#i love summertime steve!

[teenbiology]

of course i had to add the song so i can really immerse myself in the those summertime feelings

another one! 📽 📽

imagine it’s summer and it’s hot and the sun is so toasty on your skin and steve feels restless and spontaneous so he suggests you go on a drive so you pack some driving snacks and hit the road. it somehow ends with you and steve at lovers lake (or a less traumatic lake for him poor lad lol) and y’all go for a dip, in your underwear or maybe, ya know, a lil skinny dipping shenanigans are in your future 😉 *in the summertime by mungo jerry plays*

okay ily ruby have fun and again congrats girl!!! xoxo

mmmmm we all deserve summertime steve for fuckin real obsessed with the vibes you have created in the studio today maddie ur brain so delicio 🌊 yet again, i cannot shut up for the life of me <3 i want to go swchimming w him so bad fr he’s such a summer bf

it’ll have been one of those sweltering nights where even the sheets feel too much and come morning, not one ounce of you wants to stay in bed and cuddle like you normally do because it’s stinkin’ hot and you’re fairly certain steve is already sweating lightly just pressed next to you— you tell him as much when he tries to sleepily cuddle you in closer, giving him a pout and a “s’too warm, stevie :(“ and steve can’t even disagree, he’s burning up in the heat of the sun through your windows - but there’s also a glimpse of blue blue sky stretching out endlessly, which means opportunity !

so he flops back, relents the space and stares at the ceiling while u stare at him, just observing him lovingly, counting every mole <3 he takes a minute of quiet contemplation, during which your back manages to get completely heated, pressed against the mattress, and you’re bout to complain bout it again when he blows a raspberry and turns his head to face you. “d’ya wanna go for a drive? :) nd maybe a swim?” and god, if that doesn’t sound like heaven- you’re nodding along before you even open your mouth but also, u gotta check in with him “you sure ya wanna swim, stevie?” and his eyes search your face for a moment, thinking about it properly, before he nods, a grateful smile pulling at his lips, “yeah, honey, we’ll drive outta hawkins to find a good spot- sound okay?”

overtop your swimsuit, you pick a nice pair of daisy-dukes that definitely catch steve’s eye for an extra second and you grin, having to shoo him into getting ready— and you meet him down in his car, rolling the windows down to combat the sun that’s letting out blistering hot heatwaves, making u long for a popsicle or anything icy really. steve’s out a couple minutes later, two towels over his shoulders and a— you sit up a bit straighter, spotting the picnic basket in his hands!!! he calls forward as he opens the trunk to put stuff in, “i thought we could have some snacks! make a lil picnic date of it!” and you chest bursts with warmth and love for him and you literally can’t say anything except, “you’re sorta incredible, steve harrington” and it’s just the thing to say to get that flushed colour on his cheeks that has nothing to do with the heat and all to do with what you do to him.

driving along, you desperately wish you had a camera if only to capture the image of steve beside you, windows down, the breeze ruffling his hair and the collar of his shirt which is unbuttoned dangerously low. you can see the thatch of chest hair against his tan chest, his collarbones that are honestly begging for a lovebite or maybe ten, those classic cool glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. you’re fairly certain you could look at him like this for hours- and he seems to return the sentiment fully, spending the drive torn between glancing at you in the passenger seat — one hand curled over your thigh, fingers drumming, and a happy grin on his face — and his eyes on the open road that takes you out of hawkins. the warm wind whips in through the windows and blankets you both in the glow of summer :)

steve ends up finding a nice swimming hole, 20 minutes out of hawkins, that’s part of one big river winding through the countryside. it’s busy, people swarming around the water like ants to honey, but that’s to be expected in the the heat of summer. you nd steve both instinctively steer clear of the crowd, wandering further up stream to see if you can find a sweet lil bay for just the two of you— and you manage to find another sweet lil spot that’s empty besides from you two and steve declares himself king of the beach, planting the picnic basket like a flag.

the heat is infinitely worse out of the car, without any wind to cool you off, and the trickling sounds of the river might be your greatest temptation, besides your boyfriend who’s wasted no time in tugging his shirt up and over his head. the sight of him in just those small swimming shorts, tan hairy thighs on display, might just rival the river for your attention. the water in the river moves about sluggishly, swirling around itself in a syrupy motion, and you know it’s about to be the best cool off of your life- you follow steve’s motions and shed off your shorts and shirt in record speed

steve’s already waiting for you in the shallows, water sloshing around his ankles noisily, and looking back at you he can’t resist the urge to let a little whistle when you drop your shorts — it earns him an endeared eye-roll that only makes his grin a little wider, his hand planting on his hips, “just enjoying the view, don’t mind me” so you take that as your cue to take off, feet splashing in the shallow water and you’re diving in without a moments hesitation— it’s freezing and the sensation of it zings every nerve til you’re unable to do anything but grin and curse when you come up because fuck, it’s cold. it’s fantastically cold.

steve’s still waiting in the shallows, that familiar smitten expression on his face as he watches you gasp at the temperature change and push back your soaked hair from your face, spin to look for him and grin wider when he comes into view. you paddle back in his direction, shaking off the droplets that collect at your chin. your feet find the bottom of the riverbed and you stand, against the push of the river, and hold out your hands for him, trying to coax him in to join you in the deeper parts of the river. because you know, it’s always a bit hard after everything, entering water again — you can still see the twisted up skin that stretches up his sides, faded with time, but a memory etched into his skin all the same.

steve takes a step out towards you, then another, then pauses and his eyes scour the water all around you— his expression already falling away to concern. you can sense his mothering sense rising up and try to quell it before he can voice any anxieties, “eyes on me, stevie” you say, with a wry grin and make grabby hands at him, encouraging him more- you can see the quick inhale he does before he pushes forward, eyes focused on you, your loving grin, your inviting hands, and he doesn’t stop til he can grab them with his own. you’re pushing off the riverbed instantly, legs up and around his waist and shifting so your hands circle around his neck, sweet murmurs about how you’re proud of him til steve is warm enough in the face that he simply has to dunk to both of you, his mischievous grin giving you warning just a second too late

you’re gasping, coughing just a bit when he pulls you both back up and you smack him in the chest— “you bastard! you- i can’t believe you—“ and when he sinks his knees a little deeper, you change your tone quick, clambering closer to him, “don’t you dare, steve, i swear, if you want remain in a loving relationship you will—” “gimme a kiss,” he interrupts and your head snaps from watching the cool water swirl around you to his face and he’s grinning, completely serious, his hands on your waist pulling you closer til he’s nosing along the damp plane of your neck, mumbling into it “kiss or get dunked. that’s the deal, sweetheart,” and then he presses a hot kiss under your jaw and pulls back to wait for you to make a decision. you sigh real heavy like it’s a chore, hanging your head back as you pretend to think about it with a loud “hmmmm” til you’re about sure he’s gonna dunk you again. your thighs tighten and you pull yourself up with your grip around his neck and give him exactly what he asked for :) then u guys eat ur picnic and it’s the perfect lil summertime date :) this is too long my god

[ghost-proofbaby]

ATTENTION: YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO A SUMMERTIME WRITING EVENT!

hey you. yeah, you. has the summer heat got you down? have you been looking for all the right vibes in all the wrong places?

same.

which is why i invite you to join me, your friendly neighborhood ghost, in a wonderful and excellently vibey event to cure all that summertime sadness and turn it sickeningly sweet.

through the month of july and august, i will be talking requests based on guidelines listed below, with the only real theme being summer. i'll be writing for all our favorite fictional crushes, so just follow the rules, submit a request, and vibe with me <3

IN ORDER TO BEGIN, you'll first need to pick your poisons: the muse, and the flavor.

for this event, i will be writing for the following characters:

♡ eddie munson (stranger things)

♡ steve harrington (stranger things)

♡ robin buckley (stranger things)

♡ astarion ancunin (baldur's gate 3)

♡ gale dekarios (baldur's gate 3)

once you've chosen the lover of your summertime fantasies, you're going to need to choose your flavor of sweetness. for these dog days, our menu includes:

♡ strawberry: fluff

♡ blueberry: hurt/comfort

♡ lemon: smut

♡ blackberry: angst

with your muse and flavor now chosen, you must choose what time of day you'll be enjoying your summer sweet treat. we have two options for this category, with two different sets of rules, so please read carefully!

summer solstice: the solstice that marks the onset of summer, at the time of the longest day.

if you submit a summer solstice request, you are requesting for a longer fic, 2k words minimum. these requests will take me longer, and should be reserved for more descriptive/specific requests. when you submit one, you will need to include a full description of what you are looking for.

i.e.: "could i please have a strawberry summer solstice with eddie munson, where reader and eddie meet for the first time at a bonfire and spend the entire night getting up to sheenanigans like stealing wine from others, skinny dipping in lover's lake, star-gazing on the shore, and eddie ends up walking reader home at the end of it all?"

you must have a description of what you are looking for in the request for this specific type. if you give nothing for me to go off of, i can't write you the minimum of 2k words of sweetness! this is for anyone who may have a specific vision for a story, but can't execute it/find it across the appropriate tags already.

midsummer's night: the eve of the longest day of summer, marked as the shortest night of summer.

if you submit a midsummer's night request, you are requesting for a shorter fic, under 2k words (500-1k words most likely). these are requests i will be able to fulfill more quickly, and work best for anyone who wants to submit but doesn't have a very specific idea in mind!

i.e.: "could i please blueberry lemon midsummer's night with astarion? maybe including an argument about a recent fight or something where one of them nearly got hurt!"

these requests have a lot more leniency, and will be more about what my mind will conjure from vague descriptions! try to avoid giving too many details when requesting this kind - if you have a more specific vision, just hit me with a summer solstice (and some patience) <3

alright. whew. now that we've gotten through all the guidelines regarding requests, feel free to drop into my inbox and let the party begin! again, i'll be taking these requests and fulfilling them all the way through august.

if there's a specific character you want to see not listed on here but i have expressed interest in before (i.e. joel miller, spencer reid, karlach from bg3, etc.), feel free to still request them but be wary that there's no guarantee i will fulfill the request!

as always with these events, be sure your requests abides by my rules, and once again, please be patient with me. these type of events in the past have spurred on enough responses i don't get to even half of them, but i'm prolonging this over two months to try and ensure i can get a bulk of whatever lovely ideas you all send in written! <3

aight. okay. let's party on, for real now. happy summer, y'all!

