eideticboywonder

[eideticboywonder]

winter dreams

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie really wants to give you a baby for christmas

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader and eddie are actively trying to get pregnant, unprotected piv, creampie

The fire crackles in the fireplace beside you, orange embers licking at the logs below them. The carpet is plush beneath your bare back, skin pleasantly warm from the flames.

There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, its pretty colored lights partnering with the fire to cast the prettiest glow across the space. A Bing Crosby holiday album plays from the record player, volume turned low, making him sound far away; dreamlike.

Your eyes wander momentarily to the window, and you can see the snow falling down in slow, fluffy flakes. It’s like you’re inside of a snow globe, and someone just shook it upside down. You smile warmly, letting this moment wrap you up in its joy.

Eddie rocks slowly into you, hands braced on the floor beside your head. Every move he makes is entirely intentional, filling you completely full of him with each thrust. Despite his loving pace, it still knocks the breath out of you, feeling him all over you; everywhere.

You let out a satisfied hum, to which he grunts softly in response. His wide, beautiful brown eyes look down at you, twinkling with the reflection of the lights. Long lashes flutter before his eyelids close, face leaning into yours to press a kiss to your mouth, open in a sigh of his name.

"Fuck, baby," he groans. "Feel like fucking heaven." His voice is deep and husky, and it seems to wrap around you, enveloping you in the affection that pours from him.

You don't really respond, aside from another moan. He's turning you to mush, slowing down your brain, rendering you incapable of forming a sentence. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, nails digging in to his soft skin.

"Are you feeling good, sweetheart?" he asks, watching the way your eyes roll back as he delivers another deep thrust.

Typically, that question would come out a little cocky; smug. He'd be pounding you senseless, knowing damn well he's making you feel so good and also that you're in no state to respond to him. But right now, there's nothing but pure adoration behind his ask. This is love-making in its purest form, slow and steady and passionate, hands caressing tenderly and lips moving languid across searing skin.

"Yes," you gasp. "So good, baby," your brain manages to string the words together, leaving you breathily.

A pleased noise erupts from deep in his throat, and his mouth dips down to kiss the side of your face, trailing purposefully down to your neck.

"God, I love you," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, strands of his unruly curls tickling your neck.

It drags another high-pitched sound from you, and that's all the response he needs.

"Gonna get you pregnant, holy shit," he pants, statement enunciated by the slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you.

And that was always the plan, but hearing him say it now, in the heat of the moment, has your walls clenching around him, your brain fuzzy with desire.

"That what you want, baby? Hm? Want me to give you a baby for Christmas?"

You whimper, back arching til your tits are pressed against his chest, eyes screwing shut.

“Need you to use your words, honey,” he coaxes, letting his mouth dip to your cleavage, pressing a kiss featherlight to the skin.

“Yes, Eddie,” you burn. “That’s what I want.”

It’s something you’d both been talking about for a while. A baby. You’d been less and less cautious during sex lately, rolling with the mindset of, ‘if it happens, it happens’. But this, tonight— this feels more intentional, more promising.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples, hips unwavering in their steady rocking.

“Good, baby. ‘M gonna give it to you,” he rasps, bringing his mouth back up, bottom lip dragging hot up the column of your throat until he catches your own mouth.

His tongue slots between your lips, moving slow with yours, sending a shiver straight through you. The rough pad of his thumb carefully finds your clit, snagging on it, rubbing in soft circles. A moan catches in your throat, coming out strangled, head tipping back against the soft carpeting.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, feeling that familiar swell of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, letting him play your body like an instrument, getting such pretty sounds out of you; working you up to your crescendo.

The weight of him on top of you is grounding, comforting as he sends you tipping over your edge. A few more swirls of his finger around your bud timed perfectly with his deep thrusts has you unraveling entirely. You moan unashamedly, hands desperately pulling him secure against your chest as your body shakes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum, gonna cum inside you—”

And just like that, you can feel his cock twitching and his hips stilling, your insides coated with his release. He curses and groans, the noises dizzying, music to your ears. Two chests heave in unison, rising and falling, rising and falling as you both catch your breath. He doesn't pull out, in fact you think he might even push himself deeper, like he's really trying to make his seed stick.

He kisses you like it's his last moment on earth, like he's trying to breathe life into you and steal the life from you all at once. Bodies still entwined, still connected.

When he pulls away, everything feels still. The record player croons, dreams of white Christmases floating through the air. The look in Eddie's eyes says everything, no need for words.

If this were a dream, you'd never want to wake up. You're pretty certain it's real, though.

[eideticboywonder]

working on something new... can someone say ANGST 🙂‍↕️🫶

[eideticboywonder]

i've been working on/adding to an oc x steve fic with my best friend since i was like 15 and she and all my other original babies have been living in my google docs ever since. been thinking about bringing her here if anyone would be interested in that <3

[eideticboywonder]

─── ̩̩͙✩ sweet like honey, part i ; steve harrington

summary — all it took was a smile from you to bring steve harrington to his knees.

pairing — fem!reader x steve harrington

warning(s) — use of she/her pronouns, love at first sight, lovestruck steve, just sweet fluff :)

word count —  2,312

The interaction only lasted mere seconds, but Steve had every single detail forever ingrained in his mind.

It was a dreary morning, unusually chilly for early summer. The newly opened Starcourt Mall, not yet abuzz with the newly released children and teens of Hawkins, echoed with the rain beating against the glass roof. Steve, who’d just rushed in from his car donning only the ridiculous navy Scoops Ahoy uniform, ran his hand through his once perfectly styled hair, now slightly undone by the wetness in an attempt to fix it. He flicked droplets from his arms as he walked toward the ice cream shop, muttering in irritation under his breath as he went. 

That is, until he felt a light hand on his back and turned to find you behind him. He stopped cold, every drop of annoyance previously flooding his system vanishing. The world around the two of you dulled, every person, each sound fading away until there was only you.

You had been wearing the dark maroon vest of your movie theater work attire and black formal pants that hugged the curves of you just right. Even with your hair pulled back, damp from the weather, the coconut of your shampoo married with the vanilla of your perfume infiltrated his senses. 

“Sorry, I just—” Your voice dripped with a honey so sweet, so hypnotic Steve’s brain momentarily short circuited. He couldn’t even register his keys in your grasp, he was too focused on your eyes; he didn’t know it was possible for eyes to be that beautiful until he’d looked into yours. “You dropped these.”

The shy smile gracing your lips made his heart skip, then leap into his throat when your fingers grazed his as you handed him his keys. Your touch was warm against the chill in the air, and he hoped the flush rising in his cheeks could be disguised by the crisp temperature. 

Realizing he hadn’t yet spoken a word, Steve finally managed to get out a “Thanks.” before you offered one last knee weakening smile and brushed past him, presumably continuing on your way to the theater. 

He stood there for a second with his hand still held out, his brain slowly thawing. By the time he’d finished buffering and turned to call after you and ask your name, you were already too far to go after without looking like a creep. 

That was it. The “king” of Hawkins High brought down by a smile and six quiet words.

Steve told himself he’d go find you on his break, properly thank you and at least get your name (which he had no doubt would become his favorite the second he learned it). But when his break came, he made it no further than the threshold into Scoops before his stomach quickly filled with anxious butterflies, preventing him from going any further. 

Robin, of course, didn't miss the chance to give him shit about it. “You all there, Harrington? You look like you're gonna yack all over my clean floor.”

He rolled his eyes, dropping into one of the cold metal chairs. “I’m fine, your precious floor is safe.”

Her brows furrowed, leaning over the window separating the break room from the front of the store. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t been nearly as annoying as you usually are. It’s kinda freaking me out.”

“First of all, thanks for that.”

“You're very welcome.”

Steve gave a pointed glare, not even bothering to lift his arm from the table as he offers a lazy middle finger with a tight quirk of his lips. “Second of all, I said I’m fine, alright? I’m totally, one hundred percent fine.”

