#steve harrington thot

[ang3lofsmalldeath]

steve harrington x shy-ish! needy! reader smut

inspired by this lovely piece of work from @stevestummy/nsfw blog @hungharrington 🫶

CW: d/s dynamics, praise, slight dumbification, shyness, reader has vagina, reader referred to as ‘girl’, unprotected PIV, & size kink but like in a steve being hung way, not in a fetishizing being skinny way.

minors DNI (not proofread)

lazy sundays were reserved for just you and your stevie. they weren’t always super “lazy”, every now and again he may decided to take his angel out for a sweet lil date. maybe a picnic or shopping trip. but today was in fact, lazy. after, rolling around in bed, kissing each other silly for a while, steve had made you both soup and sandwiches for lunch. then you sat on the couch together, curled into steve’s chest as he lazily played with your hair, watching some movie that you couldn’t remember the name of, and you had good reason to forget.

you had been wound up for your boy since the sun rose and splashed against his mole covered back. when steve woke up, and sloppily kissed your lip, cheeks, and neck, you instantly felt heat overtake your body. it didn’t help that steve had placed his whole weight on top of you, like an anxiety blanket. you went on like that for an unknown amount of time, it could’ve been minutes or hours. you wish it would’ve been for eternity, but alas, all good things come to an end. now, sitting so close to steve, taking the time to study the happy trail peaking out of his shirt and the soft bulge so visible in his sweats, you felt like you were going to die if steve didn’t touch you soon.

“stevie,” you whined, getting your boy’s attention, “i have somethin’ to tell you.” you watched steve’s brows furrow, clearly encouraging you to share. with a slight smirk on your face and your eyes shifting down, “‘m really, really wet.”

shocked by your uncharacteristic boldness, he breathily chuckled before urging you to get on his lap, “c’mere baby,” he said patting his lap. once you climbed into his lap, he said a sweet “hi honey,” before quickly attaching his lips to yours. huffing out of your nose, you accepted his attack, waiting a moment to fight back. his lips upturned into a smile the second you did, putting his hand on your face, he graciously slipped his tongue in your mouth. you stayed like that for a while, until your hips began to move against his. his mouth began to nip at your lips to your jaw to your neck, worsen the throbbing in between your legs until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“please stevie,” you begged as he pulled away to look at your features, “i want you,” you whined at him, almost begging.

“you want me what?” steve teased, trying to get your courage from earlier to come back. but, it didn’t as you just flashed him the biggest puppy dog eyes you had and whimpered a slight bit in response, “aw, are you being shy again, angel? let me help you then.” steve grabbed your hips and made you stand up as he pulled down your shorts, but left your underwear on. he patted his lap again, but your face fell into a frown in response as you climbed back onto him. he noticed this almost instantly, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“i want you to touch me, without my panties on, right now,” you whined, making steve only giggle in return, moving his hand to pull your panties to the side. then he just paused for a moment to make a remark about your behavior.

“my girl, so spoiled, huh?” he then began to lightly stroke your cunt with his two fingers, glancing down at it, he noticed how soaked you were and how wet his sweats were getting. cock straining in his pants, he began to circle your clit, trying to his baby ready as quickly as he could. “such a pretty little pussy my angel has, she’s so so wet for me,” you let out the loudest, pained whine either of you had heard up until this point.

“stevieee, i need you now, okay? please i need your cock, i can’t wait,” you begged, knowing steve had yet to let you to take it without at least making you cum once before due to the sheer size of his cock, but you wanted it so bad.

instantly hard as a rock to your proposal, steve wanted to say yes so bad, but he had to be certain you really wanted it. “sweetheart, are you sure? i dont want to hurt you.”

sighing, frustrated almost to the point if tears, you promised him, “won’ hurt me, baby, i can take it, please, ‘m so wet f’you,”

“okay be a good girl and take me out, honey,” steve agreed and so you did as he asked, shaky hands pulling his sweats down to reveal the hardness you’d been dripping onto this whole time. he was always big, like really big, but today his tip was extra flushed and leaking, veins straining against his natural curve making the concept of taking all him more intimidating than usually. once he was freed, he grabbed your hand, and put his palm towards, spitting in it than glancing back down at his cock. you gave him a few tentative strokes, watching his eyes flutter before cautiously lining yourself up with him. steve, ever the doting lover, grabbed your hips and began to sink you down onto him. you wouldn’t lie and say the sting wasn’t more intense than usually. it felt pretty good at first, but then it felt like he was tearing you apart with barely the tip of dick.

“wait, please, i can’t” you moaned, the ache in between you growing more apparent, “‘s too much, cock’s too big.” listening to your whimpers, one of steve’s hands moved to stroke your cheek.

“what’d i tell you, angel, hm? it was gunna hurt you. want me to stop, baby? let me eat your little cunt first and try again?” steve’s proposal did intrigue you, but you had other ideas. as you sat atop his cock, listening to him, your pussy had become to relax and flutter around steve’s tip, feeling much more comfortable.

“hmph, no, baby can y-you just stay and um,” you trailed off, grabbing steve’s hand off your cheek and lightly sucking on his thumb as his eyes grew twice their size out of curiosity and lust. once you popped his thumb out of your mouth, your hand, moved his back down to where you two were connected. you pleaded with him, “please, jus’ touch me and maybe stay right here, stevie? you can move a lil, jus’ really gently, okay? hurts t’much today,” for split second steve was confused about what you were trying to say, and then understood what you were asking for. he began to circle your clit while one hand moved your hips up and down

“oh, my spoiled baby, i love you,” steve dreamily sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “want jus’ want a quarter of it, yeah? can’ handle such a big dick in such a tiny little pussy? good girl using your words, y’know i’d give my girl anythin’ if you ask, honey,” steve spewed uncontrollably, more turned on than it felt like he every had been before. he watched your legs already start to quiver as your eyes squeezed shut. “lemme know if ‘t hurts, okay, sweet girl? wanna make you feel good, wanna make you cum on me baby.” you moaned out to his confession, his words spurring you on.

“feels s’so good, stevie, y’fillin’ me up so good, i-i feel s’good,” you babbled, as steve sped up his assault on your clit and pushed your hips just a little bit further down, at this point, still barely taking half of all his length.

“mhm, baby? must feel really good, you can barely talk straight right now. s-shit you’re clenching me so damn hard too, baby, fuck me,” steve teased you, groaning out as your cunt wrapped even tighter around him. he could tell you were getting close, and changed nothing about his work besides add a little more pressure to your clit, still rubbing tight wet circles on it. “y’gunna cum, sweet girl? this all it take? rubbing your little clit and giving you only some of my cock? that’s so cute, honey. fuck, why don’t you cum, huh? wanna be a good girl and soak my dick? make me s’so proud of y-you,” he stuttered out, trying to keep his composure, as you neared your end.

“uhuhuh, steve, i-i’m, mmm gonna cum- kiss me, please kiss-“ you pleaded with him before he kissed you hard. your legs squeezed shut, body rocking against his as you shook with the waves of your orgasm, finally, overtaking your body. it was so much all at once.

“i know, sweetheart, i know, feels so good, huh? cumming like that on me, yeah? look at your pretty legs shake, baby, jus’ breath love,” steve said when your mouth fell away from his. he shushed you as you continued to ride it out atop of him, tears welling in your eyes. once you had completely finished, steve took you off his still-hard cock and pulled you to his chest. “shit, you’re tremblin’ like a fuckin’ leaf, sweet angel,” he whispered before kissing the top of your head, squeezing you tight as you caught your breath.

you both sat there, for as long as need to as your legs stop shaking and your breath slowed to a steady pace. you were thinking about asking steve to come and give you shower, until you realized something: steve didn’t get to cum yet. you ripped yourself away from his chest, catching a startled steve dead in the eyes, “you didn’t cum yet, baby, can i help you please?”

he blushed at his sweet girl before responding, “wanna make me feel good, honey, yeah?” you nodded your head as fast as you could, your boy deserved to cum as hard as you did. “m’kay baby, but im real tired after moving y’hips like that, so why don’t you go and use that pretty little mouth of yours on my dick, sweet thing. yeah, be a good girl and clean your cum off m’cock?”

and that’s exactly what you did.

#smutty stevie #steve harrington #steve harrington brainrot #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington thot #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader

[roanniom]

Tbh I’m tipsy right now and all I want is to ride Steve Harrington’s thigh as he tries to pretend like he disapproves but really he’s two minutes from cumming untouched.

#steve harrington smut #this is very specific #but reminiscent of that drunk!reader x Steve fic I wrote once #brb reblogging that #steve harrington thot

[boyfriendstevie]

sturdy

steve wants to test out the desk he just built for you | everyone say thank you @superblysubpar for encouraging me to write this hehe | 2.7k, f!reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv. don't do it kids. 18+ as always!! mdni!!

“Babe! C’mere!” Steve calls from the spare bedroom, echoing down the hall of your new apartment. 

You’re in the kitchen, starting to unpack a few boxes there, while Steve had been working on putting together your new desk. Obviously, you’re more than capable of putting your own desk together, but Steve had offered, and, well, sometimes you have to make the patriarchy work for you. Placing the half-unpacked box of silverware onto the counter, you shout back a reply and head through the maze of boxes to the bedroom, “I’m comin’! Give me a sec!”

When you reach the bedroom, Steve’s standing in the middle of the room, hands on his hips as he looks at his handiwork. His back is to you, so he doesn’t notice when you come in, and you take a second to admire him. He’s quite the sight; wearing an old pair of gym shorts that are a bit too small for him, a well-worn shirt that might be yours — you’re not sure from this angle — and a baseball cap on backwards to keep his hair out of his face. He looks so good, and it hits you then, just how lucky you are. How lucky you are to be living with your ridiculously handsome boyfriend who offers to build things for you out of the kindness of his heart and looks ridiculously good while doing so. 

“Hon—“ the word dies on his lips as he turns around to find you standing in the doorway. A grin stretches across his face at the sight of you, making your heart flutter in your chest. “You starin’ at me, stalker?”

“So what if I was?” you ask, crossing the room so you can throw your arms over his shoulders, “I can’t admire my hot boyfriend?”

A strong arm wraps around your waist to pull you close. He hums in thought before shrugging, “I’ll allow it, I guess. If you give me a kiss.”

“Deal,” you murmur as you lean up on your toes to press your lips to his in a soft kiss. It’s short and sweet, but you don’t mind. “Thanks for building the desk, baby.”

“Anything for you, honey,” he hums quietly in reply, dipping down one more time for a quick peck on the lips. His hand rubs over the curve of your hip gently as he adds, “Hopefully it’s sturdy enough…”

“Steve, I’m sure it’s fine, as long as you followed the directions—“

“Maybe we could test it out?” he asks, giving you a cheeky grin, eyebrows raised in question. 

You snort a laugh, eyebrows furrowing together. You’re pretty sure you know what he’s getting at, but you ask anyway, “And how would we do that?”

His smile grows, looking a bit more mischievous as he turns you around and slowly begins walking you back towards the desk. You let him lead you, giggling with your hands on his shoulders, until you bump into the desk. He leans down to kiss you again, and just before your lips touch, he squeezes your hips and mutters, “Up, honey.”

It’s a messy kiss, your lips nearly missing Steve’s in the effort to get up onto the desk, even with him helping you up. You briefly wonder if this is safe — you have no doubt that Steve built the desk well, but you highly doubt that it’s made to support a whole human’s weight — but the thought quickly passes by when Steve takes your thighs into his hands and pulls you towards the edge of the desk for a proper kiss. 

Steve’s nose nudges into yours, poking at your cheek as he kisses you, lips slotting against yours. He kisses you as if he hasn’t kissed you in days, groaning into your mouth as you rock your hips forward, searching for his touch. You let out a whine when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, tongue quickly following suit to soothe the bite. 

“You know, I was— I was mostly kidding,” Steve pants when he pulls back between kisses, lips pink and wet as his tongue darts out. 

“I know,” you reply with a huff of a laugh, twisting your fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, “But you look so fucking hot, and you just built me a whole ass desk, and we fucking live together now, and— please just fuck me on the desk, baby.”

“Shit. Yeah, okay, I can do that,” he quickly agrees, not quiet believing his stupid line actually worked, and that you’re spurring him on as you wiggle your leggings down your hips and legs. The fabric gets stuck at your knees, and Steve springs into action, murmuring something about how it’s his job to undress you as he pulls at the fabric until he can drop it to the floor. 

His hands land on your thighs again, thumbs pressing to the soft flesh at the inside of your thighs as they push up towards your core, spreading your legs apart as he goes. There’s no mistaking the small damp spot in the center of your panties as you squirm under Steve’s gaze. Pressing the pads of his thumbs to the crease at the apex of your thighs, he finally looks back up to you and asks, “Can I taste you first?”

Your answer is a quiet, choked moan and a frantic nod, “Please.”