[marsmad]

I can literally smell the coconut sunscreen and taste the salt on his skin ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

📸 samneill.photo on IG

[baddiewiththebook]

STUFFING AND SAUCE [18+]

-> It's Thanksgiving, and the gang is all together under one roof: the Henderson house. While Mrs. Henderson and Wayne battle the turkey in the kitchen, Eddie fights his own urges with the older Henderson sibling. You're home for the holidays, and Eddie's hungry. . . but, not for turkey.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> hookup to lovers, angst, smut

-> warning - explicit content [18+]

a/n -> This is reuploaded and heavily edited from last year.

-> <-

"You keep looking in that mirror and I'll break it," Dustin warns.

Robin's hair stands on end. "You can't be serious? That bad luck is transferable, you know?"

Dustin rolls his eyes at her superstition because honestly they've all come to an agreement to help set the table for Thanksgiving dinner party that his mother has offered to host this year. And, with Eddie's lack of partaking because he's too busy blotting down his hair in the mirror, Dustin doesn't understand why Eddie's come to his house in the first place.

The older boy fidgets with the end of his shirt, and not long after Robin comes to his ear to tell him that you'll love how he looks tonight. That's right, you're coming. He's totally forgotten that Dustin's sister is in town for Thanksgiving. Eddie's hair dangles over his cheeks, so that hopefully no one sees him blush.

"When does your sister get here?" Max throws herself onto the couch next to Steve, whom scoots a seat over from her. Lately, he realizes, she's been a bit too clingy to him.

"She's late," Dustin checks the clock that hangs high above on the wall ticking the time away. "She should have been here an hour ago- Eddie!"

Eddie abandons his task once again to dash over to the front window facing the street. Frost makes the drying grass and the limp trees appear shiny like glass. Foggy car headlights grow larger as they near. Seeing your Honda pull up the short drive brings back memories from the summertime.

Last summer was a record high in heat, which left you with barely any clothes to wear that didn’t leave your skin sticky and hot. Especially when Eddie was bent over the hood of your car and knuckles deep in your engine. Greased up hands and all, he wiped the sweat from his brow to tell you that your car was fixed. When you offered him cash as payment, he declined to the manor of being friendly not as the professional Eddie Munson - mechanic. You chewed on your bottom lip while batting your lashes in his direction.

Eddie’s unsure how you can make him melt, while simply being you. But, eventually, you worked out a payment that both of you were happy with. And, you continued that payment damn near every week. In his office. In his garage. In his van. In his kitchen. In his shower. In his bed.

No space in his shop or in his apartment are left sacred to either of you. And, when the summer was done, you were off to college. No calls or texts from either of you.

“She’s here!” Max spins in the front hallway. You are her idol. She swears you are the coolest person she’s ever met (aside from El).

Dustin shoves Eddie out of the way to observe for himself that in fact his sister has come home for the holidays. Not long after, their shared mom runs out of the house with her apron around her neck like a cape in her sprint.

“Hi, baby!” Your mom peppers your face with her kisses.

You whine. “Mom!”

“Okay, okay!” She pinches your cheeks until they’re glowing, but she does let you go.

Following her is your little brother, Dustin, who grabs you around the waist and he pulls you in tight. He’s gotten much taller since the last time you’ve seen him, but that can’t be right. You’ve only been gone for a few months!

“Hi, Dusty!” You ruffle his hair.

He grins. “What did you bring me?”

“I barely have enough money for books!” You snort.

Dustin drops his grip and then he fans you away. The little sucker grumbles, and avoids helping you with your suitcase despite your mom’s request. But, Steve and Robin dogpile you with warm greetings and Steve offers to help with your bag.

“I need all the dirt on college,” Robin whispers. “Are there really stains on all the sheets?”

What she means to ask is much raunchier. But, your mother is still picking at your clothes because you haven’t ironed this shirt. She’s got this look upon her face like you’ve been away at sea for years and years, and not like you’ve spent two months away at college.

Steve lugs your suitcase inside with you in tow. The rest of your brother’s little friends have also crowded around to get a piece of you. You’re like a celebrity in your own home. Even Wayne’s got his arm around you, whom you didn’t expect to see (but, you’re not complaining - you love Wayne).

Wayne’s got himself stuck in the kitchen with your mom to help her with the turkey. You’re the top subject right now, but soon he dashes off to make sure the bird isn’t drying out in the oven. Conversation begins to swirl like normal, and you’re on the lookout for the one person you might have missed a little more than you should.

You sit on the living room couch between Nancy and Steve with Robin at your feet, and the kids are running about the home hiding a can of whipped cream from your mom and Wayne (who are the only adults capable of reprimanding them of course).

“Do you have any plans while you’re in town?” Nancy asks.

You hope she doesn’t see your neck crane over her curly head. “None, but I’m here for the weekend and Monday since I don’t have classes.”

“What’s your schedule like?”

Nancy overloads everything she can while you’re around. No offense to the other people in your friend group, but they didn’t invite intellectual conversations like you and she did. She’s got too many questions for you, while you’re overthinking that the mid-length skirt you wore is too much.

“Have either of you seen Eddie?” Wayne poses the eye opening question that has the whole gang bobbing their head back and forth like meerkats.

“I saw his van outside, right? I’ll check there,” you stand away from your spot on the sofa.

Robin wants to make a sly comment about your willingness to brave the cold for this shaggy man, who seems to have taken a full shower, shave and added cologne to his washed outfit for the evening. She bites her tongue.

“Bathroom?” Nancy suggests that she go upstairs, and Robin will check this floor.

Steve hauls himself from the couch. “I’ll check outside.”

Steve secretly wishes that Eddie be there smoking a joint that he could bum off of. Holidays aren’t Steve’s favorite because his family isn’t around either. He’s here because he can’t say ‘no’ to Mrs. Henderson.

To no knowledge of Eddie, however, is anyone looking out for him. He’s snuck out to his van while everyone else stays distracted by your arrival. Watching your chest bounce while you laugh, or your skirt flutter while you twirl - you’re a God damn tease and you know what you’re doing.

Knock, knock.

You wrap your knuckles against the glass of his van’s driver’s side window. This must be Eddie’s lucky day, and you’re thinking the same by the way you twist in front of him.

“What’s up?” Eddie nods.

You pout. “Well, you didn’t even say ‘hi’ to me and you’re already bailing?”

“I’m not bailing,” he assures. “Besides, do you think that the way we greet each other is appropriate to do in public?”

A part of you is quite offended that he hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room. Not only did he neglect to call you in the past few months, nor did he greet you at the door like the rest of your friends had done earlier. But, the other part of you is winning over this tug of war. You haven’t had sex in months, and shining your own shield only goes so far.

During the summer, you got what you wanted. You and Eddie screwed like rabbits. When you left, a nagging itch was left that couldn’t be scratched. Admittedly, you got cozy in his apartment. Your sleepovers became ‘Good Morning’ with a side of eggs and toast. Soon began you washing the dishes after, and Eddie asking about what you’re studying for school.

After a while, his apartment became a second home and you no longer had to ask where the bathroom was. You pretended that this little game was to keep Dustin’s watchful eye out of sight, but sipping your morning brew without asking Eddie to add anymore cream or sugar became a bit more than you bargained for.

You’re leaning forward now to press a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But, before you have a chance to pull away, Eddie slots his lips to yours like he’s made his way home.

“You want to take advantage that there’s no one parked behind me? Like old times?” Eddie pinches your chin with his index finger and his thumb.

It just so happens that the Beyers family is running a tad behind schedule. Will couldn’t find his Christmas sweater, and Johnathan had to second his shower because according to his mom, he still stunk like a skunk had run through their house. But, as they finally do pull up to the lively home with Christmas lights twinkling on the roof, Joyce Byers spots the eldest Henderson twisted in close conversation with the Munson boy.

Joyce parks their car halfway onto the sidewalk because Johnathan is jolting out of the car murmuring something about the food smelling so good. This leaves Will to juggle the grocery bags full of potatoes and Mac and Cheese into the house. But, Joyce stops to interrupt the conversation you’re having.

“Hi, Miss. Byers,” you pull away from the conversation to greet her warmly.

“Joyce, honey! Joyce!” She corrects. “I didn’t mean to- oh, I’m sorry. Hello, Eddie!”

Eddie waves his hand in her direction. That’s not to be rude, but he would rather not have Joyce see him in a pair of tight denim with his dick as hard as it is right now.

“We’re just going out for a last minute grocery run,” your lie leaves a sour note on your tongue.

Joyce knows very well that the last grocery store to stay open on Thanksgiving has closed about thirty minutes ago. But, she doesn’t tell them that she knows this. She quite fondly looks back to her own memories of when she snuck out of her family ‘s Christmas party with her boyfriend at the time.

“Be safe,” Joyce winks, then turns on her heel to go inside.

You’re quick to hop into the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. An old bitter cigarettes scent stains the interior of the vehicle like a thick layer of butter on toast. You buckle up, then kick your feet out in what little room he has under the dash. Eddie’s abused the passenger side of his van for fast food wrappers and travel mugs he hasn’t taken inside for however long.

Aside from a tire whining, Eddie cuts the headlights to sneak out of the drive without anyone noticing from inside.

Eddie places one of his hands across your thigh, “Grocery shopping?”

"What was I supposed to say?" You shake your head

You’re biting at the edge of something wonderful here. Looking on to your left, Eddie’s got his lip tugged between his teeth. His eye on the road. His mind in the gutter. The hand he’s got squeezing against the fat of your inner thigh dances dangerously across your skin. Your spine arches straight back. Eyes shut blissfully as you let a whine escape you.

Then, he dares flick your awaiting clit while driving solo with one hand on the wheel and an eye on the road. Not to be crude, but he’s been here before with you. Tight on time. Sneaking about like high schoolers still. You’re on his mind most of the time these days because he wants to know if what you did with him all summer is what you would do in college with other people. He’s subjected himself to exhausting torturous hours at work just so he doesn’t have to think about you in your back getting railed by a random dude.

Somehow he’s got you here now, and your putty under his fingers. Your eyelashes flutter. Brows furrow. Your chest rises and falls at the lightest touches from him.

Clenching your legs against his large grip he's got on you, Eddie pulls off to the side of the road. He’s waited far too long to revisit this little charade. Pulling in behind a few trees, he doesn’t have to ask because you’re already climbing into the back.

You land on a set of blankets he hasn’t taken out since you left.

