#STEVE. interact

[miamaimania]

"Pigeon feeding near Blue Mosque" ~ Istanbul, Turkey (1991) by Steve McCurry ⌘ Wrapped in earth tones, creating a momentary avian constellation

[mazeheart]

[ joe keery ] i just saw that STEVE HARRINGTON arrived in mystic, ct ! they're TWENTY-SIX and a CANON character from STRANGER THINGS. however, you might want to check first because while they've been here THREE MONTHS they DO NOT BELIEVE they have been here their whole lives. make sure to make them feel right at home.

[mild-lust]

"He's an idiot." Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6k

❥ ᴘᴀɪʀ��ɴɢ: Sweet!Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.

❥ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI! 18+ content! Explicit language. Smut with undertones of fluff, and a little angst (if you squint). Unprotected penetrative sex, f!receiving oral sex, past casual relationship with Eddie.

❥ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first post, nerve wracking as hell !! I think I got a bit carried away !

You stare at the phone blankly after hanging it up. It was a call that you had been all but unfamiliar with receiving, but it conflicted you all the same each time. And always went the same way. He would make fake niceties, ask you shallow questions about your day and try to keep up some small talk before, inevitably, asking the same damn question. 

“Do you wanna come over tonight?”

You huffed in annoyance each time, making a half-hearted attempt to resist and trying to conjure up some lame excuse not to, but each time you would end the call with a reluctant ‘Fine, Eddie, I’ll be there.’ You hated yourself for being persuaded so easily. It was basically routine at this point, and it was stupid of you to even pick up the phone in the first place. As soon as you heard his voice on the other line, you should’ve hung up on him. You always think these things are so easy to do until you have to do them, until you hear his sultry voice pleading on the other end of the phone for just one more time. You let yourself think, in that moment, that maybe it’ll be different for once. It’s a stupid, short-lived belief.

Even so, you find yourself sat in front of your vanity again, brushing your hair and curling your eyelashes in hopes of impressing him. Maybe if your cheeks are a little more rosy, your eyelids a little more colourful, he might change how he feels about you. He might come to the revelation that he wants more than just sex this time. You know your efforts are futile, as long as your clothes are easy to take off he couldn’t care less about anything else, but it makes you feel better for a few moments to let yourself believe otherwise is true. You reluctantly slip on a matching set of underwear, lacy and baby pink. Very intentional. You know you look good, and you know that Eddie will appreciate it. You realize that this is the reason he expects the same thing every time—because you deliver it. You curse yourself for it. Shaking the thought from your head, you step into a short pink dress, throwing a cable-knit cardigan on top. 

You try not to think as you walk down the stairs, out of your house, and down the street to his. You consider turning back about a million times, but you end up at his trailer before you can actually muster the courage to do it. You knock on the door a couple times, waiting patiently, stupidly, for a response. Then again when you don’t receive an answer, the action proving ultimately as useless as the first one. You raise onto your tiptoes to try peek through the window, and you find that the trailer is completely empty inside. Your face grows warm as you look around the trailer park, realizing no one is around or waiting for you. 

Tears threaten your eyes, and you forcefully blink them away before they get the chance to well. You shake your head, promising yourself that you won’t be brought down by the behaviour of Eddie Munson. Not again. You turn and make your way back down the street, your shoulders slumping. The street is desolate and lifeless, the late hour clearing the pedestrians from wandering and leaving you alone on the road. That is, until headlights shine from behind you, casting your shadow on the concrete front of you. 

A familiar burgundy BMW slows as it approaches, stopping beside you. The tinted window rolls down, and you’re met with the face of Steve Harrington. You brush a stray hair from your face, then attempt to clean the smudged mascara from beneath your eyes with the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hey, L/N,” he drapes his arm over the door, “what are you doing out here?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked as he looks up and down the dark street. You’re slightly surprised to hear the concern in his voice. Although, you suppose, you’ve seen him around and you hang around a lot of the same people. Besides, it’s kind of impossible to roam the halls of Hawkins High School and never hear the name King Steve. You’ve had quite a bit of interaction with this boy, but the significance of your friendship only really occurs to you the moment that he stops his drive to talk to you. 

You shrug your shoulders, and you feel your cheeks grow rosy as you realize you have to find a way to avoid telling him the truth for the sake of your own dignity. He raises an eyebrow at you, “It’s late, you know,” he says, pointing out the obvious. You feign a small, agreeing smile, nodding your head as you avert your gaze to the ground. You open your mouth to speak, hesitating when you try to figure out what to say, “I know. I, um,” you shake your head, “I was just on the way home.”

He’s clearly dissatisfied with your response, concern still evident on his face when he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “That’s awfully vague,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Here, you want a ride?” he asks, gripping the stick shift and switching back into drive, his gaze unwavering. 

You blink at him, slightly surprised by the invitation, “No, that's okay, Steve.”

You purse your lips into a polite smile, and he gives you a disapproving frown along with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. He opens the door opposite to him, a gesture for you to get in. His tone is persistent but gentle, “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the empty seat beside him, “Let me at least get you off the street. You can chill at my place, just to… you know, not be alone.”

You carefully consider his offer, pulling your lower lip between your teeth in thought, a subconscious attempt to suppress the smile that tries to pull your cheeks. You dip your chin, soon decidedly trotting your way around the front of his car and slipping through the passenger door. His arm crosses your body as he shuts it beside you with a soft thud, before he returns his grip back to the steering wheel. You lay your hands in your lap, watching yourself fiddle with your fingers. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never been alone with this boy. The car is quiet for a beat, the low hum of the engine bringing ambience to the space. You realize that you feel a bit less lonesome now, being in this car with him. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you wonder if he knows that he’s saved you from a harrowing, pitiful night at home alone. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, needlessly ashamed to say it. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he says as he turns to look at you, his expression curious once again. “Where were you coming from?” 

You scrunch your nose and bring your gaze back down to your nervous, fidgeting fingers. “Nowhere,” you lie, the familiarity of embarrassment crawling up your neck. 

He gives you a comforting half-smile, his eyes shifting back to the road now that he has you talking, the engine turning and thrusting the vehicle forward. “No, come on.”

You hide your face with your hands, an action you realize is meaningless as he’s not even looking at you anymore, “God, it’s embarrassing.”

He smiles amusedly when he senses your unease. He remains wordless, the quiet itself urging you to continue. “I went to… um, Eddie’s place.” The words leave your mouth reluctantly, humiliating and heavy on your tongue. 

You see his eyes widen a bit as he processes what you’ve said. “No kidding,” He says with a scoff, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Munson?”

Your chest tightens, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed by your actions or Steve’s reaction. “Yes, Munson,” you huff, “but nothing happened.” 

He seems to lose some amusement from your clarification, potentially hoping for a juicier outcome. To your surprise, he doesn’t press any further. You were glad to see him bring his focus back to the road, going back to quietly navigating the stark streets for the remainder of the drive. You watch the unlit houses go by through the window, cruising by streets you only faintly recognize. Before you know it, Steve is pulling into his driveway and leading you up the small steps to his front door. He coolly unlocks it and opens it for you, welcoming you into the darkness of his living room. Light creeps in from a small light in the kitchen, allowing you to just barely make out the outline of his furniture.

