#Steve Harrington x black reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsurahara · 9 months

Text

𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗖𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗦 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧┊𝗦. 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗧𝗢𝗡

ఌ︎ p. Steve Harrington x f!reader // g. fluff

ఌ︎. cw. established relationship, original character, kissing, Steve being great with kids, talks about wanting kids, talks of marriage, no use of y/n— let me know if i missed any!

ఌ︎. wc. 1.4k

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Your baby sister, Madilyn, is the textbook definition of an angel. Of course she has her moments, she’s a kid, but for the most part, she’s the best tiny human ever. Which is why you had no problems looking after her while your parents were on their anniversary trip for the weekend.

The two of you were on the sofa watching Race For Your Life, Charlie Brown while dinner was finishing on the stove. Ending the day with dumb cartoons and your favorite human was a win in your book.

Suddenly, the phone rang drawing your attention away from the television. A part of you wanted to ignore it, but if it was your parents and they had to call again, you’d get a never ending earful. Approaching the blush pink landline on the wall you answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Babydoll,” your boyfriend’s smooth voice sounded over the receiver. You leaned against the wall, a smile playing on your lips.

“Hi, Stevie,” your voice sounded breather than anticipated. Even after almost two years together, Steve Harrington still makes you feel like a girl with an elementary school crush.

Introducing Steve, Hawkins’ resident rich boy, to your family was nerve-wracking. The day he picked you up for your first date, you opened the door with a then two-year-old Madilyn on your hip. She shied away and hid half of her face in your neck. After greeting you with a kiss on the cheek he turned to the girl in your arms, “Is this little Madilyn that likes Care Bears?” he asked excitedly and the rest is history.

Your baby sister successfully stole your boyfriend.

But there are no hard feelings because watching the two of them interact with each other is a beautiful sight. Steve’s patience and ability to keep up with the toddler’s often nonsensical rambles, make you firmly believe that he would make a great father; hopefully to your own kids someday.

“How’s babysitting going?”

“It’s been good, you know Maddie’s a good kid,” you shrugged watching the little girl curled up on the couch with her stuffed bunny.

“Mm,” he hummed as he exhaled, “You two want company? Or is it strictly sister bonding time?”

“Hm, I think the kid and I can go for a night with our favorite guy,” your smile widened as you twirled the coiled line around your finger.

“Well in that case, I’ll see you in 10.”

“Steve…you live twenty minutes away,” you said skeptically.

“Like I said, 10 minutes— I love you,” you could practically hear the smile on his face.

“I love you too and please drive safely,” sincerity coating your words. With a promise to see each other soon, you hang up and join your sister on the couch.

Maddie shifted over to curl into your side. You looked down at the girl and squished her closer. Becoming a big sister is easily one of the best things to happen to you. Sure fourteen year old you was skeptical and a little jealous about your first sibling, but as soon as you held the newborn in your arms for the first time, you knew you would do anything for her.

A loud knock on the door had you both alert and looking toward the front hallway. Upon opening the door, you were met with a very sexy looking Steve Harrington. His sunglasses were perched on his nose and the yellow Polo shirt was unbuttoned showcasing his chest hair. He smiled cockily and removed his sunglasses, “you can eye fuck me inside, doll,” he pushed past you and into the house. Closing and locking the door for you, Steve wound his arm around your waist and pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled before pressing another short kiss to his lips. Taking him by the hand, you walked back into the living room. “Maddie, look who’s here!” you caught the girl’s attention. Propping herself up on the back of the sofa, she smiled widely and waved her hand so fast, it was just a blur.

“Hi, Steve!” she said excitedly. She held out her arms, her bunny long forgotten, and Steve scooped her up and gave her a big hug.

“Hi Mads, how was your day?” he asked. That led to her talking a mile a minute, not leaving a single detail out about her day.

The timer starts to ring and you walk over to the stove to turn off the burner. You stirred the hot pot of jambalaya, the smell making your mouth water.

You poked your head back into the living room, “You two. Table. Now please,” you hollered over their conversation. Their voices carried into the dining room and Steve helped Maddie into her booster seat. You sat her plate and a cup of watered down apple juice in front of her. Bringing in yours and Steve's plates, you all sat down together and continued to chat over your meal. Every so often either you or Steve had to remind her to finish chewing before talking.

After finishing up dinner, you took Maddie up for a bath and wrapped her hair up for the night. She still had about an hour left before her bedtime so you brought her back down to finish her movie.

When you got back to the kitchen, Steve was putting away the clean and dried dishes. After putting the last of them away you took ahold of his hands and pulled him into you.

“You didn’t have to clean up, I could’ve done it.”

“You were already getting Mads ready for bed, It’s the least I could do,” he shrugged. You smiled, guiding him back to the living room where you were gonna watch the rest of the movie until you saw Maddie knocked out on the couch, soft snores escaping from her. Letting go of your hand, Steve picked the sleeping girl up while you turned off the tv and all the lights then you two walked her up the stairs. You pulled back the sheets and Steve laid her down. You tucked her in with her bunny, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

Retreating from her room as quietly as possible, you two made it back to your room and began getting yourselves ready for bed. Slipping underneath the cool sheets, you and Steve settled in together. “Thank you for coming over, I really do appreciate it,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the back of his hand.

“Of course,” he returned the kiss to one of your hands, “I need the practice anyway.”

“Practice for…?” you asked. Steve pulled you into his chest, his hand lightly gripping your hip.

“The six kids I dreamt of running around our house. You in a pretty little dress baking fucking cinnamon rolls with our girls while the boys wrestle in the living room.”

“What if the boys wanna bake and the girls wanna wrestle?” you smirked, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as our kids,” he took your hand and kissed your bare ring finger, “and my wife are happy and healthy.”

You felt the heat building in your face as a smile played on your lips. “Mm, being acknowledged as ‘Mrs. Harrington’ does sound pretty great.”

“Hell yeah it does, sweetheart,” he kissed you deeply. A knock on the door forced you to break the kiss off sooner than you would’ve liked. The door opened and Maddie poked her head into the room.

“You okay Mads?” you sat up.

“Can I sleep in here?” she rubbed her eye, still sleepy.

“Of course, baby girl,” you pulled the sheets back so she could crawl in between the two of you. Getting her settled, she quickly fell back asleep, stuffed bunny tucked in her arms. You adjusted her bonnet and slightly adjusted the comforter, knowing she hates having her face covered. When you finally looked back at Steve his eyes were already on you.

“I love you,” he mouthed so as not to wake the sleeping child between the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied.

Soon all of your breaths evened out and you all slept through the night. Even with a four year old beating you up in her sleep.

#⌁₊˚⊹ mywriting ⊹˚₊⌁#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #boyfriend!steve harrington #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things #x black!reader #x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader

310 notes · View notes

emsgoodthinkin · 5 months

Text

smut-fluff-angst (includes other ST characters) [MDNI]

As long as I’m with you- Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had (tw)

King Steve doesn’t exist- (Steddie) ft. Billy Hargrove

Steve Harringtons deepest secret gets revealed, but will the freak accept him? Will he runaway from him like everyone else? Does size really matter?

Shy my ass - (short) Steve Harrington x you - you’ve always imagined riding your boyfriends big nose

Bio- (short) Steve Harrington x you - Steve watching you fuck your self on his c*ck

The band-aid to my wounds- Older Eddie fic (ft. Steve x kurt kunkle x reader)

After stumbling into an old barn after being stranded by your freshly new ex boyfriend, you wake up strangely in a room..that isn't yours..

Headcanons / blurbs / imagines

Trans Steve getting his groove back

Convincing Steve to take your v-card

Hot and bothered by their black gf (steddie)

Grinding yourself innocent perv self on Steve’s hand

Struggling to get wet (steddie)

Soft Stevie

Perv cyclist Steve

Steve’s nickname 4 u

Older Steve loves a bush

Fucking Steve while thinking about Eddie

Dilf Steve discovers new kinks

(Steddie) helping chronically ill reader feel better

Sugar daddy Steve moodboard

Sweater weather moodboard, strangers to lovers

Dancing with R&B Steve

Angelic Stancy

Beefy Steve

Hunt me down

Bi Steve

Businessman or dancer Steve imagine

Smash? Smash.

———— extras

Billy Hargrove loves plus size women

Dom Nancy / fruity four headcanons

Robins an angel

Argyles favorite positions

⤬ reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ⤬

128 notes · View notes

nobitchs-world · 3 months

Text

I’m gonna have to pack up the simping it’s almost black history month

#black yn #x black fem reader #black reader #black tumblr #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington x black reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #ellie williams x black reader #jason todd x black!reader #my ancestors are rolling in the grave

108 notes · View notes

arachine · 2 years

Text

– 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: steve harrington x hybrid! fem! reader

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐜𝐰: dark content, hybrid!reader, reader w/ oral fixation, oral sex (m receiving), very tame face fucking, mentions of gagging & choking, female masturbation, cum swallowing, dacryphilia (kinda), biting, bunting (basically when cats mark you with their scent), explicit language, a little angsty but i swear i didn’t mean to !!

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a request for kitty!reader having an oral fixation and how’d they prevent it but i got carried away and did my own thing…sorry (not really) + everyone pls thank my sweet baby angel @cocoamoonmalfoy for beta’ing this for me !! this shit was hot garbage before lol :3

+ 𝐰𝐜: 3.5k

+ 𝐝𝐭: my lovelies @snowflakeicicles @ringpop-poppy

trying to control your oral fixation was probably the most difficult thing they ever had to endure in their lives—apart from, you know, saving the world from man-eating monsters, battling evil scientists, and fighting crazy russians—but they still somehow managed to lessen the severity of it.

at first, when it was really bad, you’d nip at almost everything. clothes, shoes, the legs of a table, hands—fingers, especially fingers. those were your favorite to play with. it had gotten to the point where their hands would be absolutely littered in cuts and scratches, and it had become quite troublesome having to explain to their parents how they had gotten them.

so, that’s when they took it upon themselves to invest in some toys. they tried feathers, stuffed animals, fake mice, lasers, balls of yarn—but nothing seemed to ever work. eventually, they’d settle on just indulging you, coming up with more lies, more excuses, more nonsense to silence their parents’ ever-growing curiosity.

“you’re trouble, you know that?” mike scolds, running his fingers over your silky coat. you merely purr in response, the tip of your tail swaying side to side as you continue to suck, bite, and rough up his digits.

“thank god it’s steve’s turn tonight,” he throws his head back against the couch, “because i don’t think my hands can take anymore of this torture.”

“yeah, my mom thinks i’m getting into fights,” dustin pipes, “i mean come on, look at this face. does this look like the kinda face to be getting into fights?”

that’s right, it was steve’s turn today. your favorite chew toy, how could you forget? your mind wanders back to the last time you stayed at his house. how you’d played, slept, cuddled—kissed…and how he’d let you nip and suck on other places, too. just thinking about it was enough to trigger your human form, skin and flesh appearing in mike’s lap.

“mike, mike, when will steve be here!?” you beam, pouncing on his chest. unintentionally, you pierces him with the tip of your claws, the excitement of seeing steve rendering your brain to complete and utter mush.

“jesus, you just poked me,” the boy rubs his chest, “and why are you so excited to see him anyway?” there’s a beat. silence. it was a simple question, actually. could be answered with a ‘no reason’ or a ‘just excited ’s all’—but you choke, and mike finds this strange. odd. he takes notice of the way you avoid meeting his eyes, a tell-tale sign that you were hiding something, but before he can ask about it, heavy feet make their way down the stairs.

“hey, guys.” everyone averts their attention to where the voice is coming from, a chorus of tepid ‘hey’s filling the room.

there it was, that familiar scent. the one that belonged to…

“steve!” you leap from mike’s lap to embrace the brunet, wrapping the length of your legs around his torso. his hands settle on the curve of your lower back, and he smooths over the area soothingly, a soft expression gracing his face.

“ready to go?” you nod enthusiastically, ears shooting up with a quick flutter.

“alright, you know the drill,” steve points to his backpack, gesturing for you to transform and slip inside.

the drive to steve’s is quiet. and it’s even quieter as the two of you trek and traverse through the house and up the stairs to his room. the only time there’s anything but silence is when steve utters a ‘watch your step’, followed by the eerie sound of the wooden floorboards creaking and cracking under weight.

“just us?” you query, falling into step behind him as you enter his bedroom. the door creates a faint draft, and immediately, your nose is flooded with his scent—it’s strong, intense, pleasant. you can smell him everywhere.

“yeahhh, just us.”

nobody’s home, just like all the other times. you never really poked or prodded, but kind of gathered that this wasn’t unusual for him growing up. coming to his house was always a drastic change in environment, it was just so much different than all the others—which was probably because they were kids, and had siblings of their own, and parents who liked them. silence and tranquility was not something they had the privilege of knowing.

steve didn’t mind it, though. actually, he preferred it. with his dad frequently away for work, and his mother accompanying him, it more often than not, left him with an empty house—an empty house that provided him ample opportunity to do whatever the hell he wanted…which sometimes allowed for drinking, throwing parties, and well, bringing home girls. but more specifically, bringing home you.

“blew out the main light, so it’s a little dark in here, sorry about that,” his fingers point up. he ambles over to his desk to turn on the lamp sitting atop it. it’s tiny and only illuminates a portion of the room, but it’s enough to just barely make out the wanes and curves of his face.

your eyes follow him intently as he moves from one corner of the room to another, a piece of his uniform falling to the floor with every step, creating a trail towards his dresser. he’d always changed in front of you, never thought anything about it. and you never thought anything about it either—that is, until recently.

steve had always been just steve. the one who doted on you, the one who tended to your wounds, the one who dedicated almost (if not all) of his time to ensure that you were well and taken care of. but now? now it was different, and you couldn’t quite articulate why.

bare skin was just skin, and limbs were just limbs, but the sight of steve’s chest and abdomen perfectly outlined by the golden dim of the light, was making your stomach all knotted up. it felt like the feeling you got when you played with the others; when you laughed, and cuddled, and kissed them—but it was more intense, scary. in the way that you’d hoped he only ever did this with you—and no one else.

“what is it?” he raises a suspicious brow. you don’t answer. instead, you let your feet trudge across the carpeted floor until you stand in front of him, until you’re so close, he can feel the heat of your breath fan his face.

you stand there, studying him, trailing your claws lightly over the places his abs concave and dip. he doesn’t know what you’re doing at first, just gazes down to where you stand before him, a look of perplexity etched into the crinkles between his brows.

your hand wanders lower, and the boy releases a deep exhale through his nose. you can hear the pace of his heart quicken as you run your fingers through the trail of hair that starts at his navel and disappears under his briefs. experimentally, you ghost your hand over the bulge in his underwear, looking up to him with inquisitive eyes before placing a firm palm on his front.

he swallows thickly this time, holds the spit in the cavity of his throat, and it burns as it trickles down. you had not the slightest clue what you did to him—the effect you had on people. he wonders if you think this is a game, if the things you do when you’re alone are fully of your own volition—if you actually feel the way he does. and you have to, right? a part of him wants to believe it, that your heart beats for him the way his does for you.

“stevie…” his heart squeezes, and his eyes soften. god, you were the very incarnation of calamity, the thing that started wars and killed many a men.

“yeah?” his voice is breathy, wanting. his eyes flicker across the expanse of your face, stopping briefly to glance down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.

letting your impatience guide you, you pull him down by the shoulders and kiss him. it’s unrhythmic, inexperienced, and wet but he doesn’t pull away. instead, he melts into it. lets you explore his mouth, and peck at the plush of his lips. lets you taste him with your tongue, and run your teeth over the crevice of his neck, watching with bated breath as you go down, down, down…

“slow down there, kitty,” steve jests, “what’s the rush?”

what’s the rush? doesn’t he know that you waited all day for him? to play with him, touch him—taste him? to see him twitch and writhe as you work him with your hands, tongue, and mouth? to hear him call you a good girl—his pretty girl?

“been waiting for you all day, stevie,” you confess, rubbing your cheek against his crotch. it’s so warm, you can practically feel the heat seeping through the fabric of his briefs, and the groan that emits from his throat makes your ears flutter. you wanna hear it again, and again, and...

“all day, hm?”

“all day, everyday. you’re all i think about,” your hands find the elastic of his briefs, “my favorite chew toy.”

steve scoffs at this, because of fucking course. how could he ever be so stupid to believe that you felt the same way he did? he has half a mind to pull you off of him and let all of this, whatever this was, end here. but the other half wants to continue, wants to see the tears stream from your eyes and coalesce at the base of your chin because he’s too big—too much. he wants to be selfish, wants to hear the sounds you make when you choke and gag around the thickness of his cock, feelings be damned.

“figured as much…hey, we should—you should stop,” his hand reaches to push you away but your tail wraps around his wrist, halting his movements.

“no!” a beat. a transient silence that feels almost deafening, just eyes staring back into eyes, hearts thumping unruly. he’s taken aback by your outburst, doesn’t seem to catch the glass-like droplet ribboning down the fat of your cheek.

your eyes depart from his face and fix themselves on the floor, ears following not too far behind with a sad flop. he only picks up on your dejection when you open your mouth to speak and the words come out in a tremble.

“’s not like that…you…you’re different. this is different,” you confess, “you make my stomach feel fuzzy and my head all dizzy! ’s not like that with the others…” the brunet doesn’t know what to say; actually, he does, he’d been fantasizing about this day for as long as he could remember, but the words leave him the second you tilt your head up jut those pretty little lips. he wants to kiss the pout off of you.

“really?”

“mhm, you’re special t’me, stevie. i wanna show you.” your fingers hook under the elastic of his underwear, and you pull it down teasingly, eyeing him as you take the flesh into your hand. “can i…?”