“Yeah, ‘cause that was just so very convincing, Harrington. If you ever had any aspirations to go into acting, I’d give up and stick to slinging ice cream.”

His second attempt occurred that day after Steve’s shift, even made it all the way to the theater this time. However, as soon as his eyes found you behind the counter helping a mother and her daughter, the warmth emanating from that damn smile of yours turned his legs into jelly, effectively putting an end to his movements. His mouth felt dry, whatever words he’d previously been able to come up with dissipating completely as he became helpless to do anything but stare. 

Then, just as you’d finished handing the little girl her popcorn, your head began to turn in his direction, triggering his legs to finally move once more… but in the opposite direction.

What the hell was wrong with him? Getting tongue tied over a girl? Steve Harrington always knows what to say, the perfect line or simple look to turn women into putty in his hands. And yet, somehow, you’d achieved the impossible by simply existing. 

In the days that followed, in addition to work, Steve suddenly saw you everywhere, his subconscious seeking you at every turn. 

At the arcade the following night when he dropped the kids at Dustin’s insistence. You’d been coming out as they went in, laughing with another girl, arms linked; your hair flowed freely this time, dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie that looked a little too big, unencumbered by workplace regulations. Even in the dim light from the arcade, your smile pulled Steve in. Your laugh, light and contagious, quickened his pulse and sent pleasant goosebumps down his spine. (He didn’t know it then but he’d spend the rest of his life trying to elicit that angelic sound from you as often as he could.) 

The community pool for the official summer opening that weekend. Steve had to work that day, so he didn’t arrive until the late afternoon. Whereas you’d been there almost all day to appease your best friend’s desire to ogle the lifeguards, so by the time he arrived the several sun exposure and energy spent in the water had you drained. 

This time, Steve came across you passed out alone in one of the reclining pool chairs on his way to the bathroom. You were positioned laying on your side, curled into yourself with your wrist tucked under your chin. A bright pink and blue beach towel was draped over your not completely covered body, contouring to your shape. Your brow is creased, a slight frown pulling on your lips. He mirrored it, wondering what could be troubling that beautiful head of yours. A breeze blows over you then, making you shiver a little and shift, which reveals the top of your white bikini peeking from under the towel. 

A deep crimson that worsened as you adjusted again spread across his flustered face, eyes wide and lips parted, and immediately averted his gaze out of respect. Steve’s eyes land on one of the white towels provided by the pool sprawled across the empty chair to the left of you. He grabbed it, feeling the residual heat from the sun before leaning forward to place it over you as added protection and warmth.

Once you were covered anew, your still sleeping face relaxes; brows unfurrow, frown receding to a more peaceful appearance. He was helpless to the soft smile that took hold as he observed you, so enchanting even unconscious. Then, before he can start to feel too much like a creep, Steve continued on his original path to the locker rooms, throwing one last glance over his shoulder.

Then again, a few days later at the grocery store. Steve’s father, as a part of the whole “teaching him to be responsible” thing after not being accepted into a college, told him he needed to learn how to shop for himself with the money earned from Scoops instead of relying on his mother. He was standing in the frozen aisle, surveying his pizza options when he heard it— that voice dripping in honey he knew could only belong to you. 

“Come on, we’ve been working hard all week. We deserve a sweet treat, I refuse to take no for an answer.”

His eyes snapped in the direction it came from and landed on you at the opposite end of the aisle where the ice cream was displayed. You stood with your arms hugging yourself, the t-shirt you wore clearly not enough to shield you from the chill coming off the freezers. You craned your neck to look at the options on the upper shelves, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip in thought. Too entranced by the sight of you, Steve didn’t notice the guy with you until you pointed at something out of your reach and he opened the freezer to grab it for you. You smiled at him in thanks as he handed you the pint of ice cream, and a tinge of disappointment pinged at Steve’s chest. 

Shaking his head, Steve grabbed a random box to throw in his cart, turned and walked away as he pushed the feeling aside. He had no reason to be jealous— he didn’t even know your name yet. 

Even still, whenever he went back to work, he found himself frequently glancing up and out from behind the ice cream counter or as he wiped tables. Each time he caught a glimpse of you effecting him all the same. Until one night you’d looked over as he was sweeping through the lobby at closing, gaze locking with his. Recognizing him as the cute, shy guy you’d helped the week prior (and have noticed numerous times since), you flashed him a smile and offered a small wave. 

He wasn’t ready for this— heat crept into his face, tinting it an adorable shade of pink, which only deepened when he tripped over the broom he was holding, sending the dustpan beside it and its contents sprawling. Just great.

You giggle, finding the whole thing endearing, covering your grin with your hand as you approach him. “Are you okay?” 

Steve does his best to avoid your eyes, knowing it would further the embarrassment and complicate his ability to think coherently. “I mean, if you classify my apparent inability to walk and operate a broom at the same time as ‘okay’, I’m doing fantastic.”

“I don’t know, I think walking and sweeping is a pretty tough skill to learn and yet, you just made it look so easy.” 

“Ha ha,” He rolls his eyes, his sarcasm playful. “You're a real comedian.”

“Why, thank you for noticing, uh…” You trail off, becoming aware you're missing a key piece of information. “I actually didn’t catch your name the other day, I was in such a rush. You know, with the keys, and the rain.”

He finally lifts his eyes from the the cleaning supplies in hand to meet yours, the now all too familiar sensation of butterflies and brain fog washing over him. “Trust me, I remember.”

Little does he know the honey brown warmth in his are having the same effect on you, your breath hitching in your throat and pulse racing. The corners of your mouth instinctively curl as you look up at him, admiring the scattered moles adorning his beautiful face, the way his shaggy hair falls just so against his forehead. Your eyes trace a path from his pink lips back up to his, a shiver travelling down your spine at the way he’s looking at you; no one has ever looked at you this way, like you’re the most precious thing they’ve ever seen.

It’s then that Steve seems to realize he hasn’t responded to your original inquiry. “Oh, um, Steve. Steve is my name, by the way. Since you… asked.”

“Well, Steve,” His name has never sounded so melodic coming from anyone else’s lips. “It’s nice to finally be able to put a name to my accidental stalker.”

“Oh, I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” Your brief touch on his forearm meant to be an act of assurance lights his skin on fire. “It’s not like there are that many places to go in Hawkins. There’s bound to be some overlap.”

“Actually, I was thinking Hawkins must be bigger than I thought if I never noticed you before.”

“You know what they say. ‘Sometimes you never really know what you’re missing until it’s right in front of you’, right?” The eye contact holds for a silent beat, the air crackling. Neither of you are aware the same delicate expression of adoration on your face is reflected in the other’s, shown in the near identical adoring grins faintly toying on your lips. Your eyes catch the clock hanging on the wall behind him, trying not to let your disappointment at the time show too much as you start to back away. “Shit, I have to go. My ride’s waiting. To be continued.”

“Wait,” You pause, facing him just outside the store; he almost forgets what he was going to ask as his eyes meet yours again. “Do I get to know your name?”

“A week hasn’t been long enough, stalker?” The mischievous glint in your eye paired with your teasing tone and amused grin feels like you’ve known each other a lifetime, warm and familiar, and he wants to stay in it forever. “When you finally do find it, let me know. Just don’t take too long because I might have a new, more motivated stalker to take your place by then.”

Then you’re gone, leaving Steve reeling in the remnants of coconut and vanilla tainted with popcorn left behind. He’s temporarily dazed, almost certain that what just occurred was nothing more than a dream (which wouldn’t be far fetched, you’d made several appearances in his sleep since that fateful day). He kicks himself for not just talking to you sooner, already impatiently awaiting your next encounter. 

Still, there's no stopping the stupid, lovestruck smile that remains on his face the rest of the night. All because of you. 

