etta, dear

22 | chronically ill girly secretly 10 pigeons stacked under a trench coat 🦝 https://www.thegivinggames.org

[eratolasting]

Baby (Steddie x Reader)

Summary: Your boyfriends want to try something...new with you.

Warnings: Smut, fingering, unprotected sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, the use of the word slut, daddy kink, BDSM, oral (m receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, aftercare.

Beta Reader(s): @munsonmunchies (special help from @mypoisonedvine)

MINORS DNI. 18+ ONLY

I accept commissions!

It was obvious you were hot, sweaty, and tired. However, that didn’t deter the two men standing over you, Cheshire-like grins on their faces. 

“C’mon, baby. You can give us another one.” Steve spoke up, giving a soothing rub to your red ass. “Just one more, and we’ll let you go.”

“I can’t, I can’t—” You sobbed, tears streaming down your face. Your body ached, your cunt so sensitive and overstimulated. Your legs and arms were stiff from being tied up like this for so long; your ankles were bracketed by a straight bar that kept your legs apart for them, and your arms connected by a rope behind your back. Your face was turned to the side so you could breathe, but your head was shoved into the sheets. 

“You can, sweetheart. Just give daddy another one.” Eddie cooed, two fingers working inside your pussy while Steve held a vibrating wand against your clit. 

You were completely spent. You didn’t know what orgasm you were on anymore, your brain just mush as the two men worked you and worked you and worked you.

You knew they would stop if you said the safe word, but you didn’t feel like you needed to. Not yet, anyways. 

You barely remembered whose idea this was in the first place. It had all happened fairly quickly.

Earlier that day you were sat between the two of them, absently petting the back of Steve’s head with one hand while your other rested in Eddie’s lap; Eddie’s fingers playing with your own. 

There was a movie on the tv, you couldn’t remember what it was now, but it wasn’t very interesting anyways. 

“I’m bored.” You whined, tossing your head back on the couch. There was a tingle between your thighs, too. You were a little turned on just by being around both of your boyfriends. What was new about that? Nothing—they were sexy as fuck, and you were lucky to have both of them.

You pressed your thighs together a little, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie, who smirked at you. 

“In a mood, baby?” He chuckled, threading his fingers with yours. 

You pouted your lips out but nodded, leaning your head against his shoulder as your fingers slid up to the longer part of Steve’s hair, gripping it.

“Careful, baby. Don’t mess up my hair.” Steve laughed, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

“Sorry, daddy.” You hummed as he kissed your jaw, then down to your neck. It was stretched out and on display for him with the way you were leaning your head against Eddie. You released your grip on his hair and slid your hand down to the back of his neck. 

“It’s okay, baby.” Steve told you, placing open-mouthed kisses to your neck. He pulled your shirt to the side to kiss the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Eddie’s hand slid between your legs, “Think it’s time, Stevie?” Eddie asked your other boyfriend. 

“Hm? Oh, maybe.” Steve almost giggled. 

You lifted your head to look at the both of them, the pout even more evident on your lips.

“Time for what?” You questioned, spreading your legs a little for Eddie’s hand.

He cupped your mound easily, his fingers rubbing against you in a slow circle.

“You know, just something daddy and I have been wanting to try. We’ve been talking about it for a while.” Steve said, smiling at you as he pushed your hair off of your shoulder and kissed your neck again.

“What is it?” You huffed. 

“Wanted to see how many orgasms you can give us—and try out a new toy daddy got.” Eddie grinned.

You bit your tongue, trying to keep from moaning as Eddie put more pressure between your legs. 

“Okay, I’ll try.” You hummed, your eyes fluttering slightly.

“Keep your eyes open, baby. You know better.” Eddie chastised, giving your thigh a gentle smack.

“Sorry, daddy.” You spoke breathily. 

The boys shared a look before retracting from you, making you whine. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re just moving to the room.” Eddie held out a hand to you.

You took it, your cheeks flushing pink. The three of you walked back to the bedroom. 

“Get naked, baby.” Steve said as he busied himself in the closet. Eddie went to the box under the bed that held most, if not all, of the sex toys the three of you used. 

You did as asked, stripping your shirt off first. You weren’t wearing a bra as it was a lounging, lazy day so you didn’t have to worry about that. Eddie stared at your breasts a bit too hard,, distracting him from looking through the box.

You giggled and pushed your sweatpants off, leaving you in your lacey panties and socks. Those came off too, though, and you bit your lip as you watched the both of them — still fully clothed.

It wouldn’t be the first time you were naked and they weren’t, but it always made you a little nervous, like you couldn’t touch them because they weren’t naked, too. 

It didn’t matter, though. Your thoughts were interrupted when Steve brought out a black bar with pleather cuffs on each end. You’d never seen it before, and you wondered how he hid it in the closet so well. You tilted your head slightly.

“Hands and knees on the bed, baby.” He told you. You complied, climbing onto the bed on your hands and knees. 

He placed the bar near your feet and grabbed one ankle. You knew what was happening then, so you moved easily with his guidance as he placed the cuff around your ankle and tightened it, before doing the same to the other. Your legs were spread so far apart that your thighs didn't touch. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t rub them together.

You huffed a little at this realization because you were already aching down there and no one was touching you yet. You needed some relief. Badly. 

“Chest down, baby. Gonna tie your hands behind your back.” Steve guided you with a soft voice. You hummed in response and did as he asked, lowering your breasts to the mattress and lifting your arms behind your back. You clasped your hands together and lifted your wrists enough for him to get the rope around your arms. 

All of this was turning you on quite a lot. You loved being restrained. It made you feel helpless, in a way, without it being non-consensual. 

“Okay, baby.” Steve hummed. You could hear the cocky grin in his voice.

He slapped your ass, making you whimper as your body jolted in surprise. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you wiggled your ass, wanting more.

“Little slut, huh? Want more from your daddies?” Steve chuckled, giving your ass another rough smack. 

You moaned and wiggled your ass again. 

“Use your words, baby.” Steve warned, rubbing your reddening cheek softly.

“Yes, daddy, yes, please, I want more from my daddies, please.” You whimpered out, twisting your hips enticingly. 

Your cunt ached so badly, needing to be filled, touched, anything. 

“Look at you, sweetheart. Dripping onto the mattress already and we’ve barely touched you,” Eddie whistled. 

Goosebumps rose on your flesh when you felt him drag a finger through your slit, your eyes fluttering at the feeling. At least you were getting something finally. 

“Eyes, baby. Open them.” Eddie warned.

You opened them up in time to see Eddie slip that very same finger into his mouth, tasting you. You wiggled your ass for them again.

“Greedy little cunt, huh? Just desperate and waiting for us to give it some release. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll take care of you.” Eddie grinned. 

You heard the vibrating start, and you squealed a little from excitement. You loved anything that vibrated. It meant you would squirt so much and it always felt so fucking good.

They worked you through your first orgasm quickly, Steve holding the wand against your clit while Eddie worked his fingers in your pussy. They took turns slapping your ass, Eddie making comments about the way you tightened up around his fingers. 

Your second, third, and fourth came even faster than the first, your body overworked and sensitive, ready to push you over the edge.

Your fifth was enough to break you down into tears, and they paused only to give you some water and a small break with promises that they would stop after the next one.

They didn’t. Of course, they didn’t.

Because you were here now, working steadily towards your sixth orgasm of the hour. You were sore all over and your cunt ached and ached like it had before but almost worse because it wasn’t aching with want, it was aching with too much release. The sheets under you were soaked with your juices, Eddie and Steve both a little wet from sweat and squirt.

But they didn’t stop. 

They wanted to see how many you could give them. You knew you still had more in you, and so did they. They were relentless.

Eddie’s fingers pumped in and out of you at a bruising pace, pressing into that spongy spot inside of you over and over while Steve rubbed the wand back and forth over your clit. 

You cried out as your next orgasm rose up, your body burning from overstimulation. Your toes curled in tightly and your body tried to move from them, but it couldn’t get away. 

“Fuck!” You sobbed, your legs lifting off the bed as liquid shot from your pussy in heavy waves. 

“Fuck, good girl.” Eddie sighed, working you through it.

The two of them finally stopped at the same time, each pulling away.

You gasped and panted, hiccuping softly as you continued to cry. You felt so good but so fucking spent at the same time. 

Steve brought you some water and poured it into your mouth, cooing soft words to you about how good you were doing and softly petting your hair off of your sweat-soaked face. 

“One more, baby. Just one. Promise this time.” Steve told you.

You sobbed brokenly, but nodded. One more. Just one more. 

This time was different, though. You felt Eddie climb up onto the bed behind you, and then his cock slapped against your sore ass. You moaned, pressing back into him.

“She thought she was done, huh? Gonna milk one more out of you, baby. Wanna feel you cream all over my cock.” Eddie slapped his cock against your ass a few more times before slipping it down to your cunt. He pressed the tip against your abused and soaked hole. He slid in easily.

You were ruined, your feet curling upward against the bar as he fully pushed in. You were fucking destroyed. 

“Can you lift up, baby? Suck on daddy’s cock for me?” Steve spoke softly to you as you cried quietly. You lifted anyways, against your better judgement. Your body was so tired.

You would do anything for them, though. You opened your mouth and took his cock into it, bobbing your head slowly as he gripped your hair and groaned.

Eddie started moving then, helping you out a little. Your body jolted forward with every thrust, making you take more and more of Steve’s cock.

You were so broken, right now; but you could do this. 

Eddie’s thrusts were brutal inside of your abused walls—but it still felt so fucking good. You moaned and whimpered around Steve’s cock, your eyes drooping but staying open like a good girl.

Steve took over for you, beginning to thrust into your mouth as he groaned. It seemed they were both pretty worked up after making you cum over and over for the past two hours.

Not that you blamed them. You probably would be, too.

“C’mon, baby… one more for me.” Eddie hissed, slapping your ass.

You whined around Steve’s cock. You could feel it building up. You couldn’t do anything, though. You were stuck between two men using you, now. After they’d made you cum for all you were worth. 

You whined and whimpered around Steve as the thrusts became faster, tears still streaming down your cheeks as they both fucked into you. The heat was building up in your belly again, threatening to burst.

You screamed when this one hit you, Eddie pulling out to let your squirt shoot out properly before shoving himself back into your fluttering walls and groaning. “Gonna cum in this sweet, ruined pussy.” He warned you.

You could only whine.

You were so fucking tired.

You didn’t know how long it took, but soon they were both cumming. You swallowed what you could from Steve, and once they both were pulled together enough to move, they went about untying and releasing you from your binds.

You fell onto the bed, exhausted.

You felt a warm, wet washcloth against your entrance, cleaning you up; but you were so out of it you didn’t know who did it, or when. More water was poured into your mouth with the instruction of “Swallow,” and you did.

You blinked blearily, staring at the wall. 

Soon, two bodies were nestled against you, one on either side. Hands were caressing your body and soft kisses were pressed to your face and your shoulders.

Fuck, you were spent.

You didn’t know how long it took, but the tears streaming down your face finally stopped and you became more coherent. You blinked up at Eddie.

“Hey, sweet girl.” He grinned down at you, giving your forehead a kiss. “You okay?” He asked.

You nodded, tired.

“Good.” Steve responded from behind you. “Get some sleep, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Daddy?” You croaked out.

“Yes?” They both responded.

“Can we do that again?”

They both chuckled.

. . . . . . . . . .

Tag list: @eddiemunsons-girl @spiderrrling @syddsatyrn @mayeddieandstevegf

[tastefulstars]

WANTED U

A night out on the town ended in the arms of two handsome strangers

eddie munson x f!reader x steve harrington

a/n: i was going to start the requests i have but.........wrote this instead :))))

warnings: 18+ only mdni. unsafe sex. oral (f receiving). dirty talk. eddie and steve are a little bit mean (only a little bit). over stimulation. multiple orgasms. piv & pia. dp. cream pies. comin' inside without asking. crying. aftercare. not proof read.

w/c: 2.5k

masterlist

The lights were low, music loud and you felt amazing.

You were pressed in amongst too many people, you sway and move to the music. Tipping your head back and you feel fingers trailing up your arm and you peer over your shoulder.

Warm brown eyes and soft fluffy hair and you shift slightly, pressing yourself against him and he holds your hips.

You dance with the handsome stranger for a while and before long, another joins the two of you.

You slide your hand up and tangle your fingers into the man pressed against your back and trail your other hand along the chest of the newcomer. He had curly hair tied up in a bun at the back of his head, tight shirt and tight jeans.

He was hot.

The guy pressed against your back was hot.

You move your hand upwards, cupping his cheek and drag your thumb along the soft, plump bottom lip.

Hands shift from your hips to wrap around your lower stomach, one travels higher and palms at your tit. Lips collide against the side of your neck and you sigh, tilting your head to allow better access.

You use your grip on the man's cheek to pull him in closer, his hips and lips press against yours and you're trapped between them.

The three of you sway together, hands and lips wandering.

You hum and sigh softly, tugging gently on the silk hair entwined between your fingers.

"Wanna get out of here?" You ask them, rolling your hips against them.

They wrap their hands around your forearms and tug you away from the dance floor.

The cool air of the night makes you whine and shiver, mouth watering as you take in the two men as they lead you to a car.

They're handsome in different ways. Curly Hair is all soft angles and gentle on the eyes, round nose and plump lips while Silky Hair is firmer, square jaw and sharp nose and eyebrows.

"God, you're both so hot" You moan.

"You can talk" Curly Hair groans, hands moving and gripping your hips.

You're pressed against their car and Curly Hair licks his way into your mouth and Silky Hair moans softly as he watches.

You slide your hands up his sides and grip the back of his neck, holding him firmly as you eagerly kiss him back.

The sound of a door slamming pulls you back and you break away from him, rolling your head and gazing at Silky Hair.

"So, where ya takin' me?" You murmur, sighing and tilting your head as Curly Hair places open, wet kisses against your throat.

"Gonna take you home and ruin you, sweet thing"

"I'll believe that when it happens"

Curly Hair grunts against your skin and peels himself away from you, reaching around you and yanking the door open. You're pushed inside and your skin feels too tight.

They tear out of the parking lot, you're impatient and you huff.

"Takin' too long" You groan.

Curly Hair turns and looks at you as you shove your hand down the front of your pants, fingers grazing against your clit.

"Steve, drive faster" He whimpers, swallowing hard.

You moan softly, pleasure tingles through you as you work yourself. You're desperate and when the car rolls to a stop, you whine.

"Wanted to cum" You pout, they drag you out of the car.

"Don't worry baby, we'll take care of you" Silky Hair, no, Steve says.

They lead you into their apartment, hands pawing at you and making you shake.

You're all but thrown down on the bed, hands everywhere - tugging at your shoes and pants and shirt. It doesn't take them long to strip you naked and Steve eagerly throws himself into eating your cunt.

He's talented, alternating between using broad flat strokes of his tongue and working the tip into your hole, twisting and curling inside you.

Curly Hair mouths at your tits, sucking bruises onto your soft skin and you knew you'd be covered in marks by the morning.

Steve shifts, his nose brushing at your clit as he tongue fucks you and you tremble. He moans against you and you feel the vibrations all the way up into your chest.

"Stevie loves eating pussy" Curly Hair murmurs against your skin, "If he could bury his face between your legs for hours, he would"

Another moan vibrates against you and you shudder, hips rocking upwards and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

"Wha- oh god, what's your name?" You gasp peering at Curly Hair, "Can't really moan Curly Hair while you fuck me"

He laughs and presses his lips against yours before peppering kisses down to your ear, whispering his name as he massages your tits.

Steve presses two fingers into your dripping hole beside his tongue fucking you and your thighs clench around his head.

"You're going to cum all over Steve's face, baby and then I'll fuck you" Eddie murmurs, voice rough and low and he reaches down to press his finger against your clit.

The combination of Steve and Eddie fingers and tongues has you crying out, clenching down and gushing. White spots fills your vision and your whole body tingles as you climax.

"Good girl"

Steve pulls away and leans towards Eddie, pressing his lips against his. Eddie moans softly, gripping his head and licking your slick from Steve's lower face.

They loose themselves for a moment and you watch as they devour each other, fingers traveling down your body to press into your cunt, gasping softly.

"Don't wanna wait, huh?" Eddie sneers at you as he pulls away from Steve.

He kneels between your legs and shoves your hand away.

"You're a fucking slut"

You whine and nod, planting your feet and raising your hips towards Eddie.

"Want you" You pant.

"I'm sure"

Eddie chuckles, shifting closer to you and wrapping a hand around the base of his cock. He presses the head of it against your clit before dipping it lower, stroking your folds and gathering your juices. Your hips twitch minutely with each pass and he groans, grabbing you and pressing in slowly. He watches as his dick disappears inside you, lips parted and moaning.

"Fuck" He grunts out as he buries himself inside you, "Fuck. You, so tight. Grippin' my dick so fucking well"

Your mind buzzes lightly and your eyes flutter as you revel in the burn as he stuffs you full of his cock. Steve's cupping your cheek and you pry your eyes open.

"Cock drunk already?" Steve asks, "You look so fuckin' beautiful with Eds cock buried in you"

You whine, rocking your hips and trying to fuck yourself on Eddie's cock. Eddie grips your hips tightly, fingers digging tightly into your flesh and pulling out of you until the very tip of his dick was resting inside you.

He tips his head back and slams inside you. Eddie's reaching deep inside you and the air is squeezed out of your lungs as he fucks you hard.

You gasp on each rough thrust, soft 'ah's' spilling from your lips and eyes rolling back. Your tits bounce as Eddie slams into you and Steve lowers his mouth and latches onto your neck, sucking his own marks onto your flesh.

"You feel so good" Eddie groans and you flutter around him at the praise.

"Oh, oh god. Wanna- wanna cum" You cry out.

Your body felt like it was on fire, burning up from the inside and you needed the sweet relief of your climax.

Steve reaches down, lips trailing against your skin, and presses his thumb firmly against your clit.

"Ah! Gonna, I'm-" You aren't able to finish your sentence, your orgasm crashing into you and making you shake.

They don't let up.

Eddie fucks you harder and Steve continues to press against your clit and you whine, it's all too much and you never want them to stop.

Steve nips at one of your hard nipples and a harsh moan is ripped from your throat as another orgasm tears through you. You clench down hard on Eddie's cock and he moans, hips stuttering and he presses firmly against you as he reaches his peak.

Eddie hangs his head back, his hair spilling over his shoulders, and he pants for a few moments before pushing you away from him and letting you drop onto the mattress.

His cum spills from your cunt and drips down onto the bed, your heart is beating fast and your legs feel like jelly.

Steve doesn't let you gather yourself, he sits with his back against the headboard and pulls at you until you lift yourself onto his lap.

"Fuck yourself on my cock" He instructs you.

You shudder and lower yourself, the combination of your slick and Eddie's seed ease the way and you slide down until you're sitting flush on Steve's lap.

Eddie moves and sits behind you, his chest pressed against your back and he gropes your tits, lips on your shoulder.

"I said, fuck yourself on my cock" Steve growls and you whimper, slick gushing down his cock.

You raise yourself shakily and lower yourself, whines and moans leaving your lips. You find a steady rhythm and it doesn't take you long to feel the needy desperation creep back into you.

You work yourself faster, rolling your hips and grinding down.

"That's it" Steve groans, hands coming to rest at your waist.

You throw your head back and rest it against Eddie's shoulder as you ride Steve, unable to focus on anything beyond your own pleasure and the big cock buried inside you.

"Good girl. You gonna be our good girl tonight?" Steve murmurs as you feel another orgasm building low in your stomach.

"Yes" You moan, "Yes, yes"

"You gonna do what we say?" Eddie adds and you nod furiously.

"Yes!"

"Yeah you will" Eddie praises you, voice soft and sweet, "You're our good little slut"

"Please, oh fuck. Please, please touch me"

Desperate words spill from your lips, needing just a little bit more to reach your peak.

"Only because you asked so nicely" Steve murmurs, hands shifting.

He presses two fingers against your clit and glides the other further down, easing a finger alongside his cock inside your cunt. The burn of it makes you cry out and you explode, weakly shuddering and collapsing against Steve's chest.

They hold you as you gasp for air, hands gently stroking your body.

"Fuck, can I?" Eddie asks, trailing a finger against your ass.

You whine and nod.

"Uh-uh" Eddie presses into your shoulder, "Need to hear you say it, baby. Use your words"

"Yes" You cry out, "Yes, please. Fuck, oh, fuck my ass"

Eddie shifts, his warmth leaving you and you almost sob, Steve holds you against his chest. His cock still buried deep inside your cunt.

Eddie returns quickly and you hear a cap clicking open. He's pressing a wet finger against your asshole and you relax against Steve, cheek pressed firmly against his chest.

"Mmm" You hum at the intrusion, feeling so full.

Fingers bury in your hair and you relax as best you can, taking everything they gave you. Eddie's slow, working you open carefully and stoking the fire of your desire.

Once he buries a third finger into your ass your mind is blank, body buzzing. You can feel drool dripping past your lips and you tremble.

"You ready?" Eddie asks softly, curling his fingers inside you and making you moan.

"Please, please" You sob, tears welling in your eyes, "Need you, need you both please"

Steve cups your cheek and raised your face, pressing kisses onto your skin.

"Shh, we've got you" He murmurs against your lips.

Eddie presses against your back and you feel the stretch as he presses into your ass. You heave a sob and drop your head, shaking at the feeling of being completely full.

He takes it slow, pressing his cock into you and stilling once he's buried to the hilt.

They hold you between them, waiting for you to adjust.

Your nails rake at Steve's chest and you feel the tears spilling, wetting your lashes and dripping down your cheeks. You were so full, so complete.

"You all good, baby girl?"

"Yes" You sob, raising your head slightly and gasping.

"Oh look at you," Steve coos, brushing his thumb across your cheek and smearing your tears, "You look so damn pretty crying on our cocks"

Eddie shifts slightly and you cry out, whimpering and fresh tears spilling. You mindlessly babble, words tripping out of your mouth and you can't.

Your world had been reduced to the feeling of Steve and Eddie's cocks buried inside you.

"Please so good please 'm so full you both feel so good need you please please"

Steve rocks up and Eddie pulls back and they work in sync, one pulling out as the other pushes in. They make sure you've always got a cock pressed deep inside you and clinging to them and taking it is all you can do.

"God, Steve-" Eddie groans, "Can feel you"

He shudders against your back and you whine softly, tears and drool dropping onto Steve's chest.

"Fuck. Not gonna last much longer" Eddie grunts, thrusting a little bit quicker.

Steve's breathing hard and you can feel his heart pounding against your cheek, can feel the soft vibrations as he moans.

"'m close" He says, "Want her to cum first"

Eddie shoves his hand between you and Steve, pressing against your sensitive clit and it only takes a few swipes before you're clenching down on them both and screaming. It's intense, explosions of fireworks under your skin and your vision blacks out.

You go limp against them and tremble as you're fucked through your orgasm.

Eddie shouts behind you, slowing to a stop as he comes down from his own climax. Steve thrusts up a few more times before he's throwing his head back, spilling deep inside you.

Your mind drifts in the pleasure, riding the waves of your over stimulation and multiple orgasms. Tears continue to leak from behind your closed eyes, soft hiccuping sobs spill from your lips. You can't move or open your eyes and you feel yourself being lifted, gently lowered onto the bed.

You feel a rag being dragged over your ass and cunt and thighs.

You feel a hand stroking your back, another wiping your cheeks and drying your tears. You feel hands pulling you into a sitting position and you whimper.

"Have a little bit of water, honey"

A hand cups your jaw and you feel a glass pressed against your lips, you part them and sip at the offered water before slumping back down.

You shake as they tuck you into bed, curling around you and holding you tightly between them.