Steve doesn’t have to be told twice, sinking to his knees in front of the desk as he pulls you closer. It’s the perfect height for this; your burning core only inches from Steve’s hot mouth. He wastes no time in leaning forward, pressing the softest of kisses to the growing wetness there, nose nudging against your clit through your underwear. A low groan comes from deep in his chest, “Can I take these off?”

Before Steve can even finish his sentence you’re nodding again, lifting your hips off of the desk as best you can so he can pull the fabric from your body. As soon as your underwear is on the floor, he’s back on you, licking a broad stripe up your cunt that has you gasping in surprise at his eagerness, “Steve—“

“Mmm,” he hums as his tongue finds your clit, sending vibrations up your spine as he sucks softly and rolls the sensitive nub between his lips. 

It makes you keen, a high-pitched whine that might be embarrassing if you weren’t so blissed out. Your legs tremble as he kisses back down towards your dripping entrance, and your fingers twitch with the need to hold onto something. How Steve always makes you feel untethered so quickly, you’ll never know, but you remedy the problem easily, pushing his hat off of his head. It’s perfect timing on your part; your fingers rake through his soft hair just as his tongue dips inside of you, lapping at your slick. 

You pull at the strands a bit harder than you mean to and Steve moans against you. The sound isn’t quite loud enough for you to hear, but you can feel it. The sensation makes your legs close around Steve’s head, but an arm curls around one thigh before it can press against him. It doesn’t take much for Steve to push your leg back down and hold you open for him, despite how much you’re squirming. 

Steve pulls back after another sloppy kiss to your clit, lips shining with your slick and his own spit. He’s grinning, borderline smug as he nuzzles into the crease of your thigh again, nipping the delicate skin there, “Y’always taste so sweet, baby. Only fitting that my pretty girl has the prettiest pussy, huh?” 

You squirm again, this time in embarrassment, and huff a pathetic whine, “Steve, stop—“

“Well I can’t lie,” he all but giggles, pressing a kiss to your hipbone as his gaze drags up your body to meet your eyes, “Want me to keep going? Or d’ya want my cock?”

Both sound like great options, but you can see the outline of his hard cock in his slightly-too-small shorts, and you want him. Reaching down to brush some hair out of Steve’s face, you murmur, “You. Want you.”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he smiles, sweeter this time, giving your thigh another kiss before he pulls himself up to stand. 

Your chest heaves as you reach for him, taking the fabric of his shirt into your grasp and yanking him closer for a kiss. You can taste yourself on his mouth, but you don’t really mind, especially as his hands roam up your sides, inching underneath your shirt to cup your breasts. He’s teasing again, thumbs barely brushing over your nipples. But two can play at that game, even while he’s kissing you so hard you can barely breathe, and you slip a hand between you, palming his hard cock over his shorts. 

“Okay, okay,” he pants after a moment of shaky breaths and wandering hands, “Can you— will you bend over for me? ‘S that alright?”

Instead of answering, you slide off of the desk and cup Steve’s face in your hands to give him a firm kiss. You make a show of turning around, leaning over your brand new desk until your forearms press to the wood grain. You hear a small groan from behind you as you push your hips backwards, ass pressing to Steve’s bulge, “Christ, sweetheart. How’d I get so goddamn lucky? Fuckin’ gorgeous, and all f’me.” 

Warm hands spread wide over your hips, the pad of Steve’s thumb rubbing a short line over one of the dimples in the small of your back. He gives your flesh an appreciative squeeze before his touch is gone. You huff a whine at the loss of warmth and you hear a quiet chuckle from behind you, “Relax, baby. Gimme a second.”

There’s a quiet rustle of clothing, and then Steve’s hands are back on you, pulling you back towards him. You’re about to complain, to ask him to do something, anything, when you finally feel the tip of his cock nudge against your entrance. Your breath catches as he pushes his hips forward, finally sinking into you slowly. He takes it easy, knowing that you’re plenty wet, but maybe not quite warmed up enough from just his mouth. 

He stops when the front of his thighs press against the backs of yours, fingertips dimpling your hips with how firmly he’s holding onto you. Like he’s worried you might slip away. You moan softly at the aching stretch of your cunt, dizzy with how full you feel of Steve, Steve, Steve. He’s all you want — all you can think about, “Oh f-fuuck… Stevie…”

You swear you can feel his thighs quivering against yours as he stills inside of you. You can hear the grit in his voice, picture the way his jaw is clenched, as he murmurs, “Okay?”

A shaky breath escapes your lips, and you nod emphatically, maybe a bit too quickly, voice a higher pitch than normal, “So good, baby. Move, please move, need y-yo—“

The words die on your lips as Steve draws his hips back slowly and then presses back in. Your head falls forward, mouth dropping open in pleasure with a whine. You feel hot everywhere; a warmth that starts in tummy and spreads slowly, creeping up your torso and chest, into your limbs, until it feels like your body is on fire in the best way. 

His hips roll in and out of your tight heat. It feels so good, and somehow, you still need more. Your forearms press further into the desk as you shift, pushing up on your toes to tilt your hips. You know that if you’re in just the right position, Steve will find the spot that makes you see stars. Desperate for the feeling, you shift again and hear a huff from behind you at the movement. 

Steve knows what you want, and pushes his arm underneath you, between your body and the desk. His hands press to the softness of your tummy and to the curve of your hips as he pulls you into a better position, angling your hips so he can reach even deeper. The new angle has you gasping with each thrust, a punched-out sound that you can’t help between whimpers of Steve’s name and expletives. Steve’s not fairing much better, and you can hear the low grunt he lets out every time his skin meets yours, “You’re so wet— fuck, sweetheart — y’hear that? Hear how wet you are f’me? Feel so good ‘round me, baby. So good for me.”

“Y-yes, yeah — ah, Steve! — all yours,” you babble in an attempt to answer him, though you’re too fucked out to be all that coherent. 

Seconds later, you get exactly what you’d been wanting when you’d shifted your hips; the head of Steve’s cock pressing to the spot inside of you that turns you to putty. The moment he finds it, your legs go weak, and Steve’s grasping onto you even tighter in an attempt to keep you somewhat upright. His arm curls across your midsection, and you feel his warmth against your back as he presses his chest to you. You can feel his breath, hot against the nape of your neck as he murmurs, “Right there, baby? That’s what you wanted, huh?” 

You clench around him, making the drag of his cock that much sweeter. The feeling pulls a deep moan out of Steve, sending shivers down your spine as he twitches inside of you. One of the hands on your waist pushes up under your shirt until he can press against your sternum, and then he’s pulling you almost upright. Your eyes meet his in the vanity mirror attached to the desk, and you moan at the sight; you look just as fucked out as you feel, and so does Steve. 

Lips on your neck, Steve hums, pleased, “There’s my girl. Look at yourself, honey, so so pretty on my cock, yeah?” 

“Stevie,” you whine his name, and he’s sure it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, “‘m close, ‘m so close.“ 

“Y’gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart? C’mon, honey, know ya can,” he says, his free hand snaking down your torso and your hips to find your clit. He circles it quickly, over and over, just how you like, and with his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside of you, it doesn’t take long until you fall apart with a cry of his name. 

He’s not far behind you, hips never slowing their pace, even as he bends you back over the desk. Every wave of pleasure has your cunt clenching around him, and it pushes Steve over the edge, too, with whiny groans against your skin where his face is pressed. You can feel him spill deep inside of you and you shudder, eyes squeezing shut as your head falls forward, hitting the desk with a small thunk. 

Steve’s teeth sink into the smooth skin of your shoulder, quick and gentle, more of a nip, as he presses his chest to your back. Soft kisses soothe over the small bites, and then Steve’s pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breath hot and heavy as he nuzzles there. You pant into your arms folded on the desk and melt into Steve’s touch as his hand rubs lovingly across your hip bones. 

“Y’alright, baby?” he asks, out of breath. 

“Mhm,” you murmur, post-orgasm haze still clouding your thoughts. 

“Good,” you can feel the curve of his lips against your spine, followed by a few soft kisses that trail down your back. He stops halfway down, hands settling onto your hips as he stands back up and slowly pulls out. 

You wince, still so sensitive, but let Steve pull you up and off of the desk, turning you around so your lips can meet his. He kisses you on the mouth, once, twice, and trails a kiss over to your cheek. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you let out a breathless laugh, “I think it’s sturdy enough.”

Steve huffs in amusement, “Thank god. Imagine if it broke while we were on it. And, good news, we just checked the office off of the ‘places we still need to fuck in the new apartment’ list.”

“If you bring me to the bathroom right now, we can check off another one.”

Eyes going wide, Steve grins, literally whisking you off of your feet as he says, “Deal.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington blurb #stevie #steve thots #kit writes

[plistommy]

#THOT DAUGHTER #The gay son can ruin the thot one #LOL #I love these two idiots please they should probs smooch omg!!! #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things #st #steddie fandom #joe keery #joseph quinn #gay son or thot daughter #meme pic

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie in the middle of Steve and reader sandwich

I need that boy to get pampered, loved on, and fucked until he's absolutely seeing stars

he's got big Stevie behind him in his hole and reader under him on his dick and there's so many hands and so many mouths and so much praise and there's just nowhere for him to go because when he pulls back, he's only pushing Steve in deeper and if he leans forward, he's sliding deep into reader and it's so overwhelmingly delicious that his head gets all fuzzy like when he smokes but he's perfectly sober

anon when I tell u this has been living in my mind rent-free for days on end...... have a blurb as a treat

+18 mdni

he's lost in it, you can tell.

Eddie gets this glassy, blissed-out look sometimes during sex- most often spotted when you and Steve team up to give Eddie your collective focus.

as luck, practice, and stamina would have it, you and Steve make a stellar team.

Eddie can't do much more than brace his arms against the mattress, the sharp snap of Steve's hips rocking them both forward as Eddie pants into your mouth.

"f-fuck, Steve, fuck me-" his voice is wrecked, partly from the strain of tamping down his orgasm, partly from the cock that was down his throat earlier.

"what do you think I'm doing," Steve quips, driving his hips forward again, golden torso on display from the little you can see around Eddie's shoulder. Steve catches your gaze and winks, cheekily, even through the haze of flush-pink crawling up his neck (a sure sign of his impending release).

Eddie's forearms frame your head, his nose nudging yours with the close proximity. you can hear every little moan that leaves his kiss-bitten lips, see every minute detail of his facial expressions as they shift and change.

it's why you and Steve make such a good team, when you're like this- Steve relies on you and sound alone to relay Eddie's reactions, and in turn, makes you both feel really good.

maybe, this time, a bit too good; Eddie's making these keening noises like he's been punched- not an unusual occurrence on its own, but his eyes are squeezed shut so tight under his dark brows that it kind of worries you.

"hey-" in a room of slick noises and jagged gasps, your voice is a soft, honeyed thing, and Eddie's eyes pop open- half-lidded but you'll take it- as you slide your hands up his sides to cradle his face. "you okay? want me to tell big mean Stevie to take it easy on you?"

the moment you'd spoken Steve had stilled his movements, loosening his grip on the pale, lithe hips in front of him to stroke a soft palm down Eddie's back instead. he scoffs above you both now at that comment, muttering something about Eddie liking it big and mean.

you ignore Steve for the time being, pretending like it's just you and Eddie, pushing his sweaty bangs off his forehead to give him some relief from the heat that seemed to roil off all of you. "take a deep breath for me, baby. y'wanna stop?"

Eddie obeys, drawing in a shuddering breath before pressing his sticky forehead to your bare collarbone, shaking his head against you as garbled words spill out- "no, please, no, wanna keep going, gonna be so good for you, please, honey..."

"sounds pretty when he begs," Steve comments, the tautness in his frame and voice betraying his feigned casualness.

you shoot him a look, one hand threaded in Eddie's hair as he muffles his whines into your skin- a look that means play nice or else. Steve heaves a dramatic sigh before leaning to cover Eddie's upper shoulders in kisses.

"c'mon, Eds," he murmurs, teeth snagging behind the shell of Eddie's ear, voice low and coaxing, "gotta show our girl a good time, right?"

you feel the effect Steve has on the dark-haired boy, Eddie's cock buried deep within you kicking up, which makes you moan, which in turn makes Eddie moan and clench around Steve...

there's a moment of stilted resettling; Steve slips a warm hand under your knee to push your leg up and out, giving you all a bit more breathing room, while Eddie pushes his upper half up again on shaky arms.

Steve eases himself forward, tongue poking out in concentration, grinning victorious when this new angle pulls a low groan from Eddie.

you're worried he's going to zone out again, but one of his hands leaves the mattress to snake between your bodies, thumb catching at your aching clit.

it's your turn to close your eyes, a mounting wave of pleasure thrumming between your legs; distantly, you hear Steve chuckle and instruct Eddie to do it again.

he obeys, like he always does- though this time when his thumb circles that bundle of nerves, he sucks your nipple into his mouth in a tandem move that has your back arching off the bed.

