#king!steve x y/n

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 1; made to break your heart — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader

summary: in which you see your ex making out with someone else leaving you with no choice but to fall right into the lap of his enemy, steve harrington. (wc: 5.2k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, or*l sx (receiving and giving oop), some good ol’ bj, drinking, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, they are both switches but idk if that counts??, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater, steve is an arrogant bastard, and hes got a big BIG di–heart. some lil’ eddie mention that u might miss if u blink!

authors note: i am kinda thinking a pt.2 of this IM open to all ideas, but i kinda am thinking of making it like a mini-series? and maybe introduce eddie in the second part, and then make part 3 steddie? mmmhmm? what do we think? my asks r open for all and any ideass anyways not proofread bc of my lazy ass. ignore any mistakes.

please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol 2 here

Booming music filled your ears, sweaty bodies swaying away from you but you couldn't care less.

Whispers from your back, collected gasps, and all you could do was watch. 

Fingertips clutched on your dress in fury, gaze unable to tear away from the scene playing out right in front of your eyes. 

Tina’s lips were locked onto Billy’s, you thought it was pretty soon to be swapping salivas considering it had been barely two days since he broke up with you. 

The red cup in your hand was almost smushed from the hardened impact of your fists, with a quick go, you downed it, ignoring Tommy and Carol’s cackles as they watched you. 

With a roll of your eyes, you were quick to turn away from them, ignoring your friends calling out for your name—you didn’t need this, you didn’t need to be pampered. You just needed a generous amount of drinks, and maybe someone to keep yourself busy with. 

Tina and her lame-ass party could go fuck themselves.

Billy was an asshole, no real surprise there. And you didn’t care, because the relationship had run its course, again. Tough shit. You were used to it. Another break up with him. 

You didn’t care about it, the only thing you cared about was him crossing the line, making out with another girl in front of everyone. 

Each break, the two of you fucked whoever you wanted to fuck, just to end up together again, drunkenly. But this time he made it everyone’s problem, and you couldn’t let him get away with that. 

The whispers, and the collective giggles every time you passed by were making your blood boil.

You couldn’t let that dipshit ruin your reputation, you weren’t going to pathetically pine over someone who could barely make you cum. And you weren’t going to let any of those gossiping assholes think otherwise. 

You stumble onto the porch with a string of curses leaving your pouty lips, quick to fish out a joint courtesy to that Munson kid, always providing you with the best weed, either free or cheap, depending on how much you adjusted your skirt or batted your lashes at him. 

Maybe, you should pay him a visit. For fucks sake, you’ve seen him play, and he could roll a joint blindfolded, he knew how to put those fingers to use.

You could just imagine the scorching look on Billy’s face, his velvety lips scrunched together, a sickening feeling sinking into his stomach, knowing that you fucked Eddie Munson, the guy he always went to get his weed from.

The idea of it brings a delicious smirk to your lips. But it wouldn’t be enough, no. You needed something more, something bigger. 

“Need a lighter, honey?” A coarse, smooth tone has your head cocking, the joint sitting on your lips rising with the impact. 

Steve fucking Harrington.

Falling right into your lap.

Billy would’ve flipped the fuck out if he knew. He always warned you about him, telling you that Harrington was off limits, no matter what. Well, until now. 

Your gaze locks with his, dangerous, filthy, and exactly where you want him. Before you can drag out the joint to answer him, he acts quicker, brushing his fingertips on your chin, almost tugging you closer to him, he licks his lips, wetting them with a chuckle.

With a gentle flicker of his lighter, the tip of the joint smolders, casting a warm glow to your face that accentuates the smirk curved on your lips. 

Your dress rides up your thighs when you straighten up, taking an inhale from the joint, you blow the smoke in his face without a care. He eyes each of your movements, the stupid grin sitting on his lips growing wider the more his eyes move up and down your body. You almost want to chuckle at how easy this is. 

But you also know Steve’s type, you have to make them chase you a little bit, give them a little thrill, before you finally give in. And you had already been doing that, for the longest time.

Always teasing him, but never giving in. Your hands always brushed past his bicep just enough to let him know you were interested, eyelashes always fluttered at him, teeth biting on your bottom lip as you checked him out. 

The little game had been fun, but you never plucked up the courage to fully give in to him, Billy would’ve lost his shit. Besides, you knew his type, and you didn’t want to be one of his other trophies. And you didn’t have to be, you just had to use him to get yourself off, and piss Billy off. The second you walked into a room with him, you knew the party would be buzzing with the gossip.

You had the perfect excuse, the perfect excuse to finally divulge your fantasies, all the cheerleaders always blabbered about him, calling him an ass, but an ass who knew how to properly use his fingers and that dangerous mouth.

Exactly what you fucking need.

You had been pent up enough for the months you were with Billy.

This would be a little reward. 

“All alone?” He was smug, he absolutely knew about the break-up and possibly saw Tina and Billy’s show, so he knew this was the perfect opportunity to have you in his palm. In a fucked up way, that made you want him more, the unspoken game grew more intense with that gaze of his, he had the same idea you did. The fucker was smooth. 

You nod curtly, not wanting to just fall into his lap. No matter how good he looked in those Levi’s jeans that cupped his ass perfectly. Why was he so fucking interesting to you? Arms all toned, face adorned with tiny moles, he almost seemed mystical. 

And oh god, his hair. That soft, perfectly layered chestnut brown locks, so effortlessly cool that you just wanted to run your hair through it, tugging at it the more his lips sucked on your clit.

God, the thought had your thighs pressing together uncomfortably. 

“A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be all alone at a party,” he pouted mockingly. “Where’s that boy toy of yours?” He tutted, hand dangerously planted on your back, ghosting over your hips. 

That elicited a giggle out of you, “Didn’t you hear all the rumors, pretty boy?” You leaned further, hand extending to offer him a huff. His attention was somewhere else though, eyes widening the more he admired you in that dress, showing off your curves in all the right way, tits almost busting out of your chest.

God, he had been waiting for this moment, an opportunity to have you, the second he fucking met you. But Billy got to you first.  

“We broke up.” That brought his attention back to you, a smirk played on his lips when he leaned into your hand, lips wrapping around the tip of the joint, he sucked on it but his dark amber eyes remained on you. 

With an inhale, “Good.” He mumbled, “knew that dipshit couldn’t handle someone like you.” 

“You need someone better take care of you…” he hummed, nose dipping closer to your features, “someone who knows how to handle all of this.” His hands were placed on your waist, traveling all over your body. 

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat, a whine leaving your lips with how forward he was being.

And shit, you understood the appeal, you always did, but this time, you were sure your hunger for him grew faster than you intended to. You were in his palm, and you were more than okay with it. 

“Yeah?” You teased with a giggle, head falling on his shoulder, brain getting fuzzier. 

“I can make you forget him.” He’s bold, and it has your thighs rubbing together.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember his name, or how to walk.” He’s so close to your ear, breath fanning against your breath as you almost shudder, but you play it off.

“You’re all talk, Harrington.” You licked your glossy lips, head slightly tilted to the side, teasing him just enough. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you’ve heard the rumors, and I know you want this as much as you do.” The cocky bastard licks his lips, and you want nothing more than to bite them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“The way you press your thighs together, that little whine you just did when I barely touched you… Tells me all I need to fuckin’ know.” He whispers, and you almost whine out when a sloppy kiss is planted on your neck, harsh and needy. 

“You’ll be screamin’ and beggin’ for me, angel.”

Your brows raise in interest. “That a promise?”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you a boyish grin.

“You’re on, King Steve.” 

It didn’t take the two of you long enough to find an empty bedroom, lips, and teeth clashing as soon as the door closed.

The wandering eyes of the party had followed you up until that point, so you knew as soon as the two of you left the room with your sexed-up looks, everyone would know.

And you would finally have a sweet release after months of Billy’s selfishness.

A win-win. 

You let his curious hands wander around your body, quick to almost rip off your dress, he wants to savor this moment, wants the image of your body engraved in his mind, stuck into the back of it just so he can fish it out whenever he can.

But he’s impatient, he’s waited for this. Wanted you longer than ever, and finally, you’re putty at his hands, ready to take whatever he’s going to give—or at least that’s what he thinks— And he’s feeling greedy. His mouth is pressed onto yours, sucking on your tongue before he lowers you down on the bed, you giggle softly when you sink into it, and Steve has never felt like this before, the hunger in his eyes ignites a spark of pleasure within you, quick to dampen your thighs with need. 

A shocked gasp escapes your lips once he unhooks your bra with his left hand. Oh, he’s good. “Pretty baby,” he murmurs before his mouth is latched onto your nipples. “Perfect fuckin’ tits,” He groans into your chest, hand toying with your lace panties, shaky breaths escape his lips as he earns more whines from you. 

You look ethereal, with your mouth hung open, teeth biting on your glossed-up lips, head thrown back. Just like he knew you’d be. 

The more he circles around your panties the more you feel that pent-up desire burning inside of you, all those orgasmless months with Billy, and Steve was going to elicit more with just a flick of his fingers than you ever had through the entire relationship. 

Maybe that’s why he always called you a bitch. 

“Steve,” your whines come out pathetically as he looks up at you, layered hair already disheveled and that goddamn smirk sitting on his pretty lips. 

“Already beggin’, honey?” He mocks with a grin, tugging on your nipple, all teeth and no mercy. His tongue is making its way further down, soft, wet strokes tickle your body. 

“Fuck off,” You spit at him, barely, words dying down your throat when he’s quick to rip away your lacy panties. His light honey eyes are so much darker now, head thrown back when he visually drinks in your glistening pussy.  

You look so fucking perfect, thighs spread apart, him between them, mouth hung open and ready to take all of him. He makes a mental image of it, burning it to the back of his mind. 

“C’mon sweetheart, let King Steve know what you want, what you really need.” His voice is smooth and coarse, fingertips circling around your clit harder the more you whine for him.

“Do you need my fingers, baby? My mouth?” You moan at that, audibly. It has him chuckling darkly once he realizes how depraved you really are, one touch from him and you’re already soaking his fingers, whining like a pretty little slut. 

If he knew how much you’d be such a good girl for him, he would’ve done this much sooner. Would’ve ruined your pretty little pussy for anyone else, Billy would’ve had no chance over him. 

“Has that asshole not been makin’ you cum?” It was more of a rhetorical question, but the way you shook your head with a pout, had him melting. He really had you and didn’t know how to take good care of you? What a fucking loser.

“Holy fuckin’ shit… not even with his mouth?” His eyes widened, he really didn’t think Billy would be that bad, everything was working to his advantage. 

“He- uh- he never…” You stammered, getting uncharacteristically embarrassed because it was, truly embarrassing. All those months with him, and half the time you faked it. Selfish prick.

“Never? Oh, baby…” He coos with a dangerous smirk, lip all pouty and mocking, “No wonder you were so desperate for me. You really needed this, huh?” He almost gave a chuckle, caressing your pussy with his middle finger, getting you all ready. 

“Jerk-” You want to curse out his cockiness, tell him you don’t need him. Keep him grounded, but the whines he’s pulling out of you are enough to make him grin like a Cheshire cat. 

Your breath gets shakier when his finger easies into your walls. “Sshh, relax, baby.” He coos. 

“I’ll make you feel so fuckin’ good, doll.” His fingers are slickly working their way in and out of you, filthy sounds mingling with your moans as his nose brushes over your clit, causing your hips to start rocking up to him. 

“Had this pretty little thing, and didn’t even know how to take care of it, hmm? What a waste,” He hummed sweetly, index finger thrusting in and out of your sloppy walls.

“If I had known you’d be this fuckin’ soaked, I would’ve done this much sooner,” he taunts, fingers curling inside of you, enjoying the way you gasp out and buck your hips for more. 

He dives in, pressing the flat of his tongue against your swollen lips, enjoying, fully tasting you. With a satisfied hum, he brings his eyes to meet yours, all fucked out, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, had this sweet pussy but never even tasted it… What a fuckin’ dumbass… I’ll give you what you deserve, baby…” 

He’s going to explode soon, if he doesn’t make you cum and then fuck you senseless. He can feel his balls draw up more and more, each time you whine, each time you plead for his name as a whisper. 

He flicks the tip meticulously, giving you attention everywhere and anywhere, just like he knew you’d like it. “You know, I usually would never do this on a first date,” He mocks, grinning all mouthy and you attempt to dive his mouth further into you, to shut his arrogant ass up, and that fucker resists, “But god, you’re an exception… just begging to be fucked, you deserve this honey, can’t be selfish with you.”

His licks are heavenly, sucking on your clit like a man possessed, and his name falls from your lips in such a filthy way that you don’t even care how pathetic you look anymore. You accept it, you let him take full control, trashing beneath him. 

“You like that, angel?” His words are muffled into your cunt, the pad of his thumb still circling around your entrance while he sucks on your clit. Your head sinks further into the softness of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, breaking apart with just his tongue. He moans into your soppy walls, sending a shock wave of pleasure to ripple through you. 

He doesn’t even need your words, the visual of you squirming underneath him is enough to have him all bricked up, you taste like the sweetest sin. Velvety walls so tight that it has him bucking his hips into the bed, desperate for some friction, he needs you. And he’s sure he never wanted someone this badly before. 

“So fuckin’ special, aren’t you? Such a desperate baby…” You can feel his bulge against your thigh, sitting prettily and throbbing against his boxers. You always heard how big he was, but fuck, you finally get to feel it, and it’s glorious. 

And he twitched in his boxers just from eating you out? God, he was fucking perfect.  

He dips his head just enough to muffle out a few more words, “I wanna taste you fully, angel. Want you to soak my tongue.” He dives in before you can reply, eliciting dirtier moans from you, alternating between his fingers and his tongue. 

He doesn’t care about anything else but you, he wants you panting for him, cumming all over his tongue while you scream his name. 

Your thighs start to shake once he pushes two fingers inside of you, gentle but rough enough to have you squirming and bucking your hips more into him, you’re at his mercy, and he loves how tight you are. Just the thought of your tight cunt milking his cock dry has his eyes rolling. 

“S-steve,” you breathe out roughly, enjoying how his tongue is licking up that sweet spot. “I know baby,” he taunts all cockily, admiring the way your thighs shake with need. You’re going to cum soon and that prick can feel it. 

“N-need to cum, please,” your pleading is unintentional, you just need a desperate release, and he’s so fucking good. 

“Cum for me, angel, be a good girl for me, yeah?” Your eyes squeeze shut at the praise, and he takes note of that, admiring the way you tighten around his tongue and fingers at the praise. 

His fingers are quick, making you scream out his name louder and louder. “That’s it pretty girl… cum for me.” Arrogant fuck, you wish to say, but the way he laps up your juices has you whining like a little slut. And his smirk grows wider, a wet patch forming on his boxers with how hard he’s straining them, pathetically needing to be inside of you. 

You tremble, trash, squirm beneath him, his touches and stripes of licks finally enough to have your stomach twisting, with final screams of “Steve!” and “F-fuck!” the coil inside of you snaps, orgasm overtaking you with such force that your eyes are glued shut.

A gush of sweetness trickles along Steve’s tastebuds, you taste so fucking good that it drives him even crazier, lapping up at your juices and not stopping until he’s sure you’ve collapsed under him. 

He’s grinning like crazy, lips all glossy with your juices, and he looks so fucking pretty like this. It makes you want to return the favor. 

So badly. And the need to know if the title Big Daddy Steve really suits him or not stirs your stomach, your core pooling with need. If it’s true, your mouth waters with the desire to have him, he looks delicious, and you know he’ll look much more yummy while he’s fucking your mouth, pretty praises leaving his pale rosy lips. 

The avoidant part of you screams at you to not do this, but your core is begging for more. 

Maybe, just maybe, you could return the favor but still toy with him, take control, and mess with his mind. 

Enough to have him begging, pleading for more from you. 

As if he can hear your dilemma, he drags you back in, wrapping his fist around your hair as he pulls you toward him and draws your bottom lip into his mouth, all teeth, sucking with an exaggerated hum, “Do you like the way you taste on my tongue?” He mutters against your ear, licking a stripe of your neck. 

Jesus, fuck. Now, you had to return the favor. 

“Tastes so sweet,” you giggle, you are going to suck him off, but you are going to lead the way now. A smirk gleams on your lips. Teasingly, your hands trace the edge of his boxers, enough to earn a rude whine from him as you squeeze him through the harsh fabric. 

You’re quick to yank his shirt off of him without a warning, and he’s quick to flaunt his well-muscled, heaving chest. 

Asshole. 

With a strong flip, you manage to straddle him, taking him by surprise while you grin at him, and to say Steve is intrigued would be an understatement, his cock twitches at your brow raise. “What are you doing, baby?” He still manages to be so cool that your thighs ache. 

“Returning the favor,” you shrug with a smirk, eliciting low grumbles from him when you lower yourself on his chest, leaving sloppy kisses, mouth tracing a trail that leads to his delicious v-line. 

You lift the elastic away from his waist, freeing his throbbing tip, the red tip slaps against his abdomen, and your brows pinch together in astonishment admiring it. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he was not all talk. 

King Steve, indeed.

You had to hand it down to those gossipy cheerleaders, they had described him to a t, perfect girth, slightly bent to the left, and big, really fucking big, you probably needed to use your hands along with your glossed lips to take all of him in. 

He chuckled at your expression, basking in the glory of your widened eyes, “Like what you see, angel?” Another taunt, but you ignore it with a smirk this time. Pooling saliva in your mouth, you spit on the angry tip, Steve hisses at the impact and watches with a low grumble once you wrap your palm around his shaft. 

He reveled in how perfectly your soft manicured fingers looked around his delicate bubblegum pink tip, attending to his every need.

Your warm fingers are working their way around his cock, coating his length with your spit as you tugged at it gently, causing his eyes to nearly roll back in his head.

He tries his best to swallow his groans, but his hips desperately jerk up at your hand, desperately fucking it, rendering you speechless.

“You like that, baby?” Your tone was teasing, and if he didn’t feel like he was about to explode he would’ve gripped your hair and fucked your mouth with such roughness that all that you would be thinking about would be his huge cock, punishing you for being such a tease, but he was the one wrapped around your finger now, literally.  

“S’big, Stevie,” you coyly batted your lashes at him, and a shuddered breath left your parted lips as you looked up at him between his thighs. 

He almost wept at the sight, shit shit shit, you were all of his dreams wrapped into one, and he could barely speak. Your palm easily glided down his length, saliva working as a lubricant as you teased him further. 

Your other palm was quick to cup his balls, massaging them and giving them a gentle tug, while your other hand still glided down his length, enjoying the way he struggled not to let out loud groans in your hold.

Without any other word, your head tilted down, quick to mouth the tip of his intense tip, it was almost hot to touch, waiting to be attended to, so needy. Just like him.

You swipe his tip, collecting his pearl of pre-cum gently. “Jesus f-fuck!” Pathetic coarse whines leave his parted lips, he lets you take control, eyes clenched tightly. 

You give his tip more kitten licks, trying to get your throat ready for his lengthy cock. “Just like that, honey,” He praises with his head thrown back, he avoids looking into your eyes, knowing that the fucked out look on your face as your pouty lips wrapped around his cock would be enough to have him spill down your throat in seconds.

And it would be a bit embarrassing for Steve, to lose his reputation to you in a matter of seconds.

“More…” He demands, but you ignore it while you continue your teasing sweet flicks on his tip, feeling him twitch around your tongue.  “Pretty girl,” He whines and jolts his pelvis for more, desperate and needy. Just where you want him.

“Mhmm?” You whine with your mouth full, it sends a rush of pleasure through him, “Suck it, baby,” he whines again, this time pained with need. Your greedy eyes smile up at him and he’s sure you have done something to him.

Because he never wanted to cum this bad before. He wants to wipe that smirk off your face while you gag on his cum, struggling to swallow all of it as it spills down your cheeks, glistening your breasts, ruining that gloss forever, and instead, you walk around with his semen all over your face and lips.

It pulls a twisted groan out of him, you make him feel so perverted and he can’t fucking help himself. You finally accept his pleas, and with one glorious tug, you finally wrap your lips around his cock, fully, getting teary-eyed each time you try to take more of his flesh.

Steve can’t help himself, his head is dipped down, and he immediately feels his balls ache at the visual of you, crystal tears staining your cheeks, and even then, that lewd look did not leave your eyes.

“F-fucking slut, just like that,” His groans are uncontrollable, hips bucking further into your mouth. You don’t let him yank you by your hair, just yet. You let your mouth adjust to him, sucking him deep and tight. 

“Such a good girl, suckin’ my cock with all she has, mmpf.” His praise has your core clenching, damn him. 

He admires your pouty lips fully wrapped around his flesh, sucking and hollowing your cheeks as you wail for him, “Shit, shit, baby, l-look so pretty with my cock down your throat, mmhmm…” He coos, words incoherent.

“Will look even prettier with my cum shooting down that throat, isn’t that right, angel?” You hummed in agreement, looking up at him with your dark, hooded gaze, an unintentional grin playing on your lips.

He mumbled a string of curses, praising you, worshipping you. You continued your stroke on his base harshly, working the head with your tongue, a new angle that had him go absolutely insane. 

“Mmmhmm, need your cum, Stevie.” You mumbled, momentarily letting your hand do all the work before you dove back in, taking his stiff cock deep in your throat, he had been struggling before, but your words were his last straw.

Because it was exactly what he fucking wanted, owning your mouth, and fucking it with ease. 

His palm turned into a fist the second he held your hair, yanking it down as he pushed you further down on his cock, enjoying the way it hit the back of your throat, you gagged around it, all teary and Steve’s head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Y-yes, yes, fuck!” 

“Gonna cum, baby, mmmpf, god-” He panted, his cock twitching more and more you sucked on him.

“Gonna fuckin’ s-shit-” He shuddered, thighs shaking while your throat continued to squeeze the tip of his cock, and once you gave his balls some more attention, he knew he was a goner. 

“Fuckin’ give i-it to you,” He barely let out when his eyes glued shut together, almost rolling to the back of his head when you gagged around his cock, with a glorious groan of “Fuuuuuck!” Steve came in your mouth, hips still bucking into your throat as a spurt of his warm load spilled down your throat, coating it nicely. 

You only let go of his softened cock with a ‘pop!’ sound once you made sure you sucked him dry, swallowing all of it while Steve watched you with such a dazzled look that it almost made you want to do more with him. But, no. This had been enough.

You enjoyed his salty taste in your mouth and the way his fingers and mouth worked inside of you. And that was enough for you. For now.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He grumbled a chuckle that had you grinning and winking at him. God, men really were easy. One blowjob and Steve was already looking at you like you were the most precious thing in his life. 

You had to go easy on him, tell him that you weren’t going to let him fuck you.

Because you got what you wanted, an orgasm, and the reputation of fucking “King Steve”, everyone would be gossiping about the two of you by now, it was a matter of time before that douchebag found out.