“fuck, yeah, yeah. ’s all yours.”

with a purr, you lean forward and leave a soft kiss on the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue over the spot before taking him into the heat of your mouth. you love this, you think. love seeing the expressions you can pull from him, love seeing how pliant he becomes in the palm of your hand, and the honey sweet praises he mutters only for you. it makes you feel useful, to be able to make him feel good, and take care of him like all the countless times he’s taken care of you.

you’d been waiting to hear these sounds all week, the sharp intakes of breath, the heavy breathing, the drawn groans and expletives. so much so, that you’d find your hands wandering down into your pajama shorts many a nights, thoughts of the boy before you, and how it’d feel for his hands, mouth, fingers to be on you—and how it’d feel for his fingers to stuff your little cunt full.

yeah, you’d spent many nights like that in the dark of mike’s basement, sweaty and fucked out as you brought yourself to climax over, and over, and over. the thought alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you needed to feel some sort of relief. and right now, your hand was the closest thing to provide that.

steve watches with wide eyes as your fingers dip down the waistband of your skirt, and into the confines of your panties. the tips of your digits roll the nub of flesh first, then gather at your core before sheathing themselves inside. a series of moans vacate your throat and vibrate around him, coaxing him to press a firm hand to the back of your head. teasingly, you do it again, humming beguilingly to get him to replicate the reaction.

“shit,” he drawls, placing emphasis on the ’t’, “feels so good, kitty.” your tail wiggles in response to the honest adulation, and so, you take him deeper, using the back of his thighs to force yourself down.

he’s big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is always a plaguing reminder. but you don’t mind it too much, you like when he’s all deep down there, and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat. it always makes you gag, and choke, and sometimes your eyes get too cloudy with tears to the point you can’t see, but it’s worth it. it’s worth it because every time, without fail, he calls you—

“good girl.” that. he calls you that. his ‘good girl’, not ‘kitty’ or ‘good kitty’—but girl. makes you feel all high and mighty, like you’re one of the others, like he sees you as something else other than just a hybrid that he’s been saddled with the burden of caring for. you know he loves you, at least you think he does. he hasn’t right out said it, but judging by his disposition earlier, you couldn’t be too far off.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can’t, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the apex into a sticky mess.

the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he’s been thinking about all day. this was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate, hands still working yourself to orgasm. he can’t help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek. he adores you.

“i lo—“ a pause, hesitance. your ears perk up. “you’re so pretty, y'know that?”

oh. you feel like a dagger dipped in poison just punctured your heart and cut it into smithereens. it hurts, terribly so, but you brush the disappointment off of your face before he can notice and reacquaint yourself with his cock, stroking the length of him languidly, then increasing your pace, going back and forth between the two speeds.

even if he doesn’t say it, those three silly words, the ones you so desperately want him to say—to you and no one else—you think you’ll be fine. all you care about in the moment is making him feel good, making sure that your spot as his girl, his good girl, is solidified and impenetrable. that when another girl goes down on him, they taste you. smell you.

“wanna taste you, mmf. gimme something, stevie.” your eyes flicker up to his, hand still pumping slowly inside your kitten cunt, jaw slack and waiting. fuck, you were so unbelievable. such a sweet little thing, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were one of those high school sluts he brought in and out of here during his ‘king of hawkins’ phase.

“jesus, lemme use ya,” he hisses, hands already coming down to rest on the sides of your head. “can i?” you nod your head, relaxing the column of your throat so that he can slip in and out with ease. the first thrust is experimental, slow. like he’s testing the waters. then, he does it again, pulls all the way out until only the mushroomy head of his cock is sheathed inside.

all you can do is kneel there, breathe in and out through your nose while he builds up a steady rhythm. he decides now that he’s never gonna fuck another girl after you. because how could he? you were his, mouth molded only for him. heart beating only for him.

nothing or nobody could ever compare after you, and he wishes he could boast to the world about how good you are for him, and how much he loves you, but he could never do that, not without consequences. he wants to keep you all to himself, away from evil, and anyone who’d ever inflict harm onto you.

a string of profanities leave his lips. he’s close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage and pet his balls.

yeah, he was gonna cum, could practically feel the white hot liquid traveling up from his balls and to his shaft. he can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he’s sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

you push off of him so that you can swallow it down properly. it’s thick, and much warmer than what you can remember from last time, but swallow it. and when you do, a proud, cheshire grin creeps onto your face. before you stand up, you kiss the inside of his thigh, then bite down onto it, leaving a mark. a reminder.

“i love you.” steve’s mouth moves on its own accord. and at first, he’s not even sure if he said it, but then he sees your little ears flutter, signaling that you did, in fact, hear his untimely confession of love. panic starts to set in, but then you rise from your knees and pounce on him, the two of you stumbling back into his unmade bed.

“say it again, stevie,” the pupils of your eyes widen into saucers, tail swaying side to side as you hold your breath in pure, unfettered anticipation.

“i love you, kitty. and not in that way.” he starts, choosing his words carefully, “…in the way that nance and jonathan love each other, and hopper and joyce. understand?”

your lips part to speak, to reciprocate his feelings, but your excitement is so uncontrollable that you end up biting down into his shoulder. the boy soothes the affliction and mouths an ow before breaking into a fit of laughter.

“not sure what to make of that, is it something good?” steve smirks coyly.

“yeah, ’s good,” your head finds solace in the barrow of his neck. “i…i love you, too. always have. meant it when i said you’re special to me, stevie.”

for a brief second, time seems to stand still, and the only way steve knows how to respond is with a kiss. a slow, passionate, sweet kiss that he pours the pining, desperation and patience of two years into, just hoping that you receive the message.

and you do. loud and clear. you rub the skin of your neck against his, and you do it until every last pore on body is touched by your scent. until you can’t smell him from you, and you from him.

“what’re you doing,” he chuckles, encasing you into a bear hug.

“’s nothing, don’t worry about it!” you lie, but he knows. you left your mark. he was yours, and you were his.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things smut #dark.content

1K notes · View notes

orbitariums · 1 year

Text

poison | steve harrington x black female reader

a little steve harrington x black reader imagine set in the 90s

contains: use of daddy, praise + degradation, etc

enjoy!

Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were bent over at your vanity, elbows perched like a doll on the white marble top while you squeezed out clear lip gloss from a tube. It was that sticky 99 cent kind from the hair store that stuck to Steve’s lips whenever he kissed you, leaving behind a sickly sweet taste that he yearned for more of all the time.

And that dress you were wearing. A simple white dress that clung to your body, hung onto every curve so unforgivingly. The contrast of the white against your skin tone made your color pop. He almost couldn’t stand the thought that other people would get to see you like this, and he made a mental note in his head at that very moment to be by your side at every moment of that party. Not because he didn’t trust you, but because he wanted everyone to know that you were his, without a sliver of doubt.

Watching you pucker your lips and dab delicately at the bit of gloss that strayed from the outlines of your perfect lips became too much for Steve, who had been sitting on the bed behind you with an almost glazed over look in his heavy-lidded eyes. He sat up and stood right behind you, his body flush with yours.

He keeled over you and you felt your breath, warm against his neck, before you heard his voice.

“Baby, let’s just skip the party, hmm? Let’s stay home.”

You knew Steve had nothing but lust running through his mind when his hand found its way up your body and onto the curvy flesh of your chest and he took a squeeze.

You smiled, shaking your head and leaning away out of Steve’s grasp so you could keep prettying yourself up.

“Steve, we are going to this party. It’s Ariana’s birthday, I really don’t wanna miss it. She throws the illest parties, too.”

Steve was relentless, swaying along with you and playfully nipping at your chin, grabbing your sides with a soft grip,

“Mm-mm. I’m keeping you right here, all night. I want you to myself.”

“Mhm, keep dreaming lover boy,” you replied offhandedly, rummaging through your vanity dresser for blush.

When he realized you weren’t giving in to his boyish charm, he pouted dramatically, sitting back on the bed with noticeable force. You turned back to face him when you heard the way the springs creaked angrily with his body weight.

“Can you relax?” you asked, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Just let me fuck you one time before we go,” Steve practically begged.

“Steve!”

“Fine,” Steve bleated monotonously, folding his arms and deadpanning like a child denied a piece of candy. “But you better behave tonight.”

You didn’t take him seriously, but a few hours later, boy did you wish you would’ve.

You pulled up to the party not long after, of course not without having to practically tear Steve off of you all throughout the journey through your house to the car and then to the door of the party, which was held on college campus in Ariana’s sorority. The music was blasting and you could hear it even before you walked in—the song Poison to be specific. You danced a little beside Steve while waiting for the door to open, and he just stood there watching you with that horny little smile on his face.

“Yo!” greeted a friendly voice as the door opened. It was one of your mutual friends, one out of many people who had taken a liking to “white boy Steve,” as your entire friend group called him. Steve paid no mind to the nickname, in fact he had grown accustomed to it and he honestly loved it. It was like second nature to him. “White boy Steve, what’s up, my man?”

You watched Pierce, the guy who had opened the door, reach out his hand to dap Steve up. Steve dapped him up accordingly, then pulled him into a hug. Pierce greeted you as well and welcomed the both of you in, alerting everyone that white boy Steve had arrived. He was in fact, the only white boy for miles on this campus, which was populated by mostly Black and Latinx students. But even with his gelled up hair and a demeanor similar to that of a frat boy, he fit right in.

The party had already gotten started. The house smelled of smoke and liquor, and the floor shook with all the dancing feet pounding against it. It was crowded, as always, but still enough space to walk around and socialize. Although Steve loved seeing you and his friends, you were the only thing on his mind. He was antsy to get out of here and find someplace quiet where he could have you all to himself. It was all because of that damn dress, and that lip gloss you insisted on reapplying coats of every five seconds. It drove him crazy and it was taking everything in him not to drag you away from Ariana midconversation, as you wished her a happy birthday.

“Ari!” you trilled, running up to her as best you could in your glittery silver heels, another thing that was making Steve lose his mind. You were the picture of elegance in his eyes, the definition of a princess. He loved having you as his arm candy, and loved taking care of you even more. It didn’t help that he was also one drink in— that dark brown liquor was going right to his dick.

“Mama, it’s so good to see you, you look so good,” Ariana complimented you with eyes wide. “Lemme see a little spin.”

You actually spun around. Steve’s brows raised all the way up, an uncontrollable reaction, watching you show it off so casually, laughing while you did. Steve couldn’t comprehend how that laugh rang like the most angelic music in his ears and also made him want to bend you over until your innocent giggles were drowned out by crude moans. Meanwhile, you were off in girly fairyland with your friend, completely oblivious to Steve and all the things he wanted to do to you.

Ariana was trilling and whooping and hyping you up, and all Steve could offer was a nonchalant, wordless nod to her. How was he supposed to talk, or keep himself together when you were literally twirling around in front of him?

“Girl, you not even drunk,” you narrowed your eyes doubtfully at Ariana, who was in fact still stable on her feet.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

A brief pause between the two of you, the giddy anticipation budding between you before you both girlishly squealed,

“Birthday shots!”

Steve cursed himself as you and Ariana made a bee-line for the kitchen and you beckoned him to come with you. Drunk you meant tonight was going to be even harder for him. Steve decided he might as well match you if this was what was going to happen.

Five shots in, you, Steve and Ariana were drunker than a donkey’s ass. Ariana had gone full birthday girl mode, climbing up on the countertop in the center of the kitchen and dancing with the vigor you would expect from a drunk twentysomething. You were safe on the ground, cheering her on until your voice went sore, and then you did the unthinkable. Before Steve could stop you, you had removed your shoes, tossed them to the side and climbed up on the kitchen counter, nearly crashing into Ariana before you joined her in dancing. Steve couldn’t tell what song was playing, only that the bass was bumping and that it was so loud, but not loud enough to cover the cheers and heckling you two were getting from your onlookers. It was all fun and games, sure, but when you started to sway your hips and dance against Ariana, it was like Steve lost himself.

Everything around him that wasn’t you was starting to blend, his vision a vignette blur with you as the sole focus. He couldn’t decide between being territorial over the fact that you were dancing like that in front of everyone or if he should just stand back and appreciate the show you were giving him. Drunk as he was, his senses got the best of him and he was focused primarily on your safety. Both of you had nearly slipped off the table twice, so now Steve was beckoning you to come down. You couldn’t hear him at first, but when you finally noticed him, you pouted and shook your head.

“Stevie, I’m having fun!” you babbled, throwing your hands up defiantly3 in the air and back down against your sides. “Girls just wanna have fun? Ever heard of it!”

“Baby, you gotta get down,” Steve insisted, even though he couldn’t deny that you were cute like this, drunk and carefree and bratty. He was just scared to death that you were going to fall, or that you might be embarrassed in the morning.

“No!” you squealed, laughing as you kept dancing, to the delight of other partygoers who were just as plastered as you were. “Let me live my life! I’ll only be young once!”

“Okay, that’s enough, YN,” Steve said, trying to sound as serious as he could. You turned to him and for a moment he thought you were going to come down, but then you reached your arms out to him and started trying to pull him up to dance with you.

“C’mon Stevie, dance with me!” you chirped, a big goofy smile on your face, your eyes round and wide.

He chuckled, shaking his head. It didn’t help that everyone else was chanting and trying to get him to let loose too. You were just so sexy, he truly did want to, but he knew better.

“YN, I’m serious!” he warned, but you ignored him, still tugging relentlessly at his hand.

Frustrated now, Steve rolled his eyes as he took your hand, but instead of getting on the counter with you, he pulled you off with gentle ease, folding you over his shoulder while his hands gripped the backs of your legs. You whined loudly, pounding your fists against his back and kicking your feet as the crowd playfully booed Steve. He motioned his free hand downwards in the air as if to tell everyone to settle down, apologizing flippantly,

“I know, I know. Sorry, show's over.”

Steve grabbed your shoes and then walked over to the living room, trying to keep his balance as he set you on the floor finally. You hobbled just a bit and then snatched the heels away from him, putting them back on so angrily it was almost comical. Steve was watching you with a satisfied smile on his face, amused by how upset you were at making you get down from the table.

“I was really in my groove over there!” you complained, pushing against Steve’s chest.

“I know, baby, I know, you did great.”

Still frowning, you inched towards him, your indignant facade fading with each step you took. Steve knew that look in your eyes from anywhere. It was the look you gave him when you were about to finesse whatever you wanted from him. That low, doe-eyed gaze slightly upward through your long lashes. A small ghost of a smile perched upon those thick, glossy lips, almost a smirk. You reached your hand out, touching his chest, your voice low and husky but still audible over the music.

“Would you rather I was dancing on you like that? Is that it, Stevie, hmm?” you implored, your voice lilted and almost taunting.

Steve swallowed. He had been wanting to fuck you all day, especially the minute you put that dress on. Now, there was no telling what he might do. Steve’s eyes, filled with a burning desire, slowly traveled from your lips to your eyes. That liquor was hitting especially hard right now.

You bit down gently on your lip and turned around slowly, gracefully, your head turned back so you could whisper into Steve’s ear, while you elongated your agitating tease against him, slowly starting to sway your hips into him. Your ass was directly against his dick and you made sure of that, feeling it lift slightly each time you backed up into him and snaked your body side to side. Steve’s hand flung to your hip and his grip was firm and almost harsh. He was practically melting into you, his lips dropped slightly open in pure lust.

“You want me to dance on you like this, right?”

“Hell yes,” Steve nearly moaned, nevermind the other people in the room, who were also dancing just like this with their beau of the night.

You took it a step further, wrapping your hand around his neck and digging your fingers into his hair, giving it the slightest pull. This time, he really did moan, quietly into your ear. You knew he would— as picky as Steve was about his hair, the one time he didn’t mind getting it messed up was when you were pulling it. He was rock hard against you now, and it was like you were purposefully pressing up harder against him because of that.

“I can feel how hard you are. You know, that is just so inappropriate, Stevie, I mean real-”

You were toying with him, but before you could even finish your sentence, Steve had torn away from you and was grabbing your hand, pulling you along with him until he found a room that was empty. It was the bathroom right on this floor, in plain sight of all the partygoers, but he didn’t give a fuck. He was going to have you, and he was going to have you now. You’d been teasing him all night, with glimpses of your long legs, the sight of your dress riding up your thighs when you sat down, watching you constantly smear gloss on your lips, the way you smelled… and he had to endure it all— enough was enough.

He closed and locked the door with superhuman swiftness, and the light turned on viciously bright in contrast with the dim lighting of the party.

“Steve, what are you—”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he practically growled, pulling you close to him and crashing his lips against yours. Though you were caught off guard, you kissed him back just as hard. His longing, open mouth, the way his tongue crashed against yours and the firm grip he had on your hips let you know just how long he’d been waiting to do this, and the way you kissed him back was as if to tell him he was finally going to get it.

You pulled away first, breathless, laughing slightly against Steve’s lips,

“I’m the stupid one? You just pulled us into the bathroom. Everyone’s gonna know what we’re doing.”

“They can watch for all I care,” Steve replied dismissively. The thought made the heat rise in your cheeks and caused your eyes to widen slightly, a reaction which Steve noted, even in his drunken haze. He cocked his head mischievously to the side, the smirk on his face uncontrollable. “But maybe you’d like that.”

You giggled nervously, turning your head to the side so you didn’t have to face him,

“You’re such an idiot.”

Steve pulled you back in, starting to pepper kisses along your neck. His hand, big and strong, found its way to your ass and he squeezed through the fabric of your dress, making you throw your head back slightly. A pleased moan echoed from your lips into his ears, which were ringing with the sound of the loud, unforgiving desire he felt for you.

“Fuck, let me have you baby,” he moaned raggedly, his lips hung open against your neck. You simply moaned in response, hardly picking up on what he was saying because you were in so much pleasure, racked by the idea of being watched or heard.

“Can I have you baby?” he asked, this time with his lips pressed to your ear. “Right here?”

“Fuck, Steve,” you pressed yourself up against him. “You… you want me right now?”

