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[sokka-simp]

Violent

Bakugo x reader

inspired by Violent by carolesdaughter

A/N: not me listening to this song on repeat for like 4 hours 🤠

Updated A/N: This was in my drafts from like 3 years ago or something and I'm bored rn so I decided to finish it even though it's shitty..

Warnings: cussing, divorce

Don’t make me run away out the back door

Katsuki constantly came home late or missed dates because of hero work. Which is ok, you know he loves his job and you’re going to support him in every way you can. But today was different, today was your first anniversary of being married. He swore that he would come home this time, that he already told people at his agency to have a different hero take over his patrol. But he obviously didn’t.

Because here you sat, alone, in the restaurant that Katsuki wanted to go to. Everyone in the fancy restaurant stared at you with pity or intrigued looks as if your life was a show. Your fingers dug into your other hand, desperately trying to cease the threatening tears as you got stood up—by your husband—again. You couldn’t do this anymore. This was the only time you thought Katsu was finally going to show up; he was finally going to put you first. You thought you could handle his absence but you just can’t. Not anymore. Your ever-growing tears blurred the soft lights from the diamond chandeliers above your head; your body trembled slightly, causing the intricately carved chair you were sitting on to shake on the polished, mahogany floor.

“Um, excuse me. Are you ok? Do you need anything?” A soft hand tapped your shoulder, and you turned to your waiter.

Your hand came up and wiped at your eyes before you smiled sadly up at her and shaking your head no. You mumbled out a ‘one minute’ before taking out your card and giving it to her, going to pay for your two full glasses of wine. Eyes pointed forward as you waited, you stared at the empty chair, a sight you were more used to than not. And then you realized something: Katsuki doesn’t love you, not the way you love him; Not enough to make you feel happy.

I want my clothes back

When Katsuki finally got home you were already undressed and lying on the couch. Sleeping next to Katsuki after everything he had consistently put you through seemed too hard; pretending everything was ok seemed too hard so you decided you'd demote yourself to the living room. You heard him when he got home since the tears hadn't been able to send you to sleep like usual. The realization tonight had caused pain unlike the other nights he had shown you he didn't care. Tonight the emptiness and anger kept you awake despite your best attempts to fall asleep. Katsuki moved from the front door and through the kitchen, then through the living room past you, and to the bedroom. He didn't bother to stop and check on you, he didn't bother to give a half-hearted apology like usual, he didn't bother to do anything. He doesn't care; he doesn't love you. That was it: you got up and grabbed your keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before moving towards the door and slipping your shoes on. You were being as loud as possible in hopes--unlikely as it would be--that Katsuki would come out and try to stop you. His wife, someone who loves him, someone who cooks for him and washes his hero suits, someone who cleans for him since he doesn't have enough time with all his work. But none of that truly matters to him and you were shown that tonight. He didn't come out, didn't even yell out a "y/n," he just ignored it. So you kept going; you grabbed your coat, and shed off Katsuki's hoodie, not wanting anything to do with him at the moment, and left your shared apartment.

You say you miss me, so then I drive back to you

It had been a few weeks since you had left the apartment. Katsuki had tried to get in touch the first few days but it was a pointless endeavor. You ignored him and had Mina stop him from visiting you at her house. It wasn't something you could handle; it wasn't something you could deal with after a year of pleading for effort and being ignored again and again. However, after a week or so you caved; he was your husband; 'your' Katsuki. You couldn't stay away for too long, which is why you stayed so long in the first place. The texts were full of promises: "I love you, I had to cover someone else's shift. I promise," "I'll do better, I promise," "It's the last time, I promise." They weren't working, you knew they weren't sincere. But after a while, you were broken down, and when he sent his last text you knew hoped it could change: "I miss you, y/n, please come home."

Don’t make me get violent

The first week or so you were back Katsuki showered you in kisses, cuddles, gifts, whatever you could name. But it quickly went away. It quickly turned back into "I have work," "I'll male it next time," "I told you our date wasn't confirmed, I have work and there's nothing I can do about it." After all his promises you were naive enough to believe him, but you wouldn't sit back and beg anymore. When he got home after another cancelled date you knew it was over.

"Katsuki, I can't do this anymore," you say solemnly "You promised it would be different, but this past year you've never changed. You leave me to sit and wait. To beg for your attention. I waited for hours on our fucking anniversary just for you not to show."

"I-" Katsuki started but you cut him off.

"No! You don't get to talk. I'm tired of your half-assed apologies, I'm tired of your little "I'll be better"s! It's not fair. And I'm done." You yell before taking a moment to calm your breathing. "We're done." You finish.

Katsuki looks shocked, annoyed even, but he doesn't look hurt. He doesn't look sad, remorseful, or even remotely upset. He just squares his jaw and looks at you. "We're done?" His voice is steady and it's obvious he doesn't care, he's just tired of this conversation after a long day of work.

"Yes" you mumble, shocked by his reaction and hurt by how obvious it is he doesn't care.

"I want my ring back" Katsuki grunts out, holding his hand out.

You pause in absolute disbelief and take it off before walking out. Katsuki doesn't deserve a reaction anymore.

You don’t listen anyways, I’ll be quiet

I don’t really feel like fighting

A/N: This is genuinely bad but I don't care, I just got bored and wanted to write. I also didn't proof read just a heads up.

[sokka-simp]

hang around the ice cream with steve during the summer and while you’re sitting there reading and eating ice cream and steve getting jealous

Idk what this is. I just love Steve and all I’ve been doing is imagining him being my husband. So enjoy this blurb

Warning: gets a little 😏😏 suggestive at the end (nothing major)

Steve doesn’t consider himself the jealous type. He’s Steve “the hair” Harrington. What does he have to be worried abt? I mean, the fact that he works at Scoops Ahoy and is basically a dad-mom to a bunch of 13 year olds is what makes him Steve “the hair” Harrington, right?

No, Steve was painfully aware of how uncool he became and the fact that a very cool guy walked in and set his sights on you made him crush an ice cream cone

“She looks like she’s bored, Steve. Don’t worry about it,” Robin says. “Um, how do you know? You’ve never flirted with a guy before,” Steve says.

“Disregarding that. Anyways, she’s not flirting. She looks so uncomfortable.”

“No, she’s smiling,” Steve says. “Yeah, fake smiling. You see how her eyes don’t squint and crinkle?” Robin points out.

“What? Have you been like, stalking my girlfriend?”

“Steve, shut up. Now look at her and tell me she’s enjoying the conversation.”

Steve looks at you and it looks like you’re enjoying the conversation. But you’re a nice person and it’s not like it was weird to have convos with random ppl in stores. You did it all the time. But this time it was different bc now you’re bc Steve was ruining his own day by being his own villain.

“Yo, Y/n!” Robin shouts. “What the hell are you doing!?” Steve exclaims.

“Steve needs to tell you something!” Robin pushes Steve out from behind the counter. She’s like 😁👍 and Steve know obvs is like 😡🖕🏻 but he goes over to you anyways.

“Hey, Stevie!” You grin. And now Steve feels so bad for ever thinking you would cheat. I mean, the way you smile at him just says it all.

“Hey, honey. How, uh, how’s it going?” Steve asks. “Good. Hey, have you met Frank?” You ask.

Steve paints on a tight smile. “Yeah, he’s in our uh, science class, right?”

“Woah, Steve, you’re dating her?” Frank asks. “Yeah, why?” Steve asks.

“That’s so cool! Man, after your downfall, we all thought you were such a nerd and a loser, but you’re with a total catch now!”

“Thanks, Frank. I appreciate it,” you smile.

While Steve tries to act friendly, he can see through Frank. He’s looking at you like how Steve used to look at girls before he learned some humility: like a piece of meat. It made Steve’s blood boil.

So Steve decides to be discreet and show Frank that you are Steve’s. He slips his arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek.

“Yep, Y/n is the best!” Steve beams. It’s not like he’s lying bc well, you are the best. He just really wants to punch Frank in the face.

You can totally see through Steve. You look at him like 🤨 “don’t you have a job to go back to?”

“What? Scooping ice cream doesn’t take that much effort. Robin has it covered,” Steve says.

“Yeah, dude, it’s kind of irresponsible to leave your post. I can keep Y/n company,” Frank says.

“Oh, I’m sure she’d rather be alone. Right, sweetie?” Steve hums.

You’re like 🙄 and not bc you like frank or anything, but it’s so obvious was Steve is doing, and him and Frank are basically having a staring contest and probably like a sword fight in each other’s minds. So you decide to play into Steve’s words.

“Steve is right, Frank. You did kind of interrupt my reading,” you gesture to your book.

“Right, my bad. Next time I’ll make sure you aren’t reading,” Frank smiles.

“Good idea,” you nod. “Well, I gotta get back to work. I’ll talk to you later?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, have fu - Steve!” You gasp as he crashes his lips onto yours. You can’t help but just melt into him. He’s Steve “the hair” Harrington, after all, and he’s completely stolen your heart <3 (aw so cute)

Frank obviously leaves with a glare on his face. You swear he mutters “Stupid Harrington stealing all the hot ones.”

You leave after a little bit but come back after Steve’s shift to pick him up.

“You hungry? My mom saved some leftovers for you,” you say.

“Yes, please. I’m starving,” he groans.

“Great. Why don’t you sleep over tonight?” You ask.

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles. He leans in to kiss you but you stop him. He pouts, “what? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, but we do have to talk,” you say. “I know, I’m sorry we’re out of your favorite ice cream. This stupid store sucks,” he says.

You smile, “it’s not that, Steve. Remember earlier with Frank?”

“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Well, I wanted to ask you why you did all that. Were going jealous?” You ask.

“Pffft me, jealous? Nah,” he shrugs.

You raise your brows. “Really, Steve? Making out with me right in front of him?”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t like it.”

“I did like it, but please tell me why were you jealous!”

He sighs. “I guess… I’m just not cool anymore. And I know that sounds shallow because I’ve been trying not to care so much, but I can’t help but care. I used to be this guy who everyone bowed down to. Now I’m just this guy who scoops ice cream and gets chocolate sauce all over him every time I try to drizzle.”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s like :(( “why are you laughing?”

“Honey, I know you miss being King Steve, but you have to know by now that all that was so insignificant and just stupid. Think about how you were a year ago: jackass, man whore, ass —”

“Must you go on,” he remarks. You grin, “sorry. Anyways, I know being popular was like the best thing ever, but think about what you have now. Best friends, who may be 13 year olds, but they’re all the best. You have a stable job, decent grades now, and a girlfriend who I recall is a catch.”

He sighs, “yeah, I know. I’m really thankful for you guys. I’m really happy that I’m babysitter Steve and not man-whore Steve, but I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what, baby?” You ask.

“You started dating me just after I became uncool. So you saw how cool I was and I’m afraid that one day you’ll miss that and end up going to someone cool like Frank.”

“Steve, are you serious?” You ask. “Yes, I am! I know it’s so stupid, but that’s how I feel,” he frowns.

“Hey, it’s not stupid, honey. I just don’t think you understand how cool you are.”

He’s like 🤨 “um, do you know who I am?”

“Yes, I do. You’re Steve “the babysitter” Harrington. The most caring, loving, tough guy out there. You’re a hero, Steve. Not only to me and the kids, but to the world. You’re so cool, and you know why? Because you gave up all that douchebag crap to be a great person.”

Ugh and he’s looking up at you with those big honey brown eyes with his cheeks painted pink. (I would die for him basically)

“Really?” He asks. “Mhm,” you smile. You wrap your arms around his middle and peck his cheek. “Not to mention, you, Steve Harrington, make a certain girl very happy in bed.”

He grins, “oh, yeah?” “Yep,” you giggle.

“Well, good, because I’ve heard that this girl is a real catch.”

“You’ve heard?” You scoff. “Yep, I’ve heard. I think I might have to take this girl out to really know, though,” he sighs.

“Oh, really? To where?” You ask.

“Her favorite restaurant at 7 pm tomorrow.”

“Are you asking me out but talking about me like I’m not here?” You smirk.

“If I was, would you say yes?” He asks. You giggle, “yes.”

“Great. Wear that little green dress, yeah?” He hums.

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dork.”

“But a cool one, right?”

You sigh, “yes, you are a cool dork.” You kiss him sweetly, but then pull away. “But, Frank is pretty cool, too. I don’t know, Stevie, he might got you beat.”

Steve wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. “We’ll see about that after I’m done with you tonight.”

[sokka-simp]

satellite

*takes place in season 4. gif is not mine. credit to owner.*

Spinnin' out, waitin' for ya to pull me in

I can see you're lonely down there

Don't you know that I am right here?

“I bet when you made plans to come home during spring break, this was the last place you expected to be.” Steve said beside you.

It made you laugh a little, “You’re absolutely correct. I didn’t plan on spending time in a creepy, old house with my ex.”

Since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, you’d been immersed in the chaos that plagued the entire town. Three teens had been killed so far. The town suspected the killer to be Eddie Munson but you knew better.

Something sinister was the culprit.

If only the residents of Hawkins, Indiana really knew what had been going on the last few years.

You found yourself back into the mess that was the world of the upside down after being away at school for the last eight months. This time was pretty terrifying.

And it was also super awkward after your breakup with Steve. The day you left for college, he promised you adamantly that he’d call and write everyday and you did the same. At first, things were great. He called at 7 pm every night. You both recapped your days to each other with more promises to do the same the next day.

Then the calls sort of stopped. You got swamped with classes and then trying to have a normal college experience. Steve got busy with work. It began to be difficult to have a long distance relationship.

Steve was the one to call it off.

He did it during a phone call that lasted maybe four minutes. It truly left you stunned. You figured that once you saw each other during Christmas break, things would go back to how they were. A breakup was the last thing that you expected to happen.

You avoided him at all costs when you went back to Hawkins through the holidays. It felt weird being back in town and not seeing him. You caught up with Robin but she avoided the topic altogether and you were so thankful for that.

You spent the next three months thinking about Steve everyday. You wondered if he had moved on. You surely didn’t.

Now, you were paired with him to investigate the creepy Creel house. You wanted to go searching through the house with Robin because after Steve, she had been the closest friend that you had. Instead, Robin went with Nancy while Dustin, Max, and Lucas all grouped up.

So reluctantly, you had to explore the house with the boy who broke your heart.

It felt absolutely eerie to be inside. You felt like your goosebumps had goosebumps. Every second that you spent in the house was far too long.

“So, uh, how have you been?” Steve asked as you both walked up the stairs.

