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#steve harrington is a material girl
alexjcrowley · 2 years
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I like how, despite the edgy apperance, Eddie is this kind ray of sunshine who listens to metal all the time while Steve, despite the preppy appearance, has a master in Death Glare while listening to, i don't know, Madonna I think.
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sinnabarmoth · 1 year
Conversation
Eddie: If vampires cry blood then that means that we can assume that all of their bodily fluids are also blood
Eddie: So if a vampire orgasmed we can safely say they are just shooting blood out their dick
Steve: Eddie, do you take constructive criticism?
Eddie: I'm cash only
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charleslucid · 2 years
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Headcanon that Steve cannot whistle. So of course this leads to Billy (who is a master a whistling) to whistle whenever he can just to piss Steve off.
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usedtobecooler · 5 months
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it’s simple and it goes like this | steve harrington x reader
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a/n: thank you in advance to anybody who reads this little labour of love, i’ve had such a great time writing this one and i’m so proud of the finished outcome. title from i’m in love with you by the 1975. 6.1k words.
tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, reader uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, piv sex, oral f receiving, creampie, soft sex, dirty talk. intoxicated characters, admission of feelings, angst and fluff. characters ages are around mid-late twenties.
summary: turning down a ride from your roommate and brotherly figure, eddie munson, in favor of staying behind at a christmas party ends in you finding an unexpected escape in steve harrington. a drive home and copious amounts of flirting later, the night unfolds in passion and letting out unspoken feelings, leaving you to grapple with the consequences of the choices made.
Staying behind at Jon and Nancy’s Christmas party had been a mistake, and only now, inhaling nicotine into your lungs without a clue on how to get back home, did you realize the weight of this mistake and how badly you wished you could rewind to an hour prior when you had a guaranteed ride.
Eddie offered you a ride home when he was heading out, which you declined immediately. His girl, Heather, really wasn’t overly keen on you, and would do anything to make the journey home as painfully awkward as possible.
You and Eddie had lived together for a few years now, the bond between you both knitting together so tightly, transcending more than just shared rent and somebody to talk to at night. He became your confidant, and you his, finding comfort in each other in a way that could only be described as a sibling bond. As much as you loved him, would do anything for him, he wasn’t for you, and you weren’t for him.
Eddie was just trying to look out for you tonight, be protective in that typical brotherly way, and make sure you got home in one piece.
You mentally kick yourself for being a moron and placing your discomfort at sharing a closed space with his girlfriend above your safety.
Standing outside as the rain starts to pelt down and seep into your skin, you’re regretting your decision. Heather was an ass, but dealing with her for a twenty minute car journey would’ve been favorable over standing outside in freezing temperatures, getting soaked to the bone.
You stub out what’s left of your barely lit cigarette, crushing it under the heavy weight of your Docs. You scan the deserted street for any sign of life, only for whatever forces that are in charge to offer you some form of rectitude — Steve Harrington’s car hums in the distance, lights illuminating the otherwise empty road.
The Beemer rolls up, Steve’s arm flexing as he rolls down the window, “Need a ride?”
Steve’s eyes are hazy, a flash of mischief shining in the dark honey hues — he’d spent the majority of the party with Eddie, the pair of them suddenly the best of friends after years of teenage hatred. He’s so high, you can smell it on his expensive jacket. 
Eddie’s disappointed face flashes through your mind, but the heavy material of your own jacket clings to your body, soaked through from the pelting rain. Fuck what Eddie would think, getting in Steve Harrington’s car beats whatever was going on out here.
“Yeah, thanks,” you mumble, a sharp little smile on your face as you round the car, sliding into the passenger seat. The door slams shut and you’re suddenly cocooned in familiar scents of leather and Steve’s cedarwood cologne. It’s painfully comforting.
The engine roars to life once more, and Steve makes off down the street without another thought. You pretend not to notice how his eyes hardly leave your soaked frame as you drive on.
The car purrs as you drive down the quiet streets, the unspoken tension between you both sizzling as Iron Maiden plays softly from the speakers. Eddie really made sure Steve saw all parts of him when they began hanging out, and Steve took to Eddie’s music tastes painfully quickly. 
“What’s the story then, princess?” Steve grins, finally breaking the silence, “Turning down a ride with Eddie for a nicotine break was a little silly. It’s freezing out there, you’d have caught your death if I hadn’t shown up.”
“My knight in shining armor,” you deadpan, sighing quietly and cringing when you catch yourself being a little rude, “sorry, uh. I didn’t wanna be a third wheel, Heather and I, we don’t get along at all.”
Steve chuckles quietly, “She’s a bitch.” 
“She’s such a bitch,” you agree with enthusiasm, finally turning slightly in your seat to face Steve properly, “I dunno what the hell Eddie sees in her.”
“Big boobs,” Steve shrugs, making a face when you hum in disappointment under your breath, “fair point, though. Can’t blame you for wanting to avoid that situation. Still, I can’t believe he left you there like that.”
There’s a beat of silence, your cheeks flushing hot. Was Steve being protective?
“I saw you dodging advances from a certain somebody tonight,” Steve wiggles his brows, cutting the tension quickly, “what’s the deal? He not doing it for you anymore?” 
You groan, rolling your eyes as you slump back into your seat, “I’m not in the mood for Brad’s games, y’know? He’s so hot and cold.” 
“Games, huh?” Steve grins, eyes landing on you for a moment, flirty and devastatingly attractive, “Maybe you’ve just not found somebody yet who plays the right ones.” 
You flush hot, heart practically beating out of your chest, because this is clearly the weed talking. Steve hadn’t flirted with you since that one time in sophomore year, when you’d come back from Summer break and had blossomed enough for the one and only The Hair to find you worthy of his time.
“Smooth, Harrington,” you choke out eventually, spluttering on your own saliva as you struggle to get the words out, “your list of admirers is endless, do you use that line on all the girls?” 
“Well, maybe I’m looking for somebody who can keep up.” Steve passes a lingering glance over your body, only to look away and avert his eyes back to the road before you can say anything further.
Over the years you had known him, you and Steve had shared stolen glances and cryptic smiles. Gravitating towards each other in Eddie’s absence, but never taking that next step. Steve had a list of conquests, and it pained you to admit every last one hurt to watch – somehow it pained you more to admit how pleased you’d become when each of them left just as fast.
You both knew that these were dangerous waters to tread, how protective Eddie could be over you was enough to have Steve keeping you at arms length, his respect for Eddie was too great to push it further. Yet here you were once again, sharing a confined space and feeling an aura of comfortability that couldn’t just be ignored until it went away.
The rest of the journey passes in silence, and all too soon Steve is pulling onto the dirt track towards the trailer you and Eddie share. The place is still in darkness, and you have to suppress an eye roll – Eddie was hardly ever home overnight now, too used to shacking up with Heather in her apartment in town.
Steve cuts the engine, slapping a hand down on his jean clad thigh, “I’ll walk you to your door, it’s creepy as hell out here in the dark.” 
He shudders for emphasis, and before you can protest and tell him you can manage on your own, he’s out of the car and rounding the trunk to open your door for you.
“Thanks, Steve, you really don’t have to.” You insist, stepping out of the car and internally cringing as your boots squelch in the thick mud where the tyres of Eddie’s van typically embed themselves.
“It’s okay, wouldn’t wanna risk something happening to you,” Steve says, a hand coming out to just barely touch the small of your back as you struggle like bambi on ice in the slippery mud, “here just – just take my hand.”
Steve extends his hand out and you take it with a slight hesitation, your need to make it to the front door without being soaked in rain and mud outweighing the heavy feelings sitting in your chest. 
It’s almost frightening how normal it feels, to have your hand clasped with Steve’s as you walk the short path to the trailer. You don’t want to know what that means, but it feels so nice, the way Steve’s large, warm hand encapsulates your own has your head spinning.
You have to, albeit sadly, let go of Steve to fish in your jacket pocket for a front door key. After a fight with the lock, the door swings open, the warm heat so inviting that you basically barge through the doorway, tugging Steve in with you without thinking.
Steve gawps a little, flounders from where he stands as you lean over his large frame to shut the door behind him, toeing off your shoes like you would any other night. When you finally take a moment to realize what you’ve just done, so casually, you’re suddenly aware of the slight crackle of tension, the magnetic pull of your bodies as you shuffle close together.
You guide him further into the house, flicking on a lamp that’s perched on a nearby table, illuminating the room with a soft, warm glow. Losing your jacket and throwing it haphazardly on a random surface. 
Everything seems to narrow with each step, pulling you both as close together as possible with each passing moment. Neither of you pull away, either, walking as tightly together as you can manage in the small space. 
“You want a drink or something?” You ask, trying to keep yourself as nonchalant as possible, schooling your voice as you cast a sidelong glance at him. 
Steve grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes, as he gently declines the offer with a shake of his head, "As tempting as that sounds, princess, I spotted a little note from Eddie saying he'd be back soon. Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome and have him play a game of twenty questions.”
Your confused gaze follows his where he nods over your shoulder, and sure enough there’s a scribbled out note on the pin board hung up the wall;
BE BACK SOON SWEETHEART, DONT LOCK ME OUT!! 
You really do roll your eyes this time around, mentally sticking the middle finger up at the fucking note. You walk back and lean on the dining table, crossing your arms over your chest. You can’t pretend that you don’t notice Steve’s gaze never leaving your body, watching your every move as you shuffle around. 
He looks disappointed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. You dare to fix your own stare on him from where you’re perched, can’t ignore how he so naturally hovers towards you despite the rejection. Like he wants to do one thing but is saying another, trying to be the good guy.
Steve was a good guy.
In the closeness, the push and pull between you and Steve becomes devastating. The air is thick with unspoken admissions, and whatever sort of invisible barrier you had between you both begins to fade as you float into each other's space once more. 
With a nod of his head towards the door, Steve finally breaks the silence. "Guess I should get going, huh?" 
The words hang in the air, a question and an invitation, leaving you to decide which it’s going to be. The doorway goes out of focus, blurs as Steve inches closer to you and further from it, the silent tension lingering in the air – an unanswered question.
A soft smile plays on your lips as you respond, "You could stay, you know? We could… hang out." 
You offer with some sort of nonchalance, despite how your heart hammers in your chest, and it hangs with anticipation as you hold his gaze, leaving the choice in the hazy space between lingering and leaving.
Steve sucks in a slow breath, his eyes flickering between yours and the curve of your lips. You shiver visibly, and in that fleeting moment, Steve inches a fraction closer. It's a subtle movement, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes.
Up this close, you could really marvel at just how gorgeous Steve is, his tan skin flecked with beauty marks and moles, dotted like constellations. You wanted to connect them all with your tongue, kiss and bite him until he was branded.
“You want to, right?” You breathe, chest heaving slightly, and you forget all about how damp and uncomfortable your clothes are, how when he picked you up you wanted nothing more than to have a hot shower and go to sleep. Now, you want everything but that. You want to see how far Steve will go, you want to know if he wants you as much as you want him.
“Eddie’ll probably be back any minute,” Steve murmurs, those deep set eyes scanning over your entire face, lingering on your lips, and the tip of his tongue peaks out to swipe along his own bottom one, wetting it, “we… we shouldn’t.”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t,” you agree eventually, voice breathy and lacking conviction, entire body vibrating, leaning into Steve just as much as he was leaning into you. Your hands grasp for the edge of the table, grounding you when you need it most, anticipation enough to have your heart hammering in your chest.
“Yeah, we… definitely shouldn’t.” Steve mimics, leans in closer, his hot breath fanning your face. He’s beautiful like this, so close that you’re going cock eyed trying to keep your vision of him clear, but his guard was rarely ever let down around you, and you didn’t want to miss a moment. 
His lips brush against yours, a pained, strangled sound coming from the back of his throat, before he’s diving in for that first mind melting kiss. 
Time stops for a moment, this fiery spark igniting between you both as fierce mouths move against one another, painfully desperate like it’s going to be over too soon, like if you stop it’ll never happen again. 
All inhibition is lost, Steve’s fingertips squeezing into the doughy flesh of your waist, somehow pushing you together even tighter, gripping you with a fierceness as your lips move together. Like he’s staking a claim — mine, mine, mine.
His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging for entry silently, which you allow him willingly with a high pitched, contented moan. He’s experimental, swiping the tip of his tongue against your own lightly, lapping until he’s pulling these little noises from you, and it has your core aching. 
The light smacking sounds of moistened lips in an otherwise void room is an almost painful reminder that this was real.
Your shaking fingertips move from the table to grip at the front of Steve’s jacket, desperate hands trying to rip at the material, because a simple kiss was never going to be enough. Now that you had him and knew he wanted you back.
“We can’t,” Steve whines, pitiful against your lips as you struggle to stop, chasing his mouth with your own in a feverish passion as he barely tries to pull back from you, “you keep making these noises, m’not gonna be able to stop.” 
You bring your hands up to cup Steve’s jaw on instinct, without even thinking about it, holding him in place so he can’t fight with himself to get away, “Want it, Steve. I want you,” you breathe, sincere and pleading, guiding him back to kiss you again and he melts into you, “wanted it since the first time you stepped foot in here. Wanted you to want me too.”
“Always fuckin’ wanted you,” Steve mumbles, those soft, fucking perfect lips brushing yours as he speaks, so desperate it’s like he can’t bare to move back any further, “you’re so beautiful, shit. Need you, can I have you?”
You nod without hesitation as Steve's hands tighten on your waist, intensifying the urgency between your bodies. The kiss deepens, a mix of desperation and desire, creating a raw, feral, and unmistakably intimate connection.
Steve's lips become a drug, setting off sparks within you, and the forbidden tension hangs heavy in the air. Breaking away, his admission of always wanting you fuels the flames, and his calloused fingertips trace over your flushed skin as he murmurs, "Wanna do that forever," he murmurs, taking a moment to lock eyes with you, before reconnecting your lips once more.
A desperate groan escapes Steve's chest, a tenor of pent-up emotion. His fingers dig into your waist and jaw, revealing the battle within him – wanting you intensely but also grappling with the fear of irreversible damage. 
Your desperation and passion counteracts his conflicted motions, hands tightly clinging to his jacket, expressing the longing and fire coursing through you. 
Steve's plea transforms into a primal growl as he pulls you closer, creating an animalistic admission of want and yearning, leaving not an inch of space between you, pressing you up so tightly against the table that your ass mounts it properly — you willingly spread your legs for him, allowing him entry so that he can slot between your thighs.
Whatever boundaries you were trying to keep are long gone.
“You’re soaking, baby,” Steve notes, the tip of his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, “you need to get out of these clothes.”
“You think you’re so smooth,” you giggle, the delicate sound pitching into a moan when Steve dips down to mouth at your jaw, “think I’m soaked in more ways than one.” 
Steve grunts against your skin, his teeth grazing against the side of your throat. He rocks his hips into your own, and you have to suppress an embarrassing sound when you feel the half hard outline of his cock press against you. 
“You gonna be a gentleman and take me to my room?” You tease, fingers traveling from Steve’s jacket and up into his hair, nails tangling in the tresses and tugging him closer. You relish in how he finally bites down on your skin properly, determined to mark you as his own.
“What if I wanna do it right here, huh?” Steve mutters, kissing over the raised, abused skin on your neck, “You want that, princess? 
You nod, just once, a deep heat pooling in your gut, and that’s enough to have Steve pulling desperately at your dress. Calloused fingertips slide the spaghetti straps down your shoulders, and you help him take you out of the offending material, shimmying until it pools at your feet.
Steve groans, low in the back of his throat as he takes in your body, now barely covered by a skimpy black thong and a lacy bra. You burn hot under his intense gaze, squealing when his large hands snake under the backs of your thighs, kneading the fat between his fingers as he hoists you back onto the table.
“Can I use my mouth on you?” Steve mumbles, massaging your thighs that you willingly spread open for him once again, a silent invitation.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter, moaning when he drops to his knees in one fluid motion, wrapping your legs around his shoulders as he goes. 
One thing that is apparent, is Steve’s love of eye contact. Touching you everywhere his body can reach, and it drives you up the damn wall. His eyes are darkened with lust as he trails hot, wet kisses up the insides of your thighs, pushing your legs apart further so he can slot his broad shoulders in the space.
The anticipation bubbles deep in your gut, cunt fluttering as he dips two fingers into the material of your panties, pulling them to the side to expose you to the warm air. You feel him squeeze you tighter, gaze moving to take in the sight of your slick pussy, ready and waiting for him.
“Mmph, she’s so pretty,” Steve moans, leaning forward in an instant to bury his face into the wetness of your cunt, running his nose over the bump of your clit as his tongue snakes out to taste you, lapping messily. 
“Steve!” You gasp his name, fingers immediately finding home in his honey highlighted tresses, sinking in and tugging lightly, pushing him closer to you.
It spurs him on, those fucking hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your inner thighs hard enough to bruise, burying his face into you deeper and grunting like you’re the best thing he ever tasted. He’s messy, lapping up and down the expanse of your core, suckling on your clit with a perfect pressure. 
“Shit, shit,” you’re basically wailing, hips rolling into Steve’s face and he just takes it, lets you guide him with your hands, moving him where you want him to go. 
He never breaks eye contact, watches you with these hazy, pussy drunk eyes as he gives you everything you want and more. Moaning into the heat of your cunt like he’s getting off just as much as you are.
“Keep doing that, m’gonna cum, haa,” you’re babbling, incoherent as your tummy rolls with sheer pleasure, Steve never once letting up on his assault with his tongue.
If anything, your words have him doubling down, pressing in so far you’re not sure he’s even able to breathe. Your orgasm hits you suddenly, violently, has you pulling on Steve’s hair so hard you know his scalp has to be aching, and you finally squeeze your eyes shut tight as you ride it out.
You know you’re gushing for Steve, making a mess of his face with the slickness that spills from your cunt, thighs shaking and locking him in tight in the aftershocks. He doesn’t let up until you’re physically jerking away, fingers running through his hair softly as your hips shudder. 
You’re barely on the same planet, unable to comprehend it when Steve rises from between your legs and kisses you deeply, feeding the taste of yourself to you. You moan, hands coming up to squeeze Steve’s face as you deepen the kiss, swapping spit and rocking against each other. 
It’d be disgusting if it wasn’t so erotic.
“You’re so hot,” Steve moans, pushing into you until the curve of his clothed cock presses tight into the cavern of your soaked cunt, eliciting breathy whines from you both, “need you now, yeah?” 
You nod, and he’s pulling you from the table in an instant.
Clothes scatter along the floor as Steve takes you to the bedroom, practically carrying you like you’re nothing. Neither of you leave an inch of space between each other as you rip his shirt over his head, tugging at the offending leather belt that keeps his jeans in place.
“Off, need them off,” you gasp, finally popping the button and burying your hand into his underwear. Tackiness on your fingertips from where the head of his painfully hard cock has been pressed tightly in the confines of his clothes.
Steve chuckles, pushes his hips into your hand and you finally get to feel him. Hot, hard, heavy in your hand — big enough that your eyes widen, and he’s burying his face in your neck to hide his embarrassment, biting at your shoulder.
“Didn’t get called King Steve for nothing,” he mutters, a red flush on his cheeks that he buries in your skin. 
“The girls weren’t kidding.” you gasp, wrapping your hand around what you can reach and tugging slightly until he’s bucking into your grasp.
You’re pushed through your bedroom door, backs of your knees hitting the end of the bed unexpectedly. You bounce back onto it, pulling Steve with you, a tangle of limbs on an unmade bed that smells vaguely of the vanilla perfume you’d sprayed earlier. 
“Couldn’t let a guy get his pants off first?” Steve grins, pulling back and looking physically wounded as he does it, to shimmy out of the remainder of his clothing.