"You did so good"

"You're amazing, darling. Gonna keep you, perfect for us"

"Sleep, baby. We'll take care of you"

Your mind drifts in nothingness and you feel warmth surrounding you, comforting you into a sense of safety and security.

You slip into a dreamless sleep with the promise of more washing over you.

[mercy-burning]

The 13th Hour

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer conduct a 12-hour sexual experiment Category: SMUT (this isn’t as hardcore as it could have been, but it’s still explicit, so 18+ only) Warnings: Some language, Sex (edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, female receiving oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare) Word Count: 3.8k

Full Request: “…Okay… Spencer running a little experiment on you, seeing how many times he can edge you… and then how many times he can make you cum, being all clinical and scientific about it, I just can’t get the idea out of my head! Congrats on 1k🥰🥰🥰” — @bluesunrise02

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I’ve read something similar to this before, but I can’t for the life of me remember whose post it was, so if any of you remember, or know of another concept like this, please let me know! I hope this isn’t too similar, I did try to make it a little different than what I remember from the other fic. I hope you enjoy it! Also, DISCLAIMER! I’m… not really sure if it’s realistic for this to happen in 12 hours, so excuse me if that’s a little out there. I hope it’s okay!

Keep reading

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Blush (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer finds something surprising in his girlfriend’s sock drawer after he’s released from prison. Request: Post prison Reid goes to his shy girlfriend’s house and finds a sex toy in her sock drawer. Spencer confronts her. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+ ONLY) Content Warning: penetrative sex, oral sex (female receiving), sex toy (vibrator, female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, Dom/Sub dynamic, jealousy, unprotected sex/creampie, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, soft degradation, brief implied Dom Drop and aftercare scene included Word Count: 6.1k

MASTERLIST

The worst part about my job wasn’t the late nights — you get used to those pretty quickly. The problem was that I never got any warning for when they were about to happen, which meant that all of my plans were tentative at best. Half the time I didn’t even bother writing them down, knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to make it, anyway.  

Luckily for me, my boyfriend was a very stubborn and persistent person, so he would usually wait up for me when we did have plans. Unfortunately for both of us, though, things had been… different… lately. It had only been a few weeks since he got out of prison, and the shift back to normal had been hard, to say the least. So, I figured the least I could do for the time being was to make a note of when I was supposed to see him so that he wouldn’t be left waiting for me.

This is all to say that when I came home from work that night, there was no reason for me to believe there would be someone else in my apartment. And yet, as I turned the corner into my room, I was confronted with the sight of a person sitting in the dark on my bed.

“Spencer!” I squeaked, practically jumping in the air and clutching my chest.

“Hey there, bunny,” Spencer cooed, tilting his head as his eyes scanned over my uniform. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought he was looking for something on them; a sign to prove that I hadn’t actually been at work.

“Someone’s been out late.”

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[snoopyharrington]

18+/mdni, cw: drugs and alcohol mentions

hcing that wealthy summer!steve gets turned on from seeing the tan your engagement ring leaves behind on your finger. he also has a thing for fucking you in the outdoor shower at his parents beach house in the hamptons, half because it feeds into his exhibitionism kink, but also because whenever he’s hosting an exuberant pool party with too much alcohol and drugs for any one group to consume, it’s the perfect place to pull you to without much of an effort.

(plus, you both know he’ll barely last 15 minutes of watching you walk around in a skimpy red bathing suit, diamond ring glittering on your finger as the sun sits high, champagne flute in your other hand.)

[aphrahdite]

𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑 ᰋ 𝓔𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝓜𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

he needs you so bad he sneaks you away for a quickie !

𝓪𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𑄹 fem!reader. established relationship. kissing. flirting. swearing. public sex. breast play. quickie. unprotected sex. creampie. old repost. 2.1k words. ꣖ adult content. mdni ꣓

when it came to you, eddie was needy – much like you were with him.  

it didn’t take a whole lot to set you off, and the second that something stirred in the pit of your stomachs, you needed the other to relieve it. you craved eddie’s touch just as much as he craves yours, so much so that you had almost created your own language for when you needed attention.  

eddie knew what it meant the second your bottom lip would jut forward slightly, big puppy dog eyes staring back at him and he would have to pretend like he wasn’t already imagining himself being buried deep inside you. that he wasn’t thinking about the way you looked down on your knees or with your skirt hitched up, ready for him to devour you.  

sometimes you would be in the most inconvenient of places and feel his hand firmly grasp your ass, or slip under your shirt, and his lips would immediately be drawn to your neck. it was his way of telling you that he was in the mood.

though, you wouldn’t give in to him all the time, and mostly you enjoyed watching him squirm as you tell him just how badly you were needing him, showing him a little more skin or subtly flashing him, and movie night with steve and robin was no exception to this.  

it took all but two seconds of eddie seeing the glint in your eye as you entered his trailer for him to know that he was already a goner. even more so when you waste no time in pressing your lips to his, your body leaning into him and almost knocking him off his feet. had steve and robin not already been there, you would’ve dragged him to his room before he could say a word.  

“well, hello to you too,” his words are muffled against the fruity softness of your lips and he kicks the door shut behind you. his hands reach to caress either side of your head, and he pulls away only long enough to smile at you, lips quirking up at the corners, “how’s my girl?” 

you draw in your bottom lip, attention wavering to steve and robin sitting on the floor not far behind him as they try to throw popcorn into the other’s mouth, “let’s just say... i don’t think i can wait an entire movie for us to be alone.” 

you hadn't seen eddie for a couple of days and the heat between your legs was only growing with every second that he wasn’t inside you. the moisture had started to gather just from the mere sight of him and it wouldn’t be long until it became unbearable.  

a sharp breath is all that leaves him, and he leans forward, “does the castle need conquering?” 

“the castle is seconds away from falling to shambles,” you pull him even closer, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

a thoughtful expression etches itself on eddie’s face, the gears turning in his head, and it takes every ounce of self-control for him not to come up with some excuse to get rid of steve and robin. but he couldn’t do that – no – they had been talking for weeks about how excited they were to watch the new scary movie that had come into the store.  

“okay, lovebirds, get a room,” robin sneers, curling her upper lip with disgust at you both. “or better yet, let’s start the movie.” 

eddie offers you his hand, a roguish grin on his face, but before he can pull you toward the sofa, you lean in close and whisper, “just so you know, i'm not wearing any underwear.” 

“holy fuck,” he exhales, eyes blown wide as his mind is instantly flooded with the idea of you wearing nothing underneath your skirt – taunting him to know that he had such easy access to your sweet spot and all he had to do was take it.  

for almost an hour, he tries to deflect his attention, tries to think of anything else, but even after steve had put the movie on and robin had turned off the lights, all he could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around him.  

he sits on the end of the sofa with you leaning into him, your head perched just beneath his chin and a thin blanket you had stolen from his room covering your body. steve and robin had opted to sit on the floor, the two of them practically inseparable as their eyes remain trained on the screen. you weren’t even entirely sure what was happening in the movie, other than some guy running around with a mask trying to kill people, because, like eddie, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.  

then, as if he had read your mind, his hand that had been wrapped around you, resting across your chest, slowly inches beneath the blanket to slip under your shirt, cupping your breast. you exhale, making sure steve and robin wouldn’t notice, before looking up at eddie as he adorns a devilish grin now.  

“apparently your underwear wasn’t the only thing you forget to wear tonight,” he whispers into your ear, referring to your lack of a bra, at the same time his thumb rolls over your nipple until its taunt. “just be quiet for me, okay?” 

you nod rapidly, already desperate and aching for him, and he slowly starts to inch his hand further down your body. you quietly spread your legs open enough for his hand to fit between your thighs without drawing any attention to yourself, making it seem like you were just getting comfortable.  

with steady movements, his fingers trail down to the band of your skirt, grasping at the thin material and pulling it up your thighs without trying to move the blanket. you stare up at him through your lashes, brows arching with anticipation, waiting for him to finally touch your sweet spot, when robin pops up from the floor to press pause on the movie. 

you had never seen eddie move as fast as he does to remove his hand from your core, thankfully going unnoticed as your chest races from the adrenaline. he presses his lips to the back of your head, though you know he’s just trying to cover up his laughter from almost getting caught.  

“do you guys wanna order the pizza now?” robin asks, unbeknownst to what had been going on right under their noses.  

steve is the first to nod, his hair flopping as he does, “i could go for pizza.” 

“yeah, we could – we could go for pizza,” you say, breathless and shaky as you do causing eddie to chuckle from behind you.  

robin takes it upon herself to call up the restaurant and place the order for delivery while eddie jumps up with a stiffness to his steps that only you seemed to pick up on, “the pizza is on me, just let me find my wallet.” 

he heads to his room, leaving you alone and vulnerable as you try to pull your skirt back down without making it obvious, ultimately pretending you were just fixing the blanket. though, the attention is diverted when eddie returns seconds later with empty hands.  

“i can’t find my wallet. you haven’t seen it, have you?” he makes haste of searching around the coffee table and couch for it but to no avail, even robin and steve join in the search, neither of them wanting to pay for the pizza if they didn’t have to.  

“did you check your room properly? you’re always losing stuff in there,” you shake your head, knowing that the likeliness of him losing it amongst his clothes and dnd stuff was far more likely than you cared to admit. he nods, sheepishly, lifting his shoulders into a shrug, and an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, “you two keep searching, we’ll be right back. c’mon dumb dumb, we’re gonna search your room.” 

grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pull eddie back to his room, where everything looked normal and unturned. as if he hadn’t even bothered to look for his wallet. and that’s when you see it... his wallet... sitting on his dresser as clear as day. it’s then that you realize it was all just a ploy to get you alone and it worked.  

turning to eddie, you see that he’s already closed the door, a proud smirk plastered on his lips as he traipses across the room to meet you, “we have about three minutes before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.” 

“then stop wasting time,” you raise a curious brow as he slowly lifts you onto the dresser. his lips barely an inch away from your own.  

he immediately takes your lips in a heated kiss, breathy and full of want, as his hands run along your body. one of yours gets tangled in his curls as the other glides down his torso and between his legs, much to his surprise. your hand is greeted with an aching erection.  

the touch causes him to jut and he moans against your lips as your fingers begin to get to work, grasping and caressing his dick. his breathing is uneven, hot, and heavy against your face. his hands are quick to assist in unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down for his length to spring up, hitting you where you needed him the most.  

your fingers begin to grow sticky the wetter his tip gets from your touch, and you steal a glance from him. his jaw is tensed, eyes almost closed, hazy with desire, and he groans your name lowly. he connects his lips with your neck, biting, sucking down on your skin, as he hitches your skirt up to reveal your cunt. so pretty and moist – just the way he liked it.  

wrapping your legs around him, prompting him to line himself up against you, he slowly glides himself up and down before entering your needy little hole. you can’t help but gasp at his thickness and it gets harder and harder to control your breathing when he’s working you open, his teeth leaving marks of sweet pain over your tender skin.  

deciding that he’s moving too slowly, you clasp your thighs harder around him, pushing him to fill you entirely. you have to throw your head into his neck to stop yourself from crying out, teeth clamping down on his skin while he waits a beat for you to adjust to his considerable size. and then he starts to move, slowly growing faster. his pace is rough and reckless – someone missed you.  

you know you don’t have time to savor the pleasure, you needed to get to work before steve or robin came barging in. you start to push back against his rhythm, squeezing him until you feel his legs start to give way. he’s close.  

his thrusts are fast, hard, making your body shake. he’s giving you all he’s got. 

“y/n... you first... cum for me,” he whispers in your ear.  

it only takes two more thrust for a wave of warmth to shower over you as he keeps pounding you through your orgasm. his arms tighten around you as his hips gyrate, pushing himself as deep as he can before filling your hole with his secretion.  

“fuck, eds,” you cry out, though it’s muffled by his hand as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his liquids spill from you and into a puddle on the dresser.  

gently he helps clean you up and step back on the floor, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his drawer. kissing your trembling thighs, he removes your skirt and helps you slip on the pants.  

“we should probably get back,” he snickers, offering you his hand and grabbing his wallet with the other.  

as you exit the room, robin and steve seemed to have given up the search for eddie’s missing wallet. both of them laying on the floor throwing a ball to one another.  

“did you find it?” steve asks as the two of you approach, and you snatch it from eddie’s hand to show that you did.  

“i told him he just wasn’t looking well enough. found it in his dresser,” you faux roll your eyes and return to your seat on the couch with eddie.  

robin eyes you up and down, “i take it you also found them in his dresser.” she points to the grey sweatpants you now adorned. 

you open your mouth to answer at the same time the doorbell rings, saving you from the question. eddie simply tosses his wallet to steve and he and robin answer the door. when you look back to eddie, he has an all too familiar look in his eyes and you know that your night is far from over.  

𝓵𝐨𝐨𝐤𝓲𝐧𝐠 𝓯𝐨𝐫 𝓶𝐨𝐫𝐞 .ᐣ bookshelf taglist form guidelines

[levanswrites]

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐢'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

“Prove it, then.” “What?” “Prove you're not a goody two-shoes.”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: early relationship, s1 king steve, 'good girl' reader, mutual pining, unbearable yearning, hurt/comfort, minor injury, bad first aid, sexual tension, soft king steve, character study

. *　✦　. ˚　✦ .

Carol and Tommy have been gone for ten minutes.

"We're gonna go wash the chlorine off," Carol had sing-songed, her smile carrying the unmistakable promise that very little washing was actually going to happen.

Steve hadn't even bothered looking up from his beer as he called after them, “You better change those sheets this time!”

Tommy's only response had been a middle finger flung over his shoulder before the sliding glass door slammed shut.

Just the two of you, now.

The sudden quiet settles over the pool, interrupted only by the hum of cicadas and the soft churn of the filter.

It makes the question that's been circling in your head all evening even louder:

Why had Steve Harrington invited you?

You don’t belong in his world.

Half the night had been spent listening to Carol Perkins and Tommy Hagan gleefully dismantle half the student body, laughing themselves breathless as they picked classmates apart one by one.

And every time another name came up, your eyes had drifted to Steve.

Watching.

Waiting.

Trying to understand which version of him was real.

Because the boy sitting beside you—smirking into the neck of his beer while Tommy launched into another cruel impression of Betty Callahan's lisp—couldn't possibly be the same boy who waited outside your English classroom every Tuesday.

Leaning against the lockers with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, smiling the moment he spotted you.

The Steve who kisses you on the cheek before walking you over to Chemistry.

The Steve who always peels the foil off your pudding cup without asking so you won’t get chocolate under your nails.

The Steve who drops to one knee in the middle of a crowded hallway to retie your shoelace, completely unfazed by the stares while your face burns hot enough to melt through the floor.

The Steve who insists on driving you home every afternoon, even though your neighborhood is twenty minutes in the opposite direction from Loch Nora.

Your Steve.

It makes your heart squeeze, watching it happen.

Watching him slip so effortlessly between the version of him that belonged to you, and the one that belonged to everyone else.

Always something a little distant, though, in those eyes, when the laughter fades and his gaze inevitably wanders back to find yours.

A flicker of something tired.  

Maybe you were imagining it.

Maybe wanting someone to be better than they were had a way of filling in all the empty spaces.

Or maybe...

Maybe being Steve Harrington was lonelier than it looked.

Maybe the boy who waited outside English every Tuesday was still in there somewhere, buried under the weight of being King.

Your worry the tab of your beer can with your thumb, spinning the little strip of metal around and around.

Beside you, Steve stretches out in the lounge chair with a quiet groan, long legs crossing at the ankles.

Against your better judgment, your eyes drift to him.

They always seem to.

It's infuriating, how inevitable it feels to be near Steve Harrington. 

You'd spent half the evening questioning whether you even liked him anymore, and the other half unable to stop looking.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, fishing out a familiar red-and-white pack. He thumbs it open with practiced ease, taps the bottom against his palm until a cigarette slides neatly into waiting fingers.

The filter disappears between his plush lips, and your nose wrinkles before you can stop it.

"What?"

The word comes out muffled around the cigarette, low and amused.

You jerk your gaze upward, heat flooding your face.

Had he been watching you this whole time, too? 

He's smiling.

Not quite the easy, self-satisfied grin he'd worn all evening for the rest of his friends—this one’s a little softer, loosened by one too many beers and, maybe, just maybe, you think it’s the familiar comfort of finally being alone with you.  

Pool lights ripples across his face in shifting ribbons of blue and green. His hair’s still damp from earlier, when he’d cannonballed into the deep end without warning, resurfacing only to reach for your ankles while you squealed and scrambled away, laughing so hard you could barely keep your balance.

His lashes look darker when they're wet, clumping together at the tips, casting delicate shadows against his cheeks every time he blinks.

And those warm hazel eyes—they always lose a little of their swagger whenever they settle on you.

It's profoundly unfair that someone can be this beautiful.

Even now. Even with a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, the lazy curve of his smile stretching his cupid's bow in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

It isn’t fair.

None of it is fair.

You lift a hand, gesturing vaguely toward his face. “Those.”

“Hm?”

“The cigarettes.”

He arches a brow. “What about ‘em?”

“You know those’ll kill you, right?”

Steve lets out the longest, most theatric groan you'd heard in your life, rolling his eyes toward the stars and letting his head thunk against the plastic lounge chair.

“God,” he sighs. “You are such a goody two-shoes.”

Your brows knit together as you sit up straighter, instinctively tugging your cardigan tighter around yourself against the chill of the night air—which, okay, maybe only proved his point a little.

“I am not.”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbles around the cigarette, patting at his pockets for a lighter.

“Seriously.”

“Mhm.”

He isn't even looking at you anymore.

Just turning his lighter over in his hands, fighting another smile around that stupid cigarette.

“I'm not!”

That finally earns you his attention.

His head rolls lazily toward you, cheek still resting against the back of the lounge chair. 

The silver Zippo spins effortlessly between his fingers, his thumb flicking the lid open and shut, open and shut.

Click. Click.

His eyes glitter with quiet amusement, warm enough to make your stomach flutter again.  

“You’re not?” he asks, almost gently.

“No,” you huff, though the conviction you'd started with has somewhat evaporated.

His smile grows wider. “Could've fooled me.”

Click. Click.

He never lights the cigarette.

He's too busy looking at you.

Gaze slowly dipping from your eyes down to your mouth, lingering there for the briefest heartbeat before drifting lower.

Over the neckline of your dress peeking out beneath your cardigan, one shoulder slipping free of the knit.

Down the curve of your waist, where the fabric cinches before flaring into the plaid skirt that fans over your thighs.

Lower still.

To where your hands rest, folded carefully in your lap.

Your cream knee-high socks.

The freshly polished black Mary Janes you'd changed into three different times before finally deciding they looked nicest.

Because, despite everything, some foolish, embarrassingly hopeful part of you had stood in front of your bedroom mirror wondering whether Steve Harrington would notice.

And when his gaze makes the slow climb back to your face, you don't miss the way it pauses at your mouth—the way his tongue darts out to catch the corner of his bottom lip, wetting it absently before the cigarette settles back into place.

“Prove it, then.”

Your breath catches.

“What?”

“Prove you're not a goody two-shoes.”

“I...”

It's difficult to string together a coherent thought when he's looking at you like that.

Most people look at you.

Steve looks into you.

He doesn't glance away the moment you catch him staring, doesn't flush or pretend he'd been looking somewhere else. 

Something so openly and unapologetically wanting in the way he looks at you, like he's forgotten that staring any longer ought to make him self-conscious.

Heat settles low in your stomach, climbing up your neck and spilling across your cheeks until you're certain he can feel it too. The condensation from your beer slicks your fingertips where they tighten around the aluminum can.

And you really don't know what it is that possesses you.

Maybe it's the warmth burning beneath your skin. Or maybe the sudden, irrational urge to wipe that smug look off his ridiculously handsome face.

“Fine,” you murmur.

Before common sense has the chance to intervene, you're leaning across the patio table, plucking a fresh beer from the cooler.

Your hand hesitates over the silver Swiss Army knife Tommy had abandoned after opening the last six-pack.

Steve watches the whole thing unfold, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

You ignore him, turning the knife over in your hand, trying to remember exactly what he had done earlier.

It looked easy enough, one quick jab and a twist of the wrist.

Where had he stabbed it?

Near the rim?

No....

Lower?

“You okay, baby?”

The nickname lands with infuriating precision, exactly where he intends it to.

You pretend it doesn't.

“Need some help?” he teases, cigarette still balanced between his lips.

“No,” you mumble, brows furrowed in stubborn concentration, bracing yourself as you angle the blade against the side of the can.

One quick jab, and the aluminum gives with a satisfying pop.

Triumph flashes through you for exactly half a second, immediately replaced by regret. 

The knife slips. 

It's hardly more than a sting, more surprising than painful.

You hiss through your teeth, blinking down just as a bright bead of crimson wells against the pad of your thumb.

Steve's lounge chair screeches across the concrete so violently it almost tips backward. 

“Jesus—”

Cigarette abandoned without so much as a glance, tossed onto the damp patio where it rolls forgotten toward the pool.

He's in front of you in an instant, dropped to one knee, already reaching for your wrist before the beer has even started hissing.

“You okay?”

The teasing has vanished from his voice, the change so complete and sudden it’s like he’s transformed into another person.

“Shit, gimme that...” he mutters, taking the beer from you and setting it on the ground, cradling your hand in both of his. “C’mere, lemme see.”

His brows knit together as he carefully turns your palm over.

The injury is laughably small—just a paper-thin slice across the pad of your thumb, one bead of blood slowly gathering along the edge.

Judging by the deep furrow between Steve's brows, though, you'd think you'd severed the whole thing.

“Steve,” you laugh softly. “I'm fine. It's just a little cut.”

It's like he doesn't even hear you.

His entire world has narrowed to your hand.

Hazel eyes fixed on your thumb beneath the wavering blue glow of the pool lights, lips pinched in concentration as he tilts it this way and that, checking how deep the cut is.

It’s so... endearing.

So unmistakably Steve.

Your Steve.

The same boy who insists you wear his jacket if it’s the tiniest bit windy outside. Who carries Band-Aids in his glove compartment because you were forever nicking yourself on notebook paper. 

A little bossy when he’s worried, his stubborn streak a mile long when it comes to the people he cares about.

“Steve,” you murmur again, softer this time. “Really, I'm oka—”

The rest of the sentence catches in your throat.

It's so quick.

So instinctive, you don't think he even realizes he's doing it. 

One moment he's studying the tiny cut.

The next, your thumb is cradled between his lips.

Your entire body goes rigid.

You can't do anything except stare.

At the top of his head, where he’s bent over your hand.

The ring of warmth where his mouth seals around your thumb, swallowing the sting whole.

His lips are soft against your skin, his breath warm, and then comes the gentle, rhythmic pressure as he instinctively sucks away the tiny bead of blood welling from the cut.

Your mind goes frighteningly blank.

All you can feel is the way he’s cradling your hand in his palm, the delicate pull against your thumb and the soft cushion of his lips. The subtle shifts in pressure every time he breathes. 

Then comes the faintest brush.

The barest sweep of his tongue against the pad of your thumb—a thoughtless instinct, nothing more than an unconscious attempt to clean away the blood—but it sends goosebumps ripping through your skin, a shiver so violent it turns the glittering pool into liquid stars, turquoise shimmer blurring into streaks of fractured light.

You don't think you've taken a breath since the moment he touched you.

What can't be more than a second or two stretches impossibly thin, every heartbeat unfolding into its own lifetime. The chirping cicadas dissolve into silence until all that's left is the impossible awareness of where his mouth is.

Of where he's licking you.  

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it's over.

His lips part, breaking the seal with a faint pop.                     

Cool air kisses the damp warmth he'd left behind, the cut glistening faintly beneath the patio lights, a thin sheen of saliva that’s slowly soaking into your skin.

Steve sits back on his heels, absently dragging his tongue across his lower lip before pressing his lips together in a quiet, unconscious smack.

