max was a fighter, and she had people to return to. "She's going to be okay. We're going to be okay."

Steve took a moment to look around the room, taking note that only Robin, Hopper, and Erica had joined them. It was then that he noticed the lack of one Susan Mayfield.

"Where’s her mom?" Steve asked, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

"We don't know. No one has been able to get in contact with Ms. Mayfield since the earthquake. We're not even sure if she's alive." His dad's answer was enough confirmation in Steve's mind, though.

Susan wasn't doing good after Billy's death, and when Neil Hargrove up and left, she just got worse. She was drinking, he knew, and working all the time, but she loved Max. He knew she did. He could see it every time he talked to her about Max. If she was alive, she'd be here.

He nods and finally takes her in. Her right arm is wrapped in a cast. Little drawings, as well as The Party's names, are all over it in different colored sharpie. It draws a smile out of him. Both of her legs are also in casts, elevated by pillows, and also decorated. The air punched out of his lungs as he took in her face. She had an oxygen mask on, and her skin was pale. Her fire red hair was in two braids, and she looked– small.

Max was never small. Even when face-to-face with a demodog, she never shrank. Even in the face of Billy Hargrove threatening her friends and beating Steve's face in, she stood her ground.

Steve had to choke back a sob, guilt and despair clawing at his throat. This was his fault. It was his fault she got hurt. It was his fault Erica and Lucas got hurt. It was his fault Dustin got hurt. It was his fault Eddie almost died.

He was their protector. He was the one who took the hits. The kids weren't supposed to get hurt. That was his job. What good was he if he couldn't even do that? What reason would everyone have for sticking around if he was so useless?

Maybe it would be better if he had been taken instead of Barb back in '83. Then Nancy would have her best friend, Robin and Erica never would've been dragged into all of this, and Max and Eddie wouldn't be hospitalized right now.

"I can hear your self-deprication from here, Dingus. It's not your fault." Robin's voice snapped him out of his spiral, and he cut her a glare, without any heat behind it.

"It’s no one's fault but Vecna's. And Jason's." Lucas said into his shoulder, and Steve kissed the top of his head in thanks and acknowledgment.

It would probably take a while for him to genuinely believe them, but for now, he pushed the negative thoughts aside. No matter what, he wasn't letting any of the kids get hurt again on his watch. When Max woke up, and she would wake up, he would be there for her.

"Okay, kiddies. I've gotta go check on Eddie and Mike, but I'll be back in here when Robin next allows it. I love you both." He pressed a kiss to both El and Lucas' heads, squeezed them goodbye, and detangled from them with a not-small amount of reluctance.

Robin wheeled him to Max's head so he could press a kiss to her temple and whisper an, "I love you, Maxie. Get better soon, my little zoomer." With that sentiment, he was wheeled out of the room and towards Eddie's room.

"Where'd everyone else go?" He asked Hopper. Erica stayed with her brother, so it was just Robbie and his dad with him now.

"The Byers left to find a place to stay for the night, the Wheelers went with them, and Henderson said he was going to Munson's room."

"Eddie hasn't woken up yet. The doctor said that it might be a while before that happens because of how much blood he lost and the extent of his wounds. Mike was with him, but he was in your room a bit before you woke up. That's all I know so far, though, because I've mostly been with you." Robin added, and Steve's stomach dropped a bit with the news about Eddie.

Before Steve could comment or question further, they reached the room. He felt the last of the tension in his shoulders unwind at the sound of Eddie's heart monitor, secure in the knowledge that everyone in the party was alive.

"Hey, Dust." Robin parked him next to Dustin, where he was sitting in a chair by the bed. The boy immediately sagged into his side, and Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm going to go talk to your doctor and try to find Joyce." His dad said, ruffling his hair and leaving the room. Robin pulled up a seat on his right and clasped his hand in hers.

"So... Are we gonna talk about how you called Hopper 'Dad'?" Steve suppressed the blush that wanted to spread on his cheeks at Dustin's question, and ruffled his hair.

"What’s there to talk about? We're all aware my parents are shit, and over the last year, Hop's been more of Dad than my actual father. He is my dad. In all the ways that matter. And I refuse to be embarrassed about that."

Dustin gave him an analyzing look before nodding and resting his head back on Steve's shoulder.

Steve took a minute to take in Eddie's state and felt the same strangeness as he had with Max earlier.

Throughout the time that Steve had known him– both in school and over the past week– Eddie was in constant motion. From pacing to walking on tables to a bouncing leg to fidling with his rings to restless hands while talking. But he was never still.

Now he was– save for the rise and fall of his chest– motionless. And the last time Steve had seen him motionless was–

Steve's breath caught in his chest, a lump caught in his throat blocking his airway, and he couldn't breathe. He couldn't–

Steve felt this urgent, all-consuming need to feel Eddie's heartbeat, then. As though his own heart would stop beating if he didn't.

It was irrational, he knew. Steve could hear the drumming of his heart in his ears, and the EKG Eddie was hooked up to was beeping without a hitch to be seen or heard, but–

His fingers wrapped around a pale wrist– and when did he let go of Robin's hand?– thumb pressed to the pulse point there and waiting, waiting, waiting until–

Thump ... Thump ... Thump

The roaring in Steve's ears dissipated as his heart slowed to a matching beat, and he could finally breathe, almost like nothing had ever been wrong in the first place.

It should have been surprising, scary even, the speed at which Steve fell for the other man, but in reality? Well, he had known he liked both for a long while, and Steve had always loved hard and fast. Always gave his heart out as easily as someone handed out candy on Halloween. He always gave more than he received, and it always backfired.

(Well– that's not entirely true. It wasn't that way with Robin, but Robin had always been different. Robin was the first– and only– person where the give-and-take was equal. She was his best friend, his sister, his other half, the platonic love of his life. His soulmate. (With a capital P as they always emphasized) His Robbie.)

But– it wasn't like he could help it. No matter how many times his heart got stomped on, no matter how many people did the stomping, he couldn't stop giving his love. Even if he– and said love– was just bullshit.

This time would be different though, he promised. This time, he'd hold his love close to his chest. He'll feel it, but it won't be given. Steve was barely friends with Eddie, and honestly? If that was all he got? Steve thinks he could live. He thinks he could be content. As long as he has Eddie, even if he isn't his.

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Well, after some sever hiccups in the writing process as well as some writers block and lack of motivation, here is part 3! Don't worry, this is certainly not the last part, I only do Happy endings, nothing sad or hopeful.

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@thespaceantwhowrites @child-of-cthulhu @plantzzsandpencilzzs @thebadasshistorian @stevesbipanic @daeb820 @flocon-tourne-en-rond @melonmochi

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puppy-steve · 5 months

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i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

the bachelor au where steve's the bachelor and eddie is a contestant, but not because he actually wants to be, he's just in it for the paycheck. robin is also a contestant but only because her parents sent in her application without her knowing and she isn't out to them yet.

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with him and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

only robin doesn't want to date him. he's slowly moving his way up the ranks to becoming her best friend, sure, but this is still tv. she's still expected to kiss him and confess her feelings for him. and when the time comes for her to do that, she can't.

they're in venice. steve is leaning in and robin is very aware of the cameras filming them. the back of her neck goes cold and her stomach churns and suddenly she's running in the opposite direction. her italian is passable so she ends up getting a taxi back to the hotel production put them in.

she locks herself in her en suite and presses her forehead against the cold porcelain. she doesn't know how long she sits there until her phone buzzes and she checks the notification. the nausea rises up her throat again. she forgot she gave steve her number.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

robin debates it but figures she owes him and explanation. she lets him in and they sit on the bathroom floor. robin tells him why she's on the show in the first place, about how she didn't know her parents signed her up until she got the phone call from the casting director. tells him that even if she gets kicked off, she can still use the money for her student loans.

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

she apologizes to the production crew the next day and they're understanding and steve and robin get a re-do of their date. it's much more genuine this time, filled with laughs and digs as they eat gelato along the river and people watch and gossip.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

eddie, on the other hand. he's absolutely head over heels for steve, which is surprising even for him. he's trailer park trash, he's got absolutely nothing on steve harrington. not the name, not the money.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

steve opens up about all the fake people in his life, the ones who just take advantage of them and use him for their own gains. the ones who don't even bother to get to know the real him. the one that likes to play guitar and hang out with the gaggle of teenagers that follow him around all the time for some unknown reason.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the show has a deadline, of course, and steve can't just spend all his time with eddie and robin. there are other contestants. robin knows her rose is strictly platonic and steve has already called her multiple times freaking out about his growing crush on eddie. she knows eddie has this in the bag.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

when steve chooses eddie after a moment of dramatic silence that kind of puts his own dm dramatics to shame, eddie doesn't hesitate to jump in steve's arms, wrap his legs around his waist, and plant a sloppy one on him right in front of the cameras.

#cj talks #something something steve goes on a tv show to find romance and ends up finding his romantic and platonic soulmates #steddie #steddie fic #cj writes #i liked being your schmuck #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months

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I do love clueless Eddie, but he probably is aware that he's not exactly straight. Like, he's probably made out with Jeff a few times. He's just not aware that there's a word for it. He likes men, and he likes women. He's always called himself a little bit gay though which is what he told Robin and Steve when he came out to them.

"Eddie, babe, you know there's a word for that. . .," Robin said.

"Yeah, I'm bisexual," Steve said.

"I think you mean bilingual. I didn't know you spoke more than one language," Eddie said.

"I mean, yeah, but also, no!" Steve exclaimed. "I speak more than one language, so yes, I'm bilingual. I like more than one gender so I'm bisexual."

"Oh! Oh, I am an idiot," Eddie said.

"You said it, not me," Robin said as she continued to paint Eddie's toenails neon pink.

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed.

"What? He literally said it," Robin said.

"I did say it, Steve," Eddie said.

"Oh, is Jeff alright with you telling us that you two used to make out?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah, he doesn't care," Eddie said, shrugging. "He's very proud of his kissing prowess."

"Yeah, I'm sure he's very good," Steve said rolling his eyes.

"He is. It's ridiculous the things that man can do with his mouth," Eddie said. "You won't find a better kisser than him."

Steve growled, grabbed a fistful of Eddie's hair, yanked his head back, and slammed his lips to Eddie's. Eddie moaned against his mouth, lifting his hand to curl his fingers into Steve’s hair as he deepened the kiss. Steve broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

"I stand corrected," Eddie said, gasping for breath.

"Steve! This was supposed to be girls' night!" Robin shrieked. "This is where we're supposed to talk about our crushes! Like, I talk about my crush on Vickie!"

"Oh, by the way, I have a crush on Eddie,' Steve said.

"And you didn't tell me this before. . .why?" Robin asked.

"We were all becoming friends, I didn't want to make things awkward," Steve shrugged.

Robin and Steve looked at Eddie expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

"Oh! Yeah! I've been crushing on Steve too," Eddie said, grinning wickedly. "Who, by the way, was totally jealous of how good a kisser I think Jeff is."

"Yeah, keep talking about that, and I might have to find out for myself," Steve said.

"Don't you dare!" Eddie scowled and squeezed his knee. "My boyfriend!"

"Excuse me, that is not how you ask my platonic soulmate to be your boyfriend, Munson," Robin said, waving her brush at him.

"Steve Harrington," Eddie said, taking his hand. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, you dork," Steve said, slapping his chest and kissing him.

"Better," Robin said, capping the nail polish.

"Okay, I said you could paint my nails whatever color you wanted as long as I could paint your nails whatever color I wanted," Eddie said, grinning as he grabbed the black nail polish. "Now, tell mummy and daddy all about your crush."

"Ew, never call yourself that," Robin laughed before launching into details about Vickie.

Steve smiled at the both of them, happy that they got along so well and that everything was sliding into place perfectly. Everyone figured out things at their own pace. As long as they got there, it didn't really matter how long it took as long as there was time left to spare. It all works out in the end.

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scoops-stevie-archive · 1 year

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i keep thinking about that one bachelor au post so here's my take on it (i've never watched the bachelor or bachelorette so bear with me)

they both think that steve is overrated and definitely over hyped. typical rich kid with enough money to buy people's love, yada yada.

until they both start going on dates with them and then realize that it isn't exactly true. yes, he's rich, but he's also kind and funny and actually genuine once you get past the mask he puts on for everybody. eventually, eddie and robin find themselves looking forward to their dates.

there's a knock on her room door and another text.

r u ok? can i come in?

she stares at the water in the toilet bowl when she comes out to him.

steve is quiet, processing, before he laughs. he's not laughing at her, he promises, but "robin. you're on a show with more than a handful of other queers, you know that, right? i'm bisexual."

and yeah, robin knew that, but it's different when you're not into the guy you're supposed to be romancing at all.

steve reassures her that it's okay, and that he still hopes they can be friends and keep in touch after the show ends.

robin would like that.

it's the best robin's ever been on.

hell, the very first day, he insulted the guy's food choices right to his face without knowing it.

eddie wants the earth to give way underneath him and swallow him whole.

he plays it up on their first date, all fake niceties and empty smiles, until steve tells him point blank, "the guy that said the buffet was shit that first night? i want to get to know him."

eddie's flabbergasted.

he tells eddie about what he wants to do with his life, not what someone else has planned for him and eddie falls deeper and deeper.

this time, when steve leans in for a kiss, eddie doesn't shy away. their lips press together and it's the best goddamn kiss either one of them have ever had.

the final night comes and the contestants have dwindled. there's only a small group of them left: eddie, robin, and another guy and girl they didn't bother learning the names of.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #platonic stobin #the three muskequeers #something something steve going on a tv show to find romance and ending up finding both his romantic and platonic soulmates #cj talks #prompts

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decadentworld · 1 year

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Hi!! Can I request Steve having his first time bottoming with reader? Im sure he would tbe the one you would have to take more time with, specialy since hes always been the top and only been with woman. I really love reading your longer fics where it all builds up. thankyou!!!

Anon, tell me why I keep making my request fills longer and longer? I hope I’m not being too exaggerated with the length of this one.

Notions.

A story divided into moments.

Steve thinks back to all the moments that lead to him being in this position. Literally.

※ Bottom Steve Harrington/Top Male Reader.

※ 23,391 words.

※ Requested by Anonymous.

※ +18. Minors do not interact.

※ Content and warnings: First time bottoming. Gentle manhandling. Praise kink. Slightest D/s dynamics (Submissive Steve Harrington/Dominant Male Reader). Brief allusion to subspace. Laughter during sex. Discussions about gender roles and stereotypes. Porn with a bit of plot. Allusions to dyslexia.

※ Both characters are canonically 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

It’s already scary enough for Steve to be in a relationship with a man. Steve from two years ago, no, one year ago… perhaps even less: Steve from six months ago would have never imagined he’d ever have a significant other he would call a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. How curious are life’s many twists and turns. It just so happens that this latest relationship of his has been the steadiest in a good while. Just shy of three months, but Steve feels it so much different from any relationship he’s ever had.

Especially from Nancy.

How to describe the contrast between you and her? He could start by the obvious: she’s a girl, you’re a guy. That’s easy. It wasn’t that easy at first, though. Steve’s only known he’s bisexual for just a bit longer than you’ve been together. It wasn’t a smooth transition, being able to put in words that he was also interested in men. It has been like that for a long time for Steve, always noticing that maybe Harrison Ford seemed a bit more handsome to him than to other guys at school. Not that he ever said it out loud. What’s always been easy for him to understand is that he could not be saying these things out loud, lest he accidentally out himself. Even at the time he wasn’t aware of his own bisexuality.

It’s different, thinking about girls and thinking about guys —a single guy, for the moment. The girls he’s been with were usually dainty, pretty, curvaceous. Soft. All things that truly appeal to Steve.

But you? A man?

Oh, boy.

You’re nothing like them. Whereas they were small, you’re big. And while they normally let themselves be led —like they expected Steve to take the reins, because both they and Steve believed it was their and Steve’s God-given place—, you’re independent. You don’t wait for any of Steve’s cues for anything at all, because this has been discussed between the two of you, which at the time gave him the biggest realization of his life: that there’s no need for there to be roles if it doesn’t feel right for both parties.

Even as this has been said, understood, and internalized… Steve started wondering early into the relationship how it would feel like if these roles (again, non-existent if not desired) were… reversed.

And you noticed. And you started to respond in kind.

It’s something new and fun to explore.

There’s more. Steve’s a pretty tall guy, and, sure, it’s rare to find taller girls. He’s always been the one to be looked up to. That would absolutely not be a problem for him at all. He liked, when he was with girls, to lean on them, to playfully put his chin atop their head, to surprise them by hoisting them —Nancy— up when they —she— least expected it.

And now?

There was one time when you did exactly the same to him. He’ll never forget the fuzzy feeling he experienced at that moment. He gave you a screaming giggle, hoping you wouldn’t notice the strong blush on his face. (You did). And when you released him and he stumbled while looking for his footing once again, he turned around, looked up at you, and…

And made this face, see, like he was having an epiphany.

It was as if he only then realized how much taller and bigger and stronger than him you were.

It was something endearing to see, that time. Steve looked as if he didn’t know what to say. His mouth was trying to form the words, but he seemed like he was also embarrassed by his inability to speak, because he looked like he was holding in a nervous laugh at the same time. And when he realized that he was truly speechless, he could only emit a little titter, tip his eyes down with an even darker flush, and bring a hand up his head to put a lock of his hair behind his ear.

The hair behind the ear is what pretty much sealed the deal. It was at that moment that Steve thought for the first time: Is this how girls would usually feel?

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”, you asked then, if only to tease him further, because you somehow knew what he was going through.

And he could only mumble incoherently.

II.

Let’s go back to this change of dynamics for a second. Steve will never not be left reeling after he experiences any of the small pushes you give against his idea of ‘set role’. Any time he feels like his preconceptions are challenged, like when you experiment with his notion of a previously self-thought assertive person, he so gracefully takes it in stride. Enjoys it, even, which is great, and Steve senses you two are reaching an unspoken agreement of sorts:

He’s going to gradually let you take the reins of the relationship.

This is so new to him. Sometimes, it downright terrifies him how alright he is with it. He feels like he should be more combative about it, but…

Steve is curious, alright? He can’t stop recalling the time before you were together when you playfully asked him to compare hand sizes, one of the most overt romantic advances in history that he fortunately responded positively to. If not enthusiastically. And, oh, how very bothered he ended up when you actually pressed your right hand to his left one, palm to fingertips, because he only then became aware of how much bigger your hand was, compared to his. His reaction at that moment was unforgettable. It was similar to the one he had when you first surprise-hoisted him up. All blushy, unable to hide it.

One of the first few times in his life he was truly abashed.

He keeps remembering with each day that passes, with each newfound sensation he gets when he’s with you. There are a series of similar happenings he can’t get enough of. These involve the times when you’re teaching him how to cook.

Listen. Steve Harrington knows he sucks at cooking, alright? But that’s because no mother of his has ever taken the time to teach him basic stuff, such as the amount of time an egg needs to be boiled, and no father of his has ever handed him tongs or a spatula and told him how he’s exactly supposed to flip burgers at a barbecue. He knows he has some of the fault in this. His past as a spoiled brat has left him reliant on the housekeeper who always leaves the fridge stocked, with meals ready to be microwaved at a moment’s notice. And after, it’s not like he had any interest or time in reading any sort of cookbooks when he was constantly stressing over the end of the world.

The fact that every time he tries his hand at cooking he keeps burning that same meal leaves him crestfallen and uninterested in anything else.

So, when you one day visited him and saw how stressed out he was, fluttering around the kitchen, you knew you had to intervene.

“Are you okay, Steve?”, you asked worriedly, watching him turning his back to you, almost frenzied, stirring on a pot and attempting to do something else you couldn’t see from your position while also making quick glances at a book on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah. Uh, I mean…” Steve twisted his head at you and quickly back at the stove. “I mean…” He seemed to trail off, too busy and perhaps even frantic, fully focused on what he was doing.

“You sure?”, you pushed.

“Uh…” A quick turn of his head towards the book and you could suddenly feel his exasperation. “Shit! It was supposed to be half a spoonful? Not a— fucking spoonful and a half.” It was obvious that he was thinking out loud.

You approached him, then, from his left side so he could see what you were doing. A nervous and disheartened glance at your arrival told you everything you needed to know. You put your right hand on the low of his back. “Doesn’t look like ‘okay’ to me, sweetheart.”

Steve gave you a long, sad look, and turned off the dials on the stove. He heaved a brooding sigh. “It was supposed to be a surprise. I thought this’d be easier and quicker to make.”

You smiled at him. He was too sweet. “Honey. You were making me food?”

Steve looked to the side. “Yeah… but, apparently, I’m too stupid for that, too.” He didn’t want to cry over this. He thought he would look even more stupid if he did.

You knew he was spiraling, and you wouldn’t let him. You were familiar with how hard he was on himself on a good day, but you also knew how bad that would get when he was trying to give you his displays of affection. So you brought the hand you had on his lower back up to his chin, softly stroking it with your thumb, catching the gorgeous shy look he was giving you. “You’re not. I forbid you from calling yourself that.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Seriously, Steve. You’re not stupid. Whoever told you that, they’re all levels of wrong.”

His eyes strayed anywhere else, and he muttered: “I call myself that.”

“Well. You’re wrong, then.”

Steve quickly glanced up at you again. There was so much conviction in what you said that he just had to bite his lower lip to hold back a smile.

You smiled, too. You lead his head closer to yours, noticing how breathless he got, and gave him a slow and sweet kiss on his lips. When you withdrew, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “You’re a sweet boy. You were cooking for me. That’s so lovely.”

Maybe you understood that he liked a little bit of praise, too, that day, if the way he looked down and to the side with the lightest dusting of pink on his face was indication enough.

But that expression was rapidly being overshadowed by dejection.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here. I can’t seem to follow basic instructions. It’s like the words get mixed up, or something.” He looked back at the cookbook and your hand fell from his chin.

“Hm.” You skimmed over the contents of the book, and glanced back at the previous preparations he had on the stove. “I got this one. Mind if I help you?”

Steve bit his lip. “How?”

And you—

You got behind him. Pressed your chest to his back. And took each of his hands in yours.

Steve gasped.

“Like this?”, you asked. “You might be able to learn a thing or two better if you have the muscle memory.”

Sure. Muscle memory, Steve thinks, among the haze that his mind has become. The warmth of your bigger body against his makes it hard to think of anything else. But he claws himself out of it long enough to answer: “Uh— Y-Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!”, he reiterates, with a giddy smile you can’t see and a nervous titter present in his voice.

You chuckle as well.

That day was the first time Steve sincerely felt like he was being… eased into a lighter headspace. The way you guided his hands while chopping ingredients on the cutting board, while sliding them into a pot, even while in the act of properly washing his hands under the faucet and drying them as well… It all had him almost breathless. It was the first occasion in which he didn’t mind relinquishing that previously-thought position he had believed he had to occupy, once upon a time.

And how to describe the feeling?

It felt like a weight off his shoulders. It felt like something he thought should’ve always been present in his life.

It felt natural. Not forced.

That feeling of being enveloped, not only by your bigger and warmer frame, but by this sense of a guiding hand you were giving him, was slowly turning him into mush on the inside, and setting off a fuzzy sensation inside him, like a tickling feeling. It was causing chaos inside his mind, and he didn’t want it any other way.

