#myo4harrington

[authoressskr]

Because tetanus shots are always a fun part of any story 😂

Hmmm you know, I’m always down for that you’re in a new relationship, just been recently going out, and it’s that first time with a new partner. Can be awkward, can be fluffy, who knows? The world is your oyster. 😏🩷 also love you immensely

your brain is so big and i chose to make it funny. love you so much Luna!!!

3rd Times the Charm

ǁ summary: The 2 times you and Steve tried to have sex for the first time and the 1 time it actually happened.

ǁ tags: mentions of blood and injury (not graphic), mention of needles/stitches, fem!reader

ǁ word count: 1.5k

The first time you and Steve tried to ‘consummate’ your relationship did not go as intended. You’d planned it in advance – a nice dinner followed by a romantic and cheesy walk in the park. The ending was set for your place because you had a bigger bed and your roommate was supposed to be gone.

Key word: supposed to be.

The two of you had gotten distracted in the hallway. Steve had one hand on your hip, the other on your jaw, and was pressing you flat against the wall with his body as he sucked your lower lip into his mouth just to watch it pop back into place again. You both knew what the plan was and the anticipation to finally fuck your boyfriend of 3 months had been building the entire night.

If the denim erection pressing into your hip was any indicator, then Steve was just as excited as you were.

After some careful coaxing both by your breathless murmurs and your fingers twisting in his hair, you were able to convince him to let you go long enough for you to get your keys out and unlock the door. Although, you really only got halfway through doing so before he was pressing up against you from behind, wide palms settled on either hip, and his mouth teasing at the skin on the side of your neck.

The two of you stumbled into the apartment together, his arms wrapped tight around you as he used his foot to kick the door closed. It only took you another scarce few moments before he had you pressed against another wall, this time with your back still to his front, and his hands wandering from the fronts of your upper thighs all the way up to cupping them under your tits. Each graze of his warm palms lit you aflame, forehead pressed to the drywall as you closed your eyes and tried to regain some composure despite Steve intentionally trying to drive you into a frenzy.

That was when the two of you heard the first sob.

As it turns out, the one night you and Steve had planned to have sex for the first time ended up being the very same night your roommate got dumped. The two of you peeked around the corner into the living room, fully disheveled and panting, to the sight of her curled into a ball on the couch. She was completely inconsolable and the moment she saw you, she was begging for a hug and someone to talk to.

There was nothing you could do to weasel your way out of this situation to go try to hook up – not when she was crying face down in your lap with Kelly Clarkson playing on the loudspeaker. And Steve, absolute god tier boyfriend that he is, ran his fingers through your hair to settle it, pressed a kiss to your temple, and shared an understanding smile with you before asking your roommate what kind of ice cream she wanted from the convenience store on the corner. He returned no more than 15 minutes later with a spread fit for a heartbroken young adult and with multiple RedBox DVDs that the 3 of you watched into the night before you all fell asleep on the couch in a mountain of blankets and pillows.

The second time you and Steve tried to “consummate” your relationship went even worse. The idea of ‘Sex sent me to the ER’ is all fun and games until it happens to you.

It was very spur of the moment at a party – one of your mutual friends had planned this huge celebration at their parents fancy lake house. The two of you had gotten suited and lotioned up, drove the hour out of town to the lake house, and spent the entire afternoon roasting in the sun on jet skis and getting thrown off inner tubes behind a speedboat.

You’d had your eyes on Steve for hours and you were completely unapologetic about it. He had on a pair of navy swim trunks, a white linen shirt that was fully unbuttoned to show off his chest hair and golden skin, a pair of aviators perched on his nose, and his hair sunkissed and windblown. He’d taken over driving the speedboat with a beer in his hand and the steering wheel in the other, gunning it across the lake and throwing people off their rafts into the water with absolute joy and taunting yells across the wide open spaces. It looked like he was born for this, like this was him in his element, and you had actually never been more attracted to him than you were under that May sunshine.

When the sun set, a bonfire was lit and the speakers came out. Snacks and drinks, alcohol and non, were flowing steadily as people alternated between sitting by the fire and talking, pushing each other into the lake or the pool, and a few people had even started dancing down by the water. You were all sunburnt and lazy with the first heat of the summer, heavy and slow with relaxation and joy. And honestly… Horny as hell.

The two of you had stumbled into a shed on the property with greedy hands on warm skin and in slowly drying hair. His mouth was ravenous as it trailed from your own to the salty skin of your neck and down to suck bruises into the sensitive skin on your chest. He’d pulled back after a few minutes, chest heaving beneath his open shirt and pupils blown wide as he looked you over. Told you he wanted you more than anything but was worried about your first time being in a fucking shed. You, completely drunk on him and not caring about anything else, informed him you didn’t give a damn and you needed him inside you like yesterday.

The grin that lit up his face was brighter than the summer sun of the day.