"jesus- fuck- fucking... don't stop, Eds, please..."

and in a tone far too smug for someone with a dick up his ass, Eddie releases your breast with a wet pop to tease, "now who's begging?"

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #s.h. thots from lu #steddie thots from lu #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie x reader #steve harrington x eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #+18 mdni #mdni

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

I feel like no one talks enough about how it wasn't really his induction into the upside-down crew that incited Steve's character growth. Yeah, that's what got him his new friends, and maybe it expedited the whole thing.

But he did something shitty (fight with Jonathan & the spray painting incident), and THAT'S what started his growth. That's what made him ditch Tommy and Carol and go apologize to the guy he thought his girlfriend had been cheating with. No monsters or alternate worlds. Just your average small-town shenanigans.

#steve harrington #and i think that's even juicier #everyone's always like. the fight with the demogorgon kick started his decent from king steve #NO!!!! he did that all on his own Hours before he saw his first monster #koko thinkin thots

[doomsdaybby]

i’ve been plagued by the thought of steve cumming in your underwear and making you wear them for the rest of the day. so of course I had to write it 🤭🫶🏻 [1.7k words]

You had a bad habit of interrupting Steve at work. Not like Family Video had him rushed off his feet or bending over backwards, but he seemed to always point it out anyways.

“You’re gonna get me fired one day,” he’d jab under his breath, loaded with that honeysuckle sweetness that could make your teeth rot, not a hint of malice behind the words.

“Doesn’t sound too bad to me” you fired back, leaning over the counter with your chin propped up in one hand, elbows keeping you upright, busying the fingers of your other to twirl innocently through strands of your hair.

Somewhere between the shelves of the horror section, Robin was dry-heaving, having been forced into listening to your flirtatious conversations at least three times a week.

Which is how you ended up in the employee bathroom, Steve’s jeans and boxer shorts pooled around his ankles, your shorts discarded somewhere forgotten on the floor, panties peeled down your legs just enough for Steve’s weeping cock to slip through your slick folds without restriction.

Steve had already made you cum like this once already, having hiked up your leg so the back of your knee sat snugly in the crook of his elbow. A large hand cushioned your lower back, skating down to bruise the fat at the back of your thigh.

Steve had you standing on tip-toe, your hands buried in the hair at the nape of his neck, relying wholly on him to keep you upright. The odd squeak of your sneaker against the tile was the only noise that could be heard over the tangles of panting breaths and heated smother of kisses to exposed skin.

You were a moaning mess, the trust you had in yourself to stay quiet faltering, finding purchase in the juncture of his neck. You pressed hot open-mouthed kisses there, lungs working double time, the top of your ass burning where Steve had you anchored against the ceramic sink.

You would be bruised come morning, you could feel the promise of the blooming purple hues in every rut of Steve’s hips. Though the discomfort was drowned out by the sound of heavy huffing in your ear, his lips were so close he merely needed to whisper, the rhetorics flowing through his teeth with vulgar ease.

“You feeling good? I know, my girl, I know. You can’t get enough can you?”

Steve chuckled something wicked when a rather rough buck of his hips knocked your strained legs further apart, his bulging shaft running in and out of your slit at a pace that had you dripping down your thigh.

“God, Steve. Steve, please. Steeeve.” His name came out tightly strung, your pitchy mewls causing his cock to twitch at your entrance, dipping the head in just the tiniest amount, the lewd slip of your arousal making it far too fucking easy for him.

Steve could fuck you raw right here in the employee bathroom, but he couldn’t let you get away with being the only tease in this relationship.

How could he let you show up in your shortest shorts and cropped spaghetti strap shirts, making his work day all the more unbearable, just to give you exactly what you were after?

To his dismay, Steve was determined to show you that he had just as much power over you as you had him.

“Ssshhh, baby. You gon - fuck - you gonna get me into trouble, huh?”

Your mouth was then clamped shut, his palm pressing snugly against your lips, and Steve couldn’t help but roll his hips up that tad bit harsher to slide the head of his cock right over the bump of your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl, gotta stay quiet f’me, okay? I know you can, you’re being so good for me” he cooed, tipping your head back away from the security of his neck to press his plush lips to your forehead, bestowing the gentlest of kisses there.

All you could do was nod your head dumbly, feeling the pull of his lips into a cocky smirk when you did so, glassy eyes rolling into the back of your head. The overstimulation was almost too much, causing tears to collect at the corners of your fluttering lids.

Steve’s breath was hot in your hair, stifled curses passing his kiss-bruised lips that were every so often interrupted by a hiss through the teeth.

You were burning all over, especially so where Steve had his hands on you, a blazing sun beneath each one of his fingertips. Steve was scorching twice as hot, cool waves of shaky exhale escaping your nostrils scattering goose-flesh down his forearm.

“Mmmm, mmm, mmmm” was all you could mumble over and over again behind the restriction of your gag, wiggling your hips to angle them up a little higher, lost in total euphoria when Steve’s cock slid down and the first few inches slipped in.

“Fuuuuck, baby,” he drawled low, sickeningly lustful, “You’re being a greedy fucking girl” Steve released your mouth then, inhaling a broken breath as he moved his hand down to grasp midway up his length, squeezing a little brutal. Your cunt fluttered, aching for him.

“This what you want, huh?” he teased your hole, the head of his cock barely disappearing into where you needed him most. Steve pressed further into you so you were chest to chest, pulling at your hips without mercy.

Forehead to forehead, shiny lips merely inches apart as Steve smirked when your mouth opened in a silent ‘O’, groaning a devilish rattle in his throat when your back arched somewhat grotesque as he slapped the tip against your sodden clit.

“This is what I want” you agreed, in complete mumbling nodding disarray, unable to change the angle of your hips now due to the threatening looming spasm in your calves, wishing that he would just give in already and fuck you like you both wanted.

“Please. Please Steve, I need you. I need you” your begging trailed off into fucked out drawls, air-headed demands dripping from your lips, another orgasm looming on the horizon as promising as the rising sun, cheeks flushed scarlett.

But obviously Steve wasn’t going to let you cum again. That would just be greedy now, wouldn't it?

Steve cursed, hitching your leg up even higher, marking the outline of a red handprint into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. It took everything in you not to cry out, sobbing because it felt so fucking good. Too good, a shock rolling up into the pit of your stomach at every drag of Steve’s weeping tip over the hood of your clit.

“Gonna paint this pretty pussy, honey. Gonna keep my cum in these little panties f’me, yeah? Keep ‘em on until I can fuck you like you deserve later” Steve grunted, nosing at your hairline.

You watched as Steve hauls himself back, granting you some relief when his weight wasn’t crushing you against the bathroom sink. Both sets of eyes snapped down to where you met, mouths dropped open and heaving as he took his cock fully in his fist, ensuring you remained nice and spread open for him.

Steve flicked his wrist once, twice, three times. Swearing and whining something filthy, taking his bottom lip harshly between his teeth. The neediness in his moans had you squeezing around nothing, and Steve saw the throb of your entrance. That alone was enough to have him keening.

“Fuck, fuck. Oh my god, i’m cumming i’m cumming for you” Steve’s jaw falls slack, eyes squeezing shut in almost pained release.

Just as he promised, Steve’s warm seed spurts just above your clit, flooding down the seam of your slit to puddle at the center of your underwear.

You wrap your arms around his neck again, pulling him into you so you can press sloppy kisses into his neck. Steve is almost wheezing, short-winded and completely drunk on the buzz of his orgasm.

“Such a good girl for me” he laughed quietly, finally releasing your aching leg so he could pull your panties up. The feel of Steve’s release slick in your underwear felt foreign, strange. But you knew that if you didn’t follow through with his orders, you would face the consequences for it later.

Which was both a good and bad thing, but you enjoyed the fizzing giddy warmth that encompassed the space between your ribs when Steve showered you with praise. It was a high you never wanted to come down from.

After some soothing backstrokes, and when you felt secure in the fact that you wouldn’t topple over when Steve no longer held you upright, you both apprehensively filed out of the bathroom.

Your legs were wobbly, though you played it off rather well. Steve was still fixing the wild strands of his locks that were now uncharacteristically out of place when you approached the front of the store.

Back to the counter, arms folded and looking far from impressed, Robin watched as the two of you reappeared, her brow quirking when you adjusted the strap of your shirt.

“You guys are disgusting” Robin tutted, her top lip curling upstairs to bear her top row of teeth, button nose wrinkling in repulsion.

“Can you please refrain from covering any other surfaces in bodily fluids whilst I go on break?”

“Oh my goooddd, Robin!” Steve’s eyebrows sank, drawing his forefinger and thumb across his eyelids to pinch at the bridge of his nose, the tips of his ears dusting the prettiest shade of pink.

She tapped at the non-existent watch on her wrist, “Twenty minutes!! Twenty minutes ago I was supposed to be perusing a Bill’s Deli turkey sandwich!” her gravelly voice cracking slightly under the pressure, “And where were you? Sucking face and becoming parents in the bathroom? Life is good for some!”.

Your cheeks filled with a laugh you couldn’t hold in, between Robin’s blatant abhorrence and Steve keeling over from cringe-induced nausea, you could barely keep it together.

“We’re so sorry, Robs. It won’t happen again.” you assured her through a giggle, rubbing your legs together to feel the now cool collection of cum sitting snugly there, running a comforting hand up Steve’s arm in an attempt to resurrect him from his premature death.

It won’t happen again, will it?

#okay so sorry if this is meh #I get halfway through writing something and then I go 🤠 ‘oh I hate it’ #but I needed to rid this thot out of my head #my fics #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n smut #stranger things #smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine

[steddielations]

thinking about hairstylist Steve and rockstar Eddie. Eddie has a calvin klein underwear billboard that's right across the street from Steve's salon. Steve stares at it constantly while at work and almost faints when Eddie actually comes in one day needing an emergency hair wash because a bird pooped on him while he was walking by. Now Steve gets to massage his scalp and listen to the soft sighs and relaxed borderline moans of the man he's been ogling for months.

#just some thots #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #prompts #steddie headcanon #hairstylist steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #meet cute

[bcyhoods]

could I please request steve and shy!reader and her first time staying the night at his place? lots of timid cuddling and just overall sweetness? I loved your first steeb drabble!

ohemgee yay i’m so glad you liked it!! thank u for for such a cute req, i hope i did it justice🫡 | 1k fluff, gn!reader

You were going crazy, without a doubt. You’ve already finished showering, but you’ve been locked away in his bathroom for 15 minutes. The pep talk you’re giving yourself in the foggy mirror does nothing to calm flutter in your stomach.

“Everything okay, honey?” You hear Steve call from down the corridor.

“Yes—Yeah, I’m okay!” The words are rushed and clumsy as the nickname runs through your head on repeat. And while you’re about to sleep in his room for the first time, it’s too domestic for your racing heart. You hope he doesn’t notice.

Giving yourself one final nod of scarce confidence, you pull open the door and softly let it close behind you. You’re practically walking on the balls of your feet so as not to make any noise.

When you peek into his room, you see the plain of Steve’s back facing toward you. You let your gaze shamelessly trace through the freckles and moles that grace his skin, then to the muscles that tense in his biceps as he fluffs one of his pillows. He’s mumbling to himself as he punches and pulls at the cushion.

Once you push past the door, he turns like he’s a child caught stealing the last cookie from the jar. He’s doe eyed with flushed cheeks and messy hair.

“Hey, there you are,” he sings with a gentle smile.

“Hi.” You timidly wave with a smile just as sweet.

“I was getting worried,” he starts as he meets you by the door, “Started to think you fell in or something.” Steve laughs it off, but there’s a small twitch in his eyebrows that threatens to expose his nerves.

Because while you were in the bathroom, Steve had been giving himself his own encouraging speech. One which also fell quite short, but he was better at concealing it. At least he thinks he is.

Your clammy hand reaches for his, a reassuring effort to soothe both your worries. “No search party necessary. I’m still standing,” you reply softly. He releases a hefty exhale — a mixture of a shaky laugh and a sigh of relief — and gives your hand a small squeeze.

“I’ll be right back. You can sleep on either side, I don’t mind.”

He’s quick to jog out, leaving you to roam every inch of his bedroom.

You’ve been in Steve’s room countless times before, you probably have every trinket and frame committed to memory. But every detail has somehow become more intimate since the last time you’ve visited. Every knick knack is a window into Steve Harrington’s being and by tomorrow morning, you’d become even more familiar. The thought only further warms your chest once your eyes land on an old love note you’d given him, preserved in a framed picture of you right on his bedside table.

By the time he returns, you’re already under the covers with a cheesy smile and patting the empty space next to you.

He uses some sort of excuse so that he can keep a dim nightlight on: Just so you can see everything in case you need to get up in the middle of the night. And Steve Harrington doesn’t have a secret aversion to the dark.

No, Steve Harrington is a romantic, and he just really wants to see your pretty face.

“Are you okay?” He whispers as he settles beside you. He moves to bring the blanket up to your chin and traces the underside of your jaw with his knuckle.