[eideticboywonder]

─── ̩̩͙✩ sweet like honey, part ii ; steve harrington

summary ─ all it took was a smile from you to bring steve harrington to his knees. now he’s on the mission of a lifetime to find your name.

pairing ─ fem!reader x steve harrington

warning(s) ─ use of she/her pronouns, lovestruck steve, they’re so sweet i want to vomit

word count ─ 2,712

author’s note : so… it took an embarrassingly long time to get this out but here it finally is! i realized a big issue was trying to fit too much in one part so i’ve decided to break it up. there will be a part three, hopefully released way sooner than this one lol. thanks again to those who enjoyed part one, i hope you like this one, too!

─ ♡ amy

read part one here ❤️

The night you left him in the lobby of Scoops, that smitten smile stitched to his face, sleep eluded him. The kind of exhilaration only felt in adolescence coursed through him; the impatient excitement over going back to work the next morning because it’d mean seeing you, hearing that voice laced with saccharine so silky it was as if you were serenading him with every word. Steve replayed your conversation on a loop, focusing on the minute details of it— the slight dimple in your right cheek that appeared each time you smiled at him, the genuine interest that shone in your eyes when he talked, the way his skin tingled under the briefest of touches.

It was a complete enigma as to exactly why a whole body reaction was induced every time he so much as thought of you, never mind the floodgates of nerves that opened when you actually interacted. The mystery did not lie within who you were, but the fact that Steve was having these feelings in the first place.

He was always the one in control, never reduced to a puddle by a simple look or made to stumble over his words. He didn’t spend hours after talking to a girl poring over every word, nerves as every bit on fire as they were in the moment.

The thing was, though, Steve didn’t much care about the why. The one thing he did know was he wanted to hold onto this feeling as long as you allowed it.

For once, the blaring of his morning alarm was not only anticipated, but a welcome relief. Steve took extra care in getting ready that day, making sure his hair did “the thing”, picking out just the right cologne he thought you’d like best based on your own fragrance choices. If only he wasn’t condemned to that asinine navy costume.

In truth, he hadn’t thought it would be very difficult at all to obtain your identity— this was Hawkins, everyone knew everyone.

Steve’s first course of action was a simple one: take a quick walk to the theater on his break and try to catch a glimpse of your name tag, or ask one of your coworkers if you weren’t there.

How hard could it be?

His eyes are a magnet to you at this point, easily catching you kneeling before the candy display located within the velvet ropes of the designated line to the concessions counter, restocking the assortment of sweets. For a second, the purpose of his visit evades him, bewitched once again by the sight of you.

Feeling eyes on you, you turn, and upon seeing him, give a smile that infected his entire being. An almost involuntary one of his own pulls at his lips, unknowingly releasing a flurry of butterflies into your stomach; god, he is so beautiful. The butterflies in your stomach flutter frantically when he walks up to you and offers his hand to assist you in standing. Your fingers slot into his instinctively, fitting together so perfectly a warmth blooms from the touch. Even as you rise and no longer need the support, you both find it difficult to let go.

You try to ignore the disappointment when his hand slips from yours— luckily, the dizziness of being close enough to smell his amber cologne, to see the golden brown embers of his eyes, drowns everything else in an instant.

The sound of your own voice slips out before you realize what you’re saying. “One conversation and suddenly the stalker is comfortable enough to approach me at work.”

“I’m just here for the popcorn, running into you is a complete coincidence.” Steve shrugs casually, hoping he’s successful in concealing just how much he's been not so patiently anticipating this meeting.

“Right.” You cross your arms across your chest, raising a brow as you fix him with a look of sarcastic disbelief matching your tone. “So, your being here has absolutely nothing to do with you hoping you could just walk over here and get my name, just like that?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, trying (and miserably failing) to appear nonchalant; you find it insanely cute, your gaze filling with more adoration by the second. This act is made even less convincing when he tries to lean on the velvet rope, which obviously was not strong enough to support someone of his build, and begins to fold beneath the weight. You can’t stop the quiet giggle you attempt to stifle with your hand as you watch him hurriedly fumble to straighten back up, face flushing fiercely, and go on as if nothing had happened— you choose to show mercy and let him. “‘Cause that would just be too easy… right?”

You donned an expression of fake sympathy and nodded. “Unfortunately for you, Steve, you would be correct. Everyone here is under the express orders to keep their mouths shut.”

“I think you mean ‘unfortunately for us both’, sweetness.” The pet name slips out without thought, a slight panic building within Steve as he assesses your reaction to it. Meanwhile, it’s as if someone has set off fireworks in your chest, your grin widening and the blush dusting your luminous face deepening just so. Your apparent approval noted and his confidence boosted, he continues. “See, as long as it takes me to do this, you also have to wait for me.”

You clutch your chest dramatically. “And what a tragedy that is, Harrington.”

His brows arch at that, the smile that seems to be permanent in your presence taking an air of teasing. “Oh, so you get to know my full name and I can’t even get a hint of yours?”

The rose in your cheeks intensifies with the realization of what you’d let slip, hoping he doesn't notice as you continue— he totally does, by the way, and finds it absolutely adorable. “In my defense, you do have a bit of a reputation, ‘King Steve’. There are benefits to being anonymous, I guess.”

Steve can only imagine what you meant by the “reputation” associated with that moniker, and none of it was good. The partying, the level of (for the lack of a better word) douchiness, he’d put on to maintain his relationships with people like Tommy and Carol, and the popularity that came with it. Not to mention his dating history. A seed of worry begins to plant itself in the back of his mind, watered by his insecurity— was this why you didn’t tell him your name? Did you think he was still that guy?

As much as the boy tries to conceal it by keeping the aloof grin up, you see the panic flash in the hazel of his eyes, thinking quickly to stop it from heightening any further. “Besides, I kinda like that name you gave me. I’m almost tempted to call this whole thing off just so you’ll keep calling me that.”

Your attempt works, evident by the bashful brightness creeping back into his features. “Does that mean I win this little stalker competition you’ve got going on?”

Your heart flutters pleasantly as he subtly leans closer, the sandalwood of his cologne threatening to overtake your senses. Thankfully, you manage to gather enough brain cells to string the right words together and form a cognitive response. “I’ll have to confer with the other judges and get back to you on that. At the very least, we might be able to award you some bonus points.”

”And who exactly are these other judges?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, in the interest of keeping things fair.”

Steve groans dramatically and shakes his head, that charming smile putting you on the verge of swooning. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

There it is again— your laugh, so genuine and light. He’s made women laugh plenty of times before, but most often it was obviously that thing people do where they fake laugh at all of one's jokes while flirting to appeal to their ego. Yours, on the other hand, makes Steve feel like he’s sitting in front of the fireplace with the softest blanket wrapped around him on a snow fallen day each time he hears it. He adores the way your nose scrunches slightly.

“Yo, Jamie Lee!” A voice breaks the spell, forcing your surroundings to be brought back into focus.

You look in the direction of the sound to find Oliver, one of your closest friends, leaning out the door of Theater One behind Steve, that trademark glint of mischief in his eyes as a smirk plays on his lips. Of course, he knew exactly who Steve was and the context of the challenge you’d given him regarding your identity— and you knew him, he definitely would at least be tempted to mess with you. You shoot your best death glare of warning in his direction, which Oliver pointedly ignores, unphased.

Distracted, you don’t notice Steve’s self doubt trickle back into his mind. He recognizes Oliver from your late night ice cream run to the supermarket the week before, and, similar to that night, reminds himself he has absolutely no reason to be jealous of the apparent closeness you share with him. It’s not a malicious or possessive jealousy, more so a kind of sadness over the time he’s had with you while Steve didn’t even know you existed until a few weeks ago.

