thinkingoutlouddblog

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

I have been working on sooo many new fics for casual sex!Spencer so I wanted to give you guys a little teaser of what's to come :)

spencer reid masterlist

CASUAL SEX!SPENCER: ongoing interconnected standalones (contains smut, soft dom!Spencer, fools in love, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, sweet florist!reader)

the agreement (smut/fluff) - in which you only see Spencer when there is something he needs to forget

EXCERPT:

You know it’s been a particularly bad case when Spencer Reid comes knocking on your front door. 

When he needs to forget. That is your agreement. 

Spencer allows you a split second to register that it is him you have opened the door to, and then he is surging forward, grabbing your face with both hands. The kiss is needy and harsh. He kisses you like he wants to devour you. This is how you know you are in for a good night. Hot, heavy and rough, just how you like him.

➽──────────────❥

the hospital (hurt/comfort) *COMING SOON* - in which you call the only doctor you know (and the only person you want to see) on the way to the hospital

EXCERPT:

“Is there anyone else you want me to call for you?”

Embarrassed, you shake your head no. Sliced open on the street and the only person in the world you have to call is the guy you’re having casual sex with.

➽──────────────❥

the interview (fluff/angst) *COMING SOON* - in which Spencer and Morgan interview you about an unsub and jealousy rears its ugly head

EXCERPT:

The interviews Spencer and Derek were conducting were supposed to be routine.

The unsub in their current case had a unique signature - leaving floral arrangements in the mouths of his victims, stems placed delicately down their throats. Luckily the killer used some rare flowers in his displays, allowing Garcia to narrow down his potential stockists to a handful of florists within the geographical profile. Unfortunately, the unsub was smart enough to avoid tracking through the use of cash. So, with limited other leads that left the team with nothing to do but present the profile and pictures of the arrangements to the florists on Garcia’s list and hope it shook something loose.

Routine ‘anything here look or sound familiar?’ interviews. That’s all Reid and Morgan had been sent to do. But there was nothing routine about running into the person you were casually sleeping with in front of Derek Morgan.

➽──────────────❥

More to come :)

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

spencer reid masterlist

CASUAL SEX!SPENCER: ongoing interconnected standalones (contains smut, soft dom!Spencer, fools in love, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, sweet florist!reader)

the agreement (smut/fluff) - in which you only see Spencer when there is something he needs to forget

EXCERPT:

You know it’s been a particularly bad case when Spencer Reid comes knocking on your front door. 

When he needs to forget. That is your agreement. 

Spencer allows you a split second to register that it is him you have opened the door to, and then he is surging forward, grabbing your face with both hands. The kiss is needy and harsh. He kisses you like he wants to devour you. This is how you know you are in for a good night. Hot, heavy and rough, just how you like him.

➽──────────────❥

the hospital (hurt/comfort) *COMING SOON* - in which you call the only doctor you know (and the only person you want to see) on the way to the hospital

EXCERPT:

“Is there anyone else you want me to call for you?”

Embarrassed, you shake your head no. Sliced open on the street and the only person in the world you have to call is the guy you’re having casual sex with.

➽──────────────❥

the interview (fluff/angst) *COMING SOON* - in which Spencer and Morgan interview you about an unsub and jealousy rears its ugly head

EXCERPT:

The interviews Spencer and Derek were conducting were supposed to be routine.

The unsub in their current case had a unique signature - leaving floral arrangements in the mouths of his victims, stems placed delicately down their throats. Luckily the killer used some rare flowers in his displays, allowing Garcia to narrow down his potential stockists to a handful of florists within the geographical profile. Unfortunately, the unsub was smart enough to avoid tracking through the use of cash. So, with limited other leads that left the team with nothing to do but present the profile and pictures of the arrangements to the florists on Garcia’s list and hope it shook something loose.

Routine ‘anything here look or sound familiar?’ interviews. That’s all Reid and Morgan had been sent to do. But there was nothing routine about running into the person you were casually sleeping with in front of Derek Morgan.

➽──────────────❥

More to come :)

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

the agreement - s.r.

tags: fuck buddy!/friends with benefits!spencer reid, soft dom!spencer

content warning: smut 18+, idiots who are actually in love but can't admit it to themselves or each other

You know it’s been a particularly bad case when Spencer Reid comes knocking on your front door. 

When he needs to forget. That is your agreement. 

Spencer allows you a split second to register that it is him you have opened the door to, and then he is surging forward, grabbing your face with both hands. The kiss is needy and harsh. He kisses you like he wants to devour you. This is how you know you are in for a good night. Hot, heavy and rough, just how you like him. 

You realise Spencer has been walking you backwards into your apartment when he kicks the door shut with his foot, his lips never leaving yours. He continues guiding you backwards until your back hits the wall. 

You gasp as his face drops to your neck, finding the spot you like best straight away. Repeat visits allowed Spencer to learn you inside and out. The members of the BAU were in no danger of running out of horrible things that required forgetting. Granted, he was as quick a study at pleasing you as he was at everything else.

Spencer’s hand moved up and under your top, thumbing your nipple the way he knew would draw sweet sounds out of your mouth. You whimpered, and there was no thought in his head but good girl. Satisfied, he returned to your lips and pressed close, allowing you to feel the hardness you had created.

You part your legs, trying to get his hardness as close to your core as you can, already needing some kind of relief from the need pooling in your belly, but he pulls back and puts a degree of space between you for the first time that night. 

It’s late and you’re in your pyjamas. You should be asleep already - you have work the next morning. But even though Spencer rarely calls or texts ahead you had a feeling you would be seeing him tonight. So you stayed awake and put on one of your cuter pairs of pjs. Though you don’t know why you bothered when Spencer barely looks at them and pulls the top up over your head within two minutes of walking in the door. 

He turns you so your front is against the wall and pulls down your shorts to leave you bare and waiting for him. Spencer doesn’t need to check to see if you’re wet but does it anyway just for the satisfaction of licking you off his fingers. 

