Thinking of Steddie Soulmates where you feel every pain your soulmate feels.
Thinking of little Steve feeling every backhand and punch from Eddie’s dad.
Thinking of little Eddie feeling Steve break his arm and the pain being so much worse because his parents refuse to take him to the hospital until the school gets involved.
Thinking of Eddie finally moving in with Wayne and sure, the paternal beating are done, but now he’s just a small town Freak that’s constantly targeted.
Thinking of Eddie and Steve in their Sophomore/Freshman years respectively, not knowing who the other is outside of rumors and (unknowingly) their shared pain.
Thinking of Eddie finally escaping pain, the bullying turning to mainly verbal shit.
Only to be thrust right back into pain because his soulmates a walking hazard.
Thinking of Eddie having no idea what’s going on when he suddenly feels like one giant bruise after Steve’s beat up by Jonathan. Eddie watching Steve fall from grace in his Junior year and not connecting the dots.
Billy coming along and smashing a fucking plate over Steve’s head while Eddie’s peacefully sleeping. Eddie jolting awake with a shout because /holy fucking shit ow—/
Neither of them connecting the dots.
Then Steve graduates, and Eddie’s held back. And the pain subsides for a bit.
And then fuck all happens in Starcourt and Eddie literally feels like he’s dying and Jesus H. Christ is his soulmate /ok/??? Like they are getting seriously fucked up.
And then that recedes and it ok for a while— Eddie will still get killer pains that seem to circulate in his chest and head, but that’s to be expected with whatever tf his poor soulmate is going through year after year.
And then the fuckery of March 1986 happens and Chrissy Cunningham is dead in his trailer— his home— and he’s wanted for fucking murder and hiding in Rick’s dingy ass boat house—
And then he’s shoving none other than Steve Harrington up against a wall with a broken bottle helps to his throat. Eddie’s so piped on adrenaline he barely feels the sting in his back, but he does feel the zing of pressure on his throat and ok /ow—/
And he’s staring at Steve Harrington, who looks kinda terrified and so pretty and Eddie’s holding a bottle to his throat and is that Dustin?—
And—
And holy shit.
Eddie’s eyes widen at the same time as Steve’s and the realization hits them both at once.
2K notes
·
View notes
jayy!! lately i’ve been thinking that steve really really likes it when you ride him. like yeah, he loves to see you on top but i feel like he loves the idea of you using him to get off yknow?? like he just wants to be your boy toy. doesn’t even care if he doesn’t cum, but gets SO WHINY and blushy when he does cause he just feels so so lucky to have you jump his bones🙌
UGH i need him like i need to BREATHE. need him to whine in my ears 24/7
-🍒
oh lawd. this one…. brain goes BRRRRRRR what did you PUT in this ask cherry…. does this fit the prompt? maybe 🤪 but it was written at work so have mercy on me
Of all the things Steve loves in the world, making you feel good? Top of the list.
That much is a given— with the fervor in which he’ll bury his face between your thighs, moans that vibrate against your cunt just right, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips rut against the bed.
When he’s determined to pull an orgasm out of you with his hands, his darkened hazel eyes drinking in every moan, desperately flicking between your blissed out expression and his fingers pumping into your cunt, covered in your slick— all of it shows in the ache in his pants, in the breathy noises he makes when you tip over the edge.
So, you’re not at all surprised at what he says to you that night — take what you want.
You’re both tangled together, haphazardly draped across the bed— too entranced in the hot press of each others mouth to think about letting go, even as you had both staggered up the stairs and into the bedroom. It had been one charged dinner date, with one hand far too comfortable sneaking up your skirt go tease you.
Now, Steve lies beneath you and when you break away, panting, to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, he’s a fucking sight to behold. Chest heaving, face flushed so much it crawls down his neck, his eyes fix on you with such an intenseness that it makes you shiver.
His shirt has been driving you crazy all dinner, undone just enough to show a flash of chest hair. Now you work it open quickly, each button revealing a little more of his glorious tanned chest, sprinkled with hair. Lust drools through you. You rake one hand down it, fingernails pressing into his skin lightly and Steve groans.
“Okay, you need to get naked, like, right now,” His hands pair with his words, finding the edge of your shirt. He’s tugging it up and your arms go up to let him pull it from your frame. His insistance makes your grin.
