#Steve Harrington fan fic

[astermath]

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

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

word count: 4.8K (oops)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?” 

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

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

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

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

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

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

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

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

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

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

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

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

Yeah, you were growing fond of him. 

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

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

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

And he was well aware of this too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lesservillain]

alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse dynamics, knotting, bonding/marking, breeding kink, unprotected piv, semi public, mutual pining

wc:~5.7k

Music plays at a low hum from the small radio at your desk. The only station that comes in clear has been taken over by Christmas music since Thanksgiving break. Not even Wham!’’s Last Christmas was giving the same sense of relief after hearing it every day for almost a month now. 

Despite the winter wonderland outside, you still seek out the coolness of your water bottle against your skin, the chill helping to ease the flush that’s been making you sweat like it was mid July in Texas. You’d even cracked the window behind your desk in hopes that the fallen snow would help with your elevated body temperature. But you knew that all of your efforts were for nothing. That no matter how cold you made it, there was really only one thing that would actually be able to ease the discomfort that you felt spreading under your skin; the burden of being an omega in this world. 

Ever since you split with your ex this past spring you’ve been having to deal with your heats on your own. It's not impossible for an omega to go through heats without an alpha to ease the pain, but when you go cold turkey after years of having someone there to satisfy the overwhelming biological need to mate, it can take a huge toll on any omega. 

Science has made leaps and bounds over the last 20 years to improve suppressants for both alphas and omegas. They’re not perfect by any means, but they’re better than dealing with the intense urges that you feel when that time of the month comes. 

The current suppressants you're taking are…experimental. Mixed with a birth control that’s supposed to be able to stop even the swimmers of an alpha in rut from reaching an egg of an omega they’ve marked. They were suggested by your doctor as a preventative, since omegas after losing their long alpha tend to subconsciously scent to seek out a replacement. 

And they worked really well the first few months, not having a heat for nearly half a year. But the added stress of moving to a new town on your own and starting a new job where you were constantly playing catch up after inheriting a mess from the school’s previous nurse, your heat came back full swing within the first month of the school year. The dizziness, increased appetite, a dull ache in your lower back, and hot flashes put you out for three days before you could get a suppressant strong enough to make you functional again. 

Now you’re having your winter heat, which, so far, has been much tamer by comparison thanks to the increased dose of your medication. But the combination of your heat with the influx of students seeing you due to peak flu and strep season, your body has been practically screaming at you by the end of each day this week to go home and relax. 

The sudden overzealous opening of your office door takes your attention off your sweltering body. The all too familiar voice of Mr. Harrington calls out “Helloooo, nurse!” as he occupies the space in the doorway. 

Steve Harrington was one of the school’s sophomore history teachers, as well as the football and basketball coach and the leader of the Student Achievement program. All of the staff, and probably some of the students, swoon over him at any given moment, his presence never missed due to the air that surrounds him. Unfortunately you’re not immune to his charms either. In fact, the natural attraction between the two of you was palpable at times, regardless of how much you try to ignore it. 

Steve could feel it, too. And maybe it was the way his alpha brain was wired, but his flirty personality is jacked up to 10 whenever you’re around. It’s not on purpose, at least not in a conscious way. His amazing hair, the way his clothes hugged his toned body, and his almost unnaturally handsome face made him the poster child for the perfect alpha partner. 

Well, perfect except for the fact that he’s the clumsiest man you’ve ever met in your life, leaving your office at least once a week with a Strawberry Shortcake bandaid after giving himself a paper cut or an ice pack on his head when a ball hits him in the face. 

Despite his accident-prone nature, Steve is a highly desired, single alpha in his prime. And with you being the only unclaimed adult omega in the building, it’s put a huge target on your back for your jealous coworkers who think they have a shot with him. To remedy this, you’ve maintained a firm level of professionalism and platonic friendliness at all times with him, despite his flirty personality testing your willpower.

His intoxicating scent invades your senses sending  a wave of warmth to wash over you before you can even give him a quick glance. You pull at the collar of your blouse willing the air to cool down your shirt. “You feeling okay there, nurse? You look a little flushed. Or are you just that happy to see me?”

“Mr.Harrington,” you say flatly, following with teasing sarcasm as you continue looking over your paperwork, “I was starting to worry you weren’t going to see me this week. Thought you’d finally broken your streak of bad luck.” He lets out an airy chuckle that makes the sides of your lips threaten to curl.

“Oh, honey, you know I can’t stay away from you.” He means it. He would fake appendicitis if it gave him a greater chance to be doted on by you. To get closer to you. “I would have been in here sooner if I hadn’t been glued to my desk all week getting grades in before break,” he says, voicing his grievances that were the result of his own negligence. 

“I see,” you hum, continuing with the sarcastic tone. “I guess I won’t have to replenish my box of bandaids just yet.”

“Weelll,” he draws out, “All that sitting time must have built up my bad luck, because, uh, I think this one may need more than just a bandaid.”

When you finally lift your eyes from your desk, they almost bulge out of their sockets at the sight of him. Where you initially thought his arms were just crossed, you see his right hand is actually covering his left bicep, blood staining down the sleeve of his light and navy blue striped dress shirt. The lack of urgency in his tone had you thinking nothing was wrong, but of course Steve Harrington would find the time to flirt with you while he’s bleeding. 

Tossing your water bottle on the desk and jumping up from your seat, you practically fly across the room to assess the damage, pulling his hand away to find a tear in the sleeve and blood spread messily on his skin underneath.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” You ask with concern, pulling him into the office by the hand and leading him to a cot, shutting the door behind you. 

“Mrs.Harmon asked if I could stay and help set up stuff around the auditorium for the choir performance tonight,” he explained as you pulled at the material of his sleeve, trying and failing and get a better look at the wound, “and I accidentally knocked a shelf off the wall while trying to get the decorations out. I moved fast enough that it didn’t crush me, but it did knick me a little.”

“A little! Mr.Harrington—” you start with a stern tone, preparing your normal lecture to him about being safe. 

“Steve,” he corrects with a smug grin, insisting that you call him by his first name since you’ve met. 

“Mr.Harrington,” you repeat like a warning, trying to remain professional when he’s so close to you. It’s hard when he’s staring at your face with those big hazel eyes as he watches your face scrunch in frustration while you fiddle with his shirt. A shirt that’s straining to stay together around his large bicep, leaving no give for you to get a better look at his wound. 

Losing your will to argue with him, your hands rest to your hips with a sigh. “Can you, just, slip your arm out of the sleeve, please?”

“Of course,” he says with faux seriousness as you can see his all too satisfied smile, rolling your eyes at him.

Turning on your heel, you walk a few feet to grab the things from the supply cabinet to treat his wound. Your back is turned to him as you fill your arms with gauze, tape, cotton balls, and anything else you may need for a cut that large.

 “You know, you’re probably the clumsiest alpha I’ve ever met,” you tease as you turn to face him again, “Sometimes I think you get hurt on purpose just to see m—“

The rest of your remark dies on your tongue as your mouth goes dry. Taking liberties with your request, you watch Mr.Harrington completely remove his shirt, dropping it on the cot behind him and facing you once more. The white under tank he’s wearing leaves little to the imagination as it hugs his broad chest tightly, thinning the material and making it almost see through. His skin still has the last lingering tint of the tan he was sporting on the first day of school, and different sized freckles and moles decorate his body like constellations in the sky. You’ve never seen so much of him all at once, head feeling fuzzy as you drink him in. 

“I think you might be drooling a bit there, Ms. Nurse,” he says pointing to the corner of his own mouth to further his teasing. But you can barely hear him, the words muffled as your ears start to ring and your vision tilts as if you’d been drinking. The boil you’d been dealing with all day felt like a slight shimmer as your fever suddenly spikes, your body on fire as the scent coming from his newly exposed skin has you reeling.

The supplies you’re holding dropped to the floor, freeing your hands to grasp at the counter behind you. Steve rushes to your side, wrapping an arm around you and easing you to the ground. He barely makes it without dropping to his knees himself, the smell of your pheromones hitting him like a brick. 

“H-hey, what do you need,” you hear him ask, but you can hardly register the words as his scent in close proximity only spurs your heat on more. Even with your clothes covering your skin, the touch of his hand on your waist and the one he’s rested on your knee make you crave more of him in a carnal way, the urgent need to close the gap between the two of you has your body shifting until you’re on your knees and crawling towards him. 

His hands hover in the air, slightly trembling as you lean into him. He falls back on his ass as you get closer until you’re practically laying on him, rubbing against him with your face like a cat. “I need you, Steve,” you purr. He takes a sharp breath in through gritted teeth as your hand drifts lower, lower, until your fingers land on the very prominent bulge straining against his deep blue slacks. “Shit,” his head snaps back at the contact, before dropping back down to look at you with hungry eyes.

“What happened to keeping it professional?” He tries to joke, unsure if this is all just a test from the universe to see how he would react to having his nightly fantasies come true. And while Steve may be resilient in many ways, he wasn’t sure if he could hold back with the way you’re looking up at him through your lashes as if he’d hung the moon and the stars. The scent of his musk permeates the room as he gives into your needs, his desires, letting the primal urges he’s been pushing down since the day he met you front in his mind. 

If you were in a different state of mind you probably would have laughed at his comment. But the intense ache that bloomed between your legs as all your senses start to leave your body has you whimpering against his chest. 

Strong arms scoop you up swiftly, tossing you down on the cot and pulling the privacy curtain behind him. In the split second he was away from you, you managed to grab his discarded shirt and pull it to your nose, inhaling his lingering scent. It was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, your thighs rubbing together and hips moving against air as your body seeks out any kind of relief for the ache. 

Suddenly, the shirt is torn from your grasp roughly. You cry out, hands reaching out aimlessly before they’re being grasped tightly around the wrists and pinned to the bed. The cot dips as a weight wedges its way between your legs, pressing against your core in a way that has you instantly bucking against it with reckless abandon, your clouded mind only thinking about satisfying the throb in your core. 

“God, look at the mess you’re making on my thigh already,” Steve says with a low growl, watching you use him in a pathetic attempt to relieve yourself. The grit in his voice hits every nerve in your body on its way from your ear drums to your cunt. 

“You smell so fucking sweet,” he groans as he brings your wrist to his nose and inhales, “Like vanilla or honey, o-or something better,” he stammers. He leans over you, hot tongue licking a thick stripe from your collar bone to behind your ear, lightly biting the lobe and pulling, goosebumps rising on your skin. His hair is just as soft as you imagined it would be as it tickles your cheek, a sharp contrast to the way his teeth bite at your neck, his tongue soothing over the skin. 

You press your cheek into him, whining his name right into his ear, practically begging him to put you out of your misery. He releases one of your hands to grab your face, lips pursing together, making you look him in the eyes. His pupils fully blown out and close enough that you can see your own fucked out reflection in them.

“Listen to me,” he says, swallowing, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this for five fucking months. Five long months of fucking my fist to the thought of getting you under me just like this, making you a mess and having you beg for me.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as the last bit of his resolve begins to waver. “So if we do this, you’re mine from now on, got it? No more of this back and forth, pretending you don’t want me as much as I want you bullshit. Once I start…I’m not going to be able to stop. Do you understand?”

There’s no hesitation with how quickly you try to nod your head against his grip. The heat coming off of your cheeks warms the tips of his fingers. “Nuh-uh,” he tuts, giving you a little shake, “Need to hear it. Tell me you want this.” 

“Want you, Steve. Need you. Need your cock, please, please please.”

 He curses under his breath before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is hot and heavy right off the bat as teeth clash and tongues dance together in desperation. Your free hand finds its way into his perfect hair, pulling slightly at the nape, eliciting a moan from him that you catch as it leaves his lips.

Steve pulls away from you with a wild look in his eyes. Both of his strong hands release their hold on you so that he could rip open the front of your blouse, sending buttons flying and hitting the floor with a clatter. His mouth is back on you, nipping and biting the skin while his hands pull your tits free from the cups of your bra. 

Mouth moving at lightning speed, he hungrily takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and tonguing the bud while needing at your other breast with his hand. His eyes are glassy when they look up at you, half lidded and unfocused, drool dribbles down your breast from his mouth. 

Everything next happens so quickly you can barely register it. Steve pulls away from you completely, standing up fully to rip your pants down your legs. Once he throws them to the floor, he’s making quick movements to undo his own pants, his right thigh drenched from the slick that had soaked through while grinding against him. 

His cock is so hard that the pressure against the crotch of his pants has the zipper undoing itself once he frees the button. Wasting no time, he shucks down his slacks and boxers in one go, his large cock and heavy balls now on full display for you, the sight making your eyes widen in surprise—and maybe fear?

Alphas are known to be bigger than even a well endowed beta, and omegas are built to handle the size of an alpha’s better than a beta can, but the size of the Steve’s cock less than a foot from your face has you mesmerized at the sheer size of it. But while your mind may be in shock, your pussy has a mind of its own, slick dripping in anticipation for the stretch you’d be receiving. Even in his large hands it looked massive, bigger than any alpha you’d been with before. 

You sit up in the bed slightly, reaching out to take him in your hand, your fingers barely able to wrap around him as you stroke the angry red tip. He curses under his breath as you let your hand roll over the tip, feeling the veins against the skin of your palm with each stroke.

 A little bead of precum bubbles at the tip and something in your mind snaps. Your mouth is on him in an instant, any sense you may have had left is completely gone out the window when that salty taste hits your tongue. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he cooes, followed by a guttural moan at the sight of you trying to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. “Such a good girl. Trying your best to take me in that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?” His words egg you as you continue to suckle at his tip, lapping up any of his spend that leaks out as you keep pumping at his shaft.

You want to keep going, want to be good for him, but ache between your legs is becoming unbearable the longer you go on. Slick is slipping down your thighs, a puddling forming under you on the sheets as your body involuntarily preps itself to take Steve’s massive cock. You look up at him with teary eyes, lifting your ass in the air as a silent plea for him to take you like the bitch in heat that you are. 

And as much as he’s loving watching you pitifully mouth his cock, seeing you present yourself for him turns off the evolved parts of his brain, leaving him to run on primal instincts only. 

Grabbing you by the throat, he manhandles you onto your back and positions you so your ass on the edge of the cot. Your legs fall to the sides, opening as wide as you can get them, pussy on full display and ready to be taken. 

“Hoooooo, fuck,” Steve shudders, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt, hole clenching around nothing, begging for him to fill it up. He runs his fingers through your folds to collect some of your arousal, barely brushing over your throbbing clit. He brings his fingers to his mouth, shoulders slumping in satisfaction.

“Damnit, of course you taste sweet, too. Can’t wait til I can get you in my mouth,” he says with a slight slur. 

You panic for a moment, unsure if you could wait any longer for him to finally be inside you. As if he can read you like a book, he lets out a soft chuckle, taking his cock in his hand and pumping it slowly. “Don’t you worry, baby girl, I’m not gonna keep you waiting any more. Next time, though…”

The sticky tip of his cock taps your clit, sending shock waves throughout your body with every touch. It’s too much and not enough all at once. His name falls from your lips, and he shushes you in return, lining himself up with your entrance.

The breach of his tip stretching you wide is like a shot of morphine in an IV drip, your body becoming numb and a live wire at the same time, replacing the pain with a fuzzy haze all over. 

Steve watches the way your face contorts with pleasure as hips rock back and forth slowly. His teeth bite down on his bottom lip, trying his hardest to hold back so you can get used to his size, but the vice grip you have on his cock has him quickly losing his resolve. Body falling over you, he brackets your head between his forearms as he finally folds. His breath fanning over your face has your eyes fluttering open. Met with the most divine visual of Steve’s pinched brow, scrunched up nose, and slack jaw fill your vision entirely. Your breath is punched from your lungs as he makes that final thrust, bottoming out inside of you with a shuddered whimper. 

“Oh, my god,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, rubbing his face against your skin, marking you with his scent. He begins to move, setting a pace that makes every thrust feel like heaven, the tightness of your walls amplifying every ridge and bump of his cock as it drags back and forth. “Fuck, Steve, you’re so big,” you whine, “Never felt so full be-fore!” The last syllable comes out as a gasp as he thrusts into you hard, spurred on by your words. 

His arms wrap around you tightly, laying all of his upper body weight against you to pin you in place so he can fuck into mercilessly. The feeling is mind melting, nonsense words mixed with repeating his name over and over fall from your mouth with each punch of his cock against your cervix. Each thrust hits that spot inside of you dead on, throttling you towards the edge quicker than your mind can handle in your current fucked out state. 

“Fuuuuck,” Steve’s voice is strained next to your ear, thrusts slowing as you “Don’t squeeze so tight, baby, I don’t wanna cum yet.” 

His words have the opposite effect on you as your whole body trembles beneath him, cumming so hard his cock your vision goes white. Your chest presses into his as your back arches off the mattress, the skin to skin friction against your hardened nipples stimulating you more as he fucks you through your high.

He lifts his head to watch you come undone with a wide eyed, feral look. He’s panting, too, with a string of saliva from his tongue to the skin of your shoulder where he had latched on, the skin red and already speckling with broken blood vessels. 