Eddie crawls into the back after you. Kisses like he never left. Nostalgia makes your heart skip inside of your chest. He keeps you there under his touch, and squeezing at your sides as you sink deeper into his embrace.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Eddie breathes onto your neck, before attaching himself there and nibbling into your flesh.

Your whines acknowledge that he’s got just the right spot - like he could have forgotten. The embrace is so familiar that your chest burns for him.

“More,” you beg into his hair, while gripping your hands into fists of the fabric on his back.

If there was more time, Eddie would have stayed there all night just to hear your heart beat against his eardrum. Yet, he’s undoing his belt, the button on his jeans and pulling the zipper down to match you flipping up that sinful little skirt you wore just to tease him. Wetting his fingers, he then hooks his pinky in your underwear to move them to the side. Rubbing your clit, Eddie hears your moans bounce from each side of the van. You’re on full display. Deliciously beautiful and all for him.

You’re both aware of this, so there’s no need to say anything.

“Eddie,” except you do. “Please. I need you!”

“I’ll never stop needing you,” he finds your lips again, as he pushes himself deep inside of you.

Groaning together, your core aches a familiar feeling. Tightening your grip against him like you’re scared he’ll run away. He’s got his eye not on your eye, but on your soul. Reaching far beneath the depths that anyone could ever fall into, and at its core is you. Your being is the only part he’ll ever need - the only thing he longs for. And so, as he’s fucking you at a punishing rate, he holds on tight for he’s afraid to let go.

You break the eye contact when you toss your head back. Stars form in your vision, as you topple over the edge of bliss. Following soon, you hear Eddie groan one last time and he’s spilling inside of you.

“Shit,” he rolls onto the blankets trying to catch his breath.

You’re doing the same, and with one long exhale, you swing yourself over so that you’re laying across his body. Eddie drowsily opens his eye to see the most beautiful creature he’s laid his eye on. Lipstick smeared. Mascara smudged. Your heart sounds as though it’s going to burst from your chest.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly.

Eddie chuckles. “Hey, beautiful.”

Beautiful. That’s an unspoken word between you two. Usually, after sex, the two of you either dress in silence or roll over and go to sleep. You miss the feeling of being wanted, and you’ve got your fingers crossed that he’s not just playing his cards.

Eddie’s hand finds the small of your back to bring you closer.

“What are you thinking about?” He touches your forehead with his index finger.

You nibble at the inside of your cheek, before bravely making the leap to ask. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“That you’ll never stop needing me,” you swallow thickly.

Eddie’s fingers make patterns along your bare back. Eyes locked onto yours, he studies your face through the shadows of the arriving evening. All this time you’ve been away, you’ve been on his mind. If he knew what dorm you live in, he’d be there in a heart beat to keep you warm during these cooler months.

“I’ll never,” he folds your fingers in with his just so he can bring your hand to his mouth, and so he can kiss every knuckle on your hand, “stop needing you.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you lean in for a kiss.

Someone bashes a fist against the back door to the van, and you know your screwed. Red and blue lights flicker and flash outside the window.

"Shit!" You scramble to pat down your hair, and your skirt.

Eddie tucks himself into his pants, while muttering curses to himself.

“Police!” Jim Hopper’s voice is easily recognizable. “Come on, Munson. Don’t make me come in there.”

With a few run-ins with the law, and making a reputation as the “freak” of Hawkins High School, Eddie’s van became a staple around town. Even the police knew just about where ever he is at any time.

Tumbling over each other, you’re sure the guilt is written all over your faces. Nearly blinded by a flashlight to the face, you shield your eye away from Jim Hopper, who squints at you two. Clearly caught in the act of a wild youthful fantasy, Jim clicks off his flashlight and speaks to you both;

“I was on my way to your mom’s house,” he makes a point to stare you down, before continuing, “when I was radioed that there’s a suspicious van lingering off the side of the road. Care to explain?”

Not like there is much explaining to do. The story is pretty black and white, but that doesn’t discourage Eddie to come up with an aching bumble of lies.

“We were just on our way to the grocery store when we ran out of gas,” he began with your earlier plot. “We ran out of cranberry sauce.”

“Right,” Jim grunts. “I better give you a ride back.”

Walking back into the house to explain why you and Eddie disappeared has been mute to your ears. All of the funny faces from the younger kids, or the suspected glances from the older friends. God, you’d never hear the end of this from Robin. She’s been on your behind about fixing you up with Eddie for a while.

“You okay?” Eddie nudges you.

Jim says with his back turned, “Come on, kids. No use standing around a dead car. I’ll see what I can do about getting you back here with a gas can in the morning.”

“I’m fine,” you're embarrassed, but you're warm knowing where you stand with Eddie.

You’re crammed in the back of Jim’s Chevrolet with Eddie. Also stuffed between you two, is a sizable Tupperware full of mashed potatoes. El twists around in the front seat to let you know that she made them this year.

Bumps in the road weigh heavy against the beating inside your chest. You’re not speaking a language that Eddie totally understands, but he knows where your head is at. He touches your pinky with his sending a few jolts straight to your heart and your stomach flips. You continue to manage the Tupperware from tipping all over the seats.

The Sheriff spins the wheel to turn down your street. That empty spot Eddie left has Jim’s name written all over it.

Somehow the home has become busier than when you left earlier. Sounds of laughter bubble through the chill of the evening. The blinds are drawn, so you can see the Christmas tree in the living room lined with a calamity of decorations that have been collected over the years. Tinsel shines against the living room lamps draped across doorways, and the window frame. Your mom insists on putting the decorations up the day after Halloween.

You can almost hear Wayne’s boyish laughter that he’s never quite grown out of, while he tortures the young kids. He’s cornered Lucas and Max with a fake bushel of mistletoe in his hand. Max squirms when Lucas kisses her on the cheek, but later blushes while no one is looking.

The car tilts as the group climbs out and down onto the driveway. You’ll never understand the love for a lifted truck like this.

Despite wanting to be useful, El takes the mashed potatoes from you.

“I’ll be taking that!” She announces proudly.

With El and Jim both taking the lead, Eddie sneaks in to tug at your hand.

The front door swings open.

“Jim Hopper,” Wayne announces. “And- erm, Eddie?”

You poke your head around Jim’s back, and Wayne’s mouth draws agape.

“Their grocery store run ended on a flat tire, so I brought them back here,” Jim says.

“Thank you for rescuing them,” he replies. “Well, come in. Dinner is just about ready.”

Jim, El and yourself enter the home without too much inquiry from Wayne. But, you hear a thunk and Eddie’s protest, so you can imagine Wayne just knocked some sense into the back of Eddie’s head.

“You must be cold, darling,” Wayne snaps his finger. “I’ll bring you some hot chocolate. Go on and sit by the fire in the living room. Your friends have been waiting for you.”

Pinching Eddie on the ear, Wayne drags him away to the kitchen where you just know he’s getting scolded.

You bite the bullet, and find your friends in the living room surrounding the fireplace. Steve’s fought for and gotten the prime spot, so that his back is to the flame and he’s heating up in the knitted sweater that Nancy made for him.

Johnathan is still unhappy about the exchange by the way, even if she knitted him a pair of socks later. You can’t imagine a world where Johnathan and Steve might get along anyway. Nancy has false hopes.

“There you are!” Nancy worries like a mom who’s lost sight of her kids for more than five minutes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Really?” You plop down next to Robin on the couch, who’s got this grin that you beg won’t start talking.

“Won’t you enlighten us?” Robin bats her lashes.

Steve clears his throat. “Don’t think she’ll have too.”

“Warm up with this,” Eddie’s come from the kitchen with hot chocolate in hand. He hands it to you, and kisses the top of your head.

“Shut up!” Robin yells. “Really?”

“Really what?” Dustin pokes his head from around the corner before Eddie can snake his hands away from you. “Oh, damn.”

-> <-

tags: @ali-r3n

[koushirouizumi]

This A.M.V. is part of the “A.M.V.s Route” of my Digimon Adventures Koushiro Izumi-centric, semi canon compliant A.U.s series; REPEAT?_VERSE (Please note all notes on that series if you choose to view it!) This one is an A.U. spinoff of sorts, with a pretty, “calm” song; and can easily be watched as a standalone!

(For the Fic Route version, it can be read on AO3 at that link!) {Please consider checking out the fic version, which goes into much more context on their relationship!!}

Part 33 of the Fic Route version; a spinoff A.U. of A.U.s chapter, relates directly to this A.M.V., however the A.M.V. was made before that fic part! {It also contains many more contexts for this specific A.M.V. in fic form, however!!} (*Recommended to view AFTER finishing at least up to Part 24 of the Fic Route, but it can also be read as a standalone if you're all right with fic endgame spoilers!)

Note: Many more AMVs for this series have been made since this particular one, which was originally made to close out the "1st Phase"/Set of A.M.V.s! Please see this post, made later than this post was, for most of the rest of the AMVs currently in this series!

{D I G I M O N} x K a g e r o u P r o j e c t ~ S U M M E R T I M E R e c o r d (NEW Ver.) {Short Pre-view}

*Contains minimal Tri "spoiler" for "Kyousei" end sequence; "Aikotoba"

This is a FAN-WORK. No $$$ is being made off this work.

Summer Time Record (C) J I N

{@.M.V. by Me} {DO NOT RE-POST} {DO NOT COPY} {DO NOT RE-PRODUCE My Works Under any Circumstances WITHOUT MY PERMISSION}

Note: -This video’s embed may randomly not display at times, Showing like it’s “down”, but it’s not at this time! {It usually happens late at night[s] or seemingly when Tumblr and/or Vimeo is experiencing very high traffic} If that happens, please consider watching the Direct link here!

[navybrat817]

Navy's Beach Fun Nonsense

Summertime, lovelies! And almost August! As my birthday is in August, I wanted to celebrate by giving you a gift.

Similar to my Naughty & Nice Nonsense and Trick or Treat Nonsense, I plan to share various ficlets and one-shots throughout the month featuring some of our favorite fictional men. The fic will be revealed on the day I post and shared on my sideblog, @navybrat817-sideblog. It may be brand new or part of a current AU. It may be smutty, fluffy, dark, or a combination of things. It may be 500 words or over 2k. It may incorporate a summer theme or not. Who knows? It's nonsense! 😂

In fact, I'm calling it Navy's Beach Fun Nonsense! I'll be using that as a tag, so feel free to filter if you don't wish to see these fics. Main banner and divider by the lovely @sgt-seabass. Banner below by yours truly. Enjoy! 💙

Go for a Swim - Ficlets for the smut lovers! Feeling hot? Cool off and go for a swim. Lose the bathing suit while you're at it and get hot all over again.