You hear his belt buckle clink and within a moment he’s pushing inside of you in a fluid motion. 

Your gasp nearly pushes Spencer over the edge. He stills inside of you and gently bites down on your shoulder to keep control of himself. It has you pushing back into him, needing more. 

Spencer drops his hand down to your front. 

Less than fifty percent of women are able to reach orgasm from penetrative intercourse alone, you hear Spencer’s voice in your mind from one of your first trysts. 

He finds your clit immediately, finally thrusting upwards as he does. You cry out his name and you realise absently it is the first time either one of you has spoken. His groan into your ear has you like putty underneath him. One more groan like that, you think, and I will tip over the edge already. 

Spencer sets a relentless pace. It is quick and sloppy and needy and the heat grows within you faster than ever. You make no effort to suppress your moans and whines as he hits that most sensitive spot inside you over and over. Spencer loves to hear how much he pleases you, he made that very clear. It is one of the many ways you fill the well of confidence he draws upon to be so forward with you in the bedroom. 

Spencer had never been bossy in the bedroom before you. With you he never had to second guess himself. You made your needs plain to him before you ever even slept together.

I need someone who doesn’t give me time to second guess, you had told him, I want them to take control of the situation, make sure I’m taken care of. Does that make sense? 

It had to Spencer. 

He had never considered showing dominance over a sexual partner in that way until that first conversation. It had never appealed to him until then either. The dynamic you were seeking required a great deal of trust in your partner. To understand you well enough to take the lead and still satisfy you, not just themselves. The thought of him being that person you put your trust into, it awoke something in him he didn’t know had been there.

Spencer decided then and there that he would become the person you described that night. Luckily his expertise in behaviour and his particular interest in you made him a fast learner.

Spencer’s soft pants turn you to liquid. You reach around behind you to pull him closer, deeper. His pace slows, his thrusts deepen and you know he is nearly there. 

You say his name one more time and that is all the warning he gets before you are tensing around him, pulling you both over the edge. Spencer spills inside of you as you come in waves. You freeze there, unmoving as Spencer waits for the last aftershocks of your orgasm to pass.

Once you relax underneath him, Spencer whispers your name, so softly, in such contrast from the way he took you five steps from your front door. He nibbles your ear before placing gentle kisses along your throat. Warmth seeps out from your chest until you feel it all the way down to your toes, almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. Almost.

Spencer places one last firm kiss to your shoulder before he is pulling back and slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss.

“I know baby,” he murmurs.

He turns you back around to face him. You place your back against the wall. Spencer brushes the hair out of your eyes to gain a better visual of your face. His blue eyes search yours, as they always do after an encounter, for any cause for concern. You take the opportunity, as you always do, to admire his sweet face. Still a slight furrow between his brow, you note. You’ll spend the rest of the night trying to remove it.

“Wash the day off?” You ask him.

He gives you a small smile with his nod of assent. It has become part of your little ritual. Sex. Shower. More sex. A normal fuck buddy would go home after (you hated this term, and would never use it in front of him, but the reality was you could not call your situation friends with benefits when there was no friendship of which to speak when you only saw each other for sex). 

There is nothing sexual, however, about the shower you share. You take your time washing his hair, massaging his scalp deeply in an attempt to get him to relax. 

“You spoil me,” Spencer tells you as you get the shampoo ready.

“You deserve spoiling,” you punctuate your point with a kiss to the tip of his nose. You’ll spend the rest of the week thinking about how he looked, wet hair, naked in your shower with that pleased little smile on his face. 

You make him eat a bowl of cereal in your bed, always concerned he isn’t eating enough. He obliges to make you happy but makes you promise that the next meal he will get to eat is you. You are glad to make that deal. 

Once he’s had his fill between your thighs you pull him onto you, wanting to feel the weight of him against you. Your hand finds his scalp once again and his body softens into you.

“Tell me about what you’re reading at the moment,” you instruct him, wanting to keep him in the light with you, away from the monsters in the dark he is paid to catch. 

You’ve come to know each other well through the months of these encounters. You may not know what it is that sends him to your door seeking escape, but you know he is the most voracious reader you will ever meet. The most voracious learner, in fact, always teaching you something new every time you lay in each other’s arms and wait for sleep to come.

Spencer traces patterns on your collarbone as he explains the plot of some of the dense literature you will never read yourself. You’re still warm from the pleasure he has just brought you, and yet his featherlight touch makes you shiver.

His explanation comes to an abrupt end, but the patterns on your skin continue so you know he’s awake.

“You okay?” You ask carefully, wondering if this is the moment he finally talks to you about what he comes to forget.

Spencer readjusts so his head is on the pillow beside yours, facing you as he speaks. “I don’t want to hear my own voice, I want to hear yours. Tell me about what you’re reading.”

“But I’m reading Pride and Prejudice, baby, you’ve read it.”

“Tell me anyway? I like the way you explain things.”

You do as he asks, (as if you have any power to resist obliging him), he interjects every so often with interesting facts about Jane Austen’s own life and influences, information you find all the more fascinating when he tells it.

Spencer drifts off an hour later, midway through his own speech about Austen’s education. His last conscious act is pulling you closer to him before he surrenders to sleep entirely. 

In the morning you’ll make him a real breakfast. You’ll chat and laugh over toast and bacon as if the thing between you is friendly. Then he’ll walk to the metro and go back to catching monsters who lurk in the dark. 

Spencer won’t come knocking on your door again until he needs a little slice of light.

➽──────────────❥

author's note: I have more ideas for these sweet babies but I would love to hear your ideas as well! Let's chat xx

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Mathew, if you’re reading this — sit on my lap, we need to talk.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

the agreement - s.r.

tags: fuck buddy!/friends with benefits!spencer reid, soft dom!spencer

content warning: smut 18+, idiots who are actually in love but can't admit it to themselves or each other

You know it’s been a particularly bad case when Spencer Reid comes knocking on your front door. 