“Tell your stalker he'll have to come back later. There’s been a popcorn explosion in row C and some major slushy spillage in the back, and since you lost—”

“Yeah, yeah, save the gloating, Oliver.” You flip him off playfully with one hand and make a shooing motion with the other. “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t take too long,” Oliver winks suggestively, making you roll your eyes. “The next showing is in 20 minutes.”

Steve quirks a brow, prodding you to explain further as you squat to finish the last few bags of candy. You flush with a pleasant surprise when he drops down to help without a word. “It’s a silly story involving boredom while closing together Friday, and a bet to see who could finish their jobs first. I lost, so I have to clean the big messes for a week. So thanks to Oliver, it seems you get to live to stalk me another day.” Display restocked, Steve rises and extends a hand, and fleeting as it may be, the gentle squeeze he gives yours sends a shiver down each of your bodies. The effects of it linger as you even as you start toward the theater and let go. “Thanks. I guess, I’ll, uh, see you around, Harrington.”

“Until next time, sweetness.” The name falls out before he can stop himself for the second time, worry pricking at the hairs on the back of his neck.

But then you beam at him, the pink in your cheeks warming in the sweetest way, and the churning of anxiety is swiftly replaced with butterflies. “Looking forward to it.”

Needless to say, Robin was sufficiently creeped out by his significantly boosted mood which lasted the rest of the day.

Steve’s next brilliant idea was to look in his yearbook. He now had each divine detail of your perfect face etched into his memory, it would obviously take no time at all to find it amongst the quite small graduating class of Hawkins High. All that would be left is to read the name conveniently printed below the picture. Easy, right? Again, could not be more wrong.

To start, he had no idea where the damn thing even was. Keeping track of things was not exactly a mastered skill of Steve’s. Maybe that had something to do with this “be more responsible” kick his parents had been forcing onto him as of late.

It took him almost two whole days to find it, and for Steve, those two days felt like agonizing weeks.

As fate would have it, the Harrington boy had those two days off from work. Usually, he preferred not to be anywhere near that place on his days of freedom, and yet he still returned to Starcourt each afternoon under the guise of watching over the kids in hopes of talking to you again, but he came to the disappointing conclusion that you had a similar schedule. He even attempted salvaging these trips by trying to persuade your coworkers into revealing that small, yet seemingly impossible bit of information without you around. Much to Steve’s disappointment, you'd already accounted for this and sworn them all to secrecy in the vein of “not making it so easy”, so he came up empty.

Back on the yearbook track, Steve had torn apart every last inch of his room searching for it— multiple times, by the way— and still, nothing. Several other innocuous items were uncovered throughout this thorough hunt, such as forgotten homework and some of his dad’s old Playboys he’d stolen and hidden in his closet all the way back in middle school, but the one thing he actually needed to locate continued to evade him.

The next place to incur his desperate rummaging was his beemer, the only other logical option he could think of. No seat or corner of his trunk was left untouched, and still, no such luck. Just as the sky begins to shift into the blended watercolor of warm pinks and purples of the setting sun, Steve finally slams the trunk shut and turns to dejectedly lean back against it, racking his brain for anything he could try short of begging you for pity the next time he saw you. It felt as if there were some greater force somewhere actively willing him to fail.

Never in his life had he had to put this much effort into asking someone out, let alone getting her name. With each failed attempt so quickly followed by another, his disappointment grows, and for the briefest of moments, he allows the doubt to creep in. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him it just wasn’t meant to be— not because anything was wrong with you, but because he was the undeserving one.

He thought he’d found “the one” with Nancy last year, and it’s no secret how that ended, with her finally going to the person she was actually supposed to be with the whole time. Though admittedly, while he did love her, a lot of that stemmed from this romanticization of the high school sweethearts who live happily ever after passed onto him from a young age. He now knew it was never going to work out that way for them in the long run, neither of their hearts were fully in it. But still, theirs had been Steve’s first meaningful relationship, the only one to last more than a couple of casual weeks before he’d end it with them, and the loss of it cut deeply into his self confidence.

What would he even do if he did uncover your name in time? Surely, even if you did say yes to giving him a chance at the end of all this, he’d just end up doing something to screw it up. Maybe you’d be better off if he gave up now, before he had the chance to complicate everything.

But then, that alluring smile of yours, the goosebumps that pricked at his entire body whenever you touched him, the infectious brightness in your eyes each time you looked at him infiltrated his brain. As selfish of him as it may be, he knew he needed to try. Even if whatever you and he ended up building is temporary, you were worth it. That much he was confident about.

His morale refreshed, Steve is hit with a realization: he couldn’t find the damn yearbook because he didn’t have it.

Knowing he wasn’t that great at being organized, Dustin had taken it after graduation for “safekeeping and research purposes”. There was just one problem— Dustin was away at some nerdy science camp for three more weeks. No way was Steve waiting nearly a month for that kid to come back. Luckily, he knew of someone else who’d have a copy of the Hawkins High yearbook.

Nancy.

─── ̩̩͙✩

tags: @johnricharddeacy

[eideticboywonder]

TERRIFIER 3 (2024) dir. Damien Leone

[eideticboywonder]

Aw, come on, kid. Start building some memories.

LADY AND THE TRAMP: Lady + Tramp + moments

[eideticboywonder]

I just don’t understand Christmas, I guess.

A CHARLIE BROWN CHRISTMAS (1965) dir. Bill Melendez

[eideticboywonder]

debating very hard abt whether i should break this into a third part or keep going and publish a very long part 2 for "sweet like honey" 🕴️

[eideticboywonder]

eddie is so needy in the mornings. you’re too sleepy. 18+ pls

There’s a warm, hazy sensation enveloping you. Your eyes are closed but you can tell that sunlight is peeking in through your bedroom windows, the backs of your eyelids illuminated.

The weight of another body hovers over you, a leg slung over yours, a mouth on your temple. You stir slightly, eyes remaining shut, a soft groan escaping you.

The pair of lips is relentless, kissing their way across your cheekbone, your nose, reaching your other cheek and then moving up to your forehead. The brush of a nose featherlight across your skin, face scrunching when kisses are pressed to your closed eyes.

“Babyyyy,” you grumble quietly, though not nearly as displeased as you may sound. Your soft smile gives you away.

“Hi,” Eddie’s voice greets you, slightly gravelly still with sleep, yet comforting nonetheless.

His lips finally find your own, leaving a few quick pecks in succession until you give in and kiss back.

You open one eye, slowly testing the waters of the waking world, before allowing the other to open. A mop of dark curly hair and the prettiest brown eyes come into view, bringing a bigger smile to your face.

“G’morning,” you say, sighing and closing your eyes again.

The warmth from the morning sunlight paired with the blanket your lower half is still snug under keeps you trapped in your sleepy daze. Eddie’s mouth dipping down from your chin to your neck makes your skin vibrate, your body nearly humming in a pleased response. You feel like you’re swimming in warm honey, that golden viscous ooze folding in around you.

“C’mon sleeping beauty, stay with me,” he says softly, letting his teeth graze lightly over your pulse point. “It’s so boring being awake by myself.”

His voice keeps you tethered to reality, the soft kneading of his hands on your skin keeping your senses active.

A puff of air leaves your nose, a near-silent laugh. “Why don’t you just come back to sleep with me,” you suggest, a shiver running down your spine when you feel the backs of his knuckles grazing down your sides.

“Oh, but you don’t really want that, do you?” he asks, a teasing edge to his tone. He pulls the blanket back, nudging your legs apart to sit between them.

Your eyes crack open again, just barely, taking in the sight of him as he moves lower and lower down your body. His pretty pink lips press to your stomach, bare for him after he nosed the fabric of your thin top out of his way.

“What’re you doin’ Eds?” you answer his question with a question, nearly melting when his soft eyes look up at you.

“Wakin’ you up,” he says simply, fingers hooking gently into the waistband of your underwear.