“Are you trying to make small talk?”

Steve sighed, “I guess so. I mean, it’s been a while since we last spoke.”

It was strange to see how nervous he was to be in your presence. He was normally so confident that it surprised you to see how he was acting.

“Yeah, it’s been a while since you dumped me on the phone.” You said.

You saw Steve try to reach out and grab your hand but you quickly moved out of his way and tried to walk into one of the bedrooms.

“(Y/n), we should talk about it.” He said while walking behind you.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. He was so close but you didn’t let it stop you, “You want to talk about it? Fine, let’s talk. Let’s talk about how you completely broke my heart over the phone. Let’s talk about how you didn’t even have the decency to do it in person. Let’s talk about how I cried over you for weeks. I know we are young, but I really thought-“

The tears that were falling from your eyes surprised even you. You could tell that seeing you cry hurt Steve. He never liked to see you cry.

“You really thought, what?” He asked softly.

You took a deep breath, “I really thought that you were the one for me, Steve Harrington.”

Steve looked like he was getting emotional too. You might’ve seen him cry a couple of times in the two years that you spent together. The last being the day you left for college. He tried to be strong but the thought of not seeing you everyday sent him over the edge. He held onto you and cried until it was time for you to go.

“Baby, I-“

You shook your head, “You can’t call me that anymore.”

It was getting too intense. You needed a moment to gather yourself so you went into the closest bedroom. You flashed your light to try and see what was inside. A dusty bed and various other pieces of furniture surrounded the room.

You heard footsteps and saw Steve walk in. You had hoped that he would take a hint and leave you alone for a minute.

“I didn’t want to hold you back.” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

He stepped closer to you cautiously, “When you got accepted into college, I was so happy for you. Like, so proud. Then it set in that you were leaving and I was staying here.”

“But we talked about it. We were going to be fine.”

“I know. I know that. It got harder each day when I didn’t get to see you. The phone calls were great but, I just felt like I was holding you back. You were out having a great time and I’m still here stuck in Hawkins. I wanted you to have a great experience in school. I didn’t want you to resent me or anything.” Steve tried to explain.

“So you thought breaking up with me during a phone call was the best solution?” You questioned.

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.” Steve reached up and wiped away a tear that you weren’t even aware had fallen. The familiarity of his touch sent your heart into a tailspin.

“I could tell how heartbroken you were on the phone but I, as awful as this is going to sound, I wanted you to have as much fun at school and not think about your loser boyfriend stuck back at your hometown.” Steve confessed.

“I never saw you like that, Steve.”

“I know that but I couldn’t get the thoughts out of my head. You were out learning and meeting new people and I was stocking videos in a store. And I hated myself for doing what I did. I wanted to reach out and be there for you so many times but I couldn’t pick up the phone. I knew that you hated me.”

You shook your head, “I never hated you, Steve. I could never hate you.”

“You should.”

“I can’t.”

It felt weird having a heart to heart conversation in a literal haunted house, but it was a conversation that needed to be had.

“I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea.” Steve confessed.

“Despite everything that happened, I’ve missed you too.”

“You’re not-uh, you’re not seeing anyone?” He questioned.

You shook your head, “No, I still haven’t gotten over my ex boyfriend that has ridiculously great hair.”

That made Steve smile a little, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, he’s kinda an idiot but I still care about him.”

Steve played along, “I have heard that he’s an idiot.”

“He has some redeeming qualities though.”

“Oh yeah, like what?” Steve asked.

“He’s pretty sweet. Always makes me laugh. He even let’s me pick the snacks whenever we go to the movies.”

“Sounds like a pretty cool guy.”

“He is.”

“Do you forgive me? I know it’s the first conversation that we’ve had since the breakup and there should be more to make sure we are okay but I just want you to know how sorry I am. I want this to work.”

“I wish you could’ve told me how you were feeling but I do forgive you. My life has been pretty miserable with you, Steve Harrington.”

“Oh baby,” he whispered, “my life has been absolute shit without you.”

“How inappropriate would it be if I kissed you right now?” You asked not being able to help yourself. It had been far too long.

“Get over here.” He grabbed you by your waist and pulled flush against him. It didn’t take him long before his lips were pressed against yours. It quickly reminded you of the very first kiss that you shared. It was at the end of your first date and you both had been anticipating it all night. Steve walked you to your front door and then laid one on you.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest rapidly long after he left.

Now, your fingers went up to his neck and wove themselves in his hair. Steve kissed you as if the world was ending. Well, in the predicament that you both were currently in it could be.

“Be mine again.” He whispered against your lips.

You nodded, “Absolutely.”

song: satellite by harry styles

[sokka-simp]

Maneater | Steve Harrington

A/N: besties i was gonna post this sooner but i had to let my drunk fade away, anyways i present to you sub!steve (season four steve to be exact bc he is so fucking MMM MMMM MMMMMMMMM), also had to make the reader a lil punk rock bitch ok

Summary:   “I thought she’d be like mean and shy but not she wasn’t shy at all-she’s like-she’s like a man eater-Definitely an apex predator if I’ve ever seen one. Steve she was looking at you like she wanted to eat you”

Warnings: so much smut but theres plot!, cussing, spelling and grammar errors, kissing, spitting, hand jobs, crying, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving/giving), P in V sexy time, praising, degrading, marking, biting, sub!steve + dom!reader

Word Count: 9k (way more than i thought there would be like jfc the plot came out the cut, then the smut is like omg ok bitch period)

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(JUST LOOK AT HIM OH MY FUCKING GODS DGSDHGHSDGHSDHGHIRDSHIG MY COOCHIE)

Keep reading

[sokka-simp]

hii!! can you please do more headcanons for steve harrington dating byers!reader? i really enjoyed the last one, it’s my comfort fic 😌🫶

+ @1tessthebest: Hii! Could u do a steve x byers! Reader? She loves to read and all that nerdy stuff?

Dating Steve Harrington and Being A Byers Sibling - 2

headcanons

summary: what it’s like to date steve harrington while being a byers sibling

pairing: steve harrington x reader (byers!reader)

warnings: none :)

note: i combined these because they were pretty similar !! hope that’s okay :) also i’m really glad the last one is your comfort fic <33

Your family loves Steve !! He’s invited over for every holiday/special occasion.

Steve’s parents are usually out of town around Christmas time so he’s especially grateful to have you and your family to spend the holidays with.

He always comes in with a stack of gifts taller than he is. He makes a real effort to get really good gifts for the four of you. Joyce always scolds him for spending so much money but he can’t help it. He just really wants to show his appreciation for you.

Gift giving is definitely one of his love languages

He’s also a huge birthday person !! He makes a huge deal out of your birthday, buying basically every flower he sees and ordering you a cute little cake.

He also makes a big deal out of Will’s birthday. They actually become really close and Steve loves to buy little nerdy things that he knows Will would love.

When Steve figures out that you love to read, he practically begs you to read to him all the time. Sometimes, Joyce will come into your room to check on you and finds the two of you, curled up in your bed fast asleep with a book laid carelessly aside.

He always buys you new books, claiming that “Robin said this one was a classic and I know you haven’t read it yet so it’s really not a big deal it was like $5”

He’s not a big fan of reading but he’ll totally watch the movie that goes with the book you’re reading just so he can talk about it with you.

He likes to help you study !! He’s also not a big homework person but he knows that you really take those things seriously so he doesn’t mind helping you at all.

Joyce is absolutely the type of mom to tell him all your embarrassing childhood stories !! Steve can’t get enough of it. He thinks the way you get flustered and embarrassed is adorable.

(He also just really loves hearing stories about you)

Sometimes Jonathan even joins in, sharing the most mortifying stories of your life.

Steve is so helpful !! He’ll always volunteer to babysit Will, do dishes, clean up, etc. when he’s hanging out at your house.

He lets Will ramble on about all the nerdy things he’s into !! Steve actually really loves to hear Will talk about the things he’s passionate about and he actually gets pretty into it, as well.

Steve brings Joyce flowers all the time !! He’s very charming and he’s actually really good with parents. She adores him so much.

Will absolutely includes Steve in any kind of family portrait he’s drawing.

[sokka-simp]

Hair tie (Pt. 1)

summary: Dustin tries to keep his new babysitter from meeting Steve Harrington…knowing his older friend is currently girl-crazy. His attempts of keeping the two from meeting each other, fails.

pairing: steve harrington x female reader

warnings: speeding, cursing, and mentions of drinking and drugs.

a/n: been wanting to write this for awhile! (not proof read yet)

word count: 2.3k

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring at the clock—watching the second hand click loudly, reminding you of how late you already were.

Your bra then began to uncomfortably dig into your skin. The layers of your school uniform prevented you from picking at it.

C'mon…we should’ve been let out already.

You stopped paying attention once the meeting went overtime, twenty minutes ago.

The drive to the mall from here should be 15 minutes. It would take me 3 minutes to run out of here and find my car in the lot. And…..I was supposed to be parked outside the entrance…..10 minutes ago for Dustin. Your mind scattered, trying to calculate.

If Mrs. Henderson finds out I left her son waiting outside she’s going to fucking kill me. Fuck. Fuck. Fu-

“…And that wraps up the student council meeting for today, thank you for all being here and see you again next week. Have a great weekend everyone!”

That last sentence pulled you right back into reality.

Throwing your bag onto the desk, you blindly threw your arm in—hastily searching for the familiar feeling of your car keys.

“Whoa Vice-Prez, you got a date after this? What’s with the rush?” the grade 12 rep teased you.

“No, I gotta go pick someone up.”

Suddenly the feeling of cool metal hit the tips of your fingers. Aha!

“Bye everyone!” you shouted, almost tripping on your way out of the classroom.

Finally spotting your car in the student lot, you made a run for it.

You prayed no one witnessed the hectic scene of you basically throwing yourself into your car and swerving out of the parking lot.

“I’ll just pray for forgiveness later.” you spoke out loud, before slamming on the gas, rashly driving out into the streets.

-

Panic began to settle your chest after you saw no one standing outside, as you drove closer to the entrance of the mall.

Everyday Dustin had always stood outside waiting for you at 4:00pm sharp. Today though, he was nowhere to be seen. Your fears of him finally getting kidnapped started to look plausible.

“(Y/N) even if I’m not out by 4, do not—I repeat, do not step outside your car to go looking for me until an hour passes or something!” The memory of his stressed warning replayed through your head.

But..he’s never been late to meet me, and it’s already very much past 4pm.

“Fuck it.” Your babysitter instincts kicked in, urging you to go look for him inside Starcourt Mall.

You would usually thinking twice before leaving your car unattended in such a populated place, but your worries of Dustin’s whereabouts strongly washed over the rational side of your brain.

-

“You know I just love your company and all Henderson...” Steve began sarcastically.

“But doesn’t your mom usually pick you up by now?”

“Yeah…it's like 4:30, did your mom forget about you today?” Steve’s new coworker Robin chimed in.

Before realization even hit the younger boy, you had already continued your search for Dustin in the new ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy—recalling the few times Dustin would have ice cream ready for you when you picked him up from the mall.

Dustin saw Steve’s eyes widen in interest at whoever just entered the store.

“Dustin is that you?” Your silvery voice called out to him.

“Uh did you forget to mention that you have a teen mom…that goes to that rich school up north?” Robin observed the private school uniform laid on your body.

No…..Don't tell me..

He whipped his head and went running towards you.

“Hey, why weren’t you out front?”

“No! No! No!” he grabbed your arms and spun you around, so Steve couldn’t get another glance at you.

“Hey. Ouch. Hey! Let go! What are you doing? Dustin!” you finally released yourself from his clammy hands, turning back around.

Steve watched your banter with Dustin from his place behind the counter. He swallowed hard, you looked…so familiar. Steve began to search his brain for memories of you, but it was futile. He’s met so many girls that his brain began to scramble his interactions with every girl he’s met in this town.

Has he ever bumped into you before?

“I need to pee! I need to pee so bad (Y/N)! Let’s go home! I need to pee!” Dustin had shouted the first excuse he thought up.

(Y/N)? I don't think I even know that name…do I?

“What? Let’s get you to one of the bathrooms in the mall then.” you shouted back, confused at his sudden outburst.

“No!”

“No? You said you needed the bathroom!”

“Th-The public bathrooms here are dirty. They’re just nasty. Full of filth!” technically he wasn’t lying.

“Okay? Let’s get you home to your bathroom then..”

“Yes! Exactly! Yes! My bathroom!” He cheered.

He began to drag you out, pulling you by the hem of your polo.

While being forcefully dragged out the store, you had made note of the employees that watched you.

You’ve met that male employee before. You blinked, recognizing his face. You never expected to see him again.

“I’m sorry” you mouthed to him as he stood by the register. You and Dustin had caused a scene to break out in the store.

With that, Dustin had completely pulled you out from his view.

“Who was that?” Robin questioned her coworker.

“I wish I knew...” he continued to stare at the empty spot you previously occupied.

-

After his brief interaction with you, Steve couldn’t get the image of your face out of his head. It was etched deep into his memory. He told himself that if he were blessed with artistic abilities he would’ve sketched your face onto any canvas he could get his hands on—hoping to relieve the strange hold you had on him.

He’s tried asking Dustin about you, but that “stubborn bastard” didn’t seem to want to reveal any facts about you. At first he even refused to admit you existed.

“Are we friends or not Henderson?”

“We are!”

“Okay? Then why can't you tell me about that girl.”

“What girl? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The girl that picked you up the other day. What was her name…? (Y/N). Yeah it was (Y/N).”

“That was just my mom.” he tried playing dumb, stuffing ice cream into his mouth.

“Do you think I have no brain under all this hair? I know what your mom looks like!” He pointed an accusing finger at the middle schooler

“It was my mom! Maybe you’re just going crazy, imagining my mom to look all young and pretty. You’re such a feen!”

“I am not crazy! Right Robin?” Steve urged his co-worker to back him up.

“I’ll have to agree with dingus here, she was definitely not your mom. Too young.” Robin shrugged.

“She’s just some girl I know, okay? Happy?”

“And when did you know of older girls?”

“I know lots of older girls.” Dustin started getting defensive

“Can we just drop this, I need to tell you about my new theory!”

“Yeah fine, lay it on me Henderson” there was no point trying to juice information out of the stubborn kid.

-

At this point he gave up on figuring out who you were.

It’s been a week and he even tried to run out after Dustin, in order to get another peek at you but the kid always urges you to speed off, every. single. time.

