#Steve baby blurb

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot

18+

(characters are high but all consensual.)

Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.

But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.

You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.

Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.

Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.

It was— it was?

“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”

You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.

You don’t know why you’d told him that.

Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:

“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”

His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.

You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.

“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”

Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.

“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”

So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.

You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.

“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.

You were still watching the boy.

Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.

“Yeah? Feel good?”

You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”

You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.

“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”

You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.

“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”

The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.

“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”

You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.

You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.

You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.

“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”

[moonstruckme]

Busybody

summary: when Steve notices your anxiety spiraling out of control, he finds his own way to help

cw: anxiety

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’d woken up with some busybody in your chest that you can’t get rid of. 

It feels like you’ve had three cups of coffee despite your four hours of sleep. You’d all but jolted awake, pre-panicked about something that you haven’t identified yet. Something you have to be forgetting, or not assigning enough importance to, surely. And the way you figure it, if your body’s going to freak out at you about being idle, you may as well appease it and hop to. 

By the time Steve cracks an eyelid, you’re thinking about what to make for lunch. Heart never having left your throat, you’ve cleaned the kitchen, baked a blackberry cobbler, tried to read a few pages of your book before giving up for fidgetiness, reorganized your portion of the bathroom cabinet, and begun a grocery list for the week. 

“Morning,” he yawns, leaning against the counter. He’s looking endearingly rumpled, a faint red line on his face from a crease in his pillowcase and his hair pressed flat on the one side. You smile at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Smells like fire in here.” 

“Morning! I made a cobbler,” you explain, not mentioning the burnt first attempt that’s smelled up his kitchen despite you opening all the windows. “Do you want some bacon, eggs, and toast for breakfast?”

Steve blinks, eyebrows rising slightly. “Uh, sure. You gonna make me some?” 

“Mhm.” You’re already taking the eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled?” 

“Yeah. Thanks, babe.” 

“No problem.” You grin, happy to be of use as you whisk his eggs with a fork, turning on two burners of the stove to preheat as you do. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he yawns. “Well, pretty good. Woke up a couple times this morning, but you were already gone. Been up for a while?” 

“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” 

Steve nods, frowning. “Sorry, honey. You didn’t get much chance to sleep the night before, either, right?” 

You hum, bacon sizzling when it hits the pan. You put the toast down in the toaster, hoping you’ve timed it right so it’ll still be warm when everything else is done. “Oh, do you want orange juice?” 

“Sure, but I can grab it.” He moves for the cabinet, but you nudge in front of him, too restless to stop moving while everything heats on the stove. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You shoot him a smile as you grab a cup. Steve returns it, but muddled.

“So between last night and the one before, how many hours have you gotten?” 

You shrug. “Not sure.” Nine, give or take. “But I don’t feel tired.” 

“Well, that’s good,” he says slowly, watching as you fill the cup with orange juice before hustling back to the stove, flitting between tasks at something approaching light speed. 

“Hey, so I was thinking,” you go on, flipping the bacon, “do you want to do some Christmas shopping today? I mean, I know you said you’re not thinking about it yet, but it can’t hurt to get a jump on things.” 

Steve yawns again, stretching his back. “Yeah, that sounds okay. Not sure I’d know what to get anyone.” 

You nod a few times. “Maybe you’ll know it when you see it.” Flip the bacon onto a plate, add more pepper to the eggs, put the bacon’s pan in the sink, turn off that burner on the stove—the toaster goes off, and you nearly hit your head on the ceiling. You jump straight up. 

“Oh.” You press a hand to your chest, laughter tripping off your tongue. Your blood thrums excitedly, like it’s finally found the outlet it's been looking for all morning. “God, that scared me.” 

“I could tell,” Steve says, eyebrows at his hairline and smiling faintly. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, good.” Your heartbeat has become more noticeable all of a sudden, a hollow ache behind your breastbone. “I’m almost done, just a sec.” 

“No rush, honey. Thanks for making me breakfast. It looks great.” 

“Of course, no problem.” You plate up the rest and spin to find Steve already there, his hand the only thing stopping you from nearly flinging the dish into the wall surprisedly. 

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, taking the plate from you and setting it on the counter. He brings his arms around your shoulders, and you wrap yours around him too, an automatic response. Steve sighs, his ribs expanding and contracting with the force of it, and you copy him mockingly. 

“Still tired, baby?” 

“A little,” he admits. “Though I can’t really complain, considering how little sleep you’ve gotten.” 

You make to pull out of the hug, but Steve tightens his grip on you, palm pressing into the midpoint of your upper back. You give in, a willing captive. 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m sorry you’re tired.” 

Steve hums, taking another big breath. “I’m good.” A pause. “Okay, you can tell me if I’m crazy, but it does smell like something’s burning in here, right?” 

“Burnt,” you admit. “I left a blackberry cobbler in the oven a bit too long. The one in the fridge is a re-do.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, don’t be. I think the smell’s clearing out anyway. Right?”

You sniff experimentally at the air. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Yeah?” he sniffs too. 

You inhale more fully, only detecting the faint remains of smokiness under the newer scent of bacon grease. 

“I’ve never had blackberry cobbler,” he says, palm beginning to coast slowly between your shoulder blades while his other arm stays firmly around your waist. “What’s it taste like?”

You perk up. “Wanna try some now?”

“No—I wouldn’t want to ruin this breakfast you’ve made me. Describe it to me.” 

It’s an odd request, but nothing you can’t manage for him. You think back, letting your tongue conjure up the memory of the last time you had it. “Well, the blackberries aren’t tangy by the time they’ve been cooked,” you tell him. Steve hums, hand solid and steady on your upper back. “And this recipe is really sweet. The dough is kind of like sugar cookie dough.” 

“Sounds good,” he says appreciatively. “Hey, do you think you can smell it?” 

“From inside the fridge?” You take your head from his shoulder to give Steve an odd look. 

“Sure, just give it a try.” He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. You wrinkle your brow, sniffing tentatively. Steve opens his eyes as if to check you’re doing it, and it’s the worry in his look that gives him away. Your bemusement gives way to fondness as you take a long breath in, filling your lungs and holding the air inside you for a few moments before emptying them. You know what he’s doing, but you’re letting him anyway. 

“Mmm, don’t think I can,” you tell him wryly.  

“No?” Steve’s smile is sheepish, well aware you’re onto him. “Do you think we should find three things you can touch, just for fun?” 

You roll your eyes at him, but inhale again as you hug him tightly. Some of the pain in your chest eases. “Thanks, Stevie.” 

“What for?” he asks, hand resuming its route between your shoulder blades. “Hey listen, I’m all about your Christmas shopping idea, but do you wanna try taking a hot shower first? It might help you relax.” 

“That’s a good idea,” you admit, peeling away from him. He lets you this time, albeit reluctantly. “Your breakfast is going to get cold.”

