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Steve Harrington Fluff - Blog Posts
Can I request a fluffy Steve Harrington x fem! reader oneshot where Steve is playing hide and seek with their daughter and he pretends he doesn’t know where she is but he can hear her giggling and he eventually sneaks up on her and grabs her and starts tickling her and reader watches and thinks how adorable he is with her and how much their little girl adores him?
Spring Days (Steve Harrington x reader)
(Summary: While Steve plays hide n seek with your and his daughter. Y/n watches them admiring how their daughter adores her father.)
Word count: 868
Masterlist : Request info
(A/n: I hope you liked it! It's short and sweet! You are literally my first request so I really hope you like it and feel free to send more requests!!)
(Warnings: Pure fluff!, NOT FULLY PROFF READ)
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It was a perfect spring Sunday not to cold and not to hot. Y/n and Steve had decided to do some spring cleaning around the house. They had almost gotten everything done except the kitchen. Sitting down at the island for a mini break, when they hear little foot steps come running in to see their 4 year old daughter Layla with a giddy glint in her eyes.
"Daddy! Please come play hide n seek with me!" Layla pleaded giving her father puppy dog eyes.
Steve looks at Y/n as if asking if it was okay. Y/n giggled before nodding.
"Alright only for a little. You better go hide!" Steve said, as Layla shouted "yay!!" before running off to hide.
"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like I'm making you do everything." Steve asked. Y/n waved him off before leaning in and whispering.
Little well known fact about Steve he never wanted to be one of those boyfriends/husbands that made their wife to do everything around the house or in general. Whether it stemmed from his own father and his actions or for his actions in the past. So when occurrences like this happens he needs a bit of a reassurance.
"You don't make me do everything plus I'm just cleaning. You are awful at that especially the kitchen! Which is what I'm doing now." She said in a joking manner. Hoping to lighten his guilt.
Steve huffed at her comment.
"I'm not that bad..." he said.
"At cleaning the kitchen yes you are!" Y/n giggled. "Now go play hide n seek with our daughter." He smiled.
"Alright! Ready or not here I come!" Steve shouted lightly before getting up off the stool at the kitchen island.
He checked around the downstairs before going upstairs and as he was about to walk past Laylas room going into Layla's room until he heard a giggle. Smirking as he headed inside.
"Hmm.. I wonder where Layla is? Is she under her bed?" He said as he checked. "Hmm nope not under there." As he heard another little giggle.
"oh no! She's not under there either! Oh where oh where could she have gone? I guess she's not in here!" Steve said playfully trying to full his daughter. As he neared the closet. Hearing a sweet little giggle again.
Before she slowly opens the door and he grabs her. She lets out a surprised scream and starts laughing as Steve tickles her.
"Ahh! I found you!" Steve said, ticking her as she laughed.
Layla manages to stands up. "You scared me daddy! But I am so happy you found me!" She said! Wrapping her small arms around his neck.
"Oh I'm sorry I scared you.." Layla pulled away ever so slightly. "It's okay! I forgive you!" Before going back into the hug.
"I love you daddy!" She whispered. Steve smiled hugging and give her a kiss on the forehead.
Neither of them noticing Y/n leaning on the frame of the door way as she watched how much their daughter adored her father. Steve looked over smiling which Y/n returned.
"Alright. Layla can you please go clean up your toys in the playroom?" Y/n asked. Layla pouted not wanting to do it. Looking at her father with big eyes.
"Layla you have to do it... and after we can go get ice cream!" Steve said trying to bribe her just a bit. Laylas eyes lit up before getting out of her father's arms.
"Okay I'll do it!!" She said excitedly before running out of the room.
Y/n giggled. Giving Steve a 'are you serious look?' Which Steve shrugged his shoulders. Coming up and wrapping his arms around her giving her a kiss on the lips. She kissed back. Leaning against the hug smiling up at him.
"She absolutely adores you. You know that?" Y/n said. Looking at Steve in admiration.
"Well we did have experience before hand." He said, remembering the group of kids who are now all out of school and pursuing their own careers. After everything that happened. They still were all okay.
Y/n laughed remembering her brother and his friends that coincidentally they both ended up looking after taking the roles of the 'babysitters'.
"And to think of it wasn't for my little punk of a brother we would have never met." Y/n said.
"I really have a lot to thank that little shit for.."
y/n laughed.
"That little shit is going to be your brother in law." She said. Steve sighed before laughing."Now come on you promised us ice cream." Grabbing his hand pulling him away to get their daughter. He laughed shaking his head.
Thinking how he wouldn't have it any other way...
@borhapgirlforlife19
Steve Harrington ideas...
Hey! I’m very new to the Stranger Things fandom and I have fallen down the rabbit hole of Steve Harrington fan fictions on here and I'm obsessed. I’ve been thinking of ideas when I'm not reading because I'm autistic and so this is my new hyper fixation (Shoutout to the creators on here who write for autistic readers. Y’all are the real MVP’s) I used to write fan fictions but I haven't written in a long time but I have a lot of ideas. IDK if this is an acceptable thing to do on here but I just thought I’d give my ideas and if anyone wanted to take them and run with them I think that'd be super cool. If not maybe one day I’ll get off my ass and actually continue writing. So even if no one wants to take them I’d love some feedback on my ideas or just options on which ones people like the most? Idk I'm also just kind of word vomiting to get this out into the universe so I can stop fixating on them. lol
Anyways here are some of the ideas running through my brain:
-Reader is in nursing school or med school and is the party’s doctor basically when shit goes down. Reader is dating Steve and gets frustrated with him because he's becoming reckless and one day after a bad run in the reader is taking care of Steves injuries but not talking to him but they eventually blow up at him but it ends fluffy?
-Reader is (again lol) in nursing school and has to practice doing exams on patients and asks her boyfriend Steve to help her out. It starts out serious but then Steve gets goofy and then it turns into smut.
-Reader is waiting to hear if they passed a major exam and is nervous so Steve tries to distract them
-(Takes place in season 4. Also sorry this one is going to be long and specific and weird but I can't stop thinking about it.) Reader and Steve are engaged and she's very pregnant. Reader has always been very involved with the party and everything that has lead up to this season. When the vena stuff starts happening Steve tries everything he can to keep the reader in the dark about it because he knows she will want to help. Reader finds out about everything (maybe from Dustin on accident and Steve gets pissed) Anyways reader gets mad at Steve and argues with him about keeping her in the dark and she's yelling about how she is going with them to defeat Vecna and Steve is like “absolutely not” and they go back and forth for awhile. She eventually breaks down and says she can't live without him and something like “We can make another baby but I can't make another you. Don't make me do this alone. I can't lose you” After awhile Steve realizes she's going to help no matter what. While the team is going over how they are going to defeat Vecna the reader starts getting contractions but just thinks its braxton hicks or nerves or whatever so she ignores it but when they are in the Upside Down reader goes like fully into labor. They defeat Vecna (and Eddie lives because him dying just isn't fair) and they try to get the reader out so they can get to the hospital. (they either make it to the hospital or they don't and have to help deliver the baby in Eddies trailer.) (I’m just picturing a hilarious amount of chaos as Steve, Robin, Eddie and Nancy and maybe some of the younger kids try to help bring the baby into the world lol) Again I'm sorry for this one hahah
-Reader is epileptic. Reader and Steve are cuddling on the couch watching a movie and the reader has a seizure. Steve freaks out a little at first but remembers what you told him to do if it ever happened and what he has read about so he makes sure you're safe and tries to comfort you as its happening even though he doesn't know if you can hear him. When reader starts to wake up he makes sure she's okay and just cuddles here and takes care of her for the rest of the night.