It was all blooming feelings and barely contained moans until he knelt down to give you some well overdue attention between your thighs. He had trailed kisses down your stomach as he dropped down without looking and you heard him suddenly hiss out through his teeth at the same time something shifted beside you and he fell away. Still slightly dazed, it took you a few moments too long to realize he had fallen onto his ass and was gently cradling his shin because it was now quickly pouring blood.

He’d knelt down and slice his calf on a gardening tool in the shed. A blade that, after pulling out a flashlight, you confirmed was covered in rust.

The two of you spent the next 4.5 hours in the emergency room – earning Steve a tetanus shot and 2 others as well as 10 stitches and a prescription for antibiotics. As soon as you both confirmed that he wasn’t going to lose his leg or something, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sun and fun had lightened your minds and made something like having to go to the ER because Steve tried to eat you out in a shed feel like a story to tell, and nothing worse than that.

While it probably could have happened sooner, you and Steve finally got your moment the day after Steve’s stitches were removed. He’d shown up to your apartment early on a Saturday with a packet of baked goods for breakfast and a cup of your favorite from the corner store. All completely unprompted and he insisted it was just because he wanted to do something nice for you after your week at work.

The two of you had a slow and comfortable breakfast on your balcony as the morning sun rose higher in the sky. The moment you were both finished eating, you’d wasted no time in climbing into his lap and making up for lost time.

It was slow and thorough; each of you taking your sweet time in learning what made the other tick and shiver. It was hours between your sheets in the late hours of the morning with all the time in the world to explore each other.

While it was well worth the wait, you certainly had a lot of time to make up for.

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[myosotisa]

Steve Harrington x Reader

Multi-Part:

Try Again - discontinued, tumblr, hurt/comfort, fluff, healing moments, tw: discussions of past sexual assault

*TRATH is The Rabbit and the Hair, a series on AO3

Am I Alive? - completed, ao3, TRATH part 1, hurt/comfort

Warm Ways - completed, ao3, TRATH part 2, fluff

Who's Gonna Carry You Home? - completed, ao3, TRATH part 3, fluff (Steve's POV)

Breathe, Desperately - completed, ao3, TRATH part 4, season 3 rewrite, tw: blood, canon-typical violence

Ask for More - completed, ao3, TRATH part 5, hurt/comfort and smut

Scar Tissue - completed, ao3, TRATH part 6, angst

Ride the Air - completed, ao3, TRATH part 7, hurt/comfort

When Judgement Calls - On Hiatus, ao3, TRATH part 8, season 4 rewrite, tw: blood, canon-typical violence, heavy themes

One-Shot:

Silk and Honey - WIP, tumblr/ao3, smut, dom/sub aspects, soft dom!Steve with discussions of subspace

deep end - completed, angst, discussions of trauma and traumatic flashbacks, post season 4, everyone lives

Take a Seat: Extended Edition - completed, smut, mean King Steve, filthy smut

Sex, Love, and Other Crazy Ideas - completed, smut, kinda dark!Steve, possessive and obsessive but so loving

Car Madness - completed, tumblr, smut, giving Steve roadhead

Dial Drunk - completed, tumblr, angst, hurt very little comfort, tw: major character death, grief, etc

falling down - completed, tumblr, hurt/comfort, depictions of an anxiety/panic attack and comforting thereafter

there are bones in my closet - completed, tumblr, hurt/comfort, tw: discussions of anxiety, ptsd, and trauma post season 4 vol 2

Flip the Switch - completed, tumblr/ao3, smut, breeding kink

ceilings - completed, tumblr, angst, hurt no comfort, tw: cheating/infidelity, dubcon

Blurbs:

Vault Dweller!Steve - Fallout AU

Take a Seat (smutty King Steve blurb)

Steve taking care of you when you're sick

Steve vs Shy Cat

Running Late (Comforting Steve from an anxiety attack)

New and Different (Jealous!Reader with Scoops Steve)

3rd Times the Charm (The 3 times you and Steve tried to have your first time together)

Two Types of Hugs

When Steve Harrington Died

[toomanyacorns]

@myosotisa consider this a warning and a promise

Take a Seat: Extended Edition - s.h.

ǁ  summary: What exactly did you think was going to happen when you let King Steve into your bedroom? (Now with full smut!)

ǁ  tags:��smut. not plot just dirt. mean!dom Steve with demeaning praise, pinching, dirty talk, fingering f receiving, implied size kink (i know his dick is big), protected p in v, spanking. dubcon photo taken at the end. afab!reader, no y/n, nicknames are sweetheart, baby, good girl, dirty slut. King Steve is the King Tease. not a happy ending but not a bad ending? about what you'd expect, really.

ǁ  a/n: the girlies ask and i answer. tagged everyone who interacted with the first blurb at the bottom. the first 900 words are the same. i just finished it and i'll betaread/edit in the morning. never ask me for anything ever again /s

ǁ  word count: 4k

"Hey sweetheart?"