Steve looks at it as though just remembering it’s there. “Right, thanks. Sit with me while I eat? You could have some of that tea you like.” 

You smile at him, taking a mug and your herbal tea down from the cabinet. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” 

“You’ve got to stop thanking me, I haven’t done a thing all morning.”

[cupidsdolll]

treat

Steve’s always been a giver, in friends and family but most especially with his romantic and sexual partners. He loves to give, give, give until he’s spent and tired and sweaty. He gives until there’s nothing left to give or more importantly until there’s nothing more to take. He could be going down on someone for hours, just giving them their utmost pleasure and pulling out as many orgasms as he can from them.

Steve can’t seem to stop, his fingers almost lazily thrusting in and out of you as he just watches you. He watches your reactions, how your eyes squeeze close and your mouth stays parted as you gasp and pant.

“Oh, fuck. Please, nngh, Steve, feels s’good.” He chuckles lowly at that before going back to watching his fingers slide easily in and out. He’s been going at it for at least an hour, maybe more if he’s being honest.

He’s managed to coax two orgasms out of you already and if the tight coil in your stomach says anything, it’s about to be three. You’re hot, tired, sweaty, and raw. Your body keeps squirming every time Steve’s fingers slide inwards but the moans that flow from your mouth are breathless. You can’t decide if you want him to stop or keep going, the sting isn’t exactly all that painful really. It’s the level of pain that’s pleasurable and sends shocks all the way to your fingers. The chilled air in the room nips at your bare skin and you arch your back off the bed as his fingers brush over the small bundle of nerves that only he’s been able to find every single time.

You can hear Steve’s grunts and groans from in between your legs, and feel his hot breath fanning the inside of your thighs.

“Please, Stevie.” You don’t know what you’re begging for, all you know is it’s not enough but too much at the same time.

“Are you feeling good, honey?” His voice is laced with lust and seems to seep into your bones as you nod your head.

“Feels s’good baby. Love you.” You all but sigh as his fingers brush over that sensitive spot yet again. Your hips begin to roll against his fingers, chasing that little bubble of bliss as it grows stronger.

“Love you too, been so good to me lately. Just wanna make you feel good, you deserve all the treats.” He softly places a soft kiss on your inner thighs and you can’t help the soft whimper from the gentleness of it all.

You’ve never had someone so willing to just give head you’ve never had someone that wants to focus on your pleasure and not just theirs. It’s exciting and rewarding and you just love him with all your heart. Never once has he turned down an opportunity to lay in between your legs, or not teasingly slid his hand down your pants with the pathetic excuse of trying to warm up his hand. He just wants to treat you right and love you the way you deserve.

As your mind wanders, you finally feel the break release. Your body shakes slightly and your eyes roll to the back of your head as one of your hands grips Steve’s hair and you can faintly make out Steve’s praises. Something along the lines of how good you did and just how good you look right now. He slowly continues, allowing you to ride out the aftershocks all the while kissing your thighs softly and he takes hold of your hand in his hair. He intertwines your hands together before you whine in overstimulation and he pulls away, lips slicked with your arousal and a loving smile on his face.

He makes his way up and softly kisses your lips before muttering how he needs to clean you up, his own erection completely disregarded for the sake of your comfort.

[katyswrites]

Hi! I love your Steve blurbs sm! Can you write one for him #7 from the domestic prompts list?

Sure thing, anon! Here's some tooth-rotting Steve fluff!

Domestic prompt #7: sleeping in and cuddling the entire morning

Pairing: Steve/reader

Content: fluff, sleepy!Steve, established relationship, gn!reader, allusions to smut

You wake up slowly, softly easing into consciousness in the dim morning light. You blink groggily, glancing at the clock on the bedside table - 10:11 a.m. Good - you had purposely wanted to sleep in, reveling in a rare day off. And, it’s raining - just how you like it for mornings like these.

The early morning light filters through the blinds, a soft, dull light. The rain patters on the roof, the smell of water on grass and pavement coming through the slightly cracked window. The oppressive heat of the last week has finally broken thanks to the rain, much to your relief. You pull the covers up around you, your bare skin covered in goosebumps because of the temperature drop. You burrow further in the sheets and turn onto your other side, and let out a sigh of contentment at the sight before you.

Your boyfriend lies next to you, still soundly asleep. He’s facing you, lightly snoring with his face half-buried into the pillow. His face is peaceful, and content, unlike the nights where he’s plagued by nightmares of the past. Despite yourself, your breath catches in your throat - you could be with Steve for another hundred years, and the sight of him would still take your breath away. You take in his sleeping form, his mussed bedhead, the pattern of freckles and beauty marks the dapple his bare back and travel up his neck. 

You pull yourself closer to him, leaning over him and gently brushing some hair out of his face. He still doesn’t stir, stuck in a deep sleep thanks to being up late the night before. Part of you wants to let him sleep, but a selfish part of you wants him. That part wins out, and you start pressing gentle kisses to his neck, along each freckle. You make your way up to his ear, his jaw, his cheek, all the way to the tip of his nose.

His deep breathing halts, and he mumbles a little as he starts to wake up. He chuckles at the feeling of your lips on his skin, his eyes slowly blinking open. You pull back and lay on the pillow, your face inches from his.

“Good morning, handsome,” you whisper.

“Mornin’,” he murmurs, voice dark and gravel-like with sleep. Your stomach flips at the sound, and you pull yourself closer to him again, planting a slow, deep kiss on his lips. He kisses you back, bringing up a hand to cup your jaw and pull you impossibly closer. You smile into the kiss, carding your hands through his messy hair as you breathe him in. When he finally pulls away, he has warm, dopey smile on his face.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi.”

You place your hand on the side of his face and stroke his cheek with your thumb. He sighs, and angles up to press a gentle kiss into your palm. 

“You sleep well?” you ask, knowing that the answer can always be a bit of a tossup.

“Mmm hmm. Real well. You?”

You nod, and exhale deeply. 

“I just never want to get out of bed,” you murmur.

He smiles, and brushes his nose against yours.

“Who says we have to?”

Then he’s wrapping your arms around you and pulling you to him, gathering you to his chest. You giggle, and press your cheek to his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat. He pulls the blanket further up so it’s covering you both. You both sit in silence for a few moments, and you’re nearly lulled back to sleep by the sound of his heart, by the rise and fall of his breathing.

You snap out of it when he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, and whispers into your hair, “I love you, you know that?”

Your heart flutters, even though you’ve heard it a thousand times before. You smile into his skin, and look up at him.

“Is that so?”

“Mmm hm.”

You pull yourself further up, until you’re brushing your nose against his cheek, forehead pressed to his temple.

“Well, that’s good,” you whisper, peppering a few kisses along his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and finally, his lips.

“Because, I love you, too.”

