#stevie-pie

[roscoe-me-and-this-fuckin-kid]

[puppyeared]

swiperposting again bc he looks like a ball python and its the coolest thing ever

[gaycityrollers]

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

i fuckn love pov outsider fics and i especially love fics where it's like years later and tommys grown up and become less of an ass, and i just read one where he had a metalhead robin analogue, and now im imagining him running into eddie at a concert years later and being like oh shit!!! i know that guy. man i should probably apologise im like 80% sure i called him slurs at some point. and he starts to walk over but before he gets there eddie's joined by a super hot girl who looks incredibly out of place in her pink sweater and short denim skirt, but she slots herself into eddie's arms like she belongs there and greets him with a kiss on the cheek. and now tommys like man i called him all those slurs and they weren't even accurate (is it better or worse if they were?? he's gotta stop that train of thought)

but then the girl turns her head slightly and tommy can see more of her face, and she's super pretty with nice skin and big brown doe eyes and a nice spattering of moles across her face and down her neck and... wait a minute. and he squints. tilts his head a bit. and he swears if you ignore the tits and the long hair and the makeup.... he'd swear that was steve harrington. she looks just like him, but a girl, and tommy knows steve doesn't have a sister (tommy'd joked about that a lot before everything, how he'd wished steve had had a sister with his looks, and yeah in hindsight he doesn't know how he never clocked his crush on the guy until college)

and he stares at them for most of the concert before he finally says fuck it and approaches them. what follows is possibly the most awkward and tense high school reunion in history, which is definitely saying something. but once eddie and his girlfriend realise he isn't going to start shit (and once tommy awkwardly asked straight up if she was, in fact, his childhood best friend in drag or something ("which it's cool if you are!! i went to college in cali so i like. know about shit." "oh well as long as you know about shit-""stevie be nice you're giving the man an awkwardness-induced heart attack")) it actually is... kinda nice.

he'd missed steve- stevie now, apparently- after he'd gotten his head out of his ass enough to remember how it was when they were kids, when stevie was just this sweet kid he felt he needed to look after. and it's probably not going to get back to that, even now. she has eddie to pick her up when she falls now, hold her hand when she cries about skinned knees. but he thinks they could maybe still be friendly. put each other on their christmas card list and catch up once a year. she says she'd like that, when he mentions it, and eddie seems to relax a bit as she does so. like he'd been on alert before, taking care of stevie like tommy used to back in first grade. it hurts a little bit that he's something stevie needs to be protected from, but he's man enough to know he deserves it, he was a real dick to her back in high school

but now they can sort of laugh about it, laugh about what it'd be like if junior-year-them could see them now- tommy, a gay man, stevie, a bi woman (and dating eddie munson too, for shame), both genuinely enjoying themselves at a metal concert- and that's something at least.

[virginiadaniels-rp]

Since the start of the tour, the troupe always put on an event for various holidays, including Halloween. It was pretty much just an extra way to sell more war bonds, get pictures with Captain America and the Star Spangled Singers, buy some merch. Since the Captain America shorts started playing, other things featuring him started popping up like action figures and even comic books.

The unfortunate part was that even though they were encouraged to dress up, it had to be appropriate. Which meant, nothing scary, nothing sexy, and it had to be All American. Virginia had wanted to be the Bride of Frankenstein but it was deemed inappropriate, which rather annoyed her. Nonetheless, she carried on and decided to be Glinda the Good Witch with Betty as Dorothy. It was cute and she knew that the kids would like it.

Ginny hurried over to Steve's room and knocked rhythmically against the door. "Stevie, we're all leaving! Got your booty out here!" She teased him.

@steven-g-rogers

[onceuponatimeinthe70s]

1972 - All The Young Dudes

Paul Fitzpatrick: June 2022, London My good mate Jim Martin (of this parish), sent me the above graphic, listing a selection of albums released 50 years ago in 1972. Looking at the list we joked that our musical tastes haven’t progressed much as we continue to binge on a daily diet of much the same content. I expect it will be a similar story next year when we reflect on the top albums from…

[calumfmu]

tell me its a bit

"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.

or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.

cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)

The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.

The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.

You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”

He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.

“What are we doing?”

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.

“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.

“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”

Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.

“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.

He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.

“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.

“Do you not want to be?”

“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”

“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.

You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.

“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”

He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.

“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.

“I never asked you?”

“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid’ them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.

“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.

“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.

“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.

He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.

His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.

“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.

“What else are you going to make me work for?”

One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.

“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.

“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.

“Shut it, Harrington.”

The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.

"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You-"

You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.

"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.

His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.

"Steve."

Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.

"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.

"Cut the act."

With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.

It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.

The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, you're so—"

He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.

"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."

He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.

His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.

"Ste-Steve, fuc-"

You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.

You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.

He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.

Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.

You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.

"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."

The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.

A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.

"'S not enough, Harrington."

You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, princess. I know y—"

His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.

"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"

He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.

Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.

He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.

"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.

"I-you what?"

It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.

"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.

"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.

He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.

"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.

Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.

"You're such an asshole, Harrington."

You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.

"I love you too, princess."

Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.

Masterlist. <3

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hello,Can you write Steve Rogers smut with the age gap? Please

hi baby, I thought I’d do something a bit different and instead of an older steve… we’re gonna have younger steve with older reader🫣 this was only supposed to be short… don’t know what happened.

summary - steve knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way towards his neighbour, especially since you’re married.

warning - smut, cheating, age gap, swearing, slut is used, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips.