 “You’re so pretty when you cum on my cock like that,” he says with heavy breaths, “Wanna see you do it again, and again, and again,” he babbles, leaning in to trail kisses along your jaw, continuing to thrust into you harder and harder, in his own world now. You can only cling to him as he ruts into you, nails scratching down his back. “Gonna fuck you over and over and over until it takes. Big, round belly on full display for everyone to see. You gonna tell everyone Mr.Harrington got you pregnant when you can’t hide it anymore? What will all the other teachers think?” 

“Fuck, Steve, please.” 

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“Want it, Steve. Want your knot.”

“Oh, is that right?”

Suddenly, he pulls away and out of you completely. It’s such a shock to the system you can help but cry out at the loss of him. But the vacancy doesn’t last long, his strong arms lifting and flipping you with ease until you’re face down into the mattress, ass being propped up on shaky legs so he can bottom out in you once more. 

This new angle changed everything. A wanton moan feels like it was being pushed out of you as it felt like his cock was in your lungs. One hand grabs a hold of your hip while the other pushes down on the back of your neck, effectively pinning you down so he can pick back up his brutal pace. There was no rhythm to his thrusts, driven purely on animalistic instincts as he chases his own pleasure, using you as a means to get him there.

“You want my knot, huh?” The question is rhetorical, said in the heat of the moment as he feels his peak nearing. “Want me to give you my knot and really knock you up? I’ll ruin you for any other alphas that think they have a chance. Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, sweet girl? No other alpha’s gonnna fuck you like I can, right?” 

“No-no, Steve! Don’t want anyone else! Only want your knot! Please, please!” Your eyes lull as he fucks you stupid, mouth parted open as you drool onto the sheets. 

His weight shifts, trailing kisses down your back until he gets to that spot on the back of your neck. A chill runs down your spine as his teeth scrape against the skin over your scent gland. “Well, if that’s the case…Guess you wouldn’t mind if I held you to that, right?” 

The primal part of your brain is screaming for him to do it; mark you and make you his, permanently. The logical side fights for dominance, reminding you that you never wanted to be owned by an alpha, which is why you and your ex broke up in the first place. But the way he was making you feel right now had you second guessing all your morals. He hums over you, lips lingering against your skin as he speaks. 

Before you could answer, his hips were stilling inside you, the base of his cock swelling as he pumped you full with his spend. It would have been painful if it didn’t trigger the release of oxytocin in your body, making you cum with him. Your legs start to give out, but his hold on you tightens as his spend continues to spill into you., the  His body shakes above you, chest heaving as tries to catch his breath.

The two of you take a moment to come down from your highs. The air around you feels electric as the two of you become one, his knot settling within your walls snuggly, the steady stream of Steve’s cum filling you to the brim until you couldn’t possibly take anymore. He rests his head over your scent gland, rubbing his face against it out of comfort while you still emit that sweet, sweet smell. 

Everything feels right in the moment, until it’s interrupted by a knock and an intruding aroma. To you, it smells like smokey wood and cinnamon, but to Steve, it’s a threat. The smell of another alpha trying to get near his omega and claim her over him. You can feel his body tense up, breathing picking up in a panic, lips pressing against the skin as his mind races.

“Steve?” You say his name meekly. There’s a short pause between you, a split second before you feel it, his teeth clamping down on your skin. It’s like every nerve in your body lights up all at once. The sensation is powerful it makes you cum again, clamping down on Steve’s still hard cock buried inside of you. The moan he lets out against you is pornographic, teeth still clinging to your skin tightly as his saliva mixes with your body’s natural scent.

“Hey, everything okay in there?” The muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Get the fuck out of here, Eddie!” Steve yells out to the janitor, another alpha that you’d seen in passing, pinching your skin as he does his best to keep his teeth on you. It’s quiet for a moment, and you think that Eddie left until you hear a loud, booming laugh, and a faint “About damn time!” as the new smell starts to dissipate. 

Steven feels your body jolt slightly beneath him and refocuses his attention on you. You do it again with an audible snort. At first he thinks you might be crying, guilt creeping in as he’s realized what he’s done to you. But as you get louder, it’s clear that you are actually laughing. 

“Was tho funneh?” He asks, drooling down onto your back.

“I don’t know,” you say through fits of giggles. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Thounds like et,” he says, laughing along with you.

“Sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting any of this.” Your body shifts under him, growing uncomfortable in the position you were in. Steve senses this, releasing your skin and licking your wounds so that, with careful maneuvering, he’s able to get both of you comfortably on your sides. He wraps his arms and legs around you, holding you close to his strong chest, eyeing his handiwork of his mark as you rest your head on his arm.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” he says softly, kissing the back of your head. “If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I took things too far…But if I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t regret it.”

It could be the residual high from your heat, or the change in your brain chemistry from his mark, or just the fact that you’ve been pushing down how much you really wanted this with him from the moment your hands touched when you both went for the same bagel at the first staff meeting over the summer, but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t regret it either. 

For so long you’ve been in denial, trying to ignore that he was the reason your suppressants stopped working because you wanted him so badly that your body was rejecting them when he was around. Denying how happy you get when he brings you coffee in the morning, or how much you look forward to when he sits with you during his lunch period to talk about whatever shenanigans his multitude of friends get into, or how the whole reason you started this heat was because he let you sit in the passenger seat of his BMW while he jumped your car after work on Tuesday, the inside smelling so overwhelmingly like him that you had to jump out and rush straight to your car before you ended up jumping him in the middle of the parking lot. 

“Steve?” You request his attention just above a whisper, breaking the silence between you. He hums quizzically, resting his cheek against yours. “Did you really need to grade papers this week, or have you been avoiding me this week because you knew I was going through a heat?”

His cheek vibrates against yours as he chuckles from his throat. “You’re so smart, you know that, right?” He kisses your cheek before settling back with his head on the pillow, forehead resting against the back of your head. 

As the two of you lay there you ask him a million questions, picking his brain to its fullest extent with this new closeness the two of you share. Really, you just like the sound of his voice, but he does say a few things here and there that make you belly laugh.

“Don’t do that,” he laughs along with you, “We’re never going to come undone if you keep squeezing me like that!”

“I can’t help it,” you wipe a tear from your eye, trying your hardest to suppress your giggles. 

Thirty minutes pass and Steve’s knot finally goes down enough that he can pull out of you. It feels like a part of you is missing now that he’s no longer occupying you after so long. Hot, sticky cum pours from you like a storm drain onto the sheet below. With a sigh, you make a mental note to add new sheets on your list of things to replace, right under a new box of bandaids.

Oh, shit. Steve’s arm.

As he starts to gather the discarded clothes on the floor, you see that that blood has dried up and mostly rubbed off after everything. After the two of you redress, you wearing Steve’s button up after he made your blouse no longer wearable, not that you were complaining as the need to nest was starting to kick in, you cared for his wound. Just a cut left behind that would be okay with a little disinfecting and a few steristrips. 

“You forgot the most important part,” he says with a shake of his head as you place the last strip on his arm. You tilt your head at him in confusion, a smile forming on his face as he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Aren’t you gonna kiss it better?”

[lavendermunson]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

World’s most famous and loved people of the year. They fill stadiums, arenas. But would they be able to fill each other’s hearts?

A famous singer reader x famous baseball player steve au.

Chapter 1: Gorgeous.

Chapter 2: Little secret, big secret.

Chapter 3: I can see you as my addiction.

Chapter 4: Good at keeping secrets. OUT NOW

Chapter 5: Say you’ll remember me. in the vault, coming soon.

tag list is open!

[thornsnvultures]

the big bad wolf

wolfman!steve harrington x plus size!fem!reader

summary: when your boyfriend ditches you at steve harrington's halloween party for another girl, you go to leave, only to run into the man himself. steve's costume doesn't look like much but you're about to find out there's more to him than meets the eye. <3k words

cw: 18+ NSFT, a shitty boyfriend, flirty!steve, making out, oral sex (fem rec), pussy slapping, nipple play, super hairy!steve, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, knotting, mid sex transformation, bad little red riding hood jokes (steve calls her little red)

a/n: moodboard by me, divider by @/saradika

"What are you supposed to be?"

Your sniffling is cut short and you jump in surprise, not realizing you weren't alone. Steve Harrington stands in the shadows, leaning up against the side of his house, the lit end of his cigarette the only thing just barely illuminating his face. You brush at the rumpled edges of your costume, straightening out the many layers of fabric as you try to pull yourself together and not look so pathetic in front of Hawkins royalty.

"Can't you tell?" You huff, not in the mood to be toyed with.

"Red dress, red cape, basket of goodies," Steve smirks, his eyes catching on your exposed legs and staying there as he takes another drag. "What brings you to my neck of the woods, Little Red?" Steve steps closer, inching his way towards you as he drops his cig and stomps it out. "On your way to grandma's? I think you might be lost, Little Red."

The smirk on Steve's face makes your insides boil. You've already been put through enough tonight, you don't need any more from him.

"I'm not lost. Just needed some fresh air."

"I like the getup," Steve smirks, circling you, fingers lightly toying with the ends of your skirt.

You pull yourself away from Steve's curious fingers, backing away from him even as he advances on you. Like he's getting a kick out of fucking with you.

"What are you supposed to be anyway?" You ask, waving your hands in confusion at his costume, or lack there of. He's mostly shirtless, his surprisingly hairy chest is exposed behind an open denim vest. Your stomach flipped taking in his sweaty, well defined torso and thick arms. It was strange that he looked this sweaty at the end of October, maybe he oiled himself up? Or ran a few laps around his fancy pool before his party guests came over? You stifled a laugh, biting your lips.

"You can't tell?" Steve lifted his arms and did a little spin. You might've checked out his ass in his perfectly fitted jeans when he did. "I'm the big bad wolf."

His grin at least was wolfish, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you up. Steve laughed when you didn't say anything, just quirking a brow at him, clearly not amused by his teasing.

"Yeah okay, Steve." His smile dropped when you rolled your eyes but you were past caring. You needed to get out of here, away from this stupid party and the idiot you came here with. Not that he cared if you left or not. You felt your throat close up and willed yourself to stop, to not fall apart now, especially not in front of Steve who would only tease you more.

You looked back inside one more time only to catch a glimpse of your date, who had ditched you halfway through the night for some other girl. His hands were around said girl, swaying to the heavy, pulsing music blasting inside.

Steve was watching you watch them. You knew he figured out your little dilemma when his wolfish grin returned. That was it. You're walking home. Maybe not the best idea, walking that far on your own on Halloween night in this silly getup, but anything would be better than hanging around here.

"Hey! Wait up, Little Red!" You heard Steve follow you as you stormed through the crunching fallen leaves that the chilly autumn air had left strewn across Steve's lawn.

"Go bother someone else," you snapped, spinning around to face him. Steve was much closer than you anticipated when you stopped. You were face to face with his solid chest, nearly colliding with him if you hadn't pulled back at the last second.

"You're not walking home, are you?" Steve's hands were on your arms now. Big and warm and firm, holding you in place so you couldn't bolt.

"It's none of your business," you still tried to tug out of his grasp but it was no use, a fact that terrified and excited you in ways you didn't want to think to hard about.

"Oh I know," Steve nodded his head, pouting in a patronizing way that made you want to slap him. "But I can't bear to watch you stray from the path," he nodded to the woods behind his house, pitch black but for the full moon shining through the leaves of the trees. "There's monsters on these woods, little girl," Steve tugged you closer until his lips were by your ear. "You'll get eaten right up."

His words, and the heat of his breath on your skin, sent a shiver down your spine. A bird flew by just then with a screech making you jump in his grasp. Steve chuckled and let you go

"If you want to walk home, Red, be my guest. Or...," Steve dragged out that small word, tugging at one of the bows on your dress, one right by your breast. Your chest heaved with the shaking breath you took as you b watched him, inadvertently pressing your flesh into his hand more. Steve smirked and tugged at it again. "I can make sure you get home safe and sound."

"But it's your party-"

"Nobody in there gives a fuck about me," Steve growled. You suddenly felt like his declaration was true, maybe he was the big bad wolf. His mood had soured significantly, but he still looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

"Okay. Sure. Thank-," you began to whisper, looking down at your feet.

Steve grabbed your chin, cutting you off and forcing you to look up at him. "You can thank me later. Let's get you to grandma's house."

Steve grabbed his keys and hopped in his Beemer with you. He was right. No one stopped him to ask where he was going, when he'd be back. You guessed a guy with parents constantly out of town, the rules for house parties were a bit more relaxed.

Steve, it seemed like, was anything but relaxed. Even after he lit up another cigarette in the car, he was wound tight.

His hand never left yours either. He held it as he dragged you to his car and for most of the car ride he kept his right hand on your thigh. Occasionally he would rub circles on your skin with his thumb or give your plush thigh a squeeze. Almost like he was grounding himself with your presence. His hands were burning hot on your skin.

When he finally pulled up to your building, he stopped you with his hand on your arm before you could open the door to get out.

"Steve?"

"You haven't said thank you yet."

"Thank you." You moved to get out again but Steve was still holding your arm.

"Uh-uh, Little Red. Try again. You have something I want."

You swallowed tightly at the hungry look in his eye. "The goody basket is empty," you shook it around, trying for a laugh to break the tension. Steve couldn't be implying what you thought he was. This was Steve Harrington, he could have any girl in Hawkins he wanted. Apparently, at least for tonight, that girl was you.

"Very funny," Steve grabbed your chin again, this time pulling you close until his lips were on yours. And you were letting him. God his lips were soft. Plush and smooth. He tasted so good you found that one kiss wasn't enough. Neither were two or three.

"You taste so good, Little Red," Steve groaned into your mouth. "Bet you taste good all over."

A whine spilled from your lips that shocked you with how needy it sounded. Steve was an asshole, sure, but he had already done more for you tonight than your boyfriend. Sorry, ex-boyfriend.

"Let me taste you, baby. Give me what I want."

"Do you always get what you want, Steve?" Your question is said before you realize you're saying it. You knew the answer already.

Steve chuckled and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "More or less. Are you going to be a good girl for me and give me what I want? I'll warn you, I do bite." Steve nips at your jaw and you shudder and paw at his bare arms.

"Yes. Take it, take me."

Steve rushes the both of you into your apartment, helping you when you fumble with your keys. Your roommate isn't home, out at some party of her own. So you don't feel so bad about the noises you make when Steve finally gets you inside.

You move to unzip your dress but Steve bats your hands away. "Leave it on. For now." He does, however, tear your tights off, shredding the thin white fabric off like it's made of tissue paper. "Steve," you whine as he spreads your legs up and open.

"Hold these for me," he grabs your hands and puts them on your thighs, making sure you're holding yourself open just the way he wants as he sheds off his denim vest. "So pretty, baby." Steve brings his hand down with a harsh slap down your clothed pussy. His thumb works over the wet spot already growing in the center and he kneels in front of you at the edge of your bed.

Steve tugs your underwear up your spread thighs and off of you. You don't see where they go after, but you don't hear them hit the floor.

Steve bites and licks at your thighs, his teeth sharp like pin pricks, ones that send shivers down your spine and make your pussy weep even more. He sucks marks into your thick thighs, taking you apart before he's even got his mouth on your cunt. But once he does, holy fuck, it feels like heaven.

His mouth descends on your pussy and you bother holding back your scream. Steve's tongue is long and deliciously thick, wrapping around your clit and sucking the soul out of you, filling you with his tongue until you're seeing stars.

"That's it, baby, that's it. Come all over my face. Tastes so fucking good." Steve adds one thick finger after another until you feel so full like you're about to burst. And with a few more licks you do, tugging on Steve's hair, your thighs squeezing his head as you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

Steve gently kisses your bruised thighs, your soft belly. His face looks... different, harsher. You can't quite explain it, especially not in your post-orgasm haze.

"My, my what big teeth you have," you laugh as Steve nibbles up your belly, finally tugging you free of your silly costume. You lift up so he can slip it all the way off and admire your breasts, aching and waiting for his mouth.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear." Steve's words are a little slurred and you can't help but wonder just how pussy drunk he is. You know he wasn't drunk drunk, or if he was he hid it well until now.

Steve licked and sucked at your nipples, taking his time to pay attention to each one, plucking and pulling at them until you were keening, writhing on your bed and begging for more.

You gripped his forearms as his fingers worked deftly over your body. Were they always this...hairy? Not that you had a problem with hair, you loved a guy with body hair and Steve seemed to have plenty of it. Just, more than you remember.

"Steve, please," you whined, feeling yourself inching closer to the edge from the attention he was paying to your breasts. His leg wedged between yours and you found yourself unable to stop from grinding against his muscular thigh, greedy for more.

"Please what? What do you need, Little Red?" Steve's voice was deep, almost like a growl, the sound shooting straight to your pussy.

"Need you. Need you inside. Fuck me," you begged, not caring how pathetic you sounded. It had been so long since you felt this good. If your ex was getting this kind of action with someone else, fuck it, you would to. Steve wasn't playing around anymore. He was giving you what you needed, taking from you what he wanted. And you wanted to give it to him, to give him everything.

You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest when Steve bent down to kiss you, a deep, blistering kiss that made your mind go numb even as you questioned again if his chest hair was this thick earlier.