When he needs to forget. That is your agreement. 

Spencer allows you a split second to register that it is him you have opened the door to, and then he is surging forward, grabbing your face with both hands. The kiss is needy and harsh. He kisses you like he wants to devour you. This is how you know you are in for a good night. Hot, heavy and rough, just how you like him. 

You realise Spencer has been walking you backwards into your apartment when he kicks the door shut with his foot, his lips never leaving yours. He continues guiding you backwards until your back hits the wall. 

You gasp as his face drops to your neck, finding the spot you like best straight away. Repeat visits allowed Spencer to learn you inside and out. The members of the BAU were in no danger of running out of horrible things that required forgetting. Granted, he was as quick a study at pleasing you as he was at everything else.

Spencer’s hand moved up and under your top, thumbing your nipple the way he knew would draw sweet sounds out of your mouth. You whimpered, and there was no thought in his head but good girl. Satisfied, he returned to your lips and pressed close, allowing you to feel the hardness you had created.

You part your legs, trying to get his hardness as close to your core as you can, already needing some kind of relief from the need pooling in your belly, but he pulls back and puts a degree of space between you for the first time that night. 

It’s late and you’re in your pyjamas. You should be asleep already - you have work the next morning. But even though Spencer rarely calls or texts ahead you had a feeling you would be seeing him tonight. So you stayed awake and put on one of your cuter pairs of pjs. Though you don’t know why you bothered when Spencer barely looks at them and pulls the top up over your head within two minutes of walking in the door. 

He turns you so your front is against the wall and pulls down your shorts to leave you bare and waiting for him. Spencer doesn’t need to check to see if you’re wet but does it anyway just for the satisfaction of licking you off his fingers. 

You hear his belt buckle clink and within a moment he’s pushing inside of you in a fluid motion. 

Your gasp nearly pushes Spencer over the edge. He stills inside of you and gently bites down on your shoulder to keep control of himself. It has you pushing back into him, needing more. 

Spencer drops his hand down to your front. 

Less than fifty percent of women are able to reach orgasm from penetrative intercourse alone, you hear Spencer’s voice in your mind from one of your first trysts. 

He finds your clit immediately, finally thrusting upwards as he does. You cry out his name and you realise absently it is the first time either one of you has spoken. His groan into your ear has you like putty underneath him. One more groan like that, you think, and I will tip over the edge already. 

Spencer sets a relentless pace. It is quick and sloppy and needy and the heat grows within you faster than ever. You make no effort to suppress your moans and whines as he hits that most sensitive spot inside you over and over. Spencer loves to hear how much he pleases you, he made that very clear. It is one of the many ways you fill the well of confidence he draws upon to be so forward with you in the bedroom. 

Spencer had never been bossy in the bedroom before you. With you he never had to second guess himself. You made your needs plain to him before you ever even slept together.

I need someone who doesn’t give me time to second guess, you had told him, I want them to take control of the situation, make sure I’m taken care of. Does that make sense? 

It had to Spencer. 

He had never considered showing dominance over a sexual partner in that way until that first conversation. It had never appealed to him until then either. The dynamic you were seeking required a great deal of trust in your partner. To understand you well enough to take the lead and still satisfy you, not just themselves. The thought of him being that person you put your trust into, it awoke something in him he didn’t know had been there.

Spencer decided then and there that he would become the person you described that night. Luckily his expertise in behaviour and his particular interest in you made him a fast learner.

Spencer’s soft pants turn you to liquid. You reach around behind you to pull him closer, deeper. His pace slows, his thrusts deepen and you know he is nearly there. 

You say his name one more time and that is all the warning he gets before you are tensing around him, pulling you both over the edge. Spencer spills inside of you as you come in waves. You freeze there, unmoving as Spencer waits for the last aftershocks of your orgasm to pass.

Once you relax underneath him, Spencer whispers your name, so softly, in such contrast from the way he took you five steps from your front door. He nibbles your ear before placing gentle kisses along your throat. Warmth seeps out from your chest until you feel it all the way down to your toes, almost as pleasurable as the sex itself. Almost.

Spencer places one last firm kiss to your shoulder before he is pulling back and slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss.

“I know baby,” he murmurs.

He turns you back around to face him. You place your back against the wall. Spencer brushes the hair out of your eyes to gain a better visual of your face. His blue eyes search yours, as they always do after an encounter, for any cause for concern. You take the opportunity, as you always do, to admire his sweet face. Still a slight furrow between his brow, you note. You’ll spend the rest of the night trying to remove it.

“Wash the day off?” You ask him.

He gives you a small smile with his nod of assent. It has become part of your little ritual. Sex. Shower. More sex. A normal fuck buddy would go home after (you hated this term, and would never use it in front of him, but the reality was you could not call your situation friends with benefits when there was no friendship of which to speak when you only saw each other for sex). 

There is nothing sexual, however, about the shower you share. You take your time washing his hair, massaging his scalp deeply in an attempt to get him to relax. 

“You spoil me,” Spencer tells you as you get the shampoo ready.

“You deserve spoiling,” you punctuate your point with a kiss to the tip of his nose. You’ll spend the rest of the week thinking about how he looked, wet hair, naked in your shower with that pleased little smile on his face. 

You make him eat a bowl of cereal in your bed, always concerned he isn’t eating enough. He obliges to make you happy but makes you promise that the next meal he will get to eat is you. You are glad to make that deal. 

Once he’s had his fill between your thighs you pull him onto you, wanting to feel the weight of him against you. Your hand finds his scalp once again and his body softens into you.

“Tell me about what you’re reading at the moment,” you instruct him, wanting to keep him in the light with you, away from the monsters in the dark he is paid to catch. 