Steve knew this was wrong, he shouldn’t be feeling this type of way towards you. Especially with you being married, you and your husband lived right next door to him. It was wrong of him to lust after you, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when you’d smile so prettily at him when you’d leave your house or accidentally leaving some skin exposed when you wore that silk robe of yours.

Steve couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times he’d tug on his throbbing cock to you. The way your plump breasts would jiggle with each movement or how your arse would bounce and your hips would sway were stuck in his mind, causing him to constantly be hard.

He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away as he stopped for a split second. Stretching his back slightly as the lawnmower rumbles in front of him.

“Hiya Stevie!” Steve’s head whips around so fast at the sound of your voice, almost stumbling on his feet. You chuckle, waving and he gulps, taking in the tight but flowing sundress that you’re wearing, Steve’s mind imagines how you’d feel against him while wearing it, bending you over the railing and lifting your dress so he can watch himself slide deep inside of you.

Steve clears his throat, lifting his hand in a wave. “Hello, Mrs. Drysdale.” He nods before beginning to move, mowing the lawn.

“You look like you need a drink. Why don’t you come on up? I just made some lemonade. Wouldn’t want you to overheat yourself.” Steve stops again, looking over as you talk. His eyes drift down as you tilt your head and lean against the railing, your breasts pushing up causing his cock to twitch.

“I—I wouldn’t want to be a bother, ma’am and I don’t think your husband would appreciate that.” He practically snarls as he mentions your husband. The man was the biggest arse he had ever encountered and didn’t seem to treat you like the goddess you were. It made him wonder why you even married a man like that.

You wave your hand, dismissing his words. “Don’t worry bout him, Sugar. He’s left me all alone for the week.” Steve’s dick swells as you pout, big, wide eyes staring down at him. “I’ll be inside if ya wanna take up my offer.” He watches you spin and disappear into the house.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He fights with himself, “Do not go in there.” He mutters, continuing with the mowing before he suddenly slams his hand down and turns the machine off. “Fuck it. It’s just for a drink. Nothing else, Steve. Don’t think so much into it.” He growls to himself as he stalks across his lawn and up your stairs, awkwardly opening the front door and walking in. “Mrs. Drysdale?” He calls out.

“In here, Sugar!” The moment Steve rounds the corner, he chokes, hands immediately shooting to the front of his jeans. You are bent over, checking something in the oven, your fat arse sticking up, the dress hugging against it making Steve swear he can see the outline of everything underneath. You stand and Steve quickly moves to stand behind the counter, hiding the giant boner that’s straining against the zipper, begging to be let out.

“Sorry, was just checking on the pie. You like apple?” Did he die and go to heaven? Fuck, you were a dream come true. You tilt your head, leaning against the counter, Steve’s eyes immediately fall to your exposed cleavage and you smirk softly. “You all there, Sweetness? The heat didn’t get to ya already, did it?”

Steve shakes his head, clearing his throat and looking back up. “I’m alright, ma’am. I’m not intruding am I?”

The laugh you let out echoes throughout his ears, causing his heart to swell. “Don’t be silly, I invited you in.” You grab the lemonade and two glasses, filling them. “Come sit.” You slide the drink over to him before walking over to the couch, your hips swaying with each step and Steve gulps, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to get over there without you noticing his problem.

You turn, taking a sip of your drink before patting the spot beside you. He turns and grabs his drink, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he wills his cock to soften. Steve walks over and takes the seat next to you, eyes immediately stopping on your legs before slowly drifting up your body. You give him a sweet smile when your eyes lock, his cheeks turning a slight pink at being caught.

“It’s okay to look, Steve. Nothing wrong with looking.” Steve’s gaze falls to your mouth as your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your eyes move down his body. “Do you ever think of doing more than looking, Steve?”

His eyes snap up, widening at your question and he quickly shakes his head. “N—no, ma’am. W—wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hum, leaning forward to place your drink down onto the coffee table before resting your hand on his thigh. “Are you sure? Lying isn’t an attractive quality to have, Sugar.”

Steve squirms under your touch, gulping as you lean closer to his, giving him a perfect view down your dress. “M—ma’am…”

“Call me Y/N, Steve.” You tilt your head and smile, batting your lashes. “Unless you have some other name you wanna call me.”

“Y/n…” He tests your name on his tongue, his cock twitching with how perfectly it rolls off. Your thighs squeeze together, your tongue flicks out, wetting your lips. “This isn’t right, what about Mr. Drysdale?”

Steve’s gaze darts between your eyes, lips and plump breasts that threaten to spill from your dress. He whimpers when you cup his chin, directing his gaze back up.

“My husband doesn’t have to know.” You move closer, practically climbing into his lap. “Plus, I don’t think he’ll notice, he’s too busy with his own plaything nowadays to remember he has a wife at home.” Steve’s gaze falls to your lips, hardening even more as they form a pout.

His brows furrow, hands moving to grip your hips, pulling you fully onto his lap. “His own plaything? He’s cheating on you?”

You hum, a whimper getting caught in your throat as your cunt brushes against his bulge. “Uh huh, Ransom was never the most loyal.” You lick your lips, batting your lashes as your eyes connect with Steve’s. You cup his cheek, stroking it with your thumb as your gaze moves to his pretty pink lips. “I always wondered what it would be like to fuck a younger man. Younger seems to be the thing when it comes to affairs, don’t cha think?”

His hold on you tightens, digging his fingertips harder into your hips. “He’s stupid to cheat on a woman like you.” His tongue darts out, eyes moving to stare at your lips. “And it would be stupid of me to decline a ladies wish.”

Your hips move gently, rubbing against the hardened bulge in his pants. You hover over his lips, soft whimpers slipping from your lips. “Fuck me please, Steve.” Your hand slides down, resting against his neck. “I’ve seen how you look at me, notice how hard you get when I wear certain things. Been wanting you for so long, yet you’ve never taken the hint.”