Steve pulled away with a growl and quickly tore off his jeans, chucking them across the room.

"Oh fuck," you groaned at the sight of Steve's cock before he flipped you over on the bed. Part of you was concerned about him fitting, but that part was quickly squashed when you felt him rub the tip through your folds.

"You on birth control?"

"Yes," you gasped, the word barely leaving your lips before he was pushing inside, bare. "Oh my god, Steve."

Steve pulled out again to lift your hips more, adjusting you to the angle he needed before slamming back inside. You screamed into your pillow, clawing at your sheets as Steve worked his cock inside, fucking deeper into your cunt with every thrust. You could feel every ridge and vein rubbing deliciously against your walls.

"That's it, baby. Doing so good for me." Steve kissed down your spine and his lips felt... different. You could barely focus on anything but the delicious stretch of his cock, but that mouth. It felt like... fangs, like he could barely fit his sharp teeth in his mouth.

Steve nuzzled into your hair, your neck, breathing you in a he rutted into you at a brutal pace. If his big hands weren't wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to meet his heavy strokes, your head would've broken through your headboard by now. You could feel his chest hair rubbing across your back, feel his heart hammering, breathing hard.

"Steve," you whined, overwhelmed by all these confusing, amazing sensations.

"Shh, I got you, baby." Steve reached under you, squeezing your belly before dipping between your thighs to rub your swollen, achy clit. Your mind was racing with unanswered questions, but they were pushed to the back of your mind until the pleasure was all you could think about. You felt so fucking full from his cock, pounding into you over and over, so deep in your guts you could feel him in your throat.

"Feels so good, baby. Taking my cock so well. Think you can handle more?"

"More?" You didn't know what more was or if you could even handle it but you wanted it, you were already nodding your head saying, "yes yes yes".

Just as you felt a pressure in your pussy begin to swell, like a balloon expanding inside your pussy, pushing at your walls like nothing you'd ever felt before, you turned your head and locked eyes in your vanity mirror with... something.

It was Steve, but it wasn't. He looked like a Wolfman straight out of the movies. Something horrible with giant fangs and fur along his jaw, torso and arms, but something so... Steve. It was Steve, but it wasn't.

Steve looked shocked, not realizing the damn mirror was there, but he was already coming. His monstrous yellow eyes softening at the sight of your blissed out face. He exploded inside you, filling your cunt with a shout, a long low growl, as he filled you more than you've ever been filled. His fingers on your clit pushed you over the edge with him and you came, clenched down on the protrusion on his cock that was keeping his cum locked inside you.

Steve removed his hand from between your legs and you saw it, the claws at the ends of his fingers.

"Steve," you gasped

"I'm sorry. I tried to warn you," you scoff, "I shouldn't have- I thought I could control it," he clenched his fist as he spoke, hiding his claws from you.

You could barely wrap your head around it, how the man you knew had suddenly become a beast. But you've also never been fucked so good in your life. It was a lot to take in.

Your mind reeled as Steve turned you on your side, still locked inside your pussy, which felt bizarre but oddly comforting, and snuggled up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you.

"You really are the big bad wolf."

"I told you so."

"I thought you were fucking with me," you smack Steve's arm and he chuckles behind you, the low sound vibrating through your chest. "Why would I believe you?"

"Your right, I should've said something. I thought I could control it, but with the full moon and how fucking sexy you looked in the costume-"

"I looked ridiculous."

"You looked so hot. It's just my luck that your boyfriend's a piece of shit."

"Lucky me," you laugh, leaning back into Steve's chest. "So what's up with your dick?"

"Oh yeah." You're sure Steve's blushing under his fur. "It's my knot. We might be stuck together like this for a while."

"Hmm. Fine. You can show me what other weird stuff you've got going on tomorrow then."

You close your eyes, relaxing into Steve's hold on you. For a moment he think you've fallen asleep until you speak again.

"Oh my, what a big cock you have," you mumble, already half asleep.

Steve laughs, being careful not to jostle you too much. "All the better to fuck you with, Little Red."

[finntheehumaneater]

I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 11)

(Part one) (part twelve)

playlist | pinboard | ao3

soft boys this time ♥️

if you’re reading this you legally have to send me an ask. I don’t care what you say in it just send me one PLEASE. I am just having a bad day and I want to answer things :(

(Notes and taglist under the cut)

As soon as Steve stepped in the trailer after Kendall had dropped him and Eddie off—which took a while, because the first time Eddie and Steve were ready to leave, Kendall had one hand up Robin’s shirt and the other in her hair, and Robin had glared at Steve and said that they “weren’t done talking”—he was immediately pulled into a hug by Wayne. It was short, and Wayne didn’t say anything, but Steve sank into it for the few seconds it lasted before Wayne patted his shoulder and went off to his room.

Steve turned to Eddie, who was taking off his shoes and jacket, a confused look on his face. “I thought you said he was at work?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t keep track of his work schedule, man, he’s at the plant when he is, and if he’s not, he’s home. Think he likes you more than me, now, honestly. I don’t even get a hello?”

Steve slipped off his sneakers and placed them next to Eddie’s black boots. They looked more dirty and bloody than Eddie’s boots, which made sense, since Eddie hadn’t been through the shit Steve had at Starcourt, but it felt weird. Eddie followed Steve’s gaze to his shoes and sighed.

“Let me guess. The blood is from Starcourt?” His voice sounded quiet and soft, and Steve felt arms wrapped around his waist from behind and a chin resting over his shoulder, and it felt oddly soft for how Eddie normally was—and maybe a little fast considering that they just actually kissed for the first time and had only known each other (technically, Steve wasn’t going to count highschool) for two days—but he just let Eddie stand there, listening to him breathe.

He was tired. He didn’t have the energy to think things over right now.

“I’ll clean them for you tomorrow,” Eddie whispered, his arms squeezing gently from where they were wrapped around Steve’s stomach, his breath ghosting over Steve’s neck. “Get all the blood and shit off, yeah?”

Steve shook his head, trying to move away, but Eddie held him still with gentle hands. Steve gave up, leaning back against Eddie and sighing, dropping his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. “Eds.”

“Hm?” Eddie hummed, biting into the side of Steve’s neck, clearly not caring how it made Steve flush and squirm against him, and Steve could feel the smile on Eddie’s face against his skin.

“You don’t have to do that.” 

Eddie pulled away a bit, pressing a kiss to Steve’s neck almost as a reflex and then shrugging, his voice so casual for something that was making Steve feel so so wrong inside. “I want to. If you were able to do it yourself, you would have already, right? Some things are too personal. Just tell me if you actually want me to fuck off, though.”

Steve shook his head, turning his head, his vision obscured in Eddie’s soft hair, his nose pressed to Eddie’s cheek. “You’re fine. I just feel bad making you do it when I should be able to.”

“Not making me do anything, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, his hands moving to slip under Steve’s shirt, and Steve flinched at how cold they felt. “You look tired.”

“I am,” Steve muttered, sighing. It was late, and his head hurt from so much fucking crying.

“Bed?” Eddie offered, moving his arms off of Steve, and Steve almost let out the most pathetic sound, but he kept quiet, hoping Eddie couldn’t see this disappointment due to lack of contact in his face when he turned around. Steve nodded.

“You can have the bed, I’ll take the couch,” Eddie said, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it on over his head, his other shirt lying on the bedroom floor carelessly. Steve wished he knew how to be that reckless with things. Maybe someday. His shirt was folded on the nightstand next to his jeans, sitting on Eddie’s bed in just boxers and his not-really-white-anymore socks. They were pink from bloodstains. He’d steal a pair of Eddie’s tomorrow morning.

“Sleep with me,” Steve offered, and he smiled slightly when Eddie’s face and his cheeks went red, choking on nothing.

“I-I’m sorry? I don’t want—I mean, no, I want to, but—“

Steve cut off his flustered rambling and tried to push out the thoughts currently invading his head that he should not have been having. “I meant share the bed?”

Eddie quieted, and his cheeks went even more red from embarrassment as he looked down and nodded. “Oh? You sure?”

“I mean…we did it before, right?”

Eddie hesitated, pulling a piece of hair over his lips and looking away from Steve. “Yeah, but…that was different.”

“How?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He whispered, giving up, his shoulder slumping as he flopped onto the bed next to Steve.

Steve breathed out a laugh, moving some hair out of Eddie’s face, saying softly before he could stop himself, “You’re cute when you do that hair thing, you know.”

Eddie’s eyes widened slightly and he grinned an almost stupid smile as he looked up at Steve, whose fingers were running through his hair gently to try and comb out some knots. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded. It was weird how he didn’t feel that embarrassed anymore when Eddie tugged him down by his shoulder to kiss him. He pulled away after a second—far too short than he would have liked—because his back was hurting from the strain of bending over like that. 

Eddie patted Steve’s thigh and propped himself up on his elbows. “Lay down, Stevie, I wanna kiss you properly.”

Steve’s eyebrows pressed together but he layed back anyways, letting Eddie basically lay on top of him, his hands in Steve’s hair. 

“Hi,” Eddie said quietly, eyes darting down to Steve’s lips with a small smile on his face. Steve kind of missed when Eddie was bitchy to him—not so much the hating him part, though—because it seemed odd how he was so fucking sweet, now, after one conversation. Although, he had this look in his eyes, like he still didn’t fully trust Steve, and that made Steve want to tug that thought out of Eddie gently and bury it somewhere far far away—to cradle his face in his hands and kiss him, to promise him that he wasn’t going to get hurt from this.

Steve didn’t do any of those things. He laid there and let himself be kissed.

aaaaa soft boys!!

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[redrebecca]

Hawkins Heat & Hypocrites

NO VOL 2 SPOILERS - TAKES PLACE BETWEEN SEASON 3 AND 4

Summary: Its hot in Hawkins and Steve really, really loves you

Word count: 2.8k  

A/N: The first fic I've completed in about 2 years and the first one I've written for Steve! I hope you like it :)  

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

*

Family video on a Tuesday, a few minutes past one o’clock, in the height of a characteristically hot, humid and sweaty Hawkins summer is understandably not bustling with customers. In fact, not a single customer had entered the store in two hours - the chime of the bell above the door remaining thankfully silent. The usual chatter from Robin was also absent from the heavy air after she had retired to the back room half an hour prior, grumbling and groaning about sore arms, sweat stains and too many tapes to re-shelve. 

Family video was deserted, it may as well have been closed.

According to Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington, who had you perched on the counter, short clad legs spread wide enough for him to slot comfortably between as he pressed doting kisses to your neck, jaw and cheeks, his fingers trailing lightly up and down your thigh and his other hand gentle but firm where it rested under your top, slightly above your hip.

Steve Harrington, who would never admit that he may have been slightly biased.

“Steve you can’t just close the store” 

The hand on your hip gave a gentle squeeze as he reluctantly pulled back to look at you, eyes soft whilst harbouring their usual amount of mirth.

“Sure I can, I did it last night. It’s simple really all I have to do is walk up to the door, flip the sign and-“ 

The corners of his mouth tug upwards when you groan at his antics. He hides his fast approaching grin by returning to his previous position, dragging his nose along the line of your throat, his lips kissing wherever they land despite your previous concerns over the damp layer of sweat and sun cream that had formed on your skin, a gift from the relentless Hawkins heat. Steve had made it very clear he couldn’t care less. A suggestive comment had been made, referencing the many times you’ve broken into a sweat in his company, in his bed to be more specific, with the sole purpose of trying to fluster you. It worked, you rolled your eyes but he hadn’t missed your bashful smile as you tried to turn away. Before you had a chance to fully hide from him he’d cupped your jaw in his hand, ducking down to tell you, “I’ll still have you, slimy or not” before quickly covering your lips with his to quiet your affronted protests. 

That's how you ended up in your current position, the skin of your legs sticking uncomfortably to the cold countertop, your boyfriend caging you in. 

“No, idiot. I know that you can physically close the store I just mean that you can’t close it now”

“Oh yeah? Says who?”

His words were slightly muffled by your skin, his palms warm and heavy on your hip and thigh and Steve delighted in your small shudder as the tip of his nose brushed over that spot just behind your ear. Much to his enjoyment, you inhaled sharply and swallowed before answering.

“Keith. Probably some of the family video heavy weights too”

“Family video heavy weights”

Steve’s voice was dripping with a combination of amusement and fondness, igniting a familiar heat in your chest. You scratch lightly at the hairs at the back of his neck, squeeze him a bit tighter between your legs.

“You heard me”

“Always do, sweetheart”

There’s a pause in conversation as he continues his loving ministrations, each kiss becoming more and more searing - hot enough to rival the blazing sun. The beams of golden sunlight catch the tendrils of his hair between your gentle fingers, hints of chestnut shining amongst his darker hair.

“I know what you’re doing”

“Oh really?”

As his teeth graze at your neck, you can only hum in agreement knowing a normal-sounding spoken response would be near impossible and the boy does not need any encouragement.

“And what is it that I’m doing?”

When he pulls back and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, fingers trailing along your cheekbone as his eyes follow, you blink. Hard. Hopefully hard enough to tether you back to the front desk at Family video. 

“You’re trying to butter me up so I let you close early”

“You’re insane”

“You’re transparent”

He scoffs but doesn’t deny it.

“All I’m saying is we could be at my place in a half hour, I wouldn’t have to wear a vest.. or much, y’know with the heat and all. And, I changed my bedding yesterday. Fresh sheets”

He wiggled his eyebrows and squeezed your hip.

“It’s too hot for that, Steve. I’m not getting heat stroke because you can’t keep it in your pants for a full shift”

He scrunches his face up at that.

“That’s not what this is I- that makes me sound like a creep”

“It’s not happening, Harrington”

He sighs. You think he’s dropped it. You should know better.

“I have AC”

“Great, answer’s still no”

His eyebrows raise

“I have a pool”

Now it's your turn to scrunch your face up.

“The pool where the kids swim? Really, Steve?”

Far too late, you catch the innuendo you’ve let slip. Steve, despite his age, grins. Trying to claw back a bit of control and add some reasoning to your refusal, you continue.

“It’s hot out, the lunch club knows no boundaries. I’m not scarring a group of innocent little teens because of you, hotshot”

“I don’t think they’re that innocent”

You shake your head in frustration, because out of all of your argument that’s his takeaway? 

“Steve”

His facial expression morphs into one of exasperation as he defends himself.

“I’m just saying the other week when I was dropping them off I couldn’t look out of my rear view mirror for ten minutes because every time I did, all I saw was El and Mike making out. Ten whole minutes, babe. If you don’t believe me, ask Henderson” 

“Dustin was there? Did he not get them to stop? He threw a shoe at you that one time”

He nods, briefly flinching at the memory of when the curly headed boy had hurled his shoe at Steve because he was ‘sucking face’, your face to be specific, in his eyeline which, in the Henderson rule book, is apparently punishable with a shoe to the head. Followed by a lot of high pitched screeching.

“He thought the phone call with Suzie-poo the night before was a more pressing matter”

“Was it?”

“Apparently they’d broken their record for the longest ‘you hang up, no you hang up’”

You snort and despite his previous exasperation, he lets out an amused huff of laughter. Chocolate coloured eyes remain on your face, your soft grin and the way your eyelashes brush against the top of your cheek when you blink. He wants you. He always does, but especially now. So, he prepares his final proposal to get you into his car and back to his house.

“I can lock the gate?”

“We both know that a lock won’t stop Dustin Henderson”

Steve nods begrudgingly and mumbles “Shit head” in agreement. He deflates as his last chance is ripped in front of him all because of a kid that can’t keep his nose out of other people's business, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His hair tickles at your temple but you don’t want to move.

“And anyway, in your family pool? Have a bit of class, Harrington”

And just like that, Steve splutters back to life.

“Class? That’s rich coming from someone who’s been all over me for the past half hour” 

You watch him, entirely amused by his theatrics. He’s looking around the store as if to find out where you’d lost your critical thinking ability. However his futile search screeches to a halt when his eyes lock on yours and your giddy smile is returned tenfold. His hand on your hip subconsciously moves higher and squeezes again. You can’t bring yourself to care that you’re grinning like a love sick idiot.

That is, as always, before Steve opens his mouth.

“You know what you are? A hypocrite”

A startled laugh leaves you. Where this accusation has come from, you’re not entirely sure, but you know from the look on his face you’ll find out soon. So for now all you can do is enjoy the moments of silence before he no doubt continues to spout ridiculous allegations.

“You’re groping me at family video of all places and lecturing me about class? Unbelievable, I should kick you out”

“Groping?” 

Maybe your voice is higher than usual, but Steve’s rises to reach it, echoing your previous words.

“You heard me”

“Whose hand is under whose shirt?”

You have him there, hook, line and sinker. Steve knows this, but the logical path is not one he tends to follow in your conversations - hence the hypocrite and groping accusations. He doesn’t move his hand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

A pause and a cheeky grin.

Your fingers still in his hair in anticipation for what he’s going to say

“Hypocrite”

He belly laughs as you shove him away from you and jump off the counter. It’s a laugh that’s present in all of your best memories, a familiar sound that always has your heart racing and cheeks burning from smiling too hard for too long. One you would go to great extents for, on nights where the horrors of what you’ve experienced catch up to both of you. The laugh you miss so deeply when those aforementioned horrors appear, a seemingly unending cycle that you can only pray you’ve seen the end of. 