You feel your hips raise on instinct, letting him pull the garment low enough to give him access to your center.

His touches are gentle, lacking in any urgency. His fingers softly trace over your hipbones, his body lowering itself onto the mattress between your thighs. You come alive when his hot breath fans against your core, kickstarting your brain.

He lets his tongue slip out to taste you, licking languidly up through your folds. Your fingers find the sheets, twisting them up into bunches at the first indication of pleasure.

Your eyelids close once more, pinching shut as his tongue explores you further, but this time sleep doesn’t threaten to pull you back into its clutches. You’re awake, desperate for more of his loving, dying to feel every lick and touch to the fullest degree.

A moan escapes you, drawn-out as your head tips back, pressing further into your pillow.

“Awake now, baby?” Eddie asks, lips pursing around your clit and starting to suck.

“Fuck. Yes,” you pant, back arching as he works the sensitive bud.

“Good. Cause ‘m just getting started.”

[eideticboywonder]

Make You Mine

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Kinktober 2024

CW: Breeding kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex

Soft hands dug into your hips, long fingers caressing your skin as his soft lips fell against the crook of your neck. Your heart was beating roughly in the side of your neck, your lungs tightening at the feeling of his flesh against your own.

The small gap between you and Steve felt warm, overwhelmingly hot as electricity trickled in between your bodies. You moved to touch his chest, drifting your fingers through his chest hair as you pressed your hips up to meet his thigh against your clothed pussy. 

“Steve,” You exhaled roughly, tilting your head as he continued to nip and suck at the sensitive area on the side of your neck, “I want you.” You told him, desperate to get your slick panties off of your legs. 

“What was that?” He teased you, shifting up a bit so he could look at you. You breathed in the look of him, admiring his swollen lips and flushed cheeks. His hair was messy from your fingers being knitted through his thick locks. 

“I want your cock, daddy.” You added slyly, confidence brewing in your bones at the pitchy groan you receive in response. His touch is harder this time, pushing you further up the bed as he quickly works on tugging your panties off of your legs.

He gave your lips a quick little peck, his mouth curling into a smirk before he pressed kisses across your neck again. Then to your collarbone. He lingered across the curve of your boobs, kissing across the soft skin before he licked your nipples. 

You bit your lip, feeling his groans spreading through your skin as he wrapped his lips delicately around your nipples. He traced your hardening buds with his tongue, reaching down to squeeze his cock before he continued on. 

His lips moved further down your body, kissing across the curve of your ticklish ribs and your stomach. He presses your knees far apart as he reaches your pretty pussy, slowly dragging his tongue flat across your folds in one teasing motion.

You shake in response, whimpering as your clit throbs in anticipation. He smirks as he pulls away, fully proud of himself as he positions himself between your legs. You breathed out, feeling the intense weight of pleasure sitting on top of you as his hard cock fell against your cunt.

“Please, daddy,” You pouted out your lips, fluttering your eyelashes as you looked up into his big brown eyes. They seemed darker now, lustful as he rutted his hips forward, “Wanna feel you so badly.”

“Jesus,” He groaned as you reached down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. You bit down on your bottom lip, giving his heavy dick a slow stroke before you pressed his pink tip against your slick hole, “You want daddy to fuck you?”

“Mhm,” You hummed in anticipation, gaping at the slow stretch of your pussy adjusting around his thick girth, “Please, please. Feels so good.” You moaned as you pushed him in deeper, your lips spreading in bliss as he gripped the back of your thighs.

“Fuck,” He groaned, his expression relaxing into pleasure as he pushed your knees up towards your chest. His eyelashes fluttered softly, capturing the hazy look in his eyes, “You’re so good, honey. You feel so good for me.” He gasped, licking at his bottom lip as he pressed into you deeper.

You gaped at the tight feeling, your knees pressed up towards your chin as the tip of his cock pressed against your spongy walls. You shook as his balls fell flat against your skin, your walls stretching around his girth as he throbbed inside of you. 

“God,” You whimpered, digging your fingers into the mattress for some sort of support, “Fuck me, daddy. Please.” You begged urgently, feeling impatient. You needed him to move, needed to hear him desperate and pleading.

Your eyes stayed locked on his face as he slowly rutted into you, pulling his cock out just an inch or two before he was slamming back into you. Your head fell back onto the pillows in bliss, your body sliding against the sheets as he dragged you along the curve of his cock. 

You could feel yourself leaking along his long cock, drenching his balls as his thrusts became harder and deeper. You could feel him hitting against your g-spot, making your clit throb as white hot pleasure spread through your body. 

His head hung over yours, so close yet so far as the prettiest sounds left his lips. You admired his features, almost starstruck as the sound of your bodies meeting filled the room. It was filthy, wet and sloppy at the same time. You wanted more, needed more. 

“You feel so good daddy,” You praised him, feeling like you were unable to breathe from how tightly he was holding your knees up towards your head, “Right there!” You squeaked out, jolting in awe as he continued to grind his cock up against your bundle of nerves. 

Your thighs were burning as Steve pressed his weight further upon you, groaning loudly as he rutted his cock further into your slick cunt. His eyebrows were furrowed together, lips parted in awe as he pulled you closer to him. 

“Gonna fill you up,” He promised, grunting heavily as his thrusts fell out of rhythm, “Gonna breed this slutty pussy.” He huffed, drool sliding from the corner of his lips as he spoke out of desperation. You whined as his spit fell onto your chest, mingling with your sweat as he buried you deeper into the mattress. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You panted, clinging to him tightly as your cunt squeezed roughly around his girth, “Knock me up, daddy. Please, please.” Your pleasure was too overwhelming, your pussy throbbing around him as you felt your muscles clenching underneath the weight of his body. 

You cried out, shivering and shaking as your climax hit you roughly and unexpectedly. You shook around him, cumming intensely as he drove his cock harder into you. His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud to ride out your orgasm.

“Oh God,” You squeaked out, your pleasure feeling so intense that you felt the need to cry, “Just like that.” You moaned, still trembling as he rutted into you harder. He was pressed into the deepest parts of you, his balls digging into your skin with each frenzied thrust. 

“You’re so good for me, honey,” He praised, making you feel weak as his moans grew pitchier, “You feel so fucking good. She’s so fucking wet, so tight.” He panted as he dropped his head, whimpering as he squeezed his fingertips into your thighs. 

“Cum inside me,” You begged, pouting your lips out as his head fell back in bliss, “Please daddy, wanna feel your cum.” You brought your hands up to his biceps, squeezing as his sounds of pleasure grew more desperate and tense.

He pressed into you even further, digging your legs so harshly into your chest that you momentarily couldn’t breathe. His moans were broken up, whiny and pitchy as his cock pulsed inside of your slick walls. He came with a cry, coating your cunt with his thick spunk.

You breathed out roughly, cooing as you rubbed your nails gently across his pulsing muscles. You pressed your lips into a little grin, enjoying the quick way he was breathing. It made you feel good, confident.

He slowly opened his eyes towards you, teeth showing as he huffed and gave you a warm smile. Your insides twisted and turned, in awe of the look that he was sending you.

“Wow,” He sighed, still smiling as he looked down at the mess that was connecting your bodies, “Can we do that again?” 

[eideticboywonder]

day 17 - praise [s.harrington]

steve harrington x fem!reader

content warnings; straight into p in v, no mentions of any prep (but we all know steve’s always gonna be at least eating you out first), cumming inside

notes; so so sweet, just lots of him loving on you

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

missionary had become his favourite position the first time he did it with you. he was obsessed with being able to see your every reaction, every little micro expression as you gasped and shook beneath him. he loved that you could just lay there for him, never wanting you to unnecessarily exert yourself. for him, there was nothing better than pressing his body as close to yours as possible, limbs entwined together.

he’d had you on your back, legs slung over his arms, hair a tangled mess on his pillows, face scrunched up in delicious pleasure, all kiss-bitten lips and rosy cheeks.

he nearly came when you opened your eyes slowly, before fluttering your lashes up at him, doe eyed and beautiful.