Steve groans, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you towards him, devouring your lips into a rough, heat filled kiss. His other hand tightens, helping you move against him, feeling you soak his jeans as you hump him like a desperate slut.

“F—fuck, okay! Uh…” Steve tries to think for a minute but it becomes harder the more you move against him, your lips now attached to his neck, making his brain go all fuzzy. “W—what about the pie?!” He suddenly remembers the food in the oven, only because he thought back to when he walked in and found you bent over. “D—don’t want to have to stop cause the house is burning down.”

You kiss up, moving to his ear and nibbling on the lobe. “Don’t worry bout it, last I checked it had thirty more minutes to go. Can you make me cum in that time, Sugar?”

He groans, flipping the two of you over, grabbing your hands as you go to lift the dress from your body. “No, keep it on.” You swear you became wetter just from his words. “Wanted to fuck you in it, in all your little dresses.” He presses against you, rubbing his jean clad bulge against your soaked core. “Such a fuckin’ tease, always prancing around either half naked or dressed like a slut in these.”

The moan you let out is almost pornographic, not even your husband could bring that sound out of you. Steve’s hands move up, pulling the front of your dress down and groaning as your plump breasts bounce free. “Fuck, so fucking perfect.” Your hands fly to his hair as he leans forward, peppering kisses along your skin before he pays attention to your nipples, licking and sucking, even going as far as nibbling gently on each one.

“S—Steve! Please.” Your hips lift as you rub against him, needing something, anything to relieve you of the tingles between your legs.

He groans against your flesh, rutting against you before he pulls back. “God, you’re so fucking needy. So needy for a younger man, aren’t you?” You nod, hands reaching out to try and grab onto him, any part of him. “Tell me what you want, I need you to say it.” He moves closer to you, letting your hands wander his bare chest.

“Fuck me.”

He unzips his pants, taking his throbbing dick out and he begins to stroke it, half-hooded eyes connecting to your teary ones. Steve grunts, tearing your knickers from your body before lining his mushroom tip against your weeping entrance. “Are you sure you want this, ma’am? Because there’s no going back.”

You nod rapidly, “God, yes. Please Steve.” Your eyes roll back and mouth drops open as he pushes in, stretching you onto his large cock. Your hand rests against his chest while the other flies back and grips the couch beneath you. “Oh god, you’re so big! Fuck.” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as Steve continues to thrust all the way inside you.

“Shit, so good, Mrs. Drysdale.” Steve groans, feeling your walls tighten around him. He leans down and tucks his face into your neck, kissing it as he begins to fuck into you hard. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, gripping it. Steve grabs your thighs, lifting them on either side of him and then grabs a pillow, stuffing it underneath you causing your eyes to cross at the new angle. “Feel better? That’s all you needed isn’t it? A good fucking.”

Your back arches, nails digging harder into his neck and couch. “O—oh!” Your toes curl and you tighten around him. You never thought fucking someone younger would feel so good.

“Gonna cum for me, Sweetheart? Gonna let me cum so deep into you that it’ll still be leaking out of your pretty little pussy when your husband gets back?” Your scream fills the house as you cum, walls spasming around his thick length, your juices coating him and the couch. You whine, gripping him tight as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. “So good for me, gonna let me do this again, Mrs. Drysdale?”

“F—fuck yes, please cum in me, Steve!”

Steve shrugs with a smirk, “as you wish.” He pounds into you a few more times before burying deep inside of you, throwing his head back as his balls tighten and thick ropes of cum spurt out of him, coating your walls white. He pulls out, putting you down gently before getting up and heading into the kitchen. You lie there completely fucked out, feeling so good and tingly all over.

Steve comes back, sadly his cock is tucked back in. He gently cleans you with the damp tea towel before fixing your dress. “How do you feel?” You hum, nodding.

“So good but why did you put yourself away?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you look up at him and he groans.

Steve shakes his head. “Your husband is an arse for neglecting such a pretty thing for so long.”

The whole week before your husband got back, you got fucked so many times in so many different positions. Even when he was home, you would occasionally sneak around with Steve.

Steve couldn’t keep the smile off of his face.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

[blckbrrybasket]

31. “Body Electric”

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington

꒰Cucking + Breeding Kink꒱ - 1.9k

• unprotected sex, cuck!eddie, teasing, consent checking/color system, cream pie, somewhat feral Steve?

kinktober m.list

If someone had told Eddie a year ago that Steve Harrington was fucking his girlfriend in front of him with his consent, he would have laughed in their fucking face. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington with his girl? No way. And now, well they weren’t exactly friends.

The two were never super close, but they trusted each other. There was no way around trusting each other after being forced together in a group to save the world, or whatever. A year later and they still had somewhat limited contact. Having so many mutual friends now left them seeing each other more and more.

Apparently the trust went deeper than Eddie was consciously aware, because when thinking of a guy to sleep with you for Eddie to watch, you both ultimately landed on Steve. The two of you were always up for trying new things, so when Eddie proposed him being cucked you didn’t shoot down the idea.

You were intrigued to say the least and you were both aware of how Steve looked at you. He was no homewrecker, always keeping a safe distance, but when Eddie called him to ask if he wanted to sleep with you? At first he laughed awkwardly, thinking it was a cruel joke, but when that notion was cleared he had immediately said yes.

You were smart, hot, and he got to fuck you in front of Eddie, a perfect deal. Steve had no qualms with Eddie, but he did love the idea of cucking him. Of course Eddie set ground rules, the biggest one being not doing anything you wouldn’t like. The second? That Eddie is in charge even when he wasn’t the one fucking you.