Your grin falters and your laugh fades with it.

“Hey”

When you look up, he’s staring at you. His eyes hold the warmth you’ve become so familiar with, but it’s not right. His eyes linger too long, trail across your face one too many times - he’s worried. Immediately, you’re struck with how well he knows you, how he can read the smallest, almost indistinguishable changes in your facial expressions and body language. He’s done it before, he’ll do it again, but the fact that someone loves you so deeply, that Steve Harrington loves you so deeply, is a feeling you will always be stumped by and will always cherish.

“C’mere”

You flash him a playful glare and try to ignore how his shoulders sag slightly in relief or else you’ll run into arms, sob and then maybe later he would have to have you removed from the premises for getting handsy with him in a Family video store.

“Get lost, Harrington”

He grins, hands raised in surrender. 

“I won’t try anything I swear, just… can I?”

Maybe you nod your head too quickly, but when Steve Harrington asks nicely with his tone slightly softer than usual, you’re not sure if there’s anything he could ask for that you would say no to. Except from the swimming pool plan because in full seriousness, Dustin Henderson has never been stopped by a lock. And you dread to imagine what he would throw at Steve this time.

You step forward into his waiting arms as he reaches for your necklace, fingers brushing your collar bone as he repositions it around your neck. It doesn’t take long for you to understand what he’s doing, it takes a second longer for you to understand why he’s doing it. But when you realise you feel stupid - the answer is glaringly obvious.

Because he’s Steve.

And you’ve struck gold.

“The clasp was at the front”

He explains it simply, as if he hasn’t left you reeling over such a small gesture. But maybe that’s the beauty of it, he gives so much and so often without realising, without expecting anything in return. 

“And whose fault was that?”

The easy grin is back on his face. He takes your wrists into his hands without a second thought, his hands sliding up your arms to hold onto your shoulders, thumbs stroking over exposed skin before they trail back down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“I was cajoled”

“Sure you were, Stevie”

He lights up at the nickname, the one he claims to hate. 

Hypocrite, you think.

Steve’s eyes drift down to your necklace again and suddenly he’s looking all too smug.

“It’s a nice necklace”

You can’t even deny it. He’d bought you it for your last birthday, completely off his own back without any input from you. You’ve worn it every day since, something Steve has noticed but never mentioned, deciding to be quietly proud instead of rubbing it in everyone’s faces despite how much he wants to. 

Hell, even Robin was speechless. 

“So what did dingus get you?” She’d asked lounging on one of Steve’s couches, a slice of birthday cake in hand and a party hat placed haphazardly on her head. You gestured to your neck and watched as she nodded, approving. 

“I’m surprised you remembered which one she wanted”

“Fuck off, Buckley. I picked it out myself”

The girl was stunned, the cake nearly dropped right out of her slackening fingers. She shuffled even closer to you to get a better look, growing even more shocked and, much to her surprise, impressed with Steve.

“Holy shit, Steve”

Meanwhile Max still refused to believe that Steve had actually chosen it.

“It’s a really nice necklace”

Using his hold on your hands he pulls you into him, his hands wrapping around your back as you tuck your face into his shoulder. The name badge attached to his vest presses into you but you don’t care. It’s a small discomfort you quickly forget about as his broad, heavy hands hold you close. 

“I wear it everyday”

Steve hugs you even tighter to him, you clutch him even tighter to you.

“I know”

You feel the soft press of a kiss to the top of your head and sigh at the feeling of his hands slowly moving across your back, then to your shoulder, up the back of your neck before your head is gently tilted back. You close your eyes as he pecks your lips. Once, twice, three times before he deepens the kiss, your hands grabbing at his sides as his hands remain sure and unwavering on your cheek and at the back of your neck. It’s hard to think straight when he’s crowding every one of your senses, that’s why it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are. Maybe you allow yourself to indulge in his kisses and caresses for a moment longer, but you enjoy it and you’re certain Steve does too.

“Steve” 

He barely pulls away, lips smearing against yours as he speaks.

“That’s it, say my name babe”

“Steven”

He makes a displeased noise. 

“Not quite”

Before he can slot his lips against yours, you put a firm hand on his chest. He gets the message and reluctantly stops, moving a hand to rest on the arm between you. His short fingernails scratch lightly up and down the expanse of skin, goosebumps shortly following after.

“Can I stay at yours tonight?”

His nod is quick and hurried. 

“Of course you can. Just uh,”

His eyes remain on your arm where your skin is still covered with goosebumps, the corners of his mouth raise and as much as you hate yourself for it, yours do too.

“Don’t forget to bring your swimsuit. Or do forget, I’m sure we’ll find a way around it”

Your bubbly laugh contradicts the eye roll his comment receives and the warmth in your chest is now joined by the giddiness in the pit of your stomach. You shake your head, traitorous bursts of laughter still leaving your lips.

“I’m not coming for whatever you have planned in the swimming pool, Harrington”

“No? What are you coming for then?”

You grin and shrug your shoulders with an air of faux nonchalance.

“You have AC”

Steve’s laughter fills the silent store, the best a Family video has ever sounded in your humble opinion. Your laughter is quick to follow, spurred on by his happiness and his hand that is still on your arm, keeping you close to him. You’re overcome by love, adoration and Steve, and you can’t get your eyes to leave his face. The laughter from your end fades as you continue to gaze at him with an overwhelming amount of fondness and endearment.

He can’t help but notice, suddenly turning sheepish under your unwavering attention.

“What?”

A smitten smile, full of emotion.

“I really love your laugh”

Usually he would joke or tease, but you look absolutely besotted and Steve knows he’s got the same look in his eyes. Also, most importantly, he loves you. He really, really loves you.

“That’s strange, I really love yours too”

[cherrychilli]

Late night visit

I’m just working my way up to a full blown Perv! Steve fic, honestly.

Steve Harrington Smut, Moderately Perv! Steve, AFAB reader, Shy Reader, Inexperienced reader, established relationship, early stages relationship

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, non-penetrative sex/outercourse leading to P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (do not recommend, people) dirty talk, mentions of pubic hair, just a hint of breeding kink

Summary: Steve shows up at your house, unannounced, late at night and terribly horny. Sex ensues.

A/N: It’s just a mess of badly written smut. Enjoy.

Not proofread. Whoops. I wrote this while held up in bed with the flu. *smooches*

Wordcount: 3.4k

You never assumed he’d actually do it. You’d only giggled and bashfully shoved at Steve’s shoulder when he’d first mentioned wanting to surprise you by climbing through your window one night. You thought it was his idea of a joke. Little did you know just how seriously he had considered the idea.

It’s 11.15 at night and here he is, perched at the edge of your bedroom window and peering inside. He scans your tidy room in search of you when you finally emerge from your bathroom and a wide grin breaks out on Steve’s face when he recognizes what you’re dressed in. You’re wearing the shirt he’d let you borrow the day you both got caught in the rain last week. He almost didn’t want to offer it to you, taking in the way your wet clothes clung to your shivering frame as his eyes raked over your chest in particular, the outline of your bra very evident as it peeked through the damp material. He tries to ignore the stirring in his pants for a while longer as he watches you pace to your desk to pick up one of your textbooks, attention fixed on its contents as you flip through the pages and make your way to your bed. 

Steve’s breath begins to fog up the glass as he watches you position yourself on bed, still unaware of the boy spying through your window. The shirt you’re wearing rides up when you lay on your front, hem settling just above the curve of your ass to bring your dainty white cotton panties on full display for Steve to ogle. He’s only caught glimpses of your panties before now. On those days where you’d wear your cute little skirts and dresses to class, Steve would pick you up and drive you both there with less than gentlemanly intentions in mind. Slyly rolling the windows down under the guise of it being another hot morning in Hawkins, he’d have trouble keeping his eyes on the road when your skirt billowed from the gusts of wind shooting past, causing you to gasp and shove your hands between your knees in an effort to pin the material down in place.

He can’t wait any longer and decides to make his move now. Sliding the window up, he places one leg inside as he keeps his gaze fixed on you. Your legs are bent at the knees, calves raised off of the bed as you cross your ankles over each other and flex your feet occasionally while occupying yourself with your studies. You look so cute while you’re distracted. So tempting. So, “Oh fuck-"

The sound of your toppling lamp gets your attention as you scramble to look at what caused it. You’re ready to scream when you see the figure stumble into your room but you’re quickly cut off when you recognize the panicked but hushed tone that follows.

“Wait wait! It’s just me, Steve!”, he approaches your bed hurriedly, motioning with his hands for you to stay quiet.

“Steve! what are you doing here?”, you place a palm over your chest where you can feel your racing heart, hoping to help settle its rapid beating.

“It’s late and my parents are sleeping just down the hall!”

“I told you I’d visit”, he offers a meek smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart”.

You only blink at him in response before walking over to your open window to close and latch it shut.

“I didn’t think you were serious, Steve” you sigh, walking back to find him sat at the foot of your bed, eyeing you up and down with a smirk.

“You look nice”

It’s then that it dawns on you that you’re alone in your bedroom with your boyfriend and dressed in nothing but one of his shirts, just barely concealing your panties. You’re about to scurry to your closet to frantically search for more clothes to put on when you feel Steve’s strong grip on your wrist. “Woah woah, hold on” he soothes. “Come here, let me look at you”.

“But Steve, I’m not dressed”, you try to reason.

“I think you’re wearing too much in my opinion”, he murmurs but you still manage to catch it and blush all the same. You know exactly where he’s going with this and you can’t help but feel a little giddy. You really shouldn’t be encouraging him but it’s all so exciting.

He tugs gently at your wrist, encouraging you to sit down next to him on the bed. “You look so pretty in my clothes, baby” he groans, eyes darting all over you. The shirt’s obviously too big on you but that’s why he likes it. The collar slips down low on your left to expose your shoulder and the hem bunches loosely over your soft thighs. His cock begins to stiffen against his tight jeans when he places a hand behind your head, pulling you in for a kiss. His lips slant over yours and despite your initial reservations about having him over so late at night you welcome the kiss. During your short time as a couple Steve had always been the one to initiate things because you couldn’t seem to break out of your shyness just yet. He didn’t mind it and you were thankful that he continued to take the initiative because you really did enjoy the way his fingers would roam all over your body and leave you breathless.

The kiss is intense, messy and dizzying too with the way his tongue would slide against yours and the way he’d occasionally nip at your bottom lip. One of his hands is placed at your hip, fingers bunching the shirt to bring your panties into view again while you can feel his other hand begin to trail between your thighs, inching closer to your core when you suddenly remember.

“Steve, wait”, you place a small palm against his chest, only managing to create a few inches of distance between the both of you.

“What’s wrong?”, he looks at you, concern painting his features.

“It’s just that- I didn’t expect you tonight, you know? If I knew I would have- I haven’t um”

“You haven’t what, Angel?”

You turn your face to focus on your closet door, unable to look him in the eye when you make your admission. “I haven’t shaved...down there”, you force out in the softest whisper.

You dare to look at him from out of the corner of your eye to find the most incredulous looking expression stretching across Steve’s face.

“Sweetheart, do you really think a little hair would make me want you any less?”

You’re not entirely convinced yet, gazing at him inquisitively before you ask, “are you sure? My friends say that their boyfriends don’t like it and—”

“They’re idiots, all of them” he murmurs against your neck before gently biting your earlobe.

“O-Okay then”, you ease up, allowing him to lay you down on the bed.

Bunching the oversized shirt over your stomach he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties whispering into your ear before easing them down. “Don’t worry, alright? Let me see that sweet pussy like a good girl”. You lift your hips to help him remove your underwear, bottom lip tucked tight between your teeth.  He finally slides them off of you and you’re too distracted to notice that he’s tucked your panties into the back pocket of his jeans for later. He looks ravenous, eyes dark and lips parted as he lets a hand fall between your legs to thumb at the patch of hair on your mound.

“Christ, sweetheart if I knew this was what you had hiding under those cute little panties of yours I would have snuck in here sooner”

“You really don’t mind? You don’t want me to get rid of it?”

“Don’t you dare. You don’t need to change a single thing for me”, he says firmly.

You’d confessed to Steve earlier that you’d never gotten very far with any of your exes, all of them becoming too overbearing or eager to rush you straight into sex without much concern as to whether you felt ready or not. As much as he’d love to have you sprawled out beneath him with his thick cock buried in the deepest parts of you, he didn’t want to make you do anything you didn’t want to. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t do other things.

“Baby, you look so fucking good like this. Can I try something?”, his hungry gaze catches yours.

“What do you want to try?”

Your eyes widen when he describes just what he has in mind and your stomach blossoms with need at how indecent it all sounds.

“What do you think?”

“You’re not going to -- you won’t put it inside will you, Steve?”, you inquire breathlessly with doe eyes.

You find it hard to trust yourself right now but the very last semblance of rational thought manages to scream at you to maintain some composure and try to be careful. You may be inexperienced but you weren’t daft. You knew exactly could happen if you get carried away.

You’re still waiting for your answer when Steve tries to pull himself together, looking like he might short circuit over what you’d just said. Everything from how deliciously vulnerable you look right now to how fucking dead he would be if your parents were to hear anything and find out what he was trying to do to their daughter has his mind in shambles. “I promise, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to”, he manages to assure you earnestly despite his shaky tone. “We’ll take it nice and slow, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you, Steve”

He gets up to pluck one of your plush pillows from near the headboard before placing it behind you and pulling you further towards the edge of the bed. You hesitate for only a moment before you gingerly spread your legs to allow him to stand between them as you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch his movements closely. When he begins undoing his belt and eases his jeans down you try to mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to happen but you soon realize that that’s just an exercise in futility. Your breath catches when his cock comes into view, painfully hard with precum already trailing from his red tip. How would that even fit inside me? you quickly question, frankly intimidated by the size of him. Steve’s quick to notice the tense expression which flashes over your face as you watch him stroke himself and he’s just as quick to reassure you. “Just lay back, ok, beautiful? I’m going to make you feel so good”.

You offer him a chaste nod before letting your elbows slip away until your back rests against the pillow placed underneath you. Steve leans over you, holding his twitching cock in one fist while the other comes to wrap around the dip of your waist. He guides his cock between your folds, slotting it between them before starting to rub his length along your bare pussy in long languid strokes. “F-fuck” he groans low and deep as his precum combines with your growing wetness, helping him to work his cock against your cunt with ease. The feeling is entirely foreign to you but you immediately lose yourself to the sensation especially when his tip catches on your sensitive clit every time he thrusts upwards, creating delicious pangs of pleasure which make you crave more.

“Oh, Steve that’s- that feels really good”, your voice teeters on the edge of a moan as your eyelids flutter closed.

“Yeah? want me to go faster?”

“Y-yes, please”

He increases his pace but only marginally, determined to work you into a frenzy first as the slick sounds emanating between you start to become more pronounced. Your chest heaves as you bring a hand to your mouth, teeth sinking into the back of it as you try to stifle your whimpers. He tears his gaze away from the way his cock slides against your slick cunt to eye your nipples, noticeably hard underneath the oversized shirt. “Pull your shirt up, baby, show me those pretty tits”, he huffs out between soft pants. Your free hand trails down to where the shirt is bunched just above your waist, gathering the material in your small fist before pulling it up and over your breasts. “So fucking pretty”, he wraps a large hand around one, squeezing firmly as he thrusts a little harder, causing your tits to bounce from the sudden motion.

“Bad girl, letting me play with your pussy like this”, Steve focuses his gaze back between your bodies, drinking in the crude sight of your puffy lips bordering his aching cock. “Do you really think we’re being safe right now? Jesus, you’re so wet. I might just slip right in if we’re not careful”. The thought of him pushing every inch of his length inside your pussy would have intimidated you 15 minutes ago but now it makes you clench around nothing and writhe as he picks up the pace. “You know how dangerous that would be, baby? Can’t believe you’re letting me do this without a condom when you’re not -fuck- when you’re not even on birth control yet”. You’re convinced you might draw blood from how hard you’re biting down on your hand but his filthy words continue to ring in your ears making your already sensitive clit throb uncontrollably.

“Fuck, I’m getting close”, he strains, voice thick and heavy.

“Steve, please, I want you to put it inside me”

It’s so unexpected, you’re both caught off guard when you moan out the words, causing Steve to still his hips.

“What did you say?”

It’s crazy just how quickly he’s managed to work you up like this. You don’t know what to think anymore. All you know is that you want to feel him inside.

“I know what I said earlier but I changed my mind, please Steve, I need you inside me-- it feels too good”

He knows he should be the rational one right about now but he’s just as wrecked as you, mind completely fogged by animalistic lust.

“Just promise me you’ll pull out, ok?”, you whimper softly

“Shit—yes, alright”, Steve had already made it his mission to give you anything you asked for the moment you had agreed to go out with him but for the very first time, he wasn’t sure if he had the conviction to keep his promise. He releases your breast, bringing his hand between your bodies to collect your slick with his fingers. He intends to work you open first as he prods against your entrance with his fingers, really prepare you for his cock when you let out a high-pitched whine, circling his wrist with your hands urgently. “No, I need your cock, now”, you whine pitifully.