You were breathless, you could barely talk while Steve pressed kisses all along your neck and your jawline. The sensation was heavenly, intensified by the liquor, so sweet and so brisk they made your pussy throb with want.

“Mm hm,” Steve hummed into your neck, the vibrations traveling up your spine.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, Steve,” you replied, your voice ragged with bliss. All he had to do was touch you and you were crumbling into tiny little pieces, putty in his hands. “Want you to fuck me right here— fuck— while we’re at this party.”

Your mouth became ten times dirtier when you were drunk, but so did Steve’s, so he knew exactly how to match your energy and then some. But it was clear he was in charge here, and he made sure you knew it. A fact that only made your thighs squeeze together even more with need.

“That’s a good girl,” he smiled, leaning in for another kiss on the lips, relishing in the way your lip gloss tasted on his tongue.

His cock was practically thumping against you, and he could feel your core pulse against his thigh, you were practically dry humping his leg without even realizing it. He kissed you deeply, his mouth melding with yours. One hand cupped your chin and the other traveled between your legs, brushing against the fabric of your dress before it reached your center. He closed his hand over your mound, feeling how wet you were, counting how many times you pulsed into his hand. A high pitched moan slid out of your mouth into his mouth as you pulled away, watching a string of spit break between the two of you. Your face was twisted up in pleasure— he was rubbing your clit through your underwear with two fingers, keeping perfect eye contact with you as he did so.

“How do you want me?” you asked, so needy he almost wanted to deny you for the fuck of it, but he couldn’t do that to you or to himself.

“Gonna put you on the sink, sweet girl,” he replied, wrapping his hands around you and tapping your ass, signaling for you to wrap your legs around him. You did just that, and Steve placed you on the edge of the sink. He held you a bit as you wobbled to orient yourself, laughing slightly.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Steve couldn’t help himself, he had to say it. As horny as he was, you truly were his princess. All he cared about was treating you right at the end of the day, in any way he could express that.

“You’re beautiful too, Stevie,” you smiled. “Why am I on the sink, I thought you were gonna fuck me.”

Steve almost laughed at the impatience hiding beneath your well-meaning question, his eyes glimmering with a deviant sparkle.

“Wanna taste my sweet girl.”

You bit down on your lip, the twinkle of anticipation shining bright in your eyes as they followed Steve’s path to the ground. He lowered himself down until he was on his knees, just face to face with your core, and he took his lip in between his teeth with the kind of want you could only describe as ravenous. It was a wonder he hadn’t torn all your clothes off you already. But perhaps it was because he wanted to fuck you in that dress, not waste it.

“Been wanting to taste that pussy all night,” Steve whispered, lips pressed tenderly to your knee, splaying sweet kisses up your legs and thighs.

You sighed, your head falling back with bliss, letting go of everything and just letting Steve’s minimal touches take over. He decorated your body with small kisses against your inner thighs and light brushes of his hands, but you felt everything as if it had been multiplied by ten. Not only did the liquor have your pussy throbbing and ten times wetter than usual, but anything Steve did turned you on, whether you were sober or not.

So you were already a mess by the time he had fully pushed your dress up past your waist and pulled your panties down, leaving them in a disarray on the floor somewhere beside him. The cool air breezed past your wet pussy and you sucked in a sharp, surprised moan, which was complemented by a deep groan that rose from somewhere way down in Steve’s body.

“My God, YN, you are so fucking wet— shit,” Steve hissed, unable to hide the wonder in his voice. He reached out two thick fingers and ran them up your slit, collecting all the slick that had pooled at your center and threatened to drip onto the sink counter. You let out a strangled mewl at the feeling, and looked down at Steve with wobbly eyesight and a screwed up face. “Could probably fuck you right now, fuck… don’t even need to eat you out. Look how wet you are, baby.”

He reached his hand up, pressing his fingers against your lips and gesturing for you to taste. You wrapped your lips around his fingers, an act so salacious it nearly made him come in his pants. You made sure to suck the taste of yourself clean from his fingers, torturously slow while you made relentless eye contact with him.

“Such a dirty fucking slut, you like tasting yourself on my fingers?”

“Yes, Steve, please,” you panted, teetering dangerously close to the edge of begging.

“Please what?”

“Steve,” you grumbled, swaying your legs against him.

“No, no, you wanted to be a tease all night long. So tell me what you want me to do to you,” Steve commanded, knowing deep down that it was taking everything in him not to dive headfirst into your pussy and shake his head in it. “C’mon, use your words.”

“I want… want you to eat my pussy right here on this sink and ma-make me cum on your face, please, Steve. Feel how much I need you,” you moaned raggedly, grabbing his wrist harshly and pulling his hand back to your core, guiding his fingers sloppily against your center so they were rubbing against your clit and dipping dangerously into your slit. You threw your head back with closed eyes and moaned, “Mmm.”

Steve felt like this was a fucking fever dream. You looked so hot like this, already in shambles despite how little he had touched you, controlling his hand and dictating your pleasure. He practically growled to himself as he tore his hand out of your grip and shoved his face quite literally face first into your pussy, muttering just loud enough for you to hear. You couldn’t help it and you shrieked out the minute you felt his tongue press flat against your pussy, covering your clit and your pulsating slit, then lick up with unforgiving speed and hard pressure.

Not to mention Steve’s hands were gripping into your thighs, keeping them spread apart because already you were threatening to close them in around his head. So as leeway, your hand sprung down to the back of his head and you pushed his face further into your core, squeezing at his hair and eliciting a moan from him that sent a tantalizing vibration through your whole body. He kitten licked your whole pussy and sucked at your clit, alternating between the two and leaving open mouthed kisses against your pussy. He loved tasting you, it was like you were pouring straight onto his tongue and he was lapping it up like a starved predator.

You let out a strangled moan, grinding your hips uncontrollably against Steve’s face, your thighs providing cushioning for the sides of his face as he dove inconsolably deep into your pussy, making a mess of his own face and your pussy all at once.

You nearly banged your head against the mirror with how far you threw it back when Steve looked up at you with hooded eyes, drunk on the taste of you, infatuated with the sounds of your sweet moans. He’d been wanting to hear them all night and it had him ragingly hard, plus the possibility of getting caught had you both sweating with anticipation.

When Steve pulled back, his lips were glistening but his eyes were completely dark, they’d lost any trace of playfulness. Even in your haze, legs twitching and your pussy absolutely throbbing, you knew you were done for. He didn’t keep his hands off of you, gripping harshly onto your thighs and making direct eye contact with you.

“Get up,” he commanded.

Your eyes widened and you practically jumped off the sink, attempting to wiggle your dress down your legs, only for Steve to position himself right behind you, so you could feel his cock, poking aggressively through his jeans, on your bare pussy. You cried out involuntarily, the slightest friction against your soaking heat making you extremely susceptible to the utmost pleasure.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck this pussy,” you could hear Steve muttering— to you or to himself, you couldn’t tell, but the hunger in his tone was such a turnon, you found yourself grinding up against him as he rid himself hastily of his pants and his boxers.

You felt his cock spring out and giggled mischievously when it did. Steve wasted absolutely no time, placing a domineering hand on your back and forcing you to bend over, your hands collapsing on the edge of the tub in front of you. You barely even had time to steady yourself before he was pushing his cock right into you, already saying the dirtiest things for you specifically.

“All the way in, just like that,” he murmured. Steve had lost his resolve almost immediately, his mouth dropping slightly open the moment he found himself bottomed out inside of you. He knew he was going to come soon already. Everything was too much. Your ass up against him, your white dress bunched up at your sides, how wet you were, making it so easy for him to just slide right in. “You are… so fucking perfect.”

You were literally at a loss for words, and it was only just now that you let out a gasp of a moan, legs shaking from the force of Steve’s fat cock sliding into you with such ease, stretching you out with no prep. This man had you bent over in a bathroom at a party, and you’d do it again for him and more. He finally started to move, one hand resting firm on your ass and the other farther up your back. He was easing in and out of you so easily, it had him throwing his head back and groaning. The liquor didn’t help at all, he wanted to do everything to you.

“Ste-eve,” you choked out as he started to catch onto a pace, not too fast and not too slow but just right, your wet pussy making slick sounds each time he slid out of you and pushed back into you.

“Yeah, baby? You like that?” Steve asked, coming back down to Earth from the Heaven he’d briefly been transported to. “Like how easy this cock just fucking slides into you? How wet you are?”

It seemed that his own words were firing him up. He was starting to pick up the pace, and his hands on you were gripping even harder. Your ass was vibrating back onto his dick, making soft clapping noises that only the two of you could hear over the chatter and music outside. You dared to look back at him when you answered, your face screwed up with pleasure,

“Yes daddy, feels so fucking good, you feel so go— oh!”

You felt Steve’s hand come down harsh against your ass, a loud, strong slap that made your pussy squeeze involuntarily around his dick, making him bite his lip and moan deep in his throat. He couldn’t help himself now, his words started to flow spontaneously, sounding like the feverish confessions of desire of a man who’d waited far too long,

“You’re so fucking good, your pussy is so fucking good. Clapping back on my dick like a good little girl, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, I’m your good girl, I’m your good girl, Stevie. Make me your good girl, please?”

“Mhm,” Steve tilted his head slightly to get a better look at his cock disappearing inside your pussy, his strokes growing more languid and confident now as he set a fast, smooth pace. “Or maybe I’ll make you my little slut? Would you like that?”

You couldn’t respond because it felt like your chest was literally constricted, that was how deep Steve felt inside of you, how good his cock was making you feel. You were practically pressing your face against the edge of the tub now, unable to hold yourself up completely. Steve knew that face from anywhere, knew he was fucking you too good for you to speak, and he chuckled deviously, boyishly almost, a smug smile appearing on his face as he brought two hands to your ass and pushed you back against his dick. Your ass slapped against his mound and you were taking all of him, no ifs ands or buts. And he knew how to fill you up. He slapped your ass again, then resumed his torturously fast pace, becoming even rougher now, even harder.

He was laughing as he spoke, grinning so despicably,

“Yeah, you would love that, me making you my little slut, hmm? Making you— fuck– making you take my cock all day long? Is that what you want?”

Words continued to fail you, so all you could do was nod your head with your eyes screwed tight in pleasure. You knew you were close soon, and you could tell by the renewed feeling in your stomach that you were starting to cream on his dick. Steve didn’t miss a beat, looking down at his thick cock getting coated with your thick cream, down the shaft all the way to his balls, some of it painting your pussy and inner thighs as well. You moaned loudly, you could feel how wet you were between your legs and against the patch of hair on Steve’s mound.

“Fuck, that’s a good girl. You’re creaming all over my dick, you know that? Making a mess, baby,” Steve teased, and you nearly ran away when he sucked on his thumb and pressed it against your pussy, rubbing slow, deep circles.

“Fuck! Fuck, Steve!” you found the voice to shout, and the strength to start giving him hell too, making sure to bounce back forcefully on his cock as your pussy secreted onto his dick, leaving a circle shaped imprint around his shaft. He actually growled this time, watching your ass clap back against him, mesmerized by the motion it made each time, something like waves crashing against the shore.

His assault on your pussy grew harsher with each thrust, making salacious, wet slapping sounds that filled the room. He kept one hand on your pussy and the other gripped your ass tight, squeezing all that he could.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he grumbled, his teeth clenched as he watched the way you pushed back forcefully onto him. “You’re— fuck– so good for me, show me how good you feel getting fucked like this.”

He was becoming more breathless, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long. You were nearly crying, whimpering as you got fucked into oblivion.

“Make me come, daddy,” you begged, and that was the final push Steve needed to be able to keep driving into you, getting impossibly deeper as he shifted slightly to a new angle. You practically sobbed as you threw it back even harder now, feeling your orgasm come excruciatingly close as Steve placed both hands on your sides, holding you in place so you couldn’t run away from it, “Yes baby that’s it, that’s so fucking good, oh my god.”

“You’ve been teasing me all fucking night, I want you to come for me now. Go ahead, come all over my cock, baby, make a mess. Make a mess like you do,” Steve encouraged you, gathering up all his strength so his voice didn’t break as he too felt himself on the brink of exploding with pleasure. When he saw the way your eyes rolled back in your head he kept going, egging you, and quite honestly himself, on, “You look so fucking good getting fucked like this. Dressed like a little princess and getting fucked like a whore.”

You cried out as you found yourself coming undone, gushing all over his cock as you finally came. Steve chuckled darkly and through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm you could feel his hand coming down to smack your ass. You were depleted now, and Steve was using you, fucking into you so he could reach his end. You felt yourself start to twitch uncontrollably, moaning still as Steve fucked you through your orgasm. Breathlessly, you found enough strength to ask,

“You gonna come Stevie?”

“F-fuck, yes, yes baby, you feel so fucking good,” now it was Steve’s turn to whimper, losing sense of himself as he fucked sloppily into you. He drew back slightly and looked down, hands by his side, hips slapping clumsily against your ass and thighs. “God, you made a mess on my dick.”

“Yeah? I want you to make a mess in my pussy then, baby,” when you said that, Steve choked on the moan that came out of his mouth. His hips stuttered and with it came spurts of his cum thrusting into you, warm and filling and so much.

“Fuck YN, I’m coming,” he moaned, his mouth dropped open into an o-shape.

“There you go, baby, that’s it,” you grinned, finally catching your own breath and looking back at him, his face enveloped in pure ecstasy and pleasure as he let go inside of you.

He finished completely inside of you, slowing his sloppy thrusts as if to ensure you wouldn’t waste it. He pulled away sweaty and panting, but even through all of that he couldn’t help but bend down and kiss your asscheek, then pull away and swat at it. He helped you up, then zipped up his own pants, and you shimmied your dress down.

“Come here,” Steve beckoned you close, pulling you into him because right now all he wanted was to feel your warmth, feel all of you, and feel safe in your arms. You let him embrace you, and you buried your face in his chest. “You’re so fucking beautiful, YN.”

He pulled away, holding you by your shoulders.

“But never wear that dress again,” he warned you.

You giggled, shaking your head,

“Can’t make any promises, Stevie.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me. But I love it,” Steve grinned, matching your mischievous energy as always.

“I know, baby. Now come dance with me.”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things smut #stranger things x black reader #black reader

209 notes · View notes

sailor-peeking · 2 years

Text

Concept: Steve + S/o with a big Afro.

They're both obsessed with their hair. Living together would be insane.

Y/n, with wet hair: did you. Take. My wide tooth comb.

Steve,scared: ...no?

Y/n: HARRINGTON.

Y/n: you touch that curl cream you lose that hand.

Steve: I'm bored.

Y/n: ...

Steve: ...

Y/n: hair store?

Steve: hair store.

Y/n, in the car: honey are you ok today?

Steve: yeah I'm ok.

Y/n: it's just... your hair is a little...flat.

Steve: FLAT?!

Y/n: I've got hair spray in my bag. I gotcha, doll.

Y/n: what's are the rules Steve?

Steve: *mumbling*

Y/n: huh?! I. Can't. Hear. You.

Steve, LOUDLY: THE BIGGER THE HAIR THE BIGGER THE CONFIDENCE.

Y/n, LoudER: THE BIGGER THE HAIR THE BIGGER THE CONFIDENCE! AND?!

Steve: THE HIGHER THE HAIR THE CLOSER TO GOD!

Y/n: AMEN.

Steve: AMEN.

Dustin: I'm scared.

Steve, wearing y/n's bonnet: I feel pretty.

Y/n: you're gorgeous.

Bonus-

y/n: now give it back white man. 😒

Steve:

#sailor says something dumb #stranger things s4 #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #Steve Harrington incorrect quotes #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x black reader #black reader #stranger things x black reader #Steve harrington x afro babe #sailor presents: Steve Harrington x afro babe

769 notes · View notes

swiss-mrs · 1 month

Note

bestie… what does clubbing with goth and/or post-punk steve look like in your eyes? 👀 i would like to know

BESTIE

Not you opening the floodgates to us sending back and forth requests 🤭

Fun Lil #Swiss Fact: Back in Summer of 2021 my friends and I were trying to club/bar hop in a city/state we weren't familiar with and after 3 failed attempts (including crashing some rando's all-white party [I was in head to toe black]) we stumbled into a goth club and had the time of our lives.

I was in my little big titty goth girl era, so I just so happened to be in perfect dress code LMAO. This request has singlehandedly removed me from my pop girly mode and straight back into 80s/90s alt girl.

Haunted Haus

Steve Harrington x Goth Club Owner!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Good Music ✌️🤪, Steve-isms (some bad flirting, not so discreet looking, but also some not well hidden nerves), a lil angst👀, a single, '90s reference (just ignore), Reader being an absolute goddess.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing, No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "madame", Bodily Descriptions kept minimal/gn

Synopsis: Steve may be in a chokehold by the abundance of hot goth girls in media rcently and decides to indulge in the dark and alternative scene irl.

××××💀❤️💀💀❤️💀💀❤️💀××××

Steve sat in the driver's seat of his BMW, gripping and twisting his hands around the wheel. The car sits stagnant in the grassy parking lot as minutes pass. "Come on, Harrington. You got this." Steve says for the millionth time, this time finally releasing a hand from the poor steering wheel to reach up for the review mirror, abruptly adjusting it to make eye contact with himself. "You got this." He uses his other hand to point at his reflection. Steve drops his hands to his lap as his gaze is taken from himself and to the paper sitting on the passenger's seat.

It was a flyer he'd stumbled across, or more accurately Robin stumbled across.

"I found the perfect thing for you." She burst through the door, taking Steve off-guard. He gave her a skeptical look, shifting his weight to one side, not really amused.

"And what is that, I ask regrettably."

"Ooo, that's a big word." Robin quips back a little too easily, causing Steve to roll his eyes, but Robin pays no mind as she averts her gaze to the paper in her hand.

