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hungharrington · 1 year

Note

I can see Steve saying "When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?" to read

wet as a dream

anon babe, i'm sure this prompt is supposed to be dom energy and yet all i could read was assuring boyfriend stevie <3 so have sum softness with ur face-sitting hehe 2k words, minors do not interact, and yanno, this is exactly what the prompt suggests + a lot of lovey dovey feelings ! enjoy <3

Look, you were no stranger to sex, to say the least. It might still make you flush, an eager yet still slightly embarrassed warmth whenever you and Steve go from sweet kisses, to a hot make-out, to more…

But even then, you’re not entirely sure anything could’ve prepared for this— for Steve to murmur against your lip between his heated kisses, “I want you to sit on my face.”

You pull back from the make-out, chest huffing and your voice sounds only a tiny bit strangled when you say, “What?”

Steve takes advantage of his new view, eyes skirting up and down your face hungry with love. His eyes are warm, grin easy, like it’s no big deal when he says, “I said I want—“

“No, no,” You cut in, feeling your ears tinge warmly. “I, uh, heard you the first time.”

The image his words conjure pours into your mind, sitting on his tongue as his hands curl right around your thighs and keep you as close as he wants— while you mewl atop him, at his mercy. You shiver just a bit, desire streaking through you, and it quickly reminds you of the lap you’re sitting it, the evidence of Steve’s desire hard beneath you.

His hands haven’t moved, still resting on your sides. His thumbs swatch up and down lightly, trying to read your expression. “You don’t have to,” Steve says earnestly, brows drawing together. “But, I promise it’ll feel so good.”

That you have no doubt about. You’ve found it especially hard to stay quiet when Steve gets his mouth on you— something in the way he eats you out, with such an enthused fervor, moaning enough that you know he enjoys it too.

“That’s not what I’m worried bout.” You admit, shifting in his lap again. Your hands that have been resting on his chest fall, landing on your thighs. You avert your eyes for a moment, some old insecurities bubbling to the service — you’ve never done this before but Steve has, he’s probably done it with girls skinnier than you, with smaller thighs and—

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t, okay?” Steve interrupts your stream of prickly thoughts, moving a hand up to cradle your jaw sweetly. You meet his eyes, knowing your worry displays on your expression. His fondness soothes you.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.” Steve promises.

“You’re sure?” You check one more, anxiety getting the best of you.

Steve chuckles lightheartedly, leaning in to kiss you deeply. He pulls back an inch, scanning your face once more, looking for more hesitancy to soothe. “If you are,” he assures with another smile.

With a deep breath, you nod, aiming for sure. You think back to the steamy image your mind had provided, think back to every time Steve’s gotten between your thighs and drawn out noises out of you that you didn’t even know you could make — you want to do this.

Steve grins. He reclines himself to lie back on the bed, his hands fluttering down to ghost touches along your thighs. Another nerve trips you up.

“Can I— can I keep my skirt on?” You ask nervously, your fingers gripping the edge of your skirt.

Steve softens, grin melting into a reassuring smile. “Of course, honey. And if you want to stop, just- if you’re uncomfortable or find you don’t want to—“

“I do.” You interrupt him. “I do want to do this.”

To prove your point, you begin to work your panties down your thighs — You can feel the slick that’s pooled in them, from when you had gotten worked up from the hot kisses from Steve earlier. You feel yourself clench in anticipation of what’s coming.

It takes a moment to work them off, getting caught on your ankles awkwardly - but that awkward giggle dies in your throat at Steve’s heavy stare. You failed to notice his growing boner until you situate yourself back on his lap, in nothing but your skirt and bra, and the feel of it feeds into your lust. He wants this. He really fucking wants this.

“Okay,” you say, biting your lower lip for a moment, trying to think if there’s a sexier way to shuffle up the bed to his face. Steve let’s you get all of halfway before he pauses you, hands on your thighs again— he wants to say this when he can still see your whole face properly.

"When I tell you to sit on my face,” He starts, enjoying how your expression peaks in embarrassment once again. He grins. “I want you to sit.”

He raises his brows at you. “Is that clear?" He asks, making sure you’re both on the right page. Steve Harrington certainly did not half-ass some face-sitting.

You nod, a little relieved at his insistence and clear excitement— something delightful burns in your tummy that he wants to do this, enough to assure you to not dare hold back.

You shuffle a little higher, nerves creeping in as you hover over Steve’s face, unsure how to start. Do you just—?

The question is ripped from your mind as Steve’s arms curl up around your thighs, hands holding you firm, and he pulls you down onto his mouth. His tongue licks a bold stroke through your folds, warm and wet.

Heat plumes in your tummy, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping your lips as your head tips back — you can’t quite handle the sight of him between your thighs just yet. You know it’ll send your head spinning. Your hands hold the edge of your skirt up, just an inch or so to keep it out of his face and you try to focus on the sensations instead.

His pink lips mouth softly along your cunt, tongue soothing along as he works up to your clit — then swirls his tongue over it firmly, enough to pull a soft moan from you. You legs spread a little wider, sinking into him and you can feel the hum of approval from Steve.

“There we go,” He praises, pressing another sloppy kiss to clit. “That’s it.”

His encouragement melts into you, fiery hot, and you whine a bit, hips rocking down on his face instinctively. Pleasure twists the coil in your stomach tighter. Steve’s fingers flex against the skin of your thighs, his tongue loose and warm as he licks and suckles at your core.

Time melts and muddles as you lose yourself to pleasure, Steve dutifully giving and giving, his plush lips dragging deliciously against your clit so good that all you do is moan above him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been going, only the mounting pull in your tummy to give an indication, when Steve’s mouth begins to kiss lower and lower — until he’s aligned with your slicked entrance.

Where you might of once given a moment to embarrassment, you only feel your eagerness grow— especially as Steve releases a filthy moan against you.

“You’re so wet,” he rasps, the words doused in lust and approval. You shiver at his husky voice, a weak moan scraping out your throat when he skirts his tongue around your hole, avoiding it purposefully. You clench, and whine in complaint. Tease.

“My girl,” He hums, a few more kisses. You have no doubt you’ve soaked the bottom half of his face with your arousal— but the thought just adds to your lust. “You love this, hmm? Y’glad I ask’d?”

You’re nodding fervently, desperate for him to keep going, and a pitiful “yes” trips out your mouth. Steve chuckles, the vibrations making you keen, and your impatience gets the best of you; you rock down on him again.

Steve’s expecting it, if his tightening grip on your thighs and experienced tongue are any indication. He presses up, tongue fucking into the entrance of your cunt hotly and you can’t help how one of your hands shift down rapidly to fist in his hair.

It’s the first time you’ve properly looked down at him, between your thighs, and the sight of him so clearly enjoying himself turns your whine into a loud moan. His hair is messy, eyes slipping closed as he dedicates himself to making you fall apart on his tongue. He looks so fucking hot.

“Steve,” you whimper, tugging his hair lightly — and you receive a moan in response. He doesn’t let up, doesn’t pause for a moment as your hips move to chase your orgasm which has begun to peak over, just let’s you ride his face. Your chest heaves, every exhale painted in a moan. Every word out your mouth is a curse or his name.

“Steve,” you whine in warning and Steve’s eyes open. It’s more intimate than you’re expecting, staring down at him with his mouth on your cunt, moments from tipping over the edge- you’re beginning to sound pathetic, whines getting higher and higher. Steve shifts, tilts his head the right way and then— then his fucking nose is rubbing your clit just the right way and you’re gone.

You cry out softly, breathes shuddering as everything peaks — thighs trembling, your hand tightening it’s grip in Steve’s hair, eyes screwed close and your mouth hung open in a moan. The room feels unbearably warm as your orgasm washes over you. Steve thinks he might actually cum in his pants at the sight, especially from his vantage point between your thighs. Fuck. His cock gives a twitch in his pants.

They’ve been growing tighter and tighter, fueled by your every moan since he’s managed to convince you onto his face — and now his cock is so hard it nearly hurts. Not once had Steve considered slipping a hand down to relieve some pressure; this isn’t about him. It’s about you — and fuck, if you don’t you look beautiful cumming on his face. Twitching and moaning and falling apart on his tongue.

Steve works you through it, turning back to sloppy open mouth kisses up until you’re finally releasing his hair and shuffling back, so to slump down back in his lap. If you hadn’t just seen stars, you might notice the flicker of excitement in your tummy at Steve’s hardness beneath you. For the moment, however, you’re spent.

Steve hasn’t moved. You try to catch your breath and peer down at him. A laugh catches in your throat at the blissed out smile toying on his face — someone clearly enjoyed themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you huff approvingly. Steve’s eyes flick over to meet yours and he grins. Your slick is still on his lips, pinker than ever in the sheen of your arousal. He licks them clean. Your tummy twists up at the sight. Why is that so hot?

“Didn’t I say you’d enjoy it?” Steve hums cockily, his hands searching across the sheets to find your hips. He caresses the skin there gently.

“Mmhm,” you hum your agreement. “Don’t think I was the only one who enjoyed that though.” You tease, moving your hips down against his bulge purposefully and Steve lets out a deep groan. His hips move up beneath you.

You regrettably stop his movements with a hand on his chest. Steve watches you closely, eyes inquiring. “I’ll return the favor but, um, give me a couple minutes.”

You smile sheepishly. It dawns quickly on Steve the reason for your pause, needing a cool-off period, and his grin turns down right cheeky. His hands shift up to your wrists and he tugs your forward, capturing you in his arms and holding you against his chest. It’s warm and safe and you can’t help but melt into it, still sapped from your orgasm.

“That just means I did my job right,” Steve murmurs gleefully, pressing a kiss into your hair. He chuckles at your small uh huh and holds you tighter.

And with all his whispers of how hot you looked above him, how hard it got him, it doesn’t take very long to find the energy to return the favor.

#ok i kinda FUCK with this one #turns out the thing that turns jay on is; enthusiastic consent #i want a bitch that is SO excited to have sex with me <333 #jay writes #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #steve smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things smut

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2knightt · 3 months

Note

could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #this fic had no reason to give me this much trouble to post #fuck tumblr and it’s stupid ass updates lmfao

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lovebugism · 6 months

Note

for fictober, maybe making matching halloween costumes with steve and he says smth like "ur costume looks great" ?

ty for requesting!! — steve gets all "king steve"-y about halloween and you make him eat his words (established relationship, fluff, mentions of smut 18+, 1.3k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Lying over Steve’s bare body, you sprinkle kisses to the blossoming pink marks on his neck. He tastes clean and boyish — like the mint of his aftershave, the salt of his sweat, and the faintest hint of sex still lingering in the air.

His calloused palms smooth up and down your naked waist under the plaid comforter you lay beneath. He noses at your hair, a faint smile on his face. He never knew a person could be so content.

“Mm… Halloween’s coming up, you know?”

“Mhm?” you hum absentmindedly against his neck, continuing your gentle assault there. You don’t want him to think you’re not listening, but the taste of his skin on your tongue is much louder than the words spilling from his kissed mouth.

“We should probably come up with a costume, don’t ya think?”

Your lips smack audibly when you part from his neck. You blink at him with glassy eyes, mouth swollen and parted in bemusement. “Seriously, Steve?” you monotone. “You’re not even soft yet.”

“I know, but it’s stressing me out,” he whines, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back — looking not unlike he had just moments ago. “It’s been keeping me up a night, babe. Seriously.”

A crooked smile blossoms slowly on your lips. You shake your head with a shrug, entertaining him despite yourself. “Why don’t you and Robin dress up together?”

“Because she wanted to go as the twins from The Shining. Like a freak.”

“I personally would love to see you in a skimpy dress, all covered in blood,” you confess in a teasing inflection, though your mischievous grin is more sincere.

Steve’s features fall flat as he deadpans. “Of course you would. ‘Cause you’re also a freak.”

Your smile widens. You lean further in to kiss him with it — a firm and languid peck you try to deepen. He pulls away before you can, looking just as pained by it as you do. “Stop being hot, it’s distracting me.”

“Dress up however you want, Steve. I don’t care—”

“I care,” he insists, brows raised and eyes wild. “We have to dress up together—”

“Why?”