In the soft lighting, he looks ethereal. The moles and beauty marks are everywhere, branding perfectly tanned skin, a soft tummy that just barely conceals a set of abs. He’s perfect, like a wet dream, and here he is in your room, in your bed, crawling back between your spread thighs.
“You’re so perfect,” Steve sighs, leaning down once again to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his torso rolling into yours as he steals your breath from your lungs.
It’s everything. The way you move together like you know each other's bodies perfectly, touching each other with a familiarity despite this being the first time.
A hand crawls up your inner thigh, and two deft fingers sink into your cunt, crooking up and finding that spot, running against it until you’re arching under his touch.
Your own hand crawls between your dancing bodies, wrapping properly around the length of Steve’s cock, tugging half heartedly until he’s growling into your mouth, his hips punching forward into your touch.
Time passes like molasses, it could be two minutes or twenty, until you’re both gasping and desperate. Not even kissing anymore, just lightly panting with brushing lips. 
“Want it, want you to fuck me now.” You beg, clenching around Steve’s fingers for emphasis, cunt soaked and fluttering, needing more.
Steve nods, sliding his fingers from inside of you, understanding every word and desperate plea. He clasps your hand in his own, bringing them up to rest beside your head in the nest of pillows, “You ready, baby? I’ll take it slow, know I’m a stretch.” 
You nod, any witty remark dying in the back of your throat. The want and hunger for Steve overrides any other feeling, your brain fogged with nothing but him and his body tight against yours.
Steve grasps hold of his cock by the base, head bowing so he can watch as he presses the head snug against your cunt. 
You both inhale a shuddery breath at the same time, and suddenly he’s pushing in — inch by inch filling you out. You whimper, fingers digging into Steve’s, a mewl escaping you as you push up into his torso. 
Steve looks up at you, sincere and checking in, “You okay?” 
“Keep going,” you gasp, hips swiveling.
Steve’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan, watches as his cock slides into your wet pussy like it was made to be there, taking every last inch of him until he’s nestled up against you.
You jolt when the thick thatch of hair nestled at his pubic bone catches on your swollen, throbbing clit. A breathy, panting whine clawing up from your throat.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet, princess. Not gonna last long,” Steve admits pulling out a few inches only to slide right back in, making home, “god, like you were made to take me.” 
You flush at Steve’s words, “You can– you can move properly. Fuck me like you want.” 
“Don’t say that, princess.” Steve whines, fingers gripping your hips, “You let me have what I want and I’ll never let you leave.” 
Your heart beats faster, harder, whole body alight with all these different feelings, tugging at every part of you. 
Full on Steve’s cock and holding his fucking hand. It’s heavenly.
Steve pulls out properly this time, pushing back in and creating a punishing rhythm that has you mewling and spewing out these horribly loud moans and cries for him. The head of his cock nudges at your spot dead-on with each thrust, has you over-stimulated ridiculously fast, it teeters on the right side of painful.
Your fingers dig into Steve’s skin, other hand wrapping around his bicep. A moan escaping you as he dips down to kiss and nibble at your neck, “You’re so big, holy shit. Feels so good, so good.”
“Yeah?” Steve grins at you, cocky and sure of himself and you almost catch a glimpse of the old Steve in it, which somehow makes the entire thing even sexier. One thing Steve Harrington was so sure he was good at was fucking, and you feed into his ego with the way your body reacts to him. 
Sweaty skin slapping against skin, the creaking of your bed frame under the vigorous movements. The pants and cries that flow from your mouth with every hard thrust, the grunts that rattle from deep in Steve’s chest. It’s pure filth, everything you wanted and needed.
“Y-yeah, I— I—” You stutter as your orgasm crescendos, legs wrapping tightly around his waist, heels of your feet digging into the small of his back. Nails breaking skin on Steve’s arm as you shake and shudder through it, body practically vibrating with the sheer force of it. 
“You needed that huh, princess? Needed me to pull that from you?” Steve whispers, a moan leaving him as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Fuckin’ gripping me, holy fuck.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, unable to stop how your cunt flutters sporadically for him, taking everything he gives you and then some.
“Holy shit, baby,” Steve breathes, fucked out and chest heaving, “m’gonna cum, gonna cum in your perfect little pussy.” 
“Please,” you beg, back arching and somehow pushing Steve in even deeper, eliciting matching moans of pleasure from you both, “please, please.”
“Shit – fuckin’ begging me to cum in you, you’re so perfect, shit.” He grunts, hips slamming into you as he nears the end, thrusts becoming short and snappy, rhythm faltering.
Your nails dig into Steve’s bicep, pushing your nose against his softly, ghosting a kiss over his lips, “Wanna feel you spilling in me, please? Mark me, I’m yours.” 
He moans loudly at your words, the noise so beautiful it’s like music in your ears. You’d almost be smug about being the person to pull it from him, if it weren’t for how fucked out he’d left you.
Steve squeezes his eyes shut, pushing his face into your neck as his body wracks with his orgasm. He grunts into your damp skin, cock pulsing rhythmically inside the fluttering walls of your pussy.
You can feel it so fucking strongly it’s almost hard to breathe.
It’s sticky and messy as Steve untangles his sweaty limbs from your own, landing a gentle kiss on your nose. You flush hot, burning up at how ridiculously domesticated the simple motion is.
He pulls out sloppily, flopping down next to you on the bed and hauling you into his warm embrace. It’s — it’s unexpected, so soft and sweet that you tense for a second only to loosen up and settle your head on his chest.
The air is heavy and warm in the afterglow. Steve's gaze lingers on yours, a moment shared in silence, acknowledging your mutual feelings without a single word. 
You’re leaning up to kiss him again, unable to contain it, when suddenly the bubble is shattered, the bedroom door swinging open abruptly. 
Eddie stands in the doorway, his features screwed up with a mixture of shock and anger.
"Steve, what the hell?" Eddie's scratchy voice cuts through the stillness, his eyes narrowing as they dart between you and Steve. Steve bolts upright, panicked and caught off guard, shifting uncomfortably under Eddie's intense gaze.
"Eddie, I can explain," you begin, panic rising in your chest as you sit up and pull the sheets closer around you. The atmosphere suddenly becomes charged with tension, and Eddie's expression tightens further.
"Explain? Explain what, exactly?! That my best friend is in bed with my-my – dammit dude, she’s like a sister to me! What the hell?!" Eddie's tone is sharp, a mix of disbelief and fury. Steve runs a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly searching for words that could help calm the escalating situation.
"Eddie, it just happened. We didn't plan—" Steve starts, but Eddie interrupts with a held up ringed hand.
Neither of you push it any further, words dying in both of your throats at such a simple movement. You’re so far apart by now that Steve is basically hanging off the edge of the bed, and you can’t help the way your heart feels fucking heavy with it.
"I don't care. This is not okay. I told you not to touch her, Steve. She’s not a girl to play with." Eddie's disappointment is palpable, the weight of his words hanging in the air.
The room is filled with a devastating silence, broken only by echoes of Eddie's anger and the heavy weight of his boots shuffling along the hard floor as he walks away. The trailer door slams shut so hard that the entire shell ricochets with the force. 
It all becomes so painful once Steve hauls himself off of the bed, frantically throwing on every strewn article of clothing that he’d shed just hours earlier, his head bowed like he can’t even bear to look at you. Like he’s scared and doesn’t want to face up to everything that happened.
You can’t even blame him. 
“Steve, wait,” you start, vision blurring at the edges as panic starts to set in, grappling to come to terms with the fact this was all going to be over, “don’t listen to him. He’s wrong, I know you – you don’t. You don’t do that anymore, you wouldn’t do that to me.”
“No he – he’s right,” Steve’s eyes reflect with sadness, the weight of his words lying deep in the pit of your stomach, “I have a reputation. We all know that. He’s trying to protect you, his heart is in the right place.” 
“But Steve-” 
“Eddie’s right, princess. There’s something there, I know it. But,” Steve sighs, shaking his head, “if this doesn’t work out I lose you and him. I can’t risk not having you both.” 
“Steve, will you listen to me, please?” You plead, clambering in a moment of panic to get off of the bed, sheet still wrapped firmly around your naked frame. You shuffle over ungracefully, until you’re standing toe to toe with him, “I like you. You felt it like I felt it. I– I want this.” 
You can almost see Steve’s internal struggle, the way his face crumples once he catches your teary eyes with his own devastated hues. His hands itch at his sides, and then suddenly those strong arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into his orbit and lifting you onto your tiptoes.
You wrap your arms around his middle, fingers grasping at the stretched material of his shirt, clinging on for dear life, "Steve, I really fucking like you, and I can't stand by and watch you walk away from this because of some misplaced sense of loyalty.” 
Steve’s chin rests atop your head, and you feel every bit of the deep sigh he lets out, “You trust me too much, like you know I’m not going to fuck up. I wish I could trust myself even half as much.”
Your reaction is immediate, frustration bubbling up inside of you as you listen to Steve talk down on himself, “You’ll never hurt me. You’re not some ticking time bomb just waiting to ruin everything. Allow yourself the courtesy of taking what you want and letting yourself fuck up. I’m strong enough to handle it.”
“I’ve messed up so many times in the past that I’m scared I’ll hurt you without meaning to,” Steve winces, clinging to you even tighter, cocooning you in his embrace, “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that shit.” 
You pull away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup his jaw, forcing him to face you and really soak in every word you say, “You’re fucking human, Steve. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”
Steve’s face etches with vulnerability, those damned eyes filled with hurt, but his body relaxes slightly, acknowledging what you’re trying to say, “You’re perfect.” 
Your stomach lurches, heart hammering where it sits beneath your ribcage, this pathetic grin taking over, “I promise you, I’m not. Wait until you realize just how many flaws I have — like being so terrible at cooking that I burn toast.”
Steve lets out a snort, eyes crinkling in the corners, fondness washing over him, “I’ll teach you,” he mumbles, leaning in a little, “if you’ll teach me something in return.” 
“Anything.” You breathe, pushing up to bridge the gap. Your noses brush, Steve’s hands gripping onto the soft flesh of your waist a little firmer.
Steve grins, mischievous, “Teach me how to have patience. I’ve been told it’s a virtue I’m seriously lacking, Dustin rags on me all the time about it.”
You let out a soft laugh, the tension from earlier dissipating in an instant, "Patience it is, though I’m not sure how much of it I even have. And you better be ready for some burnt toast along the way."
Steve chuckles, a low, melodic sound that sends shivers down your spine, "I think I can handle that."
He bridges the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours and sealing the agreement.
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I wanna dance with somebody
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22
Prompt: Sports
Rated: T
CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner
Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington
Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!
Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!
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It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.
“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 
“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 
She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 
Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 
Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 
There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 
The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 
“You coming?” 
She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 
“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 
She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 
*
The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 
“Oh hey, can I help you?” 
Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 
“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 
Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 
“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”
He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 
“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 
Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 
“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y��know?” 
Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 
Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 
“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 
“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 
“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 
Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 
Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 
“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 
Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 
Legs. 
And an ass. 
Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 
Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 
Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 
It’s Good Housekeeping. 
Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 
Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 
He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.
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Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
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upsidedownwithsteve · 4 months
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[2.1K] Steve Harrington x fem!reader 18+
The week following your night with Steve, you’d had absolutely no problem getting yourself off.
Every night, you lay in bed before sleep took over, your hand shoved down the front of your sleep shorts, fingers slipping clumsily and a little unpracticed over yourself, eyes clenched shut and lips parted silently as you thought about your best friend.
His digits were longer than yours, thicker, able to reach places you couldn’t, filling you up in a way you’d never felt before. But you could hear Steve’s voice in your ear as you swirled messy circles over your clit, chasing that throbbing feeling as you remembered his words.
“Has someone done that to you? Has someone put their mouth here?”
Cheek pressed to the pillow, pushing low whines into the cotton, legs spreading wider, knees hitched up as you fought to catch that feeling only Steve was able to give you before.
“Do you like it when I talk to you?”
He’d whispered it in your ear, breath warm against your cheek, hitching and gasping when you had tightened around him.
“My girl likes hearing dirty things, right? Like when I asked you if someone had gone down on you? If you’d had someone’s tongue here?”
Stomach tensing, the hook there tightening, skin too warm, the idea of your best friend laying between your thighs, your legs thrown over his shoulders too much for you to handle. Would he do it real soft for you? Would he lick over you like a man starved? Only breaking away to talk filth into your slick skin? Would he tell you how good you tasted, how sweet you were?
You came hard, back arching, a gasp leaving your lips, fingers moving until it was too much and you had to stop, sliding slick over your bare stomach as you relaxed back into the bed, butter on a hot day.
The next day, you vowed to ask Steve.
Just half a beer, that’s all it took. A few long drags, a movie that was never started, the tape half in the VCR and Steve’s bedroom lights low. Lingering looks, mussed sheets, anticipation heavy in the air like summer, a growing heat that settled on your skin and it fucking buzzed. It fizzed, it glittered.
“Did you really mean what you said?” You asked out the blue, pulling Steve from the TV set, leaning back on his pillows like you belonged there. “The other night, last week? About how it was a shame that no one had— no had ever… gone down on me.”
Steve stopped, the tape forgotten, his eyes wide as he looked at you over his shoulder. He watched the way your thighs rubbed together under your dress, a thin summery thing, delicate straps and material cut out of the sides, your skin on show between the buttercup yellow cotton. You watched him swallow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his gaze got a little darker, the words he remembered telling you coming back to him.
“Shit, you look so damn pretty, you know that? I could do that for you though, if you wanted.”
Steve cleared his throat, rose up from when he’d been kneeling in front of the television, blurry static crackling, forgotten about. His knees bumped the edge of his bed as stood over you, breath hitching as he took you in, eyes trailing over bare legs and upupup until they settled on your mouth, the way you licked at your bottom lip nervously.
“Yeah,” he croaked, his voice already shot. You looked so pretty. He remembered what you looked like when you came, head thrown back against his shoulder, crying out his name in soft, heaving gasps. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. “Yeah, yeah. I meant it.”
“Could put my mouth on you, let you know if you’re really as sweet as you look.”
“Have you been thinkin’ about it?” Steve asked, his voice sweet and soft. He smiled when you nodded, huffing out a breath like it was all too much. “Yeah? Fuck, sweetheart, so have I. Did you get yourself off, did you manage?”
He wanted to be filthier, he wanted to ask dirty, dirty questions. He wanted to know exactly what you thought about when you touched yourself. If you thought about him, if you got as wet as you had with him the week before. He wanted to know if you made the same noises in the quiet of your own room, if you whispered his name when you came.
Instead, Steve moved onto the bed, a little clumsy as the mattress dipped but he stayed by your feet, a hand reaching out to bravely curl around your ankle, your frill lined socks tickling his palm. One tug and he could spread your bent knees open for him, dragging you down his bed until your hair fanned over his pillows and he could push your thighs apart. Steve wondered if you’d let him.
Maybe he could find out.
You nodded, lips parted and already panting, barely able to form words. Steve’s thumb was circling over the skin of your ankle, slowly coasting upwards until his warm palm sat against your calf. He rubbed there too, fingers pushing at your skin like dough, all plush and soft and pliant for him. Your thighs parted, if just a little.
“Every night,” you whispered, eyes closing at his touch, the heated embarrassment creeping over your skin at your confession. You weren’t sure you were supposed to look your best friend in the eye when you told them you’d come on your own fingers, thinking about them. “Couldn’t help it, just- just needed to touch myself.”
You heard the boy groan, low and throaty, his hand climbing higher, laying on his side at your feet so you could feel his warm breath ghost over your shins. You let your legs fall apart again, inch by inch, eyes still closed until your feet slid across the sheets in opposite directions, knees parting. You felt Steve’s lips there, on the inside, at the sensitive skin, a barely there kiss.
“Did you come?”
You swore, breath hitching, nodding as you chewed on your bottom lip, hands coming up to press over your eyes, as if you could hide from him. Mortification was crawling over you, despite how Steve had had his fingers inside of you mere days before, how he’d watched you come, how he had a clear view of your spread thighs and the damp cotton clinging to your cunt, right now.
“Can I make you come again?” The boy sounded wrecked and the question made you open your eyes, gaze stuck on his like honey. “Please.”
You nodded, as if you’d ever say no to that. Like that wasn’t what you wanted.
You expected the boy to launch himself at you then, to grab and pull and kiss and nip. But as heavy as Steve’s gaze was, he moved slow, careful. His hands found your ankles again, one around each leg and he dragged them further apart, his eyes on yours. The static of the TV fizzed and outside the open bedroom window, you heard the Harrington’s sprinklers turn on.
“Lemme see,” Steve whispered, his tone that same sweet rasp as before. He nodded encouragingly when your hands found the hem of your dress, his smile soft, if not a little dirty. His chest was falling and rising faster and faster, his white t-shirt taught over his broad chest and shoulders. “There’s a good girl, fuck, honey.”
You flushed as you did as you were told, the hem of your sundress dragging up your thighs by your own hands. The material was still fisted between your fingers as you held it around your hips, legs spread obscenely, cotton underwear a cherry red, lace trimmed and with an obvious damp spot.
“Can I use my mouth?” Steve asked, murmuring, already moving between your knees, his stomach pressed to the bed. “Wanna taste you properly. Shit, can I do that? Please? Let me show you how good I can make you feel?”
You whined, high and needy, nodding enthusiastically as you sucked in a breath. “Fuck, can you? Please, Steve, I want that, god, I really want that, haven’t stopped thinking about it, imagining it, shit.”
You swore Steve’s eyes rolled at your words, his hands coming to curl around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, nose pushing at where your hands lay over your stomach, still clutching your dress. He pressed a kiss there, lips grazing over the skin under your navel.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”
You didn’t get a chance to reply before the boy was bringing his mouth down, open and pushing against your clothed cunt, tongue a hot, wet press over your folds, prodding gently until he found your clit between them. It was an instantaneous reaction, your body seizing up at the unfamiliar touch, an electric sensation, your body a livewire under Steve’s lips. He hushed you softly when you gave a weak cry, pushing at your inner thighs to keep you open for him.
He licked up your cunt, tongue dragging over the cotton, soaking it more and more until the fabric was clinging to the outline of you, until he could tease the tip of his nose over the spread of you, bumping against your clit. The noise your cunt made as he finally pulled your underwear from you was filthy, a wet sound that made his cock kick up in his jeans.
“Feel good?” Steve cooed, voice sticky with affection and awe for you. Your dress was rucked messily over your stomach, one strap sliding off your shoulder as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, bringing your bare cunt closer than before. Each word settled over your slick skin and made you twitch. “Nice, yeah? You gonna tell me, honey? Tell me how good I’m makin’ you feel, huh?”
“So good,” you breathed out, voice and words garbled between moans, your hands dropping from your stomach to clutch at the sheets on each side of you. But Steve wasn’t having any of that. He tsked, letting go of your legs only to coax your hands into his hair instead, hissing when you grabbed hard. “Fuck, Steve, please. More, please, feels so good, too good, I can’t, I--”
He wouldn’t have you begging, he wouldn’t dare. Steve wanted to give you everything you wanted, so he wasted no more time, surging forward the mere few inches it took to get his mouth back on you. Steve kissed over your cunt with the enthusiasm of a man who’d been starved of the one thing he wanted most. Lips pressed to you, tongue sneaking out to taste you, gathering up your slick only to press it to your clit. He hummed as you cried for him, eyes squeezing shut as you pulled on his hair, tugging him closer until his tongue was pushing into your entrance and his nose was nudging your clit.
He was shiny with you, mouth and chin wet and slick, eyes fluttering shut and rolling to the back of his head every time you gave his hair a good yank, your hips lifting to catch his tongue. He groaned, murmuring out pretty phrases like, ‘such a good girl’ and ‘so fuckin’ sweet for me.’
