#pulls away when steve's muscles jump.

[toburnup]

since ao3 is down, reblog and put the last sentence you wrote for your WIP in the tags

#steve's shirt rides up and exposes some of his stomach - the ragged end of one of the deeper scars. eddie traces it with his finger and #pulls away when steve's muscles jump. #(since ao3 is down you MUST be writing - right??) #ao3 #yall know what this is for lol

[starrystevie]

rating: mature; 18+ only | cross posted on ao3 here

"truth or dare?"

steve's looking at eddie expectantly while he waits for his answer, his eyes wide and cheeks pushed up from the grin pulling at his lips. he's shirtless from past dares and eddie's trying hard to not look at the hair covering his chest, to not look at the way his scars have faded into a pretty dusty pink, to not look at the flexed muscles in his arm from where it's slung over the back of the couch and he's definitely not looking at the way the movement pulls his pec up.

they aren't high enough for this, not drunk enough for it either, but he feels intoxicated. maybe that's just what being around steve harrington at 2am does to him. it makes him stupid.

"...truth?"

steve's grin grows wide enough to challenge even the cheshire cat and eddie knows that truth was the wrong choice. see? stupid.

the hand on the back of the couch tightens and eddie can feel the way it pulls the cushion under his back, the fabric creasing against his shoulder blade. steve's leaning in a tiny bit closer, same wild grin on his face, and eddie feels himself stop breathing. he tries to remain calm, tries to keep an even expression on his face, but when steve harrington is in his presence, it's harder than it seems.

"okay... truth," steve's close enough that eddie can see the specks of green in his eyes and he tries to focus on that instead of how he can almost feel breaths that aren't his own on his lips.

"what's your biggest turn on?"

whatever breath eddie attempts to suck in gets stuck in his throat and turns into a cough forcing steve to pull away cackling. he isn't in eddie's face anymore but he can still feel him, can still sense the barely there exhale on his face, can still only see steve green behind his eyelids.

"what the fuck, dude?!" is all he can get out. his palms are sweaty so he rubs them furiously over his jeans, scowling at his fingers when they get stuck in the small rips.

steve is laughing at the other end of the couch but his arm is still settled over the back of it, creating the most delicious tension on his chest. he looks broad like this, broader than eddie's really ever seen him. and with his hand across the couch and his legs opened just slightly and his bare chest on display and his bright white teeth glinting in the dim moonlight he looks-

he's hot.

he looks like the old steve, all cock-sure and suave, like he knows he can get absolutely whatever he wants. it does eddie's head in. is he what steve wants? is he why steve looks like he could jump on anything and everything that came his way? is he why steve thought he could ask him about his turn ons as easy as if he was asking about the weather?

"i don't have-"

"oh bullshit," steve says with a flick of his free hand. "everyone has one, man. what gets you all hot and bothered?"

eddie tilts his head up with a scoff. "why do you want to know?"

"consider it your average every day bonding." he says it like it's obvious, like all guys do when they sit around and play sleepover games like they're kids again is talk about what they like in bed.

but eddie's drunk on steve in 2am moonlight and can't help himself for giving him everything.

"i like dirty talk."

he'd always give steve everything.

steve's grin shifts into something borderline feral that has eddie vibrating under his skin. he moves his hips and settles back into the arm of the couch, leveling eddie with his gaze. his eyes are heavy when they look at him and eddie feels glued to the spot.

"oh yeah?" steve's inflection sounds exactly like what eddie craves for and he's afraid that he's shown all his cards already if steve was able to pick up on it that fast. "like what?"

he rolls his eyes if only so that he can take them away from watching steve's muscles contorting as he shifts on the couch. it's not hard to get eddie in the mood, that's the embarrassing thing. his limited experience before he learned about alternate dimensions and things living under hawkins didn't exactly help his case. he didn't exactly have guys throwing themselves at him as a social pariah covered in still healing scars, either.

so steve looking at him with those eyes and that grin and without a shirt for god's sake? not helpful.

"i don't know, i just-" his mind supplies images that gets his cock stirring. a certain king of hawkins under him or on top of him or right behind him whispering things in his ear that he had never really thought about before.

"-i just like hearing the effect i have on them, i guess."

and then without warning steve is moving. he's up on his hands and knees and is leaning into eddie's personal space again, his face close enough to eddie's that he can see that damn green in his eyes again.

there's still a bit of space between then but not nearly enough that eddie isn't effected by it. steve's pinkie is brushing his thigh and his cock that was already interested just thinking about the sounds steve could make is stirring even more awake under his gaze.

"you like hearing you're doing good?" steve questions. eddie sighs. "you like all the moans and stuff?"

all eddie can do is nod, afraid that if he speaks that he'll do something embarrassing like say he wants to pull whatever sound out of steve that he'd let him. suddenly, steve's pulling away minutely to get his mouth close to eddie's ear, breath coming out in puffs against his skin.

"oh fuck," steve huffs out, voice pitched high and dainty. feminine. "oh, oh eddie, it's so good."

eddie grips his hands onto his knees like they're the only thing keeping here on planet earth as steve moans in his ear. his cock is starting to grow, whatever blood that was left in his head heading south fast and it's leaving him dizzy. from up close, he's sure steve can see what he's doing if he was to look down. he's wearing sweatpants that don't exactly hide anything, after all.

the sounds steve are making are all light and pretty like he's going off of his own experience and eddie has the fleeting thought that it's what girls sound like under him. that some girl has been pressing up close to steve's chest and had her pretty pink lips up close to his ear as he fucked her into the mattress. but oh, if eddie had the courage he'd tell him. tell him that he doesn't want to hear some girl, some stranger.

he wants to hear steve.

"you gonna take care of that?" steve's voice is back to somewhat normal, a bit raspy and deep, and it floods through eddie's veins like molten lava. he doesn't remember closing his eyes but he peels them open and turns his head to look at steve. he follows his gaze and sees that they're both looking at how turned on eddie is. he doesn't have enough blood left in his cheeks to blush but he would if he could.

"steve, that's wei-"

a hand wrapping over his knee stops him mid sentence. "not weird. do it. i want you to."

eddie gulps even though his throat feels drier than it's ever been. steve's fingers tighten and he jerks his chin up to urge him on and fuck, he knew he'd always give steve whatever he wanted.

"can you just," eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth as he drops his hand to his waistband, fingers teasing under the fabric. "sound like you, please?"

the silence feels palpable. he can feel every place that his clothes are touching him, every place that steve is touching him, every place his breath has fallen on him that evening. he has half a mind to take it back and tell him he was joking, to pretend like he's some girl again and eddie could get off on that, too. he could at least try, especially if it was steve.

but then- "eddie, fuck."

steve's mouth is close to his ear again, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear as he groans into it. his voice is pitched deep but it's definitely undeniably steve. he shifts onto his knees so he can drape his arm behind eddie once more. not touching, but there and as eddie's hand slips under the fabric to grip at his cock, they both let out a sigh.

"yeah, there you go. gonna touch yourself for me, hmm?"

"shit," eddie groans out as his hand trails over his weeping cock. he brings his thumb up to gather a bit of the precome that's dribbled out of the top and rubs it between his fingers before gliding them down his length. steve's panting these little sounds into his ear that mirror eddie's own moans. when he sighs, steve sighs, when he whines, steve whines.

it's like he's touching himself to get steve off, too, and isn't that something to think about? them laying side by side with each other's dicks in their hands, stroking just how the other likes to get them off. he'd watch steve's face, speed up when his eyes open and slow down when he's close. he'd buck his hips into steve's steady grip, swallow the moans he pulls out of him so they echo through his body. it'd be heaven on a mattress or hardwood floor or ratty couch in a ratty trailer.

"got me all hard in my jeans, eddie." steve breathes out and eddie can't see is he's lying or not but it sounds true and eddie briefly wonders if steve should go into porn with those acting skills. "the way you look with your hand in your pants, jesus, it's a sin. all flushed and hot and, god-"

if steve keeps it up, eddie is going to be done way faster than he wants to be. his hand speeds up when steve lets out a particularly loud moan in his ear and then there's a brush of denim against his arm and wow, steve was in fact not lying. his hips keep jumping up to get pressure against eddie's forearm and the long line of steve's cock is teasing him.

"steve," he whines out, "are you..."

"of course i am," he laughs against eddie's ear before sneaking a tiny kiss to his temple. "you're so fucking hot, dude. been wanting to do this for too long. too long, oh my god."

his hand that was on eddie thigh moves up to unbutton his pants and slides under his own waistband and eddie takes a moment to slow his strokes as he looks up at steve. he looks like a greek god in grungy trailer lighting, chest shimmering with sweat and puffing with heavy breaths. he's grinning down at eddie and he feels like he could float away.

"think i'm hot, stevie?" he says on a shuddering breath as he hits a spot on his cock that he immediately goes to find again. steve smirks before his eyes roll back as he gets a hand on his own dick.

"so hot, so fucking-"

he's cut off by a moan and eddie sends up a silent thank you to the universe that they have the trailer to themselves for the next few days because eddie needs to pull more of those out of him. he needs steve on his back and on his cock and in his mouth and on his fingers and every which way he'll let him have him if it means he gets to hear more of that.

"gonna get my mouth on you soon enough, gotta know what you taste like. gonna get you down my fucking throat..."

steve's brought his mouth back down to eddie's ear and is grunting like he's running the race of a lifetime while he tells eddie what he wants to do him. says truths of his own outside of the now forgotten game, secrets laced with some of the most romantic things eddie's ever been told. tells him how pretty he is, how good he is, how he's imagining eddie's fingers on his cock and on his skin and how he's close, close, close.

knowing he's effecting steve this much, knowing he has this hold on him that he thought was one sided, knowing that he's racing through steve's veins like he's racing through eddie's, it's too much.

"i'm... fuck- i'm gonna," eddie's hand speeds up and the hand on the back of the couch comes up to tangle in his hair. there's a pressure pulling him back until he's looking at the ceiling for a second until all he can see is steve and the flecks of green he's come to love.

"it's okay, i've got you, come on. let me just-"

their first kiss is shared on a ratty couch in a ratty trailer with their hands in their pants and come covering their fingers. eddie's mouth is open enough that he's moaning into steve's and the hand on the back of his head is twitching while he comes. they pull apart enough that eddie can hear what they sound like as they work through their orgasms together, can hear what steve sounds like as he works himself down.

he's going to get that on a record someday, he tells himself. it'll go platinum.

and just as quick as it started, it's over. only this time steve's snuggling up next to him and using his clean hand to stroke over the exposed skin on eddie's stomach instead of returning to the opposite end of the couch. their chests are heaving as they try and regain their composure and it feels like bliss until steve laughs.

it's like an ice bucket being poured over him and he wishes he didn't love hearing steve so much because he's afraid that the laugh will haunt his memories for ages to come. steve must feel him freeze up because the hand on his stomach circles around his waist and pulls him even closer so he can nuzzle his face into eddie's chest. it starts to settle the nerves that had wound themselves around his insides.

"i don't know if you could tell," he starts, voice muffled against eddie's flannel. "but i've been wanting to do that, this, for ages."

eddie snorts. "you've wanted to make me jizz in my pants for ages? really? low standards even for you."

steve snorts out a laugh in return. "no, you idiot. i've wanted to be able to do this for ages."

he tilts his head up and places a featherlight kiss to eddie's lips. it's soft, it's sweet, it's the opposite of everything that happened not two minutes prior. eddie feels a smile tugging at his mouth and pulls back to see steve smiling, too.

"does this mean..."

there's no words, no definition that eddie can put to the events of the night that don't sound silly or juvenile. but then he sees steve settle back down, pressing a kiss to right over his heart before laying his head down where it was.

"... that we're doing that again? absolutely. just maybe in a bed next time."

and maybe they don't need a label. maybe all they need is laying on a couch with come cooling in their pants and echoes of what just happened bouncing off the trailer walls. maybe all they need is a promise of later sealed with a kiss and their heartbeats in synch.

and maybe, just maybe, they'll play truth or dare again.

#defintely did not beta read or whatever so ignore any and all typos pls #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie smut

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers X gn!Reader

Tiktok on my foryou really fueled my writer-self and i'm not even sorry.

"Killer chases MC. MC gets cornered or sumthin and as the killer catches up, MC grabs him by his shirt/jacket/hoodie/thing, slams him into the wall behind him, tears his mask down and kisses him while leaning their full body weight on the killer.