You squint your eyes, lingering in his foyer once you’ve hung up your sweater. He sets down his keys and heads towards his staircase. “Are your parents home?” you ask tentatively.

“Nope,” he replies, “they’re in Chicago for the weekend.”

He throws the words away, moving into his house without a second thought, apparently used to being alone. It’s only when he disappears into the kitchen that you think to catch up to him, finding him with a crisp can of Coke already opened. He leans against the open door of his refrigerator, his head tipping back as he takes a swig. You stand in the doorway, your eyes trailing up his exposed neck, moles sparsely trickling along his flesh and adams apple as it bobs with deep gulps. Your eyes snap back to his face when he speaks again, “Want something to drink?” 

You shake your head and murmur a sheepish ‘That’s okay, thank you’. He nods and moves past you, travelling across the long distance between his kitchen and his living room. You follow behind him, your head turning every which way to take in his house. It’s spacious, tasteful, but you can’t help but notice its overbearing hollowness. The halls are empty and dark, any sign of liveliness or family apparently absent. You wonder how often his parents must be gone for the house to be this pristine, practically untouched. You clear your throat, taking a seat next to him on the couch, sure to keep a safe distance between the two of you. 

“What were you doing at Eddie’s house?” Steve questions you again, breaking the silence and setting his elbows on his knees. You recognize an edge that suggests more than just innocent curiosity; an insistence that makes you wonder if he’s truly interested in your answer rather than simply enticed by the gossip. 

“Um,” you wet your lips, “he wasn’t even there, actually.” Your mouth dries up as you say it, the reminder digging a pit in your stomach. He tilts his head to the side, clearly not understanding.

“Hm? Why not?” 

You raise your shoulders, letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “He was supposed to be.”

Uncertainty flickers on his face, and his expression softens when he realizes the implication. “Oh,” he utters, his voice quieter now, “I see.” He leans back against the couch, looking down at his lap. 

“It’s not a big deal,” the words tumble out, quick to reassure him. “We’re not, like, together or anything. Just… kinda sucks.” His eyes find yours as you speak, actively searching for any sign of doubt on your face. You press your lips together, “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” he nods slowly, not entirely convinced of your apathy. “Well, he’s a dick, you hope you know.” 

Your lips curl, eased by his attempt to sympathize with your being stood up. You wave him off. “Oh, whatever.” 

“Seriously,” he persists, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of his Coke.

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s Eddie.”

“I guess. Still a dick move,” his voice softens. “I mean, no dude should get to stand anyone up.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly careful to choose the right words. “You don't deserve that. You’re… a really nice girl.”

“Nice?”

Steve keeps your gaze when he continues, “Yeah. He’s a moron.” He tsks. “If I had someone like you coming over…” He trails off, unsure of whether or not he should continue. 

“What?” you ask curiously.

“I mean—look at you. I’d be waiting at the door."

“Really?” you say. As if you need to hear it again to fully understand what he means. 

He swallows dryly, setting his can onto the coffee table and, in turn, settling closer to you. “Come on, you’re gorgeous.” He says simply. 

His leg brushes yours, and he doesn’t pull away. You nod, mostly to yourself, and try not to smile too obviously as you look down at your lap. “Thank you,” you mutter quietly enough that you’re not sure if he hears it. There’s no indication even once you look back at him, but you realize that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You feel your cheeks burn up, and you hope he doesn’t notice the pinkish-red that tends to slither up your neck when you get nervous. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, though.”

You purse your lips, somehow embarrassed not to have been told something when you have no control over whether or not you’re told. You try to shrug it off, “Not really.”

Steve is visibly puzzled by this. “No?” He asks inquisitively. 

“You know,” you say, trying to feign indifference. “Eddie’s not really… a talker.”

“‘Not really a talker’? What does that mean?” he replies, as if there’s no way he could be interpreting this correctly. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, instinctually starting to feel defensive over Eddie, despite yourself.

“You know,” you say again, hoping he’ll understand before you have to say it. “Neither of us really talked. Not much opportunity for compliments.”

He scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

You frown and swat him half-heartedly, “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not,” he raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a mock-surrender, “Just saying. Must’ve been real good for you to put up with all that.”

You laugh humourlessly, glancing away from him. “Yeah, you’d think so.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your crypticity. It only takes him a second, and his eyes flit back to yours. He cocks his head. “He wasn’t?” he asks lightly, trying to sound casual though the interest in his eyes isn’t exactly subtle.

You don’t want to offer anything more, admittedly embarrassed to elaborate. You figure he can read between the lines, but his gaze is unwavering, still curious. You hesitate before you continue, “I don’t know.” Part of you wants to protect Eddie’s intimate life for the sake of his privacy, while the other doesn’t really care after what he pulled tonight. Decidedly, you go with the better part. “It was never really about me.”

“What, you mean, he never, like… you never—” he breaks, his eyebrows raising as it dawns on him, “Oh.”

You’re grateful that he’s not judgmental about it, just surprised. Possibly even for your sake. Silence hangs between the two of you for a moment, not particularly uncomfortably, before he breaks it again. “Wow, that sucks.” All you do is tighten your lips and nod agreeingly. “You deserve, um,” he stops to weigh his words, “You should be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means. He’s searching your face, as if he’s still trying to decide something, and his eyes dip to your mouth almost imperceptibly. He sets his hand onto your knee, gingerly, giving you the opportunity to pull away from him. You don’t. 

You let out a nervous exhale as he leans closer to you, the distance between you closing further and further. Once his mouth meets yours, it’s drastically different from the hungry, lustful make-outs you’d shared with Eddie. He presses softly, his lips moving cautiously, still proposing a question. He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, only leaving an inch or two between you. Another opportunity to let you pull away if you wanted to. Once he sees that you don’t, his hand moves to cup the side of your face, and he kisses you again with more fervour. Though his lips are still moving with care, gentleness, there is more intent behind it. He’s eager. 

You shift closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you rest your hand on his leg. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, a silent request meant to coax it open. You answer it, slipping your tongue alongside his. You still yourself, suddenly unsure, and wonder if you’re moving too quickly. You’re not sure of how far he’s meaning to take it, or whether or not the kiss was supposed to mean anything at all. Your answer comes soon after when his hand trails carefully up your thigh, deliberate and certain. You lean into his touch, and he gently pulls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and he places both hands on the small of your back. You sigh softly against his mouth, moving your hands to both sides of his neck and drawing him impossibly closer. 

The skirt of your dress gathers around your thighs when your front presses flush to his, your legs spread across his lap. His hands travel to your bare thighs before he stops himself at the hem of your dress. He lets out a careful exhale, pulling his lips from yours and searching your eyes. Your noses still touch, his breath fans hotly against your face, and you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you whisper reassuringly, answering the question he hasn’t yet asked aloud. 

“No, I…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. He swallows once, then utters quietly, “Upstairs?” 