-(Another weird specific one. Sorry) Reader is Eddies younger sister. She is dating Steve but lives with Eddie. Eddie had a kid a few years ago and sees him every couple of months because the mother moved away to another state or something but he misses his son all the time and is kind of depressed about it. Reader just had a baby and is really stressed and thinks she's not fit to be a mom. (Steve is super great with the baby but when he's working more so they can get a place together.) Steve is at work one day and the reader is just crying trying to take care of the baby (i pictured a baby girl but ??) Eddie sees how she's struggling and is super sweet and helps her in anyway he can and teaches her some stuff he learned when his son was born. Eddie reassures her that she's a great mom and he realizes helping out with his niece helps his depression a little bit.
-Reader has been dating Steve for a little while and finally decides to open up to him and tell him that they're autistic. They're nervous Steve will think differently of them but Steve is super sweet and asks them what he should know about them (like what gets them overstimulated, certain textures or foods to avoid, etc.) Steve takes note of what you tell him and does his own research too and just tries his best to make you comfortable and be the best boyfriend he can be and its just super sweet.
-TW: Rape and PTSD!!!! Reader was raped a year or so before she started dating Steve. He would try to be physical with the reader but he could sense they were uncomfortable so he never pushed it but eventually asks if he did something wrong or if they don't like him as much anymore or something and so they open up to him about what happened and how they have PTSD and he feels awful and makes sure they know he never wants them to feel pressured with him and he's just happy to be with them and spend time with them. After a few more months the reader wants to try to have sex with Steve because they love him and trust him completely. He takes it super slow with them and checks in with them and makes sure they feel loved during the whole process and its just a really beautiful healing experience because the reader thought they would never be able to have meaningful and loving sex after what happened.
Those are just some of my ideas. If you made it this far thanks for reading! haha
If anyone decides to take an idea and run with it be sure to tag me! I’d love to read it! If not hopefully I will write some of these in the future.
ain't no sunshine — steve harrington
▸summary: steve just wants cuddles. and he'll play the song on repeat until he gets them.
▸characters: steve harrington x gn!reader
▸tw: tooth. rotting. FLUFF
▸a/n: i did not die. have some happy words.
HE MUST'VE HAD the song downloaded four-hundred times on his cassette tape, because you were just about ready to bash your head in when the beginning notes played from Steve's bedroom.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, it's not warm when she's away.
You were in the living room, finishing up some writings that you had due for your classes when you gazed unamused at the ceiling. He'd been playing the song on repeat, singing along badly in order to coax you into giving him some love and affection as you always did on a Tuesday afternoon. Unfortunately, this deadline was currently taking priority, and Steve was being a drama queen about it.
You still had about four pages to write, as well as some questions to answer before anything else took over your mind, so you had to suffer.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and she's always gone too long, anytime she goes away.
You'd practically memorised the words and melody to this song, mouthing them with good ol' Bill Withers as he provided sustenance to feed Steve's dramatics. You could hear Steve's faux grieving voice as he sang along, making the song a whole heap more dramatic than the original recording.
Wonder this time where she's gone, wonder if she's gonna stay.
Trying to persevere through the loud stereo blasting muffled music above your head is a lot more difficult than you might imagine. Ever since you had gone to his place in a tizzy that you had things to do before a deadline and couldn't afford any distractions, you had banished him to his room, and for about an hour, had some quiet.
That changed when the second hour became the third, and the music started when the sun began to go down, reeling on loop as though it was a broken record.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.
You smiled slightly, though. For all of Steve's dramatics and ridiculous behaviours, he loved you, and you loved him. All of his quirks made him special to you, and you loved to be with him no matter what was happening around the world, especially when the whole Upside Down thing began catching up to him, mentally and physically. Now, he was a cuddly baby that loved hugging you. He always said that he felt safer to sleep in your arms.
And I know, I know, I know, I know...
He must've given up on singing, because Steve's voice could no longer be heard. Probably ran out of oxygen. Good. He needed to rest after the whole Russian situation. You only had one page left to write and a few more questions to do before you could give your Steve what he needed so desperately.
A hug. And a fat nap.
You sighed as the tape continued playing the bridge, scrawling your pencil over the paper. You had started with gorgeous cursive, and had evolved into writing chicken scratch to speed up the time. Two questions down, half a page to go...
Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone, but ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
Three lines, two sentences, aaaaand...
Done.
Throwing the pencil down and thudding the book shut, you pushed yourself to a standing position, practically bounding up the stairs, dragging yourself up by the handrails.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.
You came to the first floor landing, stepping onto the carpeted floor with your socked feet and beelined for Steve's room. The door was shut, but Bill's soothing voice carried through the wood, almost getting impossibly loud as you inched closer.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home, any time she goes away.
Stepping into the room as you swing open the door, the final outro of the song is echoing through, fading away. You smile to find Steve on his back, staring at the ceiling as he waits for the next loop to begin.
You are silent as you halt the tape, crawling onto the bed and giving him a big ol' smooch. He looks at you with innocent and wide eyes, a big fat smile settling on his face.
"All done?" he asks.
You nod, confirming. "All done."
You yelp as he flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tumbling over the other side of the bed. He's quick to bring the covers over you both, leaving the bed side light on. A new habit, but it didn't bother you.
You tussled for a little, finding a comfortable position that agreed with all parties and bones. You settled on bear hugging him as he tangled your legs together and kept his nose near your hair.
You giggled, running your nails down his back. "You big baby."
He grumbled. "Ain't no sunshine when you're not here."
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The Cake Attack of ‘87
a/n: this is just a short fluffy relationship fic. also I currently have 666 followers and thought that was neat. Thank u to anyone that reads this and enjoys it.
w/c: 1,350
pairing(s): boyfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: Steve is excited to be throwing his best friend a surprise birthday party. Unfortunately, his friends are idiots and he ends up with a face full of cake. Good thing his girlfriend is there.
warnings: sort of curse words, idk if the word i used is considered cursing but jic. soft girlfriend and boyfriend type beat
It was Robin Buckley’s 19th birthday and Steve was far too excited to throw his best friend her very first surprise party. He had been running around Hawkins, sneakily buying bags of party streamers and quietly shoving helium balloons into his car, all week. You were in charge of getting all the food; pastries, chips, the cake. This was a very important task, something Steve continued to emphasize, because it’s not really a birthday party without the birthday cake. He also kept telling you that he trusts you with this very important mission because you’re the person he trusts the most, which is a load of crap. You’re just the only other person with a license that doesn’t drive like a maniac.