Killer is like 🧍‍♂️

While MC just 🏃 to the hatch/gate."

Enjoy this silly thing and ignore any mistake I might made. English isn't my first language lol

-----------------------------------------

Ghostface:

You were the only one left. Meg was moried for looping Ghostface for too long and it pissed the killer off. Steve sacrificed himself to save you, since he was already injured and pushed you to run away while he got the killer's attention. Élodie finished the third generator before getting caught, and at that moment the only other survivour was you, who was getting chased by the Ghostface.

You got injured, but got away quick enough to heal yourself, hearing the entity finishing off poor Élodie on the other side of the map. You felt bad, since you could've saved her if it weren't for the killer lurking around the corner of the police station.

You huffed as you finished bandaging your arm and slowly started walking down the dark hallway, not making any sound in case Ghostface was near.

But luck wasn't on your side of course, since he appeared out of nowhere in front of you from the other room and you, by sheer luck got ahold of his shoulders and slammed him against the wall next to you, pinning him there.

You were shocked, as well as him, but to confuse him even further, you pulled his mask up to his nose and kissed him, while putting your whole body weight on him.

He dropped his knife in shock and just stood there, frozen in place. He didn't have enough time to react properly.

The kiss ended a few seconds later and you were gone, running down the hallway, to the main entrance, luckily finding the hatch there, making your escape easier than you thought ever was possible.

Even when you got back you brushed your fingertips against your lips, remembering Ghostface's taste. It was sweet and had an undertone of smoke. He's a smoker, but loves sweets, especially caramel.

The next time you met him, let it be trial or not, he gave you the same treatment, making the kiss last longer with lingering touches of his fingertips brushing down your spine, holding your face and touching your hips.

What was between the two of you was never talked about, but it was obvious for anyone that it was more than a game of cat and mouse.

The Legion, Frank:

One of the gate was already open, Yoichi got injured, but escaped.

Yui out ran the killer and got out as well and Feng was sacrificed already. Poor girl was trying to heal herself, since she had a medkit but made the mistake of making a noise, which alerted the killer.

That left you running from the Legion, trying desperately to get to the gate or at least find the hatch.

Another ding rang around the whole map, signalling the timer going even lower now and that the enitity is waiting to strike you and punish you for not escaping.

You felt it only once, but it was enough to not want to go through it again.

You jumped through a window, falling down from the second floor, making your landing more painful and slowing you down for a few second, which gave enough time for the Legion to catch up.

He walked toward you with such a cocky confidence that it irritated you. But, you got an idea, which made you seem scared, but actually tensing your muscles to get ready and wait for him to get close enough.

When he did, you grabbed him by the front if his hoodie and slammed him against the hay behind him, making him grunt in surprise.

You yanked his mask down from his face, not even giving him a moment to realize what was going on and you kissed him with so much force his knees buckled, you grip on him the only thing keeping him from falling on the ground.

You heared a whimper from him, but you were too focussed to truely do anything about it, or really realize what he just did.

You heard his weapon slip from his hand and that was the moment you pulled away and ran to the gate that was just a few metres away.

You made it out right before the timer went off, leaving Frank alone while he slowly slid down to sit on the ground and stare before himself in shock while panting and blinking like an idiot.

After he caught up about the whole situation, he had a little grin on his face and touched his lips, still tasting you on them.

He decided to wait for the next time he sees you again to give you a rougher treatment, as a thanks for making him realize something about himself.

Even if that something was a thing he swore he hated. Getting himself slammed against something solid was a new and exciting thing he wanted to explore with only you.

Michael Myers:

The two of you were staring at each other. Neither of you moving an inch, while making sure to note any tiny movement the other was making.

The others were dead already, only three gens done, which was a miracle when the trial was with Michael. With him, every single time only one gen was done, he somehow alway knew where everyone was and what they were doing. He finished everyone off with such quickness that even the Entity couldn't influence his perfect efficency.

Until today.

He was angry, it was obvious from the louder-than-usual huffs he was letting out, his shoulders more tense, his grip on his knife made his knuckles even whiter than his already pale skin was.

Something happened to him and you were the last one left, which meant torture until he was satisfied, not letting the Entity interviene.

Not like she ever did, but that's besides the point.

You held your flashlight, breathing as slowly as you could to try and react in time to at least give the impression that you were trying to run away.

You took a step behind you, there was a window, but even if you could just jump out, he would catch up and most likely make you suffering even more painful.

But you had an idea that Feng talked about jokingly. That is a video she saw where there was a girl running from a killer in a haunted house. But she turned around and slammed the masked killer against the wall, pulled his mask up and kissed him. Which made the killer stunned enough for her to run away.

You knew the element of surprise was everything, but Michael was stronger than a normal human, even stronger in trial. But you had to give it a try, for your escape at least or to gain time to locate the hatch.

You moved fast, jumped out quickly and dropped down, making you grunt but step away, seeing the killer climb out and drop down next to you.

You grabbed the giant man by his arms and with your full body weight, you slammed him against the wall behind him, his knees were bent, which gave you enough room to quickly as you could, pull his mask up and slam your lips against his.

Michael tensed up, his right arm shook with the amount of force be was gripping the knife, but he didn't move.

He was like a statue, too still to be human, but the surprise was enough for you to push him to the wall while you pulled away and ran as fast as you could.

You found the hatch without meeting him again.

You were the first person ever to escape the Shape.

Surprising everyone, being asked questions about the "how" and "why". You didn't explain, you couldn't.

And after that, whenever you had a trial with the Shape, you never saw him, but felt his gaze on you and you were always let go.

Why?...You never really got an answer, but on one part you were glad, and on the other you were embarrassed, since you knew exactly why he never approached you again.

What you didn't know is you became more of an obsession to him than Laurie, but a different kind.

A more possessive and dangerous kind.

#dbd x gn reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #michael myers x reader #dbd ghostface x reader #the legion x reader #dead by daylight x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #gender neautral reader #what did i just write #help #tiktok made me do this #im not kidding #im not okay

[upsidedownwithsteve]

shy reader calling steve a pet name for the first time and he just short circuits 💖 like she calls him stevie and he forgets that robin ever used to call him that to tease him it just sounds like the most beautiful sweet thing youve ever said to him before

Steve’s brain was already fuzzy, ‘cause you’d come in half an hour before the end of his shift, smelling sweet, like mint and cherries, summer dress kissing at your thighs. You’d leaned over the counter, shy smile, eyes fond, kissing him when Robin wasn’t looking.

He’d hummed in pleasure, chasing your lips, always wanting more when it came to you. Steve would happily call himself a greedy, greedy man if it meant he could keep you to himself. So you granted him one more, mouth parting just slightly and he heard it, that little hitch of your breath when he got ahead of himself and let his tongue sweep over your lips.

His brain was white noise, static. You looked too pretty. How dare you? Didn’t you know what you did to him?

Your shy smile and flushed cheeks told him no, you didn’t have a clue. And god, wasn’t that even worse? Steve wanted to eat you up.

And then— and then!

“Stevie?”

The boy swallowed, throat thick, eyes blinking at you, dreamy, unfocused. His heart was thundering in his ears.

You said it again, voice soft, unsure like you were starting to doubt yourself at his silence. “Steve?”

Steve startled back to life, cheeks pink with pleasure, with affection, his hands finding yours over the countertop. He huffed out an almost laugh, an embarrassed noise, ‘cause he could feel the heat on his face, the tips of his ears. He felt like a freshman with his first crush - he always felt like that looking at you.

“—did you hear me?” You were frowning a little, brows crinkled as you wondered what you’d done to earn the dopey, lovesick gaze Steve was giving you. Not that you minded, but it made you flush, shy and a little overwhelmed with all the attention. “What’s wrong?”

“What’d you call me?”

You burned. “What? Nothing.”

“Baby,” Steve coaxed softly, a wide, bright smile stretching slow over his lips, like he couldn’t keep it at bay. His heart felt like it was fit to burst out of his chest. “No, c’mon, say it again.”

You blinked, eyes on the ceiling like Steve would forget if you looked away long enough. A gentle tug at your fingers brought you back, a calloused thumb pressed kindly to your palm. You gazed at the boy from under your lashes, watching the way he grinned.

He was too lovely.

“You gettin’ sweet on me?” He asked, no, teased.

“Steve,” it was an almost whine, shy and petulant, lips pushed into a pout ‘cause Steve loved to get you riled up for him, only to soothe you back down with the softest touches, whispered words and lazy kisses.

“No,” he frowned, all dramatic. “I liked it when you said it the other way.”

So you relented, nose crinkled and you tried not to grin, ‘cause it would only make the boy worse. You leaned in instead, pushed up onto your tips toes so you could meet him over the counter top, your own hands sneaking bravely up his forearms. You traced the lines of muscle there, lean and strong, upupup until you could push your thumbs to the soft skin in the crease of his elbow.

His smile faltered, pink lips parting, cheeks growing more rosy with each pass of your hand. “You mean Stevie?” You asked him, the picture of innocence, all wide eyed and quiet as you spoke.

His breath left him in a rush, spearmint gum and cherry cola. He nodded, jaw lax ‘cause of course he was thinking about you calling him that in bed, with his mouth between your thighs, his co—

“You know, you told me you hated it when I called you that,” Robin interrupted by slamming a pile of returned cassettes on the desk between you both.

Steve jumped, cursing, a glare sent his friends way as you pulled back, mortified at being caught distracting Steve from work. You smiled weakly at Robin, guilty, but she grinned at you, winking to let you know she was only here to grind the boy’s gears, not yours.

…

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #emmy rambles #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve baby blurb

[rustedhearts]

hurt (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: steve’s looking to blow off some steam after his first title fight loss, and you tend to him the best you know how.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the king of ring ♡

tags: make way for steve's ego!, smut, like...accidental size kink idk how that happened honestly, steve's not an official dom b/c we don't do that anymore around here but he's a dom, little bit of blood, more biting!!, bruising.

dallas, texas april 1991

"Goddamn it!"

The door to Steve's dressing room flung open, hurling toward the wall with a resounding bang. You flinched, slowly standing to your feet from your place on the leather couch. You were carted back stage by an assistant a few minutes ago, just as the arena, and all of America, saw the referee raise Steve's opponent's fist in victory—for the first time in his career.

Steve stomped into the room, beat red and dripping sweat. He was practically steaming. Your palms slicked as Big and Mikey trailed in behind him, prepared to do damage control.

"Harrington...it happens—"

"—to amateurs. To losers. Not to me," Steve snapped, voice booming and sharper than a sword. You jumped again when his gloves went flying into the wall.

He flattened his damp hair against his skull, fingers jumping and arms buzzing. You could see it brewing on his face—he was going to explode. His jaw clenched, his eyes darted around the room, he began to pace. Tick, tick, tick. It was only a matter of time before he'd burst.

"It's one loss, Steve," you piped up, stepping toward him to comfort. "It's really not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of—"

"Undefeated, Libby. Y' know what undefeated fuckin' means?"

You felt the strain of muscles in your face, how gravity pulled them downward. Big, hands on his hips and head cocked disapprovingly, glanced at you. It was getting easier to spot the cracks between the pair of you these days.

"Steve," you sighed, gathering his gloves from the floor to place them in his bag. "I'm just saying—"

"—I'm not supposed to fucking lose! And maybe I wouldn't 've, if you did your fuckin' research."

You craned to look over your shoulder, finding Steve's gaze on his coach. Steve had taken a step closer, now toe to toe with a man much larger than him. Big—graced with a name that, in all reality, didn't do the sheer size of him justice—fixed Steve with a steady, unimpressed stare. But the thing about Steve when he was angry? Truly angry, seething, seeing black.

He'd fight anyone just to feel release.

"Come on, man," Big huffed, head shaking.

You zipped up Steve's duffel, sinking down on the couch again to rub your temples. This was going to be a long night.

"He was a switch hitter. Woulda been a good thing to know...don't you think? Huh?" Steve sneered, looking up his nose at his coach.

Big held his hands up in surrender. "These things happen, Harrington—"

"Not. To. Me."