Which made following your instructions a lot harder, but, hey, that’s why you were being his puppeteer, right?

“Pay attention, baby.” Your murmuring next to his ear had the exact opposite effect.

“I am,” he choked out.

God. His cheeks were so red by that point. Steve found himself abashed knowing that you could see him, because your head was lying on his shoulder, right against his. And the way his heart was pounding, reverberating through his body and through yours against his, was so obvious he knew you would’ve been able to sense it even if you’d been on the other side of the room.

But he found some solace in the fact that yours was pounding, too.

That is the flashback —or rather, string of flashbacks, since you had to keep teaching him how to make different meals— that keeps him going whenever he gets too much into the particular idea that he’s doing something wrong. Because he’s not. Steve feels right when you make him feel like this, and no amount of bigoted ideas drilled into his mind since he had use of reason will stop him from coming back to those moments.

III.

And what moments. Steve has a little problem every time he remembers the first few times he was intimate with you. A man.

Hoo, boy. It’s so different with a guy. The change —or rather, lack— of dynamics would make for interesting situations in bed. And on the couch. And by the entrance door. And…

Well. You can’t blame Steve. It’s as if this new relationship, this new revelation, re-awakened his high libido he thought broken after the whole supernatural shebang. At first, it was he who would eagerly turn you around against the wall after you initially did, turning the previous make-out session into something hot and heavy that would leave him bothered. You would let him, because you understood how new and inexperienced he was with a male, and wanted him to be fully comfortable. He would fall into place and push his own hips against yours, feeling thoroughly thrown off in the best way at feeling something similar growing and pressing against himself. Then he would do it faster, harsher, getting light-headed when he’d feel your big hands on his lower back, urging him until he would muffle a shout in your chest and cum in his pants like it was the first time he’d ever had an orgasm.

But then, as more times followed, and more items of clothing would gradually disappear, Steve would find himself as the recipient of these same actions. The first time was the exact same situation: against the wall. Only, he was the one trapped against it and your body, and he was the one to be rutted against.

And this peculiar feeling of confinement wasn’t unpleasant.

The second time was on your couch. There was excitement in the fact that you two were slowly turning more horizontal. He tentatively let you arrange him to be sitting against one of the arm rests with his legs extended while you kneeled in the space between them. There was also comfort in the fact that you would check on him every five or so minutes, so that Steve would understand that that position was a choice fully of his own, and that he could tap out at any moment if he needed to. And so, the fun would heighten, and he would totally feel out of his depth when he understood that he didn’t have that much space or momentum to rut against you, and that he would have to receive more than he had to give.

He would have to take it.

And this knowledge made his heart beat so fast it’d feel like it was coming out of his chest, and it turned his face into the most appealing shade of pink, and it would pull the prettiest moans and the prettiest expressions out of him, and it made his legs shake like they had never before with a girl, and it had him coming in his pants and covering his mouth in shame at the loud moan that threatened to escape him.

And the third time was the first time he had the courage to ask to undress you, and you responded in kind and asked if you could undress him in turn, and suddenly you’d both be on your bed, only one layer of clothing left.

Steve would take off the last item of clothing of his by himself, the first time he’d ever be sheepish in a sexual encounter. You would compliment his size, because it was a very nice-looking cock indeed. There was no doubt over why he’d been called King Steve in the past.

But when your own underwear was off, he gasped and sat up in shock. In alarm, perhaps. Because, sure, he was King Steve, who was the subject of mainly nice rumors…

But you?

It was ridiculous. There had to be a limit.

So, understanding how apprehensive he was, you would comfort him, tell him you didn’t have to do anything if he changed his mind.

But Steve surprised you, and he smiled timidly, seeming to cover his mouth with one hand while he simply looked at it.

He would exhale, almost as if he was chuckling. Nervously, of course. “It’s…”

“Yeah. I know.” Your apologetic smile put him just a teeny bit more at ease.

Steve looked at your cock, then at you, then at it again, one jittery hand hovering in the air close to your body. “Um…”

“D’you wanna touch it?”, you encouraged him. You grabbed his right hand with all the softness in the world. You leant up on your right elbow and laid your head on your hand, trying to transmit as much ease as you could to him.

“Yeah. Okay,” he answered shyly, and he shortened the distance until his hand was gently palming your half-hard cock.

Steve heaved in a breath. It felt…

It felt so similar, yet so different. New. Exciting. He stroked with an open palm up and down once, releasing a small titter at your pleased hum.

You would not leave him unattended, of course. Your own left hand slowly approached him, first resting on his folded left leg. Your big hand stroked up and down his thigh twice, hearing his excited shaky breath, and came to rest on the juncture of his leg and hip.

You looked at him, noticing he was biting his lower lip in anticipation. So you didn’t tease him anymore, and finally wrapped your hand around his erect cock.

Steve released a silent moan and his eyes closed on their own for one moment, until he felt your initial first strokes and just had to watch you. He released a disappointed little noise that made you smile when you let his cock go, only to go red as a cherry afterward when he realized his little slip-up.

You chuckled. It was clear that this situation was so new to him, so much so that he didn’t know how to handle his own reactions. “Cute.”

Steve tried to hide. Impossible. His pink flush covered every part of his head, down to his neck and hairy chest. “‘M not cute.”

You straightened until you were sitting up, used one hand on the bed and another one on his thigh as leverage, and closed up on him, until you were leaning into him. Steve looked at you from under his lashes when you did this, biting his lip in anticipation, because the point of contact on his thigh, so very close to his hard cock, was making it hard to think about anything else. “You are.” The other hand that wasn’t on his thigh then slid to the back of his head, and you ran your fingers through his hair. He exhaled heavily. “There’s no fighting me on this.”

That’s how you slowly guided him into a steamy kiss, at the same time that you took hold of his cock once more, feeling more than hearing his muffled moan against your mouth. You stroked him, softly, just so enough that he would push his hips towards your hand, aching for more.

You were feeling particularly mean that day. Your hand kept its slow pace and you felt just how much that agitated Steve. He withdrew from the kiss and gave you this expression, like he was all but holding in the biggest pout ever. You only raised your eyebrow at him, secretly thrilled at his neediness. “Want anything?”, you teased him.

“Yeah. You know.” Steve’s face was so pink. You knew how much of a novel it was for him to have to actively ask for something, rather than simply do it himself, if only because he was still getting used to this fun change of dynamics.

“Oh, but I don’t. Do enlighten me.” You got all close and personal with Steve by this point, noticing his averting eyes. “Use your words, baby.”

At that, Steve could only bite his lip. He mumbled something, too low for you to hear.

“Sorry. What was that?” You smirked at him, because it was obvious that he was enjoying being teased so much.

“Do it faster,” Steve reiterated, unable to look at you by then.

“Do what faster, exactly?”

Steve made this embarrassed noise, something between a grumble and a whine. He hid his red face in the pillow under him while you chuckled. “Stroke me. Faster.”

You bit your lip while he couldn’t see you. You thought it was too early to test the waters for it, even though you were extremely sure he was starving for praise, so you settled with telling him: “Good.”

Steve’s eye peeked from the pillow’s soft cotton when you said this, and you knew you had hit the nail right on the head, if the way his face softened when you said it was indicative enough.

Then you complied with his request. Steve went from an embarrassed mess to a shameless one after only a few seconds of intense stroking. He shifted on the bed until his face was fully visible again, and you were able to see the way it transformed from his pleasure before your eyes. With no clothes to act as a hindrance, he could feel everything.

And even then, he took you by surprise. Without warning, he started stroking you with the same speed you did to him. You met his eyes. He had a particular glint in his that led you to understand he was feeling competitive.

You raised an eyebrow.

He bit his lip, like he was holding back a smile, even as his moans were momentarily muffled. Then, he gave you that same verbal confirmation for your thoughts, even though it was quite far off from what you had been expecting:

“You want me to go faster? Use your words.”

But he said it with such a waver in his voice and with such a deep shade of pink on his face that you couldn’t help but cackle at him. Steve’s face turned pouty as you did, but he knew you weren’t being mean on purpose. It was just so fun to think that he wanted to return to his former place on top, like he was trying to flip your own game on you.

How wrong he was to think that you would go down without a fight.

You chuckled a bit more. “Cute.”

“What?”, he asked with a shaky voice, subtly pushing his hips into the tunnel of your left hand.

“It’s cute that you think you can win this game.”

Steve’s face got impossibly redder. He closed his eyes for a second while his mouth opened in a silent moan, but tried to compose himself afterward. You leered at him, each time more convinced that he did have a little bit of a praise kink. He steeled his face as much as he could afterward, intently looking at you. “It’s not— It’s not a game if you’re not even trying to beat me.”

You smirked. “Oh, so you want me to put up a bit of a fight?”

“I mean,” Steve started, trying to look nonchalant. “…if you’re not a coward.”

You chuckled lowly at him. Then, you got close to him, trying to blanket his body with yours, but he was ready for it and met you in the middle. He kissed you hard, attempting to overpower you. That made you chuckle within the kiss, something that made him grunt in something similar to annoyance in response. Your hand moved faster and harder on his cock, a heavenly feel to him as the amount of pre-cum he was leaking made things easier, resulting in an intense handjob, made all the more vivid from your rough and calloused hands.

Even as he moaned freely in the kiss, he was still trying to get you to lie under him. His hand imitated your own’s movements, though you could feel the slight tremor his was showing. He tried to overcompensate by opening your mouth and pushing his tongue onto yours.

You raised your eyebrows at this, but kept this little game he didn’t know he had lost before he had even started. On one twist of your hand, his hips pushed up higher up and his cock accidentally brushed against yours, making him yelp and making you grunt. You withdrew to look at him and noticed the redness of his face overtaking his neck and chest now. Clearly, he was trying to keep up, but the haze of pleasure was making it difficult.

Still, he pushed on and attempted to lay the expanse of his body on yours, still stroking you fast. It seemed like he forgot how much stronger than him you were, because you didn’t even budge an inch.

As this dawned upon him, you did the same to him while in his stupor, gently pushing forward to lay him down until he was completely horizontal on the bed. He put his free hand on your chest, and you stopped in your tracks, wondering if he wanted to stop.

But when he started trying to push you back and to the side, you understood it was all still part of the game. Steve’s face took on an annoyed expression, like he was truly bothered about not being strong enough to overpower you.

He decided to up the ante and released your cock, using now both hands to attempt to subdue you, opting to clutch your hips with his legs to gain enough momentum to toss you aside.

You didn’t move at all. Instead, all that did was rub your cocks together.

Steve moaned, starting to understand that it was a lost battle.

And you chuckled again, releasing his cock to hold yourself up over him. “See, I think it’d be easier if you just admitted defeat.”

Steve groaned, but it was clear that he was trying to hold back a smile. “Not a chance.” He thrashed on the bed, putting all his strength in his limbs for a strong shove.

He managed to push you aside for a second thanks to the momentum, but as soon as he wanted to imitate your previous position, you were on him again. You wrestled on the bed for some seconds. You were delighted with the small giggles he was releasing, knowing how fun this change felt to him.

You laughed back at him once you were just like before: holding yourself up over him. This time, your hands held his shoulders softly, but firmly, pressing him down into the mattress.

Steve’s hands shot up at you, but you quickly grabbed his wrists and put them to the sides of his head. When you did this, he quieted down, and his face took on an even darker shade.

You softened the grip on his wrists just to make sure he was alright with it, but he didn’t move them an inch. Instead, his body went lax under you.

It was such a heady sight. “I win.”

Steve blinked out of his stupor for a second. “Y-Yeah. I guess.” He tried to look annoyed, but he just looked like he was holding back a nervous smile.

“Do you surrender?”, you drawled out, getting close to him, close enough to breathe the same air as him.

His heart was beating so fast. “I guess,” he mumbled, trying to look like this was a hassle for him, but the pink on his face wasn’t receding.

“You guess?”

Steve gave you a look, like he was annoyed. Then, he thrashed once again, attempting to use the element of surprise to overthrow you once more, but you were prepared.

With the grip on his wrists, you held his writhing body down and turned him around on the bed, softly, an intoxicating contrast to what he was expecting.

Steve gasped, genuinely feeling small at the feel.

You managed to lay him down until you were enveloping his body with yours, your chest pressing against his back.

When Steve felt this, he gave you a moan he’d never heard himself make. His face was almost squished against the pillow, and the feeling of being utterly overpowered was making his thoughts go haywire.

You released his left hand while you gently twisted his right one until it was held against the low of his back. At the same time, your hard cock brushed against his right cheek on accident.

Steve gasped.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything weird right now.”

He was secretly relieved. You released his hand, which remained against his back even then, holding yourself up and your hips pushed off the bed just in case, so that your cock wouldn’t come in contact with him anymore. Steve noticed this but didn’t say anything at first, and he couldn’t after, when you took hold of his cock that was pressed in-between his belly and the mattress and started stroking it fast at once. He moaned loudly and freely.

“That’s it, baby. That’s so good.”

Steve moaned even louder at that. He didn’t know why that simple word made him feel all fuzzy inside. But you did.

He reached back with his left hand until he could touch your hips. “It’s— fine. You can…” He attempted to press you against him.

“You sure?”, you asked him; despite this, you complied immediately and pushed your hips against his ass, though you lowered your body a bit so that your cock wouldn’t be in direct contact with his ass.

“Yeah, but it’s— you can—” Steve pressed his face against the pillow from the embarrassment when he tried to push you higher up with his left hand behind him. “It’s okay if… but we don’t… Jesus, don’t make me say it.”

You chuckled. You pressed your body against him, angling your hips so that the length of your hard cock would be pressing between his cheeks, pointing downwards.

Steve almost shouted at the feel.

That was how you managed to make Steve feel even more helpless: your entire body pressed against the back of his against the bed led him to rut against your right hand in desperation.

You kissed his nape to give him some comfort. “Just this. I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

The back of his neck burned with abashment. “Yeah. You’re right. I mean, I think. I mean—”

You chuckled and gave his neck more little kisses. He released a small titter because of his nervousness. “Trust me. You aren’t.”

Steve bit his lip where you couldn’t see him. You just kept stroking him, the feeling of being enveloped by you adding on to his mental haze. He tentatively shifted his hips to chase more of the feel of your hand, but in doing so he also incidentally rubbed his ass on your cock.

Steve didn’t know why that pushed him so close to the edge.

You’d never heard Steve make such a sound— he was all but whimpering deliriously. Steve realized this and covered his mouth with his left hand, grabbing onto the sheets next to his head with his right one.

He was so adorable. You knew he was embarrassed from his own reactions to this change. “Does that feel good?”, you grunted next to his ear as you shifted your hips to rub against his rear again.

Steve blubbered something unintelligible, legs folding on their own, as if he was close.

You cackled at him. “Babe. I asked you a question.”

“What— Ah, fuck— Y-Yeah. Yeah.” Steve’s was all but writhing on the bed by that point. “Wh-Why does it feel so good?”

“We can talk about it later. For now…” Your hand was a blur between his belly and the mattress while you rubbed your cock on his ass. “… I want you to cum just like this. Come on, sweetness. Make a mess.”

You knew just how nonsensical he got when he came on a good day. But you didn’t know this would be a strong orgasm, so you weren’t prepared for the way he moaned, almost like it hurt, when he had the most intense orgasm he’d had to date, spurting lines upon lines of cum, as if you’d edged him for hours. God. His face was probably the best part, but you couldn’t see him from your position. Such a shame. His little whines would probably embarrass him if he had more coherence that moment.

After coming like a literal freight train for what seemed like minutes, you knew he was done when he relaxed on the bed. His breaths were quick and deep, like he couldn’t draw in enough air.

Your hard cock was twitching from its snug position between his cheeks, but you ignored it for the while. Your mouth started making its way to his, starting from his nape, where you left slow kisses, until you reached his red cheek. Steve was too out of it to respond.

You lifted yourself off his body, and he still didn’t acknowledge you. You gently manhandled his body and rolled it around, until he was lying on his back on the bed, next to the frankly impressive cumstain on the sheets. Steve’s eyes were closed and his breathing only then started to return to normal. You kneeled between his parted legs.

Steve finally opened his eyes, seeming to just then realize that his position had been changed without his knowledge.

“Back on the land of the living?”

He breathed in and out a couple of times before he chuckled, shyly, rolling his eyes at you. “Jesus, dude.” Steve took in the hard cock that was looming over his own spent one, the heat from yours so strong that he could feel it in the proximity. He bit his lip, extending a shaky hand forward and taking your cock in it. “You’re still…”

“Yeah,” you answered nonchalantly.

“I… let me…?” Steve looked up at you in question.

As if he ever needed confirmation from you. “Whatever you want, baby.”

He steeled himself and started stroking you, slowly at first, but quickly building up the pace until his hand was a blur on you.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip. “Won’t be too long, now.” Your hips freely pushed to and fro within the tunnel of his hand.

Steve was taken aback by this at first, but the visual rapidly turned the feelings inside him into something fuzzy and hot and.

And. Big.

And when you moaned in that low voice of yours, it was like one of the few remaining notions in his mind were broken once again: the contrast between a feeble and feminine voice against this gruff and masculine one was unmistakable. He welcomed this change too much. He’d thought he couldn’t get any more flustered, but he’d been wrong.

As you leant down and held yourself over Steve on your hands and knees, Steve thought he’d never felt smaller than at that moment. His heart was pounding so hard from the feeling of being caged in, but he —even with his terrible experiences with being trapped, confined, restricted in any way— felt safe, not cornered.

You opened your eyes just in time to see another one of those epiphanies he continuously had those days. You smirked at him, and Steve glanced at you before his eyes strayed downwards again, mesmerized with the sight of your cock thrusting into his fist.

Which. Well. Might have been just the tiniest beginning of a second epiphany that day.

“‘Find out something new?”, you grunted out, already close.

Steve looked up at you once more, mouth opening but then closing, biting his lip in that shy way you were so familiar with. “Maybe…”, he mumbled.

You gave him a low laugh before you bit your lip and closed your eyes, face twisted in bliss. “Getting close.”

Steve seemed to breathe faster at that. He only nodded, almost enthusiastically, and his hand stroked you even faster. He gave you a quick sultry look, and you were left wondering what it meant before his left hand went under the one he had on your member, and rolled your testes with it.

You growled at him, hearing his intake of breath at it, before you lent forward, closer to him, hovering only shy of a foot over him. You opened your eyes to see him looking almost frantic, unable to choose between looking at your face or at your cock, before you closed the distance and gave him a short, steamy kiss.

Steve whined a little when you withdrew, because you were suddenly coming on his stomach, grunting from the release. He kept stroking you through it, drawing in breaths from his open mouth as you added to the mess on his stomach.

His cock valiantly tried to fill for a second.

Once you were done, you smiled at him, noticing his sheepish expression. You rolled to the part of the bed that wasn’t stained with his cum and lay down on your side.

Steve’s eyes were shyly straying away from yours, but he wasn’t able to look away for too long, always coming back to your own or to the mess you made on his belly.

You used the hand that wasn’t stained with his cum to stroke a finger across his cheekbone. “So? What did you think?”, you asked him, as you reached behind you without looking to grab some tissues.

“W-Well…” He looked adorable. He lowered his face down to your chest, so hopelessly trying to hide the blush on his face, but it was useless. He giggled against your skin. “It was… something.”

You chuckled in sympathy. “Baby.”

“Hm.”

“Was there any point where you didn’t like any of it?”, you asked, specifically thinking of the part where you were rubbing yourself against his ass.

Steve’s eye peeked from your chest. He bit his lip to hide a smile, even though you couldn’t see it from your position, and shook his head.

“No? None at all?”

Steve knew what you were referring to. His face only got redder. “No. Actually…” He looked like he was about to say something, but quickly lost his courage and hid his face again. “N-Nevermind.”

“It’s okay to be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

He grumbled, embarrassed. “‘M not embarrassed.”

You could only chuckle at that. You kissed his forehead, and Steve laid his head in such a way that you could see him. “Whatever you say. I’m just saying there’s a first time for everything, and I recall you seemed to like a certain part a lot.”

Steve kicked his feet against the bed and he— he whined. Like it physically hurt him to hear you say this. He mumbled: “And what about it.”

You openly laughed at him. He was just so fun to tease. “Nothing. Just saying. There’s a whole world of possibilities you might have not thought about yet.”

God. Steve’s face was steaming hot by this point. He knew what you meant, but he couldn’t verbalize it, the sole idea setting off many different reactions in him, most of which were welcome, but made his heart pound fast at the same time, gave him the shivers.

But you knew he was probably drained, so you took his silence as a gentle dismissal for the day.

IV.

That last memory could be named ‘The Beginning Of It All’, because Steve feels like something fundamentally changed in him after you both were done that day, him staying up for a while after you started dozing off, lost in his thoughts.

These same thoughts invade his mind at every point of the day the next days that pass. At work, at home —alone, like always—, while going to run some errands. He can’t get that particular moment out of his mind, and it makes his face turn so red to just catch himself starting to think about it.

Because, first of all, he’s still wrapping his head around it. It being the fact that you were right: there is truly a world of possibilities he hasn’t completely thought about up to that moment. It being the fact that he’s starting to wonder how… some things might feel, and Steve finds himself almost steaming from bashfulness when he can finally find the courage to put it into words:

Fucked. He wants to know how it would feel like to be fucked.

He runs his hands through his hair, across his face, over his mouth, anything to try to somehow erase the red tint his face gets when he thinks about it.

It never works, of course. At work, Robin gives him that squinty look whenever she catches the most minuscule shift from his normal skin tone to anything other. Like a shark to blood.

“You know you can tell me anything, right, Stevie?”

“I know, Robbie. But maybe not this one?”

And his face goes the deepest shade imaginable after saying it and he tries to cover it, and Robin stews in her concern, but leaves it at that. She helps by offering to pull out the old reliable You’re Cool vs. You Suck board, to which Steve gently but exasperatedly refuses. Because he is cool, for once. He believes.

Some few days after The Beginning Of It All, Steve caves in. He’s just so desperate to know more about this particular fixation of his that has his mind going haywire, but he knows it has to be different.

He’s had anal with a few of the girls he’s had sex with, so he knows the difference between vaginal and anal penetration. Obviously. He won’t be able to involuntarily self-lubricate or dilate before being penetrated. He knows that.

He just doesn’t know what it entails. Before sealing the deal.

So Steve, in his eagerness to learn more, spends one of his weekend days travelling all the way down to Columbus, where he knows no one will recognize him, an almost two-hour-long trip just to have a semblance of anonymity.

How freeing it is, to be able to walk into a —though secluded— queer-friendly sex shop, just to buy a magazine where he’ll be able to read ‘Everything You Need to Know About Anal!”, and come out of it, full-incognito. He just hopes times will change in the future and he won’t have to hide so much for something so simple.

So, two hours later, when he’s back home and with a fresh new magazine in his hands that he treasures like a family heirloom, he gets comfortable on his bed after closing the door to his bedroom —as if his ever-absent parents would barge in at any moment.

And he reads.

Admittedly, the more he reads, the more he can feel his face start to heat up, albeit for a different reason now. Because he now knows what he needs to do. Before.