Steve sat slouched in his empty living room, barely paying attention to the movie playing in front of him.

He kept picking at a dusty pink hair tie on his wrist, pulling it and letting it snap back against his irritated skin.

Suddenly, he jolted in his seat in realization, scrambling to sit up straight.

Steve laughed at the hair tie on his wrist, hysterically. If anyone were to peer through the window, it would’ve looked like he had a few screws loose.

You gave him this! That’s how it randomly appeared on his wrist, that one morning!

The memories flooded back to him.

-

“Whoa, hey there buddy are you okay?” You bent down to examine the guy slumped into a bush.

You had just found him right outside a house party your friends dragged you to.

“Did you get drugged?” You peeled his eyes open, noticing his pupils were dilated like saucers.

“How many times have I told you, dad.” He dragged out his sentence

“…I don’t do drugs, It’s only marijuana” he booped your nose.

“Okay someone definitely spiked whatever you were drinking. Do you have a ride home?” You asked, genuinely concerned—you were naturally a babysitter after all.

“Take me home!” He randomly demanded, dragging you down in a lazy hug.

“Hey, stop that. Let’s get you up, yeah?”

Using all your strength, you pulled him up to his feet. He stumbled a bit, holding onto your body for support— you allowed him to grab you.

“Come on..I need to get you to…my car.” You groaned, dragging him over to the passenger door.

He laid all his weight onto your back, his head resting on your shoulder while you pulled the car door open.

“Did you fall asleep on me?” you laughed shifting his weight to the seat, kneeling down next to him afterwards.

His eyes fluttered open for one second, his expression was cloudy but he attempted to smile back at you.

You reached out a careful hand to wipe away the sweat dripping on his forehead.

“Nice smile you got there, what’s your name?”

“Harrington. Steve.” he sent you a sloppy wink.

“Well, Mr. Steve, I’m (Y/N) and I kinda need to get this seatbelt on you.” you pulled the seatbelt strap across his body, securing it in place—ignoring his breath fanning your face.

“You. You smell really good. Like a cookie” he leaned in even closer, sniffing your neck.

“Thanks..” you slowly moved back, slightly flustered at his actions.

Making sure not to be rash, you closed his door quietly.

Get it together (Y/N). Ignore him. He’s just drugged out his mind.

You slapped your own cheeks before climbing into your own seat.

“So...you want to tell me where you live?” asking, after starting up the car.

“10 blocks straight down. Fowler Ave. House with the biggg red door and the ugly white flowers out front.” He laughed to himself.

The drive was short and quiet. He had his body sprawled all over his seat, you glanced over a few times worried because he was so stiff. You prayed that he wouldn’t flatline inside your car.

Before pulling into his driveway, you made sure to turn off your headlights—in case his parents were home.

“It's okay. Parents are away,” he whispered, reaching out to poke your arm.

“Oh, okay.”

You left him inside the car for a moment, walking up to his front door.

Please let me be right.

Lifting the doormat, you saw an extra house key underneath, glistening under the moonlight.

“Yes!” you proudly picked up the key.

Unlocking his front door, you peered into the empty home looking for a light switch.

After playing around with a few switches, you found the one that lit up his living room.

Now to get him inside.

After a bit of struggling, you managed to get him to lay on his couch.

You sat on his floor, out of breath as he giggled at you.

“You find this funny?” you laughed back at him

“No, I find this pretty. you. pretty” he reached out to boop your nose again.

“Not exactly what I meant, but thanks” you smiled at his attempt at a compliment.

You scooted over to his feet to remove his shoes, and moved back up to pull his jacket off his body.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Steve but I should really get back.” You softly whispered at his limp body.

Before you could gather yourself to stand, he weakly reached out to grab you.

“Please..”

“Stay? I wanna talk more. In the morning please.” he begged, eyes closed shut from drowsiness.

As much as you wanted to accompany him, you had already promised your friends that you’d be their designated driver.

“Trust me, I’d rather babysit you all night but I promised my babysitting duties to my friends tonight.” you apologized to him, moving the hair that covered his eyes.

A few seconds of silence passed. You thought he fell asleep until he spoke up again.

“How do I know then?”

“Know..what?”

“That you’re real.” he mumbled.

“Will my words of reassurance be enough?” you watched his eyes slowly open.

“No. You’re like. You’re so unreal. You can't be real…too freaking pretty.” he fought the urge to close his eyes, so he could look at you.

Your heartbeat began to pick up its pace.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you with something then. You know. To prove to you that I’m real and all.” you said, offering him a solution.

“a kiss?” a dopey smile quickly found its way to his flushed face.

“No. You’re not even sober. And I don’t even know if you have a girlfriend or something.” you deadpanned.

“Here.” you pulled off a pink hair tie off your wrist, transferring it onto his.

“What if you need it?” his face drew into concern. He felt himself getting slowly sober again.

“I won’t. I brought it just in case I needed to tie my friend’s hair back. Guess I’ll just have to hold her hair while she yacks.” you assured him.

“I’ll give this back to you next time.” he declared, referring to the hair tie.

“Yeah?” you never really went out, you doubted that you would run into him again.

He hummed, agreeingly.

After a few seconds, you heard soft snores coming from him.

“See you next time then, Steve..” you got up, leaving his house.

-

Steve was giddy, recalling his memories with you. Although he had to admit it was slightly embarrassing that you met him while he was in that state.

Now he was left with figuring how he can see you again.

[sokka-simp]

Eeeeee☺️ number 10 for Steve Harrington ♥️

10. “i’ll be damned if i don’t make you smile at least once today.” thank you for requesting! steve harrington x golden retriever!reader

you were having a bad day. it wouldn't have been a big deal if a few things had gone wrong.

if it was just not having warm water, or not getting to school on time, or even just failing chemistry it would've been fine. it would've been a redeemable day, but you weren't having such luck.

you were on your way to family video after your last class, a weak spring in your step and then the rain started.

"really?" you whine as you try to beat the rain to steve's job but the day was against you so why would it work in your favour now.

by the time you push open the door you're soaked through and you can't tell if the water on your face is from the rain or tears.

"pretty girl." steve coos as he hears the door shut, a pout on his face as he examines your soaked and shaking form.

"hi steve." there's no kiss to his cheek or smile flashed his way. not even a cheeky remark about his uniform and he's worried.

"bad day?" he asks as he takes your hand and leads you to the back room.

"worst day." that admission shocks him completely. even on bad days you look at it half full so steve is on edge by this new pessimism.

he hands you a towel that they somehow keep in keith's office. "i have my bag from last night in my car. let me get you something warm."

you nod and steve leaves, your thoughts swimming of the day you've had and as you dry your face you're sure that these are tears as strip down.

"oh, my girl." steve is quick to pull you to him, not at all caring that you're a little damp.

he helps you dress into his sleep shirt from last night and his sweats before taking a seat and pulling you in his lap.

"wanna talk about it?" he asks gently but you shake your head.

"you're gonna get customers soon, it's friday." he scoffs and tilts your chin up.

"fuck them, they can wait. i put up the closed sign." more tears tumble down your cheeks and steve wants nothing more than to make them go away.

he waits in the silence of the room, gently wiping away the tears as they race over the apples of your cheeks.

when you start you can't stop, telling all about the retched day and how nothing's gone right at all.

"i'm sorry, precious." he tries the sickly petname in an effort to coax a smile to your face, your eyes just barely light up.

"can you spend the night again?" you mumble and he nods so fast you swear he's actually shaken his brains.

"will it put a smile on that pretty face?" he flirts. steve misses it, misses the way your eyes crinkle when you do.

"i’ll be damned if i don’t make you smile at least once today. i'm not letting today take that pretty smile, want it back." he whines the last words and nuzzles his face into your wet hair.

your heart flutters at the attention and the way his fingers try crawling into your sides. the giggle is automatic when one of his hands press behind your knee.

"there she is." he sings and you laugh some more at his comically wide smile.

"back to work now steve, i'll keep you company."

"wouldn't have let you leave if you tried."

maybe today could get better.

[sokka-simp]

bro thigh riding steve in his favorite jeans pls😫

and this ask: If you’re still taking requests could you do thigh riding with Steve? Thanks!

needy

steve harrington x reader

summary: what it says on the box, a short fic about some good ol’ thigh riding

warnings: implied fem!reader, smut, thigh riding (obv), a little teensy bit of degradation, the word panties is used once (and yes that word deserves it’s own warning)

a/n: i don’t know when thigh riding became a staple in smut but i am not mad at all lol. this took a lot of effort to finish and it’s pretty short but i hope y’all enjoy!!

smut under the cut <3

You’re in hell. As you sit squirming in a chair in Steve’s living room, you’re sure you must be getting punished for something you did in a past life or for something you’ve yet to do in this one.

You’ve been trying to get Steve to pay attention to you for what feels like forever, and he’s been resolutely ignoring you, pretending to focus on whatever show was playing on the TV in the front of the room.

“Steve,” you whine, shifting in your seat. Being with Steve has the unfortunate side effect of getting you all riled up at literally any time, and you’re certainly feeling that way now, not-so-subtly pressing your thighs together in an attempt to get any sort of relief.

You can tell that he’s aware of what you’re trying to get from him. Normally he would be all over you, like he usually is the second you express any interest in sex, but this time he seems determined to tease you, though you think torture seems like a more apt description.

“Ste-vie,” you call out in a song-sing voice. When he ignores you once again, you let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, please.”

Something in your voice must sound sufficiently desperate because he finally acknowledges you, turning to look at you with a smirk.

“C’mere,” Steve pats his leg, motioning for you to come and sit. “Take your panties off, too.”

You scramble to follow his command, quickly shedding the flimsy piece of fabric. You leave your chair and move to straddle his thigh, the little skirt you’re wearing barely covering you as your knees settle on either side of this thigh. “You want attention, pretty girl? Is that it?”

You nod, giving Steve your best approximation of puppy eyes.

“So needy, huh?” He leans back on the couch with his hands behind his head, the very picture of nonchalance. “Go ahead, then.”

You blink at him in confusion, unsure of what he means.

“You can get yourself off on my thigh, baby, since you want it so bad.”

“Steve…” Your voice is unsure, wavering slightly.

He flexes his thigh and you gasp at the movement against your core. You’re dangerously turned on, and even the slightest brush against your clit is enough to make you shiver.

You slowly start to move your hips, and Steve nods in encouragement. “There you go, sweetheart.”

The material of Steve’s jeans is surprisingly soft from frequent wear, and as you rock back and forth, you’re surprised by how good it feels. You start moving a bit faster, grinding yourself onto the thick muscle beneath you in search of the perfect friction you’ve been craving all day. A small wet patch is quickly appearing beneath you, the evidence of your arousal darkening the denim.

Steve’s oh-so-unbothered facade fades fast as he watches you, pupils blown and bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He sits up slightly, and his thigh flexes again as he shifts his position, causing you to cry out.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” Steve brings his hands to your hips, light pressure encouraging your movements.

“Uh huh.” You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging his face closer to yours. “Kiss me, please, Stevie.”

Steve can’t say no to you, not when you’re being so sweet and obedient. He closes the gap between your lips, the kiss quickly turning filthy as he licks into your mouth with finesse. The grip on your hips tightens as he starts to actively control your pace, helping you rock against him faster. Your head lulls back as the pleasure starts to build, moaning uncontrollably at the sensation.

The denim under you is now visibly soaked, and Steve can feel the wetness against his skin, seeping through his jeans. He loves seeing you like this, begging for his touch, so full of want it seems like you'll burst. “You’re so desperate, such a greedy little slut.”

A whine comes from your throat and you shake your head feebly, protesting mostly for show.

“Poor baby, ruining my favorite jeans ‘cause you’re just too needy. You need me to take care of you, sweet thing?” Steve is wearing a devilish smile, which only grows when you nod frantically, gasping out a weak yes. “That’s what I thought, pretty girl, can’t even get yourself off with my help.”

His words go directly to your core, and you find yourself teetering on the edge, looking to Steve for reassurance. “Wanna cum, gonna cum, please.”

“You can cum baby, go ahead n’ make a mess on my thigh.”

“Steve.” His name leaves your mouth in a breathy moan as your orgasm takes you, grinding frantically against him. You slump over, burying your face in Steve’s neck as you try to catch your breath.

He runs his hands soothingly over your back, murmuring reassuringly in your ear. “That’s it baby, always so good for me, you look so pretty when you cum.”

You shift yourself up, straddling his lap. Steve groans as you sit down, now situated perfectly over the bulge highly evident in his jeans. A small giggle leaves you at his reaction, and you rock your hips just a bit, enjoying the way Steve hisses and thrusts up involuntarily.

He gently pushes you off him to land on your back on the couch, standing up to face you. His cock twitches in his pants at the sight of you, looking up at him with wide eyes filled with pure adoration and unbridled lust.

“Since you did so well,” Steve pops the button on his fly, pulling down the zipper with a smirk.

“I think I should give you a reward.”

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[sokka-simp]

Bros got me indescribably horny

steve knows it’s embarrassing, of course he does, he wants it to be. the cold, hard, floor of the locker room digs into the bone of his knees, the skin raw and red. there’s an undeniable pressure pressing against the front of his pants, a pulsing heat in which he can’t stand to ignore for much longer. there’s a tug, and his head is pulled up to face you. you’re beautiful, standing above him, powerful. you’d pulled him back in here after his practice, angry about something, and he had no choice but to take what you give him. and he wants you so bad, he needs it, but you’re being so mean. you’re not giving him what he wants, and if only he could.. could just—

the sound of the slap registers before the pain, his eyes blur at the edges and he feels positively dazed. the lockers are foggy in his vision and he remembers where he is, the fear of one of his teammates finding him, hazy and submissive, sends a jolt through his body. the room spins as his hips buck on their own accord and he can feel his cock leaking at the tip, surely soaking through his pants. there’s a pinch in your brow and you’re frowning down at him, manicured nails digging into his scalp.