You barely look up from where you're pouring over the textbook on your desk. "Hmm?"

There's a small shuffle from your friend Steve adjusting on your bed, most likely to face you. "Can I ask you something?"

Glancing back at him with your eyebrows drawn together, you catch a glimpse of his impish smile that he's attempted to make look sweet before you return to your book. "Sure?"

"Can I fuck you into your mattress?"

The world spins from how fast you twist toward him, hand gripping the back of your chair tightly as all the blood rushes to your head. "Excuse me?!"

A lazy smile tilts his mouth, eyes shining with mischief as he repeats with slow pauses for effect, "Can I… fuck you… into your mattress?"

Your jaw drops, mouth opening and closing like a fish as you struggle to force out words. "I heard you the first time, I was just giving you a chance to say something else."

"Come on," he leans back onto his palms, thighs spreading with his socks firmly on the floor. The traitorous part of your brain he's awakened looks at the space between his thighs, at the empty seat of his denim covered lap and thinks that's a perfect spot for me. "Like you've never thought about it?"

"I…" Eyes drying from staring at him in shock, you manually force a few blinks as you swallow hard. "This feels like a trick question."

"I bet you have," he says in a sigh, adjusting on the bed with what seems like a very intentional thrust of his hips upward. He adjusts to hold most of his weight on one hand, the other making a little walk up toward where your blanket meets your pillow. "I bet you've laid right here on these sheets… Hand tucked into your pretty little panties and whimpered my name."

The visual has your gut twisting, warmth spreading from between your thighs and outwards. Your face is burning hot as your eyes flick from his hand to his face to his lap and back again. "I don't – I don't understand what's happening right now."

Steve has never, ever shown any interest in you. While you've only been friends for a little while, he was known for his conquests around school. Everyone knew how they went. When he approached you, entirely friendly, asking for a study partner, you'd known it didn't fit his pattern. This wasn't how he came onto the other girls at school.

"What's not to get?" He asks teasingly, the tips of his thick fingers hooking on the top of your blanket just to shift it down a few inches. "It'd be fun."

And while the visual part of your brain talks directly to the throb of feeling in your clit explaining just how fun it would be, your thinking brain is still fighting tooth and nail against something you hadn't considered a possibility anymore.

"Why are you doing this, Steve?" I'm not your type, your mind tacks on. This feels like some kind of cruel joke, it warns.

"Because, baby," he's shifting again, upper body pressing forward as he rests either palm on his spread knees, "I like to play with my food before I eat it."

Brain coming to a grinding halt from its anxious frenzy, all that remains is a cycling repeat of his statement and the reactionary shiver it sent down your spine. “Your… food?” 

This seems to make him huff a laugh, shaking his head. For such a smart girl, it made his dick twitch in his pants at how easy it is to throw you off balance, how quick you're going dumb for him. “Yes, sweetheart. Now are you going to let me keep playing? Or should I leave you alone with that wet spot that’s already on your panties?”

Your head ducks down in alarm, thinking you’re exposed to him in some way, only to see your pants still perfectly in place. When you look back up to retort, the cheeky grin on his face informs you that your reaction told him everything he needed to know. “You! I’m not!”

Taking a deep breath, shoulders rising and then falling lower than they were before as you try to release some of the sudden tension in your body. "How would we even...?"

The sudden shyness, your nervous hesitation, makes his cock throb again, one of his hands instinctively pressing down on the growing tent in his tight jeans. It nearly makes him groan at how heavily your eyes track the movement before quickly looking away with an almost inaudible squeak. “Don’t worry your big brain about it. Just come over here and let me show you.”

The way you stare at him for just a little too long, looking like a deer in headlights, makes him think maybe he came about this the wrong way. Maybe you’ll bolt like a scared rabbit. But then you silently push yourself to stand and take a few hesitant steps toward him, not quite entering the space between his spread thighs.

That Harrington charm comes through his encouraging smile, his voice a cooing murmur when he says, “Good girl.” Your thighs press together subconsciously and he delights in the new reaction. “Now take a seat,” he insists with a pat to the inside of one of his thighs. “I’ve got a spot right here with your name on it.”

It is with less grace than you had hoped when you bring your knees to either side of his hips, sitting down closer to his knees and lightly placing your hands on his shoulders. Keeping a small distance between your chests, a bit of safety. He tsks softly, tongue clicking behind his teeth as he shakes his head like he's disappointed.

Burning hot palms land on your waist and yank you forward without warning – pulling you flush against him, tits to chest and the continuously hardening bump in his lap pressing against you. You gasp at the sudden movement and the press of something solid between your legs, hands turning to a death grip on his shoulders. "There, now that's better. Isn't that better?"

The way he asks is condescending and you hate that it just makes you wetter. Feeling like your tongue is caught in your mouth, you answer with a nod. His eyes narrow slightly right before he gives you a sharp pinch on your side, other hand holding you in place when you instinctually try to jerk away from it. "Words, sweetheart. Need to hear you."