He giggles. He reads on. Discovers new things apart from the specific act of anal penetration, since the magazine focuses on gay sexual health in general. Is taken aback by a few things, mentally slaps himself on the face for not paying enough attention back in high school. Particularly reprimands himself for thinking that condoms are only useful for stopping pregnancies, hasn’t really thought about the possibility that there are sexual diseases and a whole epidemic going on, something that could have gotten to him even during the times that he would have sex with girls.

Finds out something that interests him way too much, another one of the things he glossed over at school, but is sure a lot more of his classmates would have as well:

‘The prostate. Just a quick stroke on this bad boy will have you seeing stars. Ask your partner to try it on you.’

Curious. Where is it, again?

Oh, right. Just about two inches into.

“Into…”, Steve mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn. He covers his face with the magazine and giggles, just like a girl with a crush. He lowers the mag until his eyes can peek from above it. His eyes stray anywhere and everywhere as he’s in deep thought.

Into. Steve hasn’t had any sort of stimulation on his behind other than some days ago, when you got him off while rubbing yourself against him, but he can clearly recall his own reaction to it. Such a strong response has to mean something. He just hopes it ends being all it was said to be.

His cock is starting to get hard from the thought. Just recalling that encounter has him feeling heady, growing inside his pants. Steve bits his lip. He lays the magazine on his chest and rubs the juncture between his thighs and groin with his hands while he thinks. The idea of fingering himself is growing more and more in his mind. He just has to give it a try.

A wild thought strays into his mind: the image of you thrusting two fingers in and out of him.

Steve releases a heavy breath. That vision has his cock throbbing.

He grabs the magazine and drops it beside him, on the mattress. Then, he quickly gets up and makes his way to the shower.

Previous preparations are done. Now comes the fun part. Hopefully.

Steve throws himself on the bed, still naked after the shower. His cock has remained on the beginnings of an erection all throughout, and it’s driving Steve crazy.

He settles until he’s half sitting up, half lying down on the center of the bed. He reaches to the side and opens his drawer, taking out the bottle of lube he has stored. Quickly, he opens it and pours a generous amount of the liquid on the fingers of his right hand, recalling what the magazine said about there never being enough lube for anal. He giggles a bit in the face of what he’s about to do.

With a heavy breath, Steve lowers his right hand down to his behind. He plants his feet on the bed to have a better approach. Then, he tentatively brushes his middle finger against the furl of his hole.

Steve bits his lip. It feels intense, and he hasn’t even started doing anything yet. He tries to relax, just in the way he’s read. Breathing in and out, he rubs the tip of his finger in circles, around his hole and occasionally venturing towards the center of it. Then, he steels himself, and starts pushing in.

He finds that the first finger enters without much trouble, perhaps a bit too easily, because he suddenly finds himself pushing it to the last knuckle on accident.

Steve gasps. It feels… equal parts good and weird. He covers his mouth with his free hand and giggles. He can’t believe he’s really doing this.

He waits for some seconds until he gets used to the feeling of his finger inside himself, and then starts pulling it out.

Okay. That feels downright weird.

Steve continues in spite of this, talking himself into enjoying this, trying to recall the feel of your hard cock rubbing between his cheeks. But it’s one thing to have another person do it to him while in a context where he was already hard, and another entirely different one to experiment with himself while he’s only now starting to feel pleasure.

He lowers his left hand to the discarded tube of lubricant on the bed. Steve does some gymnastics with his fingers, trying to open the lid with only one hand and to pour lube on that same hand, something that makes him spill some lube on the bed on accident. Oh, well. At least he gets some of it on his hand. When he’s done, he closes the lid with one wet hand and moves that same hand towards his cock. He encloses his member with his lubed hand, and that instantly brings him some pleasure.

But it’s not enough. It’s sort of difficult to stroke himself with his left hand, given that he’s right-handed.

Steve shakes his head. He thrusts his finger in and out of himself and tries to look for… anything that might give him some pleasure, but he simply can’t.

He thinks it’s because he only has one finger in him, so he puts his ring finger next to his middle one, squeezing together until he feels his rim give a little. It feels like a tight fit, but Steve pushes on, before he manages to fit the tip of his second finger inside him.

The stretch gives him pause. It certainly feels like a strain and it burns to a degree.

He doesn’t let that stop him and pushes forward, and he suddenly finds himself with two fingers inside him.

Steve breathes heavily. The stretch does something for him, but he doesn’t know if it’s something good or not. The only thing he knows is that his cock gives a little kick at the strain, but it’s too early to say if he really likes it, or if his body is just reacting naturally at this point.

So he waits and strokes himself slowly. His cock is only about half hard. Still, he holds on until he feels like he can move his right hand. He starts pulling his two fingers out and then back in at a leisured pace. There is undoubtedly something intense about the feeling. He keeps on thrusting slowly, in and out, still rubbing his cock at the same speed, and then starts a faster pace with his fingers.

Still. Nothing much.

He suddenly recalls what he read in the magazine. Right. The prostate. Two inches into.

Only, Steve doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel for. He presses forward, upward, but nothing really stands out.

Steve purses his lips, almost pouting. He was expecting something mind-blowing after the other day. He prods and thrusts some more, but it’s fruitless.

He reaches a sad conclusion: What if he doesn’t enjoy anal sex at all? Has that time just been a one-off?

Sighing, he pulls his fingers out, resigning himself to finishing himself with a mediocre handjob.

VI.

Steve’s dejected mood translates into most of his actions the next days. You’re the one who notices the most, when you visit him at Family Video today.

He’s alone in the store, Robin probably in the back room for her break, no clients in sight. He has his back to you, for once seeming to do his job and arranging VHS’s in a neat pile. That tells you all you need to know.

He senses someone behind him, but doesn’t turn around as he says: “Welcome. How may I help you?”

“I’d like the longest and horniest movie you have, please.”

Steve jumps at your voice. He quickly turns around, and whatever light scowl that might have been present in his face is instantly swapped for a nervous smile.

But you can see some slight tension on his face, so you say: “Don’t worry. There’s no other people here.”

“Yeah,” Steve starts, his voice almost tight, “…I know.”

You think his attitude is a bit strange. On any other normal day he would’ve been vibrating with energy just by having you in his proximity, but today it seems like he’s just subdued. Unhappy for some reason.

So you lean on the counter and notice his intake of breath, as well as the subtle reddening of his cheeks, something that will never change regardless of his mood.

“What’s got my pretty boy so down?”

Steve valiantly tries to grin at you, but it sort of comes out as a grimace. He hums. “I can’t really talk about it at work.”

You hum, too. “Wanna tell me about it after work?”

Steve bites his lip, like it’s a hard decision for him. Now you’re convinced that there’s something truly wrong going on. Finally, he decides. “Yeah. Same time as always?”

“Yep.” You subtly brush your fingers against his hand on the counter, the most overt thing you’ll try in public, knowing how nervous he gets about it. Steve sighs happily when you do. Then, you lower your voice, almost to a murmur. “I’ll give you an extra good time, just to see you smile. And, well. Make other sorts of faces, too.”

Your angel turns red. He giggles against his own shoulder, giving you the first display of genuine happiness.

You chuckle as well, as you turn to leave.

Later in the evening, Steve shows up in your doorstep, and you can’t help the way you practically drag him inside your house. He laughs when you do.

As soon as you close the door, you’re on him. Steve’s gasp is muffled by your lips, but he composes himself to respond in kind. You feel him opening his mouth to push his tongue onto yours, which surprises you, since he’s not usually the one to start such contact. Not that you’re complaining. You brush your tongue against his and feel his moan vibrate throughout your body. As if on instinct, his body presses against yours, but as soon as you feel the beginnings of a hard-on —which, surprisingly, isn’t yours—, he withdraws at once.

Steve gives you a nervous half-smile. “Hi,” he says, so shyly it gives you whiplash.

You chuckle. “Hey, there.” You lean down to give him one last peck on his lips. When you separate, you take his hand to start leading him further into your house. “Wanna sit on the couch? Watch a movie? Or…”

He stays in silence for some seconds, starting to look all too awkward for some reason.

You rub the hand you have in yours with your thumb, the question obvious in your face.

“Um…” Steve looks down, abashed. “Wh-Whatever you want.”

You purse your lips. “Hm. No offense, sweetheart, but that was the least convincing thing you’ve ever said.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re not wrong.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. That’s enough to get you going. “Well… we could…”

“Yeah?”

His face does a funny thing and he releases a titter. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

You want to tease him more, truly, but you feel as though whatever had him so crestfallen today might have drained him for the day, so you settle with: “Not this time, sweet thing. Let’s just go to my room so we can talk.”

“Yeah…” Steve’s face takes on a deep shade of red.

“Really,” you try to sound reassuring as you start walking to your bedroom with him in tow. “Whatever you want. We can talk… or we can talk.”

He laughs openly. “Right.”

You arrive at the door of your room. Steve looks at you, so bashful it’s almost painful to watch him.

You both cross the threshold. “Want me to close the door?”, you ask, knowing about his usual want of privacy, even though you lived alone.

He nods, meekly. So you close the door and stand in front of him, taking his hands in yours, expectant of whatever he’s going to say, because you know that he has it on the tip of his tongue. “Wanna lie down? Or sit down for a bit?”

Steve understands. He bites his lip. “Um…” He stays in silence for a while after that, so you take it as a refusal. You’re truly worried at this point.

You give him some encouragement. “Is anything wrong, sweetheart? Or was it that way at work?”

“Uh…” Steve looks skittish. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I guess you could say so. But it’s…” He heaves out a breath and looks down. “God. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Anything you wanna tell me, baby, know that I’ll never judge you for it.” You rub circles on the insides of his wrists.

“Okay…”

God. He’s so quiet it’s almost creeping you out. You want him to say what’s on his mind so bad, but you don’t want to rush him, so you just stand there, awaiting his next words.

“So, um…” Steve purses his lips, feeling the tips of his ears burning. He still doesn’t look up. “You know the other day, when we, um…”

Your heart sinks. You’re so sure he’s going to say something along the lines of ‘I hated this and that and I didn’t want to say it at the time’. You just stand there, trying to not let the panic show on your face. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t notice, since his eyes are glued to the floor. “Wh-When we were…” He exhales, and it comes out a bit whiny. “It’s so hard to say this.”

You decide to put him out of his misery. “Something you didn’t like?”

At that, Steve looks up at you quickly in confusion. “Um. No? Actually…” He bites his lip, unable to even give you a nervous smile. “I, um… might have liked it too much.”

You try to not let the relief you feel be too obvious. “Oh.”

“Y-Yeah. So, I, um… I might have… done more research? And…” He whines from the embarrassment.

“Yeah?”, you encourage him, because this ‘research’ he’s talking about feels just too good to be true. “That’s amazing. What did you find?”

“Well…” Steve looks you in the eye for one second before he decides it’s too much for him, whines again, and hides his face in your chest.

You chuckle in compassion. You kiss the top of his head. “Go on?”

Steve takes a deep breath. He tilts his head so you can see some of his face. “Well, I kind of… tried some stuff.”

“Some stuff?”, you press on, almost desperate to know more. “That’s great, babe. What’s wrong with it?”

At the reminder that there is something wrong, Steve seems to deflate. “I’m getting there.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

He chuckles softly. Next, he encircles your torso with his arms, noticing how you’ve done the same to him. “I kind of… I don’t know… liked it but also didn’t, so it was kind of disappointing. And I got really bitchy afterwards because I thought I had it down.” Steve looks up at you with the saddest, most adorable eyes from his position on your chest as he kept speaking freely. “And I’m also kind of mad at myself because I think I did it right, but it wasn’t what I expected. And…” He seems to get shy again. “And I wanted to… do more… with you… but I don’t know if I’m doing it wrong, or if it’s something I really don’t like.”

You card your fingers through his hair, knowing how hard it is for him to talk about something like this. You lift his head, with your right hand under his chin, and let his pretty face look at you. “You’re so brave for telling me this, honey.” You give him a slow, sweet kiss on the lips that seems to soothe his nerves. Now, you let him know just how supportive you are. “Just to make sure, is this something you want to like? Or is it something you feel like you have to like to make me happy?” You raise your eyebrow at him, jokingly scolding him, and he knows what you’re about to say, because he looks equally exasperated and amused. “What did we say about expectations and roles?”

“I know,” he says, a small genuine smile on his face. He bites his lip. “I want to like it. For myself.”

“Good.”

Steve unconsciously catches his breath at that and carries on. “I’m just not sure if I’m doing it right.”

“Okay,” you conclude. “So let’s get this straight: you’re talking about…” Your hands lower down his back, until your fingertips are touching the rim of his pants. “Playing with this?” They stray lower, until you can feel up his cheeks on your hands, over the denim. “As in, anal?”

Steve’s face gets so red once the word is out. He nods.

“Okay. Did you use a toy? Or fingers? Something else?”

He hides his face in your chest again. “F-Fingers.”

“Cool. What did it feel like?”

Steve’s eyes stray downwards, and he chews on his lower lip, trying to find the words. “It was… sort of intense? It was kind of good but also weird. And I was expecting it to feel a lot better since, you know…” Steve looks like he’s about to break into nervous laughter. “But… I don’t know what I was expecting, honestly.”

You purse your lips in thought. “Did you reach your prostate?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. I know about it since I read— I mean… during my research…” His lips tremble in a shy smile.

You chuckle. He was just so adorable. “What would this research be, if I may know?”

“Well. Kind of… a magazine?”

“Ooh. And did it tell you where it was?”

“It did. But I just couldn’t find it for some reason.”

You hum while carding your fingers through his hair. You’re almost sure this entire talk might be doing something to Steve, but you don’t want to push just yet. “That might be a very good reason why you didn’t like it that much. The prostate is extremely important for this.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. If you’ve never felt naturally inclined to do any sort of anal play, it’s most probable that you might not feel pleasure just from anal itself. You’d need something more.”

Steve puts the tiniest bit of space between you two to look at you better. In doing so, you notice his state of arousal, which proves that he is a bit pent up over this.

When he realizes this, he shifts in place, subtly trying to cover himself, looking at you sheepishly.

You chuckle, grabbing his chin and laying a hot kiss on his lips. “Baby. ‘This talk doing something for you?”

Steve bites his lip and shyly nods.

Your hands tentatively slide under his shirt, resting on the sides of his hips within it. “Tell you what. Someday… if you want, that is… I could help you with this. We could play a little to see if we find a fix.”

At this, Steve sucks his lips into his teeth, like he’s trying not to laugh, and his face takes on a deep shade of pink. “Um… well…”

“Yeah?” You’re eager now, knowing he’s onto something.

“You could… right now, if you want?”

“Oh, babe.” Your hands slide underneath his polo shirt until they reach the middle part of his back. “You mean…?”

“I… kind of… today, I… before I came here…” Steve fidgets with the rim on the back of your shirt. “Again. W-With fingers— Like— I tried to see if…”

You give him a steamy kiss to put him out of his misery. He whines lowly within it, and moans when you open his mouth to rub your tongue against his. You separate too soon for his liking. “Yeah? Played with yourself?”

Steve is so abashed he can only nod.

“That’s so hot. I bet you’re so pent up right now.” Your hands return to the rim of his polo, and start pulling it up to his midriff, looking at him in question, to which he eagerly nods. You take off his shirt and leave it on the bed.

He’s on you the moment you return to him. His sudden kiss leaves you breathless, but it only makes you chuckle. His jittery hands pull at the rim of your shirt and you comply, quickly taking it off.

After some moments of haste, you’re both completely bare to each other, returning to that prolonged kiss you can’t get enough of. Your hands stray lower and lower down his back.

You withdraw long enough to breathe out: “Cool if I do this?”, before lowering your hands to the top of his cheeks.

Steve gasps. He nods, almost vibrating against you.

You chuckle, and take each of his glutes in a firm handful each.

He whines as you play with him, looking at you from under his lashes. You lean forward, and lay heavy kisses down his neck.

“Oh, fuck.” A little bite has his legs twitching on the floor. “Fuck!” A long lick from the hollow of his clavicles to the side of his jaw while you massage each handful has him moaning intelligibly.

Two fingers of your right hand suddenly rubbing against his hole have him jumping almost a foot in the air. “Okay?”

Steve’s moans are airy. “That’s…” He breathes in and out as you rub up and down the sensitive skin. “G-Good.”

You finish this with a steamy kiss on his lips, before laying your hands on his hips. “Let’s go to the bed?”

“Yeah.”

After you’re done leading him to the side of the bed that has the night table next to it, you both sit down and continue kissing and caressing each other for some seconds.

You know Steve’s impatient. You have to make this good for him, have to prove to him that he could totally like this, so, after you withdraw from his lips, without taking your eyes off him, you reach out and open the drawer, taking out a tube of lube and a condom.

Steve’s eyes land on the square packet, almost nervously.

“Don’t worry, babe. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

He bites his lip. “Um… what is it, then?”, he asks, apprehensively.

“Let me tell you.” You leave the objects in the space between you and Steve on the mattress. With your right hand, you shift Steve’s legs to part them. He lets you, albeit hesitantly, unsure of what you’re planning. You grab the condom and show it to him. “Sometimes, people who have any sort of anal play with others might use condoms for whatever they’re gonna be inserting into the other, even if it’s not a dick.”

“Really?”, he sighs out, almost relieved.

“Yeah. They might use it for toys or even fingers. So I’m asking you now: do you want me to wear this when I’m fingering you?”

Steve’s face burns at your bluntness, but he takes the time to think it over. “Hm. Is it necessary?”

“Not as much as it is for anal sex per se. Depends on how worried you are about contracting STI’s, which is pretty much a null possibility. Our results looked pretty good, if you ask me.”

Indeed. The doctors cleared you both something like a week ago.

“It’s whatever you want, babe. I’m okay with either.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Maybe you could not wear it? I kind of… need to feel it properly if I’m gonna be doing it later on my own.” Steve turns giggly as his face darkens.

You chuckle as well. “Now, that’s a pretty picture.” You start leaning forward into Steve, hearing his giddy intake of breath when he feels you rearranging him on the bed, until he’s half lying down in the center of it. You muse for a second. “In fact… I’d be totally okay if you tried that right now.” Steve’s mouth quirks in a demure smile. “You know, to see what you’re doing wrong.”

He rolls his eyes. “Of course. Just for that.” He bites his lip, pink on the face, because he will do it, just because your encouragement makes him all warm inside. He grabs your lube, pouring some on the fingers of his right hand, and then leaves it aside. “Fair warning, though. It might be kind of unsexy. I’m gonna be flagging.”

“That’s normal. It’s not easy to remain hard just from anal.”

He smiles. “Yeah, well…”, he trails off.

And he starts. He lowers both hands to the area near his groin, his left one going for his cock, stroking himself in order to relax, before rubbing the lubed fingers of his right hand on his hole. He exhales.

You wonder at the sight. Steve lightly squirms from your pointed gaze, but he continues on nonetheless. His middle finger enters him without much trouble, due to having played with himself previously. He doesn’t make much noise, apart from the occasional exhalation.

“How’s that feel?”, you ask him.

“Underwhelming.” Steve’s expression resembles a grimace, but he valiantly tries to give you a little grin. He quickly makes way for a second finger, which takes a bit longer to enter, but when he does, you can see the subtle shift in his features. He looks like it’s a bit of a strain for him. “It feels only sort of better right now.”

“Because of the stretch?”

“Yeah.”

You hum. The visual is breathtaking. If only Steve could see himself right now, he’d know that you don’t need much more than this to go. Still, you feel kind of bad for thinking this when he’s clearly not enjoying it thoroughly. “Try to search for your prostate. It should feel like a spongy patch.”

“I’m trying, now.” Steve shifts his hand, probably moving his fingers inside him.

After some seconds, you see his shoulders slump.

“I can’t.” He sounds petulant about it.

You click your tongue. “Poor baby. Maybe I could do it for you?” And his face takes on the red hue it’d lost during his act. He bites his lip. “If you want, of course.”

Steve licks his lips. That certainly sounds nice. He nods, biting his lip as he takes his fingers out, wincing at the empty feel. Once they’re out, he looks around, hand hovering in the air for some seconds, before he lays that hand on his thigh, not quite knowing what to do.

You pull some tissues from the box atop the night table and give them to him, to which he looks grateful and cleans his hand.

“Just leave it there,” you tell him, and he drops the tissue next to him on the bed.

Now, you lean forward. Just as you were expecting, he gives you that demure expression before you take his lips in a slow kiss, opening his mouth just in time for him to lay his tongue on yours. You kiss him for some moments, rubbing your hands up and down his torso, playing with the hair on his chest and his nipples until you’ve got him panting against your mouth.

Before you withdraw completely, you bite his lower lip, to which he gasps. “Now I’ve got you all hot and bothered.” Steve smiles, head tilted down to his chest. “Were you all hot and bothered when you tried to finger yourself, too?”

“Sort of. Not as much as right now.” Steve parts his legs wider, something that has you ready to go.

“I’m flattered.” Still leaning into his space, sharing the same air, your right hand sneakily goes down his belly until you can grasp his hard cock. He breathes out, minutely thrusting up and down into your fist. Your fondling doesn’t last for too long. Your right hand releases his cock and slides over his testes, lower and lower, until you’ve got four main fingers resting on the juncture of his thigh and hip and your thumb against his perineum. “I want you to feel something.”

Steve gives you a heady look, heart almost beating out of his chest at the soft contact. “What?”, he whispers.

Your thumb presses against his perineum.

Steve’s body seizes. He gives you the prettiest, loudest moan, and his body curls into your hand for a moment before dropping on the bed, at the same time that you release the pressure.

“Fuck… What the fuck is that?” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you in wonder.

“That is your prostate.” You smile at him.

“Oh my God.” Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah. Now imagine that, but…” You muse for a second. “Ten times more intense.”

Steve gives you an almost panicked look, but you know it’s in the best way, because he finds himself muttering: “Holy fuck…”

“Now you know why so many gay men like to bottom.” Your thumb rubs the skin of his perineum without pressing forward, something that makes Steve antsy with pleasure. Then, your hand slides downward, until your thumb can rub against the tight furl of his hole.

Steve bites his lip to hold back his desperate moan.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, you’ll see. I bet I could make you come just from your prostate.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out. “Is that even possible?”

“Yeah. After this, you’ll be able to do it to yourself. Trust me. Once you start, you can never stop. It just feels so good.” Your thumb presses in without much intent; you only do it to hear Steve’s frantic breathing increasing. “With time, your body might learn how to get pleasure just from penetration alone.”

“Ah, fuck. I can— I can totally see it.”

“Yeah.” You lay a heavy kiss on his lips. “I could get you all needy when you do.” Your hand now rests in front of his ass, middle and ring finger rubbing up and down his hole. His legs twitch. “Make you want a real cock in place of fingers. If you want,” you clarify when you spot Steve’s big eyes glancing at you with something that looks like nervousness, which, in reality, is pure unadulterated want.

He nods fervently. He subtly pushes his hips towards you, letting you know how ready he is for you to start.

So you do. You quickly grab the tube and pour lubricant on the fingers of your right hand. As soon as you press the tips of two fingers against his hole, his hips twitch, and he makes the smallest sound that has your cock throbbing.

“Good. Let’s just start with one since my fingers are thicker.”

God. Steve seems to only now recall this fact. It only serves to turn him even more flustered. He nods.