Steve lapped at you until you came, tongue soft but persistent, intent on you making you fall apart with just his mouth, groaning in want as he watched your entrance clench around nothing. He sucked and licked at your clit until you shattered, until you couldn’t take it any longer. Your back arched like last time, head thrown back into the pillows that smelled like him instead of against his shoulder, but Steve decided he liked this view just as much.
The boy tasted like you when you kissed him, half dragging him up your body as you panted, dress still messy around your waist, unabashed in your nakedness. Unlike the time before, Steve was miraculously still hard, desperate and aching under his jeans as he’d tried his best not to rut against the bed as he ate you out. Your palm grazed over his cock, smiled into his kiss when it twitched under your hand, his hips canting into your touch.
You only pulled away from his lips to press him onto the bed, switching your positions. Your dress fell back down, covering your sticky thighs and Steve was ready to protest, until you tucked your fingers around the button of his jeans and popped it open.
He let out a curse, breathing heavily, eyes half lidded and watching you. You quirked a brow, asking a silent question you were pretty sure you knew the answer to - this wasn’t a case of a friend helping a friend, not anymore.
You waited. Steve nodded.
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justmeinadaze · 2 months
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Don't Be So Hard (Steddie X Plus Size You)
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"Don't be so hard on yourself The name of the game is humiliation, And thanks for your admiration. I never thought I'd say this: The way that we play has its confrontation, And guilt by association."
A/N: New version of these beings for me to try out. Thank you @bimbobaggins69 for the idea by just being amazing <3.
This take place 10 years after events in season 4 so about 1996.
Warnings: Older Dom (30s) Coach Steve Harrington/Older Dom (30s) Professor Eddie Munson & Young (20s) Fem Plus size Sub Student Y/N (whew! That's a mouth full lol), SMUT, spanking, choking, degrading, voyeurism, use of sir, FLUFF, Eddie and Steve have an established relationship. ANGST (because I'm me), reader is plus size and gets name called by the jocks (they call her names like piggy), one of them does assault her (pushes her and yells at her; brief), Steddie saves the day, mentions of reader staring in a play that makes her anxious due to her body.
This whole dynamic is technically angsty (which is why I love it muahaha).
Word Count: 8679
“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 
“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”
“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”
You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 
When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.
“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”
“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”
The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 
“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.
“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”
Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 
“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”
You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 
No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 
When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 
“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”
“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”
“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”
“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”
Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 
***
With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.
As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 
Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.
“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 
Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 
“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”
“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”
Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 
#############
That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 
“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 
“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”
“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”
As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.
“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”
“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”
“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”
“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”
“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”
You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 
After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 
“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”
His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 
Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.
“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”
Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 
“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  
Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 
***
“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”
Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 
The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 
No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.
Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 
“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”
Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 
Fuck me he’s big. 
You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.
With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 
“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”
Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.
“H-Harder, Steve, please.”
“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 
“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”
Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 
“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”
Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 
No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 
Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 
“Y/N…”
Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.
##############
What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 
Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 
As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 
“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 
“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”
“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”
That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 
“I’m doing what now?”
“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”
“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”
“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”
“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 
“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”
Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”
“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”
“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”
“What? No. I would never—”
“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”
“Nothing. I don’t—”
“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”
“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”
Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 
“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”
Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 
“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”
#############
A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 
Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 
As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 
Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 
“Is that my favorite piggy?”
You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 
“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 
“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 
“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”
As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 
“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”
“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 
Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.
Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 
“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 
“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 
“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”
“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”
“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”
The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 
“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”
“WHAT?!”
Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 
“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”
“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”
Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 
***
When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.
“You ok, babe?”
His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 
When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”
“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”
His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.
Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 
Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 
“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”
What could he have meant by that…
Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 
There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 
They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 
What must have happened to bring them together?
“Steven, you need to calm down.”
The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 
“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”
“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”
“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”
“Why then?”
“She…she seems like a nice girl.”
“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”
“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”
“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”
“Like that’s ever stopped you.”
“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”
“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”
“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”
Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.
“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 
“I didn’t know you could sew.”
“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”
“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 
“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”
They both glance at each other as you blush. 
“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”
“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 
“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”
“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”
Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 
“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”
“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”
“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”
“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 
Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 
It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 
“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”
All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 
“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”
Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 
“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”
As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 
“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”
“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.
“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.
“Edward…”
“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”
“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”
“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”
“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”
The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 
“He said show me respect.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”
You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 
“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”
“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 
“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”
“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”
He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 
Or…
“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”
“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 
“Go ahead, Y/N.”
As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.
You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 
“Did you see our cocks?”
“Yes.”
Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”
Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 
“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”
“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”
Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 
“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”
He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 
“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”
“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”
“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”
While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 
“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”
“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 
“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.
You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?
“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”
As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.
“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”
“Our?”
Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 
“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 
The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 
“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “
“Good. Good girl.”
His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.
“Can I kiss you?”
“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”
“Yes and no.”
“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 
“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”
The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 
“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”
“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 
“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”
Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 
“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”
You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 
“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.
As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 
“What did I say? How do you answer us?”
“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”
Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 
“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”
“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”
“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”
“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”
Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.
“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 
“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”
Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 
“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”
“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 
At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 
“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”
Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 
“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 
“Watch your mouth, little girl.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”
Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 
“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”
Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 
“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”
Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 
Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 
“Sensitive. I like that.”
Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 
“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”
“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.
“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 
“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”
“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”
“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”
Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 
“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”
“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”
They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 
“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”
“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”
Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 
“We know. You’re sorry.”
Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.
“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”
“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.
“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”
“What do you want, Ed?”
“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”
Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.
“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”
Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 
Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 
Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 
“I’m…I’m…please…”
Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 
“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 
“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”
His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 
“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”
“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.
Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 
“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”
“Green.”
His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 
“Green, what?”
“Green, SIR!”
You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 
“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”
“Green, Mr. Harrington.”
As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 
“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 
Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 
“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 
“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”
The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 
“Still green, babe?”
“Yeeeees, sir.”
“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.
“Oh my god!”
With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 
“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”
“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”
“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”
“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”
“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”
As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 
You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 
You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 
“For me?”
“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 
Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 
“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 
Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 
“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”
As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.
“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”
Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 
“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”
Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 
“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”
Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 
“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 
“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”
Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 
“I guess we can sleep in the—”
“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 
“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”
At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.
“You’re worried.”
“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”
“10 years. Not much.”
“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”
“So do you, honey.”
“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”
“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”
“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”
Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 
##############
@corkadymu @lilaclazer @aol19 @nailbatanddungeon
683 notes · View notes
stvharrngton · 3 months
Note
Ooh requests? Literally anything mushy-gushy lovey-dovey romantic with Steve! Like cuddling under blankets on movie nights that get a bit handsy? Or romantic getaway weekends where it's just you and him? Or god-forbid wedding night sex? That man would be on cloud nine on his wedding day?? The sex would be SO incredibly sweet and tender I just know it!
i love all of these ideas but i went with wedding night i hope that's ok!! <3 ps I'm sorry this took so long :(
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, fingering, unprotected p in v, steve is a lil cocky but v sweet
word count: 3.1k
requests are open!
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You reached the top floor of the hotel, the floor where the Honeymoon Suite resided. You and Steve walked hand in hand, fingers interlocked together before he abandoned that, scooping you up in his arms.
“Steve!” you squealed, clutching onto him for dear life as he carried you the rest of the way down the hall.
“What?” he asked innocently, warm honey eyes glancing down at you, “It’s tradition, I have to carry you over the threshold as the new Mrs. Harrington.”
You swooned at hearing that for the millionth time tonight but it never got any older. Your wedding wasn’t big, nor fancy, by any means but it was what you wanted. All your closest friends and family by your side as you married the love of your life.
Watching from his arms as Steve struggled to get the key in the lock of the door, you hid your giggles behind pursed lips before he finally managed to turn the lock. 
The room was beautifully put together, the big, soft, four poster bed the centrepiece. Big windows and plush furniture, complete with champagne on ice for you both. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it was everything you could have dreamed of. You both insisted on paying for the wedding yourselves, denying help from friends and family. But you knew Steve’s Mom couldn’t take no for an answer, depositing a substantial amount of cash in her only son’s bank account.
“Here,” Steve hummed, setting you down on the edge of the bed, kneeling to the floor so he could unbuckle the small strap on your shoes. He set them aside, taking both your hands in his much larger ones, placing a kiss to each knuckle before squeezing them tight.
Steve stood up straight now, leaning into you to brush his lips against yours, ever so softly. The kiss was sweet and heartfelt, his palm cupping your cheek as your lips moved against each other. Your noses brushed against one another’s when you pulled apart, the tip of Steve’s sculpted nose trailed along the slope of your own.
“I still can’t believe we’re married,” he whispered, voice sincere as he spoke, “I know it’s been hours but I’m so lucky.”
His words made your heart flutter. The soft look in his eyes, orbs of warm honey so loving and wet, his thumb soothing over the apple of your cheek, you felt so in love. You blinked up at him with big doe eyes before he went back in for another kiss.
Steve soon switched your positions with him sitting on the bed and you between his legs. He coaxed you into his lap, your knees pressing into the bed either side of Steve’s thighs and you were grateful the skirt of your dress allowed for ample movement. Steve’s large hands caressed your back, moving up and down over the lace bodice whilst his lips never left yours.
“Let’s get this off, yeah?” he whispered against your lips, fingers working delicately to undo your dress, allowing you to step out of the material. Once your dress was safety away, you stepped back between Steve’s spread legs, his large palms immediately clutching at your waist.
“There’s my gorgeous girl,” he cooed, pressing featherlight kisses to your stomach as his fingers explored the white lace that covered the intimate parts of your body, “my beautiful wife.”
You swooned at his words, the butterflies swarming in your stomach as your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his lips on your skin. You were soon back in Steve’s lap, your lips colliding once more in a heated kiss. His hands found your back again, travelling down until they reached the globes of your ass, squeezing at the flesh. Steve licked into you all pretty, all tender and sweet as your fingers rushed to unbutton his shirt, his jacket and waistcoat abandoned long ago.
You couldn’t help but grind your hips over Steve, already feeling too good and he’d barely got started. You hummed in content as his lips found your neck, teeth nipping at the sweet spot behind your ear, his tongue darting out to soothe the bite. 
Steve flipped you over, your back hitting the bed with a soft thud. He soon rid himself of his shirt, situating himself rightfully between your legs. His hands trailed over your body, large hands squeezing at your tits, his lips following with kisses in their wake. You sighed out your husband’s name in response.
“Tell me what you want, honey,” he whispered. His mouth made its way down your body until his lips reached your heat, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses over the material of your panties.
You whimpered as you leaned up on your elbows, eyes wet and pleading with your husband. You couldn’t think straight, didn’t know what you wanted, all you knew is that you wanted Steve, in any way he could give.
“Oh- oh, fuck,” you breathed, back aching as Steve was still making work of soaking your panties, in more ways than one, “your fingers! Fuck, I want your fingers, Steve.”
Steve could only chuckle as you squealed out your answer, one that he was surely satisfied with. “Anything for you, my beautiful wife.” He spoke against your skin, fingers hooking beneath your panties, pulling the lace down your legs, careful not to displace the frilly garter that was snug around your thigh.
The words made you hide a blush behind your arm as you slumped back against the bed. You felt his fingers curl around your wrist, moving your arm away from your face as Steve’s lips found your neck. Whispering against your skin, leaving wet kisses in their wake, “Come on, baby. Let me see you.”
Steve peppered kisses all over your face until you couldn’t help but let a smile creep back on your face. His fingers headed south, the pads of his fingertips ghosting over your tits, circling the peaks of your nipples before brushing over your stomach and finally reaching your pussy.
Your legs moved farther apart by instinct, letting Steve’s fingers explore your pussy; your throbbing clit, your sopping wet hole. He hummed against your skin as he felt you, your wetness coating his fingers as he spread it around. Your skin went hot as he spoke once more, “You’re already so wet, baby, hm? Such a perfect, little pussy.”
A low moan tumbled from your lips at his words, your eyes fluttering shut as he finally slipped a finger inside. Just a single digit but it was enough to have you falling apart beneath him. He pumped it slowly, fucking his finger in and out of your cunt as his lips wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around the pert bud.
Your back arched from the bed as Steve brushed his thumb over your puffy clit, smirking as you moaned his name.
“Want another, honey? Is that it?” he asked, his finger picking up the pace, curling at the knuckle, “Think you can handle it? Doing so good for me.”
You couldn’t help but whine, clutching at the sheets as your other hand found Steve’s soft locks. You did your best to nod your head, mumbling something that resembled a please.
So Steve plunged a second finger inside your hole, scissoring and stretching you open as your noises only got louder. The pace of Steve’s fingers grew gradually, his thumb rubbing at your clit harsher. Your slick leaked down his fingers and Steve only grew stiffer at the sound of his fingers fucking your wet pussy.
He watched as your eyes went glassy, barely able to keep them open. Steve towered over you, hooking his leg over your own to keep your thighs spread, his crotch subtly rutting against your soft, doughy thigh. His fingers were fucking you at speed now, Steve liked to be soft and gentle mostly, but he knew how you liked it when it came to having his fingers inside you. And that was hard, fast and deep.
“Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Go on,” he cooed in your ear, tongue licking at the shell, “make a mess all over my fingers, baby, want you to feel all kinds of good.”
You whimpered as your walls clenched around Steve’s fingers, a few more circles of your clit and you were a goner. Back arching off the bed you saw stars, nails digging into Steve’s scalp as you lost yourself all over Steve’s fingers. You cried his name like a banshee and Steve was totally in awe of you.
“Oh, that’s a good girl,” he mused, slowing his fingers to work you through your climax, “there you go, honey.”
Steve was peppering kisses all over your face when you came back to reality, his fingers still inside you but not moving, keeping you full up for just a moment longer. Only when he brushed his lips against yours did he remove them, a whimper escaping your lips when he did so. One that Steve gladly ate up.
You curled your fingers through his soft tresses as he kissed you slowly, almost as if he was savouring every minute of this moment with you. He pulled away from you for only a second, a second to pull his fingers to his lips, the same fingers that were inside your pussy not moments again. You stepped in quickly though, before Steve could slip his fingers in his mouth, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and bringing them to your own lips. Your tongue swirled around his digits, tasting yourself on him. 
Steve groaned as he watched, eyes hooded and dark, bottom lip snug between his teeth. You released his fingers with a pop, a faint smirk tugging at your lips as you did. He pulled you up into his lap, not caring about any wet patches you may leave on his pants, wrapping his arms around your waist as he caressed your back.
“Oh, my wife’s such a little minx.” Steve teased, moving his hands down to your ass, large palms groping at the supple flesh. You could only giggle in response, the heat creeping up your cheeks as your fingers ran through the hair on Steve’s chest, moving down his stomach to where his belt buckle sat.
He helped you out, undoing the buckle and shoving the black material down his legs, leaving him in just his boxers. Your hand reached further south, ghosting over his length over the boxers. Stroking and squeezing, ever so lightly. Steve let out a loud, deep, guttural groan in response.
“Fuck,” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter closed. Your fingers dipped beneath the elastic of the waistband, your nails raking through the neatly trimmed hair there, delving further until they could wrap around Steve’s thick cock. You felt his grip tighten, his fingers digging into your skin with every move, every stroke.
His boxers soon joined his pants and his shirt, scattered somewhere on the plush carpet of the Honeymoon Suite. You tried to crawl off of him, to get on your knees before him, tongue out ready and waiting but Steve had other ideas.
“Baby, no, I–” he stammered, holding you at your waist to keep you in place in his lap. Those big brown eyes bore into your own, warm and inviting as they always were.
“But, what about–” but Steve cut you off before you could finish. One of his large hands came to cup your cheek as he spoke, his voice quiet and soothing.
“We’ve got the rest of our lives for that,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. His other hand reached for his cock, holding it at the base as he slid it between your folds, teasing, smearing the wetness that was already there, “I jus’ need to feel you, honey, please?”
The desperation that laced his voice sent your head spinning. The butterflies erupted in your lower stomach at the thought, the fact he was eager to have you sink down on his cock, to fill you up really had you reeling.
So you nodded, bracing yourself on Steve’s shoulders as he guided his cock inside. You sank down on him to the hilt, taking all of him at once, an impressive feat to say the least. You both moaned out at the feeling, your walls wrapped around him, his cock throbbing deep inside you.
You took a minute to drink it in, the feeling of being full up, the pretty picture of Steve below you. His hair was perfectly messy, his cheeks a little rosy, his eyes a little hazy. His pretty pink lips were parted just slightly, his jaw slack as he held you close.
Slowly but surely, you started to roll your hips, back and forth, Steve’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your nails digging into his broad shoulders as you rode him, Steve’s face buried in the crook of your neck, wet, open mouthed kisses being left in his wake as he groaned lowly.
“God, fuck,” he whined, revelling at the feeling of your body pressed against his, your tits rubbing against his chest with every roll of your hips, “you feel so good, honey. So fuckin’ good.”
Your head rolled back in pleasure as you began to move faster now, grinding on Steve’s cock with vigour as you mewled at his words of praise. Steve sat back on his hands now, watching you make work of him and his cock. He was in awe of you, as he often was, the way your hips moved in a tantalising motion, the way your hands moved over his body before moving to your own. Fingers dancing over your skin, up your stomach and over your tits, squeezing and rubbing at your nipples.
Steve looked at you like you held the world in your hands, the moon and stars cascading through your fingertips. Every mole, freckle or blemish on your skin is a fine piece of art, the glint in your eyes a stroke of your character, the cute blush on your cheeks a cause to admire. He had never been so in love, drowning in his own happiness and pleasure simultaneously.
But as much as he was revelling in having you perched in his lap, cock sliding in and out of your pussy, there was always that underlying feeling that had Steve urging to take control. So he gripped your hips and flipped you on your back for the second time that night.
He gripped your thighs and spread them wide, his gaze falling to where you were connected. Where his thick cock was splitting you in two, stretching your pussy out wide. His length was slick with your juices, the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock. Steve slowed the pace, his hips moving at a deliciously slow pace.
“Oh, look at her, baby,” he cooed, his eyes flitting up to you through the hair that had fallen into his face, “she’s so wet, and it’s all for me? Fuck, pussy was just made for my cock, I just know it.”
“Steve,” you whimpered, arching your back and reaching out to clutch at any part of him your fingers could reach.
“I know, baby, I know,” he mused, leaning down to grab at your hands, threading his fingers through your own as he continued to roll his hips against your own, thrusting slow and deep, “I’ll take care of you, yeah? I’ll always take care of my girl.”
You wrapped your legs around him, your feet crossing at his tailbone as you pushed him closer to you. Steve let out this groan, one that was all pretty and deep, his eyes rolling back as he felt your walls clench around him. He squeezed your hands in his, his thrusts became more erratic, his rhythm slightly off the pace.
You could tell he was close, the way the tips of his ears bloomed red, the way the cute, pink flush crept up higher on his neck. Steve dropped your hands, opting instead to cup your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours as the other slithered between your bodies, his fingers soon finding your clit. He rubbed softly, a movement that matched the way his cock was fucking in and out of you, pulling a wailing moan from you.
“Oh, please,” you cried, your eyes squeezing shut, “please don’t stop, Steve, pleasepleaseplease.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, honey,” Steve chuckled, peppering kisses all over your face, “you want it, huh? Want me to fill up this pretty little pussy, is that it? Been such a good girl f’me. God, I can’t believe I get you all to myself for the rest of my life.”
Your pussy fluttered around Steve’s cock at his words, the pressure building in your lower stomach as his fingers on your clit, his cock in your cunt became a little too overwhelming. “Want it so bad, Steve, baby, please. Oh, please fill me up.”
You pleaded with him and who was Steve to deny you? He groaned as you begged him and Steve only doubled down. Even though the speed he was fucking you was slow, it was enough to have you both ticking over the edge.
“Oh, fuck—,” he whined, “cum with me, honey, yeah?” His thumb stroked over your cheek as his eyes looked into yours deeply, fingers still rubbing at your clit. You felt the beginnings of your orgasm start to build, your skin tingled white hot as your legs began to shake.