🌊- 8/1 - Soak Up the Sun (Neighbor!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🌊 - 8/6 - Out of My Head (Chubby Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🌊 - 8/13 - On the Rocks (Bartender!Ari Levinson x Reader)

Toes in the Sand - Ficlets for the fluff lovers! The sun isn't the only thing making you feel warm and fuzzy. Dig your toes in the sand and enjoy the pleasant feel.

🌊 - 8/2 - His Favorite Person (Librarian!Ari Levinson x Reader)

🌊 - 8/7 - Sunrises and Sunsets (Ranch Hand!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

🌊 - 8/16 - Eye of the Beholder (Bodyguard!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Under the Boardwalk - Ficlets for the dark lovers! Did someone drag you under the boardwalk? Go ahead and scream. No one will hear you. Or help you.

🌊 - 8/3 - Love Isn't Enough (Jax Teller x Reader)

🌊 - 8/9 - Back to the Office (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

[alaskan-wallflower]

imagine post book the curtis boys take johnny to the beach one day. just the four of them. dally was in the cooler and two bit was probably wasting away in margaritaville or whatever and steve was at work so it’s just the four of them. johnny obviously isn’t the same after the church fire and he feels useless because he’s in a wheelchair now for life. but they still bring him.

pony LOVES reading on the beach. he’ll just sit there with his feet in the water with his little umbrella and sunglasses. he even reads out loud for johnny. johnny refuses to take his shirt off because he’s nervous about people 1. seeing his vitiligo and 2. people seeing his burn scars. so he keeps his shirt on. soda tries convincing the two to go in the water byt pony isn’t much of a fan of the ocean as opposed to reading. so him and johnny are just reading gone with the wind or great expectations for the billionth time while the sun sets.

soda is tanning. he’s the only curtis brother who can lmao-he’s getting flirted with left and right and he kinda flirts back but never means anything by it. He just wants to relax. He def brought all the snacks and brought way too many but the four are big eaters so they didn’t care. So he’s just sitting with a water bottle in one hand, a sandwich in the other, shirtless and with sunglasses on and he looks like fucking apollo himself. he loves the water and only convinces darry to go in with him and the two are absolutely being way too rough lmao-soda gets really tuckered out though and just passes out on his chair and has to be carried back to the car

darry is sleeping honestly. darry needs a break and he damn well deserves one. he loves showing off honestly. he’s got a nice build that he worked hard for, he has every right to show it off!! he probably gets mistook for pony, soda and johnny’s father and it bothers him endlessly. he just passes out as soon as they get there because he’s like a cat. you put him in the warm, he passes right out. Soda reapplies his sunscreen for him when he’s asleep and Dardy will be half asleep and will just mumble something about how nice the massages feel lmao-

in the end the four watch the sun set. they listen to pony ramble. they play in the water with soda (pony sits with johnny on the side since he can’t really/doesn’t want to go in, and they all make daddy know that they appreciate the outing.

i need more summertime fun headcanons with these sillies

[bettysupremacy]

i saw you say you’d do au’s soooooo

could I get soulmate!steve x reader where your soulmate has the same marking as you, and Steve remembers reader from their past life together but she doesn’t? Obv it’s okay if not🫶🏻🫶🏻

i luv steve harrington thank u for the request!!

Within the depths of darkness, a swirling web ensnares a clandestine crew of crooks and thieves. They slink through dimly lit corners, every move silent and calculated. With nimble feet and still hands, they lie and wait, anticipating the perfect moment to strike. They’re swift with their work, moving forward, and forward till..

It’s a stark contrast from where you lay, warm and baking on the courtyard lawn, the book of thieves blocking the glaring sun from your eyes. You’d come to people watch the frisbee players, the picnickers, and studiers. But now, you lie with a book, above a blanket that has baked under the summertime sun.

“Fuck,” you murmur, glancing around at your surrounding peers. Your book has cut you.

A drop of blood forms at the tip of your thumb, gathering into a tiny bead. Without thinking, you instinctively put it in your mouth and hastily wipe it off on your leg. The book falls into the grass, forgotten and unmarked as you close your eyes. The soft hum of your music as the wind blows over your bare arms and leg lulling you idly.

Who knows how long I've loved you; You know I love you still

You can't remember where you've heard the song before, but it continues to hum. It's a distant memory as the quiet guitar tune circles your mind.

Will I wait a lonely lifetime; If you want me to, I will

The Beatles.. yes The Beatles lull you into a halcyon state. You’re lethargic as you stretch your legs, pulling them back up to bend at the knees, feet flat on the ground to mirror your back. The Beatles are pretty vintage, you suppose, maybe it’s from a past life. Regardless, It’s a pretty song. Whoever showed it to you had taste.

The air shifts, the wind no longer hitting you cooly. It’s subtle, but you notice. The sun seems to dim, and your space now seems to be shared. Maybe someone’s lost their frisbee and it’s ended at your feet, maybe the clouds have taken the day back, or it’s someone asking about your book.

Do you look? Maybe you should look. You glance, just a peek really, and.. it’s a boy. A boy that stands in the way of the sun. A boy who seems to have a halo around his head as you lift your hand to shield your eyes. No, just the sun.

The boy is tall, nearly casting a shadow over you as he stands. His shoulders are broad, but his lean, pretty frame, catches your eye. You feel discombobulated as you stare, the heat of the day now disagreeable. You feel feverish. He’s warm and inviting, handsome in a boyish way.

“Hello?” He says again, no less kind from the first you didn’t hear, you’re sure.

You pull out an earbud, confused and curious.

“Hello,” you’re sure your voice betrays your uncertainty of this situation.

His nose scrunches at the earbud he didn’t see, embarrassed. He points to your shoulder, seemingly shy. Your mark glows blue brazenly against the warm evening sun. You poke at it, expecting the color to fade, to be a trick. A mirage your eyes, of your mind, you’re not sure.

You look around the courtyard hastily. Nobody’s mark is the same cerulean blue. There’s an athletic boy across the courtyard, mark purple and un-similarly shaped. Another sits on a blanket, mark pink, and resting on his cheekbone. Numerous students surround you; none shining as brightly blue you are.

“Have you seen-“

He drops his jacket. “We’re soulmates.”

You pause. That’s your mark for sure. It sits in the same place as yours, shifted by the muscle he’s grown in his boyhood.

“Are you sure it’s me?”

He laughs, not unkindly. “Who else would it be?”

You laugh, if only for his sake, wringing your fingers apprehensively. The cut on your thumb stings as your pointer finger brushes it. The boy notices, frowning and taking a step back as to give you air. You don’t want him to think you’re disappointed, the opposite really, but surely the universe hasn’t blessed you with someone this pretty. Pretty lips and cheeks, both tinged pink now. Strong cupids bow, and kind, kind, eyes. He looks familiar.

“I’m sorry for springing this-“ he begins, but you cut him off.

“I’m not sure how to respond.” You laugh anxiously. How do people respond? You’re sure you’ve dreamt this a thousand times, each time seeing the shadow of the boy in front of you. What did you say then?

Instead, he gives you his hand, helping you off the blanket your dorm mate had helped you fold into the tote that lays dormant at your feet.

“I understand.” His eyes are so honest, you wonder if he’s ever told a lie, fibbed, or misled.

“I’m embarrassed.” You laugh shyly, picking at the loose thread on your shorts. “If i’d known..”

He doesn’t say anything, desperate for the touch he hasn’t felt in this lifetime. Pulling you in, he startles you with familiarity. One hand immediately moves to the dip in your back while the other wraps securely around your shoulder. Slowly, you reciprocate his touch.

“I’m wearing..” he pauses, laughing a little into your hair. “pretentious dinner clothes.”

Your face presses into the fresh linen of his breezy button up shirt. It’s blue, and soft, and it smells of oranges and fabric softener. It is a bit pretentious. Do you have a boyfriend now? It seems like you have a boyfriend now.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair. “If I’m coming off as desperate, i’ve been missing you.”

He’s secure around you, tight but comforting, though your breathing is stressed as confusion grasps its arms around you. Squeezing in between you and the boy supposedly made for you.

“Missing me?” You ask.

“I remember it all,” he admits. “It all, Y/N.”

You pull away, the touch no longer desired, just like the summer sun. You know you’ve met this boy in different lifetimes, but you didn’t know he could remember. You didn’t know anyone could remember.

“I don’t,” you frown up at him. It aches his soul of generations. “I don’t remember, why don’t I remember?”

He shrugs assuringly. You were able to remember last time, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. “It’s okay.”

You tug your tank down self consciously, adjusting your summer shorts by the cinched waist. The blue and white striped fabric breezes against your thighs in the august wind.

“I want to remember, though.”

“I know,” he grabs your elbows, feeling the skin of your arms almost desperately, like he’s been waiting forever. “But I have you again, you’re real, you’re here, with me.”

Your mark burns warm blue, heating your shoulder. It glows against the boys face as he looks down curiously. The boy. You don’t even know his name, but you know he’s destined for you.

“What’s your name?”

His startled eyes upset you. You should remember this, they say, why don’t you remember this. “Steve.”

“What a short name.”

There’s a smile playing on his lips. “Steve Harrington.” He corrects.

“Does Steve Harrington have a middle name?”

“John,” he laughs, you’re so you. “My dads name.”

“John.” You test the syllable in your mouth. “Steve.”

“C’mere,” he gravels, tugging your arm gently.

Slowly, to his delight, you work your way into his arms again, chest aching with familiarity. There’s a crowd forming, the blue of your shoulder catching the many eyes of the college lawn. Blue only means one thing, and it’s a rarity to see it in person. You dig your face into his chest and he sways.

“People are looking.”

“Good,” he says halfheartedly. “I’ll tell you everything, spare no detail.”

“Ok,” you nod.

“You loved the 80s.”

You laugh weakly, yearning for the memories he contains in front of you like a shoebox. “I was around for the 80s?”

“Were you?” He laughs. “You thrived.”

You grin, pulling away from him. He roams your face, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He draws over the slope of your nose and the hills of your cheeks, drinking in the feeling of you so fully in front of him. This isn’t another one of his heart achingly evocative dreams.

His eyes darken for a moment as he watches the expressions cross your soft face.

“I really missed you.” He murmurs, solemn, almost.

“I missed you too.” You whisper, though more for the comfort of the shining boy in front of you, and he can recognize this.