Steve was on a kitchen chair in the middle of the living room when you walked into his house. His cheeks were flushed, pieces of tape between his lips, as he attempted to stick purple streamers to the ceiling.
“Hey, Stevie.” You walked over to his kitchen and put the cake down with the other sweets. There were plates full of cupcakes and cookies on the counter. A myriad of drinks and bags of chips. Maybe Steve had gone a little above and beyond considering the amount of people coming but honestly, it was really sweet.
“Hey, sweetheart. Got the cake?” You walked back into the living room where he was trying to get a mess of tape off his hand. The chair he was on wobbling a little as he flailed his arms. You sped walked over to him and grabbed his hand, gently peeling the pieces of tape off his hand. “Thank you.” He mumbled, stepping off the seat and planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Of course, one vanilla birthday cake.” You reached down for his hand, pulling him into the kitchen with you. The white cardboard box, with the words ‘Giovanni’s Bakery’ spread across the top, sat nicely among the other treats “You know, I think this is very nice of you.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, looking up at him. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, babe.”
A wide smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Am I the best boyfriend a girl could ask for?”
“Well….”
“(y/n).”
“Yes, Steve.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’re the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Steve’s smirk was replaced by a big dumb grin. He brought you in for a kiss, hand on the back of your head.
The doorbell rang throughout the house, immediately followed with incessant knocking. “C’mon, Harrington! It’s hot out here.” Eddie’s voice was slightly muffled by the door. Dustin’s voice not far behind.
“Yeah, open up.”
-
Robin had been sufficiently surprised. Actually, when she walked through the door and everyone yelled out, she threw her water bottle at the nearest child. Mike was winded for a few seconds but got over it quickly.
“Awww Stevie, you did this all for me?” Robin’s arm was flung around your shoulders as she spoke. She was making light of the situation but her heart felt so full. No one had ever done something so nice for her. There aren’t a lot of moments when Steve and Robin tell each other how much they care for one another and this felt like Steve’s way of saying just that.
“Oh yeah, you should’ve seen him.” You slid your arm around Robin’s waist. “He was a decoration fiend. Driving around, car full of balloons.”
“You’re both annoying.” Steve rolled his eyes with absolutely no real annoyance. There was nothing he loved more than watching you get along with your shared friends.
You weren’t originally part of the group. When Steve asked you to officially be his girlfriend, he was actually quite nervous about introducing you to his friends. He was so scared they would run you off. His anxiety proved to be unnecessary because you were welcomed with open arms by everyone. Even Max was a fan. “Whatever, happy birthday, nerd.”
“Yeah, happy birthday, Robs.” You kissed her cheek. “Oh! The cake. We must abide by tradition and awkwardly sing happy birthday.” You clapped your hands and excitedly went to go grab the cake. Steve started gathering everyone, herding them to the kitchen table. The cake was now on a pretty crystal stand. You were very careful, gently putting it down on the table in front of everyone. There were unlit candles on the top of the sweet dessert. “Right, we need to light those. I’ll go look for a lighter.”
While you were in the kitchen, rummaging through drawers you heard some loud chattering immediately followed by a thud. You rushed back to where everyone was standing. All of them looking very guilty. Your beautiful boyfriend was standing in the middle of everyone, face covered in vanilla frosting, large chunks of sponge cake littered around his hair. Robin and Eddie were standing to the side, neither of them able to meet your eyes. Both of them clearly the culprits behind the cake attack. You would have to deal with them later.
“Baby, what have they done to you?” You scraped some frosting off his eyelids so he could finally open them. He still couldn’t really open his eyes, squinting to be able to look down at you.
“Just point me in their direction so I can kill them.”
“No murder right now, tiger.” You intertwined your fingers, carefully leading him up the stairs. “Gotta get you cleaned up first.”
-
In the bathroom upstairs Steve was sitting on the closed toilet, your hand holding his face still. You were wiping his face clean with a moist towel, trying your absolute best to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to irritate his skin. His hand was on the back of your thigh, softly rubbing circles with his thumb. He was looking up at you, adoration clear in his eyes. The moment was so sweet, it filled his heart with pure unadulterated happiness.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to stop the hooligans.” You picked a particularly large piece of sponge cake out of his hair.
“It’s alright, better me than you, sweetheart.” He put his hand on your hip and shot you a wink.
“Alright, Romeo.” You scoffed, trying your best to get all the frosting out of perfect hair. “Want me to just wash your hair, babe?”
“Please.” Steve pouted, loving all the attention you were giving him. He was usually trying his best to take care of everyone around him so he was taking full advantage of the situation.
-
Steve was then sitting on a chair that he had dragged into the bathroom, his head on the cold marble of the bathroom sink. A really uncomfortable position, but he’s not complaining, not when he has your fingers in his hair. The anger he had felt earlier when Eddie and Robin pushed his face into the cake completely gone now.
“I’m a little scared that they’re down there by themselves.” You said, sitting down on his lap as you rinsed the suds out of his hair. Gently kneading the last bits of cake out.
“Baby, in this moment I don’t really care.” His eyes were closed, just enjoying the feeling of your magic fingers expertly massaging his head. “They can break whatever they want.”
He was being serious. He loved how you took care of him; you were so attentive and caring. Steve had always felt clingy in his relationship with Nancy, and you never made him feel that way. You both loved each other and cared for each other, he was finally happy. Nancy might’ve been his first love but you were his great love, he was sure of it.
A crash was heard from downstairs, making you both jump. “(y/n) it wasn’t me I swear!” You heard Lucas call up the stairs.
You sighed and rested your head on Steve’s shoulder. He was laughing.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing; this is your house.”
You felt his laugh come to a stop. “Those little shits.”
tag list: @johnricharddeaky @slashersluttt @slurmp69
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Count the Ways // S.H.
Request: could you do a steve imagine where they’re a couple and they go to a party together but y/n gets really drunk and steve starts to get nervous because of what happened with nancy but then she just starts telling him how much she loves her and he feels better? it would be so cute - anon
A/N: Such a cute request! Thank you so much for sending it in. I hope you like it and that I have done it justice. I wrote this in an hour and it isn’t edited the best, I’m really sorry but I’m so busy this week that I wanted to get something out for you all!
Warnings: alcohol, underage drinking (American laws), drunk reader, drunkenness, fluff, happy, cute.
Word count: 1.6k
Keep reading
yeah, you are my home, my home for all seasons ♡
spending the fourth of july with steve
🍁 we fell in love in october
🍂 autumns spent with steve
You know how to ball
I know Aristotle
What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh . . .
Nightmares.
HEYYYY! I can't tell whether I love this one shot or actually despise it- but anyway I wanted to post so there ya go! hope you enjoy!!!!!
P.S: Remember you can give requests whenever you want, I'm sure I will get round to them!
Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have recuring dreams about eddie, your best friend's, death and you go to your loving boyfriend for help.
Warnings: minor panic attack, death, crying, mentions of funerals, my writing
Steve was fast asleep after a long day’s work when he got woken up by the sound of soft knocks through his window. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you with tears streaming down your face. Steve scrambled himself out of bed, throwing the covers off of him and going over to the window, pulling it open and pulling you into his arms. He stroked your hair as you pull yourself closer to him, whimpering in his arms “shh, shh it’s okay, you’re okay” He whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s my f-fault, I didn’t- “ You tell him, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s neck. You had been having consistent nightmares for weeks ever since that night with Eddie...and the bats. You would wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, with tears running down your cheeks. They’re normally bad, but this was the worst one by far. Sou had been trying to stay awake to avoid the dreams and reminders that your best friend was gone, but as soon as you got home from work that day you couldn’t take it and fell asleep on your floor with your book in hand only to be greeted with the same recurring dream. Steve had offered for you to stay at his house till the dreams stopped as he could normally soothe you back into your normal sleep patterns with dreamless sleep, but you declined telling him that ‘you didn’t want to intrude’. “You didn’t do what, baby?” he spoke softly to you, not wanting to upset you anymore than you already were.
“I- I didn’t try to stop him... I didn’t protect him!” You admit to him as your breathing started to pick up again. Steve’s heart broke a little at you, telling him that, looking down at you with saddened eyes, he tucked a piece of your loose hair behind your eyes. “no, Eddie wanted to protect you, that’s why he went to distract them,” Steve told you with a sad smile and pulling your head towards his chest as he knew you liked to listen to his heartbeat. You didn’t say anything and just softly cried into his chest as he stroked your hair and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You were very grateful to Steve. He was always there for you no matter what and would always calm you down when you needed it.
“Shh, baby, remember what we talked about? In and out, that’s it” Steve showed you that to do feeling you follow along with him and your crying starts to stop and your breathing starts to slow.
“I miss him...” You tell Steve weakly as you had now stopped crying and were now just liking Steve’s touch. “Shh, know you do baby, we all do..” Steve sighed, kissing your temple once again
“His funeral’s coming up, i dont know if anyone’s gonna come..” You sigh softly into steve’s shirt
“I know, at least he’ll have all the people who actually care about him there instead of a bunch of nobody’s, right?” Steve asked, looking down at you a little, getting a nod in return from you.
“Yeah that’s true, he didn’t like many people anyways… I have to write a speech for it and i dont know what to say.”
“I think you should just speak from the heart, share a few memories? You know, that sorta’ stuff!”
“Yeah, yeah, he’d like that.” You nodded to yourself, agreeing with Steve and his ideas.
“I think I’m gonna wear that tux you like, but Eddie did say that it looked stupid,” Steve chuckled, thinking back to the memory. “He didn’t think you looked stupid, he was only making fun,” You told Steve, smiling up at him and joining in on the laughter.
“What are you thinking about wearing?” Steve asked, tilting his head slightly.
You think for a moment; you had been tossing between ideas for a while now but none seemed as perfect as one.
You smiled saying to Steve, “You know that little black dress he always liked? The one he said I had to take off before our first date because ‘it was too scandalous’? Think i might tease him with that one”
“That is such a good idea, he’d hate us” You both laugh together remembering your friend.
After a few moments of silence you speak up, “I’m so tired..can we go to sleep?”
Stevenodded to you and picked you up and took you over to his bed and set you down softly where you fell asleep almost instantly.
Steve looked at you with loving yet sad eyes, he hated that you had to feel like this. You had just lost your best friend of sixteen years and no one knew the real reason other than the party and everyone involved in the incident a few weeks back.
“I love you baby, he loves you too..I know he’s so proud of you..and so am I.” Steve whispered as he drifted off with you.
INTRODUCTION/MASTERLIST
Hiya!!! I’m Angel, I’m a wanna be writer who honestly doesn’t know what to do with her life so I fantasise over fictional characters,,, Just like everyone else on this app!
P.S: If you wanna send me requests on what to write, go for it! I will read them no matter how detailed!!!
Who Do I Write For?
Stranger Things
Mike Wheeler ✿ ❖
Lucas Sinclair ✿ ❖
Steve Harrington ✿ ❖
Eddie Munson ✿ ❖
(I am willing to try writing for other people but it may not be as up to standard as my mains)
The Umbrella Academy
Five Hargreeves - ✿ ❖ ★
Diego Hargreeves ✿ ❖ ★
Ben Hargreeves (Sparrow! or Umbrella!) ✿ ❖ ★
(I am willing to try writing for other people but it may not be as up to standard as my mains)
Marvel
bucky barnes ✿ ❖ ★
peter parker (andrew and tom) ✿ ❖ ★
(plus anyone else bc i dont care) ✿ ❖ ★
What Do I Write?
Fluff ✿
Angst ❖
Smut ★
"He's an idiot." Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
❥ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6k
❥ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sweet!Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
❥ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.
❥ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI! 18+ content! Explicit language. Smut with undertones of fluff, and a little angst (if you squint). Unprotected penetrative sex, f!receiving oral sex, past casual relationship with Eddie.
❥ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first post, nerve wracking as hell !! I think I got a bit carried away !
You stare at the phone blankly after hanging it up. It was a call that you had been all but unfamiliar with receiving, but it conflicted you all the same each time. And always went the same way. He would make fake niceties, ask you shallow questions about your day and try to keep up some small talk before, inevitably, asking the same damn question.
“Do you wanna come over tonight?”
You huffed in annoyance each time, making a half-hearted attempt to resist and trying to conjure up some lame excuse not to, but each time you would end the call with a reluctant ‘Fine, Eddie, I’ll be there.’ You hated yourself for being persuaded so easily. It was basically routine at this point, and it was stupid of you to even pick up the phone in the first place. As soon as you heard his voice on the other line, you should’ve hung up on him. You always think these things are so easy to do until you have to do them, until you hear his sultry voice pleading on the other end of the phone for just one more time. You let yourself think, in that moment, that maybe it’ll be different for once. It’s a stupid, short-lived belief.
Even so, you find yourself sat in front of your vanity again, brushing your hair and curling your eyelashes in hopes of impressing him. Maybe if your cheeks are a little more rosy, your eyelids a little more colourful, he might change how he feels about you. He might come to the revelation that he wants more than just sex this time. You know your efforts are futile, as long as your clothes are easy to take off he couldn’t care less about anything else, but it makes you feel better for a few moments to let yourself believe otherwise is true. You reluctantly slip on a matching set of underwear, lacy and baby pink. Very intentional. You know you look good, and you know that Eddie will appreciate it. You realize that this is the reason he expects the same thing every time—because you deliver it. You curse yourself for it. Shaking the thought from your head, you step into a short pink dress, throwing a cable-knit cardigan on top.