“Yes, I’m okay, Stevie.” You giggle at his concerned expression and reach up to smooth out the wrinkle in his brow before you convince yourself not to.

“Good. Good…just checking.”

And though you’re both laying face to face, sharing the same sheets, he’s entirely too far away for your liking. All you would have to do is extend your arms just a few inches until they reach his shoulders. But really, it’s a few inches too much.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again lowly, noting the pensive expression on your face.

Your stomach flips and your hand flies to pick at the skin of your lips. Now, you would just need to ask. But it’s so difficult when he’s staring right at you, practically oozing adoration. Now there’s a knot in your mouth where your tongue should be.

“Steve?”

He hums. The knot tightens.

“You don’t have to, but…can you, um—would you want to…” you trail off as the rest of your question dissipates.

“Do you…do you want me to hold you?” He finishes for you. He’s already moving to sit up before you can say ‘please,’ eager to wrap you up in his embrace.

You sit up the slightest bit so that he’s able to slither his arm underneath your head. He’s laying on his back while you’re curled into his side. You rest on his bicep, legs tangled with his own and an arm around his middle as you play with the fingers of his other hand.

“Is this okay? Am I hurting you?” You turn slightly so that you’re peering up at his face, chin resting on his shoulder. It’s an awkward angle and you know it’s going to result in a dull ache in your neck, but you can’t be bothered to care with his lips so close.

“No, no,” he’s quick to rush out, “This feels nice. I like this.”

It’s not until you see his wide smile that you notice the ache in your cheeks thanks to your matching expression. Without giving it a second thought, you push yourself up to kiss him, eliciting a sigh from the boy. It’s lazy, and it doesn’t last for more than a few seconds before you’re drawing back to hide your burning face in his chest.

He pauses to gather his bearings and gives you a kiss to the top of your head. “If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

“Shut up, please.”

#officially jumped on the ‘steve calls you honey’ train #god i need a steve harrington shaped bf #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✿ convos with cece #steve harrington #steve harrington thots! #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #joe keery

[wynnyfryd]

oh god oh fuck i’m having new fic ideas that i WILL NOT INDULGE because i have one single molecule of discipline that i am clinging to for dear life but:

Steve actually loves his parents. His dad especially. And everybody’s all:

“What the fuck?”

“But he’s never around.”

“I thought you were pissed at him for something?”

“You called him an asshole all the time,” Nancy adds.

And Steve laughs, “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s totally an asshole, but what does that have to do with anything? You think I’m supposed to talk about sports with all of you?”

“Hey-!”

“Not you, Lucas. Whatever, my dad’s awesome, I love that guy.”

—

anyway i just need steve to be on good terms with his family and actually have a bunch of family members because they’re catholics. like, steve has a sister in college and a brother who’s working already, and their branch of the family is considered small by the rest. like, eddie attends a reunion once and spends the whole time in a low-grade panic because why are there so many cousins? jesus christ

okay cool and then we know steve can get super high-strung and ridiculous when he gets stressed sooooo: future fic + bridezilla steve. he’d be such a nightmare. like, he was too frugal to hire a wedding coordinator so now he’s running around trying to team captain everybody at the rehearsal dinner and he’s got forty relatives crammed into the back room of a steak house, and everyone’s talking over each other and he can’t even think straight anymore

steve finally snapping in a super loud and bitchy tone, “okay, aunt mary, maybe lets trying speaking one at a TIME” and the whole room goes quiet lmfaooo

#steve harrington #steddie #idk what this is #having feelings having thots #having ‘expose only child eddie munson and lifelong loner wayne munson to a harrington party of 38’ #steddie hcs #steve harrington hc

[ang3lofsmalldeath]

blurb of steve harrington x reader having a daddy kink (minors DNI; not proofread)

maybe it was the warmth of steve’s heated pool or the sips of rosé you had rushing to your brain, but you couldn’t stop the fluttering in your tummy as you watched steve play basketball with the younger teens in his pool. you certainly couldnt stop the feeling when robin swam up to sit with you on the pool steps and pointed out steve’s behavior, “ugh look at dingus… god he’s gonna be such a good dad one day- it’s kinda annoying.” of course, you couldn’t help but agree with her, a dreamy sigh slipping out of your month while steve dunked dustin under the water, and you had begun imagining him with a lil fluffy-haired babe of his own. robin clocked the way you were looking at steve, “don’t you agree?” she questioned as you quickly nodded your head, “oh i see- you wanna be the one to make him a daddddyyy!” teasing you in that sing-song voice, making you simply giggle in return, trying to ignore the warmth that flushed to your cunt thinking about steve as a daddy.

one of the best things about your relationship with steve is that he almost always can tell how you are feeling, he can read you like a book. so you weren’t shocked that he immediately could tell what you needed when you wrapped your arms around him, basically hugging him from behind as he cleaned the grill, clad in just his yellow crewneck over your damp bikini to fight the nip of the wind. at this point, everyone had left so he felt no shame as he put his arm around your shoulder, pulled you into his side, and stared at your glassy puppy-dog eyes. breathlessly chuckling, he pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i know, honey, i know.”

once you got inside, steve all but carried you to his bedroom, both of you loving the way he manhandled you, as you pressed small pecks on his jaw and cheeks. “are you feeling needy, baby, huh?” he teased, turning the knob on his door, noticing the way your hips were trying to hump his. you could whimper and squirm in response as steve sat down on his bed with you in his lap. you were both so turned on, and still a lil tipsy, so it wasn’t a surprise when you ended sinking down on his throbbing cock, his hands on your waist, within a few minutes. “o’shit baby, yeah there you go, my good girl. jus’ the tip, ok, don’t hurt yourself baby- god you’re so fuckin wet,” steve couldn’t help his whines and moans as you trembled like a leaf around him, cockdrunk trying to take him deeper. “hnghhh-oh! i-i ca- cant-s’good daddy”. you didn’t catch the petname slipping past your lips, but steve did. stopping you from sinking any further, he stilled your hips and grabbed your face by squishing your checks “what did u call me, honey?” of course you were beyond embarrassed, but with his steady grip in your face you had nowhere to run. “i’m s’sorry! i didnt mean to i-it jus’ slipped out-” you felt stupid and small and you couldn’t control the tears dripping from your eyes. “aw, sweetheart, it’s okay, dont be embarrassed. i jus’ wanted to know why you want to call me that. y’know ill give you whatever you ask for, angel”. you stopped your sniffling, and shifted your eyes to nervously connect with steve’s, basically whining out “ ‘s just-robin asked me if i was ever gonna make you a dad, ‘n’ i cant help imagining it- you take such good care of all of the group now, and well… me so i jus’ couldnt stop thinkin’ about it”

steve could say he was surprised but, he wasn’t. at heart, he was a caregiver through and through, and that carried into your relationship to an extreme. there was a hint of casual dominance in everything he did for you. tying your shoes, carrying you around, bathing you in the shower or bath, keeping your hands warm in his pocket, making you meals, feeding you when you were to weak, kissing you to sleep everynight, etc,. and to be honest, he blushed to the thought of you wanting his babies as bad as he wanted to give them to you.

“aw, peach,” he cooed grabbing your face and slowly thrusting into you, watching you contort your pout into a gasp, “you’re s’sweet, love, one day, you’re gonna let me put a baby in you, hm? yeah but until, i’ll just be your daddy, you can have me all to yourself, how ‘bout that, honey?” you rapidly nodded your head with your eyes pinched, whimpering and whining about how good it felt and how deep he was, as you began to match his thrusts, slowing building a steady pace as he went further and further inside you. “my shy, dumb lil baby, huh? put daddy’s cock in you and you can’t respond t’me? that’s okay, my girl, my good girl, just let your head go empty and daddy will do all the work, gonna make this soaked, pretty pussy cum all over me.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington brainrot #steve harrington smut #smutty stevie #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington thot #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington thoughts #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things

[roanniom]

Steve Harrington likes having his hair pulled. That’s a fact, not an opinion.

He wants you to sit in his lap at a party and slide your hand up from the base of the back of his neck, carding up through his locks, massaging into his scalp. His eyes close before they can roll back in front of all your shared friends but you know the affect you’re having on him from the way his arms tighten around you.

Steve wants you to pull him on top of you in bed and assault his throat with kisses while your fingers slide into his hair and press circles into the pressure points above his ears.

Steve wants you to pull on his hair as he fucks you, pain and pleasure mixing and making his head swim. You’re careful not to pull too hard, but with each delicious thrust of his hips against yours, you can’t help but tug a little, tipping your head back and gasping. Especially when he leans down to nip at the corner of your jaw. Your earlobe. Your collar bone.

Steve likes you to pull his hair because it grounds him against you. Keeps him locked in the moment when he’s in danger of losing himself in the heady high of your embrace. And it just feels so. fucking. good.

#steve harrington discourse #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington blurb #Steve harrington thot #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington x fem!reader #fem!reader

[boyfriendstevie]

just saw a post that was like “it’s women’s day!! eat pussy right now!!” and that is SO steve. he finds out it’s international women’s day, and when he gets home, he drops to his knees in front of you where you’re sitting on the couch, slides his hands up your thighs. he mumbles something about how much he loves you, how thankful he is for you, how much he wants to show you how much he appreciates you…

#is this anything? #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #stevie #steve thots #kit writes

[morningberriesao3]

Dirty Words

Steve Harrington X Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.

Word Count: 10.2K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warning: Explicit m/m sexual content including dirty talk, masturbation, hand jobs, spit and cum as lube, allusions to anal sex, scent kink, spit kink, multiple orgasms, and oral sex. Excessive swearing. Recreational drug use and drinking. This post includes explicit sexual content, foul language, and sensitive themes. It is intended for those 18 and older ONLY. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

Disclaimer: All characters in my fics engaging in sexual acts are—and always will be—18 or older, even if not explicitly stated.

DIRTY WORDS

Eddie is feeling all floaty and shit. The weed Argyle gave him really is better than the skunkweed he’s been peddling in alleyways since he was sixteen years old. Not that he’ll ever admit to it. Definitely a fact he’ll take to his grave.

But for now, Eddie has the weekend off from his new, lousy day job that Steve and (mostly) Robin managed to bag him at Family Video. To be honest, it had been a last resort. But turns out, business is shit after he fucking finally graduated high school. And now—cherry on top!—he’ll have to figure out how to file taxes and shit. Welcome to the corporate world.

With a sigh, Eddie takes another drag from the perfectly rolled joint that he made himself. Argyle can’t top him on that, at least.

Eddie giggles to himself. Top him. Shit, Argyle could top him if he really wanted to, considering how fucking pent up—

The phone rings, making Eddie jump a good six inches from the sunken couch cushion he’s lounging on. He scrambles to a sitting position, and then lifts himself onto his legs that only slightly wobble like a newborn giraffe underneath him. He runs to the yellowing, plastic phone that’s hung up on his uncle’s trailer’s wall, hoping that maybe it’s the guy Eddie’s been fooling around with on the other end of the line. Maybe he could try the whole phone sex thing. Again. And not fuck it up this time.

“Hello?”

“Eddie?” Steve asks, voice all staticky through the speakers. “Why does it sound like you just ran a marathon, dude?”

Eddie realises he’s panting. He’s not sure if it’s from the short dash to the telephone, or if it’s because his blood was rushing to his cock for a minute there instead of his lungs.

Either way, he should probably consider going for a jog once in a while or something. It’s kind of sad that he’s winded.

“Shut up, man,” he says. “Maybe I was running a marathon. You’d never know.”

“I do know. It’ll be a cold day in Hell when you decide to exercise willingly. The sun will be rising in the West. The sky will be green and the grass will be blue when Eddie Munson runs a marathon.”

“You forgot when pigs fly.” Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly drops the phone that’s wedged between his ear and his shoulder. “Did you call to talk about my general lack of fitness, or is there another reason you called, Harrington?”

“I’m bored,” Steve whines. The phone line crackles. Eddie can only assume Steve is, like, laying in bed or something.

Laying in bed, in those navy blue sheets. Shirtless. Maybe fresh out of the shower. A little wet still, his hair sticking up around his head—

No. Nope.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to will away the next image (a towel slipping away from Steve’s hips), because three months ago he made a rule for himself. No more fantasising about Steve goddamn Harrington.

It had been becoming nearly impossible to look the other man in the eye after some of the things Eddie imagined doing with him.

Steve continues on, completely unaware of Eddie’s wandering mind. “Robin is working tonight and tomorrow so she can’t hang.”

“Glad to know I’m your second choice,” Eddie teases.

“No! No, I would have called you either way.”

“Sure you would have.”

Eddie smiles to himself. He’s not actually miffed. He and Steve have become way closer than he would have ever imagined possible. It started when Robin would ask him to hang out, and then she’d invite him along with her and Steve, and then somehow he and Steve just started hanging out alone. And it wasn’t even all that awkward.