"Haunted Haus, Goth Night." She flips the paper around to shove the front side in Steve's face. He jerks back, just out of reach. "Found this little baby." Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes adjust to try and read the text on the paper being held far too close to his face. "This may be your chance to find you a Hex Girl." Steve snatches the paper from her grip and gives her an unimpressed look, but Robin remains unfazed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter with a smug look.

Steve props himself on one hand as he leans his weight against the counter with one foot crossed in front of the other. He looks down at the paper in his hands, reading off the provided information and address. "Isn't that the old creepy church looking building?"

"Yeah, the one right outside of town." Robin confirms. "I did a little investigating, and turns out someone bought the cursed thing and turned it into an 'unconventional' night club." She replied, lifting a hand to place air quotes. Steve huffs in response. "As far as I've heard, it's pretty underground but also pretty popular."

"Oh yeah? And who have you heard that from?" He raises a brow, looking over invisible glasses over at Robin. She scoffs in offense.

"I have my sources." She rolls her eyes at Steve's continuous skeptical look. "Look, you obviously still aren't having much luck here, and now that you've officially developed an interesting niche," Steve scoffs again and rolls his eyes at her subtle jab. "I'm just trying to help."

"Where did you even find this?" Robin stands up straight and shrugs.

"Sources." She replies nonchalantly.

Steve lets out a huge sigh before ripping off his seatbelt and throwing the car door open.

As soon as Steve's white nikes hit the field and he stood to full height, it was like the cool night sucked all the warm air from his lungs. He stares up at the gothic structure ahead of him. Even from the back of the lot, you could hear the music flooding from the open doors. It was quite shocking to see the number of people attending, at least to Steve. There was no way there was this many people in Hawkins who were into this scene.

Steve stepped away from his car just enough to close and lock the doors behind him, beginning his tread to the club. The closer he got to the front door, the more he started to feel his heart thump against his chest. He's no stranger to parties by any means, but all his experience was exclusive to house parties and school dances. Since graduation, he honestly fell out of the party scene almost completely. He wasn't in college, and the thought of attending a high school party after graduation made him cringe. This was an exciting new venture for him.

Just as he clears the last row of cars, he gets a good view of the small crowd just outside the doors. People who, outside of their clothing and makeup choices, seemed like unlikely friends. People of all races, ethnicities, and statures all gathered together. It was odd to Steve to see such diversity, but it was refreshing.

He suddenly became a little self-conscious by his own outfit choice. Though he was in the standard all black getup, he was severely lacking the accessories, leather, and/or face paint, and it became extremely obvious as soon as he cleared the lot.

Resting on the doors of the entrance was a scary looking man and a brutish, equally scary looking woman. The man leaning against the left door was tall, a whole head above Steve. His arms were crossed, showcasing the muscle on muscle he was packing. His unamused, grey eyes pierced through Steve with one simple glance. There was no telling how he was able to keep going, but the striking gaze didn't stop Steve's body from moving forward.

Just as his foot met the cement of the sidewalk, the lady on the right side, nearly equal in height to Steve, took as step forward and held her hand up. Steve’s eyes met her green ones. Steve stopped in his tracks, waiting for the woman to speak first. Before she uttered a word, Steve could see her eyes track up and down his body with a keen gaze. "You here solo?" Her deep southern accent through Steve off.

"Yes." He dares to glance back and forth between her and the guy to the left. Once Steve's eyes land back on her, he lifts his chin in fake confidence. "I am." The woman's eyes squint slightly, seeing right through his confident facade. Steve's eyes flit back to the man to find steel eyes staring back with their ever-present empty glare.

"You won't be causing any trouble now, will ya, son?" She asks, bringing Steve's attention back to her. He raises a confused brow. Why is he being singled out? His eyes nervously bounce around.

"No? I'm just here for the..." He trails, gesturing to the lively club behind them. "Why? Do I look like trouble?" His confusion slightly over taken by his sassy tone. The woman steps aside and gestures toward the club.

"G'on." She says before stepping back to her 'post' by the door. Steve stands in place for a few more seconds, still a little thrown off by the interaction. The woman gives him a look as if to dare him to test her patience, and Steve takes that as a sign to get moving.

Steve cautiously walks through the doors, side-eyeing both bodies occupying the entrance, the man's eyes following him. Steve begins to question what he's gotten himself into.

Once he's officially inside, the lights and music are quick to overwhelm his senses. It's dark within the confines of the building, but the red strobe lights cast an intimate, sensual, almost sinister glow over everything. "Nice hair." A voice just barely over the music brings Steve out of his trance. He looks towards the voice to find a short woman behind a pedestal with a raised brow. Her hair was dyed black with short bangs and curled wisps of short layers just above her shoulders. Her skin was as pale as the moon, and her nails were chipped and painted red. "$3.00"

Steve stared at her as he fished in his pocket for the cash. Thankfully, he remembered to check the entry price on the flyer before leaving home. He plops the bills into her outstretched hand before receiving a short nod as an 'OK for entry'.

Steve walks further in, stopping at the top of the short set of stairs that lead down to the main floor. Being slightly above gave him a slight vantage point to get a quick scope of the club. Again, what did he get himself into?

Steve took each step one at a time, pausing on each one as he looked around. There was nothing but black clothing and flowing fabrics on the dance floor, limbs moving in every direction to the mixture of synth, bass, and fast drums. A few years ago, Steve would've viewed this crowd as a bunch of weird freaks in a derogatory sense, but now, Steve just sees the opitome of freedom.

Steve cringes at the thought of his younger self. If only he was as carefree and comfortable to just be himself from the beginning, instead of being so judgemental and close-minded, maybe he could look back fondly at his youth. Well, no time like the present. He buried those thoughts and moved forward, deciding to plant himself at the bar for starters.

Moving through the crowd, he had to dodge arms and legs. Most of those dancing were doing so with their eyes closed, truly doing so as if no one was watching. His head was on a swivel as he walked, not only to make sure he didn't accidentally get hit but also cause he had this itching feeling of being watched.

Steve looked over his shoulder towards the door, but neither the 'security team' nor the wispy haired girl were paying him any attention. He continued to look around the crowd. Maybe someone from town was there and spotted him, but no. He couldn't find eyes on him anywhere.

Shaking off the feeling, he gets to the half empty bar and leans one elbow on the bartop. He looks over to a girl just a seat down from him with gel spiked bangs and a messy, half updo similar to Elvira's. Just as she's handed her drink, she turns and makes quick eye contact with Steve. He tilts his chin up at her with a slight grin, but it must've not been as smooth as he had hoped cause all it did was get him a once over and eye roll in return as she walked away sipping through her straw.

Steve doesn't drop his grin until she's disappeared back into the crowd, and the bartender addresses him. He orders his usual before turning away from the bar and leaning back on his elbows, scoping out the club again. He sighs.

"Just don't pull that same cheesy crap you try on the girls that unfortunately find themselves here." Robin says.

"Hey, it's not-"

"'That bad.' Yes. Yes, it is, Steve. It IS that bad, and quite frankly, it's just as hard to watch." She deadpans. Steve scoffs, offended, shifting his weight as his eyes look around, trying to find a rebuttal.

Steve scoffs out a short laugh, shaking his head at himself. He doesn't know how or why, but ever since Nancy, it just seems like he's lost all 'game', and that loss is really not helping when it comes to moving on once and for all.

The bartender returns, setting the glass down next to Steve, causing him to turn and rest his forearms on the bartop. They exchange nods before the bartender goes back to work, and Steve takes his first sip. Soon, Steve finds himself getting lost in the liquid contained within the glass.

Was he ever really as 'smooth' as he thought? He never seemed to have such an issue with 'charm' before, but then again, he was never really himself back then. Not since her. He was always able to seamlessly put on this charismatic, flirty facade before. Everything he did was the same persona that won her over. When he let it falter, she left him, but now that he's trying that guy back on, it doesn't fit quite right anymore.

A part of him should be grateful that he's found a friend group that is willing to accept him for himself, all his good and bad, his true self, but when it comes to his love life, he can't help but wish he could be that guy again. He's been alone for so long now, and it's lonely.

He just wants someone again. In the beginning, that someone could've been anyone, but the more time he's spent alone, the more he's started to think he couldn't take that someone just being anyone. The idea of him 'peaking in high school' scared the ever loving shit out of Steve.

His fingers fiddle with his glass, spinning it round and round in his hand. He glances down at his fingers through the glass, metal reflecting through. Shit.

His heart suddenly feels heavy at the thought of his fallen friend. Steve retracts his hand slightly from the glass to stare down at the ring on his index finger, a thick silver skull. If only he could see him now. As if he could hear his laugh, Steve turns his head to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he saw that cheesy grin staring back at him, but he's instead met with a row of empty seats. Steve furrows his brows. If Eddie were here, he would've loved this.

Steve lets out a humorless huff of a chuckle through his nose. He wants to laugh at the thought, but it just feels heavy knowing he's not here to actually enjoy it.

Before Steve can get too deep in his head, he feels an odd sense to look behind him, so he does. He turns his head to glance over his shoulder, only to be caught in awe. Just opposite from him was the woman of his dreams walking down a flight of stairs, staring in his direction. Jesus, you were gorgeous. He couldn't tell if you were actually staring right through his soul or just so happened to look towards the bar.

Adorning your body was a long black dress with a slit up the side, stopping at the top of your thigh. Your legs were covered with sheer black stockings that had delicate, intricate lace patterns. The leather of your black corest reflected the red lighting, absolutely sinful. Though your dress was lowcut, your neck, shoulders, and arms were covered in a black lacy fabric that flowed out at your wrists. Your red bottom, black heels topping off your entire look.

You stalked down the staircase with a dark elegance that could move mountains. You are the definition of the kind of woman men would go to war for. You must be the queen of the underworld if there is one, and God, did Steve feel some type of way about it.

Unlike Steve, the sea of bodies seemed to unconsciously part ways for you as your eyes locked in on Steve. Steve was the only one in this very spot at the bar. There was no other logical reason for you to be looking that direction besides looking at him, but he still left as if he was not the object of your gaze, not even when you were standing right in front of him.

"Nice hair." Steve scoffed. If he had a nickel for every time he- Oh God, you're on the move again. You maneuver to step around him and claim your spot next to him at the bar. Steve watches you place your 'usual', getting a 'Yes, madame' in response. Steve can't help but raise a brow slightly at the formality, but his face drops when you turn back to face him. "You're obviously," your up and down gaze burns through Steve's skin. "New."

Steve suddenly feels as if he was standing naked in front of you. He'd been 'once-overed' at least four times since he's gotten here, but your eyes make him question if he actually remembered to put on his clothes. When there's a bit of a silence between you two, Steve clears his throat to try and regain his voice. "That obvious?" He holds a slight grin on his lips, but his eyes bounce around nervously, a dead give away of his true inner turmoil.

You raise an amused brow, "Well, to be fair, we don't get many well-tailored suit jackets and non-distressed jeans, but the all-black is at least a start." A glass is placed at your side as you finish your sentence. You give the bartender a quick smile and a thank you before he nods and moves on. Steve's hand self-consciously goes to tug at the lapel of his jacket. He tries to think of a witty, charming come back, but you continue before his mind can catch up. "So, are you here to find a girl to fulfill a fetish, or are you finally coming out of the suburbian closet?" You bring the glass up to your mouth. Steve tries to answer but is too focused on your red colored lips around your straw.

"I, uh," he clears his throat, looking away. He hopes you didn't, but you definitely caught him staring. "The second one." You let out a small giggle.

"Well, that's better than the former, I guess." It's a little bit of both, but Steve would be damned if he admitted that aloud. "Let me guess. Popular boy in high school, couldn't be caught being 'weird'?" You tilt your head in a way that Steve couldn't help but feel was both a bit condescending and also adorable.

"Right on the nose." He leans his forearms on the bartop again, grasping his glass in both hands to discreetly try and cool his sweaty palms. You lean on the bar right next to him. The scent of you overwhelms his nose, replacing the stench of alcohol, evermore heady and dizzying. The fight against gravity had never been so tough on his knees.

"Cute." You state simply, bringing your straw back to your lips and taking another sip. Steve looks over at you, a bit shocked. He was completely ousted from the crowd around him. He's the outsider here. The one trying and failing to fit in. He didn't think this whole 'loser boy' thing would be what got him brownie points, but to hell with it. If it works, it works.

"So," He leans up a little bit to adjust himself to face you, leaning more prominently on only one arm. "Are you a regular here?"

Your brows raise, "Repackaging 'come here often', I see?" There wasn't much room between that sentence and the next, but it was just enough for Steve's stomach to drop to his stomach, already feeling the rejection incoming, but it didn't come. "You could say that." You shrug nonchalantly. "It is a nice space and all." You add. "I haven't seen you in these parts." You shoot back a bit more dramatized, fully leaning into the cheesy line delivery.

Steve looks around, nodding and fixing his jaw as if he got caught red-handed for something. "Touché." A smug grin grows on your lips as you take another sip of your drink. He turns back to look at you, you already holding eye contact. He swallows down the saliva that builds on sight. "This is my first time here, first time at a party type event in a long while, actually." He admits.

"Well, I'm glad I could be here for your first time." You reply seamlessly, fully aware of the innuendo. Steve huffs out a chuckle. His face warms both at the thought of what you're insinuating but also at the slight embarrassment of it all. "Tell me. Are you here because you like the music or is it something else?" The way you adjust yourself has Steve screaming 'something else' in his head, his eyes following your every movement as you turn.

"The music." He replies shortly, still checking you out. He blinks away, trying to control his wandering eyes. He clears his throat, "A... friend of mine was really into heavy metal, and one rabithole after another landed me here." You hum out a response, nodding to confirm your understanding.

"Too heavy for you?" You quip back. Steve scoffs out another laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his glass, a few strands off hair falling into his face.

"I guess you could say that. It wasn't bad, just wasn't quite my vibe." He glances over at you, finding your eyes oh so easily once more. "This fit me better." A genuine, intrigued smile slowly grows on your face.

"So, is your friend here with you tonight?" You already could tell he came here solo, but you couldn't help but ask for confirmation. As soon as you did, though, something in his eyes changed, that little glimmer that was barely there to begin with was stomped out like a dying ember. Steve pauses a second before responding.

"No." You immediately regretted bringing up what must be a sore topic. "He, uh, he couldn't make it." Your smile long faded, but you couldn't stop your brows from quirking up slightly in curiosity.

"That's too bad." You say with a slight kind smile, trying to lighten things up. "Maybe come back next Friday, Metal night." Your smile widens hopefully with your suggestion. It brings a small one to Steve's lips but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe." And you both leave it at that. A few beats go by before you try and change the subject.

"Well, since this is your first time and all," you start, leaning in on the two words with a small brow wiggle. "Would you like to dance?" Your question seems to throw Steve through a loop. You just asked him to dance?

"I, uh, yeah! Sure, of course." He stumbles a little, but overall excited, trying to play it cool. His little 'nonchalant, cool guy' facade fighting with his seemingly more natural 'playful and charming' attitude causes you to squint with a knowing smile. It's a bit comical how you can see right through him.

You finish the remainder of your drink by omitting the straw and drinking from the glass. Once the glass is placed back on the counter and stained red with lipstick, you grab his hand and start leading him away from the bar.

You don't get too far before your path is interrupted by the towering, grey eyed man from the front door. Steve's heart weighs down on his stomach at the sight of the man. He just looks like he could kill. "Pardon the intrusion, madame." His deep Australian accent cuts through. Steve furrows his brows in confusion once more at the reoccurring formality. "There is a matter that requires your attention. It won't take up much of your time." You look up at the man who looms over you even in your heels. You sigh.

"I will be right there." You reply. He takes a step back to give you space, but maintains a close enough distance to lead you away once you're ready. You turn to Steve with an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry. Would you mind giving me just a moment?" Steve is a bit stunned.

"Yeah, sure..." He trails, confused. You give him a smile.

"Save me that dance, will you?" He melts at your smile, thoughts clearing of any and everything just at the sight. He nods mindlessly. Your smile grows in return before you release his hand and turn to follow that security guard who came for you.

Steve watches you leave and can't stop himself from looking you up and down. Once you're out of sight, Steve makes his way back to the bar, returning his grip back to his sweating glass.

×××

Just as you said, you wouldn't take long, but the few minutes Steve had to wait felt like an eternity until you arrived back beside him. "I'm so sorry. You ready for that dance?" Steve stood up straight and turned to face you. Every time you appeared, it was like a God sent. You were ethereal in a way that Steve couldn't quite put into words.

"Y-yeah." But he made no move to get to the dance floor. You close the distance between you both until you're toe to toe. You cock your head to the side, silently questioning him. His heart feels like it'll beat out of his chest, the air wafting your scent straight back into his brain. "Why does everyone keep calling you 'madame'?" He manages to get out. He's not sure that was the question he meant to ask, but that's what came out. You sigh, pouting like you've been caught.

"Fine, I guess that cat's out of the bag." You shift your weight to jut out one hip. "I'm the owner of this place." Steve's brows shoot up. He wasn't expecting that. Maybe a manager or something, but the owner?

"You're the owner?" He repeats the question outside of his own mind. You let out a soft chuckle, grinning proudly.

"The one and only." After a few stunned seconds coming from Steve's end, you reach out for his hand again, stepping back and pulling him with you, leaving his now empty glass behind. You gently guide him away from the bar once more before turning to properly lead him to the dance floor.

Steve's mind floods with more follow-up questions and conversation starters, but there you go again, 'walking away' though with him in tow. His eyes find themselves glancing over your figure again. He wants to continue a conversation with you, to get to know you and all other secrets you're hiding, but as soon as you're away from the safe haven that is the bar, music overpowers all other noises on the dance floor.