“‘Cause we’re a couple, and we love each other, and I…”

Your eyes narrow when he trails off. “And you what?”

He gets all awkward, flustered and shifting beneath you. One of his fidgeting hands leaves your side to swipe through his wild, sweat-damp hair. He stammers through the words, trying to figure out the best way to say them. “And I… have a reputation that… makes these things sorta important. That’s all.”

“Right,” you hum sarcastically, nodding slowly in return.

“It just takes genuine consideration, okay? What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you lilt with your head tilted to your bare shoulder. Your fingers continue to draw absentminded patterns on his scruffy chest. “I’m glad to know that my boyfriend — who graduated high school two years ago — still needs everyone’s applause to live.”

Steve meets your sweet smile with a squint. “You can’t be mean to me like that. You know it turns me on.”

Your grin grows into a more sincere expression. You peck his soft pout too quickly for him to kiss you back. You’re rolling off of him a second later. He whines at the loss of you, immediately cold without the warm weight of your naked body.

“What— where are you going?” Steve complains as you pad across the living room, still totally bare.

“Close your eyes,” you command without looking back at him.

“What?”

“Close your eyes!”

With your hand on the knob of the closet door, your glance over your shoulder to make sure he isn’t peeking. When you’re certain he’s obeyed you, you rifle through the hung clothes there. It smells like his cologne, your perfume, and an old house — domestic bliss.

You find your and his old Scoops Ahoy uniforms smashed together in the very back. The red, white, and blue sailor’s outfit sends a pang of warm nostalgia bursting in your stomach. The hanger thumps against the wall when you tug his off of it.

You look back again, finding Steve with his nose scrunched and one eye peeking open. It only confuses him more, finding you halfway hidden in your shared closet.

“Keep ‘em closed, Harrington!”

He abides, rather quickly after having been caught so suddenly. “Is this a surprise? ‘Cause I’m not mad about it, but… I’m still a little confused.”

“You’ll see…” you trail off with a mischievous inflection.

The heavy cotton of the uniform slides over you with ease, all but swallowing you whole. You roll the bright blue shorts at the hem so they aren’t as long on you, tucking the oversized top within itself just the same. The white hat sits lopsided on your head, just as wrinkled as the rest of it. Thesewn-in nametag sits just above your breast.

“Okay. Open your eyes,” you announce, finally.

Steve’s honey gaze flutters open. He’s confused at first, then shocked, then somewhat pleasantly surprised. He blinks at you for several long moments, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

You hold your arms out beside yourself, doing a little spin so he can get every angle of you. “Do you like?” you question with a knowing twinkle in your eye.

He nods until the words to answer you catch up to him. “Yeah. I like. I like very much, actually.”

It isn’t a whole lot unlike seeing you in his clothes, which has happened hundreds of times by now. His favorite sweater’s lying in a crumbled ball on the floor this very moment from where he’d pulled it off of you earlier.

But something about this drives him unusually wild.

It’s the nostalgia, perhaps. He fell in love with you at Scoops, and now you’re wearing his uniform, bare underneath it, just to appease him.

“So, there. We settled it,” you concede with a grin as you walk back to the bed again. “See how easy that was…” you trail off when you crawl back on the mattress, gravitating towards Steve like you were destined to do it.

His chin juts back when you try to kiss him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa— what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “It means I’ll go as you, and you’ll go as me.”

“But then why wouldn’t you just wear your uniform.”

“‘Cause then it wouldn’t be dressing up… I’d just be me from a year ago.”

Steve’s honey eyes remain in a puzzled squint. His chiseled features are twisted, still confused in his way. “But there’s no way I’m fitting in your uniform.”

“Yeah. It’ll be super tight, and the skirt will be super short,” you nod before a wide grin tugs slow at the corners of your kissed mouth. Your tongue peeks from behind your teeth, smile glittering with a girlish giddiness. “You’ll look like a total slut.”

Steve’s scrunched brows raise at the mischievous expression. “And I’m guessing that’s a good thing?”

You smile at your oblivious boy, cupping his face in your hands until his cheeks squish together. “Yes, Stevie. That’s a very, very good thing.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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stevie-petey · 6 months

Text

we don't talk about it (we don't have the time)

﹂ season one of “come home”

being dustin henderson's older sister and jonathan byers' best friend is usually an uneventful affair, but when will byers goes missing and a girl with a shaved head claims she has super powers, your duties as a sister and a best friend become a lot more complicated. (it also makes your feelings suddenly complicated, which you're choosing to ignore). (and steve harrington definitely isn't helping). (as usual).

episode one: the vanishing of will byers - jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

episode two: the weirdo on maple street - you use your limited psych knowledge to help a bald girl, you force jonathan to accept $20 and he's later an ass to you, steve doesn't know what a "missing" poster looks like, and it's really hard being a single mother to now four kids.

episode three: holly, jolly - you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.

episode four: the body - you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

episode five: the flea and the acrobat - you and dustin have a long overdue Sibling Moment, at will's funeral you and jonathan exchange information and surprise ! it's all horrible news ! nancy has awful timing and when you leave her alone with jonathan one damn time you and steve end up trauma bonded on her front porch #bffs.

episode six: the monster - so nancy and jonathan are a Thing now and you really just need a good nap, the three of you go shopping for monster hunting supplies (which honestly isn't the weirdest thing you've done this week), an old man sells you a sentimental knife, and steve kind of accidentally kidnaps you with a sexy black eye.

episode seven: the bathtub - your brother basically places himself on the fbi's most wanted list and el flips a van with her mind, now you have to create a giant salt tub because of course you do, nancy tries Talking About It but hasn't she read the title ? you don't have the time. sidenote: you've somehow become a steve defender during these trying times. typical. meanwhile: steve's inner thoughts are pathetic.

episode eight: the upside down - drinking game time ! take a shot every time jonathan tries ditching you or every time you almost die at the byers house, you find out that steve really is an athlete and tbh it's hot, but you know what's even hotter ? saving hawkins and reaching a tentative compromise with steve after he loans you $5 for snacks. after, jonathan makes a promise you really hope he can keep.

⌑ set between seasons 1 and 2

﹂ episode nine: the beginning - BONUS EPISODE TIME ! steve becomes bookstrorindary's favorite loyal costumer, jonathan buys you a bug for christmas, you freak out your poor coworker alex, and suddenly steve is really hot and you're feeling so many feelings (bad ! it's all bad !).

⌑ status: FINISHED

⌑ season one title based on this song x

⌑ blurbs set within "come home" can be found here x

⌑ “come home” season masterlist

*note: this is a part of my stranger things rewrite, “come home”, and other seasons can be found linked above :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things rewrite #ch season one #wdtai masterlist #m's writing

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luveline · 8 months

Note

I am humbly requesting a steve zombie au where the reader gets hypothermia hehehe😌

ty for ur humble request babe ♡ steve zombie au —steve freaks when you show symptoms of hypothermia. fem!reader 2k

"Steve, I think there's something wrong."

Steve raises his head to show he's listening, keeping his gaze on the map. You say it through shivers, sleeves pulled down over your makeshift mittens. "What's wrong, honey?"

He's noticed you aren't yourself today, and he thinks a soft tone is the least he can give you. The stupid map in his hand is tattered, creased down the middle from folding and unfolding. He thought getting to Michigan would be easy, walk in one direction and keep on, but you both need to eat and rest and the weather is too cold to go any further. He needs to find a residential, tonight.

"I feel off. I'm tired and I…" Your mumbling drifts off.

Steve shoves the map under his arm, "What? Tell me."

"Cold," you say, slurred, offering your hands. "I can't feel my fingers."

You're wearing socks over your hands, the best gloves Steve could offer. He takes them with a severe frown, unhappy when the cold of your skin permeates through. You're ice.

"And you don't feel well?" he asks, feeling up your arm to your neck.

Steve digs under the layers of your shirts, hoodie, coat, feeling for your pulse. It feels alarmingly slow. He'd never guess from looking at you how slow your heart is pumping.

Steve doesn't know everything, but he knows you're not supposed to be this cold for this long. You shiver as his fingers warm your neck, a pained hum coming from the very back of your throat as he pulls you in for a hug.

"Okay," he says, rubbing your back even though he knows it's pointless. "Don't worry. We can't stay outside anymore, huh?"

Steve aches to have to drag you down road after road, stretches of streets littered with little protection to offer. The roadside stores here are rocked by the elements, windows smashed and ceilings caving in. You're stumbling by the time a crop of houses appear in the distance, lethargic. Steve thought it was bad that you were cold, of course, but this is a more primal fear. You're not cold, you're freezing, actively freezing.

"You're okay," he says again, his gentlest reassurance. "Sweetheart, just a few more minutes. See that house, the big brown shutters? That's where we're going. Can you do it?"

"I can do it," you murmur.

"I know, but it's my turn to ask stupid questions."

Dead trees line the street, a planter of flowers by the door turned to crisps. Steve props you against a beam of wood holding up the angled porch roof and opens the screen door. He tries the handle on the interior. It's locked, a good sign.

He's admittedly feeling the adrenaline of your imminent demise. Furious with the world and circumstances and himself for letting this happen, Steve kicks the door down with three big kicks. The bang rings like a shot through the entire neighbourhood, he imagines, but there's no time to worry about it.

"You have to–" little gasp, Steve's head hurts, "have to sweep the house," you say as he pulls you inside.

If there's something in here, he has to risk it. Out of options.

He's as softhanded as he can manage dropping you into a seemingly intact couch. The room appears untouched from whoever left it, rather plush, it's a room Steve would've liked to live in.

He grabs your face. You meet his eyes, startled.

"I'm going upstairs for blankets. If something happens, you yell for me as loudly as you can. You don't have to say anything, just scream. Seriously."

"Yeah," you say breathlessly. The last street of walking and the few steps has exhausted you.

"Don't sleep," he says severely.

"No, I won't."

Steve dumps his bag on the floor. He backtracks to the porch to grab yours and wedges the splintered door closed using your bag as a temporary stopper.

You must be hypothermic, cold for days, too cold to sleep last night, and it's all Steve's fault. We can do it, he'd said, just another push. He hoped for better standing further out of Indiana. None of it will matter if you get sick.

He spins to walk up the stairs, falls weak and rushes back into the living room to check on you.

"Everything's okay," he says, taking your face again into his hands and kissing your forehead. It's purely selfish.

You touch his elbow. "I know."

Steve takes off his jacket and puts it over your lap. The house is vaguely warmer than outdoors but it's far from enough to make a difference to you. Heart in his throat, he bounds up the stairs and onto the landing, an L-shape with one bedroom straight in front and four doors on left. The smell of gore coming from the closed master bedroom explains how it could be this clean; it wasn't uncommon at the start of the apocalypse for people to lock themselves in, kill themselves and their families. He has no interest in seeing it, nor unleashing the mould spores that come with decomposition. Whatever blankets were in there are worthless now.

He takes a left and opens the door with a slam. A teenage bedroom not unlike his own back home, a simple comforter on the bed. He grabs it and tosses it on the landing, dipping into the second room. Bathroom, nothing worth having. The third room is a utility room with a jackpot of folded sheets, towels, padded quilts, and a comforter rolled into a log. He throws everything onto the floor and forgets the fourth door, arms fit to burst with fabric as he descends back downstairs.

"Steve?" you ask.

"Yep, yes. I'm here." He drops the blankets at your feet. "Are your clothes damp?"

"I think… no."

"I'd tell you to take off your jacket," he begins, shaking the biggest comforter out over you as he talks, "but I want as many layers as possible. Come here, sweetheart. Lift your back a little." He tucks you in like a pastry. "Good. Good, thank you, sweetheart."

"You're being very nice," you mumble, your eyelashes twitching like you've dimes weighing down your eyelids.

"I'm always nice."

"No," you say, your head falling back into the couch cushions. It's a family couch made of soft fabrics, not the showy leather piece you'd expect in such a mammoth lodging. "You're okay, though."

Steve piles blankets on top of you. The cold is eating at him too, his nose stiff, his hair standing on end as gooseflesh ripples over his arms.

When you've been sufficiently sandwiched, he feels your face again. You're already warmer, his hand creeping down into your shirt to feel for your pulse. Ropey.