He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you were quick to dodge it, getting up from the softness of the bed with a groan while Steve curiously eyed you. 

His brows were quick to pinch together, watching the way you easily slipped your tight dress on your body while you admired yourself in the mirror. Rubbing your lips together to fix your gloss, fingertips cleaning over the smeared mascara running down your cheeks.

“W-what are you doing?” He inquired, his face quick to fall down. 

You shrugged nonchalantly, “I want to go dance,” brows then raised in excitement “Ooohh! Maybe I could get some more weed, have you seen Munson around?” You questioned, that lustful look still dancing in your eyes.

“Uhhh…” he stammered, still confused on what the fuck just happened. “Y-yeah I think-”

“Thank fuckin’ god!” You hummed with a giggle, rushing over to his side, sloppily planting a kiss on his cheek, all shiny and smeared with his juices.

You were halfway through the door when Steve’s protests stopped you. “Wait, wait, wait!” He straightened up, softened cock and all, his glistening chest was begging to be touched, but as you decided, not today.

“What the fuck? I thought-”

“What?” You asked cluelessly, brows raised. 

“We were just getting started, angel,” He tried, but his voice wasn’t as arrogant or confident as it was before, and it took you so much to not let your lips twitch into a smirk. 

One orgasm and he was already broken? Steve was fun to play with it.  

Your giggle at him would’ve felt mocking if you didn’t do it so prettily, Steve just watched in awe. 

The poor boy. 

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, would you?” You tilted your head with a pout. Oh, you were good, he had to give you that.

Because once he literally got a taste of you, he wasn’t going to stop. 

His lips kissed his teeth, it was surely hypocritical of him to think this was unfair since that’s what he always did to other girls. 

“But–”

“See you around, pretty boy,” you cooed, throwing a wink toward his way, and shutting the door with that. Leaving Steve all alone. 

He had never felt this way before. The way his cock twitched just the thought of you again had his mind flooding, you used him, gave him the best fucking head of his life, and then left. 

Maybe this game would’ve pissed him off if someone else did it to him, if it was any other girl he would’ve lost interest, thinking she was trying too fucking hard, but it was you.

And all it did was drive Steve crazier, and make the chase all the more fun, and Steve was nothing, if not persuasive. 

#steve harrington x reader #king!steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #king!steve harrington

[littlexdeaths]

strange love - s.h.

king steve harrington x loser fem reader

everybody wants to know, if we fucked on the bathroom sink…

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: underage drinking (everyone is 18+), mean!dom steve, steve is a major asshole, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, steve makes reader cry, some good ole’ angst

a/n: this is a reworking of my first steeb fic i ever wrote on my old account. i hope you enjoy xx. and thank you to @stveharringtn for looking this over and hyping me up. ily cherry 💕

based on strange love by halsey

word count: 2.4k

You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.

And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. The night would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm.

Despite all that you go anyway, your heart severely outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping it would capture his attention. But the male didn’t glance your way the entire night, and you felt utterly defeated.

Why you didn’t leave after an hour of being ignored is beyond you, a small part of you still holding out hope. Leaning against a wall in the hallway you watch with disdain as your classmates drunkenly grind on each other. It was one of the last parties of the summer before college classes started, and everyone seemed to be making the most of it.

Everyone except for you.

“This was a stupid idea,” you mumble to yourself, glancing down at your drink with a deep sigh. Swirling the now lukewarm beer around in your cup, no longer interested in people watching. Drunken laughter pulls you from your sulking, watching in utter annoyance as Tommy attempts a keg stand in the middle of the living room.

A large crowd has surrounded him, giving you the perfect opportunity to find Jonathan and leave.

However, feeling a piece of paper being slipped into your hand stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes searching for the source of the note. A familiar flutter starts in your lower belly as you catch sight of him, the male now halfway up the stairs. You quickly unravel the crumpled page to find a few words written in his messy script.

You immediately crumple the note in your palm, downing the rest of your beer before you make your way up to the second floor. Despite the large and somewhat confusing layout, you navigated the dark halls with ease. As you knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to be a one time thing. To get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. After finding him tangled in the sheets with Vicki Carmichael at a party quite similar to this one. All because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it stung, a bigger part of you was incredibly relieved.

Something never fully cliqued with him, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were very good friends, and played basketball together. So it seemed fitting to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, knowing you’d give it up to Steve and not him. But the truth is you’d always secretly had a thing for Steve for years.

That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.

Steve was more than happy to fulfill your wish, not knowing your motive behind it. But what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. Once he had a taste of you, he couldn’t get enough. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. However you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge now being thrown out the window.

Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you much preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so instead of arguing you went along with it. Agreeing to a secret friend with benefits relationship, despite knowing you’d want more. Feelings aside it didn’t stop you from hooking up with him multiple times a week, which brings you back to the present.

Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet.

But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. Where anyone could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening.

You found yourself bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs. Tugging his shirt over his head, not bothering to take off his jeans in his impatience to have you.

“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.” He growled in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your soaked heat.

The male is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his strong hands. Your own hand drifts between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and encircling it with your fingertips.

Glancing into the mirror in front of you, you watch his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticks to his forehead, no longer styled in the perfect swoop he had it in before you entered the bathroom. His dark eyes meet yours in the reflection, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he watches you intensely.

“Hm, look at how pathetic you look honey… letting me use you like a whore.” He grunts, leaning in closer and tugging on your earlobe with his teeth, “But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”

You find yourself nodding, unable to speak. Partially due to the hand still covering your mouth, but you knew even if it wasn't there it wouldn’t have made much difference. The male had fucked any logical thoughts from you at that point.

But you can’t deny the way your body reacts to his words, your walls tightening around him at the mere mention of belonging to him… and him alone. Something Steve doesn’t miss either.

“That’s cute baby…” he chuckles, letting his lips graze along the exposed skin of your throat. “Glad she knows exactly who she belongs to.”

Tears of pleasure blur your vision, mascara streaming freely down your cheeks. Your fucked out reflection stares back at you as he continues to pound into you from behind. Hooded eyes drift to gaze at him once more, seeing how his mouth falls open in a moan as you continue to pulse around his cock.

His sun kissed skin was beautifully flushed, his days spent as a lifeguard at Hawkin’s community pool were treating him extremely well. It made you want nothing more than to leave a trail of dark bruises along his freckled neck— effectively marking him as yours.

But you knew that couldn’t happen, he wouldn’t allow it. His reputation as the town’s local biggest player was far more important to him than you could ever be. At least that’s what he wanted you to believe.

You watch in awe as his head tilts back, exposing more of his throat to you. His adam’s apple bobs as he moans, fighting the urge to push him against the wall and taste the sweat that’s coating his skin in a glossy sheen.

Steve just looked so pretty like this, on the edge of release. While you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, continuing to rub your clit faster. You cry out against his hand, the whimper of his name now muffled by his palm. Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees almost buckling as he fucks into you harder.

“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do. it. again.” He growls lowly in your ear, dropping his hand away from your mouth.

Quickly knocking your own out of the way to continue rubbing your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he had you hurtling towards another one, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with acute precision.

Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, a cocky expression crosses over his features as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with both hands, biting down harshly on your lower lip to stop the scream that wants to escape your lungs.

In your euphoric state you don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes watch you possessively, pride filling his chest knowing he’s the only man who has ever seen you like this. The only man to ever make you feel this way, and he planned on keeping it that way. Selfish as it was.

The blissed out look on your face is the thing that finally breaks what little composure he had left. The male burying his face in the crook of your neck as he paints your inner walls with his release. Stilling his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you.

Steve’s secret way of marking you as his.

As both of you attempt to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carry on as if nothing happened. When Steve finally releases your hips, you grip tighter onto the counter to support yourself. Knowing your knees were far too wobbly to keep you upright. A soft whimper leaves your lips as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. In more ways than one.

The male is quick to tuck himself back into his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it makes your body feel hot. You let out a shaky breath, turning to face him as he finishes tucking his polo back into his levi’s.

“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?” Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his tousled locks.

The door closes softly, and that familiar feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by it at this point, as your little hookups always ended the same way.

With Steve thoroughly pleased with himself, and you all alone.

You can’t stop the moisture from flooding your vision, carefully sitting down on the edge of the tub. Gripping the hem of your dress in your fists as you ruin whatever makeup was still left behind. Shoulders shaking as silent sobs rack through your chest.

In that moment you made a promise to yourself, you wouldn’t let any man— especially someone like Steve fucking Harrington make you feel this way again. It wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it.

You continue to let the traitor tears fall for a while before returning to your feet. Glancing back in the mirror you barely recognized yourself, your usual bright eyes were dull, bloodshot and puffy. The little makeup you had done was now smeared across your cheeks. With a frustrated sigh you attempt to collect yourself before returning to the party.

Cleaning the black streaks from your face, adjusting your rumpled dress until you looked somewhat presentable. Taking a deep breath you finally leave the safety of the bathroom, descending the carpeted stairs on shaky legs. No one pays you any mind as you make your way back into the sea of people.

But what you find in the living room feels like a punch straight to the gut.

Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. His large hands that were previously gripping onto your hips were now splayed across her bare thighs. Inching higher and higher up as she tangles her fingers in his hair. You can only stand to watch for a moment longer before bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink.

Thankfully the room was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette who was sipping on a can of Pepsi. You don’t say anything to him, grabbing an open bottle of vodka off the counter and bringing the rim to your lips. Enjoying the familiar burn as you greedily gulp down the clear liquid at an alarming fast rate.

Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to grab the bottle from you. You quickly dodge him, shoving him away with a dirty look.

“Jonny stop! I’m having fun, see?” You roll your eyes before dramatically taking another large swig. Your best friend had seen you drink plenty of times before, but never like this. He knew you well enough to know there was clearly something wrong.

Before you can go back in for another drink he grips onto the base of the bottle, wrestling it from you with a grimace. Before slamming it back onto the counter, making you wince slightly at the sound of the impact.

“That’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”

His tone is stern, but laced with worry. You find yourself pouting in response, a small hiccup leaving you as he sighs. The only reason Jonathan was even here in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington.

But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid, “Fine dad… take me home then.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes at your childish behavior before wrapping his arm around your waist to help guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was definitely starting to take effect, as you stumbled alongside him. Now suddenly a lot more grateful for his help.

What you don’t notice in your tipsy state was a pair of honey eyes watching you both from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helps you out into the warm summer night.

#the freak writes 🫧 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #king!steve harrington #king!steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfic

[dearharriet]

I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼

summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.

word count: 1.4K

warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff

a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3

“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.

His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.

“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.

“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.

“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”

He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.

“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.

Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.

The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.

“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.

“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”

The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.

“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”

A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.

“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”

“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”

The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.

“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”

“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”

A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.

You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.

“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.

“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.

As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.

Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.

After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.

It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.

“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”

You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”

Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.

“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.

“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.

“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.

Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”

Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.

“Whoops.”

Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.

“You trust me too much,” he sighs.

It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.

“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.

“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.

“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.

“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.

Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.

A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.

When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.

You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.

“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.

“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”

Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.

“Aw, come on.”

You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.

+

thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve Harrington x you #steve Harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #Steve Harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve the hair harrington #stranger things #argyle #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #king steve

[astermath]

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter​ @stevenose​ 

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week. 

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin. 

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page. 

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head. 

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you. 

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response. 

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse. 

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in. 

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you. 

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?” 

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up. 

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses. 

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.” 

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was. 

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really. 

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him. 

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you. 

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.” 

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?” 

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier. 

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love. 

#aster writes stranger things #stevemath #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #king!steve x reader #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fan fic #steve harrington fic #steven harrington writing #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

[drudyslut]

— summary: you get trained and ruined by steve harrington. really no plot. just some filthy smut with daddy harrington🤪

— warnings: smut! 18+ dom!steve, innocent!inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, oral (male&fem receiving), unprotected sex, loss of virginity, praise kink, degrading, slight daddy/sir kink.

— note: this idea was requested by @wdsara48 & then @babygorewhore !!! so i’m writing it bc i love it and missed writing for stevie baby🥰 i hope y’all love it !! 🤍 also to add, i totally pictured season 1 stevie while writing this😮‍💨

❥ pretty, dumb thing — s.h

you’d never been touched by a man, you’d never even touched yourself. you were pure, innocent, wanting to save yourself for that right person.

with all your rules, and all of your self control, you never expected yourself to end up in this position. hips grinding against steve harrington’s clothed thigh, the most pathetic whimpers falling from your lips as he whispered the filthiest words into your ear.

“stevie.. ‘m so close..” you whine, his hands gripping at your hips tighter and pushing your core further into his thigh, a delicious pressure on your clit that has your toes curling.

steve breathes out a laugh, running one hand up your side and gripping tightly at one of your exposed tits, “gonna cum f’me? such a pretty, dumb thing huh? lettin’ me train you to be a good girl? to ruin this little innocence act?”

the band in your belly tightens, finally snapping after one more grind of your hips. you fall forward, head buried in the crook of his neck as you cry out his name, his hands on your hips helping you ride out your first ever orgasm.

steve slowly lifts you from his lap, dropping you onto his bed and pulling his shirt over his head. you sit yourself up onto your knees and watch him intently, nerves running on high as you think of all the things he had planned for you.

he moves his fingers down to the button on his jeans, quickly undoing it and moving to slide his zipper down. your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see his large cock pressed firmly against his thigh, his briefs not leaving much to the imagination.

a smirk works its way onto his face, his chocolate brown eyes finding yours, “like what you see baby? gonna be a good girl and suck daddy’s cock?”

saliva pools in your mouth, your bottom lip brought between your teeth as you nod your head slowly.

steve climbs onto the bed, his large hand wrapping around your throat as pushing your neck backward, forcing your head into an uncomfortable upward position. “words. you know i don’t like that nodding shit”

you stutter out a response, “y-yes sir”

he lets out a low groan at your response, the word ‘sir’ making his cock throb. he swiftly pulls his briefs down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free, already dripping with precum.

he releases your throat, both hands making their way to the back of your head and grasping at your hair tightly. you spit into your palm, timidly grasping at his cock, running it slowly up and down the soft skin.

steve shoves your head down, forcing your lips to lightly brush against the swollen head of his cock. precum coats your lips, your tongue swiping out to lick them clean. your eyes trail up to find steve’s face, “i- i’ve never…”

steve looks down at you, his eyes glazed over with lust and need. a slightly sincere look takes over his features, “right. ‘innocent girl’ and all. just wrap your lips around it, i’ll help you”

you quickly obey, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking on it lightly before pushing more of him into your mouth. steve lets out a low groan, a small “fuck” falling from his lips.

he tightens the grip in your hair, pushing your head all the way down until his tip kisses at the back of your throat, making you gag around him. he slowly pulls you back up his length before harshly slamming his hips forward again. tears begin to prick at your eyes, your brain short circuiting with each push and pull of his cock.

“go on, do it yourself. find a pace, no teeth. you can do it, gonna make you my own personal fucktoy by the end of the night”

you begin bobbing your head up and down his length at a slow and steady pace. steve keeps his fingers dug into your hair, helping you push his cock all the way down your throat. you begin gagging around him, drool running down the sides of your mouth and soaking steve’s balls.

you feel his hips stuttering, his dick twitching in your mouth. he lets out low and raspy moans, the grip he had on your hair now bruising as he harshly pulls you back, strings of spit being attached to his cock.

you gasp for air, a hand clutched to your chest as steve gazes down at you, “fuck, i can’t wait to cum down your pretty little throat, but for now, ‘m gonna go down on you, okay baby?”

“o-okay..” you say softly.

steve lightly pushes you back onto the bed, your tits bouncing slightly when your back hits the mattress. you instinctively clamp your legs shut, trying to hide yourself from him but his large palms grip at your thighs, forcing them back open.

“aht aht, stop trying to hide from me baby” he pauses, sucking in a sharp breath and running two fingers through your arousal soaked pussy, “such a fucking pretty pussy. so fucking wet, holy shit”

he sinks two fingers inside of you, pulling a high pitched squeal from you. he slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, dropping onto his stomach and flicking his tongue over your sensitive clit.

you begin whimpering out soft moans, the feel of his fingers massaging your inner walls as his tongue licked and flicked over your clit felt so good, like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life.

steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking at the bundle of nerves softly while he continued pushing his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you feel that new yet familiar feeling building inside you once more, your orgasm threatening to burst as steve continues working at your pussy with his lips and fingers.

he slowly pulls his fingers from you, lips releasing your clit with a pop, dragging his tongue through your folds, your juices coating his tongue.

steve laps at your core like a man starved, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit over and over, his tongue flicking over your clit and pushing you over the edge.

your hands fly into his perfect hair, fingertips digging into the soft brown locks and tugging harshly as your second orgasm of the day rushes through you, arousal soaking steve’s face as your legs shake.

steve pushes himself up and onto his knees, wiping your juices from his face with the back of his hand. he smirks down at your weak figure below him, letting a dark chuckle fall past his lips, “fuck, that was so goddamn hot”

he crawls on top of your body, arms caging you in. he rakes his fingertips up your side and to your face, his thumb lightly stroking at your cheek, head dipped down to your ear as he whispers, “almost done, ‘m gonna fuck you now, okay? gonna stretch this sweet pussy out, gonna have you only thinking of me after today”

he gives you no time to respond, his free hand now grasping at his cock and giving it a few slow pumps. he drags his swollen tip through your slick folds, pushing it inside of you slowly before pulling it back out. you whimper, too sensitive for anymore, but also craving the feel of his thick cock buried deep inside of you.

“d-daddy.. please” you whimper out, causing him to darkly chuckle.

“needy lil thing aren’t you sweetheart, don’t worry, daddy’s gonna take care of you”

he slowly pushes his head into you, making you whine out in pain. you press your palms firmly against his chest, fingers pulling at the hair as he slowly pushes more of his thick cock into you.

inch by inch steve fills you up, finally sinking the last inch inside. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his length, but you whimper, your hands flying to this shoulders, fingernails digging into his soft skin.

steve begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes flickering down to where the two of you connected, a smirk taking over his face when he sees you’ve already left a creamy ring of arousal and blood on his cock.

you loudly gasp, tears slipping past your eyes when he begins to slowly roll his hips, slowly thrusting himself in and out of your pussy. the pain finally subsides, pleasure taking over your entire body.

“f-faster daddy! please!”

steve’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip, his hips snapping faster, his swollen head repeatedly hitting at your gspot. your hips buck forward, meeting each of steve’s thrusts, “fuck you’re takin’ me so good baby, fuckin’ squeezin’ me so tight! god i knew you were a fuckin’ slut— shit!”

you wrap your arms around steve’s torso, legs wrapping around his hips and pulling him further into you, “wanna ride me baby? hmm? wanna learn how to bounce on daddy’s cock?”

you whimper out a pathetic “yes sir”, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as steve grins, flipping your bodies, making you straddle his waist. you gasp loudly, the new position making his cock push deep into your cunt, swollen head kissing at your gspot and making the band in your belly tighten again.

“s’close daddy! g-gonna cum!”

you fall forward, burying your face in steve’s neck as you roll your hips around his length.

you begin clenching around him repeatedly, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he begins bucking his hip upward, fucking himself into you. his hips begin stuttering, dick twitching inside of you, his thick, white ropes of cum painting your inner walls.

he continues thrusting up into you, trying to help you reach your final high of the night. a few more thrusts of his hips has you tumbling over the edge, the band snapping as you come undone around him, your arousal soaking your inner thighs and steve’s cock.

he helps you ride out your high, your body falling limp on top of him. you rake your fingers up and down his arms, your lips placing soft kisses up the length of his neck and jaw.

steve exhales deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist as he whispers in your ear, “y’know, that wasn’t bad kid, but i still have a lot to teach. you’re mine now”

STEVE TAGLIST: @rafeism @jjmaybankswifes-blog @moremaybank @unsaidjaelinrose @m-1234 @mel119g @softlilacarrest @fayerite @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @halflifejess @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @superlegend216 @digitaldiary111 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @buckyisveryhot @pradabambie

steve harrington masterlist | taglist form

#steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve smut #king steve #steve harrington brainrot

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the ravenous rupture

fused with the foe, chapter five

a/n: and that's it for fused with the foe! but don't you worry, our wonderful king and queen will return in both of the next instalments of the series ♡ (the release date for the next one is already up on the masterlist)

summary: “I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, love confession, crying, kissing, loss of virginity, semi-public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, dirty talk, oral, fingering, handjob, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, aftercare

word count: 3895

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

previous chapter | series masterlist

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

Raising yourself up onto your tip toes, your fingertip still didn’t even manage to graze the spine of the tome you were trying to reach, only the tall shelf it stood on. 

But just then, before you could turn to get a chair to balance on, an inked hand came into view and grasped the book for you. 

“The Biology of Soil: A Farmer’s Comprehensive Study of Dirt,” Barnes dryly read the title out loud, “sounds absolutely riveting.”

“Don’t mock,” you snatched the leatherbound tome out of the knight’s hand, “it is interesting!”

“Of course, it is, your majesty,” he bit down a chuckle, “my apologies.”

A soft laugh couldn’t help but bubble out of you as you exited the library, “you know, you remind me a lot of my brothers.”

Walking at your side, he shot you a squint, “is that a compliment?”

“Well, I meant it as so, but I guess it could also be interpreted as an insult, all depending on which brother.”

Sinking further back into the plush armchair, your eyes danced from star to star as they glinted back at you through the big library window. 

The full moon was so bright that you hadn’t needed to light a candle in order to make out the sentences in the open book that rested in your lap. 

But suddenly, the creak of the heavy double doors to the chamber found your ears and when you twisted your head to discover who it was, your frame immediately sprung up from your comfortable seat. The forgotten tome tumbled to the floor with a dull thump as the embroidered dressing gown you wore over your ivory chemise fluttered around your legs as you swiftly stood.

“Your majesty–, Steve, I mean, Steve,” you clumsily corrected yourself, “hi, hello.”

“Evening,” he simply smiled, slowing his stride as he watched you bend down to pick the hardback off the floor. 

Hugging the book to your chest, you blew out a breath, “what–, uh…” you eyed the loose linen shirt he had sloppily tugged into his trousers, “what are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged, “thought a boring novel might do the trick,” letting his fingertips kiss the ends of each bookcase as he neared you by the window, “what about you?”

“Yeah, I can’t sleep either,” a soft sigh flowed from your lips, “my mind just doesn’t seem to wanna settle down these days…”

A gentle furrow appeared to Steve’s brow, “what’s troubling you?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” you placed the book down on the round side table by the armchair. 

“If it’s keeping you up then it’s not nothing,” gripping the tall back of the chair, he rested against it as he gazed at your visage in the moonlight, “come on, you can talk to me.”

The knot in your chest tightened, “no, I can’t,” and you averted your gaze to the stone floor, “I really can’t…”

“Why?” 