Turns out Eddie is cooler than Steve thought, and Steve is more of a loser than Eddie thought.

“Eddie,” Steve groans. And Eddie tries not to be perverted about how good it sounds. “Come on, dude. Let’s hang out.”

“Can’t, man,” Eddie says. “I’m busy.”

“What? No you’re not. It’s nine at night and you’re at home. I also know Wayne works a double, so he won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“It’s weird that you know my uncle’s schedule.”

“No it’s not; he works the same shifts every week. Point is, I know you’re alone. Unless you have other friends that I don’t know about?”

“I do have other friends!” (Not really. Just a guy Eddie’s made out with a couple times in the city, and the members of Corroded Coffin who’re away for the summer.)

“Oh.” Steve goes quiet for a moment, and Eddie feels like he won. But then, “Well, are they over right now?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re not busy! I can bring movies. I have Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and Wildcats—”

“What makes you think I want to watch a sports movie?”

“And Labyrinth.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches. Shit, he loves David Bowie, and he hasn’t been able to get his hands on a copy yet. But he also knows Steve won’t just return the movie before Eddie has the chance to see it, because Steve isn’t mean like that. Not like Eddie is.

“I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting high and being alone!” And jerking off for the next hour and a half to see how many times he can make himself come before it becomes unbearable.

Eddie doesn’t add that last point, for obvious reasons.

“I like getting high. Please, Eddie? I’m so bored. And my house is empty and quiet, and you know how I get nightmares when—”

“Okay! Okay, oh my god, fine. You’re so whiny.” Eddie had no idea Steve was such a beggar. He kind of likes it. “But you have to bring beer as payment. Afterhours fee.”

“Yes,” Steve says, sounding like he’s doing something dorky like punching the air. “Beer it is. See you soon.”

“Hey, Harrington, can you give me, like—” half an hour, Eddie wants to say. But the line goes dead.

He wonders if he can manage to pump one out before Steve gets to the trailer. And the thing is, his dick is harder than he’d like to admit after hearing Steve’s voice. So he’s going to try.

Eddie runs to his room, pulls down his flannel pants so the elastic sits taut under his balls. He doesn’t bother laying in his bed; he just sits on the edge of it, facing his mirror, watching as he fists his own cock and gives it a few tugs. It’s not a narcissism thing, Eddie just likes the visual. Likes to imagine it’s someone else’s hand, or someone else’s cock. Likes to see the tip of it, shiny and red, as his foreskin pulls down his shaft to expose it.

He wonders if Steve is cut or not.

Fuck—no. No, no, no.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking about Steve, he should be thinking about the guy from the bar. About how hard his dick had been, pressing into Eddie’s hip as they made out against the wall in the alleyway.

Yeah. Yeah, okay, that’s doing something…

Eddie watches as his hand pumps over his cock, watches as it starts to strain, the veins popping from the skin as he builds himself up. He squeezes hard around the crown. It only gives a little under the pressure, considering how hard he is, but it makes his dick offer up a pearl of precum that he gathers and spreads around the slit. When he lifts his thumb away, a sticky string connects his hand between his legs.

He likes the way that looks. He likes when things start to get messy. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see the guy from the bar’s cock like this, if he also likes to play with cum and spit.

If Steve ever plays with cum and spit when he’s on his own, like Eddie does. He wonders how Steve touches himself, what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what sounds he makes, what face he makes…

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Yeah, that’s fucking good.

Okay. Okay it’s fine, Eddie will just think about Steve one more time, and then he’ll for sure stop doing it. Just this one more time…

A jolt travels from Eddie’s cock into the tight muscles of his stomach as he imagines Steve’s face all twisted up in pleasure. Those strong thighs bracketing Eddie’s head as he sucks back little dribbles of salty white that leak out of Steve. His nose brushing against a mound of dark hair that Eddie just knows would grow thick around the base of Steve’s cock; little curls that smell like honey and almond soap, because Steve uses the expensive shit.

Jesus Christ. What he wouldn’t give to go down on Steve, just once. Just one time.

Eddie’s mouth waters as his hand flies harder, faster. He’s so fucking close. Just a quick, dirty orgasm before Steve comes over. Steve. Fuck, yes, Steve—

There’s a loud knock on Eddie’s front door.

No! Shitshitshit. He just needs two more minutes. Maybe not even that, just one—

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice is muffled beyond the walls of the trailer. Eddie almost considers letting him wait outside while he finishes up, but he can hear Steve’s footsteps getting closer to his bedroom window.

A rock hits the glass and shocks Eddie enough that it sets him back. Now it would definitely take the full two minutes.

“Shit! Goddamn fucking Harrington—” Eddie stands from the mattress and releases his cock from the death grip he had on it. It bobs between his legs, so fucking stiff that there’s no way it’s going away on its own anytime soon. “One sec!”

Eddie has no choice but to tuck his cock into the waistband of his pants. The tip pokes up under his navel, like it’s staring angrily at him for not finishing the job he started. It’s throbbing, and leaking, and getting the fabric it’s tucked into all damp.

“Same,” he mumbles to his dick as he grabs a longer t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Another rock smacks against his window.

“Coming!” Well, he was about to anyway.

He doesn’t jog to greet Steve, because he doesn’t want to risk his dick slipping from its hiding spot. That is a conversation Eddie wants to avoid.

When he opens the front door, Steve has another rock in his hand, aimed towards Eddie’s window.

“You better not throw that, Harrington.”

Steve’s head whips around. His eyes are full of mischief, a small smile on his lips. His hair is freshly washed and styled, just like Eddie suspected. And his outfit is positively sinful (if you’re horny like Eddie is). Grey sweatpants and a plain white tee, which Eddie thinks is the guy version of lingerie.

Totally unfair, especially when Eddie would just like if his dick would go soft again.

“Why did you take so long, dude? Your trailer park is scary in the dark.”

Eddie gawks at Steve. “You’ve literally fought monsters and a dark wizard in an alternate dimension, and you think my trailer park is scary?”

“Yeah.” Steve points over his shoulder to a mobile home down the lane. “There was an old dude watching me from his window.”

“Mr. Jackson?” Eddie tilts his head, sees the curtains ruffling as his neighbour draws them back. “He’s… mostly harmless. I think.”

“You think?” Steve flings up Eddie’s steps and quickly locks the door behind him.

“Totally. I mean, besides the shotgun he keeps next to his couch. But that’s reserved exclusively for handsome young men that come around the trailer park after nine PM.” Eddie checks his watch, gasps in mock fear, widens his eyes, and peers out of the window behind Steve’s head.  “That means you’re not safe! I think—I think I hear him loading the gun!”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, just for a second, as he cranes his head to look out the window. When Eddie’s sarcasm finally sinks in, he lets go and punches him (a little too hard) where his hand had been. “You’re such a dick.”

“I think that was kind of a compliment,” Eddie says, rubbing at the place where he would surely bruise. “I did say you were handsome.”

Steve flops down on Eddie’s couch and tosses a bag full of VHS tapes and a six pack onto the ground by his feet. He leans back, like he’s making a point, flourishing his hand over the length of his body with the most disgustingly sexy lazy smile on his face. “Yeah, well, that’s common knowledge.”

Jesus.

Eddie looks down to make sure his cock is still out of sight. He can feel it pulse between his legs as he hears Steve’s voice, sees how he stretches on the sofa. But thank God, he’s still tucked away and Steve should be none the wiser.

He takes his place next to Steve—makes sure his shirt drapes loose enough around him that it hides how hard he is.

He wonders if blue balls are a real thing. Will Eddie have severe health defects if he doesn’t come? Will his boner go away on its own?

Questions that he’ll find out sooner or later, he supposes.

“Little full of yourself, are you, Harrington?”

Steve sighs. “Not at all. It’s actually hard work being this gorgeous. You would know.”

Eddie feels his cocky expression fall from his face.

Did Steve just call him gorgeous? Or did Eddie totally misinterpret his words? He blushes and figures it’s better to be safe than be sorry. “Sure,” is all he replies with.

“So,” Steve says casually, “where’s this weed I’ve been hearing so much about?”

Eddie smiles, big and sweet, and points towards his bedroom where he left the joint to fizzle out in an ashtray before he molested himself. “Be a dear and go grab it from my nightstand?”

The truth is, Eddie’s pretty sure the tip of his dick slipped from under the elastic of his pants when he sat down. Miraculously, he thinks it’s starting to deflate by the teensiest fraction, but it would still basically slap Harrington in the face if he tried to stand.

Which—good thing or bad thing? Eddie isn’t sure. That would all have to do with Steve’s reaction. But he’s not willing to find out.

Steve rolls his eyes but gets up like a good little boy to fetch the ashtray. He brings it and the lighter to the coffee table where Eddie had been smoking before.

Fifteen minutes later, Eddie is back in his floaty state with a beer between his legs instead of a hard on. Turns out, stiffies don’t actually last forever if you don’t let yourself come. It’s just very, very frustrating.

“You up for another beer?” Steve asks slowly, reaching into the bag to grab two bottles. His eyes are glazed and blown, and Eddie thinks he looks totally fucked up already. It’s hilarious.

“Yeah, I’m down.”

Steve hands Eddie a new PBR, and his eyes do this little flare thing that makes him look adorable. “Woah.”

“Woah what?” Eddie asks, popping the cap and replacing his empty bottle with the new one.

“Being up for something and being down for something mean the same thing, even though they’re the opposites. I just realised that.”

Eddie smiles against the lip of the bottle, feeling the glass clink against his teeth. “Shit, man, you’re so high.”

“Am not.” Steve honest to God giggles as he makes eye contact with Eddie. “Okay. Maybe a little.”              

“I’m glad you came over, Harrington,” says Eddie after a beat. “Better than another night alone.”

Steve opens his mouth, like he’s about to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Both men turn their heads to stare at the wall phone, but Eddie doesn’t make a move to stand up to actually answer.

Because, for some reason, his mind is suddenly going a million miles a minute.

He knows it’s not his uncle calling in the middle of work, and he knows it’s obviously not Steve. The chances that it’s Robin are slim to none because her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. Gareth and Jeff are away with their respective families.

So the most logical answer to who’s calling after dark, would be the guy from the bar.

And the thing is, Eddie doesn’t want to raise questions. Isn’t sure if he’s capable of thinking of a good enough excuse as to who it was or why he’s calling. Yeah, he could probably have at least answered and told Bar-Guy to call back tomorrow, that he has company, but his brain isn’t thinking fast enough. So he just kind of… stares at the phone as it rings.

“I’ll get it,” Steve says after a few seconds, and suddenly he’s standing from the couch and reaching for the telephone—

“No!” Eddie pounces, because that’s even worse than if Eddie just answers the damn phone himself. He flounders towards Steve, grabbing the outstretched hand, stopping it from curling around the phone. “Stop! Stop—just let it ring!”

Steve gawks at him, but holds his hands in surrender in front of his chest.

The phone rings one more time, and then the kitchenette goes quiet.

Eddie heaves a sigh of relief, even though he probably just made more questions arise than he avoided by not picking up.

“What—what was that about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie huffs, dragging his feet back to the couch.

Steve follows closely behind. Just as Eddie flops onto the cushions, Steve is on top of him, tickling the shit out of Eddie’s arms, his sides, his stomach.

Eddie was not expecting anything like this—Steve’s hands all over him, his leg slung over Eddie’s to hold him down, the smell of Steve’s breath hitting his face. It’s not a bad smell, like freshly brushed teeth and beer and weed, and it’s warm, because their faces are so close together.

All Eddie can to is half-shriek-half-laugh, even as his mind muddles with confusion (and lust. Obviously).

“Tell me!” Steve commands, digging his fingers into Eddie’s neck, down his back, dangerously close to his thighs…

The boner that he just got rid of starts to fill out once more.

“Stop, dude!” Any sense of authority is lost under Eddie’s laughter that he can’t control. “No! Stop!”

“Come on, Munson. Spill the beans.”

Eddie tries flipping onto his stomach, but Steve follows him, blanketing over his back. The panes of his chest press behind Eddie, hard and warm, crowding him against the pillows. And there’s also friction.

Friction that could easily become a problem if Steve keeps goddamn moving against Eddie, making his hips rub against the couch—

“Okay! Uncle. Uncle!”

Eddie keeps panting face-down as Steve lifts himself away from his back.

“So?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice, triumphant from his win. An unhonourable win, as far as Eddie is concerned. Tickle torture is a serious offense. “What’s up your ass?”

Eddie snorts as he sits up, casually grabbing one of the throw cushions to hold against his lap.

Nothing, he wants to say. That’s the problem.

Instead, he just kind of adverts his gaze and goes for the truth.

“I’ve—kind of—been talking to…” this guy.

It’s not like Eddie has been hiding his sexuality from Steve, per se, but other dudes are way less accepting than girls about it. His first official ‘coming out’ had been to Robin (an obvious choice after she told him she’s a lesbian), and then to Nancy.