The room fell to a ringing silence. Mikey lingered near the door, anxiously petting his mustache. The paparazzi were waiting, huddled at the end of the tunnel for a snap of Steve, 'The King of the Ring' Harrington's first loss. He had a post-fight conference in forty minutes. The endorsement representatives would be coming by to offer their pitiful condolences that you knew would only enrage him.

"They don't fuckin' happen to me," Steve growled, pounding at his glistening, heaving chest with a gauze-wrapped fist.

Big just shrugged, watching Steve turn to stomp your way. You stood, reaching for his arms. All you wanted was to comfort him, soothe him, bring him back to that grumpy but agreeable Steve you all knew. You'd never seen him like this—because he'd never been like this. He'd never lost.

Big inched forward on one foot, but when Steve was merely stiff and silent in your gentle, stroking touch, the coach backed away toward the door. He was always a little cautious after the incident in New York last year. He didn't like the way Steve grabbed you, and he didn't like the way he kept doing it ever since.

Mikey opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish, searching for something to say but too afraid to muster it into words. Steve looked murderous. His huffing and puffing was so loud you worried he'd start to hyperventilate.

"Try to cool it before the cameras start, would you?" Big opened the door, turning to direct a pointed look Steve's way.

Steve, facing you but glaring over your head at the wall, turned sharply toward his coach. "Fuck you."

The door muffled Big's sigh, and you parroted the sound as Mikey disappeared behind him and Steve immediately ripped away from you. Your hands fell to your sides limply, chest squeezing tight.

"Steve—"

"—m' showering."

You took a small step after him toward the showers. "But—"

He stomped off, sneakers slapping on the damp tile. He disappeared around the corner, and you deflated in the center of the dressing room with a frown. When the stream of water hissed, you sank back down on the couch and waited, eyes aching and head pounding, a sour taste like acid in your mouth.

♡ ♡

Steve skipped the press conference. The press would call him a sore loser, his opponent would look like a gracious, genuine fighter, and his endorsements would call Mikey berating and scolding him for his client's actions.

But Steve didn't care. He couldn't face a crowd of reporters and paparazzi as a loser. A failure. He'd face them as a winner, or nothing at all.

They called him The King. His crown was starting to fall. You just wished he could step down from the throne every once in a while.

On the ride home, you reached for his hand and flinched when he flicked yours back into your lap. You searched for his eyes but met only the side of his face. Those hard cheekbones, purpled and blued; that swollen brow bone, torn at the corner and weeping red. His lip was fat and he kept running his tongue over the slit in the righthand corner. You knew he was reveling in the sting, bathing in the pain. He needed it when his fists started shaking like this.

Yet despite the visceral fury physically steaming off him, he was eerily...calm. Calm for Steve, calm for a man with a head as a hot as hell itself.

When Steve was silent like this, you knew a nightmare was brewing.

The car pulled in front of the hotel doors, and Steve yanked your door open with such monstrous force that you worried it would come right off the hinges. Some men had a Midas touch. Steve's was Herculean.

He was silent in the elevator, huffing only short, sharp breaths through his nose. He was silent through the hall, stomping with long, bounding strides. He was silent when he slammed the hotel door after you and tossed his duffel on the velvet chaise lounge near the bar. He was silent as he eased back against the black marble and crossed his arms.

You slowly slipped off your heels, hooking your fingers in the straps to bring them toward your luggage in the other room. You eyed him carefully as you passed him, breezing by in a whiff of sweet, citrusy perfume. The diamonds in your ears flashed his eye with a streak of white, catching the lamplight on the end table.

You were nearly to your destination when his gruff voice cut through the tender quiet.

"C'mere."

You paused, surprised just by the sound of his voice. You turned halfway, digesting his demand. Stern, rigid, empty. It mirrored his expression: emotionless. Your heels dangled near your thigh, fingers curling tighter around the straps.

Steve lifted his chin, eyes rolling away from the floor to fix steady on you. They held that heavy-hooded look you were always wary of. He had his fists tucked under his biceps, enlarging the bulging muscles, protruding the overworked veins. The thin black cotton stretched across his body strained.

Your cheeks flamed and your insides wriggled about the same way they do when he whispers in your ear. You stepped your legs a little closer to each other, tightening between your thighs.

"Steve, I—"

"—come. here."

You held his gaze, face half shadowed by the dark side of the room, brightened by the gentle lamplight on the other. His chest rose and fell steadily, and yours struggled with every inhale. He didn't twitch an inch, didn't move a muscle. The solidity to his steadiness always unnerved you. Right now, it made you want to take a bite of his bicep, where the skin was warm and firm and you knew it would taste like salty sweat.

Right now, the way he was staring at you like you had no other choice but to come to him—like he knew you would listen to him because he had such a deep, clawing, biblically powerful hold over you—made you want to devour him.

You dropped your heels on the carpet, where they landed with a muffled thud. You took small, breezy steps toward him. You felt like you were gliding. You felt so much smaller than you were, so minuscule and tiny under his pinning stare. You felt like he could cup you into his hands and crush you, and something about that thought made you tingle.

You came to a stop when your toes brushed his boots, sweaty sneakers discarded in his gym bag. Palms sticky at your sides, fingers grasping for the hem of your black dress, you tipped your head back to meet his gaze when he slipped one hand from under his arm and tucked it under your chin. Propped between his index and thumb, you let him tug you closer—urge you with just the gentlest of pressure. Your stomach pressed against his belt, and the way his head tipped to gaze down at you made your breath hitch.

Still resting against the marble, Steve seemed cool and eased as he bent to meet your mouth. You trembled on the tops of your toes, too impatient to wait for him to meet you, too desperate to find his lips and taste them. He'd never tell you, but he found it sweet, how mindlessly eager you got for even the smallest of his affections.

Your eyes sank closed when your mouths touched. Gently at first, but with an inch from Steve, his mouth molded against yours with a firmness most like his usual affections. A firmness unyielding, leaving no room for breath and no space for escape. But you were happily pliant to his hand spreading to hold your jaw in his wide palm, nearly sighing in relief when he finally switched from impassively cool to the Steve you knew:

Forceful. Mean. Rough.

His tongue swept your bottom lip like the tickle of a feather, though your giggle became a strangled whimper when his spare hand came to gather the hair at the nape of your neck. Free from confines and soft from hotel shampoo, it was a welcome feeling in his palm, and like he couldn't stop himself from reaching for more of it, he yanked. Fist curled tight against your scalp at the back of your head near your neck, he tugged just once—hard.

You popped away from his mouth with a wet smack and a scratchy whine, catching flashes of striped wallpaper before his mouth attached to your neck and sent you flying into blurriness. You held onto him for dear life, hands leaving splotchy white marks on his biceps. And just as you suspected: they were hot and soft, stiff and massive.

He latched onto the column of your throat with a suction like a vacuum, and you caught glimmers of starlight as he lapped and nipped. His teeth scraped the wet mark when he pulled away, and your body gave a convulsing shiver that, this time, made him exhale a chuckle against your skin. His nose slid through the slick spit, gliding across your throat and up your chin, brushing your cheek when he met your mouth again. His hand returned to your jaw to squeeze, the other still firmly planted in your hair. Your scalp began to buzz in a way that felt like a dead tingle.

The kiss was delicate this time. Careful, precise, like he was worried he'd break you. But Steve never worried about breaking you. He liked you that way. He loved how much you needed him to make sense of you.

Steve slowly pulled back, waiting until your eyes fluttered open and blinked at him with slow, breathless beats before rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen mouth. His own seemed a little larger, and as he tipped his head toward the light, you realized his lip had split open again with the force of his kiss. Your tongue immediately sought the remnants on your mouth, relieved to locate the metallic taste just past your bottom lip on your chin.

Steve's lip twitched at that.

"On the bed, baby." His voice was so soft that you were sure you'd fabricated it.

But then he let go of your hair and dropped his hands to his sides, and before he could blink in that expectant, impatient way, you spun around and hurried toward the bed. You were on your knees and about to reach for your zipper when Steve caught your wrists. It was the smack of skin on skin that made you freeze, catching his eye to find it empty again.

"Ah-ah," he scolded gruffly. "Hands down. I'll do it."

He released you and you obeyed, lowering your hands to your sides. Steve inched closer, and your head met his chest as he curled over the front of you to find the back. You inhaled quietly, searching for his scent. Muddled soap and heavy sweat, a cigarette smoked in the lot on the way to the cab. You brought your hands to his stomach and slipped them under his skirt, sweeping them across his muscular sides. He twitched, chuckling deeply despite himself against your neck. Your zipper snicked as it escaped your spine and fell to your tailbone, and your dress pooled in your lap as Steve stood tall again.

You tipped your head back to gaze at him, cheeks swollen with heat and lip caught between your teeth. Your hands were still under his shirt, still gripping him like a toy. He gave you it, pulling his shirt over his head with a tug of the back collar. It flew across the room in a dash of black fabric, and then you were gazing at his lean-cut muscles peppered with black and blue and a few fading greens. His stomach flexed when you brought your fingers to circle the nearest bruise, a grunt balling in his throat.

You returned both hands to his sides, right above his belt. Leaning forward on your knees, you pressed your mouth to the warm patch of skin where blood pooled and painted him colorful. You puckered a gentle kiss. Steve swallowed, jeans tightening. Mouth still pressed against him, you lifted your eyes to gauge his expression and he felt like he could burst.

His hands slid into your hair, pushing your head back with a grip on both sides. You rubbed your thumbs into his muscles, massaging the strain.

"Does it hurt?"

He eased his grip on the right side of your face and brushed your hair behind your ear. He stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles, head cocking toward his shoulder. The scabs of a bare-knuckle practice scratched the skin on your face in the nicest way. He still smelled like blood.

"I like it to," he said.

You pushed off on your heels, nose brushing his chin as you inched closer to his height. He slid your hair over your shoulder to bare your neck, placing the breeze of his knuckles there.

"Me too."

Steve's eyes snapped away from your neck toward your own, a brief flash of surprise seeping through the brutish void. When you gnawed on your lip and danced your fingers over the firm leather of his belt, he let the surprise slip away as swiftly as it came.

In its place came the animalistic need to tear you apart.

He pushed your hands away without a word, and you sank back down to your heels on the mattress, watching with round, welled up eyes as he undid his belt. The buckle clinked and hung loose at his pelvis. The zipper snicked. The denim of his jeans whooshed down his legs. In only his boxers, tight against him and leaving nothing to the imagination, he resumed his hold on your face to direct your attention back to his eyes.

He pulled at the sleeve of your dress hanging limply in your lap. "Off."

You made quick work of discarding the fabric, sliding it down your legs and throwing it away. Steve snapped your bra strap next, and you bent your arms behind your back to unhook the band. All he had to do was flicker his eyes toward your panties for you to remove those, too.

When you were naked, you waited a beat. A moment of such palpable silence that you were certain he'd hear your heart beating. With the way your blood started rushing to your ears, pumping with such forceful gushes and thumps, you could barely hear anything over it yourself.

Then you reached for his bulge, aching and waiting, unable to contain yourself. Once more he grabbed your wrist, holding your touch away from him. You reached with the other hand, happy to play his game. He grabbed that one, too, and soon he had you right where he wanted.

Though, not quite.

He slammed you against the mattress on your back. Pinned by his hold on your arms, flattened by his weight pressing down on you. Your heart moved to your throat, throbbing wildly. Your legs instinctually parted to make room for him between them.

Steve searched between your eyes, bouncing between left and right, inhaling your every exhale. When he saw nothing but bliss, he slid your arms above your head and crossed your wrists together. Gripping them in one big palm, he used the other hand to mark a path down your side that had you squirming and shivering. You giggled when he circled your navel, only to gasp when he swept two fingers down your pelvis.

He knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew every route to take. He knew the shortcuts that would bring you to your fastest peak. He knew the long, winding paths that would make you whine and cry and beg him to cut you a break.

He knew you.

Just like you knew him, and how much he needed to be the biggest in the room. How much he needed this power over you, this control over you. Sometimes, he traveled too far. Sometimes, your favorite thing in the world was when he took over the wheel.

You wanted his control. You needed it.

Steve gently guided the tips of those two fingers between your legs, pushing just gently past the warm, squishy barrier. You sucked him in, mouth unhinging with another gasp when he sank the length of his fingers in entirely. The grip you had on him was tight, and your thighs were already shaking when he brought his thumb to your clit, beating and pulsing with want for his attention.