The tip of your middle finger starts pressing forward. To be fair, it’s not too difficult to breach him, since he played with himself using two fingers before he arrived, but doing it himself is so different from feeling someone else do it for him.

When the tip of your finger enters him, his lungs seem to run out of air. He clenches harshly around you.

“I’m gonna need you to relax, baby.”

Steve pants. “I’m trying. It’s just… so intense.”

You understand him, of course. Your left hand goes to his cock and you start stroking him at a leisured pace.

He gives you the smallest moan. Once you feel like he won’t clamp down on you, you continue entering him with your finger, until it’s down to the last knuckle.

Steve keeps on breathing heavy, but there’s a small smile on his face. “Oh my God. That’s so…”

“How is it?”

“Better than on my own.”

You nod. “I wanna put two in before I start feeling for your prostate. I promise it’s gonna feel real good like that.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods with a blush high on his face.

You pull your middle finger out until only the tip is in. Your ring finger rubs softly against his rim, next to your middle one, before you start pushing both fingers forward.

Steve clenches down, gritting his teeth from the small strain.

“Hm. Can’t have you clamping down on me like this, sweetheart. How about you try to push out a bit?”

“‘Push out’? Oh my God,” Steve laughs, embarrassed. Covers his mouth but does as he’s told.

Your two fingers push in to the last knuckle way too easily after this, so much so that Steve’s left panting, his arms buckling and ending up having to lean on his right elbow.

“Oh my God,” Steve repeats. His cock is only half-hard by now; in spite of this, he feels it kicking at the stretch.

You still your two fingers inside him, waiting for him to get used. When you hear Steve’s heavy breathing calm down, you decide to start thrusting them in and out.

He clenches down and makes small whines.

“Too much?”, you ask softly, as you stop your motions.

Steve gives you a half-smile, half-grimace. “Hm… I don’t know, honestly.”

You think you see some of his previous frustration seep into his expression, so you decide to not tease him anymore.

Your fingertips press against the upper part of his walls. Steve bites his lower lip, knowing what you’re trying to do.

It takes some long seconds of exploration, but when it happens, it’s a sight to behold.

Steve shouts. His face is the best part: pinched tight in a perfect mix between shock and pleasure. His entire body twitches against your hand. His legs kick for a second, and his cock hardens in front of you, before he slumps against the bed.

“Holy fuck,” is all he can pant out, left hand against his beating heart.

“There it is.” You smirk at Steve, and he only has a brief second to catch his breath and look at you in euphoric torment before you’re suddenly thrusting right against that spot, focusing on bringing the most prolonged and intense reactions out of him.

And you certainly fulfill this task to the maximum, if the long, whiny moans coming out of your boyfriend are indicative enough. Steve grabs at his own knees to try to keep himself as open as possible, because the forceful twitches of his body have him closing them without meaning to, too uncoordinated to do anything other than suffer from pleasure. When he can’t even coordinate his hands anymore just for that, he has no option but to thrash on the bed.

This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. Steve’s expressions are some of the prettiest, most arousing you’ve had the honor of witnessing. The way his eyebrows pinch and his eyes shut tight, mouth open to let out airy moans, is something that won’t leave your mind alone for the foreseeable future.

Steve opens those beautiful eyes just in time to beg you with them to not stop, and you don’t need any verbal ratification to understand.

Your fingers move in circles against the bundle of nerves, and his legs shake so bad you’re afraid he might start cramping at any given moment. Steve is laid out on the bed, almost unable to comprehend the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, unable to even open his eyes to witness this.

“Oh my God,” is all he can moan. It’s so endearing, the way he keeps his left hand over his chest, like he’s trying to will his heart into not beating so fast.

“Ever thought it could feel like this?”

“N-No. Not at all— fuck!” His left hand leaves his chest and goes up to his mouth, covering it, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I-It feels… Fuck, it feels kinda weird too, like I’m gonna…” Steve takes his hard cock in his right hand, gritting his teeth when he feels like there’s going to be a rush of something other than cum in any second.

You chuckle. “That’s normal.” You softly take his right hand in your free one, leaving it aside without much resistance. “Look at that. You’re all hard just from this. That’s so good.” Steve breathes out a series of short moans behind his hand after you say this, looking at you with a bit of newfound shyness, even now that he’s laid out, taking your fingers in him.

“Y-You think it’s good?” He squirms when you give slow, deep thrusts against his prostate.

“Oh, baby. It is. It’s so good. You’re doing so good for me.”

Sweet boy. Does he really think covering his face with one hand will hide him from you noticing his deep blush?

You give him the quietest chuckle. “Look at this for one second, babe?”

Steve lowers his hand until only his mouth is being concealed, looking at you while debating himself on doing it or not, but he ends up bringing it down to hold himself up on quivering arms while you give him short, less intense thrusts with your fingers.

He leans up until he’s half sitting up, looking at your wrist.

“Would you look at that,” you drawl out, pointing at your moving hand with a nod.

Steve looks. His cock releases a steady stream of pre-cum at the sight.

Because right now, he’s looking at you doing to him the same thing he used to do to so many girls: you’re finger-fucking him with the two fingers in the middle, index and pinky ones pressed flat against the sides of them.

Just like a girl.

Steve feels faint at the sight. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh, yeah?” You resume a fast, intense pace, your fingers making squelching noises when your palm meets his skin.

Steve his moaning through his teeth, unable to hold himself up anymore and leaning back on his trembling arms, on his elbows. His legs twitch restlessly, and he’s helpless to stop himself.

He grits his teeth not only at the pleasure, but at the intense feeling growing on him with each passing second. His right hand rests on his heavy cock. “I— I c-can’t— I really feel like I’m gonna…”

You know what he’s referring to. “It’s okay. Just let it happen. I promise it’s nothing bad.”

Steve trembles, writhes, sways from one side to the other one as he tries to fight the feeling. “I— can’t.”

The truth is, Steve can. He’s just too scared about the novelty of this one orgasm, because he knows it’s not going to be gentle on him, and it’s something so new it frightens him. The thought of its magnitude makes his heart beat even faster and has him terrified at the same time.

“Okay, baby.” Your left hand goes on his cock, and you start rubbing him up and down quickly.

“Ah, fuck— I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You chuckle. “You did so good, baby.”

Steve’s body starts curling in itself. “Ah—! Did I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Before Steve’s overwhelmed eyes, you slide down the bed until your face is at the same level as his cock.

“You were so good for me. You deserve a reward.”

And you just manage to give him a little suck while you stroke him and finger him, right on his glans, before his eyes roll back and he’s cumming harder than he’s ever had.

The noises he makes are so— animalistic. His face crumples in the most euphoric agony, and his body curls against your head, like he can’t take such amount of pleasure, like he’s trying to push you off.

But he isn’t.

He comes, and comes, and comes into your mouth, his orgasm seeming to never end, and his own body not giving him a second of respite. You just swallow as much cum as he’ll give you, because you just can’t stop giving him pleasure, either, still bobbing your head up and down in short strokes to prolong this. Your fingers haven’t stopped, either. You’re pretty sure you might be overdoing it by this point, but the way he can’t stop moaning and whimpering as you keep on rubbing circles against his gland tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

At last, his body stops twitching so much. He drops on the bed. You take this as your cue to lift off him, licking the last traces of his cum off your lips before you give his slumped face a smile, removing your fingers from inside him.

God. Steve’s eyes are so glazed over behind barely-opened eyelids that you wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t focus his sight for minutes after this. His chest heaves quickly on the mattress, left hand loosely on the left side of it, no doubt trying to calm down his thumping heart.

You can’t help yourself. You slide up all the way until you’re kneeling before him, and your right hand lowers to your painfully-hard cock.

He looks like he just got fucked.

Steve comes to only seconds after you’ve started a quick pace with your hand.

You chuckle at his barely-there expression. “That was a strong one, wasn’t it?”, you grunt out, already feeling close.

Steve’s breathing doesn’t get any slower than as it is right now. He reaches forward with a trembling right hand, hovering under your cock.

“Just rest, babe. You can barely move.”

“No, I… I need to. Didn’t even touch you yet.” He looks sheepish. “Sorry. I get so stupid when I’m horny, I forget to do anything else.”

You give him a wolfish grin. “That’s not a problem at all.” You feel a pull at your gut. “In fact, I’d say it’s hot as fuck. But if you really want to…” You take his lax right hand in yours and manipulate it until it’s circling your cock.

You then start fucking his fist.

Steve’s mouth opens in a silent gasp as he feels the friction of your cock thrusting in and out of the tunnel of his fingers. His spent cock makes a brave attempt of filling again.

Only a few more thrusts are enough to have you grunting, increasing in volume as the only warning you can give him before you’re coming long lines on his torso.

Steve gasps at this. The heat that hits his chest, along with the visual of your cock virtually fucking him, is enough to have him almost dipping into a gentler state of mind, something that makes him panic for the briefest second before he’s pulled out of that place when he hears you grunt out for the last time.

You didn’t notice his predicament, so when you come to and take note of Steve’s spooked eyes, you take his drenched hand in yours. “Babe, you okay?”, you ask him, concerned.

Steve nods, reassuring. “Yeah. That was just… kind of intense.” He chuckles. A blush sits high on his cheeks as he looks at you, at the same time that he brings his soaked hand close to his lips. “Now it’s my turn,” he says, albeit a bit uncertainly, referring to when you swallowed him.

“You don’t have to.” But fuck if the visual doesn’t make your spent cock throb again.

He doesn’t answer. Only looks at you with the most smoldering expression on his face while he opens his mouth, brings his cum-stained fingers into it, sucks, swallows, and…

Tries to hide a grossed-looking grimace. “Um.”

You openly laugh at him, dropping next to him on the bed while he still has you in stitches.

Steve hits you on the chest with that same hand while he pouts. “Don’t— fucking laugh, man. I was trying to have a moment.” But he’s trying to hold back a laugh as well. “How the hell did you swallow… that so easily?”

You try to calm down enough to answer. “You just get used to the taste.”

His mouth purses, and his grimace just makes you start laughing again. “Is that what I taste like, too? Jesus. I mean—! No offense.”

Steve can only hide his own smile with a pout when that just makes you laugh harder.

VII.

Steve’s newfound good mood is contagious. Robin is almost afraid at this point. She thinks his mood swings are so over the place as of lately that he needs some sort of emotional support. Continuously, she asks him if he’s really feeling fine, to which he answers with nonchalance.

He obviously can’t tell her exactly what’s got him so happy.

It’s not just a single thing. It’s not just the fact that you helped him overcome his frustration after being so pent up.

It’s also the fact that, yes, he recently found out that he could do it himself…

And yes. He can get aroused just from penetration alone.

In fact, Steve’s almost embarrassed by how much his libido has gone up these past few days, namely because he now actually craves penetration at times.

He bites his lip on his way home from work, pupils dilated as he fights to keep his hard-on down within the privacy of his car, because he wants it right now. He wants to use his fingers on himself, wants to keep adding to feel the stretch.

Wants to get ready for you.

So he doesn’t bother to get comfortable before he climbs out his car in a haste, almost forgetting to close his entrance door with key before going up the stairs, heading straight for the shower.

Steve is splayed on the bed and has two fingers inside himself, this time from his left hand, so that he can stroke himself easily with his right one. He’s done this exact thing every single day this week, attempting to imitate your movements from a week ago, hoping to replicate that glorious moment.

It’s never the same as if you were the one doing it to him, but it still makes him come harder than all the previous years before this.

Currently, he’s scissoring himself open, gasping out at the small stretch. He has his eyes to the ceiling, picturing you instead of him. Your two thick fingers felt so amazing in him, stretching him out so much more than he could with his own.

Steve recalls the feel of your cock in his hand, so big he almost can’t close his fingers around it completely.

Oh, fuck. He always forgets how big you are. The size of it scares him a little, but when he’s so horny like this he feels like he could take you, at all costs.

Still. He needs to prepare for it if he’s really going to ask you for it later.

So he pulls his two fingers out, until only the tip of them are in, and tightly presses his index against them, gently thrusting in to get all three of them inside him at the same time. It’s a snug fit, and he finds it’s more difficult to add something as scant as a single finger inside, but he presses on.

It burns, but Steve manages to push three fingers in to the last knuckle.

And then, he wants more. Because the stretch, which has become more intense now, sets off different reactions in him that he could have never imagined.

And so he doesn’t wait long enough to get used to the current stretch, and he tries to push in the last finger, his pinky one into himself. But he finds that it’s sort of too much, the strain he puts on himself causing mixed, overwhelming sensations, but even that doesn’t stop him.

With a great amount of mental effort, he slips the last finger into himself, and—!

And it’s such a big stretch that it has him hissing behind gritted teeth, and it still doesn’t stop him as he starts thrusting in and out of himself, not waiting to get used to the pressure as he strokes his cock faster and faster—

Steve cums without even reaching his prostate. He feels his hole clench repeatedly, tight around his own fingers, at the same time he releases onto his chest, heaving in gasps from an open smiling mouth because it feels so good.

When he’s done, he slumps against the bed, fingers pulling out but pushing in one last time as he feels an overwhelming current of painful pleasure from it, and isn’t that an idea for another time?

At last, he pulls out completely, a resolute thought resounding in his mind:

Steve needs you to fuck him.

He doesn’t even attempt to wait in order to not look so pent up. He calls you only one hour later.

He breathes out: “Hi,” before you can even exchange greetings and ask who it is.

“Hey, baby,” you chuckle. “You sound eager.”

“Well… maybe.”

You hum in agreement, now eager as well, sensing he’s going to say something you’re going to like a lot. “Why would that be?”

“Um… well, you see…” The way he’s speaking tells you he’s probably blushing; you just know him like that. There’s a brief silence after this, before he continues. “Can I… If you’re free, I mean…”

“Yes?”, you say teasingly.

“I was… I was wondering if I could…”

“Yeees?”

You hear something that sounds like a mix between a whine and a groan. “You’re going to make me say it.”

“Yep.” Your voice now takes on a lower, more smoldering quality. “If you want something, you have to ask for it, baby.”

There’s an intake of breath on the other side of the line. Then, the smallest of whimpers. “Okay,” he croaks out. “Do you think I could come over?”

“Sure. Movie, snacks, and cuddles it is.”

He’s so fun to tease. You obviously know what he wants, but it’s just so fulfilling to hear the petulant groan he gives you. “Not what I meant…”, is his almost inaudible response.

“Sorry. I didn’t quite catch that. Can you repeat it for me?” Your face hurts from the way you’re smiling so widely.

On the line, he groans, and you hear a series of… taps?

Oh, he’s probably kicking his feet against the floor, just in the way he does when he’s so abashed it physically hurts him.

You openly laugh at him. “Alright. No more teasing. Come over already.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Just don’t stretch yourself too much. I wanna have my fun, too.”

“Holy fuck—” is the last thing you hear before he hangs up on you.

You’re left laughing loudly.

At last, Steve steps foot on the threshold of your house, finally about to get what he’s been aching for.

He raises his hand to knock, but he’s taken aback when the door opens in his face before he can do so.

It seems he’s not the only eager one.

“Hey, there.”

“Hi,” he answers, bashfully. It hits him only now, that he’s about to do this. He tries to cover it with a smug expression. “Were you waiting for me behind the door?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Nooo. Why would you think that?” You put your right hand on the low of his back to guide him in before he can answer. “Just come inside already.”

Steve snorts, and his face takes on a deep shade of red as he mumbles: “Pretty sure that’s my line— I mean.”

You give him a wolfish smile. You close the door, and immediately you push him against it, leaning into his space without kissing him, only giving him a pointed look that he squirms under. “You know, you’re being a lot more overt than usual, did you know?” You lean down, your lips almost brushing his. “Why’s that? Hm? Something on your mind?”

Steve makes that shy, quivering smile and tops it off with the straying eyes. It might be seen as part of this little game, but you know Steve well enough to know that he’s feeling truly bashful right now. “You know what it is,” he whines out.

“Hm, but I don’t. I think you should spell it out for me.” Your right hand goes under his chin. You tilt his head to be facing yours in a better way, using your thumb to rub against his skin. By this point, you’re positive that you can try out something related to his glaring praise kink. “Eyes on me, sweet thing.”

He moans airily. Steve looks at you, seeming to want to obey you at all costs, even if that makes his face burn and his heart feel like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

“Tell me, baby.” You speak with your mouth directly onto his, in a sensual caress of sorts.

Steve heaves out. “I— want you to fuck me.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, you push your lips onto his in a steamy kiss that has him closing his eyes from the intensity. His arms wrap around your neck, hands going down your back to grab at whatever part of your shirt he can. Your hands, conversely, hold onto the sides of his hips, quickly sliding under his polo to stroke up his ribs.

He moans within the kiss, which finishes too soon for his liking.

“That’s so good, baby. You’re such a good boy for me.”

Steve almost yells from how loud he moans. Rushes to lean his face on the side of your neck, almost mortified by his own reaction. The tip of his right shoe kicks softly against the floor.

You chuckle next to his ear. “You like me calling you ‘good’?”

He doesn’t remove his face from your shoulder; he only nods against it, blushing so hard you can see it spread down his nape.

You chuckle against his ear. “That’s good to hear. Now, be good and follow me to my room.”

Steve’s eye peeks from against your shoulder. He’s feeling so sheepish he almost can’t speak. “Okay,” he croaks out lowly.

You lean back some until he can no longer hide into your neck, enough that you can see the deep shade of pink his face has taken. Your right arm goes around his waist now; you use this leverage to lead him towards your bedroom. “Feeling fine?”, you have to ask while you walk, because you know that this is a very big step, and that he probably needs the highest level of reassurance.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I just… You’re kinda making me feel the way I probably made girls feel.” He laughs nervously.

You chuckle as well. Once you’re behind the threshold of your bedroom door, you close it, noticing his low intake of breath at the action. “What’s that mean?”

“Just…” Steve’s hands find yours and he plays with them to anchor himself. He shakes his head shyly, his foot twisting, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“Small?”, you venture, and his little nod and bite of the lip confirm it. That makes you smile. “That’s fine.” You rub his hands with your thumbs. Then, you pull him closer to the bed. “I’m here to make you feel nice and safe.”

Steve looks up at you with a small shaky smile. He closes the distance, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. “Thanks.”

He blushes when you chuckle at him. “Don’t thank me over that. It’s just my duty.” And he’s left breathless when you slide your hands under his polo shirt, high enough to start lifting it up to his middle. “Now… how about I take off your clothes so I can make you feel real good? Hm?”

At his shy nod, you slide his shirt up and off him, immediately going for his lips after it, gliding your rough hands over his torso, playing with the hair on his chest. Steve moans inside the kiss when he feels you thumbing at his nipples. When you withdraw, your mouth finds its way to the right side of his neck, leaving hot trails with lips and teeth. He moans softly, grabbing at the rim of your shirt and pulling it up with eagerness. You chuckle at him. You allow him to pull it off you, and the moment it’s on the floor, the pounces on you just like you’ve done to him. Steve attacks your mouth with an impatience you haven’t seen before, but that’s fine. That just makes you smile within the kiss, because you’re so glad Steve’s found something he likes that you can both passionately agree on.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, flushed, but raising an eyebrow at your obvious smile. You decide to distract him, feeling for his button and zipper, and you fulfill this mission, since you can see and hear his enthusiastic response to this. Quickly, you undo the front of his pants, and before you pull them down, you take Steve by the shoulders and gently push him down the bed, until he’s sitting down by the end of it. His hands support his weight behind him, and for this brief second, he looks up and up at you, because you standing before him forces him to lift his head to look at you, and he feels so hazy he has to subtly cross his legs at this, mindful of his now fully-hard cock tenting the front of his jeans.

But you don’t let him. Your hands push his knees outwards at the same time you lower yourself to kneel before him, and this vision has him gasping out and leaking just from that.

You wink at him from your position on the floor. Swiftly undoing his shoes and taking them off, your hands reach forward for the rim of his pants, and as he looks at you in a daze, your fingers hook right under the edge of his underwear, and you start pulling his lower garments down at once, giving him a gruff little laugh when his very hard cock is released from its confines with a small rebound.

When it’s off him and he’s bare before you, you lift yourself up using his thighs as leverage and start leaning towards him, in a low prowl, until you’re hovering over him with your hands on the sides of his head.

Steve’s nervous hands jitter down your torso, all the way to the rim of your own pants, and he makes quick work of the button and zipper. He pointedly looks at his hands, so as to not lose his nerve at your searing gaze. When he’s done, he ventures a quick glance at your eyes, but quickly looks down again as he starts slipping your lower garments off you.

You haven’t stopped looking at him throughout this. Your eyes just can’t leave his rosy face and nervous bites of his lips as you shift above him to help him undress you.

Once you’re both nude, it seems to hit him that you’re both going to do this. Steve’s demeanor changes into one of agitation. He finally looks at you, a nervous, quivery smile on his mouth, though you understand that he’s looking for reassurance now, which you’ll easily give to him.

You lower your head to his and kiss his worries away. “Let’s start slowly, yeah?”, you say, almost in a whisper, all but reading his thoughts, since his torso seems to deflate at that.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

There’s a little grin on your face now. You lean back to let Steve rearrange himself on the mattress, until he’s lying in the middle of it with you on top of him.

Your hands rest on top of his knees, sliding all the way down to his groin, but before they get there, Steve lays his own on top of yours. “Wait. Before we start…”

“Yeah?”, you ask, about to be concerned.

“Um… W-Well, you said on the phone… But I’d already— Uh…”

You exhale a laugh at his little stammering. “What, sweetheart?”

“Uhhh…” Steve smiles shakily. “Y-You said…”

“I said…?”

“You s-said… you wanted to have your fun, too, but I’d already— By that point, I’d…” Steve covers his nervous giggle with his right hand and looks elsewhere.

A heavy current of pleasure drops down your belly. “Oh, baby.” Your hands lower to the juncture between his legs and groin, fondling the surrounding place without giving him what he wants, to which he whimpers. “Did you stretch yourself?”

“Ah— I mean… I called you like an hour after that?” His voice is nothing more than a whisper now.

He tries to hide from the weight of your gaze behind his hands but—

Your hands hold onto his wrists. You gently push them against the sides of his head.

Steve’s eyes glaze over.

“How many?”, comes your rumbling voice.

And he has to inhale heavily, in vain, because his response comes as a whisper. “Four.”

You use the grip on his wrists as leverage to push yourself onto him, and he allows you and welcomes you into his open mouth. Your tongue pushes into his mouth, and he has the frenzied realization that you’re virtually fucking his mouth with it.

Steve cries out. His eyes roll back as he feels himself leaking.

He tries to prolong the feel, but you pull back too soon, and he finds himself whining at the loss.

“Got yourself all nice and open for me? That’s so good, baby.” Your heavy, grumbling voice against his lips has him trying to cross his legs uselessly, since you’re in the way.

Steve bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, moving his legs around to caress yours, urging you to do more.

“Why are you sorry?” You laugh while you take your hands off his wrists and lay them to the sides of his head. You think you imagine the disappointment in his eyes when you do this.

“You said you wanted to…”

“That was all talk, sweetness. I absolutely do not mind that we can skip that part and go straight to the main course.”