His face softens at that, as if he doesn’t quite believe you, even though you’ve assured him countless times that you love him, more than you can possibly say. Your heart breaks into a million pieces, then swells so much you’re afraid it may burst out of your chest. But instead, you kiss him again, languid and slow, as if you have all the time in the world.

He pulls back a little and presses his forehead to yours.

“You don’t have plans today, right?” he asks.

“No…lazy Sunday. Why?”

He grins, then, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Good,” he says. Without warning, he’s wrapping his arms around you, and flipping you both, so you’re underneath him. “Because I’m gonna keep you here all day.”

He pins your wrists against the mattress, and you laugh. He starts pressing kisses to your neck, sloppily making his way down to your shoulder and sucking there, sure to leave a mark later.

“Is that so?” you ask, gasping at the feeling of his lips on your bare skin. “I dare you to do your worst, Harrington.” Then, he delves in, and you know you’re going to be in bed for a long time, your laughs turning to gasps and moans as he sets himself on having you for his breakfast.

Requests are open

domestic fluff prompts

Masterlist

Taglist: @cityofidek

[jadewritesforu]

Moon Tattoo (Steve Harrington X Reader)

Paring: Steve Harrington x Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Summary: Steve finds a tattoo on your waist and quickly makes assumptions. Leads to confessions. 

Warnings: none that I can think of; cursing

a/n: This is my first fanfic that I’m posting so let me know what you think. Also not my gif. 

“What?! You have a tattoo?” Steve said, shooting up from his spot next to you on his bed. 

“Um.. yeah I got it about a month ago.” You say while nervously playing with one of your rings. To be honest you weren’t sure why you felt nervous, it almost felt as if your mom was yelling at you and you didn’t like it. The only reason this came up after so much time is because while you shifted in bed, the small moon tattoo on your waist was revealed.  

With a calmer voice but his face still upset with his eyebrows scrunching up and almost a scared look Steve asked. “Can I fully see it?”

“Yeah sure, it's just a small tattoo, Eddie said I shouldn’t go crazy for my first.”

“Eddie?” Steve now was completely out of the bed and was even more upset than before. “Eddie knew about this before me? Your best friend?” Honestly you didn’t think it would be such a big deal. So what? I mean you have other friends and you don’t have to run things by Steve. You have your own life and can make simple decisions. It wasn't like he was your boyfriend, not that you didn’t wish he was and anyway if he was it's your body. 

“Steve, I don't see what the big deal is. Eddie went to get a tattoo and I figured why not get one too. I mean I’m 18 so might as well.” At this point you were starting to get mad. Steves’  initial reaction made sense. The shock of seeing a tattoo. Ok. Understandable. But being mad purely because someone else knew before him is absolutely irrational.

 “The big deal! Ha! Y/N you tell me everything but what? Now that Eddies in the picture that's changed right?” Steve was fuming, he’s never felt this betrayed. He always knew you could find someone better than him, someone who would actually confess their feelings but he always hoped it would be him to find the courage. 

“Steve, you're being completely ridiculous right now.”

“No, don't let me stop you from fulfilling his little kink.”

“Steve, do you hear yourself, you sound crazy.”

“Whatever Y/N, just don't come crying to me when he cheats on you like your exes’.” That was the last straw for you. Bringing up the touchy subject was out of line and Steve knew it. It barely registered to him what he was saying before it was too late. The whole mood shifted, the room feeling ten times more tense. You didn’t even respond. You just walked out ignoring Steve's’ pleas for you to stay. You couldn't even stand to look at him for another minute. You weren’t even with Eddie like that but still the way he said it like it was inevitable. Almost like he knew you weren’t fulfilling enough for anyone. That's what hurts. Feeling your own insecurities be validated. While a part of you knew Steve would never mean to hurt you, another part knew that it couldn’t have come from nowhere. Once you finally reached your car you quickly locked the doors and sped off before Steve could reach out to stop you.

You quickly and harshly slammed your car door and ran into your house straight to the phone. 

“Hey is Robin home?”

 Now you were laying on the floor of your bedroom with your head in Robins’ lap when the tears finally started to develop. “I know its stupid Robs but what if hes right? What if everyone is just going to cheat on me? I mean it's already happened twice.” 

While playing with your hair Robin said “Y/N, first off he didn’t say that exactly, and secondly those two were douchebags. That had nothing to do with you. You were way too good for them anyway. Ok? You believe you’re worthy of love right Y/N because if anyone is, it’s you.” The tears came down stronger now. Everything Robin said was just what you needed to hear right now. While deep down you knew what she said to be true it was still nice to hear it from someone else. But Robin began to panic thinking she said something wrong since she usually doesn’t really think before speaking. “Woah, Y/N I’m so sorry did i say somet-” before she could finish you cut her off with a hug.

“No, that's exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you. Now what do I do about Steve. I like him, I really like him and I hate being mad at him.”

“Just wait, trust me he really likes you too and I’m sure he will apologize. He’s an idiot but he does know when he’s in the wrong.” With that you and Robin decided to relax in your living room and watch a movie since your parents weren't home. But the time came when Robin had to leave and you didn’t want her to go. Scared that without her your thoughts and insecurities would come back and you’d just end up in a slump again. Still she had to go before it was too late so you hugged her goodbye and went to open the door to only be greeted by a nervous looking Steve with flowers in his hand and his hair all disheveled like he's been pulling on it. 

“Oh my god Steve, you gave me a heart attack.” 

“Oh sorry I was about to knock. I swear I wasn’t standing outside of your house like a creep or anything.”

“Totally convincing Steve. Well I guess I better go see you tomorrow Y/N… bye Steve.” Robin spoke while maneuvering between you and Steve; glaring at him while saying bye. It was awkward. The silence felt suffocating until Steve broke it. 

“I’m sorry Y/N I really didn’t mean anything by what I said. I was just angry and a bit hurt and I guess I just wanted you to feel the same but right after I regretted it. I hope you can forgive me. If it's any consolation I think Eddie would treat you right.” This time you laughed, really laughed. All the anger from before, gone. Through everything, he really still believed the lie he told himself and for whatever reason it really got you. Steve was more scared than confused but laughed nervously along. “Um Y/N.” While wiping the tears out of your eyes and composing yourself you breathlessly said. 

“I’m sorry for laughing. It’s just that Eddie and I aren’t together, we're strictly platonic. I mean we both like someone else.” 

“Oh.” Steves’ head instantly dropped along with the flowers in his hand now upside down. While Steve was looking down you quickly hyped yourself up to say something you never thought you actually would. 

“Fuck it. Steve, I like you. I’ve liked you since forever. Honestly, I might be in love with you.” 

“Oh?…” 

“Shit I knew I shouldn’t have said anything but it’s been killing m-.” You were cut off by Steve's soft lips slowly kissing you giving you time to push away if you wanted but that was far from it. You wrapped your arms around his neck deepening the kiss and quickening it simultaneously. “So do you feel the same?” 