"Sweetheart, I need you to try and perk up," he says, rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

"Not feeling perky."

"Ah, but you're always perky. You're my sun, 'cos I'm so awful," he says, panic lining his plea. "You are. I'm going to make you something hot to eat."

"Hot air?" you ask, slinking further down into your hump of sheets.

"I think we might be in luck."

He speaks too soon, really. The cupboards are lackluster. The can of soup he'd been hoping to find doesn't materialise. But there's a small can of ravioli, enough salted fish to make any tom cat happy, and a jug of water beneath the sink. He looks at it and sighs in relief. You have two litres of rainwater in your bag, and that had been the rations. This is one less thing to worry about.

Steve makes sure that there kitchen door and the patio doors in the lonely dining room are locked, taking a big cooking pot from the pantry (depressingly empty bar a bag of sugar spilled on its side and a sack of grain) and a saucepan from atop the stove. He checks the gass but he's never that lucky, resigning himself to a typical campfire when it doesn't work.

"Steve, put it back on," you say as he comes back in, your eyes a little wider, slightly more alert. You've pulled your arms out from under the blankets, with his jacket in your hands.

Steve has kissed you before. You haven't talked about it out loud —he'd like to think a lot has been said in hand-holding, in spooning, and in you hand carding through his hair. He's eager to kiss you again, dumping his findings to hold your wrists. "Thank you," he says, kissing you clumsily, your lips cold. "Now put your arms in. I'll pull the blankets up."

"Can you kiss me again?"

"I'm trying to make you some hot water."

"I'm warm enough already. Please?"

Steve kisses you again. This time, he closes his eyes, puts his hand against your jaw. The sound of your lips pressing to his seems loud in the quiet.

He pulls away with a final peck. "Are you feeling warmer?"

You blow breath up your face. "Bet so."

Steve rolls his eyes and turns away to make a campfire in the stolen pot. He'll boil some water in the saucepan for you to hold like a risky hot water bottle, and make some warmed ravioli. It'll be sweet. And tomorrow, if you're feeling better, he'll scavenge for supplies in the neighbourhood. Tonight, he'll burn the kitchen chairs. They don't need them anymore.

"Settle in," he says, opening his backpack for the fire starters and matches. "We'll stay for a while, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Sorry for the fuss."

"Are you kidding?" He can't look at you. He'll probably cry. "It's cold. You were cold, and we didn't– I knew your coat wasn't good enough but I just thought… well, it's my fault. It is. And I– I care about you so much," —he says it in a rush, true but unused to admitting his feelings to you or anyone— "I can't do this without you. I'll take better care of you, I swear. It won't happen again."

"You know what would really warm me up?" you ask.

Steve turns on his heel. "Let me make you something to eat."

"Not hungry, just cold."

Steve tamps down a giddy smile into one more respectable. "Let me feel your pulse," he relents, lifting the heavy layer of blankets to climb inside. Its roasting, the warmest he's felt in weeks, and your arm is alive as he slides into your side.

He puts his hand against your neck, waiting for a steady bump.

"Am I cured?" you ask.

Steve sighs in relief. "You're cured."

You wrap your arms around him. Life with you and in this situation is an endless rise and fall. Something shitty happens, you scrape by, and, as a victory, he gets to hug you in the end.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve asks.

"You just said I was cured, Steve," you mumble, digging your face into his shoulder. "Just. Stay here. Keep feeling me up."

"Not what I'm doing."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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pettydollie · 19 days

Text

♡.˚ ୨୧ ｡˚ ♡.˚ boyfriend best friend - bsf!chris x reader

a/n: @sydneysturniolooo, sorry for getting this out so late :c and a special thank you to @imtalkinnonsense and @thebottledwatersupplier for beta reading :)

summary: your best friend chris doesn't understand boundaries, but neither do you. sometimes he feels more like a boyfriend than your actual bf.

warnings/notes: cursing, established relationship with an oc (steve), bsf!chris, ur kinda oblivious, lowercase intended, mentions of sex wc: 1.3k

this party bites. you stand next to your boyfriend in the kitchen, holding an almost empty red cup. his arm is wrapped around your shoulders as he converses with some friends. you boredly swish your drink around in the cup awkwardly. the music playing isn't your taste and you'd much rather be at home with your boyfriend, steve, in your bed where you're comfortable.

your empty hand fidgets with the bottom of your pink skirt, waiting for the trite conversation to wrap up. your disinterested stare picks up from the floor when you hear your name being called by the one voice you can have true fun with. your eyes brighten almost immediately, a toothy smile forming on your face. a dopey grin plastered on his, he waves his hand as he makes his way over to where you stood.

steve's discussion comes to halt when he scoffs at the boy's appearance. chris doesn't even spare him a glance. instead, he gives you a kiss on the cheek as greeting, swatting away steve's arm from where it was resting. you kiss back, your lipgloss leaving a small sticky stain on his left cheek. "hey chris! uh, you remember steve." you smile and turn to your boyfriend who simply nods in greeting. chris' smile falters a little, just a little. he chuckles, "yeah, hey big guy."

his eyes turn back to you, then down to your cup. he grabs it from you, holding it out to steve. "her drink's almost done. go get her a refill, man." steve lets out a small exasperated sigh, taking the cup and muttering, "i'll be right back." chris gives a fake smile as he watches him leave with his buddies. "take as long as you need." he exclaims, winking.

you lean against the kitchen counter. "sooo, i thought you weren't coming..?"

he coughs, scratching the back of his head, the bottom of his black tank lifting up with his arm. "err- well, matt told me you were going. and we haven't hung out in like a week so yknow.." you nod along. he chuckles, shaking his head before continuing. "you looked like you were fucking dead anyhow. thought i'd be your knight in shining armor." he jokes, casually ruffling your hair.

you groan, "ugh, yes, thank you. steve's friends aren't exactly my type of people, i guess." you laugh dryly. he nods along, looking at you up and down. "well, princess, you look fabulous, as always." he compliments your simple look with a soft boyish smile. you sweetly return his smile and reply, "thank you" in a shy tone.

"yknow," chris leans against the counter so he's right next to you, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours. your head turns, watching him as he looks down at his dirty sneakers. "it's been like what- a week since you and i hung out? what're you doin' after the party?" he lifts his head to look into your shameful eyes.

"'m goin' on a date with steve.. 'm sorry."

chris chuckles in response with his eyes widening curiously. ”a date?? oh sweet, are you guys finally going somewhere besides Denny’s?” he smirks. you purse your lips, seeing steve walking towards you guys. you turn back to chris' waiting eyes. you shrug, mildly embarrassed. "we're just going for ice cream." pfft, as if it's any better than denny's.

he lets out a clearly not surprised "oh" as soon as your boyfriend stops right infront of you. he holds out the red cup to you. "here, babe." you take it and thank him before looking into the cup unsuspectingly. you clear your throat. "oh um.. this isn't punch?" you look up with a confused frown, in search of an explanation.

he nods slowly. "yeah.. i just thought maybe you'd like to try-"

chris' laugh cuts him off. steve turns with a raised eyebrow. before he can even ask what's so funny, chris holds up his hand. "try? she doesn't drink, moron." he snatches the cup out of your hand, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. you swallow hard. "it's okay.. really it is, but yeah, i don't think i wanna.."

steve rolls his eyes. chris scoffs, pouring the drink out into the sink next to him. your boyfriend simply folds his arms, unfazed. "fine, whatever." he grabs your chin. "they're setting up the kegs in the back. come watch me, kay?" he kisses your lips gently, not even giving you time to respond. he smiles and walks to the backyard.

"that shit is so immature." your best friend giggles, his small silver hoops swinging from his ears as he laughs. you let out a small sigh. he hums, "hey." he gets off the counter, bringing his hands up to cup your face. you giggle against his veiny hands. "how are you, peach? you good?" he asks in a serious voice, not playing around about your well-being. you blink slowly, your eyelashes prettily fluttering. "'m good." you whisper.

he raises both eyebrows. "this baboo- uh, is he making you happy? and no horseshit."

"yeah." you blandly respond with squished lips from the pressure. he drops one of his hands to his side. you lean into the one left on your face, your eyes shutting tiredly. he stares at you for a few seconds like you're an angel sent from heaven just for him. he's fighting the urge to kiss your glossy pout because he then remembers steve's waiting for you.

"ya guy's waitin', ma." he reminds you, tapping your cheek. you open your eyes and nod quickly. you grab your hand and begin walking to the backyard, pushing past the people with a quiet "excuse us" as you drag chris through the house.

minutes later, you're sitting on the grass criss crossed next to chris. your boyfriend stands in front of one of the kegs as he gets hyped up by his group of friends. someone yells out, "remember the rules, boys," and explains the rules quickly. "alright, 3... 2... 1!"

you don't really pay attention to who's winning as you rest your head sleepily against chris' shoulder. his arm wraps around you, his fingers playing with your gorgeous hair. you blink slowly, trying to stay awake. but it's hard since you're so comfortable in chris' embrace. you wanted to mention something that's been on your mind before drifting off.

"yesterday he told me to have sex with him." you mumble loud enough so only chris could hear. he can't help but let out a chuckle. he readjusts himself to look down at you. "so.. was he good?" he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, though he knows you wouldn't. not his precious angel.

you roll your eyes with a grin. "i told him i wasn't ready. then he got all upset. i dunno why, i've told him multiple times that i'm not ready. he's just so impatient." you whine at the end. you look ahead as people cheer and smack steve's opponent on the back. clearly your boyfriend lost, anyone could see by the annoyed look on his face. you scrunch up your nose at the sweat and beer dripping from his mouth down to his chest.

chris hums, still twirling a piece of your hair with his long fingers. "he just has to deal with it. tell him to watch porn or somethin'."

you laugh, but it stops when steve glares your way. or more so, chris' way. you cough and sit up, brushing some grass of your skirt. chris turns his head towards him and rolls his eyes. "dunno why he gets so pressed all the time. you and i've been friends for years so what the fuck is his deal?"

you hum quietly, shrugging carelessly. chris sucks in a breath for a moment, hesitating on asking you a question. he sees steve walk back inside with his group, probably going to get even more shitfaced. but thats not his problem. a few seconds of silence pass before chris decides to speak up. "well, if you like.. weren't totally comfortable doing it with him, you could with me?"

your eyebrows raise as your eyes widen. he raises his hands up in defense, "nonono, not like in a weird way." he chuckles dryly. "it'd just be so you're prepared, yknow? and anyhow, he doesn't know you're a virgin soo.."

he does raise a good point, you must admit. you twirl a piece of your hair in your manicured fingers, biting your lip softly. he is an experienced guy, you know from all the stories he told you at your sleepovers. but what if you don't wanna have sex with chris just for steve's benefit? you innocently lick your lips before looking into your best friend's stunning blue eyes.

tags!! <3 @leah-loves-lilies @imtalkinnonsense @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸

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roanniom · 7 months

Note

since ur on a plane its only right to request mile high club with steve x reader ‼️‼️🔥🔥✈️

Up in the Clouds

Businessman!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, public sex/plane sex, fingering, a lil sugar daddy-ing from Steve but there’s no arrangement, he just likes showering you with gifts cuz he can

You’d never flown first class before. In fact, you’d rarely flown at all. That all changed when you started dating Steve Harrington. Notorious playboy Steve Harrington loved the finer things in life - expensive booze, beautiful women, fast cars, exotic places, and first class tickets.

That’s how you find yourself sequestered in the little pod that surrounds your two expensive seats. A blanket covering your lap as his hand lazily plays between your legs. Your skin feels hot and your brow furrows as you watch his smug grin widen along with the way your lips quiver and part.

“Steve, we shouldn’t. Not here…” you whisper, but he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“This is the best place for this, honey. Trust me.”

He uses his free hand to pass you your glass of champagne and you take it. When he nods you take a sip, letting the bubbles burst on your tongue just as Steve begins circling your clit with more pressure.

“Feel that? The altitude? The champagne? When you cum you’ll feel higher than the clouds we’re in, baby.”