You settle on a good spot for you and Steve, ample room for the both of you, but also a safe spot to be experimental, not really knowing if he has any dancing experience. The look you give him forcefully removes the air from his lungs. You start moving and flowing to the beat effortlessly, keeping your movements tame and fluid. Steve's eyes follow your hands as they run up your thighs, your hips, your waist, and eventually in the air.

At first, he's left there just watching you dance, but the show doesn't last too long before he feels your hands on his, pulling him close to follow your movements with his body. He slowly joins in with gentle swaying of his hips with yours, leaving his hands where you placed them, at the base of your waist. You allow your arms to move freely, the fabric of your sleeves flowing along with them. You throw your head back, allowing the music to take over.

The whining of your waist and gentle roll of your shoulders sparks electricity through Steve as he stares down at your body in all its glory. He can't stop the heat from rising within him.

Eventually, your eyes return to him and force his gaze to meet them. You give him a look before bringing your arms down gently to caress the sides of his neck and face. Steve couldn't pinpoint if it was the dancing, the alcohol, or you causing him to sweat so damn much.

You reach a hand up to run through the front of his hair, pushing his damp bangs out of the way. His eyes flutter to look down at your red lips, painfully watching the way they smirk. You tug on his hair, causing his head to get thrown back a bit. His eyes close, and his mouth falls open, and he has to fight the urge to moan at the feeling.

He continues to sway to the music with his eyes closed and head thrown back, just as you commanded, and as predicted, it had the exact effect you wanted. He gets lost in the music, lost in the moment.

Steve was instantly knocked into a state of bliss. He felt equally invincible and nonexistent. Nothing could hurt him. He was just here with you. Nothing else mattered. A weight was lifted off his shoulders that had been weighing down for so long he forgot it was even there. Now that it was gone, he felt weightless, like he would float away if you weren't there to ground him, if his grip on your hips loosened, if your hands on his neck left him. He was in pure euphoria.

Steve couldn't tell you how long you two stayed that way or how many songs passed, but suddenly, the tempo slowed, and the music quieted slightly. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, tilting his head down to no longer be thrown back. As soon as his head was facing forward, those pesky strands of hair flopped down again. Steve's eyes remained closed, so when you reached to run your hands through his hair again, the feeling of your fingers against his scalp felt like they were massaging directly against his brain. He felt lightheaded at the touch.

"What's your name?" Even through the ringing of his ears from the unknown stretch of loud music, your voice still flooded in as if you were speaking directly into his mind.

"Steve." He replies softly, not ready to leave his nirvana. You smile softly.

"Steve." You repeat. He was fine until you said his name. Now, he wasn't too sure how long before his legs gave out from beneath him. "Regrettably, the night is coming to an end." At this Steve's eyes open, though remaining half lid.

His eyes bore into yours, causing your soft smile to widen. You tilt your head as if trying to get a better look at his eyes beneath his eyelids. His eyes open up a bit wider at your small action. He looks away from you to let his eyes wander the room.

The dance floor has half the amount of people on it. The bartender is wiping down the bar top and glasses, and the two security guards are talking with the wispy haired girl towards the front doors. You move your hand higher on his cheek to grab his attention.

His eyes take in your face like it's the first and last thing he'd ever see. It causes your heart to warm. "Will I see you again, Steve?" Your voice melts through him. His lips part as he nods gently. His hazel eyes dance around your features with a small smile.

"I've never looked forward to anything more." Your soft laugh causes him to furrow his brows a little as he watches you.

"That was a good line." You approve. Steve scoffs, joining in with your soft laughs. He shakes his head, eyes bouncing around at nothing in particular before looking back to your eyes.

"It wasn't 'a line'." His eyes widen playfully as his grin widens, showing his teeth. "I mean it." His gaze goes from your eyes down to your lips. His head shakes again, hair bouncing as his small antic repeats itself. "You're quite honestly the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I would really like to get to know you." You give him a genuine smile.

"You are quite the charmer, aren't you?" By now, it's only you and Steve left on the dance floor, the last stranglers leaving out the door, the music just loud enough to hear.

"Is it too much to ask for your number?" He raises his brows with a hopeful expression. You give him a big smile and drop your hands to grab his, leading him back over to the bar. You reach over the bartop to grab a napkin and a pen, writing down your phone number before slipping it into his breast pocket with a smile. Steve smirks, eyes dancing back and forth from your eyes to lips and back up.

A sharp whistle cuts through the venue, grabbing both yours and Steve's attention. The brutish, green eyed security guard waves her hand in a circle, signaling to 'wrap it up'. Steve turns back to you just in time to see your eyes roll in response. He bites back a smile, lifting an arm and offering his elbow. You loop your hand around his arm and begin walking with him to the door.

Just as you reach the entrance/exit, the three employees leave from their posts, heading to the bar to give you both some space. "You better give me a call, cool guy." You raise a brow, releasing his arm to turn and face him properly with your chin held high. He gives you one of the most charming smiles you've ever seen, resting his hands on his hips. His brows quirk up again.

"You better answer, gorgeous." You fight your flustered expression with much difficulty, ultimately failing. You roll your eyes to try and cover up your inability to hold eye contact with him right now. You shake your head, turning slightly back to the inside of the club. You look at him through the corner of your eyes. He raises another teasing brow, awaiting a response. A beat passes before you close the gap between you, lifting your hand to capture his face, dragging his face to yours and planting a kiss on his lips.

Steve's eyes nearly pop out of his head the second he feels your lips on his. His eyes just begin to blink closed as you slowly pull away from the short-lived kiss. Steve chases after you, not wanting the contact to end. He couldn't remember the last time he had been kissed. He didn't realize how touch starved he truly was until you graced him with your touch.

"Goodnight, pretty boy." Steve’s eyes open back up to find you've made your way back inside, hands holding open the doors as you bid him farewell. Steve’s mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out, his eyes blown wide. All he can do is lift a hand to wave in response as you slowly close the doors.

"She sounds hot. Did you call her?" Robin asks, leaning over the counter with wide eyes. Steve scoffs with a sassy hand on his hip.

"Robin, I didn't get home until like 4am. I could just call her."

"Okay, well, that was Saturday. Today's Monday, and you still haven't called, dingus?!" She looks at him as if he's the biggest idiot in the world. He sputters a he tries to redeem himself.

"I'll call her today." Robin rolls her eyes, smacking her hand down on the stack of movies next to her before dragging them off the counter and into her hands.

"Whatever." She walks around the counter to get back to work. "It's the end of your shift. Clock out and give Morticia a call before I do." Steve's eyes follow her as she walks away until she rounds an isle and is no longer in view.

The entire drive home, Steve was racking through his brain thinking of different scenarios. "How was the rest of your weekend?... What's your favorite band?... How's owning a club like?" He talks to himself, practicing questions and answers. A part of him just wants to skip passed all the introductory questions and just get to the nitty gritty.

He craves to get to know you on a deeper level, on every level. He wants to share with you all his goals, all his fears. He wants to just spend more time with you. He yearns for your touch on his skin again, your hands on his neck, on his face, fingers in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, lips on his. He can't help but laugh at himself. He feels crazy. You've only met each other two days ago, and he's already aching for you.

He parks in the empty driveway, sighing. He's always been used to arriving to an empty home, but since graduation and his parent leaving him the house for his own, it has been even more lonely than before. He locks up the car and makes his way into the empty house. He hangs his keys on the hook by the door and makes a b-line to the phone.

Steve pulls out his wallet, taking out the folded up napkin he's been carrying around with him since Saturday. His heart races in his chest as he listens to the dialing, resting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he twirls the chord around his fingers. Just as he's about to give up and hang up with the phone, there's a distinct click of someone answering.

"Hello?"

×××

Hope you liked it, bestie☺️☺️😩 Not me making Steve a little hot and heavy in the club🥵

if it wasn't obvious, I'd do anything to run my hands through his hair 😩

💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black!reader

19 notes · View notes

tennisracketpacket · 2 years

Text

"𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐌𝐲 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮" - 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫!

author's note: this is a little bonus short story because I just rewatched Strangers Things. I haven't really been able to find any fanfics with Steve x Sinclair! so I decided to write my own. Hope you enjoy! <3

my masterlist

part two

warnings: kissing, cheesiness, cuteness, bad dance moves

word count: 1.5k

Steve Harrington is my boyfriend.

It sounded crazy even thinking it, but it was true, and it has been for the past seven months. Although he reassures me that he likes me as much as I like him. Still, my mind wonders how I managed to attain his affections. As I run my fingers through his brown locks with his head on my lap, which he only lets me touch his hair, my overthinking caused my mind to run a million miles per hour with uncertainty. Steve’s warm hand grasps mine that was entangled in his hair, bringing me back to reality.

“Hey, where’d you go?” He speaks in a low tone. “You're missing the best part,” He rotates so that he lays on his back, looking back up at me.

“Steve, how many times have we watched Jaws? Like ten times.” His brow furrowed and a frown formed on his face.

“We’ve only watched it five times, but it’s a classic.” I nod to appease him, playfully rolling my eyes. “But seriously, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Solemness clouds my living room. We’ve had the conversation before but I was still filled with doubts and wavering about our relationship. I shake my head no in response to his question. His hand lifts to cup my face and he gives me a soft smile.

“You’re cute when you lie,” He coos. I break the intense eye contact and cower away from him, flustered. “I love you,” He admits quietly. At first, I thought I heard him wrong and a puzzled look appears on my face. Steve changes positions once again and sits across from me on the couch. “I love you, Y/N Sinclair.” He repeats. The infamous Jaws music plays in the background of our conversation. “And you don’t have to say it back. I just want you to know.” He stutters.

“I love you,” I confess after a prolonged silence. “I have for a while now actually.” The reason I couldn’t grasp he was mine, was because of our high school lives.

Steve never acknowledged my presence. Steve was a dip in high school who only wanted to be popular. But, he was a completely different person back in middle school. We traded the occasional lunch but that was it. That, was basically the only interaction we had other than our slow dance at the Snow Ball. He likely doesn’t remember it because it was so long ago. But ever since, I developed feelings for him that I never thought would be reciprocated.

“Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” plays loudly throughout the room. I fiddled with the dress my mother urged me to wear on the bleachers as I watched my friends dance with boys. I slurped my punch sadly. A very prepubescent Steve cleared his throat. I looked up to see his hand held out.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled, causing one to form on my face. I eagerly nodded and he pulled me onto the dancefloor. That was many years ago.

He cups my face with both of his hands and pulls me toward him. His lips brushed against mine and I closed my eyes, embracing him. Our lips danced in sync with each other, starting out delicate but gradually we sped up, needing more. His hands pulled me onto his lap, with mine wrapping around his neck.

“Gross,” My little brother’s voice caused me to jump off of Steve’s lap.

“Oh shut it,” Steve playfully muttered.

“Don’t you have a basketball bench to warm?” I cross my arms.

“Ha-ha, very funny. You know you have a bedroom to suck face in?” Lucas copies my body language. Steve lets out a laugh but quickly tries to hide it with a serious face when I look at him. “Steve, can you give me a ride to the school for Hellfire?” I scoff offended by his betrayal.

“But I always give you a ride,” Lucas shrugs.

“Well, do you want to give me a ride?”

“No, not really,” I laugh and he shakes his head at me.

“Ok, children let’s go,” Steve grabs his keys from the coffee table and my hand.

We dropped off Lucas and we sit in the high school parking lot for a while. Steve finally starts the car again and grabs a tape from his center console. The familiar tune filled my ears. I turn towards my boyfriend who is already looking at me.

“You remembered?” Disbelief stains my voice. His distinguishable and comforting smile is shown on his face.

“How could I forget?” Turning up the radio, he hastily places a kiss on my cheek and exits the car. I confusedly watch him as he runs around to my side, opening the door. This time a much older and post-pubescent Steve has his hand held out in front of me. “May I have this dance?” He asks me, recreating our previous one. Teary-eyed, I let out a laugh, entangling my fingers with his and he pulls me out his car. I clasp my hands around his neck. His fingers gently wipe away the single tear that escapes from my eye. I smile at my boyfriend once more as his hands settle on my hips.

“You’re just too good to be true,” He starts singing on key, surprisingly. “Can’t keep my eyes off of you,” We sway side to side in the Hawkins Highschool parking lot with both of Steve’s car doors open. “You’d be like Heaven to touch,” I lay my head on his shoulder as he continues to sing.

“I had no clue that you could sing, Stevey.” He laughs.

“I can do a lot of things,” I know for a fact that he had a smirk on his face. Steve throws me out and spins me back in, dipping me. I pant, trying to catch my breath because I didn’t expect any more surprises from him.

“Wow, I got a good deal, didn’t I?” He nods quickly.

“A great one actually,” He helps me up to my feet. Our foreheads meet as we are comforted by each other’s presence. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm these lonely nights!” Steve pulls away from me and belts out the chorus suddenly. He begins to “dance” but to me, it looks like he’s experiencing a stroke. I laugh as I watch him dance around me, attempting to sing while being out of breath. Grabbing my hands, I join him in his peculiar movement. Our laughter could be heard from miles away but we didn’t seem to care.

The song comes to an end and we stop our movement, catching our breath. Steve approaches me again with an adorable look on his red face. “I love you so much,” He says, still huffing. His hands hold my face. “I’ll scream it until you believe it. I love you! I love you! I love you, Y/N M/N Sinclair!” I place my hand over his mouth.

“Ok! Ok,” I pause. “I believe you,” He takes my hand off his mouth.

“Good,” A cheeky smile forms on his face.

I roll my eyes playfully. “You are such a dork, Steve Harrington.” He gasps offensively placing his hand on his chest as if I had just wounded him.

“Then you are a dork by association,” He snarkily says, shrugging his shoulders. I pull him by his shirt collar.

“Shut up,” Our lips entwine. I smile into the kiss causing Steve to pull away.

“What?” He asks, a worried expression is displayed on his face. I wrap my arms around his neck and shake my head.

“Nothing,” I linger. “I just love you.” Steve’s smile returns and he picks me up, spinning me around, causing a squeal to leave my mouth. We lean in once more to kiss.

“Ew!” Steve yelps as we hear a voice. Turning towards the voice, we see the whole Hellfire club standing at the front doors of the highschool. My brother’s face displays disgust.

“And I thought you were the weirdest Sinclair,” Eddie says crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes for what seemed like the 100th time tonight.

Steve mimics Eddie by crossing his arms. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough for me to want to gauge my eyes out,” Lucas replies following with a dramatic gag.

“I’m gonna make you walk home,” I laughed as I watched his eyes bulge.

“Eddie will give me a ride home, right?” He turns toward Eddie who is shaking his head. Lucas groans.

“Dude your sister scares me,” He shrugs his shoulder and walks back inside of the school.

“Is Steve planning on dating all our sisters?” I hear Mike say to Lucas as they head inside and I laugh. I stop once I don’t hear Steve joining in. He is glaring at me with a stern and serious look.

“What?” Steve shakes his head trying to hide his smile.

“Let’s go, Jaws is not gonna finish itself.” He starts walking to his open car door.

“Oh please, no! I’m sorry.”

“That’s what I thought,”

#black girl writer #black girl reader #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x sinclair #stranger things #lucas sinclair #eddie munson

396 notes · View notes

stevesbbg · 2 years

Text

𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 - 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

warnings: one mention of 'princess' but no other gender-specific things mentioned, kissing, alcohol consumption, swearing

"Careful, princess," Steve carefully sat you down in the front seat of his car. He buckled you in and walked around to the drivers seat, starting the car. The loud booms of music were muffled inside Tina's house.

Looking at him, you smiled, "I swear I only had one drink."

"Of course you did."

He drove out onto the main road and stayed quite. The only sounds were the humming of the car. You looked over at him, taking in the way he looks from the side, as if he was a god. Sleepily, you faced forward again, let out a yawn, and fell asleep.

Steve looked over to make sure you weren't dead. To his relief, you were still breathing, and boy did you look peaceful. He shook his head and focused on the road, the thought of you still very much in his mind.

It only took a few minuets to get to your house. Your parents were on vacation for a week (which was the only reason why you were drunk in the first place.) He pulled into the driveway and got out, quietly opening your car door and getting you out.

You mumbled something incoherent and fell back asleep, now in his arms. He walked through the door of your house and laid you down in your room.

"Shit, what do I do with you? Do I just... leave you here?" He stood by you, confused. Honestly, this had only happened to him one other time. He didn't really know the girl, though, so he had just written her a note and left. You were his friend though, so he decided to cover you with a blanket and sit on the couch in the living room.

You woke up a few hours later, eventually rolling out of bed and walking to the kitchen. Not seeing Steve, now passed out on the couch, you opened the fridge and grabbed some water. Taking a few sips, you go to sit on the couch. Sitting down, you hear a loud yelp.

"Shit! I'm so sorry Steve-" You jump back up, dizzy.

He gets up, shaking his head, "You're fine! I'm the one who should've like.. not been here." He pats the couch, telling you to sit down.

You sat there, looking at his face again. This time however, he looked back at you with a grin. "See something you like?"

"Yeah." Oh shit, what? You didn't mean for that to come out...

Steve's grin grew wider and leaned closer to you, "I do, too." Closing the gap, Steve's lips connected with yours. They were softer than you imagined.

"We can talk about this tomorrow when you aren't so drunk," He rested his forehead on yours, "Lets get some sleep."

Steve helped you back into your room with a few encouraging kisses. Eventually, you made it into the actual bed and fell asleep, drunk and in love.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x black reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x reader oneshot #fluff #joe keery x reader

331 notes · View notes

ceexb · 10 months

Text

The flour power of love

Pairing: Steve Harrington x black reader (my blog my rules) gender neutral ? but mention of braids with beads

Summary:baking cinnamon rolls with Steve

Words:1,006

Warning:fluff,language,making out

Disclaimer:never claimed to be a writer 🙅🏾‍♀️

You had always found solace and joy in baking. There was something undeniably wholesome, calming, and sweet about being able to bring people together with your delectable desserts. The kitchen was your sanctuary, where you could let your creativity flow and create edible masterpieces.