“Y/N did that not clearly show you how in love with you I am?”

“Um no you might need to show me again so I’m certain.” With that Steve wasted no time and quickly lunged himself at you. Passionately kissing you. All his unsaid emotions spilled into the kiss. He then pulled away when you both started feeling light headed and peppered kisses all along your face making you giggle. 

“God I love the sound of your laugh. Honestly I’m just deeply in love with everything about you.” That's how the night ended. Not before Steve softly brushes his hand up the bottom of your sweater to reveal your tattoo. 

“You know that only makes you ten times hotter right?”

a/n: I hope the ending was good. When I write I feel like that's always the hardest. Let me know your thoughts. Thank you for reading. 

[infinite-orangepeel]

this is so hopper giving his speech at the steddie wedding. making endless dad jokes and embarrassing the hell out of both of them. i’m just imaging him saying something like:

hopper: you never think your future son-in-law is going to turn out to be the same kid you arrested upwards of twenty times when he was in high school but here i am to tell the tale—

eddie: i was also wanted for murder

hopper: don’t bring that up here please. for the love of god. you have no idea how much paper work it took for me to get your name cleared.

steve: i’m pretty sure he was arrested at least thirty times

hopper: like i said folks, you don’t get to choose family and sometimes family is your adopted gay son and his metalhead husband who spent a solid three years living on your couch—

steve: well at least now when i bail him out of jail it’ll be as my husband. i can even sign the paperwork as “mr. steve munson”

eddie: aw babe that’s so sweet

hopper: don’t push it you two

[stevebabey]

uhm shyly comes into your inbox to give a steve idea :’)

finding him so so so pretty in that stupid dark blue polo, not being able to really look at him properly. it’s tight against his chest and stomach which makes him look delicious, wanting to be devoured really. he’s simply so pretty. worst thing is: he fucking knows it. so he’s cocky about it and teasing, it’s never relenting. he loves it and honestly so do you.

(feel free to ignore!)

trying to get my steve groove back on!!! thank u for sending something nonnie!! a lil bit of shy!reader <3 just a blurb too

Steve doesn’t know it’s a favourite of yours.

One of his polos fits his chest pretty perfectly if anyone asks your opinion. It’s that nice navy colour that looks good against his tan skin, with a bold stripe of white through the middle. A little plain but classic.

It hugs his biceps snugly and stretches ever so slightly over his chest. At the right angle, you can see the definition of his pecs and it’s awfully good at reminding you of what they look like with no shirt on at all.

The thought makes you fluster a bit.

He’s got plenty of polos but this one— this is your favourite. And he’s wearing it tonight, on Valentine’s day, and now you’re not quite sure you’ve been as slick with your wandering eyes as you hoped.

Across the booth, Steve smiles at you, his lashes kissing in the corner. He reaches up to scratch at the back of his neck and your eyes zero in on the bulge of his bicep instantly.

Steve’s smiles melts into a grin, a tad wicked.

Yeah, okay, maybe he does know it’s your favourite.

You fluster again. Something nudges at your foot under the table, right as Steve says, “What?”

He’s teasing. He definitely knows what.

“Stop,” you murmur, on the side of embarrassed. “You know what.”

Steve smiles again and drops his arm, thankfully, only to fold them and lean forward on the table. It does wonders for his arms, especially in that shirt. Damn that shirt. Damn him. He’s evil.

“Do I know what?” He pretends to muse thoughtfully.

He tilts his pretty head to the side just an inch. His eyes stay locked on you, drinking up every second your flustered reaction. You’re beautiful, even more so when you get all embarrassed about liking him.

“Steve.”

“What?”

“I will not be responsible for any further inflation of your ego, thank you very much.” You mumble it as you take a sip of your soda, eyes on the table. Why is it so terrible to have him know you were leering at him?

Steve laughs loudly. He finally slides his arms back and off the table, giving you a temporary relief.

“You’re the only one who can inflate my ego, actually.” Steve counters, his brows raising. He steals a fry off your plate and chews it slowly.

You eye him over your cup, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” He shrugs, swallowing his food. He takes a sip of his own milkshake, oh-so casual when he says, “Your opinion is the only one that really matters to me anyways.”

He grins across the table at you, a more mischievous shine in his eyes.

“Why do you think I picked this shirt?”

You’re equal parts mortified and enthralled at what he’s said. In your surprise, you accidentally inhale a bit of your soda and it burns as it goes down the wrong way— you cough awkwardly to clear it. Okay, less equal, more mortified now.

It’s your turn to ask. “What?”

Steve nudges your foot under the table again, teasing and flirting all in one. His pink lips curve into that grin that makes your heart flip flop— and there’s even a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. As though he’s also endeared but embarrassed by your attention.

“It’s your favourite.”

“It’s—” You splutter and for some reason, decide to lie. “No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it’s—” You pivot mid-sentence. “Who told you?”

Steve laughs again, that big loud belly-laugh where his cheeks get all chipmunk-y cos he’s grinning so hard. When he stops laughing enough to talk, he’s reaching across the table. You’re not quick enough to pretend to avoid his hand as he snags it with his own.

“Baby,” he says. “Nobody had to tell me. I could just tell.”

Somehow when he says it like that, when he calls you baby in a voice all sticky with fondness, it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing at all.

You nudge him back under the table and sip your sofa again to try think of something to say. He knows what you look like when you love something. How terrifying. How intimate.

Another sip of soda. Steve rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, content to gaze you. His view is sweet enough he must have cartoon hearts circling above his head.

You can’t think of anything to say in the end, so you just squeeze his hand and nudge his foot again — and trust that he’ll just be able to tell what you mean.

[judeswhore]

how about a blurb where steve's girl comes into family video asking for a hug after a bad day and he practically trips rushing to give it to her?

oh ik for a fact steve wld drop everything immediately for his girl

you sought out steve the second you stepped into family video, pushing on to your tip toes to peer around the almost empty store in search of your boyfriend. you were seconds away from crying, tears already brimming in your eyes, that awkward lump lodged in your throat and after the day you'd had all you needed was the comfort of steve's arms and the steady thump of his heart to ease the ache inside of you. robin glanced up from the computer, the grin on her face slowly slipping into a frown.

"oh, hey, y/n are-"

"where's steve?" you hadn't meant to cut her off, didn't mean to be so harsh but you were embarrassed about your impending break down and in that moment your boyfriend was all you wanted.

“harrington, your girl’s here!” her yell was rather loud, startled one of the customers standing just beside the counter and your body felt hot from the attention it brought to you. it did grab steve’s attention immediately however, his head popping up over the top of one of the shelves, hair slightly disheveled. like robin, the smile on his face dropped instantly when he saw your expression, the exhausted look on your face, the obvious remnants of old tears settled beneath your eyes.