You try not to think as you walk down the stairs, out of your house, and down the street to his. You consider turning back about a million times, but you end up at his trailer before you can actually muster the courage to do it. You knock on the door a couple times, waiting patiently, stupidly, for a response. Then again when you don’t receive an answer, the action proving ultimately as useless as the first one. You raise onto your tiptoes to try peek through the window, and you find that the trailer is completely empty inside. Your face grows warm as you look around the trailer park, realizing no one is around or waiting for you.
Tears threaten your eyes, and you forcefully blink them away before they get the chance to well. You shake your head, promising yourself that you won’t be brought down by the behaviour of Eddie Munson. Not again. You turn and make your way back down the street, your shoulders slumping. The street is desolate and lifeless, the late hour clearing the pedestrians from wandering and leaving you alone on the road. That is, until headlights shine from behind you, casting your shadow on the concrete front of you.
A familiar burgundy BMW slows as it approaches, stopping beside you. The tinted window rolls down, and you’re met with the face of Steve Harrington. You brush a stray hair from your face, then attempt to clean the smudged mascara from beneath your eyes with the knuckle of your thumb.
“Hey, L/N,” he drapes his arm over the door, “what are you doing out here?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked as he looks up and down the dark street. You’re slightly surprised to hear the concern in his voice. Although, you suppose, you’ve seen him around and you hang around a lot of the same people. Besides, it’s kind of impossible to roam the halls of Hawkins High School and never hear the name King Steve. You’ve had quite a bit of interaction with this boy, but the significance of your friendship only really occurs to you the moment that he stops his drive to talk to you.
You shrug your shoulders, and you feel your cheeks grow rosy as you realize you have to find a way to avoid telling him the truth for the sake of your own dignity. He raises an eyebrow at you, “It’s late, you know,” he says, pointing out the obvious. You feign a small, agreeing smile, nodding your head as you avert your gaze to the ground. You open your mouth to speak, hesitating when you try to figure out what to say, “I know. I, um,” you shake your head, “I was just on the way home.”
He’s clearly dissatisfied with your response, concern still evident on his face when he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “That’s awfully vague,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Here, you want a ride?” he asks, gripping the stick shift and switching back into drive, his gaze unwavering.
You blink at him, slightly surprised by the invitation, “No, that's okay, Steve.”
You purse your lips into a polite smile, and he gives you a disapproving frown along with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. He opens the door opposite to him, a gesture for you to get in. His tone is persistent but gentle, “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the empty seat beside him, “Let me at least get you off the street. You can chill at my place, just to… you know, not be alone.”
You carefully consider his offer, pulling your lower lip between your teeth in thought, a subconscious attempt to suppress the smile that tries to pull your cheeks. You dip your chin, soon decidedly trotting your way around the front of his car and slipping through the passenger door. His arm crosses your body as he shuts it beside you with a soft thud, before he returns his grip back to the steering wheel. You lay your hands in your lap, watching yourself fiddle with your fingers. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never been alone with this boy. The car is quiet for a beat, the low hum of the engine bringing ambience to the space. You realize that you feel a bit less lonesome now, being in this car with him. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you wonder if he knows that he’s saved you from a harrowing, pitiful night at home alone.
“Thanks,” you mutter, needlessly ashamed to say it.
He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he says as he turns to look at you, his expression curious once again. “Where were you coming from?”
You scrunch your nose and bring your gaze back down to your nervous, fidgeting fingers. “Nowhere,” you lie, the familiarity of embarrassment crawling up your neck.
He gives you a comforting half-smile, his eyes shifting back to the road now that he has you talking, the engine turning and thrusting the vehicle forward. “No, come on.”
You hide your face with your hands, an action you realize is meaningless as he’s not even looking at you anymore, “God, it’s embarrassing.”
He smiles amusedly when he senses your unease. He remains wordless, the quiet itself urging you to continue. “I went to… um, Eddie’s place.” The words leave your mouth reluctantly, humiliating and heavy on your tongue.
You see his eyes widen a bit as he processes what you’ve said. “No kidding,” He says with a scoff, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Munson?”
Your chest tightens, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed by your actions or Steve’s reaction. “Yes, Munson,” you huff, “but nothing happened.”
He seems to lose some amusement from your clarification, potentially hoping for a juicier outcome. To your surprise, he doesn’t press any further. You were glad to see him bring his focus back to the road, going back to quietly navigating the stark streets for the remainder of the drive. You watch the unlit houses go by through the window, cruising by streets you only faintly recognize. Before you know it, Steve is pulling into his driveway and leading you up the small steps to his front door. He coolly unlocks it and opens it for you, welcoming you into the darkness of his living room. Light creeps in from a small light in the kitchen, allowing you to just barely make out the outline of his furniture.
You squint your eyes, lingering in his foyer once you’ve hung up your sweater. He sets down his keys and heads towards his staircase. “Are your parents home?” you ask tentatively.
“Nope,” he replies, “they’re in Chicago for the weekend.”
He throws the words away, moving into his house without a second thought, apparently used to being alone. It’s only when he disappears into the kitchen that you think to catch up to him, finding him with a crisp can of Coke already opened. He leans against the open door of his refrigerator, his head tipping back as he takes a swig. You stand in the doorway, your eyes trailing up his exposed neck, moles sparsely trickling along his flesh and adams apple as it bobs with deep gulps. Your eyes snap back to his face when he speaks again, “Want something to drink?”
You shake your head and murmur a sheepish ‘That’s okay, thank you’. He nods and moves past you, travelling across the long distance between his kitchen and his living room. You follow behind him, your head turning every which way to take in his house. It’s spacious, tasteful, but you can’t help but notice its overbearing hollowness. The halls are empty and dark, any sign of liveliness or family apparently absent. You wonder how often his parents must be gone for the house to be this pristine, practically untouched. You clear your throat, taking a seat next to him on the couch, sure to keep a safe distance between the two of you.
“What were you doing at Eddie’s house?” Steve questions you again, breaking the silence and setting his elbows on his knees. You recognize an edge that suggests more than just innocent curiosity; an insistence that makes you wonder if he’s truly interested in your answer rather than simply enticed by the gossip.
“Um,” you wet your lips, “he wasn’t even there, actually.” Your mouth dries up as you say it, the reminder digging a pit in your stomach. He tilts his head to the side, clearly not understanding.
“Hm? Why not?”
You raise your shoulders, letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “He was supposed to be.”
Uncertainty flickers on his face, and his expression softens when he realizes the implication. “Oh,” he utters, his voice quieter now, “I see.” He leans back against the couch, looking down at his lap.