Something strikes you, then, with mortifying clarity:

He’s tasting something.

Smacking his lips, savoring the flavor, chasing it off his skin—

And it’s you.

Your blood.   

You aren't sure you're capable of movement, anymore.

Or speech.

Or breathing.

You simply sit there, staring at him with burning lungs and a heart that seems to have forgotten any rhythm beyond him.

You’re still gaping when he lets go of your hand with a sheepish laugh, gently setting it back in your lap. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bad habit.”

A faint flush dusts his cheeks as he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by the sliding glass door.

“Uh... I'm gonna go grab a first aid kit, okay? Just stay here.”

As he pushes himself to his feet, his thumb brushes lightly across your knee—another fleeting, absent touch, so automatic you doubt he’s even noticed it.

Then he's gone.

And only after the door slides behind him do you finally remember to breathe.

· · ·

Aside from the whole sucking-on-an-open-wound thing, Steve Harrington is surprisingly good at first aid.

The kit itself seems ancient—white plastic scuffed and yellowed with age, stocked with mismatched supplies accumulated over the years. Steve doesn't have to search for any of it. His hands move with certainty, flipping open bottles, tearing foil packets, finding exactly what he needs with the ease of someone who's done this dozens of times before.

You watch the practiced way he twists open the little bottle of antiseptic one-handed, balancing the cap against his knee while soaking a cotton pad, and curiosity gets the better of you.

“How are you so good at that?”

Steve glances up, lifting his shoulder in a shrug.

“Practice, I guess,” he says, wetting the cotton until it’s damp but not dripping. “Been playing baseball since I was a kid. Lots of sliding. Tore up my knees all the time. Hands, too.”

You don't ask why a little boy who scraped himself often had learned to clean and bandage his own cuts so well.

He couldn't have been older than six or seven, back then.

You press your lips together, bracing against the sting of the antiseptic as he brings the pad up to your skin.

Steve winces at the exact same moment you do, his own face pinching like he can somehow feel it too. He mumbles an apology, his free thumb rubbing absent circles against the side of your hand while he waits for the sting to ease.

“Almost done. Promise.”

He’s impossibly gentle, smoothing a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the cut with the tip of his finger.

Then he reaches into the kit.

Comes back with a strip of pastel blue.

And you realize, with no small amount of disbelief, that it’s a Care Bear Band-Aid—Bedtime Bear smiles up at you beneath a crescent moon, tiny silver sparkles scattered across the backing paper.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

You don't ask about that one, either.

He’s patient and careful, smoothing the edges of the Band-Aid down so it won't peel away. Satisfied, he turns your hand over in his own, inspecting his work.

Then, before you can ask what he's doing, he brings your thumb to his lips once more.

Only this time, it's just a kiss, light as a whisper, pressed directly over the little blue bear.

“There. All better.”

And it's in that moment the blurry outline you've carried of him suddenly comes into perfect focus.

Certainty in the endless contradiction that is the boy sitting in front of you.

Steve finally lets your hand slip from his, settling back into the faded lounge chair across from  yours. He reaches for his beer, takes a grimace-worthy sip of what has to be warm and flat by now, and exhales like he's just completed a twelve-hour operation instead of patching up a small cut.

You stay exactly where you are, hands in your lap, tracing the tiny blue bear wrapped around your thumb.

And you watch him.

You watch the boy who keeps children's Band-Aids in his first-aid kit.

The boy whose face crumbles like your smallest hurts belongs to him, too.

The boy who spent the whole evening pretending to be King, only to become your Steve the second you needed him.

The boy whose first instinct is always gentleness, no matter how hard he buries it beneath easy smiles and careless laughter.

Maybe the rest of it is just armor, then.

“You’re so weird, Steve Harrington.”

The words slip free before you can stop them, quiet with wonder.

He blinks at that. 

Those wide hazel eyes lift to yours, catching the pool lights until little flecks of amber and green shimmer beneath his lashes. You don't think you've ever seen anything prettier.

A crooked smile tugs at one corner of his mouth.

He lets out a small, breathy huff of laughter, his head tipping to the side in that hopelessly puppy-like way he has whenever he's confused.

“I'm weird?”

“Yeah.” You can't help smiling back, something warm and impossibly fond blooming beneath your ribs.

His smile softens, gaze flicking down between the two of you.

“You know...” he murmurs, rubbing the label on his beer bottle with his thumb. “You don't have to sit so far away from me.”

He nods toward the gap between your chairs, eyeing the empty stretch of patio separating the two of you.

Three feet of sun-faded concrete, and he looks at it like it's an ocean.

Then his gaze slowly drifts lower, to the space between his spread knees.

Dark denim stretched over strong thighs, his hand lands there with two lazy pats—an unmistakable invitation, casual as anything—and suddenly your entire neck feels like it's on fire.

“C’mere.”

You blink hard, dragging your attention back to his face before it can linger anywhere entirely inappropriate.

Folding your arms across your chest with all the dignity you can still muster, you narrow your eyes at him, lips pursed in suspicion, determined not to fall for whatever unfairly charming stunt Steve Harrington thinks he's pulling.

“Why?”

Steve answers with another theatrical sigh and a fond little roll of his eyes.

“Because—”

He cuts himself off.

Having decided, apparently, that explaining is too much work.

Instead, he leans forward.

Wraps one hand around the leg of your lounge chair.

“...Steve.”

He gives you a completely innocent look.

“What?”

Before you can answer, he drags it forward, the chair letting out a horrible screech as it scrapes across the wet concrete.

“Wha—Steve!”

Another yank, and your chair slides straight into his with a hollow clack.

Satisfied, he dusts his hands together.

“See?” He sits back, completely pleased with himself. “Better.”

You stare at him, too flustered to actually be upset.

“I can’t believe you.”

“What?” he shrugs, a small frown tugging at his brows. “You were too far away.”

Then he smiles.

You swear Steve Harrington could talk himself out of murder with that goddamn smile.

Nothing but boyish charm and that unique brand of hopeless, lovesick devotion, so obvious you wonder how he can be so unaware of it.

And before you can come up with a clever enough response, he reaches for you. His hand gently closing around your wrist, thumb brushing over your pulse before his fingers slip lower, pushing into the spaces between yours until your hands are laced together.

“Didn't get to kiss you all night,” he murmurs, voice gone quiet.

And it's so easy, then, to remember why you fell for this stupid boy.

The way he looks at you and just says things sometimes—things so completely unexpected they make your heart stutter, your stomach twist, your face feel like it’s been set on fire.

You let out a quiet breath through your nose, fighting your own smile.

You don’t pull away, but you don’t lean in either.

Instead, you straighten just enough to make him close the distance himself, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Make him come to you.

You feel his smile before you feel the kiss.

The familiar curve of his lips, then the soft nudge of his nose against your cheek. The way his hand comes up to your jaw, gentle fingers pushing into your hair, pulling you closer.

He kisses you until you feel dizzy with it, light with air and heavy with him, until you’re gasping against his mouth and pressing lightly against his shoulders to pull back.

When he blinks his eyes open again, his pupils are dazed, dark and blown wide. He swipes his tongue over his swollen lips, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“You, uh...” His voice comes out noticeably rougher, a couple pitches lower than usual. “You still think I’m weird?”

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your mouth as you lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Another threatens to break through when you immediately feel the warmth there, the faint flush beneath your lips that betrays him completely, no matter how hard he tries to keep up the act.

Before he can recover, you’re standing up.

“C’mon,” you say, holding out your hand. Then, with the most innocent expression you can manage: “Let’s go wash off the chlorine.”

Steve pauses.

He cocks his head at you in confusion, eyes narrowing as he studies the smile you’re very obviously trying to hide.

“...What?”

“You know. Like Carol and Tommy are doing?”

It takes him a second, but then you see it click.

And for once, Steve Harrington—king of effortless charm and perfectly timed one-liners—doesn’t have a single thing to say.

. *　✦　. ˚　✦ .

[athenas-rose]

Back To ‘85: Unfinished Words

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2.6k words

warnings: time travel au, tension, forced proximity, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, season three adjacent

Back to 85 | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Trapped beneath Starcourt after a near death elevator plunge, Steve’s almost confession lingers heavily between you. And after sneaking past Russian guards, you finally find what you’ve been looking for

The elevator refused to stop, it plunged deeper beneath Starcourt with a deafening roar, your stomach lurched so violently you thought you might be sick. You instinctively clutched Steve’s arms around your waist, every passing second felt like another countdown to the end.

Everyone was screaming, Robin was gripping the railing with tight knuckles while Dustin was crawling around the floor, trying to reach the control panel. Erica was shouting something too, but it blended in with the rest of the panicking screams.

“I just wanted you to know…” Steve said suddenly from behind you, making you lean further against him, tilting your head up to meet his brown eyes for a second. “If we don’t make it—”

Dustin’s hand slammed onto a button, the elevator shook, before everything stopped. The sudden halt threw every one of you forward, Steve’s grip slipped from around you as momentum carried you both to the floor with a hard thud.

Your ears rang and your head spun from the impact, but all you could think about was the sentence Steve never got to finish. You pushed yourself upright, rubbing your aching shoulder. 

Steve was already scrambling to his feet a few feet away, refusing to look anywhere near you. His cheeks were faintly pink as he dusted himself off, suddenly fascinated by the opposite wall.

Robin sat up quickly, wincing. “Is everyone okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Steve muttered sarcastically. “I’m great, now that I know Russians can’t design elevators.” He rushed over to the panel himself.

“I think we’ve clearly established that those buttons don’t work.” Robin pointed out.

“They’re buttons.” They argued back and forth. “They have to do something.”

“Yeah.” Robin answered. “If we had a key card.”

“What?” Steve exclaimed. Robin explained that it was an electronic lock, meaning if there’s no key card, it won’t open.

Horrifying realization crept onto your face. “Which means…we’re stuck.” You huffed, an uneasy silence settling over the cramped space. 

Erica folded her arms, eyes locked on the rest of you. “Just so you nerds are aware,” she began. “I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s, and Tina always covers for me.”

You frowned, while nobody replied. “But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack's party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible,” she pointed between you, Steve, Robin, and Dustin. “She’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”

“I don’t care about Tina!” Steve screamed, clearly he was getting claustrophobic himself. “Or Uncle Jack's party! Your mom isn’t gonna find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”

Dustin ignored the commotion completely, studying the shaft above him. “Hey,” he called out, making you walk closer to him. “What if we climbed out?”

Before you could follow him through the tiny door in the ceiling, Steve was already moving, taking your spot as he followed Dustin. You heard them pause for a long moment, then Steve spoke again. “What were you saying about climbing?”

Hours passed with no sign of rescue. The air inside the elevator grew warmer and more suffocating with each second you were stuck, every idea grew exhausting, every button pressed, every wall inspected.

Erica had eventually curled up against one career with her arms folded beneath her head, fast asleep despite her previous rampage. Robin hadn’t lasted much longer, her head resting against one of the boxes while Dustin drifted off beside her.

Only you and Steve were the ones who couldn’t sleep. He knelt beside the control panel again, trying the key slot for what had to be the hundredth time, while you watched from the opposite side, knees tucked against your chest.

Neither of you had spoken much since the elevator stopped moving. Not because there was nothing to say, but because there was too much left unsaid. Your thoughts kept replaying the same moment over and over. “I just wanted you to know…if we don’t make it—”

You’d almost asked him, almost. But every time your eyes found him, Steve seemed to find something else instead, and you couldn’t help but hate it. You’d only known Steve for a couple days now, yet talking to him had become the easiest part of all this. The silence that stretched between you now, thick and awkward, felt uncomfortable.

Morning eventually arrived, and Steve and Dustin climbed out the top again to see if anyone had noticed they were gone. Steve sighed, turning to Dustin who was pacing back and forth while communicating on the radio. “Gotta take it easy on that thing, gonna drain the battery.”

Dustin faced him, pausing his speech momentarily. “The mall just opened.”

“So?” Steve arched an brow.

“So someone could be in range.” He explained.

Steve snorted loudly. “What do you think? Petey the mall cop is gonna come down here and save the day?”

Dustin crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the boy in front of him. “Why are you such a cranky pants after getting to spend the night with the time traveller?”

Steve groaned at his more-than-needed loud tone. “Shh, Jesus Christ.” He rubbed his neck, eyes flickering away. “I just, I acted like a complete idiot.”

Dustin waited. “And? That’s nothing new.”

“I said something I shouldn’t have—or I-I was about to say it.” Steve rushed out, scoffing.

“So what was it?” He asked eagerly, but Steve stayed quiet for a long moment, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t matter now.” Steve muttered, eyes glazed over in thought.

“It kinda seems like it does.” Dustin crossed his arms. He got no answer.

Back in the elevator, you sat alone beside one of the open boxes. The silver capsule rested carefully in your hands, green particles drifted lazily through the liquid inside, glowing faintly beneath the lights.

You couldn’t stop staring, in your hands, was the same impossible energy that had spilled from the crack before you’d fallen into 1985. Your heartbeat quickened, you wanted to open, you needed to, didn’t you? 

Just as your fingers slowly reached the latch. “Huh.” You looked up, Erica had wandered over, curiosity written all over her features.

“So that’s what everyone’s freaking out about?” Before you could react, she reached towards the capsule.

“No!” You shot forward so quickly, the container nearly slipped through your hands. You held it against your chest with panting breaths, looking at her widely. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”

She raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “I know enough to know humans need water.” You blinked at her. “If that’s liquid, human bodies need water or they die.” 

You sighed, reminding yourself that you were currently starving in a trapped elevator. “This isn’t water.” You replied. You glanced back down at the glowing liquid. “I think…” your voice became quieter. “I think this is what brought me here.”

Before Erica could respond, Robin suddenly slammed her ear against the wall, listening closely. Everyone froze, hearing footsteps slowly coming your way, and within seconds, you all climbed above the elevator peering down through the latch.

Steve motioned for you all to be quiet, watching as two Russian men entered the elevator, and grabbed a few boxes before making their exit.

Your pulse hammered against your ribs as the door began to close again. “Now.” 

Steve dropped down, and immediately jammed one of the silver capsules between the closing door and the floor, providing just a few inches of space. “Go!” He shouted for you all to move through.

Robin shoved Erica first, then Dustin, you hurried after them, squeezing sideways through the opening. As you passed, Steve reached out instinctively, steadying you by your forearm so you wouldn’t catch yourself on the metal edge.

His fingertips brushed your skin for barely a second, you flinched away. It didn’t hurt, it just—didn’t feel accidental. Steve let go instantly, as if nothing had happened and slipped out himself before knocking the capsule out from underneath.

The doors shut behind you, but stretching in front of you, was a seemingly endless concrete hallway disappearing into darkness. Steve took a couple steps ahead before motioning for everyone to follow him. “Let’s go, c’mon.”

Without another word, he took the lead. You followed slowly behind, your hand drifted unconsciously to your forearm. To the exact place where his fingers had brushed your skin, and for reasons you couldn’t explain, it still felt warm.

Your legs were beginning to ache with every more step you took, the exit appearing nowhere in sight. With finding the elevator and now this long hallway built beneath the Starcourt mall, the question of you ending up here was starting to make sense. 

You noticed Steve had deliberately started walking a few paces ahead. After everything that had happened during the fall, the half-finished sentence that left his mouth, he seemed determined to keep a safe distance between you two. 

It lasted all of thirty seconds, without realizing it, the group had slowed down a tad, and Steve was walking beside you again. Neither of you acknowledged it, you kept your eyes forward, so did he. 

“You have to admit,” Dustin’s voice echoed down the long hallway. “As a feat of engineering, this is pretty impressive.”

Steve looked around the endless tunnel. “What are you talking about? It’s a total fire hazard.” He gestured. “No stairs, no exit, just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think this tunnel was designed for walking.” She spoke your thoughts aloud.

“Think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting that cargo. It all comes into the mall just like any old delivery, and they load it onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.” 

Steve frowned thoughtfully. “You think they build this whole mall just so they could transport that green poison?”

You thought back to the capsule, the particles, the crack. “I don’t.” Everyone turned towards you, you took a slow breath. “If the Russians are who…made this. Then they’re the ones who brought me here, it’s not a coincidence that I ended up in the storage room anymore.”

The words settled over the group, Dustin’s expression shifted. “Well, if that’s true, then the way back has to be close by.” 

Goosebumps raced across your arms, your eyes flickering around the walls. Somewhere in here, the crack was closer than before, you just had to find it.

Robin broke the silence. “It’s gotta be some weird chemical if it’s capable of time travel.”

“What else could it be?” Steve asked.

“Way more valuable.” Dustin answered immediately. “Like promethium or something.”

Steve blinked. “What the hell's promethium?” He repeated.

Dustin sighed dramatically. “You’ve seriously never read DC comics?”

Erica interrupted with a groan. “Ugh, you’re all so nerdy it makes me physically ill.”

Steve looked horrified. “No, no, no.” He said quickly. “Don’t lump me in with the three of them.” He briefly glanced toward you before continuing. “I’m not a nerd, alright?”

Robin caught the look instantly. “Why so sensitive, Harrington? Afraid of losing cool points to a time traveler?” She smirked.

Steve scoffed. “What? No.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’m just saying I don’t know jack shit about—whatever you call it.”

“Promethium.” Dustin added.

“Yeah. That.” A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, Steve’s eyes flickered down on you for a second. Then, static crackled through the walkie-talkie in Robin’s hand, everyone stopped.

The familiar distorted Russian transmission echoed around you, the same message, the same code. Only this time, it sounded louder, clearer. 

Robin lowered the radio. “Wherever that broadcast is coming from…”

“It’s close.” Dustin finished.

Your eyes widened, four heads watched you intently. “The signal.” You snapped. “If there’s one thing we know about it, it can reach the surface.”

Steve nodded once. “Then what are we wasting time for? Let’s go.” The five of you hurried deeper down the tunnel, following the sound that had started this entire mystery.

Steve threw an arm out, stopping everyone before any of you rounded the corner. There were voices, lots of them, speaking in a foreign language. 

You all straightened back up once he decided the coast was clear. “Okay, that was close” Robin exhaled.

“Too close.” Dustin muttered.

Steve held up a hand. “Relax, nobody saw anything—”

A distorted female voice suddenly echoed through the underground facility, barking orders over an intercom. Steve risked another quick glance, inhaling sharply. “Shit.”

“What?” Robin whispered urgently.

Steve looked back at all of you. “Red dawn.”

“I saw it, the comms room.” Erica spoke up as everyone looked at her bewildered.

Dustin frowned. “You saw the comms room? Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She answered firmly. “The doors opened for a second, I saw lights, machines, all kinds of shit.”

“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin cut in.

Robin only grinned in response. “I’ll take those odds.”

Moving only when the guards’ backs were turned, the five of you slipped silently between pillars and the stairs. Steve slowly reached the metal door, pushing it open carefully while you hurried inside.

You all let out a breath of relief when it shut behind you, though it didn’t last for long. As soon as you turned around, you found a Russian guard sitting only a few feet away, facing a massive control panel.

He stood up, turning around at the commotion and eyes widening once he spotted the five of you frozen in place. Robin immediately stepped forward, repeating the code to him. “The week is long…”

You could only hold your breath as you watched them speak in confusion. Then the guards expression changed, and he reached for the pistol holstered at his side.

Steve suddenly raced forwards with a scream, shocking you all as he crashed directly into the guard, the gun clattering across the floor. The two of them slammed into a console, making you gasp loudly.

The guard shoved him backwards as Steve stumbled, the drew his elbow hard into the man’s stomach. He spotted an old telephone and without thinking, grunted while he gave it a toss, and smashed the receiver against the guards face.

The man hit the panel, before crumpling to the floor. Steve stared down at him, tossing the broken phone aside, and running a hand through his long hair. 

Dustin’s jaw hit the ground. “Dude!” He shrieked. “You won a fight!”

Steve grinned ecstatically. “Told you.” Almost immediately, Erica said something catching Dustin’s attention, as they faced each other beginning to argue.

You found yourself standing right in front of Steve, it was just the two of you as everything else faded into the background. You smiled, “…Good job.”

Steve looked surprised, his confident grin softening. A faint blush crept across his cheeks, he cleared his throat loudly. “Y-yeah—thanks.” He shrugged, pretending it had been easy. “No big deal.”

Neither of you looked away, then Robin’s voice called you back to reality. “Guys.” Her tone was different, almost fearful in a way that shook you to your core. “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

She stood in front of an enormous observation window. Slowly, you walked toward her.

Then your entire world stopped.

Beyond the glass, stretched a cavern unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Steel platforms hung suspended over an abyss, catwalks crisscrossed the room beneath the bright blinding lights.

At its center stood a particle accelerator, its rings crackled with electricity as it spun faster and faster. Aimed directly at empty space, It screamed with power, as the air around it twisted, reality bending inwards, until it split open. 

Blue shining light spilled from the impossible fracture, as emerald particles drifted weightlessly around it, dancing through the air.

Your breath caught. “No…” you took an involuntary step towards the glass, it was bigger, so much bigger, but there was no mistaking it.

That was the same impossible tear that had ripped you out of your own time, the same light, the same energy, the same crack that had brought you to 1985. And now, it was being projected right before your eyes.

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[athenas-rose]

Back To ‘85: Nothing As It Seems

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 3k words

warnings: time travel au, hurt/comfort, fluff, strangers to lovers, cliffhanger, season three adjacent

Back To ‘85 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A deep talk by the poolside mends the misunderstanding between you and Steve. While a set of blueprints leads you into the ventilation system, you make an unlikely recruit in Erica Sinclair. But when the mission takes an unexpected turn, one shocking discovery sends you all plunging into the unknown

The back door slid behind you with a soft click. The house was quiet, unusually quiet. Rainwater still clung to your clothes, leaving a trail of droplets across the hardwood floor as you kicked your shoes off by the door. Steve had barely spoken to you on the way home, and you certainly didn’t make an effort yourself. 

Every now and then, you’d catch him glancing over from the driver's seat, only for him to look away the second your eyes met. Whatever he was thinking about saying never made it past his lips.

Your fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of your wrist where he’d grabbed you in a haste earlier. The firmness in his voice still echoed in your ears, you’d never seen that look in his eyes before. He wasn’t joking, or smiling, just afraid.

With a tired sigh, you wandered through the kitchen instead of heading upstairs. Moonlight split through the glass sliding doors overlooking the backyard, illuminating the perfectly still swimming pool.

Something about it drew you outside, warm summer air wrapped around your skin as you stepped onto the patio, a light wind from the previous rainstorm cooling you down. You lowered yourself onto the concrete, dipping your ankle into the water as it rippled around you.

The pool reflected the stars perfectly, though you stared back into it blankly. Your mind kept drifting back to the loading dock, to the crack, you knew what you’d seen—no matter what anyone else said. It hadn’t been your imagination, it was glowing, waiting, maybe it really had been your only chance, maybe if Steve hadn’t pulled you back…your chest tightened.

You instinctively hated yourself for even thinking it, he’d only been trying to protect you, but a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder, what if? 

The sliding door creaked open behind you, you didn’t have to turn around to know who the only other person occupying the house was. 

Soft footsteps approached before stopping beside you, you could practically feel him hesitating before he sat down silently, leaving enough space between you that your shoulders didn’t touch. Steve’s hands were shoved stiffly into the pockets of his sweatpants, hair still damp from the rain, an old sweatshirt hanging over his frame, the same one he’d lent you only a day prior.

For a while, neither of you spoke, Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this.” He muttered, tone matching the quietness of the atmosphere.

You kept your eyes on the water, giving no sign that you’d even heard him. “I messed up.”

The confession finally made you look at him, though he was too shy to connect your gazes. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” Steve sighed, shoulders dropping. “You’ve been here what, two days?” He shook his head. “You got ripped away from your home, everyone you know, and somehow I still managed to make it about me.”

