yunirgo

[yunirgo]

shy girl

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. steve harrington finds himself entranced with achingly shy, quiet costumer at family video

content warnings. fluff, steve being a flirt, softie!steve, shy&quiet!reader, no use of y/n, pining, unestablished relationship, cutie patootie steve, r finding her confidence

word count. 2970

a/n. we all know ariel is a yapper when she has her voice so i’m writing this where r starts yapping when she isn’t so nervous and shy cause i can

disney princess collection

steve saw a lot of people come and go from family video. he didn’t have a knack for remembering who he’s seen come in, faces eventually blurring together the longer he worked there, the more hours he was given. there were regulars that came in, some of which he remembered vaguely. it’s hard to forget when someone comes in and rents out the same movie for the third time in a row, or picks up a particularly odd movie to watch. him and robin tended to gossip when that happened, so maybe that’s why folks like that were more likely to be committed to his memory.

there were exceptions to that, and you were absolutely apart of it.

from the moment you stepped foot into the store, head hung a little low, beelining your way towards the romcom section, steve was paying full attention to you. normally he wouldn’t pay any mind to customers when they came in, only assisting them in finding a movie if they asked, ringing them up while barely looking them in the face. you caught his eye.

you’re quick footsteps were what drew him in at first, though your looks were what kept him engaged. he only caught a glimpse of you at first as you hustled towards the back of the store, desperate to find the movie you were searching for. it was enough to have him double taking, eyes tracking your movements. steve, as nonchalantly as possible, went back to sliding more returned movies onto the shelves, now a little unfocused. it was only him in the store, so he knew he’d get the chance of a better look at you, to speak to you. a part of him wished robin was with him to see him in action, to prove to her that he wasn’t always striking out.

out of the corner of his eye, steve saw you shuffle your way up to the counter, two tapes in hand. with a deep breath, he turned on his feet, walking behind the counter to ring you up.

“hey beautiful,” he greeted not as smoothly as he planned. steve was fumbling with the scanner when he spoke, tripping over his feet slightly. he straightened up his back on instinct, offering a toothy smile to you. warmth spread across your face at his words, quickly handing him the movies to rent. he noticed the way you became flustered, mentally applauding himself as he gently took the tapes from your hand. “find what you were looking for okay?”

“hi, yeah,” you whispered out, a little unsure what to do with yourself, or how to accept the compliment he’d given you. you wondered if he said that to a lot of the girls that came in, and he was only being nice. when you didn��t say anything else to him, steve’s eyebrows quirked up in confusion. for someone who seemed interested and flustered at his compliment at first, you sure had a weird way of showing it.

after scanning the three tapes you’d brought up, steve gently slid them across the counter, offering up a charming smile. he watched as your eyelashes fluttered at the sight of it, your throat bobbing slightly as you swallow. now, he was even more confused than before. he watched as you handed him over a ten after he told you the total, his hands fumbling with your change as he thought through his next course of action.

“have a good rest of your day, beautiful, enjoy the movies,” steve settled on, the same charming smile as before. you gave him a small smile as you take the change from his hand, skin grazing against his, making you a little weak in the knees. you forced a small smile to him, one you wanted to be natural - a smile you knew you meant -, before grabbing the tapes and turning on your heels to leave.

steve watched as you leaved perplexed. he was glad robin wasn’t here to see that, maybe he was always striking out.

———

three days had passed since you’d come into family video, and you were still on steve’s mind. as pretty as you are, you had confused him a little. he’d gone straight to robin that night, rambling on about the conversation over the phone to her while she was working on her homework. all robin did was brush it off as if it was nothing, despite it plaguing his mind.

“maybe she just wasn’t into you, dingus. not everyone has to enjoy your flirting.”

obviously steve knew that. he’s been turned down dozens of times, and while it bruised his ego a little, he respected that. he let it go, because at the end of the day, it really wasn’t that big of a deal. with you it was a different. he truly thought you were into his compliment, taken aback by his flirting in a good way. he’s usually good at taking a hint. this just didn’t seem like that to him.

the moment steve saw you walk back into the store, his eyes lit up. this was his chance to try and get another read on you, to see if he was completely off base. you were quick to find your way to the front counter, your head on a swivel as you look around for someone to assist you.

you’d worked yourself up all morning to walking back in the store to return the movies you rented. you wanted to have something of use to say, to have any sort of reaction that wasn’t simply standing there awkwardly. all you thought of for the last couple days was the way steve smiled at you, the way he complimented you with such confidence, the way he seemed so casual with his flirting.

your eyes went wide when you watched him approach the counter, slipping back behind it to assist you again. you were hopeful he was working, to catch him at the right time. you were grateful you did. he looked just as handsome as you remembered. steve gave you the same charming smile he gave you earlier in the week, confident to redeem himself from something he didn’t need to.

“hey, i remember you,” steve said, looking you dead in the eyes, soft and inviting. “sixteen candles, right?”

you nodded quickly at his words, surprised he’d remembered you, let alone one of the movies you’d rented. you gave him a small smile as you gently handed him the tapes. you tried your best to make small talk, even if you were a little awkward with it. “yeah, it was good.”

you watched as steve marked the movies as returned in the computer system, before setting them aside in a bin for him to rewind later. unsure what to say, you gave steve a small smile, pointing your thumb towards the door as you start walking away. still without much of an answer, he let you walk out, waving a goodbye to you, before calling out to you.

“can’t wait to see you back in again, beautiful.”

whether he was being polite or he genuinely meant what he said, those words made your heart begin beating out of your chest. you turn your head to look back at him with a small smile, nearly running into the door as you push your way out. the sight of it made steve chuckle, shaking his head as he watched you stumble out of the store. while he may not have much a read on you still, he was convinced you at least liked his compliments a little.

———

four more days passed by between visits, though steve’s mind still stayed hooked on you. something about you drew him in. normally, he wasn’t one to gravitate towards quiet girls. he liked being around someone who could hold a conversation, who could laugh loud without a care in the world, who didn’t shy away from things. but you? you were intriguing, pretty, captivating. he kinda liked how quiet you were, it was different from what he’s used to. he was dying to know more about you.

you’d felt the same way about steve. you liked how outgoing he was, how confident he could be. it wasn’t often, if ever, that you were flirted with. especially not this boldly, not out in public without a care in the world. you yearned for the day you got to see him again.

a horror movie was calling your name as you found your way towards the video store again, a hint of hopefulness in your body as you step out of your car, shuffling your way towards the entrance. a large smile plastered on your face the moment your eyes found steve through the large window. you contained it the best you could as you opened the door, the bell jingling above you to notify him that someone had entered.

he was behind the counter today as you entered, fumbling around with a tape he was rewinding. steve’s head lifted up at the sound of the door opening, back straightening up from its hunched form at the sight of you. he watched you smile small and wave, fingers wiggling slightly as you walk towards the counter. he smiled along with you, eyes curiously dancing across your face, watching you stop in front of the counter.

“hey,” steve greeted, sitting the tape down. he stared down at you, noticing the way your fingers fumbled with each other.

