✨Tori✨ 👁️🗨️Requests are open!💬 📩Message me anytime!💌 ‼️This blog contains content that is not suitable for all audiences‼️ 📓I will beta for you, if you need any kind of assistance or proofreading done, I would love to help you achieve the best possible version of your fic📓 🔍This is my sideblog for Stranger Things, for me to gush over great fics, fanart, and gifsets in order to spread some love for our talented fandom content creators!🔎 ❕❗️Obviously since this is a sideblog it will look like I follow and like from a different url, and if I send you asks I’ll use anon and tag this url in it so I can still see when you respond. I won’t be adding stand-alone comments or reply back in the comments though, I’ll respond some other way. ❗️❕ Tumblr—give sideblogs more features challenge
I’ve been thinking about this post all day. In my head it’s a tik tok and Eddie sees it in bed the morning after, and instead of replying he stitches the video and is dead silent, straight-faced as he pans the camera down to the boyfriend in question.
Steve’s got one of those wiggly headbands holding his hair back, a breathe right strip over his nose, and is showing OBVIOUS signs of last nights skincare routine (he’s dewy and glowing, literally).
Eddie pets his head and then turns the camera back to himself (hair a fucking nest, makeup smeared down his eyes, thin red lines just visible over the hill of his shoulders and above his pecs), raises an accusatory brow, and scoffs before he ends the video.
The caption is:
That would be the guy who plays drums on half of our discography.
Fan is absolutely mortified and the video goes massively viral, because how could it not?
Warnings: Language, NSFW, masturbation, mentions of oral sex, and vaginal fingering.
A/N: I’m so fucking horny for Steve lately, and I can’t help it with this one. The thought of Steve being desperate enough for you that he’s crying…
Thinking about Steve being so hard in his jeans, desperate and pleading, as he calls you in the middle of the night — whining, begging. He can’t find any source of relief by his own fist — the images of your perfect pussy too much for him not to see firsthand. When you answer the phone all hoarse with sleep, he’s practically cooing into the receiver.
“Christ, babe. Need you so much right now.”
And at first, you think that you must be dreaming. But the way you ache between your thighs at his words alone, you quickly realize that’s not the case. You don’t let on how he’s effecting you, but he’ll know — he always does. You opt for a chuckling breath. “Oh, Stevie… Do you know how late it is?”
His voice is soaked in pure want, tone quivering, breaths quick. He’s panting, you’re sure of it. There’s a quiet pause and you think he must be crying — or on the verge of actual tears. You sit up, phone cradled against your ear and resting on your shoulder, the chord tickling your exposed collar bone. “Steve.”
“Please, honey? Tried to make myself cum, but it’s not the same. I need you, I gotta have —“
Visuals snatching you up and holding, both your conscious and subconscious mind — your thighs tighten, squirming against one another.
And it’s as if he remembers himself beyond the haze of lust, going quiet. He’s really gone, you marvel. You encourage him, swallowing in preparation of his words.
“S’ okay. Tell me what you need, baby.”
He’s dangling on that precipice, his breaths jagged and weak, puffing out into the mouthpiece of the cordless phone. “Inside you. With my tongue.” He says the last part so quietly, that if you both weren’t crushing your phones into your ears, you wouldn’t have heard.
You whimper, unable to stifle. This causes his cock to kick against the zipper, his large palm giving himself a squeeze. “Oh, yeah? Want it too, don’t you? Fucking your little pussy on my face, using me to get you off. It’s what you’re good at, isn’t that right?”
“Jesus, Steve. Can you —“
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, honey. M’ gonna use my spare key. And when I get there I want you to be naked and playing with yourself for me, can you do that?” It’s an open ended question, a concern for consent.
You agree automatically, outright moaning as he sounds on the verge of tears at your agreement. He disconnects the line seconds later, and you waste no time in stripping down — already drenched through your panties. It’s embarrassing, but you know he’ll revel in it, licking you until there’s not a drop left to waste.