"baby," he dropped the tape in his hand with a clatter, matching the pouted look on your face as you stepped further into the store. you swiped at a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. "hey, what's wrong?" you shook your head, sniffled rather aggressively.

"can you just- can you come here? really need a hug, stevie." your voice cracked and so did steve's heart, a soft noise tumbling from his lips as he nodded, clumsily pushing the cart he'd been using out of the way. his jacket got caught against the side of it and he swore under his breath when it rattled rather loudly into the shelves of horror films. in his haste to get out of the aisles and around the counter to you he whacked his hip off the corner and almost tripped over a wire robin hadn't tucked away, wincing as pain rolled over his skin.

his arms opened immediately and you met him halfway, let him tug your body down one of the aisles and away from prying eyes before he wrapped you up against his chest. he’d turned so his back was to the customers, hiding your frame as you pressed your face into the soft fabric of his shirt, your arms circling his waist, fingers clasping a little at his back. steve’s own arms came around your upper body, one pressed flat palmed to your shoulder blade, the other gentle against the back of your head, cradling you against him and the second you were tucked away safely the tears fell.

you melted into him, let him hug you tight, his grip helping keep you steady as his thumb brushed comfortingly over the back of your head, his lips pressed into your hair. he kept like that for a few minutes, let you hold him and cry, let you get it all out while pressing the occasional kiss to the top of your head or squeezing your shoulders a little tighter. his head dipped a little lower, neck craned almost awkwardly so he could brush his lips over your ear.

“i’ve got you, baby, m’here, yeah?” he kissed your temple, strained back up and pressed his cheek to the top of your head, swayed you both ever so slightly. the ache inside of you had dulled slightly from the intoxicating scent of him and the steady thump thump thump of his heart beneath your ear when you turned your head. the tight grip he had on you kept you grounded, helped you realise you were here with him and not back having the shift from hell, helped to slow the flow down of tears that had soaked through his shirt.

as you turned your head and pressed your cheek flat to his chest his hand shifted from the back of your head and cupped your jaw, large palm warm over your cheek. his thumb brushed the tears away, soothed over your damp skin until your body completely relaxed and your lashes fluttered from exhaustion. he kissed your forehead, let his lips linger for a few seconds. in his arms it didn’t feel like you were in family video, his warmth and comfort made you feel like it was just the two of you, wrapped up in his bed, covered by his sheets, a soft tangle of limbs and it eased your heart, made it feel less heavy.

“y’wanna tell me what’s wrong?” voice soft he grazed his thumb down the bridge of your nose, smiled into your hair when you kissed his palm and then shook your head. you tightened your arms around his waist.

“can you just hold me a little longer?” steve didn’t need to answer verbally, only nodded and squeezed your shoulder, went back to the soft back and forth of his thumb over your cheek. he knew he needed to work, the shelves wouldn’t organise themselves but nothing, not even his job, would come before making sure you were okay.

[wroteclassicaly]

Best-friend!Pervy!Reader and Bestie!Eddie, whom is getting so annoyed with you talking during his campaign planning, that he swats your ass a little too hard (you always slap each other’s butts), and you moan. It causes a chain reaction that ends up in you being over his knee and staring at a carpet full of his nasty magazines, babbling about how you want him to do all of that stuff to you. You do, however, get some teasing of your own in.

“Go look in my bag. I brought something I was gonna use in your bathroom when I took a shower.”

When he brings the vibrator into his sights, his eyes widen. “Wait — is this… One of those toy things?”

“That it is.” You’re smirking as he shifts, clearly growing in discomfort, in more ways than one.

“And you were gonna make yourself at home with it in the bathroom I share with my Uncle? The man you look at across the dinner table four nights a week?”

“After I stole a few of your shirts to hump first, that is also correct.”

You’ve never seen the metal-head, motor-mouth so slack jawed and speechless. Until he he says, “You better fuckin’ show me.”

~*~

“Fuck, sweetheart. No, slap yourself with it harder.” A groan of appreciation, before a deep huff of annoyance. “I fuckin’ said — HARDER!” And he has to force his impulses to stay in control, to not overstep and do it himself.

When you struggle to slap the pulsating end of the buzzing toy to your swollen clit, overly slick, you see Eddie completely drunk on you from his palm to chin position, between the plush of your thick thighs. He’s trying to communicate a want without the desire to cross a boundary. You melt and choke on a gasp of excitement, before you level off your ballooning heart rate with a statement.

“Help me, asshole!”

Rings clink, air is inhaled so sharply that you’re surprised he doesn’t choke. The warmth fans across your cunt, making you arch, your embarrassingly soaked pussy leaking into your ass, causing your cheeks to stick when you move. Eddie’s day old washed curls tickle your calve. Shaking fingers are explorative, hesitant, tickling the creamy curls that have matted above your clit. He dips in seconds later, spreading your lips into a typical V.

Firm, confident direction is given next. His lust clouding his usual demeanor. “There. Like —“ He wraps his spare hand around yours over the toy, bringing it down with a strong, sopping wet smack. You both moan out, his getting caught on the sentence’s finish, “— this.”

[harrywavycurly]

In the spirit of Valentine’s Day can you imaging working on a love potion for WEEKS making sure it’s perfect and that it’s going to make Steve Harrington fall madly in love with you but you made sure to tweak it a little so he’s only slightly obsessed with you and not too clingy.

But when the day comes and you put it in his morning coffee that he ALWAYS orders at Benny’s where you’re a waitress, you feel your heart drop to your ass as you panic as the long haired metal head Eddie fucking Munson reaches over and steals Steve’s coffee finishing it off in a record breaking amount of time so even if you wanted to reach over and grab it from him you wouldn’t have had the chance.

“Oh fuck…” is all you’d be able to mumble making Steve and Eddie both turn their heads to look at you but Steve’s look is one of confusion while Eddie’s is one of adoration letting you know your potion has already kicked in.

“Holy shit you’re….you’re…the love of my life.” Steve’s eyes would go wide as Eddie practically falls out of the booth in an attempt to get closer to you.

“You…know her?” Steve’s voice would be laced with confusion as he turns away from Eddie and back towards you as you begin to slowly walk backwards towards the kitchen.

“Nope but that’s not important.” Steve would roll his eyes as Eddie finally gets free from the seat and stares into your eyes and you can tell by the slightly pink tint to them that your potion has officially made its way into his bloodstream.

“Dude do you even know her name?” You’d glance down at your name tag that’s attached to the collar of your work shirt hoping Eddie would follow your gaze but of course he’s too busy staring at your face.

“Stop asking me stupid questions Harrington and let me just…enjoy this.” You’d run a hand over your face as Eddie takes a step closer to you resulting in you taking two steps backwards away from him.