Steve groaned at it, but agreed when Eddie threatened to find somebody else. Truthfully, there was no one else he could think of, but it didn’t hurt to make Steve sweat a bit. Day of, you restlessly sat on the bed while Eddie welcomed Steve into his trailer. Your legs dangled off the side of the mattress, feet dragging over the worn carpet to settle your nerves.

A creak came from the ground and you perked up, head lifting to see Eddie with Steve standing behind him. Your eyes bounced between them, Eddie being the first to walk over to you. “You’re sure you want this, right?” You murmured an “uh huh”, chin in between Eddie’s ringed fingers when he leaned down to kiss your lips. 

Instantly any doubt melted away, soothed by his chapped lips. “Okay. Anytime you want to back out,” he whispered against your lips. “I say red,” you finished, giggling against his lips as you repeated what he had said multiple times. Eddie pulled back, cupping your cheek to shake your head from side to side.

“Don’t be a brat when I’m about to let Stevie fuck you.” The reaction to the name was instantaneous, both you and Steve groaning at it. Eddie chuckled, pecking your lips quickly before backing up to sit on a chair he had set near the corner of his room. Steve took his cue, entering the small room. “Eager?” He smirked at Eddie already being prepared, getting flipped off in response.

However, Steve was not easily deterred, making his way to stand between your legs. “This okay?” He made sure on top of Eddie's earlier worries. You rolled your eyes at him, “Kiss me already.” Steve chuckled. “Bossy? We’ll fix that.” And god, you didn’t know how true that statement would be. You always assumed Steve only had one mode which was gentle loverboy. 

The first half was very tender. It was a clear change of pace from how you and Eddie usually ripped each other's clothes off of each other. Steve liked to build up suspense, treating you like you were made of glass. He had slipped each piece of clothing off until you were watching with rapt attention as he finally took his own clothes off.

You sighed, hands hovering before you touched his chest. “I didn’t expect you to be so hairy,” you laughed, fingers brushing over the hair on his chest. Steve couldn’t help but be proud, unable to see Eddie’s pouty expression but he could guess it was present. Steve’s hands found your arms, guiding you to lean back as he climbed between your legs. 

He purposefully laid you upside down on the bed so he could give Eddie a closer view at your face when he fucked you. “Are you ready?” Steve asked. Your head naturally tilted back to look at Eddie, making Steve tut. “Ah, ah, not him. I asked you.” Steve’s thumb and index finger pinched your chin and turned your head to look at him. “Yes.”

He grinned, hands sliding down to grab your thighs, lifting them to press to your chest. Steve slid his arm to the backs of your knees, keeping them up. His other hand traced over your mound to slide down between your folds. “So wet already,” he mused. “Is she always this wet, Eddie?” Eddie scoffed, listening to the slick sounds as Steve played with you. 

“Yeah, she is.” Eddie tongued at the inside of his bottom lip, blood flowing to his hardening dick. This wasn’t about him though. While you were too preoccupied with Steve thrusting two fingers into your pretty pussy, he would know if he jerked off. This was about you. Eddie wouldn’t receive any pleasure and yes that’s what he wanted, but it didn’t make his hands loosen from their fists. He must have been whisked away in his thoughts, interrupted by Steve’s voice.

“I think she’s loose enough,” Steve commented, looking down at you. “You think you’re ready to take me, honey?” You nodded, cunt drooling over Steve’s sticky fingers as he pulled them from you. “Words, sweetheart.” “Yeah, yes, please, Steve.” He smirked, grabbing his painfully hard cock, letting your legs settle back to a more natural position. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand, swallowing when you saw the girth of his length. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at Steve, relaxing back at his words; Eddie relaxing the moment he saw you sink into his bed. His dark eyes were trained on the two of you, watching Steve press into you. Eddie’s heart thumped precariously as he waited to see your reaction. Your face was scrunched up, but you were still breathing steadily, taking it perfectly.

Steve pressed his hand to the side of your head, breathing in deeply. “Knew you could do it.” Your eyes fluttered open, staring up at his pleased expression. He was everywhere, at least you felt like he was. The burn of the stretch began to taper off, faster now that his thumb was playing with your clit. He felt your ridged walls contract and he chuckled. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed in a breathy voice, eyes sliding shut again as you tilted your head back. Slow and soft is once again how it started off. Deep thrusts brushed against all the spots your fingers couldn’t reach. You were so deep into the pleasure you could barely register when his thrusts began picking up.

It wasn’t until you heard Eddie’s groan, opening your eyes to look at him, did you notice how your view was unsteady, shaken by each pound. Steve drove back into you repeatedly, unashamed moans spilling from his lips. You hiccuped, chest rising before falling when you cried out. “Shit, Steve,” you groaned, head turning back to him.

His perfect hair was a mess, loose strands curling on his forehead and bouncing with his movements. Steve flicked his eyes up to watch your face, irises eclipsed by lustful pupils. “Yeah?” He grunted. “So beautiful. You’re so…beautiful.” He blew out the air from his lungs, leaning against your body now.

Ducking his head, he wrapped his lips around one of your soft nipples, sucking on it. It was enough for him to whine, tongue laving over it as he raised and lowered his head as if he was trying to manually make it harden. Steve’s teeth grazed the sensitive spot, eyes glancing up at you as you gave a strangled moan.

He smirked around your tit, popping off to bend over you. Steve’s chest pressed to yours, bodies tangled together while your guts tightened together, his spit on your chest smearing onto his chest hair. “Steve, Steve, oh…Eddie!” Even without Eddie being the one to fuck you, you couldn’t help but moan your boyfriends name. Steve’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, glancing at Eddie who looked ready to leap out of his chair. 