You’ve come to know each other well through the months of these encounters. You may not know what it is that sends him to your door seeking escape, but you know he is the most voracious reader you will ever meet. The most voracious learner, in fact, always teaching you something new every time you lay in each other’s arms and wait for sleep to come.

Spencer traces patterns on your collarbone as he explains the plot of some of the dense literature you will never read yourself. You’re still warm from the pleasure he has just brought you, and yet his featherlight touch makes you shiver.

His explanation comes to an abrupt end, but the patterns on your skin continue so you know he’s awake.

“You okay?” You ask carefully, wondering if this is the moment he finally talks to you about what he comes to forget.

Spencer readjusts so his head is on the pillow beside yours, facing you as he speaks. “I don’t want to hear my own voice, I want to hear yours. Tell me about what you’re reading.”

“But I’m reading Pride and Prejudice, baby, you’ve read it.”

“Tell me anyway? I like the way you explain things.”

You do as he asks, (as if you have any power to resist obliging him), he interjects every so often with interesting facts about Jane Austen’s own life and influences, information you find all the more fascinating when he tells it.

Spencer drifts off an hour later, midway through his own speech about Austen’s education. His last conscious act is pulling you closer to him before he surrenders to sleep entirely. 

In the morning you’ll make him a real breakfast. You’ll chat and laugh over toast and bacon as if the thing between you is friendly. Then he’ll walk to the metro and go back to catching monsters who lurk in the dark. 

Spencer won’t come knocking on your door again until he needs a little slice of light.

➽──────────────❥

author's note: I have more ideas for these sweet babies but I would love to hear your ideas as well! Let's chat xx

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Masterlist

Keep reading

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

sometimes I randomly think about the time a girl posted in this girls only Facebook group I’m in telling everyone how she broke up with her boyfriend and he lied saying that he lost the spare key she gave him, only to then break into her apartment when she wasn’t home and steal the cat they’d adopted while they were together, but then he denied having done this and she didn’t really have proof that he took the cat since he wouldn’t let her come into his place and look for it. And then another girl saw this post and knew her ex-boyfriend, and she was like “girl. I used to hook up with your mans back in xxxx and I still have his number. If you want, I’ll hit him up and get him to invite me back to his place and see if your cat’s there.” And the OP was like “bet.”

So this woman hit up homie dog, asked him out for drinks, went home with him, slept with him, and then woke up in the middle of the night and TOOK THE CAT. Like she had only said that she would confirm if the cat was there but then she took it upon herself to steal this woman’s cat back. Like she full on Trojan horsed this man and then hit up homegirl like “I got the goods. Where you wanna meet.” And then the two of them posted a photo of them together with the cat to the group.

And I just think women supporting women is so beautiful.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

sometimes I randomly think about the time a girl posted in this girls only Facebook group I’m in telling everyone how she broke up with her boyfriend and he lied saying that he lost the spare key she gave him, only to then break into her apartment when she wasn’t home and steal the cat they’d adopted while they were together, but then he denied having done this and she didn’t really have proof that he took the cat since he wouldn’t let her come into his place and look for it. And then another girl saw this post and knew her ex-boyfriend, and she was like “girl. I used to hook up with your mans back in xxxx and I still have his number. If you want, I’ll hit him up and get him to invite me back to his place and see if your cat’s there.” And the OP was like “bet.”

So this woman hit up homie dog, asked him out for drinks, went home with him, slept with him, and then woke up in the middle of the night and TOOK THE CAT. Like she had only said that she would confirm if the cat was there but then she took it upon herself to steal this woman’s cat back. Like she full on Trojan horsed this man and then hit up homegirl like “I got the goods. Where you wanna meet.” And then the two of them posted a photo of them together with the cat to the group.

And I just think women supporting women is so beautiful.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

very curious seeing writing i did on here (when i was a teenager) having such a resurgence ten years later. makes me wonder how i will feel about my writing from now, when i am 10 years older. do you ever read something you wrote when you were younger and feel like it belongs to a stranger? i could shudder and shrink when i read it, and judge the work of a different version of me based on the standards to which i hold THIS version of me. but i think i will choose not to, and instead choose to commend my younger self for being brave enough to try. ultimately that journey is what got me here, no?

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

mini comics from the steddie dads au!

i’m having too much fun with this

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

We Got A Lovin' Thing - s.h. | e.m.

Summary: Eddie, as it turns out, is the only one with a brain cell among the three of you. (Or: the time you didn't know you were all dating).

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: fluff, idiocy, jealousy, misunderstandings, me attempting to write the "didn't know they were dating" trope.

dividers by s-tarksintern

"You don't have to."

The tickets had barely entered your hand before Eddie was making excuses. He shoved a handful of curls behind his ear. You tutted, swatting his hand because that was exactly what made them frizz. He hesitantly released the curls, twisting his rings around his fingers instead. 

"Of course we'll go," Steve said. "We wanna support you. Right, Y/N?" 

You nodded eagerly. "That's right. Dustin's told us all about your sick guitar riffs. Obviously, I need to hear them for myself."

"I mean, you know if Dustin's hyped, it's gonna be bitchin'."

You grinned at Steve. He mirrored you. All of the tension slipped out of Eddie. He lost an inch in height from posturing for rejection. Which didn't make sense. Steve would certainly never reject Eddie like that. Maybe Eddie just really wanted you to go. 

"I know it's not really your guys' thing," Eddie said. "Which is why I didn't wanna pressure you. And I know we're taking it slow, so…"

"I don't think you need to take introducing us to your metalheads that slow, Munson," Steve snorted. "We can handle it."

"Steve should wear your vest," you suggested, wiggling your brows. 

"Me? No, no, you'd wear it way better than me," insisted Steve. 

"How 'bout," Eddie said, shrugging off said vest. "The prince takes the vest and the fair maiden gets my bandana. As a token of gratitude."

Your heart fluttered as Eddie gently wrapped the fabric around your forehead. You helped him tie it in the back, his fingers brushing yours. The bandana was soft and smelled like his cologne, patterned with multicolored skulls. 