“I don’t think she’s interested.” Eddie would take a brief break from looking at you so he can send a hard glare to his friend who’s watching you try to escape into the back of the diner.

“She has to be.” You’d pause your movements as Eddie looks back towards you. “I…love you.” As the words slip out of his mouth you’d feel like your world is spinning out of control as you look over at Steve who is getting up out of his seat so he can place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Come on man…let’s just go.” Steve’s voice is soft as he tries to pull Eddie away towards the door.

“She has to love me.” Eddie’s voice is full of hurt as his face contorts as if the thought of you not loving him is actually causing him pain.

“I…I’m…so sorry.” Eddie’s head would just drop as he lets Steve pull him away towards the door as your words hit his ears.

“Love fucking sucks man.” You’d hear Eddie mumble making Steve just nod as the two of them leave the diner allowing you to finally process everything that just happened.

“Now what?” You’d ask yourself as you run a hand through your hair trying to think of ways to fix this situation but you know to come up with an antidote will take weeks and you didn’t think this would happen so you didn’t bother making one at the same time you made the potion.

“Uh you get back to work?” Benny’s deep voice would snap you back to reality as you just nod and reach over and grab the empty coffee cup off the table the two boys were just sitting at. As you stand up you’d catch a glimpse of Eddie getting into Steve’s car, his eyes staring into yours as he gives you a small smile and a wave having already forgotten about being upset with you not even two minutes earlier.

“He’s…kinda cute.” You’d think to yourself as you wave back at him making his smile grow bigger before Steve honks his horn making him roll his eyes before getting into the car. His eyes never leave yours as Steve backs out of the parking spot and you watch Eddie turn in his seat so he’s looking back at you as Steve slowly turns out of the parking lot.

[stevie-petey]

Can we get a blurb where Steve gets like really jealous?

Idk personally I’m a sucker for angst and jealousy and pining

anon i love ur lil brain yes of course we can get some jealou steve, especially when he doesnt even have a clue hes jealous LMAO

enjoy <3

"you guys are really close, huh?" steve sometimes forgets just how intertwined jonathan is within your life.

the photo of the two of you, smiling at the camera with jonathans arms wrapped around you as if you were made to fit within them, stares back at steve. theres something different in your smile, a certain glow to you that he has long since come to associate with jonathan.

you light up around the boy, genuinely and truly happy whenever hes around, more than steves ever seen you with anyone else.

jonathan byers is your person, and steve forgets how poignant the reminder can be.

he wonders if one day he'll ever be the reason you smile so widely at a camera with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. he hopes one day he can be, but luck has never been on steves side.

he never seems to get what he wants, in the end.

there are other little reminders of your relationship with jonathan scattered throughout your room. steve can see a jacket draped over the back of your desk chair, one far too big and worn to be yours. there are more photos on your dresser, some of just jonathan or others with you, jonathan, and your brothers all laughing together. theres a framed drawing on your desk, with a a bunch of tiny figures fighting off a dragon, and something tells steve that dustin isnt really an artist and that somehow, he knows its will who has drawn this for you.

steves eyes flicker back towards you and and there, resting delicately upon your neck, he sees a small pendant of a bee. steve, ever since you started wearing it, knows that this is your way of proudly displaying your love for the boy.

wholly and unabashedly.

something stings within steve, then. seeing how unashamed with your love for others, how much of it you give out so freely.

hes always known you love jonathan and that your love for him is like no other, but seeing it so proudly displayed leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

he wishes someone loved him like that.

he wishes you loved him like that. without any hesitancy involved, without any unsaid truths and disguised lies.

steve wishes, more than anything else, that one day he'll be able to finally know who you are. to see in between your lines, to have you wearing something of his, to one day crawl through your window and know that hes coming home.

for now, steve grabs the pillows and blankets and makes a bed out of the bean bag hes been given. he knows, once the two of you go to bed, that he'll have to finally confront you about it all.

he just hopes he doesnt fuck it all up with you again.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Emmy 🌸

Can I get a smutty little blurb of us and bestfriend!steve spooning in bed and it gets a little handsy😇 dry humping is underrated.

leighanne leighanne leighanne 🧡

18+

It was inevitable, really.

Too many nights sprawled in Steve’s bed, a movie forgotten on his television screen, the sun dying behind the houses across the street, sleep tugging at you both.

It was inevitable, really.

Too many hormones, too many close calls, too many what ifs? Too many glances at lips, too many jokes that suddenly sounded more serious than the week before.

You woke up with Steve curled around you, the TV dark static, the credits long rolled. It wasn't anything too out of the ordinary, bodies pressed together, your back to Steve’s chest, a heavy arm thrown over your waist and his nose pressed into your hair, his soft breaths telling you he was still very much asleep.

You would’ve slipped back into it too, if you hadn’t shuffled slightly, adjusting yourself against the boy and the pile of pillows around you, the stray popcorn kernels that had missed both the bowl and your lips.

It was inevitable, really.

You felt it then, hard and insistent, impossible to ignore - pressed against the small of your back. Steve’s sweatpants did little to hide it, the thickness, the length, the heat. You gasped, eyes wide, more awake than before and you knew it was wrong, you knew you shouldn’t have done it. But it was inevitable.

Wasn’t it?

You rocked backwards, feigned shifting in your sleep until your ass rocked against your best friend’s cock and it fit snugly against the curves of you. Bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, felt it rattle your ribs, felt it shake the bed frame and when the boy didn’t stir, you did it again.

Hips rocking, shifting ever so slightly, ass moving up and over Steve’s cock, eyes slipping closed, squeezing shut and lip parting in a silent gasp when the head of him caught the seam of your folds underneath your flimsy shorts.

Steve sighed in his sleep, a husky, low moan and his hips canted forward to meet your own, eager, wanting. Right there, right on your clit, the perfect nudge, just right there—

“Shit, shit, I’m— I’m sorry, I— fuck—”

Steve woke, voice rough and sleep slurred, moving too slow, his brain barely catching up with the situation but you felt awful at the embarrassment you heard in his words and he made to move away, a little clumsy as the mattress dipped, his arm dragging from you waist.

You wanted to whine, you wanted to beg. So you caught his hand instead, kept it on your waist until the heat of it made your bones turn softer. It was easier to talk if you kept facing away from him, your cheek pressed to the pillow, your ass still popped out enough for the tip of Steve’s cock nudge against the swell of it.

“Stay, Steve.”

You heard the boy gulp, swallow tight and sharp, his hand flexing on your ribs. He paused, maybe to check if he was awake, maybe to check if you were. “What?”

“Keep going,” you whispered. “I don’t want you to stop.” You swallowed too, licking your lips nervously, suddenly terrified that this was the wrong thing to do. “You can keep going, if you want.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he lay back down, closer than before, close enough for you to feel his lips on the back of your neck when they parted. His hand gripped your waist, fingers flexing over you until your shirt - his shirt - gave way and his touch found your skin.