He shot Eddie a look as if to say ‘stay seated.’ and some other unmentioned choice words. Steve bit the inside of his cheek, looking back down at you as he grew close to finishing. Eddie caught on to what he was planning, glaring immediately. 

“Steve,” Eddie grumbled the warning, hand retightening into a fist on the top of his thigh. Steve grinned salaciously, “I know, I know.” he responded to your mewls, choosing to ignore Eddie. “He’s being mean right?” Steve knew what he was doing, eyes glinting as he stared eddie down, mouth lowered by your ear. You didn’t know why Eddie was being mean, or about what, but it sounded right in your blissed out state.

“You want it, want my cum…but what Eddie says goes, honey.” The seed was planted, making you realize what Eddie didn’t want. “Eddie please,” you begged him to let Steve cum inside you, needing it. Eddie clenched his jaw, teeth straining under the force. “Babe..” he started, but you were too far gone to realize that you were being bratty. “Please, please, please,” you cried, tears collecting on your waterline. You were so close, unable to cum without confirmation.

“You should give her what she wants.” Steve hummed, bouncing your ass off his hips as he continued thrusting within you, teetering on the edge. It was a dangerous game, though, it was one that paid off. “Go ahead,” Eddie conceded. Steve’s lips curled up into a more sinister smile when he received permission.

Steve pressed his sweaty cheek to yours, skin sticking together. “Want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum, of my babies? Fuck you so full…let you swell with ‘em.” Eddie’s eyes widened as you deliriously nodded, sob ripping through you as you clenched around Steve’s cock.

Even Steve seemed surprised by the outburst reaction. “Oh, you want that? Want to be full of my babies, fucking nasty.” he laughed, hips stuttering as he tapered off into a groan. His balls tightened, slapping once more against you before he stilled for a second. “Yes, yeah, take my cum, honey. Make it take.” Steve’s hot spurts of cum filled you up as you shook at the feeling.

Eddie licked his teeth with a laser focus on you as you seemed to fight to cum. Steve’s fingers found your clit, pinching it to send you spiraling. White hot stars bloomed beneath your eyelids as you came, back arching against Steve. Steve chuckled breathlessly, looking back at Eddie.

His hips resumed, grinding forward to push his cum deeper into your cunt. Eddie’s unamused expression came back as he spoke up, “That’s enough.” Steve pants, nodding compliantly as he slowly came back down to earth. His palms rubbed at your hips, hissing as he pulled out, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy.

You tensed at the feeling, his cum seeping out onto Eddie's comforter. You didn’t want to let go of the feeling, cunt feeling so warm and gooey. “Jesus Christ,” Eddie mused, looking at your spent body, getting up.

Steve was already checking on you, hand smoothing over your head. “Are you okay, honey?” In a daze, you give a dopey smile and laugh. “So good.”

tags: @babybatlover, @starrgurl46, @wowzers-07, @nenukkjhj, @morgan0lw21, @kinokomoonshine, @slut4ddn, @adventures-of-impala, @dreamerjj

[virginiadaniels-rp]

Virginia couldn't help but smile in excitement as he opened the gift. She chuckled and hugged him back, kissing his cheek. "Of course, you're so welcome. I knew you would like it. And I figured we could even read it together. I enjoyed reading the first book, and of course the movie as well." She rubbed his arm and kissed him again. "Happy birthday, handsome. I love you too."

"Are you ready for your other gift, now?" Ginny wagged her eyebrows playfully and stood up. "I want to put on a little show for you." She was wearing one of her nightgowns, as she had snuck over after getting ready for bed, but underneath was one of her nicer sets of undergarments. Unfortunately, with the war and living on the road, it was hard to get the really nice sets.

@steven-g-rogers

"Mmhmm, you're the birthday boy after all. You deserve every sweet treat." Virginia caressed her fingers against his cheek as they kissed once more. She didn't want to pull back but she did want him to have a nice gift to unwrap. Besides herself, that is.

"Okay, let's leave the best one for last then." She smiled and sat up so she could get her purse. She pulled out a small wrapped rectangle and handed it to him.

Inside the wrapping was the latest installment of the Wizard of Oz books. Ginny knew how much Steve liked the movie, and there were so many books set in the universe. Tucked inside the book was a bookmark she made him out of a thick piece of paper. Written in cursive was "To my Stevie, Happy Birthday, Love Ginny" and there were clippings of pictures she thought he might enjoy glued to it.

@steven-g-rogers

[virginiadaniels-rp]

((in honor of my girl's birthday, here's a moodboard I made for my and @steven-g-rogers RP! I think it turned out so cute!))

Captain and Nina Rogers- The Couple of the Century (Steve Rogers and Virginia Daniels)

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day one

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: cream pie

word count: 0.9k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, unprotected p in v, cream pie

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @nix-rose

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

The day you got on birth control, Steve was like a man possessed. You had raised the premise nonchalantly, whilst the boy was between your legs, tongue swirling around your pussy as you blurted out the fact that you had now been prescribed a certain little pill. 

You had stopped him in his tracks, his wide brown eyes looking up at you from the apex of your thighs, your arousal coating his mouth and chin. Your fingers went to his hair, raking through the soft strands pulling the boy from his trance. 

“Does that mean—?”

“Yes,” you cut him off, bucking your hips just enough to urge him back to what he was doing before.

“Fuck,” he groaned, digging his fingers into your doughy thighs in a bruising grip. Putting all his attention back to your dripping core, working you as best he could.