You bite your lip to suppress the moan that wants to burst from your your throat. He’s right. You’re not sure if it’s the altitude or the alcohol or the fact that your new boyfriend is whisking you away on a trip or the fact that any flight attendant walking by could possibly hear you. But you feel electrified, dangling on the edge of an orgasm that is going to rocket you into outer space.

“Aw don’t hold out on me, honey, that’s no fair,” Steve pouts when he sees the way you are keeping yourself from letting go. “I don’t deny you anything, do I?”

He doesn’t. As is evidenced by the sparkling necklace swaying between your breasts and the gorgeous lace panties that he’s currently stretching and which is drenched with your slick.

“Steve. Oh Steve,” you whisper, making him beam at you.

“Feels good, I know. It’ll feel even better when you let go,” he coos his promise honey sweet, just like his nickname for you. “And when we get to the hotel, I’ll make you cum on my cock till the sun comes up. How about that?”

That’s the promise that does it. He knows what his cock does to you, feeling you clench around his fingers at the very thought before you’re spawning in his grasp, spilling champagne over yourself.

When you finally come down from the high, it’s to the feeling of Steve licking champagne off the tops of your breasts and the valley of your cleavage.

“So sweet, honey.”

“Thank you, Stevie,” you breathe. Just the same as you did when he gifted you the necklace and lingerie. He kisses his way up the column of your throat to bestow a lazy, lascivious kiss to your face waiting mouth.

“Welcome to the Mile High Club, babe,” he whispers against your lips. He leans back and smirks with a grunt when he feels your hand tentatively grip him through his pants. He’s rock hard, heavy and hot behind the luxe designer fabric.

“Oh. Want me to join you in the clouds, honey? Don’t mind if I do.”

~*~

Thanks for reading. Please comment and reblog to let me know what you think!!!

#steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #steve Harrington x reader #issa’s flying morning

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witchwyfe · 2 years

Text

touch tank | sh

| pairing: steve harrington x female reader

| précis: kissing ur best friend, friends 2 lovers, cursing, kissing, weed/smoking mention

| word count: 1,080

| an: y’all this SONG

“You know what would be like so weird?” You wonder, training your gaze on Steve’s ceiling fan.

“Huh?” He wonders, shoulder nudging yours.

His duvet is familiar under your back, the scent of his sheets and blankets more comforting than your own room. The warmth from his body bleeds into your own, radiating from his shoulder and hip, where he’s touching you. There’s not a person in the world you feel more comfortable around, safer. And maybe that’s the reason you don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with him.

“If we kissed.”

There’s a beat of silence, and your heart rate picks up slightly.

He swallows roughly, turning to look at you. You’re still looking up, waiting for him to say something.

“Did you smoke something earlier?” He wonders. “I thought Eddie couldn’t hang out today?”

“Steve!” You protest, sitting up just to shove at his shoulder. “No, I didn’t. Shut up.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” You mimic, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say sweetheart? You said you didn’t smoke, I believe you.”

“Oh my god!” You groan, flopping back down onto the mattress. “Not about that, about what I said…before that.”

“That we should kiss?”

You nod, humming in affirmation. “Just to see what’s it’s like, you know?”

“Okay.” He says slowly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” You rush out. “I just thought, I don’t know it could be like…fun.” You regret your word choice immediately, and embarrassment is seeping through your pores and you look down at your lap, twisting your fingers together cruelly.

“Fun?” Steve laughs humorlessly. “Bug, if you want to have fun we can watch a movie, I can take you roller skating, or—”

“I didn’t mean to say fun!” You groan, shutting your eyes. “Just, do you want to or not?”

You know you’re not being entirely fair. It’s an out-of-the-blue ask, and it’s not as if you’re asking a simple favor either.

“So, kissing me wouldn’t be fun?” He scoffs half-heartedly.

“Steve.” You groan dramatically. “Just forget I said anything okay?”

“Hey, no.” He says softly, turning over to face you. “Babe, do you want me to kiss you?” He murmurs, warm breath at the side of your face.

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not.” He says sincerely. “If you want to kiss me, you should do it.”

You sit up slowly and he does the same. Steve sits back against his headboard, legs spread slightly.

“C’mere babe.” He says softly. His nerves buzz wildly under his skin, sweat pricking at the back of his neck. He’s been dying to kiss you, has been forever, and he’s trying not to pass out from nerves.

You shuffle forward on your knees until your straddling his waist, the bare skin of your thighs brushing against his jean-clad ones.

“We’ve been friends forever, it’s not weird.” You breathe, trying to convince yourself more than Steve.

“Not weird at all.” He grins. “Friends kiss all the time.” His palm slides underneath your jaw, stopping at your cheek, warm skin against yours. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning over your lips, goosebumps rising on your arms.

“Come on baby,” He coos, angling his face towards yours, but waiting for you to make the final move.

You inch forward slowly, gone is the confidence you’d possessed when you asked the question that got you into this situation. Finally, your lips meet his, and a wave passes over you, something strong and sparkly.

Steve groans into your mouth, a sound you greedily snatch up, edging your tongue to part his lips. Your mouth is sweet and sticky, like honey, Steve’s chasing your lips, lip gloss a mess between the two of you.

When you pull back, there’s more sparkly pink on his mouth than yours, and you’re smiling impossibly big, all happy and cute, Steve thinks.

“That was good, that was fun,” You say coyly.

“Little more than fun I’d say.” Steve grins wolfishly, hands falling to your hips when he notices you trying to scoot off of his lap.

“Shut up,” You whine playfully, falling forward onto his shoulder. His hand immediately comes to your back, fingers tracing up and down your spine.

You slump against his form, body fully relaxing against his own. “Steve?” You wonder softly, words muffled by his shoulder. “You know someone asked me on a date tonight.”

He seizes up, posture stiffening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Stop. Before you get all jealous, it doesn’t matter because I said no.”

“Why?”

“Because we had plans tonight. I wanted to see you.”

“So why tell me at all?” He pouts.

“Because, you idiot,” You grumble, pulling away from his shoulder. “I’m trying to make a point.”

“Which is?” You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss away Steve’s confused pout. He’s incredibly endearing but in this moment you want him to understand what you’re telling him.

“Someone asked me on a date. But I said no, because I wanted to be here with you.” You explain slowly.

“Oh.” Recognition flashes in his eyes and you grin.

“Yeah, oh.”

You shuffle forwards on his lap, looking down at him as you settle your hands on his shoulders.

“You’re my favorite person in the world. I want to kiss you again.”

He swallows harshly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Y-yeah, I think you should.” He practically croaks, desperate to feel you again. You roll your eyes playfully before leaning down, nudging his nose with yours before meeting his lips.

He’s rougher this time, lips hot and quick against your own. Large palms encase your face gently, a juxtaposition to the feeling on your mouth. You’re close enough to feel Steve’s racing heart against your chest, feeling almost as if they’re paired up, along with the mingling of your breath.

“You’re so,” He pulls away, lips a millimeter away and chest heaving. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You groan at his words, fingers threading through messy chocolate locks to tug him closer. “You’re really pretty too, Stevie.”

Heat rises on his cheeks and the back of his neck, his hands twisting in your sweaty, rumpled t-shirt. He’s lost in you, entranced by how you feel, how you smell, and how you taste.

“Friends who kiss huh?” You joke weakly, voice heavy with desire. You laugh into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip, shutting you up with another kiss.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things oneshot #fic: touch tank

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stvharrngton · 1 year

Note

okay u gotta hear me out on this one, cus I have no idea how to put it into words properly BUT

know how in a lot of fanfic and shit theres always the trope of reader being super loud with moans or that kinda thing? well.. well.

Steve/Eddie with maybe a best friend or s/o who's noises during sex are like, the breathy, high-pitched breaths out kinda thing? like sorta whines and full on whines and the whole "wow that moans gonna be so loud but I dont wanna breathy-whine-moan louder than I already am so im gonna have to breathe this moan in and swallow it until it comes out as a closed mouth whimper" like embarrassed that theyre actually being loud (so many ppl have to get off as silent as they can and I can just imagine reader being used to having to be quiet in sexual moments cus who wants to get caught touching themselves lmaoo like idk its just a very untouched, real trope)

like the breathy moan-whines that make ur eyebrows knit up together like ur almost in pain?? like so breathy idk how to get this across bro I hope u get me, like reader being so into it still

idk I have a feeling that it'd be different to what theyre use to and the first time they hear it theyre like.. all blood just rushes south no thoughts.

im a sucker for the Not In A Relationship Yet trope cus the pining is good but they somehow hear u like that ^^^^^ and its like the straw that broke the camels back - they gotta make you make those sounds asap

bonus points for when they try and give you so much that you actually end up letting a standard-regular moan out instead of ur whimpery- breathy - sweet - overwhelmed noises

i totally get you babe dw

i feel like either with eddie or steve maybe you’re best friends so obvs they know where you keep the spare key under that plant pot outside your house and yeah you were expecting them to drop by later but not until later and you’re feeling a little frustrated a little pent up and you’re home alone so why not take it into your own hands right? but you’re so into it and making yourself feel so good that you don’t even register the sound of the door going or the sound of someone climbing the stairs and then they hear it. that sweet moan you let out as you edge closer to your orgasm and they all but stop in their tracks, cheeks flustered and mouth hanging agape as they keep listening cause they can’t possibly stop listening to you moan as you get yourself off from the other side of the door

i feel like when you and steve finally get together and you start getting intimate you maybe hold your moans back a little still, cause you know you can get loud but you don’t wanna embarrass yourself and get all flustered in front of steve but this time he’s fucking you so good, so deep, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock all up in your guts and it’s just too much. so you moan. and you moan loud and it catches you off guard a little as your skin heats up and your eyes bug out of your head but like. it just riles steve up even more, makes him even more cocky and confident than he is around you. chucking at the sound he smirks at you, cupping your face as he says to you ‘oh, was that good, baby? you like that?’ and ‘such a good girl, where’ve you been hiding that all this time, huh?’ and ‘moan so sweet, angel, could listen to you all fuckin day’

but eddie is a little different i think. maybe he’s fucking you from behind, body bent as he presses your chest down into the mattress, but keeps your hips raised enough for him to fuck into them. your loud moans thankfully being muffled by the pillow but eddie’s had enough, so he wraps his fingers in your hair and pulls you up towards his chest, his fingers loosely wrapping around your throat as his hips snap against yours still and he’s all like ‘come on, sweetheart, i wanna hear it, know you can’ and then when you finally do moan all high pitched and loud he’s all ‘oh, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s what i like to hear’ and ‘y’sound so pretty, now was that so hard? gonna make you scream’

😵‍💫

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington reader #steve harrington headcanon #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanon #scratchietella #asks #k.bc

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lxstfuck · 2 years

Note

Prompt: Teasing and eventually taking care of sub!eddie while he’s hiding from Jason and his gang, like telling him you know he couldn’t have hurt anyone cuz he’s your good boy, going down on him and eventually riding him to relieve his stress. Poor baby is so scared but the reader helps him forget even if it’s just for a little while 😵‍💫

Rolling, yelling and moaning a little.

You wish is my command dearie!

Stress free; Sub Eddie Munson x Dom fem reader

Tags: Little mommy kink (Eddie calls reader mommy twice), Aftercare duh!,dom Fem reader, sub Eddie, little bit of dacryphilia implied and lots of praise! S4 spoilers and changes since it's needed, i added a little titty play cuz he adores titties and your a bad bitch, unprotected sex (wrap it babes!), Cumming inside.

A/n: Just a little FYI you smoke and your not a little bitch nah! You do have piercings and ur tiddies are pierced and he absolutely loves it! That's it!

He was scared. No. He was terrified. You were the first person he talked to. He was so scared that sometimes he would threaten you. Eventually, Dusting and some other kids that Dustin said were friends. Still, you didn't trust anyone, not even the girl that was called Robin. You threatened Steve with a cracked bottle and when you glanced at your boyfriend, and he nod, you let them go.

They explained quickly that Eddie was in danger -but you knew that already- of course you knew this beforehand but still frowned at this. You wanted to help him. You'd give your life to protect him. But for now, you could only help him by staying by his side and caress him.

Not long after they left and promise to keep in touch Jason's gang came by. You were smoking a normal cigarette but you seriously doubted they knew the difference. So as soon as they saw you, long sweater and baggy pants, cigarette in hand they approached you.