“hey,” you responded, staring up into his eyes, still a little shy. normally, you’d go searching for the movie on your own, seeing what catches your eye. you liked browsing in peace. but now that you’d met steve? you wanted nothing more than an excuse to talk to him. “do you have any good horror movies in?”

steve was quick to move from the counter, rounding around it, eager to help you find a movie. he ushered you towards the horror section, making sure you were following him over before he started to ramble on. you stood just a few inches away from him as he began pointing through movies, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, his expensive cologne wafting into your senses. it had your mind racing.

“we’ve got a lot right now,” he started. “if you’re looking for slashers we have sleepaway camp in, friday the thirteenth, prom night. i’d usually reccomend a nightmare on elm street, but i just rented it out this morning.”

you shook your head slightly, nose scrunching up his words. while you usually didn’t mind slashers, enjoyable at times, you were looking for something different. and hey, maybe you just wanted to hear steve keep talking, but that wasn’t the point. he gave you a small smile, walking over just a few inches to read off more movies.

“no slashers today, got it. we’ve got poltergeist, the shining, hellraiser,” he rambled off, pointing at each of them as he spoke. steve watched as you carefully reach for poltergeist, sliding it off the shelf and into your grip. you show it to him with a small smile.

“good choice,” he affirms, nodding his head towards the counter again, walking first as you follow. you hand him the tape once he finds his way back behind the counter, putting it under your name, before he scans it into the system. steve, as smoothly as possible, indirectly asks you a question that’s been weighing on his mind. “i’m sure you and your boyfriend are gonna love it.”

“boyfriend?” you squeak out quickly, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. the last thing you wanted was for steve to think you had a boyfriend. you were single, very single. you barely noticed the small, smug smirk that graced his lips, head turning to look at you slightly.

“no boyfriend, got it,” he noted in a whisper, though loud enough for you to hear. he handed the tape back to you, skin making contact just like the first time you’d interacted with him. you started to fist out some cash from your purse, only for steve to interrupt you in a smooth, quiet voice. “don’t worry about it, beautiful. it’s on me today.”

you look up at him in surprise, lips parting slightly as your mind starts to turn, looking for something to say. the smug smile that seemed to have a permanent place on his face was still there, his brown eyes soft and charming. he seemed insistent on it.

“you’re sure?” you asked quietly, a small from on your face. as sweet as it was, you didn’t want him to feel obligated to. not that you’d given him a reason to feel that way.

“absolutely,” steve told you, sincerity dripping from every inch of him.

“thank you,” you told him, voice still small, an appreciative smile replacing your frown. you fumbled with your purse while you began your journey out of the store. you gave him a wave goodbye before you exit, the bell leaving him in silence.

you realized quickly on your ride home that you should’ve invited him over to watch it with you. while he might not have been implying it, it just seemed like the right thing to do. steve was sweet, charming, and seemed as into you as you were into him. it would’ve been nice to watch the movie with the man. if only you weren’t so nervous around him. you could barely get a word out, let alone enough to ask him on a date.

———

it seemed your luck has run out on your fourth trip to family video. despite being excited to come back, only a day between trips, you must’ve came in on steve’s day off. up front today was robin, who was rewinding videos just like he was just the other day. you frowned as you not-so-casually looked around the store, slowly walking towards the front counter. the girl offered you a tight lipped smile as you approached her, setting the tapes down, noticing your eyes searching the store.

“looking for something?” robin asked, watching as you give her the same small smile. you shook your head, handing her the tape you’d been so kindly given by steve.

“no, just came to return this,” you told her, hands moving to meet each other in front of you, thumbs twiddling together. there was a disappointed look on your face she noticed quickly. robin was able to pinpoint exactly why the moment she’d taken a glance down at the name of the film. her lips quirked up in a smile, immediately going to search for your name in the computer system.

“it’s his day off,” she informed you without saying his name. you were quick to understand who she was talking about, of course you were. you hummed out quietly at her words, from deepening slightly. you were excited to see him, disappointed that you didn’t get to. so much so that you didn’t realize she knew you were looking for him. not until she continued to talk. “i was starting to believe you weren’t real, ya know. thought he was making you up for fun.”

heat rose up your neck and to your face robins words, one of your hands moving to the back of your neck to scratch awkwardly. you looked over at her expectantly, your heart beating fast. “he’s been talking about me?”

“god yeah,” robin told you, huffing out a breath of air. “he won’t shut up about you.”

you found yourself quoting him as you backed away from the counter, seeing yourself out as you spoke under your breath, words robin just barely caught. “good to know.”

———

the next time you were in family video, you didn’t have a single intention of getting a movie. the only thing you went in for was steve, to see his face, to hear his voice. you practically skipped through the front door when you noticed he was working today, an excited smile on your face as you found your way towards him. he had his back towards you putting away some movies, so he hadn’t noticed it was you who entered the store. not until you spoke to him.

“steve?” you called out in a soft voice, hands behind your back politely as you wait for him to answer. he was quick to spin around on his feet, an immediate smile on his face when he’d heard it was you. your voice was recognizable, especially because of how scarcely you used it. “hey.”

“hey, you,” steve responded, a cheesy look on his face as he sets everything down from his hands, arms crossing as his focus shifts to you.

“you weren’t here when i returned poltergeist, i didn’t get to tell you how i liked it,” you told him, an even cheesier look on your face. you watched as steve glanced between the watch on his wrist and robin, who was manning down the counter. it was a busy saturday, one of the only times there were two people on shift together.

he held up a finger for you to wait, a large smile on his face as he shuffles quickly over to the counter. he rested his forearms against the surface, leaning over to robin to speak in a low whisper. you watched curiously as they spoke together, seeing the girl shake her head in disbelief, a loud, exasperated sigh leaving her lips. steve seemed pleased with himself when he finally found his way back to you.

“convinced her to let me take my 30 minutes early. you can tell me all about the movie over lunch. deal?” he asked full of hope. his round, hazel eyes looked at you expectantly, soft and welcoming and intoxicating to look at.

“deal.”

[yunirgo]

Attempted Murder

This is part Eight of Welcome to Hellfire. You can find part one here.

Summary: You and Eddie get a little hot and heavy on your living room floor, then he cooks you dinner. Warning: Dry Humping, Liiiitle bit of dirty talk, Eddie busts in his pants.

You weren’t sure you’d ever been as turned on as you were sitting in Eddie’s lap on your living room floor. 

He’d manhandled you into straddling him after some teasing, and you couldn’t be more thrilled by the position you found yourself in. 

You were struggling to set the pace of the kiss, as if neither of you could decide whether you should take it slow or let the overwhelming want for one another take the wheel. It went from frantic to passionate and sloppy, then sped back up until you were mewling into the kiss.

Your hips rocked into his rhythmically, and his fingers dug into your skin so hard that you were sure they’d leave bruises. 

“This is attempted murder.” Eddie muttered breathily into your mouth, “God, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me if you keep doing that.” 

“I can’t help it.” You whined and he felt the sound go all the way down to his dick, which twitched happily against your aching core. “It’s hot hearing you talk about your dorky game. Got me all worked up.” 