"Yes!" The answer comes out embarrassingly quickly, making your face grow even hotter and his grin grow even bigger. "Yes, that's better."

"Good," his voice drops in pitch as his hands skate down from your waist to your knees, just to start to slowly drag up your covered thighs. What I wouldn't give to be in a skirt right now. "Where was I?" Fingers press firmly into your thighs, a shiver rocking you as your thighs try to twitch together, unable to in his lap. 

"Oh, right," if you didn't know any better, you'd say his smile is malicious. "I was playing with my new toy."

New toy. Another shudder rolls down your spine as your clit starts to throb between your legs. You shouldn't be turned on by this, you should be telling him off, kicking him out. But it's like his eyes and words have you hypnotized – completely pliable in his big hands. Ready and wanting to do whatever he might ask of you.

And he knows it too. Is relishing in it, even. How he lets his tongue sneak out to lick at his lower lip and then you're staring at his mouth, not even aware of it. How your eyes are wide as saucers when he starts to lean in, closer and closer, until the tip of his strong nose nudges yours.

Your breath catches in your chest, holding and holding as you wait, eyes begging. He just smiles again, eyelids heavy as he nudges your nose one more time with his before veering off without warning and pressing his plush lips to your jaw. Once, twice, and down until he reaches the spot below your ear and nips with his teeth to hear you gasp again.

Just like the other girls told you. King Steve doesn't kiss on the mouth.

"So sensitive, baby." He parts his lips in a wet kiss along your jugular, sucking softly before pulling off – blowing cool air across the wet skin to make you tremble on his lap again. "Anybody ever touch you like this?"

"O–once or twice," you reply as you tip your chin up and to the left to give him more space to work with. He hums in approval and gives you a few more kisses and nips in reward.

You hadn't even realized your hips had started a slow roll to rub your cunt along the zipper of his jeans until his hands grip your hips to pull you down harder. A small moan tumbles out of you before you can stop it and he huffs a laugh against your skin.

"Now that's just precious." Blood parts in the middle – half rushing up to your face and the other half sinking down to the increasingly present throbbing below. He presses your hips down at the same time his twitch up, the hard length of him beneath denim catching on your clit deliciously, triggering another embarrassing noise from you. "Fuck, sweetheart. I bet I could make you cum just like this."

It is with great shame you admit to yourself that he probably could.

"But I made you a promise, didn't I?" He pulls back so he can see your dilated pupils. "What was it again?" He pretends to think while encouraging you in your drag against him, making it hard for you to answer.

"You… you asked if you could fuck me," you inhale a sharp breath at a particularly good nudge against your clit. "Into my mattress."

"That's right, good girl." A whimper sounds behind your closed lips and his face gets even more smug. "I don't remember you giving me an answer to that question, sweetheart."

"Is, uh… is me climbing into your lap not answer enough?"

Another mean pinch, to your outer thigh this time. "Don't get smart. Ask me nicely or I'll leave you wet and empty right now."

"No!" It comes out a bit panicked, not putting it past him to do just that. "Please don't go."

He hums again, a placated noise, and goes back to manipulating the flesh of your thighs while he looks at you expectantly.

"Will you…" It feels like acid on your tongue but you're growing more desperate by the minute. "Will you please fuck me?"

"Aww," he coos, smiling syrupy sweet. "That's cute, but I think you can do better than that."

Bastard.

More acid burns your throat as you swallow what remains of your pride, squeezing your eyes closed tight for a few moments as you prepare yourself. “Steve,” it comes out with a little bit of a whine, eyes opening wide and wet to look into his. “Please, will you… Will you fuck me? Want you so bad – want you to stretch me out, please.”

A sound rumbles in his chest that sounds somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hands tightening to an almost uncomfortable stretch on your thighs. “Still could be better, but I’m feeling in a giving mood.” A sharp tap to the side of your ass makes you squeak in surprise, “Up, up. On your feet.”

You do as he asks without question, climbing off his lap and back to the mercy of your nervous knees. “Strip down, then hands and knees on the bed.”

“What?!” Your arms come up to cross over your chest, already feeling exposed just by the order.

He’s already pulling his shirt off, giving you an eyefull of his wide shoulders and chest as he tosses it back towards your desk. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart. You won’t like the consequences.”

So you rapidly strip off your clothes, leaving them in a pile on the ground below you until you’re naked as the day you were born, weight shifting from one foot to the other in an attempt to calm your nerves.

Steve’s jeans and underwear hit his ankles – long, thick cock bobbing free, heavy enough to hang down even with how hard he is. He wraps his fist around the base, only making the size of it only seem more intimidating, and strokes it lazily when he catches you looking. Sounding annoyed and tipping his head toward your bed, he says, “Knees, bed, go.”