His words were full of shame, making your expression soften. “It wasn’t about you.” You whispered.

“It was, I got scared.” Those three words hung between you. “I saw you leaning over the ledge,” he swallowed thickly. “And for a second I thought…” his voice faltered before he forced himself to continue. “I thought I was about to watch you disappear.”

You stared at him, a mix of emotions showing on your face. “I know finding a way home matters.” He admitted. “It should matter.”

“It does.” You agreed, nodding slowly.

“I just,” Steve exhaled slowly. “I don’t want you getting hurt from how hard you’re trying to get there.”

Your throat tightened. “I wasn’t trying to be reckless on purpose.” He knew that. “When I saw that crack,” your voice shook, searching for the right words. “It felt like hope.”

Steve’s face turned towards you, for the first time all evening, your eyes finally met. “I keep thinking about my parents.” You said. “They’re probably looking for me, my few friends, my whole life…” you laughed weakly. “I don’t even know if time’s passing in my year.” 

“It could’ve been minutes.” Steve said.

“Or years.” You mumbled, looking back down at the water. “I don’t even know if there’s anything left to go back to.”

Steve wished he had an answer, a long speech to make you feel better, but he’s never experienced being sent forty years back himself. Instead, he simply sat beside you, the way you needed. 

After a long while, you smiled to yourself. “Maybe time is passing weirdly.” You shrugged.

“Hm?” Steve hummed.

“I’ve only known you for two days, but it feels longer.” You studied the boy beside you, remembering how he’d burnt your toast and given you his bed without a second thought. How he’d pulled you out of danger before thinking of himself, how guilty he felt about it afterwards, the corners of your lips pulled upwards.

“Why aren’t there more boys like you where I’m from?” You suddenly spoke aloud.

Steve blinked, brows pinching together. “What?” 

“Selfless.” You answered. “You do the right thing, I’m not used to boys doing that—especially for people they don’t know.”

His ears immediately turned pink, bashing at your praise. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, suddenly fascinated by everything else other than you. “Maybe they got replaced by flying cars.”

You laughed, a flow blown one that made your head lean back, bringing a smile to his own lips. “We don’t have flying cars.”

“Oh.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Then your future sounds pretty boring.”

Another laugh escaped you, you couldn’t really argue with that. Seeing how lively and bright the 80s were, how everyone simply loved their lives instead of worrying about what others thought of them, you longed for a similar reality. 

You hadn’t noticed how Steve had been staring at you the whole time. “I was starting to think I’d scared it away.” He huffed gratefully.

“What?” You quirked your brows at him.

“Your smile.” He pointed out. You looked down, unable to wipe it off your face.

“No.” You bumped your shoulder against his, splashing water towards his own feet playfully. “You’d have to try a lot harder than that, sailor boy.”

He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes back. “Whatever, future girl.” 

Since witnessing the crack again, the suffocating weight on your chest had finally lifted around his presence. 

The next day, inside Scoops Ahoy, none of you could focus on anything besides from the events of last night. Dustin had gone up to the roof once more to observe the loading dock to see if there was a way in, but he only returned with a frustrated sigh.

“The keycard opens the door, but unfortunately, the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun.” He folded his arms. “Whatever’s in this room, whatever’s in those boxes, they really don’t want anybody finding it.”

You watched him with a slight frown in your expression, no one had brought up anything about the crack yet. But they all knew you were thinking of it, it’s a little hard for them to believe something they hadn’t seen for themselves, it only furthered your desire to find a way past those locked doors.

Robin rested both elbows on the table. “There’s gotta be another way in.” She spoke.

Steve eyes flickered back and forth, like he had just come up with a plan. “Well, you know…I could just, take him out.”

Silence filled the small room as everyone turned to stare at the boy in the sailor’s costume with confused expressions. “What?” Steve asked defensively. “I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It’s easy.”

Dustin scoffed. “Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” 

“Yes, Dustin, I did.” Steve rolled his eyes. “And that’s why I would be sneaking.”

“Ah,” Robin mockingly as if it suddenly made sense.

“Well, please tell me this, and be honest.” Dustin started slowly. “Have you ever actually—won a fight?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, while Steve looked personally offended, you were not aware of his apparently long list of getting into brawls. “Okay, that was one time.” He said forcefully.

“Twice.” Dustin corrected. “Jonathon. Year prior?”

Steve pointed at him. “Listen—that doesn’t count.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” The smaller boy shrugged. “Because it looks like he beat the shit out of you.”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose,” he started listing from his fingers. “A swollen eye, a lot of blood, things that all added up…”

“That just might work.” Robin finished.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, shaking your chest lightly. Steve stared between the three of you in disbelief. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Dustin cocked his head at him smugly. “The only reason you’re volunteering is because she’s right here.”

Steve’s head whipped towards him fast enough to give him whiplash. “What?” He exclaimed.

“You’re trying to look good in front of the time traveler.” He glanced at you.

“I am not.” He rushed out, shaking his head violently.

“You absolutely are.” Steve scoffed loudly, though the slight redness creeping into his cheeks betrayed him. Against his better judgment, your eyes met his, and for one awkward second, neither of you looked away. 

Then Robin suddenly stood up, rushing towards the register and reaching into the tip jar. You all followed her simultaneously. “Hey, Robin!” Steve called after her. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash.” She spun back towards you, beginning to make her way out of the parlor.

“Well, half of that’s mine.” Steve groaned, narrowing his eyes at her.

Though you were the only one who saw the slight spark in her eye, the one that said she had an idea. “Where are you going?” You piped up.

“To find a way into that room, a safe way.” She replied. “And, in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up.” She pointed at the boys.

A large smile overcame your face, before you knew it, you were already hurrying after her. “I’m gonna go with her.” You spared Steve one last glance whose eyes widened. “She’s figured out more in the last day than the two of you have together, so, I trust her.” You flashed a grin.

Robin smirked at you, taking your hand. “We’ll be back in a jiff!” She called out behind you, while Steve looked heartbroken.

Steve huffed, before looking at Dustin. “Come on, man. Not my scooper.” 

The noise of Starcourt faded as the two of you wandered deeper into the mall, looking for blueprints that could help you make a route through the doors. 

She broke the silence after a minute. “You gonna tell me what you actually saw last night?” She asked quietly.

You hesitated, the memory of the disturbing slash filling your mind. “It was the crack.” 

“The same one?” She continued, watching you intently.

You nodded firmly. “It looked exactly the same.” Your voice softened. “It was only there for a second, I know nobody else saw it—”

“I believe you.” Robin cut you off, making you stop walking.

“You do?” You asked breathlessly, feeling hope settle into your chest.

She shrugged like it was obvious. “You’ve been telling the same story since the day you got here. You’ve never changed it.” She pointed out. “And, with all this weird Russian stuff going on, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had something to do with it.” 

You gave her a small smile, you appreciated how she instantly believed you without needing a piece of evidence. “Thanks,” you muttered.

Robin nudged your shoulder. “Besides,” she lowered her voice. “I don’t think Steve would’ve reacted like that if he didn’t believe something scared you.”

Your smile faded slightly, it was all past you now, though that didn’t stop the echo of his tone sending shivers down your spine. “He was really mad.” You said.

“He was.” She agreed. “But,” she gave you a knowing look. “…he also looked like he hated himself for yelling at you.”

You thought back to the pool last night, his sincere apology, and the intimate conversation beneath the stars. “We talked.” You blurted, surprised at why you even felt the need to tell her.

Robin’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” 

“We made up.” You explained. At the sight of her own shock subsiding and her grin slowly getting wider, you quickly shook your head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

That didn’t stop her from looking throughly unconvinced. “Mhm.” She hummed. “I know dingus can be a real pain in the ass.” She smiled fondly. “But, I’ve never seen him act around anyone else the way he acts around you.”

Heat instantly rushed to your cheeks, attempting to stammer out a reply. “What are you talking about?”

“It means—”

“No.” You groaned, burying your face into your hands. “I don’t want to know what that’s supposed to mean.” Robin only burst into a bubble of laughter, looking like she was going to tell you soon enough, whether you wanted it or not.

You and Robin pushed through the doors of Scoops Ahoy with a triumphant grin plastered across your faces, and a rolled-up tube tucked beneath one arm. “It is fascinating what twenty bucks can get you at the County Recorders Office.”

Steve and Dustin immediately rushed towards you as she carefully unrolled the paper across the table, pointing at a certain section of the mall. “So, this is us, Scoops. And this is where we want to get.” 

Steve leaned over the table, squinting. “I mean, I don’t really see a way in.” He muttered.

“There’s not,” Robin agreed. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

A look of realization came over Dustin’s face. “Air ducts.” He exclaimed.

Robin snapped her fingers. “Excatly.” She traced a series of narrow passages running through the ceiling. “Turns out this secret room needs air just like any old room.”

Her finger continued winding across the map. “And these air ducts lead all the way…” she tapped one tiny square. “Here.”

Dustin leaned so close his nose nearly touched the map. “Flashlight.” You reached into the one of the drawers behind the counter and tossed him one. “Thank you.”

He clicked it on before shining it into one of the small vents behind the freezer. Steve crouched beside him, peering inside. “I don’t know if you can fit here.” He scratched his head. “It’s like, super tight.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin nodded confidently. “No collar bones, remember?”

Your brows flew to the ceiling. “Uh…excuse me?” 

Robin looked between the boys. “Oh.” She waved her hands vaguely. “He’s got some disease, chry…”

“It’s chrydo—um, something.” Steve shrugged. “He’s missing bones and stuff, he can bend like Gumbo.”

Dustin sighed. “You mean Gumby.” He corrected.

Steve frowned. “Nope,” he looked around. “Pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Steve, just shut up and push me.” The boy planted both hands around Dustin’s shoes, ready to help him up. “Not my feet dumbass!” He twisted around. “Push my ass.”

Steve recoiled, an uncomfortable look coming over his face. “What?”

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin groaned. “Push harder!”

“I’m pushing!” Steve argued. Though every time he tried harder, Dustin barely budged into the vent. You bent down over into a fit of laughter, Dustin kicked his legs uselessly. Steve braced himself, ready to give one mighty push. “One, two—” he grunted. “That work?”

Dustin inhaled sharply. “One more time.”

Before Steve could answer, the bell on the front counter chimed, a familar voice ringing out. “Ahoy, sailors!”

The four of you froze in place, as Steve slowly lowered his hands from Dustin’s backside. You stepped around the corner first, coming face to face with the same little girl from yesterday, hands planted on her hips like she was already going to start demanding for more samples.

“Back already?” You asked as her eyes landed onto you.

“I like my ice cream.” She shrugged.

A few minutes later, after enough convincing, Erica followed you into the backrooms. She studied it with narrowed eyes, then finally turned to face you again. “Hm, I don’t know.” She hummed.

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asked.

“Oh, I can fit.” She said confidently. “I just don’t know if I want to.”

Robin blinked, not seeing the problem. “Are you claustrophobic?”

Erica let out an offended scoff. “I don’t have phobias.” She exclaimed.

Robin folded her arms, coming eye to eye with the girl. “Then what’s the problem?”

Erica mirrored the pose. “The problem…” she looked at each one of you. “Is I still haven’t heard what’s in it for Erica.”

Which is why, the five of you were currently crowded into a Scoops Ahoy booth, as Steve slowly pushed what had to be the tenth sundae boat across the table. You all held your breaths while waiting. Erica looked down at it, then back up at him with an unpleasant expression on her face. “More fudge.” She decided.

Steve closed his eyes, holding back a groan. You quickly looked away, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, a huff of amusement escaping you. Steve caught it anyway, shooting you an exaggerated glare. 

You immediately raised both hands in surrender, smiling innocently. “Go on, sailor boy.”

Erica watched the exchange with a smirk of agreement. “I like her.”

Robin started laying out the plan for the girl. Using the mall blueprints, she explained that Erica only had to crawl through the ventilation system, and once inside, she’d wait until the final delivery left for the night before unlocking the secured door from the inside, allowing the rest of you to enter.

When Robin finally finished, Erica looked at her blankly. “You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me? Child endangerment.”

Robin sighed, rubbing her temples. “We’ll be with you the whole time on the radio.”

Seeing her growing closer to defeat, you leaned forwards deciding to step in. “Hey, uh, Erica?” You whispered.

She looked over with a skeptical look. “Yeah?”

“Listen, you can’t tell anyone this…” you glanced dramatically around the busy shop before lowering your voice. “But I’m from the future.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “And I came here to tell you that these Russians are going to do great harm to our country, don’t you love your country?”

Erica slowly nodded. “You can’t spell America without Erica.” She blinked. “And if you don’t help—well, there might not be a future to go back to.” You shrugged solemnly.

You placed a hand over your heart. “So the future of this country, relies entirely on you.” You pointed directly at her.

Erica stared at you silently, then a slow smile spread across her face. “I just got the chills.” The rest of you waited impatiently. “If you really are who you say you are, I’ll do it.” Robin pumped her fist into the air. “But, I still want free ice cream for life.” She smirked.

Steve had to stop himself from cursing at a little girl. “…Fine.”

Erica clapped her hands together victoriously. “Now,” she agreed, standing up. “We’ve got ourselves a deal.”

You scanned the darkening loading dock beneath for any nearby guards as Robin turned on the walkie-talkie in her hands. “Erica, do you copy?” 

A burst of static answered first, before her voice took its place. “Mhm, I copy.” You heard her climbing around in the vents. “You nerds in position or what?” 

Robin exchanged a glance with the rest of you. “Yeah. We’re in position, you’ve got the green light.” 

“Green light—Roger that.” Erica repeated. “Commence operation child endangerment.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. “Can we maybe not call it that?”

Erica only gave one response before clicking the radio off. “See you on the other side, nerds.”

Silence settled over the rooftop again, you found yourself gripping the ledge a little tighter than before. Steve noticed, without saying anything, his shoulders brushed yours. A tiny gesture, just to let you know you weren’t alone in all this, whether you’d see the crack again or not, he was giving up on you.

Minutes crawled by, until finally, Erica’s voice came on once again. “Alright, nerds.” The relief that swept across the whole group was almost immediate. “I’m there.”

Dustin leaned in a little closer. “Do you…do you see anything?” He asked.

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re all so excited about.” She responded sarcastically.

“And guards?” Robin added.

“Negative.”

“Booby traps?” 

Erica snorted. “Well if I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, and once you gave the all clear, the door to the storage room slowly began to open up, revealing Erica’s standing form waiting for you. 

The room was even bigger than you’d imagined, piles of boxes lined up against the floor, and Steve approached one to cut it open. “I think you should all, step back.” Steve instructed slowly. 

You all carefully gave a few steps of distance, all but Dustin who remained adamant by his side. “No, if you die, I die!” 

Steve gave him a long glance, before shrugging. “Alright.” He moved to pick up one of the silver capsules, it glowed faintly beneath the fluorescent lights. Filled with an eerie green liquid that made your breath catch, there was something strange about the shimmer beneath the glass that caught your eye, you’d seen it before.

You stepped closer before you could stop yourself. “I’ve seen this.” Your eyes never left the container as you spoke, the whole group watching you quietly. “It’s—it’s connected, I’m sure it is.”

Your heartbeat quickened, you could’ve sworn the air around it distorted the same way it had before the crack appeared, like reality itself was bending.

“What if…” you whispered. “This is what brought me here.”

Just as your fingers tentatively brushed over the glass, the entire room lurched violently. “Did the room just move?” Robin yelped, as the floor shifted beneath your feet.

Dustin raced towards the control panel, his hand flew across every button he could find. “What do I press? Erica? What do I press?” He panicked.

Another violent jolt threw everyone sideways, then, your stomach shot into your throat when the floor dropped. “It’s an elevator!” Robin screamed, gripping onto a railing.

The massive platform carrying the entire room plunged downwards at a terrifying speed. Boxes slammed into each other, lights flickered wildly overhead. You stumbled as the force ripped the ground from beneath you, for one horrifying second, you thought you were falling alone.

Then a hand seized yours—strong fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist before another arm circled around your waist, pulling you hard against a familiar chest. 

You quickly realized it was Steve whose arms wrapped around you protectively as the elevator continued hurling towards no end. His first instinct hadn’t been to grab the railing, nor had it been to save himself, it had been to find you.

“It’s okay.” He shouted over the deafening roar, though he sounded just as terrified as everyone else.

“I’ve got you.” He refused to let you go, even as the platform plunged even faster, you squeezed your eyes shut, if you were to die now, at least it would be in his arms.

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[athenas-rose]

Back To ‘85: Out Of Reach

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2k words

warnings: time travel au, angst, strangers to lovers, tension, arguing, season three adjacent

Back To ‘85 | Part 1 | Part 2

After finally cracking the Russian code, you grow one step closer to possibly getting home. But as Dustin catches on to Steve’s growing feelings, during a dangerous stakeout a familiar crack in reality sparks the first real tension between you

“Excuse me, Ahoy!” Robin sighed, turning away from where you were sat on the other side of the counter, the translated Russian message spread out in front of you while your pencil tapped impatiently against the paper. “I’d like to try the peanut butter chocolate swirl, please.”

You raised your head to gaze at the short girl that had come barging in like she owned the mall, a whole hurdle of her own friends standing behind her. “No, more samples today.” Robin denied firmly. 

The girl didn’t look phased at all, if anything, she only took it as a challenge. “Why not?” She cocked a brow.

“Because you’re abusing our company policy.” Robin drawled lazily, you bit back a smile, barely listening as you traced another circle around the words. You’d read the words so many times they were beginning to lose all meaning, there had to be something you were missing.

The girl sighed loudly, looking around the parlor. “Where’s the sailor man?” She demanded, making a look of amusement come over both your faces, it seemed like no one ever remembered Steve’s name.

“Sorry, he can’t help you.” Robin shrugged with a small smirk. “He’s busy.”

“Busy with what?” She continued to ask, crossing her arms.

“Spycraft.” Robin turned back to glance at you, where you shook your head laughing to yourself.

Meanwhile, on the lower levels of Starcourt, sat Dustin and Steve where they were not so discreetly hiding behind a bush. Steve lowered the binoculars with a frustrated sigh. “I’m not even sure what we’re supposed to be looking for.” He complained.

Beside him, Dustin didn’t even bother looking away from the crowd, trying to spot what he thought looked the most like a spy. “Evil Russian spies.” He answered.

“And exactly how am I supposed to tell who's an evil Russian spy?” Steve asked unenthusiastically.

“Tall, blond, not smiling.” Dustin listed off the top of his head. “Also, look for earpieces, cameo, duffle bags, that sort of thing.”

Steve groaned under his breath before scanning the crowd again, using the Henderson boy's little amount of information to help him out. Families wandered between stores carrying shopping bags, teenagers ran around, nothing looked suspicious, nor remotely Russian. “I think we’re wasting our time.” 

Dustin scoffed, yanking the binoculars out of his hands. “Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?” He spat, rolling his eyes.

But Steve couldn’t help his thoughts drifting away for just one second. Back to yesterday, the short conversation you had over a bowl of cereal, the way you’d shyly smiled at him after he’d called you pretty. He shook his head, trying to regain focus.

“What?” Dustin asked, noticing the distraction.

“Nothing—it’s nothing, let’s just keep looking for the spy.” Steve brushed off, hoping his ridiculous costume covered up the blush creeping up his neck.

“You were smiling.” Dustin flashed him a toothy grin, having a vague idea of why that was.

“I wasn’t.” Steve objected too quickly, avoiding eye contact.

“You definitely were.” Only a pause went by before the younger boy couldn’t help but speak his thoughts aloud. “Thinking about how you called the time traveler pretty yesterday?” 

Steve’s head shot up so fast he blew their cover. “What?” He exclaimed, wondering for a split second if Dustin had some sort of mind reading powers. 

“You heard me.” Dustin replied. “I think someone might have a crush on her.”

Steve exhaled a sharp breath, wishing he was anywhere but trapped here right now. “She’s from the future.” He shook his head.

“Excatly, isn’t that so cool?” Dustin grinned. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Besides…” his voice grew quieter. “She probably has someone waiting for her back home.”

Dustin frowned, turning towards him. “What do you mean?” He asked in a more serious tone.

“I don’t know, a boyfriend or something.” Steve tried shrugging casually, though the words tasted strangely bitter on his tongue. His head instinctively raised upwards, squinting to look towards Scoops Ahoy, where you were inside. “She’s got an entire life forty years ahead of us.”

Dustin studied him for a long moment. “You’ve got the perfect girl standing right in front of you—”

Steve scoffed. “Dustin.”

“—And you’re talking yourself out of it, Steve!” He continued, not seeing the problem.

“Oh please, says the boy who found his girlfriend at camp Know…Nothing?” 

Dustin glared at him, shoving his shoulder forcefully. “Camp Know Where, actually.” He corrected. “And Suzie is the perfect girl, minus the part where she’s from our time.”

Back upstairs, Robin had joined you in the back, practically singing to the code to each other to find any hidden meaning. “D’ya think we’ll ever crack it?” She asked.

You sighed, not wanting to think of what would happen if you didn’t. “I don’t know—but it’s the only way.” She knew what you meant. “There hasn’t been any clue about how I got here since the day you found me. And, out of all places, I fall into the back of an ice cream parlor?” You frowned.

Robin's expression lit up, giggling to herself. “Wait, that is actually really weird, weren’t you—”

But before she could finish her sentence, a sharp knock came on the back door, making you jolt slightly. “Delivery for you.” A man called out from behind.

Robin pushed herself off of the counter, going to open up the door. “Thank you.” She took the package, but when the delivery guy nodded, turning around to leave, she lingered in the doorway.

“Robin?” You called out, watching her focused expression.

“A lynx.” She said, staring at where he had walked away, more specifically, the silver lynx patch that was stitched into his uniform. “…No way.” Her eyes suddenly widened.

“What is it?” You called more urgently, standing up to join her. 

“The silver cat…” your breath caught. She pointed wildly towards the patch. “That's it!” 

You stared at the embroidered lynx, then back at the whiteboard, then the uniform. Your heart began hammering loudly as you gave Robin the same knowing look. “Oh my god.”

She grabbed your wrist. “I cracked it!” She yelped, a urge smiling painted on her face as she guided you out of the shop. 

“You cracked it!” You screamed in response, feeling delighted.

At that exact moment, Steve and Dustin had just entered with their shoulders sagged, having no luck whatsoever. “What’d we mi—”

You and Robin bolted past them, both of you sprinting so quickly Steve had to stumble sideways to avoid being knocked over. 

“Hey!”

“What’s happening?” The boys called out in unison.

Neither of you answered, racing into the center of the food court, scrambling onto one of the benches overlooking the whole mall. 

“A trip to China sounds nice…” she stared up at the imperial panda restaurant while you faced the other direction, back pressing into hers.

“If you tread lightly.” You finished, pointing up at the Kaufman shoes store, located right above.

You both turned, gasping at the sight of the clock in front of you. “When blue meets yellow in the west!” You both completed the code, heart souring when you realized your accomplishment.

You threw your arms around Robin without thinking, maybe you weren’t so stuck after all, hope reignited in your chest. “We did it!” She hugged you back just as tightly, laughing amongst yourselves like lunatics.

“We actually did it!” She shouted, as the boys found you jumping up and down.

“What are you two doing?” Steve asked loudly.

“We cracked the code, dingus!” Robin answered him, Dustin’s brows fleeting upwards. 

Steve watched you smile brighter than he’s ever seen before, for a second, he found himself smiling too. But then he remembered why you were smiling, and somehow, the thought that this might really be the thing that sent you home didn’t make him feel relieved, it made his stomach sink. 

The excitement from cracking the code hadn’t faded, but it had changed. Now, standing around the counter as the mall slowly emptied for the evening, the air felt heavier with the weight of what would happen next.

Dustin thought to himself quietly for a moment. “If we’re right, whatever this is happens tonight.” He muttered.