Apparently, Steve had been really cool when Robin told him she likes girls. But this is a different situation. Steve might be afraid that Eddie will, like, come on to him or something. Which… fair enough. Eddie probably would.

So, instead of finishing with the whole truth, he dampens it down a bit, and says, “Someone.”

“Oh. Shit.” Steve’s eyes do this thing where they drop to the floor, and then shoot sideways to Eddie, his eyebrows crumpled like a cartoon above his nose. He grabs the blunt, takes a deep drag. “That’s good though, right?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sure.”

“Sweet. So what’s the issue?”

All of it. Everything.

Because said guy lives all the way in Indianapolis—two hours away—and the only chance they have to communicate is through phone. Which, by proxy, means that the only times they can actually meet up is after a phone conversation.

Not to mention the fact that they aren’t, like, official—that they just made out a few times. Once outside of the bar, and a couple times in the back of Eddie’s van, which left him achingly hard when they parted ways.

This circles back to point number one about the phone conversations. They’re awkward. They don’t know each other well, don’t know what to talk about. Things don’t just flow naturally. Not like they do with—oh, say—Steve.

Maybe the worst part is that Eddie is a twenty-one-year-old man with raging hormones that—as much as he wishes otherwise—he cannot control. His self-discipline is basically nil. Nada. Zero. He’s fucking horny all the time.

So how is he supposed to deal with long-distance plus rare phone calls?!

Bingo. Yep. Phone sex. It’s the obvious answer, is it not?

So Eddie, like, tried.

And he thought it started well!

What are you wearing? Is that not fucking obvious where Eddie was headed? Is that not the exact line that they use in movies and shit? That’s what he said—What are you wearing?—and then he shoved his hand down his pants and waited for Bar-Guy to get into it, start saying something filthy into the speaker that would get Eddie going.

Maybe like… ‘Nothing at all,’ or, ‘tight boxers that show off my cock,’ or—fuck—'a towel slung low on my hips’. Something like that!

But all Eddie got was, “Uh—sweatshirt. Jeans. Why are you breathing hard?”

And then Eddie had said, “Just thinking about you,” with his low and gravelly voice, to help keep the conversation moving (again, he thinks this is pretty obvious and, like, at least a bit sexy).

Here’s the real kicker. The dude then said, “Are you… touching yourself?”

And it was not a sexy question. He sounded completely weirded out! Horrified! Disgusted!

So Eddie pulled his hand out of his pants and basically yelled, “No!”

Deny deny deny. Eddie is good at that shit.

The conversation had gone on to other things. Dinner plans, or something. Eddie didn’t really care. All he could think about was that this guy probably didn’t want to fuck him. They’d had the opportunity before, and it never progressed. And the thought of Eddie even fisting his own cock all but repulsed him.

Such a damn shame. Because Eddie is so desperate, so pent up, so sick of fucking his own hand, that he’s literally about to drill a hole in one of Uncle Wayne’s oranges and go to town until there’s nothing left but pulp.

Eddie doesn’t tell Steve any of this. He just groans really loud and buries his face in his hands, and says, “I don’t know!”

“C’mon, man. Something’s up. Out with it.” Steve waves his hand in encouragement, vaguely gesturing to the empty trailer and himself. “Safe space.”

Eddie peeks through his fingers at Steve, and he just looks so… genuinely curious. Like he actually wants to help, or at least hear, Eddie’s problems.

“Okay, fine.” Eddie snatches the joint from between Steve’s fingers and sucks it back like it’s water, keeping his gaze from Steve’s (beautiful) hazel eyes. “It’s just that I… I kind of made it awkward. Last time we talked on the phone. I tried to initiate… uh”—he clears his throat—“phone sex.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, his forehead crinkling with surprise. His lips are shiny and pink. But that second part doesn’t have anything to do with Steve’s expression—Eddie just happened to notice them.

“Fuck,” Steve says, leaning forward to set his bottle on the table in front of them. “Yeah. I’ve been there before, man. What happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know. What did you say? I assume it didn’t go well considering how you’re all… tense and shit.”

“Tense and shit.” Eddie laughs once, then mumbles, “You have no idea.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve encourages.

“It’s not! I started with the classic, what are you wearing?” Eddie drops an octave, making fun of his attempt to sound hot. “And then I got an actual play by play of what they were wearing.”

Steve sits back and thinks about it for a minute—his legs splayed, and his arms crossed over his chest. “I think the issue with that is… it’s obvious, but it’s not sexy.”

“How is it not sexy, dude?” Eddie asks, exasperated. “It’s literally a steppingstone into, like, a form of sex!”

“Yeah, sure, but it doesn’t get you hot. You know?”

“No, Steve, I don’t know. Because I’m always hot. Someone could bend to tie their shoes and I’d fucking cream my pants.”

Steve hiccups a startled laugh. “Fuck. Me too. It’s been forever.”

“I don’t think it’s natural for a guy to go this long, man.” Eddie swigs back the rest of his beer and cracks a third. Lights up a new joint, too. And honestly, regardless of his tolerance, he’s pretty fucked up.

“Do you know how many chicks I’ve gone out with? None of my dates have even led to hands stuff. It at least sounds like you’re close to sealing he deal.” Steve lolls his head towards Eddie with a cheeky little smile on his lips. “I mean, if you didn’t suck at talking dirty.”

“I do not suck!” Eddie cries, grabbing the throw cushion from his lap to smack it against Steve’s smug face.

Steve catches the pillow and rips it playfully away from Eddie’s grip. “Then show me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for way too long. He narrows his eyes after a few seconds. “You’re kidding me.”

“Not kidding. I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re doing wrong.” Steve leans forward, plucks the joint right out of Eddie’s slack lips. “Just pretend I’m on the other end of the line.”

“No way, dude.”

Steve curls his hand up to look like a telephone, pretends to dial in a number. Brings it up to his ear. “Riiiinngg. Riiiinngg. C’mon, Eds, you’re getting a sexy phone call. Pick up. Riiinngg.”

Eddie feels his face flush red. He’s not sure if it’s from where this conversation is headed, or out of sheer embarrassment for Steve’s sake. “Holy fuck. You’re such a loser, Harrington.”

“I’ll just pretend you already answered and said hello. Hey, Eds. It’s… wait, what’s this guy’s name?”

Eddie opens his mouth. Then closes it again, because Steve just said guy. Not girl. Guy. Is this a slip of the tongue? Or did Buckley out Eddie to Steve? Or Nancy?

No, neither of them would do that. Maybe Steve just figured it out from context clues.

But still, to be sure, Eddie just says, “What?”

“What’s his name?” Steve askes again.

So—shit—it definitely wasn’t a slip of the tongue. But Steve isn’t freaking out. Hasn’t freaked out in the past. And he’s looking at Eddie expectantly, but not judgy or anything.

Eddie clears his throat. “Nick.”

“Nick! Strong name. Not as strong as Steve, but not everyone can be a Steve—”

“Come on, man!” Eddie groans. Again. Hides his face. Again.

“Okay, Okay!” Steve clears his throat. “Hey, Eds, it’s Nick. What’re you up to?”

Eddie sucks in a breath and lets it forcefully out of pursed lips. “Uhh—hey, Nick… I’m…”—his eyes flick sideways to catch Steve staring at him with a half-smile on his face—“no. Nope! I can’t do this.”

Eddie goes to stand from his perch on the couch, but Steve’s arm shoots out to grab him. “Alright. Let’s just do it, you and me. No phone roleplaying required. Just start with saying a compliment you’d tell Nick or something.”

“Alright… Okay… Uh, you’re—I mean Nick—is really funny?” Eddie says. Nick isn’t all that funny but, fuck, it’s all Eddie can think of. Steve is funny, though, so it’s easy enough to say.

“Yeah, good. That’s good. What else?”

“And you’re really hot. Really fucking hot.”

“Good.” Steve shifts around on the couch, maybe trying to get more comfortable. “And then Nick would say something like, You’re really hot, too.”

Eddie stifles a giggle. “I really don’t think he would.”

“Well, just pretend he does. And then it’s your turn to keep the conversation heading in the direction you want it to.”

“By saying what, Harrington?”

“Try saying how I—Nick—makes you feel.”

“Okay. You make me feel… like I’m vibrating. Like I’m pressurized, or something.”

“Yeah?” Steve breathes, his voice dropping an octave. Probably just getting more into character. “What does that make you do, when you feel like that?”

“It makes me… makes me hard.” Eddie feels his hips pitching forward. His cock twitches under his flannel pants.

A dangerous game they’re playing. Maybe Steve doesn’t know just how serious Eddie was when he said he’s pent up.

“Fuck,” Steve says lowly.

“Too much?”

“No! Nah, it’s good. It’s hot. I mean, sometimes it’ll take longer to build into that kind of stuff, but keep going.”

Eddie nods nervously. “Okay. Uh, what do I say now?”

Steve sits up a bit to adjust the band of his sweats. “Sorry. So, you said it makes you hard. And then I’d say… me too. That it makes me hard just talking about it. Just thinking about it.”

Eddie’s dick is starting to properly fill out again. It makes sense since he never got to come after taking himself right to the edge before Steve came over.

He takes a steadying breath to try to will it away. “Shit. Okay.”

“Do you like that?” Steve asks. “Do you like thinking about how hard my cock gets when I think about you?”

“Fuck, Steve.” Eddie pulls at the hem of his shirt, desperately trying to stretch it beyond his crotch where he is most definitely about to tent his pants. Maybe if he wore boxers it would have been easier to conceal. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“It’s okay. It just means we’re doing good, right?” Steve slides his hips forward, making his sweats tighten against the bulge between his own legs.

Eddie lets his eyes linger there for longer than he should. There’s no way that Steve is getting turned on by all of this, but shit, he is. The proof is in the pudding—if the pudding is his dick that is suspiciously growing under the heather grey fabric.

He can’t help but blurt out, “I want to suck your cock.”

Because it’s true. Eddie’s mouth is watering just from the thought of it. But as soon as the words push past his lips, he realises that it’s not exactly fitting in the theme of phone sex. So he quickly adds, “If we were together right now. Instead of—uh—just on the phone.”

“Fuck, yeah. You’d suck my cock so good.” Steve licks his lips, and Eddie swears his eyes trail over his body, landing between his legs and then back up to his mouth. “I’d fuck your throat so deeply you’d gag and drool all over yourself.”

Eddie can’t help himself from groaning at that image. And as if his body is proving to Steve just how right he is, a trickle of saliva escapes the corner of his lips before he’s able to swallow it back.

He lifts his hand to wipe the back of it against his mouth. “Jesus, Steve.”

Steve shifts closer to Eddie. His voice is low and soft and seductive, and Eddie is having a very hard time remembering that this is a game as he says, “And then I’d ask if you’re touching yourself.”

The words echo those of Nick’s. But when Steve says them, he doesn’t sound horrified at the thought. He sounds like he wants Eddie to be fucking his hand while they talk. Like the thought turns him on almost as much as it does Eddie.

“I would be, by now,” Eddie confesses, wiping his sweaty palms against his knees. He desperately wants to trail them higher, wants to rub between his legs where he’s throbbing and hot. His pants feel like a sauna. They’re humid and sticky, and he knows it’s partly because he’s radiating heat, but also because his cock is already starting to dribble.

“I would be, too,” Steve says. “I mean, Nick would be, too. If I was Nick. And I’d—I’d ask how you were touching yourself. What it felt like.”

Eddie glances between Steve’s legs again. And—holy shit—Steve is hard. As hard as Eddie.

His cock is fucking massive, as far as Eddie can tell. Thick, and long, sitting sideways inside his pants against his hip. Eddie knows it would stand proud by Steve’s belly button if it wasn’t trapped.

And he’s also pretty sure Steve is circumcised by the obvious ridge he can see under the fabric.

Maybe it’s dumb, or false hope, or just how ridiculously horny he is (again), but Eddie is feeling encouraged. Because he’s not the only one who’s getting hot. He’s not the only one who’s participating, or the only one who’s bricked up.

So… why not get into it a bit more?

“I’d say that I have my hand wrapped around my cock. That it feels heavy in my hand. And wet. That I’m leaking all over myself.” Eddie’s hips pitch forward on their own accord, the sensitive tip of his dick deliciously grazing against the flannel of his pants. “And I’d tell you that it feels good. Really fucking good. But it would feel better if it was your hand instead.”

Steve is the first one to break.

Eddie can tell it’s an automatic reaction when he reaches for his cock and squeezes where it’s straining under his sweats. Awareness shimmers in Steve’s eyes, and he quickly pulls his hand away again. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s all good,” Eddie says fast as a whip, repeating Steve’s words from earlier. “Just means we’re doing good, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s laugh is small and breathy. “Really good.”

Eddie swallows his nerves, decides to see if he can keep whatever this is going. “What would you say after that?”

It seems it’s Steve’s turn to be flustered. Eddie can see red creeping up his neck, like his chest is flushed. It reaches his cheeks and makes him look all bright and pink. “I’d tell you what I’d be doing.”