Steve called out your name like a song, musings of praise falling from his lips over and over again. High-pitched whines mewled in your ear as Steve filled you up, his cock still fucking in and out of your spent hole, doing all he could to keep his cum deep inside you for as long as possible.
He nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, his lips placing sloppy kisses to the skin there as you both mellowed from your high. Your chests heaved against one another as you caught your breath, your fingers still tangled in Steve’s hair. He pulled out of you with a whine, eyes catching a quick glimpse of his cum seeping from your pussy.
Steve leaned over you as he rolled over next to you, cradling your face in his palm as he brushed his nose against yours, the tip of his own running down the slope of yours, ending with a sweet kiss to your lips. 
“That was–”
“Amazing? Out of this world?” Steve cut you off with a smirk, “Best sex of your life? Just to name a few.”
“You’re an idiot.” You giggled, swatting at his shoulder as you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah,” Steve hummed, pressing one last kiss to your lips, “but you’re stuck with this idiot for the rest of your life.”
808 notes · View notes
andvys · 9 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | S.H.
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Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, sad ending, allusions to cheating, heartbreak, break up, King!Steve, popular!reader, poorly proofread
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader | Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Steve is slipping through your fingers and you desperately hold onto him not realizing that his heart isn't yours anymore.
Word count: 2k
Note: This is only the preview, I wanted to see how this will do before I write the actual story! @take-everything-you-can thank you for listening to my ideas and helping with more!
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The red wine is seeping through his shirt, staining his soft skin with it’s stickiness. He clumsily tries to wipe it off with a random cloth he found in Tina's bathroom, as though it would help, as though he could undo it, as though the redness hasn’t already stained too much of the blue material. 
He is mumbling incoherent words under his breath. 
You roll your eyes, reaching for the cloth in his hands, “it’s not coming off, Steve–”
“It’s coming,” he mumbles, drunkenly.
You sigh, walking around him, you put the cloth on the counter and reach out to him, cupping his cheeks, “come on, just let me take you home.” 
“Why don’t you go home?” 
He looks down at you with a look in his eyes that you aren’t familiar with. He furrows his brows as he looks into your eyes, searching for something that he won’t find in your eyes, ever. 
You are scared of it, you are scared of him, of what he feels, of what changed. You act like you don’t know what changed, you act like you are clueless, you act like you are unaware of everything that’s been going on behind your back. But you know everything. 
You know that Steve isn’t who you want him to be. 
He is King Steve and you are the queen of Hawkins High– you didn’t give that title to yourself, you never would, in a way it’s humiliating to you that people claim you to be some sort of queen, some mere girl that people look up to for some reason. You are nothing but a simple girl and Steve is nothing but a simple guy but unlike you, he loves the attention, especially the one he gets from all the girls, the ones that make him feel desired. You always hated the way he flirted with them even when he was already with you– he said he only did it because of Tommy and the other guys from the team, they always encouraged him to flirt with them. You didn't understand it, you would never do that to him. His flirtations were only halfhearted and he never actually did anything but it did nothing to make you feel better. Still, you stayed with him because you loved him and because you knew that he only did it for show, to keep up his stupid reputation.
After all he did only have eyes for you. Only you were allowed to see sides of him that no one else saw, only you got lingering looks, soft touches and kisses, only you got to lay in his arms and listen to the beat of his heart, only you were his girl, his only girl. Only you got all the I love you's.
He took you out on dates, he gave you flowers, he kissed you in his car, in downtown bars, behind the school, in his room, in your room. He made you happy like no one else did. He once did.
You were his first love, you had hoped that you would be his only love but then she came along and his love for you was just gone. 
When he suddenly stopped flirting with every girl that batted her lashes at him, you had hoped that he finally stopped caring about what his friends thought, you had hoped that he was finally ready to show everyone that he wasn’t like that, that he wasn’t some playboy who needed more than his girlfriend to keep him interested and satisfied but that was simply too much to wish for. You were a fool for considering that in the first place.
His eyes strayed away from you weeks ago, he had set his eyes on her, the girl that stole him and his heart away from you like it was nothing.  
Nancy Wheeler. 
The pretty freshman who was assigned to be his partner in some stupid history project. 
You knew that he was gone the moment he stopped calling you every night just to hear your voice before going to bed, you knew that his love had started to vanish when even after the project was over, he kept canceling or even forgetting date nights, you knew that his heart wasn’t yours anymore when you caught him staring at her with a look in his eyes that you wished to see when he looked at you. 
He isn’t yours anymore but you still hold onto him because he is still here, right in front of you and he puts his hand around your wrists, not hers. He looks into your eyes, not hers. But he doesn’t look at you with love or adoration in his eyes, no. He looks at you with something– with nothing. There is nothing in his eyes and you can already feel yourself growing sick because you know that this is it. You knew this was coming, you knew this would happen eventually, he will leave you, for her. 
You don’t know what happened between them, if anything happened at all, you don’t know if he crossed that line yet, he did emotionally but did he physically?
Your heart begins to pound in your chest, the sound of the music outside is too loud, even when you are stuck in this bathroom with your very drunk boyfriend who is about to shatter your heart into tiny little pieces, you still hear the music and it’s hurting your ears. Your throat tightens and your vision blurs. You feel like you are suffocating. 
“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice, it’s so shaky and so far away. 
Steve frowns, he shakes his head a little as he keeps looking at you. His eyes flicker down to your cheeks, to your nose that he used to kiss every time he would say goodbye, your lips that are trembling from the fear that is running through your body, he holds your wrists tighter as he looks back into your tear filled eyes.
What is he doing? 
You step closer to him, blinking those tears away, you whisper his name, begging and pleading with your eyes. You love him. God, you love him so much. 
He says your name. Not baby, not honey, not babe, not princess. He says your name. 
“L-Let’s go home, okay?” You mumble shakily, tearing your eyes away from his, “let’s just go home together.” 
"Together?" He slurs as he stumbles forward a little, you steady him by grabbing his waist.
“Yeah, you wanted to stay with me, remember?” 
“I-I don’t wanna stay with you, I don’t wanna be with– with you,” he mumbles, closing his eyes, he sighs. You smell the alcohol in his breath, the wine on his shirt and it makes you feel nauseous. He grabs your shoulders and suddenly his touch is too much, knowing that it’ll be the last time he touches you. 
“W-What do you mean?”
He is too drunk to see how scared you really are, how hurt you truly are. He is too much of a fool to see anything. 
“You heard me,” he says as he gets closer to your face, “I don’t want to be with you,” he spits. 
You draw back, furrowing your brows and holding your breath as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach, of course you weren’t prepared for this even though you saw it coming. 
“Why not?”
He looks bad, his hair is messy from all the tugging all night, his eyes are red rimmed and he has dark circles beneath them, like he had been up all night, his eyes are filled with so many things yet none at all, right now, you don’t recognize him. 
He is gripping your shoulders tightly, you wish it’s because he is afraid to let you go. 
“I’m not in love with you anymore.” 
And just like that, with a few simple words, he broke your heart. 
Steve Harrington, the man you gave your heart to so willingly, despite your friends warning you about him, despite all the warning signs, you gave him your heart and you never regretted it even though you should have but he was your Steve. He was. 
Steve awaits a reaction from you. He expects you to break down, to slap him, to push him away from you, to ask why but you don’t. In fact, you don’t give him a reaction at all, you just nod at his words, somehow managing to keep the tears from falling, your trembling lip tells him that you do want to cry though but you don’t. 
The bile rises in your throat, you want to throw up, you want to fall to your knees and puke your guts and your heart out but you swallow harshly and close your eyes for a moment, pressing your lips together to keep yourself from sobbing. 
Please wake up, please wake up. You think to yourself, let this be a dream, just a bad dream. You want to wake up, in his arms, in his embrace, you want to feel his kisses on your shoulder, his fingers running through your hair, to hear his morning voice, to hear him say I love you. But you will never get any of it again. It’s over. 
“Okay,” you whisper, shakily. 
You step away from him, pushing his hands off your shoulders, you nod to yourself as you open your eyes to look at him one last time, “okay.” 
An unfamiliar feeling runs through him, gripping at his heart, it hurts and he suddenly feels nauseous. He blinks and stares at you as though he doesn’t understand what just happened. 
You look into each other’s eyes, you both drown everything else out, the voices outside, the music and the ongoing party. 
It’s over. 
You feel grief, the way you felt it all this time already, knowing that this was coming. 
He feels it too, though he doesn’t understand it yet. He doesn’t understand what a huge mistake he just made, how much he will despise himself for doing this to you, how much he will come to regret this. When he feels the loss of your touch, his heart begins to understand a little. 
Deep down you know that he will come back to you, he will. 
Unable to stand around him any longer, you step away, “I’ll get Tommy or something, he’ll drive you home–”
“What about you?” He asks as though he didn’t just tell you that he doesn’t want to be with you.
Your heart is hurting, it’s hurting so badly that you start to forget what it ever felt like to be loved by him. Your tears threaten to fall so you step around him and reach for the doorknob, “goodbye, Steve.” 
He says your name but you don’t dare to turn around to face him, you keep the sob in, pushing it down as you open the door and step out of the room.
By the time the door slams shut, you are already crying, the tears are streaming down your face as you rush through the hallway and down the stairs, not caring about the looks of curiosity of the people around you, you don’t care about anything right now. 
You stumble down the stairs, almost crashing on the hardwood floor if it wasn’t for your friend catching you before you can even take the fall. 
“Hey, oh my god, are you okay?” She asks as she steadies you, watching you with concern in her blue eyes. 
You shake your head as you look at her. 
She looks around as though she is searching for someone but when her eyes settle on him standing by the stairs, not walking down just yet, she knows that it’s him who made you cry. 
She rolls her eyes, putting her arm around you, she pulls you away from the stairs and out of the house, wrapping her cardigan around you after you both step out into the cold. The front door closes and despite the loud music, the laughter and all the people around him, Steve swears that he heard it shut, it echoed and it made him wince in pain. 
He doesn’t understand the deep regret in his chest, the pain in his heart and the confusion in his soul. 
He doesn’t understand it yet. 
-
next part
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transvampireboyfriend · 7 months
Text
"Can I kiss you?" Steve asks, eyes glued to the side of Eddie's face.
Eddie is sitting on his couch and Steve is hanging out across from him, lounging on Wayne's recliner.
He gets to use it whenever Wayne's at work, with his explicit permission and now priority, since Eddie was jealous enough to start a mock argument and Wayne took Steve's side just to tease his nephew.
So now Eddie has to give that place up whenever Steve's over. Which, he almost always is, these days.
They're watching some horror movie Steve's not paying attention to because Eddie keeps laughing delightedly and the sound is starting to feel like coming home for Steve.
Not to mention, Eddie's wearing a crop-top again today, and the hair on his stomach renders Steve absolutely useless and unable to pay attention to anything else around them.
Not that his attention is too far from Eddie most days, at most times.
Eddie was saying the movie's killer was an idiot for getting the girl before he wasted her asshole boyfriend and Steve laughed at that, and suddenly, noticing how content he was here made him brave enough to ask for more.
"What?" Eddie asks in response, his eyes wide as he turns to look at Steve
"I asked if I can kiss you" Steve repeats, not one to back down, not when he's caught Eddie staring at him all starry-eyed before, not when Eddie goes out of his way all the time to make Steve's days so much better.
Eddie blinks "No, I heard you, I just- I just meant-" he splutters "um, I'm not really sure what I meant"
Steve watches the red spread across Eddie's cheek and smiles.
"So. Can I?" Steve presses
"I mean-" Eddie says, out of breath "yeah. Yeah, you sure can." he says.
Steve feels butterflies flutter in his chest. He gets up from Wayne's chair and goes to sit beside Eddie on the couch.
Eddie watches him like a deer in headlights, all the way through.
When he sits, Steve presses a kiss against Eddie's cheek. The warmth of his blush feels like early morning sunshine on Steve's lips.
"Oh," Eddie murmurs, almost sounding disappointed,
"No, I meant on your lips," Steve confirms, "but you look a little stunned"
That startles a soft laugh from Eddie.
"I guess I wasn't prepared to-"
"You don't have to do anything, I can take care of it" Steve interrupts jokingly, making Eddie laugh again, louder this time, joyous, the kind Steve keeps hoping for and never gets tired of.
"Smartass," Eddie accuses, softly pushing Steve's face away with his hand,
Steve laughs, enjoying the contact. Once their laughter dies down he says, honestly,
"You just have to want it too"
Eddie moves his hand to cradle Steve's face and bring him closer again, "Of course I want it." he says, his eyes trailing down Steve's face and focusing on his lips "I want it so much. Can we just stop talking about it and can you just-?"
Before Eddie can finish asking, Steve nods, says "Okay," and leans in to join their lips.
Eddie's lips are soft and he melts against Steve, his hands finding Steve's waist and resting there, sending a comforting warmth spreading up Steve's sides.
Steve buries his hands in Eddie's hair like he's wanted to do for months now, drawing him impossibly closer and holding him there with as much care as he can muster when they draw apart.
He can't resist going back in to gently kiss Eddie once, twice. Three, four times.
Eddie giggles, moves to lock Steve inside his hold, his arms crossing behind Steve's back and drawing him into his lap.
Steve goes easily, with a smile on his face and his heart hammering in his chest.
"I love this t-shirt" Steve confesses, running his hands down the soft material, until he gets to the cut off point, just on Eddie's ribs, and traces his fingers on bare skin.
Eddie presses a loud kiss to the joint of Steve's jaw,
" 've you been ogling me, Harrington?" Eddie teases him. Steve giggles, giddy with their closeness and how easy this is.
"Maybe," Steve says, finally getting to touch that happy trail, softly running his fingers over it. He watches as he does it too, feeling hypnotized.
He doesn't know how much time passes before he looks up again and finds Eddie looking at him like that again, like Steve hung the moon or something.
"You're beautiful" Eddie tells him, sounding out of breath.
Steve gasps dramatically, "Have you been ogling me, Munson?" he asks in his best gossipy tone,
It startles a loud laugh out of Eddie, one that shows his dimples, crinkles his eyes and throws his head back. Steve can't wipe the grin off his face, watching him.
"Oh!" Eddie gasps between laughs "ALL the time," he answers "just. 24/7. nonstop"
Steve giggles again. He adores this boy.
He cradles Eddie's face and traces the wrinkles around his eyes with his thumbs. Presses them to Eddie's dimples, traces the smile on his lips. Such a pretty smile, Steve tells him so.
Eddie draws up to place a kiss to the side of Steve's nose, right where Steve knows he has one of two marks from wearing his reading glasses earlier.
It's weird, surprising and oddly sweet, so much sweeter because Steve adores that Eddie surprises him all the time.
Steve chases after Eddie to kiss him again, trails his hands down Eddie's face and neck, one hand gently toying with Eddie's necklace and the other placed on top of the soft material of his t-shirt.
Eddie gives him so many kisses, long kisses and short ones, big and small ones, desperate and unhurried ones, so many sweet ones.
Steve gets lost in it, smiles against them and categorizes them as best he can, sighs against them and as the movie finishes unwatched and Eddie trails his fingers under Steve's shirt, Steve promises himself he'll collect as many kisses from Eddie Munson as he possibly can.
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cherrychilli · 1 year
Text
Caught
Happy New Year, everyone! Have some smut to celebrate.
Steve Harrington smut, AFAB Reader, secret relationship
Summary: Car sex with Steve turns awkward when you end up getting interrupted by one of Hawkins' finest.
A/N: Idk, I’ve just been obsessed with the idea of getting caught with Steve so I had to write this up quickly and get it out of my system.
Warnings: Minors DNI, NSFW, Dom Steve, degradation, dirty talk, P in V sex, unprotected sex (don’t do it), a mention of reckless driving (don’t y’all dare)
Characters are 18-19(referred to as ‘teens’ below)
Not proofread
Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this fic! (I love reading all of your comments and feedback, it really makes my day <3 )
Wordcount: 1.6k
The whole thing might have been your fault.
You were the one who initiated the kiss that night, not moments after you insisted that Steve park his car at the isolated forest clearing off the main road. You were the one pawing at his shirt, gathering fistfuls of the material and hurriedly settling into his lap. And you were the one urging his hands on your body, slipping them underneath your dress to glide over your hot skin.
“Please, Steve? I want it now”, you whine petulantly against his neck, sucking rosy bruises into his skin before slanting your lips over his.
“Baby, I really should get you home before your dad knows you’re out”, he manages to let out the corner of his mouth between your heated kisses. He means to do the right thing and explain that this was too risky, but the way you’re grinding your core against his crotch does everything to make his resolve waver.
You’d been dating Steve in secret for a couple of months now and despite how happy and proud you were to call him your boyfriend, it just wasn’t time to introduce him to your family quite yet. Having a strict father meant that you had to be extra careful but you both found that the sneaking around had added to the overall excitement.
“Can’t go yet- need to have your cock inside me”, you mewl into his ear.
Steve groans back in response. He always found it impossible to counter when you started talking like this, all needy and unrestrained. Your skirt rides us your thighs and your panties grow wetter as you pull the top of your dress down to reveal your bare breasts underneath.
Steve takes a quick moment to stare, decidedly throwing caution to the wind at this point. “Shit- we’ll have to make this quick”, he mumbles, one hand hurrying to undo his belt while the other groped at your tits.
You’d been known as somewhat of a ‘good girl’ in town. Polite, did well in school, reliable, so on and so on. The kind of daughter that would make any parent proud. As much as you didn’t mind being labeled a ‘respectable young woman’, it did bore you madly at times. Sneaking around with Steve made you realize just how much you liked doing the kind of things you were always told ‘decent’ girls shouldn’t.
Things with Steve started out nice and slow. He was the perfect gentleman but the soft lingering touches and chaste kisses didn’t cut it after a while. Eventually you started lying, telling your father that you were helping out at the local volunteer center when you were really out with Steve, letting him touch you in ways no one else had before. The more you got to know each other, you discovered the kind of things you liked. Some of it came as a surprise, even to you. You liked it when he got firm with you. Some moderate manhandling was more than welcome like having his fingers wrapped around your throat as he kissed you or being bent over his lap, waiting to feel the sting of his hand coming down on your ass. As someone who’d often been described as proper and pristine, you knew it’d come as a shock to anyone who found out just how much you liked having Steve spit into your mouth or how much you enjoyed the feeling of having his cum warm your skin. Every time he’d finish on places like your thighs, belly, breasts or ass you’d go so far as to refuse letting him clean you up entirely, haphazardly pulling your pretty clothes back on and letting his release stain the material.
One of your favorites was when Steve got a little mean with his words. You liked it when he admonished you, reminding you just how far you’ve strayed from being the ‘good girl’ everyone thought you to be.
“Bad girl, lying to your poor father just so you can sneak off and let me fuck you”, he’d grunt into your ear as he had you bent over his kitchen counter, house all to yourselves with Mr. and Mrs. Harrington out of town again. “Probably still thinks you’re his sweet, innocent princess”, he’d taunt, spanking your ass and squeezing the tender flesh as he thrust into your dripping cunt. “He has no idea what a dirty slut his little girl’s turned into”.
You raise your hips when Steve gets his cock out of his jeans, pumping it a few times before pulling your panties to the side and lining up with your waiting entrance. Your nails press into his shoulders as you sink down his length, moaning as you take him right up to the base. “Fuck- Steve, you feel so good- please start moving”.
With one hand on your hip he begins to work you on his cock, thrusting up into you as he grunts out, “greedy little pussy you’ve got babe- didn’t I fuck you enough last night?”
“Need more- please Steve, need you to fill me up again”, you whine shamelessly.
Minutes pass and you’re bouncing on his cock in a frenzy now, mouth falling open in a sultry moan when you feel him nudging your cervix. “Please please- fuck! Yes- Daddy!”