“Yeah?” He whispered and his voice was rough, but so much more awake than before. His cock twitched, seeking out your heat, already leaking in his too tight boxers. “S’okay?”

You nodded, body burning, eyes focused on Steve’s closed bedroom door, waiting with enough anticsorion to make your head throb, hoping he’d make a move. “Felt good,” you told him.

You felt more than heard his soft “fuck,” breathed against the nape of your neck and before you could say anything else, Steve moved, all experimental, his hips rutting against your ass, his cock pushed between your cheeks, rubbing himself there.

“Shit,” he groaned, head falling forward until it rested against your shoulder. “Tell me if you wanna stop, okay? Just let me know—”

You shook your head, cutting him off with a plea. “Steve—”

The way you pushed back against him told the boy everything he needed to know. “Christ,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He didn’t know where to look, the room just lit enough for him to glance down and see his cock nestled against your ass, a damp patch already spreading on the front of his sweats. “Say my name again, fuck, say my name like that, please—”

“Steve,” you complied, whiny and breathless and trying so hard to keep quiet. The dark gloom surrounding you both made it feel all the more forbidden. You took his hand from your waist, dragged it slowly enough for him to reject you if he wanted, your fingers tangled with his as you guided him towards your tits. “Steve, please, touch me.”

You didn’t need to ask again, Steve groaning low in your ear, his teeth scraping at your jaw as his big hand grabbed the cup of your bra, pulling it down so he could get his palm over you, squeezing roughly and soothing finger over your hardened nipples. He pulled at it, humped against you a little faster when you moaned into his pillow.

“Could come like this,” Steve whispered, nose knocking against the crown of your head as he moved closer, swearing into your hair when you lifted one leg and draped it over his, his cock slipping down to slot between the folds of your cunt, the dampness there making it easy for him to feel you beneath your shorts. “Gonna come like this, fucking hell, that okay? Shit— that what you want, babe? You wanna make me bust in my pants?”

You groaned, a hand thrown back to fist in Steve’s hair, pulling at him until he mouthed at your neck, more teeth than lips, nodding frantically when the head of his cock nudged up against your clit, rubbing through your folds.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Jesus Steve, yeah, m’gonna come too, don’t stop—“

That was inevitable too.

[moonstruckme]

+quick idea!

what abt fuckboy!james/fuckboy!steve who’s so used to the idea of girls wanting to stay after they sleep w him, but with you, he wants to stay. you get up to leave and get your clothes on before he’s making up dumb excuses and whining with his little puppy dog gaze all like “well you don’t have to leave :(“

and ur just there smirking and trying not to laugh before u climb back in bed w his little clingy self

Thanks for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 699 words

Steve looks nice when he’s relaxed like this. There’s no carefully curated uptilt to his lips, and the muscles around his eyes are at ease, finally free of that dumb, smolder-y squint he does. You would've never denied that Steve is handsome, but he actually looks quite pretty when he’s not trying so hard. His face has gone soft against his pillow, limps plump and skin golden in the buttery morning light streaming through his curtains. 

You don’t intend to stick around to see that softness melt away. You’re quiet and efficient in changing into the clothes you’d worn the night before, leaving your shoes off for now so your steps remain soundless on Steve’s bedroom floor. You find some mouthwash under his sink and decide that’ll have to do in lieu of brushing your teeth for now, fixing your hair and double-checking that there’s no makeup leftover under your eyes before exiting the bathroom. 

Steve’s sitting up in bed. 

“Morning,” you greet him. 

“Morning.” He stretches, arching his back until it cracks. He tilts his head as his eyes focus on you. “You’re already dressed?”

“Yup.” You sit down on the edge of the bed to put your shoes on. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.” 

“No problem.” He’s doing that stupid eye-squint thing again, albeit a more dulled, tired version, as he rakes his gaze showily up your body. It’s work to not roll your eyes. “I hope you had a good time.” 

“I did,” you confirm, finishing the knot on your second shoe. You stand. “Cool if I leave the front door unlocked on my way out, or did you want to follow me and lock it?”

Steve’s eyebrows cinch, and the squint takes on an unfamiliar nature. “You know, I’m not the type of guy to kick girls out first thing in the morning. You can stay for breakfast, if you want.” 

You give him an appeasing smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got food at home.” 

He sits up straighter, covers slipping down to reveal the waistband of his boxers. “Don’t you need a ride or something?”

“I can take the bus.” 

“Well, I could drive you if you’d just give me a second to get up.” 

“Steve.” You don’t bother hiding the bemusement from your expression. “I really don’t mind taking the bus.” 

Steve pauses with one leg out of the bed and one still in, and you let your gaze linger on his naked thigh for just a moment before forcing your eyes back up to his face. It’s as confused as you imagine yours has to be, but you could almost swear the look in his eyes is tinged with hurt. “What’s the rush?” he asks you. “Do you have somewhere to be or something?”

“No,” you answer with a shrug. “There’s just no point in me sticking around here, and I figured I’d get out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair.” 

“I’m not?”

“No.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, one side pressed flat from being smushed against his pillow. You sort of want to stick your fingers in there and ruffle it. “It’s not…you’re not bothering me, or anything.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s good.” 

“Just—” Steve blows out a breath. He seems puzzled, and he also seems like being puzzled is frustrating for him. This doesn’t feel like the insouciant, self-possessed boy who’d led you into his bed the night before. “You don’t have to rush out. You could stay for a little while.” 

You cock your hip, giving him an appraising look. “And do what?”

“I dunno,” Steve says, and it occurs to you that he really is at a loss. He doesn’t seem used to having to ask for people to stay. “We could have breakfast, if you want. I could make you an omelet.” That squint is back, like this should be enticing to you.

You huff a laugh but set your bag down, heading for the kitchen. “Steve Harrington, I do not believe for one second that you know how to make an omelet. How about you show me where the supplies are, and I’ll cook us something good.”

[cupidsdolll]

sweater

It’s not your fault, honestly it’s not. How were you supposed to know it was supposed to be so cold tonight? It was just warm a couple of hours ago, the chill in the air at night normally isn't too cold. Just cold enough to have to wear long sleeves whenever you decide to go out when the sun is setting. As you and Steve walked along the street, his arm wrapped around your shoulders loosely and soft smiles shared between the two of you, a gust of wind blew against your skin and caused you to shiver slightly.

You can hear Steve huff lightly before he wraps his arm around you tighter.

“You never can remember a sweater, can you?” He asks with just a hint of amusement in his words.

“Not when I have my own personal heater with me.” You reply casually and shrug your shoulders. Steve’s almost always warm, so you never bother to honestly. It’s been something you’ve always done with him, whenever you got cold and he was around, you would just worm your way into a hug or snuggle into his side just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body.