You pulled his bottom lip into your mouth and swiped your tongue over it like you were some kind of kissing expert. 

He groaned into the kiss and let his hands wander a little. They trailed up the sides of your waist so softly that it made you shudder, writhing under his touch like his hands on your skin alone could pitch you over the edge. 

His hands slid up the back of your shirt, caloused and unsure, but firm. He pulled you even closer, and your back arched slightly, driving your hips further. 

You both gasped softly, but didn’t stop. 

The seam of your jeans paired with the thick, solid bulge beneath you were working wonders on your clit. Every roll of your hips sent pleasure coursing through your entire body. 

You moaned, and Eddie’s grip on you tightened. 

It was hard to focus on anything else. 

It felt so fucking good and you weren’t even entirely aware of the sounds falling from your lips. 

But Eddie certainly was. 

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what was happening, but it was very clear that you were enjoying yourself. 

It was so fucking hot. 

He was scared that he was going to cream his pants, but the prospect of being able to get you off without losing any of your clothes was too exciting to pass up, and he figured that the embarrassment would be overshadowed by the feeling of satisfaction that came with it.

Eddie started pressing hot, open-mouthed, sloppy kisses to the side of your throat, guiding your hips with his hands. 

“Holy shit.” He groaned into your neck, “Is that good, sweetheart?” 

“Really fucking good.” you panted, tugging on the roots of his hair “Fuck, I don’t think anything’s ever felt this good.” 

His teeth grazed the skin at the base of your throat, where it met your collarbone, and you jolted in his lap. 

“Hmmm,” He hummed into you, smiling mischievously “You liked that, didn’t you?” 

He did it again and the whimper you let out had to be his favourite sound yet. 

Tentatively, Eddie cupped his lips around the spot and sucked lightly. 

“Fuck, Eddie!” You gasped, clinging to him. 

“That’s it, Sweetheart, keep making those pretty sounds for me.” He muttered lowly. “Think I found your special spot.” 

You were losing yourself in him, grinding your hips down recklessly while he dragged you over his throbbing length, grunting and groaning into your skin as he suckled and nipped at your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue, working you into a frenzy. 

His name was falling from your lips like a prayer, increasing in frequency and pitch with every rock of your hips. 

“Eddie,” You were practically babbling “Eddie, baby, you’re gonna make me-” 

“Cum?” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to not also pitch himself over the edge “I want you to.” 

“Please,” He panted, struggling to keep even a shred of his composure “Please, please, please, cum for me.” 

A low moan tore its way out of your throat, and your entire body seized up, clinging to him while your hips moved in jerky circles, riding your orgasm out with your face buried in his hair. 

“Jesus, fuck.” he let out a breathy laugh, thrilled with himself despite the wet spot blooming in his jeans from his own inevitable release. “I think today is the best day of my whole life.” 

“Yeah?” You chuckled, still limp and draped over him. 

“Hell yeah!” he trailed his fingertips up and down your spine over his shirt absently while he rambled excitedly “I wake up with you in my bed, make my best batch of pancakes yet, somehow managed to snag you as my girlfriend, and now, I’ve been dry-humped into oblivion by my super hot girlfriend and all my D&D figurines witnessed it, so no one can call me a liar!” 

“Who’s gonna call you a liar?” You laughed. 

“That demigorgon over there is facing the wrong way” He pointed as if this were some very serious thing. As if the miniatures would start gossiping as soon as you left the room. “I think he’s doing it on purpose. Miserable bastard just can’t stand to see me win.” 

For that, Eddie got a full-blown, head-thrown-back belly laugh from you. 

You found it so funny that you almost rolled right out of his lap and onto the floor, but he somehow kept a tight hold on you despite his own laughter. 

He loved your laugh. 

It was real. Not just something to fill the air at the right parts in the conversation, or when you thought he’d want to hear it. No, you laughed when you found things truly funny and you didn’t seem to care how crazy you looked while you did it. 

He couldn’t help but double down on today being the best day. 

Not only because you agreed to be his girlfriend, or that he came in his pants with you in his lap, but the day that he, Eddie Munson, could say with absolute certainty, that he was completely, irrevocably, hopelessly in love with you. 

You took turns showering despite the urge to ask Eddie to join you. 

You were a little sensitive from practically rubbing your most sensitive flesh raw against his jeans, and figured that the first time that the two of you did shower together, you wanted to have some fun. 

So, you went first and luckily, Eddie had a change of clothes or four in the back of his van. 

He came out with wet hair and smelling of strawberries. 

“You only have girly soap.” He grumbled as soon as he ventured back out into the living room, pouting cutely in a pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else. 

“Oh, you poor-” You started, but trailed off when your eyes got stuck on his bare chest and your mouth went dry. 

Your thoughts drifted to the feeling of his tongue at the base of your throat, and you wondered if he’d like it as much as you had. 

What kinds of sounds would he make? 

God, you just wanted to sink your teeth into him and kiss his tattoos. 

You’d obviously spent too long staring and were torn from your thoughts by the sound of Eddie clearing his throat, looking very amused. 

“Fuck, sorry.” Your cheeks burned and you looked away, mortified to have been caught staring. 

“Are you joking?” Eddie scoffed, rolling over the back of the couch to sit next to you with the grace of a baby giraffe. “Sweetheart, you can oogle me all day long. You won’t hear me complain, I promise.” 

“Oh my god,” You groaned. Hiding your face in the blanket draped over your shoulders, “I was not oogling.” 

“Sure you were.” Eddie teased, leaning right into you “You were looking at me like a piece of meat!” 

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he poked your cheek lightly. 

You huffed out a laugh and swatted his hands away. 

“You still wanna learn?” He gestured to the D&D stuff scattered around the living room “We did not get very far. You were being very distracting.” 

“I’m not gonna be able to focus.” you glanced over at his bare chest again, “Like, at all. Unless you’re gonna put a shirt on.” 

“I’m very much enjoying how flustered you are.” 

“Yeah, I bet you are.” 

The two of you ended up watching a movie. 

Well, talking through it really. 

You’d started off sitting side by side, but as the conversation went on and the two of you got comfy. You melted into one another, and by the time the end credits were rolling, you were draped across Eddie’s chest, absently tracing his tattoos while you spoke softly. His fingers were threaded through your hair, gently combing through it. 

“I’m starving.” He sat up suddenly, pulling you up with him, maneuvering you into his lap so he didn’t knock you right off the couch. “Are you not hungry?” 

“I guess.” You glanced out the window and saw that the sun was setting and grimaced. “Yeah, we should probably eat something.” 

“I hate to say it, but I don’t think I can do pancakes again.” Eddie sighed dramatically. 

“Let me see what we’ve got.” You pulled yourself to your feet to rifle through the cabinets in the kitchen and felt Eddie follow you. 

He was so close that you could feel his breath on the top of your head. 

You chuckled under your breath, less annoyed than you thought you might be when he inevitably started tripping you up halfway to the kitchen. 