“who told you to move?” he’s so gone, he can only shake his head in response, eyes pleading with you to just let him cum. you don’t seem pleased with his pathetic answer. the wind is knocked out of him and he hunches forward with a choked out groan as your heeled shoe presses hard down on his crotch. you twist your foot back and forth and it’s evil. the scratch of his gym shorts, the pressure of your foot that’s bordering on too much, it’s mean. it’s mean and he loves it, he’s shaking his head against your thigh, hands fisting the fabric on his own as his chest heaves with futile effort. he’s cumming before he can even realize it’s happening.

it’s pitiful, you think, to watch steve crumble in front of you. he doesn’t know it, but you wanted him to break, wanted to watch his pretty brown eyes when he realizes he’d disobeyed you. he’s gasping, hands shaking. you can feel his heavy breath on the bare skin of your leg. he’s shooting up to look at you before you get the chance to do it yourself. his eyes are half lidded, shining with tears of exertion, and he looks defeated. he looks positively ruined, so pretty with his face all red and covered in spit, voice hoarse when he speaks.

“im sorry. im.. sorry, baby. i..i didn’t..” you shush him before he gets too far, giving him a comforting smile. you lean down, capturing his wet lips in nasty kiss. his eyes sparkle when you pull away, and he looks at you like you have all the answers to his problems. you coo.

“look at you.” his face is flushing impossibly more red, hands twitching where they lay. “it’s alright, stevie. not your fault you couldn’t control yourself, isn’t that right?” you nod when he does, patting your hand roughly against his cheek. he swallows loudly when you grin at him. “yeah… now why don’t we give you another one? since you’re so desperate for me.”

[sokka-simp]

On my mind - Steve Harrington x Reader

Been reading fanfiction, wanted to write something :) not what i normally do on this account but it's fun and I've missed it. anyway im a basic bitch who loves Steve Harrington so I guess that's what's coming first??

Set after the events of Season 2, after the reader saves Steve from a demo-dog. The reader is Dustin's sibling and chats with Steve whilst they wait for him to get ready.

Warnings: brief canon-typical violence, nightmares, literally just pure fluff

Henderson! reader, gnc! reader

2222 words

Had a lot of fun writing this, so let me know if you want anything else from this show :)

You watched as your little brother Dustin frustratedly styled his hair, rerunning the comb through and then inevitably changing his mind moments later.

"Stop watching me, Y/N, this is very delicate work," he exclaimed, closing the bathroom door behind him.

You receded into the living room, trying not to laugh at the antics of your brother. His crush on Max was cringy to watch, but it was classic middle school. Just as you had coaxed Mews 2 to sit with you, you hear a car outside, and shortly after the door goes.

"That'll be Steve, I'll delay him for you," you half-shout to Dustin, as you go to the door. He makes a disgruntled shout of gratitude in response.

"Hey," you say, opening the door.

Steve looked the same as ever, as if the recent events of demodogs and alternate dimensions never happened. He wore a simple red jumper that comfortably complemented his brown hair, that was - as always - impossibly perfect.

"Hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

"He's just getting ready, the suit looks good, but he's just, uh, perfecting the look. Do you want to come in and wait?"

He nodded, stepping inside, the wind from outside danced round him, his hair joining in sync, he was effortlessly handsome this way. Mews 2, seemingly instantly, appeared, purring and rubbing against Steve's ankles.

"Traitor," you commented, smiling slightly, "I spent ages getting her to like me, of course she loves you straight away."

"Oh, is that how it is?" Steve asked, leaning down, lifting the cat, who, much to your surprise, did not protest, "You would have thought that me saving your life and everything would have put us on the same team."

"You saved my life? Come on, Harrington, you know that's not how it happened. If it weren't for me, you would have been demo-dog food."

"Yeah, but that's only because I was only in that position to protect you anyway."

"Whatever, Harrington, I saved your life," you said half-jokingly, slowly approaching him.

It was silent for a while as you reached up and played with the cat, you couldn't believe how much nicer she was being to him. Up this close, you could smell a mixture of his hair product mixed with a seemingly natural scent of pine trees.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve was also watching you, the way your currently messy hair framed your face, and the slight vacancy of your eyes as you seemingly absent-mindedly petted the cat.

"So, how have you been doing, y'know, after everything?" Steve asked eventually.

You slowly looked up at him, calculating how serious an answer he wanted. His eyes looked into yours earnestly, almost intimidatingly so. Noticing you pause, he sat down on the sofa, just waiting for your response.

"I, I mean I'm alright, we all made it out alive - despite your multitudes of protest," you said, smirking at him, "but even though I know it's over, I keep wondering what if it isn't, y'know?"

He smiled sympathetically, it struck you again how pretty he was. "Hey," he said, you wondered vaguely how long it had just been silent, "El closed the gate, you know that, everything's okay now," his voice impossibly soft.

"I know," you nodded, "but sometimes, at night, I just see -"

"Alright, how do I look?" Dustin said, appearing from the bathroom. He paused slightly, noticing the intensity of the eye-contact between the two of you.

You smiled, "You look amazing Dusty, you know Mom promised me I'd get a picture."

Steve watched as you smiled and said this, noticing the easy switch to cheerful and supportive, all for the sake of Dustin. He tore his eyes off of you and turned to look at Dustin. His hair was teased into a curly copy of Steve's own.

"You look great, kid," he said, standing up with a grin.

He stood behind you, pulling faces to force Dustin to smile for a photo, before you insisted him being in one. After all, he was Dustin's chauffeur, and self-proclaimed best friend.

"Alright, have fun okay, and keep an eye on Will, yeah?" you said, dusting off Dustin's shoulder.

He nodded excitedly, already half out of the door, "See you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Steve followed, before turning back to you, "You sure you're gonna be okay?"

You just nodded, but something on your face must have been giving you away, because Steve tilted his head slightly, and those soft eyes of worry made a return.

"Yeah, Harrington, I'm all good, I'll see you around, alright?"

He looked like he was about to say something else. Right on cue, your brother called for Steve, insisting they were going to be late.

Steve muttered something about Dustin being a little shit, before half jogging down to his car.

You waved them off, before closing the door and sinking back into the sofa where he had sat moments before.

*****

In the car, Dustin asked, "Hey, what was all that with them?"

Not looking up from the road, Steve said, "what was all what?"

"With Y/N, you kept staring at them whenever you thought they weren't looking. I'm not blind, Steve."

"It was nothing, really, I just care about them that's all"

"So do I, so don't lie to me Steve, come on. I thought we talked about this type of stuff, now, since I love Max and all."

Steve could have sworn he sounded slightly genuinely put-out. He smiled slightly, "I just meant that ever since in the tunnels, when they saved me. They got hurt for me, and I feel kinda guilty about it, and then I couldn't get them out of my head. And they are beautiful, which doesn't make it any easier to forget."

"Hey, that's a blood relative of mine you're talking about there," he exclaimed.

"You did ask, and beautiful is hardly graphic, come on."

"You should tell them", Dustin said, "they'd prefer you were just straight with them. Plus, I hate having to watch you staring at each other, it's gross and distracting."

Each other? Steve thought, were they doing the same, and he hadn't even noticed?

"Fine, fine, maybe I will. But enough about that, here we are" Steve announced as he pulled into the school.

"So remember, once you get in there..."

"I don't care," finished Dustin.

Steve nodded, hyping him up, "That's right, you don't care."

Still unconvinced, Dustin checked his reflection, which Steve did not allow, as he closed the mirror he said, "hey, you look great."

"uh-huh," mumbled, Dustin doubtedly.

"You look great, you look great, okay?" Steve questioned insistently.

"Yeah".

"You're gonna go in there, look like a million bucks"

"YEAH"

"And you're gonna slam dunk"

"Like a lion," agreed Dustin, before making a weird noise with his teeth.

"Uh, yeah, don't do that."

Dustin nodded, defeated, and got out of the car.

"Go get 'em tiger!"

Steve smiled slightly, as he watched Dustin go, shaking his head, wondering how he became friends with some random kid. All because of Nancy - speaking of whom. He saw her through the window, talking to Jonathon. Steve leant back in his chair, and decided he was glad she was happy with someone else, as he pulled out of the car park, turning back towards the Henderson household.

****

You were still on the sofa, now curled into a ball as you read a book.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Y/N, can I come in?"

You nodded, letting him in, he was holding a VHS and a plastic bag of snacks.

"I thought, if you can't sleep, I might as well get you to relax... if that's okay."

"Steve," you said, starting to say that he didn't need or have to.

But he shook his head, gently pushing you back into the sofa, he was warm, and even after he had removed his hands, you could feel a sparky outline of them.

"No Y/N, I owe you, you did, after all, save my life."

That got you to smile slightly.

Steve settled next to you on the sofa, a respectable distance, but close enough to reach out to him. You could almost hear his breathing, and you could smell him again. It was comforting, he was really here, unlike all the things you relived in the dark, and he was grounding. As the film ended, you realised how tired you actually were, and tried, but failed, to hide your yawning.

"So, when was the last time you slept, like properly?" asked Steve.

You just shrugged.

"Come on," he said, having switched off the TV, he pulled you gently out of the sofa and you both meandered to your room.

"What if you stayed?" you mumbled, you were almost embarrassed to ask him, but his presence was keeping you calm in a way you hadn't felt before, which wasn't something you were ready to lose.

"If you're sure, that's okay," was all he said.

You vaguely wondered if that was something he actually wanted, but you were too tired from your shift at work earlier, and then getting Dustin ready, that you didn't really want to start questioning that.

Steve went to the bathroom whilst you got ready for bed. As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, pausing in slight disbelief that you were letting him stay around. The truth was, he loved your company too, like he had told Dustin, you hadn't left his mind since that night when you had fought that demo-dog away from him.

When he returned to your room, you were already curled up under the covers. So, he laid down opposite you, on top of the covers, but under a blanket. You were staring in front of you, your eyes vacant, as if looking at something that wasn't really there. But when he settled next to you, you smiled slightly in recognition.

"Hey," you said softly.

"Hey," Steve responded.

You really did look beautiful wrapped up like that. So, he reached out, brushing your hair from your face, when you didn't protest, he carried on. Slowly, he played with your hair, letting it run through his fingers. The entire time, he made sure to be gentle with you, just trying to distract you, as slowly, but surely you fell asleep.

For a while, Steve carried on, just looking at you, but slowly he fell asleep too.

****

Suddenly, you were back in the tunnels, you had reached the hub, and there was one stalking the group. It was staring you down. You were all alone and as it charged, you could do nothing. Your feet were stuck to the ground, it opened up its mouth about to -

You lashed out, swinging your arms in a last minute attempt to protect yourself, before realising it wasn't real.

Steve caught your badly formed fist in his hand.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said softly. He didn't wait for a response, just pulling you into him until your head was buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand resting on the back of your head, starting to play with your hair. The other hand slowly drew circles in your back.

You leant into him, letting him know he was okay to keep going, and eventually returning the hug, with one arm settling over his shoulders.

"You're okay, I promise, I'm right here," he said softly.

You nodded into his chest.

****

In the morning, you were both still entangled. He was watching you with an absent-minded smile on his face.

"Morning, beautiful," he said.

You hit him playfully, "oh shut up," you said, barely daring to believe this was real.

He was still looking at you. "I meant it."

"What?"

"I meant it. I think you're beautiful, I haven't stopped thinking about you since everything that happened. You're brave and kind, and maybe too good to your shithead brother."

You just stared in shock, you couldn't really believe it. Until you had seen him getting his ass handed to him by Billy Hargrove, had you really started to like him. But he had always been gorgeous himself.

You realised he was waiting for you to say something.

"Me too," you admitted, finally looking back up at him.

His hair was falling into his face, so you reached up to fix it for him. It was only then you realised just how close together the two of you really were. His eyes were on you, following your every move. As you fixed his hair, he leant into your hand. Neither of you could break eye contact, until his betrayed him, slipping down to look at your lips before flickering back up.

You smiled slightly, only drawing his attention back to them, as you leaned in, and gently pulled him most of the way.

It started off slowly, his lips unbelievably soft. And then he was pulling you close, one hand coming up to hold your head, the other sliding up your back. You wrapped one leg around him, each of you keeping the other close.

When your faces pulled apart, the rest of you stayed wrapped together. Safe.

You rested your forehead against his.

"Okay, Harrington, we're even now."

He laughed gently, before kissing you again.

[sokka-simp]

ok i know i just requested something yesterday, BUT I HAVE A REALLY GOOD SONG FIC IDEA - steve harrington x reader and the song is you belong with me by taylor swift where steve’s dating a cheerleader and the reader and him have been best friend’s since forever but the reader has had a huge crush on him, I THINK IT’D BE SO CUTE

s. harrington || you belong with me

A/N: my personal thanks to u and our lord and savior, source of all my inspiration: ms. taylor alison swift

The day you met Steve Harrington was one you couldn’t quite remember, granted the two of you had been in kindergarten then. Your mother loves to recount the story on your birthdays, how he had stolen your favorite crayons and you retaliated by flicking your mashed potatoes at him. Eventually, you both made up and bonded over finger painting, and you both had been inseparable since.

Even through the awkward years of pre pubescent middle school kids to the more intimidating environment that was high school, you both had managed to remain as good friends, best friends, that was, when Steve wasn't out with his other more well known friends.

Of course you saw it coming, even from miles away, as you and Steve first set foot on the High School campus, you knew deep down that he would be swept away by the popular crowd, because even you had to admit that he was charming, the fact that he had perfect hair only ever boosted his reputation.

Passing notes and always spending you lunches together turned into short 'hi's' and 'hello's' as you passed each other by in the hallways, every time Steve and you had managed to snatch some alone time to talk, somehow one of his friends always managed to barge in, dragging Steve away with him.

Despite how dejected you felt whenever he was taken away from you, you let him go each time. It wasn't as if you were together anyway, you and Steve? The king of Hawkins High with some band geek nobody? Not a chance.

After years of being friends with the Steve Harrington, absolute heartthrob of the school, could anyone truly blame you if you told them you'd had a crush on him since the fourth grade?

For years you had buried whatever feelings you had for him deep inside you, locked up in a dungeon of your own creation along with all your dreams of becoming a ballerina or astronaut.

You convinced yourself it was never going to happen, especially now that he was currently dating the captain of the cheerleading team who also happened to be one of your biggest bullies, none other than the queen of hell herself: Heather McNamara.

You told yourself it was natural, predictable even. She was pretty, she was popular, she was actually a really talented cheer leader, and she made him smile--despite how she tormented you, you tried to force down the bile that crawled up your throat whenever you saw his arm slung around her shoulder, the little kisses she would throw him while she did her cheer routines as he played basketball, while you were the one stuck on the bleachers.

Curse the stupid made up hierarchy that was high school.

Although you and Steve seemed to be drifting apart while at school, that wasn't the case at all outside of class. Sometimes, every after school when you didn't have band practice and Steve didn't have whatever sports practice he was into at the time, you would both spend afternoon until night driving around Hawkins, with music turned up and the windows down as you two yelled out the lyrics to your favorite songs.