Scrambling onto the bed to his amusement, you perch yourself on your hands and knees, ass facing him with your hot, wet pussy on full display. “Now that’s a pretty picture,” his voice is low again, almost pleased as the bed dips behind you with his weight. You keep your eyes forward on your pillows, so much blood rushing to your face that it’s making you dizzy. A firm hand grips your hip at the same time a pair of fingers parts your lips – a strangled and surprised moan leaving you as you try to jerk away from the sudden stimulation, his hold on your hip keeping you against his fingers. “Surprised, baby? What, did you think I wasn’t going to touch you?”

His amused mocking has you burning with embarrassment, the fact that you can feel each cruel word directly in your clit only making you hotter. “N–no, I was hoping you w–would.”

“Hoping? Oh, you poor thing,” he coos again, thick fingers skating up and down your slit, just barely brushing your clit on each pass. “You have no idea what you’re in for, do you?”

And he pushes his middle finger inside you without warning, pressing into the knuckle as you squeak out and tense up. “Nuh-uh, gotta relax,” his hand leaves your hip to tap at your presented ass again. “Your only job right now is to sit there and take what I give you, understand?”

You nod with a whimper caught in your throat, allowing your head to hang down. Another sharp pinch on the stretch of skin between your ass and thigh, hard enough on a sensitive place to make you cry out. “I said, do you understand?”

“Yes! Yes, I u–understand. All I do is…” Something between a sigh and a moan interrupts you as he starts to drag his finger in and out of your tight heat. “Take what you give me.”

“Mmm, good girl. Gotta stretch you out. So tight, I think my cock might rip you right in half, sweetheart.”

I wish you would, the traitorous part of your brain supplies.

Steve takes his time – paying very little attention to your needy clit as he adds a second finger and then a third. Withdrawing slightly whenever you press back for more, making sure you know that he is the one setting the pace and you do not get to change that. Three fingers knuckle deep in your tight hole is a stretch, bordering on painful, but it quickly turns to pleasure when he starts to hook his fingers down to rub against the spot inside you that has your toes curling and noises pouring out of you.

“Is this what you thought about, baby?” His voice pulls you out of it again, brain struggling to catch up and understand what he’s asking. “When you touched your pretty pussy and thought of me? Did you picture it like this?” Right now, you can’t remember, but you can’t imagine this being your fantasy, so you shake your head, thighs starting to tremble slightly. “No, course not. Sweet thing like you probably dreamed about doing it missionary – looking into each other's eyes.” His thumb finally makes contact with your clit, your back arching and voice rising in pitch as you moan. “That what you want? Want me to make love to you?”

“N–no,” you start, struggling to get the words out over the way your body starts to tense, wanting to cum more than anything. “Wanted… Wanted you to fuck me, use me.”

A moan leaves him this time, shifting forward to grind his throbbing cock against your ass. “Really? You want to be my fucktoy, sweetheart? A little warm, wet fleshlight for my cock?”

The pressure in you mounts, higher and higher, almost there as you cry out, “Yes! Yes, want that, please!”

“Jesus Christ,” his fingers promptly leave you, taking you off the edge with them so abruptly it has tears coming to your eyes as you whimper. You look back at him for the first time since you mounted the bed, eyebrows tipped up in pained pleasure, as you try to figure out why he stopped.

He’s propped on his knees behind you, hair ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it, eyes trained between your legs as he rolls a condom onto his painfully red cock. Feeling a burst of confidence, you lower down onto your elbows, arching your back further and presenting yourself to him more. He groans like you’re hurting him, eyes widening as he looks from your face to your swollen pussy.

“Keep doing shit like that,” he laughs out, nudging your knees further apart as he starts to run the tip of cock through your folds, “and I might have to keep you.”

Keep you, keep you, keep you, plays on a loop inside your head as he presses inside, muscles protesting against the size of him even after all the time spent stretching you out. He presses about a quarter of the way in before pausing, muttering a, “Shit,” under his breath as he paws at the curve of your ass. You try to breathe through the ache, focusing on the way he grips your flesh and not at how his cock feels like it’s tearing you up from the inside.

In a slow roll, he pulls out an inch and presses in two, being nicer and more deliberate with feeding you his length than you anticipated. You can feel your own slick pushing out of you each time he shifts out, making a sticky mess of your inner thighs and the curly hair at the base of his cock. When he bottoms out, he pulls back a touch and pushes back in hard, another high pitched noise leaving your parted lips when he just stays there.

“You–you’re so deep, Steve, fuck…”

He laughs breathlessly, squeezing at your flesh harder. “And you’ve got a perfect pussy, baby. So tight and wet and taking me so well.” His hips grind against yours, a dirty roll that has his cock adjusting to sit even deeper. “Letting me rearrange your guts like a good girl.”

Your shame is long gone now, eyebrows tipping up in pleasure as you fist your fingers in the sheets and cry back, “Wanna be good, wanna be your good girl, Steve.”