A wolfish grin spreads across Steve’s face, cocking an eyebrow up as your tits bounce in his face. “Daddy, huh? Since when- “
You cut him off with a quick smack against his shoulder. “No no, Steve- Stop!”. He ceases thrusting to turn and look out through the rear window, following your panic-stricken gaze.
“Oh fuck…”
The both of you had been too preoccupied to notice the Hawkins Police Cruiser pull up just behind Steve’s car and an officer already walking over to the driver’s window.
There’s no time to separate, Steve grabs at your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and tucking your face into his shoulder. In the middle of the scramble, he manages to pull your skirt down over your ass and throw his jacket over your back to help shield you. He’s still inside you, you’re both painfully aware of that fact when the eventual tapping against his window comes. Your blood runs cold at the sound of an all too familiar voice filtering through the minute gap, gruff and so very imposing when Steve has no choice but to roll down the window,
“Alright, break it up and go home you two”
“Yup- right on it- sorry, Chief”, Steve grits out through clenched teeth in the most deferential tone he could muster even though the tension is causing your velvety walls to clamp around his cock.
“Get back to your separate homes”, Chief Jim Hopper clarifies in the same indifferent and bored tone. Years of Police work has made him all too accustomed to situations like this. His gaze idly scans the surrounding area because he doesn’t need to peer inside to know that it was Steve behind the wheel, having already recognized his car. Neither does he have to guess what had been going on inside based on the way the BMW had been rocking when he first pulled up. Not his first time dealing with a couple of horny teens messing around in places they shouldn’t.
“Take the girl straight home, Harrington, you got that? and don’t let me catch you out here again”
Steve’s eyes momentarily flick to the gun holstered at Hopper’s waist, swallowing hard before replying. “Sure thing Chief, but could you maybe give us a moment to uh- get decent?”
Hopper sighs, deep and long and tired. “Two minutes. I better see you driving out of here in two minutes” he warns sternly and with that he’s walking back to his cruiser and begins reversing back on to the main road.
Steve waits until the headlights grow dim in the distance before speaking.
“Wow, your dad’s never in a good mood, is he?”
You pry away from Steve to swat at his shoulder again.
“That was too close!- I really thought he might recognize me- he could have killed you! Both of us! and how the hell are you still hard?”, you mean for that last part to sound reproachful but your tone betrays you, awe clearly evident behind your words.
“Are you kidding me? You’re lucky I didn’t cum in you right in front of him with the way you were squeezing me”, he laughs.
You blush madly at the thought.
“Steve! That’s so…”
“Dirty?” he smirks back and you melt.
It’s maddening having him so deep inside of you, long, hard, thick and throbbing.
Maybe two minutes might just be enough?
You can tell that he’s thinking the same, inching closer to your face.
You both abandon the idea when you hear the sudden blaring of the cruiser’s horn sounding off from the main road, your last warning to hurry up and get out of there. You pull away quickly but reluctantly from Steve’s lap, clothing yourself in a hurry before ducking out of sight when you drive past your father’s cruiser.
Cautiously sitting back up when you see his car disappear in the rearview mirror, you can’t help but feel sorry for Steve when you eye his erection straining against his jeans. You want to make it up to him after being the one who wound him up in the first place.
“Steve, I’m sorry”
He smiles back at you softly, “don’t worry babe, let’s just get you back before he finds out you were gone, alright?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, wringing your hands in your lap as you watch trees whip past and contemplate for a few moments.
Your face suddenly lights up, confident that you’ve come up with the perfect solution to cap off your rocky night with Steve.
“How about I suck you off while you drive me back home?”, you purr, voice sugary and eager.
Steve nearly veers off the road when you say it, fingers tightening over the steering wheel as he tries not to cum in his pants.
You’re definitely not a good girl anymore.
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apomaro-mellow · 4 months
Text
Sunshower
Read on AO3
Written for @slavicviking for the @steddieholidayexchange !
When Steve Harrington had graduated, Eddie thought he’d be pretty much done with him. Not that they had a lot of face time before. He just thought, in the true fashion of guys that peak in high school, he’d fade into the town, get married young, show his face at the 20 year reunion. Maybe he’d catch glimpses of him around Hawkins, but not for very long. Eddie was planning on hightailing it out of here the moment the diploma was in his hands. So what if it would take another year?
The positive was supposed to be that he was NOT going to see Steve’s face in the hallways. It was a great misfortune to see him walking up from the football field with some kid. Eddie had just finished a deal by the picnic tables. Why Harrington was hanging with what looked like a freshie, he didn’t know.
Eddie would’ve known if he had a brother. So who was the kid? Curiosity got the better of him and he trailed a good distance behind them. He was a little surprised when Steve took him through the cafeteria’s kitchen doors, which had a broken lock. It was the school’s worst kept secret, but he never imagined The Hair sneaking into school during summer vacation. 
So what could he do but follow? 
What he saw as he crept behind them was Steve Harrington giving what must be a future freshman a tour of the school.
“Here’s the cafeteria. Honestly the food’s not bad. Their creamed spinach isn’t the best, but really who’s is?”
Steve led the kid with the curly hair out of the cafeteria and into the greater part of the school. “Here’s all the lockers. No you don’t get to choose one, but once you get assigned you can always switch with someone who’s got better real estate.”
“Does the location of my locker really matter?”, the kid asked, nose scrunching up.
“Do you want one right next to the bathroom?”
“....Boy or girls?”
Steve smiled. “Good. You’re learning.”
Eddie shadowed them for the whole tour, which ended up being about twenty minutes. Harrington was really showing this kid everything. And yet was giving him the most skewed tunnel vision of high school. Great, just what he needed his third time around as a senior. A mini-Steve. Steve was telling him which teachers would let him get away with coming in late, the best spot to sit in the classroom, what teams it was worth going for.
“Steve, it’s like you don’t even know me. Have you ever seen me dribble a ball?”
“I’m just saying that it’s a fresh start. You could be someone new”, Steve reasoned.
“Did you become someone new in high school?”
Eddie thought back to the proto-Harrington he knew in middle school. The answer was clearly no. He’d been on the baseball team back then and was pretty much just as self absorbed as he would’ve been in high school. Steve gave a non-answer about how everyone had different experiences and pushed the kid on. Eddie decided he’d heard enough. Enough to know this kid was under Steve��s wing, but clearly they had different interests.
So come the first day of school, Eddie wore his Hellfire Club shirt loud and proud. The air was still warm, which meant he did so without his jacket. That just allowed the emblem to show even more. He’d told the other members to also wear theirs. Normally Eddie waited about a week, scoping out the freshies before figuring out who he’d approach to join. But he’d already had his sights set on at least one boy.
Imagine his delight and surprise when said boy had two others hanging around. Eddie was hanging outside the school, his cronies surrounding him as they caught up from what happened over summer. The trio was loud. Very obnoxiously arguing over something. Freshmen tended to be more self-conscious, wanting to keep their heads down at first. Eddie noted the Weird Al shirt one of them had. These boys were the opposite of timid. Perfect Hellfire material.
Eddie waited until lunch to make his move though. Give them a bit of time to get acclimated and at least half a day to see where everyone stood. But when Eddie did get to them, he was glad to see both excitement and relief in their eyes. They were looking for somewhere to belong. And he could give it to them.
Screw any influence Steve Harrington had on them. Which was why Eddie made careful measures not to even mention his name. The guy had graduated. His reign was over. Actually, it had kind of ended back in 84 but who was keeping record? Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were great additions to the club. They had a passion for the game and a never-back-down attitude. Honestly, it was so great, that Eddie almost forgot that these kids knew Steve.
That is until sports tryouts started.
“You can’t honestly be thinking out trying for a team”, Mike said, practically slamming his lunch tray onto the table as he sat down.
“I’m not just thinking. I’m already training”, Lucas replied.
“Ugh”, Mike retched. “Don’t get me started on that. You spend more time with your dad than us now.”
“His dad’s not the one teaching him”, Dustin said. “Steve keeps bailing on driving me places because he’s coaching Lucas.”
Mike had a look of utter betrayal and was definitely about to say something in response when Jeff cut him off.
“You’ve got Steve teaching you? As in Steve Harrington?”
“Yeah”, Lucas answered, much to the jeers of the rest of the table.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen”, Eddie said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “We must not bar Lucas from his own choices. And as for Steve, well, let’s just be glad young Sinclair didn’t go to him for academic assistance.”
The others laughed at that and the subject was quickly changed to something else. The rest of them didn’t really want to talk about any of the sports teams, lest that get Eddie really going and off on one of his rants. Sometimes it was nice to have just a stress free lunch.
“He said that?!”, Steve shouted indignantly as he dribbled the ball around on the court. He and Lucas were at a public court. Lucas was getting some practice in with his dad, but whenever he was busy, Steve stepped in.
“He’s not your biggest fan”, Lucas said with a shrug.
“Yeah, well he’s no prize either. Don’t let him get in your head. There’s nothing wrong with the sports programs.”
“But they’re right about there being cliques. If I get on the team, can I even be friends with Dustin and Mike anymore if they’re gonna be in Hellfire?”
“You should go for whatever you want. High school only happens once.” Steve dribbled the ball a few times before giving a bounce pass over to Lucas. “Alright, show me your handling.”
Lucas followed Steve’s advice. He officially joined up with Eddie’s club. He loved DnD and he enjoyed playing with his friends. But walking around with a Hellfire shirt didn’t do good things for their reputations at school. The others took it in stride, but Lucas was tired of being called names and girls looking at him weird.
So as soon as the sign-ups for try outs was out, Lucas put his name down. He didn’t really announce it but he didn’t hide it either the first time the guys wanted to do something and he was busy. The reception was not so good.
“You actually wanna be on the basketball team?”, Mike was incredulous.
Eddie was leaning against the lockers, arms crossed. “I get the feeling someone put this idea in your head. Was it Harrington?”
“He didn’t put any idea in my head he just..encouraged me”, Lucas confessed. “He said I should go for what I want. You only get one life.”
“One life indeed”, Eddie nodded.
“And you wanna use it shooting hoops with Jason and his cronies?”, Jeff asked.
“They’re probably not all that bad. Steve wasn’t”, Lucas defended.
The opinions were mixed on that. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike knew what Steve had done that they couldn’t tell others. He had stood between them and certain death more than once. But they couldn’t tell Hellfire that.
“You guys don’t know what Harrington was like”, Eddie said.
“Are you saying Steve bullied you?”, Mike asked with a raised brow.
“Bullied? Pfft, no. Harrington and I barely crossed paths. I just know his type. I know what he’s about. And he and I couldn’t be anymore different.”
At first it was just a conflicting of ideals. Whatever Steve told them about high school, Eddie told them the opposite. And there was no telling one what the other said.
“Harrington’s an idiot.”
“Munson’s a loser.”
It made talking to either of them hard. Most of their days involved hanging with Eddie and when they saw Steve it was all they wanted to talk about. Sort of difficult to talk about Eddie without talking about Eddie, but they managed for now. 
Well, at least they did until the party got super deep into Hellfire. The campaigns were really involved, to the point of needing rides home from Steve when they ran too late. It resulted in quite a bit of petty glaring across the parking lot. Mike and Lucas had resigned themselves to the status quo remaining, but Dustin wasn’t satisfied with that.
It took quite a bit of doing, but what else brought people together more than a missing child? Dustin didn’t actually go missing. He simply concocted a plan with his friends to make it seem like he did and only to Eddie and Steve. He wasn’t crazy enough to get the whole town looking for him. Steve wasn’t crazy about Eddie tagging along for the search but the priority was finding Dustin.
“Why do you need that to find Dustin?”, Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to touch the nails in the bat, just to see it they were real.
“Don’t ask”, Steve bit out as they entered the woods.
Dustin thought getting them to work together would ease the tension, and it did. But only after bickering like children for a little while longer. Steve didn’t like how Eddie was undermining everything he’d been saying about high school. Eddie didn’t like how Steve had been trying to lead his sheep in the wrong direction.
“Yeah well before they were your sheep they were my-”
“....They were your…”, Eddie urged him to continue.
“Nevermind.”
“You and Nancy must’ve been pretty tight when you dated to get so close to her brother and his friends.”
“Me and those guys bonded outside of Nancy.”
“Is there a story there?”, Eddie asked.
“Yeah-” Steve froze when he thought he heard a sound before continuing. The sun was still high in the sky, so they didn’t have much to fear just yet. It didn’t hurt to be cautious though. “I just…I guess I just know how high school can be for kids like that. I wanted to make it easy for them.”
Eddie shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what kind of cheat codes you give ‘em. There’s always gonna be someone who makes it harder than it needs to be.”
Steve thought about thanking Eddie for giving them a place right away, but didn’t. Eddie thought of saying how Steve seemed to have changed, but didn’t. When they finally found Dustin, they laid into him hard, especially because he wouldn’t stop smiling despite his lie being revealed. All Dustin cared about was the fact they weren’t arguing with each other.
Mission accomplished.
Mission accomplished a little too well.
Now instead of having two friends who hated each other’s guts, Dustin had two friends who reveled in being shitty older brothers to him. Any time Steve picked them up from Hellfire (which he did with a suspicious amount of willingness now) he and Eddie traded notes on whatever it was that Dustin did that week. It was like a Henderson Briefing and the main objective was to either embarrass him or annoy him, sometimes both.
“I regret ever forging this friendship”, Dustin said.
“I think it’s the best thing you’ve ever done”, Lucas beamed.
Mike was grinning too. “It’s definitely the funniest.”
It got to the point where sometimes Steve and Eddie would hang out on their own. And wasn’t that just bizarre? What did they even do together?? The answer was mostly smoking, drinking, and shootin’ the shit. Even though Steve wasn’t able to tell Eddie any of the grimier details of the past couple of years, he was still able to tell plenty. And Eddie had no NDAs to speak of. 
They were sitting out by Steve’s pool one day in March, the weather just starting to warm up to be able to relax there without freezing. Spring would officially come soon and with it, maybe a day or two where they could actually take a dip.
“I’m telling you, the lunch ladies changed the formula. Something’s different about the meatloaf”, Eddie said, fully reclined in a pool chair.
”You’re implying that they actually cook that stuff in the school.”
“I’ve seen the vats of mystery meat stew, Steve. But some of the food is made on-site. And the meatloaf is one of them.”
Steve smiled up at the clear sky. They talked like this, high or not. Just the most inane things that he never wanted to end. What did he care about the food at a school he no longer attended? He cared when Eddie was the one talking about it.
“So you’re done with the loaf then?”
“I don’t even think it’s the same meat anymore”, Eddie said. “Or maybe they changed the seasoning…?”
Steve continued gazing up at the sky as Eddie mused on that. Suddenly a drop of water hit his head. Then another, then a third. He wiped his face and looked to Eddie, who was also blinking through drops. Wordlessly, they got up from their seats and went under the porch awning as the rain began falling in earnest.
“How is it raining? The sun is still out”, Steve said, reaching a hand out just to be sure it was still rain.
Eddie snorted. “Never seen a sunshower, Harrington?”
“No”, he answered honestly.
“Don’t sweat it. I’ve still gotta knock ball lightning off my strange weather checklist.”
“It’s just weird seeing it rain with no clouds”, Steve said.
Eddie watched the droplets fall in the sunlight. It was like liquid gold falling from the sky. He watched Steve’s face, no hard lines or sarcasm, just awe at seeing something new and wonderful.
“You know, some folks back where I’m from have a name for this.”
“You mean something other than ‘sunshower’?”, Steve tore his eyes from the rain to look at him.
“They say the devil’s kissing his wife”, Eddie stuck his tongue out. “Give you any ideas?”
He had been a hundred percent teasing. Eddie had just been talking. Flapping his gums. Doing his usual friendly flirtation style. He had no plan in place for when Steve actually kissed him. But when it happened, there was only one choice: to kiss him back. The rain provided some pretty romantic ambience in his opinion.
“So are you the devil in question?”, Steve asked when he pulled back.
“Only if that makes you my sweet, lovely little wife”, Eddie teased and then made kissing noises.
“Fuck off, Munson”, Steve laughed.
Feeling like they were on the edge of something, Eddie took the plunge and kissed him again instead of cracking wise. Steve softened so beautifully that Eddie wished he could go to the past and kick himself in the pants. He probably could’ve been doing this months ago.
“You know we absolutely can’t tell Dustin about this?”, Steve said against his lips.
“It’s none of his business anyway.” Eddie didn’t feel the need to mention that no one could know. He just put his hands on Steve’s hips and for once was thankful for the privacy the backyard gave them.
Weeks later, during the spring break from his darkest nightmares and the stroll through actual hell, Eddie would have an epiphany.
“That’s why you have that bat!”
599 notes · View notes
lovebugism · 4 months
Note
How about "89. I’m drunk and fall asleep in a snow bank and you’re the kind stranger yanking me to my feet and lecturing me on how dangerous that is" with Steve?
ty for requesting!! — steve harrington rescues you, his worst enemy, after finding you all alone on a snowy bench on main street (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw for toxic relationships, 2.4k)
blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
On his way home from the Wheeler holiday party, Steve thinks he sees a dead body in the snow.
He slows at a stoplight and knows he sees a dead body in the snow.
With nothing but sheer stupidity and a savior complex, the boy rushes out of his warm car and into the vacant road on Main Street. The piling snow crunches under his sneakers and dampens them instantly. Crystalline flakes fall from the pitch-black sky at a merciless rate, sticking to his lashes and his fuzzy Christmas sweater. 
The snow glistens as it clings to the limp body lying on the bench. A girl, Steve realizes as he gets closer — a pretty girl in a pretty dress who’s not at all clothed for this kind of weather. 
He steps closer, blinks snowflakes from his eyes, and realizes that it’s you. The reigning princess of Hawkins. The homecoming queen. His absolute worst enemy. 
Steve loses his sympathy in an instant. Now that he knows you’re not dead, anyway. 
But he nudges at you gently — just to make sure — and you grumble something unintelligible into your folded-up arms.
“What are you doing?” he wonders aloud.
“What’s it look like?” you slur, rubbing your cheek against your sleeve like a cat.
“It’s freezing out. You know that, right?”
“Really?” you muse sleepily, eyes still shut. “I haven’t noticed.”
Steve scoffs a bitter laugh and rolls his honey eyes. He puts his hands on his waist, cocks his hips to the side, and leers down at you even though you can’t see him. He wonders if you even recognize his voice — if that’s the reason you’re being so short with him or if you’re just too drunk to care.
“It’s good to know you’re still a priss after all this time. It’s really refreshing, actually.”
He expects you to argue with him. That’s what you used to do, anyway. Your relationship (or lack thereof) is built on this kind of petty, meaningless banter. So he feels a little empty when you don’t bite back. Maybe even a little bad.
You fall back to sleep, a soft snore sounding from your throat. You shift in your slumber and it sends you rolling off the bench. Steve catches you before you can. He puts you back into place with two warm hands around your arms.
“Alright. Get up,” he says with an annoyed huff.
“No, thank you,” you sigh, still sleepy.
“No. Seriously. Get up before you get frostbite.” 
His voice is coated with an obvious concern. You don’t miss it — not even in your exhausted, drunken, and heartbroken state. Maybe that’s why you don’t fight him as much when he forces you to sit up, but you’re still hardly more than dead weight. He’s forced to hold you so you don’t fall over again.
Steve can see you better now that you’re fully upright. Snowflakes stick to the strands of your done-up hair, made-up lashes, and the knit material of your dress. Your eyeliner is smudged beneath your eyes, and your lipstick has been mostly kissed off. There’s a hole in the knee of your tights, too, and scuff marks on the toe of your boots.
You’re pretty. You’ve always been pretty, but just a little extra now. Way too beautiful to be all alone on this bench in the middle of Main Street.