Robin leaned opposite him. “What are we supposed to do?” 

“We stake out.” He answered. “The trucks start pulling in at nine, so we get there on the dot and hide somewhere with a clear view of the loading dock, and wait.” 

Steve let out a dry laugh. “Great plan, except for the small problem that if they see us, then we’re doomed.”

“Then just run, Steve. Make yourselves not get caught.” Dustin explained like it was obvious.

Steve still looked unconvinced, turning to see your eyes flickering around, deep in thought. He hadn’t exactly talked to you since your new discovery, he hated himself for it. He should’ve been happy, this was everything you ever wanted, so why did you leaving feel so soon?

That night, the four of you slipped through the service corridors, quiet footsteps muffled against the concrete floors. Dustin motioned for everyone to stay low before following him onto the roof overlooking the loading dock.

Rows of delivery boxes stretched beneath you, as heavy rain poured from above, soaking you all and obscuring your vision. “What’s down there?” Robin asked.

“It’s just more boxes.” Dustin said using the binoculars. You leaned carefully against the railway, peering into the darkness, until a rumble echoed through the warehouse entrance. 

You could hear Steve panting beside you as you all stayed silent, waiting for something. The guards moved with practiced precision, observing the area while heavy crates were unloaded one after another. 

Suddenly, they disappeared behind reinforced metal doors. “What do you think’s inside?” You spoke over the loud rattle of rain, lifting your head up to try and catch a glimpse.

“I can’t see, just boxes.” Dustin mumbled, squinting through the lenses.

“Give me those.” Steve reached over, wrestling them out of Dustin’s hands, until they slipped free, crashing against the catwalk. One of the guards froze, turning to sweep his flashlight across the loading dock.

Then, something shimmered. Just beyond the line of trucks, the air rippled unnaturally, like heat rising from asphalt. A thin, jagged fracture split through the darkness, glowing with the same electric blue light you remembered from the woods.

Your breath caught in your throat, the crack. It flickered violently, stretching for the briefest second, revealing nothing but darkness. Without thinking, you leaned farther over the ledge, unable to tear your eyes away. 

The flashlight suddenly jerked upwards, Steve followed your line of sight, but all he saw was empty air. Then he looked at you, you weren’t even watching the guard, you were staring at something that wasn’t there. 

“Down.” Before you even had time to react, his hand shot around your wrist, yanking you downwards with enough force that you nearly collided with his chest. The beam skimmed over your heads, drifting away again.

No one dared to breathe, only then did Steve finally loosen his grip, turning to look at you with an expression you couldn’t identify. “What were you doing?” He whispered sharply, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

You blinked, still trying to catch your breath. “You didn’t see it?”

“See what?” He asked, brows furrowed together.

“The crack.” You looked back towards the loading dock. “It was right there.”

“You mean the one that got you here?” He muttered, glancing back toward the spot you’d indicated. There was nothing, only piles of boxes waiting to be carried inside.

Robin and Dustin exchanged confused looks. “There wasn’t anything there.” She whispered.

“There was.” You insisted. “I saw it—I know I did.”

Steve turned back to you. “You leaned halfway over the ledge, you know that?” He hissed.

“I was trying to see it, if only you left me for one more second—”

“That isn’t the point.” Steve’s voice stayed low, but the frustration underneath it was impossible to miss. “You almost got caught.”

“And it could’ve been my way out of here!” Your voice came out louder than you’d intended.

Steve’s jaw tightened. “Or, you could’ve risked your life for nothing.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, only for Dustin to throw a hand back without looking away from the dock. “Guys.” 

The mystery wasn’t over, not even close. Steve’s words echoed in your head long after you’d left from the loading dock. You could’ve risked your life for nothing. But if that crack really had been your only chance, how could you ignore it?

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[athenas-rose]

Back To ‘85: Material Girl

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2.4k words

warnings: time travel au, fluff, strangers to lovers, season three adjacent, slow burn

Back to ‘85 | Part 1

While the scoops troop works on decoding the secret transmission, you get whisked away by a certain duo for a complete eighties makeover—making someone’s head spin

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtain in soft golden streaks, warming your face just enough to pull you from sleep. For one blissful second, everything felt normal. The mattress beneath you was comfortable, the faint smell of breakfast drifted down the hallway, then your eyes opened. 

An unfamiliar ceiling stared back, your heart sank, right, it was 1985. The events of yesterday came rushing back to you all at once—the crack in the woods, Scoops Ahoy, sailor boy, Robin, time travel. 

With a sigh, you pushed yourself upright, wincing slightly as the bruise on the back of your head reminded you it was very, very real. The oversized sweatshirt Steve had lent you had ridden up sometime during the night. Tugging it back into place, you padded quietly into the hallway. 

The smell grew stronger as you frowned, burnt toast. You rounded the corner into the kitchen to find Steve standing in front of the stove with his back turned to you, one hand clutching a spatula while the other waved a dish towel at the toaster.

“I don’t think toast is supposed to be that color.” You leaned against the doorway.

Steve jumped, the spatula clattering onto the floor with a loud bang. “I—” he whipped around, cheeks already pinkening. “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.” 

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “I can see that.” 

He looked down at the smoking toast, lips pinching together. “Okay, maybe breakfast isn’t my thing.” He tossed it into the trash before opening the fridge. “Cereal?”

You accepted it graciously. “I can do cereal.” You agreed, sitting opposite him at the kitchen counter. 

For a while, neither of you spoke, Steve stealing the occasional glance between bites of cereal. The silence wasn’t awkward, it was strangely comforting. “Hey, you look better today.” His expression softened, you blinked up at him.

“Oh, I—I guess I slept good is all.” You shrugged, stopping the spoon halfway to your mouth. “I just kept thinking…what if I never get home?” You whispered, staring down into your bowl.

Steve felt the itch to reach out, to hold your hand, anything to ease your worries slightly. “We’re gonna figure it out.” He said firmly.

“You don’t know that.” You wanted to be optimistic, but every second you weren’t home, you felt trapped.

“No.” He admitted so honestly it hurt. “But Dustin’s usually right about this weird stuff. And besides, you’ve got me.” Steve paused, realizing what he just said. “I mean, you’ve got us, the whole group.” He rushed out.

You smiled gently. “I know what you mean.” 

He quickly straightened up, clearing his throat. “We should probably head to Scoops.” 

“Back to work?” You asked, only remembering now that even though it is summer, people are still employed.

“Robin will complain if I’m late.” Steve explained, sighing. “Better get there now.”

“Then you should go put on that uniform, sailor boy.” You mocked, unable to keep the grin off your face.

Steve narrowed his eyes at you, realizing he was never going to escape the horrendous name. “Whatever you say, future girl.”

Looks like you weren’t the only one who could come up with nicknames. 

The loud hum of Starcourt mall buzzed through Scoops Ahoy as another steady stream of customers wandered in and out. Steve and Dustin had completely taken over the back room, a notebook lay open between them, whiteboard littered with symbols and letters.

“I’m telling you, Henderson, I definitely heard the word banana in there.” Steve yelled, replaying the audio.

Dustin groaned, slapping his forehead. “Sure Steve, why would top secret spy agents be transmitting a code about bananas?” He returned.

You walked out of the door, joining Robin upfront while she kept slinging ice cream cones. As much as you wanted to help them, it was extremely clear they weren’t getting anywhere and you needed to clear your head. 

“I’ve learned to tune them out.” The short-haired girl said, shooting you a glance.

You nodded, giving her the same tired expression. “I think I’m getting there.”

The door swung open once more, two girls walked inside, laughing about something you’d missed. One had fiery red hair with matching freckles littered across her face, radiating confidence with every step she took. 

The other wore a vibrant mismatched outfit, she smiled at everything around her with wide brown eyes as if she was seeing it for the very first time. Robin sent them a smile, she recognized the redhead from when she came in with a bigger group. “Hey, are you looking for Steve?” She asked.

“Nope,” the redhead exclaimed with a grin. “No boys today, just ice cream.” 

After another minute of indecisive sampling, they finally settled on their cones. As Robin handed over their ice creams, they turned towards you, noticing you standing off to the side. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” The redhead pointed out. 

“I’m…” you hesitated. “New.”

“She’s definitely new.” Robin said with a laugh, as they raised their brows. 

“I’m Max.” The redhead introduced herself, then pointed to the short haired girl beside her. “And this is El.”

El smiled warmly, connecting with your gaze. “Hi,” she muttered, somewhat shyly.

“So,” Max got straight to the point. “What’s your story?” She asked patiently. 

Before you could open your mouth, Robin beat you to it. “She’s from the future.” You weren’t sure if Robin should be revealing your secret to the young teens, the more people that knew the more dangerous, but you got this weird feeling that this wasn’t the strangest thing they’ve heard.

“Excuse me?” Max blinked, you nodded awkwardly.

“The future.” El repeated, though instead of laughing, she looked amazed. “What’s it like?” She asked.

Max leaned forward immediately. “Wait, seriously?” She lowered her voice to El. “You actually believe her?”

The other girl simply shrugged, she came from a lab where kids had powers. “Maybe she’s like me.” She responded, you didn’t know what she meant.

“Are people…happier?” She continued. The question caught you off guard, you looked down at your hands. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I think life gets faster. Everyone’s always rushing, sometimes it feels like nobody notices what’s right in front of them anymore.”

The conversation faded into quiet, you realized the people around you didn’t know how much things are going to change. Maybe it’s better they didn’t know, maybe you should keep it all to yourself. 

Max suddenly clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough of the depressing future talk.” Then she pointed at you. “When was the last time you bought new clothes?”

You looked down at the oversized sweatshirt from Steve, grimacing slightly at the fact you still hadn’t found anything that’s fit you. “Technically, this isn’t mine.”

Max looked towards Robin. “Can we borrow her?” She asked.

A smile spread across her face. “Oh, absolutely.” She replied, before turning towards you. “I think…” she nudged your shoulder. “It’s time you looked a little more like you belonged in 1985.”

You hadn’t even had the chance to protest, Max grabbed one wrist, while El gently took the other. “C’mon!” They started dragging you away from the ice cream parlor.

“W-wait—”

“You’ll survive.” Max rolled her eyes, scouting all the stores you could venture into. 

“Have fun!” Robin called after you with a grin. You looked helplessly over your shoulder, but Max and El disappeared with you into a sea of neon lights and music echoing throughout the huge mall.

The second the pair dragged you through the first clothing shop, you knew you were in trouble. “I can already tell,” you sighed. “I’m not getting a say in any of this, am I?”

But deep down, you loved that they were doing this for you. In your time, you’d only dressed for the decade during spirit week in school, but witnessing it all in real life, was a completely surreal feeling. 

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head, browsing between the racks as El wandered after her, fingertips brushing over brightly colored shirts with quiet fascination. 

“So many colors.” You muttered breathlessly. Max had already popped back out with an armful of clothes, dumping everything into your arms.

A denim skirt, a bright pink graphic tee tied at the waist, white high-top sneakers, and a pair of scrunchies. You stared at the various fabrics like they came from a museum, they didn’t belong on your body. 

“Listen,” Max’s blue eyes pierced into yours. “You’re gonna try all this on, and you’ll be transformed into a whole new person.” She giggled.

And fifteen minutes later, the dressing room curtain slowly slid open as you stepped out. The denim skirt sat comfortably above your knees, paired with the pink tee that hugged your waist, socks pulled above your ankles. 

You tugged self-consciously at the hem. “I feel straight out of a movie.”

El’s face instantly lit up, gazing at you with adoration. “You look pretty.” She commented. 

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “I do?” You asked, staring into the mirror.

Max laughed loudly. “You don’t even know.” She stood up again, joining you in the reflection. “We’re not done yet.”

You’d somehow accumulated a whole stack of vintage jewelry, hoop earrings, more bracelets than you could count, and sunglasses that Max had insisted were made for you. 

The final stop was a cosmetics counter, you froze in place. “I’m terrible at makeup,” you shook your head. 

Max relented, pulling you forwards. “So am I, but we'll learn together, right?” She shrugged.

You looked at her skeptically. “I’m scared.” You said as she pushed down to sit in front of a vanity. 

“We never finished talking.” Max pointed out as she picked up a pallet.

“About?” You asked, looking up at her.

“The future.” She said obviously. “Boys,” she sent you a smirk, dabbing a makeup brush onto your face.

You laughed, trying to keep still. “What about them?” You asked.

“You got a boyfriend?” She chirped, pulling back to scan your face.

“No.” You answered truthfully.

“Really?” She paused. “Like you’ve never had one?”

You squirmed in your seat, nodding easily. “Yup, I guess I’ve always just been waiting for the right person.” You explained.

“I had a boyfriend.” El spoke up, you looked at her curiously. “But I dumped him today.” She finished with a mischievous smile, laughing at her own words. “Max said it’s ‘girl power’.”

You laughed, eyes crinkling at her. “It is, that’s why you should be with someone who treats you right.” 

“I told her boys can be idiots sometimes.” Max added. “It’s basically in their DNA.” She laughed.

“Oh trust me, they’re all like that where I’m from.” You said. 

“Well…maybe the 80’s got better options.” Max gave you a sly wink. 

Heat crept up your neck, brows furrowing. “I’ve been here less than a day.” You mentioned.

“Mhm.” Max hummed, uncapping a lipstick to bring to your mouth.

“I’m serious.” You pushed.

“We’ll see.” She smirked. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop smiling.

She finally stepped back after what felt like an eternity later. “There.” She smirked, happy with her work. You took a peak, blinded by your new face. Your makeup was surprisingly soft, a sweep of rosy blush, a hint of lipstick that made your lips look kissable, mascara that lifted your lashes enough without looking overdone. Nothing dramatic, but it made you feel more confident than you ever had in your whole life.

El reached for your hair behind you. “Can I?” She asked softly.

You nodded, watching as she carefully brushed it before gathering the front sections into a high half-up ponytail, secured with one of the scrunchies they had gotten you earlier. A few loose strange framed your face angelically, the girl in the mirror still looked like you, just, more fit for the time. 

“I love it.” You slowly smiled, each of them placing a hand on your shoulders.

“I know.” Max said smugly, tucking a hair behind your hair.

“Well, well, well…” Robin drawled amusingly as she caught you returning to Scoops Ahoy. “Looks like someone got a makeover.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

She raised her voice loud enough to catch Steve’s attention where he was still huddled in the back. “Dingus.”

“What?” Steve sighed.

“Could you bring that whiteboard up front, we should probably show her what we uncovered.” She said. 

Steve stood up, carrying the whiteboard to the counter, but fully froze once he had glanced towards the entrance, the whiteboard dropping from his hands.

You stood awkwardly just a couple feet away. “Too much?” You asked, tugging on the hem of your skirt.

Steve opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again—his brain had completely short-circuited. Robin bit the inside of your cheek to stop herself from laughing. 

Dustin followed after him, looking up from his notebook to watch Steve’s blank expression. “Dude…” no response. “Steve.” Still nothing. “Steve!” 

He flinched, blinking rapidly. “What?” Though his eyes lingered on you for a few more moments.

“You’ve been staring for like,” Dustin checked his watch. “Thirty seconds.”

Steve’s cheeks immediately flushed the same shade as your shirt. “I wasn’t staring.” He scoffed.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You definitely were, Harrington.” 

He looked at you again, sounds faltering out of his mouth. “You…” he started, swallowing thickly. “You look…” they all watched him expectantly. “Really pretty.” He forced the words out.

Your eyes widened, eyes flickering around the parlor. “Thanks.” You exhaled.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Mhm.” For a split second, the rest of the mall vanished, only the two of you remained, until Robin cleared her throat loudly.

“Alright, so while you were getting all dolled up.” She raised the board where they had written the decoded message. “I put my linguistic skills to use and translated the message.”

Your eyes almost popped out of your skull, as you hurried over to get a closer look. “Really, you actually did it?” 

“These idiots would be stuck without me.” She gloated. “It was in Russian, but not nearly as complicated as Dustin thought.” 

The Henderson boy shot her an offended look. “I never said that it was complicated.” He corrected.

“You literally called it an encrypted Soviet communication.” She mentioned.

“Which makes more sense.” He shrugged.

Robin rolled her eyes before tapping the first line with the end of a marker. “The week is long.” She moved to the next. “The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.” Then the final line. “A trip to China sounds nice, if you tread lightly.”

“I’m still not seeing what any of that has to do with well, her showing up here.” Steve gestured.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” Robin admitted. “Maybe they’re connected by luck.”

Dustin shook his head. “I don’t think so, she falls through some weird crack in reality the same day this Russian transmission shows up? We’re missing something.”

Steve sighed, leaning against the counter. “Great, we cracked the code just to end up with even more questions.” 

You stayed silent, your gaze lingering on the words scrawled across the whiteboard. Somewhere in those cryptic messages had to be an explanation, for why you were here, and whether you would ever make it back. 

None of you knew it, but decoding the Russian message was only the first piece of a puzzle far bigger than any of you could’ve imagined.

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[athenas-rose]

Back To ‘85: Wrong Place, Wrong Year

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 2.7k words

warnings: time travel au, head injury, fainting, slow burn, season three adjacent, fluff, strangers to lovers

You wake up in the backrooms of Scoops Ahoy with a pounding headache, no idea how you got there, and a sailor boy insisting you’re not dead. The only problem? It’s 1985 and you’ve time travelled forty years into the past

“Hey…hey, are you okay?” The voice was distant, muffled, like it had to fight through water just to reach you. Your eyelids fluttered open, everything was blurry. A pounding ache bloomed at the back of your head, forcing a pained groan from your lips.

You reached up instinctively, your fingertips brushing against what was already beginning to swell. You must’ve hit it hard—but on what?

The last thing you remembered was hiking through the woods at summer camp. The afternoon had been unbearably warm, you’d wandered off trail after spotting what looked like a strange creek shimmering between the trees.

It was a crack that looked like it shouldn’t have been there. You’d taken one step closer, and suddenly, the ground beneath you disappeared. Your vision slowly sharpened, revealing a pair of worried brown eyes staring back at you.

They belonged to a boy crouched beside you, his thick chestnut hair perfectly styled despite the obvious panic written across his face. He wore a white sailor uniform trimmed with navy blue, a bright red neckerchief tied beneath the collar, and a little sailor hat perched crookedly on his head.

It was, without question, the most ridiculous outfit you’ve ever seen. “…Am I dead?” You mumbled.

The boy blinked bewilderingly. “What?”

Beside him, a girl in the exact same uniform snorted. “I mean,” she shrugged. “If heaven makes people wear these uniforms, I’d rather not find out.”

The boy shot her a heavy glare. “Robin.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “What? You know I’m right.”

He sighed before turning his attention back to you. “I promise you’re not dead.” He reassured.

At least that was good, but then a beat passed. “Where am I?” You asked again, the white walls surrounding you were certainly not helping.

The two exchanged a glance. “Uh,” the girl said slowly. “The storage room.”

“The storage room?” You repeated, how the hell did you get from the middle of the woods into a storage room?

“Behind Scoops ahoy.” She completed, thinking it would clear things up.

You stared at her blankly. “I’m…sorry, behind what?”

Now they looked just as confused as you felt. Before she could answer, the sailor boy carefully offered you his hand. “Can you stand?”

After a second's hesitation, you carefully slipped your hand into his. His grip was warm, strong as he tightened his fingers around yours. He slowly pulled you upright, steadying you when the room tilted beneath your feet. “Easy,” he murmured.

The girl folded her arms, you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated by her stare. “So, wanna explain how you appeared out of literally nowhere?”

“I…” you frowned. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She repeated with a raised brow.

“I was at summer camp, and then I fell.” But as you were repeating your memories, they felt far away, like you had been dreaming.

“Into our storage room?” She asked slowly.

“Apparently.” You sighed, the wound on the back of your head wasn’t getting any better, your limbs feeling sore from the fall.

“What’s your name?” The girl asked, and you answered automatically.

“I’m Robin.” Then she pointed beside her. “And the sailor boy’s Steve.”

Steve looked mildly offended, the costume had already done enough damage to his confidence, the last thing he needed was Robin embarrassing him in front of a girl. “Just Steve, Steve Harrington.”

“I thought sailor boy covered it.” Robin defended herself.

“It doesn’t.” You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, the sound seemed to relax all three of you.

“Do either of you have a phone?” You cut in. “I really need to call camp.”

“A phone?” Steve repeated.

Robin frowned. “There’s a pay phone outside.” She pointed.

You shook your head. “No, I mean your cell phone.” You mimicked holding one.

There were only blank stares around the room, complete silence. “…Portable?”

You laughed nervously. “Seriously?” You looked between them.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I think she hit her head harder than we thought.”

“Who doesn’t have a phone in 2026?” You muttered to yourself.

Robins eyebrows shot up, catching your words. “Twenty-twenty six?”

You frowned, not sure why she sounded so surprised. “Yeah?”

Steve chuckled, cross his arms across his chest. “Okay, yeah, good one.”

You looked between them. “I’m not joking.”

Robin smiled uncertainly. “You do know it’s 1985, right? That’d be like…forty years away.”

You choked out an incoherent sound. “What?” Neither of them laughed, the smile slowly slipped from your face. “Stop messing with me.” You shook your head.

“We’re not—” you pushed past them.

“No.” The bell above the shop door jingled as you stumbled outside. Your feet froze in place, neon signs glowed from every corner, teenagers walked past in brightly colored windbreakers and high-waisted jeans.

The Starcourt mall stretched before you excatly like something ripped from an old movie. Your breathing quickened. “No…”

Steve and Robin hurried out behind you. “Hey!”

You spun in a slow circle. “This isn’t…” your eyes landed on a newspaper someone had dropped near a bench. Hands shaking, you picked it up slowly.

June 28, 1985

The words blurred before your eyes, heartbeat thundering in your ears. You had only fell—there was no way—

“No, no, no,” the world tipped sideways, strong arms caught you before you could hit the ground, then everything went black.

The cool cloth pressed against the back of your head was the first thing you felt, then the dull ache. “…Still think we should’ve called the ambulance.”

“And tell them what? ‘Hey, this girl materialized in our storage room and claims she’s from the future?’”

Steve sighed, but he had no retort. Your eyes flew open, you shot upright so fast the cold compress slid into your lap. “No!”

Steve nearly spilled the glass of water he was holding. “Whoa—”

Your chest rose and fell in frantic breaths as your eyes darted around the ice cream parlor. Taking in the striped walls, pastel booths, the same sailor uniforms. You weren’t back at camp, you weren’t in your room, you were still here.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, no, no.”

Steve cautiously held out the glass. “You passed out—again.”

You stared at it for a second before accepting it with trembling hands. “I was hoping,” your voice cracked. “I was hoping I’d wake up back home.”

Neither Steve nor Robin spoke, and the silence was somehow worse. “So, so this is actually happening?” You laughed weakly.

Robin slowly nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

You buried your face into your hands, Steve leaned against the counter opposite you. “Okay.” His voice was calm. “You really believe you’re from the future?”

You lowered your hands. “I know how insane it sounds.”

“2026?” She repeated your words from earlier, from when she thought you were fooling around with them. “And what exactly is 2026 like?”

You blinked, searching for words. “It’s…different.”

“Different how?” She tilted her head at you.

“Well, we have tiny computers that fit in our pockets.” You answered.

Robin scoffed while Steve frowned. “You mean a calculator?” He cut in.

“No, like, actual computers. You can call people, take pictures, watch movies, listen to music, send text—”

“Hold on.” Robin held up a hand. “All on something that fits in your pocket?”

“Pretty much.” You shrugged.

Before either of them could ask another question, the front doors of Scoops Ahoy flew open. “Steve!” A curly-haired boy wearing a bright Camp Knowhere T-shirt hurried towards the older boy, grinning ear to ear.