A whine scratches his throat like a kicked puppy. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

You don’t know what he’s referring to. What memory he’s conjured in the wake of you, but you nod agreeably anyways.

“I promise.”

He leans down slowly, surely testing the waters. Internally, you panic.

You always thought it unreal when the soulmates frenched in movies. It felt rushed, insubstantial. He doesn’t now anyways, pressing a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth achingly. It’s soft, his lips are soft. You wonder if he can taste the balm you lazily applied while lounging in the sun that’s now dipped into the skyline. Pulling back, he smiles. Cherry in this life too.

“I know.”

- - - - -

[passivenovember]

(sharing again because I'm so proud of this one)

When Billy Falls in Love

--

Max's hair is twisted into a rough pink towel when she answers the door. She’s got a berry sorbet sunburn peeking through the angry red flush on her cheeks, freckles looking like they could peel off at any moment. It’s the same way Billy gets in the summertime, but he turns gold in seconds.

Max stays angry red. 

She wasn’t at the pool today. Steve knows because he was at the pool fifteen minutes ago, and Billy wasn’t there. And if Billy’s gone so is Max, and if Max is here-- 

“He’s not here. What’s with the flowers?” Max wonders, with her teeth pulling at the wrapper of a Scoops brand popsicle as she eyes the poorly picked and assembled bouquet of daisies and weeds Steve managed to convince the gardener to let him snag. 

Steve can tell she doesn’t really want to know what the deal is. Maybe she already knows. 

Max is fourteen and a perpetually bored pain in the ass, already moving to shut Steve out of the house when he jams his foot so the door won’t close. 

Max tugs on it. Groans. “Steve,” Max says, sounding tired.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know because we don’t keep tabs on each other, you psycho.”

“Bullshit,” Steve says. Neil’s car isn’t in the driveway, he almost points out.

Doesn’t.

Max almost cracks a smile, seeming to hear him anyway. If Neil’s gone that leaves Billy to play guard dog. “If you care so much about my stupid brother all of a sudden--”

“--All of a--”

“Get in your stupid shitty car and go drive around until you find him,” Max says, like. Get lost.

They’re so similar it burns. Chars licking over Steve’s skin in the shape of how they sneer and heckle the same, and they’re both so smart that Steve has to do math and study chemistry, and perform mental gymnastics just to keep up.

There’s a lot to latch on to, Steve’s hands slip over it like a gymnast missing the high bar. 

The way she’s looking at him, the way Max said all of a sudden like Steve’s done something wrong--

“He used to drive you around,” Steve says, like. Aha. “Don’t you give a shit?”

About him? 

About his bones and blood. 

Max shrugs. “Why should I?”

And. Steve’s an idiot but he remembers how it was before, back when this whole thing started. His lips, red and tender from sucking on any piece of Billy he could find. His fingers, tugging on worn belt loops and begging for a night on Loch Nora and that dull, exhausted phrase gotta watch my sister sinking a hole in Steve’s hope.

“It’s summer,” Max says after a minute, irritated, “We have an arrangement in the summer. June to Labor Day I do what I want, Billy fucks off for a bit, and we always show up here right when--”

“His car's gone,” Steve says. Because she owes it to him and his months and months of blue balls at her lack of self-preservation. She owes it to Billy.

“His car’s gone because he’s not here, Steve, we just went over this--” 

Max moves to slam the door and Steve holds it open, trying to ignore the hollow feeling that spreads through his stomach. “Why are you acting weird?” Steve demands.

“I’m not acting weird, you’re the one who’s trying to break into my house because Billy stepped out for five minutes,” Max tugs on the door, groaning dramatically, “C’mon Steve--”

Steve clutches the bouquet of flowers close to his chest. “We’re supposed to go see a movie.”

Max stops pulling on the door, all the attitude cut from her with something dull. 

Steve swallows. His nails dig into the palm of his free hand. Steve feels blood swell, but it’s probably just sweat. “Billy. He’s not on a date--”

“Look, Steve,” Max says suddenly, sounding. Much older and wiser than she did five seconds ago. “I like you. You’re cute and dumb but you’re annoyingly sweet and thoughtful. You’re tall, too. You’ve probably failed freshman biology a couple of times.--”

“--I--”

“Shut up,” Max tells him, and Steve swears there’s a bit of green swirling in all that red, embarrassment mixing like watercolor. “Can I be honest with you, Steve?”

Steve nods. He takes his foot from the door jam and rubs his hand on his jeans. Shudders as the feeling in his stomach ebbs and swirls and gets so much worse.

“You’re not his fucking boyfriend,” Max says, and slams the door in his face.

--

“Well. To be fair, she’s not wrong.”

Steve grips the steering wheel. The leather crackles and squeals with the skin of his palms, giving way to the rumble of the engine when he turns the car onto Park Avenue. 

“Jesus,” Eddie snaps, his free hand scrambling to brace against the passenger door while the bouquet teeters dangerously on his lap, “You don’t have to take the turns so fast, Harrington--”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“--Fucking Evel Kenevil--”

“I mean. I’m practically his boyfriend, right?”

“Sure, and you’ll still be ‘practically his boyfriend,’ even if you drive at the speed limit.”

“Thought you said Max wasn’t talking out of her ass, Munson?”

“Look, I’m allowed to take things minute by minute. I’m just saying,” Eddie tightens the seatbelt against his chest, “You haven’t exactly popped the question.”

“You think Billy’s the kind of guy who--”

“Yeah,” Eddie says casually. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who wants to be asked out. I’ve seen the way he picks flowers and puts them in his own hair when he thinks no one’s looking.”

Steve snorts. “When has he ever done that?”

“We hang out, you know,” Eddie tells him, in lieu of an answer. “When you’re not around, we hang out loads--”

“Maybe you’re Billy’s mystery man,” Steve says only half serious. Mostly joking. 

Eddie flushes deep red, “Anyway. This bag of weeds is a good start,” He mumbles, twisting the fat head of a dandelion gently between two fingers.

Steve doesn’t have it in him to unpack any of what that might mean.

They’ve been driving for what feels like hours. The sky has turned hazy, floating in that honey-dipped place between dayglow and starlight. The world will be gold, soon, and then dark. Midnight black. 

Hawkins is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it affair. A shithole. Billy only has a handful of places to hide.

Steve presses a little harder on the gas, knowing in the very pit of himself that this is crazy. This is insane, driving around like a bat out of hell with Eddie Munson, but Billy likes Eddie Munson. Steve tolerates him. And Robin’s at camp, so.

Eddie clutches the door again with another sharp, sudden turn. “Harrington--”

“I’m not dropping you off until I find him.”

“Alright,” Munson grumbles. He lights a cigarette and stares out the window for half a neighborhood block and then says, “How do you know he’s not at home, already?”

Steve grips the steering wheel, convinced Eddie wasn’t listening the first time. “Maxine said--”

“That was an hour ago.”

“Neil doesn’t get off until seven, if Billy’s gone he wont be back until six-thirty at the earliest.”

Eddie checks the dash. “It’s six-thirty now.”

“Do you wanna die today, freak?”

“God, you’re so unpleasant,” Eddie says, handing his cigarette over, anyway, “You’re the worst, actually. Worse than I ever imagined and I’ve imagined it a lot when Billy and Dustin yap their fucking gums about how great you are.”

Steve takes a harsh pull from the cigarette. Coughs and hands it back. 

Eddie takes it from him. Ash gathers on the cherry but he’s got no self-awareness. 

“If you get ash in my flowers, Munson--”

“Jesus Christ, would you give it a rest? He’s gonna love them. He’ll probably cry, once he’s done beating the shit out of you.”

Silence falls, lurid and uncomfortable, and Steve realizes Munson is watching him. Staring at him, 

“This is insane boyfriend behavior, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“So, you admit I’m his boyfriend?” Steve tries weakly, in lieu of what he means. Why Should I Take Advice from You?

“I’m saying this is boyfriend behavior but you won’t be a boyfriend for long, once he finds out what we’re doing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve grits his teeth. “What are we doing that’s so wrong, Munson?”

“Hunting him. Like a couple of crazy fucking bloodhounds.”

“We had a date,” Steve tells Eddie again. For the eightieth time. “Billy’s never missed a date so he’s either dead or dying or riding some other guy’s--”

Eddie bangs his head against the window.

Steve rolls the window down for him if only to protect the integrity of the Beemer. “Look, I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but I know Billy. And he wouldn’t just disappear without--”

“You’re not his dad,” Eddie tells him, and Steve.

Steve doesn’t have time to get into all the reasons that’s spot -fucking-on. He’s not Billy’s dad, because Steve loves Billy. To his bones and beyond, a little knob of heartache swirling around each nucleus of every atom in the very core of him.

Steve loves Billy so much it gets him into trouble.

Eddie sucks down his smoke again, like, “You’re really doing all this for a missed date?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m just saying,” Eddie shrugs, “I heard stories about you and the Wheeler chick. Seems like she missed a lot of dates at the end and you never did anything like this for her.”

“Billy’s not Nancy. Billy’s not like anyone, he’s--”

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, coughing. “You. You’re not just blowing smoke up my ass, you’re serious about him.”

And.

Munson says it like it’s a shock. 

Like Steve Harrington’s not capable of loving anything but himself. His hair and his house on the hill and this stupid fucking car and maybe that’s what the losers at Hawkins High think, but they’re wrong. 

Way wrong. Stuck four years in the past.

Steve has to bite down against every harsh word on the tip of his tongue, tear the sentences apart and swallow them down because of course he’s worried.

Steve’s worried all the time about a lot of things when it comes to this crush he’s been nursing for a year and a half. Steve worries if Billy sleeps enough, for one. If Neil was in a good mood today. How many new bruises Steve will have to cover with hickies the next time they see each other, paint all that hurt over with something good.

It makes him crazy.

Steve worries all the time if Billy loves him. If actually saying it makes a difference.

Steve wonders most of all how much money and begging it’ll take to get Billy out of that house on Cherry Lane. Steve’s spent many restless nights doing the math in his head, staring at the popcorn ceiling as he imagines taking Billy away from here. And if Steve’s taking Billy home, to the coast, then he’s taking Max, too.

So whatever number, whatever dollar amount Steve’s gotta hoard to make it happen--he’d better take it and multiply it by seven, because. Steve’s going to lasso the moon and give it to Billy in a bouquet of yellow daisies. 

If it kills him. 

He’s going to find Billy tonight and tell him the truth if it kills him--

“We’ve gone down this street, already,” Eddie says.