“Because–…” clenching your jaw in an effort to keep tears at bay, you briefly shot him a glare as you snapped, “because I just can’t, alright?” squeezing your eyes shut, you quietly muttered just beneath your breath, “gods… how long will I have to wait…” 

Having apparently had better hearing than you’d thought, Steve then queried, “wait for what?”

Fluttering your eyes back open, you met his gaze and uttered sombrely, “…for it to pass…” feeling your heart thump painfully in your chest just from the mere sight of him. 

A low sigh slowly seeped out of his lungs before his unwavering gaze averted to the upholstery of the chair, “…I hope you know that I’ve grown to care for you a great deal. You’re a very dear friend,” he uttered with the utmost sincerity, “and as a dear friend, I wish for you nothing but the purest of happiness. I want you to experience all of the great and wonderful things that life has to offer,” his ocean eyes then drifted back up to catch yours, “don’t let our union hold you back for any of that.”

Sucking in a breath, you asked, “what do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to think we have to have a conventional marriage, gods know we haven’t so far,” he added with a tilt of his head, “so, I just wanted to convey to you that if you ever want to be with someone else, at any degree, then you have my full support to do so.” 

Averting your gaze, “…is that what you want?” you dug your nails into your opposite palm, “for us both to openly be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be lonely and depressed,” fragments of desperation resonated in his tone, “you’ve already experienced more than one lifetime of hardships and I really don’t want this to be another one. So, when you fall in love, please don’t hesitate. You of all people deserve to experience that.” 

“…I–…” a shaky breath escaped you, “I can’t–…”

“…you can’t?” he echoed in nearly a whisper. 

“I can’t because–…” lifting your gaze, the library around you grew more blurry by the second, “because I can’t stop thinking about you,” you revealed, “from the moment that I wake to even the dreams that possess me at night. I can not shake you from my thoughts no matter how hard I try,” as you blinked, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek, “Steve, I wish for you to experience those very joys you speak of just as fiercely. I just want you to be happy even if I’m not the source.”

Looking as if he was scarcely breathing at all, his gaze stayed fixed upon you as he uttered, “dove, why do you think I wish that for you?” your eyes grew wide at his confession, “I don’t wanna be with someone else when you are the one I want by my side,” his fingers faltered from the grip they had on the back of the armchair as his slow steps began to carry him closer to where you stood, “not just as my queen, but as my friend, as my conscience, as my judgement, as my heart,” his eyes glistened as he then declared, “I am yours, Y/n. I didn’t plan for it, I don’t even know when it happened or how, but I do know that it’s true.”

Closing the short distance that remained, you walked up and pulled him down as you began to rise up to your tip toes. As you crashed your lips against his, it didn’t take long before you felt his broad hands glide over your waist. 

Breaking the kiss, you retracted just enough to catch the beguiling look in his eye. The corners of his lips drew up dreamily just as yours did right before you dove back in.

As your fingers weaved in his beard, so did his tongue as it danced against your own, making you lightheaded as your feet began to shuffle back, though you didn’t realise that you’d even been moving till your spine crashed against a sturdy bookcase. 

Parting momentarily at the impact, a soft giggle swiftly followed your initial squeak the collision conjured. As his gentle chuckle echoed your own, Steve’s palm caressed down your features before he captured your lips once more. 

When the fire inside of you crackled and burned too hot for you to ignore, you pulled back, a glossy string of saliva still kept you connected a moment before you gasped, “Steve, I–… I–…”

Resting his palms over yours as they clutched the top of his tunic, he tilted his chin back further, “what?” creating enough of a distance between you to truly check in. 

But how you were going to ask of him what you desired remained a mystery, no matter how hard you scrambled your fuzzy mind. So instead, you wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists and slowly guided it lower. 

“Dove…” he sucked in a breath as his gaze shadowed the journey you were taking his touch on, “do you wanna–…” finding your eye, he asked you softly, “you sure you know what it is you’re asking for?” 

“Yes,” swiftly flowed out of you as you nodded dizzily, “I–… I know. I read the books, I read all of them, I know how it all works,” your rushed words conjured a lovely little chuckle from the royal, “I just–… please?” your hot breathed fanned across his features as he leaned back in close, “I–… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you…” with your fingers still enveloped around his wrist, his touch slowly began to take over and to move on its own, “fantasising about what you might be like…” unhurriedly ghosting up and down the curve of your waist, “about what your touch must feel like…” each time creeping closer and closer to where you wished for him to caress, “how it differs compared to my own…” till his teasing touch ended each fluttering swoop with feather-light grazes at both the swell of your tits, as well as the lower part of your abdomen, just before he actually reached anything real, through still leaving you utterly dazed. 

Leaning a forearm against the shelf behind you, he smirked, “…you think about me?” 

“Every night,” you dug your fingers in the fabric of your chemise and pleadingly began to hike it up, “sometimes the sun doesn’t even manage to set before I need a moment alone… all because of you.”

As he then captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his wandering hand dipped under your thin shift before you’d even raised the hem completely. When his touch found your buzzing pearl, a whimper slipped from your lungs and vibrated against his tongue as your grip on the fabric faltered and it dropped to hang around his wrist like a curtain.

“Is this how you dreamed about me touching you?” he gazed down at you, smiling at the way you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Mind melting to ooze, you bubbled, “yes–, but also–, oh!” your brows knit together as he switched to circle your clit harder, “a-also–”

“Also how?” you could hear your want reverberate off the palace walls as he touched you, “did you dream about me kissing you down here?” holding your gaze, Steve then sank to his knees before you. 

Your breaths came in ragged as you blinked down at him, “y-yes,” watching intently as he dipped his head under your gathered-up skirts. The sloppy pecks he then lavishly began to plant over your glistening petals felt like nothing you’d ever imagined, “oh, that’s–,” you let out a broken moan, “don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

Throwing your head back against the bookcase, Steve’s grip buried in your crumbled clothes as his soft tongue dragged through your desperation. 

Letting go of your chemise with one hand, it drifted down your hip. Enclosing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked down hard as his fingers joined to sweep through your mess, only parting from you for a breath, “gods, you taste so fucking good,” before he eased one digit inside your clenching cunt. 

You barely noticed that it was falling before the robe you wore slipped off your frame and tumbled to a puddle on the floor, leaving you with only the thin shift and the king’s hot kisses for warmth in the cold night. 

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you whimpered, reaching down to thread your fingers in his honied hair as a second finger sneaked in beside the other, fucking you gently with them. 

You nearly wiggled out of his grasp when his luscious laps unravelled you completely, but somehow the monarch managed to follow your every squirm till he softened his efforts and replaced them with a few soft pecks over your sensitive clit that made your whole form twitch.

Fluttering your eyes open, you met his gaze as he raised the back of his hand to wipe some of your juices from his beard. 

Breathlessly, you uttered, “get up,” and as he did, you didn’t waste any time before your eyes drifted from his tender stare, “take your shirt off.” 

With one hand, he reached back and tugged the tunic off of his head, swiftly letting it drop to the floor and join the fabric puddle already at your feet. 

For a moment, he didn’t give in on his urge to close the short distance between you, simply stood there and let your stare study him, learn the galaxy of his flesh, every little mark and scar that told the story of his past. 

With your eyes still glued to the burliness of his fuzzy chest, you uttered, “tell me again,” before lifting your gaze up to meet his, “tell me again so that I know this is real.”

Reaching out to grasp your right hand, he said, “it’s real,” stepping closer as he placed your ceremonially scarred palm over his heart, “I’m real, this is real,” his fingers on his own marked hand, which clasped over yours, gently brushed over your knuckles as he spoke, “I am yours,” he shifted again and closed the small gap between you, “I will always be yours till my dying breath.”

Sucking in a shaky breath, you watched as the moonlight glinted in the blue of his eyes, making them look like the sea on a stormy night. 

“I think my heart has belonged to you ever since the dragon attack,” you professed, “though it took me a while longer before I realised what it was, why you made me feel the way that you do,” you parted your fingers against his chest, “Steve,” and let his weave in with your own, “I love you.”

Using his hold as an advantage, Steve yanked you to him till your lips crashed against his. Letting your free hand wander across his warm skin, it swiftly came down to cup the palpable tent in his trousers.

“Fuck…” he groaned lowly as you offered him a light pet. 

As you shifted to fiddle after the buttons on the side of his breeches, even the aid of your other hand didn’t yield any success in undoing more than one of them. Swiftly coming to your rescue, you swore it only took him three seconds before they hung loose enough around his hips for his cock to spring free.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you glanced down at length which stood so proud it poked you in the stomach. If only you had the proper context to truly know how intimidated you should have been at the discovery of his fat girth. 

Hesitantly inching your fingers closer as you stared, you asked, “can I–…?”

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slowly brought your hand the rest of the way down, engulfing his own grasp around yours and gently showing you how to touch him. 

As a sinful curse flowed from Steve’s lips, his free hand drifted up to weave itself into your hair. 

“Will it hurt?” you watched how your fingers failed to meet on the other side of his girth. 

“I don’t know, I hope not,” his forehead rested against your own, “but if it does, then we just stop and figure something else out, okay?”

“Okay…” you hazily nodded. 

Feeling his fingers flex around your own, you saw precum glint at the bulbous tip. 

“It’s all for you, dove,” you felt him throb at your touch, “all because of you,” a desperate growl then seeped out of his lungs as he seized your lips in a fervent kiss, and the next thing you knew, the whole world fell out from under you as he scooped you up into his arms. When a shrill yelp escaped you, Steve simply readjusted his grip on you and said, “don’t worry, I’ve got you,” nipping gently at your neck, “I won’t let you fall.”

With your fingers still grasping his girth, the new position now had your pussy pressed dangerously close to it, so close that you couldn’t help but sweep the head of his cock through your soppy folds and drench him. Tapping your clit a few times, the instinctual drive of his hips triggered you to simply cup his length near and let him part your pretty petals and lather himself in your needy nectar. Each desperate thrust ended in an electric nudge at your pearl, rendering you to whimper shakily into the night. 

But then suddenly, in the fog of it all, the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside, purely because of just how wet and ready you were. 

“O-oh, fuck!” everything froze as you reeled at the staggering sensation, breathlessly digging your nails into his broad shoulders and leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

“Sorry,” he hastily panted, “you okay?”

“Uh–… uh-huh,” you nodded fuzzily, shutting your eyes a moment as you caught your breath. 

But then as your gaze fluttered open once more, you caught his stare and offered him a short, affirming nod, holding his eye as he slowly began to move. 

Your mouth hung agape as he shallowly fucked you, barely even giving you anything but still turning you into goo in his grasp. 

“Y-you’re so beautiful,” you whispered as you fluttered around him. 

Gliding you’re your palm up to his cheek, moans tumbled out of you both as he gently began to offer you more. Your legs couldn’t help but twitch in his grasp as he practically split you in half with the way he eased you down on his fat cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” his face crumbled up in a silent moan as you felt every detail of him slowly stretch you out, “gods, you’re so wet…”

And the next thing you knew, it wasn’t so slow and steady any longer, as the bookcase your spine was pressed against rattled at his efforts. 

You thought before that just the bulbous head of him was overwhelming, but to have that tip kiss desperately against the deepest part of you was something else entirely. You couldn’t speak, you couldn't think, you could barely even breathe, just go slack in his firm hold and feel him, not just right there, but fucking everywhere, that’s how stuffed you were. 

Steve’s strength wasn’t that novel to you these days, but to have him lift you up and sink you down on his cock, like you were just a leaf on the wind, still managed to amaze you. 

“F-fuck,” you blubbered as you tumbled over the edge once more, “oh, fuck!” accidentally knocking a few books down as one of your arms flailed for purchase. 

You barely registered the loud thud the crashing books emanated as your frame melted down into his hold. Your face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he breathlessly came to a halt, still embedded deep inside of your clenching cunt. 

The sound of his breaths directly in your ear helped to soothe your tingling senses as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head. 

Shifting his feet, Steve carried you the short distance over to the comfortable armchair you’d inhabited earlier. Carefully sitting down in it and keeping you in his lap, his arms silkily slid up your back and hugged you close. 

After persuading you to curl out of your hiding spot by planting soft pecks all over your face, you blinked down at him, bathed in the moonlight that gushed in from the tall window beside where you sat.

Gliding a hand around to your front, Steve gently tugged on the thin string at your neckline, undoing the bow, before he pulled the shoulders down your arms till you slid out of the sleeves and the top of the undergarment crumbled to gather at your waist with the rest of the fabric. 

As he pressed his lips to the peak of your tits, one of his palms accompanied the kisses. A soft whine flowed out of you as your hand slid down to where your bodies were still joined and played with your puffy pearl. 

Casting a glance down, he groaned, “yeah, rub that little clit for me,” and your hips intuitively began to rock gently. 

As you touched yourself, something else caught your attention as you slowly began to ride him. At the lower part of your stomach, you felt the dull bulge of his staggering size poke your palm steadily to the rhythm of your gentle efforts.

Letting your pebbly nipple escape from his lips with a pop, his gravelly timbre washed over you as you slowly rocked, “that’s it, fuck–,” his grip slid down to be firm on your ass, “that’s my girl.”

Abruptly, as if snapping out of a trance, you notice just how loud you both were being.

“Wait,” you shushed him though didn’t halt your hips motions, “we’re in the library, someone could hear us!”

“Then fucking let them hear us,” his fingers dug into your ass as he desperately took over and bounced you in his lap, manhandling you as he slammed you down on his cock hard enough for you to lose your breath, “no one would dare bother us, trust me.”

And before you knew it, your cunt clamped down one last time around his cock, hard enough to halt his efforts and milk him of all of his worth. 

Weakly letting his dick slip out, your skin was practically glued to his as you plastered yourselves to each other and you sensed his hot load slowly leaked out of your sensitive hole. 

As you listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal and your heavy lids fought to stay open, a thought entered your mind. 

“Hey, Steve?”

Shifting his arms around you, his soft hum washed over you, “hm?”

Keeping your voice low, you shared, “I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight…” but to your surprise, a gentle chuckle then rumbled in his chest, “what?” you lifted your head and blinked up at him, “why are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just­­–,” he smiled, gazing down at you as if Zondür himself had divinely created you especially for him, “you really think I’d let you skip off to your room alone after all of that, like it never even happened?” 

Huffing out a short giggle, you lowered your glance, “well, when you put it like that…”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “if you want me to sleep beside you, I will,” rising from his comfortable seat, he readjusted his grip on you, twisting you to him as he hooked an arm behind your knees and at your back. As he carried you close, he began to lumber out of the library and down the hallway, concurring the short distance to where your chambers lied, “my queen, I would love nothing more for the rest of my days than to fall asleep with your head on my chest and wake up to your softness arching against me…”

Flexing your fingers around his neck, you raised yourself up enough to capture his lips in a tender kiss one last time just as he kicked your bedroom door shut behind you both.

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #king!steve rogers #chris evans smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans au #captain america smut

[the-case-book-of-fanfiction]

Bob Seger

Ship: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Is there a handbook for what to do when your crush walks into your store to buy a gift for his girlfriend? There should be!

Word Count: 5,432 words

Warnings: Stancy, Steve being deeply in love and then getting his heart broken, brief mention of Steve's asshole dad, pining reader, hurt/comfort, Tommy & Carol, language, innuendo

Note: Inspired in part by Steve's rendition of Old Time Rock & Roll.

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

Nancy hadn't been herself, not since Barb disappeared, and her mood had only been getting worse every day. Steve could feel her retreating into herself, hiding from the world and from herself and from him. He could feel Tommy and Carol getting progressively more frustrated with her (and with him for putting up with it) with every passing day.

And it's not like Steve blamed Nancy. Her best friend had gone missing while Nancy hung out with people Barb wasn't the biggest fan of. And, to rub salt in an open wound, Nancy had been having sex with Steve while Barb disappeared.

Steve felt a little guilty, to say the least. He'd had the thought of If I hadn't wanted to sleep with Nancy so bad, she would have gone home with Barb and they'd both be safe. But after a while, he wasn't so sure about that. The longer he thought about it, the more he became convinced that if Nancy had gone with Barb, they both would have gone missing.

Whether it was through his own guilt or because he wanted to make Nancy feel better, he wasn't quite sure, Steve found himself driving to the record store just off Main Street after school got out. He'd blocked out the noise of Tommy and Carol bickering, Tommy in the passenger seat and Carol leaning forward from the back seat, too busy trying to remember which bands had played from the radio the night he was studying at Nancy's house, and whether or not Nancy had actually liked them. He didn't want to screw up his little surprise by getting her music she wouldn't listen to—or a vinyl she already owned. Maybe he should have discreetly snooped through her pile of records before he'd made up his mind to do this...

Tommy sharply elbowed Steve in the ribs. Before Steve could snap at him, he said, "You're overthinking this, man. She's either gonna pretend to love it and not actually care, or she's just gonna not care."

Behind them, Carol giggled. It sounded far more sinister than it should have.

Steve glared at him for a second before he made the turn into the store's parking lot. "You're no help, you realize that?" He parked the car and turned to the two of them. "You're gonna stay here and wait, got it? And don't do anything stupid, I'll make you clean the back seat this time."

Carol grinned. "What if it's the passenger seat?"

"Or the driver's," Tommy added, leaning back to kiss Carol, before Steve could snap that the passenger's seat was Nancy's seat. Steve felt his throat constrict.

"Do not get it on in my fucking car," he warned, "or I'm never driving you anywhere ever again."

He got out, slamming the door behind him, and sent a warning glare back over his shoulder. Tommy flipped him off through the windshield. Beside Steve, an elderly woman gasped in offense and Steve winced.

"Sorry about him," he muttered, but the woman was already scurrying off into her own vehicle. Steve sighed and pushed open the front door to the record shop.

A little bell above the door chimed once as he swung the door open, and then again as it closed behind him. Steve had only been in the store a handful of times, but he loved it more and more with every visit. The walls were plastered in old vinyls, displayed so that the name of each band was readable. No vinyl was the same color, some of them blue, some red, some multicolor, but all of them were different. A small gold plaque designated the oldest vinyl the store had on the walls, which was a reddish Vocalion from 1922 and was positioned directly above the door.

Rows and rows of alphabetized vinyls spread throughout the store, which was bigger than it looked from the storefront. In the lefthand corner nearest the door, a cashier's desk was set up, though there was no employee behind it. A plastic sign read I'm in the back! I'll be back soon!

Steve headed for the aisles of vinyls, then recognized what was playing over the speakers—Bob Seger's Night Moves.

Humming as he flipped through the stacks, Steve didn't notice the door to the back open, or you walk out of it and back to your desk.

"Mmm, sweet summertime, summertime," Steve sang, keeping his voice low, still embarrassed by his voice, an instinct his father made sure he would never shake.

But you heard it, even with the volume of the radio. You looked up from the desk, gaze scanning the rows. You spotted the back of Steve's head and recognized him immediately. That hair was unmistakable.

Heat burned in your belly. Suddenly, you really wished your coworker hadn't gone home just ten minutes earlier, complaining of nausea. If she'd just stuck around a few more minutes...you wouldn't have to face your long-time crush who was absolutely not available, happily dating Nancy Wheeler and unlikely to leave her any time soon.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands. Sure, you'd liked him since middle school, long before he'd become part of the popular crowd and back when his hair was still a mess that hid his eyes from the world, and yes, you had two classes with him, but it's not like he'd know who you were, right? You'd keep relative anonymity and he would remain none the wiser of your long-standing admiration of him.

But then the song changed to The Fire Down Below and Steve was shimmying where he stood, singing the line "Here comes hot Nancy, she's steppin' right on time" with the hugest grin on his face.

You sighed. The school, your best friends, the entire senior year was right—Steve Harrington was down bad for Nancy Wheeler.

The tiniest bit of hope that he might one day notice you was dashed every time you heard that loving croon of his voice every time he sang Nancy's name.

This is why we don't get our hopes up, you told yourself, echoing a sentiment your best friend had drilled into you ever since Steve became the ladies' man that made him so popular in high school. Not that it erased the previous middle school years of drooling over Steve, back before anyone else had really considered him attractive.

You watched as Steve meticulously went through every record in the store, clearly searching for something specific. You normally would have gotten up and approached a customer taking this long, but it was Steve. You knew the instant you got up from your stool, your legs would give out underneath you. And if that didn't happen, you'd walk into a shelf on your way over to him. And if that didn't happen either, you'd start stuttering the moment you tried to talk to him. And if that didn't happen, you'd turn bright red and combust on the spot when he either asked for your help or turned you away.

Too stuck in your head, you didn't even realize the record had stopped playing until you heard Steve's singing stop. A pang went through you at the sound of silence—Steve's voice was almost more soothing than the music itself.

You turned around and dug through your pile of vinyls the store let you play until you found another Bob Seger—the album he'd released last year. Steve had been singing Bob Seger, and you desperately wanted him to keep singing.

You cleaned off the record before placing the needle down. A few bars into Even Now, you turned back around and squeaked, jumping in surprise.

Steve was standing at your desk, a pleasant but awkward smile on his face.

"Uh...hi," he said. "Sorry if I scared you."

You blinked at him and cleared your throat, hoping your voice didn't come out squeaky. "It's...it's fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Uh, please, I'm looking for—" He snapped his fingers. "You're in my chemistry class, aren't you?" You nodded, meekly adding that you were also in English together, and he beamed. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere!"

"Yeah, uh... Hi, Steve," you said. "You said you were looking for...?"

Steve shook himself out. "Oh, yeah, um... I'm trying to find a record for Nancy, my girlfriend, because I want to cheer her up after...everything. I'm sure you've heard about it."

The tiredness in his voice surprised you. But you nodded without bringing it up. "I have. How's she holding up?"

Steve sighed. "Not...fantastically. That's why I'm doing this, I want to get her something to take her mind off things."

You raised your brows. "So you decided on a record?"

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "I thought it would be something we could dance to, and that that might make her feel better."

Your heart squeezed. How are you so sweet? "Alright, makes sense. What does she like to listen to usually?"

Steve shut his eyes as if thinking for a moment, then said, "She likes ABBA and Michael Jackson, she has a Fleetwood Mac tape but only ever listens to Rhiannon, but she sings under her breath every time Journey comes on the radio, doesn't matter what song it is. She's got Madonna, Bowie, Blondie, and The Beatles already as tapes and vinyls, so I don't want to get her those."

You blinked at him. "You really do pay attention to everything, don't you?"

Steve smiled shyly. "I...I guess so, when it comes to Nancy."

You left the back of the desk, hoping you weren't visibly shaking too much. "Let's go find you a Journey vinyl, okay? They just released a new album a few months ago, I'm pretty sure we've got it on vinyl..."

Steve followed you to the J section and the two of you started flipping through, both of you softly singing along to Love's The Last To Know as you did.

Halfway through the song and completely through the Js section, you interrupted the song with a gasp.

"I know where it is! Wait here," you told him, and hurried into the back room. You dug through the most recently delivered box of records until you saw the familiar blue album cover of Frontiers, letting out a victory cry as you grabbed it.