“Dustin,” Steve responded with a smile. He would’ve been more enthusiastic if there already wasn’t a problem on their hands.

Just as Dustin looked over towards the bench, he froze, eyes landing on you. “Who’s she?” He suddenly asked.

Steve rubbed his temples. “It’s complicated.”

Robin snorted in response. “She’s from the future.”

Dustin blinked once, then twice, then burst out laughing. “Good one.” He wiped tears from his eyes.

“We’re serious.” Steve said with a straight face, making his smile falter.

Dustin examined you more closely, pointing a finger at you. “You?”

You offered an awkward little wave. “Thats me, hi.” You could physically see the thoughts racing through his head, confusion, comprehension, and finally, curiosity.

“Are there flying cars in the future?” He immediately went into an interrogation.

You stuttered out a sound, before answering. “Nope.”

He looked slightly let down before moving onto the next question. “Did we make contact with extraterrestrial life?”

“Not that I know of.” Your brows pinched together.

“Cure for cancer? Do robots take over? Who’s president? Did we stop climate change?” Questions flew faster than you could answer them, making your head spin all over again.

“Dude.” Steve interrupted. “Quit it, you’ve asked like twenty questions!”

“I have a lot of questions!” Dustin replied, as a science nerd, he needed to know everything.

You couldn’t help letting out a small laugh. “It’s okay.”

Dustin instantly leaned closer. “So,” he started. “How’d you get here?”

You huffed. “I don’t know, I was walking through the woods at summer camp.” He nodded along. “Then I saw—” you hesitated. “A crack.”

“A crack?” Dustin repeated.

“In the ground. It wasn’t supposed to be there.” You shook your head. “I got closer, and then I fell.”

Dustin’s expression suddenly changed, his playful smile disappearing. His eyes slowly widened. “You mean, like, a crack in reality?”

“I guess? It’s a bit fuzzy.” Robin looked between the two of you, but Dustin was thinking, really thinking.

“What if?” He lowered his voice, looking up at Steve. “What if it’s connected to the gate?”

The words hung in the air, Steve’s posture stiffened, but Robin still had no clue what they were talking about. “You really think—”

“I don’t know.” Dustin confessed. “But weird portals showing up out of nowhere isn’t exactly new around here.”

Before Steve could respond, crrrrkkttt. The radio beside Dustin erupted in a burst of harsh static, all four of you jumping.

Then came the sound of distorted voices speaking through the interference. Steve and Robin exchanged a look. “Thats new.”

The radio sat between the four of you, emitting nothing but soft static. Steve sighed for what must’ve been the hundredth time that afternoon. “I’m telling you, Henderson, we’ve listened to this thing for hours.”

Dustin ignored him, scribbling another page of various types of symbols into his notebook. “There has to be a pattern.”

“There is a pattern.” Steve muttered. “It’s called not English.”

Robin smirked. “I didn’t know you were so perceptive, Harrington.” She perked up.

Steve gave her a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, yeah.”

You sat quietly at the end of the end, your melted ice cream had begun dripping down the side of the cup. You hadn’t taken a single bite. The excitement from earlier had faded, reality finally settled in, you weren’t dreaming, you weren’t hallucinating, you were stranded.

“Hey.” Steve’s lowered voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You okay?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah.” He knew you were lying, right as he opened his mouth, the radio crackled and everyone’s attention snapped towards it.

A familiar melody drifted through the static, Robin’s eyes widened. “Wait, play that again.” She instructed, looking around.

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The music—the one in the background!” She stood so suddenly her chair scarped against the floor. “I’ve heard that before, it’s the same music that stupid horse plays outside.”

“C’mon!” She exclaimed, already rushing out of the shop. Minutes later, the four of you stood in front of the small mechanical horse in the center of Starcourt.

Steve reluctantly dropped another coin into the slot. “This is ridiculous.” He sighed.

“Just ride the horse.” Robin urged him.

“I’m not riding the horse!” Steve denied, shaking his head.

“Steven.” With another sigh, Steve climbed ashamingly onto the plastic horse. The cheerful carousel music began to play, and Robin's eyes lit up. “Thats it! It’s the same song.”

Dustin’s face broke out into a grin. “Which means…”

“It’s broadcasting from somewhere inside Hawkins.” She finished.

Dustin looked thoughtful for a moment, before his eyes landed on you. “And it started the same day she showed up.” Everyone turned towards you.

Your stomach tightened. “You think they’re connected?” You asked slowly.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “But I don’t believe in coincidences. If something strange brought you in here, maybe whatever’s behind that signal knows something.” For the first time all day, hope flickered inside you.

The sun had long dipped below the horizon by the time Scoops Ahoy closed. Steve locked the front doors while Robin stretched her arms above her head.

“So,” everyone looked at you once again. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

Your expression fell. “I…” You hadn’t even thought about it, and now the thought felt daunting. “I don’t exactly have anywhere.”

“I can’t bring her home.” Robin said. “My mom would know the second I try to sneak another person in.”

Dustin raised both hands. “Me too, I don’t have any space.”

Silence fell over the group, and slowly, they both turned towards Steve. He stared back, clueless. “What?”

Robin smiled innocently. “You said your parents are gone all the time.” She pointed out.

His brown eyes narrowed. “But—”

“She could stay with you, just until we figure this whole thing out.” She said. You suddenly found the floor incredibly interesting.

After a long pause, “okay.” Your head lifted. “I mean,” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Just for tonight.”

Relief flooded your face. “Thank you.” You sighed gratefully.

His cheeks warmed, eyes flickering everywhere but you. “Yeah—no problem.”

Steve’s house was enormous, and the silence inside somehow made it even bigger. In your time, people barely could afford rent, so him having this all to himself blew you away.

He disappeared upstairs before returning a minute later carrying an armful of clothes. “They’re probably gonna be huge.” He offered them forwards.

You accepted them with a smile. “They’re perfect.”

You left to change in the bathroom, and he was right. The sweatshirt hung halfway down your thighs, the sleeves swallowed your hands completely, it smelled faintly of laundry detergent, and something else—Steve cologne, oddly comforting.

When you stepped back into the bedroom, Steve looked up from where he’d been gathering pillows. He’d changed himself, into more casual wear, grey sweatpants and an old shirt.

He looked more relaxed, more like the boy beneath the costume. “They fit?” He asked when he noticed your return.

You nodded. “You know,” you said, folding your arms. “I think I liked the sailor outfit better.”

Steve let out an incredulous laugh. “Seriously?”

“It’ll always be my first impression of you.” You laughed. He rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I’ll pretend that was a compliment.” He stated. Even if he wasn’t wearing the uniform anymore, he’d always be sailor boy in your eyes.

“You can take the bed.” Steve spoke once he straightened up. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You fiddled with the edge of the fabric of his clothing. “You don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind.” He brushed off, flicking off the bedside lamp as darkness settled over the room.

You slowly settled onto the sheets, but when he reached the doorway, your voice called out softly. “Steve?”

His hand paused on the frame, still keeping his back facing you. “Y-yeah?”

Your fingers tightened around the blanket. “Could you stay?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

He finally turned around, swallowing thickly. The moonlight spilling through the window illuminated your features just enough for him to see your face. At that moment, you sounded terrified. You’d lost your home, your family, you were sent to a time that may as well be a completely different world.

Something inside Steve’s chest clenched, he’d spent the whole day trying to figure out how to send you back, though he hadn’t stopped to think about how frightening this must be for you.

“Yeah, alright.” He agreed softly, giving you a reassuring smile. A few minutes later, he spread a blanket and pillow on the floor beside the bed.

The room fell silent again, looking down you could see him curled up in your direction. “Goodnight,” you murmured.

“‘Night.” Steve whispered. For the first time since waking up in 1985, you didn’t feel quite so alone.

taglist: @unclejeezysblog @selinna29 @hazzaisonfirelol @crackncrinkle @youreasnack @oleander-by-mothermother @electra-hearttt @oliviaharrington @strangegirl26sff @cosmiiwrites @beautifulsoulsaretaken @bamitzzsam @wandadjangomaximov @4v3rybl0zz0m @djodjosiwa @eerilyjaggedconstruct @maemeru @ddjjoo21 @1iliaanxz @iamwarrenspeace @whoxoxovi @finniewolfsoft @dustymerlin @scorpioluvrrr @rruuudii @harbourverse @tokalotashiz @skelkitty @scoopstroop0704 @blurryshycloud @moonlights-muse @insomniacpen @peaxxhyyangell @melonme18 @newtie-mybaby @wandasimp-69 @satoruyazzy @munsonintheupside @folkwhore8 @leaveonthelight29

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[spacejjunk]

like fine wine

pairing: older coworker! eddie munson x reader

w/c: 10.7k+

summary: youve always had this...problem when it comes to sex. youve never made it across the finish line like...ever. you intended on keeping this a secret. especially from your older coworker eddie but your best friend had to just open her stupid mouth and now hes on a personal mission to right the wrongs of the universe.

warnings/tags: 2002 au, age gap (15 years), bartender! eddie and reader, pining, smoking, smut (oral f receiving, squirting, multiple orgasms, breast worship, multiple positions, praise, big dick! eddie, aftercare)

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The bar was a goddamn ghost town at three in the afternoon. Half the stools still had yesterday’s coasters stuck to them. The jukebox was stuck on some early 2000s alternative bullshit that no one had the energy to change. You were wiping down the same stretch of sticky counter for the third time when Jess leaned her elbows on it, chin in her hands, eyes gleaming like she’d just gotten away with murder.

“I’m serious,” she said, voice low and conspiratorial even though the only other person in the place was Eddie, restocking the well bottles with his back to you both. “This guy. Last night. I don’t even remember his name. Doesn’t matter. He went down on me like it was a calling. Like he’d been training for it since puberty. I came so hard I thought I was gonna black out. Twice. In like twelve minutes.”

You snorted into the rag. “That’s disgusting. And also… congratulations?”

“Thank you.” Jess preened. “I’m glowing. Look at me. Post-orgasmic radiance.” She tilted her face toward the neon Bud Light sign like it was a mirror. Then her expression softened into something more pointed. “Speaking of which… you still having your little problem with men?”

You froze mid-wipe. “Jess—”

“What problem?”

Eddie’s voice cut across the bar, casual as anything. He didn’t even turn around at first, just kept lining up the Jack and the Jim like he hadn’t been listening the entire time. When he finally glanced over his shoulder, one dark brow was already arched high under the messy fall of his hair. He always looked unfairly good—black band tee stretched across his shoulders, silver rings flashing every time he moved, that perpetual half-smirk that made it hard to tell if he was about to roast you or flirt with you. Probably both.

Jess didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, you know. Her problem.” She jerked a thumb in your direction. “She’s never came from a dude before.”

The bottle of whiskey in Eddie’s hand paused halfway to the shelf.

You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. “Jesus Christ, Jess—”

“What?” she said, all wide-eyed innocence. “It’s not like it’s a secret. You’ve told me like six times. And he’s right there. He’s basically part of the furniture at this point.”

Eddie set the bottle down with deliberate care and turned fully, resting his forearms on the bar. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Never?” he repeated, voice low and amused and way too interested. “Like… ever? Not even the accidental ones? The ‘oops I moved wrong and something happened’ variety?”

Heat crawled up your neck. “Can we not—”

“Nope,” Jess said cheerfully. “We’re airing it out. Self-awareness is in bitch.”

Eddie tilted his head, studying you like you were a particularly fascinating puzzle. The long hair, the rings, the faint scar through his eyebrow—everything about him was unfairly magnetic, and he knew it. He’d always known it. The way his eyes lingered a half-second too long when you reached for the top-shelf bottles. The way yours did the same when he stretched to change the lights over the pool table.

“Huh,” he said eventually. “That’s… tragic. Actually tragic. Like Greek tragedy levels of tragic.”

You glared at him. “It’s not tragic.”

“It is,” he insisted, deadpan. “You’re twenty-one. Peak prime. And you’re walking around out here unsatisfied like it’s some kind of personality trait. That’s criminal. Someone should fix that.”

Jess grinned. “See? He gets it.”

“I get nothing,” you muttered, scrubbing harder at a non-existent spot on the wood. “And for the record, it’s not like guys haven’t tried. They’re just… bad at it. Or distracted. Or weirdly determined to go for the Olympic gold in thrusting while forgetting the rest of the body exists.”

Eddie made a soft, wounded sound. “Ouch. Collectively roasting half the male population. Bold.”

“Deserved,” you shot back.

He leaned in a little, elbows sliding closer across the bar. The metal of his rings clicked against the wood. “So what you’re saying is… every single guy who’s ever had the privilege has been mid at best.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“And none of them managed to, y’know—” he made a vague, elegant gesture with one hand, rings flashing, “—get the job done.”

Jess was delighted. “God, this is better than daytime TV.”

You pointed the rag at her. “You started this.”

“And I’m thriving.”

Eddie ignored her completely, eyes still locked on yours. There was something sharp and curious under the teasing now. Something that made your stomach pull tight.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “Very interesting.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t look at me like that. Like you’re taking notes for later.”

His grin spread slow and wicked. “Baby, I’ve been taking notes for months. This is just the first time the subject’s come up in conversation.”

Jess actually clapped. “Oh my god.”

You felt your face go hot. “Eddie—”

He straightened up, palms raised in mock surrender, but the smirk never left. “Hey. Just saying. If the bar’s this dead every afternoon, maybe we should start a support group. I can lead the hands on portion of the presentation.”

You threw the wet rag at his chest. He caught it one-handed without even flinching, laughing under his breath as the damp fabric slapped against his shirt.

“You’re the worst,” you told him.

“And yet,” he said, tossing the rag back onto the bar between you, “you keep looking.”

Jess made a delighted little noise and stage-whispered, “I live for this shift.”

Eddie just winked at you—slow, deliberate—and turned back to the bottles like he hadn’t just set the entire afternoon on fire.

The next two hours crawled by in that special brand of dead-bar purgatory where every glass you washed felt like a personal insult. A couple of regulars drifted in, ordered cheap beer, and left again. Jess kept shooting you meaningful looks every time Eddie got within ten feet, which was constantly, because the universe had decided you two were stuck on the same side of the bar for the rest of the shift.

He waited until Jess disappeared into the back to change a keg before he started.

“Alright,” he said, voice low and conversational as he dried a pint glass with unnecessary care. “Pop quiz time. You ever come from oral? Like, someone actually knowing what they’re doing down there.”

You nearly dropped the bottle of vodka you were restocking. “Eddie.”

“What? Scientific inquiry. I like to learn.” He tapped his temple with one ringed finger. “Answer the question.”

You glanced toward the empty booths, then back at him. “No. Not really. It’s usually… fine. Then they get bored or their jaw starts hurting and they switch to something else.”

He made a soft, wounded sound like you’d just insulted his entire bloodline. “Christ. The bar is in hell. Next question—missionary. Ever gotten there that way?”

“No.”

“Doggy?”

“Eddie—”

“Answer.”

You exhaled through your nose. “Once I thought I was close. Then he asked if I was okay because I went quiet and the whole thing died.”

Eddie actually stopped drying the glass. He stared at you for a second, then set it down very carefully. “I’m going to need a list of names. Ban them from the bar. They're never allowed in your presence again.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m invested,” he corrected, leaning a hip against the counter. The afternoon light caught on the silver at his knuckles. “Okay, reverse cowgirl. Ever tried that one?”

You gave him a flat look. “You’re just listing positions now.”

“It’s a thorough survey. I’m a thorough guy.” His mouth curved. “What about when you’re on top and you actually get to control the angle?”

Heat crawled up the back of your neck. “Still no.”

“Against a wall?”

“No.”

“Bent over something?”

“Eddie, oh my god.”

He held up both hands, rings flashing, but he was grinning like a man who’d just found a new favorite hobby. “Okay, okay. Solo work. You can get yourself there, right?”

You hesitated, then nodded once. “Yeah. That’s… the only reliable method, honestly.”

Something shifted in his expression—still playful, still teasing, but there was a new sharpness underneath it. Like he’d just filed that particular answer into a mental drawer labeled Important.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “So the equipment works. The operators just suck.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

He reached past you for a clean stack of coasters, close enough that you caught the faint scent of leather and stale tobacco. His voice dropped even lower. “How do you do it, then? Fingers? Toys? Pillow humping like a teenager?”

You shoved a coaster into his chest. “I’m not answering that.”

“Coward.”

“Voyeur.”

“Guilty.” He caught the coaster before it fell and spun it between his fingers. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’ll just have to hypothesize.” He tilted his head, studying you with that same intense focus he’d given the whiskey bottles earlier. “I’m guessing fingers. Two, maybe three. Slow at first, then faster when you get close. You go quiet. Bite your lip. That soft little sound you make when you’re frustrated with the register? Probably the same one.”

Your face went hot enough to fry an egg. “You are unbelievable.”

“I’m observant.” He flicked the coaster onto the bar with a soft clack. “And currently constructing a very detailed theory about what it would take to fix this tragic situation.”

You turned away to grab a new bottle of well tequila, mostly so he wouldn’t see the way your mouth wanted to smile. “You’re plotting.”

“Obviously.”

“You’re thirty-six. Shouldn’t you be plotting, I don’t know, retirement or something?”

Eddie barked a laugh. “Baby, I’m in my prime. And right now my prime is extremely focused on the fact that you’ve never been properly ruined by another person and that is a personal offense to me as a man who takes pride in his work.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Your work.”

“I’m a multi-talented individual.” He winked, slow and filthy. “Bartending is just the day job.”

Jess chose that exact moment to reappear from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She took one look at the two of you—Eddie’s smug expression, your flushed face—and grinned like Christmas had come early.

“Oh, this is gonna be a great closing shift,” she announced.

Eddie just hummed, turning back to the glasses with the air of a man who had all the time in the world and a very specific plan forming behind those dark eyes.

The night stretched on like it had a personal grudge.

By eight the place finally woke up—college kids with fake IDs, regulars who lived three stools down from alcoholism, a table of guys who kept trying to get Jess’s number and failing spectacularly. You and Eddie moved around each other like you’d been doing it for years, hips brushing when the space got tight, fingers grazing when you both reached for the same bottle. Every time it happened he shot you a look that said noted, and every time you pretended not to notice.

He waited until you were both stuck behind the bar during a rush to lean in close, voice low under the music.

“So when you’re alone,” he said, pouring three shots of Jameson without looking, “how long does it usually take?”

You nearly over-poured the vodka in your hand. “I’m not answering that while I’m making someone a vodka soda.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Eddie.”

He slid the shots down the bar with a practiced flick of his wrist and turned just enough that his mouth was near your ear. “I’m building a timeline. Important data. Is it a ten-minute situation or a ‘I’ve got the apartment to myself for an hour’ situation?”

You shouldered him back an inch. “You’re exhausting.”

“And yet you’re still answering.”

“I’m not.”

“You will.”

By eleven the crowd thinned enough that Jess could handle the floor alone. That left the two of you restocking the back bar, bodies close in the narrow space between the ice well and the speed rack. Eddie handed you bottles one by one, rings clicking against glass, and every time your fingers touched he held on a second longer than necessary.

“Okay, new category,” he said, passing you the triple sec. “Toys. Yes or no.”

You set the bottle down harder than you meant to. “I’m going to kill you.”

“That’s not a no.”

“It’s a none of your business.”

He grinned, slow and sharp. “So yes. What kind? The little bullet ones that die after six months or the fancy ones with remote controls that costs like two weeks pay?”

You stared at him. “How do you even know about those?”

“I have lived a full and varied life, sweetheart.” He leaned past you to grab a fresh stack of napkins, chest brushing your shoulder. “Also I have internet access. Shocking, I know.”

“You’re still this much of a menace. That’s actually impressive.”

“Thank you. I try.” He paused, then added, quieter, “You go quiet when you’re close, don’t you? Even by yourself. I’ve seen the way you bite the inside of your cheek when you’re concentrating on the register. Same energy.”

Your face went hot again. “Stop studying me like I’m a lab rat.”

“Can’t. You’re the most interesting thing in this entire shitty bar.”

Midnight came and went. The last wave of drunks stumbled out around one-thirty. Jess clocked out early with a pointed “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and a look that promised interrogation tomorrow. That left just the two of you closing—chairs up, floors mopped, registers counted in the weirdly intimate quiet of a bar after hours.

Eddie wiped down the last section of the counter while you counted the till. He waited until you were halfway through the twenties before he spoke again.

“Last question of the night. Promise.”

You didn’t look up. “You’re a liar.”

“Probably. But still.” He tossed the rag into the bin and came to lean against the register, arms crossed, watching you. “If someone actually knew what they were doing—knew exactly how to get you there and refused to stop until it happened—do you think you could?”

You paused with a stack of bills in your hand. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Somewhere in the back the ice machine kicked on with a loud clatter.

“I don’t know,” you said finally. “Maybe.”

Eddie’s mouth curved, soft and dangerous all at once. “Good answer.”

You finished the count in silence after that, the weight of his attention sitting warm against the side of your face. When the drawer finally balanced you locked it and straightened, rolling your shoulders. Your feet ached. Your lower back ached. It had been a long-ass day in every possible way.

Eddie was already shrugging into his leather jacket, hair a mess from running his hands through it all night. He held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the cool 2 a.m. air.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, like he hadn’t spent the last nine hours conducting a very public interrogation about your sex life.

You locked the door behind you and turned to face him under the streetlight. “You’re not done with the questions, are you?”

He smiled—slow, crooked, full of intent. “Not even close.”

The next day Eddie walked in looking like he’d made an actual effort, and it threw you off so hard you nearly dropped the stack of clean glasses you were carrying.

He’d clearly showered. The usual faint haze of cigarette smoke and bar soap that clung to him was gone, replaced by something warmer, cleaner—like cedar and maybe sage? underneath. His hair was still long and messy, but it looked deliberate this time, pushed back from his face like he’d actually run a comb through it. Black jeans, a soft worn black shirt that fit a little too well across the shoulders, and those same silver rings. He looked… intentional.

Jess noticed first. She mouthed what the fuck at you from across the bar the second his back was turned.

You just shook your head and tried not to stare.

He didn’t launch into the interrogation the second the shift started. That was the weirdest part. No pop quiz. No filthy little comments under his breath every time you bent down for a bottle. He just… worked. Smooth, quiet, efficient. When the bar got busy he moved around you like he’d memorized the shape of your body in the space, hand settling briefly at the small of your back when he needed to slip past, voice low and easy when he called out drink orders.

It should have been a relief.

It felt like standing too close to an open flame.

You floated through the night in a strange, charged quiet. Every time your eyes met across the bar something tight pulled low in your stomach. He caught you looking more than once and just smiled—small, private, like the two of you were sharing a secret no one else was in on.

Closing came faster than it should have.

Jess clocked out with a pointed look and a whispered “text me if you die” that made you want to throw a lime at her head. Then it was just the two of you again, stacking chairs in the low light, the jukebox finally silent.

Eddie wiped his hands on a towel and glanced over.

“You wanna come smoke?”

The question was casual. The way he said it wasn’t.

You usually said yes. Half the time after closing the two of you ended up on the back steps sharing a joint and talking shit about customers until the sky started getting light. Tonight the air between you felt thicker. Like the question meant something else entirely.

You still said, “Yeah. Okay.”

He nodded once, like he’d expected that answer, and grabbed his jacket.

You followed him out to the employee lot after locking up. His van was the same beat-up black thing it had always been, but even that felt different under the streetlights. He unlocked the passenger side for you without a word, then climbed in himself. The engine rumbled to life. Neither of you spoke for the first few minutes of the drive.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was loaded.

Eddie’s place was a small rented home ten minutes from the bar, the kind of place that looked like it had seen better decades. He parked in the cracked driveway and killed the engine. For a second he just sat there, hands on the wheel, staring at the dark porch like he was deciding something.

Then he looked over at you.

“You good?”