“You’re not helping.”

“I'm just pointing out the obvious.”

“And I’m just pointing out--”

“Look, if you care about Billy so much, why don’t you respect his privacy?” Eddie demands. Somewhere, along the way, he ashed his cigarette on the dashboard.

Steve wants to check the flowers. 

Can’t find it within himself to be angry about that. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. If something happened to him and I wasn’t there to make it better and figure out how to stop it from happening again--”

“God, you’re such a brownie,” Eddie snaps, turning from the window. “What if he ditched you because he’s not into you anymore, Harrington?  What if Billy got tired of waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass and stop obsessing over him where no one else can see it? What if he’s sick of being the plaything you fuck in the dark?”

Steve swallows. Feeling so, so small.

“Everyone says you’re a changed man,” Eddie gets closer, somehow. Looms. “What if Billy thinks you’re bullshit?”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road. In front of them, hazy with the dregs of the afternoon, a coal brown sign announces that Hawkins will soon be a spot on a map left somewhere far, far away. 

Everything in that shitty little town hangs over him. Feels so huge. Max and Neil and his parents and graduation and the last month of summer, sitting bigger than the sky. 

The engine thrums underneath them and Steve swallows, turning against his seatbelt. “If Billy doesn’t love me,” Steve says, easy and slow, “He can say it to my face.”

Eddie blinks. 

Steve can sense the cogs turning, underneath all that hair. Brown like his, curly like Billy’s. “It won’t change how you feel about him?” Eddie asks. 

And Steve realizes, like a punch to the gut, that Eddie Munson cares about this.

About Billy.

He’s worried, too, in his own twisted, guard-dog best friend kinda way. It reminds Steve of Robin. Dustin, too, always baring their teeth at Billy because they’re not fully convinced that this thing between them will survive the summer.

That Steve would survive losing this. 

He wishes, a deep ache thrumming in his chest, that everyone would either get it or fuck off.

“I love him,” Steve says easily, “Love isn’t something that stops just because the other person’s come to their fucking senses about how much of a loser you are. It isn’t something you say because you want to hear it back. I’ve loved him for a year and a half and I’ll love him even when he realizes I’m not half good enough.”

Eddie smirks. It’s slow and terrible.

“Alright, Harrington,” He leans back in his seat and nods, satisfied. “I think I know where our boy is hiding.”

--

Duane county used to house to the only mall within a hundred miles until Starcourt. 

It’s a small and bustling and annoyingly progressive city, compared to Hawkins, and Steve isn’t the least bit surprised that Billy would run to a place like this to hide for a while.

What surprises him is that Billy knows how to skateboard. 

He’s riding the half pipe, so focused on the concrete that laps like waves under the wheels of his long, colorful board that Billy doesn’t notice when the Beemer’s engine cuts and Steve opens the driver’s side door. 

Eddie doesn’t move. 

“You coming?” Steve asks, frowning when Eddie sparks something too pale and skinny to be a cigarette.

“Nah, you go ahead.”

“You don’t wanna give me your blessing?” Steve wonders, suddenly terrified that Billy won’t go steady with him if he doesn’t see the irritatingly awful face of his best friend giving the thumbs up. 

Eddie hands Steve the bouquet. It’s crushed and it smells like dope.

“Billy’s gonna take one look at these sorry fucking flowers and break up with me,” Steve grumbles, his nose scrunching, and.

Eddie smiles at him. 

It’s soft and real, and kind of beautiful, and Steve gets why Chrissy Cunningham is apparently head over heels for the guy. 

“He loves you, too,” Eddie says, like, “Go on. Quit stalling. Don’t think your big love confession will feel the same if I have told your hand through it.”

Steve slams the door, and Billy floats to the top of the half-pipe with the echo of it. He looks like an angel in the clouds, shirtless with his skin golden in the setting sun, jeans slung low on his hips. The curly, bronze tendrils of hair Steve will always remember the feel of are swooped back in a scrunchie.

Max’s scrunchie.

Billy squints across the parking lot and recognizes Steve, his expression clouding over immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He demands.

Steve waddles across the parking lot, “Eddie’s here,” He calls, like an idiot.

“So?” You fucking him now?”

“No, I--”

“What are you doing here, Harrington?”

Steve almost trips over himself, knees with with nerves. Billy does that to him, always. Forever.

The half-pipe is huge up close, looming like the mast of some ancient, terrible ship and Billy is the pirate waiting to throw him overboard. “We had a date,” Steve says.

Out of breath.

Weak.

“I had to get out of that house,” Billy shades his eyes with one hand, holding the long board aloft with his bare foot. He doesn’t say anything for a long, terrible moment and then he says, “Whatcha got there, pretty boy?” 

“Flowers,” Steve tells him.

“Flowers,” Billy mocks softly. There’s no bite.

He considers the moment. The Scene. Steve Harrington, with flowers clutched to his chest and the dingy little park beyond that and Eddie Munson, probably, hanging from a cloud of marijuana smoke as the afternoon crashes into nightfall.

As Steve crashes and burns.

Steve holds his breath. Billy glides down the half pipe, seeming to ride on the wind until he comes to a delicate, perfect stop in front of him. 

He smells like peaches. 

He’s been eating peaches. Billy’s hands are sticky when he grabs the bouquet, and Steve’s skin lights on fire from his touch. 

It’s so usual. It’s brand new every time.

“You bought me flowers?” Billy asks, pinning Steve with a clear, vibrant stare. 

His eyes are so blue. So beautiful--

“I didn’t buy them, I. I picked them,” Steve says dumbly, “The gardener was going to clear them away, but. I wanted to pick some for our date. I always pick you up on the way but I never bring anything, and I thought. Maybe Neil wouldn’t notice who they were for if it seemed like someone just picked them from a garden. Or the side of the road,” Billy snorts, and Steve nearly breaks an ankle trying to recover, “But I’ve thought about it, and they’re almost out of season, so the gardener--”

“--Right--”

“And. I see them every morning, from my bedroom window, and they remind me of you. Pretty and. Golden, so. I caught the gardener just in time, and i had to pay him $5 to let me pick ‘em before he cleared them away. They’re pretty. Right? I wanted--”

Billy sniffs the daisies first. His eyes close, lashes casting long, noir shadows over the cinnamon freckles on his cheeks and Steve aches to live forever in this moment. To scrape the image into his mind so it can live there, in a house made in Billy’s image. 

“Some of these are weeds,” Billy tells him.

“I--”

“Are you in love with me, Harrington?” Billy rubs the petals of one flower with his thumb, watching as the stems knock together. He’s holding the bouquet like it’s made of glass. Like it might shatter and crumble away if he’s not careful, and Steve.

Feels that way about Billy.

“I,” Steve tries again,

“Thanks for the flowers,” Billy says, and he turns to go.

“Wait,” Steve says. Begs. He almost reaches to stop Billy but he doesn’t want to hurt him. 

Billy stops. Waits. 

Something sharp and fragile sits there, just under the layer of indifference Steve was always too stupide to notice before, but.

“I love you,” Steve says. He sounds strangled. Drowning. 

It hurts.

It hurts and it really, really doesn’t when Billy flushes red. “I love you, too.”

And. 

Steve’s going to catch on fire at any moment. “You love me,” He repeats, testing the words. He doesn’t trust them to hold his hope. Doesn’t think Billy means it how Steve aches and dreams he does. “You love me, like. How you love Max? Or Eddie? Like a friend who you want to suck off sometimes--”

“Eddie and I are just friends,” Billy says, quickly. His gaze is steady on Steve’s face. “I don’t need anyone else for that, I have. You.”

He does. 

He really does.

Billy’s watching Steve like he’s expecting him to say something else, and maybe he is. Has been, for as long as they’ve been sliding inside of each other. Steve was just too dumb to get it before now. 

So he straightens his spine. Clears his throat. Says, “Well. I love you like I want to take you on dates. And introduce you to my parents. I want you to go steady with me and wear my letter--”

“We can’t do that sort of stuff, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Well, then, why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s what I want,” Steve snaps. Like,��“You’re so annoying.”

“It was your idea,” Billy smirks. It’s beautiful. It’s Steve’s second favorite thing, second only to his laugh. And the soft curve of his lips. Billy fiddles with one of the weeds and says, “You don’t even have a letter to give me.”

“Neither do you, asshole,”

“So now what?” Billy demands, his arms flaring wide, “You’re gonna say you want to go steady with me and we’re not gonna do it? Tease.”

Steve rolls his eyes to the heavens, grumbling as they plop wetly on the sun-warmed earth. Billy’s still barefoot and Steve wonders how his toes aren’t burning. “How are your toes not burning?” He demands.

“They are,” Billy tells him, annoyed.

And then. 

Steve gets an idea.

He sits on the ground and pulls both shoes off.

“What are you doing?” Billy snaps, but Steve can hear a smile in his voice, curling tendrils through the teasing annoyance that has made him so different from anyone Steve has ever loved before. “Steve--”

“Here,” Steve says, standing to hold the shoes out in front of him. He hops from one foot to the other as his heels start to burn.

Billy stares at the Nike’s as if they’re coiled snakes. Like if he takes them, they’ll burrow under his toenails and poison him from the inside out. “I don’t get it--”

“I don’t have a letter, but. People might see you in them and get it, right? When has anyone ever seen Billy Hargrove in a pair of Nike’s?”

Billy blinks, confused.

“You’re mine,” Steve says. “So they’re yours. Take them,”

Billy considers him for a long moment and then sets the bouquet on the ground. “Wait here,” He says, and skates off around the bend in the half pipe.

Steve’s feet are on fire.

He’s hopping dramatically, and in the distance he can hear Eddie laughing, and Steve’s going to kill him, but then.

Billy’s back and he’s holding his boots in his hands. “Here,” He says, “Eye for an eye, right?”

And Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. He slips into the worn leather, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable they are. His feet thank him, the raging fire finally simmering.

Steve watches Billy. 

The careful way his fingers lace the Nike’s onto his feet. How his hips shift his weight when he stands. Billy walks in a slow, timid circle, “Shit, Harrington,” He says thickly, “I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ve never had a boyfriend, before.”

“Think we’ll be any good at it?” Billy asks. He squats deeply, popping back up with a wide, beautiful smile planted pretty as a forest on his face.

It beams itself, magically, onto Steve’s. Startles a bright, hysterical laugh from somewhere deep inside of him. 

“You’re perfect,” Steve says. Nothing has ever felt more true.