At that, Steve can only shut his eyes tightly and bite back a moan. He opens them just as quick, embarrassed at his own reaction.

You just give him a tight-lipped smile. “Not sure if this is gonna reassure you or do the opposite, but I’m pretty sure you still need more prep before we do anything else.”

Steve’s right hand rubs at his mouth nervously. “Oh my God…”, he mumbles, even though he has a small nervous smile on his face as his eyes lower to your big erection. “Right.”

“Right,” you echo with a contrite smile. “Did you forget about it?”

“N-No. Not at all.” Steve looks up and elsewhere as he mutters the following: “You have my word.”

“Do I?”, you tease, stretching towards your night table and opening the drawer.

Steve bites his nails as he watches you do this. “Mm-hm.”

When you have the objects you were looking for in your hands, you show them to him, and he centers on the one on your right hand with an hyperfocus you’ve seldom seen on him.

Steve’s eyes rest on the condom packet with apprehension and excitement at the same time.

You lay it and the tube of lubricant on the bed, between his open legs, next to you. Leaning down to rest a quick kiss on his bitten lips, you run the fingers of your right hand through his hair. “Whenever you want to stop, just say so.”

“‘Kay,” he whispers bashfully.

You lean back, staying in a kneeling position between his parted legs, and smirk at him. “Now, I would totally like to know more about this little bit of playing you did before you came here,” you say as you open the lid of the tube.

Steve covers his mouth with his right hand as he giggles. “What’s there to know?”, he asks shyly.

You pour some lube on your right hand and rub your hands together to warm it up. “Just fun stuff. Did you find your prostate?”

Steve looks elsewhere with a shy smile. “No. I mean— Not today.” His right hand lowers to his chest, resting atop his thundering heart.

“Hm? Then how…?”

“Just…” Steve clenches his eyes shut as he giggles nervously. “Just from my fingers.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your right hand lowers to his entrance while your left hand goes to his hard cock. You don’t even need to stroke him; he’s already turned on enough from your previous teasing. “Just from the penetration alone?”

Steve nods meekly. Then, as he feels your fingers spread the lube on his already tender entrance, he lays his left hand on your wrist. “I… Let me touch you, too. Don’t wanna leave you hanging like the last time.”

You chuckle. He’s just so sweet for you. You can feel his hand shaking. Lifting your left hand from his erection, you rub the unlubed knuckles from that hand onto his own. “Let me be selfish, yeah? I wanna make this about you today.”

It’s really telling for you that he doesn’t insist. “Okay… You sure?”

Your middle and ring finger prod at his hole, leading him to gasp in short breaths. “Yes. Just leave it to me, sweetheart.”

He nods resolutely, then.

Now, at the same time that you start pushing in the two fingers in the middle, your hand returns to his hard cock, which hasn’t gone down at all— You think it might actually be harder now. Steve’s jaw drops open when he feels your two fingers start pushing in, almost easily from how much he’s stretched himself before he arrived here. Even that initial stretch feels heavenly to him: your thick fingers fill him out so good, and they feel so different from his. Whereas he’s used to his own smooth, almost delicate ones, yours are hard and rough. Thicker, too. Steve bites his lower lip as you breach him to the second knuckle, choosing to still yourself to let him get used to this small stretch.

His legs twitch to the sides of you, rubbing onto yours in a sensual caress. “Come on…”, he mumbles.

“‘Want more?”, you ask, not waiting for an answer before you push the two fingers to the last knuckle.

Steve’s back arches in a beautiful curve as he gives you the most breathless and erotic moan. He quickly lets himself fall from it just to hold himself up on his hands behind himself, half-sitting up, all to see the place where you’re joined.

You give him a small chuckle. “Oh, you wanna take a look.”

He looks up at you from under his lashes, because he does. He wants to see, and he wants to feel the same way you made him feel so many days ago. Steve’s breaths are so noisy now; he can’t stop himself when he sees and feels the way you are thrusting in and out of him, two fingers at the sides of the ones inside him just like he’s fantasized about. His feet are restless, stirring next to you on the bed, increasingly rustling the bedsheets the faster you go.

Your fingers go softly now, barely coming out of him, just to rub circles along the walls inside him in a sensual massage that has him gasping out. Your other hand is barely a caress on his cock, knowing he now doesn’t need much more than your fingers.

The tips of your fingers suddenly press up against that spot. Steve’s body curls in itself.

“Fuck…”, he finds himself choking out.

His eyes are drawn to the place that connects you two, but he finds that he can’t keep looking for much longer, because you’re pulling him into a short kiss that leaves him even more breathless. When you separate, he looks at you impatiently, and his voice is nothing more than a whisper.

“Come on. Come on.”

You chuckle through your nose. “Eager.” But you pull your fingers out and press your index one against them, beginning to push in.

There’s a brief resistance, but as Steve breathes out heavily and wills himself to relax, you manage to thrust inside, this time with more pauses in-between.

Steve’s mouth opens to draw in as much breath as he can. Putting one hand on his pounding heart, he looks at you with something that can only be described as adoration.

You give him a little smile. Taking your left hand off his member, you lay it atop his own, on his chest, gently pushing him back on the bed.

“Relax.” Your low, rumbling voice is soothing for his nerves, so he obeys. He lies on the bed, growing more restless with each second that passes.

In a weak voice, he requests: “The last one— Add the last one.”

“You sure?”, you ask, knowing that he should get used to the current stretch, but you still thrust out until you’re at his rim, adding the fourth and final finger next to the other three.

Steve nods so eagerly you have to laugh.

With a lot of patience, taking his cock in hand to soothe him further, you begin to thrust four thick fingers inside him, meeting resistance right away.

Your left hand strokes him slowly, focusing on the head to bring out the greatest amount of pleasure possible. “You have to unclench for this, baby,” you mumble out.

Right after, your right thumb presses against his perineum, drawing a startled moan out of him. You feel him clamping down on you even further for a second, and then you do it again.

Steve hides his eyes under the back of his hand, already winded from this. He can feel himself surrendering to your touches, opening up to let the tips of your fingers thrust in, just far enough to breach him. “Fuck…” His moan is prolonged as he uncovers himself, looking at the general direction of your hands.

“That’s it…”, you encourage him.

Softly, you inch in, until you have four fingers seated deep inside him.

Steve heaves in a loud breath.

“There we go. So good for me, Stevie.” His moan at this is choked off when he feels your rough fingertips moving around in him. “Feels good?”

He moans again, but cuts himself off with a short cackle. “What do you think?”

That only makes you chuckle as well. “Yeah, I bet it feels real good.” You start pulling out, loving the way his legs just can’t stay still. “Just look at how much you’re leaking, baby.” Your left hand focuses on the tip of his cock at the same time you thrust back in, drawing a small shrill sound from him.

Steve tries to look at the place you’re showing him. He does. He just can’t with the way you’re suddenly pushing up, pressing against that bundle of nerves.

He shouts.

His body trembles, his hands hold onto your wrist, his legs kick against your hips, and his own hips grind onto your hand, desperate for more of that contact.

You gladly give it to him. The more you rub circles and press harshly against his prostate, the more Steve’s resolve thins out. Sparks fly behind his eyelids as he tries to process the amount of pleasure you’re giving him, feeling himself slowly drenching your hand in pre-cum.

He can’t take much longer than this. He grabs your left wrist, stopping the movements of your hand on his cock. “N-Not gonna last if you keep…”

Your left hand leaves his cock. “Yeah. You probably can come just from my fingers, can’t you?”

And you press up inside him, at the same time you press with your thumb from the outside, and he wails.

He brings himself out of it with a giddy laugh as you begin pulling your fingers out. He rests his hand on his eyes. “You did that on purpose.”

Your smile is wolfish as you wipe your hands on the sheets, lean forward, and get closer to him. “Maybe.”

And then he’s uncovering his eyes, looking up at you as you take hold of the pillow under his head. Steve shifts to help you, and when he sees you bring that same pillow at the height of his hips, he starts biting his lip with impatience. He understands what you’re trying to do. With the help of his feet, he pushes his hips up, enough for you to slide the pillow under them, leaving him in a very vulnerable position.

You lean into him once more, and when your groins just slot together, he shivers, overwhelmed all of a sudden. You understand this, and push downward, taking his lips in a soft, soothing kiss he yields to.

Steve withdraws first because he needs to take a deep breath to not lose it. His hands grab at your shoulders, unsure of how to anchor himself.

“Need a break?”, you ask him, concerned.

He just shakes his head with vigor. Biting his lip, he wraps his legs around your hips, pushing you against him. You both moan at the contact.

You laugh. “Alright, then. Let me just…” You lean back, Steve’s hands falling from your shoulders and laying on his own chest now. You grab the packet, open it, and start rolling the ring of the condom on your cock, before Steve’s hands come to rest on yours. “Wanna help me?”, you ask.

Steve nods, unable to get the nervous smile off his face, and, with his hands under yours, he starts sliding the condom on.

Once his hand gets to your base and you’re done groaning about it, you grab the tube of lubricant and pour a generous amount on your member. You stroke yourself a couple of times before you inch closer to Steve.

And Steve looks at you with excitement and the slightest tinge of agitation before he brings his own folded legs closer to his own chest.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold yourself open for me,” you mumble, grabbing his right knee with your left hand and laying a kiss on it.

With your right hand, you take hold of your cock, and slowly, very slowly, start pushing inside.

Steve clamps down around you almost immediately. His throat chokes around a moan, and his legs twitch in your hold. “Sorry.”

You lay wet kisses on the inside of his right leg, your mouth twisted in a small smile. “Why?”

He chews on his nails while he looks elsewhere. “I dunno,” he mumbles, embarrassed.

That makes you smile. Your right hand leaves your cock, which is already fixed in place, ready to thrust in, and it goes around his cock. You stroke him softly for some seconds, loving the small changes in his expression, how gorgeous he looks with every single face you can pull off him. His small noises prompt you to keep stroking him, subtly pushing forward to start inching into him.

He clenches with each small inch you push inside, and as you manage to push the end of your head inside, he hisses between gritted teeth, and puts his hands on your shoulders. “Just… a second.”

“Of course,” you answer, stilling in place to let him get used to the stretch, which is quite a lot more than four of your fingers.

Steve’s eyes are also clenched shut, but after some seconds he opens them, looking at you from under his lashes, breathing heavily and quickly. He nods at you, resolutely.

You lean down to surround him completely, and his arms easily go around your shoulders, anchoring himself with you. Your mouth seeks his, and he meets you in the middle with enthusiasm, or perhaps anxiety. Steve pushes forward with his lips, trying to get the most of the kiss, and you open his mouth in turn, pushing your tongue onto his.

As you do this, your hips push forward minimally, starting to thrust yourself inside him while you distract him, but it seems to not work that well.

Steve pulls off you. “W-Wait,” he grits out. He looks at you with a grimace that he’s trying to conceal with a quivery smile, but you know him too well for that.

“Of course,” you say once again, because you’ll take as much time as he needs to. “Hurts?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but seems to lose his nerve and shyly looks to the side.

“Tell me the truth, baby.”

“Kinda…”, he mumbles.

You give him a small peck on the lips for reassurance. “That’s okay. Just tell me when you’re ready to go.”

Steve gives you the tiniest nod, too embarrassed by himself. Some seconds pass, before his restless legs rub imperceptibly around your waist, him looking at you and nodding. “Okay.”

You take your cue and start pressing forward once more, but once again, his arms cling tight around your neck and he yelps: “Wait!”

You’re halfway into him, and the way he’s clenching around you is almost sexually tortuous, but you obviously heed his word again. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Steve’s pinched expression eases up after a second, and this time, he gives you a genuine smile, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck to cover it in kisses. “You treat me so nicely,” he mumbles out, like it makes him bashful to say it.

You feel your chest soar at this. There’s a small, breathless chuckle coming straight from your chest right now. “Do I?”, you ask, even though it’s pointless, because you’re only showing him basic decency.

But your Steve still looks you in the eye and nods.

Another small chuckle, and now you’re leaning back. “Okay.”

Steve seems almost confused as your hands grab at the back of his knees, but then realizes what you’re going to do as you manipulate his legs until they’re crossed, and then place them in a right angle to his body, his ankles coming to rest above the left side of your neck. “What are we doing now?”, he asks, almost forgetting he still has half of your cock inside him.

“I’m putting your legs in a specific position that’ll help you relax better,” you explain, noticing his still-puzzled expression. “Your anus. This position helps you relax your anus.”

Steve bursts out laughing, covering his mouth with his hands because it’s just rolling off him now. You laugh with him.

“I thought it was the other way round,” Steve says. “Like, with my legs open?”

“That’s for the pussy,” you answer, and you rest your hands on his crossed knees, laying hot kisses on the expanse of his shins. Steve shivers at this. “You ready?”

Biting his lip, he nods slowly, bracing himself once again.

“Alright, sweetheart. Remember to push out, too.”

Steve laughs, almost in a sob, because you’re starting to inch forward, and this position does help him a lot, and as he does as he’s told, he finds that what felt like something impossible is now too easily possible.

Your hips meet his ass almost too quickly, sending him scrambling for a grip on the bedsheets. He breathes in and out like he’s hyperventilating. His left hand is now on his chest, trying to calm his heart down. You lower your right hand to that hand and lay it on top of it, wanting to reassure him.

His expressions. God. His expressions are something out of this world. His eyes are closed, eyebrows pinched and mouth open to let out quiet moan after moan.

As soon as Steve opens his eyes, they stray towards the place where you’re joined.

“Oh my God,” he says, almost in a whisper.

“Too much?”, you ask.

Steve shakes his head. “Just… a lot.” He bites his lip to hold back his little noises whenever he feels your cock so much as twitch inside him. His free hand covers his mouth. “So big…”, he says, almost to himself.

“Yeah?” You teasingly move your hips a minimum fraction, and that is enough to have Steve gasping out and shifting his legs onto your shoulder.

When he sees your amused expression, he almost pouts, though it’s obvious that he’s trying to look teasing, too. “You’re mean. I thought you were gonna be gentle with me…”

His words make something hot and heavy settle deep in your belly. Your grip on his legs gets tighter, and he makes the quietest little squeak at it. “Yeah. I did say that.” Your right hand rubs up and down his left thigh, going down to his cheek and fondling it to open him up more. Steve makes a breathless moan at this. “I’m gonna be so nice to you, baby. In fact, I’m gonna go real nice and slow, just so you can see how gentle I’m being with you.”

He moans openly now. Steve finds that while he likes that idea, he also craves something different in the near future.

For now, he just nods.

So you start. Using your grip on his gorgeous long legs, caressing his left one down to his ass and back up, you start pulling out of him, hearing his long intake of breath. You do this until you’re halfway into him, and then push forward until you meet his hips again. Steve breathes heavily and quickly, his jaw slack as he tries not to succumb and close his eyes to the sensations. Then, you do this again a couple of times, thrusting out and in minimally, just so that he can get used to the stretch. His legs twitch every time your hips meet his rear. His left hand has returned to his chest, and you find this so endearing; you know how nervous but excited Steve is by this, so much so that he tries to halt his pounding heart however he can.

Now your hips are pulling back further, until only the head of your cock is inside him. You push all the way into him with the same slow pace. Steve’s expressions are something wonderful. You know he can’t help himself when he clenches his eyes shut at the pleasure, but still tries to open them as soon as he can every single time.

On the next thrust, you pull back, and this time, the head of your cock starts sliding out of him.

Steve hisses and clamps down when he feels the widest part of it breaching him on its way out.

You shush him and kiss his shins. “Relax,” comes your soothing mumble.

His breaths turn quicker, and his eyes close for a brief second before he opens them again, looking at you with dazed eyes and nodding.

You feel him gradually unclench as you’re pulling out completely, the tip barely inside him. Then, you push forward once again.

Steve has less trouble to take you in this time, if the way you’re easily fitting inside with a smooth thrust is indicative enough.

And once again, he gives you a breathless moan when you’re all the way in.

“Alright there?”, you have to ask, because you know of his tendency to hide his own discomfort at times. Luckily, he gives you a genuine smile and —this makes you laugh— a thumbs-up. “Alright, you dork.”

“Yeah,” he adds on. His flushed face now takes on a darker hue. “Actually… can you go a bit faster now?” He mumbles the last part, like it embarrasses him to say so.

You laugh softly at him. “Obviously.”

Now, you’re pulling out of him all the way, and pushing back in with a bit more force than before. This leaves Steve breathless, jittery, and blissed out all the same. So you do it again and again. With each thrust, your pace increases, and the friction makes his mostly-quiet moans rise in volume. What were previously soft noises of skin slapping begin turning loud too.

You’re purposefully avoiding his prostate. You think it might be a good idea to build up to it first, so as to get him used to the stretch before you do anything, but you know it won’t be a long time now.

Steve slowly parting his legs to bring them to the sides of you tells you enough.

“Tired of that position?”

He shakes his head. “Just…” He rises his arms to encircle your shoulders, face burning at this point while you’re still thrusting in and out of him. “…wanna hold you.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” You give him what he wants.

Steve’s legs wrap around your waist as you push in and out of him. The newfound friction of your belly on his cock has his legs growing restless, his moans pouring from his lips freely now. His eyes can’t stay open for too long.

He makes the effort just to look at you, long enough to let you know he wants you to kiss him. So you do. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss as you start going faster, small moans slipping from the spaces in-between.

Steve withdraws, already feeling breathless.

After some long moments like this, just thrusting at a moderate pace and looking at each other with — something strong, something that could shakily be called love, his face begins to show some signs of discomfort, too subtle to seem that way to any other person, but you know your boy well enough.

“Hurts?”

“Just my hips,” he talks in between moans.

You gradually slow down until your movements are minimal, something that seems to turn Steve antsy. You ignore this for a second, though there’s a smile on your face at his impatience. “Must be the position.”

You stop completely. Steve tries to not make such a loud whine at this, but it’s obvious that it doesn’t work. He blushes right after.

As you pull out completely, he makes the quickest yelp at the emptiness.

“How about this?”, you ask. Your hands softly grab at his sides, starting to manipulate his body in a way that lets him know you want him to turn around.

Steve blushes even further and starts giggling when he understands. He rolls over until his chest is to the bed.

“Just like that,” you grumble. “On your hands and knees, yeah?”

It’s a good thing that you can’t see his face, because Steve just about melts from pleasure at your words, and it embarrasses him so bad that he makes the smallest whine. He does as he’s told, though. This position leaves him feeling vulnerable and open, until you lie across his back and envelop him, making him feel safe now.

“Good boy,” comes your low mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops to let the quietest moan out.

Your right hand grabs your cock, and at the first contact of your tip against him, he clamps down once again. Steve bites his lip as he tries to relax, breathing heavily.

Slowly, you begin to breach him once more, feeling the small contractions around your cock. “Close your legs, baby.” He obeys, knees rustling the bedsheets, and suddenly you’re thrusting all the way into him again.

Steve lets out a loud moan, loud enough to be considered a shout. This position is… something else. It leaves him reeling from how much deeper it somehow feels, almost hurting from it. Most of all, Steve can feel himself surrendering to you, feeling so safe and loved.

His arms quiver, struggling to hold his weight already. At the same time that he notices this, you start pulling out only to push in with a strong thrust that makes him buckle and fall down to his elbows. Steve’s moan at this is something so erotic it has you throbbing inside him.

“Good to keep going?”, you ask him, and he nods enthusiastically from under you.

Now you resume that moderate pace you had before, only this time, somehow, it feels more intense. You hips slap against the back of his legs every time they meet, filling the room with the erotic sounds of skin against skin and his loud, airy moans. Steve can’t keep his eyes open anymore. He just yields to the intensity of your thrusts, feeling full to the brim with your big cock going in and out of him. His moans increase in volume the more you press down against him, because he understands what you’re trying to do.

Your hands rest on the high of his back, pressing down with gentleness. “Lie down.” You find just the tiniest bit of resistance, probably because Steve almost can’t stand the idea of getting even more pleasure than this. “Trust me. It’ll feel so good.”

So Steve shakily obeys. His arms go lax to his sides as he lays his chest on the mattress, his spine almost straining from the curve you’ve enforced onto him.

Your cock presses on his prostate.

Steve screams.

“Ah— Fuck!” His legs fold on themselves, and his feet kick against the bed as you continue stimulating him. “Fuck— Oh my God. Th-That’s…”

“Feels good, right?” You lay off his prostate for the moment, knowing it probably wouldn’t take much to overwhelm him if you kept on.

“Y-Yeah…” Now you can feel his quivering legs working to— to meet your thrust. “Again. Please.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your hips bear down with force on his own, and you know you’re hitting his prostate dead-on because his wails are so sudden and loud they almost scare you.

“Yes!” His jaw is left open in an endless moan, eyes clenched shut at the intensity.

The more you keep pressing down, the more you feel his body lowering, wondering why this could be, until you lean up a fraction and notice his legs sliding open on the bed. Your cock throbs at the sight. To know that he’s so turned on that he can’t keep up with you…

“Fuck— S-Sorry— Can’t h-hold myself up.” Steve confirms this same thought as he keeps moaning.

You laugh in his ear— It’s something almost mean that has Steve’s eyes wide open in a second. “Don’t worry about it,” you say as you keep thrusting, following him to the mattress.

Suddenly, your right leg is pushing his own closer to his center. Your left one does the same with the other one. As soon as you have him in the position you want, your legs press against the sides of his, holding them together tightly, not allowing him to open them to lie in a puddle on the mattress.

Steve screams at this.

“Holy— fuck!” He screams, he moans, he wails, because this specific position has your cock rubbing against his prostate on every single thrust, and it has you going deeper still, and he starts to feel himself lose it when it almost hurts when you reach the end of his walls on every thrust, feeling so small and almost bursting at the seams with it.

You know that it won’t take longer for him, so you keep bearing down on him, focusing on that bundle of nerves, feeling it increase in size the slightest bit. Your hips go faster.

Steve begins to feel the same way he did the other day. There is this very specific intense feel that comes from his prostate and has him feeling desperate, because it’s so different from anything he’s ever felt.

He knows he’s going to come just from this, and this time, though terrified, he’s ready for it.

“C-Close— Ah— I’m close.” He says this, and you kiss the back of his nape, your left hand going under his body to press against his pounding heart. Steve’s left hand presses against yours, intertwining your fingers. “J-Just from this!”

“Yeah? You want it?”

He nods so quickly it almost makes you laugh. “It’s weird. F-Feels so weird. I really— fuck!— Really feel l-like…!”

“Okay, baby. Let it happen. I’m right here. It’s alright.”

Steve nods, his face in such agonic pleasure he’s almost glad you can’t see it, because you’d probably feel concerned over him. “Okay. O-Okay—!,” he concedes, his heart beating faster at the mounting feeling.

The more you thrust against him, the more he can feel himself losing it, until the feeling turns so intense he almost can’t breathe.

“C-Coming— I’m coming! I’m coming! Oh my God!” Steve’s voice turns desperate.

And he screams.

His body seizes. A sensation he’s never felt before ravages his entire body. His eyes sting with a hint of tears at it. He feels a forceful tremble throughout his limbs, and he’s left unable to control them as he feels himself coming and coming and coming, so intensely it almost hurts, and in such a different way he’s almost ashamed, because he really thought…

But there’s no room for thoughts in his mind because he’s still coming, and he’s still moaning without noticing, shutting his eyes at the acuteness of the feeling.