“Where's your freaky boyfriend, L/N” You smirked, a shit eating grin that made them question what was so funny. “I know you know where he is or is he here with you?”

He kept questioning until you got bored and threw the cigarette on the grass, stepping on it with unnecessary force. Exhaling the last bit of smoke left in your mouth you licked your lips and raised your head and crossed your arms.

“I don't know where he is.” another boy you didn't really know raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed? My parents too.” you laughed at your own joke. “Trust me blondie. I wouldn't tell you even if i knew. Now," you clapped once, remarking your point. “I'm trying to get high and from what I see you're looking for an excuse to assert the little of dominance you have here so get out of I'll start kicking ass while smoking again.” Jason wouldn't dream of facing you.

No one would face you. You lived near Eddie and Max and for your own sake you had to learn to fight. You were in the fight club and you were one of the best so far. Your technique was always aggressive and cold.

“Go. Leave. Bye!" You yelled as they muttered something and left slowly. You cussed them and when you were sure they left you went back inside.

What awaited you was a curled up Eddie hiding in a corner as he covered his mouth. Almost like he was in a horror movie and he was about to get eaten by the monster. Maybe it felt like that to him. But to you, he was just a little cat that was scared. You believed him right from the start. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Even if the story came off as weird and rather fantasy like, you believed him.

“They're gone my cute wizard" He looked at you at the nickname to see you with a soft smile plastered on your face.

He cautiously stood up and hugged you. He towered over you but you still hugged him back and rubbed his back. Reassuring him everything will be fine.

“Do you really think i did that?" his voice was cracking and even if he looked the prettiest when he cried, you didn't want to see him cry right now. Not for this reason at least. “Promise i didn't do it..." He kept rambling about how he would never hurt her and telling the story over and over again. You kissed him softly to shut him. It worked like a charm.

“Of course you didn't do anything Eddie” your tone was soft, sincere and this Eddie noticed. “You're such a good boy. You would never do anything wrong". He sighed at this and you say in a corner and he sat in front of you. “Hmm?"

“I am? M' a good boy?” He questioned and you knew he needed this reassurance and when he leaned in to kiss your neck softly you knew where this was going so you played with his hair as he sighed and slid his cold hands inside the sweater.

A little later, the sweater was nowhere to be found, maybe on the floor, maybe stuck somewhere nearby. Your breast were exposed and he looked at you, a little plea in his eyes. You nod softly, putting your hands in his hair and caressing it as softly as you could. Brushing it gently and feeling his relax little by little. His big and calloused hands cupped your breast and his lips attached to the left one, sucking, kissing and sometimes biting. He felt the cold metal of something in his mouth and then he realized, you had your piercing on. Lord knows he tries! He tries so hard to not bite it roughly. But he loves you and he loves that piercing.

“What's wrong Ed?" you call him out. A whisper and he can't help but whine when your hand snaked to his pants and palmed him through them. “Come on babe, tell me what you want”. It might've come up as mean, maybe a little teasing. But in reality you were helping him voice his desires.

“Mommy...” He voiced, head thrown back and eyes shut. His hips were going up unconsciously. “Mommy please wanna feel you” he pleas as you stand up to take off your pants, slowly, teasing, on leg after the other. You were left only in pantys. A cold breeze made you shiver as you ordered him to take off his clothes too. You put your sweater under him so he wouldn't sit on the floor and get hurt. After all you were taking care of him.

Once undressed he looked at you. Your legs were one at each side of him and your last piece of clothing was long forgotten s you took it off when he was undressing. You touched his dick, he was already hard, sensitive and ready to cum. You lowered you hips, his dick just touching your folds but never entering. You did this a few times only for him to say your name over and over, begging you to let him cum. And who were you to say no to him?

Finally, you lowered your hips, finally letting him enter you completely. You sighed. God he felt so warm inside, so perfect. Fit for him. His hands traveled to your breasts once again and he pulled you closer so he could suck on them as you bounced on top of him. The wet noises whenever he was almost completely out and you harshly thrusted yourself on him plus the loud smacks of skin to skin made it all sensual.

“Good boy Eddie. Doing so good for me” You praise in between moans and breathy sighs. He deserved that praise. He needed it too. And you were willing to give it to him.

He still had his face buried in your chest as he grunted and moaned your name like a broken record. Over and over again you named would be thrown around and it mixed perfectly with the lewd sounds that filled the room.

“That feel good honey?” You manage to ask as he nod, you felt him drool on you and you chuckled, almost tired due to the movements. But you weren't going to stop until he had released. “Whatcha say if you cum in me?" you question and this seemed to catch his attention because he started thrusting up roughly. You took that as an affirmative answer. “The do so, baby. Cum in me. My dear baby". You held onto him and pulled his hair a bit as you moaned praises into his ear until you felt him fill you. The feeling was so intense that it made you cum as well. Your breathing was heavy and you knew you were both dirty. Still, you guys needed to clean up. You managed to get outside and cum was going down your leg. You smiled when his air caught up.

“Lets go take a shower mmk? I'll help you get washed” he nod and he looked at the sweater you had. It was messy, dirty. “Don't worry, I'll just have one the spare shirts you keep here. Or I'll call Robin to bring me one".

“No. Have mine". He muttered and you couldn't help but kiss him. You put on your underwear and pants. Threw on his shirt and walked to turned on the shower. You were willing to do it all over again if it meant getting his pretty head off the situation for a few minutes at least.

!The art isn't mine! I just did the banner, credits to whoever made it.

HERE YA GO! It took me two days but it's here! Hope you like it!

Have a request? Tell me about it!

#sub stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things #sub eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie smut #eddie munson #dom reader

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writeshite · 2 years

Note

it’s ur fellow anon here. !!

just wanted to request bratty!sub!steve harrington x dom!male reader smut!

steve wants to be a brat to y/n abt something stupid, so be it. he gonna get punished tho 😏

I’d really appreciate it if you responded, but ik u might be busy. much love🫶🏽

Guilty As Charged

Summary:

Well, as it turns out, in this relationship between you and Steve, Steve is what the cultured man would call a sub, now you were a calm dom, and while he appreciated the careful adoration and slow pace you set, Steve personally loved it more when you laid into him rough. And what is the best way to get what he wants? Channel his inner shithead, and drive you up the wall, which is precisely why Steve is currently spread across your lap and doing his best to piss you off.

Pairings:

Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Tags:

Bratty Sub!Steve Harrington | Dom!Reader | Smut | Biker!Reader | Cockwarming

Words: 675

Author's Note:

I made Reader a biker because I can and I'm sorry this turned out short 😅

Steve is a careful-ish guy; he’s smart; he knows if you push someone’s buttons far enough, they’ll snap. It happened with Nancy back when he was the biggest douche to grace this side of Indiana. Granted, he also has the self-preservation instincts of a newborn calf, considering he did sort of fall head first - literally - into you when you rocked up to Scoops Ahoy. Now seeing a biker - denim jacket, tattoos, scary demeanor, and all - rock up to an ice cream shop is an experience, especially when said biker makes you feel things. You can bet Steve jumped you the first chance he got - behind the counter during closing times - but you might ask, what does that have to with pushing people’s buttons?

“Babe, quit it,” you sternly said, “I’m trying to concentrate.”

Steve, being the bastard that he is, decides that isn’t enough of an incentive to stop; instead, he stands, swipes your homework away, and lies across the table. “The report’s due in a week,” he whines. When you still ignore him, he grabs your stationary and shoves it away before pocketing anything else you try and get. You placed your arms on the table and leaned down, “You’re playing a dangerous game there, Harrington.”

“Am I?” He asks flirtatiously, propping one leg up, “What are the rules? And what do I get for breaking them?”

You grab his leg and drag him to the edge of the table; he sits himself up, arms winding around your shoulders; Steve tilts his neck, and you hover along the skin there, placing the barest of touch. Something that slowly begins to drive Steve insane as he tries to drag you closer for more, but you keep your distance. Finally, you do as Steve anticipates, closing the space; you bite his neck lightly when the first hickey is down, and Steve is in bliss; you flip the script and shove him, face down, onto the table. Leaning by his ear, you chuckle cruelly, “You want to behave like a brat; I’ll treat you like one.”

“Arms out front, legs spread,” you command, “Now!”

Steve feels the red creeping in when he follows your orders, his pants come down, and he yelps when your hand makes contact with his skin. “Count.”

“Ouch! One, two, three….ouch!” He starts off rocky but doesn’t get any better as each hit gets more painful than the last; you get as far as fifteen, and Steve is clinging to the edge of the table. He looks at you over his shoulder, and you smile, hitting him one more time.

“Look at that; have I rendered the great Steve Harrington speechless?”

Steve groans, “No…just….” you don’t let him finish; pushing back onto the table, you yank at his dick.

“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” you grin, “See, that report needs to be done, so you’re gonna sit real quiet until I finish, got it?”

He grumbles something under his breath, though that’s taken back when you yank his cock again, “Ye–yes—”

“Good boy,” you sit back, unzipping your pants, and patting your lap, when he’s got you whole dick inside him, he shuffles and whimpers. You pull back whatever papers you can reach and carry on with your work, as Steve lies his head against the table, groaning and complaining all the while. “Now you sit there, and keep quiet."

End Note:

I'm getting to the other asks in my inbox just gimme a minute 😅 Stay Hydrated.

#steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #shiterequests

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hungharrington · 8 months

Note

i would uh.. like to put my own little menace!steve in bed thoughts out here.. they will make ZERO sense and will be all jumbly n gross but it’s like midnight n i have to be up at 6am so BE KIND <3

as someone who is 100% very shy/extra nervous at first, no noise, trying to mask facial expressions and hide parts of my body. this type of reader especially?? oh ho ho

menace!steve doubles as sorta loving!perv!steve. he can and will fantasise abt cumming on ur tummy and move his way up the best he can - still cumming - until he shoots some onto ur boobs as well. on his come down, all out of breath and smiling with his eyes closed, he can’t wait to open em and see ur blushy, shocked little face, and ropes across ur chest, across ur tummy, maybe he even dribbled some across ur pussy cus he didn’t time it right and shot a bit early (no complaints)

menace!steve who is all slow thrusting with his entire body, borderline begging u to take the big shirt off, he wants to see you all bare so bad.. he’s naked and skin on skin would feel so much better for u baby! steve who, when little noises do embarrassingly slip out, he lights up, copies em; he’ll nudge ur nose with his as ur eyes try and screw shut from embarrassment, his own eyebrows knit up in mocking and his pout mirroring the one he saw, all oh did that feel good sweetheart? oh, it felt so good right there, huh? look at me, look at me.. look at me, or im gonna make u cum.. right now.. so close to me, make u cum with my face so close to urs huh? with his hand trailing down towards ur clit threateningly (because the only thing more embarrassing than making noises like what u just made, would be cumming so quick and hard and probably very noticeably lmaoo)

menace!steve who notices that u like him beefy and hairy. imagine him laying in bed while ur getting ready, and he’s shirtless???? with the covers bunched over his hips, n he just busts out some little quip about how he’s been dreaming about u cumming on his chest so bad. wants to make u ride it, but he doesn’t think he’d be able to have ur pussy that close to his mouth without tugging u up onto his tongue. ur stood there with ur hair tie half done, frozen, bc he looks so nonchalant saying that with his huge biceps crossed over his chest.

menace Steve who wants to simultaneously cum inside u, suck it out, sloppily spit it down ur tits and into ur mouth and makeout, JUST AS MUCH as he’d want to cum inside and then not move. breeding kink menace Steve’s brain goes wee-woo-wee-woo empty when he sees u eyeing his cock when it leaks pre-cum. the man just cannot have his dick in ur mouth, he’s so serious he wants to make every drop count, but he also makes u want it so bad that whenever he gets the vibe that u just need it/need him, u come back into whatever room ur in to see him stripping. he’s so fucking coy abt it too, just shrugs and waves his hands for a second like duhh?? get with the program..