“Which would be?”

“I’d be reaching under my pants, and I’d circle my fingers around my dick. Gently at first, because—because I’m sensitive down there. And I want to make it last.” Eddie watches as Steve’s hands lift back to his lap. And then pinch the hem of his shirt. A strip of his sun-kissed stomach flashes as his fingers tease against the drawstring of his pants. “Like this.”

Steve’s hand disappears as it pushes down into his sweats. It moves along the length of his cock. He adjusts so it’s no longer sitting sideways; it’s now straight up, as big as Eddie assumed, dangerously close from peeking past the waistband.

Eddie would not be upset if it did.

The best part is when Steve’s hand starts moving under the fabric. Long, soft strokes that Eddie can tell are featherlight, mostly just fingertips teasing against his skin. Just enough to make Steve bite down on his lip and his breath hitch in his throat.

“Steve—fuck.” Eddie’s mouth goes dry as he watches Steve touch himself. And he has a few fleeting thoughts.

First is the classic, Am I dreaming? Because surely Steve Harrington is not jerking himself off in Eddie’s living room on a Friday night while they say filthy things to each other under the guise of another dude.

Impossible.

The second comes after Eddie subtly pinches himself and doesn’t wake up. Which is, Is this a joke? Because now that he knows he’s (probably) not asleep, there must be some other horrible explanation for what’s happening. He racks his brain, plays back the events that led him here.

Eddie doesn’t think he could misinterpret everything. But he’s probably done dumber things in his life.

Plausible.

And the third—which is the thought that’s taking up the majority of his consciousness—is, Am I allowed to touch myself, too?

He doesn’t let himself consider this one too long. Because there’s no way in Hell that Eddie would be able to stop himself. Not if a gun was pointed to his head.

So he shoves his hand down the front of his pants and squeezes his cock way more aggressively than Steve.

It’s both not enough and instant satisfaction. Like when you start scratching an itch and it seems to get itchier as your nails dig into your skin, but at the same time it’s doing exactly what you need to soothe the discomfort.

Eddie’s lips part as he grabs his balls and gives them a taut squeeze. His dick basically weeps against his skin. So much precum is pushing from his slit that it’ll be a miracle if there’s any left when he actually comes. Fuck, he hopes this time he can actually come.

His heart is beating so goddamn fast in his chest that there’s a good chance if he stops for a second time this evening, it will give out. He really, really will die.

“Does it feel good?” Steve practically purrs the question.

Eddie nods fervently, but he’s not able to form words. He doesn’t know where to look; Steve’s blown eyes that seem more black than hazel, his hand that’s speeding up under his sweats, the damp patch that’s forming where his cock must be leaking nearly as much as Eddie’s if it has already soaked through the fabric, or the growing expanse of abs on show—flexing in tandem with Steve’s strokes—as his free hand continues to lift the hem of his shirt.

Fuck, Eddie wants to come. Right now. He wants to come right fucking now.

He squeezes the base of his cock, bordering on the verge of pain, to stop his orgasm in its tracks. “So good, Stevie.”

Steve’s head falls back against the couch cushion, his eyes flicking between Eddie’s legs, his mouth, back down again… back up. He’s pumping himself with more intent now, his wrist twisting with each upwards stroke. “I wish it was your lips on me. I just know how good they’d feel. You have perfect dick-sucking lips.”

Eddie attempts stroking his cock again. It zaps into the coil in the pit of his stomach, but if he goes slow he’s sure he can go at least thirty second before he’s on the edge again.

“You have no idea, Steve,” he says, his tongue wetting his lips like he just might fall to his knees and start sucking Steve off for real. “I’d keep them nice and soft like you said you like. The inside of my mouth would be so wet—fuck, I’m salivating just thinking about it. And then I’d seal them around your big cock and hallow my cheeks when you least expect it, and you’d fucking thrust into my throat in surprise—”

Eddie moans, dropping his grip on himself yet again. That time it was really close; he can feel his dick pulsing under his pants. If he were alone, he’d push them down and watch as his cock twitched against his abdomen, angry at the loss of his fingers at the last possible moment.

Across from him, Steve speeds up; his hand moving in quick, short bursts against his tip. He makes his own noise, his eyes rolling back into his skull and then closing altogether.

It takes everything inside Eddie not to grab himself and come inside his pants right then and there. Shit, Steve looks so fucking good. Eddie desperately wants to see more. The colour of Steve’s dick, the way it strains, if it’s curved or straight, if it’s shiny. He wants to see it leak, wants to see Steve’s fingers catch the pearls of precum that are soaking through his pants and rub them into his skin. Wants to see it web between his fingertips—sticky and white. Wants to suck it off of them.

Shit. Fuck. It’s a miracle Eddie isn’t coming untouched. He’s still right there, on the verge of his orgasm. One single, insignificant, breath of a touch would one hundred percent set him off.

Steve’s eyes open. He drops his own dick, wipes his palm against his t-shirt. And he scootches closer to Eddie.

Just the brush of Steve’s thigh against Eddie’s makes him tremble, makes Eddie feel like he’s going to lose any semblance of control that remains.

They’re pressed right against each other. The length of Steve’s leg is warm and strong against Eddie’s, bigger than his. Thicker. Just like the rest of him.

Steve spits in his hand. Eddie watches as it pools in his cupped palm, watches as Steve brings that hand back down to the front of his pants. He stretches the waistband away from his body, and for a split second, Eddie catches a glimpse of his cock. Just the crown, broad and pink like Steve’s lips, right before the elastic snaps back and covers him again.

Don’t come. Don’t come. Don’t you dare fucking come, Eddie Munson.

“And then,” Steve says, adding fuel to the fire, “I’m gonna bend you over the arm of this couch. You’ll look so hot, with your back arched and your ass on full display.”

“Jesus Christ.”

Fuck it. Eddie sticks his hand back down his pants, but barely touches himself. Just draws a line up the fat vein on the underside of his cock. He can feel his heartbeat under the pad of his finger.

“I’ll push into you so slowly. You’ll feel so full with my dick in your tight little asshole. And you’ll make those sexy little noises the whole time.”

Eddie makes one of them right as Steve says that—a low, quiet rumble from the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that. And then… then I’ll start fucking you. It’ll feel so good, Eddie.” Steve fucks his fist harder, his hips lifting from the couch like he’s chasing his own touch. His hand sounds wet on his cock, slapping and squelching each time it smacks against the base. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you start crying. That you start screaming. Your scary neighbours will know how good I’m fucking you from the noises they hear coming out of your trailer.”

Eddie wonders if he lets himself come if it’ll be the end of whatever is happening. He knows for a stone-cold fact that he’ll be able to stay hard after the first time. But Steve doesn’t know that. Not yet. Maybe he should tell him.

But for now, Eddie tries to regain some control, some semblance of his quippy, cocky personality, just so he doesn’t come off entirely as a whimpering fool (if it’s not already too late). He tries to smirk. “Bold of you to assume I’m a bottom, Harrington.”

“A bottom?” Steve asks, and Eddie realises that maybe it’s a term that he’s never heard before. Because he’s straight… (question mark?). Again, Steve uses context clues. Smart guy. He presses impossibly closer into Eddie’s side, and asks, “Are you telling me you don’t want to feel my cock inside of you? Don’t want my cum dripping from your asshole for hours after we fuck?”

Eddie’s whole body vibrates. That’s it. The end. He fists his cock and pumps it hard, pulling his foreskin forward enough to cover the head, back to expose it, all underneath the checkered fabric of his pants. “I’m gonna come, Steve. I’m coming.”

His teeth bite painfully into his lower lip as he lets himself tumble from the ledge. Cum surges from his cock hard enough that he knows it would have painted his entire chest if it wasn’t contained inside of his pants. Each wave of his climax makes him whine aloud. It sounds crude, mixed with the slick slap of his hand against his skin.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, staring as Eddie’s working fist, eyes blown wide like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

And maybe it shouldn’t, but Eddie’s left hand reaches out with a mind of its own, gripping high on Steve’s thigh. Squeezing it hard enough to leave a bruise, while his right is covered with hot, slick cum.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie babbles, riding out his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Keep going. Keep talking. Don’t stop. I’m not finished yet, I wanna come again. Please. Please.”

“Oh, fuck, Eddie.” Steve brings his own hand down atop where Eddie’s is still sunk into the flesh of his upper leg. For a moment, he thinks Steve is going to pry his fingers away, but instead he laces them with his own.

It’s such a simple thing, holding hands, but it feels intimate. Intentional. Like this isn’t just some game.

Eddie shouldn’t be thinking that. But he is. He is. And it’s the moment he consciously knows he’ll be ruined for anyone else. End game for Eddie Munson. Steve held his hand while they jerked off. He’s in love.

Steve yanks him from his internal monologue. “You can come twice in a row?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, his hand still squeezing between his legs. Each stroke sends a bolt of lightening through his entire body, but his dick barely softens in his hand before it stiffens back up to steel once more. “Usually more than that. Four times if I want, but—but not as much cum comes out as the first.”

“Oh my God,” Steve breathes. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Can I… Can I see?”

His eyes flicker down to Eddie’s crotch.

“Sure.” Eddie pretends he’s confident as he tugs down his pants, lifting his hips enough to push the fabric under them.

His cock springs free from where it was trapped.

He doesn’t want to be self-conscious of his body, but he can’t help but wonder what Steve sees. If he’s at all disappointed that Eddie’s dick isn’t as big as his. It he thinks it’s weird that he’s uncut or that his dick curves upwards. If he let his pubes grow too long.

But Steve’s eyes go heavy with desire, taking in every inch of Eddie. The way his entire dick is shiny and sticky with his own cum, how it gets stuck in the hair that grows below it. His fingers squeeze around Eddie’s, involuntarily or in encouragement, he doesn’t know. But it makes him feel better.

Eddie is about to ask if Steve would show him more, too.

Steve beats him to it. “Do you want me to—?”

“Yeah. Fuck, yeah.”

Steve brings the hem of his shirt to his chin, catching it between his teeth. His whole chest is on display, his olive abs flexing as he pulls down the front of his sweats, tucking the elastic waist under his balls. His hand circles his cock, so thick his fingers barely meet.

And now they’re both just… bare. Basically naked as they jerk off next to each other, hands still intertwined like they’re some sort of couple. Things go quiet for a few moments as they just watch each other. How their hands work against themselves, speeding up, slowing, twitching.

Eddie’s cum gets sticky on his hand, against his cock. When he pulls his fingers away from his body it feels a bit like glue, tacking his hand up so much that it’s hard to slide it over his length.

“Spit on it,” Steve whispers, like he knows exactly what Eddie is thinking.

Eddie nods, bringing his hand up to his mouth—

“Wait.” Steve unlaces his fingers from Eddie’s, grabs his wrist. “Can I?”

“Shit.” Eddie huffs a breath through his nose. “Sure, Harrington.”

Steve lets a long string of saliva fall from his pretty, pink lips. It wets Eddie’s palm, mixing with the cum that covers it, making it slippery instead of sticky. Instead of letting go, though, Steve brings Eddie’s hand down to his own lap.

“Wanna switch?”

And—holy fucking fuck. Eddie trembles with ill-contained delight. He doesn’t even reply, just wraps his fingers around Steve’s cock before he can even think about what’s happening. What it means. That it’s changing the dynamic—they’re getting involved with each other instead of just themselves.

It doesn’t even matter. Not right now.

Steve’s head falls back against the cushions. “Oh God, that’s amazing.”

Eddie slides his fingers up Steve’s shaft—so heavy and hot in his hand—just as Steve described he liked. Soft and gentle. He twists his wrist in the same way Steve touched himself, watches as his lips part and his brows crinkle together, marvels at the vision of Steve’s cockhead surging from his grip, so flushed against the paleness of his hand and the silver of his rings.

He squeezes a bit harder and watches Steve’s hips rut towards him.

“You look so good,” he tells Steve, voice getting lost behind the moans that Steve keeps loosing from his lungs.

“Eddie?” Steve pants, thighs twitching as Eddie dares to circle his thumb around Steve’s slit, gathering more wetness to join the rest.

“Hmm?”

“Were you serious earlier?” Steve asks, barely a whisper. “About wanting to suck me off?”

Eddie’s hand stills on Steve, his eyes shining wide with shock and want. “Yeah? I mean—yeah. Very serious.”

“…Would you?”

Steve doesn’t have to say anything else. Eddie is already sliding onto the floor, already grabbing Steve’s knees and spreading them apart so he can slot himself between them. As soon as he’s bracketed by those strong thighs, they clamp down against his waist. A powerhouse of muscle, locking him to where he kneels.

Eddie is slightly intimidated by Steve’s cock. Will he have to unhinge his jaw like some sort of python to fit it in his mouth?

He leans down and kitten licks the tip, testing how it might feel on his tongue. Steve’s body jolts from that alone, makes a little whimpering noise that makes Eddie’s dick dribble onto the carpet.