"Sure we're metal enough for you and your crew?" you asked, trying to push down the butterflies in your belly. 

Eddie grinned. "Without a doubt. Better than Ozzy."

"I think Steve should throw it back to eighty-six and show off the sternum bush," you said, playfully poking his chest. "That bare chest was the highlight of my year, Harrington."

"Yeah, yeah," Steve snarked. "Take a picture."

"Oh no, I wouldn't wanna make anybody jealous," you laughed. 

"Jealous? Never!" Steve cast dramatically. "Eddie knows my adoring fans mean nothing to me!" 

"Imagine my relief," Eddie said, draping an arm over you, then Steve. "Can't have anybody looking at my guy. Or my girl."

You squirmed under his arm, sliding out of his grip as smoothly as possible. 

"Um, yeah. Well, I don't think you'll have to worry. You steal the show every time, Eds."

"Sweetheart, you've gotta wait till I actually start playing before you gas me up," Eddie grinned. 

You shoved his arm, attempting vainly to mask your nerves. 

"No gas! It’ll be great."

You left Eddie’s room, heading out the front door. Steve followed you down the steps.

“Show starts at eight!” Eddie called after you. 

“We’ll be there, superstar,” you said, giving a thumbs up. “Dress pretty—Steve’s not easily impressed.”

“Hilarious,” Steve snarked. “Maybe you can follow his act with some of those jokes.”

You stuck out your tongue and got into the passenger side of his 733i. 

“Isn’t Eddie giving you a ride?” he asked, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Why would Eddie give me a ride? Doesn’t he have a rehearsal?”

Steve shrugged. “How would I know? He’d tell you before me.”

“What? No way. You’d be the first to know. You’re the one who brought up Corroded Coffin.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve never been to a show,” Steve said, pulling out of the trailer park.

“You haven’t?”

“No. When would I have gone?”

“I mean… anytime, really,” you frowned. “I thought Eddie would’ve invited you by now.”

Steve gave you an incredulous look. “Me?”

“Yes?” you scoffed. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“Why are you?” Steve shot back. 

“I’m not…” you trailed off. 

He remained quiet, so you dropped the subject. You rested your head against the seat and watched Steve from the corner of your eye. Eddie was lucky. Nancy had been too. You’d always thought so.

The metal infinity ring was on Steve’s right middle finger. You were there when Eddie gave it to him. Eddie had given you a ring too, days before that. For a moment, you’d hoped and wondered. Wondered if maybe Eddie felt the same as you did. 

You wore yours on a thin chain around your neck. That was how pathetic you were—if it was a ring from Eddie Munson, you’d wear it close to your heart, even when it was painfully obvious yours meant something different from Steve’s. 

“Wanna stop by BK before I drop you?” Steve asked.

“Sure,” you smiled softly. “Thanks, Steve.”

He nodded, mirroring your smile. His veins were stark lines against his skin. You stared unabashedly at how his hands curled around the steering wheel. How could anybody blame Eddie? You’d give Steve pretty rings too. 

Steve ordered your regular at the Burger King drive-though. You reclined in the seat.

“Should’ve brought Eddie something,” you said, eyes closed.

“He likes BK?”

“His stomach is a bottomless pit. He’ll literally eat anything.”

“Anything, huh?”

“Gross, Steve!” you scoffed, thwacking his arm. “Don’t be a perv.”

He cackled as he pulled up to the next drive-through window. The girl at the window took the money, then leaned in while waiting for the food. 

“Hi,” she said, fluttering her lashes.

“Hey,” Steve nodded. “How are you?”

“Good. Want extra sauce?”

“I do!” you interrupted, sticking your head next to Steve’s.

She shot you a dirty look. You wiggled your fingers in a wave.

“Can I get extra sauce? Or does he only get extra sauce?”

Her face twisted into a mix of jealousy and disgust. She shoved the bag through the window, then slammed the screen closed. You burst into giggles as Steve drove off.

“Was that really necessary?” he sighed, passing you the food.

“What? Not like you’re interested. She’s not your type.”

“I—my type?”

“Yeah?” 

You shoveled a few fries in your mouth. 

“And what exactly is my type, Y/N?”

“Not her,” you sniffed. Not me, either.

“That’s specific.”

“I know. My mysterious feminine wiles are irresistible.”

“Ah, yes. What drew Eddie to you in the first place,” Steve agreed.

He didn’t mean anything by it. That didn’t stop the ache. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shoving more fries into your mouth. “Right.”

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, slowing down in front of your house.

"See you then," you confirmed, closing the door.

"Wear somethin' nice for Eddie," Steve teased.

"You first!"

You watched him drive off, dejectedly chomping down on a chicken strip. Oh God. What were you doing?

The club was loud. You’d tried to dress a little closer to the demographic but you weren’t sure you’d accomplished such a thing. Still, it was better than Steve, who looked like he’d just gotten a callback for Grease.

“Dude, what the hell are you wearing?”

“This is cool!” he insisted. 

“Tell me about it, stud.”

“You wore overalls to a metal concert and you wanna make fun of me?” 

“I look cute,” you announced. “And there’s no denying you do too, Steve, but jeez. What happened to wearing Eddie’s vest?”

“It’s under the jacket,” he said, unzipping the black leather jacket. “Did you just call me cute?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, T-Bird.”

“How many Grease references are you gonna make?” he huffed.

“How long is the performance?”

“I’m telling Eddie on you,” Steve warned as you found your seats.

“Ooh, I’m really sca—”

A pair of hardcore fans knocked into you. You stumbled, nearly falling over a chair. But Steve was quick to catch you by your arm.

“Whoa, you okay? Assholes!” he fumed, holding your waist.

“It’s fine,” you sighed, hyper aware of Steve’s hands on you. “People are just excited. C’mon, let’s get close to the stage.”

The warmth from Steve’s hands slipped away. You felt dirty for missing it. 