Those were the moments you liked most, where you could be you, and he could be the Steve you always knew him to be.

Then he'd drive you both home, which was easy, considering the fact that your houses were right next to each other, with his bedroom window only a few feet away from yours. When you were little, to avoid waking any of your parents up, you and Steve would communicate with big pads of paper, chatting through writing way past your bedtime.

You smiled at that memory.

"And then Heather said 'I'll bring my own cassette tapes next time,' like, um, what? Y'know, if she didn't like my music she could've just said that and I would've turned it off, I don't know why she had to be so passive aggressive about it, and her tone was just--"

You furrow your brows and shake your head. "Dude, if that annoyed you so much why don't you just talk to her about it?"

Steve groans. "That's the thing! Whenever I try to talk to her about something that's bothering me that she does, she always twists my words and make it so that I'm the villain! I mean-- that's not fair!"

You huff, giving him an incredulous look. "If it's like that every time you confront her for stuff that she does to make you feel bad, why are you still with her then?"

"Because!" Steve starts, shrugging. "I don't know, I think I might really like her, she could be the one, y'know."

You let out a fake barfing noise. "Gross, keep that sentimentality away from me please."

"You know, I think you'd have a better understanding if you were in the same situation." He says before turning the steering wheel down towards the park you were supposed to be going to.

You scoff, turning in your seat to face him. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," Steve inhales before blowing out of his mouth. "You've been single for like, the longest time, (y/n), you sure there aren't any cute band geeks you're hanging out with?"

"As if I'd ever want to be all mushy gushy with someone like that." You roll your eyes for what seemed to be the tenth time during this car ride. "Like 'oh babe how are you, I missed you so much', 'oh baby I missed you too'." You tease, mimicking Steve's deep voice and Amber's high pitched one as you say those words, right before putting your fingers together and making your hands kiss while imitating kissing noises.

"Hey! Stop that." Steve whines, slapping your hands down as you giggle.

"Now I get why no one wants to date you." He murmurs, but you hear his words perfectly, causing you to punch him square on the bicep.

"Ow! Hey, I was just joking, alright? You're great, (y/n), I'm sure you'll find someone soon."

"Last time I checked, Harrington, I don't need to date anyone simply in order to boost my popularity, okay?" You retaliate, crossing your arms.

"Ouch, (y/n), you make me seem so vain." Steve places a hand over his heart to feign hurt.

You laugh sarcastically before looking at him while batting your lashes. "Glad you noticed."

He rolls his eyes at you, nudging your forehead with his fingers and you laugh.

You'll find someone someday, his words echo in your mind.

But as you watch him laugh and smile with joy as he turns up the volume to his favorite song with the afternoon sun pouring through the car window to illuminate his face in gold, you didn't need to look any further.

Because you had already found someone.

...

It was a typical Tuesday night, your current favorite song blasting through your speakers as you read a book that you needed to understand for class. Unable to even remotely understand the author's words in their 19th century grammar, you let your mind wander as you stared at the page.

Prom was coming soon, and there was no doubt in your mind that Steve would be crowned prom king, along with his snooty little girlfriend.

You sigh, shutting the book. You spot Steve in his room from the view you had into his bedroom window, he was pacing around the room, the phone wire getting caught in his chair before he yanked it out.

You didn't know exactly what was going on, but you saw his animated hand gestures, the frustration on his face as he ran his hand through his hair.

With your eyebrows knitted together, you get off your bed, making your way towards your window. Steve finally slams the phone down, his face tinged with red from all the yelling he had done. He catches your eye, and you give him a concerned look through your window. He quirks his eyebrows, shrugs, and shakes his head.

Swiftly, you grab the big sketchbook that you usually reserved for your art classes, writing a message to him in big black letters with your sharpie.

He looks at you with confusion as you scribble down your message, his eyebrows turning upwards as he realizes what you were doing.

'Are you okay?' It read.

He grabs his own pad of paper, the yellow pad he was supposed to use to take notes in, scrawling his own message in black marker.

'Not really.' He replied.

You shoot him a frown.

'What happened?'

He shakes his head, sighing, before turning the pad of paper towards you, revealing his message.

'We had a fight again :('

The sad face he doodled almost makes you laugh. He was still the same dorky Steve under that popular mask he wore after all.

'Sorry about that'

He comes closer towards his window, opening up the latch to slide the window pane upwards.

"You wanna go for a walk?" He calls out.

You smile, opening up your own window. "Sure."

...

You sneak your way into the kitchen and out the back door, memories of doing the same sneaking out as kids when either of you were grounded replay in your mind.

You carefully unlatch the gate to his backyard, making sure there would be no noise to alert anyone, tiptoeing your way up the back porch until you stood at his own back door, waiting.

"Hey." He greets, eyes not meeting yours.

"Hey," You smile. "Everything okay?"

He makes his way past you, shaking his head while you follow him.

"No, not really."

"What happened?"

"She," He hesitates, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "She broke up with me."

You feel bad for him, you do, but if that meant him finally being free of a toxic relationship, you couldn't help but feel relieved.

"Oh." Is all you manage to say.

"But I'm gonna get her back." He says with conviction, nodding his head as his eyes looked far away into the horizon, as if he was imagining the ways he would somehow win her back.

You furrow your eyebrows and scoff, which catches his attention and snaps him out of his daydream.

"What?" He says, bewildered and confused by your reaction.

"You're kidding, right?"

"No? I'm serious, I'm gonna win her back, just wait and see."

You roll your eyes, incredulous at his response.

"Why? You don't even like her that much!"

"How could you even know that? You don't know me!" He cries out, emphasizing his words with wild hand gestures.

"That's another thing you're wrong about, Steve, I do know you, and I know that you're making one of the biggest mistakes in your life." You say the last few words with a hint of cynical laughter in your voice.

"Where the hell is this even coming from, (y/n)? I really like this chick, what more is there to it?"

"Oh so you 'really like this chick' but you just so happen to complain about her all the time?"

Steve stammers for a moment. "Love's complicated like that, I don't know, I just know that I need to take her to prom too--"

"Oh so that's it!" You exclaim sarcastically, moving your hands into wild gestures of their own. "Steve, the king of Hawkins High, is afraid to go to prom without a date."

"Yeah, well, at least I actually have the chance to have a date on my arm, not sure I can say the same thing about you, can I?" He seethes.

You squint your eyes at him in disbelief. "You're seriously bringing that up right now?"

He shrugged. "I figured that since you were such an expert about love you'd be in a relationship oh no wait," Steve points at you. "You're not."

You let out a laugh devoid of any joy. "At least I don't go out with people who aren't good for me for the sake of keeping my social status." You reply, words dripping with poison.

"Yeah well, at least people know me. I mean, who even are you at school besides the band geek who follows Steve Harrington around like a lost little puppy?"

You lick your lips, resolve faltering. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Steve sucks in a breath, closing his eyes as he rubs them, then shakes his head. "No, no, (y/n), I--"

"You know what? Fine, I'll stop following you around like a lost puppy. As far as I know, you're on your own, Harrington." You say, anger bubbling in your veins as you stomp away from him.

You don't even notice the look of regret in his eyes as you turn your back.

...

It had been a week since you last stopped talking to Steve, avoiding him at all costs whenever you were at school, closing the curtains to your window to make your one message very clear: Don't talk to me.

Sometimes you wondered what happened to the two of you. You two used to be like two peas in a pod, he told you everything there was to know about him, his entire life story.

Steve felt nothing but guilt as you brushed past him in the hallways, barely even sparing him a glance. He remembers those days where the two of you would sneak out to go on walks, or 'nightly adventures' as you two used to call it growing up. He recounts the moments he'd spend with you, sharing secrets, hopes, and dreams under the stars. He had told you everything there was to him. Steve was stubborn, but he knew you were right; you did know him, down to the very specs of stardust in his bones. He had told you his life story, but he forgot to mention all the chapters you had always been a part of.

...

Prom was only a day away now.

As much as you brushed your friends' invitations off, you couldn't ignore the endless pestering of your mother.

"Oh, come on, (y/n), it's your high school prom! I remember how fun my little proms were, come on, sweetheart, you need some sort of grand moment in your life to commemorate your high school days! Pleaasee." She had begged and pleaded with you.

Finally, after more pestering and nagging, you relented.

So now here you were, walking your way towards the gym after your mother had dropped you off, snapping an endless supply of pictures of you on her polaroid, gushing about how stunning you looked.

Before you left the house, you had caught your reflection in one of the mirrors by the living room, and, as vain as it was, you had to admit that you looked good.

Your hair was meticulously styled courtesy of your mother, makeup brushed on to highlight your best features, that, along with the elegant dress of your favorite color you and your mother had chosen paired with the matching jewelry made you feel the best about your appearance for the longest time.

You walked into the gym, decorated with various balloons and streamers, your mouth widening into a smile as you caught one of your friends from band. You ran over to them as best as you could with the strappy heels you wore, tackling one of them in a hug.

As you laughed and drank punch with your friends, your eyes caught a glimpse of none other than Steve 'the hair' Harrington. He glances towards your direction and you two make eye contact, which you immediately break as you turn to your friends.

"So, you guys see anyone cute yet?" You say.

"Uh, duh, Steve Harrington is literally standing right there." Your friend replies, quirking an eyebrow.

"Actually, he's walking towards us now." Your other friend says as she fixes her hair.

You bite your lip, sure, you weren't mad at him anymore, but you were still a little annoyed. Ever the prideful one, you only looked down at your drink as Steve approached you.

He waved to your friends, sending them a small smile before he turned to you.

"(y/n), can we talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" You casually shift your eyesight to the side, intent on not even making eye contact with him. While he was the pretty one in the friendship, you were most definitely the petty one.

He rolls his eyes at you and sighs. "Look, I know you're probably still annoyed at me, and I'm sorry, but can we please just talk? You and me?"

You close your eyes, letting out a breath, before you look at him. "Fine."

He grins, finally, you were talking to him. He leads you away from your friends and to the dance floor.

You quirk your eyebrow at him. "Steve, where are we--"

"Come on, (y/n), dance with me." He holds out his hand towards you.

Memories of you pining for him for years envelop your heart, and you just couldn't tell him no, not with those sweet, pleading eyes of his.

You take his hand, and as if on cue, a slow song starts to play.

Before you know it, you had your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands at your waist. Your heart thumped against your chest, still, you tried your best to play it cool. After all, the two of you were completely platonic, And, much to your dismay, nothing could ever change that.

"You were right." He says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"About Heather," He says, looking into your eyes earnestly. "She and I.. we just weren't right for each other."

"Oh, um, okay." Is all you can manage to say as you felt your cheeks flush pink when you caught his gaze flickering towards your lips.

"I've spent my entire life chasing after things, people, because I guess being popular and liked by a lot of people made me feel wanted, loved." He laments, gazing at your features with affection.

You let out a soft chuckle in an attempt to ease your nerves. Throughout your entire life of knowing Steve, you had never been so close to each other like this. "Glad you finally noticed."

He laughed, softly, before he licked his lips. "Guess I was too busy trying to impress the world that I forgot about the one person who I saw as my world."

When he looks at you like that, with that affectionate, kind look in his eyes, how could you ever stop your heart from melting?

"That person's you, by the way." He smiles, clearing up his words.

You squint your eyes at him, despite the smile that graced your lips.

"That was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard, Stevie."

He laughs, shaking his head. "It was worth a shot."

"What, did you spend like 30 minutes of your time practicing that line in front of your mirror or?" You teased.

He rolls his eyes playfully at you before leaning his forehead on yours.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?"

You beam at him, eyes crinkling as you smiled. "Never."

He laughs before he kisses you on both cheeks, then on your nose, then your forehead, until he reaches your lips. You practically melt into him as his soft lips move against yours, ever so gently, and you swear you could stay in this moment forever. Despite the sea of people around you, whispering and gossiping about the band geek and the king of Hawkins, all of that faded away as you swayed to the rhythm with Steve, your Steve, who you knew inside out, who knew you down to the tiny specs of stardust in your bones.

And nothing and no one could ever take that away from either of you.

[sokka-simp]

hey babe! loveeee your work! could you possibly write a steve x reader where reader works at the local book store? honestly i trust you so much with this so run with the wind!! write it however you want just with that plot point! i just wanted book nerds (me) to represented lol. love ya 😘

Video Killed the Bookstore Clerk - Steve Harrington x Reader

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[ Steve Harrington Masterlist ]

[ Main Masterlist ]

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word count: 1.2k

summary: working in a bookstore right next to the video store had its ups and downs, but Steve Harrington was definitely a highlight to your day.

warnings: fluff, mention of smutty books, platonic relationship (for now)

a/n: this request made my writing juices floww, i feel like i focused more on the reader working at a bookstore than Steve himself but I hope I was still able to do this request justice!!

join taglist <- tags in reblog

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Working at a bookstore was one of the better decisions you had made in your teenage years.

It wasn’t perfect by any means, the pay wasn’t amazing, neither were the hours, your co-workers were either so pretentious you couldn’t talk to them about anything you enjoyed, or so boring you hated the idea of asking them, but there definitely were some upsides.

One of your favourite parts of working at the book store was meeting people who read the same books you did, getting to talk to them all about the book.

what’s their favourite character?

what’s their least favourite character?

what scene made them cry?

what scene made them rip the book in half?

did they actually rip the book in half?

is that why they’re here to buy another copy of the book?

It made for some amazing conversations for sure.

You also loved how much you could learn about people based on the books they read, you’d get the people who only came to buy books for their English class,

the people who love horror and gore who asked you how much violence was actually in the book, only to come back complaining that there wasn’t enough,

there were the people who adored the romantic books, craving that kind of love in their real world,

and then… there was a specific type of book that more people came for than they’d care to admit.

Some would call them erotica, some would call it sensual, but the most common phrase, porn books. You couldn’t blame them, those writers knew how to get you feeling all sorts of ways, but there was humour to watching people buy the books that you couldn’t ignore.

There, of course, were the people with no shame, who would walk directly to the spicy stuff, pick out the book and walk straight to you. But most of your customers would have a bit more… nuance when buying that genre.

It would always start with the classics, looking at books they already read in school, or books they would never read, then they’d dip their toes in, try looking at the general romance, the fluffier stuff where sex is only between the betrothed. And then, only for a few minutes, would they pick out the book they were actually here for, either acting disgusted with the premise or completely unaware of the contents of the book, but you knew the truth… they knew exactly what was in that book.