"You like it to hurt," he whispered, eyes sliding briefly toward your bare chest before your eyes again.

You bobbed your head, face so hot it hurt. "Yes."

"Do you want it to hurt, angel?"

"Please."

Steve didn't let you wait, and for this you were grateful. His hair tickled your cheek, his breath fanned your neck, and then his mouth was clamping onto the patch of tender muscle between your shoulder and neck. His teeth sank in, delivering a dull sting that made you shriek. He pulled away when you began to pant.

He moved his mouth to your breast, fingers loosening around your wrists. He sank into the squishy fat, gathering a chunk of it between his teeth. It stung a little sharper, hurt a little better. You cried out this time, and he pumped his fingers in a gentle push and pull as he moved to the other breast. You could barely suck in a breath.

Wet patches caught gusts of cool air as he maneuvered over your body, covering you in his mouth and leaving you with his teethmarks to prove it. He released your wrists, but your head was so fuzzy and full of air that you didn't even think to move them. Steve wanted them there. You wanted what Steve wanted.

Steve clamped down on your waist, following the valley of your curves. You jerked the other way, body instinctually recoiling. He bit into your hip, then your thigh, then your stomach, then the thin skin just above your pelvis. He had you covered in him and writhing for more, cheeks soaked with tears he was certain you didn't even know were shed.

Face pinched and pooling with red-hot heat, you gasped for air and arched off the bed. Steve's fingers worked deeper between your legs. His thumb rubbed with the firmest pressure in just the right spot. You stomped your feet against the mattress and whined, long and howling.

"Steeeeve."

It burned, he could tell. He could tell by the way you trembled and closed your legs around his hands. He could tell by the way you blinked tears to the ceiling, how you balled your hands into fists—still above your head. You couldn't hold steady and you looked close to nausea.

Steve settled on his knees between your legs, free hand smoothing over your wobbling thigh. He loomed over you with an empty expression, taking in your bare body and his mouth branding nearly every inch of it.

Just as you lifted your back again, hands flying down to grip the mattress in preparation for the orgasm winding a knot behind your navel, Steve ripped his fingers away. You cried—a pitiful, pathetic, snot-filled sob that sliced through the room and made Steve huff.

But Steve had mercy on you. He replaced his fingers with something better, and your cry dwindled to short sniffles as the head of his cock breached your throbbing entrance. He slid your thighs over his, pulled you down until you were forcing half of him in. You howled again, head tipping back, hands reaching for his. You found them on your waist, gripping in a vice.

With slow and steady caution, Steve eased between your legs and mounted over you once more. He propped himself on his forearms, caged on either side of your shoulders to squish your arms against your sides. There was nowhere for you to run. You were inching close to orgasm again already just at the thought.

Steve cupped his palm over the crown of your head and leaned in until his nose brushed your own. His thumb pressed against your forehead, his breath tickled your open, shining mouth. You could see the blood gathering on his lip again. It wobbled there, at the split seam of soft tissue. It glistened and, in your foggy, fucked-out mind: it called to you.

You swept it up with your tongue, sucking with a gentle pull that made Steve's seem cruel. But even that delicate, meek suction had him groaning, had him bucking into you wildly. You released him and he followed the metallic scent of your breath, thanking you for his brief sting with a nip on your bottom lip.

'Hurt me, so I can hurt you.'

And squished under him, taking every assault of teeth and lapping up the blood, you found something in pain you never knew was possible: peace.

A simple, mindless transaction. I hurt you, you hurt me. This is how we say I love you.

Hurt me. So I can hurt you.

Steve pressed your heads together, rutting into you so deep you almost thought you could feel him in your throat. But maybe that was just more tears, pooling and lumping until you couldn't swallow past it. So you released it, weeping in a way that had Steve kissing your hot, sticky cheeks just to ease the hysteria. But he wanted those tears, and he basked in how they tasted on his mouth.

In one final effort, one last turn toward his destination, Steve reared back just enough to bring his hand down on your ass, thigh hitched over his hip to bare it to him. It slammed down with a sharp clap, delivering a sting that spread like wildfire and reverberated through your thighs and spine.

It was exactly what you needed to shatter. It sent you stumbling, clinging to Steve like you'd fall apart without him holding you steady. You weren't entirely sure that was false. You whimpered into his neck, fingers buzzing against his back. You sounded so pathetic, sniffling and hiccuping like that. Steve kissed your jaw and caught a glimpse of the blotchy bruise he left on your neck. You'd be stuck with it for days.

Steve spilled into you, raw and warm, sticky and disgusting. He brushed his nose against your bruise and felt it throb. He ran his thumb over the red shape of his mouth on your hip as he slipped from between your legs. He brushed his hair back against his head and licked the blood from his split lip. His knuckles had broken open and stained the white sheets near your head.

On sore thighs and wobbling knees, Steve settled between your limp legs once more and gazed down at the mess he made. He brushed your hair from your eyes and cradled your cheek. Still catching your breath, you leaned into his hold with heady exhaustion, placing your hand over his. You'd be just as bruised as Steve tomorrow morning, and you'd marvel in the mirror at the pretty colors he painted you with.

And the best thing about it? Steve wasn't hurting anymore. He gave it all to you.

♡ ♡

#rolly! #boxer!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #joe keery #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #dark steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery fic

[erin-bo-berin]

OMGG YES please do thigh riding with Steve 😩

Oh man I’ve waited too long to write this one 👀 Expect it to be dirty and dirtier.

Make It Fast

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: Smut

It was never a good idea to leave you and Steve alone together. Especially, when as of lately, you’d been acting like a cat in heat.

Situated in the Wheeler’s basement, you were horny as fuck for your boyfriend. Thankfully, the kids had accompanied Robin and Eddie to go pick up lunch, arguing the entire way out about what type of food to get.

Unfortunately for you, you had half an hour or less alone with Steve until who knew when. Which is why you’d practically jumped him the moment you heard the front door close. It also explained why you were currently in his lap, making out with him like your life depended on it.

It was one of those kisses that went from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. Apparently, eager to get you alone too, his tongue slid into your mouth with one stroke, teasing your own. You were wound up, body tight and eager for some sort of pleasure.

One of his hands squeezed your boob through your shirt causing you to moan into the kiss. His other hand slid up your skirt, over your bare thigh, reaching between your legs to cup your pussy through your underwear.

You’d been aching for him for hours and now the heated kissing and groping were putting you in a worse state. You clit was swollen with desire and throbbing and his touch against you was electrifying.

“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he murmured, amazed.

His palm left you and you whined, needing friction badly as he sucked on your jaw, tongue sliding over the area he’d been focused on.

You didn’t plan it, but your body started rocking against him, your core dragging along his jean clad thigh. The rough material of his jeans was amazing friction against your clit and you sighed, hips dragging slowly back and forth.

“Fuck,” he cursed, pulling you into another heated kiss.

Your hands tangled into his hair, him swallowing your moans and whimpers. You broke away with a gasp when his hands grabbed your ass, guiding your body as you continued grinding on his thigh.

Your breasts were heavy, your breathing labored as your riled up body desperately wanted a release and Steve was more than happy to help you find it. He sat back, lips red from kissing, gaze lust filled as he watched you, dazed.

“That’s right baby, rub your wet pussy against me,” he drawled.

You had to smother a deep groan at his words. Honestly, people would be shocked at how dirty of a mouth this boy had. But, that was your little secret.

Your hands rested on his chest as he left hot kisses along your neck, guiding you back and forth over the same spot of his jeans. You were so wet you were sure you’d soaked through your underwear and left your mark on his pants.

He tensed and un-tensed the muscle of his thigh, adding a new sensation and your lips parted, a breathy moan leaving your mouth.

“Steve, fuck baby,” you moaned.

You were on sensory overload between his taut thigh and seam of his jeans rubbing against you deliciously, his eager mouth on your neck, one hand on your ass and the other now kneading your boob through your shirt. It was pure ecstasy.

“Feel good?” he whispered against your overheated skin.

“Yes,” you croaked.

You made yourself stay focused long enough for your hand to cup the arousal in his pants. He was a fucking saint because you wouldn’t have been able to hold out this long if you were him.

He let out an anguished moan at your touch, especially when your nails raked over the material, hard enough for his throbbing cock to feel. He hissed at the teasing, but you gave him a reprieve. You rubbed him harder, earning another appreciative noise from him.

“Sweetheart,” he heaved, trying to control himself, “I’m gonna cum in my fucking pants if you keep that up.”

As much as you’d rather him cum inside of you, you didn’t have that kind of time. So you had to take what you could get.

“Kinda the point, Steve,” you smirked, palm gliding over him.

Just for that remark, he squeezed your ass, trying to reprimand you, but only succeeded in getting you hotter.

“If you’re gonna cum, then you better do it fast, darling,” he breathed, holding you closer to him, arms wrapping around you, “I don’t know how much time we have.”

You were close. So fucking close. Each pass of your pussy against his toned thigh was sending you closer to the edge of the cliff and your body was buzzing.

His cheeks were flushed and he looked so damn fuckable right now that you wished so badly you had more time to have your way with him. Your lips captured his in a desperate kiss as you felt your body tense, preparing for the release that was imminent. Your hand rubbed him harder and you gave a gentle squeeze as you felt yourself surrender to your orgasm.

You broke the kiss, hips still bucking and moving and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, moaning his name as you came. He cursed, the gravely, strained one syllable word hot in your ears as his hips bucked into your hand and he finished in his pants.

You had been so worked up you hadn’t even thought of the consequences. After this, he was going to have to deal with what you were sure was a decent sized wet spot on the crotch of his jeans. Definitely not a sign of what you two had been up to, nope.

Your breathing was ragged, his hand on your lower back as you raised your head to peak at the spot your hand had vacated and sure enough, there was the tell tale evidence. You chuckled softly, not regretting it, but also feeling bad for leaving him in this predicament.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” your muttered, placing a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Well it was either this or sit with a boner for hours on end,” he mused, “Jesus, that was hot.”

You smirked, sitting up right again, kissing him properly on the lips, definitely agreeing with him.

You broke away quickly when footsteps upstairs alerted you of the others return.

“You are going to be my cover,” Steve said, repositioning you so you were sitting, covering the noticeable stain.

When you got comfortable, you turned around to look at him, mystified at your sudden discovery.

“How are you already hard again?!” you whispered since the footsteps were getting closer to the basement door.

He smirked as he snaked his arms around you from behind, cocking his head at you.

“It’s gonna be a while before I get the picture from earlier out of my mind.”

There was a knowing glint in Steve’s eyes and you knew he would be dragging you out of here as soon as he possibly could.

You didn’t have the chance to respond though because there were multiple pairs of feet stomping down the stairs.

“Food’s here!” Eddie called.

“We got pizza, hope that’s okay,” Robin said.

The group flooded into the room, heading straight for the piping hot pizza boxes that were set down on the coffee table.

“So, what have you guys been up to?” Dustin asked, pulling a slice of pepperoni out of the box, forgoing a plate.

“Oh, you know, just watching some TV,” Steve said nonchalantly.

“How come the TV isn’t on then?” Dustin asked, bemused.

Steve hid his smirk behind his hand and you sat on his lap, feeling his now prominent boner pressing into your backside. Without any control of the action, your thighs squeezed together in anticipation.

Ah, fuck. You smothered a sigh of exasperation.

Now you were horny again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things blurb #stranger things smut

[flowercrowngods]

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 07: free space a happy ending

Wakefulness embraces him so slowly and gently that Steve’s not entirely sure he isn’t dreaming when he sees Eddie lying next to him, watching him with an easy smile as his fingers tap out a slow beat on his pillow. Steve looks at him, blinking away the remnants of sleep, not quite daring to do anything more than that for fear of it being a dream after all, scared that Eddie would disappear if Steve reached out to touch. 

But then Eddie’s smile widens. “Good morning, sunshine.” 

Steve gasps a little and moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, his breath hitching when Eddie leans into the touch. 

“You’re here,” he whispers, his gaze wandering over Eddie’s features, taking it all in and looking for any indication that this is a dream. 

Eddie hums. “And you’re pretty.” 

It hits him out of nowhere, the open sincerity in Eddie’s voice, the fondness in his eyes, the honesty in everything about him. The love, open and free now — or getting there, at least. It’s still so raw, though, so new, that Steve doesn’t know how to handle it yet. 