~*~
You can’t describe the ramming of heartbeat against your ribcage, sporadic thumps tap dancing on your sternum, when you hear his car pull into your drive and the door slam shut. You plant the balls of your feet on your mattress and fuck yourself down your own fingers as you head your front door open and close and Steve’s sneakers bounding over hardwood, a stop and a hitched breath beginning at your doorway. When your eyes meet his over the low lamplight that’s stationed at your bedside, you widen your legs — an invite that is RSVP’d. Steve’s disheveled sweatshirt is discarded, his white undershirt next, followed by the Nike’s and his hands greedily tugging his belt apart and getting his fly open to relieve pressure. He finds himself on you in that instance, your arms open to seek him.
You’re tucking your hands beneath his tight denim, dragging it and his underwear down below the swell of his perfect ass, your nails digging in and hands slapping. His heavy cock bobs between you two, before it lays across your soaked cunt, making you bare the tendons in your neck, head thrown back, rocking your hips into his own, mewling as that patch of curls at his base tickles the crease in your thigh. “You’re so fucking hard, Steve.”
You think he must be crying, his voice wet and winded. “Can’t help it, baby. It’s all your fault. Been missing you all night long, ever since I dropped you off.”
He litters you jugular with nipping bites and soothing sucks, ones that go straight to your pussy. You close your legs just as his palm peels his dick away from your glistening folds, soaking him in your sticky essence. He releases himself, his heavy member hanging between thin but muscular hips. His fingers glide along the seam of you, rubbing at your clit, pressing in, before he drags them down and circles the rim of your entrance. “Fingers good?”
You latch onto his wrist, indulging in the flex it makes when he works two digits into your cunt with a humiliating ease. He hums in a marveling appreciate, watching that translucent white spill out from you, and leak around his fingers. “Shit, honey, you’re already creaming on me.”
The thick wiggle of welcomed pressure leaves your walls, and has you the one begging now. Steve just watches you through thin rings of cinnamon, blown midnight pupils, his chest and cheeks already dusted with a rosy flush. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, making a real show of it, and then they’re gone.
His voice is low, deep with command. “Keep your legs open, because I’m fucking starving.”
i actually need to know people's thoughts on this because at least in my experience the answer to this has drastically changed since i was on tumblr in the 2010s and its driving me fucking insane
what's the appropriate way to engage with a fandom take you disagree with on tumblr?
voice your disagreement in the replies
voice your disagreement in a reblog addition
shrug and move on
vaguepost and complain about it on your own blog but dont engage directly
send it to a trusted moot and vent about your frustrations about it in private
bald / nuance / see results
Voting ended onMay 29, 2025
*im talking about fandom takes specifically. not someone being horribly evil about a real-life issue or or blatantly factually incorrect. literally just harmless fandom disagreements or differing interpretations of a text/character/etc.
i need you dorks to REBLOG this if you voted.... i already know my circle of moots and i have the same opinion i need this to spread across fandoms to get a real accurate sample of sufficient size COME ON!!!!!! and love and kisses to everyone reblogging and leaving their thoughts in the tags <3 muah muah xoxo
favorite thing ever is leaving this gif in Ao3 comment sections
because A: a shocking amount of people don't know abt the 'img src=' trick to add images into comment sections, and B: well over half of the authors seem to really enjoy the sentiment
people who dont maintag: here is a full analysis of a scene where i write out what each character considered the situation to be, why their pasts made them react the way they did, and why the eventual misunderstanding was as avoidable as it was inevitable… #rambles #idk if this means anything so i wont spam tags ^^;
people who do maintag: i hate blorbo #blorbo #from my shows
Sadie Sink attends the 2025 Met Gala Celebrating "Superfine: Tailoring Black Style" at Metropolitan Museum of Art on May 05, 2025 in New York City. (Photo by John Shearer/WireImage)
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its just embarrassing when you make a fandom related post and it doesnt get any notes like okay. so no one want to play tuoys with me. no one wants to play with our little guys together. okay thats fine. yeah its cool... puts my hands in my jacket pockets. kicks a beer can that was on the side of the road a little
romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
areudirty
dededos