“What are you doing here?” Steve blurts as he crouches in front of you. Snow wets the knee of his jeans, but he’s too distracted by you to care. “Where’s your boyfriend? Why isn’t he with you?”
He can’t even say the name — of your douchebag boyfriend, that is. Just thinking of the words Billy and Hargrove makes him feel like vomiting. Steve didn’t think he could hate anyone more than he hated you until he met that asshole. The two of you deserve each other, really.
Your tired head lolls to your shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as you shrug.
“You weren’t with him?” the boy presses.
“I was,” you slur dramatically. “But he left.”
“He left you?”
You nod, slow and lazy.
“He left you here?”
You nod again.
Steve’s chest stings. His heart aches for you, even though he knows it shouldn’t.
“Why?” he agonizes.
“I got too drunk at a party… And I talked to a guy he didn’t like very much.”
“Then what?”
You start to go limp in his hold. Exhaustion weighs you down again, accelerated by the winter’s bitter cold. Steve squeezes your arms to keep you upright. Your eyes open again but the lids of them are visibly heavy. 
“Um… We fought in the car. And he told me to get out,” you explain in mumbled slurs. Your voice is calm and airy, as light as the falling snow. You’re too drunk to understand how heartbreaking this is. “And I tried to get back home, but then I forgot how to walk.”
Steve’s eyes start to burn. He feels like he could cry. Because sure, you’ve been his enemy since the third grade, but you’re soft and you’re gentle and utterly undeserving of Billy’s assholery. 
Because of this (and his lingering savior complex), he feels the overwhelming urge to take care of you.
“Here. C’mon,” he huffs as he rises to full height again, jaw tense to keep his teeth from chattering. He tugs at your arms to pull you up with him. You comply (as best you can on frozen, drunken limbs) but not without confusion. Your face twists with it.
“What?” you murmur.
“Get in the car, okay? C’mon.”
You plant your feet. It becomes virtually impossible to move you. You and Steve idle at a standstill with your shoes digging into the piling snow. Your toes feel close to frozen, but your hands are strangely warm with Steve holding them so tight.
“No,” you insist, dramatically stubborn in your less-than-sober state.
“No?”
“Billy will get mad.” 
Steve scoffs. “Screw Billy.”
“I do that already.” Your reply comes so swiftly, and without a single hint of a smirk, that it’s impossible to tell if you’re joking or not. Maybe you aren’t and you’re just too drunk to understand sarcasm. Maybe you are joking and the receptors in your brain aren’t firing properly enough to tell you to smile at yourself.
Either way, Steve’s face scrunches with disgust. “Gross,” he mumbles under his breath.
—————
Steve has to drag you to his car. 
He puts his palm over the crown of your head to keep you from bumping it when you duck inside. He guides your legs in, too, when you have trouble maneuvering them. Then he reaches over to buckle you in before you have to ask him for help — because god knows there’s no way you could do it on your own.
He smells like cedar and something sweet when he leans over you. His whole car smells like that, actually. It’s nice. Comforting. Almost achingly warm. 
You curl into the heated seat and provide exactly zero help when he drives you home.
“You still alive?” he asks after a couple minutes of driving.
You grunt, slumped over in your seat with your forehead pressed against the window.
“What’s your address?”
“Hm?” 
“Where do you live?” he presses.
“Why do you wanna know, perv?” you slur, obviously not all there as you shift to get more comfortable in the passenger seat of his car.
Steve scoffs. “Oh, right. I’m the perv ‘cause I didn’t leave you out in the freezing cold. Makes so much sense. Maybe next time, don’t call me when your asshole boyfriend abandons you, alright?”
He’s bitter. Intentionally hurtful. 
You’re too drunk to understand. “I didn’t call you in the first place,” you retort sleepily.
He falters. “Well— you know what I mean.”
“I can’t go home,” you answer finally.
His structured features twist with concern, but your eyes are closed so you don’t see it. His honeyed gaze squints with worry, flitting from your limp form to the darkened road and back again. “Why?”
“‘Cause I live with Billy. And he doesn’t want me there,” you tell him with a lazy shrug. Then, more quietly, you mumble. “Nobody wants me anywhere…”
You say it so softly that he barely hears it. He wishes he hadn’t. It’d make it a whole lot easier to hate you if you were still the same priss he grew up with. He isn’t so sure that you are — or if you ever were. All you are to him now is a heartbroken girl he found in the snow, in desperate need of some kindness.
So when you drift off again, he lets you. And he doesn’t wake you until you get to his house.
You feel the warmth of his presence first — the weight of his chest at your side and his hand on your waist. Your heavy eyes flutter open to find him leaning over you. He fusses with the seatbelt buckle for a moment before it clicks.
“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, voice weighed down by exhaustion. There’s a million questions swirling in your head right now — where am I, why are you here, why are you taking care of me. That was just the first to slip out.
“Good. Now I don’t have to carry you,” Steve jokes.
He holds your hand to help you out of the car, then wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. He guides you towards a too big house, lit up white with expensive Christmas decorations.
“Where are we?”
“My place. You can sleep off the alcohol on my couch.”
Your head lolls to your shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and glassy as you blink up at him. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you tease, still slightly misarticulate — though not nearly as much as when he found you in the show.
Steve’s rolling his eyes at you one moment, silently scolding himself for getting out of his car in the first place — and the next, he’s standing in his kitchen, filling up a glass of water and putting slices of bread on a plate for you. He even cuts off the goddamned crust. Just in case.
He left you on the couch in the living room, but you’re gone when he gets back. It’s like he blinks, and he’s annoyed with you all over again. A huff tumbles from his mouth as he trudges up the stairs to find you.
The door to his room is cracked open. 
He finds you curled up in the center of his bed.
“No. Nope,” Steve scolds as he walks further inside. He sits the bread and the water on his nightstand and tries to shake you awake. You’re totally knocked out, hardly anything more than deadweight from the alcohol. 
And he can’t even be mad at you about it because it’s not even your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten left in the first place.
“C’mon. Get up— you’re not sleeping in my bed,” he insists. His hand curls around your arm with the intent to pull you up before he realizes how cold you are. You’re freezing, even over your dress. The notion makes Steve stop in place. 
He squints to take a better look at you — to really look at you — and swears the color of your skin is tinted blue from the cold. Your mascara is smeared — from where you’d been crying, maybe. He thinks those might be dried tear stains on your cheeks, too.
All at once, he doesn’t have the heart to wake you. He curses himself for being so hard on you. You never deserved it — not tonight, not ever — and he figures this is his time to atone.
He maneuvers you beneath his navy blue sheets with a warm and gentle hand. He brings the top of the comforter up to your jaw and you curl into his bed on instinct, sighing as you settle further into the warmth. 
Your eyes are still closed and you’re still barely conscious, but the pillow is soft against your cheek. It smells like floral detergent and musky cologne and sweet-smelling hairspray. It brings you a foreign comfort that lulls you into a deeper, much-needed sleep.
Steve settles beside you, over the covers and with his clothes still on. He wants to be awake in case you need him. He doesn’t want you to get sick and not be alert enough to help you. 
He’s laughing at the sound of your gentle snores one moment, then falling asleep to them the next.
Hawkins’ royalty. Arch enemies since elementary school. Sleeping together in one bed like you haven’t spent the majority of your lives hatingeach other.
You sleep soundly together in spite of all that. You don’t wake for several hours — not until you’ve slept the alcohol off and your suddenly sober brain reminds you of the night before. Touchy guy on the dance floor, Billy’s rough hand around your wrist, “God, you’re such a slut!” 
The last thing you remember is passing out on a bench on Main Street, so you’re not entirely sure how you ended up in a bed. 
You wake with a start, distinctly and palpably terrified. 
You’re rousing wakes Steve up, too.
“Billy?” you murmur, heavy with sleep, as you squint in the navy blue darkness. 
A part of you hopes it was all just a too vivid nightmare. Or, at the very least, that your boyfriend came to his senses and picked you up after completely abandoning you — but somehow that feels more unrealistic than all the shit he put you through the evening before.
“No—” Steve answers groggily, then clears throat when the word gets stuck there. He rises to his elbows and looks over his shoulder at you, squinting a tired eye to see you better. “No, it’s— it’s Steve.”
He can’t see you too well, not in the pitch black of his bedroom, but he swears he hears you sigh. One of relief, maybe, or maybe one of ease. Either way, you don’t seem very upset that he’s here with you.
“Oh,” you answer, still a bit breathless. “Okay…” You lie back down again, feeling eons safer than just seconds before, as you curl back into your shape on his mattress. You sigh into your pillow and try not to gravitate towards the warmth beside you.
Steve’s hands fidget with a similar fight to keep from holding you. “It’s okay,” he settles on instead, hoping his words can embrace you in a way he doesn’t let himself. “You’re okay.”
892 notes · View notes
harringtonstilinski · 3 months
Text
..Ready For It? (Steve's Version) - Steve Harrington (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 6,219 Warnings: fluff, use your imagination for the lingerie Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @fandom-princess-forevermore!! Smut: no | yes; oral (f receiving), protected p in v, first name kink is that even a thing?, A/N: Hi, friends! Surprise, surprise, another smut piece! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
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Steve Harrington. Your assignment partner turned best friend… turned crush. It all started sophomore year when you two were assigned to be partners in math class. Your teacher claimed that the lesson was going to be a hard one and that two heads would be better than one. So, he decided to partner the students up in order to see if his claims were true.
They weren’t true… for you at least. You found the harder stuff a little bit more easier than the easier materials. Steve, of course, struggled a little, but once he got the hang of it, you flew through the lesson, finishing in three days rather than the four your teacher said it’d take. 
When Steve had come to you the following Monday, handing you the math test you’d taken the previous Friday with a smile that he was trying so hard to contain, you knew he passed with at least a low C. 
A smile had crossed your face at seeing the 80/B on his paper, your eyes landing on his before he excitedly picked you up and spun you around in the middle of the hallway, not caring that there were other students walking around that you almost kicked.
From then on, the two of you were inseparable. That was, of course, was after the youngest Byers boy went missing, only to be found a week later in some place called the Upside Down, titled that by your little brother Dustin and his friends, that called themselves the Party.
Steve had protected you, your brother and his friends during the events of Dart, as well as the latest event; The Mind Flayer, that apparently hadn’t gone away like you all had thought. Steve and Robin, both of your best friend, had lost their jobs at Scoops that was located in Starcourt Mall before it burned down… from all the fireworks that you all had thrown at the nasty creature.
Now, you were sitting on a stool at the counter of Family Video, Steve and Robin’s newest job, reading your book. You were completely lost in the words on the pages, you didn’t register what Steve and Robin were talking about.
“I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to try and be with someone long term,” Steve said. “It’s just that I haven’t met anyone that I would want to be with long term.”
“Aside from one girl that’s sitting at our checkout/return counter reading a book?” Robin bemused, gesturing her head towards you, gaining Steve’s attention. 
As he looked at you, he watched as you smiled at something in your book before you chuckled at the pages, your head shaking as you turned the page, a gasp sounding from you not a moment later before you exclaimed “Traitor!” at the page. 
Looking up from your book, your face dropped as you saw the smirks on Steve and Robin’s faces. “This fucker is a damn traitor. Tristan promised Carmen a date and that he wasn’t in love with any other woman, but he lied! He’s going on a date with a woman that’s not– oh, wait.” You had looked back down to get more details, but realized you hadn’t read onto the next paragraph for an explanation. “Nevermind. It was his fucking sister.”
Groaning, you placed your bookmark into your book, closing it and looking up. “Hey, is Keith here?”
“Yeah, why?” Robin asked.
“What do you say to the three of us,” you said, pointing to yourself, as well as Steve and Robin. “Going to get some lunch. I’m starving.”
When your eyes landed on Steve’s, he shrugged and looked towards Robin, who had a knowing look on her face. “You two go ahead and go,” she said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Someone needs to be here to hold down the fort.”
“Perfect! Well, I mean, not–”
Steve chuckled, turning his body towards the back rooms. “I’m gonna go let Keith know I’m taking my break. I’ll be right back.”
You nodded before grabbing your book, shoving it into your purse before standing up and walking to the Rom-Com section, skimming through the movies you might want to rent for your movie night with Max, since her mom wasn’t being much of a mom these days since Neil took off after Billy had died.
“Oh, Max the store before you got here,” Robin said. “She said she has to cancel tonight. Lucas wants to hang out with her.”
Sighing, you moved from the Rom-Com’s over to the Crime section, spotting a movie that had been one of your favorites for a couple of years. Smiling to yourself, you picked it up and walked over to the counter, Robin already waiting for you. 
She looked at the cover before looking up at you through your lashes. “The Outsiders?”
“Again?” Steve asked, grabbing something from under the counter. 
“Yes, Steven, again,” you deadpanned. “It’s a good movie.”
“How many times have you-” he started, only to face Robin to ask her, “How many times has she checked it out?”
Clicking through the computer, Robin’s eyes stayed on the screen. When she got to your information, she sighed and said, “Four.”
“Seriously?” Steve asked, looking at you through his lashes.
Shrugging, you said, “I can’t help it! Rob Lowe is just- mmm.”
Steve and Robin chuckled as Keith came out from the back, your eyes going wide before you ducked behind the counter, trying to hide from the store manager. 
“I saw you, Henderson,” Keith said.
As you stood, you smiled shyly, resting an arm on the counter. “Heeeeey, Keith. Haven’t I told you that–”
“You’re not checking it out again,” he said.
“Oh, come on!” you whined. “Why not?”
“We have a three rent rule. You can only rent a movie three times.”
“What?! That’s not a rule!”
“That’s my rule.”
Narrowing your eyes, you asked quietly, “Is this because I wouldn’t go on a date with you when you were manager of the arcade?”
All he did was munch on a Cheeto Puff before he turned and walked back into the back of the store, leaving you to groan and toss your head back. “He’s such a dick.”
Chuckling, Steve typed something on the computer before walking around the counter to you. “Come on. Let’s go get some lunch and then after my shift, you and I can hang out. Have our own little movie night.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment before locking your eyes with Steve’s, chuckling when you saw the deadpan expression on his face. “Okay, okay. We can do that. I’ll have to go get some popcorn and candy.”
“Why don’t you guys start early?” Robin said. “Steve, I’ll tell Keith some lame excuse so that you and this fine lady here can enjoy each other’s company.”
“That’s okay, Robin,” you said. “I have some things to take care of at home first before his shift ends.”
“Are you sure?” they asked.
Chuckling, you replied, “Yes, twins, I’m sure.” Looking at Steve, you looped your arm through his, smiling. “Let’s go, Harrington!”
~~~
After you and Steve had lunch, he took you both back to Family Video, where your car was. You told him that you had to go home for a little while but that you’d be at his house after getting the popcorn and candy for your impromptu movie night.
As you were folding your laundry that you washed earlier in the day, your landline rang. Without looking away from the shirt you had grabbed from your laundry basket, you picked the receiver up, putting it in between your ear and shoulder. “You’ve reached the best looking Henderson, what’s up?” A chuckle on the other end had you sighing. “What do you want, Munson?”
“Just wondering if Dustin is coming to Hellfire tonight, princess. That’s all.”
“I play one freaking time and you all refer to me as princess since.”
“It’s adorable.”
“You’re adorable,” you deadpan. “Uhm, I’m not sure. Why not call the house and ask?”
Eddie sighed on his end. “I did, but he told me to call you and ask if you could bring him.”
Looking off the side, you scrunched your brows, pausing your motions of putting the shirt on a hanger. “He couldn’t have just asked me to bring him, or you for that matter?”
“Eh, it’s more fun to annoy you.” You could hear the smugness in his voice as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. “I already know what you’re going to say, so thank you, princess.”
“You’re fucking welcome,” you gritted through clenched teeth. “I have to run a couple of errands before I drop him off, but it’s your responsibility to bring him home, Munson!”
“Don’t worry, m’lady. He will be home, safe and sound after Hellfire.”
A small smile crossed your face. “Thanks, Munson.” As the two of you hung up, you sighed, thanking the stars above that Dustin had another older male figure in his life other than Steve, who worked a lot and barely had time for Dustin. 
The thought made you sad as you put another shirt on another hanger before your phone rang again. A groan fell from your lips, your head tilting back in frustration before you picked the receiver back up, answering with “Henderson.”
“Should I come pick you up?”
“Steve-”
“I know you said you needed to run-”
“I have to take Dustin to Hellfire tonight, but I’ll get the stuff and be over right after. I promise!”
“Okay,” Steve chuckled. “Don’t forget the stuff!”
“What makes you think I’m gonna forget?”
~~~
“I forgot the stuff,” you said after Steve opened his door, a sheepish smile on your face.
All Steve could do was chuckle and shake his head, Standing to the side, he let you walk in as you rambled.
“I took Dustin to Hellfire, and I was gonna go before I took him, but he was super insistent-” Stealing a glance at him through your lashes, you muttered, “You know how he can be-” Going back to taking off your coat and shoes. “So, when we got to the school, the Club was outside and they wanted me to hang out for a minute, so I did and then one minute led to another and next thing I knew-” You started walking into the kitchen. “I had lost track of the time and when it hit me that I had actual plans with you, I was rushing out of the school, trying not to break any road ru-” You turned around, not seeing Steve standing behind you. “Steve?”
“Living room,” he chuckled.
Walking into the living room with the drinks you had grabbed from the fridge during your rant, you sighed. Setting the drinks down, you sat on the couch, propping your feet up on the table in front of you, crossing your ankles. “So, what movie is going to be gracing our eyes tonight, dear Steven?”
Steve slightly stiffened at you calling him by his full first name. He didn’t know why, but he loved you calling him that. It made his cock twitch in his pants. Sighing to himself, that didn’t go unnoticed by you, he messed with the VCR before standing from his squatting position. “You’ll see,” he replied, walking over to sit next to you.
“Is it Fast Times? I swear to shit, Steve, if it’s Fast Times again–”
“You. Will. See,” he said, poking your leg with two words before poking your side with the last word.
“Okay, don’t tickle me or else we’ll be rolling on the floor having a tickle fight.”
While the previews played, you got comfortable against Steve, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm came to wrap around you. As he lightly rubbed up and down your arm, he asked, “Did you finish your book today?”
“Almost,” you sighed. “I have a few pages left, but when I went to go start on the last chapter, Dustin almost got my door stuck in the wall with how hard he opened it.”
Steve chuckled, continuing the motions on your arm. “I forget you guys have pocket doors.”
“It’s a blessing and a curse sometimes.” Your eyes lit up as you looked at the tv screen, seeing The Outsiders title card. Sitting straight up, your eyes widened in excitement and happiness before you turned to look at Steve. “You rented it?!”
Nodding his head, Steve smiled softly. “You wanted to watch it, so I- oh, shit!” He laughed as you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing him to laugh.
“You’re welcome. Now, sit down so we can watch it.”
About halfway through the movie, you started to yawn, moving your head to get more comfortable on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve chuckled, trying to look down at you. “you tired?”
Yawning again, you nodded. “A little. I cleaned and did laundry today. That normally makes me really tired once I’ve-” Yawn. “-had some time to relax.”
“Do you want to go to bed?”
You looked up at him, smiling a little. “Sure.” As you were getting up, you notice Steve hesitate for a moment. scrunching your brows, you placed a hand on his forearm, asking, “are you okay?”
He looked at you before sitting up to face you some. “Yeah, I'm fine. there’s just… there’s just something I wanna do before we head to bed.”
“What’s-” your words were cut off by Steve gently placing his lips on yours, waiting to see what your reaction would be. 
You were shocked, to say the least, and he didn’t move not one muscle, letting you take the lead on the kiss.
After a moment, he went to pull back, but stopped when your hands cupped either side of his neck, pressing your lips against his.
Your lips moved in sync for a moment, the two of you in kissing bliss… before a throat being cleared had you two breaking apart.