The single word earns a fervent nod from you, and you lift yourself from his lap, offering your hand to him. He hastily takes it, moving in front of you to lead you out of the living room and up his staircase. Once you’ve made it to his room, he shuts the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’. He crosses the room with only a couple strides, his hands again holding your face and bringing you into another kiss before you can even make it to the bed. He walks you backwards and only breaks away from your lips once the back of your legs bump against it, then he lowers you gently on top of his rumpled bedspread. As he crawls over you, his lips attach to your neck and kisses tenderly along your jaw. 

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours to take a second to catch his breath. His hand rubs the fat of your thigh, hesitating when it traces the hem of your dress. You place your hand on his and guide it higher up your leg. 

Steve sits back for a brief moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and causing it to pile in a heap on the floor. He leans back down for another kiss too quickly for you to properly see him, so you resort to instead moving your hands to run delicately along his stomach and up to his chest. He grasps your thigh and hikes it up to his hip, opening your body against him. His hips rut gently against yours just once, and you can tell that he’s making an effort to restrain himself. The growing tent in his jeans rubs roughly against you even after he stops moving. His hand wanders further up your thigh, skimming the bottom of your dress and pausing, almost waiting for you to stop him. Yet again, you don’t. Instead, you raise your arms to allow him to peel it over your head and discard it to the floor, just as his shirt was. 

Your face grows hot when you’re left bare underneath him. As he leans back onto his knees, you see his breath hitch in his throat when the lingerie that you initially put on for Eddie is revealed. His hands instinctively move to your hips, tracing his fingers along the lacy material that clings to your curves, his eyes still fixated on your body.

The longer he stares, the more self-conscious you feel, even if it only lasts for a second. “What?” you ask sheepishly, pulling your knees together in a half-hearted attempt to close yourself off. 

“Nothing,” he responds quickly, his eyes darting back to yours, “It’s just… Eddie’s an idiot.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, your hands reaching out to pull him back in for a kiss—partly to stop him from staring much longer. Obviously, that’d been the reaction you’d hoped for, but you’d gotten so used to being stripped so hurriedly that it was surprising to be given more than a few seconds before rushing to the ‘good part’.

 His hands continue to admire your body when his eyes can’t, moving along your waist and eventually cupping your breast. His thumb brushes over the hardened peak of your nipple through the thin material, the sensation causing a shudder to run down your spine. Your back arches into him responsively, along with a quiet moan that’s muffled by his mouth. 

His lips travel down to your neck and press hotly below your ear, tenderly making their way down to your chest. His erection rubs evidently against your inner thigh. Despite himself, he doesn’t grind or urge against you. He still takes his time to plant gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, lower, lower, lower…

Faint pants escape from your lips, your chest rising and falling heavily. His lips press between your breasts, trailing down to your belly button, to the soft plush of your inner thigh. You gasp softly, a chill running through your body when he presses a feathery kiss to your clothed clit. He continues to pepper light kisses on your thighs as one hand roams along the side of your body, stopping when it reaches the lace of your panties. His eyes flicker to yours, and you answer the question he means to ask with a keen nod of your head. 

A finger hooks the material, sliding them down your legs smoothly. Once they pass your thighs, knees, and ankles, he balls up your underwear and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands around your legs to pull you closer to him.

Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. Your cunt pulses desperately, the almost torturous pace he’s setting already making your head spin. He evasively pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and in its place, he slides his middle finger to glide along your folds. He slips it in tentatively, his eyes wide as he looks up at you for even a semblance of hesitance or doubt. All he’s met with is the soft gasp that’s drawn from your lips, a clear green light for him to continue. Pushing deeper into your soaking entrance, his finger curls and his lips attach to your clit, suckling. This earns another gasp, the pretty noises coming from your mouth growing more consistent once his finger starts to slip in and out of you. 

His tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and he slides his index finger alongside his middle, his thick digits already starting to stretch you out as they move with mesmerizing care. You have to make an effort not to tug too hard on his hair when your fingers thread through it, your knees draping over his shoulders. With his tongue lapping and sucking on your puffy clit, fingers curling expertly to brush against your sweet spot with every pump, you realize how badly you’d been lying to yourself about ‘not minding’ the lack thereof with Eddie. Because, Jesus, does this feel fucking phenomenal.

His free hand moves to grasp your thigh, encouraging your legs to stay open once they try to close around his head. You start to burn up from the inside, being pushed closer to the edge despite his pace that refuses to quicken to match your rapid breaths. It’s a bit embarrassing to near your orgasm so quickly before he’s even fully undressed, but it’s excruciatingly hard to focus on anything except the waves of pleasure that wade through your body. 

“Steve,” you breathe, trying to grab his attention. You tighten your fingers in his hair, a weak attempt to break him away from you, but he persists. Your skin tingles with the sensation of his tongue working against you, and the lust that blooms in your lower tummy begs you to take this further. You squirm slightly underneath him as you mewl his name once again, “Steve...” 

All he does is him in mindless acknowledgement, the sound being muffled by your cunt. Once you get him to finally pull away and look at you, he is a visionary. His lips are pink and wet, parted slightly as he gazes up to look at you. His dark hair is tousled by your eager grasp and a strand falls loosely onto his forehead. You brush it from his eyes. You truly don’t know how much longer you can wait to have him, and you find yourself driven by this burning impatience. 

You urge him to move from between your thighs, pulling him to sit up. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you lay him down beside you and climb on top of him, settling your knees on either side of his hips. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, pulling it off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. This warrants a groan to erupt from deep in his throat, his eyes taking in your bare chest as if he’s immediately committed to memorizing it for future notice. 

“So pretty…” he whispers, and it’s unclear whether or not he meant for you to hear him. 

He attaches his mouth to yours again, wasting no time to slip his tongue past your lips and explore. There’s a newfound sense of urgency now, his movements still deliberate but considerably more driven. You shift backwards to give yourself enough room to start working on his belt buckle, your fingers fumbling as if you’ve never undone a belt in your life. Then he lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down his thighs, and he’s left in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs, the barrier between the two of you starting to dwindle. You can’t stand being naked where he remains clothed, even if it’s nothing but a pair of briefs, so your fingers move quickly to slide under his waistband. You wet your lips and tug delicately, just enough that his erection is revealed from beneath the fabric. 

You almost salivate when he springs free and weighs heavily against his stomach, a drop of precum gathered at the pink tip. You can’t help but reach to wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. His reaction is immediate; his eyebrows creasing, his lips parting with a sharp inhale, and his head tipping back against the headboard with a faint ‘thud’. You swipe the bead of arousal at the head with your thumb, before moving your hand slowly down his length. You’re only granted a stroke or two, base to tip, before he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Easy,” he breathes, seemingly concentrated on restraining himself from ending the night right then and there. 

It’s unspoken, but there is a mutual understanding between the both of you that he needs to get inside you, like, yesterday. You lean forward, bracing yourself with one hand and arching your back somewhat purposefully, allowing you to hover above his cock. He shifts between your legs, his hand replacing yours at the base. You’re a bit embarrassed by the sheer amount of arousal that already coats his thick cockhead, though he seems to be in utter disagreement with you when he responds with a guttural groan. He aligns himself with your slick, carefully gliding the tip up and down without yet going in. 