LMAOOO out of left field, but menace!steve who maybe does smthn mundane, like ur pipe breaks (i am NOT a plumber I don’t know what im talking abt), but while he’s down there, laid with his head in the cabinet tinkering around, he tries to role play a ‘oh no my pipes burst and oh? hunky plumber man came to fix it!’ porno scenario. but he doesn’t tell u. just works himself up and lets himself get so noticeably hard that ur like.. are u alright stevie?? n he just has to tell u to pls for the love of god ride him like he’s just some maintenance guy n ur just a hot babe who needs some good dick. take it from him - he’ll keep working (n if it’s a reader who like previously mentioned, isn’t at that point yet.. yea icl I’d do it. don’t judge me but if he’s all sighing and giving up like honey PLEASE take my dick out.. yeah 🫶)

menace!stevie who at every inconvenience, when his little princess is huffing and puffing abt something, rolls his eyes, tugs her under him like god okay babe, i hear you, u need eating out okayy i get it, need to let me kiss u down there for a bit as if he wasn’t the only one out of the two of u thinking that, but boy menace!steve?? can make an excuse out of ANYTHING. oh they gave u crinkle cut fries instead of french? his eyebrows raise as he sighs all dramatic, fully prepared to try n finger u in the diner booth. the dress ur trying on in the changing room doesn’t fit like u wish it would? he’s clicking his tongue, caressing ur hair back just to bend u over infront of the mirror, raring to go and dry hump. the reason??? he’s is. a menace. and kinda bitchy. but it fits.

(also, when ur making out and straddling him, he’d definitely break away, massive grin, just to tease u abt how he can feel that, yknow?? FEEL WHAT??? yknow.. ur heartbeat, baby? the grin is still there, head tilted down to look at u through his lashes. manhandles ur hips harder into his lap and u finally get what he means)

I WAS ALREADY SAVIN UR OTHER ASK TO COME BACK TO BUT HOLY FUCK I CANT ADD ANYTHING TO TOP ANY OF THIS

i’m also a no noise & quiet, ‘can i keep my shirt’ on babe and this felt like a direct ATTACK. steve trying to make his plumber porn fantasy to come true is peak steve 😭 and i would fucking indeed. get his dick out and ride it while he fixed my pipes :)

#BLESS UR BRAIN #AND THANK U FOR SHARING W THE CLASS #can i put this as a fic rec? none of this is mine but BOY do i recommend it #CJCNJFSKJSHWYAISJFJD #you know?#AHHHHHHHHHH #jay answers #anon #fic rec #i might make a menace!bf steve tag #keep em all in one place #menace!bf steve

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lovebugism · 10 months

Note

summer themed request you say?

hmmm what about going out camping with steve for the first time!

I imagine he tries his best to be as prepared as possible, maybe even a little stressed out if things don't go exactly according to plan meanwhile reader is so excited about it all

thanks for ur request lovely! hope you like it!! — the one where boyfriend!steve patches up ditzy!reader after a fall (1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“We’ve only been out here an hour, and you’re already bleeding,” Steve grouses as he wraps gauze around the weeping scrape on your thigh.

He’s not upset at you, really — more so at the stick that all but stabbed you when you fell on it. He’s just happy he remembered to pack the first aid kit.

You shift on the uncomfortable boulder he’s got you sitting on even though he keeps telling you to sit still. You can’t help it. You can’t stop looking over your shoulder and squinting up the steep hill you fell from. “I almost made it all the way up,” you mumble, halfway to yourself.

Steve scoffs from where he’s crouched beside you. “Yeah. Almost.”

“It’s not my fault!” you defend with a halfhearted pout. “It was that stupid tree branch… Sorry.”

He wants to grumble about how much you’re moving, but a laugh spills from his mouth instead. He tucks the edge of the gauze into your bandage and smooths a wide palm over your thigh. His amber eyes glimmer with honey when he looks at you. “Who are you apologizing to, babe?”

“The tree root,” you murmur, embarrassed but trying real hard not to be. Your sheepish eyes flit back and forth between the hand that rests on your thigh and the gaze that sparkles at you. “I called it stupid. And I didn’t mean it…”

“Ah,” Steve hums in response, nodding as he smiles. “Right.”

He isn’t grinning so wide because he thinks it’s funny. Well, he does, but that’s only because he thinks you’re so damn cute. You’re always so gentle in your way. Sometimes, he thinks you feel everything everyone else feels. You’re never unkind because it would mean being unkind to yourself. You’re tender with everyone — every thing.

His smile grows when he watches you look over your shoulder again. You squint up the dizzying edge of the bumpy hill that knocked you off your feet. You’re not scared of it like a normal person might be. It made you bleed, but you would argue that the ground only kissed you.

“Do you think they got too far away?” you ask without looking at him.

“Definitely,” Steve nods with a scrunched nose, even though he can’t know that for sure. He just doesn’t want you running up it again. He’s scared he won’t be able to catch you like he did the first time, and that you’ll come out with a lot worse than a scrape. He isn’t sure if he could take more than that. Patching you up as your eyes glazed over with unshed tears was enough to break his heart.

“They’re probably long gone by now, honey.”

You turn back to him, beaming despite the throbbing in your thigh. There’s a twinkle that dances in your eye, brighter than the brightest damn star in the galaxy — Serious or whatever the hell Dustin called it. You’re your own sun, vivid enough to light up a thousand universes.

“They were cute, though, huh?”

Steve nods with pinched brows like the answer’s obvious. “Oh, totally.”

“I’ve never seen a family of deer before,” you confess, a bit like a child telling a barely hidden secret. You’re rambling before either of you realize it. “Like, I’ve seen big deer before, and I’ve seen baby deer, but I’ve never seen a momma deer and all her baby deer together, you know?”

“Well, how do you know it was the mom?” Steve challenges halfheartedly. “Maybe it was the dad.”

“‘Cause it didn’t have antlers. And female deer don’t have antlers, Stevie. Duh.”

“Right,” Steve concedes with a nod.

His knees ache when he rises to full height again. His muscles are tender from crouching so long. His sneakers dig into the tall grass of the trailside as he stands above you.

A smile tugs at his pink mouth when you get distracted again, glancing over your shoulder at the same hill that got you into this mess. Your brows are scrunched, and your eyes are squinted in a vague sort of determination to hike it again.

He shakes his head and brings his palm to your chin. His gentle fingers are warm as they guide your attention back to his. You blink owlishly up at him, not realizing you’d drifted off. “What?” you hum innocently.

“You know what,” he insists, lip quirked in a knowing smile. “Don’t even think about it, sweetheart.”

“But I was so close,” you grieve in a whine. “And I still have that whole bag of trail mix you gave me when we set up the tent! I could’ve gotten to pet them if I just got a little bit closer!”

“Maybe, but I don’t want you climbing up there again, alright?” Steve tells you, a bit more firm in his kindness so you’ll really listen to him. He stays soft with you, though, grinning down at you while his thumb rubs a dirt mark off your chin. “You’re lucky I half-assed caught you the first time. You really coulda gotten heart, sweetheart.”

You beam up at him, leaning more intently into his palm. “Yeah. I’m real lucky you caught me when I fell for you, Stevie. Both times, actually.”

Despite the boy’s fluttering heart, he squints down at you. “Alright. Don’t get cute. I’m still mad at you.”

“Wait… Really?” you murmur, brows pinched in a childlike sense of horror. You can’t stand thinking that Steve would ever be unhappy with you — even if you do stupid stuff sometimes.

“No,” the boy assures with a swift shake of his head. “Not really. I just… I wish you’d be more careful, you know?”

You nod up at him, firm and smiling. “I’ll be careful.”

“Promise?” the boy presses. His brows raise as he tilts his chin to his chest. He puts his hands on his sides and cocks his hip. “I don’t wanna spend this entire weekend having to bandage any more scrapes, honey. I don’t think my poor heart could take it.”

“Pinky promise,” you tell him, holding your fist out towards him with the smaller digit pointing up.

Steve wraps his own around yours. And, upon your insistence that it must be sealed with a kiss, he bends at the waist to press his lips to your mouth. He feels your smile contort against him, bashful as you confess, “That was super sweet, Stevie, but I meant we had to kiss our thumbs.”

The boy scoffs in response. He mumbles vaguely about not knowing the pinky promise etiquette before abiding you anyway.

He feels lucky when he manages to convince you to organize the tent. You get distracted with sleeping bags and lanterns and other miscellaneous supplies. Steve gathers sticks for a fire, knowing he’s got you occupied for at least half an hour.

But the sun is slowly starting to set. He knows you’ll be on the hunt for cool bugs come sundown.

He also knows he’s happy to patch up your scrapes for the rest of his life. Well, maybe not happy, exactly — just so full of love for you that taking care of you is second nature to him. He can’t imagine spending his life doing anything else.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x ditzy!reader #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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longlivefanfic-net · 2 years

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I Wanna Dance With Somebody

Summary: Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, has a party at your shared apartment and invites his ex, Nancy Wheeler. You get jealous and do your best to make Steve jealous too. Steve Harrington x reader

Content/Warnings: Marijuana use, drinking, also some light Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: This fic does include mention of Steve, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Dustin, and Argyle. The Duffer brothers may murder whomstsoever they wish on Friday but in my head they are all real and alive thanks! Also: this is just fluff. I wrote too much and had to break it up into two sections, so this can be a standalone fluff or you can wait a day for the next part (or read the first two parts) for some smut. PS if u want to tell me Steve wouldnt smoke weed, first of all its implied that he does in S3 and second of all argue with the wall babe this is my world ur just livin in it

When you first started dating Steve Harrington, you had no idea you would end up like this. You knew it would be different than your usual relationships, sure–you weren’t the type to date jocks or prom kings. You just hadn’t expected Steve to be so…normal once you got to know him. He had won you over with his charming smiles and goofy laugh (and the fact that you had nursed a sweet spot for him ever since he stopped in an empty hallway to help you pick up your books after your backpack ripped the first day of Freshman year didn’t hurt either), but the more you got to know him the more you saw past that layer of Harrington-ness that he would so expertly apply before going out into the world. Although, maybe it wasn’t so much that you could see past it as it was that he had started to relax, to lower that protective shield around you, the shield of charm and polite interest that made him the ideal boyfriend to bring home.

The more time you spent around Steve’s friends, the more sure you felt you finally knew the real Steve. You saw the dorky references he would make when he picked Dustin up and brought him over for Atari marathons, and you also saw the care on his face while he contemplated whether Dustin had had “more of a Doritos week or a Lays potato chips week.” When he spent time with Jonathan and Eddie, he came home smelling of weed with at least two new cassettes with songs he wanted to show you; the first time he came home reeking, you had basically developed a contact high because you were just so excited to see Steve stoned. On the nights Robin came over to your shared apartment, Steve would bring out clean blankets and extra pillows to strew across the couch, making it look as if they were always there, so she wouldn’t have to ask for them before making herself cozy on the floor to watch whatever VHS she or Steve had picked out. He would then spend the rest of the night bullying her for sitting “like a weirdo,” cross-legged alone on the floor and complain about having to reach down to her every time he wanted food (Steve, famously, was not allowed to hold the snack bowl anymore after Robin had pinched his leg during Nightmare on Elm Street) (Steve objected to this rule, saying that the only fair decision would be to outlaw Robin’s scare tactics). With you, Steve was quiet and gentle, and, in his sleepy, heavy-lidded eyes first thing in the morning, you saw how sensitive and delicate he was. That’s how you fell in love with him: seeing these different pieces of him come together into one man. He was beautiful, funny, charming Steve Harrington; he was also nerdy, soft, caring, “just Steve.”

That’s why you didn’t hesitate to say yes anytime he asked about inviting his friends over. You loved seeing Steve with his friends–and you had become pretty close with most of them as well, although you had caught Dustin asking Steve if he was “allowed to start getting attached” to you the first time you had said you would stay the night before Steve drove him home (you still didn’t know the answer, but the kid had grown on you so you hoped it was a yes). When Steve mentioned having “the guys” over this weekend to check the crackling noises the stereo had started making, you had assumed it would be Jonathan and Eddie. Then, at the grocery store, Steve had thrown two packs of M&M’s and Nerds into the shopping cart, a sure sign Robin would be over at some point. You had started to question what, exactly, you had agreed to when he put four twelve packs of beer into the cart–Steve, Eddie, and Jonathan could finish off a twelve pack, sure, but four? That seemed excessive. It wasn’t until you watched him grab a bottle of white zinfandel and two packs of wine coolers that you really started to grow suspicious of what you had gotten yourself into.