“Shut up,” he huffs once he’s caught his breath, rolling over to hide his face and the way his cheeks are heating up. He rolls right into Eddie's chest, though, and he's so warm, so close, smells so good that Steve wants nothing more than to bury his face in his neck and stay there for the rest of the morning. Or maybe the rest of his life.

The reflex to pull away is there. The urge to run and hide, to laugh it off, to freeze up and find something else to do, something to occupy his hands and stop them from reaching for Eddie. Years and years of muscle memory telling Steve to leave. 

But Eddie's arms come around him, holding him close and pulling him even closer. And Steve breathes him in, remembering that it can be okay. Remembering that they get a chance now. 

Remembering the words. 

What are you doing? 

Changing the world. 

So he tries that, too. Changing the world. He tries by winding his arms around Eddie, too, and breathing in again and again, learning that Eddie won't disappear if he does. 

Slowly, he dares to move his arms, stroking along Eddie's back in slow, gentle patterns, lulling himself into a safety he hasn't felt in a while. Maybe ever. At some point Eddie begins to hum, and Steve thinks that it's just another one of his audible smiles, inviting Steve and the rest of the world to join in if they're so inclined. But then he detects a familiar melody in the vibrations of Eddie's neck against his skin, and he holds his breath to find out what it is. 

His heart jumps when he recognises the song as one he used to listen to on repeat like a lovesick fool around the time his feelings for Eddie turned into something more, something better, something infinitely worse. 

It skips and he forgets how to breathe as he lets his hands travel over Eddie's back, slowly and tentatively daring to slip underneath his shirt and touch his skin. 

Eddie begins to sing, then, and Steve wonders if he's even been in love with him before, because nothing of what he's ever felt compares to Eddie's gentle, hoarse, sleep-rough voice as he sings Somebody to Steve, to their little bubble, or to the world outside. 

"I want somebody to share, share the rest of my lifeShare my innermost thoughts, know my intimate details."

He closes his eyes as he listens, focusing on the vibrations, on the warmth, on the closeness, on how this moment is everything he's never even dared to want. Everything so perfect that he couldn't even dream it up. 

Everything. You're everything. 

He needs to be closer still, so be buries his nose in Eddie's neck and breathes him in, tangling their legs, filled with a breathless kind of joyful bliss when Eddie's breath hitches, too, and he stumbles over the words of the second verse as Steve tries to climb into his skin. 

"I want somebody who cares for me passionatelyWith every thought and with every breath."

You have me, Steve thinks, pressing his lips to Eddie's pulse point. It's not a kiss, not quite. It's something deeper. It's a promise. 

Eddie's hands come up to hold him there even as his voice carries through the drumbeat of Steve's heart in his throat, running fingers through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp, making him purr along to the melody. 

"But when I'm asleep I want somebodyWho will put their arms around me and kiss me tenderlyThough things like this make me sickIn a case like this, I'll get away with it."

When the song ends, Eddie's words faded out, replaced once again by the gentlest silence, Steve feels raw. Vulnerable. Open and exposed. But he also feels safe, and loved, buried in Eddie's skin and held there, as though Eddie is just as scared of fading away as Steve is. 

He lifts his head just slightly, enough to meet Eddie's eyes – only to find that they're closed, an expression so serene like Steve has never seen before. Mesmerised and overflowing with affection, he reaches out to trace the line of his brows, down to his cheeks and all the way to his lips, where his eyes are glued for a second. 

The thought of kissing Eddie is right there. The opportunity is, too. But he doesn't. He barely dares to move as it is. But he does roll them over the rest of the way until he lies comfortably on top of Eddie, and tucks his head underneath his chin, finding one of his hands and lacing their fingers. 

"You've got him," he breathes eventually. "That somebody. If you—“ 

"Yes," Eddie says, his other hand finding its way to the nape of Steve's neck to play with his hair again. "I want."

"Good." It's lame; far from what he wants to say. From what he has already said last night. It feels like they're doing this backwards, starting with the I love you and catching up with the slow build-up afterwards. "Good. Me, too." 

"Good," Eddie hums, and there's that smile again that Steve can't help but mirror. 

They fall asleep again like that even though it’s already late in the morning; cuddling and holding and cradling each other, still trembling slightly. Maybe that's what changing the world will do to you. Maybe that's the bravery more than the love. 

Or maybe it's just Steve and Eddie. Steve and Eddie. SteveandEddie. 

I love you. 

~*~

It takes a bit for Steve to relearn loving Eddie. To not associate it with tragedy and sadness and a bone-deep loneliness that'll leave him breathless even on the best of days. 

It takes a while for Steve to learn a whole new kind of breathlessness, a whole new kind of aching when it comes to Eddie. 

And Eddie's not much better than Steve, pulling away when Steve wants him closer, swallowing his words and needing a second, third, fourth try until he learns that he gets to love Steve now. 

Years of unrequited love, or feelings unreturned, of words put out into the universe with no one to receive them, are not easily or quickly unwritten. But every time Steve's breath gets lodged in his throat and he wants to run away, Eddie is right there to remind him of what they can have now. Every time Steve tries to be a little less of who he really is, Eddie is right there to coax him out of his head with gentle touch and a lot of hugs. 

Every time Eddie starts to doubt himself and all the ways he makes Steve the happiest person on the planet, Steve is right there with the words he only has for Eddie. Words that don't get stuck anymore. Words that finally get a recipient. 

~*~

Their first kiss, the first real kiss, doesn't happen that first morning. They spend the first week only holding each other, barely wanting to let go, hiding their vulnerabilities within each other. 

Steve is worried about it at first, seeing Eddie so quiet, so reverent, lacking his usual cheer, his energy and snarky comments. He asks about it one night, ready to prove right that he isn't and can never be enough for him, that all he will do is steal the things that make him Eddie. 

Eddie stops then, lifting Steve's chin with a finger when he's too scared, too ashamed, too vulnerable to meet his eyes on his own accord. 

"Stevie," Eddie says, his voice so gentle that Steve immediately feels stupid for doubting. "I have loved you for ten years. I've had you for three days. Let me bask in it. Let me be unable to be myself with how absolutely and utterly overcome I am with the knowledge that I have you now. That I get to hold you. That I get to kiss you and keep you and... God. I'm not unhappy. I'm so much the opposite of that that I'm not sure there's a word for it. Other than devoted. Smitten. Bewitched, body and soul."

Steve wants to kiss him then. Almost does, with the way they're just staring at each other, breathing the same air —air that smells like Eddie now. In the end, Eddie just holds him, brushing a kiss to his cheek, his forehead, his temple, and whispers, "Let me bask in it." 

And so they do. 

Wayne called Eddie not long after with the words, "Chrissy just told me the wedding's off. Please tell me that means what I think it means." 

Eddie just blushed, reaching for Steve, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. "Yeah, I, uh. I finally talked to Steve."

There was a very loud cheer on the other end that made Steve laugh, falling into Eddie's side, holding him tight, a weight falling off his shoulders knowing that Wayne was okay with them. 

You know, I always figured it would be you. 

No matter what happens, you'll always be a son to me.

It made his eyes sting again, but he basked in the moment and in the knowledge that Wayne was on their side. Always has been, always will be. 

"You better come here on Sunday, and bring Robin and Chrissy, too." 

"Robs and Chrissy?" Eddie asked. 

"Oh, you're in for a treat. I'll see your asses on Sunday, boys." 

And with that, he hung up. Steve immediately went to call Robin, hopeful and giddy with Wayne's implication, knowing that Chrissy was Robin's person just like Eddie was his. 

"She loves me," Robin said, on the verge of tears, and Steve joined here right then and there. "She's– Steve. She's so– She... God!" 

"Yeah," Steve laughed at the ceiling above his bed, grinning because Robin sounded so happy, not even caring that she didn't have the right words for it, because he could hear Chrissy laughing in the background, too. Laughing and saying hi to him and interrupting Robin's ramblings and groans and giggles with kisses that always left her dumbstruck for a good two seconds each time. 

When the call ended, he went right back to the living room, where he and Eddie started watching Pride and Prejudice before, and fell right on top of him with a happy, happy smile. 

~*~

It happens at Wayne's, exactly one week after Eddie showed up at Steve's in the middle of the night. One week after the phone call. One week after I love you. 

It happens in the soft glow of the fairy lights Steve and Eddie helped him put up years ago. I happens after Wayne hugged him tight once more, after he pulled Chrissy to the side and promised her that she's still his kid, that he still loves her, and that he's happy to see her smile like that. After he promised the same to Robin.

It happens when Wayne's inside to refill their drinks and Chrissy and Robin are caught up in each other that they're blind and deaf to the rest of the world. When Steve turns to find Eddie looking at him with the softest, gentlest expression. 

"Eddie," he whispers, leaning in to rest their heads together, lacing their fingers and stroking his thumb along Eddie's palm.

"Yeah, baby?" 

Baby. It fills him with butterflies, with the urge to scream, to shout from all the rooftops that he loves Eddie, and more importantly, that Eddie loves him back! Baby. Baby.

"I love you." 

"Hmm. I love you more." 

No, you don't. Just longer. "Can I kiss you?" 

He can feel Eddie's little gasp before he leans in even closer, rubbing their noses together, cradling Steve's face with his free hand. "Please," he whispers. 

And Steve does. He captures Eddie's lips, pouring into it everything he feels and more. Sealing the promises he's made and all the ones he's yet to make. The promises to love and cherish Eddie. To be brave. To be there. To stay and keep and bask. 

It's nothing like their first kiss all those years ago. There is no question behind it this time. Only declarations, only promises, only the beginning of a shared future. 

And there are many, many more after this one.

🌷🤍🌷 THE END 🌷🤍🌷

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar @scheodingers-muppet @morcantinon @hexdbog @homosexualhomocide13

god i can't believe it's over. i thank you, every one of you, who cheered for me, cried with me, screamed and yelled at me, and stayed with me throughout this past week. i have no words right now other than thank you 🤍🌷 and i hope this is okay

#steddie #steddie fic #steddieweek2023 #steddie week fic #i feel like this one's a bit disjointed but i kinda like that about it?? little snippets that make a happy ending you know?? #idk i hope you like it too (i always get anxious about endings tbh catch me vibrating out of my skin) #dio words #i cannot believe it is done. i cannot believe what a ride it's been. i'll find the words for it later i think. first we read. and we bask 🤍 #morcantinon i am ENDLESSLY sorry i forgot to tag you even after you sent that wonderful ask please forgive me 😭🤍 #i also forget a bunch of people who asked in the reblogs but dear god i hope you find this anyway i am all over the place #i will edit this and work in more chrissy/robin when i post it to ao3. but this is steddie week. and these are 15k words of an au #that happened spontaneously and within 2h each night of me flying by the seat of my pants. xD

[succubusmunson]

thoughts about deep-throating steve?

omg yes yes yes! (this isn’t proofread, so apologies for mistakes!)

warnings: oral (m receiving), slight sub!steve, pet names

—————

steve had always wanted you to deepthroat him, even ached for it, but he never pushed your limits. he was always sweet, only doing what you were comfortable with. no girls ever really could fit all of his cock in their mouths, not when he was as huge as he was.

tonight, you took him by surprise, though. you got on your knees in front of him and ran slow hands up and down his jean-clad thighs. the higher you went with your touches, the more his cock jumped in his pants.

“baby, what are you doing?” he looked down at you, and even though he was taken aback by the eagerness of your hands, he couldn’t deny how hot it was seeing you like this.

“me?” you popped the button of his jeans and slowly slid down the zipper far enough for you to reach your hand in. you ran your fingers along his half-hard cock and smirked to yourself when he let out a low groan. “i’m gonna do what you always wanted me to do.”

“wait, you don’t have t- oh fuuuuck.” steve threw his head back the second your warm hand reached below his boxers and wrap around his cock. “a-are you sure?”

you looked him in the eyes, biting your lip as you nodded. “i’m very sure.”

by the time you had pulled his jeans and boxers down, his cock was rock hard and slapped against his happy trail, smearing precum.

you didn’t want to waste anymore time. you grabbed the base of his cock and peppered kisses up and down it before letting your tongue lick at the leaking tip. steve’s hands immediately flew to your hair, digging his fingers to the roots to get a good grip.