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, despite the telling circumstances. 

“Yes, Steve,” you respond firmly, almost exasperated by his unwavering hesitancy. “I want you,” you emphasize, hoping the slight whine in your voice is enough to soothe his uncertainty. 

Luckily, those three words are all he needs to hear. Once he properly positions himself, all he says after that is a small ‘Tell me if you wanna stop’, and his hands move to steady your hips. Your eyebrows knot, and your chest swells with anticipation, even nervousness. His tender demeanor, the way he looks at you, it’s so overly different from how Eddie treated you. You wonder how you ended up here, with Steve, instead of in Eddie’s trailer as you always do. Coincidence, you suppose. If you had ended up there again, you certainly wouldn’t—

Holy fuck.

The thoughts are swept clean from your head once he guides you down onto him, your mind overcome instantly with the tantalizing stretch his cock brings upon entrance. Your nails go to grasp his shoulders, your jaw slackening with an audible gasp. Your eyes flutter open, your senses overwhelmed with the firm grip he holds on you, the grunt that falls from his lips, the air that punches from your throat with the first deep, experimental thrust. 

He holds your soft hips tightly, enough that it seems he’s keeping you from moving any more. “Jesus christ,” Steve mutters, his voice strained. “You’re so—fuck.”

You give yourself a moment to adjust, partly for his sake, especially because it seems if you move at all he’s going to fucking explode. Once you see him relax, you set a controlled pace, rolling your body against his. His eyes fixate on where you’re connected, and you watch his expression change; the light crease between his eyebrows, the lower lip that he sucks between his front teeth, his jaw that tenses visibly. It’s not long before he’s drawing small, breathy moans from you, his cockhead dragging mesmerizingly along your inner walls. 

Soon, you find yourselves in a rhythm, your bodies familiarizing themselves with each other and starting to work in tandem. Your hands slide up to the sides of his neck and you let your head fall back to look at the ceiling, your face starting to twist in pleasure. You can’t help the noises that drawl from your lips, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside you so easily. You don’t notice, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Sweat beading on his hairline, low groans coming from his throat as he watches your every move, the way your breasts bounce with every deep stride of your hips. He’s completely enthralled by you, your long nails clawing at his shoulders helplessly. You lean back down, your front pressed to his as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying uselessly to suppress the mewls that escape your mouth. You busy your lips by kissing along the sparse freckles on his sweat-slick skin.

“Oh, Steve,” you moan out. “Steve,” you repeat mindlessly, the word warbled by your breathlessness. There is a visceral reaction to your babbly moaning of his name, a shiver running through his body as he struggles to maintain a steady pace. 

Panting, he threads his fingers through the damp hair on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward to look at him, his eyes darting along your flush face. He brings you in for a kiss, your ability to reciprocate lasting only momentarily before you end up doing nothing more than gasping into his mouth. He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand falls back down to your hip, helping to guide your unstable pace. 

With a tight grasp on you, he starts to thrust upward to meet your movement, pushing himself deeper inside you. The room fills with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and he starts to do most of the work to make up for your ever decreasing control. His thrusts don’t last long before they become erratic, his hips moving desperately and clearly starting to chase release. You cry out, your hands moving quickly to dig into his shoulders again. 

“Fuck,” he grunts in response, knitting his eyebrows together, “That feel good?” You’re unsure if the question was rhetorical, the moans that rip from your throat more than enough evidence for him, but you answer anyways. 

“Yesyesyes,” you murmur, “S’good.” You’re almost whining, the coil in your tummy starting to tighten rapidly. You turn into a hot, trembling mess on top of him, letting lewd noises wrack through your body. 

“Holy shit,” he says with a strangled groan, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall against yours, his chest hair scraping between your breasts. “You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his tip brushing deliciously against your sweet spot. 

You plead his name, pleasure blooming under your sensitive skin and spreading to the rest of your body. He surges forward to capture the noise with his mouth, the kiss only lasting a second before he breaks from your lips and presses his forehead to yours. You tense and arch almost completely against him, your thighs aquiver as you start to unravel around him, barely keeping the ability to hold yourself up on your knees.

He watches you fall apart intently, eyes blown-out with admiration. They then shut with concentration after he’s successfully ridden out your high, his face contorting blissfully as his hips stutter, a weak warning leaving his lips. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He abruptly pulls out, only a few pumps of his hand necessary before he erupts onto his own stomach, painting his cock with shiny, white streaks that run down his length. There's a collective moment where you’re both trying to catch your breaths, struggling to find composure. Licking his lips, Steve brings his hand to brush away the baby hair that sticks to your forehead. Without realizing, he bats his eyelashes as he studies your face; your parted, puffy lips, the rosy tint to your flushed cheeks, the heave of your chest. Truthfully, you look a bit ruined. Not that he’s complaining. 

You turn over to lay flat beside him, your shoulders brushing, and stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re mildly terrified of what’s to come, how he’ll act after this. You wonder if you’ve just broken your whole dynamic by letting this happen. You trace the patterns of the small bumps on his popcorn ceiling with your eyes, and wonder whether or not he’ll treat you with the same sort of respect now that you’ve had sex with him. Going off of past experiences, you have reasonable doubt. 

You feel his eyes on you, and you turn your head to meet them. As if he’s read your mind, his lips curl slightly, reassuringly, and he slides an arm behind your head to wrap around your shoulder. You let him pull you to your side, leaning your head into his chest and resting your hand close by. His thumb draws slow circles on the tingling skin just below your shoulder, goosebumps rising in their wake. 

You catch a glance of the alarm clock across from his bed, the numbers 11:37 stare back at you in bright red. Admittedly, there’s no urgent reason for you to have to get home, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You mutter against his skin, not really making an attempt to move, “It’s almost midnight,” you say as more of an observation than an excuse, paying close attention to the reaction it garners.

In any situation with Eddie, this would’ve warranted a dismissive ‘why don’t you head out?’ or, on a good day, an ‘I'll drive you home.’ Amazingly, that’s not what you hear next. 

“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

This takes you a bit off guard, the softness in his voice. Nonetheless, you answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

❥ MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

[morganbritton132]

I’ve seen fics where Eddie sees Steve post-season 2, all sad and pathetic after his fall down the social ladder, and then Hellfire adopted him. They’re perfect. No notes. Ten of out ten. I will read every single one of them.

However.

It is very funny if Steve adopts the Hellfire Club as his new friend group. They have no choice in the matter.

The only good thing going on in his life right now is that Dustin has decided that he’s cool. Steve doesn’t want that to change so he’s going to have to learn a few things because he never knows what the hell Dustin is talking about.

So, “You guys know nerd shit, right?”

Hellfire blink at him.

“You do. Good,” Steve continues, pointing out the Starfleet ensigna on Grant’s jacket. He sits in Eddie’s seat like, “Have you heard of this board game called Demons and Dragons?”

They blink at him again and share looks with each other that say that this is a hell of a day for Eddie to be absent. Jeff is the only one brave enough to say, “It’s uh…it’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh,” Steve says, flipping his notebook open and writing that down. “Sweet. What else?”