“doing so good for me, baby,” his voice honeyed, unable to hold back his love as he spoke.

you preen under him, face flushing further at his words, trying to hide yourself in his neck. he gently pried you from him, kissing down the bridge of your nose before pressing one to your lips.

“yeah? you like that? like being told you’re my good girl?”

you nodded bashfully, gently chewing on your lip before pouting, desperate for more kisses. he quickly obliged, always doing everything he could to make his pretty girl happy, and you were quite happy to let him fawn over you.

“i love you, stevie,”

“i love you too, so much, sweetheart,”

his hips rolled into yours, giving you his hand when you grasped at the sheets, needing something to hold onto as your high steadily built up. his moans mixed with yours, both of you trusting enough to let out every sound you desired.

eyes locking, you watched eachother in your most vulnerable states, your eyes threatened to roll back at the sight of him, so overwhelmed, but wanting nothing more than to watch him come inside you, to watch his mouth gape and gaspy moans to tumble out.

he felt your walls tighten around him, legs shaking as you started to peak, head tipping back against the pillow.

“there you go, baby, cum for me, that’s it,”

you gushed around him, bliss washing over you in waves, half conscious of him talking you through it, saccharine words of love, constant praises as he watched you fall apart under his touch, before finally allowing himself to go over the edge too, pearly cum spurting inside you with a long moan.

he slowly pulled out, heavy cock twitching when his spend began to spill out of your still pulsing cunt, dripping down your ass as you whined at the empty feeling. shushing you softly, he carefully removed your legs from over his arms before flopping down next to you.

with a lot of steve’s help, you turned onto your side, clinging to his body. he wrapped himself around you, tucking your head into his damp neck, his bare skin glued to yours. his fingers trailed over you, lids threatening to close at your sleepy noises, slowly drifting in the serenity of it all.

his nose nuzzled against yours, before giving you a long, sweet kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, his hands cradling your face, letting you succumb to sleep.

[eideticboywonder]

SCREAM ↳ 1.01 “Pilot”

[eideticboywonder]

AH if ur taking halloween requests for steve… how about steve and reader going to a haunted house and him “protecting” reader (he’s a scaredy cat) or something of the like

Yes halloween requests for all! Thank you gorgeous <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 496 words

Haunted houses are perhaps the best excuse for hand holding ever contrived. Really, you might need to find the creator of this one and send them a fruit basket or something, because Steve has not loosened his grip on your hand since you went in the front door. It’s a bit harsh, actually, almost bruising, but you like him just enough not to mind. 

“There’s definitely something around that corner,” Steve mutters. The hand not holding yours is flexing like he wishes he had a weapon. “Definitely.” 

“They don’t have corners in these places for nothing,” you agree. “Don’t, like, hit anyone, okay?”

“M’not gonna hit anyone.” His steps grow slower as you come to the corner, as if he thinks he’s going to sneak up on whatever’s waiting for you. 

You’re both peering around the corner when the clown surprises you from behind. 

You shriek delightedly as Steve whips around, yanking you behind him. You’re pressed between the wall and his backside, a not-unpleasant place to be. You set a hand on his shoulder, peeking over as the clown howls with deranged laughter and your boyfriend wields him off with frantic hand gestures. 

“Shit,” Steve pants once the thing sinks back into the shadows. 

“Yeah.” You’re similarly breathless, anxious giggles fizzing in your chest. “Shit.” 

“Where the fuck did he come from?” He steps away from the wall, from you, and turns to look at you. Pushes a hand through his hair. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

You shake your head. “Nope.” You pull him closer by his hand, kissing him on the cheek. “That was very sweet, how you protected me.” 

Steve makes a quiet scoffing sound, but even in the dark you can see some color rising to his face. “Uh, yeah, that’s kind of my job,” he says, like duh. 

You smile and move your grip up his arm, squeezing his bicep as you advance forward. His skin is smooth and the muscle firm under your touch. Steve’s hair glows purple as you finally go around the corner, thinking, logically, that the big scare in this portion of the house is over. 

You’re wrong. A woman in a tattered wedding dress jumps out at you, shrieking bloody murder, and Steve lets out a short scream as he jumps back. 

“Ow! Steve, my toes!” 

“Gah!” Steve reacts as though this is equally as scary as the bloodied bride, jumping off your toes and holding out his hands to keep her at bay. She streaks past the two of you, going to haunt some other part of the house. 

“Sorry.” Steve isn’t looking at you now, head on a swivel for the next threat. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” You pat his arm, stepping around him. “I’m fine. I think I should probably take the lead for a while, though.” 

Steve grabs your shoulder before you can get far, urging you back behind him. “I really don’t think that’s going to help.”

[eideticboywonder]

Sleeping Conditions

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: established relationship, some allusions to smut, reader has breasts, fluff, fluff, more fluff, some anxiety

author's note: i felt the need to validate my own specific sleeping conditions with this little blurb that ended up being longer than expected...we're not high maintenance! we just wanna sleep!

word count: 2.6k

The weatherman had jovially warned the city of Hawkins this morning about a bit of rain that was supposed to roll in later on in the evening.  A slight drizzle, just enough to water the grass but nothing to worry about.

Except, the weatherman seemed to have underestimated today’s weather, because you were currently sat down on the couch at your boyfriend’s house watching the torrential downpour that was occurring outside his living room window. 

Normally, this would be cause for celebration.  An impromptu sleepover at Steve’s house! Yay!

But you were not celebrating, no.  You were sort of freaking out, actually.

You’re able to fully recognize how strange it is for someone to have such specific sleeping conditions in the way that you do, but what are you supposed to do?  It’s the only way you can really get a good night’s rest!

In your perfect world, you’re in your room where the thermostat is set at 69.  There is not one light source in sight, you even make sure to throw a t-shirt over the tiny light on your alarm clock.  Alone in your completely pitch black room, you’re able to sleep comfortably in just a pair of comfy panties.  You love the way your two blankets, duvet, and jersey sheet set feel on your bare skin. 

 In order for you to be able to fall asleep the pillow under your head has to be just right, you have to have a slightly flatter pillow parallel to your body, your smallest blanket has to be tucked between your legs in a specific way, and the blankets have to be adjusted based on how hot or cold you feel on that particular night.  

When plans are made for you to sleep somewhere else, you always make sure to bring your two pillows and your smallest blanket, but you still can’t seem to sleep that well unless you’re really tired. 

It’s really a lot.

So naturally, with all of this in mind, you’re freaking out about having to stay the night at Steve’s house tonight. 

You love him, you really do, but your relationship with him is still relatively new.  You’ve only spent the night together a handful of times, and those nights of sleep for you were always aided by the effects of one too many drinks at the Hideout with friends or a passionate night of lovemaking. 

You’ve never had a normal night in with Steve before.

And he is so excited about it.

Steve’s been craving any ounce of domesticity with you that he can get.  Sure, he’s made you romantic dinners before and you’ve come over for movie nights a bunch of times, but it’s never been just a normal sleepover.

He can’t wait to watch you go through your night routine, to cuddle up with you in bed as you both fall asleep, and then to wake up to you tomorrow morning.

He was all too excited to alert you to the fact that you wouldn’t be able to drive home safely tonight, and that you’d most likely have to stay the night with him.

-

You’re thankful Steve hasn’t noticed how anxious you’re becoming as the night goes on, because he’s so sweet that you could cry.

He watched you through the mirror as you brushed your teeth together side by side.  

The huge grin on his face made it hard for him to get to his back teeth, but he’d gladly sacrifice one night of dental hygiene for you any time. 

He sat on the toilet and gazed adoringly at you as you washed your face and brushed your hair.  