Steve was leaning on the shelf, still singing "We lost our way and our love's the last to know" so mournfully you wondered what heartbreak he'd been through before.

"I got it!" you said, grinning and holding the record aloft.

Steve beamed. "Thanks! I really appreciate it. I know I was kind of...out of my depth for a bit there."

You shrugged. "Eh, that's nothing. I've had people come in here demanding records we don't carry from bands that only just released music." You rolled your eyes. "'No, sir, we don't carry Metallica, and even if we did, the album came out last week, so we wouldn't have it yet anyway!'"

Steve snorted with laughter, handing you cash to pay for the vinyl. "Let me guess, it was the Munson kid."

"The Munson kid," you confirmed.

"Thanks again," Steve said, though he didn't seem inclined to head out the door.

"Any time," you said, instantly regretting the words because if you saw Steve at your workplace more than this, you were going to have a heart attack, but you paired the words with a kind smile anyway.

"See you in class tomorrow," he said, stepping out the door and waving goodbye. You watched him go, putting the record in the back seat, snapping at Tommy and Carol in his car, and pulling out of the parking lot.

You let go a tense, nervous breath. The pain in your chest eased. Well, at least Steve knew of you now. And even if his dedication to Nancy was unfailing, at least you might get to talk to him now, even if it only worsened the ache in your heart.

~❊~

Steve skipped third block.

The entire school seemed to be talking about why—or at least, his entire gym class, who had told a story about Billy Hargrove getting in his face the entire basketball game, and then Nancy dragging him out of the class to "talk" about something. At first, everyone had assumed they were banging in the locker rooms, until somebody reminded them Nancy hadn't been in first block, and she never skipped, and that Steve usually drove her to school—but he hadn't missed first block. Then when he'd come back, upset and angry, from his talk with Nancy, people started to put a story together.

You weren't sure you wanted to believe the story, or the many versions of the story, that were floating around you chemistry class. It didn't line up with what you knew of Steve, or what you knew of his relationship with Nancy, most of which you heard straight from him.

But then again...

You shook yourself out of your head, your gaze straying back toward Steve's empty seat. You sighed, pulling your notebook toward you and copying down the notes on the board as neat as you could—undoubtedly you'd need to give them to Steve when he decided to come back to class.

But when your best friend came into the class, handing your teacher a doctor's note, her wide eyes already told you Steve wasn't coming back today.

She sat down beside you, hissing your name. You looked at her. "What? What's wrong?"

"Is there a reason I just saw Steve Harrington crying in his car?" she whispered to you.

Your eyes went huge. Whatever had happened between him and Nancy, it wasn't good. "Keep your voice down and don't tell anyone else about that," you said.

She flipped her notebook to a blank page and started writing. "You better fill me in on everything I missed today," she said.

"Obviously, but only once I know exactly what happened," you said. "Which means only once Steve tells me what happened. However long that takes."

~❊~

It became painfully clear that Steve didn't want to talk—to anyone. He snapped at anyone who tried to bring it up with him, and his mood was waspish. The situation was made worse by the rumors spread by Tommy and Carol—that Nancy had only been with Steve for his money and the sex; that she left because Steve wasn't good enough for her; that she was cheating on him with Jonathan.

You knew that the jibes about Jonathan hit Steve a little too close to home. The same rumor had circulated last year when Will and Barb went missing, but this time, you were almost positive they were true.

Nancy was entirely unbothered by the whole thing. Seeing her prance around with Jonathan, not caring that doing so was hurting Steve more than anything, made your blood boil.

On your way to the record store for another one of your slow closing shifts, a week after Steve skipped chem class, you saw the two of them walking together along the sidewalk. You rolled your eyes at them. You had once thought Nancy to be the luckiest girl in the world: smart, pretty, and dating the hottest man Hawkins had to offer. Now you were certain she was the most careless, throwing it all away for a mediocre man.

Steve's car was in the store's parking lot when you arrived. You parked next to him, looking over to find him in the driver's seat, staring into his lap.

You got out and knocked on his window. "Steve? You okay?" He looked up, sporting red-rimmed eyes. You could hear Bob Seger's Comin' Home playing quietly on his radio. "Oh, Steve..."

Steve got out of his car. Voice quiet and rough, he asked, "Can I hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," you said. "Whatever you need."

His lip trembled. "A...a hug?" His voice as meek and barely there. But you heard it and the request made your heart break. You enveloped him in a tight hug, letting him soften into your hold. You remained that way until Steve decided he was done, not caring how many of your classmates walked by, staring in wonder at Steve clinging to you, new gossip already burning on their tongues.

~❊~

A good day meant boppier music at the record store as soon as you started your shift and shoved your coworker from the mid-afternoon shift out the door. So you swapped out all the mellow music in the stack of records beside your record player with music with a good beat that you could dance to while you restocked and reshelved.

Not even half an hour into your shift, the Naked Eyes record spun into Always Something There To Remind Me. You turned up the volume as high as you could without destroying the speakers and being chewed out by your managers, singing along and dancing by yourself while you worked.

"Well, how can I forget you, girl? When there is always something there to remind me!" You finished stacking your records in the aisle and turned back for a new pile. "Always something there to remind me. I was born to love her, and I'll never be free, you'll always be a part of— Steve!" You careened into his chest, grateful you weren't holding anything, because it all would have dropped to the floor. Steve's arms looped around you, stopping you from falling. "Don't sneak up on me, you scared me!"

"The doorbell rung!"

"Well, I didn't hear it!" You finally looked up at him, heart beating wildly out of your chest at the feeling of his chest against yours, his arms around your waist. You realized he looked downright miserable. "What happened?"

He sighed. "Remember how I said I was gonna try and patch things up with Nance?"

"Yeah..."

Steve's lower lip started to tremble. "It...it didn't go well."

Your heart dropped to your feet. "Oh, Steve, I'm...I'm so sorry."

He sniffled. "It's, uh, it's over. She...she doesn't love me, has never loved me, I'm still bullshit, and she's been sleeping with Jonathan. So..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "It's over. Completely, totally, officially over."

"Steve," you whispered. "I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, lips trembling and eyes watering. "Change the song?" The words came out with a little hiccup and a laugh.

You realized what the song was about. "Oh! Yeah, sure, right—sorry. It's such an upbeat song in the actual music, I didn't even think about the words!" You untangled yourself from his arms to change the record. "What are you in the mood for?"

"Nothing romantic, please," he said, sitting down on your stool. "And, after you're done..."

You looked at him, sensing his hesitation. "Yeah?"

"Can I have another hug?"

You smiled at him, looping your arms around his back where he sat. He fell into you, burying his head in your shirt. "Of course, Steve."

You held onto Steve as tightly as he held onto you, praying he wouldn't notice the fast beat of your heart while he wallowed in his grief. It was a strange feeling, for Steve to be hiding from the world, form Nancy, from his broken heart in your arms, all while you harbored a horribly deep crush on him and a secret, guilty delight that it was over with Nancy.

"I just..." Steve huffed, clearly trying his best not to sob into your shirt. "I don't know where I went wrong. I don't know why I wasn't good enough."

Without really meaning to, you put your hand in Steve's hair. "Does there need to be a reason? Some people just aren't meant for each other, Steve."

Steve looked up at you with his red rimmed eyes, tears on his lash line. He hesitated a moment and then said, "If I tell you something...promise me you won't just...laugh at me."

Your heart broke for him. How many times had he told Tommy or Carol or, what the hell, even Nancy something, only to be laughed at, for him to ask that of you? "Of course I won't laugh at you, Steve." You squeezed his shoulder. "Why would I laugh at you?"

He didn't answer your question. "I know it sounds...ridiculous, but...I just—" He sighed. "I thought Nancy was the one. I've never been happier with a girl before, and she was honest, she was smart, she was determined, she had goals, she was nothing like the girls I was with before, and she made me feel alive! I thought for sure that I was... That I was maybe gonna spend the rest of my life with her."

You bit your lip. "There was no maybe about it, was there, Steve?"

He sighed, letting his head fall back into you. You muffled your grunt as he hid his face in your stomach, his arms sliding up your back and hold you closer to him. "No," he mumbled into the fabric of your shirt.

You smoothed your hand through his perfect hair and kissed the top of his head. You froze, hearing his tiny intake of breath. "Oh, I'm...I'm sorry, that was kind of...automatic, I guess?"

Steve peeked up at you and tugged you closer to his body until your feet hit the legs of your stool he was perched on. "It's okay. Um... Can you...keep doing that? With my hair?" Pink tinged his skin. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind," you whispered, rubbing your fingers across his scalp. He sighed, pushing into your touch. Heat bloomed across your body.

"Sorry," he whispered. "I know this is...weird. But, um, Nancy never... Never really touched me or— Or held me or anything, so..."

"You don't have to explain yourself," you whispered. "Not to me, not to anyone. Okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, slowly relaxing in your arms.

"I've got you, Steve," you assured him. "I've got you."

~❊~

Before he'd even pulled into the parking lot, Steve was mentally apologizing to you. You'd told him time and time again when he visited you while you were working that you enjoyed your slow closing shifts. It meant there was no one to bother you while you were in the middle of a restock, making you forget where you were; it meant there was no one to complain about the music you played, so you could listen to whatever you wanted; it meant your final hour was spent just closing up shop instead of shooing customers out the door—except for Steve, who had become a regular and always stayed until you left, sometimes to give you a ride home and other times just to have a friend around.

But today, he wasn't coming alone. His car was full to bursting with young children: Dustin, Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will, all of whom he'd been tasked with picking up from their after school activities for the day. He had tried to get them to go home quickly, but his attempts to rush them out of his car had led them to discover that he was seeing a girl, which they all took the wrong way, of course.

Sort of.

Now that Steve was prowling the world alone again, he'd realized his initial estimation of you—pretty, smiley, shy with new people but confident with your friends—was right, but it was a muted reality compared to how you really were. It was like he'd been looking at you with sunglasses covering his eyes this whole time. Now that those glasses were gone, the record shop girl had become more than just his best friend.

And he was really hoping the kids were not about to point that out.

As per usual, you were playing Bob Seger when Steve pushed the door open. He'd yet to figure out if you played Bob Seger so much when he came to visit because you loved Bob Seger, or if you had (correctly) pinned Steve as a fan.

(Not that Steve had ever told anyone he was a fan; he let them think the only reason he even knew about his music was because of Carol's obsession with Risky Business.)

You weren't at your desk like Steve had expected; you were carrying a huge stack of records in your arms, shelving them as you walked along the rows, singing along to Sunspot Baby without a care in the world.

"Sunspot baby," you sang. "She sure had a real good time."

"I looked in Miami, I looked in Negril," Steve joined in. You turned with a grin, heading back to your desk. "The closest I came was a month old bill."

You noticed the kids as you put down your stack. "You brought company today, I see."

Steve gave you a look while the kids were still behind him. You stifled a giggle. "Uh, yeah, these are the kids. Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, and Mike Wheeler."

Dustin walked straight up to your desk. "So you're the girl Steve talks about all the time?"

"All the time, huh?" you said, smiling in a way that suggested you were sure Dustin was exaggerating.

"Every time we see him," Mike groaned. You stared at the younger Wheeler in surprise.

"Oh, really? Is that so, Steve?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop his blush. "Sorry to interrupt your quiet shift. They wanted to stop in and grab some records."

"No we didn't—we just wanted to meet you," Lucas said. Steve's calm expression became painfully forced.

The young redhead snorted. "Speak for yourself." She looked up at you expectantly. "Do you have any David Bowie?"

You grinned. "I like you, you have good taste. Back side of the first row."

Max grinned and dragged Lucas with her.

You looked back at Steve. "Do you have enough room in your car for one more?"

"Need a ride when you leave?"

You nodded.

"Yeah, I've got room. I'll just make the kids rearrange."

You laughed. "You don't have to do that," you insisted.

Steve leaned across the counter. "Don't worry about it—I want to. I'd feel terrible if I left you to get home on your own."

You smiled at him, noticing Dustin nudging Mike and Will and pointing in your direction out of the corner of your eye.

~❊~

Somehow, the kids' presence lightened up the rest of your shift. Time passed quickly with them there, adventuring through the store and asking you question after question about the vinyls lining the walls.

You waved off Steve as he tried to get the kids to leave you alone. "They're fine, Steve. It's okay. You wanna help me get everything packed up? I've gotta lock up soon."

"Oh, yeah, sure." Steve took the vinyl off the record player and slipped it back into its case. He glanced over his shoulder and called to the kids, "Hey, guys! We're gonna head out soon."

You ran through your closing tasks as quickly as you could, anxious to head home for the night.

"Alright, everybody out. Got everything?" you asked, ushering the kids to the door and taking out the key. You set the alarm system for the building and locked the door behind you.

Steve put a hand on your back. Warmth bloomed through you from where he touched you. "You're all ready to go?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The kids opened the doors of Steve's car, jumping in quickly. Dustin made his way to the passenger's seat. Steve stopped him, gently shoving him toward the back seat with everyone else.

"Hey—move it, Henderson, she's got the passenger's seat."

You stared at Steve. "No, no, it's okay, he can—"

Steve shook his head, holding open the door for you. "Come on, it's fine, just..." He gestured into the car. The kids whispered and giggled at him. He sent them a glare and Dustin's annoyed face shifted into a gleeful smirk.

You got in the front seat, unaware of the glances being exchanged in the back or the glare Steve was giving them.

"Seat belts!" Steve said as he got into the driver's seat. You giggled at him as the kids groaned. You caught the way his face lit up when he looked at you, and butterflies tickled your insides.

Once the kids had listened and all were buckled, Steve pulled out of the parking lot and started his way through Hawkins, dropping them off one-by-one: Will first, on the outskirts of town, his mother waiting at the door; Max, who was relieved the Camaro wasn't in the driveway; Dustin next, his new cat sitting on the front step; Lucas, who was immediately met with his snarky young sister; Mike last, Nancy already at the door—saying goodbye to Jonathan.

You glanced at Steve. "You alright?"

Steve looked at you, releasing a deep sigh. "I'm okay," he said. "I...I'm doing better now."

"Good," you said. "You deserve it."

Steve gave you a curious look before he said, "Let's get you home, right?"

"Right."

And if Steve drove slower the whole way back to yours compared to driving the kids home, you weren't going to say anything.

When he got back to your house, Steve pulled into the driveway and sighed. "Well. Home sweet home," he said.

You looked at Steve with a smile. "Thanks for the ride home." You picked up the bag you had put on the ground. You got out, then stopped yourself before you could close the door. You crouched to look at him in the car. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?" Was it just your imagination, or did he sound nervous?

You took a deep breath. Now or never.

"I talk about you all the time, too."

For a moment, Steve processed your words. Then his eyes went wide. Hope bloomed on his slack-jawed face. "You..." He bit his lip, holding back a smile. "You mean that you..."

"Yes, Steve," you said, voice quiet. "Always have. Just ask my friends—they'll give away my secrets just as quickly as Dustin gave away yours." You drummed your fingers against the roof of his car. "Do with that what you will. It's up to you if...you want to even acknowledge it or not." You closed his door and started for your front door.

A door squeaked and then slammed shut moments later; running steps approached you.

"Wait!"

You turned as Steve's hand fell on your shoulder, pulling you close to him. He yanked your body close to his, his arms sliding around you, his hands gripping your shoulder blades. For a split second, you reveled in his hug, noticing the difference in it, relishing in the love in his arms instead of the misery.

Those few seconds became nothing as Steve pulled back. You gave a sound of protest, quickly squashed by Steve's lips.

Your heart had stopped beating, but was simultaneously pounding. You moved on instinct, looping your arms around his shoulders, yanking him down to you. Never once did your lips part from his as the two of you grappled to hold each other in the best way possible.

Thunder boomed overhead. You gasped, pulling apart.

"Was it supposed to storm?" you asked.

"I didn't think so," Steve said.

You kissed him again. Steve smiled into the kiss.

"You should get home before it pours," you whispered against his lips. But neither of you made any move to let go of each other.

Steve adjusted so that his head was against yours, his mouth at your temple. "See you tomorrow in class, then?"

You hummed. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I don't wanna leave."

You looked up at the sky, watching the already-grey skies grow darker as storm clouds rolled in. "We're going to get soaked if we stay out here, Steve."

Steve squeezed you tightly. "Tomorrow, then." He kissed your forehead again. "I'll see you tomorrow...sweetheart."

You beamed at the nickname while Steve blushed while he gave you the moniker.

"And to think," you whispered. "You'd known me all this time, but this? This happened all because you stopped in my store one day."

Steve hugged you tight to his chest. "I wish I'd noticed you before, sweetheart, really I do."

You kissed him. "Well, you've noticed me now." Light rain started, dusting Steve's hair until it sparkled. "Now go, before that pretty hair of yours gets ruined."

He grinned, brushing his hand through it. "I knew you liked my hair."

"Always have." You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Always will."

☞ ❊ ☜

Stranger Things // Steve Harrington

part 2? lmk!

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the S.H. taglist!} @ohatropa@nix-rose@live-the-fangirl-life

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve the hair harrington #king steve #season 1 steve #stranger things season 1 #nancy wheeler #stranger things au #stancy #stancy breakup #stancy angst #steve harrington x nancy wheeler #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve x y/n #joe keery #tommy and carol #carol stranger things #tommy h stranger things #record store #80s music #record store romance #poll fic #poll results #season 1 #season 2 #friends to lovers #mutual pining

[mimixmunson]

HIII JUST SAW UR LAST POST AND I WANTED TO REQUEST A BLURB >:3 <333 AND U WAS WONDERING IF I COULD GET A SUB READER X STEVE WHERE HE JUST WORSHIPS READERS PUSSY AND TITS AND JUST PRAISING HER 😫😫😫 LOVE UR WRITING BTW TEHE🤭 💗💗💗💗

Steve Harrington worships you. Steve Harrington x reader. Smut. Blurb.

tyty for your praise, angel! 🥹 I hope you enjoy!!

“Is that so?” Steve coos in response to your moans, his voice travelling through your body sending goosebumps down your chest and thighs. His tongue circling your sensitive nipple, his hand pinching the other in earnest. Twiddling with your pink buds with both hands, Steve’s mouth finds your neck. “Your so fucking pretty baby. So pretty for me.”

He sucks on the sweet spot between your collarbones and neck, nipping at it softly, grinding his teeth at the skin. “I can’t wait to taste you sweet girl.” Stevie grabs your cheeks and pulls you into his lips, his tongue massaging yours, fighting in the battle of who is more dominant, you lose. His tongue takes control and you curse under your breath as he bites your bottom lip before breaking the kiss.

He takes a handful of your breasts with both of his big calloused hands, before moving down to the warmth between your thighs. His tongue finds your clit almost immediately, licking a stripe from your folds up to it. He revels in your instant reaction to his touch, your thighs desperately trying to close but his body stands firmly in the way. He smirks, “sensitive are we?” Mumbling into your pussy, taking your clit into his mouth.

His lips tightening around you before he sucks softly. Teasingly kissing around your cunt, he nipples at your inner thighs playfully. “Wanna stay here forever.” He teases, nuzzling his face into your pussy, his nose nudging against your clit whilst his tongue explores your hole, kitty-licking inside. It’s sensitive and pleasurable all at once, he worships your body like it’s the last time he’ll ever be lucky enough to touch you.

Stevie’s tongue circles your clit repeatedly, his hands find yours and your fingers intertwine. Drumming your heels into the bed and bucking your hips up into him, he licks up and down your sensitive bud. Overwhelmed in pleasure, the sounds you make are borderline pornographic as the knot in your stomach begins to untie.

“Oh you’re so good for me angel.” As he speaks, your nails begin to leave crescent moon shapes into his palms, you moan his name and it only encourages him more. Taking your clit into his mouth once more and sucking like his life depended on it, the heat was too much to handle.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” Steve grunts into your pussy, his tongue continuing to work its magic. Your orgasm hit you and your hips rut up again. He doesn’t stop touching you, licking your core endlessly. Letting you feel the full effects of the aftershocks. You writhe around under the grip he has on your hips, not letting go of his girl.

“Good fucking girl.”

#stranger things #mine #steve harrington #stranger things au #steve harrington au #steve harrington imagine #steve x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n smut #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington blurbs #blurb #smut #Steve Harrington smut blurb #king steve #bi steve harrington #x female reader #requests #x reader #stevie harrington #steve harrington fic

[rowanswriting]

Thinking about Steve pounding into you from behind, his pointer finger hooked on the inside of your mouth, pulling uncomfortably at it as you drool all over yourself. There’s a vein protruding out in his forehead as he works his hips roughly against you, making your ass bounce with every thrust, calling you his good little fuck toy while you whine helplessly, “who’s fucking you this good honey?” He asks taking his finger out of your mouth, “k-king Steve.” You whisper a harsh slap landing across your ass as he wraps his other hand around your neck pulling you up so that your shoulders are pressed back against his chest. His dick is so deep inside of you that you feel like you can’t breathe. “M’sorry what was that? I couldn’t hear you, I said, who’s fucking you this good?” You whimper as he turns your head making you keep eye contact with him, “King Steve!” You cry out, pushing your ass back against him begging for him to continue fucking you. “Atta girl.” He growls out, pushing you back into the sheets and pounding into you even harder than before….

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve smut #Steve Harrington x you smut #Steve Harrington x fem!Reader smut #king!steve smut

[rustedhearts]

the old house (boxer!steve harrington x librarian fem!reader)

summary: steve's world is shaken when his father unexpectedly dies.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1995) ✶ record store

✶ the library

tags: death; mention of childhood abuse/trauma; daddy issues; manhandling; grumpy (for good reason) steve; ansgst; hurt/comfort; not edited so ignore any mistakes.

“i would rather not go back to the old house. there’s too many bad memories.”

— back to the old house, the smiths

california, september 1995

LOCAL ATTORNEY FOUND DECEASED IN OFFICE

Sept. 12, 1995

HAWKINS, INIDANA — Local attorney Richard “Rich” Harrington was found dead in his office Thursday evening.

Police dispatched to the office on Main St when his assistant called with concern for his well-being after the phone went unanswered for over 12 hours. When the door to the office was unlocked on arrival, his assistant, Ms. Betty Nesbourne, knew something was wrong.

Emergency services found Mr. Harrington at his desk. Police have confirmed the cause of death was a heart attack.

A well-respected attorney, Richard Harrington had a practice on Main St for 20 years before his death, and won countless cases for those in need in Hawkins. Friends and family recall him as a “kind and loving man.”

Mr. Harrington is survived by his wife, Catherine Harrington and son Steve.

Steve dropped the newspaper on the kitchen table with a sharp slap. His hand came to his eyes to soothe the ache that gathered there, knee bouncing against his chair. His fist rattled where it sat on the placemat next to a vitamin you set out for him. You handed him The Hawkin’s Post—still folded and in its sleeve from delivery—with a kiss on his cheek and a beautiful grin.