“It’s not a big deal,” the words tumble out, quick to reassure him. “We’re not, like, together or anything. Just… kinda sucks.” His eyes find yours as you speak, actively searching for any sign of doubt on your face. You press your lips together, “It’s fine.”
“Okay,” he nods slowly, not entirely convinced of your apathy. “Well, he’s a dick, you hope you know.”
Your lips curl, eased by his attempt to sympathize with your being stood up. You wave him off. “Oh, whatever.”
“Seriously,” he persists, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of his Coke.
You shrug your shoulders, “It’s Eddie.”
“I guess. Still a dick move,” his voice softens. “I mean, no dude should get to stand anyone up.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly careful to choose the right words. “You don't deserve that. You’re… a really nice girl.”
“Nice?”
Steve keeps your gaze when he continues, “Yeah. He’s a moron.” He tsks. “If I had someone like you coming over…” He trails off, unsure of whether or not he should continue.
“What?” you ask curiously.
“I mean—look at you. I’d be waiting at the door."
“Really?” you say. As if you need to hear it again to fully understand what he means.
He swallows dryly, setting his can onto the coffee table and, in turn, settling closer to you. “Come on, you’re gorgeous.” He says simply.
His leg brushes yours, and he doesn’t pull away. You nod, mostly to yourself, and try not to smile too obviously as you look down at your lap. “Thank you,” you mutter quietly enough that you’re not sure if he hears it. There’s no indication even once you look back at him, but you realize that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You feel your cheeks burn up, and you hope he doesn’t notice the pinkish-red that tends to slither up your neck when you get nervous.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, though.”
You purse your lips, somehow embarrassed not to have been told something when you have no control over whether or not you’re told. You try to shrug it off, “Not really.”
Steve is visibly puzzled by this. “No?” He asks inquisitively.
“You know,” you say, trying to feign indifference. “Eddie’s not really… a talker.”
“‘Not really a talker’? What does that mean?” he replies, as if there’s no way he could be interpreting this correctly. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, instinctually starting to feel defensive over Eddie, despite yourself.
“You know,” you say again, hoping he’ll understand before you have to say it. “Neither of us really talked. Not much opportunity for compliments.”
He scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”
You frown and swat him half-heartedly, “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not,” he raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a mock-surrender, “Just saying. Must’ve been real good for you to put up with all that.”
You laugh humourlessly, glancing away from him. “Yeah, you’d think so.”
His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your crypticity. It only takes him a second, and his eyes flit back to yours. He cocks his head. “He wasn’t?” he asks lightly, trying to sound casual though the interest in his eyes isn’t exactly subtle.
You don’t want to offer anything more, admittedly embarrassed to elaborate. You figure he can read between the lines, but his gaze is unwavering, still curious. You hesitate before you continue, “I don’t know.” Part of you wants to protect Eddie’s intimate life for the sake of his privacy, while the other doesn’t really care after what he pulled tonight. Decidedly, you go with the better part. “It was never really about me.”
“What, you mean, he never, like… you never—” he breaks, his eyebrows raising as it dawns on him, “Oh.”
You’re grateful that he’s not judgmental about it, just surprised. Possibly even for your sake. Silence hangs between the two of you for a moment, not particularly uncomfortably, before he breaks it again. “Wow, that sucks.” All you do is tighten your lips and nod agreeingly. “You deserve, um,” he stops to weigh his words, “You should be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”
You’re not entirely sure what he means. He’s searching your face, as if he’s still trying to decide something, and his eyes dip to your mouth almost imperceptibly. He sets his hand onto your knee, gingerly, giving you the opportunity to pull away from him. You don’t.
You let out a nervous exhale as he leans closer to you, the distance between you closing further and further. Once his mouth meets yours, it’s drastically different from the hungry, lustful make-outs you’d shared with Eddie. He presses softly, his lips moving cautiously, still proposing a question. He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, only leaving an inch or two between you. Another opportunity to let you pull away if you wanted to. Once he sees that you don’t, his hand moves to cup the side of your face, and he kisses you again with more fervour. Though his lips are still moving with care, gentleness, there is more intent behind it. He’s eager.
You shift closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you rest your hand on his leg. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, a silent request meant to coax it open. You answer it, slipping your tongue alongside his. You still yourself, suddenly unsure, and wonder if you’re moving too quickly. You’re not sure of how far he’s meaning to take it, or whether or not the kiss was supposed to mean anything at all. Your answer comes soon after when his hand trails carefully up your thigh, deliberate and certain. You lean into his touch, and he gently pulls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and he places both hands on the small of your back. You sigh softly against his mouth, moving your hands to both sides of his neck and drawing him impossibly closer.
The skirt of your dress gathers around your thighs when your front presses flush to his, your legs spread across his lap. His hands travel to your bare thighs before he stops himself at the hem of your dress. He lets out a careful exhale, pulling his lips from yours and searching your eyes. Your noses still touch, his breath fans hotly against your face, and you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.
“It’s okay,” you whisper reassuringly, answering the question he hasn’t yet asked aloud.
“No, I…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. He swallows once, then utters quietly, “Upstairs?”
The single word earns a fervent nod from you, and you lift yourself from his lap, offering your hand to him. He hastily takes it, moving in front of you to lead you out of the living room and up his staircase. Once you’ve made it to his room, he shuts the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’. He crosses the room with only a couple strides, his hands again holding your face and bringing you into another kiss before you can even make it to the bed. He walks you backwards and only breaks away from your lips once the back of your legs bump against it, then he lowers you gently on top of his rumpled bedspread. As he crawls over you, his lips attach to your neck and kisses tenderly along your jaw.
He presses another gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours to take a second to catch his breath. His hand rubs the fat of your thigh, hesitating when it traces the hem of your dress. You place your hand on his and guide it higher up your leg.
Steve sits back for a brief moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and causing it to pile in a heap on the floor. He leans back down for another kiss too quickly for you to properly see him, so you resort to instead moving your hands to run delicately along his stomach and up to his chest. He grasps your thigh and hikes it up to his hip, opening your body against him. His hips rut gently against yours just once, and you can tell that he’s making an effort to restrain himself. The growing tent in his jeans rubs roughly against you even after he stops moving. His hand wanders further up your thigh, skimming the bottom of your dress and pausing, almost waiting for you to stop him. Yet again, you don’t. Instead, you raise your arms to allow him to peel it over your head and discard it to the floor, just as his shirt was.
Your face grows hot when you’re left bare underneath him. As he leans back onto his knees, you see his breath hitch in his throat when the lingerie that you initially put on for Eddie is revealed. His hands instinctively move to your hips, tracing his fingers along the lacy material that clings to your curves, his eyes still fixated on your body.
The longer he stares, the more self-conscious you feel, even if it only lasts for a second. “What?” you ask sheepishly, pulling your knees together in a half-hearted attempt to close yourself off.