Steve was happy that the travel sized toiletries he’d purchased for you a couple weeks ago were being put to use.

You took a longer time than you normally would in an attempt to delay the inevitable, but Steve was on an opposite mission.

When you were finished in the bathroom, Steve ran into his bedroom to fix up his bed and lay out a t-shirt for you to sleep in. 

You stood there nervously, holding the t-shirt in your slightly shaking hands.  You know you won’t be able to sleep in this, but would Steve be comfortable with you sleeping practically naked?  He might take it as a sign that you want to have sex or something, but you’re feeling much too anxious to get into that headspace right now.  

Steve notices you standing at the foot of his bed, staring down at his faded Hawkins Athletics t-shirt in your hands.

“Everything okay, baby?”

Your head shoots up to meet his eyes, quickly trying your best to wipe the upset look off of your face.  You nod your head and smile over at Steve.  

Steve shoots you a warm grin, he’s not convinced that you’re totally fine, but he’s assuming you’re just a little nervous about the storm or staying the night with him.  

You retreat back into his bathroom to change out of your clothes and into his t-shirt, which Steve finds a little odd.  He’s seen every square inch of your body, and you’ve certainly changed in front of him before, but he shrugs and goes back to fluffing his pillows for you.  

Meanwhile, you’re taking comfort in the smell of Steve on his shirt, holding it up to your nose and taking deep breaths over and over hoping to calm yourself down.

So what if you can’t sleep tonight?  You’ve definitely survived through sleepless nights before.

But Steve would definitely notice if you couldn’t sleep.  He’s so caring and attentive.  

That means that he’ll be awake worrying about why you’re not asleep, which keeps him from getting any sleep, and then you’ll both just be awake and miserable all night long.

Maybe you should just pretend to fall asleep until he actually falls asleep.  

You’re startled by a gentle knock on the door.

“Sweetheart?  I’ve got the bed ready for us.”

You take one more deep breath, exiting the bathroom to envelope Steve in a tight hug around his chest.

He stumbles back a bit at the force of your affections, but is quick to wrap his strong arms around you with a warm chuckle into your hair.

“Ready for bed?” he asks you.

You sigh into his chest.  “As I’ll ever be.”

-

After half an hour of cuddling with Steve, you’ve given up on all attempts to get comfortable.

It’s not that you weren’t comfortable in Steve’s arms, far from it.  The feeling of his naked chest rising and falling against your back and his thick arms surrounding you was possibly the only thing keeping you from crawling out of your skin at the moment. 

Steve’s felt your irregular breathing and squirming for the past ten minutes, but he didn’t want to distract you just in case you were on the cusp of falling asleep.  It was the slightly irritated sigh you let out that let him know that something was wrong.

You knew you shouldn’t have sighed like that, but you couldn’t help it.  The pillow under your head wasn’t right, the blanket on your legs was too warm, and you could feel the tag on Steve’s t-shirt resting at the back of your neck.  You felt Steve’s arms tighten just a bit around you, you had hoped he’d been asleep.

“Hey, you okay?” he whispers into your ear.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay,” you answer, “just trying to get comfy.”

You feel Steve rise to one elbow behind you and you turn your head to look up at him as he clicks on the lamp on his nightstand.

“What can I do to help?”

The sweet, adoring look on his face is what causes the dam to break, and your eyes fill with tears.

Steve is instantly alarmed, rushing to hold your face gently in one of his big hands.

“Baby, baby,” he coos, “Hey, what’s wrong, huh?”

You roughly wipe your face with the heels of your palms, and let out a trembling breath.

“It’s nothing, Steve.  Let’s just go to bed, okay?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow together as he frowns down at you.  “Baby, I’m sorry but something’s obviously wrong.  Tell me what it is so I can fix it.”  He brings his hand back up to your cheek and lets his thumb stroke your skin back and forth soothingly.  You decide to let it all out.

“It’s just that–I can’t sleep here.”

Steve looks at you confused.  “I–you’ve slept here before, right?”

“I mean, yes, but also no.  It’s all so complicated Stevie.”

He sees that your walls are starting to come down with the use of your favorite pet name for him.  He loves when you call him Stevie, it’s only when you’re being soft and sweet with him that you use it.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you, baby, please.  Maybe I won’t think it’s so complicated.”  Steve strokes the hair next to your ear and speaks to you in his lower, warmer, sleepy voice.  It’s like a balm to all of your worries.

“I have these very specific sleeping conditions at home.  If it’s not just right, then I can’t sleep.”

Steve nods his head.  “What kind of conditions are we talking about?”

You take a deep breath, readying yourself to lay it all out on the table in front of Steve, hoping and praying that he doesn’t think that you’re some kind of high maintenance freak when it’s all over.

“I can’t sleep with a shirt on, it feels weird on my skin.  And I can’t sleep without my pillows from my bed.  Or my blanket between my legs.  And I feel all hot and itchy and it’s usually so cold and dark in my room.”  You’d been ranting while making an effort to not meet Steve’s eyes, worried at what you might see there.  When you finally do look at him, he’s hard to read.

“I know it’s a lot and it’s probably too much and I’m probably too much and-”

You're interrupted by Steve placing his pointer over your lips to silence you.  The firm stare he’s fixing you with commands of your attention.

“First of all, you are not, ever too much.  I can handle anything you throw at me, baby.  I swear.”

The edges of your lips quirk up in the beginnings of a smile, Steve takes his finger from your lips and goes back to holding the side of your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all of this before we laid down?”

You huff softly and look away, embarrassed to have been so scared to tell him about your anxieties when he’s obviously the greatest, sweetest, most understanding boyfriend on the planet. 

“I guess I was just nervous that you’d think I was high maintenance.”

Steve scoffs.  “You’re saying this to the guy who used to wake up an hour earlier for school in the mornings so that he could do his hair every day.”  Steve playfully growls into your neck when he says this, and you can’t hold back your giggles.

He looks at you, still stroking your hair, and smiles before planting a kiss on your lips and pulling away with a ‘mwah.’

“What can we do to make it better, hm?”

You think for a bit, and then sheepishly ask, “Would it be okay if I slept without my shirt?”

Steve blushes and blinks at you a few times, shocked that you’d even feel like you had to ask.

“Of course, baby.  I’d never say no to that, c’mon now.”  You both sit up, giggling softly as he helps you take your his shirt off.  Steve seems to be trapped in a daze, his eyes glazing over as he takes in all of your newly naked skin.

“What’s next?” he slurs, still staring at your chest.  You laugh and playfully shove his shoulder, breaking him out of his trance.

You look around at the bed and his room, biting your lip while you think of how else to make yourself more comfortable. 

“Do you have any extra pillows maybe?” you ask, bringing your knees to your chest and resting your chin on top of them.

Steve does a quick survey of his room, then remembers that he might’ve seen some in his closet.  He darts out of bed and makes his way over to his closet to search for them.

You take this opportunity to bask in the love you have for him.  In the warm light of his lamp, you watch as the muscles of his upper body flex and ripple while he rummages through his closet.  You can’t believe that this beautiful man is not only yours, but that he’s going through all of this effort just to make sure you can sleep comfortably with him in his bed.  You’re so unbelievably lucky.

Steve turns around to triumphantly hold up two pillows for you to inspect.  

“Which one?” He asks. 

“Both, if that’s okay.”  He nods and hurries back over to the bed, pillows in hand.  You take one and place it on top of the one you had been laying on, trying to copy the fullness of your pillow at home.  You take the second pillow and place it between your legs, for your right leg to rest on top of.  You’d always loved sleeping on your side, but hated the feeling of your thighs sticking together.

Steve tries to be good, but he can’t help himself from watching your naked breasts move while you readjust the pillows to your liking.  He feels a warmth in his chest as he observes you making yourself comfortable in his bed, and he wishes for many, many more nights like this.  