You nodded. Your pulse was doing something stupid in your throat. “Yeah.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, almost to himself. “Cool. C’mon.”

You followed him up the steps. The porch light was out. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside so you could walk in first. The living room smelled like him—leather, weed, stale cigarettes. A couple of amps in the corner. Records stacked in uneven piles. A couch that had definitely seen better days.

Eddie tossed his keys on the side table and shrugged out of his jacket. The clean scent of whatever he’d put on earlier drifted toward you again.

He glanced over his shoulder, that same small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You wanna sit outside or in here?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavier than it should have been.

You met his eyes.

You nodded toward the dark backyard. “Outside.”

Eddie grinned like you’d given him the exact answer he wanted and jerked his head for you to follow. The backyard was small and overgrown, a couple of mismatched plastic chairs near the fence and a milk crate that clearly doubled as a table. He dropped into one of the chairs with a satisfied groan and pulled a little tin from his pocket.

“Got some really good shit tonight,” he said, already breaking up a dense little nug between his fingers. “Friend of a friend. Sticky. Smells like a forest fucked a skunk and they both loved it.”

You snorted and took the other chair. “Poetic.”

“I try.” He packed the bowl with practiced ease, silver rings flashing under the porch light that barely reached this far. When he lit it the first hit made him cough once, sharp, then he laughed and held it out to you. “Careful. This one sneaks up.”

You took it. The smoke was thick and sweet and immediately made your head feel softer around the edges. You passed it back and watched him take another hit, the way his throat moved when he held it in.

A few quiet exhales later you tipped your head, studying him.

“What’s up with the get-up today, by the way?”

Eddie blinked, all faux innocence. “What get-up?”

“Don’t play dumb. You smelled different. Looked different. Like you actually owned a bottle of real cologne instead of just rolling in whatever was on the floor of the van.”

He waved a hand, smoke curling around his fingers. “I showered. Revolutionary concept, I know. Sometimes the hair gets washed. Sometimes the shirt isn’t the same one I wore three days in a row. It’s called being a functional adult.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m serious. Zero effort. Pure coincidence.”

You took another hit and exhaled slowly, watching him over the rim of the bowl. “Well… I liked it.”

The change was instant. His whole posture shifted—shoulders loosening, that slow, pleased grin spreading across his face like you’d just handed him a trophy. He sat up a little straighter, eyes bright even in the dark.

“Yeah?” he said, voice warmer. “You noticed.”

“Hard not to. You walked in smelling like you had somewhere better to be.”

Eddie laughed under his breath, low and a little giddy, and ran a hand through his hair like he couldn’t help himself. “Shit. Okay. Noted. I’ll keep that in the rotation then.”

You passed the bowl back, lips curving. “I like normal you too, though. The regular version. The one who smells like your van and talks too much and leaves guitar picks in the tip jar.”

He went quiet for a second, turning the bowl between his fingers. When he looked at you again the playfulness was still there, but something heavier sat underneath it.

“Yeah, well,” he said, voice rougher now. “I just wanted you to notice the effort. Because if I ever get my hands on you…” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on yours. “I want you to know there’s gonna be full effort there too. No half-assing it. No getting bored halfway through. I’m talking dedicated. Thorough. The kind of focus that makes you forget your own name for a little while.”

The air between you went tight.

You raised an eyebrow, slow and deliberate, and let a small, challenging smile pull at your mouth.

“That a promise or just talk?”

Eddie stared at you for a long second. Then he laughed—quiet, almost disbelieving—and shook his head like you’d just dared him to jump off a roof.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice full of dark delight. “You’re gonna regret asking me that.”

Eddie set the bowl down on the milk crate with a soft clink, still grinning like you’d just handed him the best idea he’d ever heard. Before you could even process the shift in his expression he was out of the chair and in front of you, hands already sliding under your thighs.

“Wait—Eddie—”

Too late. He hauled you up in one smooth, practiced motion and tossed you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. The world tilted. Your hands flew to his back for balance as he started walking toward the house, one arm locked firm around the backs of your legs.

“Eddie, put me down—” you laughed, smacking the solid muscle of his shoulder. “You’re such an asshole, oh my god—”

“Mm. Keep talking. It’s cute.” His free hand settled on the back of your thigh, fingers spreading possessively as he carried you up the porch steps and through the open door. “Been thinking about doing this since you told me no one’s ever gotten you there properly. Figured I’d start with the logistics.”

You twisted, trying to push yourself up enough to see where you were going, still laughing. “Logistics? You’re manhandling me—”

The sharp, open-handed smack landed right across your ass.

The sound cracked through the quiet house.

You went completely still.

The laughter died in your throat. Heat flooded low and fast, a sudden, traitorous pulse between your legs that made your breath catch. Your fingers curled into the soft fabric of his shirt. You didn’t make a sound.

Eddie stopped walking.

You felt the way his whole body went alert underneath you—the slight pause, the way his hand stayed right where it had landed, palm warm against the sting he’d just left.

“…Oh,” he said, voice dropping into something darker and deeply pleased. “There it is.”

He adjusted his grip and kept walking, slower now, like he was savoring every step. You could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again.

“You went quiet real fast, sweetheart. That little problem of yours just get a whole lot more interesting?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your face was burning and the ache between your legs had gone from nothing to urgent in the span of one single slap.

Eddie carried you down the short hallway and into a bedroom that smelled like the real him. He bent and deposited you onto the mattress with surprising care, letting you slide down his body until you were sitting on the edge of the bed looking up at him.

He stayed close. Close enough that you had to tip your head back. One of his hands was still resting on your waist like he hadn’t fully decided to let go yet.

His eyes were darker than they’d been outside. The playful edge was still there, but it was sharper now. Focused.

“Yeah,” he murmured, thumb stroking once over your hip. “I saw that. Felt it too. You clenched up the second my hand landed.” He tilted his head, studying your face with open, hungry curiosity. “Interesting reaction for someone who’s never come with another person. Almost like your body already knows something your brain hasn’t caught up to yet.”

He leaned in just enough that his next words brushed warm against your mouth.

“We’re gonna fix that.”

Eddie stayed right there between your knees, looking down at you like he’d already decided how the rest of the night was going to go. His hand was still warm on your waist, thumb tracing idle little arcs against the fabric of your shirt.

“Alright,” he said, voice light but serious underneath. “Before I do anything irreversible—you got a safeword?”

You blinked up at him, then huffed a soft laugh. “Jesus. You’re old. I’ve never needed one.”

His mouth twitched. “Charming. Really making me feel great about the age gap right now.”

“I’m just saying. Never came up.”

“Well it’s coming up now.” He reached past you, grabbed a pillow, and tossed it further up the bed like he was already planning ahead. “Pineapple. That’s the word. You say pineapple, everything stops. No questions, no attitude, I back off immediately. Clear?”

You stared at him for a second, then broke into a genuine laugh. “Pineapple? That’s the best you could do?”

“It’s memorable. And you’re not gonna forget it when you’re—”

You didn’t get to hear the rest of the sentence.

His hand slid up the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he closed them in a firm, controlled fist. The pull wasn’t rough—just deliberate enough to tip your head back so you had no choice but to look straight at him. The sudden shift in control sent another low pulse of heat straight between your legs.

Eddie’s eyes dropped to your mouth, then back up. His voice came out quieter. Rougher.

“How do you like it?”

The question sat heavy between you. You swallowed. Your scalp tingled where he held you.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. Honest. A little breathless. “No one’s ever… asked. Or stuck around long enough to figure it out.”

Something dark and satisfied moved through his expression. He leaned in closer, the grip in your hair keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“Then you’re getting the whole experience,” he murmured. “Every version. Hard. Slow. Filthy. Whatever makes that pretty little problem of yours finally give up.”

He closed the last inch and kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It was deep and immediate, mouth open, the kind of kiss that felt like a claim. His free hand came up to cup your jaw, tilting you further into it while the one in your hair stayed locked, holding you in place as he licked into your mouth like he’d been thinking about it for weeks. You made a small sound against his lips and he answered it with a low hum, pressing closer until your knees had to part wider around his hips.

When he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his voice was wrecked already.

“Yeah,” he said against your mouth. “We’re gonna take our time with this.”

Eddie kissed you down into the mattress like he’d been holding himself back and finally ran out of reasons to. The weight of him settled over you. His mouth never left yours for long, only breaking long enough for both of you to drag in air before he was back, deeper, hungrier.

Your hands found the hem of his shirt at the same time his found yours.

Fabric got shoved up between frantic kisses. You both laughed once against each other’s mouths when your arms got tangled, then the shirts were gone—his tossed somewhere toward the floor, yours pulled carefully over your head so he didn’t catch it on your hair. The second your bare skin met the cooler air of the room, Eddie went still.

His eyes dropped.

The tattoos you’d kept hidden under work shirts and bar aprons sat dark against your skin—delicate lines and soft shading that only showed when the fabric came off. He stared like he’d just been handed something private and important.

“Fuck,” he breathed. One hand hovered, then settled lightly over the ink on your ribs, thumb tracing the edge of a design. “You’ve been walking around with these under those little black tanks this whole time and never said a word?”

You felt heat climb your throat. “Didn’t come up.”

“It’s coming up now.” His voice had gone lower, almost reverent. He leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the center of your chest, right between your breasts, then another a little higher. The metal of his rings was cool against your side as his hand slid up.

He paused there, mouth still brushing your skin, and looked up at you through his lashes.

“Can I take this off?” His fingers rested at the back clasp of your bra, waiting. Not moving until you answered.

You nodded.

Eddie kissed the same spot on your chest once more—soft, almost grateful—before he reached behind you. The clasp gave easily under his fingers, like he’d done it a hundred times and still treated it like it mattered. He drew the straps down your arms slowly, letting the fabric fall away, and sat back just enough to look.

The way his expression changed was quiet and thorough. No teasing. No smirk. Just open, focused appreciation as his gaze moved over you.

“Look at you,” he murmured. One hand came up to cup the side of your breast, thumb stroking once beneath it like he was learning the shape. “Hiding all this under work clothes every night. Perfect fucking girl. Trying so hard not to let anyone see.”

He leaned back down and pressed a slower kiss to the soft curve of one breast, then the other, voice still gentle against your skin.

“Gonna take my time looking at every single thing you’ve been keeping to yourself.”

He stayed right there, mouth and hands devoted to your breasts like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Soft, open kisses trailed across the full curves, lingering under the weight of them where the skin was most sensitive. His tongue flicked once over a nipple before he closed his lips around it and sucked—gentle at first, then deeper when your back arched. The whole time he talked, voice low and warm against your skin.

“So responsive,” he murmured, switching to the other side. “Look at the way you push up into my mouth. You’ve been starving for someone to just… stay here and worship these for a while.” Another slow suck, a quiet hum of approval when you made a soft sound. “Perfect tits. So fucking perfect.”

You were soaked.

You could feel it—heat and slickness gathering between your legs until your underwear clung uncomfortably. You didn’t think you’d ever gotten this wet before. Not from kissing. Not from anything. Every drag of his tongue, every quiet, filthy-sweet word made the ache worse.

Eddie kissed lower, across the soft skin just beneath your breasts, then lifted his head. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, but his voice stayed careful.

“Can I take these off?” His fingers rested at the button of your jeans, waiting.

You nodded.

He popped the button and drew the zipper down slowly. You lifted your hips so he could work the denim down your legs and toss it aside. The second the cool air hit you, his gaze dropped—and locked onto the dark, obvious wet patch soaking through the center of your underwear.

His whole body went still.

You watched the thick outline of his cock twitch hard against the front of his jeans, straining against the fabric like it was trying to get to you on its own.

Eddie exhaled a rough, almost pained sound. “Jesus Christ.”

You swallowed, voice quieter than you meant it to be. “Fair is fair. Take yours off too.”

He didn’t argue. He stood just long enough to shove his jeans down and kick them away, leaving him in dark boxer briefs that did almost nothing to hide him. The outline was obscene—long, thick, heavy against his thigh, the head clearly defined where it pressed against the cotton. Even confined like that he looked massive.

Your mouth went a little dry.

“Holy shit,” you breathed before you could stop yourself.

Eddie glanced down at himself, then back at you, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his mouth even as his voice stayed soft.

“Yeah,” he said, climbing back over you. “We’re gonna take this real slow, sweetheart. I’m gonna need you nice and open for me.” His hand settled on your hip, thumb stroking the edge of your soaked underwear. “But first I’m gonna make sure this pretty little problem of yours never stands a chance.”

Eddie kissed you again—deeper this time, slower, like he was trying to pour every filthy intention he had into your mouth. You couldn’t help the way your hips rolled up against him, seeking friction, grinding the soaked center of your underwear against the hard line of his cock. The second you did it he groaned into the kiss, one hand sliding down to grip your thigh and hold you there for a second longer.

Then he pulled back.

“Greedy,” he murmured against your lips, almost fond. “Alright. I hear you.”

He started kissing down.

Your chest first—lingering again on the soft undersides of your breasts, tongue tracing the curves he’d already learned—then lower, across the plane of your stomach. Every open-mouthed press of his lips made your muscles jump. He nuzzled the soft skin just above the waistband of your underwear and exhaled like the scent of how wet you were was doing something to him.

You lifted your hips without being asked. Together you worked the soaked fabric down your legs until it was gone. The second you were bare, Eddie went quiet.

He sat back on his heels between your thighs and just looked.

His hands settled on the insides of your knees and slowly pushed them wider, eyes locked on the slick, flushed mess of your cunt. You were so wet it was almost embarrassing—glistening along your folds, dripping down toward the sheets. He stared like he was trying to memorize every detail.

“Fucking perfect,” he said, voice low and rough with sincerity. “Look at you. All pretty and shiny and soaked just from me playing with your tits. You’re beautiful like this.” His thumbs stroked higher along your inner thighs. “I’m gonna take such good care of you. Promise.”

Then he dove in.

No teasing. He flattened his tongue and dragged it through your center in one long, filthy stripe, collecting everything you’d made for him. The sound he made was almost pained—hungry and relieved all at once—before he sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked.

Your whole body arched.

Eddie hummed against you like the taste of you was exactly what he’d been after all night, and settled in like he planned to stay there for a very long time.

He started slow—long, flat strokes of his tongue from the bottom of your cunt all the way up to your clit, gathering every bit of slick that had already collected there. The sound was wet and filthy every time he dragged through you. He hummed low in his chest like the taste of you was something he wanted to memorize.

“Fuck, you taste sweet,” he murmured against your folds, voice already rough. “So wet for me already. Been dripping since I smacked that pretty ass, haven’t you?”

His hands stayed firm on your inner thighs, holding you open exactly how he wanted. When he focused on your clit he did it with devastating patience—soft, circling licks that barely gave you pressure, then firmer ones that made your hips twitch. Every time your thighs tried to close he just pressed them wider and kept going.

You were already shaking.

Eddie noticed. Of course he did. He lifted his mouth just enough to speak, lips shiny, eyes dark and focused.

“That’s it. Let me feel it. You’re allowed to get loud, sweetheart. Nobody’s here but me.” He dipped back down and sucked your clit between his lips, gentle at first, then harder when your back arched. “Good girl. So sensitive. I can feel you throbbing on my tongue.”

He worked you in waves. Soft and teasing until you were rolling your hips up against his mouth, then deeper—tongue pushing inside you in slow, filthy thrusts while his nose pressed against your clit. The wet sounds filled the room. Your hands found his hair and twisted, not sure if you were trying to pull him closer or survive it.

Eddie groaned like he loved the sting.

“There you go,” he praised, voice muffled against you. “Use me. Grind on my face if you need to. I’ve got you.” He sealed his mouth back over your clit and sucked in a steady, relentless rhythm while two fingers finally slid inside you—curving, searching, pressing up into that spot that made your vision blur. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me already. So tight. So needy. Gonna make this little cunt come so hard for me.”

He didn’t rush the build.

Every time you got close he eased off just enough to keep you hovering—switching to broad, messy licks, kissing the insides of your thighs, murmuring soft filthy things against your skin about how pretty you looked spread open and dripping for him. Then he’d return to your clit with single-minded focus, fingers working you open, tongue relentless.

Your stomach started tightening. The pleasure turned sharp and overwhelming. You could hear how wet you were—slick sounds every time his fingers moved, every time his mouth sealed over you again.

“Eddie—I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he said immediately, voice low and certain. He doubled down, sucking harder, fingers curling in steady, perfect strokes. “You’re right there. I can feel it. Let it happen. Give it to me.”

The orgasm hit like a wave you couldn’t stop.

Your whole body locked. A broken, high sound tore out of you as the pleasure crashed through—your cunt pulsing hard around his fingers, slick gushing out of you in warm, uncontrollable pulses that coated his mouth and chin and dripped down onto the sheets. Eddie moaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted and kept going through it, licking you through every spurt, every tremor, drinking you down like he was starving for it.

He only slowed when your thighs started shaking too hard to stay open.

Even then he didn’t pull away completely. He pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to your oversensitive clit, your folds, the dripping mess he’d made of you, voice wrecked and reverent.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against your cunt. “Look at that. Fucking beautiful. You came so hard you made a mess of me.” He licked a slow stripe through the wetness still dripping from you and groaned.

Eddie sat up just long enough to shove his boxer briefs down and kick them off the bed. His cock sprang free—a heavy thump against his stomach. After everything he’d just done to you, he looked almost painfully hard.

He crawled back over you and kissed you deep.

You tasted yourself on his mouth immediately—sharp and sweet and filthy. The knowledge that he’d just had his face buried between your legs made your stomach flip all over again. He licked into your mouth like he wanted you to taste how hard you’d come for him, one hand braced beside your head, the other stroking slowly along your side.

When he pulled back, his voice was quieter. Careful.

“Still sure you want this?” His eyes searched yours. “I already made you come. We can stop here if you need to. No pressure.”

You didn’t answer with words.

You reached up, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him down into another kiss—harder this time, open-mouthed and certain. Your other hand slid down between your bodies and wrapped around the thick length of him. He was so hot against your palm, so heavy, the skin soft over the rigid hardness underneath. Eddie groaned into your mouth like the simple touch of your hand almost undid him.

“Okay,” he rasped against your lips. “Okay. I’ve got you.”

He reached down and wrapped his own hand around his cock, guiding the broad head through the soaked mess of your cunt. The first drag of him against your oversensitive clit made your hips jerk. He did it again—slower—slicking himself up with everything you’d already given him, the fat head catching against your entrance every time he passed over it.

You were so wet the sound was obscene.

Eddie braced himself on one forearm and looked down between your bodies, watching the way the blunt head of his cock pressed against you. His breathing had gone uneven.

“Gonna go slow,” he promised, voice strained. “You’re tight as hell and I’m not exactly small. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He pushed.

The stretch was immediate and intense—thick pressure that forced you open around him inch by careful inch. You could feel every ridge, every vein, the way your body had to give to take him. Your mouth fell open on a broken sound. Eddie’s forehead dropped against yours, a low, punched-out groan spilling out of him as the head finally slipped inside.

“Fuck—look at that,” he breathed, hips trembling with the effort of holding still. “Taking me so well already. You’re soaking my cock baby girl.”

He gave you another inch. Then another. The burn of the stretch mixed with the leftover sensitivity from your orgasm until your thighs were shaking around his hips. You could feel how deep he was already getting, the heavy weight of him filling you in a way nothing else ever had.

Eddie kissed the corner of your mouth, sweet even as his voice went filthy.

“That’s it. Just like that. Let me in, sweetheart. Gonna fill this pretty cunt up until you forget anyone else ever tried.”

“Move,” you whispered.

Eddie exhaled like he’d been waiting for permission. He drew his hips back slowly—just an inch or two—then pushed back in just as carefully. The thick slide of him forced another soft sound out of your throat. You felt everything. Every ridge. Every subtle pulse of his cock as he sank deeper. The way your walls had to stretch and flutter around the heavy girth of him just to take it.

He kept the pace almost gentle.

Long, controlled strokes that let you feel the full drag of him pulling out and the slow, relentless push back in until he bottomed out against you. His forehead stayed pressed to yours. His voice never stopped.

“That’s it,” he murmured, breath warm against your mouth. “Feel how full you are. Taking all of me like you were made for it. S' tight. S' perfect around my cock.” Another slow thrust. Your fingers dug into his shoulders. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Letting me open you up.”

The sweetness of it almost undid you more than the stretch.

Every praise landed low in your stomach. Every careful roll of his hips sent sparks up your spine. You could feel how wet you still were—slick sounds filling the quiet room every time he sank back in. But the longer he stayed that measured and deep, the more something restless started building under your skin.

You needed more.

Deeper. Harder. Something that matched the ache he’d already put in you.

Eddie must have felt the way your hips started chasing him, because he pulled back just enough to look at your face. His eyes were dark, pupils blown, but his voice stayed soft.

“I know,” he said. “I can feel you getting greedy again sweetheart.”

He sat back on his knees, still buried inside you, and hooked his hands behind your knees. In one smooth motion he pushed your legs up and open, folding you nearly in half until your thighs pressed against your own chest. The new angle made him sink impossibly deeper on the next slow thrust. You gasped—sharp and high—as the thick head of him pressed against something that made your vision spark.

Eddie groaned low in his throat and held the position, hips rolling in the same unhurried rhythm, only now every stroke dragged against that deeper, more intense place inside you.

“There we go,” he praised, voice rough with restraint. “That’s what you needed, huh? Deeper?” He thrust in again—slow, deliberate, grinding against the end of you. “All folded up and still sucking me in. Perfect girl. Just keep breathing for me. I’ve got you.”

He never sped up.

He just kept fucking you deep and steady, sweet words spilling out of him the entire time, like he had no intention of stopping until he’d ruined you completely.

Your voice broke on a high, frustrated sound.

“Eddie—please—harder. I need it harder, I can’t—”

He didn’t make you beg twice.

The second the plea left your mouth his whole demeanor shifted. The careful restraint he’d been holding onto snapped. His grip on the backs of your thighs tightened and he started fucking you properly—long, powerful strokes that drove him deep enough to punch the air out of your lungs every time his hips met yours. The wet, filthy sound of it filled the room. Your body jolted up the mattress with every thrust until he dragged you back down by the hips and kept going.

“Anything,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Anything you want. You need it harder? It’s yours. Need me deeper? Take it.” He snapped his hips in harder, the thick length of him dragging against that spot inside you on every stroke until your eyes rolled. “Fuck—listen to you. Whining for my cock like you were made for it. I’ve got you. Gonna give you everything.”

The intensity crashed over you too fast to stop.

Your second orgasm hit with almost no warning—sharp and overwhelming, your cunt clamping down around him in hard, rhythmic pulses as pleasure ripped through you. You cried out, nails digging into his arms, thighs shaking violently in his grip while you came on his cock alone. The wet rush of it made every thrust louder, messier. Eddie groaned like he could feel every flutter and kept fucking you through it, never slowing, praising you the whole time in a broken stream of words.

“That’s it—come on my cock, just like that. Fucking beautiful. You’re soaking me. Squeezing me so tight I can barely move. Good girl. Perfect fucking girl.”

He only eased up when the aftershocks left you trembling and oversensitive.

You could still feel how hard he was inside you—thick and throbbing, nowhere near finished. The realization made something determined spark low in your stomach. You reached up and pushed weakly at his chest.

“Want to ride you,” you managed, voice hoarse. “Please. Let me.”

Eddie went still. His eyes searched your face, dark and concerned even as his cock twitched deep inside you.

“You sure?” he asked, already breathing hard. “You just came twice. You’re shaking. We can slow down—”

“I’m sure.” You held his gaze, stubborn and flushed and still pulsing around him. “I want to. Let me.”

Something hungry and soft moved through his expression all at once. He carefully pulled out of you—both of you hissing at the sudden emptiness—then rolled onto his back in one smooth motion. His cock lay heavy and glistening against his stomach— pulsing.