Eddie comes back to school two days later still a little stuffy from his cold to find Steve “The Hair” Harrington in his seat, talking to his friends, making plans to watch Star Wars that weekend.

He’s just like, what the fuck.

[lee-da-vinci]

obsessed with the idea of eddie and erika having beef, solely due to steve. like maybe eddie has a habit of including steve-esque npcs in hellfire campaigns. erica while young is smart and it doesn’t take long for her to recognize the pattern of the npcs and she is not impressed ™. she doesn’t quite know what eddie is doing and why (it’s some unholy combination of loathing and infatuation most likely) but that’s HER, she actually doesn’t really know how to categorize him but Steve is hers and is one of the only people she listens to while minimal complaints (she might even respect him and robin a tiny bit, unlike dustin, she has long since realized exactly what Steve and Robin did for them in that base, if her parents were that grateful to the two dumbasses for “saving them from a fire” she can’t imagine what they’d do if they knew exactly how much steve has done for the family over the years). Regardless, no raggedy, hyper-active metal head while be fucking with steve on her watch and so starts erica repeatedly calling eddie out on any and everything and eddie, digging his feet in and refusing to give up his mechanism for coping with gay yearning, willingly enters a beef with a child.

[lilpomelito]

my favorite thing about Steve is that he’s actually a very confident guy, overconfident I would say sometimes, so in my head he has the shortest gay crisis ever like he realizes on a random Tuesday morning while slowly rotting on his costumer service job that his weird fixation with Eddie and how close he is with that punk dude from the Hideout is jealousy actually, so that means he has a crush on Eddie. Huh, that’s weird, has he had crushes on guys before? Maybe, his friendship with Tommy was intense and weirdly possessive actually, and their fight did feel like a breakup kind off and Tommy did behave like a bitter ex afterwards… also now that he thinks about it his obsession with the captain of the baseball team who was a senior when he was a junior was totally a crush in retrospective. And as he comes to this conclusion he also thinks damn what a waste, I could 100% have pulled him. So that same day he’s driving to Eddie’s place like “hi i’m taking you out” and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s about to be wine and dinned or murdered in the middle of the woods but he’s also a weak weak man for pretty boys so he just follows where Steve tells him to go. They have a lovely date at the dinner and then drive up to the quarry to see the sunset and then a very intense makeout sesh in the back of Steve’s car when Eddie remembers to ask him if he’s even into guys. Steve who already has his hands in Eddie’s pants looks him dead in the eye and says “yeah since this morning I think, but also since forever.” And Eddie who had to spend years slowly crawling his way out of Narnia to even admit to himself he was gay even less admitting it to others just blinks and accepts the fact that yeah, Steve Harrington has always had that vibe actually, and resumes kissing him.

[flipflopmasterr]

We love Steve

[mentalmeles]

"Let's go show em what a couple of kids from Brooklyn can do!"

I am very excited to finally have a teamup for Steve and Bucky, if you can't already tell. And it's called Stars Aligned?? They truly are star crossed lovers, fr fr

[mazeheart]

he simply nodded. " like i said , a very long time ago ... " steve awkwardly laughs as he scratches his neck. " you're not the first to forget my face , and i doubt you'll be the last , " he joked. obviously , it meant more to himself than it probably meant to her. at her question , he initially shrugged. " oh , uh ... i played basketball for a while , " he admitted. " guess i'm a sports fan. still , like to keep in shape every now and again. " shit , was he really this boring ? if robin was here , she'd be roasting him to char. " i'm open to a lot of things. if you have any favorite things to do , maybe ... "

◟ ⋆ ❛ “  did  we  ?  ”  she  ask  ,  brows  furrowing  .  she  studied  his  face  ,  but  she  couldn't  really  recall  meeting  him  at  any  specific  point  in  her  life  .  chrissy  felt  bad  ,  but  she  knew  she  couldn't  fully  blame  herself  .  after  all  ,  if  they  didn't  talk  ,  it  was  natural  for  certain  faces  to  leave  her  memories  .  “  uh  ,  well  .  .  .  ”  she  began  ,  voice  trailing  slightly  as  she  tried  to  come  up  with  suggestions  .  “  i  suppose  it  depends  on  what  you  like  doing  .  there's  something  here  for  everyone  .  do  you  have  any  favorite  activities  ?  ”

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, still on this live-stream: Did your students ask about me?

Steve, genuinely confused: No, why would they do that?

Eddie: Becau-

Eddie: Because I’m famous.

Steve: I don’t think your music is popular with kid. They like Taylor Swift.

Eddie, a little weak: But- but your students last year. They thought I was cool.

Steve: Well, yeah. ‘Course they do. You’re married to me!

Steve: These are new kids. They don’t even think I’m cool. But they will!

Steve: Think you’re cool. Not me. They just don’t know you yet.

Eddie:

Eddie: Take me to work with you

Steve: No, babe.

[fattummyt]

"Kinks Shirt"

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe | Captain America

Pairings: Steve Rogers | Captain America/Plus-Size Female Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None. (❁´◡`❁)

Tags: Humor, Naked Female Clothed Male, Large Breasts, Fat Reader, Sharing Clothes, Nipple Play, Play Fighting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Secrets, Humor, Steve Rogers is a Brat, Clothing Kink

Author's Notes: This title is loosely inspired by the song "Kinks Shirt" by Matt Nathanson.

Read it on AO3 here!

Summary: Steve loves you. If he didn't-- why else would he let you wear all his loose tank tops to bed? Surely he had no other motivations besides his burning love for you... and his boob fetish.

For the most part, Steve has remained fairly indifferent to your breasts, however, after an impromptu night out drinking with Tony and Pepper a few weeks back, you stayed the night at his place and ended up borrowing one of his shirts to sleep in. It was one of his old over sized US Army fatigues that he ended up cutting the sleeves and the neck out to work out in. Pretty pissed, he scolded you a bit for messing his well organized drawers during your drunkenness-- that was until he saw you with the shirt on, then promptly jacked off to the memory of you in the bathroom while you slept. After that, he slowly started modifying all of his over-sized t-shirts just in case you wanted to stay the night again.

It was just before bed as you two laid together. Steve sat against the headboard reading, tucked under his comforter like a 1950s sitcom husband and you laid on your side, phone resting just a few inches above your face, waiting to slip from your hands and meet its impending doom.

Steve looked up from his book for a moment, studying you as he shifted to a more reclined position. You seemed to be actively involved with whatever you were doing, probably playing some puzzle game or organizing the shopping list-- things you did every night before bed.

He leaned his head on his hand, thumbing back to his page before you rested your arm above your head revealing the wholeness of your side rolls and the top of your breasts, slightly jiggling as you adjusted your body into a more comfortable position.

You weren't aware of Steve's breast fetish-- you'd only been dating for 3 months, and in that time, you only managed to fuck around probably 5 times due to conflicts in your schedules.