The emcee made a brief introduction and got a few claps. You and Steve both cheered when he announced Corroded Coffin. 

“Go, Eds!” you whooped, clapping obnoxiously. “C’mon, Steve, show a little enthusiasm. That’s your guy up there.”

Steve sighed, rolling his eyes. Then he stuck his pinkies into his mouth, whistling loudly. You squealed in laughter, nudging his side. Steve grinned back, accepting your head on his shoulder.

“Whoa! Hidden talent, Harrington! That from your jock days?”

“Yes, actually. The pool gets loud and I had to get my team’s attention somehow.”

“Coach Steve, huh? No wonder you’re so bossy with the kids.”

“I’m bossy so none of those jerkwads get eaten by faceless monsters. There’s a difference.”

“Yes, dear,” you said seriously, patting his hand. “And you parent them so well.”

“You know what—”

“Shh!” you hushed. “Show’s starting!”

The lights dimmed. Eddie came out first, then the rest of the band. He stepped up to the mic.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?”

“Wooo!” you cheered in reply.

“Let’s go, Eddie!” added Steve.

Eddie found you immediately, grinning widely. 

“Glad you guys are excited,” he continued, eyes never leaving you and Steve. “I see some pretty faces in the crowd. Hope you enjoy.”

The set was energetic, bass vibrating through your body. You and Steve took your cues from the sparse audience, headbanging and air-guitaring through the whole show. He took off the jacket after the first song, leaving him in Eddie’s vest and a white tank. You tried not to stare.

The most important thing was that Eddie had fun. Regardless of your feelings, you and Steve were there to be supportive. Steve and Eddie had never changed how they treated you. There was no reason you couldn’t act the same.

Your chain jumped when you did, jangling against your chest. When you strayed too far from your seat towards the end of the set, Steve took your hand, steering you back so you wouldn’t get lost among the drunks. He didn’t let go until the music finished.

“Thank you! We are Corroded Coffin, good night!”

The band disappeared backstage. You and Steve were the first ones to the stage entrance, which was really just a ragged, faux velvet curtain. Gareth and Jeff chatted among themselves. A few girls had also come in—mostly to fawn over Eddie. 

“Hiiii, Eddie!” giggled one, a little tipsy. “You played a great show!”

“Thanks, ladies,” Eddie replied politely, easily slipping through the gaggle of girls. 

He made a beeline for you and Steve, guitar still strapped across his back. He pulled you both into a sweaty hug, still on a performance high. Eddie’s freshly shaven cheek slid against yours. Your heart did a swan dive to your shoes.

“You guys made it!” 

“Of course we did,” you said. “We wouldn’t miss your show for anything. Steve’s dedicated.”

“So I see,” Eddie grinned, giving Steve a onceover. “Looking good, Greased Lightning.”

“That’s it. I’m never wearing leather again,” Steve huffed, tucking his jacket under his arm.

“No no, it’s hot! Swear it. Tell ‘im, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes. “His head’s already big enough, Eds.”

“See how mean she is to me?” Steve whined. 

“Poor baby,” Eddie cooed, patting Steve’s neck. “What were we thinking, pledging our love to her?”

You turned your head, throat tightening. Neither one seemed to notice.

“You should make it up to me,” decided Steve. “I accept pizza.”

“Pizza it is,” Eddie said, taking off his guitar. “Lemme just pack up my stuff and we’ll head back to the shire. Just us, promise. Sound good?”

Eddie goaded Steve ahead, arm around his back. You hung behind them, that pang in your chest returning. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, turning. “Where’d you go? C’mere.”

“Huh?” 

“You’re all the way back there,” he laughed. “Here.”

They slowed for a beat so you caught up. Then Eddie tugged you to his other side, arm hanging over your shoulders. You couldn’t even fight him. Eddie was always tactile and once you became friends, all sense of personal space was thrown out the window. It felt good, even if it was temporary. 

You rode back in the van. It was rowdy but Eddie thankfully dropped off the rest of his band early in the drive. 

“So which pizzeria? Fredo’s or Mikey’s?”

“Fredo’s!” you said.

“Mikey’s!” Steve voted.

You gasped in horror. “Mikey’s? They give you approximately three drops of sauce. It’s like eating cardboard with cheese.”

“Mikey’s way better than Fredo’s. Mikey’s doesn’t have sixteen health violations, for one.”

“Everyone knows that was a story the paper cooked up because Fredo wouldn’t sell to Kline,” you scoffed. “Open your eyes, Steven.”

“Fine, we’ll have Eddie decide.”

You both turned expectantly to Eddie, who glanced at you in the rearview mirror. 

“Oh. Uh, well, I really don’t have a preference…”

“No, no. You’ve gotta choose, Eds,” you said. “Steve has apparently decided to go insane.”

“Me? You’re eating rat droppings, Y/N.”

“You are such a freakazoid, Steve, what the hell—”

“Guys! Okay, okay, how ‘bout this: Y/N chooses the pizza and Steve, you can choose what movie we watch. Deal?” 

You tilted your head at Steve. He crossed his arms.

“Fine. But I know you’re biased, Munson.”

“Am not! I’m totally impartial.”

“If he was biased, he’d side with you,” you said.

“Uh, no, he’d totally side with you,” Steve scoffed. “But, y’know, I guess if I were in his shoes I’d side with you too.”

Before you could ask what that meant, Steve was sliding open the door to the van and climbing out. After a minute, you did the same, taking Eddie’s proffered hand. 

“Hey. You know he’s not really mad, right?” he murmured, squeezing your hand.

“I know,” you smiled. “I wasn’t worried. Were you?”

“No, no. Just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

You smiled confusedly. “Um, okay. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t, like, get in between you two or anything.” 

Eddie looked appalled by that. “I know you wouldn’t, baby. I love you both, you know that.”

“I—” You swallowed, overwhelmed. “Oh. I l-love you too, Eds.”