“such pretty lips,” he looked down at you, his eyes already hooded from having your lips on him.

your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on it and swirled your tongue around it.

steve wanted to push his cock deeper in your mouth, you could tell by the buck of his hips.

“go ahead,” you pull away long enough to talk. “you can let go, baby.”

“i don’t want to hurt you.” he cupped your cheek.

you kissed his palm, letting your tongue stick out to lick his salty skin. “you won’t, i promise.”

before he knew it, your lips were wrapped back around his cock, looking up at him with full permission.

steve took your words and ran with him. his hands held your hands still as he bucked his hips up. the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat, causing you to gag and your eyes to water.

“shit- again?” he looked down at you with pleading eyes, “please?”

you nodded as much as you could with his cock in tour mouth, morning around him as he throbbed against your tongue.

again, his hips thrusted, pushing his cock further into your throat. each time you gagged around steve’s cock, he groaned and tightened the hold on your head.

drool was dripping down your chin, makeup smeared across your face. steve looked down at you were hearts in his eyes, he’s never seen such a beautiful sight.

“that’s it, holy fuck.” steve’s eyes fluttered shut as you swallowed around him, your throat bobbing. “feels so goddamn good.”

you raked your nails down his hairy thighs, leaving red marks in their wake as you slowly bobbed your head up and down.

steve’s stomach muscles tightened as you took the rest of his cock in your mouth. your nose was now buried in the curly patch of hair at the base of his cock and his balls were wetly pressed against your chin.

“gonna cum in that pretty mouth,” he pulled your head back by your hair and took over, thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. “be a good girl and take it all.”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic

[crappymixtape]

endless summer

steve’s pool is always full during the indiana summers and he loves his friends, but he just wants you • *18+ only | (  2.8k, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader  )

E N D L E S S S U M M E R 🎶 i would die 4 u, art school girlfriend

“Hey, hey. None of that shit in my pool!” Steve was standing on the deck with a hand on his hip, arm waving about as he yelled at Dustin and Lucas who were dragging a half-empty pizza box closer to the edge of the pool.

“We’re hungry!” Dustin protested indignantly.

“Yeah, so hungry,” Lucas added, still dragging along the pizza box slowly as if Steve wouldn’t catch him.

“No, no, no. Get that outta here,” Steve was already around the other side of the pool and snatching the box away from Lucas’ grabby hands, tossing it up onto the patio table. “Children,” he shook his head at both younger boys.

Whatever, was mumbled back to Steve followed by a couple of hidden middle fingers, but the heat was enough to stall any real arguing and before long everyone slipped back into the cool water, lazily floating in the hot Indiana summer.

No one knew what day of the week it was, you only knew when you had to work next – not today – and time didn’t matter. All anyone wanted to do was spend time with each other, normal time, not running-away-from-flesh-eating-bats-time, and it felt perfect. You wished you could stay like this forever.

Stretched out on a lounger, you were the picture of summer wearing a tangerine bikini, a stolen pair of Steve’s aviators, and camped out next to a cooler full of beer and Coke. Whenever you felt your skin protesting against the sun you’d jump into the pool to cool off, but hurried right back to your chair after.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will had spent most of the day trying to shove Max and El in the water, but were thwarted almost every time. I mean, c’mon, it’s El. Like she could’t sense it? Robin and Eddie found their little patch of shade under the only tree in the backyard and passed a joint back and forth until their eyes were glassy and heavy, lips permanently curved into lazy smiles. And Steve? Well. What Steve wanted to be doing and what he was actually doing were two very different things.

He couldn’t help his lifeguard instincts around the pool, sniping at the kids over all kinds of shit – out of love, obviously – but every single time he turned away it was to look at you.

You. Wearing his sunglasses. Your tangerine bikini hugging your curves just right, not leaving much to the imagination. The scent of your coconut sunscreen and citrus shampoo mixed with chlorine and Cherry Coke teasing him every time he walked by, it was almost painful.

Then, finally, the others hauled themselves out of the pool, tired from the heat and shoving each around and playing chicken and summer. You grinned watching as Mike and Lucas both sleepily settled their heads into El’s and Max’s laps atop their towels. Dustin and Will were off talking about Suzie and their next D&D campaign. And Robin and Eddie…well. They were there, but not there, and Steve had picked up the pool net to scoop out the few stray bits of crap the others had dragged into the water.

God. It was like he existed for summer. Like he was made for it. His skin all golden, kissed by the sun and dotted in freckles. Hair, just a touch lighter than it was in the winter, hanging across his dewy forehead. The muscles in his arms tensing and relaxing as he pushed and pulled the pool net through the water. Turquoise swim shorts dripping water, plip plip plip on the patio, clinging to his legs. Sunglasses perched on his head so that he couldn’t hide it if he snuck glances of you over there wearing his aviators.

You could feel his gaze wander up your long legs, your thighs, the soft curve of your hips, that damn tangerine top. And when you lifted a hand to take off your glasses, the grin you gave him was almost cruel. “Looking for something, Harrington?” you called across the patio.

Despite his tanned skin, the flush that rose in his cheeks could be seen from where you were sitting. “What?” fell out of his mouth, dumb in the summer sun, and he propped himself up against the pool skimmer, clearly caught. But then he recovered, just so very Steve. “Just admiring the view,” he gave you a grin of his own and it was your turn to blush.

Biting in your lower lip you put his aviators aside and smirked. “Nice day, hm?” you snarked, swinging your legs over the side of the lounger to stand.

“Oh, definitely a heat advisory in effect,” Steve teased back, discarding the skimmer on the patio at his feet, finally unable to keep himself away from you any longer.

Walking with a purpose he closed the gap between the two of you and took your face in his hands and pressed a heady kiss to your mouth, catching your lower lip between his. You tasted like popsicles and Cherry Coke.

“What was that for?” you murmured against his lips, his hands still holding onto your cheeks as your hands wandered up to rest on his chest.

“For not eating pizza in the pool,” he grinned against you as he went in for another kiss and then leaned in close, his lips to your ear, “I forgot something inside.”

It was so hot, the sun beating down on both of you, but you shivered at his words as goosebumps trailed along your neck. Laughing you tilted your head so that you could meet his gaze and when your eyes met your grin softened and fell. Steve’s eyes. Deep pools of caramel swimming with tiny flecks of hazel and gold. Long brown lashes sweeping his cheeks. Steve. He only had eyes for you.

“I’ll come with you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you felt a heat rising in your core that had absolutely nothing to do with the hot Indiana sun, and without hesitation his hand was tangling with yours, pulling you through the slider door and up the stairs.

Steve kicked the door shut as you both tumbled into his room and he caught your lips in another kiss before pressing more down your jaw, your neck, to the little hollow behind your ear.

It was hot, the air in his room upstairs was warm and thick and his hands were everywhere all at once. Wandering across the small of your back, trailing the length of your arms, tugging your hips into his. It all made you dizzy, but you kept up.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you spun him around and pushed him down onto his bed. His eyes went wide for a split second, surprised at the show of confidence, but he came back down from it and grinned up at you. “So damn pretty,” he murmured and you knew he meant it.

“I could say the same to you,” you purred before diving down against him, your bodies finally pressing together, skin meeting skin around your bikini and his trunks. It felt electric. You’d both wanted nothing more after watching each other in the heat, dripping with the glittering turquoise of the pool, longing to look, to touch, to feel.

A groan escaped him as you trailed kisses along his shoulder and up against his stubbled jaw before settling your mouth on his, lightly pulling on his lower lip.

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he mumbled, fingers fumbling with the tie of your top, cinched snug against your body. As it came undone it fell down onto his chest and he stopped short, hands holding onto your waist for dear life. He looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. You were the only thing that existed in that moment. “Damn,” it was almost reverent, in awe of you. Every curve, every dip, the very softness of you.

Giving him a small smile you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear, and simply whispered his name. Pulling back the look you gave him shattered any kind of control he’d been grasping onto and he loosed a heavy breath.

In one fell swoop Steve lifted you off of him easily, tossing you down on the bed before bringing his needy mouth to your sun kissed skin again, body meeting yours. You could feel him against you, could feel much he wanted you, and the heat pooling between your legs told you you wanted him just as much.

Steve bit your shoulder gently and he smirked when you sucked in a gasp. “Shit,” you hissed, half laughing half moaning at the kisses he started trailing down your chest and along the soft curve of your breasts.

His face moved down your body, mouth touching every bit of you he could, and then he paused and flicked his eyes up to look at you. “What?” his tongue ran along his lower lip as he grinned, knowing full well what he was doing to you.

Brow furrowing you propped yourself up on your elbows and opened your mouth to reply, but it promptly clamped shut when he slipped his mouth over your nipple, eliciting another moan from your lips. Your head fell back against the sheets as your hands moved to tangle in his hair. “Want you,” was all you could manage, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat.

“I know,” Steve’s voice was low, rough, and the grin he’d given you was long gone, pupils blown wide – fuck, he wanted you too. He pushed himself up for only as long as it took to yank his trunks off, his fingers deftly untying your bikini bottoms before tugging them out from under your ass and throwing them unceremoniously to the floor.

Standing at the edge of the bed he stopped and took in the vision you were, all soft curves and tan lines and freckles. Coconut sunscreen and cherry red lips. He leaned forward and ran his hands up your calves, hooking his palms behind your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed as he knelt down. Steve couldn’t take his eyes away from yours even as his hands moved to spread your legs apart, thumbs pressing into your thighs.

His fingers swept inward, slipping against the slick between your legs and you saw his eyes flutter closed for a second as he touched you, felt you, jaw clenching as he groaned, “So wet baby, is that for me?”

“Mhmm,” your mumbled yes was tangled up with another moan as he slipped first one finger then two inside of you, his thumb taking up a slow, languid pace as it traced circles over your clit. Steve was so good to you. Took care of you. You came first, always.

He easily found a rhythm as his fingers slipped in and out, in and out, in and out. It was wrecking you and as he picked up the pace your whimpers grew to moans despite biting down on your bottom lip. “You’re so good, baby,” he pressed kisses to your inner thigh, “Want you to come for me.”

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, like a hummingbird caught in your ribcage, frantic and seeking release. One hand still tangled in his hair, the other desperately clinging onto a fistful of sheets as you felt yourself racing closer to the edge. He made you feel so good, his fingers were so good, but he was too far away. You wanted him on you, crushing into you, fucking you.

“Steve,” breathless you begged, “Need you.” And he slowed, knowing exactly what you wanted. What you needed.

“Yeah, okay baby,” he reassured you, climbing over the top of you as he fumbled in his nightstand drawer and grabbed a condom, tearing the foil between his teeth and thumb. Kneeling with a leg on either side of your hips he slid it over his length, pumping his hand up and down a few times before fitting himself between your legs. You were so wet, sweet like honey, and his heart was pounding in his chest when he looked up into your eyes.

He slowly eased himself into you, feeling how tight you were on him, and he let out a groan. “Jesus Christ,” his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out, you felt so fucking good, but he quickly opened them again to look down at you. “Okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you felt your body slowly relax as you adjusted to the way he filled you, letting out a sigh, the most perfect melody to his ears, “M’okay.”

ALifting a hand to gently brush your hair away from your dewy forehead he took you in. “So pretty,” he whispered, "So damn beautiful." And then started rocking into you, your hips rising to meet him with each thrust. Slow at first, his forehead falling down to meet yours, one hand holding him over you as the other tangled your fingers with his.

“Oh shit,” Steve hissed as he picked up the pace, both of you panting with the effort as you pushed each other closer and closer to your breaking point. You looked up at him as he fucked into you, his pretty lips parted as he sucked in breaths, moving faster and faster chasing his high.

Letting your hand go he moved his fingers back down to your clit and moved them in slick, heavy circles and the moan you loosed then almost shattered him. “Oh–oh god, Steve, I’m gon-gonna come,” you were gasping for air, as the movements of his fingers grew messy and faster, wanting you to find release before he did, your name leaving his lips over and over like a prayer. And then something in you snapped and your hips bucked heavy against his, your hand flying up to hold onto his bicep like a lifeline as each wave of your climax washed over you.

“Fuck, me too, so close,” Steve’s face almost looked pained as his movements grew hurried and uneven, and then finally his rhythm broke too and his lips parted as his breath hitched in his throat. He finished fast as you clenched around him, guiding him up and over the edge and slowly he rocked his hips to a stand still, both of you messy and sweaty and wrecked.