“Oh, that’s it, baby. You’re squeezing me so hard— fuck!”

As Steve begins coming down from the longest and most intense orgasm of his life, he moans weakly when he feels your hips shuttering behind him, yelping at the warmth of your cum filling the condom.

After some long seconds of you groaning in his ear, which makes his hurting cock valiantly attempt to twitch, you pull out of him, softly, though it still makes him yelp, almost in a whisper, until you’re off.

Without the support of your legs against his, he drops to the bed in a helpless pile.

Steve’s chest rises and lowers quickly, still trying to draw in as much breath as possible and to calm his still-pounding heart. You lie to the side of him, your right hand caressing the expanse of his back to let him know you’re still there.

You know he’s not even processing this, too gone to even notice you’re not holding him up anymore.

But after some long minutes, Steve calms down enough and regains enough lucidity to shift on the mattress, feeling your hand on his back and sighing at the sensation.

With what you think is the biggest display of effort in history, his arms strain enough for his head to rise and turn to the side you’re on.

Steve looks at you without saying anything. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say, or because he can’t, so you do, first.

Sliding down the bed to be at the same height as his head, you circle your arm around his back, and say: “Hey. That was a full-body one, wasn’t it?” You kiss his left shoulder.

He still won’t answer. You start getting concerned, before he smiles, bigger and bigger, until he’s giggling against the bedsheets. He mushes his face into the mattress as he does this.

You laugh with him, still not understanding if he’s too out of it and high on endorphins.

After some seconds, Steve stills, and his concealed face turns just the slightest fraction, just enough for his eye to peek, showing you that he’s sporting the darkest blush ever.

“Um…”, he starts. “Hi?”

And that makes you laugh even harder. “Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”

Steve turns his head further towards you, biting his lip. “Good.”

“Good,” you repeat. “How did all of that feel?”

His expression is so cute to see now. It’s like he’s getting shy all over again after everything you’ve just done. His lips twitch, not knowing whether to smile or to bite his own lower lip. “Good,” he mumbles again.

You hum, almost teasingly. “Just ‘good’?”

Steve laughs, embarrassed, shoving your face with a weak hand while you laugh. “What do you think? Jesus. I can’t even move.”

You give him a wolfish smile, but contradict it when you wrap your arms around his body. Steve lets himself be surrounded by you, feeling small and safe in a way he’s never had before.

#steve harrington x male reader #bottom steve harrington #top male reader #dom male reader #stranger things x male reader #fic

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stylesparker · 2 years

Text

Lovergirl

PAIRING: Robin Buckley x Bi!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

A/N: I am deceased after writing this, I love Robin with my whole heart. Speaking as a bisexual, she is my dream. Comment and reblog if you love as always <33

“What’s with you constantly having music blasting in your ears, huh?” Steve strides up beside you, moving the headphones away so you can hear him.

You glare at him, smacking his hand away as he chuckles, “Listening to my music is better than listening to your stupid mouth, Harrington. Besides, isn’t it smart considering the situation we’ve found ourselves in.” You nod towards Max and Lucas in front of you, the girl trying to ignore the boy beside her just as you are.

“I’m just wondering! What are you listening to then.” He asks nonchalantly. You screw your eyebrows up in confusion, debating on whether you want to humor the guy or not.

“What’s with the sudden interest? You finally want to get the scoop on my amazing music taste-”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Y/N, I’m just bored and making conversation.” You laugh, hitting him in the arm. Despite Steve being your best friend, you have a feeling he’s gonna make fun of you for this.

You look away from him, your eyes examining the dirt intently in front of you, “Lovergirl, Teena Marie.”

It takes a moment, but as soon as it clicks, his eyes widen in excitement, his arms darting out to grab you, but you quickly move away giving him a pointed look.

“NO WAY-”

“Don’t you dare, Steven.”

“Doesn’t Robin call you that?” He whispers in your ear so none of your other friends hear, especially one particular girl behind you. “Ever since she started calling you that, I swear you’ve had this song on repeat-”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the hell up.”

He nods, his lips forming into a tight line. “Yep, yeah, okay.”

You look back towards Robin and Nancy, trying to look the least suspicious as possible, as you do so. They make no indication they’ve heard your secret conversation in the midst of their own, so you take a breath and keep moving forward. You don’t know why it frightens you so much if she found out of your crush on her, or even the fact you like girls, but for some reason it does. Even though you’re like ninety-nine percent sure she’s into chicks too, you don’t know how she’d feel knowing you’re still into guys too. Most of the time, people expect people to go one way or the other, not both, and if she wasn’t okay with that it would break your heart. Robin is one of the nicest people you’ve ever met and you know she probably wouldn’t, but the fear is still in the back of your mind, haunting you ever since you came to terms with your feelings. The only person who is aware is Steve, and god, is it frustrating that he definitely knows something about her too, which is probably the fact she’s a lesbian.

It’s almost as if the smirking boy beside you can hear you inner turmoil as he nudges his arm against yours, giving you one of your own pointed looks. You huff, getting ready to push him onto the ground and beat the crap out of him, before Dustin, who’s in the front with Eddie, calls for a snack break, smiling and pointing towards the gas station across the street. Robin and Nancy catch up with the rest of the group, standing next to you on your other side.

Robin grins, “Well I don’t got any money, so who’s paying?”

***

You walk up and down the aisles with your music blaring in your ears, tuning out the rest of the world for the time being while the kids run around picking up a whole bunch of snacks that’ll probably only last them until later tonight. You skip a track that starts playing, and close your eyes as you listen to the female voice vibrate through your brain. Robin is near the door eating her chips that Nancy bought for her. Nancy told the boys that she would only pay for you, Max, and Robin if you guys wanted anything since she didn’t have that much cash, earning her groans in response.

“C’mon, Nance, I just want a soda-”

“Cut it out, Steve, I’m not buying it.” She squints at him with her arms crossed, pushing a pouting Steve in the direction of the kids who were fishing through backpacks and pockets for any loose change. You laugh to yourself quietly, walking towards them near the counter. You stand there watching them as they pay for their various food items when you feel a light tap on your shoulder, making you turn and look up at Robin.

“Wanna’ chip, lovergirl?” She asks coyly, offering her hand forward for you to take a chip from her. You place your headphones around your neck, taking it and thanking her softly. Your heart beats hard against your chest as she continues to feed you small pieces of chips, your mouth curving up in a smile when you realize this is her way of making sure you eat today. Even if it’s small.

“Your total is $20.56.” The cashier says without a hint of emotion in his voice. His eyes look sunken and he looks like he’s the most bored person on the planet.

Dustin hands him two fives, seven ones, and a bunch of change. The cashier takes it, but looks at him like he’s about to punch him across the face. He sighs tiredly and starts counting the money.

“I have $19.74 here, not enough.��

Dustin smacks his lips together, “Shit.” He digs through his pants again, trying to find any more money and he comes up empty. He looks back at Lucas and Max with a hopeful look on his face and they shrug. “God damn it, well looks like you’re not getting your gum then Lucas-”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes, digging in your pocket to pull out a couple singles, “here.” Dustin takes it from you, looking at you like you just handed him a million dollars. He gives it to the cashier and immediately grabs their items. Steve pats your shoulder, offering you a drink of his soda, but you decline, shaking your head as you guys make your way out. Robin holds the door open until you walk out, letting the door slam closed. The cool breeze that hits your skin makes you shutter and sends goosebumps across your arms. She glances at you, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” you shrug, “I”m fine though.”

“I’d give you my sweatshirt, but I don’t have one with me right now. I would though if I had one.” She rambles, giving you a smile.

You giggle, “Thanks, Robin.” She hooks an arm through yours, pulling you into her side as you fall into step aside one another.

“So, which of the kiddos do you think is gonna cave first and ask if we can go home to take a nap?” She inquires.

You tap your chin, “Hmm, it won’t be Max, because the girl literally runs on like two hours of sleep a day. So that just leaves Dustin and Lucas, and I think Lucas will do whatever Max does, so I think it’ll be Dusty bun.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Dustin yelled back at the two of you.

“No you didn’t!” You yelled back, feeling Robin laughing at your side.

No doubt, not even an hour later is he asking if they can call it a night, not because he’s tired of course, but they need to get some more strength before they face Vecna.

“Of course, Dusty Bun, why don’t we stop at Nance’s so you can get your beauty sleep, yeah?” Eddie taunts him, making Dustin smack him in the shoulder. You were already pretty close to Nancy’s anyway, so the group makes it’s way there. It got quiet among the group, but Robin still stayed close by you, switching it up and holding your hand. You felt your cheeks heat up, hoping she didn’t notice a change in your anxious breathing pattern. As soon as Nancy unlocked the door to her house, everyone filed inside, taking off their shoes and hanging jackets if they had them. Her mom called out for her from the kitchen so she detoured to talk to her, letting the rest of you know you could just go downstairs and get comfortable. Lucas opens the door to the basement, everyone following him, until Eddie almost trips down the stairs. Steve’s hand juts out, grabbing the back of his jacket before he can face plant into Max’s back. His face blushes when he thanks him, and everyone chuckles before they claim their seats. Robin spots the couch and practically yanks you in that direction, pushing you gently so you sit and claiming her spot right next to you.

“This is ours.” She says proudly.

“Hey, who says you get the couch!” Dustin complains.

“We did.” You retort triumphantly. You and Robin high five each other, making Dustin glare at the both of you.

He turns around, making sure the two of you are out of earshot before he groans at Steve, “Why are they like this?”

“They’re just perfect for each other.” Steve mumbles under his breath as he flops down on the chair in front of you.

It wasn’t long before the night had caught up with you and you had, without knowing, fell asleep right on Robin’s shoulder. Robin gazes over at you, her eyes widening in surprise, but also excitement. She almost feels giddy at the fact she’s the one you chose to sleep on. Well, maybe not chose, but you still sat here with her. She moves ever so carefully so she doesn’t wake you up, shifting her arm out from under her so she can wrap it around you and tug you into her side. You shift, make a small noise, and settle back down. But not before you bury your head into her shoulder and get comfortable. She looks at the ceiling to take a deep breath so she doesn’t start physically freaking out. Her hand rubs gently up and down your arm, comforting you in your sleep. The rest are out, everyone having had the same long day as the two of you had. It took her only a couple minutes to pass out right along side you.

When you woke up a couple hours later, it was still very much dark outside. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness around you. Once you realize you’re practically in Robin’s lap, you have to stifle a shriek. What the hell.

Robin, the ever so light sleeper, shifts at the movement in her lap and peeks an eye open to look at you. You stop moving out of her grip once you realize you’ve woken her up.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” you whisper fearfully.

“Hey, hey, you’re good. You’re okay.” She tries her best to reassure you. “You fell asleep on my shoulder so I thought this would be more comfortable for you. You don’t have to stay here, not if you don’t want to. I-I’ll move over there-”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that.” you shake your head. You set your hand against her shoulder, not letting her move. You’re both still for a moment, realizing the placement your in. Your heartbeats are erratic and you’re pretty sure her hands are probably as sweaty as yours. Her eyes quickly glance down at your lips before quickly moving back up again, but you saw it. She knows you saw it.

“Y/N-”

“Robin-”

You say at the same time, making you smile at each other shyly.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

She breathes deeply, “If this question I’m about to ask makes you super uncomfortable or like, makes you think I’m disgusting you can just ignore it and forget what I said. But, if you so happen to um... not find me disgusting then I would very much like to continue what I ask-”

“Robin?” You interrupt.

“Yeah?”

“Ask the damn question.” You laugh.

“Right, yeah,” she chuckles nervously, “Uh, can I kiss you?” It catches you off guard, sure, but you don’t waste a second. Your hands rest gently on the sides of her face as her arms snake around your waist to pull you against her. Her lips taste like the strawberry chapstick you watched her put on earlier. Her face is so soft as you hold her, but you feel like she’s the one holding you together. If you weren’t in a room full of kids at the moment, you would be a puddle in her hands. They stay gripped on your hips, but start to slowly rub up and down your thighs. You pull away from her, heaving a delighted sigh.

Resting your forehead against her own, you ask her, “Have you always felt this way about me?”

She nods, “Ever since I met you.” She smirks, like she just thought of something. Her nose scratches against yours gently, “You’ve always been my lovergirl.”

Your face heats up furiously, making you groan and shove your head into the crook of neck. She giggles, trying to pull you out to see your face.

“Robin...”

“Yeah, baby?” Your hand comes to the side of her neck, and you look at her lovingly. You shake your head, and all you can think of doing is kissing her again.

Four hours later, the two of you are fast asleep, you partly on her lap. Steve and Eddie start stirring from their sleep, looking around, and both of them manage to see the sight in front of them at the same time. Eddie rubs his eyes as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. He looks to Steve and Steve looks at him.

“You got any clue, man?”

Steve shrugs, leaning back and closing his eyes, “Not a clue.”

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4

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miraculousmultifan · 6 months

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Steddie Bigbang - The Baby Project

hi everyone!! im so happy to post my submission for the @steddiebang!! i’ve worked really hard on this one, and i’m so proud of how it turned out <3

(also, this fic has art by @danadaria. its linked in the authors notes on ao3, but i’ll also be reblogging it here on tumblr!)

Title: The Baby Project

Author: miraculousmultifan

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Stranger Things

Relationship(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & the Party, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Minor or Background Relationship(s)

Character(s): Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, the Party, Corroded Coffin, Robin Buckley, Wayne Munson

Tags: Fluff and Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, kind of?, Accidental Baby Acquisition, also kind of?, School Project Partners, Aware of Own Bisexuality Steve Harrington, Post-Season 2, Pre-Season 3, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Slight Angst, Slight Miscommunication

Summary:

Munson, of course, stared back at him blankly, but instead of backtracking or something, Steve batted his eyelashes for good measure, really hamming it up.

Munson blinked at him once. Then twice. Then he raised an eyebrow and said, deadpan, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

***

In the last month and a half of Steve's senior year, he gets paired up with Eddie Munson for the final project in Mrs. O'Donnell's Home Economics class. The assignment? To take care of a fake baby for four weeks. For some reason, Steve finds himself surprisingly excited. Eddie, not so much.

Word Count: 33,968

#steddiebang23 #mira writes #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 7 months

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you look at me and I just melt

by unkreativstermensch

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, And He Knows It, he's very aware of it actually, Eddie's not, of his own sexuality yes, but not of Steve's, a lot of wham! references, or well quotes actually, george michael is a lyrical genius and i stand by that, and Steve does too, saying stop flirting with me is peak flirting i dont make the rules, Argue with the wall, really excessive use of italics, i'm not kidding i think i actually overdid it this time, i just can't stop, Eddie Munson's Black Handkerchief, First Kiss, Getting to Know Each Other, the homoeroticism of touching a bro's forearm, implied past stommy, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied Sexual Content, it's a fade to black sort of moment, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, What's new, the intimacy of laundromats, that one friends episode would agree, no beta we die like eddie's chill, Post-Stranger Things 3 Words: 6,524 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

“What in the world are you doing here?” he then asks, when he got his voice back and Steve, now kneeling on the ground sorting through the dirty laundry he brought, just shoots him a look. “Uhh…laundry?” He looks a little lost, as if he doesn’t really understand the question. “Um, yes, I can see that,” Eddie replies, shutting his book, “but why is Steve Harrington doing laundry…here? At a laundromat?” Steve frowns and turns completely around, giving Eddie his full attention now. “Well, Eddie Munson” he says, putting emphasis on it, as if to prove Eddie’s not the only one who knows full names around here. “There’s a very simple answer to that. I don’t have a washing machine…but I like to wear clean clothes. You know?” or: It’s laundry day. Eddie runs into Steve Harrington. Something’s not adding up.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #oneshot #5-10k

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morningberriesao3 · 9 months

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MWMD - Touch My Skin

Steve Harrington X Virgin!Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve has a sore back. If only there was someone who could work out all those knots...

Word Count: 3.3K

Chapter: 2 of 6 CHAPTER LIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… Virgin Eddie Munson, Dry Humping, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Minor Crossdressing (ahem, EDDIE WEARS A G-STRING), Oh no they’re both tops?! what will they do!!?!, Top Steve Harrington, Power Bottom Eddie Munson, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Nipple Clamps, Under-Negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, Creampie. Underage Drinking and Recreational Drug Use.

Tags: Eddie Munson lives, 5 + 1 Things, slow burn, POV Eddie Munson, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Caretaking, Massages, Sharing a Bed, House Party, Play Flighting, Bros Being Bros (JK it’s very homoerotic), Halloween, Boys in Makeup, Independence Day, New Years Eve, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending

Many Ways, Many Days, to Say ‘I Love You’

May 14th, 1986

Steve helped Eddie shower a total of thirteen times. But who’s counting?

But now, Eddie can move a little bit better. He has the strength to stand for longer periods of time. His maimed chest doesn’t pull as tight when he stretches in certain directions. The ache under his scars has dulled to a tolerable throb.

He can reach his dick. And he’s tugged one out everyday since discovering that for the first time all over again. He wasn’t lying that he felt like he’d been edged – especially with Harrington’s hands all over him throughout the weeks.

It was bittersweet when they both agreed that Eddie could manage to bathe alone.

Steve still helps him wrap his wounds. Most have closed past the point of reopening, but the deeper ones – like the one over his chest with his missing nipple, or right under that one, by his ribs – are still flaking scabs and oozing white and red. Steve helps rub ointment on them, even though they’re both aware that Eddie could now do it by himself.

But over the weeks they’ve fallen into a routine.

Steve helps Eddie, and Eddie tries to reciprocate by cooking meals and cleaning Steve’s clothes. Their relationship is confusingly physical but Eddie chalks it up as the aftermath of a near-death experience.

Small touches on their shoulders. Thighs pressed against thighs on the living room couch. And yes, dressing wounds that Eddie might be able to manage himself, but neither of them allow that to happen.

They don’t really talk about the times in the shower. It’s like a secret that they’re keeping from even themselves.

They especially don’t talk about how Steve would strip his own shirt off to keep it from getting wet and soapy. Or how each time he helped clean Eddie, he got more confident with his hands. Or how, without fail, Eddie’s cock would start straining right in front of Harrington like a fucking flag, no matter how many times he jerked himself off that morning.

Look, you turn me on, it said.

Eddie has an inkling that Steve knows he’s gay by now. But that’s just one more thing they don’t talk about. Because Steve is straight as an arrow and acknowledging something like Eddie’s dumb crush would smash the frailty of whatever the fuck their friendship has turned into.

Steve sleeps on Eddie’s couch. Wayne had accepted their new roommate without protest, pulling three of his mugs out after his evening shifts – right when Steve and Eddie usually wake up – instead of two.

“The Harrington boy, huh?” Wayne asks one too many times.

“We’re just friends,” Eddie answers each and every one of them.

Today, Steve gets home from his shift at Family Video early. Wayne is still home, eating something before heading off to his own shift. Eddie made spaghetti Bolognese – but really it’s just pasta with canned tomato sauce and a very small amount of fried hamburger mixed inside.

“Steve,” Eddie greets, raising his eyebrows at the sight of a scowling jock, “you’re home early. Grab a plate, I made enough for, like, three days. Very much on purpose and not because pasta portions are confusing.”

Eddie hopes he isn’t the only one who never measures spaghetti right.

Steve reaches into one of the cupboards for a plate, which he manages fine, but groans out a sound of pain when he lowers it to the countertops.

“You alright, man?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, fine.” Steve reaches around to squeeze at the flesh of his lower back. Eddie tries not to choke on his bite of spaghetti as he watches that hand grope at a place he wishes he could touch himself. “Keith sent me home early ‘cause my back is out. I was reshelving the returns unacceptably slow, apparently.”

“Shit, man.” Eddie stands from his spot at the small table. “Let me get you a Tylenol.”

“No, Eddie, sit down. I’m here to take care of you, not the other way around.”

“Don’t bark orders at me like a child, Harrington. I’m capable of getting you a Tylenol from the bathroom.”

“I can get it myself, Munson.”

“No! Sit down and let me –”

“You sit down!”

“Let me get you a goddamn Tylenol –”

“Well,” Wayne grumbles, standing from the table to loudly clatter his plate into the sink, effectively cutting off the two boys from their bickering, “that’s my cue to leave. Lemme know who ends up gettin’ the Tylenol when I get back home.”

Eddie feels his face get hot. His uncle knows he has this stupid crush, as much as he tries to deny it.

“Bye, Uncle Wayne,” he mumbles, not taking his eyes from Harrington while he says it.

He crosses his arms. It’s a stare down, neither boy moving from their positions. Neither boy peeling their eyes off the other. The door behind them closes.

Then it’s a mad dash to the bathroom.

With Steve’s former jock status, he’s faster than Eddie, and Eddie is still a little bit sore so that’s another point against him. But the thing about Eddie – he’s less afraid than Steve to play dirty.

He grabs the other’s shoulders with a bruising grip and pulls him backwards. Steve tumbles behind Eddie with a disgruntled noise bursting from somewhere within him. He nearly lands on his ass, but manages to steady himself as Eddie takes the remaining few leaps to the bathroom door, yelling, “Fuck you, Harrington!” as loud as he can behind him.

Eddie can hear Steve stumbling angrily behind him, a string of curses coursing from between his lips as he does. He bursts in through the half-closed bathroom door, but Eddie already has the bottle of Tylenol in his hands, opened, with a single pill delicately placed in his palm and presented to Steve as if on a platter.

“Your painkiller, my liege,” says Eddie, holding in the triumphant laugh that he oh so desperately wants to release.

“You’re so stubborn.” Steve rolls his eyes but cracks a grin anyway. If Eddie lost the race, he probably would have pouted. That another nice thing about Steve – he’s not a sore loser.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, grabbing one of the paper dixie cups from the counter and filling it with water from the tap.

Steve places the pill on his tongue, swallows the water. Eddie tries not to watch as the apple in his throat bobs up and then down, but he fails miserably. He also fails to look away as water dribbles from the corner of Steve’s lips. He can’t help but want to lick him clean, but that’s neither here nor there.

He does something else brave instead.

He says, “you’re a messy boy, hmm?” and lifts his thumb to wipe away the small, wet stream from Steve’s mouth. Eddie never gets tired of Steve’s reactions when he flirts with him in such a way.

It’s innocent, he tells himself. He flirts with everybody. Even girls. It’s a defense mechanism really, just in case he flirts with the wrong person. He can just brush it off as a personality trait. It doesn’t mean anything, he can say.

But maybe one day he’ll get lucky and somebody he likes will flirt back.

Steve chokes on his water, sputtering even more down his chin. He falls into a coughing fit and Eddie finally can’t contain his laughter any longer. While Steve sounds like he’s dying as he coughs and gasps for air, Eddie grabs at his sides that ache with each contraction of his abs.

“You’re – an – asshole,” Steve says when he can catch enough breath to speak. He twists his back the wrong way and groans, reaching his hand to grasp at the strained muscle.

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s laughter dies down. He flails his hands out to help support Steve, grasping one hand on his shoulder and one on his waist. He tries not to think too hard about how his fingers are grazing under the hem of Steve’s t-shirt, pressing into the warm flesh of his hip. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

“I’m fine, Munson,” Steve argues, but gasps a sharp intake of breath when his back pinches once more.