For the most part, Steve has remained fairly indifferent to your breasts, however, after an impromptu night out drinking with Tony and Pepper a few weeks back, you stayed the night at his place and ended up borrowing one of his shirts to sleep in. It was one of his old over sized US Army fatigues that he ended up cutting the sleeves and the neck out to work out in.

Pretty pissed, he scolded you a bit for messing his well organized drawers during your drunkenness-- that was until he saw you with the shirt on, then promptly jacked off to the memory of you in the bathroom while you slept. After that, he slowly started modifying all of his over-sized t-shirts just in case you wanted to stay the night again.

"Why don't you just buy me some tank tops instead?" You asked one night. But Steve thinks you wearing his old clothes gives them purpose-- and that purpose is showing off your big tits.

"How can you call yourself a red blooded American if you didn't like tits?" Steve thought to himself. "Soft, luxurious mounds of all different shapes and sizes and a unique bud accenting each--" "What are you doing?" You asked, staring dead eyed into your phone, catching him off guard.

"Hm?-- Oh, just reading."

"You haven't flipped pages in a while."

He smiled. "I was pondering something. Does your generation still use that word? Pondering?"

You sighed, "No Steve, we burned all the books of old in 1951 and now we all just communicate telepathically." Steve chuckled, shutting his book.

"But since we're pointing out age differences, you're technically a cradle robber." "--Hey, I don't look a day over 35 and you know it. Now, no more toys. It's time to go to bed." He snatched the phone from your hands to which you promptly reached to grab it back.

"Hey! Give that back." He laughed, holding the phone to his chest before flipping onto his stomach. "Oh my god Steve at least lock it first." You reached underneath the heavy blanket in an attempt to retrieve it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, is there a padlock on it?" He laughed innocently. "Stop it, Steve you're not even that old!" "So you admit it." He bragged, proudly leaning his head on his wrist as he flipped onto his side to face you.

"My phone, Steve?" You laughed. He dug around behind him, before waving the device. "You mean this? Oh-- What's this? Your Google Chrome history?"

You gasped, you had no idea Steve even knew how the internet worked, let alone browser history.

Before you could grab for it he reached over and flipped the light off on the night stand beside him, casting the room in darkness.

"Oh my god-- Steve stop!" You crawled over him, eagerly grabbing for your phone but he was too quick, rolling onto his side and reading aloud from the screen. "BDSM Test Results? Hmmm, that sounds interesting. Maybe we should click on it?" You screamed, grabbing hold of the phone raised above his head, desperately trying to hold onto it as he sat up gaining more leverage on it.

"Alright, alright, I give." He chuckled, and just as he hit the lock button, the phone flew from both your hands, clattering to the floor nearby.

"It just slipped out-- I'm sorry." He sputtered, reaching over and flicking on the lamp. The light gleamed on to reveal you straddling his waist, bonnet askew, one heavy breast hanging out the side of your tank top, completely oblivious.

Sweet cheese and rice he loved that shirt.

"There it is." You hopped off the bed and quickly picked it up, inspecting the screen for damage. Had it not been for your absent mindedness, you might've noticed the redness creeping up Steve's cheeks as you climbed back into bed.

"Not even a super soldier can destroy this thing, huh?" You chuckled, setting your phone on the nightstand beside you before adjusting your breasts back into your shirt. He laughed nervously. "Yeah, I guess not."

You climbed under the comforter, lying on your side before Steve turned off the lamp, spooning in behind you, settling for wrapping an arm arm around your waist. Your stomach rose and fell as you breathed evenly, and his heart raced as his Adam's apple bobbed.

You shifted for a moment, turning over to kiss his forehead and whisper. "Good night, Steve." As you turned back, his hand slipped into your shirt and his fingertips felt electric as they grazed beneath, along your side. "Good night." He whispered, closing his eyes, eager to find some rest from the image of your breasts that wracked no pun intended his thoughts every night you spent together.

Steve felt like a creepy teenager trying to get to second base, but he couldn't help himself. Something about the way your tits looked in his shirts made him wonder if he had some sort of obsession or fetish. "But, by that logic, we should all have a boob fetish then, right?"

Suddenly you inhaled sharply, snapping him from his sordid thoughts. "What's wrong?" He whispered. "You're pitching a tent against my ass right now, Steve." He blinked, totally misinterpreting you before he realized and pulled a pillow from behind his head to stuff between you two. You laughed, now fully awake as he stewed in his embarrassment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh." You chuckled. "It's fine. Happens to the best of us." There was an unusual silence between you two before you suggested. "We could do something about it..." "Just go to sleep. I'll take care of it." He whispered, promptly kicking off the weighty comforter. He didn't realized how hot and bothered he'd gotten under there until he reached down to knead his cock and found himself already semi hard.

"Are you sure you don't want me to...?" He sat up in thought for a moment before ultimately giving in and nudging closer to you, grabbing your hand and guiding it beneath his waistband to his cock. As you began stroking, he kissed across your shoulder.

"Just like that." He sighed, his hand grazed down your arm before he slid into your shirt to begin caressing at your breasts. You let out a quiet gasp, his palms ghosting your pliant nipples as he grinded into your loose grip, eyes straining to make out your form in the dark. Steve began kneading your breasts as you hastened your strokes, your body felt ultra sensitive as he teased at your front with increasing vigor.

"You like playing with my tits?" You cooed to which he exhaled something like a mix between a growl and a "Mhm." His gentle fondling soon escalated to good grips and rough kneading. You whined quietly, your free hand rubbing between your legs to quell the growing tension. "F-Steve, fuck me, please?" He kissed your neck, pulling down your panties and raising your leg into the air so he could spread your lips and slide inside you.

He thrust erratically, pulling you smacking into his hips, gripping your shirt so tight you could hear the fabric ripping down the side. Steve panted through his teeth, his breath hot against your neck as he grunted through every stroke. You trembled, rubbing your clit as Steve fucked in and out of you. You both held your breath-- fervent smacking of flesh filling the room before you grabbed the nearest pillow, screaming into it as you came.

Steve pulled out, cursing as he straddled your waist, scrambling with your shirt before ripping it in its entirety so he could paw at your chest while he finished. "Shit-- I'm gonna cum-- I'm gonna cum on your tits." He moaned, hips thrusting into his fist as cum dribbled out of his tip to your breasts and down your stomach. "GOD-- bless." He panted, quick to correct himself.

You giggled as he collapsed onto his side, rolling over to flick on the lamp. You laid on your back, shirt ripped entirely up its left side, your breasts decorated with gleams of semen.

"You've never said ‘tits’ a day in your life have you?"

He sighed into a chuckle. "Nope." And you both joined in laughter.

"Do you need a towel?"

"Nah, I'll just use this old t-shirt."

You came downstairs to find Steve sitting at the kitchen table, his shirt and hair wet with sweat from his morning run.

"Good morning." He tipped his glass of chocolate milk before taking a long sip, sliding an empty glass and the carton across the table toward you. "Why didn't you tell me you had a boob fetish?" He sputtered, coughing up milk he'd inhaled before clutching his chest defensively. "Wh-- I-- it's not that serious-- I mean, they're great. But if-- from my perspective, if everyone you know likes boobs, could you really call what I have a fetish?"