He never expected to find this when he opened it.

“Honey, have you seen my Nike hat? I don’t want the sun in my face today,” you called from the top of the stairs, readying yourself for the day.

Steve lifted his head, inhaling sharply. He cleared his throat and pushed his fist against his knee to stop it from jostling.

“Uh…closet probably, baby.”

Your feet scampered away to search, and Steve sighed. His eyes glazed over the letters that made up his father’s name on the inked paper before him. He knew nobody was eternal, that death was inevitable.

For some reason, he never prepared himself for this. For his useless father’s death.

And right now, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

He wanted to be angry. Hell, he should have been angry. He had every right after they had the balls to call someone like Richard Harrington “kind and loving.” Anyone that ever came into contact with him knew he was nothing of the sort.

Angry, too, that Steve never had the chance to tell his father how he truly felt about him. That he never had the opportunity to dole out his own form of punishment; the punishment Steve had to endure growing up. Because he was bigger, stronger, grown. He could’ve put his father on his ass in five minutes flat.

But every time he drove past his childhood house, all Steve wanted to do was get sick.

“Honey?”

Steve’s head snapped over toward you peeking around the doorway, donning his favorite jeans that sat a little low on the hips and a tight half shirt You found your Nike hat, and it now sat atop your head. Even how gorgeous you looked couldn’t quell Steve’s sudden confusions.

“Yeah.” Steve cleared his throat again, folding the newspaper again.

“You ready to go? We’re gonna be late if you still wanna stop for smoothies.”

“Comin’,” Steve mumbled, standing from the table.

He took the newspaper with him, staggering toward the bedroom with apparent soreness from a healing bruise. You glanced at the vitamin next to his coffee and rolled your eyes.

Upstairs, Steve shoved the newspaper into one of his shirt drawers and slammed it closed.

✶ ✶

"Everything okay?"

You smoothed your hand over the back of Steve's hair in the Cadillac, top down to let in the beating sun. The wind ruffled his long locks, tickling at his eyes covered with a pair of Ray Bans. He had one hand on the wheel and the other dangling over the door—normally, one parked itself in your lap to roam and massage. It wasn't like him to opt out of touching, even on event days.

"Yeah," Steve replied shortly, pumping the gas to send the car jolting through a barely-green light.

You let your hand rest on his back, skin hot through a thin t-shirt. "Okay...you sure?"

"Yep."

You took your hand away, diamond ring catching a glint of sun on its journey to your lap. You fingered the stone absentmindedly, your next "okay" small and quiet.

The low hum of tires over the road and the occasional click of the turn signal filled what was otherwise an empty car. Sirens, car horns, the whoosh of a gentle, morning breeze.

A convertible of women driving alongside in the opposite lane recognized Steve, and passed him a carful of ecstatic waves. He didn't even acknowledge them. You offered them a smile, but it wouldn't soothe the sting. You knew that disappointment all too well.

Steve zoomed the car up to the curb of your local smoothie bar, slamming the door hard when he got out. He yanked your door open and stepped aside, winding an arm around your shoulders as you stepped onto the street—but it all felt mechanical. You peered up at his expression, and it was entirely vacant. He was pressed up right against you, but he felt lightyears away.

Something was wrong—why didn't he just say so?

He ordered your smoothies and leaned back against an empty table near the wall. You tucked your hands into your back pockets, eyes on the tops of your white tennis shoes. The urge to ask once more what was wrong gnawed at you with need, but you were fearful of his eyes cutting down too hard again. You hadn't been afraid of Steve and his moods in quite a while.

Not since he put this ring on your finger last year.

Attention directed downwards, you were oblivious to the bustling crowds strolling in after morning workouts and vigorous runs—until an elbow swung a little too close to your face, a body knocked backwards by an unsuspecting and friendly shove.

A young boy, no more than eighteen, spun around with pink cheeks and a sheepish grin. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

You all but looked away, soaked in shame from what you knew was coming next. Steve pushed off the table behind you, a heavy paw shoved against the younger boy's chest. He teetered off balance, eyes wide on his attacker and the glare marking him victim.

Keeping a sharp eye on the boy, Steve grabbed at you by the bicep and tugged you into him. More mechanical pushes and pulls, more hardwired roughness he worked hard to outgrow. But whatever grieved him, whatever he sat and stewed on, sent him spiraling back into a troubled boy.

Worse than the roughness was the absence of words that accompanied it. The lack of commands or reassurances. Just silent glares and hard-set jaws that said all they needed to say.

Strawberry-banana smoothie freezing cold in your hand, you trailed after Steve with a lump in your throat.

At the arena, he plowed past Big bidding him good morning and stomped straight for the dressing room. The coach's eyes slid over to you, throwing up his hands.

"What crawled up his ass?"

You gave a tiny shrug. "Been like this all morning."

Big huffed, returning to his task of wiping down the ring for morning training. Steve had until two o'clock, then would return home to rest until the fight at eight. You hoped at some point he'd calm down.

"Better get it out of his system before tonight," Big grumbled, shaking his head.

Your silence was agreement, and you hurried to the dressing room to tell Steve just that. When you pushed the door open, you found him seated on the leather bench with his back to the door, staring at his poster on the wall.

Clamping the door closed, you tossed your smoothie into the trash bin and huffed. “What the hell is your problem today?”

He shed his shirt sometime before you came, and the bare muscles of his broad back constricted and flexed as he wound a roll of black tape slowly around his fist. His eyes were steadily fixed on the wall, boring into his own face printed in red. More mechanical movements. More empty thoughts.

“Steve.”

He stopped rolling, a ribbon of unfurled tape dangling over his thigh. In the attached bathroom, an echoed water drip plopped. People were arriving outside, filing in and out of the hall. Conversation hummed through the door.

“Dad died.”

When you drop on a roller coaster, all the adrenaline in your body festers in one spot. It all squirms and sizzles behind your navel, bringing the rest of your body to a cold chill. That very feeling overwhelmed your body now.

“W-what?”

Steve tore his eyes away from the wall and placed them on his hand. “Thursday. Heart attack...found 'im in his office."

Your feet moved on their own accord, taking you to Steve where you knew you needed to be. Your arms collapsed around him, face buried in his neck with a hiccuped sigh. His hands remained limply in his lap, eyes casting a ghostly glance upon the tops of his shoes.

"Oh, Steve," you whispered, mouth squished against his shoulder.

Steve had one photograph of his family in the house. Hidden in a photo album behind a page of high school memories: his father in a grey suit, his mother in a turquoise dress with shoulder pads, fourteen year old Steve wearing a sweater to hide the bruises on his arms. It was his father's birthday, and the only time, Steve said, he pretended to love Steve.

But still, scrawled in a fourteen year old boy's chicken scratch across the back:

Mom, Dad + Me

For a moment, you stood there breathing into him. Feeling the size of his own inhales and exhales expand your arms and close them in. Lips pressed to his warm flesh through crisp cotton, thinned a little with sweat. Feeling him pause every few moments, as though to check that he were still, in fact, breathing.

"Saw it..." Steve paused again, and then deflated with a humorless scoff. "...in the newspaper this morning."

You lifted your mouth from his shoulder, chin pressing down in its place. Your adjusted your arms to tighten around him, cheek leaning into his. He was so warm, so suddenly small.

It suddenly occurred to both of you in this moment that his mother had no way to contact him. Even if she wanted to call, she hadn't had his phone number since he turned eighteen.

He scribbled it on a torn piece of paper the day he moved out and tucked it in her drawer. For months, he waited for her call. It never came.

"Isn't that fuckin' ridiculous?" Steve shook his head, a sigh shot through his nose.

You rubbed you hand over his chest, eyes sinking shut. "Jesus, Steve."

Are you okay? was the obvious next line of questioning, but it seemed silly in this moment. Of course he wasn’t. Steve might not have loved his father, might not have known the person he’d become (or stayed) the past ten years, but that didn’t make this any less painful. In fact, it likely made it more painful. To have your father die without truly knowing the man.

"Should I talk to Mikey? See if they can push—"

"What? No," Steve huffed, head craning closer to yours. "M' gonna fight."

You recoiled enough to meet his eye, brows furrowed at the determination in his gaze. "Are you sure?”

Steve clasped a big, warm hand over your own. A gentle pat, a barely-pressed squeeze. His eyes turned away, and he stood to his feet.

“Gonna head out. Stay close, ‘kay?”

He staggered toward the door, and you whirled around. “Wait, Steve—“

The door clamped shut, and the buzz of florescent light was all that filled the quiet.

✶ ✶

He fought, just like he said he would. You sat erectly in your front row position, every breath inhaled held too long in your chest. Your nails pierced divots into your palm from tightly clenched fists. Your legs hadn’t stopped bouncing against the seat.

Every bloody blow had you wincing, each narrowly-dodged swing pulling a gasp. By the fourth round, Steve was staggering to his corner and spitting an alarming amount of blood into his bucket. His left brow split open again. It took the gentlest of taps to rip the skin that never healed correctly. He’d probably need stitches, like he always did.

Under Big’s words screaming at him and a cloth firmly pressed into his wound, Steve’s eyes were empty. Glazed over, mouth lolled open, shoulders slumped forward. It wasn’t his usual huffing, brutish, bull-like performance. It was instinctual, but free of thought.

Right now, you knew Steve wasn’t there. He was in his head, far away in a mess of thoughts. The blinding lights, the frenzied crowd, your own worried face watching him—none of it even registered to him.

The bell dinged, and back in he went. His punches held half the weight, half the power and drive. His dodges and sweeping side steps were stuttered and skipped. It was a dangerous game to play, and sickening to watch. You had every urge to run in front of his opponent and block the next swing, knowing Steve would let it hit him where it hurt.

But you sat where you were, nibbling on the skin around your nails, stamping your heel vigorously on the arena floor. It felt like waiting a lifetime just for that victory bell to ring.

It came out narrowly in Steve's favor. Sculpted arm a limp, weak thing in the referee's hold, drooling blood down his chest. His eyes found a spot on the floor and never left it.

Not until he trudged his way to the dressing room, and he found you seated on the bench. His eyes lifted from the ground and peered into you: blown-wide and still bleary, but alarmed in a harrowing way. A breath shuddered through his cheeks, escaping him with bloodied spittle that rolled down his chin.

They hadn't stitched him up yet. Boils of blood beaded along his cheek and temple, splattered across his chest. His gloves were looped together and strung around his neck. They were the first thing you removed when you stepped forward.

"Hey," you greeted softly. Steve followed your movements silently, blinks slow and staggered. "You did good, baby."

He swallowed, and it came with winced difficulty. A little wheezed, a little struggled where his nose bent from crushing force. He'd need it set again. It sat in a bulging, crimson aggravation in the center of his face. Everything about him was puffed up, bleeding, and pulsing with pain.

But he was the smallest he'd ever been.

"You gotta get stitched up, baby," you whispered, manicured thumb wiping through a smudge of blood on his cheek.

His hands smoothed over your hips, tongue darting out to lick over the split in his lip. "In a minute," he mumbled.

His steps forward sent you backward, guided blindly toward the bench again. You sat instantly, hands braced on his arms still buzzing with heat and adrenaline. You had only a moment to glaze over the state of him before his head fell forward against your chest.

"Oh," you gasped, warmed immediately by the damp heat of his head and the weight of him pressing into you. "Oh, hey, baby, it's okay."

Arms looped around his shoulders, you let your cheek fall atop his head, pushing past the salty, musky scent wafting from the heat of him. Comforting him was the only thing that mattered right now.

Steve's fists pressed into the bench, bookended on either side of your body. His cheek squished against the cotton of your dress, staining the fabric with the blood weeping from his severed flesh.

On the other side of the door, shoes squeaked over polished floors in a bustle to get somewhere. There was an order of things after a fight, necessities and niceties that needed to be carried out. Right now, as you smoothed your fingers through his dripping hair and massaged the knots in his back, you knew Steve wouldn't be doing any of them.

"He'll never know me," Steve mumbled into your skin.

You sighed, eyes sinking closed. The ache that festered in your chest, you knew, was no match for his.

"He didn't deserve to."

On the other side of the door, cameras waited to click Steve's photograph. Fans waited for autographs, his coach waited for a celebration, his manager waited to plead for another endorsement. It was a money-hungry, vain soulless scheme.

In this room, pressed against your familiar frame, Steve knew the only real thing in this world was right here under him.

#rolly! #boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington au #king steve #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington series #steve the hair harrington

[taintedcigs]

˚ 　　　 . ✧ 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄

vol 2; summer breeze — king!steve harrington x fgirl!reader x eddie munson

summary: in which some chaos ensues between the boys and billy, and one of the boys finally get what they want; you. (wc: 6.5k+)

warnings: smut smut smut, minors DNI, p in v, creampie, unprotected (wrap it up irl im so serious) kinda fist fight? billy gets punched, im sorry but billy gets punched a lot in my fics, protective steddie hehe, drgs, weed basically, no use of ‘y/n’, degrading, praises, LOTS OF PRAISES, nicknames! reader is kinda heartless basically a maneater and kinda of a mastermind, eddie is a cutiepie.

authors note: not proof-read ignore mistakes ! thank u @andvys for giving me the best ideas always and thank u for helping me! ily and hope u enjoy this mwah!!! also yall know mastermind by ts? and how its kinda supposed to be sarcastic? well i took that song too seriously and literally. listened to a lot of metal and this fic is their love child! enjoy !!

and please like + reblog + interact to support me ! thank u ily

read vol. 1 here

Fuzzy.

Exactly how your mind and body felt.

You didn’t expect to do that with Steve.

King Steve. You were just supposed to play with him.

He wasn’t supposed to make you feel like this.

And it wasn’t anything, it was purely physical. Or at least that’s what your mind forced you to think.

Because no one had ever made you cum like that before, no one ever attended to you like that before.

Pathetic. Really pathetic. You’ve fucked half the guys in Hawkins, yet one night with Steve, and he didn’t even fuck you, yet that’s all you could think about.

You sucked on the cigarette sitting between your lips, the feeling giving you a lewd reminder of earlier when you remembered how good he felt between your lips, sliding down your throat.

Shit shit shit. Shut the fuck up. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Want something stronger than that?” The voice belonged to the curly-haired boy you were looking everywhere for.

It felt like a fucked up horny deja vu. 

Turning around swiftly, the smoke formed around the air between you when you blew it in his face, making him grin. “Eddie!” Your tone gleeful, “Been looking everywhere for you!” Sweet. Sweet but so fucking dangerous. Eddie knew that about you.

He knew about the effect you had on everyone. I mean, he wasn’t complaining, he was right there in line with them. Just to have a glimpse of you.

He and Steve shared one thing in common; you.

Maybe that’s eventually what drew them closer, both boys begging for your attention in every way possible. Pathetic, but you were so tempting.

They teased each other about you, Eddie bragged about the countless times you batted your lashes at him, the countless times you twirled and giggled at him.

and Steve bragged about how you looked at him with your alluring eyes, or how you called him ‘baby’ that one time. 

Eddie was sure he had never seen Steve the way he did with you, because Steve usually never got hung up on one girl, it was simple for him, he’d fuck one and then move to another. But you always kept him on his toes. Something no one ever did before. So he always tried and tried, failing regardless. 

He didn’t blame him, he’d burn the world down if you asked him to, even though the only interactions he had with you were when you bought something from him, or the countless times you winked at him whenever he saw you around. God, that had him on his knees. 

So it was no surprise he almost melted when you said those magical words. You? Looking for him? 

“Me?” A rush of bubblegum pink is quick to rise to his cheeks. He can’t help himself, Steve was going to freak out when he found out how you were looking for Eddie. God, he was going to have fun with this. 

“Where’s Billy?” He added, trying to sound cool when he lit the freshly rolled joint sitting on his wetted lips. 

He was cute. Didn’t even know the rumors, and the blush on his cheeks weirdly had you need him. 

“We broke up,” you hummed, and a boyish grin sat on his lips immediately while he noted how you didn’t have a sad bone in your body, that jerk didn’t deserve you. “I’m just having fun now, you know?” You added with a smirk. 

You were going to be the death of him. He could be fun, he could be so fucking fun, he could make you feel fun you’ve never felt before. 

“Oh, yeah? With who, now?” Shit, shit, shit. That is not what he meant to say, he was an absolute fucking idiot. A grade one asshole.  

Your eyes widened when you tilted your head, “are you calling me a slut, Munson?” You snatched the joint from his lips, earning a whine from him as you kept your piercing eye contact. 

The pinkish color on his cheeks turned blood red, and you could see him almost fidgeting. Why did you find it so endearing? 

“N-no! No that’s not what I meant at all! You’re not a slut! I mean if you want to be you could be— I mean you’re not but—” His words tangled with each other adorably, and you couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle. 

“I’m just playing with you!” You playfully nudged his shoulder, adoring the way his grin came back instantly, you took a long drag from the joint before passing it back to him. “Don’t worry, baby.” 

Eddie almost lost it at that.

Suck it, Steve. She called him baby, too, and now they were fucking even. 

“I’m having fun with everyone that douchebag hates.” You muttered with a smirk. 

Eddie desperately needed to make Billy hate him, maybe he could rip him off the next time he brought from him, or maybe he could just… sucker punch him? 

“Steve was fun.” You giggled, remembering the way he was so pathetically begging for you to stay. And you had to admit he was good, the best you had in this messed up town. 

Eddie blinked quickly, struggling to process what you just said… You.. and.. Steve?

“Steve?” He almost stammered, face growing hot at what you were implying, did that little asshole actually manage to be with you? You?!? 

“Steve Harrington?” He repeated.

“Yeah,” you hummed, brows scrunching at his dumbfounded expression… What was going on? Was he… jealous?

 “You jealous, Munson?” You giggled with a smirk, brow raised and all bold. So upfront that it has Eddie stammering and blushing all over again. 

“N-no, uh— Steve is my friend is all.” He adds, taking a long drag from the joint to keep himself together, he has to look all confident because he wants to impress you. 

He just doesn’t know that you being all flustered is what draws your attention. Confident but still cute. The exact mix you need for Steve’s arrogance. And they’re friends? Fuck, just the thought of them together has you rubbing your thighs. 

“Oh!” You hum, “That’s funny because I was actually going to go for you, but Steve found me first.” You know the effect that will have on Eddie, you see it in the way he coughs while exhaling the smoke, wetting his lips while he tries to play it cool. 

Sadly, it’s all interrupted by the one and only. Billy fucking Hargrove. 

His hand roughly makes you turn to him before you can comprehend what’s happening, “Fucking Harrington, really?” He spat in your face, nostrils flaring with how angry he was, but all it did was make you want to laugh in his face—the audacity of this little boy. 

Eddie’s quicker than you to react, trying to push him away from you but Billy shakes off his hold. “Get away from her.” Eddie spits. Billy ignores him with a scoff, attention all on you. 

You hate the way your stomach flutters at Eddie being protective, what the fuck are these boys doing to you?

“You kiss Tina in front of everyone, and me fucking Harrington is the problem?”

“You fucked him?” Billy lets out through gritted teeth, technically, you didn’t but it seemed like Billy only thought the two of you kissed. 

Before you could answer he clenched his fists, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.” 

Shit. You really didn’t think this through, did you? 

A guilty feeling settled into your stomach, Steve didn’t deserve that. And he definitely didn’t deserve to get beaten up because of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed Billy by the arm to stop him from searching for Steve.

“D-don’t!” 

“Excuse me?” Billy said, pinching his brows together.

“Please don’t do anything to him.” Eddie watches everything unravel, taken aback by how willing you are to throw yourself under the bus for Steve. It makes his brows furrow and makes him almost get a glimpse of you, behind that cool facade, behind that whole act. It entices him more and more.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Billy scoffs, “You fuck him one time, and look how pathetic you get. No wonder everyone keeps calling you a slut—”

A loud thud resounds in your ears, you barely register what happened before you turn to see Steve shaking off his fist with a smirk on his face. “Don’t fucking call her that again.” 

Billy chuckles loudly at the impact, blood quickly dripping down his nose and an obvious red mark bruising his cheek. “My my, Harrington coming to defend his new little slut, huh?” 

And this time, another thud of a punch resonated from your side, and you audibly gasp. 

Eddie. 

These boys were going to be the death of you, appearing out of nowhere and then doing shit like this. 

They stood in front of you, arms crossed against their chest as they eyed Billy groaning on the ground, it wasn’t long before Tina came with her annoying shriek and a crowd formed around the four of you, the two boys were quick to drag you out of the party. 

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you, sweetheart?” Steve muttered in your ear with his lips twitched into a smirk. 

Cocky bastard. 

You gave him a slight smile. “Actually… I was looking for this one,” you hummed sweetly, hand gently nudging Eddie’s shoulder. A grin sat on his lips, he itched to elbow Steve, who just gave him a roll of his eyes. 

“But, thank you, both.” You give them a shy smile, it’s meaningful, and you’re grateful to have them protect you. 

“Anything for our special girl,” Steve winks.

“Want us to take you home?” Eddie interrupts, eyeing you, he can see that you’re a bit shaken up, even though you try to hide it. 

“No need, boys. Can walk home!” You giggle with a wink. 

“We insist.” Steve steps up, leaning into the car, hips jutted out. All slutty, and it’s tempting. But, no. 

You had fucked up enough today and gotten your feelings too involved. You couldn’t do it. 

You gave both of them a sloppy kiss on their cheek before you got on your feet, “My house is just around the corner.” 

“See you around, boys.” You winked one last time, turning back before they could say anything, walking away with a strut as you could almost feel their gaze burn your back. 

Both boys watched you with their jaws almost open, teeth biting onto their bottom lips with hope. They wanted—needed you. 

。°。°。°。°。°

“I’m tellin’ you dude, it was fuckin’ unreal. She was just so good,” Steve hummed into the ice cream he took a stripe of lick from.

Eddie grunted. “Jesus, fuck. Still can’t believe she let you even near her.” He glared daggers into him.

Steve grumbled a chuckle, nudging him. “Jealous much, Munson?” His lips curled into a boyish grin, face inches away from Eddie who was now stammering.

“C’mon, we can share, can’t we big boy?” Steve winked, enjoying the crimson red coloring the curly boy’s puffy cheeks.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” He hummed, sucking his cheeks with a ‘mmhmm’ sound as the flavors of the strawberry goodness flooded his senses.

They did have threesomes before, but this was different, this was you. It meant so much more to Eddie, and selfishly, he wanted you to himself first, too. 

“If you can even get her,” Steve smirked, knowing if it took him this long, Eddie would have to try for years.

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Eddie winked with a new-found confidence

“I’ll turn on the Munson charm.” He snapped his fingers together with a wicked grin, “and she’ll be beggin’ for me in no time.” 

Steve couldn’t even keep the throaty chuckle for a second before he patted Eddie on the back. “Good fuckin’ luck with that.” 

You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but how could you not when they were right fucking in front of you?!