He looked up at you, hands already settling on your waist as you straddled him.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he said, voice low and rough with restraint. “It’s yours. Take whatever you need.”

You braced one hand on his chest and reached down between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around the thick base of him. He was still soaked from you—slick and hot against your palm. You lined him up and sank down slowly.

The stretch punched a broken sound out of your throat. Even after everything, taking him from this angle felt deeper, heavier. You had to work yourself down inch by inch, thighs trembling, until you were finally seated flush against him with his cock buried to the hilt. Your head dropped forward. Eddie’s hands settled on your hips, thumbs stroking soft circles like he was grounding you.

You swallowed, voice already shaky.

“What do you like?”

His eyes were almost black looking up at you. A breathless little laugh left him.

“Anything that makes this pretty cunt of yours cream all over me,” he said, rough and honest. “You want to grind slow and deep until you’re shaking? I’ll lie here and take every second of it. You want to bounce on my cock like a desperate little slut until your legs give out? I’ll hold you up and thank you for the privilege. Use me. Ruin yourself on me. I’m yours.”

So you did.

You started rolling your hips—slow at first, grinding him deep so every movement dragged against that spot inside you that made your stomach tighten. The wet sound of it was filthy. Eddie groaned under you, head tipping back against the pillow, hands sliding up to cup your breasts as you moved. You found a rhythm and stuck to it, lifting up until only the thick head remained inside you before sinking back down and taking every inch again.

“Fuck—look at you,” he growled, voice strained and filthy. “Stretching that tight little hole around my cock. I can feel you fluttering every time you bottom out. So wet you’re dripping down my balls. That’s it. Fuck yourself on me. Show me how badly you needed to get filled.”

Your thighs started burning sooner than you wanted. The deeper angle made every bounce more intense, the stretch relentless, pleasure building sharp and overwhelming all over again. You kept going anyway—determined—until your legs began to shake so hard you could barely lift yourself. A frustrated little sound slipped out of you.

Eddie felt it immediately.

“I’ve got you,” he rasped.

His hands locked hard around your waist. In the next breath he planted his feet on the mattress and started fucking up into you—powerful, upward thrusts that drove his cock deep enough to punch broken moans out of your mouth every time. The new rhythm was relentless. Wet, filthy sounds filled the room as he slammed up into your soaked cunt, using his grip on your hips to pull you down to meet every stroke.

“That’s it—take every fucking inch,” he snarled, eyes locked on where he disappeared inside you. “Sit on my cock and let me ruin you. This greedy little cunt is sucking me in so deep I can feel it in my spine. Dripping down my stomach like a slut who finally got what she needed.” He thrust up harder, the force of it making your tits bounce. “You feel that? That’s me splitting you open. This is what was missing every time some useless asshole couldn’t make you come. A real cock. A man who knows how to use it.”

Your arms gave out. You collapsed forward onto his chest, face buried against his neck, while he kept pounding up into you without mercy—praise and filthy encouragement spilling out of him in a continuous, wrecked stream.

“Come on. Squeeze me. Cream all over this cock while I fuck you stupid. You’re taking me so well I can barely think. Perfect fucking girl. My perfect fucking girl. Gonna keep this up until you forget how to walk straight.”

Eddie kept fucking up into you in hard, relentless strokes, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. Your body jolted with every thrust. He was so deep it felt like he was rearranging you from the inside.

His voice came out rough against your ear.

“Touch yourself. Play with that pretty clit while I fuck you. I want to feel you gush on my cock again.”

Your hand slid down between your bodies without hesitation. The second your fingers found your clit—swollen and oversensitive—you cried out. The dual sensation was almost too much: the thick, brutal drag of his cock splitting you open on every upward thrust and the tight circles you rubbed over your clit. Slick coated your fingers immediately. You were so wet it was obscene.

Eddie groaned like he could feel the way your cunt fluttered harder around him the second you started touching yourself.

“That’s it. Good girl. Rub that clit for me. Make a mess. I want to feel you soak my cock.” He snapped his hips up harder, the force of it punching broken, high sounds out of your throat. “Fuck—you’re gripping me so tight. This greedy little cunt doesn’t want to let me go. Come on. Give it to me. Third time’s the charm, sweetheart. Ruin yourself.”

The orgasm tore through you violently.

Your whole body locked up. A broken sob left your mouth as you came hard—cunt clamping down in strong, rhythmic pulses while a fresh gush of wetness flooded out of you around his cock. It was messy, uncontrollable, soaking his stomach, his hips, the sheets beneath you in a warm rush that just kept coming with every thrust he forced through it. The wet sounds turned filthy and loud. You shook apart on top of him, fingers still moving weakly over your clit as the pleasure dragged on and on.

Eddie cursed low and filthy, fucking you through every spurt until your thighs were trembling too hard to stay upright.

He didn’t stop moving, but his rhythm turned slightly more erratic—hips stuttering as he chased his own edge. His hands gripped your waist hard enough to bruise.

“Where do you want it?” he rasped, voice wrecked. “Tell me. Mouth, tits, stomach—where?”

You lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes, still pulsing around him, still dripping.

“Inside me.”

Something raw and hungry flashed across his face.

“Fuck—okay. Anything you want.”

He pulled you down flush against him and buried himself to the hilt, grinding deep as he finally let go. A long, guttural groan tore out of his chest as he came—hot, thick pulses flooding your cunt in heavy spurts. You could feel every throb, every rope of it painting you deep inside. He kept you locked there, hips pressed tight, cock twitching as he emptied everything he had into you with broken, filthy praise spilling from his mouth.

“Take it—take every drop. Filling this perfect cunt up. Made for this. Made to take my cum.” His forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard. “Fucking perfect. You’re perfect.”

He stayed buried deep as the last aftershocks faded, still pulsing weakly inside you, holding you like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

You collapsed onto his chest like every bone in your body had given up at once.

Eddie stayed inside you for a few more long seconds, one hand stroking slowly up and down your back while the other cradled the back of your head. His heartbeat hammered under your ear. When he finally moved, he did it carefully—rolling you both onto your sides, then easing out of you with a soft, wet sound that made you flinch. You felt the immediate rush of his cum starting to leak out of you and made a small, incoherent noise against the pillow.

“I know,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder and slipped out of bed. You heard the soft sounds of him moving around the dark room—drawer opening, water running in the bathroom—before he came back with a warm washcloth. The mattress dipped as he climbed back in.

Eddie was gentle about it. He wiped between your legs with slow, careful strokes, cleaning up the mess the two of you had made without any teasing. When he finished he tossed the cloth toward the hamper and stretched out beside you, pulling you in until your head was on his chest and one of his arms was locked securely around your waist.

You were barely able to form words. Your body felt heavy and loose and thoroughly used. Every muscle hummed with leftover sparks. You managed a soft, exhausted sound against his skin and that was about it.

Eddie let the quiet sit for a while, fingers tracing idle patterns along your spine. Then, eventually, the familiar edge of amusement crept back into his voice.

“…So.”

You made a questioning noise that didn’t quite become a word.

“I’m just saying,” he continued, clearly trying and failing to sound casual, “for someone who claimed she’d never come from a dude before, you just came two times on my cock and gushed all over my face like it was your job. I’m feeling pretty fucking proud of myself right now.”

You managed a weak, breathless little laugh against his chest.

“There she is,” he said, sounding deeply satisfied. “Thought I broke you for a second.” His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, thumb stroking behind your ear. “You good? Need water? A trophy? I’m open to suggestions.”

You pinched his side weakly. Your voice came out rough and quiet.

“Shut up.”

“Can’t. I’m having a moment. Do you understand the historical significance of what just happened in this bed? I should call Jess. Let her know the little problem has been thoroughly, scientifically solved.”

You groaned into his chest. “If you call Jess I will actually kill you.”

Eddie laughed—low and warm and completely unrepentant—and pulled you closer, tucking the blankets up around both of you.

“Fine. No phone calls. But I reserve the right to be unbearably smug about this for at least a week.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, voice dropping softer even as the teasing stayed. “You did so good for me. Seriously.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue.

You just let him hold you, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek, while the last of the aftershocks faded and the witty, insufferable version of him settled back in like he’d never left.

Two days later the bar was dead again—same sticky counters, same half-hearted jukebox, same mid-afternoon quiet that made the whole place feel like it was holding its breath.

Eddie had been insufferable since the second he walked in.

He didn’t say anything outright. He didn’t have to. It was in the way he moved around you—closer than usual, hand lingering at the small of your back every time he slipped past, that permanent little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he was replaying the entire night on a loop. Every time you caught his eye across the bar he just raised an eyebrow, slow and filthy, and went back to polishing a glass like he hadn’t just rearranged your entire understanding of sex in his shitty little bungalow.

Jess lasted maybe forty minutes before she cracked.

She leaned across the bar while Eddie was restocking the back, voice low and delighted. “Okay. What the fuck happened.”

You kept wiping the same clean section of counter. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit. He’s been floating around like he invented the orgasm and you keep turning the color of a stop sign every time he looks at you. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.”

Eddie chose that exact moment to reappear, carrying a case of beer like it weighed nothing. He set it down, glanced between the two of you, and the smirk widened.

“Talking about me?” he asked, all faux innocence.

Jess pointed at him. “You. Explain why you’re walking around like— like that."

Eddie leaned his elbows on the bar right next to you, close enough that his arm brushed yours. He smelled like the same cologne from the other night. “No idea what you’re talking about. I’m just in a good mood. Weather’s nice. Tips were decent yesterday. Life is beautiful.”

You shot him a warning look. He ignored it completely.

Jess’s eyes narrowed, bouncing between the two of you. Then something clicked. Her mouth fell open.

“Oh my god.”

“Jess—” you started.

“You didn’t.”

Eddie examined his rings like they were suddenly fascinating. “Didn’t what?”

“You fixed the little problem,” she said, voice climbing with glee. “You actually fixed it. Look at her face. Look at your face. Holy shit.”

You dropped the rag and pointed at both of them. “We are not talking about this.”

Jess clasped her hands under her chin. “I need every detail. Immediately. Was it good? Was it life-changing? How many times did you—”

“I will quit,” you said flatly.

Eddie made a thoughtful sound, tilting his head. “Y’know, I’m happy to provide a full report if she’s too shy. In the interest of science. And friendship. And the betterment of women everywhere who’ve been suffering under subpar—”

You shoved his shoulder hard enough that he laughed and had to catch himself on the bar.

“Do not.”

He held up both hands, still grinning like the cat that got everything it ever wanted. “Offer stands. Jess, you just say the word and I’ll give you the entire play by play. ”

Jess looked like Christmas had come early. “I’m listening.”

You grabbed the rag again and turned away, face burning, but you couldn’t quite hide the smile pulling at your mouth.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said, loud enough for only you to catch the undertone, “I’m available for follow-up research whenever you want.”

The bar stayed dead for the rest of the shift.

Somehow that felt exactly right.

taglist: @gem-writes @hamilhansen @5lutforeddie @beasbrain @julxsxx @shecleansup @jinxispunk @s1mp-4-ga11y @a-villain-vying-for-attention @sweetstatic @qardasngan @arcticmazecrystal @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

[hsispunk]

Even if it kills me.

steve harrington x female reader

warnings: angst & 18+ smut: p in v, love making basically, praise kink, and cream pie.

summary: you had a nightmare about vecna, so you sneak into bed with steve.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: had this random idea so i wrote it! please send me smutty requests i rarely have ideas now and i needd someee. summer is almost over and i want to write as much as i can with the time i have left.!!! also sorry this smut is kinda weak lol. also thank you guys for 500 followers HOW CRAZY IS THAT!!!

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-

“please, no!” you shout at the figure in front of you. it was tall and looked like it was made out of human flesh. vecna.

steve was hovering in the air in front of vecna while your were helpless on the ground from being thrown across the room.

“it’s time,” he says as he brings steve closer to his hand that’s controlling his movements.

“no! stop, steve! please!” you scream just as vecnas hand is about to engulf steve’s entire face. steve looks over at you at the last second before he mouths three words to you.

“i love you.” and vecnas nails go straight into steve’s skull, the life being sucked out of him.

his body falls to the ground and vecna looks over at you. his hand lifts up, and you feel your body matching the movements. “no, no, no. let me go. please.”

you are now face to face with vecna. his hand is about to cover your face, just like he had done with steve, until he speaks.

“this is just the beginning, y/n.”

you wake up from your nightmare, chest moving up and down rapidly, and sweat covering your entire body.

this wasn’t the first nightmare, and it certainly wasn’t the last. you look around the room to find robin still asleep on the ground.

the whole crew had decided to stay at your house after a night of fighting the secret of hawkins. your parents were out of town, so everyone got a room.

the kids all slept downstairs in the basement, robin slept with you, jonathan and nancy in the guest bedroom, and steve in your parents' room.

sure, you told everyone about these dreams of vecna coming and killing you, but one thing you left out was that he killed steve before you.

you decided to keep it private from everyone, including steve, for two reasons. one, you didn’t want to scare him, and two, no one knows that you and steve have been secretly together for the past couple of months.

so, telling everyone that steve tells you he loves you before he dies in your dreams wasn’t something you were going to share with the rest of the crew.

after calming down your breathing, you decide to get up and head to your parents' room, where steve was sleeping. you tried to be as quiet as you could while tiptoeing around robin who was peacefully asleep on the floor.

you slowly open the door to your parents' room, careful not to make any noise before shutting it behind you.

steve lies on his stomach, back to you, sheets hanging low on his hips. you sneak in behind him and immediately wrap your arms around his body.

you feel him move around, now facing you to hold you against him. “what time is it?” he mumbles against you.

“around four. i had a bad dream again. i just wanted to be near you.” you say, and he gets up quick.

his eyes squint as they look at you, you start to break a little. holding in the truth about these dreams has really taken a toll on you.

“hey, hey, baby. it’s okay. i’ll never let him touch you. not even come near you. you’re safe, baby. i promise.” he wipes away your tears and pulls you to sit up with him.

“s-steve, it’s not just that. someone else dies in my dream before i do. i have to sit there and watch him,” you try and say through tears. this was news to steve, he always thought it was just you being targeted. “he takes away someone i care so much about.”

he looks confused as you talk about this new piece of information. “baby, who?” he asks.

“you. he kills you, steve.” you can’t even look him in the eyes because you don’t understand why your brain does this to you. why would you dream such a thing? “what is wrong with me?”

“baby, nothing is wrong with you. he’s getting into your head. you can’t let him.” he hides his worry from you, not wanting to add to how you’re already feeling.

the room is silent apart from your small sniffles. steve runs his hands up and down your shoulders as you are now both lying down.

“i’m scared steve.” you look up at him.

“me too, but i won’t let anything happen to us.” he looks down at you. “i love you.”

he leans down to kiss you, and you meet him halfway. the kiss is slow, meaningful, and comforting. it’s everything you needed in this moment.

even though he is right next to you, you can’t get enough of him. you don’t break the kiss as you move to straddle his lap, his hands finding their place across your back.

you start to place small, soft kisses along his jaw down to his neck. his cock hardens underneath you, and you feel it.

“i need you, steve.” you whine.

“you have me, baby.” he says as he moves your hips up and slips his boxers lower to free his hard cock. you take off your nightgown, leaving you in nothing but lace panties. his eyes never leave your body.

you take his leaking cock into your hand before spitting down on it and slowly stroking it. “shit,” steve whispers. you slide your panties to the side to reveal your dripping pussy and hover over his tip.

“i love you, steve.” you say before sliding down his length, your velvet walls squeezing him tight. you both gasp in pleasure; he reaches places so deep inside you, it’s hard to keep quiet.

his hands find their home on your ass, guiding you to move up and down on his cock.

“fuck, you’re so good to me, y/n.” he moans. “just like that baby girl.” the praise goes straight to your pussy, you can’t help but kiss him again.

the kiss is hot and passionate. your tongues clash against one another. he starts to thrust upwards into your wet pussy, making you break the kiss, head falling to his shoulder. “oh my god, steve.”

“you’re taking me so well, my beautiful girl.” he moans into your ear while he holds you, chest to chest. his hands roam over every inch of your skin, trying to somehow pull you closer to him than you already are.

your jelly at this point from him fucking up into you. so, you bring your hand between your bodies and play with your sensitive clit. electricity shoots straight through your body.

“i’m gonna come, steve.” you whine, and his thrusts speed up from your motivation.

“your going to come all over me, okay? come on my cock, baby.” he says, and it’s all you need to let go.

“shit, steve!” you moan, he quiets you with a kiss.

your body twitches on top of his as he fucks you through your orgasm. he’s not too far behind you, as you feel spurts of come coat your walls.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” he chants out as he fills you up.

heavy panting fills the room, and you both hope you weren’t too loud in a silent house of all your friends.

steve slips out of you and cleans you up with your nightgown. you were going to sleep with him tonight. he didn’t give a single shit about anyone finding you in bed with him in the morning.

he looks over at you to find the stress of the nightmare and the sex you just had put you right to sleep.

steve brushes your hair back before placing a kiss on your forehead and whispers something he knows you’d fight him on.

“i’ll keep you safe, even if it kills me.”

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[moeyy-writes]

On the Clock

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: light smut (vaginal fingering), suggestive language, slight praise kink?, mild awkwardness. Smut starts right below the cut. That’s it really.

Word Count: 828

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[dallianceangelx]

modern!au!steve harrington buying smart glasses with a camera in them just so he can record your times together, and you can see just how well you take him and how perfect you both are 😜😏

[s111ut]

Okay a smutty blurb or whatever where steves gf likes to wear boxers to sleep ( like not even his just boxers in general) and steve wants to finger reader through the hole in the front of the boxers 😭😭😭😭 so self indulgent im sick to my stomach actually

okay this was supposed to be a short blurb but i cant shut up 🧍‍♀️😭😭

warnings: fingering, soft dom steve <33, little bit of cum kissing, not proofread

wc: 1.3k

steve lays back on his elbows as he watches you change into your sleepwear, which consists of an old t-shirt of yours and a pair of boxers.

“god, i think its so sexy when you wear those.”

you look up at him, confused. “hm? wear what?”

“y’know,” he shrugs, nodding his head at you, “the boxers.”

“i could be wearing a lacy night gown or something thats objectively more sexy, but this is what gets you going?” the mattress sinks as you join steve on the bed, his large arms wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him.

“yeah,” he grins, “‘s a great look on you.”

steves lips move to your collarbone, kissing you gently.

“tell me more,” your words had come out more breathy than you had intended.

you feel him smile against your skin, he knows hes got you now.

“well for starters,” his kisses move to the column of your neck, “you look comfy.”

“comfy? in what world is comfy sexy?” you cant help but laugh at his reasoning. his lips move away from your skin, looking at you as if you had said the most absurd thing.

“in mine,” he answers almost defensively. “youre just so comfortable, you make boxers sexy.” his lips start working against your neck again.“and besides, it makes it easier for me to touch you,” his hands trail downward to the little opening in the middle of your boxers, “here.”

you bite back a moan as he runs his finger up and down your slit. heat rushes to your cheeks at the contact. he removes his hand just for a moment, just to suck on his fingers to get them wet for you.

he reaches his hands down between your thighs once more, “open up for me, baby.” thats all it took for you to spread your legs to allow him better access through the opening of your boxers. his thick finger tips glide effortlessly around your clit.

“tell me what you want.”

“your fingers.”

“uh-huh,” he nods, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, “where?”

“inside?” your voice is nothing short of a desperate whine.

two of steves fingers make their way to your entrance, before slowly pushing in. you gasp at the feeling, steve analyzes your face, his brows furrow in concentration as he watches to make sure there are no signs of discomfort. the wrinkle in his brow completely disappears once he feels you clench around him and how wet you are. once his fingers are fully inside, he doesnt move them, he scissors them gently inside of you.

“come on,” you huff out impatiently, bucking your hips up.

steve chuckles dryly at you.

“someones needy.” his free hand gives your thigh a soft pinch

steve pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly before curling his fingers against that one spot that makes your head spin. steves smirk grows as he watches your breath catch. “yeah that feels nice, hm?” he teases. “right there?”

you cant manage real words, but you nod your head eagerly.

“look at how pretty you are, baby,” he coos in your ear.

his fingers are moving with such precision inside of you, your body trembles when you feel his thumb start to circle your clit. soft moans fall out of you as steve works you with his fingers. steve can feel himself getting harder and harder in his sweats but he doesnt care. he wants it to be all about you.

“think you can take another?”

your legs open even more instinctively as you look up at him with your eyes all glossy and desperate, nodding. steve swears hes never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“gonna add a third. breathe, baby,” he gently reminds you. “big stretch.”

steve adjusts, moving his third finger through the hole of the fabric and making his way to your entrance. he pulls his other two fingers out. now all his fingers are lined up at your entrance. he scans your face for any hesitation, “you want this? i need words, baby.”

your voice trembles with need, “yes, please.”

“good girl,” he praises. he slowly sinks in all three of his thick fingers. steves own breath hitches when he feels how tight you are. he lets you adjust, not moving just yet.

“its okay? doesnt hurt? youre really tight.”

“n-no, promise,” you pant, “feels so good.”

the stretch is intense, but the pleasure is unbelievable. he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy slowly, just to get you used to the feeling. you feel like youre on cloud nine, you cant even form any proper thoughts. all you can think about is how good your boyfriends fingers feel inside of you while his thumb steadily rubs at your clit. steve is beyond amused watching your blissed out state.

“you with me baby?” he chuckles softly

“uh-huh,” you nod, with a hazy smile.

“i love you,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against your cheek.

“i love you too—” youre cut off by your own loud moan as steve curls his fingers inside of you.

if theres one thing you have learned about steve throughout your relationship, its that he loves coaxing noises out of you. he curls his fingers more deliberately, more intentionally, drawing more cries and moans from you. the wet shlick of your pussy and your needy sounds fill the room. youre so wet beneath him, you can feel it drip onto your boxers, and so can steve.

“youre gonna have to change after this, you know?” he teases. “cant have you going to bed all messy.”

youre really in no position to come up with a smart ass response, not when the heat thats pooling in your belly is becoming more intense and prominent. steve reads you like a book, he can tell by the way your chest is heaving and how your hips twitch that youre close.

“steve,” you mewl

“i know, baby,” he keeps curling his fingers at the same pace, but he slightly increases the speed on your clit.

“steve,” you cry out again, more breathless than anything.

“i got you, come on. let go for me baby.”

his lips brush against yours, which is completely useless since how you cant even bring yourself to kiss him back because of how overwhelmed you are by pleasure. your lips stay parted, gasping his name in between moans.

he loves how fucked out you are from just his fingers, so he resorts to kissing and biting against your neck. his fingers continue to work on you expertly, every muscle in your body tenses as your orgasm hits you, pure pleasure runs throughout your entire body. your walls flutter around steves finger rhythmically. you cant stop moaning steves name, he keeps working his fingers to help you ride it out.

“good girl,” he praises, kissing just below your ear. your eyelids flutter at his kisses, as well as the feeling of your orgasm subsiding.

ever so carefully, he pulls his fingers out, which are absolutely coated in your cum.

“fuck, baby,” he holds his fingers up, examining them in the soft light of the bedroom. “look at that.”

steve brings his glistening digits to his mouth, savoring your taste. he wastes no time pulling you into a kiss. his tongue messily mashes against yours, sharing your taste. when he pulls away, his adams apple bobs as he swallows and his lips are slightly swollen.

“its sweet, right?”

his smile is stupidly proud.

steve suddenly stands up, fetching you a clean pair of boxers. he crawls back into bed, gently peeling down your now damp boxers. as hes helping you get changed, hes placing soft kisses on your knee and thigh.

“did so good for me.”

“i love you so much.”

he slips the clean pair on smoothly, joining you back in bed, pulling you close to his chest.

maybe you should wear boxers to bed more often..