You adjust the blankets around your leg so that your leg isn’t completely covered, and you finally lay down with a huff.  

“Better?” Steve asks as he leans over to turn his lamp off.  He’s happy to slide behind you once again, relishing in the feel of your bare skin on his.

“I think so.”

Everything is fine, really.  It’s just that the pillow in between your thighs keeps slipping away.  Ugh.

“You think so?” Steve tickles your side with his fingers, he loves the sound of your girlish giggles.

“It’s just the pillow between my legs.  It won’t stay put.”

Steve takes a breath, assessing the situation.  He doesn’t really have any other throw blankets lying around, and he makes a mental note to buy some more before the next time you come over.  Then, he gets an idea.

“Can I try something?”

You turn your head towards him and nod, curious about what his idea is.

Steve takes the pillow from your legs and pulls it out from under the comforter, tossing it at the end of the bed.  He then grabs your right thigh and lifts it a bit.  You begin to question his plan, but then you feel the warmth of his right thigh sliding between yours.  Steve hikes his knee up a little higher on the bed, so that his thigh fits snuggly in between your legs.  

“Oh,” you say, cheeks heating up at the feeling of his thick, muscular thigh against your core.

You adjust your hips a bit, and then at last relax into Steve’s embrace, comfy at last.

Steve laughs smugly, “Is that alright?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, smiling and already feeling sleepier by the second.

“Goodnight sweetheart,” Steve whispers into your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“G’night Stevie,” you reply.

The last thing you feel before drifting off into dreamland are Steve’s arms tightening around you, holding you as you sleep soundly all through the night.

taglist <3

@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @yujyujj @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics

[eideticboywonder]

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 | steve harrington x reader (feminine bodily descriptions used for reader but no gender identifying pronouns/names). some syrupy sweet soft touches & fluffy niceness <3

"What?"

Steve's lips curls into a small smile when he says it, tugging at the corners into a pretty soft stretch. You could stare at him for hours like this, the very definition of devotion, a picture of tenderness.

You’re peering at him under the blanket of night, heated naked bodies entwined in one another. Noses kissing, cushioned by the pillow you share beneath you.

You grin back at him, post-coital and brimmed with devoted bliss.

“You’re pretty.” It comes out as a whisper, a secret. You swear his honey eyes glimmer, a tiny glint in the corner that appears as the words pass your kiss-bruised lips. Steve rubs the tip of his nose to yours, completely love sick and gleaming from the inside out.

“You’re pretty too,” his lips stretch twice as wide. Happiness looks good on him; true, content, secure happiness that had come few and far between these past couple years.

You cup his flushed cheek in your palm, brushing your thumb pad at the high point of it, whilst his hands envelope the frame of your face.

“You think so?” you tease, radiating a similar rosy hue that encompasses the heated flesh beneath his palms. Steve’s skin almost glistens in the light, olive skin dusted peachy amongst the golden glow of his bedside lamp.

He hums an agreeable response, eyes dreamy and hooded when he glides his lips with yours the faintest amount, not even kissing, just touching, nudging back when you lean in.

“You’re such a flirt,” your chuckle tickles his cheeks that are sticky in the aftermath of intimacy, spreading over his parted mouth that’s so glossy and inviting.

“You think so?” he repeats, an airy sleepy mumble that rumbles at the back of his throat. It was way past 2am, but neither of you could bear to close your eyes, not when you’re so close, so warm, heads spinning and starstruck with one another.

You sigh when he tilts your head to the side at the same time, one that forms into a mellow groan as his lips press open and hot to the angle of your jaw. Down he goes, nurturing the still sore plums of fresh hickeys he had left merely an hour ago.

His fingers follow, of course. Coasting over the thudding of your pulse along the column of your neck, sweeping over your shoulders. He brushes his nails lovingly down the tops of your arms and back up again, an automatic and natural motion.

You tuck him into you as he travels lower, fingernails scraping delicately through his tousled hair, heavy breaths hidden against his scalp where your nose buries itself.

Your hands slip from his head, arms dropping crossed and flat above you as you stretch out for him, allowing access to every millilitre.

You’re putty in his hands, grinning when he peppers damp and open mouthed kisses along your sternum. He maps around each of your naked breasts, shifting himself even closer so he’s half leaning over you, reaching the corners of your ribcage.

He’s a little greedy with his hands, despite the deliberately lazy pace of sloven kisses, he tugs eagerly at the swell of your hips. He fills his palms with the doughy rolls at either side of your tummy, massaging the skin beneath his thumbs.

“Steve…” his name comes out as a subdued plea, a warning he was getting a little too close to where you were heating up for him again.

“Sorry,” a few pecks that come in quick succession over the plush of your belly, a purposeful wreath of loving around your belly button, “Just can’t get enough.”

[eideticboywonder]

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 | steve harrington x reader (feminine bodily descriptions used for reader but no gender identifying pronouns/names). some syrupy sweet soft touches & fluffy niceness <3

"What?"

Steve's lips curls into a small smile when he says it, tugging at the corners into a pretty soft stretch. You could stare at him for hours like this, the very definition of devotion, a picture of tenderness.

You’re peering at him under the blanket of night, heated naked bodies entwined in one another. Noses kissing, cushioned by the pillow you share beneath you.

You grin back at him, post-coital and brimmed with devoted bliss.

“You’re pretty.” It comes out as a whisper, a secret. You swear his honey eyes glimmer, a tiny glint in the corner that appears as the words pass your kiss-bruised lips. Steve rubs the tip of his nose to yours, completely love sick and gleaming from the inside out.

“You’re pretty too,” his lips stretch twice as wide. Happiness looks good on him; true, content, secure happiness that had come few and far between these past couple years.

You cup his flushed cheek in your palm, brushing your thumb pad at the high point of it, whilst his hands envelope the frame of your face.

“You think so?” you tease, radiating a similar rosy hue that encompasses the heated flesh beneath his palms. Steve’s skin almost glistens in the light, olive skin dusted peachy amongst the golden glow of his bedside lamp.

He hums an agreeable response, eyes dreamy and hooded when he glides his lips with yours the faintest amount, not even kissing, just touching, nudging back when you lean in.

“You’re such a flirt,” your chuckle tickles his cheeks that are sticky in the aftermath of intimacy, spreading over his parted mouth that’s so glossy and inviting.

“You think so?” he repeats, an airy sleepy mumble that rumbles at the back of his throat. It was way past 2am, but neither of you could bear to close your eyes, not when you’re so close, so warm, heads spinning and starstruck with one another.

You sigh when he tilts your head to the side at the same time, one that forms into a mellow groan as his lips press open and hot to the angle of your jaw. Down he goes, nurturing the still sore plums of fresh hickeys he had left merely an hour ago.

His fingers follow, of course. Coasting over the thudding of your pulse along the column of your neck, sweeping over your shoulders. He brushes his nails lovingly down the tops of your arms and back up again, an automatic and natural motion.

You tuck him into you as he travels lower, fingernails scraping delicately through his tousled hair, heavy breaths hidden against his scalp where your nose buries itself.

Your hands slip from his head, arms dropping crossed and flat above you as you stretch out for him, allowing access to every millilitre.

You’re putty in his hands, grinning when he peppers damp and open mouthed kisses along your sternum. He maps around each of your naked breasts, shifting himself even closer so he’s half leaning over you, reaching the corners of your ribcage.

He’s a little greedy with his hands, despite the deliberately lazy pace of sloven kisses, he tugs eagerly at the swell of your hips. He fills his palms with the doughy rolls at either side of your tummy, massaging the skin beneath his thumbs.

“Steve…” his name comes out as a subdued plea, a warning he was getting a little too close to where you were heating up for him again.

“Sorry,” a few pecks that come in quick succession over the plush of your belly, a purposeful wreath of loving around your belly button, “Just can’t get enough.”