And after Steve said, they had done threesomes before, your mouth watered just at the thought of both boys towering over you, attending to your every need, trying to dominate you but also pathetically begging for more. 

And if you framed everything correctly, they’d want to fuck you and would think they were the ones in charge, not knowing you were the mastermind behind all of it.

“Hi, boys!” You waved with a giggle, rushing to their side as your skirt rode up your thigh, both boys turning their bodies fully to meet you. 

Both of their Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of you—a graphic baby tee showing just enough of your skin, paired with the most perfect skirt Steve has ever seen, and Eddie’s eyes were almost glued to your chest, enjoying the way your breasts jiggled as you walked. 

You couldn’t hide your smirk at their widened eyes, men were so easy. 

They both stammered, and you wished you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much. But, you were. You had to have both of them. 

Letting your tongue swirl around the cone in your hand, you looked up at Eddie. “What flavor is that?” 

“Chocolate,” He replied quickly, “I love chocolate!” You exclaimed, and Eddie grew weak in his knees, gulping and letting his cock strain himself against his zipper. God, he felt like a fucking pervert. 

“Do you wanna try some?” He barely managed to speak clearly and you nodded quickly with a grin, Steve watching it all with a huff. 

Without giving him a chance to do anything, you wrapped your palm around his, giggling while you let the cold silkiness coat your tongue, lapping at it while your focus remained on Eddie’s dark eyes. 

He almost groaned at the sight; you knew that was your cue. “Tastes so delicious, Eds.” You hummed with an exaggerated sound, reveling in the way Eddie blinked quickly to register all of it. 

“Wanna try mine?” Steve’s silky, cocky voice had your attention shifting, you raised a single brow, shrugging. 

“Already tried that, thanks,” Your voice carries a bit of coldness but is still alluring enough to have Steve crave more from you. 

“I don’t think you tried all of it, sweetheart,” His voice still held that cool tone, tongue sticking out to lick a stripe from the cone wrapped around his palm, almost giving you a flashback as rosy lips framed the words so lewd that you had to do something. 

You were quick to tilt your head sideways, leaning in just enough to have your velvety lips against his, Eddie watched in awe, enjoying the way you sucked on Steve’s tongue, letting the sweet strawberry flavor explode your taste buds as exaggerated sounds left your lips as you pulled away, leaving Steve with nothing. 

“Mhmm, you’re right, Stevie,” You hummed, Steve’s face wearing a shock you hadn’t seen before. “But I think mine, tastes so much better…” You cooed facing Eddie, “Wouldn’t you agree, pretty boy?” You directed it at Steve, relishing the dumbfounded look on his face, while Eddie watched all of it with a contented sigh. 

He needed both of you. 

You needed both of them. 

And Steve would do anything for you, and for Eddie, even if he never would explicitly show it. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, bringing a wicked smirk to your face. Easy. 

Before you turned to leave, you faced Eddie, “Oh!” 

“Do you have any free time this afternoon?” If you gave him those eyes and that sweet tone, he’d give you all of his time in the world. 

“Uh-huh, of course.” He's sure his voice sounds so squeaky but you smile at him so sweetly that it melts away all his worries.

“Okay, do you mind if I drop by? I need something to relax, and to let a little bit of my steam off…” You winked at him, you couldn’t be more obvious, and Eddie almost went limp at your words, no need for the Munson charm after all. 

“S-sure!” He exclaimed, mouth curling into a wide grin. 

“See you later, boys.”

。°。°。°。°。°

“Really?” Eddie eyed you with a raise of his brows, getting more and more comfortable the further both of you inhaled from the rolled joint, your knee brushed against his, and his worries ghosted away with it. 

“You think Michael Myers is hot?”

“Yeah!” You nodded, “Too weird for you, Munson?” you nudged him playfully.

“No, no! It’s just… how? He has a mask on,”

With a shrug, “The mask is the appeal,” you giggle. 

He scrunches his brows, confused. “The mystery of the mask is what makes him sexy.” You shrug, and a soft ‘oh!’ escapes his lips. 

He’s quick to ash the joint to the skull resin ashtray, getting up in a rush, causing you to furrow your brows, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns with a grin, “getting a mask.” 

You giggle at that, “Oh, trust me, you don’t need a mask pretty boy.”

“W-what?” He blinks quickly to process all of it, bringing a wide smile to your lips as you almost drag him by the collar of his shirt. 

Eddie’s almost frozen, his mind explodes at how forward you’re being, pants getting tighter when he realizes how close you are to him. 

It’s finally happening and he can feel himself melt into you, he lets you stripe him of his control and his lips part slightly in surprise. 

Mind struggling to process if this is all real. With a giggle you take him by surprise when you tug your fingertips at his messy curls, twisting his head to the side as you crash your lips down to his. 

Dangerously sweet, addicting, and bold. And Eddie is putty in your hands.

“The prettiest lips,” you hum into his mouth. 

“Yeah?” He almost blushes a rosy color, and you can’t help but relish that feeling, letting it sink to your chest at how beautiful he looks when he’s so flushed, and you realize you need both of them. 

You need Steve’s cockiness, you need Eddie’s tentativeness at the same fucking time. 

And both of their dominance. 

You whimper needily, the feel and taste of his soft lips flood all over your body, making you ache. Holy shit, he’s fucking good. 

“F-fuck,” He whimpers as he pulls back, mind trying to register everything, but he’s quick to dive back in once he realizes he just stopped kissing you. 

A passionate, needy kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, as his hand roughly grabs your waist, pulling you further. You feel hot, skin buzzing at how demanding he is. 

Then he slowly moves from your lips to your jaw, down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over, and you can’t help but feel that warm slickness coating your thighs at how fucking needy he is for you. 

And you know exactly what you need to do to lure him in, entirely. 

“N-need you, Eds,” you whine into his lips, brows pinched together and Eddie’s already about to explode in his pants, you’re fucking perfect. 

“Where do you need me, angel?” He asks, all obedient and it has your core throbbing with need. 

Your thighs part slowly, skirt riding up more and more as you expose yourself to him, and Eddie’s teeth drag on his bottom lip at the sight. “Here,” nails rake on the surface of the couch beneath your legs, pussy fully on display. 

He almost groans at the sight, but no, he has to take control back again, he has to impress you. 

And he wants to savor this moment, enjoy you, fully. 

It gives him all the confidence he needs, with a slight push he has you on your back, sprawled on the couch, you’re surprised by the sudden change of control, but anticipation jumps in your insides, not knowing his next move is exciting and you let him enjoy it. 

His hands start to idly run everywhere on your body, all grabby and rough. You don’t know what to expect from him, and it certainly isn’t this, his hold on your hips, breasts, and thighs, enough to leave a mark, still gentle, still attentive but equally rough and it has you almost whining out. 

He’s perfect. 

“Needy baby,” He hums, planting a sloppy kiss on your neck. “What do you need… my fingers or my tongue?” 

You shamelessly spread your legs further, enjoying his weight on top of you, hard bulge pressing against your thigh, but you need more. “Both.” 

And your whiny answer is all he needs, his rough hands travel down to your inner thighs, almost toying as he drags his mouth all over you. Nibbling and biting all over your neck, shoulder, breasts, everywhere. 

He’s quick to drop down between your legs, and he groans at the sight of your puffy lips and dampened thighs, “Jesus Christ…” His teeth draw on his bottom lip.

“No panties?” 

“Nuh-uh,” you giggle shamelessly, and he’s almost fucking gone. The fabric of his pants so painfully harsh against his erected cock that he hisses. 

Your legs quiver when he traces a finger around your opening teasingly and his mouth is pressing kisses down your inner thigh, sloppy and filthy. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he hums into you. 

Your little whimpers and the sight of you so relaxed make Eddie a madman, he understands Steve’s non-stop blabbing about you the last few days, granted, he always knew you were perfect. 

But once he gets a taste of this, and a sight of you like this, he knows he can’t fucking quit, ever. 

“More.” You hiss out a breath as his fingertips gently circle your clit. It’s demanding, and Eddie’s amber gaze is dark as it meets yours. “Behave,” He warns, it’s electrifying, making you want to disobey more than anything, everything about him draws you in. 

With a smirk, you run your hand down his arms, meeting his fingertips with a gaze so dangerously lewd that Eddie’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head. “But I’m aching… I need so much more.” 

He groans, loudly. “So fucking needy, aren’t you? Only for me, huh?” 

He wants reassurance, he wants you to tell him he’s better than Steve. And you don’t, because you need both of them, so you just tease him enough, just so both of them could get the idea of proving themselves to you. 

You could just imagine them both taking turns, trying to prove to you which one would make you cum more, complementing each other, striping you out of your control, just for that one second, not knowing that you planned all of it.

It’s sick, a bit deranged, and stupid. But exactly what you need.

“Mhmm, only for you, baby.” 

Endearing words have him quick to push two fingers inside of you, still agonizingly slow, withdrawing a breath when he feels your slick walls. 

His fingers slowly go in and out of you, the suspenseful score from the movie almost mirrors your heartbeat, rising each time he gives you a grin, basking in your whines. 

“Look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he praises, enjoying how your lips part slightly, pretty whines coming out of it. He circles your clit at a slow pace, still. Relishing in the way his name slips past your mouth so desperately, almost begging. 

He presses a light kiss to your clit, and you shudder at the impact, gazing down at him, “You like the way I look between your pretty thighs?” He hums into your walls. 

“Yes,” You coo, and he doesn’t hesitate to dive in, parting your cunt with his thumb before his tongue is teasingly lapping up at you. 

It’s all so filthy and intimate that you immediately squeeze your eyes shut, his fingers, his tongue, it’s all too much but at the same time not enough. 

You need him, you need more from him. It’s just not enough. 

“Makin’ prettiest noises for me, such a good girl, aren’t ya?” You hum excitedly, all fucked out as you grind yourself on his mouth, you don’t know what it is, but you can’t help yourself, fingertips latched onto his curls, head thrown back, you feel like screaming. 

And he’s torturously slow, giving you everything you need but not fully everything, withdrawing just a little to have you go crazy. And it’s fucking working, his tongue works wonders inside of your walls, his name falling like a prayer from your lips. 

Not fucking enough. And it’s frustrating, to feel so on edge. 

You shouldn’t do this, you shouldn’t beg for more, but you can’t help it, it’s all hazy and you want more, it’s like you’ve been deprived, and he feels so fucking good. 

And maybe, you letting Eddie fuck you could drive Steve further, you could just imagine the scorched face on Steve’s look when he found out, and you want that mean side of him. You want him to compete for your attention, you want him to stripe you out of your control, for once in your fucking life.

You try to drag at his curls to feel his tongue more and more, flicking at your clit agonizingly slow but he slaps your hand away, warning you with his dark gaze. 

“I need more,” you pout, looking down at him all doe-eyed. 

“Need you to fuck me,” you whine with a hidden smirk, Eddie’s eyes flashing a hunger that has you all excited in your tummy.  

“Needy little slut,” he murmurs in your ear. “Steve wasn’t enough for you?” You love the newfound confidence in him, the sudden change in his tone, the darker his eyes get, the way he cooes has you dripping with need. 

You shake your head with a giggle, “Steve didn’t fuck me.” 

“What?” That brings an unintentional grin to his lips. You didn’t let Steve fuck you but you were going to let Eddie fuck you? Oh, he could just cum in his pants right then and there. 

You? Begging to be fucked by him? He was in heaven, and you were the prettiest angel. 

“No wonder, he can’t fucking shut up about you,” 

So your plan was working. 

“I don’t blame him, angel. I wouldn’t be able to quit you right after I tasted you either, so fucking perfect, hmm?” He gives you a dazzlingly addicting kiss, lips tasting like you and you hum into it. 

You try to pull him closer by his shirt, but he doesn’t let you, making you pout innocently at him. “I need you.” You don’t know how he has you like this, and you try to make your brain believe that this was your plan, but you wholeheartedly want this, you want him to fuck your brains out. You want him to make you cum until you physically can’t anymore. 

A possessive look sits on his face, gaze all dangerous and it has you wanting more, “You have me.” A wicked grin overturns on his lips, he’s quick to get rid of his clothes, almost ripping open your blouse. Fingertips brush over your skin with such passion that it almost burns.

He groans at the sight of your breasts, hands itching to grab them, mouth watering at the sight. “So.” A kiss on your breasts, “fucking”, a nibble, “perfect.” His hands grabbed everywhere, mind reveling in everything.

Still struggling to realize if this was all real or not. He was hooked, so fucking hooked. 

He couldn’t blame Steve for not shutting up about you, you were addicting. He was right, maybe the two of you could share. He wouldn’t be opposed to it at all, if there was one thing the three of you were good at, it was this. 

“That stays on.” He hums against your chest, fingers sliding over the tight little skirt you were wearing, flipping it over to your stomach but not taking it off.  

You were whining like a bitch in heat now, eagerly watching him take off his cock from his already wet boxers, patches of pre-cum had formed on it and you couldn’t help the delicious smirk on your face. 

With a painful groan, his cock slipped past his boxers, and your eyes widened at the sight. 

Salmon pink tip pearled with his pre-cum, looking so delicious that your mouth involuntarily opened at it, he was almost as big as Steve, only thicker, and slightly more curved to the left, perfect, just fucking perfect. 

You understood his cockiness when it came to this, he was absolutely packing and by the way he had been acting, you could tell he knew how to fucking use it. 

He leaned back slightly, still positioned between your thighs before he took his cock in his hand, with a dangerous gaze, he jerked at it, letting out a small groan with a sly smirk. 

You could feel your thighs dampening when he circled the angry tip over your clit. “That feels good, doesn’t it, angel?” Mocking, cruel, teasing. And you loved every fucking second of it. 

“Y-yeah,” You murmur, eyes squeezed shut, your thighs are almost shaking and he’s watching you with a smirk, it’s all too sensitive and everything he does gives you an electrifying pleasure that you haven’t felt before. 

Shutting up all the avoidant voices in your head that tell you you shouldn’t be doing this. Your thoughts and your body is consumed by pleasure as you hazily look down, his hand still on his cock while he drags it down through your folds. The tip of his pink slit parts you slightly, enjoying the way you’re gushing for him. 

“Jesus fucking Christ… look at this cunt… just soaked for me,” he growls and lines his throbbing cock at your entrance, a loud needy moan escapes your lips, making him gloat.

“Look at how greedy your pussy is, angel… practically pulling me in.” He teases, cock still dragging along your folds, and you are about to embarrassingly beg, before he finally drives his cock the rest of the way into your aching cunt, “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!” He groans loudly, his moans deliciously lewd. And your whines are mixed with his. 

His hands are everywhere, rough, and grabby, almost like they are marking you. His hips thrust further into you fucking all of your worries away. 

“Look how well you’re takin’ me, doll.” He hums, eagerly watching the way his cock disappears in and out of your soppy walls, mouth hanging open as curses slip past it at each of his movements. 

“Eddie…” You whimper, you can’t focus, you can’t even fucking think. Your brain is short-circuiting by how good everything he feels, how he is hitting that one spot and is stretching you wider and wider, and you are doing everything you can to adjust to his size. 

“What d’ya need, baby?” He coos mockingly.

He’s so much more cocky now, and he has earned it because he’s that good and you’re awfully pathetic for him. 

You want to speak, but it’s almost as if you’re unable to, it’s frustrating, and Eddie is loving every second of it. 

“Awww, so cock drunk that you can’t even speak, princess?” Another harsh thrust has you whining and squirming. 

“You need more, baby? Need me deeper inside of this tight little cunt?” He hums, cock slamming inside of you so agonizingly slow that it has you moaning for more, you’re simply fucked out and he’s too far gone. 

“Need me to stretch it out with my big cock?” You nod so quickly that your head almost falls off, and Eddie’s chuckle reverberates loudly, echoing in the room with your whimpers. 

“Greedy little slut.” He picks up his pace, and you’re fully lost in desire now, clinging to him as each of his thrusts pushes you closer and closer, he’s filling you to the brim and it nearly has you sobbing beneath him. 

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Fuckin’ soaked for me and this tight cunt was just made for my cock, wasn’t it?” He growls against your neck, licking a path from your collarbone to the shell of your ear, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

Your eyes are squeezed shut, head thrown back in full euphoria while he thrusts in and out of you, setting a hard, brutal pace. Teeth sucking into your shoulder to slow himself down, to stop the release he can feel building.

Incoherent babbles are all that leave your lips, you can feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach, “Y-yes, yes!” You whine, “I’m close, baby.” You lift your hips, trying to grind it against his cock to get more friction. 

It’s all filthy and desperate and it has Eddie’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. You’re so fucking perfect for him and you stick to his mind. 

This image of you, begging, his name falling from your swollen lips, all fucked out and spread for him. It’s doing the best fucking damage to his mind and he can’t get enough of you. 

“You gonna cum for me, honey? Wanna soak my cock?” His words are so lewd and it has you nodding like an idiot, you want him to cum with you, you need to feel him inside of you. Filling every fucking inch of you. 

He can feel your pussy clamping around him, it’s all glorious and he wants nothing more than to engrave this image of you to his brain. He wants Steve to know, how you were mewling for him. “Cum for me, angel.” He praises, slamming inside of you deeper than before, thrusts getting sloppier the more he sees how close you are. 

He wants nothing more than to last, but your whimpers, the way you take him in, your mouth hanging open, it’s all fucking too much, and he knows if you give him one more whine or one more filthy talk he’s going to explode. 

You writhe under him, so painfully good, but fucking impossible to hold yourself back once his thumb circles around your clit.

“W-want you to cum, too. Need to feel you i-inside.” You encourage him, and he groans at the idea of cumming together with you, balls drawing up and ready to fill your insides. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby,” He growls, slamming into you once, twice, thrice. “If you say shit like that I’m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, baby!” He can feel his cock filling you to the brim, hitting that sensitive spot one last fucking time and you know it’s over.

“Cum for me, pretty boy.” You cry out as you orgasm, pleasure shooting through your already hazy mind, and that’s all the encouragement Eddie needs before he chases his own release. 

He pounds into you one final time, deeper and harder, in a frenzy with how badly he needs to cum inside of you. With a few ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s, and ‘so f-fucking perfect’s he growls your name as he fills you up. Not slipping out until he’s sure you’re filled full of him. 

He collapses next to you with a sigh of breath, a sloppy kiss on your shoulder as he’s trying to register what the fuck just happened. 

You don’t give him a minute to breathe when you quickly get up, collecting your blouse as you ignore the confused look on his face. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready?” You answer with a giggle. 

“What for?” 

“To leave, pretty boy.”

“B-but we just-” 

He sounded so adorable, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall into a mess of feelings, and yet without knowing, you were already walking right into it. 

“I’m going to this thing at The Hideout today.” You murmured while fixing your skirt and hair in the mirror. Skirt creased and hair all chaotic. You thought you looked a fucking mess, but Eddie would argue that's the prettiest you looked.

Ruined by him.

“There’s this band—”

“Corroded Coffin?” Eddie replied quickly. 

“How did you know?” You turned with a raised brow, intrigued. 

“You’re looking at their lead singer, sweetheart.” He replied smugly, a grin sitting on his plump lips. 

“Oh my god!” You said in a mock screeching voice, “Can I please get your autograph, Mr. Rockstar?” You batted your eyelashes with a twirl of your hair, giggling when he narrowed his gaze at you. 

“You’re lucky, you’re so pretty, huh?” You shouldn’t have felt your cheeks heat at the comment because he just fucked your brains out, but shit was he smooth. Making you blush with one fucking compliment. You were way too deep into this, weren’t you?

“So you listened to our stuff?” He asked, with a beaming smile on his face, too cocky. And it killed you to tell him you didn’t when he had the most adorable look on his face. 

“No, but, this might be a great first listening experience.” You hummed, “So make sure you don’t suck, Mr. Rockstar.” Your hand turned the doorknob when you threw him a wink. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will rock your fuckin’ world," He returned the wink. “Again.” He said with a smug smile and a cool tone. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, “Oh, and make sure to invite Steve too.” You hummed nonchalantly as Eddie nodded, almost obediently.

He would do anything you asked him to. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted to go, because it was never any good to fuck the same guy twice, especially with someone like Steve who just slept around, or someone like Eddie who wore his heart on his sleeve. It would either end with your heart broken or theirs. Things always got too messy.

But both of them were just so… good. And you had this opportunity to have both of them.

How were you supposed to hold yourself back? 

。°。°。°。°。°

“No fucking way.” Steve said exasperatedly, shaking his head and denying what Eddie told him for the hundredth time. 

Eddie groaned, growing frustrated, “Yes fucking way, dude, ask her!” 

“Ask her what, whether you fucked her or not?” Steve narrowed his gaze when he turned to him, words laced with bitterness, if Eddie didn't know him better he'd say Steve was jealous. 

And he was.

“Yeah, because I did, and she fucking loved it.” 

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his face still wearing a shocked look that had Eddie grinning. 

His mind was almost spiraling, that insecurity he felt years ago almost returning and the image was quick to shatter. Why didn’t you want him? Why did you want Eddie? 

“C’mon, Stevie,” He elbowed Steve playfully, enjoying this. Steve gloated for days about you, for days. And now he had something bigger to tease him with.

Because you, who rejected every idiotic boy in this town, who even rejected 'King Steve' begged for Eddie. And he couldn't help but bask in that, especially to annoy Steve further. “Don’t be jealous, I thought you said we could share.” Eddie grinned like an idiot, brushing his shoulder against his teasingly.

And it was getting to Steve, the idea that you didn’t want him. Like you could see right through his King Steve bullshit. “Fuck you, man.” 

“So, what? You can have her, but I can’t?” He said with a little bitterness spilling out, eyeing Steve. 

“No, dude, just—” Steve sighed, “I can’t fucking get my mind off of her.” He mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Neither can I!”

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Desperate, pathetic, and horny. Ironically, that’s how you were feeling too, without knowing that’s exactly what the boys were feeling too. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered.” Steve looked at Eddie with a narrowed gaze.

“She’s coming to the show tonight,” Eddie hummed excitedly, “and she asked me to invite you too.”

Holy shit. That brought a saccharine smile on Steve’s face, it was stupid, to be so excited over something like this. But that meant you did want him. Stirring his stomach in the best and worst way possible, he wanted to shake it off, but he fucking couldn’t.

Jesus fucking Christ. What were you doing to him?

“Dude, do you realize what that means?” 

“What?” Eddie inquired. 

“Oh my sweet, sweet, Munson…” Steve tssked, “She wants both of us.”

“Oh, shit.” The realization was slow to hit Eddie, his mind still replaying what happened with you over and over again. “Wait you— uh, you’re okay with that?” Eddie asked, almost nervous. 

“Yeah, dude, why wouldn’t I be?” Steve shrugged carelessly, it wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but Eddie still felt nervous, because this time it did feel different, with both of you. 

“Besides we can’t keep our girl depraved now, can we?” 