“That’s it,” Steve encourages as Eddie’s lips close around the crown of his cock. “That’s perfect. Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. It’s all I think about.”

Eddie moans, opens his jaw wider, and then sinks forward. Steve’s cock glides against Eddie’s tongue. It tastes like hot, sweaty skin. And cum—whether it’s Eddie’s from his hand, or Steve’s pre, it’s salty and heady and makes Eddie’s mouth even more wet as he salivates.

“Fuuuuck.” Steve’s fingers bury themselves in Eddie’s curls, tugging him closer.

It’s different than his fantasies. Steve doesn’t smell like honey and almond soap, and Eddie’s nose most definitely cannot reach Steve’s pubes, even as the tip of his dick brushes against the back of his throat. But the dark curls at the base are exactly as Eddie pictured. Perfectly trimmed and up-kept, as nicely as the hair on Steve’s head.

Eddie can’t help but pull off Steve to trail his tongue all the way down his shaft. He noses along Steve’s inner thigh, shamelessly burying his face in that thick thatch of chestnut hair. And then he deeply inhales the musky scent of Steve.

Steve groans, shallowly thrusting against Eddie’s cheek, the tip of his cock grazing Eddie’s ear, getting lost in his mane of hair.

A rope of drool connects Steve to Eddie, his tongue lolling from his mouth to rub against the side of Steve’s balls as he drinks in his smell. He dips his chin lower, until Steve’s dick is standing straight up, resting against his forehead.

The noise Steve makes is fucking sinful—completely wanton—as Eddie shoves his nose into Steve’s balls and breathes him in, committing everything to memory. His scent, his taste, his sounds, his face—everything.

Eddie isn’t sure if this will happen ever again. Isn’t sure if it’ll even be acknowledged. So he’s going to enjoy every goddamn minute while he’s so up close and personal with Steve’s cock.

“Ah—Jesus Christ. You are a freak, Munson.” Normally, those words might hurt. But Steve says them with such lust that it can’t possible be construed as anything but a compliment. Eddie wraps his hand back around Steve’s cock and starts pumping him with purpose, sucking his balls into his mouth and rolling them around his tongue. The wet, slurping sounds are totally lewd in the quiet air of the trailer. “Shit. Ohhh—shit. I’m close. I’m about to come.”

Eddie hums in encouragement, keeps his lips sealed around Steve’s balls. His hand flies above his face until he can feel how tight Steve’s balls get, can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

He pops off, rests Steve’s cockhead onto his tongue, and jerks him off fast and dirty.

“Eddie—Eddie!” Steve’s thighs tense around Eddie’s middle. Cum surges from his slit into the back of Eddie’s throat in thick rivers, coating his tongue and teeth in sticky white release that he happily swallows down.

Fuck, Steve tastes good. Feels good. Sounds even better as he comes with Eddie’s name falling from his lips. Eddie closes his eyes and revels in the moment, lets himself savour the twitch of Steve’s dick as it empties into his mouth, the intrusion as he thrusts into Eddie’s throat, and the threat of himself gagging against it. He keeps swirling his tongue, even as Steve’s cum stops spurting. Even as his noises become high, and his body starts seizing with each flick against his sensitive tip.

Eddie desperately wants to make the moment last forever, doesn’t want to acknowledge that Steve is basically crying from overstimulation above him.

Finally, the fingers in Eddie’s hair tug him away. He whines at the sudden emptiness, wants to lean back in and feel Steve’s cock soften completely inside of his mouth.

Steve’s eyes are still blown and lustful, and strangely soft, as he says, “That was so fucking good.”

He smiles and gives Steve’s knees a squeeze as he leans back, his own shaking under his weight as he hauls himself back up onto the couch. He feels a little weird now that Steve came, because Eddie is still hard. Still wanting. But he also came once himself. Not from Steve’s hands but from his words, and it was enough. Maybe he should just tuck himself away and let this thing end naturally—

Before he can make a decision, Steve is reaching towards Eddie’s lap. “Is this okay?” he asks as he wraps his fingers around Eddie’s cock.

Eddie lets his gaze fall between his legs. His dick gets swallowed up by Steve’s big hands. He likes the way it looks so red as it peeks out from his fist.

“Is that a real question?” Eddie’s hands flounder in the air before they land on the couch cushions and bury themselves there, his nails digging into the upholstery as Steve starts fucking him with his hand.

“I knew you’d be good,” Steve says lowly. “Knew your hands and your lips would feel incredible. I can’t believe how hard you made me come. I wanna make you come like that.”

Eddie’s jaw swings open and his eyebrows knit together, and he thinks to himself that it’s not going to take long at all for Steve to get what he wants.

Steve leans forward, and for a second Eddie thinks he’s going to put his mouth on him, but he just lets a string of spit fall onto the tip of Eddie’s cock and gathers it with his hand, spreading it along his skin that moves in tandem with his strokes. It’s almost as good.

“Oh, Jesus—Steve.” Eddie sucks in a breath as Steve’s fingers tighten, forcing a bead of precum from his slit. “I’m gonna come again. Keep doing that. Keep—keep doing that!”

Steve nods, watching as he works Eddie back to the edge. Watching as he expertly rubs his thumb against the spot that makes Eddie see stars.

His second orgasm is stronger than his first. Eddie’s vision blurs out of focus—probably because his eyes are crossing—and the noise he makes sounds like an animal getting fucking murdered. The muscles in his torso tighten and tense and shudder as Steve enthusiastically jerks his dick, cum gathering in his fist, eyes watching with rapt attention.

Eddie’s body goes limp as Steve slowly lets go of him. When he’s able to focus his eyes, he notices that Steve is looking at his hand in fascination, watching Eddie’s cum stretch between his fingers as he scissors them.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever done that,” he says, bringing his wet hand up to his face. Steve smells his fingers, and then decides to bring them to his spit-slicked lips. One of his fingers pop into his mouth, and he hums around it, as if he’s actually enjoying the taste of Eddie’s release.

Yep. Eddie could definitely, without a doubt, go a third round.

But before his dick does something stupid like get stiff again, he tucks himself away. “And? What did you think?”

Steve pulls his finger from his mouth, grabbing an old napkin from the coffee table to wipe the rest of Eddie’s spend from them. “I think I was wrong.”

Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest, waiting for Steve to start berating him or something for making him do something gay. Even though he’s pretty sure he wasn’t the one who initiated it.

But Steve just smiles and cocks his head to one side. “You definitely aren’t bad at dirty talk.”

A sigh of relief heaves from Eddie’s chest. He smacks Steve’s shoulder, but he smiles right along. “You’re a prick.”

As he stands to grab a towel from the bathroom, Steve calls behind him, “You seemed to like my prick.”

Eddie blushes ferociously. He catches his expression in the mirror and tries to wipe it away, but it’s impossible. He’s just bound to look like a totally fucked-out dipshit for the rest of his life, he guesses. As soon as the water runs warm, Eddie washes his hands and wets two towels. He cleans off his dick and his sticky thighs, and brings the second one to the gorgeous man who’s back to lounging on his living room couch.

“Did you?” Steve asks, taking the towel to better clean his fingers. When he shoves it down the front of his pants, Eddie adverts his eyes.

“Did I what?”

“Enjoy it?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “Yes, Steve, I enjoyed it. Fuck.”

“Good.”

Eddie sits next to Steve and tries not to let himself feel awkward. “Yeah. Good.”

“Want to watch Labyrinth now?” Steve casually digs into the bag he brought, grabs the VHS and wiggles it in front of Eddie’s face.

“Absolutely,” says Eddie.

They pop in the tape, and the TV screen glows blue before it starts playing through the ads. Steve sits next to Eddie, their thighs pressed up against each other, just like they had been before.

Steve reaches over and laces his fingers with Eddie’s. They stay like that for the whole movie.

_____

It’s been three days since Steve left. Since Eddie has even heard from him. Keith makes sure they don’t have many shifts together at Family Video (because they never got any work done), so it’s not uncommon that they go this long. But Eddie’s anxiety makes it feel like it’s the end of the fucking world.

God forbid he reach out to Steve himself.

But by the end of the third night, he gets a phone call.

“Hello?” he answers.

“Hey, man.” Steve is on the other line, sounding chipper and unphased.

Maybe Eddie was overthinking it.

“Oh, hey!” he says, a little bit too enthusiastically. He dials it back a bit, clears his throat. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Just got off work. I have the afternoon off.”

“Sweet.” Eddie nervously twirls the chords between his fingers. Time to be brave. “Do you—maybe—want to hang out then?”

“Yeah. That’s why I called, actually. I stole Psycho III from Family Video. Want me to bring it over?”

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief. Things aren’t changing. Steve won’t estrange himself after what happened, because he’s a good person. Eddie doesn’t even know why he was worried in the first place.

“Sounds perfect.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

A few ticks go by, and then Steve quietly asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m just wondering…”

Eddie waits, the suspense nearly killing him. “Wondering what, Steve?”

“…What are you wearing?”

MASTERLIST

SOCIALS

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #top steve harrington #bottom eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #steddie smut #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie thots #steddie blurb #dirty talk #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie nation #steddie brainrot #steddie stranger things

[urhoneycombwitch]

chiropractic/masseuse/physical therapist Steve or Eddie who break ur back and then pop/rub u back together again

or y'all in the middle of bed breaking, glass shattering, air steamy back shots and he slows down and go "hmmm?" and moves his hands around ur back/hips to feel around like "babe, your (insert long muscle/joint name here) is really tight, is it painful? how long?" and he readjusts you before going back to the sex

BONUS ACTUALLY: steddie threesome with this same concept. hands everywhere

foreword: okay this is just with Steve sorry will do more Steddie another time xx

+18 mdni, steve harrington x reader

cw: a single spank. Big Dick Harrington Truthing. fem pet names for reader.

you've hit that part of the sex groove where the only thing filling your mind is the fit of Steve's cock nestled inside your tight channel, while his broad palms soothe against your lower back.

hands and knees digging into the mattress below, you rock yourself back against his hips, wet skin slapping together with each thrust.

"god, you're so tight."

your response, in a moan: "it's 'cuz you're so big, Steve."

"no-" his thumbs press firmly in the strip of muscle just to the left and right of your spine's base. "your erector muscles. have you been doing the leg lifts I showed you?"

"uh-huh-" you're drooling into the pillow as his cock curves sweetly against your walls, voice raspy from when the length of it was down your throat earlier. "-hardly think we have... an erector problem... more a lack of one, really-"

there's a sharp crack, then a stinging prickle on your left asscheek; Steve slots his hand back to rub at the taut muscle with deft and firm sweeps.

"hush. lemme take care of you, 'kay?"

Steve proceeds to push into you to the hilt, keeping pressure on your back until his weight is settled against you, and yours is fully on the mattress.

his body radiates heat as he smooths out the tension of that muscle, keeping his pulsing cock still inside you, tsking if you try to wiggle your hips.

"relax, sweet girl. gonna make you feel so much better."

#steve as soft!dom is so hot to me #+18 mdni #s.h. thots from lu #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #lu's anons

[eddiesghxst]

steddie x sensitive!reader where eddie’s ur best friend that you do ‘more than best friend’ things with and steve was the asshole at school that would tease you and always make you cry.

eddie knew about it but he didn’t know your bully was steve so when eddie and steve start working together and you stop by one day eddie doesn’t think much of it when u see steve and ur really jumpy and look like ur ready to bolt out of there because you’re often shy around strangers.

and steve doesn’t even fucking remember you and so when you leave steve is like “is she always that jumpy?? like was i being weird or??” and eddie just shakes his head and is like “nah she just has a hard time w strangers. some asshole used to tease the shit out of her in high school. she never told me who it was but the day i find out i swear i’ll hunt them down and strangle them myself.” and steve is like wow what kind of an asshole would do that to a girl like you??

because steve thinks you’re pretty and sweet and he likes you and he thinks he wants to ask you out but how will he do that when he: 1 - can’t seem to have a conversation with you and not scare you off 2 - is convinced you and eddie are definitely dating even if eddie says it’s not like that and 3 - can’t decide who he’s more jealous of when he sees how close you two are

because is that even normal? is it normal to like two people at the same time? is it normal to feel left out when you and eddie are snuggled together during movie night? is it normal to want to hold both of your hands, kiss both you, touch both of you??? iS iT ?!!?!

#okay brb i have an assignment due in 20 mins #but #steve doesn’t know he’s going through a life crisis #steve falling to his knees when he realizes it was him that bullied you #eddie hating steve for it but being so heartbroken bc of how close they’ve become #steve begging for forgiveness #eddie teaching steve how to treat you the way you should be treated #steve having to learn to be patient to mend the damage he did #steve having to earn both you and eddie’s trust but also eddie trying to show u that steve isn’t like he was before #i have thots i have thots i have thots #i can go on and on guys fr #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie #rachie speaks #wips