But Steve had taken care of everything–as he so often did, always loading the dishwasher and wiping down the bathroom counter before bed–and so you decided to let him go on with whatever he had planned. If you were going to see Byers and Munson get shit-faced on wine coolers this weekend, that was fine by you. When the two of you had gone to bed last night, you had turned on your side and curled against him, wrapping one arm over his broad chest and scratching your nails back and forth over his rib cage. “Baby,” you had asked, “Who’s coming over tomorrow?” “Just the guys and some dudes from work,” he said, fingers lightly pulling through your hair. “And the guys drink white wine and wine coolers now?” You had asked, tone light while your eyebrows scrunched together out of his line of sight. “Well, the girls will, yeah, I think,” Steve spluttered, “Or do girls not drink that stuff?” “Depends on the girl.” There had been a moment of silence as you listened to his heartbeat under his skin. “Steve. What girls are coming to our home?” You had sighed, mildly exasperated that you had to break this down for him. “Oh! Robin, duh, a few girls from work, and Nance,” he laughed. “Is that what you’re mad about? You didn’t know who was coming over?” “I wasn’t mad,” you said, instantly flushing at how easily he had seen through your fake cool. “It’s just a few people,” Steve had said, fingers dancing along the taut skin of your neck. You murmured something that you hoped sounded casual and buried your face in the warm skin of his side, hoping to bury your concerns about Nancy with it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nancy. Back in high school, you had wanted to be her–picture perfect, straight A’s, Head Editor of the newspaper, and when she suddenly ditched Steve (back when he was “King Steve”), she had shown up somehow looking older, more mature than all the rest of you. But you couldn’t let go of her past with Steve, as ridiculous as it was. She had been his first love. He still kept one of her bras in a shoe box, for God’s sake–admittedly, it wasn’t because of Nancy, as he had explained to you, but it still made you feel a little sensitive. If Nancy was going to be there tonight, you were going to spend the entire evening trying to prove yourself to her, to Steve, that you weren’t just the girl he was with but the girl he was supposed to be with.

Battle armor, you thought, staring into the closet you and Steve shared. Your clean work uniforms were hung up beside jeans, t-shirts (many stolen from Steve), and a few blouses your mom had bought you to wear to your classes at the community college. You also had a few dresses tucked away in the back–mostly things you hadn’t worn since high school, things you weren’t even sure would fit you any more. What would Nancy wear? You thought, chewing on your bottom lip. Except that’s not right, is it? You need to prove that you’re not Nancy, not that you can be her. When the black pleats caught your eye, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over your face. Pulling the skirt from the back of the closet, you held it up against your body. It seemed like it would still fit, and the length came down just above your knees to show slightly more skin than Wheeler ever would. Flipping through the blouses your mom naively dreamed of you looking professional in, you grabbed a cropped black button down with a wide collar from where it was hidden between fluorescent tops. This–this would work.

Emerging from the bedroom an hour later, you fidget nervously with your nails. You had painted them dark red as soon as you had picked your outfit, blowing on them to dry the shiny liquid before it could smudge. Steve had his back turned to you, digging in the refrigerator and making the glass bottles inside clink. “Hey babe,” he called loudly without turning around, “do you think I should go buy more ice? Will anyone want ice in their drinks?” “Yeah, probably,” you answered casually from behind him. Starting, Steve stood up hurriedly and whipped around. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, hand over his heart. “I didn’t realize you–whoa.” Steve’s eyes scanned down, then back up, then back down your body. “What’s with the outfit?” “You don’t like it?” You asked, tugging anxiously at the hemline of the skirt. You had paired the crop top and skirt with a pair of black shoes with a short heel, and you had finished the outfit with the chain necklaces Robin had given you and hoop earrings. The cherry on top, so to speak, was the red lipstick that perfectly matched the dark red satin of your nails. “Who the fuck said that?” Steve asked, eyes widening. “You look incredible.” You felt a light blush pulse its way into your cheeks and Steve fixed on the color as it spread. “You look good, too,” you said, returning the compliment.

He was wearing the maroon sweater you had given him for Christmas last year, along with a pair of jeans that seemed almost too tight to be comfortable. You couldn’t help but notice that his bulge seemed tightly pressed against his pants, and you hoped he hadn’t chosen this pair of denim for anyone in particular tonight. “Hey,” Steve said, making your eyes meet his. The soft brown flickered for a moment, alight with wickedness. “What are you wearing under that outfit?” He asked, voice soft. You almost rolled your eyes–he was so predictable sometimes. When you had seen the outfit in the mirror, seen the slit of skin between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the skirt, you had known he would immediately begin thinking about getting you out of your clothes. You had changed from your everyday cotton briefs into something more…adventurous for this exact reason. A tiny smile hinted at the edge of your mouth. “How about,” you said, voice smoky, “you spend the rest of the night trying to find out? Without getting caught by your friends?” Steve’s eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. “Really? We’re going to play games tonight?” He seemed incredulous, leaving you with only one possible response: “I’m going to play a game tonight. You’re going to try to play it with me.”

Jonathan had shown up first with Argyle, gently knocking on the frame of your open front door. “Nancy will be here later,” he had said quietly, gently nodding his head in greeting. He, Argyle, and Steve had gathered around the stereo system, making the occasional grunt as they spoke quietly about the crackling sounds coming out of the speakers. Steve clapped his hands enthusiastically, patting Jonathan on the back over-zealously, when he pressed play and crystal-clean sound came through. Eddie and Robin showed up at the same time, though Robin’s first words as she walked through the door were “We did not come together, just at the same time,” which made Eddie snort and shoot you conspiratorial looks. “Oh, gross, Munson,” Robin growled. “I brought beer and tunes,” Eddie said, holding up a six pack and a cassette. “Eddie, we’re not listening to your music at my apartment,” Steve said, “I don’t want my neighbors to think we’re sacrificing virgins in here.” “Who said anything about virgins?” Eddie joked, elbow tickling your ribs as he passed you on his way into the kitchen. You followed behind him to put the six pack he had brought into the fridge.

“Here,” you said, handing Eddie a bottle out of the ice-and-drink-filled sink, “a cold one for you.” You jumped up to sit on top of the kitchen counter, pulling from a brown bottle yourself. Jonathan flipped through the mishmash collection of vinyls next to the stereo while Robin and Steve joked about something stupid one of their coworkers had said that day. “Who’s is this?” Jonathan asked, holding up a bright pink album adorned with the image of Dolly Parton. You giggled, and Steve held up his hands, shooting daggers at you. “I plead the fifth,” he said, mock seriousness in his voice. Jonathan laughed, hard and loud, before pulling a random cassette out of the box next to the stereo system. He loaded it into the cassette player, pressing play, and quiet music began to fill the apartment, floating out the open doorway to invite your neighbors by. Eddie reached behind you, long arms brushing against yours, as he pushed the window over the sink open part way before clambering clumsily up onto the counter next to you. He reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a preroll and a lighter, and lit up.

“So,” Eddie asked, turning his head towards the open window as he blew out a stream of smoke. “How’s life with the babysitter?” You tilt your head back to laugh, your grin stretching your face. “It’s good,” you answer, cocking your head to the side as you look at Eddie. “Living with a boy isn’t quite as disgusting as I thought it would be.” “Oh yeah?” Eddie questions, a look of pure delight crinkling the corner of his eyes. “Does Harrington clean every weekend? Maybe in a little maids uniform for you?” You splutter around the mouth of the beer bottle, choking on the cool malt beer at how close Eddie has come to guessing the truth. Steve doesn’t wear a maid’s outfit–not that you’d be opposed to seeing him in one, you think, making a mental note–but he does wear silk. And lace. And satin. Basically, if it’s women’s underwear in his size, Steve will wear it at least once for you. He’s gotten picky now, rejecting a few pieces here and there for being uncomfortable, but he wears everything you pick out together for at least one night.

“Relax,” Eddie crows, slapping you on the back as you recover from the shot of malt up your nose, “I was kidding! Unless he does have a maid’s outfit, in which case I’ve got to see it.” You laugh as you regain your breath. “No, no maid’s outfits,” you giggle as Eddie pulls an over-the-top pout. He takes another pull from the joint in his fingers, holding it out to you. You take it from him, pulling the smoke down into your lungs where you hold it for a minute before turning to release it out the window. Munson looks borderline impressed, but he stops you when you go to take a second hit: “Strong shit. Maybe go slow for a minute,” he says, plucking the joint out of your fingers. “So,” you ask, forcing your tone to be light, “What has Steve said about living with me?” “Oh, he’s a big fan,” Eddie laughs. “Really?” You can’t help the slight blush that burns your face, and you hope the combination of makeup and low light will keep Eddie from seeing it. “Absolutely,” he says, “Every time I see him now, it’s ‘Did you know girls wash their towels’ and ‘Girls actually wash the sheets on their bed even when someone’s not coming over.’” “Ewwww,” you groan, shoving Munson’s shoulder, “That’s not true! Steve didn’t have to learn to wash his towels from me.” “Alright, maybe he was just trying to pass on some friendly advice,” Eddie laughs, rolling his eyes.

Eddie leans towards you conspiratorially, placing his hand on your knee to steady him before he falls off the countertop. “Actually,” he half-whispers, “Steve’s made it pretty damn clear how he feels about you to me, Jonathan, and Argyle. We’re talking an Aragorn and Arwen level of crazy about you.” Your cheeks burn again, and you smile gently at Eddie, taking the joint he extends to you with a nod of approval. “Did Steve make that Lord of the Rings reference or did you have to teach it to him?” “The guy’s not dumb–maybe a little distracted, but not dumb.” You laugh again, smoke blowing out and lean closer to Eddie’s face, eyebrows raised. “Okay, okay,” Eddie laughs. “Maybe Steve would say it’s a Han and Leia type thing.” You start to lean back, laughing again. The friendship between Steve, Eddie, Argyle, and Jonathan never fails to surprise you; you wouldn’t have guessed Munson was a Tolkien fan, and his ability to recognize that Steve would prefer a Star Wars reference warms your heart. Suddenly, you’ve leaned too far–you almost lose your balance when Eddie reaches out, putting a hand on your waist to pull you closer to him and steady your balance. “You okay there?” He asks, eyebrows in his hairline and half a smile on his face. “I told you it was strong shit, didn’t I?” You blink slowly, the mixture of your second beer and Eddie’s weed making your brain feel smooth and slow. Eddie pulls his hand back from your waist, and you notice a familiar ring amidst the others on his fingers. “Hey!” You say, grabbing his hand with your own. “Steve has this same ring!” “Yeah,” Eddie says, “I got us guys all the same one last year. Brotherhood, blah blah blah,” he says, turning crimson. You peer up into his face, lips pressed together into a smile. “That’s actually very sweet, Eddie,” you say, placing his hand on your knee where you pat it gently.

“Hey!” A voice jars across the kitchen. “What the fuck, Munson?” You turn your head slowly to see Steve standing in the kitchen, an empty beer bottle in his hand. Eddie barely even moves. “Calm down, Harrington,” he says, turning to him. “We were just sharing a joint and, you know, some feelings.” Steve’s face scrunches up in incredulous confusion. “You don’t have feelings,” he says, minutely shaking his head. “I know,” Eddie says, tapping the end of his nose, “We were talking about yours.” “Oh, fuck that,” Steve says. “Come on.” He pushes Eddie’s hand off your knee and grabs your hand, pulling you down off the counter where you sway slightly on your feet. Steve pulls another beer out of the ice pile in the sink and then turns, pulling you behind him to the living room. “Here. Sit,” he says, gently pushing your shoulders so you sit down on the couch. “Keep Robin entertained or something, you lightweight.” He’s joking, the little glint in his eye telling you how entertained he is by your inability to hold your substances, but the line of his mouth is hard. “Anything for you, my baby,” you say, doing your best to look like a soft, delicate version of yourself. “You need water,” Steve says, half laughing at your attempt to be fragile and disappearing from your line of vision.