You scoot your chair in against the table, humming sing-songy as you parted your robe to reveal the tops of your breasts, sporting dark bruises. "This looks sorta like a fetish to me, don't you think?" He swallowed hard, looking away for fear you'd see his blush crawl down his neck. "That's what I thought." You chimed.

You leaned over the table, reaching for the carton, your breasts drooping, threatening to slip from your robe in an almost tantalizing way. He bit his lip, glancing between your breasts and his glass, nerves tickling his stomach as his cool, damp shirt clung to the arch of his back.

"Maybe you should call out of work today."

"Yeah?" You met his fiery gaze and smirked, milk slowly filling your glass.

He grabbed the carton from your grasp, gently setting it on the table beside him.

"Yeah."

Read the fic on AO3! | Read more of my fics on Tumblr | Patreon

[mazeheart]

" yeah , well , i'm very happy to not be dealing with literal monsters right now , " steve exhaled an almost painful laugh. did he miss hawkins ? absolutely , but he didn't miss the chaos of the past couple of years. as much as he wanted to get back home , he wasn't against savoring the moment. " i don't know , " he shrugged. " have some fun ? live like normal for a little bit while crazy psychos aren't at our backs ?? "

"maybe not a literal monster, steve, but there's definitely something going on here." nancy said, pushing her hair behind her ears and fidgeting in her seat as she thought about everything. she didn't know what to do. she wanted to believe steve. but it was hard. she loved home in some weird ways, and this place was hard to adjust to. "and what do you suggest we do?" she asked.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Currently thinking about Alpha Eddie having a sweet smell instead of a typical musky “Alpha” spell. Like that boy smells like a bowl of stale m&m’s and Steve is obsessed. Steve is constantly buried in his neck, scenting him every chance he gets. He’s constantly behind Eddie, arms wrapped around his middle and just sniffing. It gets to the point where Steve gets migraines if he goes too long without scenting Eddie. He’s a pathetic little omega, but not as pathetic as his Alpha who purposely wears his sweaters because he knows that if he wears them long enough his scent will be there for a long time. So not only can Steve where his sweaters, the only ones that feel right against his skin, but he can also go around smelling his alpha constantly. (Then when they have their own pups, their pups smell just as sweet and it’s very common to see Steve smelling their newborn babies head)

[age-of-moonknight]

“Systemic Approach (Part Two),” Avengers Unlimited (Vol. 1/2022), Infinity Comic, #64.

Writer: Mat Groom; Penciler and Inker: Caio Majado; Colorist: Pete Pantazis; Letterer: Joe Sabino

[dark-authorr]

𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗬𝗣𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗘

pairing: dark!steve harrington x dark!eddie munson x dark!billy hargrove x drunk!reader

request: could you write about Eddie, Steve and Billy having a three some with reader after she gets the jealous? cnc if you’re comfortable - @luckygalaxysuit

warnings: heavy drinking, kiss, trapped, unwanted neck kisses, hair pulling, “kidnapping”, forced oral (male receives), gagging, choking, crying, forced double penetration, ass slapping, forced group sex, etc.

note: send in a bunch of requests for any character of any movie, series, and we will do our best to write about them. ONLY DARK!

like, comment, reblog, and follow us!

———

“You likin’ the party new girl?” Jason asked y/n after walking into his kitchen. “Yes, actually,” Y/n smiled as she poured her drink. “Maybe you should come to them more often,” he smiled back at her as he came up to get his drink.

“Maybe I should,” she couldn’t stop herself from showing teeth. Jason has always been sweet to her. She was surprised when the man invited her, and now he wants to invite her to future parties.

Throughout the night, y/n drank and laughed with Jason. He even took her to the dance floor to dance. She wouldn’t say she loved Jason, but she did love his attention.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/n said, turning to leave until he pulled her back. “Where are you going? The party is just getting started,” Jason smiled down at y/n, making her giggle. She felt like this could all be a dream.

“Just going to use the restroom,” Y/n said with a smile. “Get back soon, babe,” the jock said before placing a soft and slow peck on her lips. Once he pulled away and continued dancing with his group of friends.

Y/n wanted to ask him what that was about, but she decided to stay quiet and take it with her as people watched her walk away.

“How’s your night goin?” Y/n heard a voice as soon as she walked out of the bathroom. Y/n looked to see who it was and saw Steve, her long-time on-and-off friend. Well — Study buddy because his grades were never good.

“Oh, hey, Steve! My nights going well so far, and yours?” She asked as he kicked off the wall he was leaning against. “I bet it is. Didn’t know you and Jason were dating,” Steve couldn’t help but mention.

He and the other two had been watching her all night, each second getting harder to witness as she got closer to Jason by the minute.

“Me and Jason? Oh, no, no, we’re just friends,” y/n said as her heart raised a bit. “Didn’t seem that way, princess,” Steve said, flirting as he always does, but y/n had told him he should stop if nothing was going to happen between the two.

Steve was known for going around and being with any girl he wanted, and she didn’t want to be one of those who were marked by Steve Harrington.

“I swear, we’re just friends, I-I don’t know why he kissed me. Maybe he’s just a little drunk, you know?” Y/n said as Steve got closer, body now pressing her into the bathroom door she had closed.

“Sure you aren’t, babe? Seem a bit out of it, don’t you think?” Steve asked, making her feel a small pain in her chest. The way he talked to her with his tone made her feel uncomfortable.

“So what? I can’t drink?” Y/n asked, getting a bit defensive. “Not when you’re a pretty little thing alone,” one of Steve’s hands gripped y/n’s waist to pull her closer to him.

“What are you talking about- Hey, stop that!” Y/n shouted at Steve who began kissing at her neck. “Harrington, stop!” Y/n tried to sound more serious, but that only made him laugh.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Steve grabbed a hand full of y/n’s hair before pulling her to a room. “The boys can come find me. I’ve got some shit to set straight,” Steve said as he threw y/n into the room and locked the door.

“Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you? Like serious, are you-“ Y/n stood up and yelled at the man but was cut off by him forcing her back down to her knees.

“You know what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong is that you rejected me, but got your legs all open for Jason. A jock!” Steve was pissed, and she was soon going to find out how pissed he was.

“I’m sorry, but you and Jason are two different-“ y/n tried speaking but he yelled at her, telling her to shut up before he got angry. “There’s no excuse for it, y/n. Not one, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ apologies to me,”

Y/n hoped Steve would calm down, but she noticed there was no hope for that when he reached into his pants, pulling his cock out in seconds.

“Steve, no!” Y/n slapped at the legs and stomach, but that didn’t phase him. “Stop movin, y/n,” Steve times came off warning, but she continued to fight.

Sadly, she wasn’t a match for Steve. The man forced his cock down her throat instantly, causing her to gag and cry onto his shaft.

“So damn pretty when you’re like this. If only you weren’t giving me a hard time,” Steve said through his teeth as he snapped his hips, fucking her face so hard, she could barely focus on his face.