Letting his head fall forward Steve buried his face in you, pressing light kisses to your collarbone, the crook of your neck, your cheek. He smirked, exhaustion creeping over both of you, and brought his lips to yours, “It’s that damn bikini.”

Laughing you slowly moved to cup his face in your hands and shook your head. “Mental note to wear it more often,” your own little grin tugged up at the corners of you lips as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Steve laughed, but it was cut short as he eased out of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you, the fan on the ceiling pushing the warm, thick, summer air around his room. Resting your head on his chest as he settled, you listened to his heartbeat thud, thud, thud against your ear, your breathing slowly evening out along with his.

He ran his fingers through your hair idly, humming low and content, and kissed the top of your head. “So–” he started, voice tired and gravely, but happy, “I…I wanted to tell you that…uh, what I mean is…shit.”

“What is it?” propping yourself up against his chest you looked at him, concern knitting your brow together.

He caught the worry in your eyes and quickly shook his head, his hand finding yours and turning it over to press a kiss to your palm. “No, no nothing bad!” he reassured you quickly, his cheeks flushing pink. “I just,” he sighed, an uncharacteristically nervous laugh escaping him, “I just wanted to tell you I love yo–”

“Steve!”

“It wasn’t my fault–”

“Mike told me to–”

“I did not!”

Voices carried up through the open window cutting Steve off and he jammed his tongue into his cheek. Someone was gonna get it.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me?” irritation gave Steve a second wind and he crossed the room so fast you couldn’t help laughing as you watched his bare ass stop at the window sill. “I’m a little busy here!” he yelled down at the boys, but then you saw his expression change. “Wait, who the hell got pizza in the pool??”

Quiet. Then a barrage of voices.

“Dustin was hungry–”

“I told him it wasn’t allowed, Steve–”

“You know how he is!”

“They’re all lying, Steve!”

Putting both hands over his face he groaned, loud and exaggerated, before letting them drop to his sides. He thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t care and threw his hands up in defeat.

“You know what? You figure it out,” he shouted back down at them and then pulled the sheer curtains shut before coming back to bed.

Laughing he tossed the sheet over both of you, pulling you in close, smiling against your skin, his hands holding you soft and gentle and then he finally whispered against your ear what it was he was trying to tell you all that time.

I love you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#steve harrington smut #smut #is it hot in here or is it just steve #brb melting #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve x reader

[violetpixiedust]

based on this sinful gif set of joe keery ౨ৎ

making out with older!businessman!steve in his study, straddling his lap as he sits atop his herman miller chair, the mahogany door to the cozy room is locked shut. his facial hair is slightly grown out, longer than usual. dusting across the mature angles of his jaw and upper lip like flecks of bronze and gold, illuminated by the amber light of the emerald desk lamp. you giggle softly as the coarse hairs tickle you when he nuzzles the angled bridge of his sun-kissed nose against the perfume scented crook of your neck, large hands splayed behind your back as he pushes you closer to him. the gritty scent of tobacco and aged whisky envelopes you as he sighs hungrily, intoxicated, before his pearly teeth sink into the silky skin of your racing pulse point. he had been imaging the delicious jump of your heartbeat between his canines all throughout the charity gala he had hosted earlier that night- before he came home to you. all throughout his speeches, various introductions, countless firm hand shakes, one too many toasting’s of champagne. a soprano gasp tears through your bared throat, manicured fingers running up the rogue buttons of his patterned dress shirt, before meeting the smattering of curly chest hair from where it peaks out between his wide open collar, decorated with a gold chain that glints with every breath he takes. steve’s raspy grunt echoes between you two as your acrylic nails rake between the long, glossy strands of his chestnut / silver hair, scratching his scalp idly before playfully tugging on the thick roots at the nape of his neck. his large, calloused hands reach below your pleated skirt, squeezing the petal soft skin of your behind that escapes from the lacy panties you were gifted last week, relishing in your responsive squirm. steve had bought them for you while he was away on business, along with another twenty pieces just like it. baby pink and handmade in italy. you moan melodically, and steve swears it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. beating the endless symphonies he’s had to sit through in his fourty-five years around the sun by a landslide. his muscled forearms are on display, sleeves rolled up below wrinkled elbows. the bracelet he had gifted you for your most recent birthday, a delicate 14k gold piece encrusted with your birthstone, meets the genuine leather strap of his classic cartier watch as he lifts your hand in his, placing a firm kiss to the pulse of your wrist. a searing gentleness. a trembling moan escapes your strawberry chapstick coated lips as one of his long pointer fingers outlines the expensive panty hem that showcases the delightful curve of your bum, tracing the line all the way down to where it hugs just outside of your trembling mound. his slightly chapped lips pull up into a wicked smirk, before they smother your sweet sounds in a bruising kiss. the elder man unconsciously rolls his starchy dress pant covered crotch against your ever slicking heat, almond toned eyes practically rolling back into his skull at the delicious friction. your tongues meet. the tangy taste of lavender honey that emits from your mouth prompts him to sigh longingly, his wedding ring cold against your cheek as his left hand cups your angelic face. you languidly pull away from his dominating lips, a trail of saliva connecting you two as steve moans breathily at the sultry sight, attempting to torturously roll his hips up into yours once more. your plush pout forms a perfect ‘o’ shape much to his carnal longing, letting the soft wetness of your tongue brush the underside of his ring finger, before you enclose your mouth around the thick digit skillfully. you watch with glazed doe eyes as the almond ring of steve’s iris’s disappear within the blown ink of his pupils at your sinful actions. with a sharp ‘pop’ the gold band comes loose, sliding up his finger with the tight force of your warm little mouth, dizzying him with desire as you carelessly drop the offending piece of jewellery atop the imported carpet below you two. forgotten for now. you were only the babysitter after all… :)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x innocent!reader #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington blurb #older!steve #older!steve harrington #old money!steve #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #joe keery #pixie’s works * ੈ✩‧₊˚

[drurrito]

welp, can't think of a title

---------

"Anything yet?" you say into your comms.

"Nothing, just hang tight and move when I say so," Steve responds.

You look over at the point of interest, it's a compound completely surrounded by high metal walls. There's a few other pairs of your team scattered around its perimeter. Steve needed all hands on deck for this mission, he even recruited some of the younger members for extra coverage.

You hear a shaky breath and hiss behind you. You turn to find Wanda rubbing her hands together for a few seconds and shoving them back into the pockets of her light coat.

"Cold?" You tease.

"A little," she says, you can hear her teeth chattering as she sucks in a breath.

"Everyone got the same 'pack more layers than you think' lecture," you hear Steve come through comms again and Wanda's cheeks turn red.

"Steve," you reply, chuckling.

"Alright, I'll butt out," you hear him cut out of comms and you find Wanda shrinking deeper into her jacket.

"Here, take my gloves," you start to pull one off but Wanda stops you.

"You don't need to do that," she gently pulls the glove back on your hand.

"What about..." you trail off, trying to think of something quickly. Your gloved hands reach for hers and you just hold them there for a few seconds before finally realizing that this isn't your best idea.

"This...won't work," you admit, nervously patting her hands still in yours, "humor me for a second."

"Yeah?" Wanda tilts her head with a crooked smirk that scrambles your thoughts for a few moments.

"Okay," you feverishly unzip your coat and open it wide. You feel the cold air try to bite you through your lighter layers as you envelop Wanda in the coat with you.

"S'okay?" You breathe out. You're waiting a few seconds in suspense until you feel Wanda's arms around your middle pull you in closer. You wrap more of the coat around her so her face is shielded by the fierce winds. You both stay still for a few minutes, you both can feel every breath the other takes. Wanda huddles impossibly closer, taking inventory of your muscles that impressively bulge through the layers of clothing you're wearing.

"Thank you," Wanda finally breaks the silence, managing a small smile, her skin too stiff from the cold to stretch any farther.

"Anytime," you smile back. You only get to share a few more minutes like this before Steve gives you the signal.

--------

Natasha is the only one who notices you come back without your coat. She also notices where, or who, it went to.

She trades a glance with Wanda who doesn't give anything away as she makes her way towards you. Natasha watches her take the seat next to you and has to bite her tongue to keep from making one of her trademark quips.

"Thanks again," Wanda tries to shrug off your jacket to give it back.

"Keep it," you say, "at least until we land. or whenever you break a sweat, whatever comes first," you laugh.

"Are you sure?" Wanda slowly pulls the jacket back on, Natasha doesn't bother to hide the sharpest smirk on her lips.

"Yeah, it looks better on you anyway," you grin and Wanda can feel her cheeks grow much hotter than the rest of her body.

--------

Wanda is cradling a cup of tea in her hands as she leans against a counter.

"So," Wanda jumps, she spins her head around to find Natasha leaning against the doorway.

"Sokovians get cold now?"

#i should have studied instead of this but here we are #works #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine

[jaidens]

If you special requests are still open can I have a hot chai latte with extra whipped cream under name Darrel Curtis? Only if ur ok with that!

So scarlet it was Maroon, The mark they saw on my collarbone

pairing [s] : darry curtis x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : sex, hickeys, drinking, riding, making out | wrap it before you tap it |

a/n [s] : ty for requesting, I'm sorry for how long it took!

It has almost been a month without your fiance. Darry had been booked for every single day, and suddenly nurses had become extremely needed everyday for your hospital. You were riled up and upset that your shifts hadn't matched up with Darry's which ended up in only seeing him passing in and out of the house. You were the night shift, and Darry had been the morning shift. You took care of the gang when Darry couldn't, becoming the casual mom of the group when you were around.

As you shift the small ring around your finger, tapping against the table as the clock clicks closer to your shift ending. As soon as it hits twelve, you jump up, grabbing your bag and Darry's jacket and run out of the hospital while saying goodbye to your coworkers. The air is cold as it nips at your nose. You open your car door and turn the car on, the cold air hitting you as it attempts to start up with a rumble. The radio plays quietly as you start to feel giddy at being able to see your boyfriend after a month.

The car ride isn't long, but not very short. After twenty-five minutes of no traffic and long, twisting roads, you pull into the driveway of Darry's house. His truck is sitting next to your car, and the lights are still on the inside of the house. Grabbing your stuff, you run into the house and shut the door quietly behind you. Two-Bit and Steve are asleep on the couch, snoring as Mickey Mouse is playing on the television.

You smile at them, shutting off the television and lights. You walk to the kitchen, hang up your keys on the hook, and set your bag down. Your stomach rumbles after hours of being unable to eat due to the rush on the hospital. You pull out some food and heat it up, and bite into it and moan out. Darry’s cooking was always amazing, after years of practicing after the loss of his Mom and Dad. While you're eating, strong arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his hips.

With a gentle kiss to your neck, you smile and twist your body around to be in front of Darry. He's smiling widely, his tongue darting out to like his lips. “Oh, Darry..” You mumble out and he pushes you against the counter and his hand falls underneath your thighs as you follow his movements with your lips. Your hand runs up his shoulders and to the back of his head and you grip onto his messy, ungreased hair. He smells like aftershave and his minty shampoo and conditioner.

You're mumbling out his name every time he pulls away from your lips to let you breathe. “Not here, love. Bedroom c’mon!” You're whisper-shouting, as he picks you up off the counter and carries your bridal style to your small, shared bedroom. The bed is messy and fluffy with blankets as you try and beat the November weather that was attacking Tulsa. The television is on and plays a random show that Darry had liked, but you didn't understand it half of the time.

You crawl onto the bed and pull on the waistband of his pants and he falls on the bed on top of you, not crushing you with his thighs taking his fall. You're wrapped up in the kiss you've been waiting for, deep and full of delicious passion. His lips slide from your mouth to suck against your neck, kissing and biting gently. His name is a prayer as it falls from your lips as you slide against him, his hand tickling against your waistband.

You pull his shirt off and throw it on the floor, staring at his delicious muscles and abs that stretch and pull in every time you touch his warm skin. “Missed you so much.” Darry gasps when you pull him up and push against the wall.

—

When you wake up the next morning, your legs are sore and your back achy. The bed is cold and alone with Darry's side is put together and cleaned up. Your side however isn't as you get up from bed. You're in a big t-shirt of Darry's with a pair of underwear. You grab a pair of shorts and put them on. You stretch out your body and crack your hands. You fix up the bed and straighten out the sheets and fix up your hair. You put your slippers and rub your eyes. When you look at the mirror, you see all of the purplish and dusty pink bruises that litter your neck and down to your collarbone.