“No funny business, son,” his father said. “Either go up stairs and show her the guest room or take her home.” Mr. Harrington walked away towards his own bedroom as Steve took your hand in his to lead you upstairs.
“Don’t take me to the guest room,” you whispered. “Take me to yours. I wanna finish what we started.” You had a sly smile on your lips as you followed Steve up to his room.
Once inside his little safe haven, he closed the door and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him before he guided you back to his mattress.
When your back hit the mattress, you started to get nervous. hearing all the girls at school talk about steve and what he did right before sex had you wondering what they were talking about back then. Now that you were seeing first hand, your nerves were starting to show.
He crawled on top of you, a small smile adorning his features before he kissed you again. He went to kiss your neck, not missing the light gasp that came from your mouth. 
“Mmm, Steve?”
“Yeah, baby?” he whispered.
“M-maybe we should, uhm… should take things a little slow,” you said, it coming out more as a question than a statement.
He looked at you, cupping your cheek. “We can go at whatever pace you want.”
“Okay,” you breathed, smiling. “ ‘cause I've, uhm… I’ve never-”
Realization dawned on him as you stammered out your words before he quietly asked, “Are you a virgin?”
Looking down at his shirt, you messed with a spot on it, hesitantly nodding your head. When you looked back up at him, he was softly smiling back at you.
“That's okay, baby. I'm glad you told me. Like I said, we can go at whatever pace you want.”
With tears starting to shine in your eyes, you just looked at him, thanking the stars above that they put Steve Harrington into your life. “Thank you,” you whispered.
He kissed you again before getting up off the bed to retrieve some pajama pants for himself, and one of his sleeping shirts for you.
That night, you had the best sleep since November 1983. you almost forgot what it felt like to sleep that good! and it was all thanks to Steve Harrington.
~~~
After that night, you and Steve were practically joined at the hip for the next month! By Christmas, he was calling you his girlfriend, which you didn’t mind not one bit. 
You found yourself ready for intimacy with Steve. You’d been hinting at it while Christmas shopping for your friends and families. Deciding to hint at it one more time to see if he would catch on while the two of you shopped, you stopped at the Victoria’s Secret storefront for a moment before walking inside the store.
“Hey, Steve?” you called after a few minutes of looking around. “What do you think about this?”
Steve walked over towards you, seeing a very sexy piece of lingerie in your hands. “F-for what?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. His nervous tick you had noticed way back in high school.
“For me?” you questioned, looking at him with your brows scrunched. “I mean, it’s cute, right?” You went back to looking at the material in your hands. “It’d be cute on, sure, but… wouldn’t it be cute-” You turned to look at him, running your finger up and down his jacket, seductively. “-on your bedroom floor?”
You watched as Steve’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Cheering internally, you were so proud of yourself for taking a step out of your comfort zone. What you didn’t know was that Steve’s cock twitched again when you said it. 
Sighing, you looked at the rack and put the piece of lingerie back, looking at it almost longingly. You knew you were putting on an act, but Steve didn’t. It’s what made it fun for you, despite your inexperience.
Steve had inkling that you were probably getting to give him what you both really wanted, but he ended up shooting that idea down when you told him you didn’t want to talk about it a couple of weeks back.
It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about. It’s that if you did talk about it, you’d want to jump his bones right then and there… when you weren’t ready. And now that you were ready, it seemed like Steve went radio silent on talking about sex.
When Steve had told you that he was gonna go look for one more person to buy a Christmas gift for, your eyes went sad before you nodded and agreed to meet him in the food court. Once he walked away, you smirked slyly to yourself, picking the piece of lingerie back up and walking to the counter, purchasing the material for yourself, deciding that tonight… was going to be the night.
~~~
After you and Steve had met in the food court, you both agreed it was time to go back to his house since your parents were having a Christmas party with all of their friends, something you definitely were not interested in doing at the moment.
When you two made it back to Steve’s house, you told him you needed to do something before you sat down on the couch to enjoy a quiet movie night together. With a smile on your face, you ran up the stairs and to his room, shutting the door before moving to his attached bathroom.
Taking the lingerie out of the bag, your smile fell into a satisfied one as you looked at it. With a contented sigh, you nodded your head, placing it onto the counter part of the sink, removing your clothes and undergarments from the day to put the lingerie on. Deciding to put on some of Steve’s favorite pajamas that you wore, you went to the drawer that housed your pajamas, grabbing the ones you needed out.
After you got dressed, you went back down the stairs, smelling the popcorn that Steve had apparently made. If you hadn’t had sexy underwear on, you’d be more excited about the popcorn.
You wrapped your arms around his middle once you made it to the kitchen, resting your cheek on his back, faintly hearing his heartbeat through his back.
“Well, hello,” Steve said, smiling. He turned around, your head tilting back a little to look at him better as his hands came to your cheeks. “You ready for our movie?”
“Is it-”
“A Christmas Story? Yes. I know you love to watch it during this time of the year.”
All you could do was smile at your boyfriend. You hadn’t been together long, but you could feel the love you had for each other. You also decided that tonight was the night you’d tell him those three words.
Reaching around Steve, you grabbed the popcorn, popping a piece into your mouth while turning and walking into the living room, giving your hips little more swing than normal.
Steve gulped, resting his hands on the counter behind him. “Fuck. I’m in trouble,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed the two water bottles he retrieved from the refrigerator as the popcorn was popping before going into the living with you, stopping dead in his tracks at seeing what you were wearing.
Trying to be as seductive as ever, you put a piece of popcorn into your mouth, asking, “See what you like, Steve?”
He didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked closer to you. After he set the water bottles down, he grabbed the bowl from you, setting it on the table before placing his lips on yours in a searing kiss.
You squealed in surprise before closing your eyes to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him back with the same amount of fervor he was kissing you with. Your body moved before you could even think about it, sliding down the couch so that the two of you could get more comfortable.
Steve slotted himself in between your legs, propping himself up on his arms to not crush you. He moved his lips in sync with yours for what felt like forever before he moved his lips from yours to your cheek down to your jaw and neck, where he found your sweet spot, lightly sucking when he heard your gasp of pleasure.
Your fingers carded through the back of his hair, keeping him in place while he worked on your skin. A moan that had escaped had him laughing and kissing that spot he was attacking before looking you in the eyes.
“You like that?” he asked.
With your bottom lip in between your teeth, you nodded before kissing him again, your lips moving in sync before his tongue asked for entrance to your mouth, which you granted. Groaning at the feel on your tongue on his, Steve brought a hand to your outer thigh, hiking your leg up on his hip.
“Steve,” you quietly moaned. “I have,-” His lips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder had you gasping. “I have something,-” Your teeth went in between your teeth as you groaned. “I have-,” Steve moved to your shoulder, pulling the top of your sleeve down before stopping at what he saw. When you looked at his eyes, you giggled. “I was trying to tell you that I have something to show you.”
Lightly pushing Steve off of you, you sat up and stood by the couch, a playful smirk on your face before you turned and ran away from him, laughing. He lightly chuckled as he looked down before taking a deep breath in and getting up from the couch, chasing after you.
He found you in his room, and he almost fell at the sight before him. You, in the lingerie you had shown him at the mall just a few hours before. “You-you bought it in r-red?” he stuttered.
When your eyes met, you nodded shyly, feeling a tad insecure just standing in some sexy underwear in front of him. This was way out of your comfort zone. Excitement burst through you as you watched Steve take his shirt off as he walked towards you, his hands going to your cheeks after he discarded the item to the floor, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that could only be described as heated and hungry.
You moaned into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He picked you up, your legs going around his middle as he turned you both around to lay you down onto his bed, your bodies bouncing with the action. 
Detaching his lips from yours, Steve sat back on his legs, running his hands up your thighs to the top of your panites. “Can I take these off?” he asked.
With your teeth between your lips, you nodded.
He gave you a questioning look, asking, “Are you sure? Because once these come off, there’s no going back.”
“I’m sure,” you whispered. “I’m ready. I want you to take me. Deflower me, as they would say.” Sitting up, you placed your hands on his chest, fingers lightly scratching at the hair that was there. “You’re it for me, Steve. Take it… because I want you to be the one who takes my virginity. Because…” It’s now or never. “...because I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed, moving to press his lips against yours before gently laying you back. Slowly pulling the panties down your legs, Steve kept his eyes on you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in the slightest.
When he pulled the item off, he dropped them to the ground before looking at your knees that were tightly shut. Gently, he pried them apart, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered, leaning down to hover over you. “You have not a damn thing to hide from me.”
You nodded before situating yourself up the mattress more, resting your head on his pillow before releasing a deep breath and looking down at Steve, who was already laying on his stomach, looking at your core in awe.
“You’re so wet,” he muttered. Looking up at you, he asked, “This all for me?”
Tentatively, you nodded, doing your best to relax your knees. “All for you, Stevie.” At his look of disapproval, your anxiety started to spike. 
He placed his hands on your thighs as you tried to close your legs. “Not Stevie. Not tonight.”
“S-Steve?” you asked, to which he shook his head. “Steven?”
He all but growled as he looked at your wet heat, licking a strip from your entrance up to your clit, your head tossing back into the pillows as you gasped, your hands coming up to rest beside your head.
“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Steven!” 
“That’s right, baby,” he said. “Say my name. Screeeeeam my name.”
“Steve,” you whispered, feeling his tongue attack your clit. You gripped the underside of his pillow for some sort of support as he licked another stripe up your core, stopping on your clit. His attention on your bud was almost like he was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. 
Moving one of your hands to your thigh, your fingers laced with Steve’s as you felt your orgasm building. “Oh, my god!” you whined. Looking down at Steve, you breathed, “Holy shit.” 
Looking up at you, Steve asked, “It okay if I finger you?”
Quickly nodding your head, you said, “Yes,” before another whine left your throat at the feel of two of Steve’s fingers sliding into you with ease from all the slick that you and Steve had built up. 
Your moans came out as pants as you squeezed Steve’s hand, feeling him squeeze yours back. “St-Steve… I’m gonna cum.”  A frustrated groan sounded from you when you felt Steve stop all movements. Glaring down at him, you narrowed your eyes, saying, “I swear to god, Steven-.” Your words were cut when he dove back into your core, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you came all over his fingers.
Steve helped you ride out your high, giving you sweet praises as he kissed your inner thigh. “That’s it, baby. You did so good.” Crawling back over you, he smiled before placing his lips on yours, your lips moving in sync as you worked on unbuckling his belt, removing it from its loops on his jeans.
Standing from the bed, Steve slid jeans and boxers down as you propped up on your elbows, teeth right back in between your teeth. He chuckled at you as your eyes went from his eyes, to his chest, his abdomen, and then finally, on his cock. 
Nerves started to creep back in as you trailed your eyes back up his body. “Is… it’s gonna fit, right?” you asked, watching as he slid the condom onto his length before crawling back over you.
He nodded, running a finger through your folds. “It’ll fit.” Grabbing his shaft, he gathered as much wetness from your entrance as he could before going still, letting out a breath. Looking at you, he asked, “It’s gonna hurt. Are you ready for it?”
You let out your own breath, closing your eyes to ready yourself. When you opened your eyes, you looked into the hazel orbs that you loved so much. Threading your hands through the sides of his hair, you nodded, whispering, “I’m ready.”
Steve looked at you for a moment before kissing you, gently, while pushing himself inside of you.
A pained gasp sounded from you, tears springing to your eyes at the intrusion as you squeezed them shut while Steve rested his forehead on your shoulder, grunting. Kissing your shoulder all the way up to the side of your mouth, he voiced his apologies, bringing his arms up to cage in your head, wiping your tears away.
The head of his cock was the only thing inside of you, so when he tried to move in a little more, you whimpered.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. 
You shook your head, swallowing the next whimper that wanted to escape. “It’s okay, it’s fine. Just… gimme a second. You’re fucking huge.”
Sighing, he said, “You’re so fucking tight.” He looked at you, moving hair from your forehead, saying, “Baby, look at me.”
Opening your eyes, you felt two tears fall from the corners down to your ears. He watched as they fell, catching them before they could fall to your ears.
“I gotta try some more or else I’m gonna explode.”
Your chuckle turned into a whimper, almost forgetting that his dick was partially inside you. You took a deep breath, releasing it as you said, “Okay.” Nodding you repeated the word, adding, “Kiss me while you do. It might help the small amount of p-”
He kissed you before you could finish your sentence, pushing inside until he was fully sheathed. 
Breaking the kiss, your head pressed further into the pillow as you loudly exclaimed, “Fuck! That hurts.”
Ever the gentleman that he was, Steve let you adjust to his size as he pressed light kisses all over your cheek, feeling your quick breaths as you adjusted, the pain turning into pleasure.
You sighed, taking the sides of his neck in your hands to bring his face level with yours. “You-you can move now. I think I’m good.”
Steve didn’t say anything as he kissed you, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in, the both of you hissing. He set a slow pace to help you get acquainted with the feel of his cock sliding in and out.
“More,” you gasped. “Steven… more.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, going at a faster pace, whines of pleasure meeting his ears. “You feel incredible, baby girl.”
You moaned, arching your back at the use of the nickname before whining in pleasure as Steve bucked a little harder than he intended. “Fuck, Steve. Do that again.”
He looked at you, stopping his movements. “You sure?”
“I swear to fuck, Steve, if you don’t move-” Your words were cut off by a gasp in pleasure at the feel of Steve’s hips snapping into yours. “Ho-ly shit,” you said with each thrust of his hips.
“Goddamn, you feel incredible,” Steve grunted.
“You might’ve mentioned that,” you said, a smile on your face. 
Gasping, you carded your fingers through the back of his head, gripping onto his locks gently as he brought his fingers to your clit, circling the sensitive nub. “Mmm!” you half moaned, half whined, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Steven! I’m gonna-” Your words were once again cut off as your release hit you before you could voice it.
“Shit, baby girl. I’m gonna cum,” Steve breathed, his thrusts growing sloppy. One, two, three, four, five more thrusts and he was spent, his seed spilling into the condom.
You could feel him pulsing inside of you, which was a weird feeling in and of itself
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breaths… before you started giggling, which turned into full on laughter.
Steve looked at you with concern. “Baby?” 
“Oh, my god,” you laughed. You looked at him, trying to control your laughter. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life.”
Steve chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder. With a soft groan, he lifted himself up to rest on his hands, looking at you with so much love and adoration. “I have pull out now ‘cause I’m starting to get soft.”
You nodded, ready for that small amount of sting that everyone talks about. Hissing came from both of you as he pulled out. But what you felt wasn’t pain, it was the feeling of the tiniest bit of overstimulation, your body jolting a little.
“You okay?” Steve asked, sitting back on his knees, rubbing your calf.
Your answer came as a nod, a sigh falling from your lips as he nodded to himself, bending over to kiss your knee before getting up off the bed to clean himself up. Not knowing what to do, you sat up on your elbows, looking around his room. 
When you turned over to look at his nightstand, you noticed the picture frame sitting next to his lamp. Inside was a picture of the two of you after one of Steve’s basketball games.You both were smiling big, but as you were looking at the camera, Steve was looking at you. That was a happy day for the two of you.
The Hawkins High Tigers had won that game, and you both were elated, high on adrenaline. That was the night the two of you realized that you liked each other more than friends, but never voiced anything to each other, not knowing you both felt the same.
When Steve came out of his bathroom sighing, he looked up at you, seeing the frame in your hand that you had picked while thinking about that night. “What’cha doing?” Steve asked, crawling on the bed behind you, kissing your shoulder.
“Thinking about the night this picture was taken,” you said, hissing at the end from the feel of something warm on your sore core. Taking a deep breath, you released it as you turned to lay on your back, picture frame still in your hand above your face. “That night…-” you whispered. “...was the night I realized I liked you as more than a friend.”
Steve laid next to you, kissing your shoulder again as he put his arm around your middle. He looked at the picture, smiling to himself as he also thought about that night. When he saw in the crowd, cheering him on while wearing his number on your face, he knew. He knew that you were the one for him.
He played his heart out that night, only taking a couple breaks to catch his breath. When he turned to see if you were looking at him or watching the game, he would smile to himself, seeing you angry at something the other team did to the Hawkins players.
When you placed the picture back on his nightstand, he sighed softly, closing his eyes before opening them up again at feeling you move under his arm. Laying on your side, you looked at him, staring into those hazel eyes that you fell in love with all those years ago.
“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your arm up between the two of you, placing your fingertips on his jaw.
“For what?” he asked, softly.
“Giving me the best night of my life.” Smiling, you cupped his face the best you could, lifting your head from the pillow the slightest bit to press a kiss to his lips. 
“You’re welcome,” he replied, pressing his lips back on yours.
Before the two of you feel asleep just as you were, your asses bare for the world to see, you both said those three words that were confessed earlier in the night.
“I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes: we’re also adding a lot of new things up top! let me know what y’all think about that! is it more organized, is it more chaotic? let me know! :)
~~~
Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @stixnstripesworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @quanticobae @mischiefandi @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak
Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe​
If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.
Italics wouldn’t let me tag!
~~~
*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Posted on January 13, 2024
437 notes · View notes
rosewaterandivy · 7 months
Text
girl crush
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Summary: there’s more than two beds, but of course you sleep in his.
W.C.: 2.5k
Warnings: y’all know me - it’ll be the usual! Smut, idolatry, devotion, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pussy drunk Steve— I don’t make the rules 😤‼️
a/n: aka your first time with Steve, who may or may not be your boyfriend?
🎶 I’ve got a girl crush, I don’t get no sleep, I don’t get no peace, thinkin’ bout her 🎶
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“Wish I could babe,” his voice sounds distant over the phone, wind whipping every other word through the mic, “But we just started production out here, we won’t wrap for a while yet.” You’d caught him during a break in filming, miraculously.
Several dates in LA after an introduction from Eddie, and here you are trying (and failing) to plan another. He’s back in California after a press tour and you were fresh off of recording your latest album.
“Well,” you drawl out, “I could come to you?” The question is rushed, breathless, you screw your eyes close in fear of fucking it all up.
A pause.
“You sure?”
“S’easier than dealing with your schedule, Harrington,” you say lightly, “Palm Springs is doable enough.”
He’s working on some indie picture out in the desert, you were murky on the details. You hear shuffling from his end and ‘psst’s trying to get someone’s attention.
“Rob… Rob! Can you– yeah, the address?”
A moment later your phone dings with a notification.
“So,” you say, throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag, “What’ve you got planned for us?”
Three or so hours later finds you in the desert and absolutely ecstatic about it. Dressed down in cut-offs and an old merch tank–or, as dressed down as you could get–you breathe in deep, thankful to be out of LA. Little to no paps and tabloids to be worried about–or worse, Deuxmoi acolytes–so you could finally relax.
Steve met you out front with the fattest joint you’d seen in years, he nearly dropped it when you all but tackled him to the ground. You were so happy to be with him again.
“Little soon to be proposing, no?”
“Think I’d do better than some hydro from Arglye,” he grouses, but you take it from him anyway with a deep inhale, “Says ‘hi’ by the way.”
“Tell him I accept and we’re registered at Tiffany’s,” you say finally, exhaling slowly.
He rolls his eyes, “Okay, Material Girl,” he helps to hoist you back up, “Tour time.”
After the grand tour, which was impressive–“Holy shit, do you have Robin on retainer? ‘Cause if not...”--Steve entertained you in the kitchen, making what he called the ‘secret sauce.’
“Oh, that?” you scoff, pouring some wine, “Had that on date number two, if you’ll recall.” You take a sip and continue with a waggle of your brows, “My compliments to the chef, as ever.”
Steve blushes at that, recalling how pretty you had looked with your glossed lips around his cock, all warm and soft under the dim light from the setting sun. A groan rumbles from his chest as he braces himself against the countertop, knuckles turning white.