#steve harrington x reader #king!steve x reader #eddie munson smut #steddie x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #eddie munson

[ghostlyfleur]

steve harrington x shy!reader

king steve falling for the shy, soft girl that is an introvert and a flustered mess and extremely clumsy and he just thinks she’s cute, okay?

but any effort he makes into becoming close to his dream girl — that is always nice to him, and always lends him a pen in class with a smile, and never judges him or calls him stupid — is brushed off with a cute blush and silence or a shy smile followed by her just walking away with a nervous wave, and he doesn’t get it.

steve knows he can flirt, he also knows she’s into him; she’s so obvious about it, what with her blushing and stuttering and trying to hide her pretty smile and her pretty face. the thing is, what steve doesn’t realize, is that she doesn’t take his interest seriously, i mean… he’s King Steve, right?

she thinks he’s just bored after breaking up and moving on from nancy wheeler, and it’s true, he has moved on, but she won’t believe he moved on because of her. she brushes it off as him just teasing her or joking or being naturally flirty or maybe he just wants to make her fall for him so he knows he still has that effect on girls, doesn’t believe he’d ever truly want her, at least not for anything more than a hook up, and that’s just not her. even though yes, she’s falling for him, but she won’t let herself believe he might feel the same. see, she’s never had romantic validation, no one has ever taken an interest in her or tried to pursue her, and yeah, the fact she’s quiet and closed off and a loner plays a part in it, but she’s also demiromantic/demisexual so she needs an emotional connection before romance or sex even becomes a possibility… and there’s just no one that has the patience for that… right? and if someone does, what if she doesn’t reciprocate?

but she likes steve. she does. so much. she’s just trying her hardest to protect herself so she won’t fall for his charms, but he won’t let her. because steve sees that she likes him back, so he’s all in. steve just thinks she’s so cute, so overwhelmingly kind, so sweet and soft and smiley, always giggling and petting stray animals and she always has flowers with her somewhere (from both her job at the flower shop and the copious amounts of flora in her home), on her hair or behind her ear or just carrying them around; they make her feel happy and safe and calm. ease her anxiety. steve loves her flower printed dresses that look so good on her, and her flowy skirts that show off her pretty legs and soft thighs he’s dying to grab at, and her cute sweaters he just knows are soft to the touch just like her, and her pretty mary jane shoes or converse that always match her outfits in color, coupled with her dainty rings and a cute daisy necklace she wears everyday that steve wants to add an ‘s’ pendant to desperately.

but she dodged his advances. every time. giggles as if he’s joking, walks away when she gets too flustered with a soft “gotta go, have a nice day, stevie”, like she doesn’t know his heart is about to burst out of his chest and that she’s the only one allowed to call him stevie at all. like she doesn’t see all the girls that are interested in steve look at her with jealousy because steve only looks at her. she’ll blush and hide her cheeks and roll her eyes playfully and steve just doesn’t know how to make her believe him! how to prove to her he’s serious, that he wants something serious. with her, and her only.

so steve keeps flirting, keeps asking her out, keeps being sweet and affectionate and caring and tender, keeps making her adorably flustered, keeps smirking and winking at her, keeps showing her his true self whenever he manages to keep her in his presence long enough before she scurries off, keeps ignoring any other girl that’s interested in him, saying he’s not interested and that he already has someone, and trying to make his baby finally give into him… until one day she breaks and just asks him to stop, tells him he won, she fell for it, he can stop now. and his sweet girl tears up, crybaby that she is, tells him he can stop trying to make her fall for him ‘cause she has and he wins, okay?! he can move on to the next girl and make her fall for him too. just to stop messing with her, it’s not fair. and it breaks steve’s heart, it’s painful. so he drops all of his walls and he confesses his love and she’s hesitant at first, not believing her dream guy could possibly want her back, but steve promises that if she gives him a chance he’ll prove to her she’s the only one he wants.

── harmo’s footnotes:

hi ♡ this particular daydream is very dear to me, so i truly hope you enjoy it. feel free to send some asks with further questions on this au and i’ll be more than happy to reply! maybe even write some small blurbs. i love you lots, mwah!

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. character dreams.

ghostlyfleur © — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, or translate.

#fairy writes #daydreamin’ #steve harrington (harmo’s version) #king steve #hopeless romantic!steve harrington #lovesick!steve harrington #flirty!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x shy!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington hc #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington bkurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington au #shy!reader #anxious!reader

[jomgiiu]

HEAT OF THE MOMENT

The king of Hawkins high, Steve Harrington asks you out on a date but not for the reason you think. After that night, you learn who the real Steve Harrington is.. or so you thought. 

paring: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

CW: ANGST ANGST ANGST, i guess bully!steve?, steve being a douchebag, king steve taking effect, swearing obviously, mentions of wounds/blood not to major. 

A/N: i wrote this one a whim, got carried away it’s not the best but i need feedback to see what i should do next with it lol. i liked writing season 1 steve, i made him meaner than in the actual show but ofc i hope you all dont mind! enjoy and reblog! (not proof read and poor writing oops)

Last night was the worst nights of your life, you got stood up by Steve Harrington. He'd asked you on a date during lunch and you obviously said yes. You and your friends were giggling and whispering about it all day, they gave you advice about what to do and say, what to wear, how to do your makeup, they seemed more excited than you. The moment you got home you got ready. He said he’d be there at 6 and it was already 3, so you had enough time to plan everything out. You put on your favorite record, pulled out your lucky socks, and got ready. The outfit you picked look like it came out of a magazine, so elegant and beautiful; Steve was definitely going to fall for you. At least that’s what you thought.

Sitting on the couch, you waited and waited and waited. 6 o’clock rolled around and the butterflies in your stomach would not stop.  

6:13. He's just running a bit late.  

6:28. Maybe he had car trouble?

6:41. Maybe he actually meant 7!

7:15. Or maybe he didn’t mean anything at all.  

7:35. You were nothing to him.  

Your parents didn’t get home from work until 8, so you decided to go up and change to save yourself the embarrassment of them asking about anything. Feeling like you came out of magazine just to feel like you were a thrown-out magazine because it’s the wrong issue. You went to sleep that night, crying over a stupid boy and a stupid date. It was stupid.  

-

What felt like forever, you finally got to your locker. Fumbling with the lock, you got it to open and put your things away, grabbing stuff for your classes.  Laughter was heard a few lockers down, glancing over it was Steve and his idiot friends. You sighed and shut your locker. You didn’t want to confront Steve but you had the right too. Confidently, you walked over to them but that instantly left when Carol whispered something to Steve, making him snicker. Your stomach felt like it was twisting and winding, you felt sick.  

“Hey, you!” Carol greeted; her words were sweet but was sour coming out of her mouth. You gave her a small wave and went to focus on Steve. He had on a blue polo, Calvin Klein jeans and a dark windbreaker complementing his outfit. His hair was perfect as always, he spent more time looking at himself than he did anyone else.  

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Um,” the words were stuck in your throat. His stare was burning you. Either you chicken out or you confront him.

“Where were you last night?” the words came out in almost a whisper.  

“Huh? What was that?” he put his hand behind his ear, leaning down a bit to you. “What did you say?” Steve’s teasing was cruel, he has a smirk planted on his face waiting for you respond.

“I think our friend here asked about your date last night.” Tommy commented.  

“Ah.” Steve moved his hand away from his ear and resting it in his jean pocket. “Listen, I was planning on going but I got wrapped up in somethings. I was going to call. Promise.” The sympathy in his voice was forced.  

“Yeah, Steve was too busy studying anatomy with Nancy.” Tommy teased, making Carol slap him on the chest playfully. Steve smirked and looked at you.

“Tom, pay up man.”

What?

You tried to process what was going on. You watched Tommy give Steve a $20, shoving it in his pocket looking so proud of himself.  

“Why did-”

“Oh gosh, for being a straight ‘A’ student, you really are stupid.” Carol said.  

“W-what?”

“Tommy over here told me if I asked you out, I'd get the 20. I did and I got the 20.” Steves words felt like a knife to the heart.  

“You put a bet on me?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner!” Tommy exclaimed, making everyone laugh.  

“You really believed that Steve would go out with you!” Carol snorted.

“I-”

“Listen, you seem like a great girl, I just don’t think you're up to the Steve Harrington standard. Nancy on the other hand, well she is. Don’t get me wrong, she just like you but more put together you get what I mean?” Steve’s words were harsh but said with ease.  

You began to shake, you tried to hold the tears back forming in your eyes letting one fall down your cheek.

“Aw are you crying?” Carol pouted.  

“I just thought you wanted to actually get to know me.” You choked out.  

“Get to know you? I’d rather talk to a freak than talk to you. But I guess that’s what I’m doing now huh?” Laughter erupted around you. People stopped and stared at you, all eyes were on you, people where whispering and giggling.

You quickly walked away from them, tears clouding your vision you didn’t want to go anywhere else but out. Your friends tried to stop you but you ignored them, you were just trying to get to your car where you could be alone. Getting in your car, you finally let it all out. They humiliated you in front of everyone, Steve placed a bet on you, everyone knew why. You were a loser. You’d never be Nancy Wheeler and you’d never be with Steve Harrington. Going home that day felt awful, you told your parents that you got sick and just needed to be home for the day, or the week. Thankfully, they took the bait and let you come home early and stay home for the week. Your mom went to the school to pick up your work you missed and that kept you occupied for the time being but didn’t distract you from your feelings.  

It didn’t help either that one of your friends called you, basically screaming at you that Steve asked her out on a date and she was calling you from the diner payphone that they were at right now. Your heart almost about blew up when you heard that. The day he does that to you, he asks one of your friends out? You told her congrats and when she briefly asked about your date, you just told her that you canceled because you didn’t feel well, hence why you left school today. She instantly bought it and told you that she’ll update you later and hung up. Of course, everyone had a crush on Steve and everyone wanted to be Steve. You wanted Steve but you didn’t know his personality, you didn’t know who he was as a person until now. Every girl he’s been with was ranting and raving about him and the dates he brings them on, you just wanted to experience one. You knew you were pretty, smart and you had a pretty decent reputation, why would he do that to you. Steve made you feel like nothing. He made you feel ugly, stupid and a loser. Steve Harrington was an asshole and no one knew that expect for you.  

=

Tuesday finally came. You begged your mom to stay home again, since you did Monday. You tired the fake puke trick but she saw right through it. Your mom convinced you if you went to school, you could buy something out of a catalog. You couldn’t pass that opportunity. If you were coming back, you were coming back looking like you haven’t been crying for the past week. You threw on the cutest outfit you could find, made sure the tear stains were off your face, kissed your mom goodbye and headed to school. The moment you walked in, the counselor grabbed you by the throat and dragged you into her office. Ms. Kelly was a nice lady; it was clear she cared about the students but it annoyed you because you didn’t want to talk. She asked how you were doing and what you plan on doing to keep your grades up. You explained that you have all your work, you just need to turn it in.  

“Wonderful!” she said.  

Ms. Kelly looked down at her paper, dragging her finger along until she stopped.  

“Ms. Click has actually requested to see you, I told her I'd send you down to talk to her. She couldn’t wait until your period. You can also take your work for her class and turn it in then.” She said, writing a hall pass. “Just come back here when you’re done okay?” You nodded gripping your history work, taking the hall pass and walking to Clicks. You liked Click, she was nice to you and you had her 5th period which was such a calm class, you liked everyone in there. As soon as you opened the door to Clicks, everyone's eyes were on you and even pair you didn’t want. Steve Harringtons.  

“Oh, perfect timing! Class, turn and talk about the question on the board I'll be a moment.”  

You walked into the classroom more to Clicks desk. She smiled at you and offered you a little candy. How could you say no. You handed her your stack of papers as she sat down at her desk.

“How have you been. 5th hour hasn’t been the same!”  

You glanced around the class to see the people. Steve was still looking at you. You began to fiddle with the hem of your shirt.  

“Oh, I've been sick. Flu season I guess.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you for doing your work while you were sick. Not a lot of kids even do their work in class.” you nodded. “I called you here to obviously see if you were alright but also to see if a student can borrow your notes. You did them perfectly and I think it would help them. Don’t worry, he’ll give it back to me so you can have it back.” Click began to look through another pile of papers.  

“Sure, who’s using it?”

“Steve.”

The color drained from your face. God was not on your side today. You didn’t want the cause of you missing school to look at your notes, it’s his fault he’s stupid.  

“Ah, here we are,” She pulled out your notes and handed them to you. “Give those to Steve please and you can be on your way. We can talk more in 5th hour!” She smiled. You grabbed your notes and have her a tight-lipped smile. Turning away from her desk, you walked to Steve’s. He clearly wasn’t doing the assignment, just goofing around and flirting with the girls around him. Making it to his desk, he stopped talking to the girls and instantly looked at you.

“What-”

“Ms. Click wanted me to give you my notes to help you out.” you interrupted, holding out the notes to him.  

“Pfft, I don’t need your notes. I don’t want to read mistakes.”  

Hold it together.

“It wasn’t my choice. It was Ms. Cli-”

“Does it look like I care about what she has to say? No. Do I care what you have to say? No. I'm surprised you even came to school today looking like this.”

The girls around him started giggling and whispering to each other.  

“I think I look fine.”  

“Well, I'm glad you had the confidence to wear clothes from the salvation army.”

Don’t cry.

“For your information, I got an ‘A’ on these notes and Ms. Click said I was the only one who got an ‘A.’ And I got these from a catalog and I'm sorry my daddy doesn’t buy me every new thing like your ugly BMW you drive and at least I'm not a wannabe dickhead.”

Steve put his hands over his chest, having a shocked expression on his face which quickly switched to a smug look.

“Wow! You got me there! You showed me!” Steve scooted up closer in his seat, resting his arms in front of him looking right at you.  

“I'm not the wannabe sweetheart, you are. You want to have my money and BMW so bad but here you are driving your run-down Ford Escort and thinking that catalog clothing is going to save you. It’s not. Sure, you think you're all smart but looks will do you better in the future. Remember that.” Steve snatched the notes from your hands and started to talk to his friends again. 

You left the classroom so fast, before you could say goodbye to Ms. Click. The whole day you were worried about what Steve said. About how you looked and how looks will get you places. You knew it was bullshit, you had colleges already begging for you to go to school but it’s the way Steve said it. Worse of it all, you went to 5th hour, hoping for a good period. Until you got your notes back to notice he scribbled all over them, writing things, drawing crude things on all your work. You frantically began to look through the notes until one comment stood out to you.  

‘When you walk out of school, make sure to wear the bag on your head I left you at your locker. You need it.’

Tears filled your eyes. You shot up from your seat and ran out of your class. Ms. Click was yelling for you as you ran down the halls until you got to your locker. There you saw a paper bag with eye holes cut out of it, tapped to your locker. You ripped the bag off your locker and fell to your knees, sobbing into the paper bag. Why was Steve being so mean to you? You should be ruining his life; he shouldn’t be ruining yours. This all started with a date that turned out to be a joke and then ever since your life went downhill. Classmates from your period found you and tried to comfort you of what happened. You broke and told Ms. Click what happened and what Steve did which led to Principal Higgins getting involved and calling your parents and Steve's. He got a suspended for the rest of the week which was a relief to you but didn’t help the situation. Now since this situation, you were known as the ‘Cry baby.’ Your friends tried to help you feel better and stood up for you when the time was right. You were grateful to have a support system but not grateful for Steve Harrington.  

=

It’s been a few months since the whole Steve situation and some forgot about it and moved on to other things like the Byers youngest boy going missing and Barb Holland also going missing, making the whole town worried. Steve was still a dick but he didn’t pay any mind to you though, he was too busy dealing with his goons and his dream girl, Nancy Wheeler. A part of you still had a crush on him, just the smallest he was still cute but he was still a dick. You had to go see Ms. Kelly every Friday since what happened which you didn’t mind but it was still annoying. It was the same bland conversation about your week. If there's any people giving you a hard time, grades, college, just boring, stupid conversations that waste your time during 6th period but you got to leave earlier which was a plus. Before you left, Ms. Kelly told you that your mom called and wanted you to stop by Melvald’s to grab some more dish soap so that’s where you are now, looking for dish soap and Melvald’s. Why are there so many soaps? You never paid attention to what one you used it was just soap.  You notice someone move at the conner of your eye, you paid no mind to it until you noticed who the someone was. The navy-blue jacket, the blue jeans, the green shirt, the hair. Yeah, it was him.  

Oh god not here.  

Focus on the soaps.

Glancing over at him he was looking at the band aids and ointments he looked dazed, squinting at labels trying to make it clear. Then a pair of hazel eyes fell on you, making you quickly look at the soaps. You swore your heart was going to explode it was pounding so fast, it felt like someone was squeezing your whole body you couldn’t breathe. Was this really happening? Why was he here? How could you not see his BMW in the parking lot? Anxiety riddled your body as you heard someone shuffle up to you. God don’t let it be you.

“Hey,”  

Frozen in place, you moved your head slightly to look at him. You were taken back by the way he looked. The right side of his face was bloody and bruised with the wound already scabbing over, his right eye swollen, a small cut settled on his lip following one on the bridge of his nose., going slightly down to the right of his cheek.  He looked awful. You tried not to stare at him too much, you didn’t want to be rude but it was impossible to look away. Who did this to the king of Hawkins high?

“Sorry to bother you. I just--I can't really read this. Is this the right ointment?”

Your eyes trailed down to the box he was holding making you huff out a laugh.  

“Well, if you have hemorrhoids then yes, but otherwise no.”  

“Uh, no. Not necessarily.” His face turned a light shade of red. “I need something for um,” he pointed to his face rising his eyebrows. “This.”

“I’ll help you. Hemorrhoid cream definitely isn't gonna help that.” you kicked yourself for that and made your way to where he was before. Steve stood watching you look through the hundreds of creams and ointments on the shelf. You eventually found one and replaced it the original ointment in Steve's hand for the new one.  

“Zemo will help a lot it does wonders; it makes it less itchy and heals quicker. You'll thank me later.”  

Steve looked at the medicine and looked back at you. There was no hatred in his eyes, no cruelness. Just hurt. He was hurt inside and out; he was guilty for what he’s done to you and so many others. He’s guilty for hurting the only girl he loves. He’s hurting.  

“Thanks.” that’s all he could say to you in this moment. A simple thank you, not anything else.

“Have you cleaned them?”  

“Uh no, just had an aspirin and a cold coke to put it on.” Steve shrugged.  

You sighed.  

“Okay, just get that, I'll finish what I need and meet me outside okay?”

-

The stinging sensation of the alcohol covered cotton pad on the open wound made Steve wince, making him pull his head away from you. You muttered a sorry and he just huffed and let you clean him up. Never in a million years you would be sitting here in the Milvad’s parking lot taking care of Steve Harrington. He watched you carefully as you take your time with him, carefully moving so he wouldn’t be in as much pain as he already was. It took someone to beat the absolute shit out of him for him to realize how much of a dick he was. How miserable he made people feel. How miserable he made you feel.  

“Sorry, this happened to you, I can't imagine how much it hurts.”

Steve scoffed at your sincerity.

“I deserved it, you out of all people should be happy this happened to me.”

“A little part of me is,” you admitted. “Who did this to you?”

You put the cotton pad down and grabbed the Zemo putting a glob on your finger and gently rubbing it in over his wound. Steve hissed at the contact.  

“Jonathan Byers.” Steve mumbled.  

“Oh wow.” You were quite shocked that a quiet boy like him could rock Steve’s shit. Steve was fit, he had to be for basketball and baseball so you assume he could win a fight. You finished applying the Zemo and giving it to Steve.

“Make sure you put this on twice a day, and only once if you shower. It should help the itch and the scaring a bit. You'll be healed in no time.”  

Steve held the Zemo in his hands and watched you clean everything up. You were really pretty up close. Yeah, he looked at you close up a lot of times but this time he noticed every detail of your face, every curve, every wrinkle, every texture, he was scared of looking away because he didn’t want to forget it. Steve thought back to the paper bag he taped to your locker, Tommy and Carol thought it would be a funny idea and so did he at the time. When he was in the principal's office with his dad with you and your parents, he glanced at you and his chest was tight. Your head was hanging low, tears falling down your cheeks and landing on your hands, silent sobs coming from you. Steve recoiled when heard let out sobs after him and his dad left the principal's office. Mr. Harrington made it clear if he pulled that shit again, he would be kicked off the basketball and baseball teams, he wouldn’t get into an ivy league school and end up as a drug dealer on the streets. Mrs. Harrington told him that’s no way to treat girls, there’s no reason to bully girls anyway. She was disappointed in her Stevie and Stevie was disappointed in himself. Of course, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole, if he didn’t get caught then he wouldn’t have to go through that whole fiasco again so he moved on from you and started being an arrogant prick either way to everyone around him. That ended up getting beat up, ditching his “friends” and getting taken care of by the girl he bullied.  

“Thanks for doing this, you didn’t have to you know?”

“I know.” you responded.

“Why did you?”

You sighed and looked at him. He looked so vulnerable, his hazel eyes soft and looking at you. Steve looked like a lost puppy; in some cases, he was. Now he was. He had no friends anymore, he was hurt and lost, no guidance, nothing. You seemed like the only thing keeping him afloat at this moment.

“Unlike some people Steve, I care. No matter what you did to me, how you treated me, you deserve some type of -- I don’t know but I was always taught to help people that needed it. I know you know what's right. I know what you have to do, so do it. You're better than this Steve Harrington.”  

You walked towards your car, quickly getting in throwing the stuff in the front and driving off before Steve could say anything to you. Deep down, you knew Steve was a good person he was just around bad people. As much as you hated it, you knew he had to apologize to Nancy, he had to make everything up to her and even Jonathan but it was selfish to think he’d do the same to you.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things angst #enimies to friends to lovers #steve harrington angst #king steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #angst #season one steve harrington #stranger things season 1 #mean!steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n smut

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

King of Hearts - a Mafia!Steve AU coming May 1st! (Featuring Mafia!Eddie)

Your father, head of one of the major crime ring families living in Chicago. Your husband, a marriage for alliance. You, an heiress to the proverbial throne caught in the middle. Time and distance never quell your feelings, only solidifying them once more when Steve Harrington makes his way back into town. Seemingly destined to be separated from the one man who has always held your heart, but Steve has his own agenda as he begins to set his plans into motion.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #king of hearts #mafia!steve harrington #eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #KOH #KOH moodboard #steve x dove #little dove #mafia!steve #mafia!eddie

[buckets-and-trees]

Cedar Trees

a collection of Royal AU stories centered around a King Steve Rogers and Queen!Reader

You came into this betrothal to Steve Rogers, King of York, with no illusions to the situation – yours was a marriage to ensure the continuation of many generations of alliance and peace between your respective kingdoms. It was your duty as the second-born. Very early, however, you learn what your royal union truly means to you both, and it's more than either of you expect.