You grab a big hoodie and pull it on and it covers most of them up, but it would be impossible to cover all of them. You open the door to leave and you hear the boys that are somehow rowdy at eight-thirty in the morning. Two-Bit and Steve are ones that you can pick out, teasing Darry and Ponyboy about something you couldn't hear. You walk into the kitchen and you feel people's eyes on you. “Well! Well, how-dy here!” Two-Bit teases and taps against the maroon bruise that's underneath your jaw. “What’s that lil ol’ thing, Y/N!?”

You cover your neck and start to get embarrassed. Darry immediately pulls into protective mode and pulls you into his arms. You smile at him and he kisses the top of your head. You're forced to follow him around to stay in his arms. “Did you fight something last night? What's all over you—oh ew Darry!” Ponyboy says before covering his eyes and gagging. You laugh at him and serve him a plate of food. “Oh hush you too!” Darry shouts when Two-Bit and Pony start to giggle and conspiring about what happened last night.

You kiss Darry and he deepens it softly. “I’m off work today. Charles was being nice by not scheduling me.” You tell Darry and he smiles at you, letting his hands naturally wrap around your waist. You lay against his chest as you both fall into a natural sway. One thing about Darry is he didn't have two of the same feet, he was an amazing dancer and naturally would always be moving gracefully somehow.

You're both lying like that until Ponyboy says he's ready for school. You smile at Darry and hand him the truck keys, giving him a long kiss and twirling the curls around his neck on your finger as he walks out the door. You're smiling at the door when you hear the sound of the refrigerator opening, clicking of glasses, and two pops. “Really Two-Bit!? Beer at nine in the morning?”

“Hey young-lady! We both had fun, you got it earlier than I did. Now, let me enjoy this!”

#darry curtis x y/n #darrel curtis x reader #darry curtis the outsiders #darry curtis x reader #darry curtis #darrel curtis #darry curtis x you #🍂 — 350 follower celebrations — daniellarussoo #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders x reader #darry curtis x fem!reader

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Soft Lovin’

Chubby!Bucky x Female Reader 

Summary:You show Bucky just how much you appreciate his new larger, softer frame.

Warnings:18+, Smut, Blow Jobs, Cum Swallowing (is that even a thing???)

Word Count:1,090

Authour’s Note:I wrote this way back in 2021 and I just thought I’d pull it up from my AO3 account and post it here too! I’ve read SO many chubby!Bucky fics and they are my absolute favourite to read, and I guess this was my attempt at writing for him! Also wanted to show that I do write for characters other than Eddie Munson and Steve harrington.

MASTERLIST

Bucky came out of the bathroom, towel tied around his naked body as he moved into his adjoining bedroom before coming to stand in front of the full length mirror.

He'd long retired from that world of saving people, he had you now, and he planned on spending every second of that time enjoying your presence.

Although, looking at himself in his full length mirror, he'd noticed that since retiring from the superhero business, his stomach was a lot softer than he remembers, his ab muscles given away to more softer curves and a few stretch marks that he's certain that they weren't there last time he checked.

He was still very strong, that fact he was absolutely sure about, but now looking at his larger, softer frame he couldn't help his mind wondering why you never mentioned anything to him about his size before. There's absolutely no way that you hadn't noticed, not when you spend your mornings, evenings and nights snuggled so close to him.

Perhaps he should go for those morning runs that Sam's always pestering for him to go on.

Just as his mind was about to spiral further down that dark rabbit hole of self-loathing, you walked into the bedroom.

Spotting his half-naked frame, with the towel slung dangerously low around his hips, you couldn't help the blush rise to your cheeks, even the simplest of things like him fresh out of the shower, the droplets of water running down his body made you want to jump his bones.

"Hey honey" you said, coming up behind him wrapping your arms around his soft tummy, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me I was getting fat?" he says, a hint of disapproval in his tone. "I mean, look at all this.." he says pinching a roll of fat around his stomach with his metal fingers. "You can't possibly tell me that you haven't noticed anything."

"Truth be told, I did notice, but I rather enjoy having a bit more of you to snuggle up to at night" You answered with the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Oh really..." his voice trailed off.

"Yeah, you know I love you so much. That means I love you, whatever shape you are. Besides you look good with that cute tummy of yours" your hands wandering over his stomach in a soft caress.

With the warmth of your hands caressing over his soft stomach, Bucky felt his cock harden, causing the towel he was wearing around his hips to tent. The feeling of your small hands exploring the expanse of his much larger stomach was something that he didn't know he would like so much, but by god, now he knew, he never wanted you to stop.

"Oh well hello, Sarge" you teased, noticing the tented towel hiding his erection.

"Sorry, Doll your hands all over me just felt so good" he huffed out.

Moving around to stand in front of him, you moved your hand down, raking your nails down his rounded belly in a teasing scratch, before your fingers worked to untie the towel from around his waist. Letting the material drop to the floor, his hard length slapped up against the curve of his lower stomach.

You got to your knees in front of him.

"Let me show you how much I love your body, baby.." you said as you began your trailing kisses over that soft curve of his lower stomach. Continuing your trail of kisses even lower you took Bucky's hardened length in one of your hands and began to slowly stroke him. Working your hand in a steady pace, smearing the bead of pre-cum as your thumb swiped over his sensitive tip to aid your movements.

Briefly flicking your eyes upwards to look at him, you could see Bucky's chest heaving with heavy breaths, you knew he was enjoying this.

Leaning forward you opened your mouth, and began to bob your head over his large cock, hollowing out your cheeks, the rest of what you couldn't fit in your mouth you worked with your hand. The saliva making it very easy for his length to slide in and out of your mouth.

Reaching forward you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, knowing he loved it when he could control your movements over him.

The hand on the back of your head encouraged you to take him even further into your mouth, even coming as far to hit the back of your throat. Bucky always loved it when you would deep-throat him. He Began to thrust his cock down your throat, his hips stuttering forward with the pleasure. The sounds of you gagging on his cock driving him wild.

Pulling of him briefly, looking up to the man you loved so dearly, he looked absolutely wrecked. Eyes screwed shut and his perfect pink lips parted to let out groans of pleasure.

Going back to his cock, you worked your hand in short fast strokes, concentrating your movements over the head, your lips and tongue working together, your hollowed out cheeks creating a suction around his length.

Still holding his hands at the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair, he moans out.

"Oh g-god fuck, don't stop, doll. I-I'm so close"

Continuing in your mission, you kept going with your movements over his cock. It wasn't long before Bucky came down your throat.

"F-fuck" he swore as his seed spilled down your throat. His length twitched for a moment, the release of his orgasm making his chest rise and fall.

You swallowed all of what your boyfriend had to give you. Using your finger to swiped some of the spilled cum at the corner of your mouth your greedily sucked your finger clean.

Removing him from your mouth with a lewd pop, and getting up off your knees to stand in front of him he wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug as he kissed you passionately.

"I told you, Buck, I love you and I love your body. Whatever shape it takes" you smiled.

"Thanks, doll. You always make me feel so good." he said as he picked you up in his strong arms and carried you over to the bed and set you down amongst the pillows.

"What? You didn't think we were finished, did you? Oh baby, no, I've still got to return the favour" he said smiling as he settled between your thighs on the bed

#Bucky Barnes x reader #James Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #chubby!bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes smut fanfiction

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Happy Now? | Captain Rogers & Agent Brat AU | Steve Rogers x Reader | Drabble - 500words

If Steve thinks he's getting away with giving you a shitty mission he has another thing coming…

Warnings: Bratty reader & Brat Tamer Steve, implied previous sexual content, kissing

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Captain Rogers & Agent Brat AU | Steve Rogers

You followed Steve out of the briefing room, taking an extra half step for each of his long strides.

“Get back here!” You shouted, ignoring the ringing echo of your voice in the wide metal atrium of the Avengers tower.

“Agent, please take your mission pack and study it quietly.” He tossed a quick glance over his shoulder and you caught a glimpse of his newly bearded cheeks, stubble that had grown out during your last mission together and the following two weeks stuck in a safe house in the Alps.

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m talking to you.” You grabbed a pen from another passing agent and chucked it as hard as you could at his retreating back, internally screaming when it merely bounced off of his shield.

From the incline of his head you were almost 100% sure he was laughing at you.

Picking up your pace you followed him away from the meeting rooms and across the building to the offices, chasing after him as he strode past your colleagues, touching his fingers to his forehead in a casual salute.

You caught up to him outside of the lifts, watching him bounce on his toes slightly as he whistled to himself.

“Steve!” You muscled past the other waiting agents to stand directly in front of him, crossing your arms and glaring up at him in frustration.

“Oh, hello Agent.” He smiled, “lovely to see you here too, going up?”

The doors pinged behind you and Steve moved you backwards into the waiting lift.

“This one’s full.” He said, firmly, blocking anyone else from entering, his smile morphed from his PR friendly pose to the hungry grin you were used to. He said nothing, simply watched you as you paced back and forth in front of the rapidly changing view as the lift shot up to the living quarters.

“Steve, you can’t bench me, you know I’m a good agent, I don’t understand it, we just got back from another mission. Do you think because we’re sleeping together I can’t perform as well as other agents? Or as well as I did before?” You ranted, waving your hands and barely stopping to look at him until he blocked your path.

“It’s hot when you talk back.” He whispered, running his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Rogers you had better not be trying something right now.” You shoved at him, but he caught your hands and pulled you back, crushing his lips to yours. His kiss was fierce, burning as his beard rubbed against the soft skin of your cheeks, a reminder of how much closer you’d been before returning to the bustle of the tower. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around his neck before remembering your ire and pushing him away again.

His smile was still plastered to his face, only slightly ruffled by your rejection.

“Seriously, you can’t bench me and then -”

“I told you to check your mission pack.”

“Steve, stop being an asshole.”

“Honey, stop being a brat”

He pulled the black folder from your hands and flipped past the first few pages to the confidential file fitted snugly between the usual boring beige pages of desk work that he’d handed out earlier.

“Happy now?”

You nodded, jumping back into his arms and placing kisses over his bearded cheeks

#Steve Rogers #Captain America #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers/Reader #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers/You #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve Rogers fanfic

[strangerxperv]

This was originally posted on @zestychili discord server and I am posting it here. This server is really amazing and I've met so many cool and talented people. They jump started my fic writing and inspire me to write filth. Without further ado,

Warnings: Eddie is muscler, reader is curvy, Dom/ Sub undertones, smut, Teens do not interact/ NSFW, and Eddie eats like his life depends on it.

Imagine curvy reader always finds a way to end up on her back rather than riding Eddies mouth (or cock). She knows Eddie is strong because of what he does for a living. But she knows she's not exactly light and worries he might get hurt (or she might get hurt if he can't handle her).

Our boy eventually catches on and decides enough is enough. He covertly finds out how much his girl weighs. While hanging out with Steve he asks him for help to gain more muscle (like he needs any more). After working out and being able to securely lift your weight. Eddie decides to show you.

He starts out by edging you to make you desperate for him and to cum. You need it so bad that you're sobbing fat tears down chubby cheeks.

Mouth wobbling with each cry for Eddie as your lower half is in the air. Eddie has your legs wrapped up and around his face as he sits, consuming you.

Just as you reach your peak he pulls off your clit with a sloppy pop. Drops your thick thighs and lays next to you, "If you wanna cum then you're gonna ride my face."

"I can't Eddie!" Your next sob becomes hickupped words slurred together as you rub your eyes.

"You wanna be my good girl?" His voice is firm and gruff and has you grasping onto it for guidance.

"Yea, Edds... Wanna be your good girl..."

"Then climb onto my fucking face."

And that's how you ended up hovering over Eddie's perfect lips and grasping onto the head board. And he can tell you aren't sitting on him. It's pissing him off.

Eddie's muscler arms wrap around your thighs and pull you onto him. Down and pressed against his face to smother him fully. He eats you until you stop complaining and worrying about him breathing. He sucks until you're breathless and squirming away from him. He keeps kissing even when he's made you cum twice now.

He loves the weight of you on him and wont stop until he's full of you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie x plus size reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson au #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female character