“But baby, you’re not ready”, he tries to reason despite how desperate you look under him right now. “Please, Steve I promise I can take it”, you sound like you’re about to sob, clearly delirious from the anticipation. Steve knows better but there’s no way he can hold out on you any longer with the way you’re looking at him with those big pleading eyes. “Shit…”

He was right, you should have let him prep you beforehand but you refused to give up, desperate to have him fill you up with his cock. He’s only managed to breach your entrance with his tip so far but the tears have already begun to trail down your cheeks. “You’re doing so good, Angel”, he coos mouthing at your neck while you whimper and gasp from the feeling. You urge him to keep going despite the overwhelming feeling when you wrap your legs around his waist and choke out pleading for more. It hurts but it feels just as good as he bullies his cock into your needy cunt, stretching you out inch by inch until he’s finally completely sheathed in you.

“It’s so big, so big, oh god, Steve I- Mm! I feel so full”

Truthfully, he could listen to your pretty sobs all day, make a tape even and let it play on repeat but he’d rather he be alive to do so as he reminds you, “baby, you need to be quiet. You want your parents to find out what a bad little girl their daughter’s being right now?”

“But Steve, it feels too good” you pant

“You should feel what I’m feeling right now, god, you’re so fucking tight, Angel…are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes, I think so”, you reply timidly, heels digging into Steve’s back.

He starts off with slow steady thrusts, hypnotized by the way his dick glistens with your juices before sinking back into your velvety heat. Soft chocolate curls frame his pretty face as he draws out the most amazing string of moans out of you and he’s only sorry that he can’t encourage you to be louder. You’re already lost to the feeling of the ache at the base of your belly growing tighter and tighter as Steve’s thrusts grow more forceful, bordering on sloppy when you hear him pant. “Fuck, angel, look at you, you’re creaming all over my cock”. Your eyes fly open to focus on where he’s thrusting into you, cheeks flaring with heat when you notice the creamy substance forming a ring around the base of Steve’s cock. “Steve, oh god, I’m going to cum! Pleasepleaseplease keep going!” With a few more thrusts and a particularly harsh snap of his hips you feel your orgasm take over you, throwing your head back against your pillow as you’re unable to contain the visceral moan that erupts from you. Steve’s hand shoots out to clamp over your lips, drowning out the rest of your cries that follow. He continues to drive his dick into you as he nears his own orgasm, completely not giving a fuck anymore if your parents happen to storm in and find him balls deep inside of their baby girl, silently content with it being the last thing he ever did.

“Just a little longer okay, baby?” he grits through his teeth.

“I’m almost done, you’re taking me so well, so fucking well, sweet girl”. He knows you’re nearing oversensitivity with the way you’re convulsing underneath him but he’s so close.

His hand slips away from your mouth, falling to fist at your bedsheets instead.

“St-Steve, please, you promised—you can’t -- not inside”, you begged between pained whimpers.

His stomach knots at how fucked out you sound and he doesn’t know where he found the strength but he manages to rip away from you and the intoxicating way your walls hug his cock just in time. You gasp at the sudden loss and mewl when you watch him fist his cock right above your heaving abdomen. With a throaty groan he spills onto your mound, streams of cum spurting right onto your bush, coating the hair with his stringy release before it begins to trail down between your creamy folds.

He collapses next to you on the bed, chest heaving from exhaustion as you try to regain your breath. You both turn to stare at your bedroom door for a few wordless moments, trying to detect any movement from the other side before you finally break the silence. “Don’t worry…heavy sleepers, you know?”

You both break out into peals of laughter at that.

“Fuck, baby, please you have to let me finish inside you next time”, he huffs out with a tired smile.

It’s slow but you can already feel your senses returning. “Steve! Do you realize how reckless we were tonight?”, you attempt to admonish him despite being fully aware that you shared just as much of the blame.

“Come on babe, don’t you want me to fill you up? Wanna watch it drip out of your pretty pussy”

You don’t think you’ll ever get completely used to how unabashedly filthy Steve can get but that doesn’t mean that you don’t enjoy it all the same.

“Let me think about it. After I get on the pill, ok?”

He cradles your face with his large palm, placing a quick peck on your lips, “You’re too good to me, angel”

[succubusmunson]

warnings: Steve has a daddy kink, reader is called princess, mentions of overstimulation, hair pulling, squirting

Steve’s pretty and fat cock stretches your pussy open. He has both hands on your tits, pulling and pinching your hardened nipples.

You whine each time you feel the head of his throbbing cock rub against your g-spot. He’s been edging you for hours, and you need to cum.

“Yeah? That the spot, princess?” Steve slams his hips into yours, his sticky balls pressing against your ass. “You want to cum, huh?”

“Yes, Steve! I want it so bad, want to make a mess on your cock.” You lock your legs around his hips, pulling him, somehow, deeper inside of you than he already was. “Please… let me cum.”

One of Steve’s large hands trails down your body before finding your clit, rubbing harsh circles on it and making your legs shake around him. “C’mon, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock.”

That was all it took before the pleasure tore through your body. You let out a silent cry as your back arched off the bed, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You felt yourself gush around his cock, down his balls and thighs. You were making such a sticky and hot mess.

“F-fuck, yes! Right there, right fucking there.” Steve didn’t stop fucking into you, dragging your orgasm out as long as possible. He wanted to see you so cum drunk that you couldn’t form any thoughts.

Just when you calmed down enough, Steve pulled out, causing you to wince and the feeling of your wrecked pussy. He flipped your limp body over, your stomach now pressed to the mattress. He carded a hand through your hair and pulled your face next to his. “It’s my turn to cum now, princess.”

[sweetyyhippyy]

I Love You. Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader. *FLUFF*

Summary: Steve and his girlfriend finally say “I love you”.

Word count: 1.3k

TW: Extreme fluff. Allusion to sex.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn't sure what it was that woke her, the fact that the apartment was ice cold and all of the blankets were kicked off her body, or the sound of the smoke detector going off from the other side of the door.

“Stevie?” She grumbles, patting the other side of the bed her partner frequented when he stayed the night with her, only to find a cold empty space next to her. She furrows her brows, turning her head to double check she was actually alone in bed.  

She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before leaning down and grabbing the shorts from last night that were tossed onto the floor by Steve, and slides them up her legs, her whole body shivering once her feet hit the cold floor.

By the time she opens the bedroom door, the smoke alarm had finally seized, and the smell of something burnt filled her nose.

“Ah, son of a bitch.” Steve curses before letting out a deep sigh, his lanky body moving like a tornado around the small kitchen.

She can’t help but smile to herself as she watches Steve take a measuring cup full of pancake batter and carefully pour it onto the pan on the stove, the tip of his tongue between his lips in concentration, not wanting to burn any more pancakes than he already has-6, he had burned 6 pancakes already.

He sighs in relief, a small smile creeping onto his face as he looks down at the perfect circular pancake on the pan, hoping this one would be the perfect pancake. He goes over to the sink, turning the faucet on to wash the dishes in the sink.

She quietly makes her way into the kitchen behind him, taking in the sight of her boyfriend shirtless in her kitchen, his back muscles flexing every so often as he scrubs whatever dish is in his hand. Her eyes follow the chocolate colored moles scattered along his back, completely mesmerized by him.

It wasn’t long before she found herself inches behind him, her fingertips reaching up to one of his moles on his right shoulder blade and lightly touching it.

Steve jumps slightly, turning to look back at his girlfriend whose eyes were still filled with sleep, but also admiration. A wide smile fills his face as he makes eye contact with her, turning the water off to greet her properly. “Good morning, honey.”

She all but melts into a puddle on the floor at her pet name, warmly smiling back at him before wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his back. “Morning, handsome.”

Steve turns his body, letting her rest her head on his hairy chest and wrapping his own arms around her. “Didn’t wake you did I?” He jokes, knowing full well he did.

“No, not at all Chef Boyardee.” She teases back, snickering at her own joke. “The smoke detector always wakes me up.” She snorts into his chest, smelling his Old Spice cologne.

Steve mocks her laugh obnoxiously, squeezing her body tightly in his muscular arms. “Very funny, very funny. But mean girls don’t get the world famous Harrington pancakes.”

“What makes them world famous?” She asks, resting her chin on his chest.

“How about you sit right here, and you’ll find out in the next 5 minutes. I gotta flip the one in the pan.” Steve starts to unravel his arms from around her body.

“Wait, want my morning kiss.” She smiles up at him, puckering her lips.

Steve grabs her face in both hands, kissing her long and passionately.

She wanted to stay right there, making out with Steve the rest of the day in her kitchen, that was her idea of a perfect day.

She could feel her body start to buzz in excitement, her hands roaming his shirtless torso, wanting Steve to bend her over her counter and take her just like he did last night.

Steve begrudgingly pulls back from the kiss, trying to flood his head with pictures of bugs, cute puppies, Ms. Betty, his neighbor in bright pink curlers shuffling down her driveway, to stop the blood from flowing any lower. “I know you don’t want to stop, but let’s eat first, okay?”

She stretches up to nudge his nose with hers, pressing one more kiss to his lips before nodding her head. “Yes, chef.” She teases, sliding up to sit onto her counter, watching Steve flip over the pancake.

She grabs a sliced strawberry from a pile Steve had already cut and plops it in her mouth, smiling when Steve looks over at her with his eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Hi.” She giggles, chewing the sweet fruit slowly.

“You stealing my food?” He says in a fake angry voice, squeezing the fat on her thighs playfully, which makes her wail in laughter.

“Technically, it’s my food. You’re just cooking with it.” She says innocently, popping another strawberry slice in her mouth. “But if you ask real nicely, I’ll share.”

Steve stands in between her legs, his hands squeezing her thighs lovingly. “Please, sweetheart?” His eyes round like saucers as he looks into her. His perfect pink lips in a small, but oh so pitiful pout the closer he got to her face.

She grabs another and slowly brings it up to his lips, her thumb swiping his lower lip before pulling back. She was nowhere near being done wanting him in her arms again. He made her insatiable.

Steve finishes chewing his food before stepping back from her. “Do you want chocolate chips on top of your pancakes?”

“Oh, chocolate chips? You do love me.” The word slips past her lips far too quickly for her to reel it back in. She stared back at her boyfriend like a deer in headlights, hoping to whatever higher power there was, Steve didn’t hear it.

They had been together 6 months and the “I love you” phrase was something neither of them had said to each other, mostly because Steve was still scared from the whole “it’s bull shit” ordeal with Nancy Wheeler 2 years ago.

They both knew that they had love for one another, they could feel it in the air every single time they were together, but Steve was afraid to make himself vulnerable again, and she wanted Steve to say it first.

“I-,” She starts, breaking the tension in the room. “I’m sorry, it just, it came out before I knew what I was saying.”

“I do love you.” Steve says back to her, staring into her soul it felt like. “I need to stop being so afraid of putting my feelings out there because you deserve to be told you’re loved all the time.”

For the first time in their relationship, Steve looked shy and worried, barely able to look her in the eye.

She lovingly grabs his face, making him look at her. “Tell me.” She whispers to him, rubbing his face softly with her thumb.

Steve softly smiles up at her, fidgeting with the dish towel in his hand. “I love you.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to her wrist. “I love you so much. And I’m sorry I was too much of a wimp to say it before.”

She brings him in for a kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

Steve grips her hips softly, making out with her slowly right in the middle of her kitchen.

If it was up to her, she would have never broken the kiss, she would have kissed him all day long. As she pulled back, she was eye to eye with Steve.

“I love you, Steve.” She says just above a whisper, resting her forehead on his. “I love you more than you know.”

A smile spreads across Steve’s face, in complete relief that the words finally have been spoken. “Say it again?” Giving her the sweetest eyes.

“Steven Harrington I love you so much.”

He kisses her gingerly once more before sliding her off the counter. “Somehow I think I love you more.”

[astermath]

steve harrington who comes home late, seeing you sleeping on the couch.

his face radiates warmth when he’s met with the sight of your sleeping figure, draped in a soft blanket with your cheek smushed against the armrest. even asleep and unaware of your surroundings, you manage to be the single most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

he’s as careful as he possibly can be not to wake you up, bending down to press a soft kiss to your forehead and shuffling his arms underneath you so he can pick you up. wrapped in a blanket cocoon of your own making, head resting against steve’s chest as he carries you to your shared bedroom, you couldn’t be more at ease. the scent of his cologne and his gentle grip on you keep you nice and cozy, even when he puts you back onto the bed.

he can’t help himself, so he kneels down besides it, fingers gently reaching out to trace over the curve of your cheek. moments like these make him feel like you’re surreal sometimes, so he likes to touch you to ground himself. even if the feeling of your soft skin only adds to your dream-like appearance.

he presses another soft kiss to your head, whispering an “i love you”, almost lost to the silence of the room. he gets up to change, and he almost doesn’t hear the giggles coming from you on the other side of the bed.

you’d pretend to be asleep on the couch another thousand times if you could experience that again. and he’d play along every time.

[lavendermunson]

state of grace | steve harrington x fem!reader

+18 nsfw. steve calls reader kitten, hickey session sorta, thigh riding, fingering, needy reader. no mention of pronouns, reader has a vagina. no use of y/n.

“Slow down, kitten” He whispers in your ear , your legs are straddling his waist, sitting on his lap with his face buried in your neck giving you kisses and bites all over your delicate skin.

“The yearbook club is going to kill me if i show up for picture day like this”

“Can you please not mention school while we are…”

“I will have to put a lot of concealer on”

“Baby just leave it, let anyone know who you belong to” his calloused fingers hide under the soft fabric of your shirt, he squeezes your breasts as you begin to grind over his leg.

“If i’m showing up like this then you too” you start nibbling on his skin, trying to leave a decent purple mark.

Your kisses go down to his collarbone, where you start to lick his skin like a kitty referencing the pet name he gave you.

“You are so fucking needy my little kitty, i can feel my thigh getting wet already”

You always do it and it kills him, your little tongue presses down wet kisses in the most sensitive parts, his cock gets hard with the feeling “Stevie, shut up!”

He laughs at your words, his giggles come back from the deepest part of his throat giving them a lower tone. The sound invades your ears and you let out a moan.

“Good, good kitten” Steve leans his head to one side while giving you space to kiss his neck more, and more. He notices you eager for friction and he gets comfortable, while the muscles on his leg tighten.

You feel your pussy starting to burn, you search for more friction while he bounces his leg , softly, up and down.

“C’mon i know you want to make a mess on my leg, i can feel it already princess”

A desperate whimper falls from your lips, is the sign Steve has been waiting for. He keeps you steady on his thigh while you grind in it. Pulling you down so your clit can feel more friction.

A hand slides down your skirt, he touches the wet spot between your legs and over your panties.

“I think this has to go” he maneuvers his fingers taking the lace of your panties, his full hand takes a part of them ripping them apart. He earns another whimper from you “I’ll buy you a new pair, baby”

Two of his fingers go easy inside you, he bumps them in looking at the pleasure on your face.

“Can i cum, please please can i cum?”

“Sure thing, kitten. Give it to me” his teeth burry in his bottom lip, your mouth keeps itself in a perfect shaped “O”

While your core starts to feel hotter than earlier, your tummy starts relaxing and letting out sticky cum from your orgasm. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, swearing you can see right now.

Steve’s thigh gets wet and sticky, he doesn’t mind. He smiles while staring at it and his hand travels to your hair.

“You are so pretty” his lips come to crash into yours, a soft kiss while you get down from your high.

“You too, Stevie” you whisper in his mouth, your words tickling his bottom lip “Let me take care of you now”

“Who am i to stop you? Go have your breakfast baby”

You roll your eyes chuckling, he does too.

The yearbook club will have to wait more time to take your pictures.

made this randomly today after work, gooodnight 😵‍💫🤤 REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR

[allthingsfangirl101]

*Hawkins Realty – Steve Harrington

Warnings: public sex, protected sex, riding kink, language

After high school, I started working at my mom's realty office. It only took a few months for me to get my license. By then, I had already sold three houses. I quickly became one of my mom's best agents. I've watched her sell houses my entire life. It wasn't hard to duplicate what she did.

I was in the middle of showing the couple the kitchen moldings when the door opened.

"I'll be right with you," I called.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, his voice dark. That would've been innocent to anyone who didn't know Steve Harrington. Not to me. To me, he wants something and it was clear what he wanted – me.

As I finished showing the couple the house, I felt Steve's eyes follow me around. Every time I looked at him, he had nothing but lust in his eyes. I could tell that all he wanted was to tear my clothes off. And I desperately wanted him to.

The second my client left and the door shut behind them, I dropped my planner and ran over to Steve. He laughed as he caught me. I pressed my lips to his, him instantly kissing me back. He wrapped my legs around his waist and he took a few steps backward until we got to the couch. I smirked against his lips as he sat down with me on his lap.

Our tongues fought for dominance as I rocked my hips against his. I moaned when he put his hands on my thighs, slowly pushing my skirt up my legs.

"You've been working so much," he moaned against my lips.

"I'm sorry," I moaned back. "But the market. . ."