[littlespacereader]

Nb reader had beginning to have accidents so Steve Rogers comeforts them and helped them clean up

Such an adorable concept! I haven’t written for Steve Rogers in such a long time so when I first tackled this I had a bit of writers block. Thankfully I reworked it a bit and I think it came out so cute!! I really hope you enjoy this! Thank you for the request!

Summer in Brooklyn☀️🍼

Caregiver! Steve Rogers & GN! Little Reader (SFW!)

Tags - Summertime fun, bathing suits & sprinklers, Bucky & Sam mentioned, accident, pull-ups, forehead kisses, cuddles and hugs

It’s a warm summer day in Brooklyn! Finally the weather matched the season and everyone on the block was outside having fun!

The same could be said for Steve and Y/N who played together in their small backyard. Steve sat on a lawn chair watching Y/N run up and down through the sprinkler Bucky had brought a day prior.

It has become an afternoon routine of Steve and Y/N’s to get changed into their bathing suits and play a little game of tag around the backyard while the sprinkler sprayed them.

Today was an especially hot day in their small backyard. To make sure his little one didn’t get a heat stroke, Steve made sure they had plenty of juice and some ice pops here and there to counteract the crazy temperatures.

As the day went on, he could see his little one start to get more and more tired. There was nothing like a nap after playing in the water all day.

“Alright Y/N, let’s head in.” Steve stood up.

“Nooooooooowwwwaaaa.” Y/N whined behind him as he turned off the hose to the sprinkler. They were currently sitting in a puddle, playing with their zoo animal figures, splashing then into the puddle below.

“We’ll play tomorrow I promise. It’s just getting late and I need to get started on some dinner.” Steve explained, without the added part of a nap. That would come later.

Y/N sighed but nodded their head as the stoop up and walked over to Steve. But there was just one problem…there were no towels outside.

“Huh? Guess Papa forgot the towels upstairs.” Steve said more to himself than Y/N.

Y/N was holding their arms close. Being out of the sun and soaking wet was making them start to shiver. “Cold Papa.” They said softly,

“Here,” Steve took his shirt off and placed it over their head. Because of his tall stature the shirt was almost like a dress on Y/N. “There you go.” Steve smiled, “That will keep you warm till I grab the towel.”

While it wasn’t the warmest, Y/N wrapped their arms around the shirt and smiled. They always loved when they got a piece of clothing from their Cg. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome sweetheart. Now let’s go inside and get some towels.” Hand in hand, Steve and Y/N stepped back into the house.

Steve wasn’t wet at all. After sitting in the sun he had dried out. Y/N on the other hand was still wet head to toe. Steve had Y/N stand on a mar by the back door.

“Here sweetheart, you stay here so we’re not tracking so much water through the house and I’ll run upstairs and grab some towels okay?”

Y/N smiled and nod their head yes. Steve smiled back, placing a small kiss to their head before heading to the stairs.

~~~

Only issue is…Y/N was still cold. They held their new shirt close to them and crossed their arms infront. Papa said he wasn’t going to be long, just grabbing towels.

But with the cold making them shiver slightly, another issue came to the surface…they needed to use the potty.

The bathroom on the first floor was on the opposite side of the house. Papa said to stay on the mat so they wouldn’t track water through the house but…how much longer was he going to be? They didn’t want to track water but they had to go potty badly.

Maybe Papa would be back soon, maybe they could hold it, they reasoned with themselves. But as the seconds ticked away. They could feel their grip slipping.

But just then they heard Papa coming down the stairs!

~~~

Steve walked down the stairs, clothes and towels in hand, “I’m sorry I took so long bug. I figured I get all of your supplies and clothes from upstairs so you wouldn’t have to-.”

Steve trailed off as his eyes met with Y/N’s form. Small trickle down their leg and a puddle beneath gave away their accident. They looked up at him with tears in their eyes. “Y-You said, no move.” They explained with a little sniffle and a tear falling from their eye.

This is the second time his little one has had an accident. The first was during a thunderstorm last week. One loud crash had Y/N running to Steve in wet pajamas.

At first Steve and even Y/N, thought it was a one off thing…until today. But Steve had already had a conversation with Y/N about this the first time it happened. Accidents were okay, and didn’t define them and their regression. He was more than willing to help his little one.

“Oh Y/N,” He walked over and brought them close, pulling them into a hug. “I am so sorry. This accident is my fault. I should’ve checked in with you earlier to see if you needed to go potty.”

Once they broke apart Steve picked his little one up, though they protested. “No! Icky!”

“It’s okay, Papa needs to get changed too. I don’t mind. Right now let’s worry about getting you changed.” Steve reassured. Y/N looked as though they were going to say something but settled for hiding their head in his shoulder.

Steve carried them into the bathroom, closing the door behind them and settle his little one down on the toilet cover.

As he organized everything a small sniffle came from the opposite end of the bathroom, “Papa i sworry.” Y/N said, tears falling from their eyes.

Steve immediately stopped what he was doing and went over to his little one. He places a soft hand on their shoulder, “Y/N what happened is nothing you need to apologize for. What did I tell you when you had your first accident last week?”

“Accidents are ‘kay.”

“That’s right. You know accidents are okay. This one is on me. I should’ve kept a better eye on your juice intake.” Steve sighed to himself. “But having an accident doesn’t mean anything bad. Sometimes our bodies just don’t realize what we need to do in time and that’s okay. Everyone’s body works differently.” He began to explain getting a small nod from Y/N.

“We’re going to clean you up, and get you into some comfy pajamas for the night. Then you can help Papa cook dinner. How does that sound?”

Y/N nodded, a small smile returning to their face. “Accident okay?” They asked one last time.

“Yes sweetheart, accidents are okay.” Steve smiled back. “Now, let’s get this little rascal dried off before you catch a cold.” That got Steve a small giggle from Y/N.

First he helped wash and dry his little one off. But before he went a step further he paused and turned to them for guidance. “Now I know this was just an accident, but do you want to wear some protection? It’s your choice bug. I won’t be mad if you say no.”

Steve watched as his little one stopped and thought long and hard about it. But after a moment they pointed to the pull-up then they put their thumb in their mouth.

“Good choice sweetheart.” Steve smiled. After that it was just getting them changed into a fresh pull-up and warm pajamas.

Once done, Steve also changed out of his wet clothes and into more comfier clothes for the evening. “There we are,” he said as he lifted Y/N into his arms. “All nice and dry.”

By now Y/N was loosing the battle to stay awake, the long but fun filled day catching up with them. Steve walked back into the living room, grabbing their pacifier off the end table and replacing their thumb with it. “There we go, much better.”

Y/N nodded snuggling closer to Steve. Steve knew that there was no way Y/N was going to let him put them down for a nap. But he did know they would fall asleep in his arms. The solution? Send a quick text to Sam and ask if he can pop over and help out dinner.

With the text sent, Steve walked over to the couch and plopped down onto it, Y/N still half asleep in his arms. He rubbed their back up and down as their head rested soundly in his shoulder.

Before they really drifted off he managed to hear them say, “Papa best.”

Steve chuckled, moving to place a small kiss to the top of their head, “I’m only the best because I have the best little in the whole wide world.”

Accidents will happen, floors and clothes can be cleaned, but what will stay forever is the trust and love between Steve and Y/N.

[littlexdeaths]

happy summer freaks!

below the cut are a list of some of my favorite works that i’ve read this summer, or ones that just give me summertime vibes.

this list is very long, and i am so sorry about that! these are all stranger things fics, but majority are eddie munson x reader.

he’s my favorite i can’t help it

all credit goes to these lovely writers 💕

one-shots/blurbs:

✧ orange peel skin by @hellfire--cult

rockstar eddie munson x best friend fem reader

✧ you and eddie attend a wedding together by @strangersmunsons

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ mutual pining by @thewayitalknj

best friend eddie munson x reader (idiots in love vibes)

✧ dark & stormy by @munson-blurbs

best friend eddie x fem reader

✧ warlock by @theold-ultraviolence

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ strapped in by @strangerstilinski

robin buckley x fem reader

✧ take a dip by @eiightysixbaby

lifeguard eddie munson x best friend fem reader

✧ sweet treat by @lokis-army-77

older eddie munson x fem reader

✧ start something by @mrsjellymunson

dm eddie munson x fem reader

✧ make me by @xxbimbobunnyxx

older diner owner eddie munson x fem reader

✧ arcade shenanigans by @lovebugism

eddie munson x reader (enemies to lovers vibes)

✧ body to flame by @stevenose

steve harrington x reader

✧ sundress lovin’ by @madelynraemunson

ex husband eddie munson x fem reader

✧ too close by @doomsdaybby

steve harrington x fem reader

✧ stop, in the name of love by @oneforthemunny

cop eddie munson x fem reader

✧ the pearl rosary by @fairyysoup

eddie munson x pastors daughter reader

✧ sweet girl by @thecreelhouse

steve harrington x reader

✧ you okay, honey? by @hawkinstales

eddie munson x fem reader

series:

✧ one step away from you by @eddiexmunsonlover

best friend eddie munson x plus size fem reader

✧ the do’s and don’ts of fake dating by @joequiinn

eddie munson x fem reader

✧ twenty four hours by @ghost-proofbaby

modern eddie munson x fem reader

✧ living after midnight by @munson-blurbs

failed rockstar eddie munson x motel worker reader

✧ too much in common by @munsonhoneybaby

eddie munson x henderson fem reader

✧ the more you give by @manicpixiedreamcurl

eddie munson x shy reader

✧ the third date by @rebelfell

eddie munson x anorgasmic reader

✧ cruel summer - ‘85 by @queenimmadolla

eddie munson x lifeguard (flayed) reader

✧ i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss by @andvys

steve harrington x fem reader x eddie munson

✧ boring! by @undead-supernova

eddie munson x confident fem reader

✧ i hate you, i love you by @loserboysandlithium

ex boyfriend eddie munson x fem reader

✧ show me by @eddiesxangel

older neighbor eddie munson x virgin reader

✧ not wholly evil by @uglypastels

pirate eddie munson x fem reader

[marsmad]

The coolest dudes 😎💖😎💖😎💖😎💖😎

📸 Steve Aoki on IG

[bratphilia]

OMG OMG. i’d die for anything that has william feeling bad amd disgusting, a percert, but not being able to contain himself around the reader ++++ some stress relieving from her if you know what i mean ;))

note ✧.*‎ i never thought i'd ever write william as a sub but i kinda dig it??? like i've said multiple times, his big no is if you're domming him and making him call you mommy, but fuck does he love it when you're on top.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ handjob, blowjob, dom!reader, sub!william