Eddie beamed and kissed your knuckles. You felt your face grow hot. 

“I’m going inside,” you rushed out, scurrying up the steps. 

You slammed the door shut behind you, letting out a slow breath. What was that?! Were you tripping or had Eddie been flirting with you?

“Hey—”

“Ahh!”

You jumped, startled. Steve froze, brows to his hairline. 

“Uh,” he began. “You good?”

“Yeah, s-sorry. I’m fine. What’s up?”

“I was gonna order the pizza, what toppings did you—”

“I’ll do it!” you said, snatching the phone and shooing him out of the kitchen. “Go pick a movie. I’ll order.”

“No mushrooms,” Steve reminded as you herded him out. “And Eddie is allergic to—”

“Olives, yeah, I know, Steve. This isn’t the first time we’ve had pizza together.”

“Dunno why you’re so snappy when we have to eat sewer pizza,” he mumbled. 

You ignored him, returning to the phone. Wayne had most of the takeout numbers posted near the phone, so it was easy to dial. 

“Hello, pickup or delivery?”

“Hi, delivery. Can I get two large pies. One with pepperoni and…”

“Get some mozzarella sticks too,” Eddie said, walking into the kitchen. “My treat.”

“It’s actually my treat,” came Steve’s voice from the living room.

You rolled your eyes. “And one order of mozzarella sticks. On the other pie can we get peppers and white sauce?” You gave the address. 

“Twenty minutes,” said the delivery person.

“Okay, thanks,” you replied. “Twenty minutes, guys!”

“‘Kay, I’m gonna shower, baby. Don’t let Steve put on a crappy movie.”

Then, gentle as he could be, Eddie lightly took your chin in hand and kissed the corner of your mouth. 

You freaked. 

“Hey!” you shouted, slamming the phone back on the receiver. “Hey, what the fuck was that?!”

Eddie’s eyes were wide. “What was what?”

“You kissed me! What the hell, Eddie? Steve is ten feet away from us!”

“I know…” he started weakly. “What does that have to do—”

“You know?” you screeched. “You know? What the fuck does that mean? Oh, fuck this. Steve, come ‘ere!”

“Jesus, what’s with all the yelling, Y/N? Did you get into Eddie’s stash?” Steve groaned, rising from the VCR. 

You pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie. 

“He kissed me.”

“Okay,” Steve said slowly. “Was it a bad kiss or something?”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary to ask,” Eddie huffed.

“Steve!” you frowned, waving your hands. “Why are you not upset about this?”

“Well, because I figured you guys would’ve kissed a lot by now? You’re together after all.”

“What? Eddie and I aren’t together! That doesn’t even make sense. You’re his boyfriend.”

“Me?” Steve balked. “I—what?”

“Yeah-huh, you guys have been dating since Eddie gave you that ring.”

Steve’s mouth fell open. “We have not.”

“Have too!”

“You guys have been dating since Eddie came back from the Upside Down,” Steve said. “Remember, you had that heartfelt reunion, you cried in his arms, et cetera.”

“You two are so in love with each other it’s not funny,” you argued, stomping your foot. “You’re always flirting and cracking jokes and talking about how handsome you are.”

“Well, yeah, but I flirt with you too!” Steve cried. 

That stopped you in your tracks. 

“You… what?”

“Wow, okay,” Eddie interrupted, rubbing his face. “Okay, alright. Wow. Uh, so here’s the thing. I actually thought we’ve all been dating for about a month now, but, turns out I’m an even bigger dumbass than I thought.”

Steve looked like you’d just asked him to do calculus. You weren’t faring much better.

“Now, that can’t be right,” said Steve.

Eddie’s hands fluttered. “I gave you guys rings! And I said how I, y’know, really cared about you both.”

“Right, you said you cared about Y/N as more than a friend and that if I was okay with it, you wanted us to spend more time together and get to know each other… oh.”

Steve glanced at you, grimacing.

“Whoops,” you said. 

“Big whoops,” he agreed.

Eddie sighed, twisting his rings round and round. “It’s cool. I guess I should’ve said something earlier, made it clear. I understand if you two don’t wanna do that. It was… hasty to assume that from you, especially both—”

“Eds, Eddie,” you cut him off. “Honey, I’m like, really in love with both of you. I was losing my mind with jealousy every time we hung out.”

He brightened. “Really?”

“Okay, you don’t have to sound so excited,” you giggled.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, having the decency to look chastened. “Sorry, sweetheart, I’m just—God, you don’t know how happy that makes me. That is—I mean, Steve?”

“I—” Steve looked shellshocked. “You like me? Both of you?”

“A little more like love, actually,” Eddie grinned. 

“Yes, Steve, it would seem that in spite of you dressing like one of The Outsiders, we are both head over heels for you.” 

“Well, I’m in love with you too, Y/N. Even after you’ve helped Pa bring in the harvest.”

“Oh, now you’re gonna get it, Harrington. Confessing your love won’t stop me and my overalls from waging war!”

You sprung forward, fully intending to tackle Steve. However, you sorely underestimated his jock phase and ended up landing on the ground instead, Steve hovering over you.

“Get her!” he ordered and then there were two pairs of hands tickling you.

“That’s not f-fair, it’s two against o-one!” you squealed between peals of laughter. “You were supposed to be my a-ally, Eds!”

Eddie relented after a moment, collapsing on the floor and pulling you to the side. He locked you in a deep kiss: a proper one. You slung an arm around his neck, playing with some of his curls. Kissing him was better than you could’ve imagined. Eddie surrounded you, holding your face.

Steve had taken mercy as well, fitted into your other side. And as soon as Eddie let go of you, he swooped in. Steve kissed differently from Eddie, preferring to hold onto your hip instead, thumb drawing circles. He gasped into your mouth, teeth just barely catching your lip. You made a soft noise as he pulled away, drunk on both of them.