Another part of working at the bookstore was the rivalry with your neighbour, the video store. To this day, you still don’t know which store was here first, but whoever decided to go next door to the other was either an idiot or an evil genius, or maybe both.

It was honestly hilarious watching how serious your pretentious co-worker, Adam, would take the unspoken competition between the two stores. Whenever you spoke to someone working there- or god forbid shopped there, you’d get a painfully long lecture the next day about how “Movies are the death of books” and how they’re “rotting people's minds and only the sanctity of books will save them.”

While you enjoyed books, it was shocking to see the extent this man would go to in ‘defence’ of an art form that has been around for centuries.

“Didn’t you hear the song ‘Video killed the radio star’? It’s the same thing here. Open your eyes.” Adam said, continuing another very long rant after catching you rent ‘Back to the Future.

You roll your eyes, “You know one day those stores are probably gonna become obsolete, right? Eventually, technology is gonna move past renting tapes to watch a movie at home, I mean- cinemas have been around for decades and we’re doing fine. You need to relax, books will be okay.”

“Not if I have any say in the matter” You hear a male voice from the front door, specifically, Steve Harrington’s voice.

Steve was one of the clerks at the video store, and one of the few people on the shopping strip you could actually stand. Although neither of you particularly cared about the whole ‘books vs film’ competition, you had a lot of fun participating- mainly to make fun of each other.

“At least when people pay for our stuff, they keep it.” You joked to Steve, watching as he dramatically pushed his hand over his heart, as if he was hurt by your comment.

“My, what an attitude we have here today.” He says, walking behind the counter while ignoring Adam’s protests as he sits next to you, “It’s called marketing, if they wanna watch the movie again they have to come back. Books don't have that, do they?”

You gave a sarcastic nod, hoping it would add some humour to your comeback, “Libraries,” You say, watching as the smirk on Steve’s face dropping as he thinks about it.

“Shit.” He says, making you laugh.

The two of you then continue the tradition you’d had for months, he would rent a movie he thought you’d like, and you’d do the same with a book, then the next week you’d trade back and share your thoughts.

“So, what’d you think of ‘It’?” You ask, nodding to the book he had pulled out of his bag.

Judging by his face, you knew he had some things to say. “Look, I liked it- I really did. It has that Stephen King charm you know I love. But the part with the kids fucking? Fucked up.”

You nod, understanding what he’s talking about “Yeah, that part was pretty icky,”

“Super fucking gross,” He says, laughing a little. “What about you? Did you like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

You nod, “Yeah, it was real funny.” It was a lie, you hadn’t actually gotten the chance to see it, between school and work, you didn’t have the time.

Steve knew you too well to think you were telling the truth, so he decided to test you a little, “Who’s your favourite character?”

You chuckle, “Uh- my favourite character is… Ferries Bueller?”

“You didn’t watch it,” Steve says, shaking his head at you.

A wave of guilt overcomes you, “I know, I didn’t. I’m so sorry, I just got so caught up with work and school, and I only lied because I didn’t wanna ruin our tradition because I really like spending time with you and-“

Steve cuts you off, “Hey- woah… hey, it’s no big deal, we’ll just have to watch it tonight.”

You look up at him, “Really?” The two of you had never seen each other outside of work hours, it seemed insane to imagine him in your house.

He nods, “Sure, why not? I’ll bring the popcorn?” He says, getting up to head out of the store.

“Sure, what time?” You ask.

Steve shakes his head from side to side, trying to think of a time, “Oh, I don’t know, Seven?” He asks, smiling as you nod. “See you then.” He says, walking out the door.

You smile, going back to stocking the shelves when Steve comes back into the shop, paper and pen in hand.

“I forgot to ask for your address.”

[sokka-simp]

tickle fights with steve but then he gets turned on because you’re on top of him…

♡‧₊˚ “I.. can’t.. breathe” You gasped in between words as your boyfriend laid on top of you his fingers moving feverishly on your sides and neck.

“say Chicken.” The grin on his face was a devilish one at that. In any games the two of you played together you never backed down, but at this point in time he really had you cornered.

“I.. will- AHH.. never say… chicken.” The loud giggles left your mouth as Steve continually attacked at your abdomen not giving up. “Well then I hope you didn’t finish that slushy you had.”

The second the words left his mouth everything clicked and your eyes widen not thinking about the Blue raspberry slush you devoured just minutes before the tickle fight had even started. And if you were being honest all the laughing was making you have to pee.

“CHICKEN!”

Steve’s arms raised in victory but before he had the chance to celebrate you were pushing him off you and making a beeline for the connected bathroom to your room.

“WOHOOO!” You heard from your room. “Damn it feels good to be a winner!”

When you arrived back from the bathroom your brunette headed boyfriend was laid on his back throwing a ball to the ceiling and catching it. Oh he was definitely getting some pay back.

“You’re so mean to me.” You mumbled as you mad your way onto the bed straddling his waist and laying your head on his chest.

“I am not mean… I am competitive.”

“Same thing Meanie.”

Silence filled the room for a while until you moved your body up just a smidge to where you head was rested on his shoulder and your lips were mere inches from his neck. Slowly your tongue darted out licking a single strip from the base of his neck to the side of his chin.

“Baby..” His breath hitched slightly when you’re head moved closer and began to nibble very softly on his ear lobe. “Wha- wha- what are you doing.”

You dragged your tongue along the edge of his ear before whispering, “I’m not doing anything.”

“Your parents are gonna… be home any minute we don’t have time for this.” His voice was nearly a whimper. Ignoring him you grabbed his hands pulling them down your body to rest on your ass from their previous position on your waist.

“Fuckk..” He moaned slightly loving when you took control, it was a rare thing but god did he eat it up on the rare chance you did show that side of you.

Lifting slightly you found placement on his lips kissing passionately as one of your hands trailed down his body and to the obvious bulge that was forming. His lips left yours temporarily when he could tell you were trying to tease him. His large hand engulfed yours and placed it right where he wanted encouraging you to take control after this point.

“You like when I touch you like this don’t you baby.” You whispered as his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you began to massage it.

“You know me so well baby.” He groaned and just before he could say anything else the garage door underneath your room began to open signaling your parents had made it home.

Before Steve could react you were jumping off of him and making your way towards the door.

“Y/n! What are you doing?”

“I’m going to see if my parents need help with the groceries.” You told him with an innocent smile on your face.

“What about..” He looked down at the obvious tent in his pants.

“Guess you’ll have to figure that one out yourself babes.”

[sokka-simp]

Jskskskskf bro u got all the characters down perfectly omg 😭🫶

hello! i love your drunk gf with steve soooo much & i'm so excited with the upcoming one! so if you're not too busy, can i request something? :D

idea: steve likes taking funny like unprepared polaroids of the reader just to make fun of the her, and the same goes for her (they're friends!!) but then steve manages to take one pretty polaroid of her and then he's like "have i been in love w/her all this time..." then he decides to keep it inside his wallet and well yk... someone sees it. it's up to u who the person is hehe. THAT'S ALL ACTUALLY no pressure tho <3 just thought the idea is cute and i'd like to share it to u!! <3

Oh this is ADORABLE shut up

The summer I turned pretty

Synopsis: as above!

Warnings: not very edited and guaranteed to give you a severe toothache. (Also cursing !)

a/n: very tempted to rewrite this scenario with Max finding the polaroid instead, and then again with Robin. 1 like and I’ll do it I SWEAR

Steve Harrington is many things.

An impressive head of hair, a stupidly roguish grin, five-foot-ten (and a half, the royal pain in the ass insists) of devastating charm, and perhaps most unfortunately — your best friend.

Steve Harrington is many things, but a photographer isn’t one of them. Especially not the kind that wears a polaroid camera around his neck; he isn’t the brooding type — the very opposite of strange and mysterious.

And yet, all overconfidence and terrible good looks, he manages to epitomise the look as though he invented it. As though photography was hardwired into his king Steve, DNA, instructing you to pose with that heart-melting smile on his face.

“Harrington,” you warn, sounding a broken record at this point. “Seriously. Stop.”

Steve offers a half-shrug in response, the kind that makes you want to strangle him (or perhaps, to kiss him hard).

“What?” He furrows his brow then, trying his very best to feign nonchalance. There’s a brilliant twinkle in his eye, corners of his mouth twitching as he disguises his amusement, and he looks at ease — frustratingly so, like he hasn’t spent the better half of the summer taking bad photos of you.

You let out an defeated huff in response, folding your arms across your chest. It isn’t as though you can get him back by turning around and taking polaroids of him — frustratingly handsome Steve is crazy photogenic, on top of everything else, and all returning the favour will do is make you fall harder for him. As if your poor heart isn’t already a bulletin board of his stupid grin and stupid eyes and stupidly big hair; as if you need any more photos of him lying around — heart palpitations sure to grow downright arrhythmic.

“Dude, seriously,” you admonish, fixing him with a stern glare. “Don’t you think you have enough shitty photos of me to last a lifetime?”

“Ah,” Steve nods sagely, as though any part of him is considering stopping on your account. “Not quite.”

He secretly loves riling you up — you’re at your brightest when your mad, and alright, sue him, but a secret part of Steve finds it perplexingly attractive. The kind of attractive that feels a magnetic pull to his heartbeat; he’s the kid on the playground your mother tells you about, the one that teases you instead of conveying his affection.

So maybe Steve Harrington has a schoolboy crush he isn’t aware of. You’ll have to forgive him, he’s clueless at the best of times, and your presence even more so makes him malfunction. All warm and golden and everything good in this world, as though you were made to slot right into his side.

“Not quite?” You repeat, narrowing your eyes some.

Steve nods, again, bringing his polaroid camera up to his right eye. He’s squinting into the lens with his tongue pressed between his teeth, capturing you frowning as though your life depends on it. It’s more an endearing pout than anything formidable, and maybe, definitely Steve Harrington is biased, but he’s fairly certain the image has glacéd his heart, like a cherry.

It’s a fleeting thought, one he’s sure will return once the polaroid develops. Right now, though, he’s all cool, calm, collected charm, camera swinging back into place as he tugs the white film out.

“The worst,” you mutter, shaking your head irritatedly. “You’re the fucking worst, you know that?”

Steve grins, searching your features in a way that has your heartbeat quickening. “You love me.”

I do, you think without missing a beat, feeling like a high-school cliché as you do so. The boy-next-door — seriously? Your cheeks feel warm, and your traitorous stomach is doing somersaults; you hop off the hood of Steve’s pick-up, hating how unconvincing your response sounds.

“You wish,” you say, dusting off your sweet-looking flares.

Steve pretends to swoon, shaking the polaroid in the air. “I do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes, flipping him off before turning on your heel. “I gotta go, alright? We still on for tomorrow?”

“Movie night?” Steve confirms, nodding a response, “always. You know Henderson would kill us if we bailed.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head bemusedly. “I love that kid,” you say, in near unison to Steve adding — “I hate that kid.”

“Take it back, Harrington,” you warn, fixing him with what you hope is a stern glare. It isn’t. Perhaps it’s the polaroid talking, but Steve thinks you look like a heart attack packaged into five-foot-something trouble.

One he doesn’t mind having, all things considered. It would be a valiant way to go, and he can see the headlines, now: Extra! Extra! Read all about it — unfairly beautiful girl causes poor boy’s heart to malfunction.

“Taking it back,” Steve says solemnly, raising his arms in surrender. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You offer him a mock salute in response, jingling your keys as an added farewell before heading for your car. He waits until you’ve driven off before opening his door and doing the same — he needs to know you’re making your way home, safely, before he can even entertain the idea himself. In a perfect world, he’d be the one driving you around. But you’re his best friend, not an object; he needs to keep his irrational fear of losing you to an accident in check.

Once he’s buckled in, he takes off his camera and places it on the passenger’s seat; it acts as a reminder of the polaroid still in his free hand, and he takes a pause to glimpse it.

It’s only half developed, but Steve’s breath catches anyway. The film acts to soften your pout; it looks even more so endearing, a fact he didn’t think possible until now. Summer’s in full force in Hawkins — the heat is unforgiving, sunshine beating down harsh. It should look the same in the polaroid, but for some reason, it doesn’t; sun beams radiate your figure, create a halo around its form. You look angelic, like something out of a dream, and Steve drinks the image in until he’s sure he’s drunk off the feeling. It’s as though your opaline, almost ethereal — this photo is it, he thinks, feeling like he’s captured something romantic.

And it isn’t as though you’re doing anything out of the ordinary — you frowning, arms folded (on the hood of his pick-up, no less) is the very picture of your dynamic, something he sees far too often. He shouldn’t feel it flutter through his chest, nor settle spun gold in his veins. But it does, you do, and Steve feels overwhelmingly as though this is a secret kept.

Yours and his, like the big L word with the I and you in between. Perhaps a part of him has always known you’re something special, because he doesn’t hesitate to tuck the polaroid into a hidden slot in his wallet. The others he’s taken he’s used as ammunition; they’re littered around his room, some tacked to his cobweb-gathering locker. Though now that he thinks about it, his eyes do tend to linger on them as he passes. They bring a smile to his face when you’re not around; Steve’s hopelessly smitten, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Shit,” he curses, so very desperate now that he’s talking to himself, apparently. “There’s no way, right?”

Except that there is, of course there is — Steve Harrington is done for, was the minute you were assigned the seat beside his, freshman year. Somewhere between then and now, he’s memorised faint bergamot, lavender and tones of honey without even realising it. He’s pavlov-ed himself into doing everything in his power to make you laugh; whether that be through silly pranks or a polaroid camera you hate to love. And now, he’s the guy with a photo of you in his wallet — with a highlight reel of you playing on repeat, soft, pouty lips and a smile like sunshine.

“Shit,” he repeats, though this time, it appears he’s resigned to his fate. “You motherfucker. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

—

Steve Harrington doesn’t get nervous.

He’s the epitome of smooth, self-proclaimed creator of Skull Rock’s reputation, and he rarely, if ever, gets nervous — especially when said nerves are to do with a crush.

Perhaps that’s why Dustin eyes his figure with interest when he opens the door. You aren’t due to arrive for another few minutes, and Steve Harrington looks alarmingly overdressed — his dreamy head of hair is styled to perfection, letterman on that he swears he only wears to lend. To pretty girls, he’ll add, when in the mood to dish out pearls of wisdom — “girls go crazy for it, you hear me Henderson? Get your hands on one of these, dude, and you’re sorted. For real.”