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity

synopsis ✧.*‎ your next door neighbor is stalking you, and you dig it.

creep (w. afton x reader)

william afton, or steve raglan, is stalking you. he's always been a stalker, to be honest. stalking his victims is natural; he wants to learn their routine, snuff out their patterns, their habits, so he knows when the right time is to strike. however, you're different. he's not watching you like he did the others — you're not one of his targets (well, not yet anyway) — you intrigue him.

in your backyard is a hot tub and it just so happens that your fences are built so low that he can see over yours with ease at his towering height. even more convenient, it's the summertime, meaning that hot tub gets more use around this time of year than any other season.

he spends most of his afternoons outside, mowing the lawn, tending to his garden, or barbecuing in the evening, just so that he can conveniently be outside the same time you utilize your hot tub. he wishes there was a silent way he could snap photos, but he already feels disgusting enough watching you all the time.

and that's the other thing, the guilt of it all. with his victims, he shamelessly watched them from afar, not having a care in the world — the only thing he was worried about then was getting caught. but with you, it's obviously different. she feels ashamed deep down inside. it rears its ugly head in the form of burning waves that wash over him that eventually translate into a pool of desire in his stomach. he could come in his pants just thinking about you catching him.

one evening, he hears you go outside, open the lid of the hot tub, and the ripples of water of you getting inside. lucky for him, he was watering the plants in his respective backyard before you got there, leaving him breathing room to just—

he can't help it! his height gives him the advantage of seeing over the fence. he greatly appreciates the view of you bathing, allowing him a side angle of your face and the tops of your breasts. god, he wish he thought to bring his camera with him, but this will do for now. he wants to burn this image inside his head so he can stroke himself to it later but—

you're getting out. already? already. he frowns, disappointed. he ducks his head as you walk over close to the fence to grab your towel that was laying on a bench and slip it over yourself. he pokes his head back up, hoping for a glimpse of your ass. you do something funny, though. you stop dead in your tracks and frankly, so does his heart. fuck. "mr. raglan," you say, back still turned to the fence. "why don't you come over?"

that's how it starts. he's laying on top of your bed with you laying on you sitting on your knees straddling him, his cock is in your hands. "how many times did you think about this?"

"s-so many times," he shivers at your touch. you're completely naked, having answered the door in your towel, then dropping it casually when he entered and closed the door behind him.

your thumb rubs over his tip. "you'd think any normal person would have just started with a 'hi, how's it going?' but you're not a normal person, are you, mr. raglan?"

he bites his lip to stifle a groan, but it only works about halfway. "n-not at all."

he doesn't know what he's saying and you grin at that. too easy. you pump him up and down and his hips buck at your touch. poor thing, you think. he's trying to muffle his noises but you stopm your movements and tell him, "i wanna hear all your pretty noises. want to hear how good it feels, 'kay?"

steve nods, eyes still fluttering open and closed. as you stroke him his groaning becomes more apparent. louder. and it's absolutely delicious. you move your hand faster just to elicit more noises from him and he gives them to you easily.

before he comes, and you can tell he's close because he's practically mewling, you put your mouth his cock and lick. immediately a hand snakes down to grasp desperately at your hair and you welcome it, but don't let it guide your movements. you suction his dick in your mouth and hollow out your cheeks, looking up at him with doe eyes and only encourages his impending orgasm and—

hot spurts of his ejaculate shoot into your mouth. you keep sucking him until he's done shooting into your mouth, but prolong your mouth's stay there to slowly tease his tip with your tongue, making him grunt at the overstimulation, before pulling off. "my turn."

[hendersister]

cruel summer

summary: steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: cruel summer by bananarama

It’s summertime. While most of your friends are spending the season outside and relaxing under the sun, you’re stuck working inside all day at Starcourt Mall. You got a job at Waldenbooks because you’re trying to save up money to buy a car. You’re about to enter your senior year at Hawkins High and you want to be able to drive yourself to school instead of bumming rides off of friends.

At least you’re not completely alone at the mall. Steve Harrington works at Scoops Ahoy, which isn’t too far from Waldenbooks. Sometimes when things are slow at the bookstore, you go down to the ice cream parlor to hang out with Steve. 

You became friends with Steve last fall around the same time that your little brother, Dustin, started bonding with him. But you think that working at the mall has really brought you and Steve closer together. Over the past few weeks, you two have been seeing each other on a daily basis. Steve’s face lights up every time he sees you walk into Scoops Ahoy and it always makes your day when Steve visits you at Waldenbooks. You and Steve genuinely enjoy spending time together. 

Whenever you’re both working late, Steve offers to give you a ride home. The last bus always leaves as soon as the mall closes and most of the time you need to stay later. Tonight is one of those nights. You’re working OT, re-organizing a bookshelf after some kids moved several titles around, and Steve has to stay late waiting for a shipment. The delivery driver is running way behind schedule.

By the time you finish work, the mall is closed. You go downstairs to Scoops Ahoy. Just as you arrive, you see Steve walking out of the ice cream parlor. 

“You ready to go?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

You watch him pull down the security gate and lock it. Then you two make your way to the exit. No one else is around and most of the lights are off except for the big neon signs outside of the stores. You love it when the mall is closed because it's so quiet and calm.

“You know, I think I prefer the mall like this,” you say.

“Me too,” Steve agrees.

You and Steve walk together across an almost empty parking lot until you reach his red BMW. He gets in the driver’s seat and you sit shotgun. You keep your eyes on the rearview mirror, watching Starcourt getting smaller and smaller as Steve drives away.

“I feel like I need to enjoy this time alone with you while I still can. Because when Dustin gets back from camp, you’re gonna want to spend all your time with him insead,” you joke.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s not true. I’ll still wanna hang out with you too...”

You look down at your lap, hoping Steve doesn’t see you blush.

“Truth is, hanging out with you these past few weeks has been the best part of my job. Scoops Ahoy totally sucks! The only reason I have this stupid job in the first place is because I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson. I make like $3 an hour slinging ice cream and I have no future…” Steve vents.

You shake your head.

“Don’t say that! You have a future,” you try.

“I just don’t want to be stuck in Hawkins forever…” Steve shrugs.

You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I get it… Honestly I think part of me wants a car so badly because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of Hawkins. That car is like my last ditch exit plan. I don’t want to be stuck here either,” you quietly admit.

Steve sighs, understanding. It’s comfortably quiet for a moment. And then-

“I forget about all that shit when I'm with you though…” Steve says.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear. Steve looks at you and sees you blushing. You couldn’t hide it from him this time. You shyly smile back him and then change the subject-

“You should lose the sailor’s hat. It’s hiding your best feature,” you suggest.

Steve nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I know! It completely screws up my game. But I have to wear it… company policy,” he complains.

You slowly reach towards Steve.

“Well you’re off the clock now-”

You take the hat off Steve's head and toss it in the back seat.

“Much better,” you smile.

Steve smiles back at you. You look into each other’s eyes. You both feel the electricity in this moment. After a beat, Steve turns his focus back to the road. The car is approaching your street.

“Ok so I’ll just turn right and take you home…. Or I could keep going straight and then we’ll just be driving around town for a while,” Steve tells you.

Steve is having a good time. He doesn’t want this night to end. And neither do you.

“Keep going straight,” you nod.

[superblysubpar]

📻 “It’s your summertime magic, make me feel this way. Got me boo’d up. Girl, oh, you’re my world - baby girl my whole world. You feel like summertime, you took this heart of mine.”

Hawkins, Indiana: 80 degrees and sunny all summer long - perfect for falling in love. With a newly renovated downtown, there’s plenty of opportunities for stolen kisses, loud arguments over miscommunication, and grossly public displays of affection.

You’ll be able to visit Holland’s - the new record store and coffee shop where Robin can tell you why your taste in music is a bit pedestrian but she’ll make you a mean latte while she does. I hear when the sun goes down, her drink making skills get even better.

If you’re looking for something a bit more active, Hawkins now has it’s very own roller rink. There’s this grumpy employee, Eddie, but he’s all bark with no bite - you’ll have fun…for awhile.

And then of course, no hot day is complete without a Summer blockbuster! Steve will make sure the PacMan machine doesn’t eat your coins and your cherry slurpee never reaches lower than halfway down the cup, and on Wednesdays, you can watch him interact with all of the kids for free movies in the park - try not to melt like the popsicles he’s handing out.

*Set during the same summer. While you’re the reader in all of them, these are three separate stories. All will contain smut and therefore 18+ get out of here minors!

Strawberry Lipstick State Of Mind

robin buckley x fem!bi! reader | hidden relationship | the vibes

Love The Way You Look At Me

eddie munson x fem!reader | grumpy x sunshine | the vibes

If You're Wondering If I Want You To, I Want You To

steve harrington x fem!reader | best friends to lovers | the vibes

the key things to note about the stories - the warnings

the soundtrack of summer

the full playlists for each story can be found on their individual masterlists

the vibes

[lovebillyhargrove]

The idea of Billy on a motorbike is golden and has been recurringly going around. I remember writing a fic about Steve picking up Billy from school on the motorbike that belongs to his dad but his dad never uses it, it's just kept in the garage (red BMW), and also

Young, free and on the bike (a wip)

Billy's driving his black air-ripping beast, Steve riding behind. It's summertime, they are just going for a little slow drive, no helmets, Hargrove promised to be very careful, not to cut corners. Billy's hair is blowing into Harrington's face, the sun is soft and kind, the breeze .. ahh the breeze is amazing, and Steve's sliding his hands up and down his boyfriend's firm chest and belly - he loves touching Billy so much it hurts, he literally hurts on the inside he's so balls deep in love - until his hand goes to the boy's crotch and

Oh lala someone is up and ready.

And Harrington is unapologetically horny for his boyfriend, they both are for each other, it's non-negotiable, so he slides his palm inside Billy's shorts

"Fuck, Steve!" The motorbike jerks but Hargrove's in control

"Shh, stay calm, baby. I just wanna get a little touch, wanna play a bit. You focus on the road."

Billy tries his hardest.

So it's either Steve makes him cum like that, right there on the bike or

Hargrove can't see where he's going, cause Harrington's deft fingers and his wide palm don't really let him see the road, the brain has completely stopped functioning, so he swerves onto a small dirt road and

They fuck in a honey-sweet summer field.