“How old did you say you were?” Eddie jokes as he leads Steve to the couch.

“Har-har. You try sleeping on a couch for a month.”

Eddie’s face twists up.

“Shit – no,” Steve says, “that’s not what I meant. I really don’t mind, dude, it’s mostly comfortable. I just think I slept wrong.”

Eddie feels bad. It’s been a bit of a point of contention between them.

Over the weeks he’s been trying to convince Steve to go back home during the nights so he can sleep somewhere other than the shitty old couch his uncle bought in 1962. But Steve, ever courageous, ever the caregiver, refuses to even consider letting Eddie be on his own. It’s an uphill battle of a topic. He’s even tried to get Steve to stay on his bed while he takes the couch. No dice.

He tries again.

“C’mon, man,” he pleads. “If you won’t go home, just take my bed. I know the mattress is – uh – not in the best shape, but I’ll put clean sheets on and it’ll be better than the couch –”

“I’m not the one healing,” Steve quips, using that tone that means, ‘drop the subject, it’s closed’.

Eddie’s jaw tenses. “You are though,” he mumbles. “You’re hurt.”

Steve stretches himself along the length of the couch, opting for laying on his stomach. He arches his back inwards suggestively (not suggestively, it just looks suggestive to Eddie), moans (again, impure thoughts), and then goes lax.

“It’s just a sore back. It’ll be better tomorrow.”

Eddie lets the subject drop. For now. He’s about to say something witty, make one of his signature jokes, but Steve –

“What I really need is a masseuse.”

Eddie gapes at him for a moment, then says, “I think it’s a little late to book –”

“Or just a massage, in general…?” Steve interrupts, lolling his head to the side to catch Eddie’s eye. He tosses him a sheepish grin.

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, but he paints his face with a confident smirk. At least, he hopes that’s how it looks. “Are you asking me for a massage, Harrington?” He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes like his mind isn’t screaming at him: Do it! Do it! Get your hands on Steve’s gloriously muscled body –

“If you’re offering.” Steve shrugs one of his shoulders. And what he does next is so suggestive that Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be misinterpreting it.

Steve grabs the hem of his shirt and peels it off.

Startled laughter escapes Eddie’s lips, all high-pitched and cracking. But Steve looks at him like he’s deadly serious. It just makes Eddie’s nerves worse.

“How am I supposed to rub your back –” Jesus fuck, Eddie never thought he’d speak a sentence like that to Steve Harrington, “– when you’re sprawled over the entire couch like a fat housecat?”

Steve scoots closer to the inside of the couch so there’s a strip of maybe five inches near the edge. He buries his head in his arms, waiting.

Casual, Eddie reminds himself. Act casual. A casual massage between friends. It’s totally normal and not weird or sexual. Stop making it sexual.

And for the love of God, keep your fucking hands above his belt.

Eddie sits on the small space beside Steve’s thighs. And then he hesitates.

Steve’s back muscles are screaming at him. And all Eddie can think is that this must be some sort of cruel joke. Like, once he touches Steve’s bare skin, Steve will turn around and ask him what the actual fuck he thinks he’s doing.

“You alright back there, Munson?” Steve asks, craning his head backwards from the space of his arms to cop a look at Eddie, who must look stupid staring down at a shirtless Steve.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot,” he says, clenching his jaw tight as he rubs his hands together to warm them up. He presses one of his fingers into Steve’s shoulder blades, and Steve relaxes into the touch. When he doesn’t yell at Eddie to stop, he persists, adding the rest of his fingers and his palm, and then even a second hand. He kneads at Steve’s muscles and revels at how soft he feels. He expected Steve to feel hard because – well – he looks hard. All muscles and lines and edges. But really, he squishes under Eddie’s grip. Pliable. Silken. “Is this okay?”

“Feels good,” Steve says, all scratchy and low and rumbly like he really is enjoying Eddie’s touch. It was hard to keep his dick at bay when Steve helped him shower, but this is level-ten-boss hard to stop it from chubbing up. He’s glad that Steve’s face is hidden in his arms because the jeans Eddie decided to wear today are too tight to hide the semi he’s currently sporting. “The knot is a bit lower though. Can you try to loosen it?”

Eddie watches his hands as they glide down Steve’s spine. His thumbs press deliciously into the divot in the centre of Steve’s back as they find their way to his waist. “Here?” he asks as Steve trembles under his fingertips.

Eddie is making Steve tremble and he can’t do anything but watch. Isn’t that just life being a little bit of a bitch?

“Close,” Steve says, “but a bit lower still.”

His hands slip to Steve’s lower back, close to his hips. He has a passing thought – wishing he had lotion – but maybe that would make this even weirder. His hands squeeze more than massage. He notices how good his hands look there, gripping around Steve like he owns him. The only thing missing in the picture is his hips snapping against that perky little ass of his –

“Better?” He interrupts his thought process, mostly because he can’t excuse himself to rub one out in the middle of Steve’s back massage.

“Lower.”

This is a dangerous game that Eddie is playing, and he reminds himself that he’s only playing it with himself. It isn’t like Steve is trying to get Eddie’s hands on him, besides to relieve himself of his fucked up back. If Robin was here, Eddie is sure that she’d be in his position instead. So really, it’s up to him to not make it weird.

His hands work lower on the canvas that is Steve Harrington. Eddie notices the little dimples on his lower back and he indulges himself by pressing his thumbs there. They slot perfectly in the little dips. And Steve lets out a beautiful sound when Eddie applies a bit more pressure.

“Yeah. Right there.”

Steve makes these breathy little moans. They’re like music to Eddie’s ears. He physically has to stop himself from making noise of his own, because that would be a line crossed into the ‘weird’ territory he’s been desperately trying to avoid. His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he works his hands over Steve’s skin, pressing into little lumps of knots with his thumb to make the boy under him squirm and whimper. Sue him, he’s a bit of a sadist. And a bit of a masochist, because shit, it hurts all over that he can’t dip his fingers into the waistband of Steve’s pants, but he loves it all the same.

Eddie rubs Steve’s back for at least twenty minutes. He watches as the flesh under his fingers turns from light tan to reddish pink as it’s kneaded over the same area. It’s mostly quiet in the trailer, besides Steve’s hums of approval when Eddie reaches a good spot and the odd click of Eddie’s dry throat when he swallows his nerves.

Eventually, Steve sucks in a deep breath and lifts his head to signal that Eddie can stop. He almost offers to keep going anyway, but he doesn’t want Steve to know how much he enjoys touching him like this. That is, if the outline of his dick in his pants doesn’t give him away first.

When Steve sits up, Eddie grabs one of the cushions from the couch and hugs it to his lap. Casually. But maybe it draws attention to the area between his legs because Steve’s eyes trail downwards to his crotch. The look on his face makes Eddie feel like his boner is on full display, but when he looks down himself it’s fully covered by the pillow.

“Thanks, man,” Steve says, stretching his arms above his head so his abs ripple with the movement. “That feels so much better.”

Eddie is pulsing away under the tight fabric of his jeans. The whole massage session was a whole new lesson on edging. He needs to take care of the situation in his pants before it takes care of itself.

“No problem.” Eddie stands from the ledge of the couch and wishes that Steve would look away for just ten goddamn second so he could adjust himself in his jeans and drop the fucking pillow that’s hiding his predicament. But no, he’s not that lucky. Steve continues to stare up at him, blinking like he expects something from Eddie. At this point, it obvious that he’s hiding a massive erection and Eddie knows Steve’s smart enough to know why the pillow is following him to the bathroom. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”

When he finally faces away from Steve, he tosses the pillow over his shoulder in the direction of the living room without a glance.

“Need a hand?” Steve jokes. Maybe because of all the times he actually did help Eddie shower, or maybe because he’s all too aware that Eddie’s about to rub one out under the stream of hot water. Either way, Eddie groans loudly as he slams the door behind him, leaving Steve smiling behind him on the couch.

It takes him two minutes to get himself into the shower and wrap his fingers around himself. He pretends they aren’t his though, of course he does. He pretends it’s Steve’s soft fingers rather than his own rough ones. He pretends the moans that are etched in his brain are being breathed into his ear as Steve reaches around his waist and tugs between his legs while hot water cascades over them both.

He pretends it’s Steve’s thumb that presses right there, right at that good spot under the ridge of his dick.

It doesn’t take him long to come under his own touch.

He moans Steve’s name as he does, and when he falls from the throws of his orgasm, when his brain fog clears, he really hopes it wasn’t as loud as he thinks it was.

Steve is still smiling when Eddie gets out of the shower. He’s staring. Eddie can only hope it’s not for the reason he thinks it is. “What?”

“Nothing, man.” Steve stands from the couch to shoulder past where Eddie is frozen in place. His chest burns as Steve’s eyes seem to rake over his body, so exposed with only a towel wrapped on his lower half. His ravaged chest on full display. That’s probably why he stares. Steve slips inside the bathroom. “My turn,” he says. And the door clicks closed.

For a split second – and believe him when he says he blames it on a trick of the light – Eddie swears he sees Steve wink.

NEXT CHAPTER

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

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skepsiss · 2 months

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Chapter 4 is up now! (3,864 words)

Read it here on AO3: The Last Strange Thing

Rate: Explicit (violence, gore, and s*x) Read tags under the cut for warnings, and details.

Chapter summary: Steve is in a deadlock with a stranger who is threatening his life. Will they come to a truce and escape the city together as a larger threat looms in the distance? Or will this encounter end in Steve having to make quick work of this odd man? Steve has never enjoyed being violent, but he knows he can hold his own in a fight if it comes to that.

The journey is full of romance, death, action, and suspense. This is a "The Last of Us" alternate universe. This work is 100% completed, and I will be posting each chapter between now and April 7. Prepare yourself for approximately 52k of action, horror, romance, supernatural happenings, and love.

Eternally fucking grateful to @knormalizeknitting for being my beta reader and the world's best cheerleader! I cannot express how helpful it was to have someone gushing about the story I was writing while I was writing it and bogged down by 30,000 words. I DID IT! And I owe a big thanks to K for just being energetic and into the story.

Read the full series description, additional tags, the monster reference guide, and more under the cut!

Welcome to the apocalypse. The demo-infection has taken hold of the world, and humans are a rare thing these days. Still, people hang on to civilization in pockets across North America and beyond. Hawkins is one such place. Steve Harrington is a scout who runs missions for Hawkins, and on one of those missions, he becomes separated from his scouting partner, Robin. He has to find his way across Indianapolis in an infected world, meeting one very important individual on the way, Eddie. The two of them must trust one another in order to journey across Indiana, while perhaps finding something softer to nurture with one another along the way.

@llamalpaca will be posting some VERY COOL accompanying art that inspired this WHOLE PIECE! So be sure to give them a follow and check out that art piece when it drops in April.

Link to the Monster Reference Guide, here.

Censoring the word s*x so tumblr doesn't get mad at me. Please don't tag with NSFW or other such tags. The post itself is not inappropriate, but I want people who are going to read the fic to be aware of what is there.

Additional Tags: action, romance, hurt/comfort, alternate universe, The Last of Us AU, canon divergence, apocalypse, apocalypse au, body horror, gore, blood, animal and human death, excessive force (weapons), level of violence and graphic nature of imagery that aligns with Stranger Things, dead dove don’t read, dead dove don’t eat, smut, nsfw, frotting, handjob, happy ending, zombies, zombie apocalypse, steddie, stobin, platonic stobin, Steve and Robin are best friends, Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, misunderstanding, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, betrayal.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #The last of us #TLOU #Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang 2024 #stobin

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slavicviking · 4 months

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the best gift of all (is you)

For: @maryofdoom

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Eddie Munson & Dustin Henderson

Rating: G

Wordcount: 9,764

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: idiots to lovers, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Post Season 4, Punk Steve Harrington, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Aware of his own bisexuality Steve Harrington, HoH Steve Harrington

Summary:

This Christmas Eddie Munson has a goal set firmly in his mind – he’s going to sink his teeth into this mystery and he’s going to figure out who exactly Steve is, at the core. What makes him tick, what makes him laugh and cry. Eddie wants to know it all. aka the seven days of Christmas of 1986.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

#steddie #steddie holiday exchange #steve harrington #eddie munson #punk steve harrington #st #stobin #hope you enjoy c:

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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Star Child Meta: The Kings

First off, I need to say that this fandom is completely sleeping on Steve being in a boy band. Like come on! Do you not see how pretty he is? He such boy band material it isn’t even funny.

Secondly, the idea to do this was based off a tag on a reblog by @anything-thats-rock-and-roll I saw that made me laugh. Yep! You read that right, Jonathan Byers in a boy band. And hey, I added him originally for the Nancy drama and then got watching music videos from the 90s and realized that every boy band had a guy that wasn’t as conventionally attractive as the rest but still had a lot of fans and went “See? Jonathan TOTALLY fits!”

So I wanted to do a little background for you so you get a better idea of the time line. Some of this will be revealed in the story, but it’s not a spoiler per se.

The Kings were originally just Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagen, and Steve Harrington. Despite their manager (the one that sided with Steve’s parents when he was revealed to be bisexual that it should be ‘removed’) pushing Billy as the leader, Steve was just naturally more charismatic and Billy was more of bad boy, so it was usually Steve front and center.

They formed when they were 15 and had been touring the talent circuit for a couple of years when Mrs Hagen had the idea to add a fourth member to set them apart from other boy bands.

Auditions were held nationwide but they found the perfect person in their own hometown.

Joyce had gotten Jonathan into singing and dance when he was little because he had confidence issues and he could be himself. He had done the audition on a bet with Will and was surprised when they picked him. He was the shy one, but he was a better singer and dancer than Tommy and Billy combined. So Jonathan and Steve were often upfront when doing their numbers.

Almost immediately they started getting recognized more and more and suddenly after just four months after Jonathan joined, they had a record deal.

Which pissed Billy off. He started acting out. Behaving more and more irrationally. Heavy drinking that turned into heavy drugs. Tommy had only ever been in for the ladies and slept around.

But the media codified everything. Billy was the bad boy partier. Watch out ladies, you better be able to keep up ;). Tommy was the lady’s man. Out to break hearts. Steve was the hometown golden boy, have your daughters home by nine. Jonathan was the shy nerd. You’ll have to work to get his attention, ladies, but once you have he will shower you with looooovve.

Steve was caught kissing a roadie about five years into their career and got sent off to a conversion therapy camp, the press was told that it was just a retreat for Steve to rest up after such a long tour in Europe. But that started the decent that ultimately broke up the band. Billy got sent to rehab, which he ran away from multiple times. Tommy met Carol and started dating heavily. Something the manager and label was against because they wanted to keep the lady’s man image up. Well, okay the decent into breaking up happened before that.

Nancy was part of girl band that often toured with Kings. Steve and Nancy got together when they were both just starting out. And were together for a year. Before she cheated on him with Jonathan. The official story was that Nancy and Steve had broken up the week before and Jonathan was consoling her and that’s how they got together.

But that’s what started Steve becoming riskier with who he got around with. What fans don’t know because the label spent a SHIT TON of money covering it up was that Steve was sleeping through half of LA and whoever he could find on the road. Steve’s parents and manager only knew of the one roadie, but the label was aware of other men Steve had been with. A fact they held over him when he went solo. Robin managed to get them to agree to five albums instead of for life like they wanted.

Billy’s last escape from rehab resulted in his death. He had bought from an unreliable dealer and it wasn’t as cut as what Billy was used to and it killed him. Tommy and Carol got married immediately and Tommy regretted it almost right after. He started sleeping around, getting drunk, beating his wife. Then just before the Grammy’s (Tommy’s own solo album had been nominated) Carol announced she was divorcing him and he beat her with in an inch of her life and left her for dead to go to the award show.

She was found by a neighbor who’s dog wouldn’t stop barking at Carol and Tommy’s door. And Tommy went to jail for attempted murder.

Jonathan and Nancy have been dating steadily for years with very little hiccups. There was a time that everyone thought they were going to break up because Nancy was still on tour with her band and Jonathan was in LA writing the memoirs of the Kings and the long distance strained their relationship. But once they got back together, they’ve been solid ever since.

I’m going to tag the people that wanted to be tagged in the Star Child story. If you don’t want to be tagged in meta or extras, just main story, let me know.

Tag List: @gleek4twd @gregre369 @whatthemeepever @cutepumpkin4 @spectrum-spectre @livelaughlexa @ohlook-afrog @linkydinky06 @goodolefashionedloverboi @moonshadows-13 @eboyawstenn @avacrebs @bejeweledbaby

#My writing #meta #rockstar au #boy band #stranger things #ladykailtiha writes

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berenwrites · 11 months

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Freaks - Stranger Things - Steddie

Freaks: What the World Sees - A Stranger Things Future Fic

A/N: For @steddie-week day 5. This is kind of a sequel to yesterday’s fic (So Sorry), but you don’t have to have read that one to get this one. :D

Prompt: Together / Established relationship / Hold the Line by Toto

Summary: The world knows a lot about famous guitarist and singer Eddie Munson, including things about his husband, but there is so much they don’t see as well.

Also on AO3

Everyone knows that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame is a freak – his own description, not ours. Famous for hard rock and weathering the storm of being outed as bisexual during the band’s rise to fame, Munson is anything but average.

Not least of all because he still looks no more than twenty-five even though he’s in his forties. When asked about his lasting good looks he either responds with something along the lines of ‘It’s all the good sex’ or simply ‘I’m a vampire’. There was even that one story from the early nineties of a groupie sneaking onto the group’s tour bus and finding real blood in the refrigerator.

The band did a whole photoshoot with fake fangs and fake blood after that one to make a point, and their next music video was very gothic.

That Munson once stopped a large and heavy speaker tower from falling on the band’s drummer Gareth Emerson with apparently no effort helped fuel the rumours. He just claimed adrenaline and leverage were on his side before threatening to sue the festival they had been performing at.

What fewer people know is Munson’s long-time partner and now husband, is also on the eccentric side. Steve Harrington is a fixture with the group. Often assumed to be a roadie in the early days of the band, Harrington is never far from Munson’s side, and has several writing credits on the band’s albums. Often hiding behind dark glasses, Harrington remains just as youthful as his husband, and never gives interviews.

There have been a few peculiar stories about him over the years, including that he always travels with a baseball bat studded with nails somewhere close by. One fan even claimed to have taken a picture of it in the trunk of his car.

“It’s for monster fighting, of course,” Munson famously said when asked about it in one interview.

The couple have a rich and close social group, including the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Nancy Wheeler and her long term partner, photojournalist Johnathan Byers, physicists & computing pioneers Dustin & Suzie Henderson-Bingham, basketball star Lucas Sinclair and his sister, youngest ever serving congresswoman Erica Sinclair, renown UN negotiator Robin Buckley, fantasy author Mike Wheeler and his long term partner, illustrator and graphic artist Will Byers, actress and director Jane ‘EL’ Hopper, and vocal children’s law advocate Max Mayfield.

Members of ‘The Party’ as they refer to themselves were involved in the tragedies which overtook the small town of Hawkins Indiana in the early to mid-80s. According to several of them, the events that took place there have bonded them together forever no matter how far across the planet they spread.

This can be seen in connections such as Munson’s band Corroded Coffin being contracted to do the soundtrack for two of Hopper’s breakout movies. Or the benefit concert Munson and Harrington organised, calling on friends in the music industry, to raise money and awareness for Mayfield’s children’s charity.

This list goes on. It seems there is little these incredibly successful people will not do for each other.

However, when asked what keeps him going and striving for bigger and better things, Eddie Munson’s answer since the pair came out as a couple has always been ‘Steve’. Unlike some celebrity marriages, this one seems built on very sure foundations.

As Corroded Coffin tour with yet another award-winning album, we wish them continued success bringing their music to the new generation.

~*~

Eddie put down the article after reading it out over the breakfast table.

“Stevie, you’re a freak now too,” Eddie said with a laugh.

“Still not a nerd though,” Steve replied, peering over the top of his dark glasses.

Ever since Eddie had carried him out of the Upside Down, turning him into a vampire to save his life, Steve hadn’t been able to deal with bright light. And their kitchen was definitely bright. It was something Eddie had never suffered from, which Steve was thankful for given Eddie’s career choice, although Eddie had his own idiosyncrasies to deal with.

“Your book collection begs to differ,” Eddie told him with a grin.

“Lots of those are Mike’s,” he defended himself.

“Sweetheart, one of the rooms in this house is a library, I don’t think you can blame that all on Mike,” his husband replied, laughing at him again.

“I don’t know, he’s a creative little shit,” he said, grinning back.

“Big shit these days, he’s taller than both of us. Isn’t his latest book launch party coming up soon?” Eddie asked.

“First Thursday of next month,” he replied.

“That’s next Thursday,” Eddie said, eyes going comically wide.

“I know,” Steve said.

“Shit, I’ve got nothing to wear,” Eddie said, pushing his chair away from the table. “I can’t turn up in anything I’ve worn before, the press would eat me alive.”

Steve watched his ridiculous husband scramble away fondly, slowly counting in his head. He got to thirty before Eddie appeared back in the kitchen doorway.

“It’s a costume party, isn’t it?” Eddie said.

Steve nodded.

“And Mike already allocated us costumes, didn’t he?” Eddie added.

“Yep,” Steve replied. “Now how about you come sit back down and finish breakfast?”

Eddie slunk back in and folded gracefully into his chair.

“How do you keep all this shit straight in your head?” he asked, picking up his glass of juice.

“I’m not writing the next billboard smash in the back of my brain while doing everything else,” Steve said and grinned. “All I have to do is look pretty, it’s easy.”

He blew his husband a kiss.

“You keep telling yourself that, Mr I-know-the-security-systems-of-every-stadium-better-than-the-guys-paid-to,” Eddie shot back. “And keep fluttering your eyelashes at me like that and neither of us are getting to finish breakfast.”

“Maybe I’m not hungry for food,” he said with a tiny, innocent smile.

He began counting in his head again. Eddie only had so much self-control and Steve always enjoyed snapping it.

The End

Find my other steddie fanfic listed here in my pinned post.

#stranger things fanfiction #steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie lives #stranger things #fanfic #post season 4 #vampires #vampire eddie munson #steddieweek2023

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katytheinspiredworkaholic · 9 months

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WIP Wednesday

Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Steve’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. Eddie wakes up alone in the Upside Down, not knowing how he survived, and unable to reach anyone topside in Hawkins. Wounded and alone, he finds shelter at the Harrington’s house (the place is a damn fortress after all), and while hiding out there discovers that he has gained the ability to walk into other people’s dreams.

(unbeta’d snippet from Chapter 02; the second dream that Eddie encounters where it belongs to Steve and not himself. He’s still learning the ropes on the dream-walking, rules tbd. Some more information is revealed on both sides, although Steve still believes Eddie is dead, and Eddie is just glad to be around another human being. Especially one that is comes in the shape of Steve Harrington. There are talks about his death, as well as some characters that appear or are mentioned in the dream that Eddie does not know are alive/hurt/dead, and in this particular fic Eddie is gay instead of bisexual. I personally support all orientations for him. We just love Eddie given the chance to love in this household, no matter what shape or form that comes in.)