Finally, Eddie surged up to meet Steve in a kiss. They were a little rougher with each other, wrestling around as they hummed into each other. But eventually, they settled with Eddie on his back next to you. You watched happily, curling up next to him. Steve let go after a couple seconds, rolling onto Eddie’s other side. 

“You know, you wanna talk about healthcode violations, this carpet would not pass any sort of inspection if its life depended on it.”

You cackled as Steve whined, scrambling onto the couch.

“Oh, come on!” he huffed. “That’s disgusting, man.”

“Kidding!” Eddie laughed. “I’m kidding, promise. C’mon, come down. You still have to choose a movie.”

“Yeah, and it has to be a good one ‘cause this is our first movie as a throuple,” you added.

“Great, thanks. No pressure.”

“No, full pressure,” Eddie corrected. “But don’t worry, man. We forgive your taste in movies. The leather is doing it for me.”

“Plus, you have a cute butt,” you said.

“That too,” Eddie nodded solemnly. “The cutest.”

“It’s perky.”

“Firm.”

“A prize-winning rump.”

“Can it, dorks,” Steve shushed. “Movie’s starting.”

Frankie Valli’s voice suddenly filled the room. You and Eddie burst into uncontrollable giggles that only worsened when Steve jumped up and began to sing along.

“Grease is the word, is the word that you heard!” he sang, a little pitchy on the high notes but otherwise very decent. “It’s got groove, it’s got meaning!”

And this time, when Eddie got up to goof along, there were no pangs in your chest. You watched on, feeling nothing but love. 

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

I love how each Byers kid thought about trying to explode Mike with their mind at least once during the airport scene.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Inspired by this hilarious post from @eerielake

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

just saw the prompts list and i had to😭😭😭

12. because at first it would be genuine but then he'd just start doing it on purpose and coming back into the room to get the stupidest of things🥺🤭

bestie you're absolutely right. a few other ppl also requested this one!! wc: 803; gn!reader

-

“Okay, see you later, sweetheart!” Steve called, blowing you a kiss as he finally left for work, the front door closing behind him. He was running late — as per usual — and had been in a rush to get out the door that morning to get to work. 

Only seconds later, though, the front door swung back open, causing you to jump in surprise before joking, “Damn, that was fast.”

Steve gave you a smile as he rummaged through the small bowl containing all of your keys. “Forgot my keys,” he explained, holding up his keychain as he fished it out, “Okay, take two. Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, babe!” you called, going back to your book. 

You were only a few sentences further in the book, when Steve burst back in through the door again. He was already scanning the room, when he explained, “Forgot my lunch this time.” 

Sure enough, his bagged lunch was sitting on the kitchen counter where he’d left it. You spotted it at the same time as him, and pointed in the direction, “The counter, babe.”

“Ugh, thanks,” he mumbled, quickly crossing  the room and scooping the bag up into his arms. Steve opened the brown paper bag, as if expecting to find that he’d forgotten to pack a lunch too, even though you’d helped him do it since he was running late. 

Saying goodbye once more, Steve headed back outside to his car, setting his lunch onto the passenger seat. He sank into his own seat, mentally running through all of the things he needed to bring with him, only to realize that he didn’t have his wallet. And the more he thought about it, Steve wasn’t sure he’d seen his wallet all morning. 

His head tilted back, hitting the headrest behind him a little too forcefully as he let out a groan and got out of the car. He knew you were going to give him shit — and rightfully so at this point — but he had to have his wallet. Pushing the door open, he gave you a sheepish smile as you looked up from your book again, scratching at the back of his head, “Have you seen my wallet today baby?”

“Steve. You can’t be serious,” you replied, staring at him straight-faced. You weren’t mad. Far from it, really. Really, it was quite impressive how forgetful he could be. 

“I know!” Steve all but whined as he began searching the living room, “I just realized I haven’t seen it all morning, normally it’s on the dresser, but…”

Setting your book down, you got up from the couch and started helping Steve search your apartment. It was only as you started down the hallway that you remembered the events of the night before. You and Steve had gone out for dinner, and when you got home, clothes were quickly discarded without much thought. You picked up his jeans from the previous evening and dug into the back pocket, “Aha! Found it, Stevie!”

Steve appeared in the doorway quickly, eyes wide, “You found it?!”

“Mhm,” you nodded in reply, dropping the jeans back onto the floor as you held the wallet out to him, “Didn’t have much time to worry about taking it out of your pocket last night…”

A grin took over Steve’s face as he let out a  laugh, “You’re right. Thanks so much, baby. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Did you forget anything else?” you asked as you both walked back to the front door, somewhat teasingly, though you were also serious, “How about your contacts? Are you wearing them? How many fingers am I holding up?” You took a step back, lifting four fingers into view.

“Ha ha. So funny,” he deadpanned, giving you another smile before mocking you, with his middle finger up, “Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Hey!” You shoved his shoulder with a giggle, trying to push him out the door, “You’re so going to be late now.”

“Robin’s gonna be pissed,” Steve nodded in agreement, taking a few steps outside. He paused, but before you could say anything, he added, “Actually, I forgot one more thing?”

“Of course you did.”

Steve turned on his heel, quickly taking the few steps back to you and cupped your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, bending you at the waist slightly as you scrambled to grab his shoulders. When he pulled back, you felt a bit dazed as the pad of his thumb swiped over your bottom lip gently, “Okay, now I can go. Thanks again, baby. I love you!”

It took a second for you to focus again, and Steve was already at his car by the time you called out, “Love you, too!”

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

Savior Complex

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have a savior complex when it comes to the people you care about. You would take every hit and insult for them if you could and it terrifies Steve to his core. When you get into a fight with Billy Hargrove to protect him and the kids, you hide something from them until it may be too late. 

Warnings: blood, angst, sharp objects, physical fights

Word Count: 3.4K

A/N: unedited as of now !

Keep reading

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

here’s some eddie. and his slutty little waist