“Funny how you can say that when you’re still wearing pants.” You bicker back, using your now free hands to work on his belt buckle.
Steve watches you for a moment, his tummy clenches when you palm at his bulge for a moment and his head rolling back onto the duvet. He makes a pained noise. His hands form fists at his sides — just for a moment, before he’s sliding them up your thighs.
They creep beneath your skirt, finding the elastic of your panties — then one of his hands shift forward, cupping your heat tightly. You moan at the same time Steve does, his hand pressing up against your clit perfectly. He shakes his head on the bed, his hair messing up against the sheets.
“I take it back,” He whines. His hands shoot down to overtake yours, shucking his pants down his thighs as best he can. Just the thin material of his boxers remains. “I don’t think I can wait, honey, I need— you can just- please,”
“Hey, hey, I got it, I got you,” You push his hands away and Steve melts. He grows still, only his hands twitching and his neck craned up to watch as you tug his boxers down.
His cock must be aching with the way it looks, all pretty and flushed in the head, crying just for you. You can’t help yourself, giving it a quick pump, rubbing the head with your thumb.
Steve keens loudly, his body growing taut, his head thrown back. A strangled whimper tears from his throat. “Ngh- please, oh fuck, pleasepleaseplease—“
You release his cock and Steve deflates a bit, panting loudly. Your skirt takes only a second to remove and it takes another to push your panties to the side, your knees straddling across his hips. Your core burns hotly, clenching in anticipation of being filled.
You make sure Steve is watching as you hold his cock, prepped to sink down — and he is. His face, still flushed with his eyes bright, is intent on watch your own.
It makes the heat in your gut flare hotter. Hot lust sparks beneath your skin as he keeps his gaze on you for as long as he can — your hot, wet cunt sinking down on him finally forcing his eyes closed.
“Fuck, fuck— shit, don’t move just yet,” The words pour from Steve’s mouth, his eyes screwed up and head thrown back. Your hands shift forward, planting on his chest and you give him a minute— revelling in the delicious stretch his cock gives you. Fuck, it never gets old.
You lean down and kiss the closest skin you can find, his collarbone. Steve smiles, eyes still closed. His hands shift off the sheets, trailing from your thighs, your hips, up your ticklish sides, until he finds your face. His thumbs stroke over your cheeks delicately and when he pulls you closer, you follow without hesitance.
He kisses your lips, soft and sweet, and then murmurs against them. “Take what you want, baby.”
A little whine creeps out your mouth at his words and your hips follow without thinking, beginning to rock gently. A dose of lust licks up your spine and you sigh prettily.
Steve’s face shudders, pleasure rippling across his features and his eyes slip shut. His mouth drops open a little bit, the smallest noise escaping, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His eyes crinkle open, watching you closely.
“Ye- yeah, that’s it.” Steve manages to murmur. His hands haven’t left your face, still gently holding either side as you roll your hips back, slow and sensual. “Good girl.”
A gasp pushes past your lips and this time when you rock back, it’s a little more desperate. Steve moans, voice drenched in desire, and his hands fall from your face to grip the sheets. You lean on his chest further, your thighs aching deliciously as you fuck yourself on his cock— up and down, faster and faster.
“Steve,” you mewl out. It’s instinct to reach for him, to call out for him and in response, you feel the buck of his hips, pressing him deeper within you. Steve whimpers.
“You got it, honey,” He assures, voice more and more breathy. “Doing so good.”
There’s a soft squelch as you work yourself down on him, a coil of pleasure beginning to tighten up in your tummy. You feel a fiery warmth beneath your skin that spikes with every movement you make.
One of Steve’s hands comes up to cover your own, holding it tight to his chest — right over his heart and he lets the other nudge your face back to facing him. You hadn’t realised how it had begun to tilt forward, lost in your own pleasure.
“Mhm, fu- fuck, that’s my girl,” Steve whispers. You shift up to change the angle and when you fuck back down, you moan loudly — Steve writhing beneath you to contain himself from fucking up into you. You, however, show him no mercy.
“God,” Steve whines loudly. His breathes are coming out with little whimpers now. “That’s—that’s it— just fuckin’ take what you need. Take it, take it from me, baby.”
Your cunt gushes and you whimper — and you do just that.
493 notes
·
View notes