When Steve first saw you in his home economics class, you were seated at the table opposite him, and he couldn't help but be captivated by your presence. Your complexion, radiant and glowing, stood out under the bright fluorescent lights of the classroom. Your hair was styled in beautiful braids with beads that swayed gracefully as you spoke.

You had a remarkable way of expressing yourself, often using your hands to emphasize your words.

From your interactions with others, he assumed you were one of the most endearing people he had ever come across. Kind, funny, and social, you had a magnetic presence that drew people in.

Steve had secretly harbored a crush on you, but he lacked the courage to approach and introduce himself. It wasn't until the summer, when the chaos with the demo dogs and demogorgon unfolded, that he found newfound bravery and became bolder as a person. He mustered up the courage to ask you out to the movies, and to his delight, you two hit it off and started dating.

Now, here you both were, standing in Steve's kitchen, wearing matching aprons as you gathered the necessary ingredients for your baking adventure. With a notepad in hand, you meticulously checked off each item as you retrieved them from Steve's well-stocked cabinets. Your tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, ensuring that everything was in place.

As you scanned the kitchen, your eyes searched for the measuring cups, but they were nowhere to be found. Furrowing your eyebrows, you questioned Steve, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. He scratched the back of his head, a sheepish expression on his face as he admitted that he didn't have any measuring cups. You couldn't help but feel a bit exasperated, wondering how he planned to bake without such a crucial tool.

Crossing his arms, Steve suggested, "We'll just eyeball it." You let out a sigh, realizing that you would have to rely on your instincts and experience to make the recipe turn out right. Grabbing a large mixing bowl, you began combining the flour, salt, instant yeast, and other dry ingredients. Meanwhile, Steve watched you, captivated by how effortlessly you moved around the kitchen, completely in your element.

"You know, you can help too, Steve," you reminded him, breaking him out of his trance. He quickly jumped off the counter he had been perched on and asked, "What do you want me to do?" You instructed him to start forming the dough, and he eagerly rolled up his sleeves, his hands skillfully working the dough.

Pausing for a moment, you couldn't help but admire the sight of him, his wrists flexing as he rolled the dough over and over. Shaking off your distraction,he reminded you to stay focused. With a playful smile, responding , "Hello, don't forget to do your part." Rolling your eyes, you went to retrieve the dough you had prepared earlier and placed it in a greased bowl, covering it with a clean towel to let it rise for an hour.

As you turned around, you noticed Steve holding a bag of flour in his hand. Your warning was cut short as he playfully launched a clump of white powder at your face, causing it to scatter across your lashes, neck, hair, and even down your shirt.

“Steve…I know damm well you did not just get that flour in my hair”

Your Eyes wide and mouth agape, you stared at Steve, a mix of surprise and sudden amusement on your face. Without a second thought, you lunged at him, both of you engaging in a playful flour fight, chasing each other around the kitchen.

Eventually, you gave up the chase, realizing that you had a task at hand. You went to preheat the oven to the required temperature while Steve watched, still grinning mischievously. Returning to the rolls, you noticed that they had risen perfectly. Carefully, you placed them on a tray and slid them into the oven, the warm and humid air of the kitchen enveloping you both.

While waiting for the rolls to bake and rise, you decided to prepare the frosting. However, Steve had a different idea of how to pass the time. With flour still evident in your hair, you found yourself sitting on the counter, nestled between Steve's legs. Your hands rested on his chest, and your eyes met, sparkling with affection and desire. The anticipation grew as Steve leaned in, his breath quickening, and your lips finally met in a tender, passionate, and slightly messy kiss. Bodies pressed together, you explored each other's tenderness, deepening the kiss as time seemed to stand still.

The setting sun cast a shadow over your intertwined figures, the kitchen filled with the scent of burning rolls. Urgently pulling away, you left a trail of saliva as you broke the kiss, your mind still in a blissful haze. "Steve... we forgot the cinnamon rolls !!," you exclaimed, rushing towards the oven. Opening it, you were met with a cloud of smoke, prompting Steve to open the windows to clear the kitchen.

Disappointed, you dropped the burnt rolls onto the stove, their appearance resembling scones rather than the fluffy treats you had envisioned. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you muttered, "They could've turned out so well frowning ." Steve walked up to you, a smile on his face as he pecked your lips. "Well, even though the dessert didn't work out, at least we have this cute memory to remember," he said, his love for you evident in his eyes.

#Steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #Spotify

30 notes · View notes

harringtons-cupid · 1 year

Text

In love with a criminal- Steve Harrington X reader

➻w.c. 5.4k

➻Warnings 18+: Physical violence, slight angst, slight emotional abuse, office sex, 69, bed humping, female masturbation, skin scratching, cum eating, squirting, spanking, public touching. Findom.

➻Tagged: @bisexual-byers @urlbitchin@sweet-villain @oo0lady-mad0oo @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @harrys-four-nipples @hellfiremunsonn @luna-munson83 @urlbitchin @joejoequinnquinn @roguemetalmaster13 @hellfiremunsonn

[Feedback and reblogs are important, please support your content creators!]

| 1 | 2 | Masterlist | Series Masterlist |

He was right, you knew he hated Billy. They had only fought once, your fears of Steve hurting Billy was something you cursed yourself for everytime they were around each other.

“Okay, well he found the clothes that you bought me today and he asked where I got them from. So I lied, I think he knew that because he started to get aggressive with me’’ you sighed, more tears falling down your face as you revealed the obvious red marks around your neck.

Steve’s body language changed instantly, falling down onto the sofa as he pounced up at once and disappearing upstairs. Calling out his name in desperation until he reappeared with his infamous wooden bat in his hands.

Not listening to you as he marched towards his maroon BMW, turning back and grabbing your face tightly. Roughly kissing your lips before getting inside.

‘’Do not move’’ he growled at you, his eyes were dark and angry.

You stood on his doorstep in tears as you watched him drive off, dropping dramatically to your knees in tears once the door was closed behind you. Pacing around the lower floor of his house, constantly thinking about where he was and whether he was hurting Billy.

Your feelings for Billy were still at some level of romantic interest, he was still your boyfriend but you knew something had changed since your close encounters with Steve Harrington.

The moment you disappeared from view, Steve’s angry emotions intensified. Loud aggressive music was blasting into the car, his wooden bat was sat in the passenger seat along with the small black bag that contained a few of favourite items. A gun, your ‘Sweetheart’ knife, a pack of cigarettes, a black balaclava and a recently procured red lacy thong of yours.

As he entered town, he slowed the car down avoiding the focused gaze of the feds. Since his recent incarection, the feds had been watching his every move. The recent robbery that you had slightly partook in was luckily hidden from the feds but as he grew closer to Billy’s second place of work, he noticed that the feds had disappeared from his view.

Glancing at the bat in his passenger seat, he knocked it on the floor beneath the seat and grabbed his black bag. Slinging it around his shoulder before leaving the car hidden from the building, he wanted to avoid being caught at any cost.

As well as being a lifeguard doing the daytime and weekends, Billy wanted to any chance to be away from home and so he got another job. This role was different to the Lifeguard job, he was required to work late which resulted in you spending more time with Steve than Billy.

Billy didn’t tell you much but as Steve stood inside, music blared loudly into his ear he felt like laughing.

He was a male stripper.

Billy happened to be on his break out the back when Steve shouted to the bartender that he was friends with you, Billy had spoken about you throughout the club. They were also in deep with Steve, this was not the place that Steve worked out of but many of the staff and customers were his. This meant that if Steve touched Billy whilst at work, none of the staff had the nerve to grass him up.

His reputation was known throughout town and if people weren’t in bed with him they reported him.

Billy was finishing his cigarette when Steve burst through the fire exit into the courtyard, startling him slightly. Instantly feelings of anger flowed through the veins of both men, their mutual hatred was showing as Billy took a swing at Steve. Grazing his nose before Steve grabbed his fist and swung it around his body twisting his arm, kicking him in the shins. As he fell to his knees in pain, Steve bent down meeting his face with his and smiled at him.

“If you ever lay your hands on her again like that, I won’t hesitate to hurt you anymore” Steve whispered into his ear, his hands squeezing Billy’s throat as he spoke.

Billy opened his mouth to speak but instead he spat heavily in Steve’s face, letting go of his throat Steve moved away quickly. Kicking his side before walking back through the noisy club, he nodded his head at the bartender before running towards his car.

Steve wiped the little blood from Billy’s nose from his face as he walked into the dark and colourful tattoo parlor. A regular at this tattoo parlor, he had gained small tattoos on his body over the years, you would kiss them at any chance you could. Chatting to the artist for a few moments before the needle began pressing into his skin, gasping from the slight irritation of the needle Steve lay there and thought of you.

Billy had no tattoos, he would always try to convince you had the tiny dot on his thigh from where the tattoo artist had started to make a design before he chickened out. But it was nothing compared to Steve.

Listening to the repetitive advice from the tattoo artist, he slipped an extra twenty dollars into their pocket before disappearing into his car. His mind fell to you again, his black bag had fallen onto the floor with the wooden bat as he sped through town.

It had gotten dark when his car pulled into the driveway of his house, you practically rushed to the doorway. Checking his body for marks, his eyes were dark and misty but as they met yours they softened.

‘’What happened? How is Billy? Is he hurt?’’ your voice was fast and mumbling, the panic in your eyes made him freeze.

Sighing, he shrugged and walked past you. Taking the black bag and his bat upstairs, lifting up the broken wooden panel under his bed and placing them inside. You followed him, still pestering with questions about Billy.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to be honest with you. He is slightly hurt but I told him not to touch you like that again’’ sighing, his eyes softened once more.

His arms rubbed yours hard as you stared at your feet, taking in the information about Billy. Your mind wandered with scenes of how beat up Billy was, biting your lip as you looked at Steve again.

“But is he bad?” your voice shook as tears spilled out onto your cheeks.

“Look, i’m no doctor but he probably has a few bruises, maybe a broken arm” he winced as you hugged him tightly.

Looking concerned, your eyebrows knitted together as you lifted up his black hoodie to expose the plastic coating over his new tattoo. You didn’t know about the tradition of getting a tattoo after every fight, this tattoo he was nervous about.

Your fingers grazed the outer layer of the tattoo, your eyes squinting to figure out the design and looking up at him for some form of answer.

“It’s a heart” his cheeks flushed red as he stuttered with a smile.

“What for?” the tears in your eyes had cleared as you gazed at the tattoo with curiosity, completely unaware who it was for.

“For you” he whispered, pushing your body into his. Trying to hide his embarrassment with a hug, you gasped pulling yourself out of the hug as your eyes scanned his face.

Smiling at him with giddy feelings, trying to register it. Your eyes flickered between him and the tattoo, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. He moved you onto his bed as he kissed you, his body weight on top of you as your legs slid perfectly around his waist.

His body pressed against yours as your hips began to move, gasping into his mouth from the friction. Your clit twitching as his pelvic bone hit against it, his cock growing more uncomfortable with every movement.

Your hands slid down to his trousers, pulling them eagerly off him to expose his throbbing cock close to your mouth. Practically salivating at the sight of it, you aligned your face closer and closer until his tip grazed your lips.

He groaned in pleasure as pre cum leaked between your lips and into your mouth, slowly taking his tip and seductively sucking. Your tongue moving between his folds as your eyes looked up at him.

All your mind could think of was the tattoo he got for you, the power of making him feel how you felt was driving you as gradually took every inch into your mouth.

Watching him twitch as your hands cupped his balls, his hips were angled into your mouth. His head tipped back as his hand gripped into your hair, guiding his cock in and out your mouth.

Humming as you moved your body out onto the bed, wiggling your ass into the air and catching his eye once more. Your hands stroked his cock as you pinched your cheeks together, making your mouth hole tighter and tighter around his cock.

Your clit throbbing against his mattress as you slowed your pace down, his body practically begged for faster movements.

“This feels so good Sweetheart, would you do something for me?” He whined, his eyes rolling back as your tongue circled his tip.

Nodding at him as the vibration of the word “yes” rippled across his cock, his hands pulled harder on your hair at the sensation.

“Grind, that wet cunt against the bed for me? Can you be a good girl for me?” He growled at you, his voice was deeper than usual.

You did as you were told, the material grinding against your clit felt incredible. Your moans were hot and heavy on his cock, producing more saliva that dripped out your mouth and onto the bed.

His eyes watched you as your hips moved quicker and quicker onto his bed, his eyes closing tightly as you felt him twitch.

He was close, knowing this you sped up on the bed. The sounds of the bed hitting the wall from your cunt made him moan louder.

Rubbing your wetness all over his bed covers with the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat made him cum hard.

You swallowed every bit of cum that he produced, your hips still grinding against the mattress. His hands pressed onto your cheeks as he forced your clit against the material, making your legs shake from the sensation.

Giving you no choice but to pleasure yourself, your moans turned into gasps as you grew closer and closer to your orgasm. Your jaw ached from his cock but as his nails dug into your cheeks, you forgot that pain.

Your legs twitched as you felt yourself cum hard over his bed covers, continuing to rub yourself with Steve’s help against the material until you came for a second time.

Rolling over you sighed happily, Steve spread your legs apart and buried his head between them. Licking every last bit of your cum off your cunt and into his mouth, your legs shut around his head as he sucked on your clit.

Your fingernails dug into his skin as your hips twitched, riding his face aggressively until you felt yourself cum for the third time. Completely defeated you collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, Steve wiped your cunt clean with his fingers and shoved down your throat.

“I love how you taste Sweetheart” he smirked, taking his fingers out of your mouth and kissed you.

Your lips touched until they were sore, your sadness had slipped away for a few moments. As you lay there talking with him, your hand in his the familiar feeling seeped back in. And your mind got lost in the idea of Billy being hurt, tears began to drop onto the pillow silently as Steve made dot-to-dot with your beauty moles.

His hands on your skin slowly relaxed you, the sound of his breathing as he dropped into sleep helped you follow him into sleep.

When you awoke, sunlight was streaming in through the gaps between his curtains. Your body filled with panic as you rushed to get changed, finding a pen and opening your book on his desk.

Circling the few words needed to spell out: It’s been a pleasure, see you soon. Sweetheart. Pink hearts circled the word Sweetheart, leaving on his desk you walked over to his sleeping body and kissed his cheek.

Once in your car, the feelings of panic and fear made your hands shake against the steering wheel as you drove home. Still in yesterday’s clothes as you tiptoed upstairs, it was 8:45 am on a Saturday and the house stood still.

You were able to change and quickly leave the house before waking anyone up, your nerves still causing your hands to shake as you made your way to Billy’s house.

Throwing rocks at his window always seemed to be romantic but right now, it was terrifying. His blonde curls stuck angrily out the caravan window, his body language softening slightly when he saw you.

Sitting awkwardly on his bed as he carried in two mugs of coffee, his face was bruised, his arm was loosely in a sling. You took your mug out his hand quickly as his wincing face made you sad.

“I’ve missed you” his voice was shaky, his eyes were sad as they looked at you.

He sat facing you on the spare chair with a mug next to him, your hands burning on the hot drink as you smiled weakly at him. Examining his body once more, you were sad that he got hurt but almost relieved that he may never touch you again like that.

“I’ve missed you too” taking a sip of your coffee, your true feelings were hidden by a burnt tongue.

You had missed him but nothing like you used to. He looked different in your eyes.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, you know I get jealous. Especially around him” he stared into the contents of his mug, feeling sorry for himself.

“I understand, I should have told you about the money instead of hiding it” your hand reached out and touched his knee with a smile.

He nodded in agreement with you, feeling more relaxed after seeing him. You collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Billy joined you not long after, his fingers tracing your skin making you giggle.

You and Billy always used to lie on the grass together and trace each other's skin, he always said he loved the way you felt. But as you lay next to him, your heart was full of sadness.

Billy’s body rose and fell as he drifted off into sleep, he was exhausted from the incident with Steve and working 2 jobs.

You kissed his cheek and tiptoed out the house, rarely staying with Billy whilst he slept. He would usually be asleep for a couple of hours on end and you really wanted to be at home.

Your family were noisily talking over the television when you arrived home, your mum was making food in the kitchen. Hugging and kissing your cheek with a loud “hello” she shoved some of the cooked food into your mouth.

Pointing to your book on the counter, between mouthfuls of food you understood her mumbles to be “that arrived for you early”. Your body began to shake as you stared at it in your hands, the crumpled overead pages,the discoloured front cover.

Smiling at her wearily before dashing upstairs, panting heavily as you forced it open. Hunting for the marked page, tracing your finger along the lines as your heart fluttered at the circles spelling out the words for you. Like you, he had covered the sentence with hearts.

T e n a t m i n e , S

Clutching the book with a sigh, you shoved it into your desk drawer with the rest of your gifts from Steve. The few notes sat messily inside, the bag of money was hidden at the back as your hands ran across them.

You had decided to use your favourite book as a way of communicating with him, hiding from the suspicions of Billy, your mum and the feds. Steve found the idea to be hot, sliding his hands down your body when you told him.

This has been the first reply you had received and it gave you a thrill, an even bigger secret.

Steve was full of surprises, something about the way his brain worked always left you speechless. You never felt unsafe with him.

Deciding to take your mind off Steve and Billy, you opened up your homework book and began to complete the tasks for the week. It grew dark when a soft knock vibrated against your door, your head was hurting from falling asleep among the wood and the thin paged book on your desk.

The door opened with a creak, your mum's smiling face peered round the door with a tray of food.

“Here you go darling, I also wondered how Billy was?” She smiled at you, her eyes were filled with worry at the mention of Billy.

Of course your mum would be wondering about Billy, their mutual crushes on each other were not subtle. She had heard about his accident in town the other day, you had noticed that her mood had dropped since then.