His cock jumps inside you, making both of you groan, and he grips both of your hips hard when he starts to pull out again before thrusting back in. You don’t stay surprised by his slow start for long, his pace rapidly increasing in strength and speed by the second until his forcing your ass back against his hips with a dirty slap of skin on skin.

“This better?” He asks, breathless as he pounds into you over and over. “This what you wanted?”

“Yeah! Yes, yes,” you babble, fists twisting up in the sheets as your muscles start to tense up again. “So good, so, so good.”

A sharp smack hits your ass, another cry leaving your throat as you clench down around him. “Oh fuck,” he groans, “you like that shit too?” You nod, hair mussing against the sheets as you press your ass back like you’re asking for more. “I thought you were such a good girl, a sweet girl,” he coos. “Thought I was gonna corrupt you.” He laughs out, slapping your ass hard again as your moan. “But here you are, begging to be my fleshlight and gushing around my cock when I spank you. That good girl act was to hide that you’re just a dirty little slut, huh?”

You’re lost in it, pressure mounting again as you start to inch closer and closer to your previously ruined orgasm. He smacks you again, harder this time, as he repeats, “Come on, can’t be that dumb on my cock yet, answer me.”

“Yes! I’m a dirty slut, just for you, just for your cock.”

He moans, louder than he has so far, and one of his hands comes forward to your shoulders, pushing you down further into the mattress. You drop, tits and cheek pressed to the sheets as he starts to pick up his pace again. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

You whimper again, cunt clenching down as your mouth hangs open. “Please, please, want you to cum, want to cum with you, please!”

“Yeah?” He leans further over you, happy trail rubbing against your lower back as he wraps his arm around to inch toward your clit underneath. “You gonna be a good girl and milk my cock?”

His fingertips are just too far, so close but still not there, and you’re so desperate, you’re begging, “Please, pleaseplease, gonna milk your cock, want every drop, please just let me cum.”

He laughs again, voice going hoarse, as he finally makes contact with your clit. He collects some of the slick that continues to coat you both and uses it to start making sharp and dirty figure 8’s across your throbbing clit. “Come on then, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

And it’s like your body responds directly to his command – back bowing and all your muscles clenching down as the pressure in your hips releases, hot white endorphins flooding your system as you moan and thank him and tremble beneath him. He’s not far behind, the hot grip of your cunt getting even tighter sending him over the edge as he jerkily fucks into you a few more times, ropes of cum emptying into the end of the condom and soaking the head of his cock in warmth.

You’re still panting and trembling when he pulls out of you with a groan, a whine leaving your throat at the sudden emptiness while your knees slide out from under you to lay flat against the bed. Limp against the sheets, sweaty and boneless, completely blissed out to the point you don’t even know or care what Steve is doing.

A sudden flash brings you back to reality, pushing up on your palms and whipping your head around to see Steve, fully dressed again, and holding a polaroid camera in his hands that is now slowly printing out a picture. You feel all the blood rushing to your face again, legs pressing together stickily as you come back into how exposed you currently are. “Did you just…?”

“A little souvenir,” he promises with a smirk, pulling it out of the camera and looking over the slowly developing photograph. Where did he even get the camera? “Just for me, no one will know.”

Fucked dumb and still trying to recover, you just nod, turning over slightly and pulling your blanket with you cover yourself slightly. You watch as he slips the polaroid into his back pocket and steps over to pluck your underwear out of your discarded jeans, tucking that into his pocket too. “Thanks for a good time, sweetheart. Much better than I thought.”

Your mouth opens to ask but closes quickly. King Steve has always been a one and done guy, but he said… he might keep you. Will he actually?

Before you can decide whether you want to ask or not, he flashes you a sharp grin and says, “I’ll make sure to let you know if I’m ever in need of a fleshlight to play with.” A pointed glance up and down your barely covered form and then he winks, wiggling his fingers in a little wave and leaving you alone in your room.

Your ever traitorous brain hopes that he’ll call you again soon even though you know that he probably, really won’t.

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[hellfire--cult]

IM SO SAD BUT SEEING THEM BEING SO ENCOURAGING WITH ONE ANOTHER MAKES ME CRY I CANT EVEN DOIFNSJDAD

Hiding Lately - s.h. & e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

‖  summary: You've been hurting and hiding. Steve and Eddie come over to check on you and offer to help.

‖  tags: hurt/comfort. depictions of depression, a depressive episode, and anxiety. suicidal ideations. she/her pronouns, no y/n, nicknames are sweetheart, baby, angel, and doll. could be read as platonic or romantic.

‖  word count: 2.1k

The knock on your apartment door had never felt more damning than it did in that moment.

A knock on the front door was always a nightmare for someone who struggled with their mental health but that was on good days. Today, a knock on the door was definitely not something you were prepared to handle.

So you ignored it. Pulled your covers even further up over your head and hoped that whoever it was would just go away.

No such luck.

You hear the muffled sound of the deadbolt turning and then the seal of the door breaking as it inches open. “Hellooooo?” Is the familiar echo out into the empty space of your place. “Anybody home?”