“Nothing,” he responds quickly, his eyes darting back to yours, “It’s just… Eddie’s an idiot.”
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, your hands reaching out to pull him back in for a kiss—partly to stop him from staring much longer. Obviously, that’d been the reaction you’d hoped for, but you’d gotten so used to being stripped so hurriedly that it was surprising to be given more than a few seconds before rushing to the ‘good part’.
His hands continue to admire your body when his eyes can’t, moving along your waist and eventually cupping your breast. His thumb brushes over the hardened peak of your nipple through the thin material, the sensation causing a shudder to run down your spine. Your back arches into him responsively, along with a quiet moan that’s muffled by his mouth.
His lips travel down to your neck and press hotly below your ear, tenderly making their way down to your chest. His erection rubs evidently against your inner thigh. Despite himself, he doesn’t grind or urge against you. He still takes his time to plant gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, lower, lower, lower…
Faint pants escape from your lips, your chest rising and falling heavily. His lips press between your breasts, trailing down to your belly button, to the soft plush of your inner thigh. You gasp softly, a chill running through your body when he presses a feathery kiss to your clothed clit. He continues to pepper light kisses on your thighs as one hand roams along the side of your body, stopping when it reaches the lace of your panties. His eyes flicker to yours, and you answer the question he means to ask with a keen nod of your head.
A finger hooks the material, sliding them down your legs smoothly. Once they pass your thighs, knees, and ankles, he balls up your underwear and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands around your legs to pull you closer to him.
Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. Your cunt pulses desperately, the almost torturous pace he’s setting already making your head spin. He evasively pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and in its place, he slides his middle finger to glide along your folds. He slips it in tentatively, his eyes wide as he looks up at you for even a semblance of hesitance or doubt. All he’s met with is the soft gasp that’s drawn from your lips, a clear green light for him to continue. Pushing deeper into your soaking entrance, his finger curls and his lips attach to your clit, suckling. This earns another gasp, the pretty noises coming from your mouth growing more consistent once his finger starts to slip in and out of you.
His tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and he slides his index finger alongside his middle, his thick digits already starting to stretch you out as they move with mesmerizing care. You have to make an effort not to tug too hard on his hair when your fingers thread through it, your knees draping over his shoulders. With his tongue lapping and sucking on your puffy clit, fingers curling expertly to brush against your sweet spot with every pump, you realize how badly you’d been lying to yourself about ‘not minding’ the lack thereof with Eddie. Because, Jesus, does this feel fucking phenomenal.
His free hand moves to grasp your thigh, encouraging your legs to stay open once they try to close around his head. You start to burn up from the inside, being pushed closer to the edge despite his pace that refuses to quicken to match your rapid breaths. It’s a bit embarrassing to near your orgasm so quickly before he’s even fully undressed, but it’s excruciatingly hard to focus on anything except the waves of pleasure that wade through your body.
“Steve,” you breathe, trying to grab his attention. You tighten your fingers in his hair, a weak attempt to break him away from you, but he persists. Your skin tingles with the sensation of his tongue working against you, and the lust that blooms in your lower tummy begs you to take this further. You squirm slightly underneath him as you mewl his name once again, “Steve...”
All he does is him in mindless acknowledgement, the sound being muffled by your cunt. Once you get him to finally pull away and look at you, he is a visionary. His lips are pink and wet, parted slightly as he gazes up to look at you. His dark hair is tousled by your eager grasp and a strand falls loosely onto his forehead. You brush it from his eyes. You truly don’t know how much longer you can wait to have him, and you find yourself driven by this burning impatience.
You urge him to move from between your thighs, pulling him to sit up. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you lay him down beside you and climb on top of him, settling your knees on either side of his hips. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, pulling it off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. This warrants a groan to erupt from deep in his throat, his eyes taking in your bare chest as if he’s immediately committed to memorizing it for future notice.
“So pretty…” he whispers, and it’s unclear whether or not he meant for you to hear him.
He attaches his mouth to yours again, wasting no time to slip his tongue past your lips and explore. There’s a newfound sense of urgency now, his movements still deliberate but considerably more driven. You shift backwards to give yourself enough room to start working on his belt buckle, your fingers fumbling as if you’ve never undone a belt in your life. Then he lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down his thighs, and he’s left in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs, the barrier between the two of you starting to dwindle. You can’t stand being naked where he remains clothed, even if it’s nothing but a pair of briefs, so your fingers move quickly to slide under his waistband. You wet your lips and tug delicately, just enough that his erection is revealed from beneath the fabric.
You almost salivate when he springs free and weighs heavily against his stomach, a drop of precum gathered at the pink tip. You can’t help but reach to wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. His reaction is immediate; his eyebrows creasing, his lips parting with a sharp inhale, and his head tipping back against the headboard with a faint ‘thud’. You swipe the bead of arousal at the head with your thumb, before moving your hand slowly down his length. You’re only granted a stroke or two, base to tip, before he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Easy,” he breathes, seemingly concentrated on restraining himself from ending the night right then and there.
It’s unspoken, but there is a mutual understanding between the both of you that he needs to get inside you, like, yesterday. You lean forward, bracing yourself with one hand and arching your back somewhat purposefully, allowing you to hover above his cock. He shifts between your legs, his hand replacing yours at the base. You’re a bit embarrassed by the sheer amount of arousal that already coats his thick cockhead, though he seems to be in utter disagreement with you when he responds with a guttural groan. He aligns himself with your slick, carefully gliding the tip up and down without yet going in.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs, despite the telling circumstances.
“Yes, Steve,” you respond firmly, almost exasperated by his unwavering hesitancy. “I want you,” you emphasize, hoping the slight whine in your voice is enough to soothe his uncertainty.
Luckily, those three words are all he needs to hear. Once he properly positions himself, all he says after that is a small ‘Tell me if you wanna stop’, and his hands move to steady your hips. Your eyebrows knot, and your chest swells with anticipation, even nervousness. His tender demeanor, the way he looks at you, it’s so overly different from how Eddie treated you. You wonder how you ended up here, with Steve, instead of in Eddie’s trailer as you always do. Coincidence, you suppose. If you had ended up there again, you certainly wouldn’t—
Holy fuck.
The thoughts are swept clean from your head once he guides you down onto him, your mind overcome instantly with the tantalizing stretch his cock brings upon entrance. Your nails go to grasp his shoulders, your jaw slackening with an audible gasp. Your eyes flutter open, your senses overwhelmed with the firm grip he holds on you, the grunt that falls from his lips, the air that punches from your throat with the first deep, experimental thrust.
He holds your soft hips tightly, enough that it seems he’s keeping you from moving any more. “Jesus christ,” Steve mutters, his voice strained. “You’re so—fuck.”