"Forget the market and focus on me," he pouted, breaking the kiss. I smirked at him as I reached down and slowly started undoing his pants. He lifted his hips, allowing me to slide his jeans down. I made him moan as I sat up just to roughly bring my hips down to his.

"That's it," he swore under his breath. I pressed my lips back to his as we continued to grind down against each other.

"Steve," I moaned. "Baby, I have another showing in half an hour."

"That gives us half an hour."

I gasped when he ripped off my underwear and moved my hips so he could push into me. With his hands tightly gripping my waist, I rode him. We started breathing heavily as our movements became sharper and longer.

As our hips moved against each other, our moans got louder with each thrust. I broke the kiss and looked into his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, I continued riding him as I reached up and unbuttoned my shirt. Steve chewed on his lip as I slowly revealed that I was wearing his favorite bra. It was see-through lace and unhooked in the front.

I gasped, instantly laughing as he put his hands on my shoulder blades and brought my chest to his face. I took a shaky breath as he started biting the skin that was poking out behind my bra. He licked and bit, licked and bit. All the while, massaging my shoulder blades. As he chewed on me, I continued to ride him.

"Steve," I moaned as he found the clasp and started working at it with his teeth. "Shirtless," I gasped. "Get shirtless. Now."

"Yes, ma'am." He grunted as he finally pulled away from me. I continued to bounce on him as he tore off his shirt. He started to lay us down, but I stopped him.

"Na-ah," I teased. "We're staying right where we are, baby."

"Then keep going."

"Weren't you doing something?" I asked, innocently poking my chest out.

Steve smirked before putting his lips back on my chest. I breathed shakily as he struggled to unclasp my bra. I moaned when it finally popped open.

"There we go," I moaned.

The second it was open, Steve wrapped his lips around my breast. I put my hand on the back of his neck, pushing him more against my chest. For a brief second, I forgot that I was supposed to be pleasuring him. As I went back to it, he bit my breast.

"Oh baby," he moaned against my chest. "This feels so good, baby girl."

"I'm glad you like it," I said shakily. The more I rocked my hips, the shakier my legs got. Right as we were about to peak, I stood up.

"What are you doing?" He pouted, breathing heavily.

Steve smirked, excitement burning in his eyes as I leaned forward and grabbed the blanket that was draped across the back of the couch behind him. I ignored his pout as I climbed off his lap and wrapped the blanket around me.

"Grab our clothes," I smirked. "And then come find me."

                                * * * * *

We let out loud moans as we reached our peaks. Steve rolled off of me, both of us struggling to catch our breaths.

"We should really break in the beds at your houses more often," he joked as he grabbed my hand and pulled me back into his chest.

"Are you kidding?" I scoffed. "If my Mom found out my boyfriend was sneaking over and we were having sex in the beds, she'd kill me."

"But you enjoyed it, right?" He teased as his hands got a little too low.

I held back my moan as he squeezed my ass. Steve laughed as he rolled us so I was on top of him. I rubbed my chest against his as he massaged my ass.

I put my hands by his head and slid my body down his. He moaned as I slipped him into me. The second I pushed him into me, he rolled us over. We laughed as we started what we just finished.

"Miss Y/L/N?"

"Shit," I giggled. "That's my four o'clock."

"Are you here?" The wife called out.

"I'll be right down!" I called back.

I stood up and quickly got out of bed. I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed as fastly as I could. I looked over my shoulder and blushed when I saw Steve still in bed, the blanket barely covering him.

"You need to sneak out," I smirked. "They're gonna wanna see the master bedroom."

"Or you could tell them you already have a buyer," Steve said slowly as he got out of bed.

"What buyer?" I laughed as I finished getting dressed. "It barely went on the market and I've only shown it to the guy who looks more at me than at the house and a couple who is thinking about moving but probably won't."

I turned toward him, my breath getting caught in my throat. And not because he was only in his boxers. The look on his face was a soft smile.

"You do have a buyer," he whispered as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his chest.

"Steve," I said, his name getting stuck in my throat.

"What if I bought the house," he said slowly, "for us?"

"Are you. . . Are you serious?" I stuttered.

"Of course," he smiled as he tightened his arms around my waist. "I love you, Y/N. This house would be perfect for us. For our life."

"I love you too, Steve," I said with happy tears streaming down my face. I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. I instantly felt his smile as he sweetly kissed me. Before we could get too lost in the kiss, the woman called out again.

"Hello?"

"So sorry, Mrs. Hendricks," I called back. "I'm finishing up with another couple. I'll be right down."

I looked up to see Steve nervously chewing his bottom lip as he waited for my response. "Get dressed," I whispered. "I have to show them around. Once they're gone, we'll fill out the paperwork."

"Or you can tell them you have a buyer and come back to our room," he chuckled, his voice darkening. "We could celebrate."

The way he said that gave me goosebumps. He started to lean in for another kiss, but I forced myself to stop him.

"Can you make our bed, babe?" I asked. "I still have to show our bedroom to my prospective client."

"But. . ." He started to say.

"I'll give them the "I have a date with my boyfriend and don't want to be late" tour," I said to reassure him, "then we can celebrate."

This time when Steve leaned in to kiss me, I didn't stop him. I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around him. He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist. Our lips started to move quicker and messily in sync as things started to speed up.

"We really need to stop," I whispered, breaking the kiss and breathing heavily.

"I know," Steve chuckled. "I'll clean up here. You go take care of your client."

He kissed me softly before turning around and finishing getting dressed. I straightened my clothes before heading downstairs. Steve jogged over and grabbed my hand. He spun me around and pulled me into his chest.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," he whispered. "Right here."

"Right here," I whispered back. "Forever?"

"Forever."

[dameronology]

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 1/5

s u m m e r ' 8 6

you'll be the saddest part of me, a part of me that will never be mine - the loneliest, maneskin (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a a.k.a the three times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment, the one time that you chose the wrong moment, and the one time you both got it right (series masterlist)

You made Steve Harrington cry the first time you met him.

He still remembered it clear as day, even though it had been in first grade. You'd thrown a Lego brick at his head and stuffed sand in his mouth, promising that if he ever touched your pet worm again (his name was Sherm, if you were wondering) that he would pay. After some negotiation and charm from his part - and the promise that he wouldn't make his parents call yours - you had become best friends. You brought balance to one another's lives, even from a young age. Steve was always a little more calculated and thoughtful in his actions, sticking to the sidelines at playtime and always worrying about his hair. You, meanwhile, had always run headfirst into danger, with scrapes on your knees and glue in your hair. Ying and yang.

You never left Steve's side and he never left yours. Things came close when the popularity really got to his ego in sophomore year, but it was nothing a whack across the head couldn't fix. The threat of telling every person at Hawkins High about his Farah Fawcett hairspray secret also very quickly humbled him. He owed you a lot of apologies after that phase.

Things were better than ever by the time graduation rolled around. It hadn't really hit either of you that this was it; that Hawkins High would no longer be your world. It was scarier for you than it was for Steve because he knew deep down that he had probably peaked in high school. He had no college lined up; while you'd gone and gotten yourself a full scholarship to NYU, all he'd done was argue with his parents about his grades and why they wouldn't foot the bill for him to follow you to the city. The world was about to become bigger and scarier. The prospect of you being thousands of miles away only made it worst.

"Just one year," Steve begged, "just take one year out. The new mall is gonna be hiring loads of people and you can save up a butt ton before you go to college-"

"- I am not taking a year out, Steve!" you exclaimed. Reaching across the center console, you gave his chest a whack. "I worked my ass off the last four years so that I have enough money to go now."

"Okay, don't think about money then. Think about..."

He paused, trailing off.

"Think about what?"

"Spending time with me before I go?" he meekly asked. "We can have loads of fun! Just me and you, y'know, having one final year together before you leave me forever."

You groaned. "Steve, we've had all summer together. Also, I'm not leaving you! I'll be home literally every few weeks."

He forced a smile, eyes focusing on the road ahead. This was his last two days with you before you moved and he didn't want to spend it being sad. It was just that his heart ached in a way he never thought it would. A thousand times more than when his parents didn't show for graduation; even more than when Nancy Wheeler left him.

Steve's glance flickered over to the photo tucked away into his rearview mirror. It was a Polaroid taken over the summer; you and Steve were stood between your parents, armed wrapped around each other as you were grinning in your caps. Maybe his parents hadn't shown for him on graduation, but yours sure had, with flowers and hugs and affection for you both. Hell, they probably wouldn't have minded if he moved into your room once you were at college. It was definitely something he thought about.

"Summer doesn't feel like enough," he muttered. "Doesn't it scare you that things are changing?"

"Of course it does," you replied. "Change isn't always bad though. Things can't always stay the same, Stevie. Me staying home an extra year isn't gonna delay the inevitable."

Steve glanced in his wing mirror, indicating off the highway and pulling into your driveway. You'd had to beg him to come and help you pack; even though he'd acted like he didn't want to, he was secretly delighted at the idea. In fact, he was secretly delighted at spending any time with you.

After yelling a quick hi! to your parents, you both bounded up the stairs and into your bedroom. It was pretty much stripped now, years worth of blue tack and marks and scuffs on the wall. Your entire childhood packed neatly away into boxes; some for college, some for the attic, some for the dump. Steve in particular was drawn to the pile of photos on your nightstand. It was you and him through the years - some were a little dog-eared and frayed, but the two little kids smiling back at him never faltered.

He put them down and glanced over at you. You were sat on the bed now, having discarded your clothes for a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies. He'd leant that to you last year after a day at the lake - naturally, you'd gone running in totally unplanned in your clothes. He'd stood at the side the entire time, too scared of getting his hair wet.

That had always been one of his regrets; holding back. Not just the day at the lake, but the time you'd gone tree climbing and waved to him whilst he waited at the bottom. The time you rode all the big coasters at Coney Island and smiled at him as you went by. You were always going a thousand miles an hour and Steve just fucking stood there, waving as time passed him by. And now you were about to loop-de-loop right away from him.

He watched as you frowned in concentration, hands scrawling away at a messy to-do list. Pack, buy new toothbrush, apply for job, find class schedule. It was the most organised he'd ever seen you.

"You're being awfully quiet," you commented without even looking up. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing's on my mind."

"Steve, please," you scoffed. "You've been my best friend for fourteen years. Don't try and act like you're not deep in thought about something. What is it? A car? A girl-"

"- kind of," he said. "I was thinking about...us."

You peered up at him, eyebrows creasing. "Us?"

"Yeah. Don't you think we're pretty great?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "You're my best friend, Steve. Nothing will ever change that."

Steve sighed to himself. Wasn't that the whole problem? You were friends. Best, best fucking friends. And even though it was no secret that you yourself had little thoughts and feelings about him, they never seemed to overlap. You'd liked him when he dated Nancy. Then by the time they'd broken up, you were hooking up with the Dungeons and Dragons kid who had been held back two years. Then by the time that ended, Steve was onto his next fling.

And now you were going away. Maybe that's why he was yearning.

"Nothing at all?"

You frowned. "Nothing."

"Not even this?"

To be honest, Steve wasn't really thinking straight. Plagued by nothing but regret and hankering, he threw aside your to-do list and dove across the bed. His hands found your waist, pulling you towards him with might. It didn't take a genius to work out what was going on; even though his actions took you by surprise, you still tangled a hand in his hair when his lips came down on yours, the other finding it's way to the loop of of his best.

He pulled you closer, tongue slipping inside your mouth. You didn't mean to let out a gentle moan as he did, but fuck. Steve Harrington was a good kisser and it was annoying that all those rumours you'd tried to ignore in high school were true.

Steve sat up, pulling you into his lap. He moved his lips from yours, moving down to just below your ear. You didn't protest, instead dropping your head in the crook of his neck.

It wasn't until there was a knock at your door that you both jumped.

The sound was like a cold bucket of water over your head, snapping you back to reality. Fuck. You'd just made out with Steve. He had never been the King of Hawkins high to you; he was the kid that tried to kill Sherm over a decade ago. The same kid who got yellow braces because he thought they looked cool. The same kid that secretly cried every time Vienna by Billy Joel came on the radio.

"Honey, how's packing going?" your mum called. "I'm going to the landfill early tomorrow so make sure that you-"

"- yeah, I will!" you cut her off, trying to catch your breath. "Thanks, mum!"

There was the fall of footsteps as she walked away, leaving you and your best friend to sit there and deal with the consequences of your actions. You were still sat in Steve's lap, cheeks warm with something that wasn't quite embarrassment. His chest was heaving in time with yours, eyes refusing to break your gaze.

"What the fuck did we just do?" you asked.

"I...uh...I kissed you. And you kissed me back, and then I put my hand here and you put yours there and-"

"- it was a rhetorical question!" you exclaimed. "Oh my god, I'm still sat in your lap."

Rolling off of him, you landed on the bed next to Steve. You immediately pulled your hood up, tugging on the strings so that it tightened around your cheeks and hid your face. The worst part of all this was that you'd enjoyed it. Had the universe - in the form of your mother - not interfered, you had no doubt in your mind that you probably would have fucked your best friend. That certainly was a jarring revelation.

"Did you..." you began, but then paused. "Had you thought about doing that for a long time?"

"Yeah, I guess," Steve admitted. "Not like constantly but there's been moments over the last few years. And then I saw you sitting there in my clothes and we're about to say goodbye and-"

"- no we're not, Steve," you grumbled. "Because I'm going to see you at Christmas, and then like every weekend after that, and...Jesus Christ. Was that meant as an impulsive thing or an actual thing?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't kiss my best friend of fifteen years just for one night. I could go out to a shitty bar downtown and find anyone for that."

"Why now?"

"Can you blame a guy for shooting his shot?" Steve tried to joke, but you didn't laugh "I mean...yeah. Maybe I was thinking about you and I being more than you and I. It seems dumb now."

"Your timing is fucking awful, Steve Harrington," you gave him a small smile, gently running a hand over his face. "You could have asked me at any point before now and I would have said yes."

"But?"

"But I'm moving half way across the fucking country in two days!" you exclaimed. "You're my best friend and I love you but our lives are about to change. The stakes are too high and you are far too important for me to risk losing, okay?"

Steve smiled, giving you a nod. It could have been worse - it could have been a straight up no. A why fuck would I ever love you? or a broken nose. It was still rejection, but it was just...timing. Bad timing. Maybe he just had to wait.

He was okay with that.

taglist: @marauderssworld @boybandbaby @karasong (lmk if u want to be added!)

[finntheehumaneater]

⭐️Radio Star⭐️ (part 2)

(Part one) (part three)

(TW: brief mentions of blood and Self-Harm)

Vickie was late. Very late. And Steve wasn’t one to jump to conclusions (okay, maybe he was) but he was pretty sure she wasn’t coming. Robin was slouched over in the chair, her head in her hands, the cat—which Eddie had come over to tell her it’s name (Ozzy) earlier—was curled up in her lap. Steve knew she was crying by the way her shoulders shook slightly and her fingers were all curled up, but he didn’t say anything because there were more people in the shop now and he didn’t want to embarrass her.

“This is just great,” She muttered, her voice strangled. “This is just fucking great.”

“Language.” Steve said back, and she looked all fuzzy now, making him have to squint hard to see her. He was getting worse, but he wasn’t going to admit that. Her head moved up and he opened his eyes again, looking away. 

“Steve —“

“I’ll be fine in a few minutes, just—give me a second.” He whispered, standing up and grabbing onto the chair. He needed another drink. 

There was a line this time, and he bumped into a few people on the way there, which made his insides twist into knots, because fuck, maybe Robin was right? Maybe he did need glasses, and he’d just have to suck it up and deal with it.

When he finally got to the front, everything was all just shapes and colors, and his ears were ringing, and fuck he felt dizzy, his head spinning. Everything was quiet and fuzzy, and there was someone in front of him talking, but it was quiet and distorted.

He placed his hands on the counter and felt himself slump over slightly, his breaths feeling heavy in his chest, quick and hard. There was a hand on his shoulder and he felt himself flinch away, but it was like he was floating outside of his body, looking down at himself, and all he could see were hazy blurry shapes. It was like he wasn’t ever there.

Then the hand was back and he leaned into it, despite himself, and the thing stuttered slightly, before he felt another one at his elbow, and he was being shuffled forward. “Robin?” He muttered, trying to lift his head up fully, but he felt like falling to the floor and just fucking melting. Why was there always something wrong with him? 

The person said something back, but their hands were rough and their fingers were long and thin, and some parts felt cold and hard against him, so it probably wasn’t Robin. He felt the back of his knees bump into a chair and he sat down blindly, his eyes squeezed shut so that he would stop nearly throwing up from the spinning colors and lights. He nearly fell over sideways, but the hands hauled him back up and into the chair properly, and then there was another set of hands on him, softer and more gripping then the first pair. That was probably Robin. He felt bad for the other person—the poor stranger who had to help him stumble over to his table while he put all of his weight on them and barely moved his feet.

After a few moments of peace, Robin’s hands wrapped around him and his face pressed against her shoulder, her hair in his face. It smelled like the conditioner he used. That’s what he got for leaving it in the shower instead of putting it back in the cabinet.