Surely, one day, Eddie would do something that you found obnoxious, but at that point, everything he did was endearing. He was a little awkward and clumsy and dorky as all hell, but you were eating it up. 

He reached over you and opened the cabinet. 

“I know how to make Spaghetti.” He murmured, mostly to himself. 

“You gonna cook for me, Munson?” You tilted your head back to look at him with a goofy little smile that melted his heart. 

“Well that depends.” He hunched over to peck you on the lips “Are you gonna eat it even if it’s terrible?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then hell yeah.” he nodded decisively “I’ll make you the meanest Spaghetti you’ve ever had.” 

“That’s tough talk.” You hummed, leaning back into his chest. “Do I get to help?” 

“You get to watch.” Eddie picked you up unexpectedly and spun you around to sit you up on the counter “All you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.” 

“And maybe tell me where to find literally everything.” He glanced around the room in search of a pot. 

“Bottom cabinet next to the fridge.” You chuckled, “Colander should be in there too.” 

He dug around and pulled them both out, holding the colander out in front of him. 

“What did you call this thing?” 

“A colander?” 

“This here, is a strainer.” He corrected, squinting at you suspiciously “Trying to trip me up with your fancy witch words.” 

“Why would I do that?” You gasped playfully. 

“I don’t know yet,” His head cocked to the side “But when I find out, you’d better watch it.” 

You blinked at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. 

Watching Eddie cook you dinner felt so domestic and homey that it made your heart hurt. 

He fed you spoonfuls of sauce and blew on them first to make sure that you didn’t burn your mouth and danced around the kitchen like a madman, making the biggest mess any living soul could have possibly made while cooking something as simple as spaghetti, but he’d promised you something good and fuck, was it ever. 

“This is really fucking good, Eddie,” You hummed appreciatively, sitting so close to him at the table that your knee was hooked over his leg. 

“It helps that you buy the fancy sauce in the jar instead of Ragu,” His ears warmed. 

“I’ve made it with just the sauce before, and it’s never tasted like this.” You leaned into him, not thinking anything of it. “You did good, baby. You’re practically a Michelin-star chef.” 

He didn’t expect your praise to hit him so hard, but it did. 

Eddie didn’t hear a lot of praise, in any area of his life, really.  

His grades were bad enough that he was on his third attempt at graduation, his band exclusively played for a small crowd of drunks, and being a dungeon master was something he was very passionate about, but he didn’t necessarily hear verbal appreciation for. He knew that hellfire liked what he planned for them. He could see it on their faces every time they played together, but hearing the words ‘you did good’ falling from your lips had him buzzing. 

You made him feel like he could do anything.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics MDNI Banner by @cafekitsune Photo by @littlebumblebee

Masterlist Tag list: @walleloveseve @farrowroyale @givemiacookie @jeangeniex @cheesesandwichsanto @klutzylaena @mdurdenpitt @3sriracha @shokihomin @awkward00noodle @underatedgentlemencollector-blog @gxpsywitch19 @lexr86 @tanyaherondale @g3n3zshack @jjmaybankswifes-blog @be-gentle-with-my-potatos

[yunirgo]

please... my tits... you have to grope them and pull my top down to expose them and suck on them... there's not much time left... i'll explain later... just do it okay..

[yunirgo]

baby baby baby

[yunirgo]

i don’t feel like i’m old enough to be my age

[yunirgo]

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

lovesick! steve harrington who leaves little anonymous notes in your locker, saying how pretty your hair looks or how he loves that color shirt on you. he absolutely adores the smile on your face when he sees you read these notes, your face lights up like the sun and he has to hold back a smile himself.

lovesick! steve harrington who's your biggest supporter. whenever you get a good grade on a test, he's always the first to offer to buy you ice cream to celebrate. whenever you go shopping and find a cute new outfit, he's always complimenting you, saying how pretty it would look on you. what can he say - he's your biggest fanboy.

lovesick! steve harrington who, when you finally get together, cannot stop talking about lucky he is to have you. like, seriously, robin's getting sick and tired of hearing how amazing you are. but steve's just so in love, really, it's not his fault he can't shut up about how fucking perfect his girl is.

lovesick! steve harrington who loves physical affection. like, that man cannot go more than ten minutes without touching you. he's such a clingy boy. whether it's something small like a hand on your thigh or an arm around your waist, (or even better a full blown makeout session) he craves the affection.

lovesick! steve harrington who calls you things like 'sweetheart' or 'baby' more than your own name. he just loves using pet names, he thinks it's so cute (and you secretly love it too).

lovesick! steve harrington who loves to buy you things. flowers, chocolate, necklaces, perfumes, you name it! he sees you eyeing something in a store? he's getting it for you. it's your birthday or some holiday? he's going all out for you. he feels like spoiling his baby girl? he's buying you something.

lovesick! steve harrington who was made to be a boyfriend. dating you is seriously one of the best parts of his life, and he just loves you so so much.

[yunirgo]

a masterpiece of art, it's true

[yunirgo]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[yunirgo]

rock on

[yunirgo]

SIR HOW DARE YOU

[yunirgo]

hairrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[yunirgo]

steve harrington finding you handmade jewellery on your summer trips <3 he'll sneak off while you're getting ready, slip out the door while you're in the shower, just to wander down some hot street and find the bracelet that caught your eye just a few hours ago, or he'll see the most perfect necklace that just screams the name of city your in and he won't be able to leave without it, he'll come back, slip it into his bag for later, maybe wait till you get home but sometimes, something can be so precious that he just has to give it to you now, telling you to turn as he clasps the necklace around your neck or he ties the bracelet around your wrist, blushing over your love-locked expression as you ask him a thousand questions about where, when and why he got it for you, he'll always just shrug and mutter something about pretty girls deserving pretty things and while that's true, deep down he does it for the memories, so you can look down and remember this trip, this summer, whenever and wherever you are <3

[yunirgo]

could you do any dad!steve? maybe with new baby

I am never escaping the dad trope lol, and I don't want to! This got angsty fast, though, as it's an idea I've been toying around with for the better part of years now and you've given me the chance to get it out there. I present to you:

𝐃𝐚𝐝ⵑ𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐌𝐨𝐦ⵑ𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, tw: postpartum depression. reader is not happy and experiencing mom guilt.

Summary: Steve Harrington, first time father of one, muses about you, the mother of his child.

“I know, I know…” Steve cooed, foot frantically tapping against the kitchen tile while he waited for hot water to heat the liquid contained in the bottle, floating in the pot. 

  He was the poster boy for exhaustion, one shoulder of his shirt covered in spit up, the other with a spit up rag slung over it. Also, covered in spit up. His sweats were no better, stained with projectile spit up, her pee because surprise, surprise, female babies can also have little pee streams, and whatever he was trying to eat before she’d start crying and he fumbled his meal to get to her. 

  The baby, tucked into a bassinet Steve was dragging around the house at that point, was just a few weeks old, and furious. Little limbs wiggling and shaking, face scrunched up as she cried. Agatha was pissed and obviously didn’t give a crap what he was saying and Steve let out a heavy sigh, practically feeling the frustration she was experiencing, as a result of picking up on his own emotions. Joyce Byers had told him babies had a way of doing that. Little bundles of empathy, yet to be marred by the world.