“Billy is okay, he’s got a few bruises but he’s alive” you sighed, smiling fakily at her.

“Well, you know I always had a weird feeling about that Steve Harrington” her voice was bitter and unapproving as she spoke about him.

“He’s not that bad mum, he’s quite nice actually” you spoke defensively towards your mum.

“Of course he’s nice to you” she laughed, tutting and leaving the room. Not giving you a chance to ask more.

Her words played on your mind as you ate the food she had given, your eyes stared at the draw of items from him.

Picking up the book off your desk, you routed through the enveloped money and shoved a few notes into your purse. The heavy necklace hitting your skin as you looked at it in the mirror each gem grazing your fingers.

You imagined Steve was behind you, kissing your neck as your hands slid down your body and into your underwear. Watching yourself in the mirror as your fingers touched your clit, the coolness of your hand against the hot throbbing cunt.

Your hands slid down between your folds, feeling how wet you had got just at the idea of Steve near you. Biting your lip as your finger played with your opening before returning and spanking your clit hard making you squeal and smirk.

Suppressing your moans as you played with your clit, pressing your hips against the wooden desk. Giving you support as you grinded against your fingers, closing your eyes tightly as your mind wandered to Steve. Images of Billy flickered between Steve, your eyes rolled back as your clot grew engorged and more sensitive.

“Oh fuck, Steve. I’m gonna cum” you panted, your body jerking against the desk as you rode yourself through your orgasm.

Coating your fingers with your cum, continuing to grind your cum coated clit against your fingers until you came for the second time. Smirking to yourself, you removed your fingers and sucked on them hard.

Washing your hand quickly in your bathroom sink, your family were still noisily talking downstairs. You hoped no one would question where you were going as you reached the door.

“Are you going out?” Your mum turned from the television with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m going to see Billy” you lied, biting your tongue as you smiled back.

You saw your mum look at the necklace around your neck but you had shut the door before you could hear her comment. Unable to start the car quick enough, you wheel span off the drive and rushed to Steve’s.

Hammering on the front door of his house, he opened almost instantly with his famous smile. A unlit cigarette in his mouth, you nervously laughed looking around before entering.

You never cared before but your gut feeling was telling you that someone had seen you.

His hand caressed your face and you melted, the feelings in your gut disappeared for a second.

Unlike with Billy, Steve felt safe. Maybe it was the idea that if anyone were to hurt you, he wouldn’t settle for it. No matter the consequences.

You had heard rumors for years that he was in love with you but you ignored them. Not wanting to believe something so tempting.

But as you stood in the middle of the entrance to his house, you wondered what it would be like to fall in love with someone like Steve Harrington.

His hand in yours as he led you upstairs, your words mumbled between breaths as his lips met yours on each step.

“You came here early Sweetheart” he seemed happy but breathless as he pushed you through his bedroom door.

“I needed to see you” you gasped, his hand was in your pants. Looking at you with a smirk, he felt your wet cunt.

Throwing you on the bed, pulling down your underwear to expose your cum soaked cunt. Shooting him an innocent look, as he buried his head between them.

“Someone has been making themselves cum I see” he mumbled between your folds as his tongue explored your entrance.

Your head hitting the soft cover as your hands tugged on his hair as his fingers played with your clit, his tongue sliding in and out of your entrance. Moaning loudly as your hips rode against his face, coating his face with your precummed face as your body shook.

‘’Get on my face, I want to taste you’’ you gasped, making eye contact with him.

Your hips bucked as he removed his face from your cunt and did as he was told, hovering over you with his hard cock. Extending your tongue out as his cock slid down your throat, his head resumed its position on your cunt as he began to moan.

Choking slightly as his cock hit the back of your throat, sometimes you forgot how big he was until you took him all into your mouth. Your hands cradled his balls, his tip tickled the back of your throat as you sloppily sucked on his cock. Your moans rippled across his cock as he thrusted deeper inside you, his tongue was sliding in and out of your entrance as his hand flicked your clit.

“Oh fuck Steve, I’m so close” you trembled, his cock twitched as your cunt pulsated against his face.

Riding yourself through to your orgasm, your moans and gasps vibrated against his cock as you came. Taking his cock faster into your mouth as you coated his face with your cum, he kept his face buried in between your legs until your tongue circled his tip.

He whimpered as his cock trembled between your lips, his cum suddenly hit the back of your throat making you swallow it all instantly. His head tilted upwards as he finished completely, gasping for breath as he rolled off you, his sweaty body fell next to you. Catching your own breath, you smiled and kissed his face.

“How about we go to a club?” Steve turned to you, his bare chest glistened with sweat.

“A club?” You shakily spoke, feeling nervous about being seen in public with Steve.

He parked outside your house as you rushed in to change, picking out one of the many dresses that Steve bought for you that one day.

His eyes practically popped out his face when he saw you, the emerald dress had a slit across your leg. Your heels made you wobble on the concrete, laughing as you climbed into the car.

Steve stuttered as his hand squeezed your thigh, he was wearing the only black suit he owned. As he rolled to the club, your nerves were on alert as his hand naturally slipped into yours.

It was busy and loud as you walked to the entrance door.

“Welcome Mr Harrington, right this way” the security at the door led you both through the club until you reached the VIP section.

The area was blocked off, you felt odd as you sat closer to Steve. His eyes were darting around the place, feeling slightly on edge. As he ordered you both some drinks, he mumbled something to the security by the rope.

After your drinks had been downed, you and Steve nestled closer together. His seductive whispering made your stomach flip, his hand sliding up your leg and grazed your underwear. Making you giggle, spreading your legs further apart allowing him more access when a security guard rushed over and demanded Steve’s attention.

Mumbling the words “he’s here”, Steve’s body stiffened. Grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you away from the table, you took one last look at the bar to notice that Billy had just walked in.

“Steve?” Your voice was filled with worry but confusion.

“Yes Sweetheart” he turned to face you in the dim light of the driver seat, you saw him shiver.

“Why were we here? And why did we leave?” Your curiosity growing as you examined his face, the shadows hid your nerves well.

“I own this club Sweetheart, I wanted to show you it. And I didn’t want your little boyfriend to see you here” he sighed, his hand sliding off the leather steer wheel and resumed its rightful place on your thigh.

“Do you have an office?” You asked, moving out of the shadows with a smirk.

“I do’’ his voice was low and hot, leaning forward to kiss you.

Taking you down the side alley of the club and the music got further away from your ears as he pushed you against the wall of the stairway. Unable to keep his hands off you, your back was hitting the cool and grimy blue wall as the double doors opened.

‘’Oh, sorry Mr Harrington’’ the bartender from this morning when Steve found Billy, feeling embarrassed to have caught his new boss with you.

‘’That’s okay, Sweetheart, do you want to head on up? I’m just going to chat with Sonny here for a second okay’’ he turned to you whispering, his hand slipping out of yours and as he smiled at you.

Feeling nervous and slightly lost, you continued up the stairs until you reached a blue door with an ‘office’ sign on it and pushed it open. There was a big glass window that showed the club below, the mixture of lights hitting the walls around you. Your eyes moved onto each person downstairs until you found Billy, serving an attractive redhead by their body language you could sense that he was flirting. He leant across the bar, you could see his hand touch her face as he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

Even though you were standing waiting for Steve in the club he had presumably just bought with a tattoo dedicated for you on his body, seeing Billy with another woman practically in front of you broke you.

In that moment Steve walked in, feeling confident as he swaned in and gestured to the surroundings. He sat down on the black wheeled chair by the desk, watching you gaze at Billy through the glass.

“Fuck me, Steve” your voice full of hurt and anger as you pushed yourself onto him.

Fumbling over his suit trousers, his belt hitting the metal armrests of the chair as you straddled him. Grinding hard against his crotch, kissing his neck passionately until you felt his cock grow harder against your cunt.

His hand explored your body, pinching every bit of skin he could hold onto. Moaning softly into your mouth as you roughly kissed him, your clit was throbbing against his cock as you continued to grind faster and faster until your body jolted and you felt yourself cum. Just needing to feel something, you slid your hand up and down on his cock before removing it from his boxes and playing with your clit and entrance.

The position was awkward, standing up you seductively wiggled your ass over the desk. The dress still clinging to your body as his fingers played with your clit, your hips bucking as his tip slowly edged itself inside you. Your hands grasping onto the desk tightly as he filled up your walls with his big cock, the movements knocked piles of paperwork onto the fall.

Your moans echoing in the cool room, the lights still bouncing off every wall as his cock hit your soft spot. Your hips moved back onto his cock as your clit grinded against his hand on the edge of the desk, your eyes tightly closed as your cunt grew wetter and wetter.

“Oh fuck Steve. Give me your cock, I need it. ’’ You whimpered, the feelings of anger and hurt from Billy disappeared with every thrust.

Steve moved his hand from your clit as spanked your ass hard, feeling it jiggle against his cock. He sped up his thrusting, hitting your walls harder and harder. Your moans grew louder and more guttural as your body moved hard against the weak wooden desk.

“Oh my god, fuck. You know I love it when you tighten yourself around my cock, you’re so naughty. Making me fuck you in my new office’’ he groaned as you clenched your cunt around his cock as he slid in and out of you.

Pushing your head onto the desk, thankfully there was a small pile of papers to soften your fall. Your eyes rolled back as he hit your soft spot hard, your legs buckling against the desk as you felt yourself cum. Squirting hard against his cock, making it drip loudly onto the conceted flooring as he leant back to watch as you continued to squirt hard. Your groans turned into gasps as your body tingled your intense sensation.

Every thrust was more intense than the one before until you felt his cock twitch inside you, regaining energy from cumming hard you slid your hips back onto his cock. His moans were loud and sudden as his tip hit your wet dripping spot, his hands were spanking your ass hard against his cock.

“Are you going to cum Steve? Cum in my wet cunt in the middle of your office, have your cum drip down my legs as you speak to your staff huh? That would be naughty wouldn’t it?’’ you moaned, your arms weakly grasping onto the desk as hard as you could.

He groaned “fuck” broken and loud as his cock continued to twitch, slamming your hips into his as he exploded inside you. Filling up your dripping cunt with his cum, bending backwards to watch himself fuck his cum back inside you until his cock limply slipped out of you.

You wiggled your ass in the air as some of the leftover cum slid down your legs, you turned around to face him with a smile. His hands cupped your face and kissed you, his tongue shoved through your lips into your mouth and played with yours.

As he looked at you, his eyes were soft and filled with something more than lust. You wondered if he was hesitating to say something like “I love you” but he pressed his head against your forehead and closed his eyes.

#Steve harrington #Billy Hargrove #Billy Hargrove x reade #Billy Hargrove x female reader #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove x y/n #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x Fem!reader #Steve Harrington x black reader #Billy Hargrove x black reader #Billy Hargrove x plus sized reader #steve harrington x plus sized reader #Steve harrington x female reader smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove angst #steve harrington angst #sweetheart x steve criminal fic

110 notes · View notes

iridescentmauve · 2 years

Text

just a little thought but ..

sugardaddy!steve spoiling his baby all the time with his parents money. getting her new jewelry, dresses and accessories and presenting them to her at every single date.

sugardaddy!steve who begs to eat you out every time you show up in one of those new, skimpy dresses he buys you. and if you say yes? oh boy buckle up for a long night.

sugardaddy!steve who practically makes out with your pussy, moaning and whining into your cunt, the lewd sounds of both him and your wetness filling the room.

URGH, i want sugar daddy steve in my life ☹️ requests: OPEN.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve smut #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve x black reader #steve x black!reader #x black reader #x black!reader #black reader #reader insert

370 notes · View notes

sailorwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Purple rain.

Steve Harrington x black reader

Steve and his girlfriend disagree on the Dustin's hair for the snowball dance. The down side of having two hair perfectionist as "parents"

"Steve...why does my baby look like white Prince?"

You get into the back of your boyfriend's car in the middle of Steve and Dustin talking about the dance tonight.

"Hello, my boys." You loop your arms around the back of the chair leaning forward to peak between the middle seats. "Gimme kiss, Stevie." You lean closer to Steve so he can press a short kiss to your lips. "Thank you, handsome."

"And you. Lemme get a good look at you. Dusty." You get a good, gently firm grip on his cheeks, looking him over. "Steve." You puff air into your cheeks slowly exhaling before turning back to your boyfriend. "What is this?"

Steve's eyebrow raised as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye curiously. "What is what?"

You look at Steve with a blank expression then back at Dustin and back to Steve.

"Did you do this?" You stare at Dustin's chubby little face in your hand and he gives a big close mouth smile to you.

"Did I do what?!" he glanced between you and the road "stop playing im driving."

"Steve." You start slowly, letting go of Dustin's face. "Why does my baby look like white Prince?" You frown.

"He does NOT."

"He does look at him."

"He does not look like Prince!"

"You should have pushed his hair back with a little Jheri curl. He would have been so cute." You start pushing Dustin's curls back gently off his forehead only for Steve to reach one hand off the steering wheel to slap your hand away from Dustin's curls.

"Absolutely not. stop it that took hours. A Jheri curl? Are you serious." You smack his hand again, fidgeting with his hair again "A Clark Kent moment."

"No. His hair is perfect."

"No LOOK." You lean out of the way pulling Dustin close to Steve's face."He looks like he's about to sing Purple Rain to me." You smile goofily at Steve who starts shaking his head slowly.

"Don't do this, please."

"Purple rain, purple rain. I only wanted to see yooou." You lean close to Steve's face singing a bit off key.

"Please. Sit back and put on your seat belt."

"Bathing in the purple rain." Dustin joins you cheerily as Steve turns into the front of the middle school

"I NEVER WANTED TO BE YOUR WEEKEND LOVER... I ONLY WANTED TO BE SOME KIND OF FRIEND!" The two of you chorus loudly.

"You two are actually insufferable. Henderson. Get out of my car." Steve Reaches across the two of you to open Dustin's door.

"Wait no wait! Lemme see the teeth first." You beg.

"DON'T Do the thing-."

"Grrrrr" Dustin makes a growling noise with a wide open mouth smile showing off his teeth.

"don't. Don't do that." Steve shook his head in disapproval.

"Oh my God, the ladies are going to love you." You coo at him.

"Don't lie to him."

"I'm NOT. It's adorable. Do it more like a cat. Purrrrr-" you roll your tongue.

"STOP."

"Purrrr."

"YES. that's it!"

"Don't encourage him." Steve sighed loudly, opening the door again. "Ok ok get out of my car"

"bye dust bunny! Have fun honey." You watch Dustin walk up the stairs and fix his suit before walking in. "...he SO looks like Prince."

"Stop that." He swats at you as you dive into the front seat. "Watch the Leather!"

"Seriously. He looks like he could be our baby. The curls? Those Little brown eyes? I hope our babies are that cute." You tease shoving his shoulder a little.

"You want a baby with me?" He paused, looking away from the road to you.

"Some day..." You smile "Maybe."

"some day..."

#sailor writes stuff #sailor's dreamhouse #stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x black reader #sailor presents: steve harrington x afro babe #dustin henderson x reader #steve harrington #Dustin Henderson

344 notes · View notes

nobitchs-world · 1 year

Text

What is a normal childhood experience you never had?

#evan peters x reader #evan peters #ahs asylum #ahs coven #ahs hotel #jimmy darling x reader #jpm x reader #kit walker x reader #james patrick march #jimmy darling #black reader #black yn #x black fem reader #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson x black!reader #Steve Harrington x black reader #eddie munson

32 notes · View notes

arachine · 2 years

Text

— 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

+ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college! steve harrington x bimbo! reader

+ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: mature

+ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: in which steve attempts to study for a really big test, and reader distracts him…

+ 𝐜𝐰: explicit sexual content, explicit language, thigh riding, dry humping…it’s really tame

+ 𝐰𝐜: 4.3k

+ 𝐝𝐭: @cesot

+ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: wow, i am so fucking creative naming this distraction, how incredibly unique of me (not). anyway, this was a request which can be found here!

The big analog clock centered on the wall has been the only source of sound these past few hours. It ticks, and ticks, and ticks—a sheer reminder that time continues to flow, yet your boyfriend remains unmoving. You’ve been laying here for what feels like an eternity, but really it’s just been five hours, and you know that much because you’ve watched through bored eyes as the big hand on the clock made five revolutions.

He’d promised you earlier when you arrived at his dorm that he’d be quick, that he’d only be studying for an hour or two—which were bold-faced lies! Because one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, which then turned into you counting the specks of freckles on the back of his neck, until ultimately, you’d forgotten what exactly it was you had planned today.

As the big hand nears its 6th revolution, you sport a small frown, turning over into a starfish position to release an agitated sigh. If you laid down any longer you’d fall asleep, and you didn’t come here to sleep and be ignored, you came here in hopes of catching a movie later with your boyfriend, you think.

“Stevie,” the pet name comes out in a drawn sigh, “you almost done yet?” The brunet responds with a brisk ‘yeah, yeah, just a little longer’ followed by a ‘going through the last topic now’.

“You said you’d be ‘a little longer’ like three hours ago,” you sit up, swinging your feet off of the bed to walk to where he sits at his desk. It’s cluttered in textbooks, leaves of loose paper, pencils, eraser markings, and empty coffee cups—all a testament to how incredulously long he’s been sitting here studying.

The state of it wasn’t nearly this bad earlier, but you assume at some point in time in which you were finding ways to entertain yourself, he’d slipped out of the room to make more cups of coffee. When you stretch out a gentle hand towards his face, he almost flinches, but gives in and relaxes his cheek into the palm of your hand.

His eyes are tired, drooping. The rings of brown that normally glisten like droplets of honey, are now dull, and the skin under his eyes have given way for new bags to settle. Thumbing his cheek briefly, you dip down to his height, wrapping two arms around his neck. The tip of your chin rests firmly against his shoulder, and it digs into skin when you open your mouth to speak.