He makes an exaggerated huff before he pulls away long enough to slip the yellow sweater over his head and hand it to you.

“Steve! I can’t take this!” You protest but he shakes his head.

“I’m a heater, remember? Why do you think I always bring a sweater with me whenever we hang out?” He asks and nudges your shoulder.

[katyswrites]

Could I request 20 on the autumn prompts with Steve please? 🧡

Sure thing! I love an excuse for a spooky prompt. This one got weirdly angsty, but lots of fluff too. Enjoy!

Pairing: Steve Harringing/fem!reader

Prompt: “Please tell me that’s fake blood.”

Warnings: angst, fluff, fem!reader, allusions to smut, Steve needing a hug

Request autumn prompts here

You stand in front of the mirror, stepping back for a moment to admire your work. You usually went all-out for Halloween, and this year is no exception. A tiara sits atop your head, slightly askew. The long, once-white gown stuck to your skin, sticky thanks to the homemade fake blood that you had poured down your front. You had prayed the concoction would work, fervently mixing the corn syrup and food dye over your kitchen sink that afternoon, carefully drizzling it over your bare shoulders and dress and hoping it didn’t look ridiculous. Now, with it all put together… it’s perfect.

When your boyfriend had asked what you were going to be for Halloween, you had simply smiled slyly, and said it’s a surprise, Stevie. You had already agreed on a couple’s costume for Halloween weekend, opting to go out partying as Maverick and Charlie - you and Steve had gone to see Top Gun on your first date, and he swore to you he’d make it happen one day. But, tonight was different. When Robin said she was throwing a girls’ fright night, you couldn’t say no - she promised lots of snacks, cocktails, scary movies…and none of the guys allowed. 

And that includes Steve,she had said. I love that dingus, but he has enough fun as-is.

Costumes mandatory, drama encouraged Robin had said when she invited you. It still makes you laugh to think about, because it’s so Robin.

Hence, you’re standing drenched in fake blood and a prom dress in front of your mirror, feeling pretty proud of yourself - Robin is going to freak. She’s such a horror movie buff, she’s going to be mad that she didn’t think of this costume first.

You’re so focused on finishing your look, that you don’t even hear Steve approach. It’s only after a moment that you catch him in the corner of the mirror, standing in the doorway. You jump, then let out a sigh of relief, pressing your palm to your chest.

“Jesus! Steve, you scared me -”

He says nothing, and just continues to stare at you. You look down at yourself, at the gown and blood, and let out a nervous laugh.

“What, is there something on my face?” you ask playfully, taking a few steps closer to him.

You stop when you actually take him in - he’s frozen, rigid, his eyes wide. He looks well and truly frightened, in a way you’ve only seen a few times before. Your smile fades, anxiety rising in your chest.

“Hey, baby - are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He nods slowly. “Um yeah, it’s just… please tell me that’s fake blood.” 

You furrow your brow for a moment, confused, ready to laugh in his face, because of course it’s fake -

Oh.

You know well enough the nightmares that plague him, pulling him out of a fitful sleep and into your arms at night. They’re less frequent now, but still happen. He doesn’t like to talk about them, and claims he doesn’t really remember them. But you know - you know, because when they wake him, he needs you. Needs to hear your voice, to feel your heartbeat, the rhythm of your breathing -

He’s not sure if this is a nightmare brought to life, his worst fear realized. And, after all of the horrors you’ve fought through together, and the amount of near-death experiences you’ve shared, it’s not that far-fetched.

“Oh, Steve,” you whisper softly, closing the distance between you until you’re face-to-face.

“It’s just a costume, baby. For Robin’s, remember?”

He lets out a shuddering breath, followed but a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, right - sorry, I just - I mean, it looks great, maybe a little too great, I just didn’t - I mean, I’m sorry if I -”

You shush him, taking his fidgety hands in yours and stopping them gently. He meets your eye, a false smile plastered on his face.

“Steve, hey - it’s okay. I’m okay, yeah? It’s just a stupid costume.”

“Right,” he says. His thumb circles your knuckles soothingly, and he takes another slow, deep breath. He looks you up and down again, and his panic gives way to confusion.

“Um - babe? What exactly are you, though? Like, a zombie bride?”

You roll your eyes.

“No! I’m Carrie!”

He shakes his head. “Um, like - Fisher?”

You huff. “Seriously? We watched that movie together, I showed it to you! We rented the video, remember?”

He thinks for a moment, then it dawns on him. “Oh! That one with the chick in the locker room shower -”

You smack his arm, rolling your eyes again. “That’s what you remember? Not her telekinesis, or the pig’s blood at prom?” 

You gesture to yourself for good measure. Steve throws up his hands in defense.

“Look, I closed my eyes through most of that shit - you know I don’t do scary movies.”

“Aw, Stevie - it’s okay, I’ll protect you, if you need it -” you say teasingly, bringing your hand to his cheek. 

“Shut up,” he whispers, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, hard and fast. You smile into his mouth, pulling him impossibly closer. He moves and kisses the corner of your lips, your cheek, your nose, before starting to travel down to your neck.

You giggle, and gasp as he peppers kisses along your skin.

“Baby, I - ah! I’m covered in fake blood, you’re - fuck - you’re gonna mess it up!”

You gently shove him away, and he’s grinning. There’s a red smear on the corner of his mouth, and you move to wipe it away with your thumb.

“But,” you add, continuing to clean his face, “When I get back - I’m going to have to take a nice, long shower to get all of this off.”

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye then.

“Is that so?”

“Mm hm,” you say, feigning nonchalance. “So, you know… I’ll probably need help, scrubbing this off of me and all.”

“Don’t worry,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I mean, if I have to, I will, it’s only the right thing -”

You shut him up with another kiss, and you feel him smile. Suddenly, as much as you adore Robin, you don’t want to leave at all.

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington,” you whisper.

“An idiot who has a smokin’, spooky-lookin’ girlfriend,” he shoots back.

Your heart swells - Steve making you feel loved and special in his own, silly way never ceases to catch you off-guard.

You glance at the clock above the bed, and hiss under your breath.

“Shit, I’ve got to go - but, I’ll be back later, yeah?” He grins. “Oh, don’t worry - I’ll be waiting.”

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[cerise-angel]

i've been saving all my summers for you

steve likes to see you in the sun and sea, with your swimsuit clinging to you like he would like to. your eyes closed and mouth tilted upwards, enjoying the sunshine. you notice his staring and snap your eyes open, catching a hint of his blushing cheeks. you smile and he smiles back. when you hug him, steve smells like summer, warm and pink under your hands. he tastes like fruit punch and you cant stop licking his lips. he pulls you closer to him, dropping himself and you into the lukewarm water. his arms are strong around you lifting you up for air, before stealing it with his mouth.