  Three weeks out of the hospital, and already she was experiencing a multitude of emotions he could barely stand. Largely, the concern and loneliness.

  Agatha’s screams continued to echo, the bottle continued to warm on the stove, and Steve turned his head towards the stairs. Melancholy weighed heavy on his chest as he thought of you. You probably hadn’t moved since he’d last checked on you a few minutes ago, curled up on the window nook and staring blankly out of it.

  You didn’t talk to him a whole lot. Didn’t do much, either. Steve would like to say he noticed the first change when he’d brought the two of you back home, but he’d noticed it before then. Noticed in that delivery room.

  You’d been unsure of being a mother when you found out you were pregnant, but a family had been something the two of you always talked about. To you, specifically, it seemed to be something that would always be in the future, never something that would be happening right now. The joy soon found you, and you were ecstatic to be welcoming your baby. Hand painted so many of the designs in her nursery, built up an impressive library and wardrobe for her, discussed your yearning for the days where you’d get to sit out in the yard with her in your arms, read to her, nurse her. You wanted it.

  But Steve had seen the look in your eyes when the nurse had put your baby girl’s trembling body in your arms. Or rather, he’d seen what was missing from them. 

  It was like your body was in the room, but you weren’t. You didn’t want to be there. Didn’t want to hold her. 

  You weren’t very chatty after the birth, quiet, reserved and pleasant. Too busy catching up on what you hadn’t been able to eat while pregnant, to pay attention to the baby girl everyone was cooing over and you seemed vaguely uncomfortable anytime one of your friends diverted their attention away to check on you.

  It should have been the first sign for Steve to let the doctor know but he wrote it off as you being tired. Because you were. Tired. 

  When he brought you home, he’d thought you’d be much better. Surrounded by your things, and memories, and nothing but reminders of his love for you. You’d be better.

  And then you weren’t. You went about your normal routine, chores, errands, all without so much as a smile on your face. No frown, either, just…nothing. 

  It was when Steve couldn’t deny how desperate you were to not pick up the baby, to not have to hold her, that he had to accept what was happening.

  A diagnosis was given, one that was hard for you to deal with because you’d been difficult when it came to discussing your feelings, let alone doing so with a doctor.

  “Honey, it’s not a big deal! Your hormones have changed and you-you read the same baby books as me─” Of course, he’d said the wrong thing.

  “ ‘Not a big deal’?” Your eyes were shiny and blazing, “Not a big deal? You’re asking me to go to a doctor. Like something’s wrong with me and it’s not a big deal to you? Do you think I’m crazy? What—just because I’m not happy as fuck to change her diapers?”

  Steve’s stomach hurt, twisting at both his pain and yours.

  “It’s not the diapers, honey. It’s not…” He paused, throat swallowing around a heavy emotion, “You’re not crazy. You’re not.”

  “I’m not.” You confirmed, ready to stomp back upstairs to the master bedroom and pretend this never happened when he spoke softly.

  “You just won’t pick her up after.”

  You hesitated on the first step, turning to face him while you stared at the ground, almost mortified that he’d said what you’d intentionally been doing out loud; changing her diapers because she smelled or wouldn’t. stop. crying. and then immediately announcing to Steve that she was ready so he could grab her. And if he noticed that, well…he’d also noticed how frequently you disappeared to pump. Always handing him a bottle when one was needed before fluttering off to some other part of the house or outside. Not around. The last time you’d even nursed Agatha was in the hospital. It’d be fine if you didn’t want to, you just had to tell him. You both knew breastfeeding wasn’t for everyone. That led him to believe it was something more. And whenever you had to put her to sleep because Steve for some reason couldn’t, you’d always get this far out look on your face, like you were disassociating. Would rather be anywhere else.

  You weren’t you and what scared Steve most was how you were intentionally trying to deceive him into thinking you were fine. Because it meant you were trying to convince yourself, too. Holding it all in.

  You had swallowed hard, cleared your throat and attempted a shrug, “So? I clean her poop and you take the next shift. Thought that was what we were doing.”

  Steve knew he’d get nowhere with you if you continued to shy away from what he was saying. He knew it would hurt you, but he had to be direct if he wanted to get you help.

  “Do you like holding her?” You were put on the spot, he knew he’d finally gotten through. You fidgeted, a hand reaching up to massage the back of your neck, something Steve always did to comfort and soothe you.

  “Uhm—I,”

  “Do you want to hold her?”

  The tears came before you could stop them and you knew he knew. Your face crumpled. In a flash, Steve had you in his arms while you cried into his chest.

  ”I don’t know what’s wrong with me, she’s perfect but she doesn’t feel like she’s mine. And she hasn’t done anything wrong and I just don’t─”

  Steve hushed you, pressing kiss after kiss to your forehead as he held you tight, “It’ll be okay, honey. It will. I promise.”

  The first few doctors were dismissive of you and your feelings and Steve had let them, their staff, and everyone in the waiting area know how little he cared for their conduct. Then came a saint. This doctor had said it was Postpartum Depression. 

  A scarily common thing for those who give birth, and widely undiagnosed because either women didn’t seek treatment for various reasons and aspects in their life, or they weren’t taken seriously when reaching out for help.

  Steve had hoped knowing it wasn’t your fault, knowing it wasn’t anyone’s fault, would help you but you’d been even more quiet since. Had even chosen the window nook as your new roost. 

  He was lucky he had a more than an average amount of time saved up at work to stay home. Steve had imagined it would be used as family bonding time, time he’d get to spend with both his girls, and now he’s trying to make sure both of his girls may someday get the chance to bond. 

  Steve was snapped out of his head when some hot water splashed on his hand and he hissed, cursing under his breath as he quickly turned the burner off. The water was boiling, there was no way he’d be able to give that milk to Aggie. Shit, how could he get so fucking in his head and distracted—

  The baby. 

  Steve immediately registered that the house was quiet, his head darted in the direction of the bassinet and his heart dropped when he saw it was empty.

  HIS BABY!

  “Aggie?” He called out like a dumbass as if his three week old baby would respond. 

  The stove, the pot, and the bottle were abandoned as he frantically searched the house for her, literally running down the hall. The front door was locked, so was the back door so no one had broken in.

  And then a thought occurred to him. One that filled him with far too much hope. His frantic steps became quiet, afraid to make so much as a creak when he made his way upstairs and down the hall.

  With bated breath, he pushed the bedroom door open. 

  You were still in on the nook, just as he suspected. The top windows were open, allowing a sweet breeze into your bedroom, curtains billowing gently on either side of you. Rays of sun framed you, a light blanket over your lap. A blanket that housed your daughter. Steve could see her little fist, clenching and unclenching even with her little mittens on—she liked to scratch her face and then get mad about it—as she nursed. You kept her close, thumb stroking over the soft, exposed delicate skin of Agatha’s arm while you read, occasionally mouthing a few words. 