“You’re a menace,” he said, voice low and gravelly, before he turned his attention back to the pots and pans on the stove.
You shrug and drink some wine, savoring the crisp tart taste against your tongue. Steve flits from one spot to the next while he cooks, stirring the sauce one moment and blanching veggies the next; all the while, remaining loose enough to pour a second glass of wine for you and another for himself.
Infuriatingly attractive that.
The sun had gone down in the desert while Steve finished with the pasta. You’d assigned yourself the task of setting the table and doing the dishes after dinner. Plates and cutlery arranged, you helped yourself to some salad while Steve served the pasta.
You mouth had already been watering at the mere scent of whatever was bubbling away on the stove, and all it took was one bite to have you audibly moaning at the dinner table. His eyes met yours, mischievous and curious, as he sipped his wine.
“Fuck me, that’s good,” you say with closed eyes, savoring the taste.
Steve laughs quietly across the table.
Dinner goes on, you try to reign in your vocal appreciation of the meal. He fills you in on some details of the shoot, set gossip, and the like. You offer up the scant information you have about the upcoming tour and album release. Clearing the table is easy enough between the two of you, knocking hips every so often as you washed and he dried the dishes.
You ended up in his bedroom, collecting the duffle you’d packed from the guest room down the hall. It was a kind thought, that you would opt for a separate room and your own space; he was hesitant like that, never wanting to assume.
Electing to change in the ensuite bathroom, you step out of the denim cutoffs and fold them neatly on the counter. Shoes had been kicked off at the front door earlier in the evening, leaving you now in an ancient Corroded Coffin shirt that had seen better days. He’s sat on the bed, looking all soft and sweet–tousled hair and wire rimmed glasses framing his face nicely, skin flushed from the wine.
He bit his lip when he saw you come out, hair a mess and legs, legs, legs, but a vision nevertheless. He can’t help himself as you step between his splayed knees at the edge of the bed, his hands coming to rest against he curve of your hips.
“Hey honey,” he murmurs as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Hey Steve,” you greet in return, lips pulled tight in an embarrassed smile.
Gently, he tugs you closer to him, the fabric of the shirt rucking up against your skin. His finger skirts against the back of your thigh, the skin shivering involuntarily. “Missed you,” he says, voice raspy and low.
His soft gaze lingers on you, warm hazel eyes looking up through long lashes. “Missed you too,” you say quietly.
“Yeah?” he asks, fingers grasping at the flare of your hips before he leans back on the bed, “C’mere then.”
As you clamber onto the bed, he lays back against the cool cotton of the duvet pulling you down with him. Substantively seated in his lap, you rest your head against his chest and let out a sigh.
“Comfy?” he says, a hand trailing lazily up and down your back. You nod, fingering the fabric of the shirt between your fingers. Softened by time and wear, paint and lettering disintegrating each time you wore it. It smells comforting like you–cardamom and sandalwood with a hint of something boozy–smells like home.
“I’ll keep you close then.”
His other arms falls against your hips while he continues to trace shapes against your back. You feel his lips leave at the crown of your head before his head falls back against the mattress. It’s quiet and he can tell from the rhythm of your breathing that you’re a few minutes from falling asleep.
The nation’s favorite spitfire in his bed, face nuzzled into his chest, bit by bit chiseling your way into his heart.
Steve lets his teeth worry his bottom lip, willing his nerves not to get the best of him. “Y’know, I really like you.”
“Mmm,” your drowsy moan comforting, the lazy smile tugging at your lips setting off the butterflies in his stomach. “I really like you too.”
Fuck, he hadn’t been this nervous in a while. And yeah, you’d been seeing each other for a minute but not long enough to have the ‘what are we’ conversation.
His hand tangles in your hair, loose and windswept from the drive, fingers scratching lightly at your scalp. A muffled moan pours from your lips and vibrates his chest.
“Sorry, sorry” you slur sleepily, “M’not normally such a lightweight.”
Steve, for his part, doesn’t think anything of it. You’d had, what, one glass of wine at dinner— maybe two? But you could be tired from the drive.
Maybe he’s misreading this thing entirely. A brief flicker of panic licks up his spine; maybe it’s too soon, maybe you just want to sleep—
“Can hear you thinkin’ up there,” you mumble and pull him from his downward spiral. A brief movement as you settle your chin to his chest and glance up. Your eyes are half-lidded and sultry, lips pulled in an enticing fashion.
He grunts when you shift your weight until you’re practically sitting on his chest to keep him breathless. He’s smiling up toward the ceiling, one side of his lips curled upward, jaw slack, easy and yielding because Steve offers himself to everything like this: headfirst and wide-open.
It’s be infuriating if he wasn’t crashing headlong toward you. It’d be irritating if he wasn’t so damn earnest about it.
After a while of feeling out each other's atmosphere, eyes catching every so often before flitting away to focus on something else, Steve arches up to request a kiss, all warmth and need.
You lean down to touch your lips to his gently, brushing your nose with his along the way— a wholly delicate gesture he never would’ve expected from you, but has grown to adore.
“We can go slow,” you breathe against his lips. “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Steve’s stomach swoops. He reaches up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing your forehead to his. “That so?”
You're smiling— so big and beautiful it hurts. And his heart is so loud he thinks you must hear it.
The kiss was clumsy, you chalked it up to too much drink, but the touch of your lips to his burned down his throat, like whiskey and joy— warm and smooth and cataclysmic as his hand cupped your face. You kiss him and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush in excitement because you’re not letting go, so he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning all the ways you like to feel him there.
“Steve,” you breathe, and it lights him up. “Steve,” you say again, and his eyes slip shut. Even now, he’s crushed with longing.
You press the heat of your core into his groin, grinding your hips into his.  
When your tongue touches him again, he thinks he might go blind. His eyes flutter open as much as they can, to savor the moment of your face so close to his. Your eyes, shut. Your skin, flushed. Your hair, a silky, folded curtain against his chest.
You are straddling Steve’s thigh now, sitting on your knees and moving against his thick limb in slow orbits. The underwear sitting against your hips is still there but does nothing to keep the slickness between your legs at bay. His thigh is moist from it, and it catches a shine in the fading light.
“Need you, baby,” you plead. “Any way you want.”
You glow like a full moon in the night, divining his animal desires with phosphorescent eyes.
Too eager now with permission. Too eager now with the fiercest kind of lust—of love—he lets it go. All for you, and you all for him. He nips at your collar, drowning deeper and deeper. Fingers meandering to hook into the gauzy and damp fabric hiding you from him and pulls. Wants you bare and shuddering beneath him. Hip bones against hip bones, the noises you make—ragged and hoarse—sending tremors down his back.
Steve grips your waist and moves you from his leg. A whimper escapes before it turns into a gasp as he turns you around, back meeting the cool of the sheets. “You call it, sweetheart.” Comes his husky voice in your ear. You know he means it completely.
A moan slips forth when he dives into the back of your shirt and tears it off, does the same with his. He wants to hear that noise again. The two of you are entwined like real lovers, pulling apart only to breathe and whisper to each other.
He falls onto his forearms, touching foreheads together, noses together, lips hovering until you meet him in a sloppy half-kiss, tongue slipping over his, spit and sweat shimmering across your mouth.
Steve doesn’t bother taking his boxer-briefs off completely, crumpling them down just below his cock is enough for him to slide in like he was created for you. He tells you as much, as you whimper and cry out beneath him.
“Look at me,” He prompts, tilting your face so you see where he’s connected to you. He’s searing hot as he thrusts upwards. “You were made for this.” He’s delirious with it, the heavy thrum that flows through the union of your bodies, “You were made for me.”
Like a prayer, he repeats your name.
Inside of that deafening miasma, Steve is still awake and a part of him knows that this is what he’d been longing for. His cock is throbbing inside of you and every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, your cunt wipes any shred of doubt from his mind.
Your head tips backwards and he catches the base of your skull in one giant hand. “So good,” you praise, “You’re so good, Steve.”
God, he’s so hard. Cramming himself inside your body, torso to torso, as close as he can get because he needs it—he needs it so bad.
He’s blind with it, drunk off it, beginning to rut like he’s in heat, surprised at the confessions he burns into your neck g’na marry you, fuck— that have you gasping and clenching in equal measure. Catalogues and litanies of honey, baby, fuckfuckfuck, god—growling devotions sinking into your throat, your shoulder, your chest. Sucking inscriptions in the common tongue of love as they slip past his lips.
You take all of him again and again, matching his pace, eyes squeezed shut, opening briefly but dazed. Panting and pleading his name, sudden waves of orgasm making you shake and shiver. Then he starts again— easier, kinder, letting the beast work its way back through his skin. Tongue sweeping lines. Canines pulling flesh.
You sigh and smile. A sacred dream of flesh and blood wrapped around him. “Wanna see you, baby,” you say, “Let me see you, sweetheart.”
So he does, blinking through the darkness and finds you like a beacon, as you always are, as you always will be. His hair falls to one side, lighter from the summer sun, suspended and rocking along.
“’S that good? Like this?”
“Yeah. Yes,” he babbles, “Wanna give you everything.”
“Come with me, Steve—come on, baby.”
And it’s all so fast. Your words. His words. Your hands. His hands. Hips moving in heavy thrusts and hair falling over his face and endless moans of god, fuck, 'm gonna come at the last minute before his eyes roll back behind his lids.
Steve buries his face into your neck, groaning. “Mine,” he whispers finally coming back to himself. Raspy and slow and again when you gasp. Your nails dig into his back reflexively, thighs squeezing him tight.
He’s smiling like an idiot because he doesn’t know what else to do about it. His heart is fluttering and filling up. He looked at you for too long, thought about you too hard even though you’re right here and his, and maybe that’s what launched itself into his dizzy head.
A hard kiss that makes you whimper. Mine. Another to the line of your open jaw. Mine. Your throat. Your collar. Your chest. Mine. Mine. Mine.
You smile into his temple, rubbing your cheek on him, too. 
“Keeping me all to yourself?”
He nods eagerly, heart full, then overflowing. “Keeping you forever.”
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thornsnvultures · 6 months
Text
heaven can('t) wait
steve harrington x plus size!fem!reader
tweaked a bit from this anon request (sorry it took song long), less angst and more silly because I like writing readers who are secure in their bodies, it's healing for me. I hope you like it!
cw: 18+ nsft, smut, afab!reader, body worship, new relationship insecurities, oral (fem recieving), fingering, p in v sex, spanking, light breath play, Daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie (if there's anything I missed lmk), >2k words
divider by @/saradika
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"Get your butt out here before I come in and get'cha."
You could practically hear Steve's hands on his hips through the bathroom door. But you weren't coming out. Not like this. Steve wanted you to try on his old gym shorts before he got rid of them.
You should've listened to your gut; the damn things didn't fit. Well, you were able to get them up and over your ass, but the waistband dug into your tummy making it spill over the top and the material was digging into your thighs. You felt like a can of biscuits about to pop.
Now, it wasn't your body's fault for being built the way it was. You've always been soft around the edges, had plenty of hips and thighs and tummy to spare since you hit puberty and you were fine with that. It was these damn shorts, they just weren't made for you. Obviously, they were men's shorts. And a size too small.
"You overestimated what these shorts were capable of, Harrington," you called as you twisted and turned in the mirror. You had to admit your ass looked good, like those girls at the gym who scrunched their yoga shorts up their entire butt like their ass was having them for dinner.
But you still weren't comfortable with Steve seeing you like this. As much as you were okay with your body, this relationship was...new. You'd been hurt before. Was now the time you wanted to test your relationship? See if Steve was the kinda guy to really hurt you?
"You've got until the count of three, baby," Steve yelled, a playfulness in his voice that made your heart race. You almost wanted to push him, have him bust in here and let him punish you for not listening when he used his "babysitter voice". More like his Daddy voice. A thrill rushed through you, running straight through to your clit. Steve was at two and a half when you shook yourself out of it.
"Two and three quarters..."
Steve was grinning at you when you threw the door open.
"Three. They don't fit, Steve."
"I don't know about that," Steve said as he took a step back. "They look like they fit just right."
You pluck at the waistband, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "They clearly don't. See, they're digging in."
"Lemme see," Steve said, his voice sounding deeper, his eyes narrowed in on your exposed tummy. You watch him drop to his knees in front of you, your breath catching in your throat. Steve's hands travel up your legs, over your thighs and hips until they reach the waistband of the shorts.
Slowly, Steve peels down the elastic, revealing the indents where it dug into your skin.
"You poor thing," Steve whispers as he kisses your skin, feather-light brushes of chapstick smooth lips that soothe where you ache. Well, not everywhere.
"Steve," you run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head as he moves across the expanse of your tummy. Yeah, if you were testing him, Steve would be passing with flying colors.
Moving to your hips, Steve pulled the shorts down further, exposing the sides of your panties where they hugged your hips. With the shorts now around your thighs, you found it harder to move. If you wanted to pull away from Steve now, you might fall over. Thankfully his hands were cradling your ass now, kneading and squeezing your supple flesh. How thoughtful of him to keep you upright.
You couldn't help but laugh at yourself, at being stuck and the wild sight of your big beautiful man worshiping you on his knees.
"What's so funny, baby," Steve stops his tickling kisses to bite at your hip, not too hard but hard enough to make you yelp and to leave a mark. "Got something you wanna tell the class?" Steve punctuates his sentence with a slap to your ass.
"Get me out of these shorts, Harrington," you wriggle around in his hold, your ass stinging and your pussy throbbing from all this love and affection. "They're cutting off my circulation."
Steve all but growls watching you jiggle in his hold. He yanks his shorts off you, your panties too, throwing them across the room.
"S'that better?"
Steve doesn't wait for you to answer before he's pulling you forward and slamming the bathroom door closed behind you. Suddenly you're being turned around and pushed face first into the door. Steve's spreading your legs apart and nudging your lower back down with one hand on your spine until your back is arched and you're spread wide open.
"This is for making me wait."
You shout when Steve slaps your ass again.
"Steve, please," you whine, your ass smarting from Steve's heavy hand.
"Should've came out when I told you to, pretty girl," Steve nips at your cheeks, trailing kisses behind the pain.
He's very pointedly ignoring your pussy, the bastard. You squirm, trying to entice him closer to your core as your head falls to the door with a groan.
"Next time you decide to hide this hot little body from me, you don't get to come at all."
Steve smacks your ass again, the hardest one yet, and dives face first into your pussy. He spreads your ass open with his big fucking hands, locking eyes with you over your shoulder as he tongues your pussy.
Steve sucks your clit and you can't hold back your screams. Not that you would bother if there was. His tongue feels way too good flicking back and forth over your sensitive nub, alternating between that and sucking your soul out.
"Tell Daddy you're sorry," Steve growls when he comes up for air. "Tell him you won't hide from him again if you want this dick."
Steve slides his fingers into your cunt, two thick fingers that make your eyes roll back and your jaw drop before you can say a word. A long, deep whine falls from your lips. Any smart-ass remark you want to make is lost in the way he curls his fingers inside you, immediately finding the spot that turns you to goo.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. Sorry, I'm sorry," you babble. "Won't hide again. Please please please."
"That's it, baby," Steve purrs, his fingers stretching you open. "Beg for it."
You whine and cry and beg for his dick but all he gives you is his fingers. Fucking you deep until you're gushing, drooling down his arm.
Steve reaches around your side to hold your tummy. His fingers dig into soft flesh and he groans, biting the swell of your ass that jiggle by his face.
"So fucking sexy, baby. Love watching you fall apart for me."
"Daddy, please," you cry out as you come on his fingers again. "Need you inside me."
"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Steve stands, his fingers still filling your cunt like he's stuck. He bends over your arched back to nuzzle into your cheek, his thick cock pressing into your hip. His face is wet with your slick, you can smell yourself all over him and it makes your pussy clench around his fingers.
"Please," you whine. "Need you to fuck me. Daddy."
Steve inhales, his chest expanding against your back. He keeps his fingers in your cunt, stroking you lovingly from the inside, while he pushes his sweatpants down. You hear him step out of them and for a brief moment you're empty, hollow without him.
But the feeling is gone as quickly as it came when Steve taps his dick against your lips.
"Ready, baby?"
You nod, your hands braced against the bathroom door as Steve begins to ease his cock inside. It's a tight fit, Steve's almost too big. Just enough that you're panting and telling yourself to relax so you can take it but not too much that it hurts. He doesn't want to hurt you, he tells you that himself.
"Let me in, sweet girl. God, you're gripping me so tight. Let me all the way in, you feel so good."
Steve noses at your cheek, his chest rubbing against your back. He must've taken off his shirt while he was feeding you his cock because you feel the hair on his chest tickling your skin.
"That's it, baby," Steve says through his teeth once he's all the way in. He only lets you settle for a moment before he's pounding in and out, over and over. The door rattles under your palms with the force of his thrusts and you cry out.
"Fuck, Steve, yes!"
"What's my name?" Steve takes you by the throat, not pressing hard enough to take away your breath but to turn your head so he can capture your lips in a kiss before he asks you again. "What's my name, baby?"
"Daddy!"
Steve's hips hit even harder, drilling into you. He never takes his eyes off you, holding your face to look at him as he gives your neck a squeeze.
"Who's body is this?"
"Yours, it's yours."
"That's right."
Steve pulls out of you with a slick squelch and leads you by the neck to his bed. He pushes you down on it and watches you inch back towards his pillows. He looks so wild. His hair sticking up in places, his chest red and heaving. Steve pumps his wet dick and climbs up after you. He grabs your legs by the backs of your thighs and pushes them up, all the way up to your chest. Your thick thighs frame your belly and squish your tits and Steve is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. The monster between his legs twitches in his grip.
"It's all yours, Daddy. I'm all yours."
"Yes, you are," Steve grins as he slides his cock home, right where it belongs. "Every inch of you. No matter what clothes you wear or what you look like," Steve groans, easing his cock in and out. His arms bracket your head, leaning his big body into your space until he's a breath away and resting his forehead on yours. "You're mine. All mine."
You can't do anything but breath him in and feel. The way his cock bullies that spot in you over and over. How your nails dig into Steve's back and he doesn't even flinch, too focused on making you cum again. You try to meet his thrusts, arching your back, his twisting because it's too much, it feels too good.
"Fuck, Steve. Daddy, I'm cumming, I'm-"
"Yes, yes, that's it. That's it, baby," Steve watches as your mouth drops in a silent scream, your eyes rolling back, all the air getting stuck in your lungs as you shatter. "So perfect, my perfect girl. Fuck, gonna fill you up. Fill my pussy up with cum," Steve grits through his teeth.
Your hands grab his face, forcing him to look at your blissed out face.
"Give me your baby, Daddy."
Steve's eyes roll back in his head and his whole body shudders. He warms your insides, filling you up just like he said he would until he's leaking out, dripping onto the bed.
"God, why did you say that," Steve groans into your neck.
"Cause I knew it would make you cum," you laugh.
"Should've never told you I wanted kids."
You laugh again as Steve rolls off you, getting up to grab a towel.
"Should've never told me I had nice, wide birthing hips either, Daddy."
Steve throws the towel at you cackling on the bed.
"I was drunk!"
"You wanted me so bad it made you stupid," you smile at him and pull him in for a kiss when he reaches for the towel.
"You're right. Those shorts made me stupid. I saw them and I knew they wouldn't fit but I needed to see you in them anyway."
"Steve!"
"Tell me it wasn't worth it!" Steve smiles and you bite your lip watching him wipe his softening dick clean. You should be doing that, not the towel. Next time.
"It was worth it, you're right," you purr, taking Steve into your arms when he crawls back into bed. "Next time can you buy me some sexy lingerie or something instead of tricking me into feeling like a packed can of sardines?"
Steve laughs and kisses you silly. "Keep calling me 'Daddy' and I'll do whatever you want, beautiful."
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