“She’s gotta be here, her car is out front.”

Fuck it’s both of them. Every hope you had of just hiding and Eddie leaving got thrown out the window the moment you heard Steve was with him. On their own, either might be disheartened by no response – decide they were invading your privacy and leave before venturing too far inside.

Together, encouraging each other, it’s only a matter of minutes before they knock at your bedroom door.

Your pigsty of a bedroom that is covered in dirty clothes and dishes and probably smells weird and they can’t see–

“Don’t come in,” you rasp from your bed, voice tired from disuse as you break your silence for the first time in who knows how long.

“Sweetheart, where have you been?” Steve’s voice comes through the door, obviously right outside it. “We've been calling and calling for days.”

“I… I’ve been sick.”

“Sick? Why didn’t you say something, angel? Could’ve brought you some soup or something,” Eddie adds, sounding concerned. You can clearly picture the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

Eyes closing from their stare at the ceiling, you take a deep breath to force down the sickness that is threatening to rise with every lie that leaves your mouth. “I’m contagious. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“Oh, come on. We’re big strong men, right Harrington? We can fend off a little stomach bug, no problem.”

“Super human immune system, baby,” Steve confirms, and you can hear the smile on his face. It nearly breaks your heart. “No chance you’ll give us anything. So can we come in?”

“No!”

Neither of them say a word after your quick and forceful denial, leaving it to feel like it’s echoing out around the room and grating back into your own eardrums. Just to get it to stop, you softly add, “Please don’t.”

While you’re worried it might’ve been too soft for them to hear, you’re proven wrong by Steve saying, “Then will you come out here?” It’s a soft plea, warm and velvety in its concern and compassion, and it feels like a knife in the chest. “Tell us what’s really going on?”

There’s no way to get out of this. You haven’t showered in days, you probably smell rough and look even worse. You’ve been wearing the same sweatpants and hoodie for a week. And you’re going to have to open your door and face your two closest friends like this.

If you don’t go out there, they will come in here. And that’s too much, it’s safe in here, they can’t come in here–

“Okay, okay. I’m… Just gimme a minute.”

“Take your time, we’ll go hang out on the couch,” you hear one set of footsteps away from your door after Steve’s confirmation.

“Not too long though,” Eddie teases, “I’m gonna raid your fridge and eat all of it if you don’t stop me.”

The threat means nothing as he walks away too. There’s nothing in your fridge left that’s edible.

Anxiety from them being here and wanting them to be gone is enough to get you out of bed for the first time today, picking through the remaining pile of clean clothes to find a different pair of sweatpants and a top that isn’t as marinated in body as your current set, slapping on some deodorant and changing your underwear at the same time. You do the bare minimum to make your hair look less like a greasy, horrible mess and gargle some mouthwash because it’s easier than trying to brush your teeth. This already feels like so, so much effort and you haven’t even faced them yet.

This shouldn’t be this hard. Why the fuck is being a normal human being so hard for you? What is wrong with you–

As soon as you’ve even cracked the door open, their murmuring to each other stops and they turn toward you, looking small and unsure in your doorway. Two pairs of brown eyes staring holes into you, seeing right through you, and it feels so fucking painful that you want to just slam the door shut again. They’re looking at you so softly, with so much warmth and openness. 

Because they pity you.

“What do you want?” Your voice is colder and softer than you meant it to be, not moving from your spot that blocks the view of your room from them. You could step out into the living room and close the door behind you to hide your shame, but leaving the safety of your bedroom isn’t something you’re willing to do yet.

“Your fridge is empty.” Eddie’s voice is as soft as yours but the corners of his mouth are turned down in a small frown. “The dishes in your sink have started to smell. Your trashcan and your mailbox are both overflowing.”

Shame and embarrassment presses hot behind your eyes, looking down at your feet. “If you’re just here to point out everything that’s wrong, you can get the fuck out of–”

“Sweetheart.” Steve cuts you off, not cruelly but enough to make you stop anyway. “When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Your heart drops into your stomach when he slowly stands, starting to slowly walk toward you like you’re a skittish animal. “I dunno… I’m not hungry.”

“Shit,” Eddie mutters from the couch, head falling to look at his clasped hands as he leans forward on his elbows.

“When’s the last time you showered? Left your apartment?” Steve continues, looking like his heart is breaking.

“Steve…” You whisper, a croak in your voice again while you shake your head at him. “Please, don’t… Don’t make me answer that.”

Eddie’s head raises again, drawing your attention. He looks just as heart broken as Steve. “Why didn’t you say anything, doll?”

A humorless laugh leaves you, sounding more like a choked gasp. “What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh? ‘Hey, sorry guys, I can’t even get myself to go to the fucking grocery store like a normal human being, can you help?’”

“Yeah,” he answers, sounding almost angry, shaggy hair falling off his shoulders when he nods, “for a start.”