  Steve stood almost paralyzed, in complete astonishment as he watched the two of you.

  At some point, Aggie began making an intense grunting noise and you looked away from your book, down at her in concern as she unlatched herself from you. 

  “Oh, what’s going on─” Aggie let out a large and long toot and her grunting immediately stopped before she began to root around for your nipple again. You let out a loud laugh, body shaking with it as you assisted her with latching. “Such a silly girl. Stinky, too.”

  Steve almost joined you, almost walked in that room, to take part in it. He didn’t. Legs twitched to move forward, but he just smiled, amused with Aggie and happy to see you smile. Steve would just linger in the doorway for now, satisfied with letting his girls bond.

𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 ℗ 𝑐𝑎𝑓𝑒𝑘𝑖𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑒 ♡

[yunirgo]

𝙸 𝙰𝙼? | 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚅𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚃𝙾𝙽

Pairings: Drunk! Steve x Reader

Word Count: 2, 272 words

Summary: Steve drinks himself into a dramatic spiral over his unrequited love for his best friend, you. You’re absolutely no help. Mostly because you’re too busy laughing at his dramatic little love confession meltdown.

Contains: Hangover recovery, mentions of drunk behavior, soft teasing, reader absolutely clowning Steve for his antics, Steve being the most dramatic sap ever, sweet kisses and fluffy ending.

A/N: Honestly just wanted to write hungover Steve being confused and needy, lmao.

masterlist |

Steve Harrington was, by all accounts, tragically wasted.

He had his face half-buried into Robin’s hoodie, one shoe missing, and was currently narrating his heartbreak like a sad poet with too much lip gloss on his mouth.

“She doesn’t love me,” he mumbled.

Robin exhaled slowly. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do! She’s too perfect for me. Too sunshiney. Too good.” He sniffed loudly. “She needs a guy with a jawline and like... a motorcycle.”

Eddie sat cross legged across the room, lazily flipping through a magazine and sipping a beer. “You have a jawline.”

“Not a good one,” Steve said dramatically. “Not a jawline she’d marry.”

Robin leaned her head back against the couch and mouthed, I’m going to scream.

Steve, for his part, kept rambling. “She’s probably out right now. With that guy. You know, the one. The guy with the forearms.”

“Steve,” Robin said slowly. “She’s not seeing anyone else.”

“She better not be,” he said, very seriously. “Because I’d duel him. Like swords. Or nunchucks. Do people still do that?”

Eddie blinked. “Have you ever held a sword?”

“Metaphorically, yes.”

Robin sat forward. “Okay. Steve. Listen. She's-”

“I mean, we’re best friends, right? But like best best friends. Like, if we were in a movie, it’d be the part where I stare at her in the rain and whisper something dumb like, ‘It’s always been you,’ and she forgives me for being a total dumbass and then we make out.”

Eddie snorted. “Jesus Christ.”

Robin tried again. “Steve. Let me just say-”

“I can’t tell her, okay?” he shouted, as if someone had objected. “It would ruin everything. She’d laugh or... or worse. She’d pity me. And she deserves someone who’s, like, emotionally stable and... doesn’t cry at the end of The Neverending Story."

Eddie opened his mouth. “Dude, you’re-”

“I know!” Steve wailed. “I’m her idiot best friend. Her go to guy. The guy who shows up with fries and lets her rant about her stupid coworker and doesn’t kiss her even when he really, really wants to.”

Robin slapped her hands on her knees. “Steve. Shut up for two seconds-”

“She doesn’t need to know I’m in love with her. Okay? She’s got a good thing going. Probably dating some art history major who reads poetry in French. I’ll just stay out of it.”

Eddie looked at Robin.

Robin looked at Eddie.

Both of them looked at Steve.

Then they got up, dragged and forced him into Eddie’s van.

You opened your door in a tank top and pajama pants, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “Steve?”

He blinked at you like you were a hallucination. “You’re home.”

“Yeah? It’s midnight. What’s going on?”

Robin shoved him gently forward. “Go on, Romeo.”

Steve stumbled inside, dazed. You reached for his hand instinctively. He gripped it like a lifeline.

“I came to say,” he began, very seriously, “that I love you.”

You paused. “Okay…”

“I know you’re taken,” he sighed. “And that’s fine. You deserve that. You deserve flowers and matching playlists and forehead kisses.”

“Steve-”

“No, it’s okay. I just had to say it once. So I don’t die with it inside me.”

You blinked.

Behind him, Robin and Eddie silently waved at you. Robin gestured wildly to say something. Eddie mimed a heart and pointed between the two of you.

“Steve,” you said softly. “Look at me.”

He did, watery eyed and flushed.

“You’re my boyfriend, dummy.”

He blinked.

Then blinked again.

“…Oh,” he said.

You smiled. “Yeah.”

A beat.

“I am?” he asked, voice cracking with confusion and wonder.

“You’ve been my boyfriend for like, six months.”

He looked behind him slowly at Robin and Eddie, who both gave simultaneous we tried shrugs.

Steve turned back to you, face flushed red and stunned into silence.

"I am." He says, sheepishly and now giggling.

Steve woke up with the grace of a corpse dragged from the lake.

Groaning, he blinked into your ceiling, one arm flopped over his face, one leg shoved halfway off the bed, your pillow missing entirely from under his head.

“Kill me,” he rasped.

You were already up. In the kitchen, making coffee, humming something cheerful. Too cheerful.

He frowned into the sunlight slanting through your curtains.

Why were you humming?

You were never that happy before 10 a.m.

His stomach dropped.

You walked into the room holding a mug, your sleep shirt oversized and your smile borderline evil.

“Good morning, Romeo.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Why do you look like you’re up to something?”

You sat beside him on the edge of the bed, handed him the coffee like you hadn’t been waiting to destroy him with it.

“No reason. Just wanted to see how my boyfriend’s head was doing.”

Steve winced, sipping carefully. “Feels like there’s a demon in it. One with a tiny drum set.”

You patted his hair. “Well, at least you weren’t dramatic or anything.”

“Don’t mess with me right now. My brain is literal soup.”

You shrugged. “Sure. I mean, Robin and Eddie dragged you to me like you were Frodo with the One Ring. And you did tell me you’d duel my imaginary boyfriend with nunchucks.”

Steve slowly turned to look at you, mortified. “...What.”

“Oh, and when they left, you cried. A little. About how I needed a man with a motorcycle.”

His face hit the pillow. “No.”

“And about your jawline.”

Steve groaned into the sheets. “Stop. Please. I’m too fragile.”

“I wish I recorded it,” you said, sighing. “Steve Harrington, prince of hair, heartbreaker of Hawkins sobbed because he thought he was ‘just the fries guy.’”

He peeked out from the blanket. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I earned this,” you said smugly. “Six months of going on dates, flirting, romantic drives, and homemade cookies, and my boyfriend forgot we were dating.”

“I was drunk!”

“You thought I had another boyfriend!”

“You said someone at work had nice forearms!”

“I was talking about a golden retriever named Max!”

Steve slumped, face pressed into your thigh. “I hate myself.”

You giggled, running your fingers through his hair. “It was kind of cute. You were very sincere. You said I deserved forehead kisses and little dates.”

He groaned again.

“And then you called me your sunshine girl and threatened to write a mixtape about your pain.”

“Okay,” Steve said, sitting up and wincing dramatically. “That’s enough. I’m cutting you off.”

You grinned, leaning in until your forehead touched his. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Steve huffed, cheeks pink. “Yeah. Lucky is one word for it.”

You kissed his cheek. Then the tip of his nose. Then his lips, soft and smiling.

And even with a hangover from hell, Steve smiled back.

“…Wait. Did I really say I’d use nunchucks?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t even own nunchucks…I take it back. I regret nothing.”

You laughed so hard, you nearly dropped your mug.

[yunirgo]

hands on you | steve harrington x fem!reader

Pairing | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, mutual masturbation, size kink, dirty talk. big dick harrington making his return.

Word Count | 2.3k

A/N | nobody say a damn word. not a damn word. dedicated to @loveshotzz <3

“That… Jesus, Steve,” You’re looking at him — or moreso, it — with a morbid curiosity and wide eyes.

His cock hangs heavy over his tummy, weighed down by its own sheer size, flushed a needy dark pink at the tip and curved ever so slightly to the right, “Babe, how has any girl ever taken that?” 

And it’s really a genuine, valid question to ask. He’s so big it makes your mouth water and your pussy clench, though it niggles in the back of your head that he’s guaranteed to be such a stretch. Your hand lays on his thigh, caressing the tan, toned flesh under your biting nails, and you choose to ignore the way he’s hissing from such a simple touch.

“Nobody has, honey,” Steve answers honestly, looking down with blown out eyes as your hand inches closer, backs of your knuckles brushing over his heavy sack, “I mean, I've — I've obviously had sex before, that’s a given. Just that I've had to stop halfway, ‘cause it hurts them.”

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself, ghosting your fingertips up the length of his shaft until it’s kicking up under your touch, a blurt of precum spilling from his slit, pooling into the dip of his bellybutton, “You’re real sensitive.” 

Your voice is breathy, strangled in your throat and Steve whimpers, hips canting up when you wrap your hand loosely around the tip, thumb smearing through the mess he’s making. Your touch is gone as fast as it’s there, pressing your thumb into your mouth like it’s nothing — he tastes nice, almost. Like he clearly drinks water, which is more than you could say for most men.

“Please, honey,” Steve begs, watching you with lust blown eyes as you smack your lips together, savouring him in your mouth, “Y’gonna let me fuck you? I'll be so gentle, promise.” 

You think it over — you don’t want him to be gentle. You want him to pin you down and make you take it, fill you up until he’s nestled in your fucking guts and spilling his load so deep you can almost taste it in the back of your throat. But you’re not stupid, you’re clearly not ready for that. Not yet.

He’s disheveled looking as he leans back on his mountain of pillows, lazily sat with you between his spread thighs. He lost all of his clothes long ago, and you’re only sitting in your underwear, the state you’re both in is a clear expectation that you were anticipating sitting on his cock and riding him til the cows came home. 

“Gentle or not, Harrington,” You start, maneuvering yourself so you can tuck your legs under his thighs, spreading yourself wide and showing off the obvious wet patch on your silky underwear, “M’gonna need to prepare for taking that monster.”

Steve's not even looking at you, fully focused on the way you’re sliding your panties to the side and exposing your needy cunt to the warm air in his room — you’re soaked, folds glistening under the light as you spread them with your fingers.

He makes a noise, large hand coming out to grip at the base of his cock and squeeze, relieving an ache — he’s barely covering half of his length, your gut churns at that knowledge —, “‘M I not gonna get to touch you at least?” He asks, jerking himself slowly as he watches you in an almost trance-like state, the tips of your middle and ring fingers dipping into your slick entrance and breaching.

It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you, of course you fucking do. but watching him touch himself over you touching yourself is making your tummy quiver, “Patience, baby.”

“Fuck, okay,” Steve’s lazy with it, jerking his cock at a slow pace as you finally sink your fingers into yourself, a quiet moan pulling from your chest as you do it. You can’t stop watching him touching himself, clearly going slow with it so that he doesn’t blow his load before he gets to fuck you.

You’re so close together that the back of your wrist is brushing Steve's heavy balls with every slick glide of your fingers in and out of your gushing pussy, and it’s eliciting the prettiest noises from him. a flush of heat washes over you, tummy muscles clenching when the pad of your middle finger just barely catches on that sweet sensitive spot inside. 

“Feel good?” Steve's voice is breathy, almost desperate as his eyes finally flitter up to yours, ripped away from the sight of your cunt pulsing and gushing around your fingers. He's squeezing the base of his cock again, in a desperate attempt to stop working himself up too quickly.

“It —,” You start, gasping when Steve adjusts his leg on top of yours and you’re suddenly hyper aware of his skin on yours, “My fingers are just a little short.” 

You don’t even need to ask, Steve's up on his knees and pushing into your space before you can even comprehend it. His cock merely brushes the inside of your thigh and you both moan, the head catching on your flushed skin and smearing wet in its wake. 

“Let me?” Steve's voice is barely above a whisper, hand coming up to brush his unruly hair out of his face. It’s hotter than you’d care to admit to, with his pretty pink lips hung open, watching you intently as you slip your fingers out of yourself fully, the sickening squelch making you both shudder.

You lean back on both hands, Steve's hovering so close over the top of you that his breath is hitting your face, fingers grazing up the inside of your thigh until he’s hitting your hot, wet folds. Two fingers swirl just barely over your clit, enough to punch a moan out of you, fingertips grappling on his comforter, before he’s sinking the same two fingers into your cunt, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, steve’s expert fingers crooking up into that spot you couldn’t quite catch and past it, rubbing at the spongyness until your hips are canting up. The leaky tip of his cock presses into the meat of your leg, a reminder it’s there, and it only makes you moan louder, hips rocking into Steve's hand.

“You’re so tight around my fingers, fuck,” Steve comments, watching between both of your bodies as your pussy swallows his fingers, clenching and fluttering on them — the slick slide is deafening in your ears, winding you up further.

His thumb swipes at your clit and it makes your eyes roll, the assault on your g-spot becoming almost too much, the heat in your tummy blooming quickly. 

“You gonna cum for me?” Steve's grinning, leaning his forehead on yours, fingers speeding up ever so slightly, pads running in circles until you’re panting and crying out, “Can feel you gripping me, honey. C’mon, let me feel you cum.” 

Your eyes squeeze tight as the blooming heat bursts into flames, a cry of his name leaving your lips as euphoria spreads through your entire body. You feel your cunt pulsing sporadically around Steve’s fingers, gushing wet and soaking the sheets as he fucks you through it, fingers slowing down until they’re almost at a stop. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming desire to have Steve fill you up with his cock is clouding your brain, blurring your eyes at the edges. You can feel him, hot and heavy, brushing so close to your cunt it’s dizzying, “Need you to fuck me, steve. please?”

Steve's brows pull together, he’d clearly forgotten about his own needs and desires in favor of yours and that only makes you want him all the more, “You sure, honey? You’re gonna be so sensitive, can you handle me?” 

His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but you moan, all high pitched and needy, “C’mon, Steve. Fuck me like you mean it.”

And who would Steve be to refuse you that? He gently nudges you down onto your back until you’re laid flat, pulling your shaking legs up until your knees are bent up.

You can feel the head of his cock snagging ever so slightly on your puffy cunt, still sopping wet and no doubt drenching him in your release. Your tummy quivers in anticipation.

He sighs, shaky, as he grips at the base of his cock blindly, unable to take his eyes off of yours, like he’s searching for a definite answer. You nod, another go ahead, and his cock properly presses at your entrance, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

He’s. Well, he’s fucking big. The first few inches slip into you and punch a ragged moan from you, eyes squeezing shut as you beg your body to relax for him.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice catches you off guard, his other hand grabbing for yours and lacing your fingers together at the side of your head, “If it doesn’t feel good, tell me to stop.”

“Don’t fucking stop,” You gasp, squeezing his hand. It’s not a bad burn, it feels fucking good. Teeters on the edge of too much, but the right edge. 

“Oh thank god,” Steve chuckles a little, pushing in another inch and your pussy clenches instinctively, choking his cock, “Honey, I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.” 

You giggle, the movement causing your cunt to flutter around him and he moans properly this time, rutting into you another inch or two, filling you out. 

Steve’s hand that was on his cock suddenly grips at your hip, as he bottoms out with a low growl, you feel it rumble up his chest, “You’re so — so fucking tight, warm,” Steve grits his teeth, pushing his hips forward to make it obvious that he’s fully sheathed in you, his heavy balls pressing tight to your ass.

You feel. Full. Ridiculously full. He’s hitting everywhere inside of you, the curve of his cock pressing into all the right spots, thatch of dark pubes brushing against your sensitive clit. 

His hand laced with yours grounds you, helps you relax and settle into it quickly, his chest flush to yours and pressing you down helps, too. 

Your eyelids flutter when he ruts into you again, reminding you of the size of him, “Move, Steve, need you to fuck me, yeah?” 

Steve grunts, pulling out just a few inches and pushing back in, eyes rolling as the wet heat of your cunt invites him back in, “Think your pussy likes me being here, honey.” 

You cry out at that, pussy spasming. You’re at a loss for words, the only thing on your mind is how Steve invades all of your senses. He leans down, kisses at the expanse of your neck as he sets a good rhythm. You feel every ridge of him, pushing so deep you swear you feel him in your guts.

“Hear that?” He mutters against your flushed, damp skin as he fucks you properly now, knocking the breath from you with every harsh thrust, “She loves me, baby. Loves my big cock, fuck.” 

Of course you can fucking hear it, the way your cunt is gushing, sloppy and soaking for him, more and more leaking around his shaft as he assaults your frontal wall. You whine, loud and beggy, fingernails digging into Steve’s hand where they’re still interlaced at the side of your head.

“Taking me so good, honey. Can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” Steve groans, pace quickening as he chases his high — you’re not far behind, the constant press to your spongey spot and the occasional catch of your clit against his pubic bone is getting you there fast.

It’s so fucking hot, the way he speaks to you. Your body is alight with need and want, “Keep talking, Steve. G’nna cum,” You breathe, leg tightening around the base of his back, heel of your foot pushing into his ass.

“Yeah?” Steve grins into your collarbone, you feel it against your flushed skin, “Cumming when you’re full on my big cock? Fuck, c’mon, show me how much she loves me. She’s so greedy, honey.”

Your cunt grips him like a vice, that same blooming feeling from earlier back with a vengeance as you reach the end — it’s so hard to think, with him pressing so deep and rough. You nod, whining and crying out, “Fuckfuckfuck, ohmygod —!” 

Your vision blurs at the edges, knocked dizzy and sick with it when your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, fingertips digging into the back of Steve’s hand until he’s hissing and groaning, fucking you through it with a harsh snap of his hips.

“That’s it, so fucking tight,” Steve grunts, picking up speed and rutting into you until you’re practically screaming, “Gonna cum in you, fill you up with it, oh fuck —”

His hips still suddenly as he pushes his face into your neck and cums with a low grunt of your name. You feel every bit of his release shooting deep inside you, every pulse of his cock. Your walls flutter around him and he hisses in retaliation, smacking your hip gently. 

He collapses on top of you after that, entire body spent. You can’t find it in you to care, as his cock softens slowly — you feel his cum spilling out of you, though you’re half asleep and struggling to comprehend it.

Your attention only piques when you feel fingertips at your puffy, used entrance, pushing the liquid back into your weeping hole.

It’s disturbing how ready you are for Steve, when he fucks himself back into you not long after.

[yunirgo]

contains: fat cock steve harrington; reader with a vagina; very slight mentions of pain bc steve is hung; not proofread 💔

“shit,” steve breathes. it’s a little bit like a laugh, incredulous. “you hear that?”

you sure do. the lewd sucking of your cunt taking his thick cock. you’re so tight on him, wrapping him in a vice grip, that the noise continues when he draws his cock out of you.

“feels so good,” he continues, looking down at you with dazed eyes. “i’ve never felt something so tight before.”

you blush, stomach flipping. you’ve never felt something so big before. you knew steve was big, but god. he’s only pushing halfway into you and you feel like he can’t possibly go any further.

the head of his cock, warm and soft and wet, glides through your folds. kisses your clit before moving back down to your entrance. steve pushes in nice and slow, eyes rolling back and a rough groan following it. it’s obscene. the way you’re stretched around him. he knows it has to hurt, but you’re being so good, not complaining. just staring up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, perked nipples and red lips.

“oh god,” he pants, seated halfway within you again. “flutter round my cock, baby.”

you clench your walls, which is so easy to do with the way he’s looking at you. he grunts again and presses his forehead against yours when he slowly moves back out, that wet noise filling the room again. “love this little pussy, baby, she’s so fuckin’ greedy.”

he pushes in again. each time feels like the first, a dull ache and burn, a stretch unlike anything you’ve felt before. you whimper, “steve,” and he nods his head in understanding. this time, he pushes in a little further - further than you thought possible - and the tip of his cock hits a spot inside of you that makes you keen and cry out.

“there?” he chokes out, hips pulling away slightly just to push back and hit it again. “oh, yeah, baby, right there. that feel good?”

steve’s fingers reach for your clit, a welcome relief - he rubs you in tight, slow circles. the pressure of his cock adds to your pleasure, and he pushes in and out again, right up against your sweet spot.

“steve - oh my fucking god -“

“so pretty taking me like this, y’know? fuck, baby, i can’t stand it. wanna fuck you so deep, peach - we’ll get there, don’t cry about it - mmm, gonna have you feelin’ me in your tummy - shit… shit… shit… be patient, angel, gonna get you there.”

[yunirgo]

YOUR HONOR, I’M IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN

via paulinaaa_99 on insta