“Always prayed for you to go down ok me during study time, but you were so fucking clueless. I even stripped and stayed in my boxers. I was fuckin’ hard, but all you thought was that I was trying to get comfortable. Dumb fucking slut,”

Y/n felt bad for the way she led Steve on, but she could’ve sworn he didn’t even want her.

“Then you got me watching Jason down your throat? Are you fucking serious!?” Steve’s free hand grabbed the side of her head so he could use both of his hands to pull her into his hard thrusts.

“Steve, where the fuck are you!?” Billy yelled in the hallway. “Harrington, I think she’s gone, man. C’mon, we gotta leave to find her,” Eddie said, knocking on every door.

The two had thought he might’ve taken another girl to a room after seeing y/n with Jason, but in actuality, that other girl was y/n.

“In here!” Steve shouted, telling them to come and see this view. “And you won’t believe you I’ve got with me,” Steve said as he kept his cock deep in y/n’s mouth.

“God, don’t tell me it’s Nancy. We don’t fucking care,” Billy said, always annoyed as they stood in front of the door, not wanting to meet eyes with some girl they didn’t care for.

“Want me to give you a hint?” Steve asked before he pulled y/n off of his cock. “Steve, please stop this. Please-“ y/n tried speaking quickly before he pushed back into her mouth. The gag noises sent Billy and Eddie to kick open the door.

“No way!” Billy said as Eddie got up front to the ground he fell on. “Are you serious? Before me!?” Eddie said as he closed the door behind him and tried to lock it, but the lock was broken.

“Nor how I’d like it, but it’ll do,” Steve said, making the boys lift their eyebrows u til they realized her makeup streaming down her face.

“Dude-“ Eddie cut himself off, wanting to confront him, but why would he? Y/n looked the best she’s ever had. Having Steve in her mouth as she cried, made him feel a type of way.

Billy on the other hand couldn’t care at all. All he wanted was a bite of her.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’m close,” Steve assured y/n who prayed this was a dream, but if it was, her throat wouldn’t be hurting so much. This was a live nightmare.

“Let’s get this shit off,” Billy dropped to his knees behind the girl before he ripped her dress apart. The man was strong, and that fabric never stood a chance against him.

“Tits looks a-fucking-mazing,” Eddie said as he got himself undressed, every concern being thrown out of the window. She looked too damn good to pass on.

“Mhm, they sure in the hell are,” Steve said as his thrusts stuttered a bit. “Oh shit,” Eddie laughed as Steve’s eyes shut tight. Y/n pushed at the man’s lower stomach, hoping to get away, but she instantly stopped as she held his liquid shoot down her throat.

Steve pushed y/n off of him after he couldn’t give anymore. She was instantly grabbed by Billy and carried to the nearest bed. After she was thrown down, she felt hands all over her. More than two.

“Stop it!” Y/n tried pushing Eddie and Billy away from her, but they listened or reacted. All they did was put themselves in a position they’d feel most comfortable in.

Y/n was now on top of the two, legs spread on both sides of Billy as Eddie stood behind her. “Don’t get drunk again, princess. Shit like this might not happen to you, then,” Eddie said as he gripped her panties off.

“Please, guys, stop this. I-I don’t- I don’t want this,” she begged the two. Billy rubbed his spot on his cock as she spoke, not caring about anything she had to say. She understood that after he forced himself through her cunt without wanting.

Y/n cried out in pain and pleasure. The knot in her stomach had already built in the lower part of her stomach.

“You’re tight for a nappy bitch,” Billy snapped his hips up as Eddie tried his best to coat his cock with as much cum as he could. He knew this wouldn’t be pretty for her, but he’s always wanted to eat or fuck her ass, and tonight, it was right in front of him. She was begging for it.

“Maybe I should’ve fucked her to hear that voice,” Steve said as he walked over to the bed. Y/n looked away from the man, wanting nothing to do with him, and he knew that. That’s why he rubbed the top of her head.

“Maybe if you weren’t so clueless, we could’ve done this a different way, y/n. If you think about it, this is all fault,” y/n hadn’t noticed how shitty Steve really was until tonight.

“Really getting it all out, huh?” Eddie said as he rubbed some spit along her upper hole. “Yeah — There’s no other way to put this situation,” Steve said, making new tears fill y/n’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, baby — Once I get in you, you’ll forget about his rude little words,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s hole, making her pucker instantly. “N-No,” she said low, hoping he wasn’t doing what she was thinking.

“Ah huh, now relax so I can come in,” Eddie said, hand spreading her ass cheek as the other held his cock in place. “Eddie, no!” Y/n tried moving away, but the more she moved, the more Billy’s thrust under her made her closer to cumming, and she didn’t want to.

“Stop fuckin’ moving, y/n. Fuck,” Eddie grew impatient. Y/n went to cuss at the man or yell but she was cut off by a cry. Her head fell forward as Eddie broke through her upper walls.

“There we go,” Eddie continued pushing into the tightest hole he could fuck. “That’s it, just relax, baby. Relax, and I’ll fill you up in no time,” y/n cried at his words, knowing if they weren’t scared to do this to her, they weren’t scared to fill her.

“P-Please,” was all y/n could let out as her body went slack on top of Billy. “Good girls gonna get filled tonight, that right. Maybe more than once if she keeps squeezing me like this,” Billy said, and before she knew it, she released all over the man.

“Fuck, y/n, look at you!” Steve laughed as Eddie’s hand came down on her ass. “Double penetration is your thing, huh?” Eddie asked, earning a weak head shake and whine from her.

“Oh? Pretty girl hasn’t done any of this yet, huh? Guess we’re her first,” Eddie said as he watched his cock slip in and out of her hole that kept sucking him right back in. “And last,” Billy assured.

[mazeheart]

steve hummed as he listened to her try to explain what was happening. " after something , " steve repeated with a smirk. " like a big promotion ? " he quizzed. " or after someone ? " he continued to watch nancy for a moment longer. he was just happy she was distracted with something other than their current displacement. that's all he wanted ; moments like this. nonsensical moments where they weren't worrying why they were here or the next thing that could go wrong. with a nod of his head , his tongue peaked out as he thought. it disappeared as quick as it appeared. " i bet this movie ends with her miraculously getting the guy and the job , " he mused. did they even pick a rom - com ? he wasn't sure. they seemingly picked at random. he just knew there were no flashy special effects , at least. therefore , it must be a chick flick , right ?? as she smiled , steve couldn't help but mirror her. how he missed that smile of hers. one that wasn't forced , one to make anyone else feel better. a genuine one. " oh , you like my company ?? that's news to me. well , you aren't so bad yourself. "

nancy wondered if steve was creating distance between them. she wondered what was happening in his head, and wished she had some sort of power to understand that, but she also had no idea whatsoever. she rolled her eyes at the question and turned her attention to the screen briefly, "obviously the girl is going after something and not going a good enough job?" she shrugged her shoulders. she hadn't really been paying much attention, because she was just wanting to listen to something in the background to distract her from everything she was thinking of. she nodded her head when he repeated her and she let herself smile at the following statement. "exactly. with everything going on, everything we've been through. we just need something to help us relax. the background noise is at least helping. so is the company, too."