“What’s up with you?” Dustin greets with a raised eyebrow, giving his figure a pointed once-over. “You coming from another commitment, Harrington?”

He cocks his head to one side, raising an eyebrow, “planning on going to one?”

“Dude — no, of course not,” Steve responds, uncharacteristically defensive as he pushes past Dustin’s figure. He deposits his keys and wallet atop the entrance table, muttering something terse about using the bathroom before disappearing into the house.

Dustin’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears out of sight, narrowing some before settling on his belongings on the counter. He regards them a moment, racking his brains for a plausible explanation — sure, going through someone’s wallet is a felony, but maybe it holds a clue to his strange behaviour. Probably some girl’s number, or something, scribbled onto a napkin with the i’s dotted with hearts. And Dustin swears, if Steve plans on bailing movie night early to go on a date, he isn’t sure he’ll be able to forgive him for it. He needs to have evidence, ammunition to call his bluff; prevent him making a move if that’s what he intends to do.

It’s a split second decision, but the devil on his right shoulder gets the better of him. He grabs the wallet from the counter hurriedly, opening it up to find it painfully empty. No napkin, nor any pieces of ripped, note paper; just some loose change, a crisp twenty, and — something barely visible tucked into a corner.

Dustin’s eyes light up. Jackpot. He only just manages to tug it out of it’s slot before the doorbell rings again, affording him a single second to register the polaroid photo before he’s hastily putting it back in.

He’s barely able to appreciate that it’s your picture in Steve’s wallet — the same you that’s since rung his doorbell twice more, in succession. And Dustin’s eyes are incredulously wide, expression fairly disbelieving, only just turning the handle as Steve Harrington peeks his head into the corridor.

“What’s the hold up?” He says with a frown, and then straightens some, clearing his throat and deepening his voice when he registers your figure in the doorway. “Oh, Y/n — hey!”

Dustin turns his head toward him, mouthing an exasperated “Hey?” before beckoning you in.

“Snacks are all set up in the living room,” he announces, ushering you forward quickly. “Rest of the gang’s all here, and uh — Steve, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Steve sends Dustin a bewildered glance, sharing a look with you before nodding his response.

“What?” He questions once you’re out of earshot, hazarding a stray glance behind him in case you were checking him out. Steve Harrington has been told he has a nice behind. Who is he to try and deny it?

“Dude,” Dustin raises his eyebrows, looking down at Steve’s wallet pointedly. “A polaroid? Seriously?”

Steve’s eyes widen, expression a perplexing mix of anger and sheer embarrassment. “Henderson,” he hisses, words near inaudible but unforgiving all the same, “you went through my fucking wallet?”

“A polaroid?” Dustin repeats, refusing to acknowledge the accusation.

Steve grimaces defeatedly, requiring a beat to gather his thoughts. “A polaroid.”

“In my defense,” he adds lamely, retrieving his wallet to take the photo out of it’s spot. “She looks illegal. I had to keep it.”

“Unbelievable,” Dustin mutters, looking as though he’s aged several years. “A polaroid of Y/n, of all people, who you know I have a crush on —”

Steve grins then, ruffling his curls affectionately. “Call her in ten years, buddy.”

“Call who in ten years?”

If Steve Harrington’s heart was a stack of pancakes, your voice would be the thick slab of butter that softens them right up. Your presence would be the maple syrup that sweetens every layer, your smile the knife one wields to cut it into neat pieces. You could destroy him, if you wanted to, and Steve Harrington would let you.

You narrow your eyes as you register their figures, clocking the polaroid photo in Steve’s hand with an exasperated scoff.

“Seriously, Steve?” You frown, heading toward them to snatch it from his grasp. “Is this the one you took yesterday? Because —”

You falter when you glance down at it, realising it isn’t catching you at an unflattering angle like the rest. “— oh, this one isn’t half bad, actually.”

“Isn’t half bad?” Steve repeats incredulously, forgetting for a moment that you share a very platonic relationship — boy-next-door, and his crazy beautiful best friend. “You’re not serious? You look like you’re fucking glowing, or some shit.”

The words leave his lips so matter-of-factly, so naturally, it’s no wonder they catch you off guard. Your breath hitches, something light and airy in your veins, and it’s only then that you look at him — really look at him, realise there’s more than just embarrassment to his sheepish gaze.

“He keeps it in his wallet,” Dustin blurts out then, and Steve wonder fleetingly whether it would be possible for the ground to open up. Swallow him whole, or his stupid kid; he isn’t fussy, he just needs one less person to be a part of this train wreck of a situation.

Your eyes widen a little at the revelation, a soft smile on your lips like you’re trying to fucking kill him. “Really?”

“Really,” Dustin affirms, though Steve’s punishing grip on his shoulder prevents him from continuing. His eyes dart back up to the older boy, preemptive wince on his lips; he knows better than to ignore the glare Steve sends his way, clearing his throat several times before attempting to separate.

“Anyway,” he adds, tugging at his shirt collar nervously. “I’ll, uh — yes, Lucas?” He shrugs then, points at thick silence as though someone in the gang has actually called his name. Adorable. Steve will have to get him a dollar store Emmy for his theatrics. “Yes, yeah — I’ll be right there!”

And he’s disappearing out of sight before you can so much as open your mouth in protest, leaving something warm and anticipatory in the air that’s raising paradoxical goosebumps on your skin.

“So,” you start awkwardly, breaking the silence first. “Your wallet, huh?”

Your voice is soft, endearingly so, and Steve is so pathetic over it, so hopeless, that he decides he’s better off telling the truth.

“You look stupidly cute in it, sour patch,” he says, addressing you by the same nickname he’s tormented you with since freshman year. It feels different this time, far sweeter. Like the spent memories that define your relationship now hold the promise of something greater.

He braves a step forward, thumb brushing over the contour of your cheek. Your lashes flutter at the action, pouty lips parting slightly, and you can feel your traitorous heart thump harder, wondering in a haze whether it could jump out of your chest cavity, and into his.

“I look stupidly cute in all of them,” you manage to counter, feeling his other hand on the skin of your waist, feather-light.

Steve cocks his head to one side, grinning in that roguish way he tends to do. “True.”

And he’s dipping his head a little now, lips inches from yours, every nerve-ending in your body lighting up in anticipation. When he first kisses you, it’s barely a brush — something tentative and soft, very un-King Steve like, as though you’re the first girl to really steal his heart. And when you don’t pull away, when you lean in, instead, Steve feels it like electricity in his veins — his hold tightens, his breath grows heavier, and he kisses you hard, like you’re something delicate he wants to ruin. It’s lawless and hot and renders you incapable of any thoughts — his lips on your skin, and you almost forget where you are.

Almost.

“Steve —” you manage to say between kisses, feeling them descend to the pulse point on your neck, your sensitive earlobe. “— the — kids —”

“Those cockblocks,” Steve breathes, murmuring the words into your skin like a prayer — like he’s worshipping you, and doesn’t plan on stopping yet, “can fucking wait for us to finish.”

“Ew, god, gross.”

Your eyes widen at the familiar voice, pulling Steve up hastily before turning toward the source.

“We’re coming!” You say, voice high and breathy like you’re halfway through a rendezvous.

“Or,” Max drawls, gagging violently before waving her hand about, “maybe like — don’t be hang out with middle-schoolers on a Saturday night, and go out on a real date or something?”

“Hey!” Dustin’s voice calls from the living room, the scowl on his lips audible. “No one ditches movie night, you hear me?”

Max fixes him a pointed glare, deciding to ignore the sentiment. She turns her head back to regard you, arms crossed, a beat or two passing before she’s nodding you off.

“Well?” She says impatiently, already heading back into the living room. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

You steal a glimpse at Steve once you’re sure she’s out of sight, stomach flipping pancakes when you realise he’s already zero-ed in you. He grins then, something smooth and delicious that has your knees buckling, taking a step back before offering his arm for you to link.

“C’mon,” he urges them, like danger and spice and bad decisions, “my polaroid’s in the car.”

—

tags: @milkiane @drewstarkey @rexorangecouny

[sokka-simp]

Indiana Jones | Steve Harrington

SUMMARY: When Steve persuades you to dress up as Marion while he dresses up as Indiana Jones for the Family Video stores Halloween shift, you didn’t think things could get much better. Until the two of you are left in the shop alone...

WARNING: SMUT 18+, hand jobs, filthy language, public exposure, exhibitionist kink, cum swallowing, costumes, a gender-neutral reader with fem anatomy, slightly sub! Steve!

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: I wrote this back in Oct of 2020 for a Halloween challenge, and now it's the next fic to be moved over to my proper NSFW account. Hope you enjoy it!

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE STEVE SMUT!

When your boyfriend, the ever-charming and dorky Steve Harrington decided that he was going to dress up as Indiana Jones for the Family Video store’s annual Halloween night shit, where every staff member was supposed to be in costume, you looked at him, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips and a determined look on his face.

“Steve, I thought you decided that you were going to go as Luke Skywalker, remember?” You closed the book you were reading and watched as he shook his head, crossed his arms over his chest and started to pace around the small living room of the house you shared.

“I know, I know. But then I spoke to Dustin and he said that nearly everyone is going to dress up as a Star Wars character because the costumes are easy to find and it’s so popular that it’s boring now.” The man huffed and collapsed on the sofa next to you, resting his socked feet on the edge of the coffee table and looked at you, pouting slightly as you rolled your eyes at his statement.

“I mean…I guess Dustin’s right, but you already hired the costume, Steve. And you told the manager who you were dressing up as, so it’s a bit late.” He shook his head at you, grinning as he spoke.

“Actually, I have it all worked out, sweetheart. Robin and her girlfriend finally decided on a costume each and she’s now gonna borrow the costume I hired and pay me back of course. And I’ve got heaps of time until we have to tell the manager our final costume, so it’s not really a big deal.” You chuckled at your boyfriend, shaking your head in amusement as he explained to you his plan, but you could also tell there was something else he wanted to say, because you could see how he kept opening his mouth to speak, but then shut it just as the words were about to come out.

“Okay, what else have you planned, Harrington? What’s the other reason you want to go as Indiana Jones?” He pursed his lips together, before turning to face you on the sofa, letting a breath out through his nose and pushing his hair back from his face.

“Well, when I was looking at the costume in the shop, the seller told me I can get half price off the hire price if I hire the costume that pairs it, so I thought…that you could be Marion? From Raiders of the Lost Ark?” He looked at you hopefully, eyes wide and bright as you stared at him confused, waiting for everything to make sense in your brain.

And then it struck you…the thought of Steve in that tight leather jacket, brown cargo pants and shirt that was always slightly unbuttoned, the worn hat that was a staple to the outfit, and the brown leather whip. And then you thought back to Marion’s outfit in the movie, a loose white blouse with red detailing, a large brown belt and a pair of astonishingly red pants that billowed around the legs, perfect for the hot weather of Egypt, but perhaps not right for the cold October weather of Hawkins, Indiana. But deep down, even if you were a little cold and a little uncomfortable, you knew it was worth it to see Steve in that jacket, holding that whip and looking so dashing in that hat.

So, you agreed to his proposition, nodded your head, accepted a grateful kiss on the lips, and headed to the costume shop on the edge of town.

On the night of the Halloween shift, Steve was giddy with excitement, hardly able to contain himself as he waited for you to get ready, sitting on the couch and trying to distract himself with whatever was on television. Neither of you had seen each other in the costumes yet, deciding to keep it as a surprise for the night, but already Steve was becoming impatient, calling out your name every few minutes to check if you were ready.

“C’mon sweetheart, our shift starts in twenty minutes and we’ve still gotta drive ten minutes to get there. I don’t want to be late.” He whined through the door, standing on the other side already dressed in his Indiana Jones costume, aside from the hat that he was only going to put on when you came out of your room. He didn’t want to ruin his already perfectly styled hair too early on in the night.

“Give me another couple of minutes, Steve. I’ll be out soon, I promise.” You heard him huff from the other side of the door, but he responded with an okay and stood in front of the television, watching whatever comedy show was playing.

In your bedroom, you were securing the large brown woven belt around your waist, pulling it tight around you and making sure your shirt was increased and sat flat against your chest and didn’t bunch up near the belt. Pairing the outfit with an old pair of black ankle boots you hardly wore and quickly applying a fresh coat of dark red lipstick before running a brush through your hair, you turned to look at your reflection in the mirror, happy with how you looked. You picked up your small black satchel and walked to the bedroom door, turning the door handle and pulling it open, waiting for Steve to notice you.

When he did, it was a sight to see. His mouth hung open, eyes went wide, and his cheeks visibly redden. He froze in front of you, TV forgotten about and all his attention locked on you, in awe as to how insanely good you looked.

“Jesus, baby, and I thought you couldn’t get any hotter.” You laughed at his remark as he walked closer, and then he was taking your hand and spinning you around for him, so he could get every angle of you in that costume. He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at you, and all you could do was lean up and press a kiss to his lips.

“You don’t look bad yourself, Stevie. Or should I say, Indiana?” And he did look good, extremely good in fact, because the brown cargo shirt was tight against his chest and arms, unbuttoned enough to see a small expanse of his tanned front, his pants also were tight in all the right places, and with his jacket on and his hands on his hips, he looked like the perfect explorer, searching for that magical piece of treasure, which on this night, was you. “But…I think there’s something missing.” You reached behind him and picked up his hat from the table, and gently placed it on his head, watching his hair fall into place underneath it as he responded with a lopsided grin, until he saw you pick up the long woven leather whip and move it in between your fingers, making him let out a muffled groan. Attaching the whip to the side of his belt and resting your hands against his chest, you kissed him quick before he had the chance to pull you closer, walking towards the door of the house and beckoning him to come.

“C’mon Steve. I thought you didn’t want to be late for work?” You smirked at him as you opened the door and walked outside to his car, knowing that right in this moment, he was running a hand over his face to calm himself and letting out a deep sigh, willing himself to stay in control tonight, even if he did already want to jump your bones.

The shift at the video store was surprisingly slow, with hardly any customers coming in to hire spooky Halloween movies, and the other two workers resorting the shelves, Steve and you were left standing behind the desk, clearing out the returned videos, waiting for customers to come in or just leaning against the counter like you had nothing to do. But you suddenly had other plans, especially when the other pair of workers finished their shift for the night early and left the two of you alone with a simple goodbye and the ring of the bell above the door.