“You used my shampoo,” He mumbled, trying to push himself away from her, because she really shouldn’t have to be dealing with this on top of feeling shitty about Vickie not showing, but she held him firmly against her chest and scoffed out a laugh, her voice more clear and recognizable since she was practically speaking into his ear. 

“That’s what you’re worried about right now, Dingus?” She muttered, her fingers twisting and tugging anxiously at the hair on the back of his neck, and it was probably ruining the look—since he had spent an hour doing it, even though it wasn’t his date—but it was fine. As long as it stopped her from pinching bruises into her arms, he could deal with having slightly messed up hair—even if that thought made his skin crawl.

It took a while, but eventually the world stopped spinning, and maybe it was Robin’s constant panicked rambling that was helping ground him, as she went on and on about how this wasn’t really that bad compared to the time that a friend from when she was younger passed out at a basketball court and lost her vision and hearing for two weeks, and she still needs glasses and hearing aids even now, and—

“Robin,” He said, pushing himself up and rubbing his eyes, the room finally holding still long enough for him to focus on her face for a moment or two before he closed his eyes again. “I’m okay now. And I’m sorry that happened to Kayla, but I'm okay. It won’t happen to me.”

He hated hearing her talk like that, because that’s how she rambled when she was scared, and it reminded him of those hours sitting alone in the dark and bleeding, asking her to just talk to me to try and stop her from sobbing, because she was going to get dehydrated soon and he didn’t know the next time they were going to get water. Or food. And she did talk—about everything and anything. She told him that her favorite color was yellow, and that she really liked sharks, and that maybe if they ever got out and he still wanted to be friends he could drive her to her favorite aquarium in Indy—because she also confessed that she had never gotten her license—so that she could show him her favorite tank with the stingrays in it.

They hadn’t gone yet, but they had tried a few times. It always ended with one of them freaking out—because they were still kids, and not even grown-ass people are good at dealing with traumatic memories. Okay, they were both 20, but still. That was young. To young to have gone through the shit that they had fucking been through. They both had scars, and neither of them liked to talk about it. Even after two years of being told that they would “heal” over time, the marks were still there, white-hot and dark and dripping blood down their arms and their chests and their legs. 

Sometimes Steve would re-open them, but he didn’t do that very much anymore—not after Robin had found out why he still bled, knew all along but just didn’t know how to ask, and had told him to let her know when he got that bad again.

“—eve? Steven?” Robin was tapping his cheek gently with her fingers. “Did you OD over there?” She was trying to make a joke, but there was concern in her voice.

“I’m…no, no. Just thinking,” He said, laughing lightly, but there was no humor behind it. “I’m alright.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re not. Don’t lie to me,” She whispered, taking his hand in hers and squeezing gently, the lone ring on her middle finger cold against him. Was that what he had felt? But then why did the hands feel so rough? Calloused? Maybe it was all in his head. Everything seemed to be, these days.

“I am. I’m okay, Bobby,” He lies again, looking around once he can finally see everything normally again. His eyes meet Eddie’s over the counter, who looks concerned, but drops the face once he notices Steve looking at him—just giving him a shrug and a blank expression before turning to smile at the young woman at the front of the counter who’s ordering.

Steve doesn’t know why that stings in his chest, but it does—something sharp and aching as he watched Eddie flirt with the girl. So he does that with all of his customers. It wasn’t a special thing. Not that he wanted it to be, of course, he totally doesn’t care about this.

He and Robin just sit there for a while, her fingers tracing lines over his palm as she talks quietly about something that he’s not really comprehending fully. She had told him he should rest for a bit so that he won’t crash the car when they drive home. She still hasn’t gotten her license yet.

After a half-an-hour, Robin was still talking, and Steve wanted nothing more than to just go home and sleep, even though it wasn’t really that late in the day yet, but then someone off to his side cleared his throat. Robin shut up and he looked over at—oh. Eddie.

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice breaking slightly from being quiet for so long, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed about it. He had a lot to be embarrassed about right now, really. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were tired and his skin was too pale with the scars on his arms poking out from underneath the sleeves of his shirt.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered back, looking down. “I just…how are you feeling?” He looked hesitant, and his cheeks were flushed.

“Fine,” Steve muttered, words short and clipped—like he was angry, but he wasn’t. “I’m fine. Sorry you had to see that. I’m just—tired.”

“Thanks,” Eddie mutters, almost absentmindedly, and Steve felt himself flinch slightly, because fuck, that was meant to be polite and not an actually fucking apology. Did Eddie really mind that much? Maybe Steve really was just a fucking inconvenience.

Eddie’s head snapped up and his cheeks went even more red. “Shit, I—sorry, sorry. It’s fine. It’s okay, I—you’re pretty light, so it really wasn’t any trouble,” He was rambling now, and as upset as Steve was in the moment, it was kind of adorable (fuck, he really needed to stop thinking shit like that). “Again, I—I tend to not think before I speak, so. Yeah.” His voice got quiet at the end, and he did really look apologetic about it, so Steve straightened up and shrugged, giving him a short, small smile.

“It’s fine, man. Don’t worry about it. I get it.” He glanced over at Robin, confused about the comment on him being light. Robin paused for a moment, and then gave him a confused look back, which he took to mean, why are you looking at me?

Steve sighed and looked back at Eddie. “We should go,” and then shot a pointed look at Robin, who shot him a mocking one back, looking slightly disappointed—for what, he wasn’t sure—and then helped him up. He could walk fine on his own, now, but she still hovered near him as he grabbed her green knit sweater with the little yellow star in the front that she must have taken off earlier.

Robin snatched it back from him and cradled it to her chest. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

Steve only rolled his eyes and said a quick goodbye to Eddie before walking out of the building as fast as he could without tripping or bumping into something. He was fumbling with the car keys when he heard Eddie tell Robin that they were welcome back any time, to which she replied, “Oh, yes, I will be coming back for Ozzy.” Before patting Eddie’s shoulder and following after Steve.

Once they were both in the car, he started it and sighed.

Robin was glaring out the window for the entire ride home, and Steve had no idea why. He turned the music on, and she slapped his hand away, turning it off again.

“Why didn’t you get his number?” She snapped, now glaring at him instead of off into space.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Robs. Just let me focus on driving.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, his hands shaking slightly as he kept his eyes on the road. “I know you’re upset about Vickie, but you don’t have to take it out on me. We can watch that shark documentary you like when we get home and I’ll make you some tea, okay?”

“Fine,” she mumbled, ducking her head down slightly as she tried to pull her sweater over herself around the seatbelt. He ended up stopping on the side of the road so that she could unbuckle and do it before they kept driving home.

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[fivelakesinwriting]

Six Little Harringtons (S. Harrington)

Author's Notes: This turned into more than what I had intended - Steve and his wife take the kids on their annual road trip all while taking a (somewhat painful) trip down memory lane.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references - innuendos, mentions of grief/ death, *contains brief (personal) theories about what might happen in the final season of Stranger Things, parenting/children, pregnancy, fluff!

Requested: Nope!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. And you do not have permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

The first Summer was easy. It was just him, the wife and Junior in the station wagon heading down to the coast. A little trailer hitched to the back of the car and away they went. Sunshine, sand, more cassette tapes than anyone knew what to do with and a surfboard no one knew how to use.

Then the twins were born. Three little Harrington's smiled back at him in the rearview mirror that Summer. He was vacuuming Cheerios and Lego pieces out of the backseat until almost Christmas.

Baby number four, the Hellraiser, was a total surprise. They felt like they had finally gotten into a routine with the other three kids and then after a particularly rowdy night out, she came to him one morning and told him she was pregnant again.

Well, fuck.

They swore they were done after number four, because she had been such a handful.

"She's Hell incarnate." Steve muttered late one night after a long battle of trying to get their restless toddler to sleep.

But even as a husband and father, Steve was insatiable with the sex drive of a teenager. Which was why when she told him she was pregnant for a fifth time all he could do was laugh and pull her in for a kiss, while giving himself a silent pat on the back.

That Spring he invested in a Winnebago, cleaned it up and got it ready for the Summer. Then one blazing hot Saturday morning in July he helped load all five kids into the RV. Three boys, two girls and all the comforts of home they required to make it a smooth ride.

"Alright, Harrington's. Are we ready?" Steve smiled as he buckled the last seatbelt on the last baby seat, then ran a hand through his hair.

"Steve! Can you help me, please?" His wife called for him at the bottom of the RV steps.

"Yeah! I'm coming, honey. Stay where you are." Steve replied with a tickle to the bottom of his youngest daughter's foot before he stood up and hurried out of the RV.

"Honey, I would have brought this out. You know you're not supposed to lift anything heavy right now." He uttered as he took the cooler filled with snacks for their brood. He lifted it up into the RV, checked on the kids once more pleased to see them all snoozing peacefully in their seats and gently closed the door.

"Are we stupid for doing this?" His wife asked with her hands on her hips, looking up at him.

"Road trip with five kids? Yeah. But it's tradition." Steve smiled as he placed a soft kiss to her forehead and smoothed a hand on her growing stomach.

"Wait until the RV is full of angry teenagers, then we'll see how much you like this tradition." She laughed with a kiss to his chin.

"What are you talking about? I was a dream as a teenager." Steve scoffed before he pat her hips and made his way to the drivers side.

"I know you're lying, Harrington."

..

They only drove for about four hours that first day. Two hours, a break for a picnic and a run around in the park, and then two more hours. They ended up at a beach near their motel, but nowhere near their destination. If having five kids taught Steve anything, he knew to let them run out their energy before bed time. Especially on a road trip.

"When we started dating, did you think we'd end up here?" His wife asked as they sat on the sand and watched the kids laugh and play along the shoreline. Cartwheels, kicking a ball and playing tag. Five little best friends.

"Are you asking if when I found you abandoned on the streets of Hawkins ten years ago if I thought that we'd be married with a bunch of kids? Definitely not. I didn't think we'd make it through the night." Steve laughed softly, the grief and trauma still tangible.

They had met days after Steve returned from the Upside Down, after the loss of Eddie Munson. Hawkins was in flames, the city quickly burning to the ground. Residents were evacuating as quickly as they could, leaving all belongings behind.

Steve was swerving and speeding through the wreckage of the streets when he drove passed her home. Covered in dirt and soot, she sat on the front lawn of what was once her home. He couldn't explain his actions, but he couldn't just drive by her. He slammed on his brakes and yelled for her to get in.

She had been by his side throughout the fall of Hawkins. At first he thought they had been paired by tragedy, but as time went on he realized that life was easier when she was around.

The smell of smoke was overwhelming. Burning buildings, torched cars and inflamed foliage surrounded the once quaint town of Hawkins.

His stomach was in knots and his body was sore, but he had to keep going. He got in his car and drove as fast as the old Volvo would go, the engine rattling under the hood as he pressed the accelerator. He rounded the corner of a familiar street, ignoring a stop sign. The city was in ruins, traffic signs no longer mattered to him.

It was her (once) white denim jacket that caught his eye. A jacket covered in dirt and soot from the fires. She was sat on the front lawn of what he presumed was her home, crying. A girl no older than himself, all alone in a crumbling world.

"Get in! It's not safe here!" Steve yelled through his open window.

She asked no questions. She got up from the front lawn and ran towards the car, climbing into the passenger side.

"I'm Steve." He breathed out as he pressed the accelerator once more.

"Callie."

She had stayed at his side through the remainder of the fall of Hawkins. Held his hand as he watched his friends perish, helped him rebuild his life while they rebuilt the town.

The first boy, while nicknamed Junior due to his uncanny resemblance to Steve, was legally named Edward - Eddie - after the boy who gave his life for Hawkins. He had been born with a full head of dark hair, like Steve, and eyes like his mother. Steve didn't think he could love anyone more than Callie, until he met his son.

They had not planned on naming the rest of the kids after anyone else from the Hawkins Tragedy, but the more they thought about it, the more they wanted their friends to live on in more than just local folklore.

The twins were Ellie, affectionately called El after her namesake, and Will. Both named after the two teens that had sacrificed their lives for their friends and for Hawkins. Callie hadn't know them for as long as Steve had, but her life was equally as enriched for having known them.

The fifth was a boy, Harry, named after Steve's grandfather. Steve admittedly didn't have much of a relationship with his actual parents, but his grandfather had been a major influence in his life and when he saw his fourth child, it was like looking into his grandfather's eyes.

The fourth baby, the Hellraiser, was named Maxine, after the girl who had given Steve the most grief during those early days in Hawkins. The original hellion in his life, and the girl he would have died to protect if he could have. While the girl was still alive, she wasn't able to live her life the way she had before. He had told her he named their child after her, and Max gripped his hand and gave him a smile from her hospital bed.

"Alright, Team Harrington! Time to go to the motel and get some sleep! We've got some driving to do tomorrow." Steve called out to his children as he stood up from his spot on the sand then extended his hands to help up his pregnant wife.

They got all the kids back in their respective car seats and made their way to their motel for the night. After three bedtime stories, one about a girl named El, the kids fell asleep. Little Maxine asleep in the bed with them, her foot in Steve's back.

There once was a girl named El, who was the most powerful girl in the world..

Steve and Callie laid in the bed together facing one another while the kids snored softly in the bed and cribs surrounding the room.

"What are you thinking about?" Callie asked softly as she ran her fingers through his hair.

"You, and all of this." Steve whispered back as he gestured around the room.

"Can you believe that we're going to have our sixth baby?" She laughed.

"Oh, yeah. My plan to have a family band is pretty well complete. Just one more kid to go. She's going to be the tambourine player." Steve smirked as he placed a hand on her belly between them.

"And have you decided on a name for our tambourine player, finally?" Callie asked as she ran her thumb over his hairline.

"I've been thinking about the name Malia." Steve replied as his eyes fluttered shut, feeling her soft fingers on his face.

"I love it. Malia it will be. The last piece of our puzzle." Callie smiled before she placed a soft kiss to his scruffy chin.

"Now if Max would get her foot out of my back, everything would be perfect."

[cherrychilli]

Secrets

Steve Harrington Smut, AFAB reader, friends to lovers

Summary: What could have been another ordinary night marathoning horror movies in your basement with your closest friend takes a turn when Steve discovers your little secret. Hella smut.

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, Nipple play, Fingering, titty fucking, sliiiight Perv! Steve(just barely in my opinion),

A/N: This is my first fic so please go easy on me. Also, apologies for any inaccuracies about nipple piercings in the 80's

Wordcount: 4.4k

It didn’t take you all that long to regret insisting on a horror movie marathon for your sleepover with Steve.

You’re far from the type to watch those kinds of movies through parted fingers or while cowered behind a comfortable cushion, but even you weren’t immune to a well-crafted jump scare.

The timing of it all was really unfortunate. You had reached for the glass of cold water set on the table in front of you, about to take a sip when it happened. The piercing sound effect catches you completely off guard, causing you to jolt and lose grip of the glass.

“Shit!”, the ice-cold contents immediately soak the front of your oversized tee as the empty glass topples to the floor, thudding softly against carpet before rolling away underneath the couch. A quick shudder overtakes you as your skin prickles with goosebumps and you hiss from the sudden freezing sensation. “Fuck fuck fuck!”.

You jump up from the couch, flicking the excess water off of your arms in a frenzy. Droplets spray in every direction as you look back at the couch to find that Steve’s doubling over with laughter at your little accident. Annoyed, you narrow your eyes at him before kicking him in the calf. “Get up and help me, Harrington!”.

With one arm wrapped around his stomach in an effort to quell his laughter, he makes his way to the pile of fresh laundry sitting in a basket on top of the washing machine, ready to hauled back upstairs if you ever decide to follow through with your chores.

“And when is the horror part of the movie supposed to begin, Steve?”. Your lips purse instantly when you recognize his less than adequate impression of you. Specifically, the teasing you’d dished out around the 15-minute mark of his first pick of the night.

“Alright, lesson learned, ok?”, you roll your eyes, trying to cut the mockery short but to no avail.

“I’ve seen children’s specials scarier than this, Harrington”. He continued in the same taunting tone as he returns to your side with a clean towel, about to hand it to you.

“Talked a big game back there, huh? Bet you feel pretty silly…”

You watch curiously as his smug expression shifts entirely. His eyebrows raise slowly and his lips remain parted since trailing off at the end of his latest jab.

Following his wide-eyed stare, you look down at your chest and your stomach drops. The damp material of your tee is clinging to the outline of your breasts like a second skin and the powder blue material now appears almost completely see through in its current state. Suddenly all you can feel is an overwhelming warmth cloaking your entire body but your humiliation only deepens when you realize the worst part.

Steve raises a shaky finger to point, towel still in his grasp. “Are those…?”

Your best friend’s just figured out that a tan wasn’t the only thing you came back home with from your summer vacation last year.

Your hands spring up to your chest, palms settling firmly over your visibly peaked nipples before you whip around.

“I’m going to go get changed” you rattle off before scrambling back to your room.

Closing your room door behind you, you lean against it defeatedly, sinking down to the floor while burying your face in your hands. You weren’t ashamed of the secret summer activity you had planned during your vacation last year. There was no big reason behind it. You liked it and that was more than good enough for you so you went through with it.  Most people your age ended up getting something pierced anyway. For you, that something just happened to be your nipples. While you couldn’t have been happier with how they turned out the last thing you needed was someone else figuring out your little secret before you were ready.