Steve’s eyes were closed as he groaned obscenely into your pussy, licking and sucking on your aching clit. You were soon hurtling towards the edge, sparks shooting through your body as your vision went fuzzy and your head went dizzy. Fingers tugging on Steve’s hair as you ground your pussy on Steve’s mouth.

The boy made quick work of his own underwear before sitting on his hunches between your legs, stroking over his stiff cock as he gazed at you through hazy eyes. Spitting in his palm, he lined himself up with your entrance.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his free hand found itself placed on your thigh, thumb stroking soothingly over the sensitive skin.

So you hooked your legs over Steve’s hips, your feet crossed at the small of his back, pulling him closer to you. Your foreheads were almost pressed together, the points of your noses knocking as you whispered against his lips, “Please.”

“Shit, okay—,” Steve murmured, swallowing the lump in his throat, exhaling a moan against your lips as he let the tip of his cock press into your hole. A moan which you gladly swallowed.

Steve began to roll his hips slow and deep against your own, his cock dragging out of your pussy at an agonising pace only for your cunt to suck him back in every single time. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his large palm clutching at your hip.

The sweet little moans and whines you breathed out below him along with the intense feeling of you wholly wrapped around him was pushing him towards his climax embarrassingly fast, the boy blurting out, “I don’t know, fuck, how much longer I can last, baby,” he whined, his skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, “pussy feel so. fucking. good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you cried, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he picked up the pace now, his hips snapping against your own, the sound of skin slapping against skin sounding throughout your bedroom. All your thoughts incoherent, all your attempt at sentence complete nonsense as Steve fucked his thick cock in and out of your cunt.

Poor Steve tried to hold off as long as he could but it was no use, you felt too good, too warm, too wet. He tried to savour every moment of this latex-free rendezvous but the way you clenched around him with every thrust really did a number on his brain. He slithered a hand between your bodies in an attempt to lazily rub at your clit, egging you on to finish with him.

“Baby, I gotta cum,” he whined, hips beginning to stutter, his stomach beginning to tense, “where can I cum, pretty girl? Please tell me, fuck.” He pleaded, begged rather. The intense feeling building up in his lower stomach was becoming too much to bear.

 “Inside me,” it came out strangled, a hoarse moan as you whimpered, nails digging into Steve’s broad shoulders, raking up his tan skin, “want you to cum inside me, Stevie, please?”

Cock growing impossibly stiffer, his heart thumping on overtime, if he wasn’t buried inside you to the hilt he’d ask you to pinch him. The pure thought of seeing his cum leaking from your pussy, the creamy white thick and warm inside you, sent Steve into overdrive.

He held himself up on his elbow whilst his hand cupped your cheek, his lips hot and wet on yours in a searing kiss. His hips still working against you, his fingers still rubbing at your puffy clit, both of your climaxes on the brink.

“Just like that,” you cried, “don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You arched your back off the sheets, pressing your chest against Steve’s hairy one, your skin buzzing as everything became hot and tingly, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve cooed, his hips unrelenting against you, “gonna stuff you full of my cum, pretty girl, is that what you want, huh?” He asked, “Wanna have my cum dripping from that pretty little pussy?”

“Yes!” you whined, pleading with Steve to give you what you wanted, which he always did. His thrusts began to grow sloppy, the boy taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he came undone above you.

Steve moaned that sweet little moan as he filled you with his cum, his chest heaving as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on your skin tough. His thighs shook as his toes curled, grumbling and groaning incoherent mumblings of praise and pussydrunk filth.

The sight before him when he finally pulled his cock from you was one he would never forget. Your pussy wet with your own juices and creamy with Steve’s cum leaking from your hole. He reached his fingers out to you, careful not to overstimulate you, spreading the stickiness over your puffy lips.

Having you spent like this, dripping with Steve’s cum was truly a sight for very sore eyes.

[hotluncheddie]

‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting. 

He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly. 

Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve. 

He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit. 

‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm. 

‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’ 

‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head. 

Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain. 

‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now.��

‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’ 

He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek 

‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite. 

‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.  

Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face. 

‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming. 

-

me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[rustedhearts]

keepsakes (boxer!steve harrington x fem librarian!reader)

summary: the heat goes out during an autumnal cold front in your new hawkins home, so you make the most of a cozy day at home.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring (1995) ✶ the library ✶ ‘tis autumn

✶ roller girl’s pie stand!

tags: pure marshmallow fluff, allusion to smut at the end. akin to old boxer steve from ‘22

hawkins, indiana. october, 1995.

“They said they can’t get out until Tuesday,” Steve huffs, slamming the phone back into the receiver on the kitchen wall.

You groan into the steam furling from the ceramic pot on the stove. “Ugh, come onnnn.”

Steve shuffles into the room with a sigh, thermal-sleeved arms winding their way around your shoulders. They fold together over your chest, guiding you back against him. You let him tuck his mouth into your neck, lips warm, nose cold. You jolt a little when it brushes your skin, giggling when he huffs a harsh breath.

“Mm, I know, angel. But ‘m here to warm ya up,” he mumbles against your throat.

Each of you had enough layers on to keep decently toasty. What you could rummage out of boxes still taped up now sat in a messy pile on your bed upstairs. You hadn’t expected such a cold autumn and thought you had at least a few weeks before you had to break out the winter gear. But now a long sleeve turtleneck sits under a clove-scented 49ers sweatshirt, big and bulky and soft inside like you liked it. Your sweatpants are matching in black color, and you have your hair tied up just like Steve liked it.