Robin is on the floor next to your legs, her usual place of honor, making quiet remarks about each person who comes through the doorway. “Oh, who the hell invited Tommy?” She mutters under her breath. Suddenly, a slender, petite frame appears in the doorway. “Wheeler!” Robin cries, jumping up a bit too quickly for you to track with your eyes. She darts to the door, throwing her arms around Nancy’s neck. Nancy hugs her back, tightly, and pulls back, smiling. “Buckley,” she says with affection. She drops her hands from Robin’s neck to her waist. “So,” she says, casting her eyes around the room. “This is Harrington’s infamous love den?” Her eyes alight on you, laying a bit too comfortably on the couch. You straighten up, trying to look more prim and proper than usual under Nancy’s eyes. Steve rounds the corner, glass of water and a napkin full of pretzels in hand. “Here you go, my lady love,” he says, simultaneously sarcastic and simpering, as he lowers himself to your height, placing the glass in your hands and the pretzels on the end table next to you. “Steve!” Nancy cries from the doorway. “Hey, Nance!” Steve crows. “My girl!” He moves swiftly to her side, pulling her out from under Robin’s hands to wrap her in a tight embrace. You try not to notice the sinking in your heart at the idea that anyone other than you might be “Steve’s girl.”

People are milling around, creating small clumps of conversation throughout the apartment. Steve brought Nancy and Robin both back to the couch with him, where he sat in between you and Nancy while Robin took her spot on the floor, leaning up against Nancy’s legs. Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie had eventually made their way over to your small group, all three reeking of Eddie’s weed, and crowded close. Eddie was on the floor, leaning his back against the coffee table so he could watch the conversation; Argyle had sprawled out next to him, long legs blocking the space from anyone else’s attempts to come closer; Jonathan had pulled one of the chairs out of the kitchen to straddle backwards, beer bottle tapping lightly against the back of it in time to the music playing. The conversation had been flowing pretty smoothly without much help from you so far, but as it lulled you felt peace in the quiet. Good friends, you thought to yourself, although, at least half of these people have fucked. You snort quietly at the thought, and Steve turns to you. “More water, baby?” He looks at your mostly-empty glass and grabs it, standing up. You tilt your head up to look at him. “I’ll be right back,” he says before disappearing back into the kitchen. You can hear him greeting other friends who have showed up, the sound of back slaps and light laughter following him.

“Who would have guessed Harrington was such a softie?” Eddie asked. Robin laughs. “He’s not a softie, he’s pussy-whipped,” she says, reaching over to pinch your legs. You blush a little, but this has become Robin’s favorite joke and you don’t pay it much mind. A quiet scoff makes you turn to Nancy. “Something to share with the group, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, a look of delight on his face. She blushes, and you hate that the crimson only makes her look prettier. “No!” She says, motions jerky as she recoils. “It’s just, well, Steve has always been a sweetheart.” Jonathan’s eye roll can be physically felt, and Nancy hurries to say “When he’s screwed up.” Robin cocks her head at Nancy. “I mean,” she says, starting to gesture with her petite hands, “He was a great boyfriend when we dated. But he was his best when he had pissed me off and was trying to get back on my good side. He’d bring flowers, help me study, whatever I wanted, if he thought he would get back into my good graces.” “And,” Argyle’s voice looms up from his position on the floor, “is Harrington out of your good graces?” He rolls his head to the side to look at you, and everyone else turns to look at you too. “No,” you say. “Definitely not.” You shake your head lightly and then giggle quietly at the sensation of your eyes shifting. “See,” says Argyle patiently, “She’s just wasted. Steve is taking care of her, like a true gentleman.” The sound of his voice makes it clear that Argyle approves of Steve’s actions–but the moment is ruined when Jonathan starts to laugh and everyone follows, including you.

“What’s the joke?” Steve asks, returning with your water and more snacks. “You are,” Robin says, grinning at him from the floor. Steve groans, as he puts your water down and sits down next to you again. He swings his arm over your shoulders, casually, and you try not to pay attention as his warm fingertips begin to sweep, slowly, back and forth over the cool skin of your exposed arms. “Why am I the joke this time? Robin,” he says, eyes steely, “I did not have rabies, for the last time–” Steve is cut off by her laugh. He looks around in confusion. “We were talking about how particularly gentlemanly you’re being tonight,” Jonathan says, answering his searching look. “Oh,” Steve says. “Why is that funny?” “Well,” Robin says breathlessly, “Nance said that you’re only nice when you mess up, but she–” Robin points to you “ –said you didn’t do anything wrong, and then Argyle decided you’re a gentleman, but I mean, Argyle is never not high so it’s just hard to take him seriously, you know–” Robin is cut off by Steve’s shocked look. “I didn’t ‘mess up’ –I think,” he says, glancing back at you, and you nod empathetically. “I just love my girlfriend.”

There’s a moment’s pause. Steve had never said this to you before–months of dating, living together for most of them, and he’s exposed even his most delicate and sensitive secrets to you, but he never said he loved you. You’ve known you loved him since about your second week of dating, but you’ve kept it to yourself; you’re not the type to say it first, even though you feel it, because you can’t handle the possibility of a stilted, awkward conversation instead of reciprocation. Before you can say anything back, Argyle’s voice comes from the floor again. “See? Gentleman shit,” and everyone dissolves into a fit of laughter again. You lean forward amidst your giggles, wrapping your hand around the nape of Steve’s neck, and press a soft kiss to his shoulder, holding his eyes with your own. Suddenly, the music changes and Robin screeches.

“Oh, my God!” She yowls, jumping to her feet. “It’s our song!” She grabs Nancy’s hand, pulling her by the wrist to standing and pulls her out to the middle of the living room that has been avoided by all the other clumps of people. “Poor old Johnnie Ray,” Robin croons, grabbing Eddie’s hand and pulling him to standing despite his grumblings. She pushes him to the center of the room, turning back for Jonathan and Argyle, who is already wiggling his hips casually. “That’s the spirit,” Robin says, pointing to Argyle. She comes back for you and Steve now. “No one’s sitting this out,” she orders, pulling you to your feet. You’re much steadier than you were earlier, and the rush of blood to your legs provides you with more clarity. “Come on Eileen,” you sing, slightly behind Dexy’s Midnight Runners on the tape, as you turn and hold your hand out for Steve expectantly. The rest of your group has started dancing, Robin trying to force Jonathan to loosen up, Eddie shuffling his feet with Argyle, and Nancy, eyes closed, in a world of her own. Steve takes your hand, his rough palm sliding against yours, and stands up. You lead him to the impromptu dance floor, and he presses his broad chest and stomach against your back, wrapping his fingers around your hips as you sway. Other guests have started to join the dance as well, and Robin takes Nancy’s hands in hers as Tommy reaches out for her. You can feel Steve’s breath as he leans his head on your shoulder, the warm puffs blowing your free-floating strands of hair. Together, the two of you watch your friends drop the hardnesses they have wrapped around themselves, around their hearts, and simply laugh and dance together. Robin brings Eddie into her and Nancy’s dance circle, and he drags Jonathan with him. Argyle joins in quickly too, and you watch the four of them let go of whatever hurt and sadness they have carried with them and melt into radiance, into joy.

The song switches over to rhythmic clapping as Whitney Houston “Whoos!” into the laughter and scattered voices in your apartment. Eddie and Jonathan beg out quickly, saying they’ve done their required dancing for Robin, but Argyle, Nancy, and Robin continue to dance among other people. “Hey,” Steve says, turning you around to face him. “Want to dance with me?” “Obviously,” you say. He wraps his arms around you, bringing your hips to press against his. “Steve,” you laugh, “this isn’t exactly a slow dance song.” “Whitney asked if we want to dance, and this is how I want to dance,” he replies, shaking his head at you like it’s obvious. You slide your hands up around his neck, interlocking your fingers at the base of his spine, and he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. Steve closes his eyes and sighs quietly, contently. You keep your eyes open, watching the soft glow of the lights in the room sway and dance over his sweater, catching in his hair, looming around his form so he looks like a painting of a fairy tale character, a brave hunter come to rescue the woman who’s been locked in a tower, alone for too long. He did save me, you think, the thought cutting through the rest of brain fog sharply, he rescued me from myself. Your fingers tighten slightly, digging your nails into his neck, and his eyes pop open.

“You okay?” Steve asks. “Yeah,” you say, “Fine.” He looks searchingly at you for another second. “If it’s about earlier—what I said—it’s not like you have to say it back or anything. I didn’t say I love you to make you say it too; I said it because, well, I love you. That’s all.” He’s not looking at you now, eyes on the floor as his hips continue to sway pressed against yours. Something about this feels so middle school, so simple and innocent and exciting, that you feel bubbles bounce against your heart as you reply, “Okay.” He looks up at you, a small smile on his lips. “Okay,” he says, nodding his head in relief. “I do love you, though,” you say, completely casually. You’re not nervous to tell him this; it feels like answering the question “what’s your birthdate?” or “where did you grow up?” You don’t have to think about it at all. It just is the answer, simple and true. You love Steve Harrington, and, apparently, he loves you too. “You, um, you what?” He asks, blinking at you quickly. “I love you,” you say, head mocking his own surprised shake. “You’re stoned,” Steve says, eyebrows raised. “A little,” you answer, “but that’s not why I love you.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve says, a glimmer in his eyes. He leans in close to you, lips brushing your ear as he whispers “and why do you love me, baby girl?” One of your hands traces down his shoulder to his chest, pushing him lightly back so you can look in his eyes. “Because you’re kind. And you’re funny. And you think about others all the time, but you still tell me what you need so I can take care of you. And you ask to take a walk with me when I really piss you off and we just walk in silence. Also, you make me coffee every morning and you remembered exactly what I like in my coffee after the first night I spent here. And, you know, you’re actually kind of smart, Harrington, because you’ve chosen some really great people to surround yourself with.” Steve stares at you, unblinking, and you notice that his eyes have started to water gently. He cradles your face in his palm, tilting his head slightly to the side. “I haven’t found a single reason not to love you, Steve, so why wouldn’t I?” At these words, Steve leans down, brushing his lips gently over yours. “Thank you,” he murmurs over your skin. “I love you.”

The song is still playing and the two of you continue to sway, revolving in the center of the room amidst your friends. You press your face to the side of Steve’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Steve?” “Yes, baby?” “Why do you love me?” He scoffs, the quick flex of his diaphragm echoing through your body. “I don’t have to outdo what you said, right?” He asks. “No,” you laugh. “Just say whatever you think.” “Okay, I love you because you made friends with my friends and you bought me panties to wear with you. And also you don’t think I’m Steve Harrington in the way other people do but you know me better than anyone else in the world. Also, you’re…kind of a badass and not in a scary way but in a cool way where you tell me what I’m going to do in, uh, certain moments.” He blushes, and you can feel the heat snaking up his neck where your face is pressed against it. “You’re kind of like…the Leia to my Han.”

You burst out laughing. “What?” He asks, “What the hell's funny?” “Nothing,” you choke out in between giggles. “Something Munson said.” “I’m going to kill him,” Steve says, whipping his head around behind him to look for Eddie. “Don’t,” you say, bracing a hand against his chest. “Will you walk me to the bathroom?” “You’re still that out of it?” Steve asks, laughing. “Just need some guidance, I think.” You smile up at him, willing him to believe the faux innocence you’ve plastered over your face. “Alright, baby girl, to the bathroom we go.” He wraps one arm around your waist, the other around your shoulders. You stumble a few times as you walk down the hallway, trying to sell the “drunk girl at a party” bit to any of your friends who might wonder where the two of you have gone in a few minutes. Outside the bathroom, he leans you against the door frame. “You okay, babe?” He asks, concern over his face. “I’m okay,” you say, stretching up on to your toes. You press your lips against his cheek, and he anticipates you, turning his head to try to meet your mouth. You end up pressing your lips against the corner of his mouth, which is turned up in a slight smile. “Let’s try that again,” he whispers, leaning down to your face where his lips meet yours.

#my fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #jonathan byers #argyle #nancy wheeler #stranger things #steve harrington series #sub!steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington stranger things #fruity four #Steve Harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #feral fics

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