It was dark outside by now, the clock already ticking past eleven at night, and soon every task that needed to be done in the store had been done, and Steve glanced at you with a face of pure boredom.

“You know, Robin really hyped this shift up when she told me I should do it. She told me that they had an endless line of customers and heaps of trick-o-treaters and it was hectic.” He let out a sigh, leaning against the counter near the cash register and looked at you.

“Not every Halloween night is the same, Steve.” He nodded back to you, and as soon as he saw the clock reach eleven thirty, he opened the register to start counting the money, starting the final closing process. You had an idea then, an idea that was sure to rile Steve up and get you fired if anyone found out, but you wanted to act on it nonetheless.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Mhm?” He kept his eyes focused on the money in front of it, counting slowly and writing the totals on a paper pad beside him, brown furrowed in concentration and hair falling just above his eyes.

“How much do you think people can see if they were on the other side of the counter? Like it’s pretty high right, you wouldn’t be able to see anything under someone’s stomach, yeah?” He glanced at you briefly, before turning back to his task at hand, nodding his head slightly.

“I dunno, sweetheart. I’ve never really thought about it to be honest.” He nearly seemed disinterested, but you could hear the hint of curiosity in his voice as he tried to figure out what you were talking about, but soon his breath was taken away, because your lips were ghosting along the exposed skin of his neck, so very close and warm.

“You wanna help me find out, Stevie?” He sucked in a breath at the nickname, and nodded his head at your question, leaning into your touch slightly, feeling your hand run itself along his chest, across his stomach and rest just above the waist band of his cargo pants.

“Sure, baby, why not.” He tried to seem casual, like he was too focused on the money to give you his full attention, but you both knew that he was only pretending, from the way his hand came to grip the edge of the counter and how his muscles flexed under the skin of his stomach as you ran your hand over it, warm and firm to the touch. You went to go lower, but stopped yourself to ask him if he was ready, if he truly wanted to do this, and he just smiled at you softly, eyes glazed over slightly as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Please sweetheart, do whatever you want to do. I want it.” You smirked against his lips as he spoke, and as soon as he was done, you were running your hand over his growing bulge, pressing your fingers lightly against it as he let out a shaky sigh and gripped the edge of the counter with both hands now.

You palmed him through his pants first, littered his neck and jaw with shallow kisses, let your other hand wrap around his waist and slip your fingers underneath his shirt, and he let out noises of pleasure, soft and breathy at first as you started off light, but then louder as your fingers were quickly slipping away to go under the waist band of his pants, coming in contact with his growing erection. Your eyebrows raised in surprised, and you let out a small whisper.

“No underwear, baby boy? Were you expecting something to happen today?” He gulped at your words, and hung his head down slightly, moaning lowly as you wrapped your fingers around him as your other hand moved to unbutton his pants and pull them to his thigh, cock out in the open now and sticking straight out.

“To be honest, I was going to take you to the back room and eat you out on the table, but right now, this is feeling pretty good.” You laughed at that, watching as he smiled a blissed out smile and watched his cheeks go red.

“Just wait, baby, when we get home, you can do all that and more.” You started to jerk him off then, his cock moving quickly in your grasp and the precum that had already dribbled out giving you a small bit of lubrication to work with. “Now, don’t just stand there, I thought you were supposed to be counting the money?” He groaned at your words, and moved a hand to push some of his hair out of his face, before turning to look at you.

“You’re a devil tonight.” Steve kissed you, lips warm and strong against yours, quickly turning the kiss into one of burning passion and greed as he wound his arm around your waist, but toon soon you were pushing his arm away and directing him to the counter.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. If you don’t start counting, I’m gonna stop touching your cock, and we both know you don’t want that.” Steve shook his head, and after stealing one final kiss, he picked up the money and started counting, sorting the coins first into small piles.

You started to stroke him faster, your palm warm against him and your other hand winding itself into his hair, massaging his scalp the way you knew he liked, running your finger nails against his skin, tugging his hair gently and pulling out loud and deep moans from within him. With only the coins and one-dollar bills sorted, Steve’s legs were already shaking, but you were nowhere near finished with him. You wanted him right on the edge, begging you to let him come, moaning your name feeling like he was going to explode. But right as you started to circle your finger around the tip, the little bell over the store door rang, and Steve looked up with a look of utter panic over his face, trying to stand up straight as you kept a soft hold on his cock.

“You reckon you can be quiet while I pump your cock and you serve these customers, baby boy? If you can, I might just let you cum sooner than I planned.” Steve let out a low whine as you whispered the dirty words in his ear. He was shaking, a flush spreading up his neck and cheeks. But he nodded all the same, told you to keep going and plastered a fake smile on his face; not that the customers entering the store noticed.

An elderly couple walked in, hand in hand came straight up to the counter, placing a hired tape on the surface before they started speaking.

“Oh, I’m glad you were still open! We were driving home from our friends Halloween dinner and I had put the tape in the glove box of the car to remember to bring it back here, and suddenly I remembered I had it after a week as we drove by.” The elderly lady pushed a copy of Gone with the Wind towards Steve and smiled sweetly at him, and all he could do was offer a weak one back, trying to stay silent as you pumped his cock under the counter slowly.

“Well, it’s a good thing that our manager decided to stay open late on Halloween evening, otherwise the two of you love birds might have missed your chance.” You smiled at them, and with the hand that wasn’t stroking your boyfriends dick, you picked up the video tape and deposited it into the returned box. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

“Very much, dear. I’ve always loved that story and the acting is impeccable. Now how much do we owe for the late hire?” The woman pulled out her purse from the handbag hanging from her wrist and looked at Steve expectantly.

“Uh… $2.99 ma’am.” His voice was shaky and as he reached a hand up to take the money she was offering him, you decided right then to turn it up a notch, jacking off his dick so quickly now you were surprised the couple standing just over six feet away didn’t hear the obscene noises of skin on skin, or even lift a surprised eyebrow as Steve let out a long groan, clutching the money in one hand and the counter with the other. Hiding you smirk, you turned back to the couple and rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s having a bad case of stomach cramps after having too much Halloween candy. You know how some get, just can’t wait until they get home for a treat. He’s going to the doctor tomorrow to get sorted out.” With a final smile, and a firm tug on Steve’s cock that had him letting out a loud groan that was muffled with his hand, you wished the elderly couple a good night as Steve came in your hand, white hot streaks hitting the skin of your palm. The two of them told him to get better, and then walked out the door, not even raising so much as an eyebrow after an explanation was given.

As soon as they were gone, Steve collapsed against the counter, hair a sweaty mess stuck under his hat and his pants stained with drops of cum. He looked a mess, but a face of pure bliss covered his features as he looked over to you licking some of the cum off your hand before wiping the rest of it off with a tissue. His eyes darkened, and you knew, as soon as the two of you had closed up the shop for the night, drove home and got to your house, that he would make you pay for that, in every way possible.

But first he kissed you, hard and fast with biting teeth and warm lips that seemed to make you wetter than you already were, pressing himself against you so you could feel his cock hardening again already against your waist and his chest against yours.

“Are you happy now, sweetheart? Happy that you got to have your fun and nearly have us fired and embarrassed in front of customers?” He was nipping at your neck, leaving small marks against the skin and running his tongue over them to sooth them, and all you could do was let out a breathy sigh as he tucked his dick back into his trousers and waited for you to speak.

“Very happy, Stevie. And I think I’m going to be even happier when we get home too, because I’m sure you’ve got your own plans for the night.” Steve smirked at you, kissed you quickly before pulling away and moving around the counter, locking the store door and turning the open sign around.

“You better help me close up quick, baby, otherwise I might not be able to wait until we get home.” And with that, the two of you went back to your job, finishing up counting the money, setting the till, righting the displays and shutting off the lights to return home…with much more to come.

PLEASE REBLOG FOR MORE STEVE SMUT!

Tagging (TO JOIN FIND THE LINK ON MY PINNED POST) @gay-prentiss @sadgirlml @writingquillsandpainpills @eddiemunsonbby

[sokka-simp]

Bro Steve got me down bad

How Eddie and Steve would react to you calling them Daddy for the first time.

Minors, DNI, get away, fr.

Warnings: daddy kink obv, name calling (slut), choking, overstimulation, slight size kink if ur paying attention, Steve and Eddie being hot.

Steve would be surprised, considering you've been having sex for a while and have never said anything like that. You've stuck to his name and the occasional "baby" and that was the end of it.

I think it would happen on a night that he's teasing you a little too much. Light grazes on your thigh and softly holding your face when what you really want him to do is manhandle you. You just get a little too frustrated, a little too desperate, and you let out a feverish whine of "Daddy, pleaseeee."

You know what you said, but you're too pent up to care. Steve would stop, look up at you, and ask you what you said. You wouldn't wanna say it again because now you can't tell how he felt about it. Steve hovers over you, maybe grabs you by the neck, and whispers in your ear "Be a good girl for Daddy and say it again."

Yeahhhhh you're not allowed to call him anything else after that.

Now Eddie. Eddie's been trying to pull it out of you for some time, you've just been stronger than he thought you'd be. He'd been fucking you rougher, holding you tighter, talking down to you a little more. Just doing anything he can to get you to say it. He knew you liked it, he'd heard you admit it to your friends. He just needed you to say it on your own, he wasn't going to ask.

It would finally happen when you're in bed, on your third orgasm of the night, as he's nearing you to a fourth. His dick is so deep inside you, you can feel it touching your cervix. His thumb pressed firmly on your clit but it's not moving it, or his cock for that matter. He's spitting out the filthiest things at you. "Look at you, taking me so well like a good little slut. You spread these legs for me every day and I still manage to split you open each time."

You'd be begging him to move, rub your clit, do something to make you feel better. He'd just keep saying "That's not good enough, darling, you need to beg better." He'd push his cock in even more, if that's even possible, and laugh at you almost crying. That's what breaks you and makes you finally scream "Daddy, please! Please, fuck me! Give it to me, Daddy, I'll do anything just please fuck me!"

He'd lean down to whisper in your ear "That's all you had to say, princess. Now, be still and let Daddy have his way with you, yeah?"

[sokka-simp]

This is so cute and I love Steve like real life love like not fictional character love like I think I love him anyways this is cute

wwoioooooisisis!!! could you do something like steve is always warm and reader always has cold hands? and like reader is always trying to hold his hand and he’s like “NO SYOP YOURE CLOLD”

like last time, I shall attempt to do these as head canons, because honestly, why not?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warning(s): do cold feet and hands count as a warning???

this is pretty fluffy and cute, and a quick little post because I’ll be working so much in the next couple weeks, so I hope you lovelies enjoy!

Steve is a touchy person by nature, it’s in his DNA

So naturally, cuddling is his always his endgame

He loves to wrap himself into you (and vice versa), just wanting to feel the warmth of your body on his, and listen as your hearts beat rhythmically together

Except…

You tend to run quite cold

While he runs on the warmer side

Okay, the very warm side

Steve’s also a bit of a whiner, opting to complain about things just for the sake of complaining

Which you find hilarious by the way

Because you’ve not had a day since you started dating where he hasn’t clung to you and gone “babeeeee” in an exasperated tone about something or other he’s bothered by, at least two or three times

So when the seasons change, and Hawkins begins to brace for the hardships of winter, you expect to hear that whining utterance increase tenfold

Because as much as Steve loves to cuddle, when it’s with him, you do too

And unfortunately for Steve, in the winter that means a lot of cold bare feet pressed up against his warm, cozy body

Which granted, isn’t your fault, but still…

Whenever you climb into bed with him, and try to wrap yourself into him, there’s a lot of:

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah…”

And:

“What do you think you’re doing?”

And your response is always:

“Um, cuddling.”

Like, duh???

It’s also pretty much the same deal when you go to hold his hand

“No, no, no, no, no.” He’d say. “Get those icicle hands of yours away from mine. This,” he’d gesture wildly to himself, “is a cold free zone.”

You always make grabby hands at him with a mocking pout on your face, because even though it’s true, your hands are very cold, his tone is always light full of comedy

Sometimes, when you’re feeling cheeky, you’ll reach for him on purpose, trying to get a reaction out of him

And he knows it too

“Hands off woman!” He’d say with the most stern look he can achieve, except by the end of the sentence, his face is breaking out into a giddy grin

It’s not hard to tell he’s joking, and that if you really tried/cared, he’d hold your hand at any time

Because he loves you more than he ever thought himself capable (and also because he’s a touch starved man who adores affection and intimacy — but that’s besides the point…)

So, whenever it’s on the colder side, you’ve started a tradition of bringing the both of you a pair of gloves to wear

Your first Christmas together, it was actually kind of a joke gift that you got him, and now he brings them everywhere, even when it’s warm

They’re his lucky gloves

That way, if it’s cold outside, you can hold hands whenever you want, without having to hear Steve complain about how fucking freezing your hands are

As funny as that is

And don’t think this doesn’t go the other way

Because, like mentioned earlier, Steve Harrington, runs warm

Very warm

So when the summer rolls around, and the tables are turned, you best believe you’re going to whine and complain about just how darn hot he is

And whenever you say it, you want to smack yourself

Because of course, Steve will always send you a cheeky grin and a wink, with a smug “thank you babe.”

“I am super hot aren’t I?” Is his standard line.

You groan internally and externally, every time

“Fuck off.” Your tone is full of a teasing playfulness. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

He doesn’t care — he knows you think he’s super hot anyway, despite his body also being temperature hot

It’s a win win for him really

Honestly, at this point, the complaining about each other’s tendencies to run warm or cold has become a habit that’s ingrained into you

It’s fun and light and always makes everyone around you laugh

Dustin will never admit this, but he thinks it’s just about the cutest shit he’s ever seen, and it makes his heart warm every time he sees those goddamn gloves that you got Steve for Christmas years ago

Because it’s a testament of your love for each other

Despite your flaws, despite everything, you will always find solutions to be together

As annoying as your PDA around him can be

“C’mon guys.” He’d whine mockingly. “Knock it off.”

Dustin, much like Steve is no stranger to making whining complaints. It’s a habit that has you smiling, finding a comfort in its existence

“Never.” You and Steve grin back in unison

“You know you love us Henderson.” Steve always teases

And while in the moment, he hates to, he can admit it, he loves you both more than anyone else

“Yeah yeah.” He’d wave off, turning his head back to the tv to the movie you were watching, as you and Steve snuggle on his couch. A soft smile spreads onto his face.

“Whatever.”