“Eddie.” Steve looks back at him sharply, giving him a warning look that makes him soften again. When he looks back to you, still a safe few feet away, he asks, “What happened, sweetheart? What’s got you…?”

“Hurting?” Eddie offers when the other falters, pushing off his knees to stand as well.

“It’s just…” Your voice cracks, tears you haven’t been able to find in days suddenly pushing at your eyes without warning. You squeeze them closed as your breath catches to try and stop them.

What are you gonna tell them? ‘Oh everything’s so hard.’ Just tell them you’re a fucking child who can’t handle being alive? Might as well push them out the door now–

“Hey,” Steve’s soft voice interrupts your mental berating, taking another few steps closer. “It’s okay. You can tell us anything.”

“No judgement,” Eddie adds, an echo of one of the first things you said to him when the two of you met. It’s been a constant in the relationship you have with both of them. Anything any of you say – no matter how stupid, or fucked up, or wrong – no judgement. Maybe some teasing, depending on how stupid. But they’ve never judged you for anything and there is no reason for them to start now.

But this? Trusting someone, opening up to someone, letting someone in about this? The idea is terrifying.

“Everything’s just…” You trail off again, looking off and down the hallway away from them as you bring your arms up in a sort of hug for yourself. “It’s all just a lot, right now.”

“Will you…” Eddie shoves his hands into his pockets as he kicks out his boot like he’s kicking a rock. “Will you let us help you?”

You’re shaking your head before he can even finish the sentence. “I– I can’t ask you to do that.”

Steve’s fingertips brush your elbow, the first human touch you’ve had in longer than you can remember, and it has your head whipping toward him. “You’re not asking. We're offering.”

Hot tears increase the pressure in your head, now starting to pool at the bottoms of your eyes as you struggle to make eye contact with either of them.  “I don’t even know how you could help. It’s just… I can’t…”

“How about this,” Eddie walks up, moving to rest his shoulder on the wall beside the door frame you still occupy. “I’m gonna run to the store and stock up, plus grab us all something to eat on the way back.” You open your mouth to protest but he holds up his hand, “Ah, ah, ah.” It’s enough scolding to close your lips again in a tight line before he points at Steve. “Mr. Mom here can get started on cleaning up the kitchen so it’s nice and easy to cook in. And you tell us what you want to do.”

I want to curl into a ball on the floor and wait to die–

Your teary eyes finally look back and forth between them, begging for an answer – for them to put you out of your misery for even just a moment. “I can give you a couple of options to choose from, if that would help?” Steve offers, fingertips still lightly resting on your elbow.

Squeezing your eyes shut, both to let some of the tears fall and to push back the shame that wants to explode out of your mouth, you give him a stuttered nod of your head. “Okay. Door #1: While we do that, you go and try to take a shower.” The immediate pain must show on your face, because he quickly moves on. “Door #2: You come out here and lay on the couch while I start to clean up. You can take a nap, or we can talk, or we can listen to music – whatever you want. And Door #3, you go back and curl up in bed and we come back to get you when Eddie has some food for us.”

Door 3, door 3, door 3, every bone in my body wants to get back in bed and never get up–

A shaky breath in and out, you open your eyes to look at them. Eddie’s face is forced casual while Steve offers a small and supportive smile. You know they wouldn’t judge you if you picked Door #3 and got back into bed. If you went back to the indent you’ve most likely made from all the hours and hours spent in the same spot. But you want to try. Even if it’s just a little bit. Even if you end up back in bed right after anyway.

“If… If I pick Door #2,” Eddie’s mouth tilts up slightly and Steve’s eyebrows raise in interest, “then can I have a hug?”

“Oh angel,” Eddie presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “If you thought you were going to get away without a hug in any of those options, you’re sorely mistaken.”

You exhale a small laugh out of your nose, a teary smile on your face as they both step up to sandwich you between them in a tight hug. Eddie’s face presses to your ear, curly hair tickling your nose as he rests his mouth on your shoulder. Steve settles higher, resting his cheek on the side of your head as he tucks you closer to his chest. Both boys are warm, solid, and alive on either side of you – almost crushing you with the force of the embrace. But it’s the best crush you’ve ever felt, one that tells you that you’re alive and that someone cares. It makes the tears come through faster, falling down your cheeks with more force as you shudder in a breath.

Steve presses a kiss to your temple, squeezing you just a little bit tighter. “We’re here for you, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s hand fists in the back of your shirt, forcing you an inch closer. “As long as you need us. Not going anywhere.”

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now I live in a place that feels smaller by the day four walls closing in from months spent inside them there is too much grief packed into this small place packed into this bed with unchanged sheets packed between these ribs that somehow are still unbroken and no one has ever been here not in this space, not in this bed, not between these ribs they are too full of my own grief for there to be any space I wish I had those tall ceilings to hold all of these things that are too much somehow, I've become the specter that haunted those halls

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