He has a white t-shirt under a navy blue thermal that makes his hair seem more chestnut than usual. His sweatpants are grey, the Jimmy’s Gym logo on the top right thigh cracked and faded from wear. You have a pair of his white socks on, and you think it’s adorable that the pair of you have matching feet right now.

Steve presses a noisy kiss to the column of your throat. His hair tickles your chin and makes you laugh again.

“Whatcha got planned today, hmm?”

You stir the wooden spoon through your soup again. “Guess.”

Steve hums thoughtfully, lifting from your neck to squint at the tile. “Hmm, if I had t’ guess, I’d say…reading in that ‘lil window upstairs, pretending you aren’t freezin’ your ass off.”

You scoff, cheeks warming. “N-no…”

“No?” Steve tips his head and kisses your cheek this time. “Saw the book already out. Waitin’ for you. Can’t you hear it calling, baby? All those words you have to read.”

You giggle, squirming in his arms. “Stop, don’t make fun of me.”

You click the gas off and Steve coos, clutching you a little tighter. His cheek is lukewarm when it presses to your temple.

“Aww, my ‘lil nerd. ‘s okay, angel, you know your librarian glasses are so fuckin’ sexy.”

You clutch the handle of the ceramic pot and veer toward the counter, where two mismatched bowls are waiting. Steve gets the hint, matching your steps until you’re moving together. You tip the pot and pour equal amounts of the chicken soup into each bowl, splattering noodle and broth drippings as you go. The window above the sink beside you is beginning to fog with the warmth of the stove. Beyond it, your neighbor’s tree is a vibrant yellow. Shedding pointed leaves across the yard, stuck in the jagged edges of the wooden fence. They gather on Steve’s BMW window, suctioned to the glass with this morning’s rain. The sky’s still a muddled grey, and you have all the lamps and candles lit in the house.

Steve somehow always gets horny in candlelight.

“My librarian glasses? Grab some spoons, please, baby?”

Steve takes one arm from your chest to lean to the left and open the utensil drawer. He gathers two spoons in his hand and nudges it shut, immediately returning to ensure both arms are back in place.

“Yeah. ‘s a good thing, baby, I promise.”

You take the spoons dangling near your collarbone and plop one into each bowl.

“Stevie, can you take ‘em? They’re hot.”

Steve takes a bowl in each hand around your sides and reluctantly pulls away from you. The pair of you whirl around and head for the dining room, a bowl clunking onto a plaid placemat at each assigned seating. Yet as you pull your chair out and go to sit, a pout appears on Steve’s face. He hasn’t even touched his chair.

“What?” you giggle.

“I just…you’re so far away.”

“I’m literally right here.”

“Too far,” he huffs. He swings around and directs his gaze toward the living room. “Let’s go sit on the floor.”

A soft smile touches your face, that glowing warmth gathering in your cheeks again. Oh, something about the cold made Steve so sweet.

“You wanna have a carpet picnic?” You beam.

Steve tips his head back and rolls his eyes. “You and that damn movie—yes, angel, we can have a carpet picnic.”

“Yay, okay! Take the bowls, please.”

He hides his grin against the back of your head when you flounce your way into the living room, forgetting all about the goosebumps and shivers you endured when you woke up to a frozen house this morning. You peel the throw blankets off the back of the couch and lay them on the carpet, smoothing out any wrinkles you know Steve will replace in just a few moments.

The bowls are placed on the coffee table, a folded napkin under each. Steve waits patiently at the corner of the blanket, knowing you’ll let him know when he can join.

The lamplight above you catches and glows on your left hand. On the diamond glimmering on your second smallest finger, haloed with beams of orange. When you lift your hands and pass the flames of the fireplace, amber rays pierce through the crystalline gem.

Steve watches all the while. Watches you move your hands, knowing soon your diamond will rest above a wedding band. In a mere month, just a few short weeks—you’ll be his wife.

The thought alone has Steve sinking to his knees. You whip around to scold him for interrupting your process, but squeak in surprise when he catches your face and kisses you. He smells like cold air and leaves and vaguely of the Marlboro smoked a few hours ago. He smells like Steve.

When he pulls away, you sit back on the blanket and grin. “What on earth was that for?”

Steve assumes the spot across from you, kicking his legs out beside you. He reaches for the soup bowls and carefully places yours near your tucked-in knees.

“What was what for?”

You scrape your teeth over your bottom lip and laugh. “Never mind.”

You turn your attention to the chicken noodle soup and Steve turns back to you. Watches through his lashes as you lift your hands and wipe away wisps of hair on your forehead. Black sleeves curled over your knuckles to keep warm, your fingers appear beneath them in delicate form. He wishes to do nothing but kiss them and stare more at that ring.

“Is it not good?”

Steve blinks, lifting his spoon. Your lips are shiny with broth and oil, eyes rounded in his direction. They catch the fire like your ring and they make Steve swallow hard.

“N-no, baby, ‘s good.” He quickly shovels a spoonful of the soup in his mouth to prove it.

You do a little squirm and smile that makes Steve chuckle. He hunches over his lap to slurp the broth and you wrinkle up your nose.

“Ew, Steven.”

His spoon clinks against the bowl when he drops it.

“Heyyy,” he warns playfully. “Don’t start. There was no attitude at their carpet picnic.”

You giggle. “No, but there was a blowjob if I remember correctly.”

Steve lowers his bowl completely, eyes suddenly alert. “Well, that’s welcome any time.”

Broth bubbles with laughter in your bowl. Steve watches you take small, quiet spoonfuls. When he decides you were only joking and there won’t be an immediate gratification for his Pretty Woman joke, Steve goes back to his soup, too.