Groaning into your hands, you thought back to how you had opted to go braless despite planning to spend the night watching movies with Steve. You only did it because of how uncomfortable the underwear sometimes made your feel when the steel barbells rubbed against the restraining material. Figuring they’d go unnoticed under your oversized tee you felt secure enough to forego a bra without much of an afterthought. You cursed your foolishness.

Sliding your underwear drawer open you reach in to pick a bra to go with your new dry sweatshirt but eventually find yourself deciding against it. As embarrassing as it is, Steve already knows and that’s something that can’t be undone. Dressed again and after a deep breath, you force yourself out of your room and back into the basement.

Steve’s polite enough to pretend that it hadn’t happened when you settle back down to watch the rest of the movie but the awkward atmosphere had already set in and it was nothing short of suffocating. You’re both perched at opposite ends of the couch, wordlessly watching the movie as it illuminates the darkened basement but neither of you really process what’s happening on screen.

You try your best to will your embarrassment away but you can’t help but let the image of Steve staring wordlessly at your soaked tits play over and over in your mind.

It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s only embarrassing if you choose to be embarrassed, right? If you keep being weird about it neither of you will ever get over it, right? You can’t ignore it forever. You shouldn’t ignore it.

Right?

You can’t tell if you’re making any sense or not but the silence is killing you and it’s too late now because the words are already leaving your mouth.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to see them?”

His gaze cautiously meets your earnest expression. You’re at a loss as to what the hell has come over you so suddenly but you decide to ride this wave nonetheless.

He releases a nervous breath. “You’re messing with me”.

You inch closer to his side of the couch. “I promise I’m not”

You can see the gears grinding in his head, desperately trying to produce the right answer but clearly failing. After a few seconds of silence, you try another approach.

“Fine.” You slip back to your end of the couch and cross your arms over your belly. “Guess you aren’t interested. Didn’t think Steve Harrington would pass up an opportunity to look at a pair of boobies”. You’re not a fan of the word in the slightest but you force yourself to say it only for the sake of winding him up.

“Wait wait wait.” That got him talking.

Clearing his throat first he says, “I didn’t say that”.

You giggle at his attempt to appear composed and for a moment you feel something other than your racing nerves coursing through you and you’re thankful for the few seconds of respite.

His eyes flick to the front of your sweatshirt quickly before coming back to return your gaze.

“Are you sure?”

***********

This is insane this is insane this is fucking insane.

And just like that the nerves are back. You’re seated on the couch facing Steve now, legs folded underneath your body as your fingers hook under the hem of your sweatshirt. His body in turned towards you too, one arm resting on the back of the couch while the other is placed on his thigh over his sweatpants.

Just like ripping off a band aid, You pysch yourself up.

And with that, you pull the thick sweatshirt off your frame and let it fall to the floor, finally revealing your bare breasts and leaving you in nothing but your little grey pajama shorts.

You can tell that he’s just as nervous as you are as you watch him swallow thickly and notice the way his fingers dig into his thigh when his eyes fall to your chest.

After what feels like a lifetime he finally asks, “When?”

“Last year, when I went away for the summer”, you answer, heart thrumming rapidly in your chest.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yeah. But only for a couple of seconds”.

“How about now?”

“They’re healed now but they’re still pretty sensitive”.

His fingers twitch at that mention of that detail.

“Oh… Is it uncomfortable?”

You thought for a moment. While there have been a few times where the increased sensitivity was a little unpleasant, truthfully, you loved it overall. The little sparks of pleasure each time you played with them made it hard for you to keep your own hands to yourself most nights.

“Sometimes. But most of the time it’s kind of nice”, you downplay.

Steve hums in response, focus pinned on how the light being cast from the tv makes the steel barbells glint and glisten.

“You can touch them if you want”

Whatthefuck.

You’re taken aback by your own impulsive words. Letting Steve look at them was one thing but actually letting him put his hands on you is an entire other thing. It’s not that you don’t want him to. It’s not that at all. Honestly, you’re only worried that you might not be able to control yourself.

“Can I?” he asks, face lighting up despite his best efforts to not appear too eager.

You glance at the hand he has closed around his thigh. You’ve never told him good you thought his hands looked. Large hands with the same long, slender fingers you’d catch yourself eyeing from time to time. Warm. Inviting. Rough but safe.

You bite your bottom lip before answering.

“Yes. Please”

You’re holding your breath now as he shifts closer to you on the couch, fingers coming to curl around your sides, just below your breasts. “I’ll stop whenever you want me to. Just tell me when, okay?”. It’s the very last thing you want to hear but you soften just the same at how considerate he’s being with you. You nod affirmatively, hungry for him to begin touching you. Really touching you.

His thumbs begin to brush against the underside of your breasts, tracing the curve a few times before making their way to your nipples. He starts to rub at the rounded ends of the jewelry experimentally, unblinking as you both watch your nipples perk up at the indirect stimulation. You release a shaky breath only to inhale sharply when his thumbs start to rub at your stiff peaks from side to side.

“You weren’t kidding. I’ve barely touched you”, he says it with more awe than ego, keeping his gaze fixed on your tits as he continues to gently swipe his thumbs gently over your nipples back and forth.

“You- I didn’t expect you to…I never knew you even liked..um-”, He’s struggling and it’s adorable and kind of hilarious at the same time considering you’re the one with your top off getting your tits played with.

“Anyone can have their nipples pierced, Steve. They’re not just reserved for the girls in those magazines”, you reply unsteadily, already warming up under his touch.

“What magazines?”, he manages distractedly, eyes still very much fixed on your tits.

“The ones you think I don’t know about. The ones you keep under your bed”.

Now his attention is back on your face, eyes wide and hands slipping down to your waist, much to your disappointment.

“Holding them for a friend, Steven?”, you manage to tease.

It had happened purely by coincidence. The ringing of the hallway phone had drawn Steve away from his bedroom that one evening you were hanging out at his house, leaving you to settle on his bed until he’d finished with the call. A stiff edge protruding from underneath his mattress had caught your attention when it scratched against the back of your calf. Pulling the shoddily hidden magazine free from its confines you were met with the sultry gaze of a very topless woman gracing the cover. You had meant to put it right back immediately. It would have been the proper thing to do. It wasn’t any of your business after all. All rational thought began to dissipate however when a new thought came reeling to the forefront of your mind. It isn’t just any dirty magazine. This one belongs to Steve. The overwhelming need to take advantage of this opportunity was too much to stifle. You wanted to know what he liked. What turned him on. What made him hard.

Practically ripping the magazine open, you begin flipping through the many pages of women in lacy lingerie and many more of women in nothing at all. You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself until you’d flipped over to a new page. The model who had been posed on her back with her legs spread hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. Or so you had thought until you had begun to notice a resemblance. Does she look like me? Not exact but not unlike yourself either. Just close enough. Lifting your gaze to the hand she had wrapped around one of her perky tits it was then that you noticed that her nipples were pierced. You’d harbored thoughts of getting your own pierced for a long time but hadn’t gone through with it yet because of a few lingering concerns. Concerns that you were struggling to recall now that you think about it, too transfixed oh how good you thought the jewelry looked on someone who happened to resemble you.

You pinched the page between your thumb and forefinger as you gazed curiously at the picture for a moment longer before pondering why the texture of the page felt different from the others. Rubbing the page between your fingers, it reminded you of the way paper sometimes crinkled or warped once dried. “Oh…” You quickly realized and then became very aware of the sudden warmth building between your thighs. An image of Steve flashes through your mind, brows furrowed together, one hand on the magazine turned to the very page you’d been eyeing while the other was wrapped around his leaking cock, stroking desperately. Stuffing the magazine back in its place, you had no choice but to feign a sudden bout of fever when Steve finally returned to his bedroom that night, knowing that he’d question the unyielding blush painting your cheeks.

“You looked through my things?”. His voice brings you back to the present. He doesn’t sound angry. Doesn’t look it either. Yet you still feel the need to clarify, “I didn’t go looking for it but yes, I found it”.

“Oh”… he exclaims sheepishly.

“Thought the girl on page 14 looked a little familiar”, you smile softly.

“You noticed, huh?”

“Sure did”

“Guess we’re even”, he reasons with a smile. “I know your little secret and you know mine”.

You quirk an eyebrow at him suggestively, “want to know another”?

He swallows before answering, “Sure”.

You lean in, tits pressing against his chest as you whisper against his ear. “I think about you when I touch myself too”.

“Christ, when did you get like this?” he groans as you wrap your hands around his wrists, encouraging his hands back up towards your breasts but instead, he wraps them around your waist, pulling you in to straddle his lap. You eagerly follow suit, repositioning your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself.

Steve watches your face as he takes hold of each end of the horizontal bar piercing your right nipple between his thumb and index finger. He pulls softly at the steel until your tender peak grows taut and your brows knit together. It’s only when he angles the jewelry with a twist that you finally let the whimper you’ve been biting back slip past your lips. Satisfied, he smirks, releasing your nipple before repeating the move on the opposite nipple and then both together, several times over while intermittently kneading your tits. “You’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, sweetheart”. His praise shoots straight to your burning abdomen but you fail to answer with words as your moans grow louder and lewder. Thank fuck you and Steve had the house to yourselves tonight because there’s no doubt in your mind that someone would have heard you by now. Your soft flesh grows sensitive to his touch but at no point does the word ‘stop’ materialize in your mind, nor do you let it, too busy arching your chest forward for more. Your eyes are pinched closed, savoring the way Steve’s shamelessly fondling your breasts, pinching and squeezing relentlessly. He’s just as enamored with the way your face contorts at the sensation of his ministrations, eager to pry as many of those pretty sounds out of you as possible.

Placing the pad of his thumb at the very center of a perky bud, he pushes down against it and into your breast, maintaining firm pressure before moving his thumb in a circular motion. The pressure combined with the sensation of the piercing trapped under his moving thumb has you keening.

“Fuck, oh god, Steve”, you mewl

“That good?”

You answer with a pitiful whimper as your fingers dig into his shirt over his shoulders. It is good. So good but it’s not enough.

“Need more--need your mouth on my tits” you plead. Steve doesn’t hesitate complying.

He begins with the right one, teasing your nipple by flicking the nub with his tongue while his fingers pinch at your left. Your fingers make their way to his perfect hair, tugging when you feel his lips close around the bud and he begins to suck. You can feel the light stubble on his chin scratch along your soft skin as he alternates between sucking and laving along each nipple and it makes you feel like your whole chest is on fire. Just when you think you’re getting used to all the intoxicating heavy petting you yelp when he takes hold of the jewelry between his teeth, tugging at it until your nails scrape along Steve’s scalp. “Ah!, Steve, it’s so—Mm! don’t stop”. A maddening amount of minutes pass and your supple flesh has grown tender with all the rosy bruises he’s managed to suck onto the surface. Tears threaten to spill as he flicks a finger against your left nipple, nail clicking against the steel bar bell, causing bolts of pleasure to course through the abused bud.

“Shit, how many messes are you going to make tonight, baby?”, he smirks

You’re equal parts relieved and disappointed when his lips and hands pause their unrelenting assault on your chest. In-between pants you reply, “what are you talking about?”

“You don’t feel that?” He asks. Following his gaze again you look down to focus. “Oh fuck”

It shouldn’t have surprised you given how good Steve had made you feel but you hadn’t expected to find that you’d soaked through your own shorts. You feel your cheeks burn when you find that your arousal’s also stained the front of his sweatpants too.

You’re trying to form some sort of apology only to be cut off when he asks, “Want me to make it all better, pretty girl?”

You nod without hesitation, standing up between his legs as he leans forward. He hooks his thumbs in the elastic of your shorts, pulling them down until they’re pooled at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your cotton panties. They’re one of your most modest pairs but that doesn’t stop Steve from eyeing your underwear with pure lust..

He turns you around before pulling you back down to settle in his lap with your back pressed against his chest. You immediately spread your legs over his thighs as he reaches for your center, his fingers rubbing along the obvious wet patch above your folds. “You’re so good for me, baby all nice and wet already”.

“Please, Steve”, you whine pathetically. “Want your fingers in me now—don’t think I can wait”

“Can’t say no to you, Angel”, he coos. Pulling your panties to the side, he spreads your slick folds apart with his fingers and the sound is subtle but too distinct to miss given how wet you were. Steve curses as he rests his chin on your shoulder, both of you watching as he spreads your glistening pussy open. He seems to match your impatience, wanting to feel you as he begins to work his middle finger into your sopping hole. “Fuck, you’re so warm” he moans and you rut against his hand in response, eager for more of that stretch as his finger works in and out of your silky walls. He adds his ring finger soon after, while his other hand comes up to pull at your nipple piercing again. “Shit, Steve – you’re really- you’re really good with your hands”, you keen as he curls his fingers against a particular spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. His long rough fingers pump in and out of your dripping cunt as you fail to hold back the string of needy moans that spill past your lips.

“Steve, I’m so close” you whine

“You going to come? Go ahead, soak my fingers”

When his thumb comes down to make contact with your swollen clit, rubbing quick circles into the sensitive bud you fall apart. Clenching around his fingers, your back arches as you spasm, crying out wantonly as your orgasm rips through you. “I know, baby I know”, he coos into your ear as he continues to pump his fingers into you, working you through your orgasm.

When it starts to become too much your hand falls between your spread legs, weakly circling around Steve’s wrist to signal that you need to stop. Pulling his fingers from your sopping core, you can’t help but still whine at the loss. You’re coming down from your high and despite how hard he made you come there was something else that was just too hard to ignore even in your blissed out state.

You reach behind to palm Steve’s obvious erection through his sweatpants. “I want you to feel good too, Steve”.  

“Baby…”, his voice sounds wrecked and it makes you want to rub your thighs together. You’d felt it begin to stiffen and press against you the first time you settled in Steve’s lap but there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s completely hard now. Your mind is swimming at just how big he feels underneath his sweatpants while your rub against it tantalizingly. You’d heard the rumors. People talked after all. He’d dated several girls and while they’d end up breaking up over several many different reasons, they all seemed to agree on one thing if the girl’s locker room gossip is to be believed. Steve was hung.

“I know you want it, I can feel you throbbing”, you tease softly. “I have an idea”, you continue, getting up from Steve’s lap before coming down to kneel on carpet between his legs.

“What’s that?”

“I want to you to fuck my tits”

“Jesus, baby you can’t just say shit like that. I’m going to cum in my pants if you do”, he says sounding pained

“Well get them off then” you counter sweetly.

“Just can’t say no to you” he laughs, raising his hips slightly off the couch as he eases his sweatpants and boxers down. This time it’s your eyes that go wide and your lips part when his cock comes into view. The rumors were certainly true. He wraps a large fist around his impressive length, pumping twice as you eye a creamy bead develop at his pink tip and slip down his shaft. “You’re sure you want to do this?” he asks, amused at your slack jawed expression. “Yes, I don’t want to go back now”, you answer honestly. You prop yourself up on your knees as you prepare to line up your chest with Steve’s cock. You’re already salivating from the view when you spit down the valley between your breasts and he groans, watching the saliva trail and glisten against your chest. You place your hands on either side of your tits, pushing them together to wrap them around Steve’s dick. Your tits are still sensitive from all of Steve’s attention but that sensation soon becomes an afterthought at the feeling of having his thick cock cushioned between them. You bounce on your knees, working him into a rhythm as his head falls back against the back of the couch with a whine, watching you through hooded eyes.

“Christ, angel, do you even realize how bad you’re being right now?”

To show that you can be far far worse you stick your tongue out in time to lick at his tip when it emerges from between your tits, maintaining eye contact with Steve as you moan at the taste of him.

“FuckfuckFUCK” he hisses, taking hold of your wrist and bringing your rhythm to a halt. He pulls you back towards the couch. “Could you lie down for me?”

You’re slightly puzzled but you get up to position yourself on the couch like he asked, on your back with your head laying against the armrest. “Like this?”

“Perfect. God, you look fucking perfect”, he growls.

Positioning his hips over your chest he slots his cock between your breasts and you wrap your tits around him again as he begins thrusting, picking up from where you left off.

“I’m not going to last much longer”, he puffs after a few minutes, sweat beading at his forehead and abdomen clenching to stave off his impending orgasm.

“You can finish on me”, you whimper in response.

“Shit, really?”

“Please, I want you to. Cum on my tits, Steve”, you moan

His release spurts out moments later in thick, hot pearly streams, the first of which manages to catch the bottom of your chin, some of it coats your throat and part of your hair just beside your neck but most of it collects on and between your breasts.

Pulling away from you and tucking himself back into his sweatpants, Steve brings a hand to your aching chest, collecting some of his release on to his index and middle fingers before smearing the sticky substance along your throbbing nipple and the jewelry adorning it.

Running his free hand through his now completely mussed hair his mind fogs with the fact that you’d just let him dirty you like this. Practically begged for it, even.

“We’ve really crossed a line”, he laughs weakly, clearly spent.

“About time”, you smile back sweetly.