You give yourself a moment to adjust, partly for his sake, especially because it seems if you move at all he’s going to fucking explode. Once you see him relax, you set a controlled pace, rolling your body against his. His eyes fixate on where you’re connected, and you watch his expression change; the light crease between his eyebrows, the lower lip that he sucks between his front teeth, his jaw that tenses visibly. It’s not long before he’s drawing small, breathy moans from you, his cockhead dragging mesmerizingly along your inner walls.
Soon, you find yourselves in a rhythm, your bodies familiarizing themselves with each other and starting to work in tandem. Your hands slide up to the sides of his neck and you let your head fall back to look at the ceiling, your face starting to twist in pleasure. You can’t help the noises that drawl from your lips, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside you so easily. You don’t notice, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Sweat beading on his hairline, low groans coming from his throat as he watches your every move, the way your breasts bounce with every deep stride of your hips. He’s completely enthralled by you, your long nails clawing at his shoulders helplessly. You lean back down, your front pressed to his as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying uselessly to suppress the mewls that escape your mouth. You busy your lips by kissing along the sparse freckles on his sweat-slick skin.
“Oh, Steve,” you moan out. “Steve,” you repeat mindlessly, the word warbled by your breathlessness. There is a visceral reaction to your babbly moaning of his name, a shiver running through his body as he struggles to maintain a steady pace.
Panting, he threads his fingers through the damp hair on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward to look at him, his eyes darting along your flush face. He brings you in for a kiss, your ability to reciprocate lasting only momentarily before you end up doing nothing more than gasping into his mouth. He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand falls back down to your hip, helping to guide your unstable pace.
With a tight grasp on you, he starts to thrust upward to meet your movement, pushing himself deeper inside you. The room fills with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and he starts to do most of the work to make up for your ever decreasing control. His thrusts don’t last long before they become erratic, his hips moving desperately and clearly starting to chase release. You cry out, your hands moving quickly to dig into his shoulders again.
“Fuck,” he grunts in response, knitting his eyebrows together, “That feel good?” You’re unsure if the question was rhetorical, the moans that rip from your throat more than enough evidence for him, but you answer anyways.
“Yesyesyes,” you murmur, “S’good.” You’re almost whining, the coil in your tummy starting to tighten rapidly. You turn into a hot, trembling mess on top of him, letting lewd noises wrack through your body.
“Holy shit,” he says with a strangled groan, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall against yours, his chest hair scraping between your breasts. “You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his tip brushing deliciously against your sweet spot.
You plead his name, pleasure blooming under your sensitive skin and spreading to the rest of your body. He surges forward to capture the noise with his mouth, the kiss only lasting a second before he breaks from your lips and presses his forehead to yours. You tense and arch almost completely against him, your thighs aquiver as you start to unravel around him, barely keeping the ability to hold yourself up on your knees.
He watches you fall apart intently, eyes blown-out with admiration. They then shut with concentration after he’s successfully ridden out your high, his face contorting blissfully as his hips stutter, a weak warning leaving his lips.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”
He abruptly pulls out, only a few pumps of his hand necessary before he erupts onto his own stomach, painting his cock with shiny, white streaks that run down his length. There's a collective moment where you’re both trying to catch your breaths, struggling to find composure. Licking his lips, Steve brings his hand to brush away the baby hair that sticks to your forehead. Without realizing, he bats his eyelashes as he studies your face; your parted, puffy lips, the rosy tint to your flushed cheeks, the heave of your chest. Truthfully, you look a bit ruined. Not that he’s complaining.
You turn over to lay flat beside him, your shoulders brushing, and stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re mildly terrified of what’s to come, how he’ll act after this. You wonder if you’ve just broken your whole dynamic by letting this happen. You trace the patterns of the small bumps on his popcorn ceiling with your eyes, and wonder whether or not he’ll treat you with the same sort of respect now that you’ve had sex with him. Going off of past experiences, you have reasonable doubt.
You feel his eyes on you, and you turn your head to meet them. As if he’s read your mind, his lips curl slightly, reassuringly, and he slides an arm behind your head to wrap around your shoulder. You let him pull you to your side, leaning your head into his chest and resting your hand close by. His thumb draws slow circles on the tingling skin just below your shoulder, goosebumps rising in their wake.
You catch a glance of the alarm clock across from his bed, the numbers 11:37 stare back at you in bright red. Admittedly, there’s no urgent reason for you to have to get home, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You mutter against his skin, not really making an attempt to move, “It’s almost midnight,” you say as more of an observation than an excuse, paying close attention to the reaction it garners.
In any situation with Eddie, this would’ve warranted a dismissive ‘why don’t you head out?’ or, on a good day, an ‘I'll drive you home.’ Amazingly, that’s not what you hear next.
“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”
This takes you a bit off guard, the softness in his voice. Nonetheless, you answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”
“Good.”
❥ MDNI banner by @cafekitsune
Everybody this series is a gem.
Please go and do yourself the favour of read it it's my absolute fave and it's really worth it I promise. Sam really knows what she is doing and is pressing all the right buttons here. It has everything you need love, heartbreak, adventure, angst. And it just keeps getting better and better with every chapter.
Truly amazing!! ♥️
Upside Down Feelings
an episode-by-episode stranger things fic that incorporates the reader into the series
pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (slow burn) and a casual fling with eddie munson
summary: Y/N Henderson is your typical high school girl with typical problems; falling out with her best friend, an annoying little brother, and a chronically unpopular standing in school. Little did she know that after the disappearance of Will Byres, her world would be flipped upside down.
Season One:
Chapter 1: The Disappearance of Will Byers ->
Chapter 2: The Weirdo on Maple Street ->
Chapter 3: Holly Jolly ->
Chapter 4: The Body ->
Chapter 5: The Flea and the Acrobat ->
Chapter 6: The Monster ->
Chapter 7: The Bathtub ->
Chapter 8: The Upside Down ->
Season Two ->
Imagine how Steve Harrington would take care of you while on your period <3
Warnings: Periods
Genre: Fluff
A/N: My first Steve imagine!! Hope y'all enjoy <3
Steve would definitely do anything you asked of him.
That's not even specific to when you're on your period.
That's a general statement.
The man worships the ground you walk on.
When you're in pain, he'll do anything he can in order to help you feel better.
So when Steve gets a call at work from you, saying that your cramps are getting bad, he'll drop everything to be with you.
Of course, not before renting a handful of your favorite movies.
He leaves an aggravated Robin alone at Family Video in order to get to you.
On the way, he picks up your favorite snacks.
Steve practically kicks your door down when he rushes inside.
You can barely get a sentence out before he's popping a movie in and cuddling up with you.
You two often cuddle like this, with you sitting on his lap, your head resting in the crook of Steve's neck.
He'll give you little forehead kisses as you watch the movie.
If he can tell you're especially in a lot of pain, he'll slowly rub your abdomen with his hand in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain.
He knows you're feeling a bit better when you relax in his grasp.
When you start to dose off, he rocks you back and forth slightly.
Once you're finally asleep, he'll gently carry you to your room and fall asleep next to you.