Soon the soup is gone and the bowls sit empty on the table. You stretch onto your stomach and place your head on Steve’s lap, allowing his fingers to work over your hair. He pulls it free from its confines and smooths it down. Massages your scalp until your eyes flutter. The flames of the fire rest in dancing orange shimmers on your face.

The rain begins again. It comes with a great howling wind, rushing through the trees and shaking colors loose. The house darkens to near nighttime degree. A grey darkness that turns all the candle flames and lamplight in the room warm.

“Will you read to me, Stevie?” you inquire softly.

Steve’s fingers lag in your hair. He shifts, resting back on his palm.

“Uh…I mean—you sure? Y’ know ‘m not very good at it.”

You let your eyes close and smile to yourself. “I’m sure. I love the sound of your voice.”

Steve smooths his palm over the crown of your head, cupping it. With your eyes closed, he’s free to grin down at you and know it’s just for him. Do you have any idea what you do to him?

“Gonna let me up then?”

You hum. “In a minute.”

“Okay,” he murmurs in agreement.

He holds you there a moment longer, watching the fire warm your face; your socked feet cricketing together at the edge of the blanket contentedly.

“Okay,” you say, pushing yourself up. “Now you can go.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he stands. “Spoiled. What am I getting?”

“You pick. I’m gonna bake some cookies.”

Steve watches you bounce back toward the kitchen with both soup bowls. “Well Jesus, have a little faith in me. I know my way around your shelves.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, setting the bowls in the sink. “You want chocolate or snickerdoo—“

Your words die on your tongue, slipping between Steve’s lips. He pinches your jaw in one hand and holds you still, mouth forced to pucker for his gift. He hums when he nips at your bottom lip, licking at his own when he releases you.

“Somethin’ t’ think about while ‘m gone,” he says, a heavy hand popping across the fat of your asscheek before he turns around.

Steve heads toward the stairs, ascending them while doing his best to crane over the railing and watch your flushed reaction until he no longer can. He immediately walks to your library–much smaller than the one back in California, but somehow it captured the girl he met in this very town better than anything in the sunshine state ever could—and directs his attention to your stuffed shelves.

He has absolutely no idea what he’s looking for, and stands for a while just staring aimlessly at the spines with his hands on his hips. He hears you clink and clang around in the kitchen. The beep of the oven. The slam of the oven door. It’s much colder in the library, and Steve swears there’s a draft in your window seat.

He turns to inspect it, pressing one hand firmly on the cold, foggy glass. As he leans over the plaid fabric of your window seat, his thigh nudges the corner of a leather-bound journal. He recognizes it immediately as the same journal always kept on the bedside table and in the bottom of your purse. It's always next to you so long as you can help it.

When he spins it with his finger, the Polaroid used to keep your last page inches its way to the edge. Steve slowly and carefully pulls it from the pages.

He sinks into the window seat when he's met with his own face.

Six years old now, the photograph is still as perfectly intact as the day it was taken. The flash collects in a younger Steve's eyes, making them appear darker than they really are. The film softens the emerald and violet bruise kissing his left cheek that Steve vividly remembers taking weeks to disappear completely.

He knows immediately where he's standing, where the photograph was taken by the color of the wall alone. The soft ballerina pink, the edges of rosebuds from now-outdated wallpaper. The arched mirror of your vanity rests just behind his shoulders, stretched and puffed broadly with the flex of his arms. Though the muscles are concealed beneath a heavy black sweatshirt, embroidered with his recent champion title.

And in the glossy white border just below his stomach where the photograph completes, remains your handwriting.

My boyfriend husband ♡

"Steeeve? Did you find one?"

Steve quickly clambers to his feet, shoving the Polaroid back into its place in the journal. He grabs the book you had sitting on your rumpled blanket on the cushion.

"Yeah, coming!"

His footsteps clunk down the stairs, and he's met with the scent of warm cinnamon when he finds you in the kitchen, wiping down the counter.

You spin with the rag in hand and a small grin. “Hey, did you find one?”

Steve sets the book on the counter gently. Your eyes turn to inspect the cover, surprised to see one of your “stuffiest” options waiting. Steve hates Dracula, and he hates attempting to read anything written before 1950.

Before you can question his choice, Steve takes a slow step toward you.

“How long do the cookies have?” he asks.

You glance at the timer. “Um…ten minutes, why?”

His hands smooth over your waist, thumbs pressing into your stomach. He grips you firmly, stepping until he can fit his head in your neck again. His response comes in the form of his mouth on your throat—latching on with his hot, wet suction. You gasp, hands flying to touch him: one gripping the front of his shirt and the other tangling in his hair.

He hums, releasing your skin to kiss it gently. He moves down, dragging his nose over your skin. His suction returns to the junction between your neck and shoulder, where the tendons are soft and waiting to be bitten. You jolt with a quiet squeak, grip tightening on his collar.

“St-Steve—“

“Shhh.” He moves one hand from your waist to your chin and tips it away to make room for his head on the other side of your throat. “‘s nine minutes now, angel. Come lay down f’ me so we can make the most of it.”

He takes your hand and leads you to the living room again, and you follow silently. Nearly hypnotized by his softness, tongue swollen dumbly in your mouth.

He takes both your hands to lower you down to the station of your carpet picnic. You thump to your knees, and he follows suit only to lay you on your back with his hand supporting the back of your head. When you’re flat, you blink up at him with bated breaths.

Steve smiles, fingers curling into the elastic band of your sweatpants. The house seems hotter than ever, a flaming warmth coating your body as his touch drags down your thighs with your clothing.

“Don’t worry. Your husband’s gonna take care o’ you, angel.”