“Baby, let’s give it a break, hm?” you leave a feather-light kiss on his cheek, then another on the edge of his jaw, pulling the hem of his shirt down to leave a kiss on the junction between his neck and shoulder.

“Can—can’t,” he breathes, “gotta be prepared for tomorrow, and right now you’re distracting me.” You nip at his neck when he utters the last bit, eliciting an exaggerated ow from the boy.

“Well,” you round his chair until your knees brush against his, “you should’ve thought about that before promising your girlfriend to a movie.” Now the entirety of your weight finds solace upon his lap, and the old wooden floorboards creek and crackle in response.

“Oh…” Is all he says. “You’re right, I guess…I guess I lost track of time.”

“Mhm, you left me all by myself with nothing to do,” a pout graces the lower half of your face, “gonna make it up to me?”

You synchronize your words with an avian flutter of your lashes, giving him your biggest of doe-eyes, the eyes that you know he can’t resist—the ones that always, without fail, get him into trouble. God, you were such a little vixen. He considered himself a strong man—in the way that he was impenetrable to temptation (a lie)—but when it came to you?

For you, he’d follow you all the way to the ninth circle of hell. All you had to do was bat those pretty little lashes, and he’d roll over for you like a mutt. Steve Harrington, former IT boy of Hawkins High, was a goner.

“Yeah, I will—I promise,” there goes that promising again, “but my test’s tomorrow, don’t you want me to pass?” He rests his calloused hands on the fat of your hips, thumbing the skin above your skirt in deliberately slow circles.

In his mind, he’s comforting you, trying to get you up and off his lap so that he can resume studying passive transports and how facilitated diffusion works—or whatever bullshit he was learning that had absolutely nothing to do with his major.

But in your mind…in your mind, all you could think about was kissing him silly; kissing the tiredness out of his eyes and returning them back to the big, brown opals that always made your heart skip a beat whenever he looked at you.

“You said I was a distraction,” your voice trails, “so, why don’t I do my part as a distraction and make you feel better…just for a little bit!”

Steve glances down at his desk, then glances back to you and your frowning face, then back to the desk, until he finally gives in with a breathy sigh. Yeah, he could take a tiny break; he could do without looking at the hundreds of flashcards scattered all over his desk, and the cups of coffee, and the—

You grab his face and kiss him. The first kiss is quick. Sweet. And the remnants of your cherry flavored lip gloss coat the plump of his lips. As soon as he darts out his tongue to taste it, the flavor seems to melt and disappear, like it’d never been there. So, this time it’s him who kisses you again, and again, and…again…and again.

Each and every one all of his own volition, equal parts urgent and wanting. He was kissing you like a mad man, as if he’d gone minutes, hours, days without oxygen and you were his only supply. For a few seconds, all you can hear is the intake of breaths, quick and shallow, leaving the other’s mouth in frenzied desperation.

You can hear the heavy, rhythmic thumping of hearts beating asynchronously, though, one is louder than the other—yours. It beats erratically for the boy in front of you, and you can feel and hear the pang of it in your ears, stomach—core. It beats the loudest there, the place you need him most.

Your hands glide down the curve of his neck, across the points of his shoulders, down his chest, and stop just above his belt. He can feel you playing with the notch, dragging your deft fingers along the metal, and glazing just over the tent in his jeans. He should stop this, he knows he should—but he can’t, or rather, he’s paralyzed.

His body, mouth, and hands are moving all on their own accord, rendered useless, like he’s teetering the line between puppet and master. Move, stay, touch, kiss–taste. Those are the words being repeated to him in a loop right now; they’re whispered to him sweetly like commands, and he listens. He listens because his mind is telling him to, and you just look so pretty right now, how could he not be entranced?

Enough teasing, you decided. The tail of his belt is pulled from the loop of his pants, but before you can unbuckle it, a strong hand takes hold of your wrist. That’s when Steve hears another voice, a voice that sounded a lot like Dustin’s, telling him to stop and keep it in his pants or he’d be a failure. God, even amidst a situation like this, the brat’s attitude prevails. A true cockblock.

“Ok,” a kiss, “we should,” another, “s-stop,” he pulls away unceremoniously. When he opens his eyes, he’s met with a confused, agitated you—a very out of breath you, but nonetheless, a very confused, very agitated, slightly angry, you.

“But why?” It comes out drawn. Hushed. Steve can hear the breathiness, the wanting. He can hear it because he was the very reason for it, having stolen all the air from your lungs.

“Because if we don’t stop, I’m gonna make a mess of my pants,” his eyes gesture to his crotch, ushering yours to follow suit. He was hard, the outline of him prominent against the dark blue of his denim jeans. You could help him, fix it so that it wouldn’t hurt, if only he’d…

“C’mon, knock it out,” the brunet defensively pushes your face away until it’s out of reach. His entire hand engulfs the expanse of your face, and you mumble a groan against it, smearing away the last of your cherry flavored lip gloss.

“You done?” He queries. No response. “I said, are you done?” This time you nod your head against his palm, the forming of a pout not far behind.

“Will you try to kiss me again?” You shake your head once, twice, following up with a muffled ‘nuh-uh’. With a sigh, he retracts his hand, squinting with skeptical eyes as you sit up and straighten your back.

“Ok, ok, we can…we should…yeah. You have to study,” you breathe, trying to convince yourself that you could be patient and wait for him to be done. But then you look at his lips. His spit kissed, gloss coated lips, that were swollen because of you.

And his hair…god, it’d been styled to perfection prior, and now it was a tousled mess, a mess that you wanted to keep on messing, but you had to hold your composure—had to reaffirm yourself that you could wait and help your boyfriend study for an important test.

“Yes, you have to study,” your hands reach for his shoulders, fingers squeezing the fat of them as you look seriously in his eyes.

“I have to study, t-that’s—that’s right,” he repeats, straightening his posture. There’s a brief pause. Just eyes staring back into each other, and blank faces. Steve glances to his lap, and then back to you, and then he glances again, emitting a cough from his throat.

“Are you…uh, gonna get up? It’s kind of uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m good right here, thank you for asking though,” you smile, turning in his lap to sit sideways. Steve laughs, god bless your heart.

“Yup, yeah, great. I’m glad you’re comfortable.” If you weren’t going to move from his lap, then you’d at the very least have to be still. Very, very, very still.

“‘M gonna help you, Stevie!” He raises a brow. In the span of 30 seconds, you’ve gone from trying to get into his pants, to attempting to be productive. Steve was no genius, but if he wasn’t getting the concept, there was no way you’d understand it, let alone help him study. But now you’re grabbing for the flashcards, with a toothy grin plastered across your face, and fuck…he’s so enamored with you.

A subtle smile graces the curve of his lips, and he decides to indulge you. The first thing you do is outstretch a hand to the haphazard pile of flashcards strewn on his desk. You hover your hand over the cards, mumbling an ‘eeny, meeny, miny, moe’ as you whimsically maneuver your pointer finger, until finally, it lands on its target. Mischievously, you quickly grab the chosen card and press it to your chest, sitting up a little straighter so that you can read it aloud.

You clear your throat, “What transport mechanism requires the use of ATP?” It takes a massive amount of self-restraint to not laugh in your face. The answer is endocytosis, of course, and he knows this because you’ve got the side with the answer facing him. He doesn’t know whether or not he should tell you, or pretend to ponder over the answer—but for now, he’ll save you the embarrassment and opt for the latter.

“Hold on a second,” he taps his chin to show that he’s thinking over the answer, “is it…endocytosis?”

“Good job, Stevie!” Unconsciously, you lean in to kiss him but he prematurely stops you with a stern finger.

“Uh, uh, uh,” the boy tuts. Your shoulders and back fall into a sad curve, a look of frustration settling on your face. Just how much longer was he going to torment you?

“Right, yeah, okay…next question!” Just as you’re about to pick up another card, Steve grabs both of your wrists.

“Actually, I think I should study on my own, by myself—just for now! And then I promise to let you test me when I’m ready,” he puts his hands together in a praying position, “just sit still for a few minutes.”

It’s laughable, really, how you’ve spent the entirety of your day confined in a mere dorm room. Seven hours earlier, it was sunny, clear skied, and warm. But now, as the night sets in, and the moon creeps out, you find yourself growing jealous. Jealous of the people who spent their days outside—jealous of the girlfriends who’re probably snuggled up against their boyfriends at the movies!

Occasionally, you can hear the opening and closings of neighboring doors, the padding of feet trekking across the carpeted hallway, and the fleeting conversations of passing residents. You wonder if they can sense your agony, if they can feel it emanating through the thick, cemented wall.

Your eyes glance over to the clock, taking note of the big hand’s microscopic movements. It’s gone around for another two whole revolutions. Two hours of sitting. Two hours of waiting. Two hours of tortuous, painful silence—albeit the occasional flipping of pages, heavy sighs, and ticking.

The pressure on your lower back from sitting in a slouch builds gradually, until it gets to be too much and you have to change your position. You do it once, but it’s still uncomfortable. Then you shift again…and again, until your weight rests upon a single thigh. For now you’re comfortable, content.

But then Steve makes the mistake of bouncing his knee. He does it intermittently, unconsciously, and he thinks nothing of it. You can tell because his eyes scan the contents of the book with unfettering concentration, his lips only ever moving to repeat something back to himself.

Experimentally, you rock against his thigh. No reaction, other than the rise and fall of his denim clad leg. The brisk movement has your heart pounding wildly within its cage, it feels good. An iota of relief from the dull, aching pain between your thighs that had slowly begun to fester the moment you stepped foot in this room. If you were smart enough, you’d try and make it a little less obvious, and blame it on discomfort—and if you were smart enough, you probably would’ve gone home a lot sooner.

But right now you weren’t thinking with your head (not like you ever really did), you were thinking wholly with your cunt, and right now it was telling you to move. Get off on your boyfriend. Make yourself feel good. So, you do. You move, teeter back and forth, letting your clothed cunt glide against his knee. By now, you’re more than sure that Steve has caught on to your little display of disobedience, and he has.

“What are you doing?” The question falls flat because he knows exactly what you’re doing—because he can feel it—the wetness seeping onto his jeans, and the pulsing of your cunt.

“‘M not doing nothing,” you lie through your teeth, shifting yourself once more so that now your body is turned towards him. Steve gets a glance of the wet spot on his pants before you settle all the way back down, and the sight of it makes his dick twitch. Jesus Christ. Playfully, you resume your movements, pressing yourself down hard against him, letting a breathy sigh spill from your lips like silk.

“See, ‘m not doing anything,” your hands wrap around each other to encircle his neck, lips dangerously close to his, “just sitting down like you told me too.” The warmth of your breath on his neck sends shivers down the column of his spine. Your mouth hovers over it, but never plants itself.

It’s like you’re toying with him now. Making him do the waiting. And he supposes he can’t be vex with you because it kinda is his fault for promising to take you out. But fuck, he couldn’t take the torment. He wanted to be selfish, wanted you to just kiss him, touch him, and sink down on his cock—studying be damned!

His impatience gets the better of him. Throwing his book to the floor, he grabs the base of your neck and forces his lips against yours. It’s urgent, spitty, and completely unrhythmic, but he likes it. He wants more; more to feel, taste, touch.

“I’m sorry, baby” he breathes in between kisses, “Let me make it up to you, yeah? Can I feel you?” You whimper in reply, detaching yourself from his lips to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It’s a l-little too late for sorry, Stevie,” the words come out in a stutter, each one in syncopation with the rolling of your hips.

“Yeah, I know, baby. I know,” his tone is airy, “C’mere.” The brunet grabs you by the waist, maneuvering you into a position where your legs dangle off the sides of the chair. In this position, he can see everything. Your thighs, your panties, the prominent wet spot that contrasts the baby pink fabric, the coquettish expression molding your face…

It feels like there’s a seed stuck in his throat, and if he were to speak, utter anything above a whisper, it’d grow. Fester. Come out as something sinful. If you were privy to any of the thoughts he had within the last 30 seconds, you’d think he was disgusting, he thinks. His hands smooth over the bare skin of your legs, first experimentally, then greedily, roaming frantically until they stop at the flesh between your thighs.

He squeezes the skin there, uses the palm of his hands to spread you open—wider, all for his voyeuristic pleasure. Steve likes the sound you make when he does it, sends another twitch straight south, but this time it hurts. It hurts because he’s so fucking hard, he can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock, like liquid hot magma. God, he was growing restless.

The relief he seeks is right in front of him, sitting prettily in her bow-adorned panties, rutting pathetically atop him. You were so cute, so determined, with your lip tucked between your teeth, and your hands grabbing at his clothed chest. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more friction.

The boy’s hands find solace once again on your thighs, grabbing, pulling at flesh until they finally rest on the fat of your ass. He kneads it once, twice, before pulling you down hard against his crotch.

Yes, this is what I’ve been chasing, the voice in his head thinks. And it is. He gets this way every time; forgets briefly just how good you feel against him—and then the memories come back. Like flashes, waves of pleasure. It’s like witch craft, almost. Or drugs, the effect you have on him. Yes, it was like drugs. And like all addictions he needed his next fix.

Repeating the motion, he drags you back and forth against him. It’s rough, hurried, and the grip he has on your hips is vice. You’re sure it’ll leave a bruise for you to discover tomorrow, but that’s neither here nor there. All you can focus on is the face he’s making, the sounds he’s making.

They’re breathy and quick, and whiny. He’s whining for you, muttering incoherencies under his breath but the few words you can make out are ‘feels so good’ and ‘please’. That, coupled with the pussy drunk look in his eyes, has your stomach knotting up.

“Steve…” the sound of his name sounds melodic coming from you. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again until you can no longer say it.

“What is it, baby? Hm?”

“Think ‘m gonna…’m gon–“ He thrusts up, the point of his zipper catching on your clothed clit. A loud gasp emits from your throat, and he swallows it with a kiss. He takes his time with this one, moves his mouth slowly so that you can catch up, pushes his tongue inside so that he can taste you, every inch of you. This one is dizzying, in every sense of the word.

You try to pull away for air, try to push his chest, but he takes a heavy hand to the back of your head and keeps you still. Keeps you down, pressed against him, so that he can rut up into you with unadulterated ferocity. Eventually, he retracts his hand so that you can quickly catch your breath. A tether of saliva connects the two of you, and it thins the further you pull away.

Right now, in this moment, under the cheap, dim light of his dorm room, Steve thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen you. Yeah, you always look pretty, could never be anything less than that in his eyes…but there’s something different tonight. Makes him wanna burn the scene into the backs of his eyelids, compartmentalize it so that he can replay it in his mind. See you exactly like this.

“You’re so—fuck—beautiful,” Steve confesses. He inches closer to your face, hovers his lips over yours. “Do you know what you do t’me?”

You want to respond, say something, anything, but decide to just grind down harder against him. You’ve never been the brightest, never particularly been good with words, so you let your body speak for you…let his name pour from your lips like a mantra because it’s all you can offer him.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!” Your hands curl around his biceps, the tips of your fingernails digging into flesh, “you feel s’good.”

“Come on, pretty girl, why don’t you show me.” He reaches a nimble hand down to your skirt, pulling the fabric up and out of the way. The wet spot has grown considerably since the last time he took a peek at it, now it covers the entirety of the front, all the way up to the pretty pink bow. Fuck, he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not after this.

“Holy shit, you’re so…I can see your pussy like this,” the brunet swallows thickly. He keeps your skirt up with one hand, and uses the other to rub your swollen nub. It’s sticky, warm to the touch. He starts out with slow, deliberate circles. Tries to get a feel for it and coax reactions from you.

He finds that the faster he rubs it, the more he can feel you clench around nothing, and the more you start to slack against him. The dizzying pace of his hand, paired with the force of his hips (which haven’t stopped thrusting up into you), has you teetering the edge of euphoria. You’re close, and he knows it.

“C’mon, c’mon. Let me see you, gorgeous,” he drops his hand from your clit to pull you down firmly against him.

“Cum,” a thrust, “for,” another, “me,” the boy presses you down for a final time, the grip of his hands on your waist so hard, you see stars. All at once, the gears turning in your head come to a full stop. It’s like a system overload, and any and all control you thought you had over your body is now gone.

Pathetically, you fall weakly into his arms, your body limp, like a puddle of gelatin. A shrill cry escapes your throat, and crescendos into a hushed sob. The sight of your trembling body only encourages Steve further. He uses your limp body like a sex doll, continues to fuck up into you until his balls begin to tighten, and a warm, gooey substance leaks onto his briefs.

“Shitshitshit!” A series of expletives leave his lips, probably a bit louder than he anticipated. He breathes heavily through his nose, silencing the rest of his moans by biting down onto your shoulder. Before he comes down from his orgasm, he pulls you to sit up, and rests his forehead against yours, open-mouthed breaths fanning your face.

You’re barely aware of what’s going on when he attaches his lips to yours, but you kiss back; kiss him slow, and steady, and allow him to breathe life back into you. When you open your eyes, you’re met with another pair. Those beautiful, big, brown opals that you missed.

“Hi,” Steve’s hand comes up to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into it, taking it in your hand to kiss his wrist.

“Hi,” you whisper, laying your head on his shoulder. For a moment, the two of you sit like this, letting the light of the moon coat your bodies. It’s you who breaks the silence first.

“So, looks like you made a mess of your pants anyway.” Steve raises a perplexed brow, but then recalls the time he told you he didn’t want to ‘make a mess of his pants’. In response, he chuckles.

“Yeah, guess we match now,” he lifts your skirt to show you your sodden panties. You feel a wave of heat rise to your cheeks.

“’S all your fault!” A weak fist makes contact with Steve’s chest. Yeah, he was definitely failing tomorrow’s test.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x you smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

2K notes · View notes