Content Warnings: [check individual parts for their respective warnings] politically arranged marriage, reluctant pining, SMUT (rough fucking, vaginal intercourse, oral – female receiving, fluffy fucking, nipple play)

AUTHOR NOTE: The setting for this is a semi-Georgian era in a loose version of a North America based in no reality, only aesthetic and general royal protocols of the time.

ADDITIONALLY: I actively and eagerly accept questions about this AU as well as requests - asks I can get to fairly quickly, requests may take me longer. I know their general story, but I have no agenda for a plot for them, so I'm willing to fulfill requests based on what people would like to see in this couple's story.

ORIGINAL FOUNDATION PIECE: Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

Release Order:

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree [3.4k]

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are [1.2k]

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts [1.3k]

A Shift in the Morning Routine [1.1k]

Chronological Order:

The Thrill of Knowing How Alone We Are

Fire Burning From a Cedar Tree

A Shift in the Morning Routine

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Extras:

what if Cedar Trees was also an omegaverse?

your first winter holidays as Queen in the kingdom of Brooklyn

ask re: kinks and physical intimacy

Resources:

Collection Cover by me

Divider by @firefly-graphics / #evansyhelp

#steve rogers #cedar trees au #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers #royal au #steve rogers royal au #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #setlist of stories #female reader #forest navigation

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the pained peace treaty

fused with the foe, chapter one

a/n: oh wow, i have no idea how to introduce this beast of a story except to say hi, hello, welcome! i really hope you enjoy this story, as well as the rest of the trilogy, idk if i've ever gone as in depth and all out with any story as i have with these.

summary: “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

warnings: king!steve rogers x reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, slow burn, innocent!reader, abusive father (like super bad. he is a garbage person), wedding, blood, injury

word count: 4813

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next chapter

info about the world | maps | pinterest board | playlist

masterlist | join my taglist

“Your majesty, I must warn you, if, gods forbid, our people come to discover the great lengths you’ve been willing to go in this disagreement over the past two decades, they might start an uprising. And if you keep going, then it’ll turn into a full-blown war and you know our kingdom wouldn’t be able to survive that, not with them. Our city’s walls may be high, high enough to keep out any beasts that may wander this far south, but it wouldn’t keep them out. You know better than most how people from Eflorr are. If you don’t wanna lose your crown, one way or another, then I’d strongly advise that we come up with some peace treaty.”

“I know, I know…” King Ivan leaned back in his gilded throne with a huff, the quality of his voice was as thin as his towering frame, “a trade I think should suffice.”

A different advisor then timidly pipped up, “but our mines ran cold ages ago, what could we possibly offer that would be satisfactory?”

Not lifting his cold gaze, the king stared at a fixed spot on the marble floor as he said, “I know one thing the king lacks that we may be able to provide for him… a wife.”

“A wife–,” both of the men’s eyes grew wide, “but do you mean–, your majesty, she is your only daughter, are you certain this is the fate you want her to have? Those people are barbaric! If one of the dangers that rule the north doesn’t get to her first, one of their citizens surely will. Sire, what if history repeats itself?”

“Then let it do so. In fact, perhaps this could have been her purpose all along and I just didn’t realise it. Couldn’t see past my own rage to grasp how useful she actually could be…”

Sharing a nervous glance, one of the advisors asked, “should we send for her? See if she agrees with the plans?”

“No, I’ll tell her when the time is right. Wouldn’t want her to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing she could ever provide,” finally lifting his stony gaze, the king commanded, “make the arrangements, I’ll see to it that she doesn’t ruin it.” 

Deep within the opulent halls of the gilded palace, standing grand and safe behind Ingorn’s tall city walls, twisting up towards the clouds, up in a window in the western tower, there you sat. 

Book in your lap, you leaned back against the small pillow you’d propped behind you to make the wide windowsill more comfortable. Small paper butterflies hung from strings above and some dangled so low that the childhood craft that still decorated your window trickled the crown of your head. Flipping the page, your fingertips brushed down over the illustration that appeared in the agricultural tome you’d found in one of your brothers’ rooms. 

As long as you put it back before Angus returned then you’d probably be good. And if he were to somehow notice, then as long as he didn’t rat you out to your father then it would be alright. Both Angus and a few of the others that were closer to your age, Oliver and Francis respectively, were always a bit of a gamble whether or not they would do such a thing. They didn’t always have the same spirit as the eldest pair of your older brothers, Xavier and Callum. 

You missed them so much your heart ached. The older they got, the longer their diplomatic missions seemed to stretch out, making the quiet palace that much more lonely in your solitude. 

A knock then suddenly boomed at your door, causing you to jump edgily in your seat before you slammed the book shut and nervously stuffed it behind the firm pillow. 

“Come in!” you called out, swiftly straightening out your dress that had crumbled around your legs at the comfortable seat. As the door to your room slammed open, the figure that stood in it caught you by surprise, “Father–, oh, hello,” you straightened your posture that much further at his arrival. 

Skipping over any niceties, King Ivan simply stated, “you need to pack up your stuff.”

Your brows knitted into a fierce furrow, “what?”

“Not everything, of course,” he cast a cold glance around the room though didn’t take a step to enter it, “just the things you are particularly attached to.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” your head lightly shook from side to side, “where am I going?”

When his eyes finally gave you the time of day, it swiftly dropped to the floor as a heavy sigh flowed from his lips, “why do you have to be the spitting image of her…” the muttering was unfortunately just loud enough for your ears to catch. His disappointment was always just loud enough for your ears to catch. When he entered the room and you moved to get up, he swiftly said, “stay seated, Y/n,” before he planted himself next to you on the wide windowsill, “now, everything is already set into motion, so we don’t have time for any of your theatrics,” not looking you in the eye, he frostily told you, “you are to be married. A carriage has just arrived a few minutes ago to pick you up and transport you to Eflorr.”

“To Eflorr?” your gaze grew wide, “you wish for me to marry someone there?”

“Not just someone, you are to marry their king.”

“I–… I–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your rosy dress, “but father, you can’t–, I can’t go live with the people who killed mom.”

“We don’t know if they actually murdered her. But I do know that you did,” his glare locked upon you as he let himself seethe, “if you hadn’t been born then she’d still be alive,” the fact that the only thing he blamed more for his late wife’s untimely demise then the kingdom she’d perished in was you, remained a point that the sovereign had never been shy about sharing with you for as long as you could recall, “your duty is to protect and serve this land, this crown,” your eyes naturally fluttered up to gaze at the twisted gold balanced upon his head, “if you don’t go through with this, then those savages will come pillage and ruin your home. You are, regrettably, the very last hope this kingdom has of survival. You have no choice, Y/n. This marriage is the only thing that can stop a war we would never survive,” exhaling slowly, he then dominantly nodded in a concluding fashion, “pack your stuff, you have an hour.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “an hour? But–, can’t we wait at least a few days before I leave? Can’t I get a chance to say goodbye to at least one of my brothers? None of them are home yet.”

Regret instantly washed over you as your father’s nostrils flared angrily. Seizing your arm in a bruising grip, he yanked you close as he hissed, “you listen, and you listen carefully, you little brat. You have been the bane of my existence ever since you took your first breath. You took away the love of my life. You don’t deserve a goodbye, you don’t deserve anything. Do you think I got a goodbye when your mother suddenly went into labour on that diplomatic mission? No. All I got was you. Not another son, but a living, breathing reminder of what I lost that day,” your eyes squeezed shut as your cheek tingled at the memory of his strikes, “now, be a good girl and go wet his prick, give him a few babies, do anything he’d fucking please, so that him and his barbaric army doesn’t come here and slaughter everything you know and love.”

“Your highness, are you cold?” the high-ranking warden sitting across from you in the carriage noticed the shiver that your body couldn’t seem to shake. 

Tearing your eyes off of the scenery along The Emerald Path that the narrow window granted you a view of, you glanced back at the warrior. The brown hair he had practically tied off at the base of his neck blossomed into a dark beard. A bare palm clasped over an inked one in his lap as you met his gaze and said, “no, I’m–…” in truth, you were scared, so scared that you were trembling like a leaf, but you couldn’t tell the foreign king’s advisor that, too much weighted on your shoulders, you couldn’t screw this up, “no,” glancing back out of the window, you only stared a moment at the sparse cottages that slowly came into view on the rolling hills before you turned your head again and let the nauseating nerves control your words, “pardon me, Barnes, is it?”

“Yes, your highness?”

“Sir, how much further till we get there?” your quiet voice echoed within the carriage, “it’s just–, it’s been days.”

“Oh, not long at all,” he shook his head lightly, “actually,” the knight leaned forward in his seat and cast his glance outside, “if you look out the window now, right there,” a small smile tugged at his lips as his finger shot up to point, “that river, that means we’re getting close to Borün city.”

As the river then suddenly curved before the dirt road, the clomping hooves of the horses that hauled the coach resonated as they trotted over a stone bridge. 

Twisting your head, you glanced out to your right and spotted farmlands curve over the rolling hills that swiftly blossomed into thickets and towering flora you’d only assume was the southern perimeter of The Noll Woods. Books about this kingdom had been banned in your homeland for as long as you could remember, but even though you were essentially going in blind, you still weren’t completely ignorant when it came to the dangers that called that sprawling forest its home, not that you were an expert in the slightest, but your brothers had from time to time told you tales of the monsters who dominated in this part. From giant and twisted insect-like creatures, to mischievous pixies, to even the rare dragon, those stories had always been your favourite. Apart from the rare occasion where Callum would share stories with you about your mother. Being the eldest, he was the only one who truly remembered her. 

Instinctively, your fingers fluttered up to fiddle with the opalescent stone that hung from a chain around your neck. In the middle of the milky jewel was a small rune engraved into it. You had no idea what it meant, but your fingers had still traced the carving countless of times before as it had hung from your neck for as long as you could recall. It hadn’t been till you were a ways into your teens that you’d come to discover that it had belonged to your mother. 

Casting your glance out the other side as you passed a tall watchtower, behind the wide city stables unfolded a port town so quaint that it surprised you. Over the small valley of gabled roofs towered a central tree, and beyond all of that, the sparkle of the sea caught your eye, a sight you’d never beheld before, haven not only stemmed from a landlocked metropolis, but also not haven been permitted to leave your room as much as your heart had desired. 

“This is Eflorr?” you asked as the carriage began to roll up the winding path to the stone castle that loomed on the cliff, granting you a new view of how the river that you’d crossed slid through the city and spilt into the ocean.

“This is Eflorr, your highness,” the corners of his lips twitched at the sight of how wide your curious eyes were. 

“It’s–… it’s–…” your stare danced over the lush ivy that climbed the solid towers, “not what I expected…”

“What did you expect?”

Tearing your gaze away from the window, you blinked, “oh, I didn’t mean–,” suddenly worried that your shock had come out sounding rude, “I just–… I don’t know a lot about this land,” in the few tales you’d heard about this place, there had been a running gag that the people of Eflorr had lived so close to the dangerous beasts that called this part of the continent their home that they too had turned into monsters, “it’s just different than I imagined.” 

Ascending the jagged hill and passing through the front gate, it opened up into a wide courtyard before you felt the carriage finally roll to a stop. 

The wagon creaked gently as Barnes stepped out first, though when his boots were firmly on the cobblestone, his frame twisted as he reached an outstretched hand back for you to grasp in support of your own exit. Ever so apprehensively, you slid your own palm into his as your other twisted in your long skirts before you slipped out of the carriage. 

Letting go of his gasp, the soldier's low timbre washed over you as your head tilted back to take in the vast stronghold, “his majesty, unfortunately, couldn’t be here for your arrival as there was a bit of a dryad problem further up north he had to take care of,” you gaze tore away from the fort and fell upon him, “but I assure you he should be back in time for the wedding.”

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, unsure if that fact made you feel better or worse about the entire predicament.

“If you’d like, I can give you a brief tour of the castle,” he offered as he led you towards the main entrance into the castle proper, “or if you’re exhausted after the journey, then I can just show you directly up to your chambers.”

Offering him a polite smile, you nodded, “a tour would be lovely, thank you.”

He only briefly went over the buildings surrounding the courtyard you’d entered into, as they were mainly designed as barracks and various other facilities for the local wardens, though the horses that stuck their heads out of the royal stalls in the corner did catch your eye before you moved on inside. 

Barnes’ voice echoed in most of the chambers he showed you in the castle’s western wing. The vast stained-glass windows that were in the ballroom for instance took your breath away as you saw how the light streamed through them and warmed up the room with glittering little rays of colour. 

Behind the great halls, squeezed in between and connecting the two major parts of the fort, there you crossed through a much more quiet and lush courtyard. The pebble paths that curved around the central fountain too curled around various topiary bushes that were trimmed to perfection like living sculptures. 

Though as your guide showed you the eastern wing that crested over the foaming sea below, your curiosity got the better of you. 

“Hey, Barnes?”

Slowing his leisurely stride, he tilted his head slightly, “yes, your highness?”

“What are dryads?” your brows knit lightly together, “you mentioned there was a problem with them, but what are they?”

“You don’t know?” he glanced over at you, clearly trying to mask his surprise as you shook your head, “oh, well, they are forest spirits, nymphs,” he explained as you roamed deeper down a broad hallway on the second floor, passing many private chambers both to your right and your left, “it’s not uncommon for them to wander and bother the folks who live further up the coast. Have you never encountered one? They are not as uncommon in Obelón as most of the other creatures that thrive this far north.”

“No, I’ve never seen one…” you shook your head as a low sigh flowed from your lips, “never really seen anything…”

“Not much of an outdoorsy person?” he guessed in a light-hearted tone. 

Forcing a smile, you replied, “you could say that…” as you hadn’t been allowed to be one even if you wanted to. Passing a set of double doors that stood wide open, the sight inside made you halt your steps, “is this the library?”

Shadowing you as your feet crossed the threshold, he nodded, “yes, it is,” then pointed back over his shoulder, “and your quarters are right down that hall.”

Numerous grand bookcases stood lined up all the way down to where a tall window allowed the sunlight in and let it stream through the rows. 

“Can I–… would it be alright if I read some of them?” 

“Of course, your highness.” 

“Would you mind showing me which ones I’m allowed to read?” you briefly peeked back at him as a bubble of anxiety fluttered in your belly, “I don’t wanna accidentally read something that I’m not allowed to.”

Barnes then blinked back at you a moment before he uttered, “your highness, you can read each and every one of them if you’d like. Why wouldn’t you be allowed to read whatever you wish? They are yours after all, or will be after the wedding,” the corners of your lips twitched upwards as he then asked, “would you like to peruse the titles now or do you want to see your chambers?”

“Oh, uhm,” you tore your gaze away from the tomes and turned back, “I’ll look later.”

“Alright,” he nodded, extending his inked arm to show you the way. As he pushed the heavy wooden door open to the room at the very end of the hall, his voice rang out once more, “this is the peacock suite,” following him inside, he settled to a stop near the exit for you to explore the space on your own, “you can, of course, change anything you’d like for it to match your taste.”

“Thank you,” you breathed as you slowly made your way deeper into the chamber. It was gently divided with a more formal area towards the front where both tufted couches and a crackling fireplace stood, as well as a set of doors that opened up to a quaint balcony. Towards the left, under a swirling archway, twisted a broad canopy bed up towards the tall ceilings, warm with blankets and furs, and in the corner, by a breezy partition, stood a deep cobber bathtub.

Haven not noticed that he’d moved, you then heard as Barnes creaked the doors to a close, “if you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right outside.”

With a loud creak, the heavy double doors opened before you and revealed the grand hall. As soft music gushed out, you nearly didn’t recognise the space from your tour the other day as it was now decorated with vibrant flowers and flowing banners that dropped down from the high ceilings above, as well as being completely packed with a swarm of people. A thin path parted the giddy crowd right down the middle towards the opposing grand door that guards opened simultaneously to yours. 

A shaky breath filled your lungs as you stared at the man crossing over the threshold. The flickering candlelight caught the honeyed shine of the locks that came down to tickle the nape of his neck. A bit darker, his short beard was full and warmed up the bottom half of his gruff features. He sure looked like a man who could slay a kraken with his bare fists, as the soft fur cloak that draped over his shoulders did not conceal his bulky physic one bit. The neckline of his indigo tunic stretched low enough for you to see the concave of his fuzzy chest and the impressive battle scars that broke up the rippling flesh. 

You’d seen the portrait of the king that hung in the hallway that stretched up towards the throne room, but to see him before your very eyes, in flesh and blood and not precise paint, was something else entirely. 

The long and embroidered train of the blue silk kirtle you wore dragged across the store floor behind you as both you and the monarch slowly stepped into the chamber to join in the very middle. 

The enchanting music stopped as you reached one another and the parted paths to either exit slowly closed as the crowd gathered and enclosed around the sacred vow that was about to ensue. 

Parting the sea of people like a divine force, an elderly woman, with a braided grey mane so long that it hit the floor, stepped up beside the both of you. 

“People of Eflorr,” the crone’s calm voice boomed, “today marks a day of unity, a day of peace, and most of all a day of love. Like a seed planted in the soil, tonight we will all witness this relationship blossom and go on the journey of growing into a magnificent tree, with roots strong enough to endure any storm, to propagate new seedlings that will watch over and shade our kingdom when yours have fallen.” 

Looking to the king, she handed him a small dagger from her belt and spoke, “blade across skin,” and he reached out for your right hand, “strike out your seedling’s love line,” your breath hitched as you felt him slice the top of your palm. Crimson blood trickled down onto his own hand as yours rested atop it, “and claim it as your own,” he flipped the blade around and handed it to you, before presenting you his own palm, open in yours. He didn’t even blink as you hesitantly pierced the calloused skin and traced the line already adoring his broad palm, “weave your lines together, so they become the same,” he then moved to clasp your hands together, his wide grip engulfed yours completely. Your teeth sank into just the faintest bit of your bottom lip at the fresh sting of your wound as it bled into his, “and may this scar serve you as a reminder, of the vow you made on this momentous day.” 

And as the last of the matron's words flowed from her lips so did the roar of celebration that erupted throughout the crowd as the festivities of the night bloomed at an instant.

The feast had been nothing short of immaculate. Countless of dishes had been spread out on the crowded banquet tables ranging from the savoury braised legumes to the sweet and shiny pies. It was an impossible task to try and taste every one of them, but an excuse you still used to stay glued to your seat and not get up and mingle with the boisterous gathering of strangers. 

As a stark contrast, you thought you only noticed the king take two bites before he rose to greet some latecomers who had arrived. Laughing and chatting with the sea of people, he hadn’t offered you a single word, barely even a brief glance the whole night. Though your gaze still followed him from your seat up at the high table as he moved through the crowd like they were all his dearest friends. 

When the moon had floated up to be high in the sky, clearly visible on the other side of the stained glass, your head had dropped down into a propped-up palm as a deep yawn forced its way out of your frame. 

“Are you tired, your majesty?” a deep timbre suddenly found your ears, a specific tone that caused your spine to straighten out at once. 

Whipping your head to your right, your weary eyes grew wide as you saw the king again at his seat, “no, I’m alright,” you hastily coughed out, “I’m so sorry for behaving like that in your presence. This party is exquisite.” 

“It’s alright, you can yawn,” you suddenly felt the need to look away now that his ocean stare was finally fixed upon you, “it’s late, I was about to retire for the night as well, so I can only imagine how you must feel. If you’d like, I could escort you back to your chambers. I’m not sure how familiar you’ve become with the castle since you’ve arrived, but even I can still get lost when the corridors are this dark and I’ve indulged in perhaps one too many goblets of wine.”

A flutter of nauseating nerves rushed within your belly, but even so, you still pushed through and forced a smile, “if that’s what the king desires, then sure, you can escort me.”

It was your wedding night. You knew what was about to happen. 

Or, actually, you didn’t quite know what the marital act entailed, but you were sure a man such as Steve had enough of an understanding to take charge. All you knew was what little you’d been told. To strip down naked, not whine or scream, and do as he tells you. 

The soaring butterflies within you only grew more ferocious as you followed his long stride throughout the castle. Out of the ballroom and through a cold stone hallway, when you crossed the bridge that linked the two wings over a part of the cliff that descended dramatically, you nearly doubled over the parapet to empty your stomach over the town of Borün that blossomed below. 

But with a shaky intake of breath, your fist closed around the silk of your skirt as you settled yourself and forced your feet to keep moving. Even as you passed the threshold into the eastern part of the castle, you still shadowed the monarch up the many steps until his broad palm held the door to your chambers open for you to enter. 

The fire had been lit while you were gone, and the room was encased in the warm glow. 

“Did, uh…” you heard the door close behind you as the king attempted a bit of small talk, “did you have a nice time tonight?” 

“I did, your majesty,” you kept your answer brief out of fear that he’d hear the tremble to your tone. 

Slowly turning his back to you, his gaze washed over the room, “are you pleased with your bed chambers?” he settled to face the balcony, the door slightly ajar to let the night breeze seep through and rustle the sheer curtains, “because if you don’t like it, if you’d rather have a view of the town then the sea, then that’s an easy problem to fix.” 

“I think the view is just fine from here, but thank you,” you answered politely as you gathered up the last bit of your courage and reached back to undo the long row of buttons that went down the spine of the light blue dress. 

When the silky garment dropped to the floor, the quiet rustle was enough to draw the king’s attention.

First offering you just a quick glance over his shoulder, he then swiftly whirled around completely, “what are you doing?”

Weaving your fingers in the thin material of your chemise, you blinked back at his stunned features, “I’m sorry, am I doing it wrong?” sure that he could already see everything through the sheer, white fabric. 

His feet didn’t move as he asked, “what are trying to do?” before he averted his gaze to the stone floor. 

“Well,” you uttered quietly, “it’s our wedding night.”

“Oh…” was all he breathed. 

“To be transparent, I’m actually not quite sure what’s to happen, but I do know it’s something,” reaching up, you took the gold and twisted circlet, that crowned your head, off and carefully sat it down on the side table to your left, “I don’t know the details, I just know that I should strip down. Do you know what we’re supposed to do?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, “yes I do, but, your majesty, please, keep your clothes on,” his gaze flickered back to you as you slowly began to hike up the last layer. 

“Why?” your fingers froze, “isn’t it a tradition here for us to–”

“Well, yes, but–…” he let out a strained sigh before slowly stating, “I’m gonna go.” 

A chill crawled up your skin, “…oh, I see…” you uttered quietly as he crossed the room, “did I do something wrong?”

Halting in the doorway as he ripped it open, “no, you–…” but the rest of his words crumbled as his gaze settled upon you one last time, instead letting a low sigh flow from his lungs, “sleep well,” and added nearly subconsciously just before the door slammed shut, “goodnight, dove.”

Even though a wave of relief washed over you, a sting of hurt also followed suit as the king left. 

Had you done something wrong, or did he just find you that repellent, that hideous, that he refused to perform his marital duties?

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #eflorr au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #steve rogers series #king!steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader