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astermath · 19 days

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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#tysm for the ask!#stevemath #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington writing #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington comfort #serpentwithatardis #aster replies

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manwrre · 7 months

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i desperately need some rancher or cowboy!billy in my life. i’m talking tall and buff and sososo golden; from the sun-toned ringlets of his hair, to the scars and stretch marks across his arms and hips. i want him slaving on the ranch all day in the heat until he’s freckled just about everywhere.

i want him burning— smoldering eyes and this lopsided grin that promises nothing but white-hot pleasure. and he’s known for wearing his trademark, black leather pants with flaming red stars on the ass because he knows that he’s got it. he knows that they accentuate his thighs and grip his backside just right and drive at least half of the backward town’s population absolutely wild.

he’s also the perfect mixture of foul mouthed and dripping with sugary sweet charm. i mean, on average, he’s just so quick-tongued and crude and cusses just about anyone to tears. but when he really wants it, he drops his voice into this honeyed, little southern drawl and calls everyone ‘sugar’ and ‘doll’. he’s been talking guys and girls outta their drawers for as long as he’s been apart of this rodeo.

and he’s got a temper that he’s inherited from his sonofabitch daddy but attracts everyone because he glitters like his mom’s creek-caught gold. he’s daring too, of course, so he bull rides and sharpshoots and is always up for a bar fight.

i can imagine him and city boy!steve meeting for the first time. like, billy’s all

“lookin’ a lil lost ‘ere, sweetheart. town’s about two miles back that way.” he nods off in the direction that steve’s come from, steadying his horse.

and steve just frowns at his mocking tone, squinting up at him in the summer heat.

“i’m not lost— i’m just looking for the head rancher. have you seen him?”

“whaddaya need him for? ‘stole your girl or somethin’ because we settle that out on the street, not at a man’s job.”

and it honest to god feels like steve’s being toyed with; like billy’s making fun of him. he’s got this pinched look going for him and embarrassment makes him snap,

“you know what, it’s actually none of your business so if you could just point me in his direction, i’ll be outta your hands and on my way.”

and billy’s amusement spreads across his entire face this time; his smile shattering his cheeks, like cracks on a sidewalk. he’s all,

“except, that’s where you’re wrong, doll. you want the ranch hand, well you’ve got his undivided attention,” with this shit-eating grin and yk, just titters.

as you can imagine, steve gapes and catches himself and billy thinks both, “wow, this guy’s an ass” and “he’s cute, in a baby calf kinda way” and unbeknownst to each other, that’s the start of ‘em.

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dr0wning-in-hell · 7 months

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First Times a Charm- Steve Harrington

Summary: Y/N and Steve had been together for quite some time now, their one year anniversary coming up soon on their calendars. The ++farthest they’ve gone is a heated make-out session, but today Y/N wants to take this farther.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, virign!reader, penetrative sex, teasing, fingering, oral, maybe a slight innocent!reader?, handjobs,

Pairing/Characters: Virigin!Reader x Steve Harrington

Prompt: kinktober prompt list #1- First Time

A/N: this was literally supposed to be written and published last kinktober but it never happened lmao, so enjoy it now.

new masterlist| prompt list| buy me a ko-fi :)

Was this really a good idea? You only lose your virginity once, shouldn’t she be more worried about it than she is? Maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through her veins, but either way it’s too late to turn back now.

Y/N had gotten dressed up in a cute little outfit she had planning all day. She pulled at the bottom of the skirt as she rang Steve’s doorbell, anxiously awaiting him to answer the door. Just as she was about to turn and bolt back to her car, Steve emerged on the other side with a smile gracing his face.

“Hey, glad you could come over tonight.” Steve said as he stepped to the side to let his girlfriend in. His eyes wondered her body, taking in every inch of what he could see. He wouldn’t admit it to a single soul, but he dreamed of what his girlfriend looked like underneath all her cute outfits. What color her matching panties and bra were, if she had any hidden tattoos or piercings, the thoughts were truly endless.

Y/N walked in sheepishly, blushing as she walked past him and into the entry way to take off her shoes. Even though she had been over to his place thousands of times it still racked her nerves every time she stepped through the doorway. The couple walked to the lounging room where the TV was set up with one of the newer movies that just came into Family Video. He had her favorite snacks and drinks splayed out on the table, it was perfect- and innocent. Steve was clueless too the things that Y/N had planned for the night and she was just hoping that he’d want to go through with them.

“Are you okay, babe? You seem even more nervous than usual.” Steve pointed out as he sat down on the couch and pulled her down next to him. She nodded slowly which didn’t at all convince Steve that she was okay, but he didn’t want to push it too much.

Y/N adjusted herself on the couch and leaned into Steve’s side, trying to calm her breathing down a little bit. She was extremely nervous, she had no idea how she was going to start everything, but it had to start eventually. Steve started the movie and the two began to relax as the starting credits rolled on.

It was fine in the beginning, the two were cuddling, making comments about the movie, but then came the unannounced sex scene. Y/N felt her boyfriend shift a little next to her, causing her to catch his eyes in an awkward glance. He cleared his throat and looked back to the screen in hopes of lightening the sexual tension, but to no avail. Y/N was still staring at him, her eyes just barely glancing at the screen to see the way the man was ravishing his lover’s body.

She wanted that.

No. She needed that.

Steve turned his head as he felt her eyes burning into the side of his face. When he went to ask her what was wrong, he was cut off by Y/N connecting their lips in a very needy kiss. Steve wasn’t complaining, though he was caught off guard, he liked seeing his girlfriend like this. As he pressed himself back against her lips, Y/N took the opportunity to move herself onto his lap, her legs on either side of his own. Ever so carefully did she lower her ass against her crotch, immediately feeling his growing bulge in his pants.

There was a small grunt against her lips, the sound coming from the boy underneath her. She pulled away, worried she did something wrong. “Are you okay?” She asked softly, slightly panting as she tried to regain her breathe.

Steve nodded a bit, his hands falling to her hips, the pads of his fingers feeling a bit of the soft flesh that was exposed under her shirt. “Mhm,” he hummed, smiling a bit, “I just- what’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining, I’m just curious.”

Y/N couldn’t help but blush as she glanced down to try and ignore his gaze. “I- uhm, I just- I think I’m ready to have sex now.” She stuttered out the sentence in bits and pieces but eventually got the words out of her mouth. She watched Steve’s eyes widen a bit as she said this.

“Are you sure? You’re positive?” He sat up a bit now, his bulge now pressed firmly against her clothed cunt. Holding back a small moan, she nodded her head. Steve wasted no time in moving her off of him and dragging her upstairs to his room. Once he had her pulled into the room and the door was shut he had her pinned against the wood, his lips crashing back down onto her plump lips.

The kiss was heated and passionate, both of them putting all their emotions into it. In the midst of the kiss Y/N reached down and pulled off Steve’s shirt, her fingers grazing the now exposed skin. Steve’s skin rippled under her touch, a small groan escaping his lips as he felt the small touches. After a moment of catching their breathe, Y/N reached down and began to pull her own shirt off and tossed it along side her boyfriend’s.

Steve’s eyes were directly glued to her chest as he watched her breasts move with every breathe she took. Y/N wanted to shy away out of instinct but Steve held her hands in his, pulling her ever so close so that their chests were touching.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled, his forehead pressed against hers as he started to move them back towards the bed. As they moved he took this time to skillfully remove her bra, one hand hooking around her back to pull the clasps apart and discard of the piece. When he looked down at her chest once more he was surprised to see a tattoo in the middle of her chest, sitting perfectly between her tits. He reached up silently as he dragged a finger across the piece of art, his eyes never leaving the sight in front of him. “This is hot as fuck, when did you get this done?” He looked up at his girlfriend, only to see her looking away bashfully.

“I- um, remember my friend Joe? She said it’d look hot and that you’d like because her boyfriend loves hers, so she did my tattoo at her studio.” Y/N babbled about the tattoo out of nervousness, but once she finally looked up and locked eyes with Steve, all that nervous tension in her body seemed to fly away.

Steve only hummed as he began leaving a trail of kisses from her neck, down her naval, then her stomach, and along her hips until he was eye level with where she was wanting to feel him the most. Her breathe had picked up a bit, her teeth digging into her lip as she awaited his next move. “May I?” Y/N’s head moved faster than her mouth as her let out a squeak of a ‘yes’ and watched her boyfriend gently pull down her skirt, now leaving her only in her panties.

Y/N was wearing a light pink, laced panty that hugged her perfectly that had Steve palming himself over his pants that he hadn’t even thought about taking off yet. Steve stood up abruptly and began to shake his pants off in a rush, nearly tripping over his own feet as he kicked the jeans to the side. Y/N laughed softly at her boyfriends actions, but was quickly interrupted as he laid her back onto the bed, her hips and below laying off the bed.

“Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” He went back down to her aching cunt and watched as a damp spot appeared before his eyes. He chuckled as he realized how turned on his lover was, and he couldn’t wait to see what else he could pull out of her. “Gotta prep you first, okay? Don’t want you to hurt.” Y/N nodded and watched as he moved his thumb over her covered clit, pressing down lightly on it at first to see what reaction he’d get out of her.

Y/N’s body jolted forward, hips involuntarily bucking upwards at the sensation Steve had just created. He smirked, clearly pleased with what just happened. He continued rubbing small circled against her clit, pressing down harshly every once in a while. Y/N let out a small whimper, eyes squeezing shut at this new feeling.

“Never been touched like this, have you?” Steve asked curiously. Y/N nodded, her eyes never meeting his. “Use your words baby, can’t have you just nodding all night long, I wanna hear your pretty voice.”

“I- I’ve never been touched like this before.” She choked out, embarrassment flooding her body.

“Not even on your own?” Steve wondered aloud as he watched the damp spot on the front of her panties grow.

Shaking her head she huffed out, “No, never. Didn’t know what I was doing.” Hearing her say these words out loud just made her cheeks flush.

Steve smirked up at his girlfriend as he slowly dragged her adorable pink panties down her legs. “Guess I’ll have to teach you then, won’t I?” Steve didn’t wait for an answer, he just dove right into the drenched cunt in front of him. Y/N let out a loud gasp, her hands flying to tangle themselves in Steve’s curls. Now this was a whole new sensation, one she was surprised to be enjoying. When Y/N looked down to watch Steve run his tongue along her slit and then latch itself onto her swollen clit, she was not expecting to be locking eyes with him and never letting go.

His tongue moved softly yet quickly against her pussy, her juices flowing down his chin as he tried to bury himself deeper into her core. He watched with amusement as Y/N began to lose herself in the pleasure, letting him do whatever he pleased to her aching cunt. Thinking that she had enough teasing, the boy moved his index finger to the opening of his girlfriends sopping hole, watching as it opened and closed around absolutely nothing. Ever so slowly did he begin to push his index fingers past her velvety walls, relishing in the feeling of her just sucking him in so easily. It made his mind wonder to what she was going to feel like around his cock.

Y/N whined, her hips rotating on their own as she tried to gain any sort of friction. “Stevie, please,” Her voice was soft as she panted for him, “ I need more.” Hearing her beg for him to continue was enough for him to begin pumping his index finger steadily into her pussy. the squelching noises only becoming louder as she grew even more wet. After a few minutes of getting her used to one finger, Steve added his middle finger to the mix and began to curl his fingers against her sweet spot with every thrust.

“Fuck,” The whimper left her lips so softly yet it sounded so lewd, so sinful. “Feels- feels so good, Stevie.” Y/N’s eyes were glossed over, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out any second. Her walls clamped down around Steve’s fingers as he tried to retract them, chuckling at how her greedy cunt just kept sucking him back in. “I feel... weird.” Y/N said warningly.

Steve looked up at his girl and instantly knew what she meant. She must’ve been super inexperienced or just down right unknowledgeable on all of this. “It’s okay baby, that just means you’re gonna cum soon. Don’t hold back, just let it happen.” Steve encouraged her as he continue on with his actions, making sure to really press against that soft, spongey spot inside her to get her to orgasm even faster.

Y/N couldn’t hold back the scream of pleasure that came out of her as she came, her legs clamping around Steve’s hand and successfully keeping him there as she ground down on his digits, riding out her high on her own terms. She whimpered as the feeling came to an end, her hips spasming just a bit as she slowly relaxed back into the bed.

Steve was in awe of what just happened. He just gave his girlfriend her first orgasm, probably ever. He did that to her, and it was a sight only he will ever get to witness. As he carefully pulled his fingers from her sore hole, his mouth fell agape as he looked at just how much cum came out of her. It’s more than he had ever seen any girl release as it totally coated his fingers.

“Fuck, baby.” He looked up at the girl in front of him, a smile of pride gliding across his face. “You came so much just from my fingers alone, I can’t wait to see how you cum around my cock.” Steve raised his cum coated fingers to his lips and stuck them in his mouth, sucking them clean of her juices and then pulling them away with a lewd ‘popping’ sound.

As Steve stood up from the ground, Y/N could see his bulge through his boxer briefs. She sat up, reaching forward without saying a word and pulling the material down his legs. Steve was sweating as he watched Y/N eye his length, taking in every inch of him before she wrapped her hands around him and began pumping his cock slowly. Steve let out a gasp, his knees threating to buckle out from underneath him. Y/N kept eye contact with him the whole time, never letting either one of them break away from each other.

“Not gonna last long if you keep that up, princess.” Princess. The pet name made Y/N tug a little harsher on accident. Steve hissed in pleasure, one of his hands coming down to grab her wrist to try and stop her movements. Instead of stopping she only continued, moving her hands faster and squeezing a little hard every few pumps. “Fuck- gonna cum, princess stop.” Without question she stopped, pulling her hands back into her lap with a wicked grin on her face.

“Just wanted to return the favor.” Her voice was teasing, like she wanted to push the limits. Steve only chuckled as he moved her to the middle of the bed and placed himself between her legs.

“Trust me, you can return the favor later. Right now is all about you.” He reached behind her head to grab a pillow and positioned it under her hips to make her more comfortable. “You’re sure you still want to go through with this?” He was worried she was doing this for him, not for herself. He wanted this to be the perfect first experience for her.

“Steve, I love you and want to do this.” She said reassuringly, “Now are you going to fuck me or not?” Steve chuckled at his girlfriend’s eagerness and nodded, getting the perfect position as he lined himself up at her entrance. He reached down and intertwined their fingers, giving her a gentle squeeze before he began to push into her cunt.

Y/N let out a gasp at the intrusion. She knew this wasn’t going to be any easy push and would take a moment to get used to, but right now she had to remind herself to relax or else this was not going to go over well. She took in a few deep breathes as she waited for her body to adjust to Steve’s size, his length and girth made her feel like she was being ripped in two. Thankfully Steve knew this wasn’t going to be easy, so he paused and held his place while he waited for the go ahead from his girlfriend.

After a moment of adjusting she nodded and told him to go, that she was fine and could handle it. Steve’s thrusts started out slow and steady, not wanting to push all the way in just yet in case he hurt her. He watched her facial expressions closely, his chest filling with a sort of pride as he her eyes rolled back in pleasure and eyebrows scrunched together every time he hit a sensitive spot inside her.

“Want- want you to go deeper, please.” Y/N begged softly, her hands squeezing Steve’s as she rocked her body back and forth, try to feel even more of him.

Steve gave her a warry look, “You sure?” Was all he asked before Y/N was nodding her head furiously and she felt him pressing himself all the way inside her tight walls. The pressure of him sitting in her lower belly had her moaning louder than before, her chest heaving as she clamped down onto his cock. “Gotta stop clenching around me, baby, wanna make this last for you.”

Y/N could only let out a whimper as she slipped one of her hands down her belly and rested it right on top of where she could feel Steve. He was deep inside her, nestled right under her belly. Steve smirked as he followed her hand and gently pressed down, causing her to squirm under him. “Is this how deep I am, princess? Can you feel me all the way up here?” YN nodded slowly, trying not to lose her own self-control and move as she pleased. Steve pressed down gently, sending electric shocks throughout Y/N’s body.

“Please, Stevie, please move.” Steve did as asked and began moving again, this time thrusting his hips faster and angling himself upwards by raising Y/N’s own hips with his hands. Y/N began to feel the coil in her stomach again, but this time it seemed more intense, almost like she was gonna piss herself. Her moans grew louder as she began to near her second climax of the night, her body tightening up on her as a response.

Steve was getting close as well, with the way Y/N kept clamping down on his cock and somehow sucking him even further into her cunt, he wasn’t going to last much longer. He tried to keep up the pace so that Y/N could cum before him, so to try and help her along he pressed one of his thumbs against her clit and rubbed it in tight figure eights. The overstimulation to her clit had Y/N cumming in seconds without any warning.

That pissing feeling? That was her orgasm alright, her cunt squirting out her pretty juices and covering Steve’s lower half in her slick. Her moans sounded pornographic, something straight out of an adult movie he’d watch by himself. She tried to catch her breathe, her chest heaving as her brain tried to come up with some sort of idea of what she just did.

Watching his girlfriend unravel for the second time tonight had Steve cumming in her cunt, their juices mixing together as he painted her insides white. Steve pulled out halfway and pumped the rest of his cum onto her stomach and chest, marveling at the sight of her painted in his cum.

The two sat in a comfortable silence as they regained their composure, smiling to each other once they were able to pull themselves together. Steve leaned down to her forehead and placed a gentle kiss to the skin before getting up to get a clean rag from the bathroom. When he came back to the room he was still grinning from ear to ear.

“You did so good for me princess, even squirted for me.” He hummed happily. “I’m gonna have to get you to do that every time now.”

Y/N chuckled and watched as he cleaned her up with the rag, making sure to be even more careful around her sore pussy. “Is that what I did? I thought I was gonna pee.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he finished cleaning her up, “Oh baby, I have so much to teach you, don’t I?”

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incandescentswiftie · 1 year

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okay but imagine just kissing steve harrington. like it’s not leading to anything sexual, just you two enjoying being with each other. soft, gentle kisses turn into deep, passionate kisses as he slides his tongue in your mouth. steve is the make out master so you know he knows how to get you flustered with just his mouth on yours. I imagine Steve likes a sloppy make out session every once and a while. Just his tongue and yours languidly rolling over each other without your lips even touching. maybe he even sucks on your tongue depending on his mood. Kissing is one of Steve’s favorite activities and you can be damn sure he’s gonna show you a good time

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington writing #steve harrington smut #joe keery #djo #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #my writing

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justice4billiam · 7 months

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Later

Sad Boy Steve Harrington

Word count: 682

AN: I woke up from a dead sleep just to write this little thang. I don’t know why but I had to. haha Sad girl feels (or in this case sad boy Harrington feels)

There were never “right now” moments in the Harrington household.

Steve was always living for... later, he supposed.

Always the "afters" and never the here, right now, In the present.

From the time he could remember, it was “not right now, Steven” and “maybe another time” and the worst one of all, “Later.”

That was another thing about the Harringtons.

Laters never came.

His earliest memories from his childhood were when he was just 3 years old.

“Why don’t you go play? Dinner should be done soon.” His nanny, Ellis, guided him off to his room while she wandered back into the kitchen.

He was in the middle of picking out his favorite book to look at when he heard his father's voice from his office. He didn’t even know they had come home.

Little Steve's eyes were the size of saucers as his head suddenly snapped up. He even remembers the slight jaw ache that resulted from how wide his smile had been.

He recalled how thrilled he was. How happy he was at that age when his parents finally arrived home.

He ran as fast as his tiny feet could go and practically barreled through the large double doors.

“Daddy?!” Little Steve exclaimed, hopping in place with excitement.

His father was standing over his desk; one hand was holding a phone close to his ear, and the other was tucked into the pocket of one of his incredibly expensive suits that he always wore.

Steve scampered up to him, latching himself around the older man's leg. “Daddy! I missed-” Before he could even finish that thought, he was forcefully yanked from his hold and shoved.

He had slammed into the cold, solid wood floors, his tiny body in shambles at his father's feet.

It felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he looked up to meet the man's furious gaze. As he looked at Steve, his dad held his hand over the phone's microphone piece.

"Not right now, boy! How many times must I repeat myself? You are not welcome in here! Go look for your mother." He brushed him off coldly, turning his back on him.

How easily he did that.

Tossed him aside like it was nothing, like he was nothing.

He had sniffled as quietly as he could so as not to irritate his father more. “Sorry, daddy...” He whispered before standing from the floor and dejectedly walking out.

He was passing his parents' bedroom when he heard her. He was young but he knew what it sounded like when someone was crying.

That was another one of many firsts for him.

He poked his head in and found his mother on the floor, her head in her hands, resting against the side of the bed.

Even now, Steve still thinks about that first moment from time to time: how heavy it weighs on his heart; no boy likes to see his mom cry.

“Mommy?” His timid voice rang out as he braved his way into the room and reached out to touch her.

She looked up, watery eyes falling on him. “Oh, Steven! Leave Mommy alone.” She snapped at him, quickly smacking his hand away and wiping at the tears falling onto her cheeks.

He drew his hand to his chest, as if burned. That was what really did it. Big, fat tears started to fall from his eyes as he cradled his hand.

His mother looked at him, guilt written in her expression. “Oh, baby...” He remembered hearing her say as she pulled him into her embrace. His body held tightly to her lap as their tears flowed.

"I'm truly sorry, baby." After a while, she whispered.

She grabbed his face and turned him to face her. "I'm just so upset..." She begins but shaking her head before meeting his gaze again.

"Why don't you be a big boy and go downstairs for dinner, and I'll tuck you in and read to you later? How does that sound? " She asked him, a smile on her lips.

A smile that never reached her eyes.

Later.

Yeah, later never came.

#steve harrington #sad boy #all the feels #parents suck #steve harrington one shot #steve stranger things #steve harrington writing #steve harrington imagine

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starcourtcass · 1 year

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honestly just blame tiktok for this one. it's basically straight up copy paste of the stranger things script with angst in the end. but hey i finally posted something<3

wc: 1.2k warning: angst, major character death, no beta we die like jason carver<3

Steve didn’t know how many punches he’d taken at this point. All he knew is that his entire face and chest hurt. He could feel the blood dripping down his face, over his lips to his chin to then drip down on the gray floor. How his wrists ache from the restraints keeping his hands behind his back. He feels the fist of the Russian officer hit his left cheek once again.

“That one stung.” he groans before gasping for air. Feeling the raspy air hit his lungs, his ribcage burning in pain from the forming bruises. It honestly wouldn’t surprise him if his ribs are broken or at least fractured at this point.

“Who do you work for?” Commander Ozerov speaks with a tone that oozes of authority.

“For the millionth time, I work for Scoops Ahoy!” Steve pleads out, his voice raspy and breathy. “Scoops Ahoy..” he repeats. The commander signals the guard, making him punch Steve's gut.

What is he supposed to say to make the commander believe him? God if he just knew that this is what that stupid russian code was gonna lead to..

“What the hell?!” he groans in pain, just wanting this to end. “Look at my outfit! You think I just wear this?! Think I’m a spy in a sailor’s uniform?”

Steve is begging at this point. Sure, his life practically sucked but being beaten to death in a secret Russian underground base? He couldn’t leave Dustin or hell even Robin at this point.

Another punch lands yet again on his gut and it still feels like the air is being punched out of his lungs. Steve leans his body forward, hoping that something, someone will come to his rescue. It doesn’t even cross his mind what’s happening to Robin right now. If she is also being tortured like this or what they are doing to extract the “real” story. Not that you can blame him.

“How did you get in?” Ozerov asks yet again. And god Steve wants to punch him to make him suffer.

“I already told you, I told you before” Steve breathily says before gasping for air. He sits up straight again, proceeding to tell the somewhat true story to Ozerov. That they didn’t get a delivery, went into the room and it became an elevator and so on and so forth. Again, it was somewhat of the truth. They didn’t know it was an elevator to be fair.

“But I swear to god, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You could just let us go, alright? And.. I’m not gonna tell anybody about this, okay? Shit happens, life goes on.” he calmly requests, hoping that they actually would.

Steve knew it was a long shot, but he kept on rambling. Trying to save not only himself but Robin from the impending fate that they or at the very least he will die today. He makes a deal that they can have any ice cream from Scoops Ahoy, that they gotta try their “USS Butterscotch”.

Commander Ozerov looks at him with his usual stern look before he suddenly laughs loudly, the soldier next to him joining. Steve couldn’t be more confused. He starts to laugh along with them, albeit very nervously ‘cause what the actual fuck is happening?

“I like this guy! USS Butterscotch” the commander chuckles before leaning forward, his hands on his knees, laughs quieting down and stopping.

“Who. Do you. Work. For.” Ozerovs stern look is harsh and staring right into Steve’s soul.

“Oh, come on. No, no! No, seriously–” Steve whines and begs before everything turns black as the soldier punches his jaw.

Robin screams and thrashes around as the Russian guards take her from her room to the next. They throw her on the ground next to Steve making her yelp and grunt as her body hits the floor. She notices Steve next to her, immediately calling for him.

“Hey..Steve. Steve?” She moves to sit on her knees nudging Steve, continuing to shake him and say his name. The commander walks into the room making her look up at him.

“What did you do to him? What did you do?!” She yells, scared for her friend. The commander quickly shuts her up by slapping her cheek with the back of his hand.

She hears them say something in Russian before grabbing her yet again making her trash around yet again. They grab Steve as well and put them on chairs, tying them together. Robin keeps talking to Steve, hoping her screams for his name will wake him up. The commander grabs Steve by his hair lifting his head up.

“Don’t touch him.” Robin hiss as she turns her head.

Ozerov clicks his tongue looking at Steve before releasing his grip on his hair. He walks slowly away to face Robin. She could just feel her blood boiling, angry at this man in front of her now. Not listening and angry because what the fuck did they do Steve? Sure, she practically hated his guts like four months ago. But now? He’s her best friend, whether she would admit it or not.

“I think your friend need a doctor. Good thing…We have the very best.” Ozerov speaks before laughing, the officers in the room joining in. Robin cuts this short by aggressively spitting him in the face. He however, wipes the spit off with his napkin. She looks at him triumphantly, almost as if to mock him.

“You are going to regret that, сука.” He threatens before leaving the room.

She screams for them to let them go, let them out. They just ignore her, closing the door. Alone, trapped and bound with Steve. Steve, unbeknownst to Robin, is barely breathing. As she yells for help until her lungs almost give up, unconscious and on the cusp of life Steve sits tied up to the chair and her.

And soon that cusp is no cusp. Soon, before the Russians make it back, as Robin pleads for them to be released, Steve takes his last breath. But just like the people say, his life flashed before his eyes.

He saw Dustin and him walking on the train track dropping meat here and there. He saw Nancy, the first time they made love. He saw when he fought Billy, defending the kids. He saw Robin. He saw her smile and her stupid board. He saw Dustin again, when he was sitting in his car, all done up for the Snow Ball dance.

He didn’t want this day to be his last. He didn’t want to be beaten to death in a secret Russian underground base. But he did do it for the kids. It could’ve been Dustin in his place. He could never forgive himself if his blood was on his hands.

So even though he didn’t wanna go like this, he is okay with the fact that Dustin is okay. Who hopefully will come and rescue Robin soon. It would be too late for him but he hopes it’s not for Robin. He doesn’t know the fact that Robin is with him for his last breaths. But if he did? He would be happy, happy to be next to the girl he loved.

props to you if you read all that, now tag for moots who i'm basically forcing to read the stranger things script.

@corrodedcorpses @wndalovebot @moonchildquinn @ceriseheaven @bimbobaggins69 @lokis-army-77 @loveshotzz @usedtobecooler @andvys

i had to like retag? this whole read more stuff is fucking shit up so i removed it, ok lmao ignore.

#steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington writing #my work #my writing #robin buckley #robin buckley fic #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley writing #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #i made this :)

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astartothemoon · 2 years

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borrowed and blue // Fall

Summary: Steve, having enough of his father's constant disapproval, needs to move out of his parents’ house. Reader is back in town after having inherited the old record store on main street, only she has no place to stay. Eddie, being friends with both, brings the two together and offers a solution. Though neither of them can afford a place by themselves, together they make enough to rent a little house at the edge of Hawkins. Follow the two as the navigate life together and deal with the feelings that arise eventually.

A love story told in 4 seasons.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female Reader

Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Slight mention of intimate situations.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

FALL // AUTUMN

Fall has slowly but surely taken up residency in Hawkins. Half the leaves have turned shades of orange and red while the rest have started deserting the trees and now crunch under your boot with every step you take.

Steve’s woolen sweater does little to keep the cold out but he’d quite honestly rather freeze to death out here leaning against the backdoor of Family Video than be warm and toasty at home.

“ You’re no fun today, dingus. What’s got you looking all gloomy? “ Robin asks before stuffing her face with another bite of her turkey sandwich.

“ Honestly Harrington. You’re a real downer. “ Eddie agrees, cigarette smoke flowing like a veil around his head.

“ Way to gang up on me guys. And anyway, why are you even here? You don’t work here.”

Eddie unabashedly shrugs his shoulders. Really it shouldn’t come as a surprise to Steve. Eddie has somehow made himself a permanent 3rd party in their chaotic friendship after the events of last spring. Wherever Robin and Steve go, Eddie goes. And while he drives him crazy sometimes with his inability to stay still for even a minute and his big mouth, Steve has to admit that he enjoys having another person around.

“ Maybe I want to rent a movie.”

“ You never rent a movie! You just make us bring them around so you don’t have to pay.”

“ He’s got a point there,” Robin admits, snapping her mouth shut when Eddie throws her a sour look.

“ It’s called being smart, Harrington. You should look it up. Anyway, back to you. Why the long face? You know those frowns are gonna leave wrinkles and your face is the best thing you got going for you. No offense.”

“ I take full offense in that actually. “

He doesn’t. It’s the foundation of their friendship — teasing. It comes with the situation. Befriending someone from high school you never thought you could ever have anything in common with is weird. Not a bad weird, but weird either way.

“ Cut the crap. What’s wrong, Steve? “

Robin isn’t serious a lot. Steve thinks he might be able to count the times on one hand. But when she is, it’s a little terrifying. It makes you want to open up to her just so you don’t let her down. There’s a motherly quality in Robin being serious. Steve isn’t sure he likes it.

“ My dad had a go at me again. You know, the usual. “ You amount to nothing. You’re a disappointment. You put shame on the Harrington name””.

“ I’m sorry, dingus. “

“ I just — I can’t deal with it anymore. I need to get out of that house. Every time I look at my dad I see disappointment in his eyes and every time I look at mom I see — nothing. It’s like she doesn’t really care at all. I’m sick of it. “

“ What happened to that place you went to check out the other day? “

Steve lets out a humorless chuckle “ That was perfect and way too expensive for just me. And anyway, what do I need two bedrooms for anyway? Now if one of youuu guys — “

“ Nope. I love living with my parents. They drive me everywhere, they wash my clothes. You know I would but I’m also not stupid. I'm not leaving the nest when it’s soooo comfortable. And I’ll be off to college soon anyway so — “

It sends a shiver through him, the thought of Robin leaving. Robin and Nancy and all of his old friends. Everyone makes their way out of Hawkins at some point, hell even the kids will leave someday in the not-so-distant future. There is nothing here for them. Everyone leaves but him. Well, he and —

“Eddie?”

No answer. Instead, Eddie seems caught in his own thoughts once again. It happens sometimes. He’s probably planning another d&d campaign or something like that, things Steve knows absolutely nothing about. Sometimes it’s endearing, sometimes it’s aggravating.

“Munson? “

“ Huh? What was that? “

“ You wanna move in with me? “

“ Oh absolutely not, we’d end up killing each other. But I might have an idea.”

A smirk spreads on Eddie’s lips that leave Steve feeling a bit uneasy. It’s not that Eddie has bad ideas or that they come from a bad place, he just tends to go over the top a lot of times.

“I hate the way that sounds, do you hate the way that sounds? “ Steve asks, turning to Robin who only shrugs her shoulders in reply.

“You’re gonna thank me later, Harrington. Trust me.”

Dropping his cigarette, Eddie walks past his friends, tussling Steve’s hair in the process, and leaves without as much as a goodbye.

“ Sooo, that’s a completely normal reaction and not totally weird or anything.”

“ Steve, it’s Eddie. What do you expect? But hey, maybe he’ll surprise us and actually has a good idea on how to get you out of your predicament.“

Yeah, maybe. Only it’s way past the time that believing in a maybe filled Steve with any sort of hope.

Maybe stopped sounding like a possibility a while ago.

Maybe is a pipe dream.

Maybe is disappointment wrapped in a neat pretty bow.

"Yeah, maybe.”

“Steve Harrington?”

“ Mmmh.”

“ Pretty boy Harrington?”

“ The very same.”

For the first time since he brought it up (Y/N) lifts her eyes away from the boxes of vinyl records and properly looks at Eddie.

The record store has that certain kind of boxed-in smell. Like dust and leather. Like old books and cardboard. Like home. And it’s hers now. All hers. With all the good and bad.

And there’s no record store without Eddie Munson.

“I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that you are friends with Steve and now you’re asking me to move in with him?”

“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m just offering a solution to a problem. Steve is — surprisingly kind of cool. He has a stable income, not much but stable. And he’s not nearly as messy as I am. You can take it or leave it. Just think sleeping in the backroom of the record store doesn’t sound super comfortable. “

He’s right. He usually is, (Y/N) just hates to let him know that. Boy gets awfully smug when he knows he’s right.

She’s not sure how many more nights she can go sleeping on the thin futon she keeps at the back office, without ruining her back for all eternity. It’s stuffy in here and nights get awfully cold. Maybe renting a place with Steve Harrington isn’t the worst of all scenarios. But it feels an awful lot like admitting defeat. “I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t you failing, this is you accepting help from a friend, okay? “

There’s a sense of sincerity in Eddie’s deep brown eyes that she will never quite get used to. Beneath the teasing and the jokes there’s a bond so thick it can never be broken. A thread woven by two trailer park kids who never had anything but each other.

“ I hate that you know me so well.”

“ I know. But hey, if it makes you feel better you can return the favor.”

A smirk threatens to pull at the corner of his lips. Barely there but there after all. He knows that whatever he’s asking for, she’ll say yes. He’s her friend, her brother by choice not by blood. There is no way she’ll ever say no.

“ Oh yeah? And what favor would that be?”

“ Give me a job. “

“ Huh? “

“With everything that happened I can’t — I can’t continue dealing. And though I am officially acquitted that doesn’t mean shit in this hellhole of a town. So you can imagine how ecstatic businesses are about hiring Eddie Munson, acquitted in the eyes of the law but still a killer to all of Hawkins.”

She hates the way his voice shakes when he speaks. Though he tries to veil his pain with jokes and laughter, it doesn’t really work. There’s fear and sadness lacing his words. There was always a hidden sadness in this boy but ever since the incident of last spring, of which she still hasn’t heard the entire story, it’s more prominent, less hidden.

“ You’ll always have a job here if you want it. I hope you know that.”

“ Oh, I know.”

“ And I’ll be giving you all the shitty shifts.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Aaand you’ll let me have band practice in the back? “

“ Of course.”

And when he smiles at her with the same smile of a 5-year-old Eddie, the one she ran through sprinklers with, the one whose ceiling she glued glow-in-the-dark stars to, she knows she did the right thing. And she’ll do it all over again for the rest of both their lives.

“Soooo I can tell Steve you’re in?”

“ You can tell Steve I’m willing to take a look at the place.”

An overgrown path flanked by elms and maple trees leads up to the property. It’s a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges, a few specks of green still trying to hold onto the last drops of summer. It feels like a dream, a watercolor painting of the perfect fall scenario. Picturesque. Beautiful.

The house is small but enough. It’s cute. It’s homey. There are two bedrooms, a small kitchen, an open area for living and dining, and a bathroom. The floor is brushed wood, the walls all painted a dusty off-white.

(Y/N) can see herself living here. She can almost smell the coffee rising from her mug as she lounges on the bench swing by the front porch. Can taste the lemonade and ice cream and beer she will hand out in summer as her friends hang out in the backyard. There’s a fireplace made for Christmas stockings and a hook on the front door to hang a floral wreath when springtime calls.

It’s easy to get lost in dreams of what could be. And then her eyes meet Steve across the way and she is being reminded of what is.

“ What do you think? “

I think it’s perfect.

I think I want to spend my whole life here.

I think I want to make this my home.

All those thoughts run through her head but none of them make it past her lips. She hardly knows this guy, there’s no way she’s gonna share all her heart's desires with him on a Tuesday morning when he hasn’t even had a coffee yet.

“ I think we’re gonna need a couch.”

She can almost see the gears turning and the lightbulb switching on as the words she spoke start registering in his mind. And then he smiles and she must admit, despite everything in her wanting to deny it, that Steve Harrington has a really great smile. One that almost brings a little glimpse of summer back into the cold fall morning.

“ So that’s a yes? “

“ Yes, Harrington. I think we should try this.”

He goes in for a hug then thinks better of it and pulls his arms quickly deciding to punch the air in excitement instead. There’s a nerdy quality to him. She wonders if he knows. It’s slightly endearing. Slightly.

“ Awesome. Cool. Great. Uh — I don’t have a couch but I do have a TV.” “ Cool! I have a coffee machine, a record player, and a cat.”

Mondays are a drag. Even when you’re your own boss. It’s one of the basic pillars of humanity. Mondays suck.

The air is brisk and sharp when (Y/N) makes her way out of her cozy warm bedroom and steps into the living area of the house. The floor is cold beneath her bare feet. They really need to invest in a rug or something, she thinks before her eyes meet the empty living room. A rug and a couch.

Steve’s door is still closed. The guy doesn’t get up before noon if he doesn’t have to go to work. Or maybe he just doesn’t wander out of his room. It’s been two weeks now and living with him is surprisingly easy. He’s not loud, he’s not messy. He’s barely around as it is. Most of the time he’s either at work or hanging out with this girl called Robin. Who (Y/N) thinks might be his girlfriend, she’s not entirely sure though.

The captain, (Y/N)’s black cat who used to live in the alleyway behind the record store, weaves his way around her ankles, his soft fur brushing against her skin.

"You hungry Cap? Let me brush my teeth real quick and I'll feed you, okay?"

Cap looks up at her with big black eyes and that's as good a reply as she can expect from the chubby cat.

The bathroom of their new house is small and cluttered. There’s makeup and lotions and hair products everywhere. The shower curtain is an ugly shade of washed-out blue and a little too short, which results in the bathroom partially flooding every time someone takes a shower.

Their bathroom is a bit of a mess but it’s a controlled mess, one (Y/N) is slowly but surely getting used to. What she doesn’t expect is to open the door and be greeted by a half-naked stranger.

Confusion and shock color the blonde girl’s face as she catches sight of (Y/N) through the mirror. An oversize shirt falls down her body, ending just below her butt, a sliver of red panties peeking out as she turns around.

“Holy fuck, who the hell are you?”

“You know what, I was gonna ask you the exact same thing.”

“I’m Leslie,” the girl says matter-of-factly as if not knowing should make (Y/N) feel some kind of shame. It reminds her of the way Tammy Thompson used to talk after coming back from her Nashville trip that one time in year 10.

“Good for you, what are you doing in my bathroom?” “ Uh — this is Steve’s bathroom.”

There’s a part of (Y/N) that wants to laugh. That wants to let out a hearty giggle and face the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. Though that part has to submit to the part of her that hates Monday mornings and hasn’t had a coffee yet.

“It’s also my bathroom. Do you see those lipsticks over there? You think those belong to Steve?”

Like the flip of a switch, the girl’s face falls. A deep unease settles over her features making her look much younger than the previous mask of post-coital confidence.

“Shit, are you the girlfriend?”

It’s not the first time someone has asked that question since they moved in together. It comes with the situation. There’s a certain expectation when people of different genders share a living space. (Y/N) thinks it’s absolute bullshit. Men and women can totally be just platonic friends. Not that her and Steve are even that.

“No I’m — you know what? Wait here.”

Life is just a sequence of battles being thrown your way. The art is to know which ones are worth fighting and which ones to pass on to your housemate.

A whiff of cold air slaps (Y/N) in the face as she opens the door to Steve’s room. The blue curtain flows with the breeze finding its way through the open window. It’s the first time she’s stepped foot in here since they properly moved in. His room smells clean, like crisp fall air and fresh linen. And a little bit like expensive cologne. There’s a dresser on one side of the room, his bed on the other. Other than that it’s pretty bare.

Wrinkled sheets hide the bottom half of Steve’s body, his chest proudly on display as he spreads out starfish-like on his bed. Man, that boy has a lot of chest hair. For a moment (Y/N)’s mind goes on a little time travel mission. Back to high school days. Back to when Steve was on the basketball team and took every chance to be on the skins team during training. Did he have as much chest hair then?

Before she can fully form the thought she shakes her head in displeasure. What business has she thinking about Steve Harrington’s fucking chest hair? Absolutely none.

“ Harrington, wake up.”

Nothing. Of course not.

God, she fucking hates Mondays.

“ Steve! Wake the fuck up!”

Absolutely no reaction.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

Grumbling to herself (Y/N) makes her way toward Steve’s sleeping form.

“I swear to god, if I end up seeing your penis I’m going to strangle you!”

In a swift motion, she grabs the pillow from beneath his head and smacks him across his stupid pretty face.

“What the fuck, (Y/N).”

“Oh, that does it then, physical violence?”

His voice is raspy and laced with sleep. It would be sexy if it was anyone but pretty boy Steve Harrington.

“What do you want?”

“I’d like to use my own bathroom in peace.”

Steve lifts his arms off of his face, regarding her with curious confusion. His eyebrow almost disappears behind his stupidly perfect hair. Where everyone else would sport an impressive case of bedhead, Steve’s mane looks perfectly styled as if every strand has been placed with precision. Maybe, she thinks, he’s some kind of wizard brewing potions and casting spells to keep his hair looking nice at all times.

Or maybe his hair is just that great.

“You need my help to go to the bathroom?”

“No, Harrington. I need you to get your friend out.”

“My frie — oh shit.”

He’s not naked. Thank god. He’s just wearing really tight boxer briefs. Gray ones.

It’s a face (Y/N) never thought she’d ever find out firsthand. Steve Harrington is a boxer briefs kinda guy. That’s another thing that comes with living together. Sooner or later you’ll figure out stuff about the other you never needed to know. You’ll know anyway. And from then on the knowledge is yours to do with as you see fit.

(Y/N) tries to push the info to the furthest corner of her brain, right there in a dusty box that holds most of what she learned in geometry class and the names of all the drunk girls she’s ever made friends with in a bar bathroom.

Then again, at least he’s not naked.

It takes Steve a full 25 minutes to convince Leslie that (Y/N) is in fact not his girlfriend and another 20 to get her out of the house. She leaves with a promise of him calling again. It’s a promise he has no intention of keeping, even (Y/N) can tell. It’s a soft lie. One meant not to hurt but to cushion the inevitable fall.

It’s gonna hurt anyway and for a second (Y/N) feels bad for the girl. Only for a second though. Her third cup of coffee washes away those feelings.

“I’m really sorry about that,” Steve exclaims as he drops down onto the floor next to her, his own cup of coffee in hand. “It’s not gonna happen again.”

“We should set up some rules.”

“For when we have dates over?”

“For living together.”

“Okay uh yeah — that makes sense. I guess.”

(Y/N) rips a page from one of the many notebooks lying around.

“What should I call it?” She asks before Steve takes the sharpie from her hand and scribbles something onto the blank page.

Steve and (Y/N)’s roommate rules.

“Okay sounds good. 1. Dates need to be out by morning or announced in advance. That cool with you?”

Steve nods his head in approval, hair shaking with every move.

“ Anything you wanna add? “

“ Mmmm.” His lips almost disappear with the way he sucks them in, trying to speak up but worried about upsetting her.

“ Spit it out, Harrington.”

“You play your music really loudly. And no offense but I can only do so much Bon Jovi before I want to stab a fork in my ear.”

“That is absolutely offensive and also blasphemy but I accept it. Put it on the list.”

A silence settles over the two as the morning sun rises above the horizon, throwing long rays of autumn sun through the windows. A scene quite serene and calm. If it wasn’t for the fact that (Y/N)’s ass is almost numb from sitting on the freezing cold floor.

“We need a fucking couch.” “ We really do.”

(Y/N)’s eyes fall towards Steve’s figure sitting next to her. His chest still bare. His legs still bare. The guy is still in his boxer briefs and one lone sock.

“Put some clothes on man.”

3. No walking around in underwear.

A shrill beeping sound wakes Steve from a dreamless slumber. For a second his mind travels to bad places. Dark memories clouded in fear. Sounds from a world like this but different. Warped and disfigured and wrong.

Then his mind fog disappears slowly but surely and he realizes that he is in fact not in the upside down but at home. At home in his own house in his own room in his own bed.

And the sound? That’s the fire alarm.

Oh shit, the fire alarm.

Throwing his blanket off of himself, Steve hurries out of his room and rounds the corner expecting the worst. Ever since — things started happening, he always expects the worst.

He’s not greeted by flames. There is no fire. Nothing is ablaze.

But there’s (Y/N), looking down sadly at a tray of what he thinks might be muffins. If they’re supposed to be dark chocolate they look perfect. If they’re supposed to be anything else they’re badly burned.

“ What the hell is going on? “ he asks as he pushed the button, turning off the horrible beeping sound.

“ I was stress-baking and ended up forgetting about the muffins while they were in the oven. I blame that fancy-ass wine yours.”

When he left home, Steve took a few bottles of the expensive Cabernet his parents keep in their wine cabinet. Not because he likes to drink it, in fact, it all tastes like bitter, overpriced grape juice to him. No, that was purely out of spite.

“Why are you drinking wine and baking at — “ he glances at the clock on the microwave, “midnight? “

A strand of hair falls in front of her face and for a split second, he wants to push it away, comb it behind her ear. Then he reminds himself that he hardly knows the girl. You don’t go around brushing people’s hair off their faces if you don’t know them. That’s something intimate. Like kissing the top of someone's head. Like tugging them in when they fall asleep on the couch.

“Just — everything with the record store is stressing me out. I’ve never had to manage a whole store by myself. I don’t know the first thing about owning a business. And right now it’s still going alright but what if I mess up? What if people stop coming by and the store stops making money and then we will never be able to buy a couch.”

He’s not seen her like that before. Sad. He hates it. Her mouth is pulled into a frown and where her eyes usually glimmer with mischief and excitement, they look dull and glassy now.

He wants it on record that the glimmer in her eyes was something he discovered purely by accident and not because he looks at her that much. It’s all purely circumstantial.

“So I don’t know anything about owning a business. But I do know one thing.”

“ Yeah? And what’s that?”

“ No matter what happens. People will always need music. People will always need a record store.”

Many times in his life, Steve found himself in situations knowing he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Stupid intrusive thoughts have tumbled from his lips too many times to count.

This time, he thinks he might’ve said exactly what needed to be said. At least if her smile is any indication of it.

“ Thanks, Harrington. That’s a very sweet thing to say.”

He shrugs his shoulders casually as if it’s no big deal.

It’s a little bit of a big deal.

“And about that couch? We’ll figure that out, I promise. In the meantime — “

He squats down to the floor, opens the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, and pulls out the thick roll of shiny silver duct tape.

“What are you doing, you weirdo? “

“I’m planning.”

“Planning what? “

“ Our future.”

With a determination that’s even foreign to himself, Steve struts into the living area and kneels down on where the couch would be.

“Come on, come sit on our couch.”

Slowly but surely he creates a, someone lopsided and imperfect, duct tape outline on the wooden floors.

He can almost see it. A cozy L-shaped sofa in the middle of the room. Maybe a nice forest green. Maybe shiny brown leather.

It doesn’t matter really. It will be theirs. In his own home. That he pays for with his own money. Where disappointment doesn’t try to grab and pull at him from every corner. Where he is just Steve and that’s enough.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yeah?"

"No more midnight baking, okay? Can we put that on the list?"

She laughs and nods.

"Yeah, that's okay with me. Hey, you know what?” (Y/N) asks as she drops down on the floor next to him, crossing her legs and handing a glass of wine to him, keeping one to herself.

“What’s that?”

“I really enjoy living with you. I think we’re a good team.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“You know what else?”

“Hmmm?”

“I can’t wait to decorate our house for Christmas.”

Our house.

Steve nods and takes a sip from the glass. Yup, still bitter and overpriced grape juice.

“Maybe by winter we’ll have a couch.”

Laughter echoes through the halls of the little house as it stands nestled between elms and maple trees. The night is inky black but the little light that comes from the house casts a glow into the dark.

There is no pain in this house. It doesn’t live here anymore. There is only laughter. And friendship. And the promise of something more. Something grand. Something that is entirely their own.

Sometimes a maybe is more than disappointment wrapped in a pretty bow.

Sometimes maybe is a chance.

Sometimes maybe is the beginning of something wonderful.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington writing #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x fem!reader #borrowedandbluefic

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strwbrryhrry · 2 years

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hi idk if you like eddie munson or joseph quinn or stranger things or steve harrington or write or like to read about said people i’d really like to follow you so my feed has more content that i want to see so if you could like this or maybe share some of your favorite blogs to follow that’d be really cool of you thanks

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kurogxrix · 5 months

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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

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astermath · 10 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

#steve harrington x reader #stevemath #aster writer stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington writing #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington fluff

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manwrre · 7 months

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head canon is neurodivergent steve kinda being a jack of all trades when it comes to anything remotely physical or like hands on (cmon, we’ve seen him twirl the bat). like, he’s got a lot of little niche interests and hobbies or skills because he gets bored a lot and goes through these little phases of hyperfixation when it comes to this stuff.

like, he’s got a green thumb??? his nonna (because head canon steve is a sweet little italian boy, sue me) always told him that fresher herbs were better for cooking and obviously, he cooks his own meals. so he makes the decision to start a kitchen garden and bro is a NATURAL. i’m talking rosemary, oregano, parsley, thyme, basil and freaking tomatoes for the heck of it.

or like, he once watched a segment on ‘the perfect conditions for growing strawberries’ and he couldn’t get it out of his head. he was up for the challenge?? visited the library and got a million books, bought the soil and equipment and kept them warm in the winter like they were his BABIES. and they were freaking delicious so obviously, he learnt how to make jam outta them.

he’s also crazy good at shit like draughts?? so he’s got a massive board and he plays against himself routinely. he plans on moving unto chess eventually but he hasn’t beat himself yet! all of his games keep coming to a draw.

he definitely knits and freaking crochets. he found a box of needles in the attic one time and some material and tried his hand at it. it took him a week or two but he knows about three different types of stitches at least!! and knitted himself some fingerless gloves last winter.

above all else though, he’s learnt how to play like two instruments—“and the triangle! she matters, she has feelings.” his parents had bought him a bunch of instruments as a kid, hoping that he’d have some inclination towards the arts so they could boast about it but he wasn’t really interested. he realized he hated the acoustic guitar so he got an electric one, which suits him sm better AND he can play the drums. but he likes to learn the hardest solos or nothing fr because he’s competitive

bonus points if steve underplays his interests when he’s dating billy because his parents can’t get him to shut up fast enough about ‘em. but the more billy comes over, the more he notices all of the little knickknacks just laying around ie. steve’s collection of mini whittled animals or his draught board laid out because he got stumped mid-game or the amps beneath his bed. and he’ll ask about them!! he’ll think it’s so freaking cool and let steve rant and babble about them for hours.

he’ll taste test all of his new recipes and learn draughts so he can kick steve’s ass and listen to new songs or instrumentals that he learns. like, there’s no way he won’t get wrapped up into his new interests with him and make it their thing.

#neurodivergent steve harrington #steve harrington #harringrove #billy hargrove #writing #head canon #soft steve harrington #boys in love #autistic steve harrington #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove blurb #steve harrington writing

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lazylittledragon · 1 month

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if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

#i'd have like. five. which isn't a lot but IT KEEPS HAPPENING #stranger things #platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #here we go again boys #i've had this floating in my head for a Minute and i was like #nah i'm not gonna do it #maybe i'll anonymously write a fic #but no we're mombin posting on main #i think on twt we agreed it's a 'what's the worst that could happen' situation #platonic co parents can be so so so personal #also i have One more stobin wip and then bg3 again i swear #when i have a baby i Will be putting my giant black wings on beforehand #they have to know what kind of family they're coming into #cw pregnancy

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steddiecameraroll · 3 months

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ao3 (includes pt2)

Eddie knows he’s gonna lose it one day. Every single time he watches Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimands the feral teens, he wants to jump the man’s bones.

He ends up pinching whatever exposed skin he has when the urge hits him, leaving itty bitty bruises behind.

It works for months until one evening when Eddie lets his guard down and is 3 beers deep. Steve is leaning against the wall with his shoulder holding himself up. Eddie is telling him about how he had to haul Mike off Dustin the day before and Steve out of habit slides his hand up onto his hip.

Eddie stops midsentence and lets his eyes follow the long lean line of Steve’s body to his fingers.

“What?” Steve asks in confusion.

“Huh?” Eddie’s mouth is open when he looks back up.

“You stopped talking.”

“Well fuck, man.” Eddie sighs and flops against the wall near Steve, his back hitting flat and puffing out a huff of air. “You-you do that bitchy fucking stance and it drives me crazy. I wanna…UGH!” He covers his face, the beer can he’s holding presses against his cheek.

“You wanna what?” Steve sounds nervous.

Eddie whines and stomps his feet a little, trying to hold back his answer. It’s so close to falling out, resting on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna what, man?” Steve’s voice coming out stronger like he’s daring Eddie to be honest.

Eddie drops his hands and pouts over at Steve. “Don’t make me say it.” He shifts from one foot to the other.

“Say what? You’re acting weird.” Steve stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh goooood, then you do that.” Eddie whines. “You don’t even know, look at you.” He sighs and flops his arms in defeat.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Steve stares like he’s watching a car crash.

“I WANT TO FUCK YOU! You stand like that and-and I can’t think. It makes me crazy. Like-like feral animal crazy. I want to rip your clothes off and scratch my nails down your chest and watch you tell those little shits off. I can’t fucking take it!” Eddie groans, spins on his heels, and stomps away.

Steve stands in shock, letting Eddie’s words sink in. After a brief moment he shrugs to himself and murmurs, “ok.”

Robin’s head pops around the corner. “What’d you say?”

Pt 2-ish

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

#steve doesn’t understand what the big deal is #he would’ve been having sex with Eddie for months #all he had to do was ask #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #my writing

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satelliteddie · 2 years

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keep driving - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a scatter-brained steve doesn’t want the night to end, so he convinces you to go on a midnight road trip with him and ignore all of hawkins’ impending doom

content warnings: mushy/love-sick steve, implied sex, touching over clothes, kissing, (light) choking, mentions of drug-use/alcohol-use

word count: 3.6k

authors notes: not a thought in my brain besides: “choke her with a sea view” or in this case LAKE view ;)

Black and white film camera

Yellow sunglasses

Ashtray, swimming pool

Hot wax, jump off the roof

The surface of the water breaks into ripples, spilling across the entire pool before it splashes the walls. You take a deep breath in as you swim through the pool water. Your legs float up from under you letting you lay flat on your back on the surface of the water. The night sky is covered in stars and constellations, the moon shining so bright it lights up the trees surrounding Steve’s backyard. You sigh as you take another deep breath in before letting yourself get pulled under the water. You sink to the bottom of the deep end, staying there for a moment to enjoy the peace you find in the silence while under the water. Bubbles release from your nose and mouth as you push off the floor of the pool, rushing back to the surface. The water breaks again, the waves you created rolling to the edge of the pool.

“How many times are you going to do that?” Steve asks from his lounge chair, an unlit cigarette held between his fingers. His tone is playful as he smirks at you, flicking open his lighter. Steve lights the end of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke, but his gaze remains fixed on you as you move through the pool.

“Not sure yet,” you smile back, pushing yourself up to lean against the pool wall. You cross your arms on the cool concrete, resting your chin on them. The water droplets from your hair fall in a steady pace against your skin, sloping down and splashing onto the pavement. Steve watches you intently from his chair; he still can’t bring himself to go into his own pool after everything that’s happened, but he could watch you swim for hours. He watches every water droplet move over your soft skin and catches himself swallowing hard as the water travels between your breasts. Something about your wet hair, skin, eyelashes, everything and the dull light of the moon makes you look ethereal.

“Don’t move,” Steve urges as he stands from the chair, pulling the cigarette from his lips and smothering it in the ashtray. He rushes to the garage in search of a gift he swore he’d never use. Jonathan had told Steve that he would: “just know when the moment was right”, he laughed at the time, but thanked Jonathan nonetheless. Steve sighs as he tosses another box out of the way before grinning to himself as he grasps the film camera. He runs back outside to find you exactly where he left you, but the smile on your face has grown tenfold.

“What are you doing?” You ask, lifting your chin off your arms.

“Hey!” Steve scolds, “no moving!” He gives a tight lipped smile as you lower your head back down. Steve squats down near the edge of the pool, pointing the camera in your direction; Steve hopes he set up the film correctly—he was only half listening to Jonathan when he gave it to him. Steve squints as he looks through the viewfinder, focusing the lense on you. The camera shutters and clicks, capturing the way you look while lit by only the pool light and moon. Steve’s breath hitches as he pulls the camera away from his eyes, there’s no way she’s real.

“What did you say?” You ask in a laugh.

Shit. “Nothing,” Steve stumbles over his words. Change the subject, Harrington. “You ever thought about jumping off the roof into the pool?”

“What?” You laugh even harder. You tilt your head back in a fit of giggles, the edges of your hair dipping back under water.

“Cause I have,” Steve admits. He stands from his spot near the pool and sits on the edge of the lounger. “Always thought it would be cool to jump from there into the water.”

“Steve,” you run your fingers over the top of the water. “There’s not a chance in hell you could make it from that roof,” you extend your finger as you point. “To this pool without actually killing yourself.”

“Huh,” Steve sighs in defeat. “I guess we’ll never know.” He turns over the camera in his hands, playing with the small lense. He turns the camera towards the sky, trying his best to focus on the moon. Steve’s not convinced he’s using the camera correctly, but tries to take a photo of the stars anyways. You kick your feet off the wall in front of you, driving back under the water once more. Reaching the stairs at the far end, you climb your way out of the water and grab a towel. You bring the cloth to your face, wiping your eyes and cheeks, taking a huge inhale at the same time. Even the towels smell like him. Your heart twists as you close your eyes and think about how much Steve smells like home. You drape the towel over your shoulders as you approach him, standing between his wide-spread legs. Water droplets continue to roll over your skin and onto the concrete, but some of them land on Steve's legs. The water leaves spots across his jeans, but he doesn’t mind; he smiles up at you, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs.

“Wanna go for a drive?” Steve asks out of nowhere. He pushes a water bead along your leg with his thumb, letting the water dissolve.

“Steve,” you giggle, running your hands through his hair. He rests his chin on your lower belly, beaming up at you from his spot in the chair. “Where do you want to go?”

Steve’s face splits into a deep grin, “out…anywhere.”

A small concern with how the engine sounds

We held darkness in withheld clouds

I would ask, "Should we just keep driving?"

Maple syrup, coffee

Pancakes for two

Hash brown, egg yolk

I will always love you

Steve turns over the key inside his BMW, slapping his hand on the dash as the key doesn’t catch. He watches through the window as you shut his front door and lock it; the front door light casts a glow over you as you walk down his steps. Steve’s Hawkins swim hoodie falls to your mid-thigh, your legs covered in a pair of sweats you always leave at his place, and worn out converse crunch along the ground. Your steps falter as you approach the driveway, head tilted as you look at Steve. A god awful scraping noise erupts from the car before the headlights blink alive and the engine starts. Steve flashes you a satisfied smile through the windshield before standing to his full height outside the car.

His eyes scan you from top to bottom, his heart skipping as he sees you in his clothes: “Ready?”

“Uh,” you shake your head at him. “I am, but is your car ready?”

“Oh yeah, that was nothing,” his confidence almost sells the lie, but you narrow your eyes at him. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, it doesn’t sound good.” You step around him to get closer to the front of the car.

“It does it sometimes, but I promise it’s fine.”

-✩-

You have your legs tucked up under you as you sit on the passenger side, turned in the seat to look at Steve. His left hand grips the steering wheel, his right one tucked into your smaller hands as you rub circles in his palm.

“So,” you watch the trees move past the car in a blur. Steve’s silhouette is breathtaking even in the minimal light, he’d worn the burgundy sweater you adored and those jeans that fit him just right. He turns his focus away from the road just for a moment to meet your eyes, he nods as you continue, “where exactly are we going? It’s 1:28am on a Thursday…”

“We’re going wherever the road takes us,” Steve moves your joined hands from your lap to his lips. He presses a quick kiss to the back of your hand before letting them fall back to your seat.

“Yes,” you giggle and roll your eyes at him. “But you are driving the car…” You trail off as Steve lays his head back on the headrest in a laugh. “Shouldn’t you be getting rest? It’s rare that we don’t have a monster to fight,” you ask timidly, your eyes fixed on your hands.

You don’t want to bring up the obvious battles you both have been facing in Hawkins, but you worry about Steve – more than you would ever let him know. He is constantly protecting those around him, letting his own wellbeing fall to the wayside. He would stay up for hours at night replaying everything that's happened to your friend group; he was determined to figure out where it all went wrong and how he could have done better. So now when he should be resting, he wants to keep moving and keep his brain going. Busy body, busy mind. Even when he does rest, Steve doesn’t sleep well... he can't bring himself to the point of having a normal night’s sleep; which was half of the reason you agreed to a midnight swim, which led to a midnight car ride.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asks, flicking on his blinker and pulling off of the main road down a side street.

“Steve,” you say with some force behind it, but he dismisses you. Steve repeats his question while holding eye contact with you; he doesn’t do it to be rude or passive aggressive, he just truly can’t have Hawkins ruin another night. You shrug with a half-smile, “I could be.”

“Diner?”

-✩-

Moments later you pull into the 24-hour diner just on the edge of Hawkins, the sign outside buzzes as you pass it. Steve puts the car into park and reluctantly lets go of your hand to get out; he rushes around the hood of the car before you can open your door, so he can do it for you. He reaches his hand out and pulls you from the car, tucking you into his side while kicking the door shut. The diner is empty besides the tired staff who give you forced smiles as you and Steve sit in the booth closest to the windows and hostess stand. The clock on the far wall ticks as you read the time: 2:02am. Steve immediately clasps his hand over yours on the table top before flipping through the menu with his free hand.

“Why are you looking?” You ask with a suppressed grin. “You always get the same thing, hell you order the same thing for me, too.”

“I do not,” Steve shakes his head at you, keeping his focus down on the menu. He knows you're right, but he’ll be damned if he admits that without a fight. You remove your hand from his, reaching for a pen from the hostess desk behind you and start scribbling on a napkin. You fold it over in your palm, Steve’s intention is now on you as he scrunches his eyebrows. “What-”

“So what are you getting then?” You ask with a smirk that nearly knocks Steve right out of the booth. Your smiles suck all of the air right out of his chest and make him dizzy.

You fidget with the napkin as you wait for his answer which he reluctantly gives: “Coffee, eggs with hashbrowns, and we could split pancakes.” He finishes his order hesitantly, blinking up at you. You are still sitting with a smug grin on your face as you flip open the napkin on the table and in your perfect handwriting, Steve sees: “coffee, pancakes for two, hashbrown, eggs (sunny side up)”. A full-body laugh shakes its way out of Steve causing him to look back at you with sparkling eyes. The waitress finally makes her way over to the table and you offer her another knee-weakening smile, Steve watches you intently as you order for both of you. Steve could not have repeated back any part of your conversation with the waitress, he was too focused on you. It was like the world fell silent when he watched you; not in a way that was creepy or prying, but in a way that he was fascinated that you were his. You loved him. You knew Steve and all his flaws; his weird tendency to order the same thing at every diner, his hesitation on swimming, his fascination with the Upside Down, and his unconditional love for his BMW that should have been scrap metal by now—but you still love him. And he loves you. Steve’s heart pounds so loud his ears sound like they’re underwater. Steve’s thumb brushes over the soft skin of your hand and his mouth works before his mind, “yknow I will always love you, right?”

“Of course I do,” you reply instantly. You glance down at your intertwined fingers, “and I will always love you.”

Steve does know that, just like you know he will always love you, but it doesn’t stop both of your hearts from beating faster as your words stay in the air between you.

Just as quickly as your food arrives, it disappears into your hungry bellies in-between giggly, love-sick conversations. Steve groans and leans back against the booth seat as if he ate a full Thanksgiving meal, pushing his empty plate away.

“C’mon,” you stand from the booth, extending a hand for him to take. Steve tosses cash onto the table, with an excessive tip that you insisted he leave for the “very tired staff”. As he stands, he slides his hand across the table, grabbing the napkin with your writing on it; Steve stuffs it into his jean pocket to take home with him before you notice.

A small concern with how the engine sounds

We held darkness in withheld clouds

I would ask, "Should we just keep driving?"

Should we just keep driving?

“There’s no way!” Your words are laced with a laugh, “Baby, I love you. I do, but there’s no way you would win.”

“We fight supernatural creatures on a daily basis, but you don’t think I could win in a fight against Eddie? Eddie Munson? Do you see the fault in your logic here?” Steve sarcastically quips, his hands lifting from the steering wheel dramatically.

“Fine,” you conceded. “I’m just saying–” A loud scraping noise cuts through your words, Steve’s car rattling as he drives. “Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Steve whispers as he looks down at his dashboard. Truth is he’s not sure it’s fine, but he won’t let you know that or even voice it. This car has been through hell and back, so Steve is sure it’ll make it home, even if he has to push it.

“Maybe we should pull over?” You suggest, “Find a phone booth and call Robin or–”

“It’s fine,” Steve repeats. He senses your hesitation and he tries his best to remain confident in his words, “I wouldn’t drive it if it wasn’t fine. Let’s just keep driving.” You don’t necessarily agree with him, but nod and turn your face to the window. Steve places an encouraging hand on your thigh, squeezing the flesh under his palm. “So, you really don’t think I could take Munson?”

Passports in footwells

Kiss her and don't tells

Wine glass, puff pass, tea with cyborgs

Riot America, science and edibles

Life hacks going viral in the bathroom

Steve navigates the BMW through the uneven, gravel parking lot of Lover’s Lake before placing the car in park. Steve lets out the breath he’d been holding since the car first made noise, only a couple miles until home. You stir in the passenger seat, waking at the silence of the car now. “Hi,” Steve smiles down at you from his seat, running a hand through your hair and over your chin. You shake your head and look out the window seeing the lake. You tilt your face at Steve with a smile, “why are we here?”

“Wanna show you something,” Steve says, his features are soft as he looks over yours. You exit the car and Steve meets you at the front of the BMW, you rub the palm of your hand into your eyes trying to wake yourself up again. Steve hops onto the hood of the car, laying back and leaning on the windshield.

“Steve, this is probably why your car sounds like this,” you say with a dismissive head shake. He shushes you and reaches out to bring you up on the hood with him. You lay against his side on the cool metal and glass of the car, your head resting on his shoulder. The crickets chirp in the long grasses surrounding the park, the reflection of the moon shining off of the water of the lake.

“I used to come here almost every night last summer,” Steve says, his face tilted up at the stars. “I would just- I would lay like this,” he gestures to the hood of the car. His eyes flick to you for a moment before going back to the sky, “thinking about you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you lean away, trying to make eye contact with him. It’s not that you think Steve’s lying, it's just that you can’t believe he would come here to think about you. Last year you didn’t even think Steve liked you as a friend, let alone more than that.

Steve doesn’t acknowledge your doubt, but instead continues talking, “I used to come here like a love-sick puppy, asking the stars for advice. Hell, I told the stars I liked you before I told you. One time I thought I could try one of Munson’s edibles to calm my nerves, and gain the courage to tell you–”

You can’t fight the smirk that pulls at your lips, “you took one of Eddie’s edibles? Oh baby, you must have been messed up.”

“Oh I was,” Steve shakes his head with a chuckle. “I felt like I melted to the hood of my car and woke up two hours later, obviously I didn’t tell you that night either.” You turn fully on your side, running your hand over Steve’s soft sweater on his chest.

“I used to get wine drunk when I thought about you too much,” you confess, pushing your head into Steve’s arm. Your embarrassment causes your cheeks to burn, but Steve tilts your face back to his.

“No way,” he grins wider than you’ve ever seen it. His eyes race over every part of you, “really?” You squint at him as he continues to stare at you. It’s his turn now to sit in disbelief; Steve can’t believe that you would have been so caught up on him that you were brought to the point of drinking. You nod against him trying to hide your smile. Steve’s heart flips in his chest, his lungs constricting and his eyes melting.

Cocaine, side boob

Choke her with a sea view

Toothache, bad move

Just act normal

Moka pot Monday, it's all good

Hey, you

Should we just keep driving?

Ooh-ooh, ooh

Should we just keep driving?

Steve’s large hand grips your jawline, his thumb brushing over the highpoint of your cheek. He nudges you forward, his lips brushing over yours lightly; it’s not a full kiss on your lips, but just the ghosting of his lips on yours. Steve sighs, resting his forehead on yours as his eyes shut. You snuggle closer to Steve’s side, his smirk growing. He’s content in this moment with you. Just you, him and the stars. Steve flutters his eyes open, stroking your cheek one more time before he crashes his mouth into yours. You moan into his mouth, taking every piece of him that he gives. You run your hands over his sweater, pulling him closer by it. Your hands quickly find the sides of his neck, running soft fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, hammering against his ribs. How do I keep this feeling forever? His mind races, but his movements are slow and intentional with you. He kisses you with such passion that it’s dizzying; his lips melt over yours as he sucks your lips and brushes his tongue over them. Steve moves his one hand from the side of your face, moving lower to your neck. His hand gently squeezes the skin under his fingers, causing you to moan into his mouth. Steve releases your neck and your mouth at the same time, you whine as he leaves you to press kisses on your jaw. His hand lingers over your neck, brushing his fingers over where he just squeezed. Goosebumps rise over your skin, your intention flicking to him with lust in your eyes. Steve kisses you again with more heat behind it, his hand chokes you again while his other strokes your ribs and side of your boob. He’s not rough with you ever, but he presses just enough on your windpipe to get your lips to part in a moan.

“Steve,” you say against his mouth. He doesn’t respond, his mouth still working against yours. You run your hands in his hair, pulling him back, “Stevie.” His heart flips again at the nickname, Steve stops his movements looking at you with a lopsided grin.

“Yes, baby,” he presses his lips to the side of your mouth.

“Wanna go home?” You ask, running your fingers over the soft material of his sweater. “Or should we just keep driving?” He smiles down at you and pretends to ponder over the question, but he already knows the answer.

“Let’s go home.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

I LOVE domestic!steve oh my gooOOOD

next in the series: satellite - e.m.

✭masterlist ✭ requests

-meg

#steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington fic #steve harrington writing #st x harrys house

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dynamic-power · 3 months

Text

Steve is walking down the hallway towards his math class when it happens.

Someone bumps into him, a girl he only vaguely recognizes, and she reaches out and grabs his hand to steady herself.

His vision explodes with what he knows must be color. Bright shades assault his eyes, shades he doesn't even have names for. His classmates' clothes, the tiles beneath his feet, the homecoming sign above him. Even the lights have taken on a new hue, washing Steve's entire world in something completely alien.

The girl looks as shocked as steve feels. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth drooped open as she spins in a slow circle. She's pretty, he thinks. Short hair, soft features, an unusual sense of style. She's clutching an instrument case, and he thinks that's why he recognizes her.

"Uh," he says, catching her attention. "Hi."

Her mouth opens, closes, opens once more, and then she dashes away from him, disappearing into the throng of students.

He spends the rest of the day cataloging colors. By the time he's climbing into his car (which is a color he still can't name, but has decided he likes) he's found at least a dozen different shades, and he wonders how they all fit into the seven colors he's been told are in the rainbow.

He tells his mom when he gets home that day. She is ecstatic. When Steve admits he doesn't have anything to tell about the girl herself, his mom turns her attention on naming colors for him.

It becomes quickly apparent that something isn't quite right. He'd been so focused on everything that was new that he hadn't realized what was the same. He still sees a lot of grays. Blues, purples, greens,and violets are all still lost on him.

That doesn't make what he can see any less spectacular, though. Oranges, reds, pinks, yellows. The yellows are his favorite.

He'll meet his other soulmate, his mother assures him, as they sit in the backyard, admiring the rich golds and reds of the trees that he can now see, standing out against the gray of the sky he knows should be blue.

He does, about two years later. He's picking Henderson up from school one afternoon, but instead of Dustin climbing into the front seat like usual, the back door swings open violently and not one but two figures scramble into the back seat.

"Henderson, what the fuck?!?"

"Drive!" Henderson screeches, his head popping up between the seats. "Go, go, go!" A hand, not Dustin's, reaches out as the stranger tries to sit himself up and fingers graze his temple as he's peeling away from the curb.

"Motherfucking assmunch-" Dustin is saying, "thinking he can get away with that shit-"

But Steve isn't paying attention, because the trees are green and the sky is blue and the world is suddenly right.

Steve looks into the rearview mirror and meets the gaze of a shocked-looking Eddie Munson.

#dyno writes #stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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starkidmunson · 3 months

Text

glitter & crimson

“Marry.”

“What?”

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

“Eddie, we’re not playing FMK; you’re supposed to be telling me his name.”

“Oh. That’s…. Joe Jonas.”

“…he’s literally from Hawkins. And he’s holding a hockey stick.”

“Nobody from Hawkins is that hot, man, no way.”

~~~

Gareth posts the clip to his personal TikTok. Before he can get around to reposting it on Corroded Coffin’s band account, it has more than 100k views. Things only spiral from there, because once the band shares it, the video goes more viral and ends up on the screens of the right people.

chiblkhwks: harrington94 is social media challenged, but we’re going to make sure he sees this. Will keep you posted.

The comment is immediately overshadowed by a busy day of PR. A photoshoot to an interview to a radio show to the green room at the Fillmore in Boston, before an intimate pre-album release show for members of their fan club. Eddie has completely forgotten about the video entirely, but Gareth’s phone pings with a text notification.

“A response has been issued!” He declares to the room, still grinning down at the screen of his phone.

The rest of the band shares a collectively confused look, all seeming pleased to find they’re not alone in whatever they’ve missed.

“What?” Jeff asks for the group.

In lieu of an explanation, Gareth just flips the phone in his hand around to show a TikTok, stitched with the clip they’d made earlier that morning.

~~~

“Marry. He’s hot, I’m not gonna kill him.”

#Stitch

“Is… is that supposed to be a compliment?” Steve asks, making a pinched face as he laces up his skates.

“You watched the whole video. He compared you to Joe Jonas.” The girl behind the camera responds, but he levels her with an unimpressed look. She doesn’t respond, and after a beat, he sighs.

“Yeah, alright, I guess Joe Jonas is hot. I’ll take the compliment.” He huffs, standing to his feet and moving from the bench he’d been suiting up on toward the ice. The girl follows him, gliding toward the net once they're in the rink, never falling out of pace with him.

“Do you know who it is talking in the video?” She presses, and Steve looks unimpressed again.

“You mean the other hot guy?” He asks with a grin, then nods. “That was Eddie. I’m surprised you don’t know him, the Party listens to Corroded Coffin all the time.”

The video loops back to the stitched clip from Gareth’s initial TikTok then. Everyone in the room processes what just unfolded.

“The Party? Did… did Steve Harrington just make a reference to DnD? Or is that some sports thing I dont understand?” Jeff asks.

Freak raises his hand, indicating he’s next to speak. “Not only that, but his nerdy DnD friends listen to us all the time?”

“Did King Steve call Joe Jonas hot?” Eddie asks, visibly still trying to connect the wires in his brain that fried at Steve’s agreement. “Did he call me hot?”

All three turn toward Eddie, whose face is still reflecting the long form math equation his brain is trying to work out, and Jeff sighs.

“Well, boys. I think we’ve officially lost him.” He says, bowing his head. Freak and Gareth join him solemnly, making Eddie huff and cross his arms over his chest.

“You’re all so dramatic.”

“Gee, I wonder who encouraged us to be this way,” Freak exaggerates through a grin, before shoving a guitar into Eddie’s chest, just in time for Paige to open the door and summon them.

“We can have a meltdown over Harrington after the gig,” Gareth promises with a pat to Eddie’s back as everyone moves around him, exiting the green room and heading for the stage.

~~~

Riding his post-show high, Eddie makes a bold move in the CC band TikTok, commenting under the video Steve had stitched.

corrodedcoff!n: we’ll be in chicago 1/26 if harrington94 and ‘the party’ are free 🎫

He only gets about 20 minutes of peace before Gareth is jumping around, proclaiming himself the greatest wingman in history.

“It’s an offer for free concert tickets made over social media, and he hasn’t even answered, Gare Bear.” Eddie tries to get him to relax, but he, too, is eager to see how the other reacts to the offer.

He wakes up the next morning to the answer he’d been waiting on, and his stomach flips as he reads it over.

harrington94: only if you guys come to the home game 1/27 🏒

__________

Steve doesn’t even bat an eye when Max shoves her way into the locker room, b-lining straight for him.

“Can I help you?” He asks without looking up, unhooking the padding from his calf and letting it drop to the ground in front of his locker.

“Are you using TikTok to publicly flirt with Eddie Munson?” She asks, voice quieter than he’d typically expect from her, but he just scoffs.

“I’m just being friendly! You’re the one who started this in the first place! What, you didn’t expect me to log on and check if they’d responded?” He asks in response, freeing his foot from the skate, before placing a cover over the blade and letting the boot drop into the lower shelf beside his locker.

“I’m just confused because you’ve been super weird about coming out, and now you’re out here hitting on a rockstar all over social media, that’s all.” Max says, and Steve freezes for a moment.

“Do you…” he trails off, before closing his eyes and rubbing a thumb into his temple. “You really think I just accidentally came out?”

“You called Joe Jonas and Eddie Munson hot, encouraged this rockstar to come to your game when he’s in town and also accepted tickets to see him perform, Steve.” Max was monotone, and held her hands up defensively when he groaned. “I’m not starting anything, I’m just saying that this could get blown out of proportion now.”

They discuss a little further, deciding neither of them will publicly acknowledge anything that’s been posted to the account for now, until they actually come up with a plan.

Once he’s in his car heading home, Steve calls Robin.

“Dingus,” she greets, as always, and he lets out a grumble. “Uh oh. What happened?”

“I think I accidentally came out on the internet, and it’s Eddie Munson’s fault.” He’s met with several seconds of silence as he starts his car on the path to him and Robin’s shared apartment.

“Eddie, the drug dealer from high school?” Robin eventually asks, confused, and Steve groans again.

“Yeah. He uh, also is in a band?” He supplies, and Robin’s quiet for a moment as she processes. Then, he hears the tapping of a keyboard. “What are you doing?”

“Looking Eddie up, obviously.” Steve can practically see her eye roll, even though they’re not FaceTiming. “You’re nothing if not consistent, I guess. Doe-eyed curly brunet.”

Steve scoffs. “You say as though you’re not the one currently waking up beside Nance every morning.”

He’s met again by a short silence, before Robin lets out a little puff of air, in a small laugh. “Thank you again for being so cool about that, by the way.” She says, before he hears clicking on her end. “Apparently, Eddie is out as bi. Corroded Coffin does a charity show for the Trevor Project every year, and he’s been to a lot of Pride events.”

Steve’s stomach twists with each new bit of information she provides, because a part of him wants to be that out, wants to be like Robin or apparently Eddie, freely sharing that part of themselves with the world and having no one give a shit. But that’s not how it works on so many levels for Steve. Beside the shit he’d have to deal with on the ice from certain other players, he had no idea how it would impact the team overall. There’s no way to gauge how fans would react, when there’s never been an openly gay player in the NHL. And that didn't even begin to touch on how his parents would react.

“Hey,” Robin breaks him out of his spiral and he realizes he’s been chewing a hole into his cheek. “I can hear how loud you’re thinking right now. Do you need me to come home?” She asks, gently, and he sighs.

“Please.” He mumbles after a long pause, and is grateful when he hears the jingle of car keys from the other end of the phone.

~~~

Robin scrolls through article after article once she gets to their place, pulling Steve onto the sofa with her and laying his head in her lap. Her fingers twist through his hair, doing her best to keep him calm as she reads up on the situation playing out to try and help gauge how big of a hole he’s dug himself this time.

“I don’t think there’s really anyone who thinks you were flirting with him. Not seriously, at least.” She tries to assure him, but he’d already seen the twitter posts to contradict that before she came over. He sighs and rolls onto his back, so he’s looking up at her, and shrugs.

“I kind of don’t think there’s any avoiding it, at this point.” He mumbles. “I’m not… I’m not ready to come out, not like this. Not on this scale. I think the only thing I can do is carry on and hope it doesn’t get turned into any bigger of a deal.”

Robin hums down at him, and continues to brush his hair back out of his eyes. “Okay. So you don’t come out yet. But don’t overcompensate for it, okay?” He scrunches his face up at her, and she types something into her phone before turning it back into his face. He immediately pales, met with a photo of him out with Heidi last year. With a black eye on full display, he looks miserable behind a fake smile.

“Low blow,” he grumbles, pushing himself away from Robin to sit up beside her, and she raises her eyebrow at him, still holding the photo pointed in his direction.

“‘Maybe they won’t notice or ask why my literal teammate punched me in the face at practice if I take a fucking supermodel out to dinner.’” Robin’s imitation is a little too good, a sure sign of too much time spent together.

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it!” He asks, taking the phone off of her and closing out of the image before locking it. He drops it back into her lap with a sigh. “I just don’t know how many times I can keep getting away with hiding it.”

“Well, it helps that Billy got traded out to LA. He would be insufferable about this, and would absolutely make everything 10 times worse.” Robin muses.

Steve sighs and hesitates for a moment before dropping his head back into her lap, curling into her. “I just want it to be on my terms, when I’m ready.”

“We’ll figure it out, and it’ll all be okay, no matter what. Okay?” She assures quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

His phone dings with a new notification; Max texted him a screenshot from TikTok.

corrodedcoff!n: you’ve got yourself a deal 🤝🏻

#hockey player!steve #rockstar!eddie #Eddie Munson #Steve Harrington #Steddie #should I keep going?#lmk if anyone is interested in part 2 #anti billy hargrove #hockey au #Steddie hockey au #Steddie rockstar au #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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