—

When Eddie dreams that night, he’s surprised to find himself in a very vivid version of Hawkins.

It’s evening, and the sky is a beautiful watercolor dusk of blues and pinks and purples. It’s not too hot, like summer, but no chill of autumn creeps under his clothes, and if he’s not mistaken – he can hear the sound of laughter and bike wheels clicking just down the road. He blinks himself into awareness, sitting atop the picnic table outside of his trailer like he’s done many a night with his Uncle Wayne. Smoking cigarettes and talking about everything and nothing at all. But Wayne isn’t there, and when he looks over to the road that runs alongside Forest Hills Trailer Park he can see Max booking it around the corner with her skateboard under her feet and the rest of their crew on their bikes waiting for her. Looking up to no good. Eddie’s favorite kind of activity.

He tosses his cigarette to the gravel, and starts making his way over – hoping to catch them – and finds another person walking along the road a few yards ahead of him. A very familiar person, and Eddie (God help him) actually grins at the sight. Ever since the first time he’d dreamed of Steve (or with him, jury’s still out on that one) Eddie had had nothing but nightmares and the deep sleep of blackness that was almost just as scary. Steven Harrington was a sight for sore eyes.

“Harrington!” he calls into the evening air, making Steve pause and look back at him. He’d been keeping an eye on the kids, the group making their way somewhere on this side of town with the kids doing wheelies and trying to hop the curb while Max flipped her skateboard and schooled all the boys with her skills.

“Munson,” Steve greets him, a smile curling at the side of his mouth handsomely and hanging back until Eddie caught up to him. Such a gentleman. “I see you’ve decided to join us.”

Eddie has no idea what he is talking about, but it’s a dream and Eddie was born to role-play so he just shrugs his shoulders and gives Steve a grin that’s more devil-may-care than mischievous (like he was going for). “Yeah, well, I figured it was time for me to make an appearance in the land of the living.”

Steve frowns at him, hands in his pockets, and the change in expression is so quick it's comical.

“That’s not funny.”

Eddie cackles, despite himself. “It’s a little funny. I almost died, man, let me own it.”

He doesn’t mean to say it the way he does; but just like that, the tension leaks out of Steve’s stupidly broad shoulders – and the dream makes sense once more. It can continue without bringing up the awkward fact that Eddie did die. Out there. But right here, right now, he’d made it, and they were walking the weirdly vacant streets of Hawkins while the sun set as slow as molasses on the horizon.

But it’s nice, this atmosphere around them. The day laying itself to rest, the kids in the background, he and Steve shooting the shit as they walk at a leisurely pace. Yet, the kids never go too far out of sight, and the sun never sets too low, and the streets seem to go on for miles no matter how many blocks they walk. Eddie eventually pulls out a blunt and lights up, offering it to Steve as they walk. Only about a foot of space between them, shoulders bumping when they meander too close.

“So where are we going, again?” he asks, taking the blunt back from Steve after letting him have the green hit. The guy's lung capacity from being a swimmer all those years really comes in handy, there, the cloud of smoke he lets out is impressive to say the least.

“The Byers place? Family dinner?” Steve says it like questions, although they are very much statements. Eddie had no clue that was their destination. “Joyce and Hopper have them all the time, and you better be glad you decided to come tonight before you got on their bad side. You’ve missed too many already.”

Hopper.

This really was a dream.

Eddie coughs on his exhale, choking on it more like, and spits onto the ground frantically to get the taste of marijuana out of his mouth. “Shit! Jesus Christ.” He immediately puts out the blunt on the bottom of his dirty white high-tops, hopping on one foot to do so while Steve hovers nearby incase he topples over. “You coulda warned me! Fucking Hopper.” But Eddie is all smiles as he says it. Because Hopper, man that had been a blow to the gut when he’d died last year. He missed that man’s hard-ass mug, even more so during the whole ‘hiding from the police’ incident that just occurred. Eddie couldn’t help but think that if Hopper had been around he wouldn’t have been on the run, or hunted down so viciously by all of Hawkins.

“He’s not a cop, anymore,” Steve informs him, laughing at his scatter to hide his contraband.

“Yeah but he’s busted my ass far too many times for me to show up at his HOUSE reeking of the devil’s lettuce.”

Steve laughs loud and carefree into the night, and Eddie wishes he could bottle up that sound and keep it forever. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard it from Steve before.

He spends the rest of their walk doing his utmost best to get him to laugh like that over and over again.

Eventually, they make it down the rows of suburban houses and into the wooded outskirts. Where the Byers live. Everyone in town avoided it after the youngest Byers kid died and then came back to life. Eddie never really got to ask the more in-depth questions about that, Henderson and Mayfield had kind of glossed over it. But it definitely had something to do with the Upside Down.

Then, before he could blink, they arrived at the little one-story house hidden beneath towering trees and bracketed by the forest. Eddie has never been here before. He imagined a decrepit place, after it being empty for so long and no one buying the property. But it looks well cared for. The driveway is full of cars and the kids' bikes are tossed in the grass, and there’s laughter coming from the backyard. And Eddie hesitates. This place, this home, it feels so established. There’s so many details. Is this what was actually happening out there, right now?

“So this is your dream, is it?”

Steve stops when Eddie speaks, turning around to find him still standing in the middle of the driveway among fallen leaves and not taking another step towards the house. He looks at Eddie weirdly, confusion creasing into his expression as he squints his eyes.

“What?” It would be a weirdly specific question, if Harrington realizes he’s dreaming. Eddie isn’t sure, so he swallows and kicks at the leaves on the ground.

“This,” he nods to the house. “This is what we fought for? No one is dead. Everyone is here. Family dinners.” It hurts Eddie’s empathetic little heart more than a bit, that this is what Steve dreams of. This is what makes him look so content, unlike the state of stress and distress he’d seen for days on end over Spring Break.

“Yeah, Munson. This is it. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.” Steve tries to say it sarcastically, it sort of comes out that way, but the real meaning behind the words shines so genuinely in his eyes Eddie feels fondness blossom in his own chest. ((This is everything he’s ever wanted. Family Dinner. Everyone alive and safe.))

God, Eddie was so fucked. And about Steve fucking Harrington, too. How was this his life?

“...are you sure I should come in? I mean,” Eddie kind of gestures to himself. Every inch of his appearance screams he’s someone that doesn’t exactly fit into a ‘family dinner’ scenario. He’d spent a long time cultivating that look, don’t get him wrong. But he’s not exactly the guy you bring home to meet the parents, anyway. Drug dealer, three-time senior, closer to being able to buy beer than getting his diploma or a real job. Eddie has no illusions about his situation.

Steve looks legitimately offended.

“Of course you should come in.”

As if there was no other explanation. No argument whatsoever. Not to him. It makes butterflies the size of those damn demobats start to flutter about in Eddie’s stomach. He covers the sensation the best way he knows how.

“Aww, Harrington,” he coos, twisting a little and swaying like a schoolgirl in pigtails – dragging a strand of hair across his face for good measure. He can pantomime with the best of them. “You’d miss me that much if I wasn’t there?”

“Yes.”

Steve doesn’t hesitate, and doesn’t take the bait of Eddie trying to twist this into an unserious scenario. Hell, Eddie isn’t sure Steve pauses to breathe first before he answers. And Eddie’s eyes go a little wider when that about knocks the wind out of him. His charade shattered and broken apart in his hands.

But Steve doesn’t act any wiser to Eddie’s minor melt down, just shakes his head with no playfulness in sight. He can’t seem to look away from Eddie for anything, either. It’s so quiet his ears ring. Even the slight breeze has stopped blowing against them.

“It’s not right. If you’re not here. With all of us. With me.”

Eddie feels like he’s having heart palpitations.

“You… you died, Eddie,” Steve presses, earnest, and when did he start walking closer? “You actually died down there. I did CPR on you forever trying to bring you back.”

“You did?” Eddie asks, the words nearly lost by the hum of the evening air around them.

“Yeah. I did.” Steve blinks, a shutter of a thing, and then he smiles at him softly. “Thank God, right?” And then the dream story tries to slide back into place, a little more disjointed than before, and Eddie isn’t quite sure Steve believes it to be true either. Grasping at it desperately, for his own sake. Not knowing that Eddie is aware it’s a dream, too.

But that’s an existential ideal for another day. Eddie still has to recalibrate everything that just transpired for a minute. Holding up a hand to get Steve to stop talking for a moment so he can wrap his head around it.

“You,” he points to Steve, then turns the finger back to himself, “gave me mouth-to-mouth.”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs. Completely unbothered. “I’m certified. Lifeguard, remember? Co-captain of the Swim Team?”

“How could I forget,” Eddie laughs, a lightly maniacal thing, running his hand through his hair just to ground himself. “Jesus Christ, Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and I wasn’t even awake to appreciate it. My poor little gay heart, high school me would be devastated.”

“You’re still in High School,” Steve points out with an incredulous smile, Eddie flipping him off on instinct. But then Steve does a full physical double-take. “Wait – what did you just say?”

Eddie stares at him like a deer in the headlights for all of 2.3 seconds.

Okay, dream-sharing time is over.

“And that’s enough for this round of ‘Eddie Munson Opens His Big Fat Mouth’.” He steps up into Steve’s space, turning him by the shoulders and backing him up against the side panels of his own BMW. Eddie would know that damn sedan anywhere. “Time’s up, big boy. Back to bed.” Steve looks confused, as if Eddie is speaking in tongues, and a spark of alarm grows in his widening brown eyes. Eddie is close enough to watch it dawn on him. Like he remembers.

Can’t risk that shit.

So Eddie winks at him, all bravado, and taps the other man twice on the cheek.

“Until next time, Harrington.”

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

#st spoilers for season 04 #wip Wednesday #steddie #dreamwalker subconscious series #this is just a snippet #ptsd steve in the house #should I really be giving away all the dreams in full like this?#probably not. but there's like 5 of you reading them so I think I'm in the clear #and Steve's version is SO MUCH LONGER with a lot of dialogue filled in. And feelings. Steve has a lot of feelings #cw grief #cw character death mentioned #cw smoking #gay eddie munson #dream sequence makes the world all topsy-tervy #everything is made up and the rules don't matter #I'm having fun #katyswriting

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writethesleepaway · 2 years

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Can't Fight This Feeling - P1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: After Steve comes to the realization that he's bisexual, he's determined in going after what he wants; Eddie Munson. What he assumed would be an easy performance of flirting quickly turns into a complicated maze as he realises Eddie is more bark than bite.

Or, Steve Harrington is a manwhore and Eddie Munson is simultaneously horrified and turned on by the advances.

Word Count: 2372

A/N: This is my first piece of writing that I've uploaded on this account (I'm not new to writing fanfics ehehe) but I'm terrified anyways! In this story, everything that's happened in the show has happened, however Eddie lives and this story is set a few months after the events of Vecna. Also I was inspired by a post by @tuvens talking about manwhore Steve and Eddie so this is that :D I think there will be about 3-4 parts to this! oki bye lots of love <3

Here is Part 2!

(divider by @delishlydelightfuldividers)

It was a well known fact that Steve Harrington was a ladies' man. He's had several girls wrapped around his finger, although he would argue that Nancy was his first love and the girls before didn't mean as much. He knew this was a dick move, but hey, at least he was aware of it. Ever since dealing with demogorgons, demo bats, demowhatever, he's had a lot of time to think about who he was. And he was a ladies' man.

Yet nobody knew the extent of that statement. Word was that Steve was a natural, he just knew what to do with his body, he just knew what to do with his words, but this was far from the truth. The world did not realise how much effort, trial and error, embarrassing conversations and 'experimenting' had gone into shaping Steve's love life. He had tried many things, with many different people, many times.

At the end of his 'research', Steve came to the conclusion that he liked to please. He liked to make people writhe and squirm under him and feel fuzzy from intense feelings. He also wanted to writhe and squirm under someone, but that was a concern for a different time. After all, not many girls were interested in that. Which is what led Steve to wonder if he was into guys, if he had always been into guys.

Then came along Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Eddie had surprisingly soft, tender hands with only the tips of his fingers being rough and callused. Fingers that had delicately danced over Steve's skin before, right above his belt line and slightly under his shirt, on accident, of course. Steve thought he'd be addicted to something else from Eddie, beer, weed, but definitely not the feeling of his fingers gliding over his skin. For something that had happened only a couple of times, he thought about it way too much.

"I think I wanna try Eddie Munson." Steve called out, to nobody in particular. He knew that Robin was somewhere in the back, probably reading some magazine. He didn't expect her to actually be listening.

"Dude, are you crazy? First of all, you guys are friends now. You know he's not he's not actually that bad. Second of all, he'd actually stab you. If you want some cheap fight do it with some sophomore kid, not with Eddie." Robin explained with only her head popping out from the doorway. Steve pulled a face at her.

"A fight? No dumbass I meant the other type of try." Steve responded.

"What other type of try?" Robin inquired.

"The, on my dick, type of try." Steve answered nonchalantly. Robin's jaw dropped as she looked at Steve, eyes going back and forth between his own to look for any signs of laughter. When she realised he was serious, her body hit the wall as she slid down to the floor, landing with a slight grunt.

"Steve...? You do realise that you're not into guys right?"

The boy's eyes drop to the floor. He knew he had never talked to Robin about this, he didn't think he would have to, he always thought she'd just casually accept anything. Robin noticed the change in his reaction and regretted her choice of words.

"Oh Steve... I'm sorry I thought you were kidding or... Whatever, doesn't matter. So, are you gay?" Robin asked, this time with a softness in her voice.

"Uh, not exactly. I think I'm bisexual." Steve responded, with a slight smile on his face.

"Okay, that's cool!"

For a moment, the two forgot the initial comment Steve had said to start the conversation. Until Robin's jaw dropped again.

"Wait don't you think for a second that I don't remember what you said before. You wanna fuck Eddie?" Robin yelled, causing Steve to warily glance around the store to make sure nobody had come in.

"Yes, is that so hard to believe?"

"I mean... I'm shocked. You just came to terms with a major aspect of your identity, your sexuality, and you've completely skipped over it and now you're talking about fucking Eddie Munson!" Robin yelled again, this time waving her arms around to express her surprise.

"Jesus, just tell the whole world why don't you." Steve groaned as he dragged his hands down his face.

"Robin, I've always known. Ever since I was like 12. I've just never had the opportunity to act on it. Deeply, I'm bisexual. But even deeper down, I'm a raging whore, who likes to feel good. If I can get that from both girls and guys, then of course I'm going to go for it." Steve explained to a still very shocked Robin.

"Well, at least you're self aware..." Robin muttered. She was mesmerized at Steve's confession. Had he always felt this way? Was she just unable to tell? Had her gaydar become weak? Questions raced through her mind, but the biggest one of all was, why Eddie? Steve and Eddie, although friends, were polar opposites. She had heard of the term 'opposites attract' but she didn't actually expect it to be true.

A few days later, almost as if the gods had called him in, Eddie waltzed through the front door of Family Video, turning left to cruise down the aisles before noticing Steve and Robin waiting at the front desk. Robin turned to look at Steve, who was already staring at Eddie. His eyes followed the metalhead all around the store, taking notice of every little detail about him. The little sweat droplets forming on his torso, peeking out from the home-made crop top Eddie wore, as they dropped to his ripped jeans. The ripped jeans that were just low enough to show the sway of Eddie's hips as he slowly walked around, browsing for movies. The signature black handkerchief moved side to side as he did. Steve had never seen his friend's hair up before, especially not in a bun, with a few stray pieces framing his face. His eyes travelled back down to Eddie's hands, adorned with 3 rings, and the now freshly painted black nail polish on his nails.

"Steve, you spend way too much time staring at his ass." Robin pointed out.

"Excuse you, I was looking at his fingers." Steve replied.

"I wanna lick them." he whispered, after a few moments of silence, earning a smack in the shoulder from Robin.

"Can either of you help me? You'd think you'd do a better job." Eddie called out, now turned and looking at Steve and Robin standing behind the counter. Before Robin could even tell Steve to go up to him, he'd already made his way around and walked over to the aisle.

"Hey pretty boy, what can I help you with?" Steve asked innocently. Eddie blinked at him, eyes wide open, surprised at the new nick name. Steve blinked back with the same innocent look, as if there was nothing odd about what he had just said.

"So, I've gone from Eddie 'The Freak' Munson straight to pretty boy, huh? I guess I did something right to rise in the ranks this quick." said Eddie, earning a chuckle from Steve.

"I need the Terminator."

"Terminator? Not your style Eddie. What's gotten into you, you got a date or something?" Steve joked as he let himself look up and down at the figure in front of him, something Eddie definitely took notice of.

"I hate it. But the guys in my band wanted to watch it for movie night, so I have to oblige." Eddie explained, looking away to avoid Steve's intense looks, but also to hide the blush that was forming on his face.

"So what I'm getting from this is that you're single and like to please others?" Steve suggested, a slight smirk pulling at his lips. Eddie's head whipped around, eyes wide open again, and cheeks red. Steve laughed to himself at the reaction. Cute, he thought to himself.

"How the hell did you get that from what I said?" Eddie asked, trying to hide part of his face with his hands. Steve shrugged as he walked away, motioning for Eddie to follow him with his fingers.

"So I'm right." he stated, matter-of-factly. He grabbed the movie from the rack and walked over to the counter to scan the item, looking down to see Robin hiding under the desk, with her finger held up to her lips.

"That'll be $3.50."

"You're not, actually." Eddie muttered.

"I'm not what? Use your words, hun." The slip of the pet name was accidental, but Steve decided that he liked it, and he guessed Eddie did too, from the new blush that formed over his cheeks.

"You're not right. I don't like to please." Eddie explained as he handed over the money.

"Then what do you like to do?" Steve asked, turning his head to the right as he leaned his head in his hands, now looking up into Eddie's eyes.

"That's my information, Harrington."

"Well, I'd like to find out some time." he whispered, as Eddie's face contorted into one of confusion? Surprise? Steve couldn't really tell, but it was definitely a reaction.

"What happens in my sex life stays in my room Steve."

"Oh, who ever mentioned anything about sex?" Steve joked. Eddie froze, worried that he had misread the situation. Before he could do anything, Steve spoke up again.

"And, is that an invitiation to your house?" he suggested, now smiling.

"Nice try, your highness. Come over to my trailer uninvited and I'll actually hurt you." Eddie sang as he walked away from the counter.

"Who knows, I might actually be into that!" Steve called out just before Eddie walked out the door. Their eyes met as he watched him walk away, never looking away until Eddie was out of sight. Steve couldn't tell if there was a smile or a smirk on his face. He swore there was something, some up turn of the lips.

Robin jumped up from under the counter, looking at Steve, once again with her mouth wide open.

"Robin, you're going to catch all the flies in Hawkins. Close your mouth you look like a fish." Steve suggested as he took a seat on the counter.

"What the FUCK was that?!" Robin demanded.

"What the fuck was what?" Steve responded, feigning innocence.

"THAT! Are you kidding me? One day you accept your sexuality, then you say you wanna fuck Eddie Munson, and then you literally open the dam holding back Flirtation River and drown the poor guy! Did you see how red he was?" Robin yelled.

"Yeah? That was my goal?"

"Okay, Jesus, you definitely achieved your goal... But have you considered that Eddie might not want to fuck you?"

The question stumped Steve. He hadn't actually considered that a lot. He assumed that Eddie's behaviour was flirting, which could only mean one thing right...? Why would he flirt if he wasn't interested in Steve.

"Hey, wait wait. No. You're not ugly, Steve, you're not bad. I'm not saying you're not good enough, or that he doesn't wanna fuck you. I'm just saying maybe he doesn't want anything right now in general." said Robin as she noticed Steve's face drop.

"Well, that's why you flirt to make the intentions painfully clear. Then they figure out whether they want to do something about it. You do it until they give you a response that is clear." said Steve.

"Dear God I knew you were a flirt but I didn't know you had this in you..." Robin mumbled.

"To be honest, I didn't either... It just kinda came out when I was talking to him."

"Oh my god, you are so screwed. You want him so bad!" Robin giggled as she finished her sentence. She was excited to see this new side of Steve, someone more bold.

"Yes! God, yes. I don't think I've ever wanted someone like this so bad before. I'm glad it's obvious, let's just hope that he's smart enough to pick up on it." He giggled too. He felt giddy at the thought of having Eddie to himself.

"But, I don't know Steve... Maybe reel it in a little. You don't wanna freak the dude out."

"Wait, really?" A puzzled look appeared on his face.

"Yeah. You gotta think about it, up until a couple of months ago, he thought you were a bully, a prick, an asshole. He didn't hang out with any of us. He didn't have the experience of fighting anything from the Upside Down, and now you're talking about sex a mile a minute. It's gotta cause him emotional whiplash."

The two now sat together, next to each other, on the counter.

"Hm. I didn't think about it that way."

"Yeah, Steve, you don't think about many things in any way. You're kind of a himbo.

"A himbo...? What's that?"

"A he bimbo. You're attractive, but you're a bit dull in the head."

Steve rolled his eyes at the explanation. "Thank you Robin, you're kind as ever."

"Okay well, you get what I'm saying. Maybe take it slow a bit. You only just became kinda sorta friends with him a few months ago."

"Got it! I get what you mean. Next time he comes in, or when I see him next, I'll reign it in."

"Something tells me you don't knwow what I mean, but okay!"

As Steve lay in bed that night he thought about what had happened earlier in the day. He loved seeing Eddie's reactions to the words he had said, the little spark in his eyes, the faint blush wash over his cheeks. He could watch him squirm like that for days and he wouldn't get tired of it. But his mind brought back Robin's words. What if Eddie didn't want to fuck him? What if he had misread everything. What if he had ruined his friendship with the guy? His worries washed away as he imagined Eddie lying in bed next to him. He'd trail his fingers up and down Eddie's chest, enjoying every second with him. Steve fell asleep that night thinking of what to do the next time he would see his favourite metalhead.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #robin buckley #steddie #steveddie #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve eddie #stranger things ships #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fix it #vellarawrites

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steddie-fanfic-recs · 5 months

Text

The Baby Project

by miraculousmultifan

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & The Party, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, The Party (Stranger Things), Gareth (Stranger Things), Jeff (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things), I named him Frank, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Robin Buckley, Wayne Munson Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, kind of?, Accidental Baby Acquisition, also kind of?, school project partners, Aware of Own Bisexuality Steve Harrington, Post-Season/Series 02, Pre-Season/Series 03, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Gay Disaster Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, slight angst, slight miscommunication Words: 33,968 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Steve turned around with a grin and propped his elbows up on Munson's desk. Then, before he could really think about the words coming out of his mouth, he said, “Guess that makes us married then, huh darling?” Munson, of course, stared back at him blankly, but instead of backtracking or something, Steve batted his eyelashes for good measure, really hamming it up. Munson blinked at him once. Then twice. Then he raised an eyebrow and said, deadpan, “What the fuck are you talking about?” *** In the last month and a half of Steve's senior year, he gets paired up with Eddie Munson for the final project in Mrs. O'Donnell's Home Economics class. The assignment? To take care of a fake baby for four weeks. For some reason, Steve finds himself surprisingly excited. Eddie, not so much.

#steddie #steddie fic rec #oneshot #25-50k #fluff #getting together #miscommunication

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